RIP Joan

Joan Rivers passed away today. I think she must’ve been surprised that her time came up so suddenly. I wish we could hear what she’s saying about that.

Here’s something she managed to do that inspires me. The NYT reported it in her obituary:

“But, struggling with grief, Ms. Rivers traveled for a time, then fell back on the resilience of laughter and revived her comedy career. As she told widows and other sorrowing women at a lecture billed as a ‘grief seminar’ some years later: Think positive. Make a list. ‘One, I don’t live in Bosnia. Two, I never dated O. J.’”

[1987 was a bad year for her, too.]

Reminds me of the time-tested gratitude list: “I’m not drunk. I’m not in jail. I’m not dead.” Today, that one would not work for her.

RIP Joan. Godspeed.

Rule of Two

My mother never gave me useful tips for living. Her training of me was based instead on orders and must-dos: make your bed, eat breakfast, watch your language, find a man but don’t take him if I have him first. That sort of thing. Much of my energy for years was spent on reviewing her many orders and deciding which I wanted to keep because I liked them, and which I needed to give up. I needed help with that. I learned to create my own way of being and living, based on what I needed, not what someone else thought was important. The Rule of Two works for me because I live in a very isolated area (a ferry is required to get to a store) and I don’t like running out of things. I like to keep a well-stocked home. So my solution? Buy two of each nonperishable to start, and then add it to the shopping list when I finish the first and open the second of the pair. My family is trained to the system, and it works well for us. I understand that it’s an expensive proposition to start but it actually saves money in the long run, since putting the item on the list before I run out gives me time to wait for a sale to replenish. And, truth be told, I do stockpile certain things in certain seasons: sugar and baking supplies, including nuts, for example, when they go on sale in the fall. I used to stockpile other things, and hide them; but that’s another post.

Hildy’s Polka Dot Chocolate Chippers

To Hildy, the beautiful and loving mother of my friend Joanne, these were simply “Chocolate Chip Cookies.” Believe me, you can safely insert “Perfect” or “The Best” because they are. I’ve made thousands of them since 1981, and Joanne has made thousands times thousands. Hildy no doubt made more batches than either of us. They are soft and rich, with crispy edges, and just the right mix of sweet and salty, which is amazing since they were developed decades before the salt-caramel-and-chocolate phase we’re all rolling in so happily now. Like pigs in the mud, as my grandfather used to say. This past August, I finally made good on a years-ago promise to Leon and entered them into our local county fair. I needed a special name to set them apart from the plates and plates of competition, so I named them “Hildy’s Polka Dot Chocolate Chippers.” I never deviate from Hildy’s original recipe, except to switch the types and amounts of nuts and goodies I add, reaching beyond one bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips. (Have I mentioned I tend to be a person of excess?) Pecans instead of walnuts, or peanuts if I add M&Ms. For the cookies I entered into the fair, I added dark chocolate chips plus milk chocolate chips plus white chocolate chips. Hence, the polka dots. No surprise to Leon, but a total surprise and thrill to me, they won a blue ribbon. How wonderful is that? I’m taking the ribbon to Joanne when we visit in a few weeks. I think it will make her happy.

Rabbit, Rabbit

I said “Rabbit, Rabbit” first thing this morning.

I’ve tried to remember to say “Rabbit, Rabbit” before I say anything else on the first day of each month since 1978, when my friend (and then roommate) Jeanne told me that if I did this, I would enjoy good luck for the entire month. If I forgot, and said something else first, all bets were off. Her family had followed this custom as far back as she could remember. For years, so far as I knew, she and her daughters and I were the only ones doing this. I had no clue about the origin of the custom. But I wasn’t going to take any chances. I kept trying to remember, and I felt bad when I forgot. Why tempt fate? Two years ago, another of my friends let me know that he says “Rabbit, Rabbit” too. His mother taught him to do it. I learned this because he posted it to Facebook. As comments to his post flooded in, I learned that many, many people do this; and there seem to be as many origin theories as there are practitioners. This process to me is the perfect example of what has happened since the Internet became such a constant presence in our lives. Things we do or think that we thought were unique are not. People are eager to share what they do, and they’re (generally) happy to learn that others do it too. A new definition of “community”: people widely dispersed, who’ve most likely never met one another face to face, who discover a common bond that’s often quite obscure. And, oh! The amount of information we all have access to, whether we want it or not! Our brains are overloaded with it. But sometimes there’s a benefit: I’ve learned for example that all is not lost if I forget to say “Rabbit, Rabbit” first thing on the first day of the month. I’m not doomed to a month of bad luck after all, because there’s a workaround. If I remember to say “Black Rabbit” last thing on that first day, I’m saved. My forgetting is erased and good luck will be with me for the entire month. This must be true. I read it on the Internet.

And so it begins.

Today I’ve found a way to collate all the bits of information I’ve collected because they’re important to me in some way. Bits to bytes. Here they will reside, categorized, accessible, and safe, till the Internet ceases to function or WordPress freezes over, whichever comes first.

Now comes the fun part. Write on!