Clouds

Yesterday, 5 September 2011, I saw the most beautiful clouds i have ever seen in my life. Clouds enthrall me, i can spend hours simply watching them and seeing all kinds of things within them.

Joni mitchell sang about clouds, well ok the song was really about love. but I don't get why she didn't understand them. they flow into our lives, are sometimes white and puffy like cottonballs, sometimes dark and pregnant with precipitation.


The clouds I am referring to from yesterday, were a brilliant contrast of brilliantly bright over-layed by dark charcoal, creating breath-stopping beauty. The white clouds were under-lit by the sun and shone brilliant white to yellow and pink tinged works of art.

While we are on the subject, how many of you out there see things in clouds. This month, I saw a seahorse, an octopus, an raccoon, and a dragon, and my favorite; a dog splayed out taking a nap. I tried to get Harper to look up and see the doggy, but she was too intent on sniffing the ground and chasing squirrels.

Let me hear from all you cloud gazers out there.What have you seen lately in the clouds?

Snippets of conversations overheard.

While sunning at North Beach yesterday, I heard two young women talking as they passed my blanket, here is what I heard.

"His dreds are so long."

"They are so gross!"

"Do you know how long it's been since Spenser washed his hair?"

"It has been years, I am sure of it."

"Eeew, that is so gross."

Where in Racine,WI Can I Find Persian Food?

Do you love Persian food? If you are a local, Racinian? Racinite?, looking for a great place to eat, I've got the place for you,. George's on Main Street, in the community of River North. The humble-looking, one-time pub turned Persian restaurant, is actually owned by David and Soosan Popoff. George's has actually stood on the corner of Hamilton and Main since 1946, David and Soosan are simply changing their focus to yummy fresh-cooked, authentic, Persian food.

There is something for everyone. Each dish is prepared fresh for you, by Soosan herself. Personally, I cannot enter the door without having some of her Shirazi, a salad of diced tomatoes, onion, cucumber, coucous, parsley and herbs all lightly flavored with her unique, light, and refreshing Persian vinaigrette. Give me more, give me more! And Soosan's hummus is addictive! Be sure to ask for another order to take home, because you will wake up in the middle of the night wanting just one last bite, it is that good. If you have never tried hummus, a wonderfully healthy appetizer of ground garbanzo beans, tahini(ground sesame seeds), garlic, artichoke, lemon, and olive oil, that you dip pita bread into and delight your taste-buds to Heaven and back, George's is the place to try it! I have eaten hummus from California to St. Croix, Virgin Islands, and this is one unique and delicious secret recipe.

Some of the other delicious menu items, include: Kabob Koobideh, so good, so light, this dish of lean ground beef, served on yummy Basmati rice with grilled tomatoes and a side of that special salad Shirazi, is perfect for lunch or dinner. If you love stuffed peppers (filled with delicious yellow split peas) seasoned with Soosan's secret Persian spices, and simmered in tomato sauce, call ahead to make sure there are any left, they are to die for, and one of my favorite's!

So, you've got the kids with you, and they absolutely will not eat anything that doesn't say 100% Pure Beef Patty, with American Cheese on it? No problem, George's also has a few American standards, like cheeseburgers, pizza, and chicken salad. Although, I think Soosan's Chicken salad is refreshing and tastes better than mine, which means it is delicious, because mine is dog-goned great! ;>)

So, walk, jog, drive, ride your bike, whatever, just get down to George's and try out this terrific find of a place and their wonderful food.  They serve lunch, Tuesday through Friday from 11am until 2pm, and dinner from 5 to 8pm. Saturday and Sunday, they open at 10am.

خوردن مبارک  (Happy eating!)

Sometimes Black is Just a Safe Place To Be

Sometimes black is the only safe place for me, the only place where the bad

Does not follow me. In the black I am not suffocated by the sad.

Unless you have been taken by the hand and visited the screeching pain,

I say it, not once, but over and over, and over again.

Don't even try to judge me.

Unless your chemistry dips and agitation and turmoil rules.

Unless your brain cannot remember what it forgot, and the world's idea of what will help turns out to be useless tools,

Don't even try to judge me.

When,

You have felt the frightening questions that wail around you, pushing, gnawing, scraping at your heart, taunting.

Then please don't judge me until you understand how truly daunting,

Unless the fear of forever standing in your room and calling out, "I don't know!"

"I do not know!" Unless all the day, or the long-lasting night, you tear at your hair and cry, "I don't know!"

Until you have tasted the streams of salt, your own rivers of tears,

Until even the beating of your own heart drives your deepest fears,

Unless you have felt each rasping gasp of breath,

Punish your burning chest with a fiery death

Ever onward, ever further away, far from the light of day, far from the safety of the good light.

Until it is either hide some place safe, or surrender to the forever night.

Please don't think of judging me,

Not until these, or perhaps even deeper, or worse are your reality.

Black is the only safe place to be.

When the battering voices, or patterned-churning sound to chaos have given way,

When all you can do is wonder if it will really, truly, ever be safe again to venture into a broader day,

If, in the dark, the wind is still, and the pain recedes, and every thought or feeling in your mind doesn't strike a stinging blow,

Or try to tear apart the you, that is your soul; then there is no doubt; you know that black is the only safe place where you can go.

Until a small, gentle stir initiates a slight change, and the air and light, and blue begin to cease to burn,

When hope returns, slowly at first, and you begin to think, maybe there is some place else to turn,

Oh please maybe, another place to go to, to reach out of the black, oh safe, safe black.

Be calm, breathe deep, take some moments, lest it claim you back.

Once you have tested the walls, and the sound, and found they can once again be calming and still,

And you find coming back within your reach, that wonder of; maybe it will.

Once you have taken a deep, deep, slow, slow breath, and asked, "Can you see your way to be?"

Are you able once again to stand, and boldly, clearly say; "Hi, it's me?"

Then,

Don't you dare to judge me, and say that you would always fight, fight, fight!

I have come back to stand here and say, sometimes I must take flight!

Sometimes, black is the only safe place to be.

One thing more, I know, it is not only true for just me.

For all of you who know and understand, how it is not always safe to be you, me, we.

I say to you, I understand how sometimes; black is the safest place to be.

An original poem by Joyceanne Edell

22 February 2011

Thank God the Bread was Good!

My sister came up to Racine to visit last weekend for our Winterfest/Snow Sculpting Contest.  Her mission was to cram as much Holiday Cheer into me as she could in two days.

We ran off to see how far the snow sculptures had come along. It was bitterly cold out, but there was a good showing of artists and observers in Monument Square. We walked around "oohing and ahhing," our appreciation and wishing the teams good luck. It was thirsty work. So we headed to Shillings for a pint.

As we entered, a cheerful blonde woman sitting at the bar greeted us with a bright "Hello." We thought she was the official welcoming committee, she was so enthusiastic. Introductions were made all around, drinks purchased and we began getting to know each other. So, "Hello" to Jason, Drew, Tom, and the lovely Diane, and thanks for the drinks and best wishes for the New Year. What a great group of folks they were. We hated to quit their company, but our pot roast and home-made noodles needed warming up. Actually, the roast needed warming up and the noodles needed to be extruded, then boiled.

How is it that I can make scrumptious sauces, breads, cakes, cookies, rack of lamb, pies, curries, gravies and many other things, but the perfect pot roast eludes me? That Saturday night I decided the answer was, it just isn't my dish. You cannot do everything, for Pete's sake! Today, I proffer a different consideration. Perhaps I simply like to roast the old fashioned way -- to wit, in the oven. I believe that I am not the best of slowcooker cooks. Chili, soups, stews, yes, but obviously not pot roast. When I asked my sister how she liked her dry roast she replied,

"It's fine."

Fine? Fine? That is a word a good cook never wants to hear. Fine is like saying, it will "make do." The noodles, although not in the same league as my mom and grandmas, were a good linguine. The gravy was rich and spicy, but the pot roast itself was yuck! I am sticking to rack of lamb, pork chops Moroccan style, poached salmon, or any of my other wonderful recipes that elicit words like, delicious, fantastic, etc. Life is too short to make a mediocre dinner! So, I Thank God, the bread was good! (As did Joanie.) We ate quickly, well as quickly as we could chew the dry meat, and decided dessert would be beers at the pub.

Once at Coasters, on Main street, we began building onto our good cheer and frivolity. We shall not discuss Joanie's first brew. Trust me, it is a story better left untold. By our second round of beers we were off to a rip-roaring start on huge holiday cheer!  ;>)  Some of my friends had started staggering (ah, no pun intended) in and I introduced them to my sister with pride. The evening went by in a blur of fun, flirting, and song. The old jukebox was rocking that place! Of course, we closed the joint down and walked back to my house having enjoyed a great evening together.

On Sunday we barely got to the sculptures before sunset, and we missed the voting entirely. We were amazed at how much beauty had transpired since the evening before. The artists all did a great job, and we admired their labor hugely. Unfortunately, we have no idea who won first place. Ah well, that doesn't really matter, we enjoyed all the tableau and thought they should all win something! We did however, regret that neither one of us had been smart enough to bring our cameras. (Go ahead, roll your eyes, I am!)

As my sister dropped me off so she could head back to Illinois, we discussed the fun we had, happy and chuckling at our remembrances of the evening before. I apologized for the not good pot roast. She offered some ideas about future attempts, and thanked me for my sisterly hospitality, and said,

"But the bread was darn good!" Amen to that sister dear, amen to that. Thank God the bread was good!

Why can't we teach our dogs to....

My dog, Harper Lee, thinks she should be coddled, pampered, noticed and petted all the day long. Now, don't get me wrong, she does wake me up with kisses, never messes in the house, and barks when anyone approaches our door. I appreciate all she does for me.

Here is what I do for here. Buy her all raw meat food, which means a twenty-five minute drive out to Sturtevant. She actually eats better than me. Not to mention I pay the rent, gas, petrol and favorite biskies, she is v. particular. She gets long walks, drives in the car, runs on the beach, and much, much more.

All I wish she could do is wash the dishes occasionally, the laundry, dust (she could use her tail and go out side to shakey, shakey it off her), and give herself a bath every once in a while. Sounds reasonable to me. And, man if she could file papers that would be grand. Okay, I know what you would say, "She doesn't have thumbs or fingers." My reply, can't they evolve? How about genetic assistance in evolving. Come on, science has managed to clone all kinds of things. They also managed to take the glorious scent of roses out of many different varieties, in order to make them more tolerant to inclement conditions. Is it too much to ask them to get it together and enhance canine abilities?


Well, no matter I shall love Harper always. She is my best friend (on four legs that is), forever and ever and ever, to infinity and beyond!


"Just wishing and hoping..." to quote the beginning of a Dusty Springfield song. Am I old or what? :>)

What a beautiful day for a daydream...

A balmy 70 degrees is awaiting you at North Beach. Although this girl doesn't need any reasons to daydream, this is the perfect day to walk along the shore in bare feet and rolled up jeans.

It's been awhile since I jotted down any thoughts. Been fighting with a bad cold/asthma combo, sleeping a lot. My poor little dog is so confused. Tomorrow I shall try to get back to my normal schedule. Sleep is so necessary when you are ill, and if it overtakes me, I shall not fight it.

Yesterday I watched one of the most tender love stories ever. There was NO sex, but tons of sexual tension, sensuality, and tender love. The film is called, "Bright Star," and is the love story of John Keats and Fanny Brawne. So sad, but infinitely worth one's time on a rainy afternoon.

Have a grand day dreaming wherever you love to dream.