Showing posts with label #Democratic debate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label #Democratic debate. Show all posts

Wednesday, January 15, 2020

A debate, a pot pie, and a monitor




Despite my active interest in the current political situation in this country, I confess I haven’t watched any of the Democratic debates until last night. Maybe it was the crowded field, but I always thought I’d wait and read the pundits’ summaries. Oh my, did I learn a lesson last night.

A good friend came in from Granbury to watch the debate. She’s such a good friend, she brought dinner from Eatzi’s—a delicious chicken pot pie, marinated tomatoes, and a thing of black olives. (Yes, she looked at me and said, “Oops, I remember. You don’t eat them, do you?”)

Mary came, Jordan was here, and the four of us had a lively happy hour but when it came time for the debate, it was just Linda and me. I realized how serious she was about this when she began to fuss about 7:45. I had the TV on Channel 5, and Linda thought the pre-debate commentary should have begun. So I flipped channels but found nothing. “Do we have the wrong night?” she asked in horror, and I assured her we didn’t. She kept telling me she watched CNN and they would have pundits on well in advance. So I finally called Jordan and asked how to find CNN—I am rather in a rut as you can tell. NBC or nothing, because I’m not a big TV watcher.

The debate had just begun when we finally found it and settled down to watch. Both being strong and convinced liberals or progressives or whatever you want to call us, we hung on every word. I, who had thought I would get bored and lost in the diatribes, was mesmerized by each of the speakers but particularly focused on Biden, Warren, and Sanders. When one of them said something we thought really important, we gave each other a thumbs up. But at the halfway point, Linda, with a long drive ahead, left. By then I was hooked, and I watched every minute.

A couple of things struck me: one was that they didn’t snipe at each other, a development that I was glad to see. Yes, there was that moment between Warren and Sanders and the underlying tension between them, but generally they were collegial. And all six emphasized that it is crucial for the United States to rebuild its alliances with foreign powers. The day of nationalism passed decades ago, and we cannot go it alone in the modern world. We need allies. Mr. trump has destroyed our alliances, alienated our allies. And, finally, especially from Sanders but from all, I heard the real and necessary concern for the environment and the climate. I can’t tell you how ballistic I go when people ignore or deny climate change.

My favorite line: When asked about facing trump in a debate, Joe Biden said, “I’ve been the object of his affection for a while now. I think I’ve taken all the hits he has.”

I thought the candidates were energized with fire last night. Shows you what a judge I am when some called the debate boring. But, yes, I came away with two favorites. No, I’m not telling who. But I am still optimistic.

Tonight, I’m home alone, just me and my Holter monitor that is checking the activity of my heart. I had always thought it was a halter monitor and had a picture in my mind of something you wore like a halter. Not so. It was invented by a biophysicist named Holter. And to my surprise today, when I was fitted with it, you need a pocket to put the monitor in. It’s attached to leads on your chest, much like when you have an electrocardiogram.

So my big panic was what can I wear that has pockets? I usually spend my days at home in a T-shirt and leggings—no pockets. Fortunately, the tunic I wore to the doctor’s office had a pocket, but I came home, rummaged around, and found the one pair of pjs I have with pockets. So by four-thirty, I was in pjs, and I intend to stay that way until I can take the thing off at three tomorrow afternoon. I declined to go to supper, with wires sticking noticeably out of my clothes, but Betty, my usual Wednesday night dinner pal, came for wine. And then I ate the rest of Linda’s  pot pie.

So don’t expect to see me out and about tomorrow. What a great way to make me put my nose to the grindstone and stick to business.

Sunday, March 06, 2016

The significant and the truly insignifcant

The significant: I watched the Democratic debate in Flint, Michigan tonight and was struck by the civility. There was no hatred, no anger, no slinging of insults and certainly no talk of private parts. As Hillary said, “I will not get in the gutter with an opponent.” But more important to me, there was less talk about what’s wrong with America and threats from Mexico and Isis than about what the two candidates proposed to do if elected. Secretary Clinton scored highest on this, to my mind, because she seemed to have very specific plans in mind for every problem sent her way, from what to do about schools and the infrastructure to her personal faith and how she would run a campaign against Donald Trump. Senator Sanders talked more about what’s wrong with America and he was spot on—the wealthiest nation in the world with a horrible record of caring for our children and elderly. But when asked what he would do as president, he seemed to have great goals but not as specific plans for reaching them, especially without support from Congress, which he likely wouldn’t have. My impression? Secretary Clinton would make the best leader of our country, but I sure do like Bernie a lot.

An apology: I attributed a comment about the poor being like feral cats to Paul Ryan in last night’s blog. He didn’t say it—some minor Republican said it a few years ago and used the term stray instead of feral. I should learn to check Snopes and not believe everything I read on Facebook.

The less significant: I cooked dinner for the Burtons last night. Wanted shoulder lamb chops but Central Market had sold out, so I got what I swear was labeled Lamb London Broil. Asked the lady butcher how to cook it, and she said she’d have to research that (??!!). Winged it—seared them in anchovy butter and finished in a hot oven. Misjudged the timing because the meat was fairly thick, and it came out more well done than Christian and I like, though perfect for Jordan. Served with oven-roasted rosemary potatoes, green beans vinaigrette (Christian’s green beans), and salad. Tonight I had a sandwich of leftover meat—flavorful and good, but I’m not convinced it was lamb.

The truly insignificant: last night I poured myself a good-night glass of wine and then cleverly used the bottle to knock the glass off the counter and spill wine all over the floor. Mopped it up with a rug I keep handy for kitchen accidents and returned the wine to the fridge, only to realize if I wanted good-night wine, I had to pour another glass. Did and realized I had cracked the plastic glass badly and it was leaking wine all over. Put it in the sink and went searching for the plastic glasses that Jordan had carefully put away for me. Now that’s a hard-won glass of wine. Jordan says I need a sippy cup.

Tonight good friends came for happy hour, and I fixed a tray of leftover appetizers. We had a good visit, and after a day alone I enjoyed the company. Life is good, and God is generous with his blessings.

Monday, January 18, 2016

This, that, and the Democratic Debate

I have so enjoyed the three-day weekend. Stayed home all three days, slept late (Sophie has developed the habit of jumping on the bed and getting in my face when she thinks I’ve slept long enough), did a bit of cooking, and got lots of desk work done. The trouble with that is the more you do, the more there is to do. Writing is an uncertain life—one day you may think your desk is relatively clear, and the next you’re inundated with a thousand small projects. That’s where I am now—inundated.

I think I’m becoming a piscatarian—one who eats fish but not other flesh. Saturday I had salmon for dinner; Sunday for lunch I defrosted a tuna pasty; for dinner I had marinated tuna; today I made salmon salad for lunch because Jordan was coming on her lunch hour, and tonight I finished the marinated tuna. Tomorrow I’ll finish the salmon salad for lunch, but then by time for dinner at the Grill, I’ll be ready for beef or turkey.

Tonight good friends were coming for happy hour. I started a fire, put out three wine glasses, even put on lipstick…and then went to my computer to find they had to cancel because he’s had health issues. Disappointing but I have enough on my desk to keep me busy—and a book I’m really enjoying.

If you read this blog much you know I am a dedicated progressive, liberal, Democrat—whatever term you want to use, whether or not it’s a pejorative to you. I watched the debate last night, and frankly I was disappointed. I had hoped the Democrats would continue a collegial discussion of issues that concern us all. But instead Hillary Clinton went on the attack against Bernie Sanders.  They weren’t as ugly and angry as the Republicans (frankly I don’t watch those debates because of the anger level and the lack of concern for the common good). Occasionally both Clinton and Sanders managed smiles and chuckles, but there was an acrimonious tone to the debate that dismayed me. Poor O’Malley was left sort of off-stage, but I do like him, think he's a voice of common sense. I guess conventional wisdom is that he’s in this for a vice-presidential spot—and that would please me.

Which of the two forerunners am I going to vote for? I’m still not decided. Friends in politics tell me Sanders can’t win a national election, but didn’t they say that about Obama? And doesn’t his campaign echo Obama’s 2008 campaign? I know Hillary has the experience and the knowledge to do the job, but sometimes a bit of mistrust creeps into my mind. And an occasional photographer manages to catch her with a cold, unpleasant look on her face.

I don’t know, but if Trump wins (which I sincerely doubt but am afraid to say out loud), I’ll begin to make plans to move. Now he’s taking credit for the release of the Iranian hostages, claiming they were freed because Iran is afraid of him. So much for President Obama and diplomatic negotiations. As a good friend would say, “Give me a break!”

Sunday, January 17, 2016

Death and taxes, and a lot of other things


No, no death. I just always thought death and taxes went together--maybe because both are inevitable.

It’s amazing what you can get done when your knee hurts when you sit down, stand up, or walk. I spent most of the day at my desk—okay, there was that nap—but I got a lot done. Yesterday I tried five or six times to post Murder at the Tremont House, #2 of the Blue Plate CafĂ© Mysteries, to Kindle. Finally gave up last night, and posted it successfully this morning. This means all three Blue Plates are available again as e-books. Check it out at  http://www.amazon.com/Murder-Tremont-House-Mystery-Mysteries-ebook/dp/B01AQULPHU/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1453085593&sr=1-1&keywords=murder+at+the+tremont+house+KIndle. Please don’t be surprised at opportunities to buy it for over $1,000 in paperback. I’m never sure why Amazon puts those extravagant prices on out-of-print books. But Murder at the Tremont House is no longer available in print, except used copies. If you want to pay a thousand dollars for one, God bless you—but rest assured I get no royalties from those used sales.

People keep asking me what I’m writing. I’m tempted to say, “Nothing.” But my answer is that I’m “managing my career.” It’s true—I pushed myself for several years to write two or three books a year. Now I’m concentrating on marketing, making available titles that disappeared when my publisher went out of business. I’m blogging more and arranging blogs tours for Desperate for Death, which debuted this month as an e-book. I have two guest blogs to write by the 25th—wrote one tonight and was totally dissatisfied with it. Will start over tomorrow.

And I’m planning ahead for the debut of a totally different novel, The Gilded Cage: A Novel of Chicago. It will launch in print and ebook in April, I’ll do a blog tour (yes, I’m working with a tour company that knows historical markets whereas I know mystery sites), and fretting every day about how to spread the word about this novel. I consider it my “big” novel. It’s Chicago history from 1847 through the Columbian Exposition, the Gilded Age which much like our own saw a great division between wealthy and poor. Central to the story are the Potter Palmers (he of Palmer House hotel fame). While Potter built a fortune and became a leader in Chicago politics and society, his wife worked to turn philanthropy into good deeds. Pardon me, but I think it’s a good story, and I’m excited about it. More to come later.

I also started on taxes tonight, answering the basic questions on the organizer and putting my bank statements into order so I can go through them easily. A yearly chore that I dread, but once I get started, I know I’ll move ahead on it.

I’ve been watching the Democratic debate with one eye and listening with one ear. They haven’t sunk to the level or anger at the Republican debates but I am sad that they are attacking and accusing each other-Clinton and Sanders, while O’Malley remains the voice of calm. I liked it better when there was a sense of collegiality.

Okay, enough work for the day. I just got Julie Hyzy’s Foreign Eclairs, and I’m going to read. Sweet dreams, everyone.