Not to brag, but I just had the best dinner! It’s been a day when Sophie and I were out here alone—no visitors, no human contact except by phone and computer. Jordan breezed in for two minutes, so frustrated with her busy business that she breezed right out again. But dinner made up for it. A piece of salmon filet with chimichurri sauce, a boiled potato with lots of plant-based butter, and a green salad. Chimichurri is my new favorite thing. When we went out to supper Saturday, I had salmon with chimichurri (no, I’ll not tire of it) and came home with a small container which goes a long way. I roasted the salmon with salt, pepper, and olive oil. And not too long in the oven—I love the glass door in my new toaster oven, because I could see the salmon lighten as it cooked.
This
is a nostalgia day for me. Fifty-eight years ago, I married one Joel Alter. Some
good came of it—four wonderful kids and a liking for Jewish food. Beyond that,
it was pretty much a wash. From my point of view, we were happy for fifteen
years, and then miserable for two after he went crazy. Were he still walking
this earth, I’m sure he’d have a different tale to tell.
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One
more bit of nostalgia: I watched an interesting program tonight, an interview
with Dawn Turner, author of Three Girls from Bronzeville: A Uniquely
American Memoir of Race, Fate, and Sisterhood. Bronzeville, a neighborhood
on Chicago’s South Side, was in my childhood a Black neighborhood. Growing up
in Kenwood at 51st Street, I knew 47th Street was the
dividing line, but I never heard the name Bronzeville. When I was very young my
family attended St. James Methodist Church at 4611 S. Ellis, clearly in Bronzeville
and not Kenwood. (Today the church is being converted into apartments and
community work space—nice to see the very traditional limestone building being preserved.)
The program tonight was interesting, but whereas Turner talked about the
universality of her growing up experience (her best friend and her sister had
much more difficult adulthoods than she, a respected and successful journalist),
I wanted to hear specifics about those two adjacent neighborhoods. In my young years
I thought 47th Street was a gulf as wide as a moat, and I wanted to
know how that affected her because I know how it affected me. She touched
lightly on it but not in depth. Still, the book goes on my TBR list.
My new
word for the day: hegemonic masculinity. (Okay, it’s two words.) It means a
society dominated by men. I ran across it online today but thought it so
appropriate when old white men (and one young white woman) are trying to tell women
what to do with their bodies. Like the majority of Americans, I continue to be
distressed about Justice Alito’s draft, with all the holes in its logic and
support and the utter lack of medical knowledge or consideration. But I read an
encouraging post today from Wendy Davis—remember her? Thirteen-hour filibuster
in the Texas legislature against an anti-abortion bill which was later passed
anyway. Davis has not given up the fight, and she wrote that there is a way to
win if control goes to the states. I’m not sure I have this right, and now I
can’t find the reference—but there is a way. It has to do with amending the
state constitution so that the decision will be in the hands of voters at the
ballot box, rather than the state legislature. It’s early days yet, but there
is a movement to that effect in several states (Michigan for one, I believe)
and we must be alert here in Texas for the first opportunity to work toward
that goal. We’re fortunate to have Davis to guide us.
Monday,
and a whole week ahead. So far I seem to be lazing through it. Hope it’s a good
one for you.
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