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| Our Geerman dinner |
This weekend,
independent bookstores across the country raised something like $30,000 by donating
a small percentage of their sales to RAICES—Refugee and Immigrant Center for Education
and Legal Services, an organization that strives to help immigrants from South
and Central America now stuck in our appalling detention camps for asylum
seekers. In my horror at conditions in those camps, here’s a fact I didn’t
think of: the U. S. policy not only disrupted stable governments in Central American
countries as far back as the 1960s, helping to install dictators, but we have
more recently been actively deporting hardened criminals back to their country
of origin. Which means that we have sent a lot of criminals to countries like
Venezuela, where the governments are not stable enough to deal with them. The trauma
these criminals inflict on native populations is beyond horrible. There’s
another answer to the question of why they persist in coming here. No, they can’t
stay and make their own countries better—they are powerless victims. Perhaps we
should recite Emma Lazarus’ poem again together in unison—"Give me your
huddled masses, yearning to be free.” If you want to donate to RAICES, you can
find them online.
Trivia for the day
is a new word I just learned: sewist, a combination of the words “sew” and “artist”
but definitely not a seamstress, who sews for practical uses and for profit. I
think this means fabric artists, which includes artists who create clothes,
wall hangings, banners, etc. Sure sounds hard to pronounce to me, and internet definitions
are at pains to distinguish the word from sewer which has nothing to do with beauty
or sewing.
For some time now Tuesday
night happy hour with neighbor Mary Dulle has become a cottage tradition. She
brings her own cocktail, knowing I only have wine, and we both provide snacks.
A couple of years ago Tuesday night was neighbors’ dinner at a neighborhood
grill, but that gradually fell apart, and Mary started coming here. Jordan usually
joins us, and conversation ranges over politics and health care but often
settles on food. Mary and I both like to cook, though she is much more accomplished
and dedicated than I am. Turns out we are both of German ancestry and love
German food. So we decided to have a German potluck supper.
Last night was the
night. Mary and her husband, Joe, joined us for supper. She brought the makings
for Wienerschnitzel, which she cooked on the spot, and I provided hot potato salad,
herring salad, and red cabbage. Needless to say Jordan, Christian, and Jacob
would not touch the herring salad (which will probably turn up on my Gourmet on
a Hot Plate blog) or the red cabbage, but the hot potato salad is one of
Christian’s favorite dishes. We had a lovely time at dinner, talking about old
friends in common (some ears should have been burning), politics, food, and
whatever. Lots of laugher and lots of good food. Chocolate cake with ice cream
for dessert. One of the most stimulating dinner conversations I’ve had in a long
time, and I thoroughly enjoyed the evening.
Really blessed to
have such good neighbors.
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