Gas stove and bare arms

 

 

 

Jordan, ready for a girls night at the rodeo.
Her elegant fur vest doesn't show well in the photo, 
but trust me, she's well dressed for the occasion.

Honestly, conservatives can be such fun. It’s so easy to punch their buttons and set them off in a twitter. Remember when there was that big flap about Jade Helm, a 2015 government military exercise that took place in several states? Conservatives (read Republicans if you want) went bonkers and claimed that the government was coming to confiscate civilian guns. Governor Abbott, in his infinite wisdom, designated an operation to monitor what Jade Helm participants were doing. Of course, it all came to nothing—except a special forces training exercise—and everybody had their guns.

Well now they’re all riled up over confiscation of gas stoves. Let me back up and say that for years I hungered for a gas stove. I was sure it would improve my cooking a hundredfold, and I argued to my contractor that the gas hot water heater was only feet from the stove, and it would be easy to run a gas line under the house—it’s an old pier-and-beam house with a crawl space. Each time, he patiently explained that the gas company would inspect all the lines on the property and might easily find infinitesimal leaks due to age Ultimately my gas stove could cost me upwards of $10,000.

Lately I’ve been reading that gas stoves are not in favor because they omit fumes, even when turned off. These fumes are expected of aggravating childhood asthma, other respiratory conditions, and contributing to the pollution of our air, with ultimate damage to the ozone layer. And suddenly in the last week or two that has become a conservative cause. If I had a gas stove and an asthmatic child, I know what my choice would be, but I saw a post from a woman saying they would only take her stove over her dead body.

Conservative anger-mongers have stirred the base until, apparently, they envision uniformed men invading households, ripping out gas stoves, and leaving gaping holes. Not so. Whatever government agency is investigating this is considering restrictions and safeguards on new installations. Calm down, everyone. And investigate induction cooktops, which seem to be the coming thing. I cook on an induction hot plate and like it a lot, but I understand a whole cooktop is a vast improvement.

On a similar foolish note, conservatives in the Missouri legislature have passed a rule requiring women to wear long sleeves. I guess they feel those bare arms will be so titillating as to render men incapable of governing (note my restraint in not commenting further on that). It’s hysterically funny if it weren’t so scary, harking back to the sixties and beyond when women weren’t allowed in legislatures—except maybe as clerks. It also echoes the Taliban to a frightening degree—if men can pass rules about what women wear, who’s to say face coverings or even full burkas aren’t next. Fear of sex and women is a powerful thing. Men have already dictated what we can do with our bodies, and now they want to tell us how to dress.

Aside from my angry amazement at the issues above, this was a pleasant, slow day. I finished a manuscript and sent it off to beta readers. And I played in the kitchen, using up leftovers which pleases my Scottish soul. The other night I served eggplant sauté over polenta, so for the last two days I’ve had grits with butter and cheese for breakfast—this morning I even skipped grating cheese and added a spoonful from the crock of pub cheese. And for lunch? Sauteed eggplant. So good.

Cut salmon en croute
showing the layers

Salmon en croute
Not real pretty but so good

But the pièce de resistance was salmon en croute, made from things I had on hand. I had puff pastry in the freezer, though I feared it was old and freezer burnt. No such thing, but I forgot to defrost it which delayed dinner a bit. But I spread a sheet out and pressed a round flat circle of baked goat cheese spread, left from a couple of nights ago, in the center of the pastry sheet. Then I topped it with small chunks of the good canned Alaskan salmon I keep on hand, and I topped that with thoroughly drained canned spinach—yes, fresh would have been better, but remember I was using what I had. It made enough for four people, but Christian, who is also home alone tonight, declined—he doesn’t eat cooked spinach. I thought it was so delicious I had two helpings and am now overfed. A thoroughly satisfying food day.

A note upgrading Sophie news: she is back in the clinic. Was home one night, but clearly wasn’t doing well. When we took her back, I was quite sure it was farewell, but the doctor said no, he would let us know if he felt that was the case. Later, he called with a new possible diagnosis and a new treatment plan. He will keep her through the weekend. So please cross your fingers and say prayers for my sweet Soph.

Thanks, all. I’m off to spend the rest of the evening with a good book.