Leavin' on a Jet Plane

Darlings, as I write this, I am in the Alaska Airline's first class lounge in San Francisco, waiting for the flight that will take me back to Seattle.

The train ride out west was gorgeous, and right on time until we got to Salt Lake City. There, in true Union Pacific fashion, we kept getting later and later until we reached Oakland about four hours down. That's what happens when you give someone from Omaha (where all the Union Pacific trains are dispatched) a position of responsibility - they just collapse under the pressure.

There's nothing quite like the ride through the Rockies and the Sierra Nevadas however. You get to go places where cars just aren't allowed, and the ride is just amazing. My only regret is that it is too early in the year for the rafters to be out on the Colorado River. They have a custom of mooning the passing trains that is charming, in an out-of-doors sort of way.

There was only one flaw: Congress, which can't quite manage to oversee the war, or the billions of dollars that are just plain missing from Iraq, has no problem overseeing how Amtrak should serve food. They've forced them to develop something called "simplified dining", which is a nice term for pre-packaged food served by a skeleton staff on cheap plastic plates. It's something that only a Republican could come up with: Wasteful, ineffective and insulting to taxpayers. I'd ask what they were thinking, but Republicans don't think. It makes their head hurt.

San Francisco was lovely: I did my standard inspection tour of the usual suspects (Top of the Mark, Tonga Room, Starlight Roof, etc) and everything was found to be as tasteful as always, although I do worry about the Top of the Mark: The latest renovation has significantly reduced the size of the bar, and lightened up the space considerably. I prefer the huge bar and subdued tone of the previous decorating scheme, but at least it's still open.

I did have a DREADFUL experience with the Hotel Nikko, something that they should be good and ashamed of, but I don't have the energy to relate it to you now. Suffice to say that it is NOT a place of taste and breeding, and should be avoided at all costs.

But onward and upward: Today is the Colonel's birthday, and we must look our prettiest for the homecoming. I can't wait to see the livestock and the improvements to Chez Vel-DuRay, and settle back into my groove as Christian Homemaker and international trend setter.

Dispatch from the Heartland, Part V: The last night

Tonight is my last night under Rita's roof for a while. Tomorrow night I catch the California Zephyr, and Wednesday night I arrive in Emeryville, California (which is just north of Oakland). Friday I fly back to Seattle to observe the Colonel's birthday.

It's not been a bad couple of weeks: Hanging out with mom has meant a lot of naps, a lot of laundry, and a lot of general chores. Lots of stuff had piled up while she has been sick, but I think I got most of the backlog handled.

In the long run, if she gets better, there is the question of what to do with the house, which is paid for, and a nice four bedroom, two bathroom house on a big lot. In a similar neighborhood in Seattle, it would easily fetch 600k, but here in Mediocrity Heights, it's probably worth about 100k, once the dust settles. Sister woman thinks Mom needs to go to assisted living, but I'm not so sure about that: Prior to this whole mess, she had her little groove (church, beauty parlor, supermarket, luncheons, post office) down pretty good, and I'd like to see her resume that life. After all, she's lived in Council Bluffs since 1942, and her house since 1962. There's really no need to rush things, unless there's a need to rush things.

As I speed across the rails, I'll undoubtedly have ample time to ponder all of this. But then again, with the scenery as amazing as it is on the Zephyr, and the bar car so handy, I'll probably find some other things to think about. Which will be nice for a change.

Meanwhile, back in Seattle.....

I know you're getting bored of hearing about what's happening here in desparation flats (although I'm dying to tell you about the crush I have on the Butcher at the Hy-Vee) so I thought I'd let you know what's been going on back at Chez Vel-DuRay.

* The downstairs bathroom is heartbreakingly close to being finished. In fact, there is an excellent chance that it will be done by the time I return to Seattle (except for the decorating, of course - which is my department. I'm thinking wallpaper....). It is a 3/4 bath (toilet, sink, shower) that is a vast improvement over what was there prior to this time.

* We've made an honest woman out of the third bedroom by giving it a closet, thus making it a "legal" bedroom. It's still small and gloomy, but all of the bedrooms at Chez Vel-DuRay are small and gloomy, so that's nothing new.

* Finally, while the Colonel had a lovely truck (the one seen in Sylvia's calendar this year) it was not a very functional truck. For one thing, it kept having issues under the hood. And since it was a stick, I couldn't drive it (yes, yes, I know. That's ridiculous, but there you are) Most importantly, it had problems doing essential things like hauling the boat and going to the dump.

So, ladies and gentlemen, we bring you the F-150



Isn't it handsome? While the other truck had a certain rafish charm, I think this one is just butch as hell. I may just have to take it over as my personal vehicle.

So that's what's going on back at the Old Home Place. Maybe tomorrow I'll tell you about that dreamy butcher....

Dispatch from the Heartland, Part IV: Snowday!

So the snow arrived. School was cancelled yesterday, but they still managed to pick up the trash. I replaced the dryer vent, and continued to work on the ridiculously hateful jigsaw puzzle I bought at the Community of Christ thrift shop.

Since I couldn't leave the house, nothing else happened. I did watch "Murder on the Orient Express", "Hannah and her Sisters", and the first part of "Tootsie"

Dispatch from the Heartland, Part III: Living in the tropics

So I've been here for a week now, and I am sweating my ass off.

Yes, it's in the 20's (on a good day) but my mom, God love her, keeps her house at 80 degrees. Needless to say, she's still cold, but I am sweating the aforementioned rear-end off. My only escape is "my" bedroom, where I have closed the vent, and it is about 70 degrees.

And now they are threatening to have a blizzard. At least I won't have to worry about shoveling the snow off the roof.

In other news, I went to church today. Make of that what you will.

Tomorrow? Tomorrow I think I will replace the dryer vent. I'd kill for a drill, btw.

Dispatch from the Heartland, Part II

There are people back in dear, warm(ish) Seattle who wax eloquent about the midwest: The values, the neighborliness, the slow pace of living.

Those people, for the record, are full of shit.

Oh, there are exceptions, I suppose. For instance, I bought a FABULOUS Falstaff beer sign. It needed a new bulb, so I went to an electrical place, and they gave me the bulb and starter for free, which I have to admit was cool of them. And the guy at the Honda place, where I took the care for a tune-up, couldn't be nicer about mom.

But you get as many - or more - rude drivers and blank stares here than you do in Seattle. And people smoke everywhere, and litter like there's no tomorrow.

Right now, everyone is all worked up about some new drug called "wet". Some guy who was high on "wet" went running around an Omaha neighborhood naked, busting into places and making everyone very uncomfortable. Back in Seattle, that's called Saturday Night, but here the cops killed him.

Oh well, life goes on for us clothed individuals: Lots of laundry and basement cleaning, as well as trying to figure out the DAMN humidifier on the furnace. This house is so dry that if it weren't so cold here, it would probably spontaneously combust.

Oh, and by the way, I saw Sylvia's twin today. She works behind the counter at the Community of Christ thrift shop, where the Western Auto used to be.

Dispatch from the Heartland, Part I

So, Dear Readers, here I am, back in Council Bluffs, doing time on Grandview Avenue.

The flight to Denver was atrocious, but that’s nothing new: I was in the center seat next to two humorless young people who acted like the AA wagon should be waiting at the gate when I ordered a glass of wine (and everyone sneers at me for flying first class), the Denver airport is the definition of soulless, and – as usual – the people flying to Omaha were particularly unattractive.

Council Bluffs is as bland and impoverished as ever. Everyone has dirty cars, all the snow is grey, it’s cold as hell, and the radio has four flavors: Christian, Rap, “Oldies” and Country. THANK GOD I bought the satellite radio with me, or I’d be sticking my head in the oven.

Speaking of my head, I had my hair done yesterday at a barber shop down on Main Street, so now I look like all the natives (just 75 pounds lighter). Like most of this town, the barber shop is high camp without realizing it: Lots of bad 70’s paneling, gold-veined mirrors and vaguely Mediterranean plaster statuary.

On a positive note, the thrift shops are as fabulous as they ever were, and there are even more bars downtown than there were in December!!! I found a handle for the Fryer, and a turquoise princess phone for only $2.00! I also saw a can opener by a brand I’ve never heard of called “Magic Hostess”, which is just too good not to buy.

Mom is doing pretty good, all things considered. She’s not quite bald as a cueball, but close, and she has a good sense of humor about it. She’s mostly just really tired and terribly bored. But that describes most of the people in this town.

The man from Orkin came and Mom got into a discussion with him about how stupid the war is, and how terrible the president is. The Orkin guy was a big Republican, and tried to defend Bush, but she shut it down pretty quick by asking him how many people he had "over there". That's the nice thing about being old - you can say whatever you want.

I’ve been cooking up a storm (meatloaf last night and pot roast tonight) so everyone is eating well. There’s a new grocery store out by the mall that actually carries good quality products and has quite an extensive wine department.

Tomorrow I have a jolly adventure in Omaha (taking the car to get serviced) and it’s expected to be a balmy 14 degrees! I’ll keep you posted.

Some Lovely New Things

My separation from Today's World Magazine (which is quickly descending into a tabloid rag, btw), and my temporary transistion to Christian Homemaker has given me more time to pursue the quality things in life.

Take baking, for instance: Cookies are cheap and cheerful, and a relatively low-impact way to indulge one's sweet tooth. For special occassions, a cake can be whipped up easily, especially using today's mixes. But both require a mixer.

My poor dear turquoise Mixmaster is simply not up to the task: It was making terrible groaning sounds and getting hot. Plus, it's cord is alarmingly brittle, so I thought it best that I look for a "daily driver" to do the heavy lifting. Imagine my delight to find, while enjoying a lovely afternoon in Bremerton, this beauty:



It's a vintage Sears Mixer! According to my 1963 Fall catalog, it was available for $34.50 in four colors: Pink, White, Turquoise and Yellow.

After some rather heavy cleaning involving some ancient dried-on batter, I fired it up, and it works like a dream! All for $6.00 and some elbow grease.

Then it was time to tackle the problem of the cookie sheets. I had those typical crappy discount store sheets that would warp when in a hot oven. A trip to the local Cash 'n Carry (just down the hill, over from the bowling alley), and I walked out with four nice heavy-duty cookie sheets like bakers use, for only $7.00 each!


(I love the Cash 'n Carry by the way - much better than Costco, and no membership required. An essential stop in any party preperation, and THE place to buy glassware in bulk - their Libbey wineglasses are restaurant quality, and built to last! The only flaw is that they don't sell alcohol.)

But moving onto decor: Many of you commented on how awkward the Grundig looked at the Christmas Crush. And you were right: It was too low on the floor, yet too high on a table. It definitely lent a false note to an otherwise exceptional living room (or, if you prefer, Sala Grande!)

Imagine my delight, when visiting the Lake Forest St. Vincent de Paul, I encountered a lovely Grundig Consolette, which looked like it would fit the Sala Grande! like a glove. Ridiculously enough, it was on the "toss" pile because, as the philistine who was working the donation dock told me "them don't sell" (yes, they know their marketing: Everyone knows the huge demand for ugly vases and pressed wood furniture that they accept with enthusiasm)

Anyway, I took it off their hands, bought it home, and shined it up. Lo and behold it worked perfectly, and is now residing happily in a corner of the Living Room (Sala Grande!)



Finally, see that tasteful little lamp on the left side? The one perched prettily on the cunning little teacart? Well, that was perfectly acceptable - desireable, even - until yesterday. That's when I found this:



Let me just say this, right from the get-go: Yes, it's a cheap, rather poorly executed knock-off of a classic Arteluce lamp. (You can see a real Arteluce lamp in Vicky Lester and Norman Maine's Living Room in the 1954 version of "A Star is Born") but real Arteluce lamps are more expensive than anything I would want in the house, so this is a nice compromise.

So, as you can see, while economy is the watchword of the day, you can still have pretty, functional things in your home.