Just received a call from a volunteer at Delaware Hospice -- does this sound familiar --Jan, who called to check on Rudolph Nyhoff and his needs for the weekend and whether they were sufficient. We had a nice talk and I told her that I had a similar volunteer position in Augusta, Georgia. IN fact, I need to get in touch with those nurses, who I'm already losing in my memory banks, and tell them of my dad's situation here in Wilmington.
Finished the 2nd box of Cream of Wheat since I have been home this morning and as a reminder, I took a photo of the box, its successor and the "unappetizing", though tasty, cereal, which spilled over, on the range.
blob of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter" which is melted into the whole/Carnation
milk(s) combination.
I am doing more than ever posting and responding on FB than ever. Loyd Dillon is posting each day in the month of "thankful" November describing, in excruciatingly delicious detail with writing so superb, his loves in his life. Today's was taste and I offered a few comments that ended with a description of my mother's Italian sausage and peppers.
Day of Thanks #15. I am thankful for the sense of taste. On my way home from teaching at CPCC all morning, I picked up a light lunch for Brenda and me at Second Helping Charlotte. As soon as I took a bite of the tangy pulled pork sandwich with homemade slaw, my mind, my heart, my memories, my tastebuds and my saliva glands all reminded me of how much I love good tastes. Like you, I have my favorites: sweet potatoes baked until they caramelize then with several big pats of butter melted onto/into them; sliced, seasoned, battered and crisply fried slices of yellow crookneck squash like Granny Dillon made; creamy potato salad like Mom made; fresh collards with some vinegar AND hot sauce on them; freshly ground Amaretto coffee; crisply fried liver mush or liver pudding; good licorice; and lemon...absolutely lemon...almost ANYTHING lemon. I could go on but I won't. Hmmm. I have a late afternoon appointment. I may pick us up some dinner instead of cooking for Brenda and me. Second Helping again? Full meals this time? I'll decide soon so I can smilingly anticipate the intertwined aromas and tastes. What are some of YOUR favorites? Because I'll bet I'm not the only one who is thankful for the sense of taste.
Just received a notice via FB from the Philadelphia Orchestra page with this historical note:
"On this day in 1943, 25-year-old Leonard Bernstein made his debut with the New York Philharmonic. Five years later, he made his debut with The Philadelphia Orchestra, on December 17, 1948. Here is the great and popular conductor rehearsing with the Orchestra at the Academy of Music that year."
Enjoying a wonderful late afternoon talk with dad, Dancer at my foot in the addition, he is on the couch, eyes closed and I talk to him about what I think as the meaning of life and go onto spout about making a difference (mention the shared FB post -- from Don Edwards -- about the Make A Wish Foundation and the young boy who plays Bat Kid and saves San Francisco from certain destruction; 1000s participated and the San Francisco Chronicle even printed an edition with stories written by, you guessed it, Lois Lane and Clark Kent about the heroic acts of the young leukemia survivor, whose disease is in remission -- that is what the purpose of life is) and he is, unfortunately, clueless. In fact, I'm just back to the keyboard after his cry downstairs ... about what you ask ... it is the fact that the coffee grounds have not been cleaned from the Mr. Coffee machine. It should be done in the morning, he says, nonsensically, and I wonder what is the big, frickin' deal. Why is he so upset and why did he have to raise his voice. He calms when I question him and seems to get more rational ... well, we talked this afternoon and got onto the topic of the Last Four Songs of Richard Strauss, a work done in his last days, a piece of timeless beauty. I mention the recording that I heard prior to taking Dancer into the vet office with Renee Fleming, an incredible performance, but no, the one and only, unapproachable performance is that of Elizabeth Schwartzkopf, who sings now, Mozart arias from a compilation of her early work as a singer.
Yes, there is only one recording of the Strauss that bears the scrutiny of the ages and none other. It cannot be changed. Things have their priority and their place in the pantheon of great artistic efforts and they are fixed and permanent.
As dad finishes his roast beef with mustard and tomato on, for heavens sake, Serpe's rye bread (not soft enough, it's not his special Pepperidge Farm bread that is far softer), so I go downstairs to get a knife and cut up his sandwich and he drinks his Ensure, but the NewsHour is coming up and I find, to my delight, after telling him of the anniversary of Bernstein's surprise conductorial debut at the podium of the NY Philharmonic in 1943, I mention the Great C-Minor Mass of Mozart and his recording and I FIND IT on YouTube and as we start to listen, the NewsHour starts and he has to listen so I stopped it, but before I hit the halt button, I begin to feel the tears come on for the section Laudamus Te, the singer, who is lovely, is not Arlene Auger. Here is the link and a photo of the conductor at the podium of the big orchestra and choir:
Yes, there is only one recording of the Strauss that bears the scrutiny of the ages and none other. It cannot be changed. Things have their priority and their place in the pantheon of great artistic efforts and they are fixed and permanent.
As dad finishes his roast beef with mustard and tomato on, for heavens sake, Serpe's rye bread (not soft enough, it's not his special Pepperidge Farm bread that is far softer), so I go downstairs to get a knife and cut up his sandwich and he drinks his Ensure, but the NewsHour is coming up and I find, to my delight, after telling him of the anniversary of Bernstein's surprise conductorial debut at the podium of the NY Philharmonic in 1943, I mention the Great C-Minor Mass of Mozart and his recording and I FIND IT on YouTube and as we start to listen, the NewsHour starts and he has to listen so I stopped it, but before I hit the halt button, I begin to feel the tears come on for the section Laudamus Te, the singer, who is lovely, is not Arlene Auger. Here is the link and a photo of the conductor at the podium of the big orchestra and choir:
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