The Phone

Source: etsy.com via Barbara on Pinterest


We had one just like this.   It was hung on the perfect spot in the kitchen, between the broom closet and a glass brick window.   There was a ledge in front of the window that held the small black home phone book of personal numbers, a pencil and some paper.  The two large phone books, one white pages and one yellow were usually stacked on a chair that the youngest child sat on after they were out of the high chair. After that, they were stashed in the broom closet.

The cord was very long so my mom could cradle it on her neck as she moved around the kitchen, one hand running water, or cooking and the other holding the ubiquitous cigarette.   It was the only phone in the house for a very long time, until the parents had a second phone jack installed where it sat on their night table. I can still remember my old phone number plus the numbers of a few of my best friends.

We never knew who was on the other line as it rang but we did know it was someone we knew, so it was always answered.  If we were not at home, it just rang and rang.  The idea was that, a missed caller would keep calling back until someone was home.

No caller ID and no answering machine.  Man, how we roughed it.  Well, we never got calls from marketing companies or folks disturbing us as we all sat down to eat because that would have been rude. Everyone knew everyone else was eating between 5 and 7 so making calls at that time was only in case of an emergency.

Monopolizing the line for more than half an hour was just not allowed.  The line had to remain open just in case.  Of what, I am not sure but it was the rule.  Making a long distant call was a big deal and had to be discussed. Panic ensued if the phone rang and it was the operator requesting we accept the long distant charges from someone who needed to get in touch with us. I remember, as a child, hearing discussions at the kitchen table after the phone bill arrived.  My mother had cousins in Vermont and a sister in NY city so the occasional call was expected, especially if someone was planning a trip to see them.

When I was a teenage, I used the phone more.  I remember hearing about families with 4 or 5 children who installed a second line just for the teenagers!  Of course, the notion of having a second line just for me, in my bedroom was out of the question, but I fess up to a bit of envy. 

Calls to and from boyfriends were sweaty, nausating times.  What to say, who was lurking out of sight, listening to me, how can I squeeze more of myself into the broom closet without everything falling and making a huge crash. Parents yelling from out of sight, "Get off the phone and do your homework". Thinking about it now, the boys must have been in exactly the same sort of anguish.

The other rule my mother insisted on was I was never to call a boy, out of the blue.  It was implied that if the boy was interested in you, he would be the one to call. She was a wise person who innately understood the potential for teenage girls to become stalkers, even before stalking was an issue. She said she was protecting my reputation.  Apparently girls who called boys were asking for trouble.  I remember one time a boy called.  I was not home.  My father took the call and told me. The boy was calling to confirm a date to go to a concert; times etc..that I had already agreed to go on with him. I figured he would call back.  He never did, but I did get all ready for the date. He never showed up. Plus I never heard from him again.  He must have assumed I was one stuck up bitch, which was not the case.  I was just following the "no call to boys" rule.

When Frank and I moved here, we were surprised to learn our area was still on party lines. It was kinda confusing.  I was used to answering any sort of ring.  Now we had to wait to hear our particular combination. It was also annoying if I needed to make a call and it was already in use... sheesh!  In time and at more cost, the phone lines were upgraded to a single line per home.  We still only had one phone for the whole home.  Then we purchased an answering machine to get calls we missed.

Now we have 3 telephones in the house.  One is wireless and the other 2 are hard lines.  The wireless will not work when the power is out so back up is required.  Since we also live in a so called "dead zone", using a cell phone is pointless.  We do have one, but it is only used by either Frank or me, if we are in the car.  No NO... we do not drive and talk. When we see others doing that, we wish we had a machine gun mounted on the hood.  He may call me from work to see if he needs to pick up anything at the IGA or if we are going someplace, the passanger will use the cell to call ahead letting them know we are getting closer. No games or camera on our cell.  It holds numbers only.  Yes, I am of a different mind/time set and when it comes to THE PHONE. These are my memories.

Tagged memories phone

Strong Women Via a Blog friend

I am a woman with a strong personality. I am not a bitch. I do carry an inner bitch which I allow out when needed, but I see no value in being that bitch. There is a happy medium.

My husband knew I had a strong personality when he met me. It helped that he was used to a mother with a strong personality. Not a very nice personality, actually, but at least he had no background of expecting a submissive woman.

I don't do submissive. I wasn't raised that way. My mother was a woman with a strong personality, as was my grandmother, and my great-grandmother. I believe a lot of this stuff is cultural, you see, at least within the culture of one's own family. It was taught in the gentility of Victorian society, that a woman was submissive to her husband.

Well, my Victorians weren't gentility, they were fishwives, so we skipped that little cultural trap.

Some women, to a greater or lesser degree value the submissive woman thing. Not always for the right reasons, either. You know, it's none of my business, but I certainly wouldn't encourage it. The only advice I've ever given my daughters is "go easy on him, he's only a man".

Men making decisions for the family? No. Even if they are the sole income provider that doesn't work. It may be "his" money, but he isn't the one running the show, and he has no real feel for what's needed and what's not. If the woman is a spendthrift then it's time to discuss a budget, not treat her like a kid.

You became a couple because you fell in love. The decision was to be a partnership. Whether you married or not, the day you began to live in the same house and share the bills, because you loved one another, there was a tacit partnership agreement. There was no agreement of master and slave.

(Occasionally there is, and that's none of my business either, but I fail to see the benefit. Well, to the slave anyway. The benefit to the master is bloody obvious.)

Anyway, partners. Not one boss and one yes person. Agreements. Compromises. Taking turns. Sharing.

I have a very old-fashioned marriage where for the most part, he brought home the money, and I ran the house. This was our agreement. Occasionally I've had people think that this meant I was submissive.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

(Martin, if you read this, if I hear choking, I'll help you up off the floor).

Somewhere in my husband's wildest dreams, I do something his way. Once.  Briefly. Pity about those wild dreams. eh.

BUT, and this is very important...this does not mean I boss him about. It wouldn't work anyway, he has an equally strong personality. I need that in a man. I could not tolerate a submissive man any more than I could be a submissive woman.

So some wonder how this works.

ROFL

Well, to begin with we talk to each other. We ask. There are times that a compromise has to be struck, but generally we have "areas" where one or the other's needs "win". I would never dream of going out into the garage, re-organizing it, or throwing out his stuff. He would not try to touch..........well, pretty much everything else actually, but again, in fairness, I'm here all day and he isn't.

He is not expected to do ANY housework. Same reason. In fact he often cooks, and will do laundry, dishes etc without actually being asked. But as the bacon provider, he gets to put his feet up of an evening.

Every couple has to sort stuff out for themselves, who does what, who earns what, who pays for what, yada yada. Every family is different, you can't follow anyone else's model.

But that's practical stuff.

No matter what else, no man has the right to conquer a woman's spirit, and that's where this blog came in. Karen wrote about shrinking violets, women who defer to their men to make decisions. Like those Victorians who did not let their wives read newspapers. They were expected, in conversation, to parrot their husband's opinion.

Some men are dictators. They dictate who she sees, what she does, where she goes. But above all they affect what she thinks.

That's not a partnership. That's abuse.

Somebody forgot what they became partners for.

There's no wiggle room here. If you marry, or simply move in together, you are partners, and to treat a partner as anything less than an equal, an equal mind, an equal body, an equal spirit, is wrong, it is abusive, and it is NOT love. Ever. There is no love in domination. There is no love in "it's for her own good" (OR VICE VERSA). There is no love in punishing one's partner. Punishing! That's what we do for crimes.

It's not even funny. "I got him back". Did you? Why? Don't you love him? Do you remember why you got together in the first place?

Of course you're not going to agree on everything. DUH. Of course there are days when you  could strangle your partner. Nobody said that a partnership was an easy ride.

A strong woman goes into a relationship with her eyes wide open. She does not think that it will be "romance" all the way. She does not think there will never be discord. She does not, if she's sane, think she can fix HIS bad behaviour with HER submissive behaviour. That is a spiral downwards, it is bad news, it will lead to tears.

If a man was a saint, then maybe, just maybe, a submissive woman would be OK. But men aren't saints. They are human. They easily fall into behaviour patterns that would take advantage of submissive women, and just for good measure, grow to hate her for exactly that submissive nature. And dump her and move on.

And we can blame the men, if we like, but they are only taking advantage of a situation.

I blame the mothers. What we teach our daughters.

In Africa, it is the women who encourage and perpetuate female genital mutilation, for the same reasons.

Yeuk.

 

via chovhani.multiply.com

Plain folk common sense

For the Love of Food : Arroz con Leche; Rice Pudding recipe

May 25 2009

Arroz con Leche – Rice Pudding – recipe

This recipe takes me back to my childhood. The sweet smells that fill my kitchen while cooking this just brings a smile to my face. I find that when I am pregnant I am more homesick for the foods that I grew up with, especially desserts…which I would otherwise rarely eat.

There are plenty of ways to make rice pudding, but the best way is never the quick way…ever. This dish requires time – you will need about 1 hour to prepare it – and you will have to stir it often, so you won’t be able to leave the kitchen.

There are 2 “secret” ingredients that this recipe cannot do without: cinnamon sticks and lime peel. Save the ground cinnamon for sprinkling on afterwards, the sticks will give them a much deeper flavor and the lime peel gives it a special hint of the tropics.  Always remember that “time and lime make it fine”.

I believe this recipe was passed down to my mother from my father’s uncle’s mother who is Cuban.

Ingredients:
1 Cup White Rice (I used Jasmin Rice)
1/2 Cups Water
the peel from 1 Lime (leave peel in large pieces so that it can easily be removed).
1 long Cinnamon Stick
346 grams Evaporated Milk
~778 grams Water
1 Cup Fructose (or sugar)
1 teaspoon Vanilla Extract
ground Cinnamon, to taste

Directions:
Wash the rice and place it in a large pot with 1.5 cups of water, lime peel, and cinnamon stick. Cook over high heat until the water is almost completely evaporated – make sure not to let the rice stick to the bottom of the pot!!

Add the evaporated milk, about 778 grams of water (or your evaporated milk container filled with water 2 1/4 times), fructose, and vanilla extract. Mix well to separate the rice and to remove any rice stuck to the bottom of the pot.

Bring to a boil and then lower heat to medium and simmer for 30-45 minutes or until it has reached a thick consistency. While still hot, remove to a serving bowl and sprinkle with ground cinnamon. Serve warm or cold.

Makes 3-4 cups depending on type of rice used.

My site was nominated for Best Food Blog!

One response so far

One Response to “Arroz con Leche – Rice Pudding – recipe”

  1. # Happy Cookon 25 May 2009 at 12:24 pm

    I love rice puddin, and what i love aobut this one is the addition of the evaporated milk.
    Looks so yummy.

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My Politics


Just so you know... I have not blocked out the excesses of the previous Liberal governments. I know what they have and have not done.  I listen to both sides, via CTV news, CBC news, the Montreal Gazette and other political sources that gather such info. Sure, I could rattle off several ethical embarrassing faux-pas the present Conservative government has been caught up in, but what use would that be.  Those who see no evil there, will still see no evil.  Those who want to cast aspersions on the opposition will always have damning ammunition to to fire off in all directions. 

I don't think I am unique in my level of interest of what is going on in MY country.  I know there are extremists in both ends of the spectrum.  I suppose, for me, it is more about the big picture of how I see MY Canada.  I do not see myself as an extremest.  

I feel any party who is in power too long, tends to take advantage of questionable situations and at times throw ethics to the wind... Politicians are complicated. That is not an excuse for unsavory activities.   Not all the members of any party are guilty and not all are innocent.  What is important is what gets done in the areas people feel are most important to their quality of life. Sure we do not want what gets done to involve patronage, graft or nepotism. Unfortunately, the facts, at times have proved otherwise. I think this sucks!  The only thing I can do about dicey politicians is vote them out, write letters and sulk.

What do I think is important to my quality of life?  First off the economy = jobs and job training. If most of the folks are able to work, then there is money to spend, taxes are paid and all sorts of programs are able to be put into place, infrastructure maintained and so on...  Next is health care... Canadian style, government run with all it's foibles and glitches, excluding greedy insurance companies who are only interested in bottom line.  Then it is education. To me, this means pay teachers more.  The future of our children depend on these people. Those are my tops.. next come, not in any sort of order: environment, Canadian identity issues, including the arts, telecommunications, Afghanistan, G8 spending! (good lord)

My personal opinion of our present Prime Minister, I think, reflects the thoughts of many Canadians.  He is sorta creepy and he does behave like a despot. He will bear no criticism on any level, so he has built a cone of silence around him.  Reminds me of the story - The Emperor's New Clothes.

In my opinion, Canadians did not fall so freely into recession the past two years because our banks very clearly did not allowed the same practices here as there were allowed in the U.S. Granted the Harper government did implement a vast plan to infuse the economy with more money because we were affected by what DID happen in the U.S. to some degree.  He was right to do this.  It was a good thing and it worked.  Any government in power would have implemented the same measures. Only the Liberals would have been a tad more, shall I say, Liberal and the N.D.P. more so.

He is also guilty of removing funds from areas that, to me, he should have let be.  The result being, we are losing some ephemeral but necessary ability to BE Canadians.  It is not easy to be who we are living next to .... well you know.  Harper does identify with the far right in the U.S. and that, to me is crazy creepy.

I do not mind that Canadians are in Afghanistan. I do mind that our troops are directly in the line of fire.  Since 2002, 146 members of the Canadian Forces have been killed serving in the Afghanistan mission.  Four Canadian civilians have also been killed, including one diplomat, one journalist and two aid workers.

For decades, since the Pearson years, Canadian forces have been known as peacekeepers, not fighters on the front lines. I would not mind if our troops returned to that sort of mission.

Some folks choose to like or not like a person based on their political stance.  How crazy is that?  I like or not like a  person based on how they treat me, how kind they are, how loving they are.  Again, in my opinion, I think there are loving, kind, compassionate folks in all political camps.  If I agree to disagree, please do not take it personally. We are all headed for the same dirt farm and eventually cosmic dust. 

It is really how we identify/empathize with the daily doo-doo anyone has to contend with at any given moment that verifies to me, we are connected in so many ways, it boggles the mind.

Namaste - and keep dancing!

Amazing Grace or Not!


Actually, to me, all that was missing was that song.  Oh... what am I commenting on?  LOST, of course.  Yes, I was among the zillions of folks watching this 6 year long epic about a bunch of folks who ALL DIED. Where was Melinda? Isn't she the character(Ghost Whisperer) who tells LOST ghosts to go into the LIGHT. She did that already.  I forget what season she has to wander around a field finding LOST ghosts and telling them, "Look for the light and just GO".  Her writers must have already figured LOST out and were giving us a BIG hint.

I remember watching the first few shows and actually postulating to Frank that no one could have survived that horrific crash. They MUST be all dead, but for some wacky TV reason were trapped in a zone not unlike the biblical spots referred to as Limbo and or Purgatory. Dante would have SO approved.

So for 6 years the ghosts/souls had to connect OR not, find love, give love, forgive and be forgiven.  They were all issue driven, carrying a huge amount of baggage which would be indicative of every single human being living now.

Granted, there were many questions left unanswered.  It was a modern day Odyssey, made for the masses, filled with defining choices we all connected with from time to time.  We saw good and bad consequences, much joy, sadness, anger, bewilderment, and love.  We lived the choices, felt the emotional roller-coaster of each character. We rejoiced at redemption and nodded in agreement when justice (to us) was dealt in agonizing brutality.

The things left hanging are there for us to ponder soulfully.  Ben must forgive HIMSELF before he can enter the light.

It was an interesting ride.  I was not very surprised to see them all come together to feel the communal love that is necessary for all of us to experience.  We are all connected.  That may sound trite, but our lives here and now are a reflection of the journey the LOST souls took.

Do not forget to dance, dude!


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