Leaves

Many of the blogs I've seen lately are filled with beautiful pictures of the changing leaves, some hanging on valiantly as winds tug in their efforts to tear them from their lofty perches.  Winter will soon be here and the bare branches will await their spring rebirth.  This is a poem I wrote about the leaves.

Leaves

A season of such beauty,
Nature's artistry unfolds,
The foliage all around us,
Reds, crimsons, even golds.

The air is fresh and crisp,
Winter snow hovers near,
Autumn leaves in brilliant beauty,
Add their notes of festive cheer.

A vibrant canopy of leaves,
Offers shelter from the sun,
Until a rising evening breeze,
Sends them flying, one by one.

By morning and the falling rain,
The lovely leaves are no more,
They have fallen from the trees,
And lay on the forest floor.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright © 2007 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved

Ginger Drop Martini

One of my favorite San Francisco restaurants is Straits, with its unique dishes from the countries along the Straits of Malacca, the main shipping channel between the Indian Ocean and the Pacific Ocean. There are wonderful choices of Indian, Malay, Chinese and Singaporean dishes, some cool, some spicy with exotic cocktails to tempt the taste buds. My first visit there, I had a ginger drop martini and it immediately became my all time favorite drink. Determined to reproduce it at home, I embarked on a long series of trial and error taste testings, with a dear forensic nurse colleague and two of my adult sons as guinea pigs. Finally, several bottles of vodka and many pounds of ginger later, I declared my ginger drop martinis equal to, if not better than, those at Straits Restaurant. I began taking them to our forensic conferences where they were polished off in short order. As they are quite labor intensive, I began to invite only those most worthy to share in the samplings. Here is my recipe.  Skol, okole maluna, cheers, bonsai, and all that jazz.

GINGER DROP MARTINI

 

2 Parts Vodka     1 Part Ginger Syrup

½ Part Sweet & Sour Mix

In a shaker with ice, combine vodka, ginger syrup, &  sweet & sour mix.

For more ginger flavor, peel and slice ginger to make one cup – add to one liter of vodka.  Let flavors mesh for 48 hours, then store in freezer

     If you cannot find ginger syrup, you can make it by combining two cups sugar, two cups water, and 1 cup of fresh ginger (chopped fine) into pot and simmer for one hour. Strain ginger syrup and it is ready to use. Remember to keep the syrup in the fridge.

Rub a piece of fresh ginger around the rim of a martini glass and dip in sugar. Pour and garnish with the ginger slice.

I always make a huge batch of this, at least quadruple the recipe.  It is a bit of a pain peeling all that ginger.  Fortunately for me, I live in a Filipino neighborhood, with a great grocery that sells ginger by the sack.  I pick a good television watching night and get the peeler, my sharp knives and get started.  If you don't like the taste of ginger, this is NOT the drink for you!!

Georgia

I went out again with my friends last night....will post those pitures later.  I am really enjoying getting to spend so much time with them.  Tonight, we're going out for Greek food!  I am also accomplishing a few things for my mother as well.  In two weeks, thanks to Dale Wommack and St. Mark's Church here in Columbus, my mother will get a hot meal daily at lunch, from Monday to Friday, complete with a beverage and dessert - she loves butttermilk so I am sure that will be her choice.  Also, she finally agreed to see her doctor and I am taking her, first thing Monday morning to Dr. Fussell's office!  That is the biggest relief of all to me.  She has been off her medication for hypertension for over a year.  At the very least, she needs blood work and I am sure he will do that!

The best news of all is that my brother and his wife sold their home in Florida and will move back to Atlanta, into their new home there, on Thursday.  They will be only about a hundred miles from my mother which will take some of the burden off of me, 2500 miles away.  They always lived in Atlanta until my brother decided he wanted to be near the beach about eight years ago, much to my sister's dismay ( she's always felt like a sister to me, not just a sister-in-law ).  Like a good wife, she humored him and, finally, he agreed to move back home.

I would never move back to Georgia myself, not even to Atlanta which is quite a nice city.  It's too hot in the summer and too cold in the winter but I still feel a lot of love for my home state.  I penned this poem not long ago and I wanted to put it out there, especially for my Georgia friends who are now reading my blog and for those of you who are not familiar with this state.

Georgia

I think of you with fondness,
This state of my birth,
With your Chattahoochee River,
And deep red clay earth.

In the spring, you're abloom,
With dogwoods and azalea,
And you claim that famous onion,
That comes from Vidalia!

Long known as the Peach State,
You're known for peanuts, too,
And before the boll weevil,
Huge fields of cotton grew!

You are a part of our history,
One of the original thirteen states,
You can boast the sea and mountains,
In the list of Georgia's greats.

There is Southern hospitality,
And giants of industry, too,
Amd a mix of U. S. military,
Thrown into the brew.

Georgia has so much to offer,
And no matter where I roam,
I'm proud to say my roots are there,
You will always feel like home.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright©2008 Carmen Henesy. All Rights Reserved.

Los Amigos at Los Amigos

Last night, I joined my friends, Beth and Luther Stanton, for the weekly rendezvous with their friends, Dale and Tommy Wommack.  Their choice of dining establishments was a cavernous Mexican place, called Los Amigos, newly relocated near my mother's house.  We were warmly greeted by Laeticia who they knew from the previous restaurant and I was delighted to be able to speak Spanish again.  The place was nearly empty but the five of us made enough noise to rival a Saturday night crowd.


We ordered margaritas, of course, and my poison was a "top shelf GRANDE with a shot of Patron reposado on the side, minimal ice.  Talk about tasty!  Much to my surprise, they even had entertainment - a very good guitar player who even accommodated our request for 60's songs.  

I couldn't believe he even knew music from that era!  Once we had enough of our margaritas on

board, we even provided loud and off-key lyrics to his playing.  I don't think he really minded as we did put money into the tip jar and applauded loudly.

Luther, me and my margarita

Luther and Beth Stanton, Carmen Henesy

I laughed so much at all the stories the Stantons and Wommacks told of their adventures together.  I've missed out on a lot living so far away and only coming home for such short visits. 

Dale and Tommy Wommack

Dale Wommack and Beth Stanton

We spent about two hours talking, singing and laughing.  We ate so many tortilla chips with hot salsa and cheese dip, we weren't really hungry anymore so the five of us shared two orders of chicken fajitas which were really good.  It was a terrific evening for this group of senior citizens!

Blessings

Blessings


Though I mutter about the drizzling rain,
And, as I grab my umbrella, I complain,
For the parched earth below, the glistening drops
Are a blessing.

Work is brutal and the hours long,
And, I wait impatiently for the closing gong,
But every week, when my paycheck comes,
The money is a blessing.

They run shrieking about in whirlwind play,
And seem to ignore what I have to say.
Yet when I hear their prayers at night,
My children are a blessing.

Our country, at times, seems such a mess,
But regardless of this, I must confess,
That to live in the United States, to me,
Truly is a blessing.

I'm growing older, that's for sure,
And, try as they might, there's no cancer cure,
But I woke up this morning,
And that I regard as a blessing.

Carmen Henesy

Copyright (c) 2009 by Carmen Henesy
All rights reserved.

Catfish and Hushpuppies and the Best Massage Ever!

Usually, when I'm visiting my mother in Columbus, GA, a meal at Ezell's Catfish Cabin is a must.  You can get "all you can eat" whole catfish, fried in cornmeal batter, with unlimited cole slaw and hushpuppies for under ten dollars.  I think their hushpuppies are the best I've ever eaten - full of onions, corn and jalapeno peppers.  For those of you who aren't sure what hushpuppies are, they are a Southern dish, made of cornmeal, flour, eggs, salt, baking soda, milk, and water, and can include whole kernel corn, onion, spring onion, and peppers.  The batter is crisply fried in hot oil.

Different stories have arisen as to how the name came about but they all have to do with bits of the fried batter being tossed to the dogs to quiet them, hence, "hush, puppies."

I was so disappointed at Ezell's this time because they were not serving the whole catfish due to the excessive heat the past few days.  They said the catfish were not up to quality because of that.  I was content, however to eat shrimp, a whole plate of hushpuppies and their great cole slaw.

These were once swimming in a lake, river or stream somewhere in the South!

Ezell's is your down home type of setting - no fancy linens or candelabra here!

Yummy high calorie, high fat hushpuppies!

 

Cheese grits ( or Georgia ice cream! ) and catfish fillet 

I was supposed to leave tomorrow to return home to San Francisco, after ten days with my mother here in Georgia.  Last night, though, she begged me to stay longer.  We still have so many things we did not accomplish, the most important of which is getting her to a doctor.  I finally decided to change my flight and to stay another week.  I figured the one hundred dollar change fee will be less expensive than trying to fly back next month, which I really cannot afford to do.  I need to get back and try to find work but I kept thinking about all my mother has done for me in my life and that made the decision easier.  So I will be here until November 11th.

Today, I decided to go and get a massage.  Jennifer Stanton Clifton, the daughter of my friends, 

Luther and Beth Stanton is a licensed massage therapist.  She was booked up at her normal place of business but she was nice enough to let me come to her home today.  I hadn't had a massage since before the news of my impending job loss in February.  I have both spinal and cervical stenosis and I've suffered from chronic back pain for over 20 years, since I had extensive back surgery after a fall in the operating room where I worked.  Hydraulic fluid had

leaked from one of our surgical tables and I slipped on it when I went running out of the room to get blood for the case.  

At any rate, Jennifer did some deep tissue work on me - definitely a bit grueling at times - to work out all the knots - but it was the best massage I've ever had.  I am a bit sore tonight but I can move better than I have in months.  I will definitely go back for another massage before I leave Columbus!  My problem is, how am I going to manage monthly sessions with her when I live 2500 miles away.  Jennifer was telling me that Bob Hope once said that the secret to his longevity was that he got a massage every day of his life.  If I had his wealth, I would definitely indulge myself!  I am also regretful that, in all the years I've been visiting, I never had Jennifer give me a massage before!  All that time wasted!  

Next time, pehaps, I'll see her at the Joseph House, in the historic district of Columbus, which houses an art gallery, showcasing the work of Southern artists and also offers massage therapy to clients.  I stopped there today to see the art work on display - lovely pieces in all types of medium, some very reasonably priced.

 

 The Joseph House

Fifty Years of Friendship

While I was born in Columbus, GA, I was an Army "brat" so my early years were spent in various places - Ft.  Bragg, North Carolina, Salzburg, Austria, Frankfurt, Germany, interspersed with stints back here at Ft.Benning, GA and in Columbus.  My first year of high school, I attended boarding school in Cullman, AL before coming back to attend Columbus High School for my last three years.  I didn't make many local friends, except for other Army "brats" like me.  One exception was Luther Stanton, whose family was Columbus born and bred.  He was, if I recall, designated the class "most handsome" and quite a catch.  He had a great sense of humor and had a propensity to goof off quite a bit.  I took pity on him and would often tutor him  when he needed a little help with his studies.  He would always try to include me in school activities and events which I usually declined.  I just never felt I fit in.

After graduation, I headed to New Orleans to nursing school but my friendship with Luther continued.  Whenever I would be home for holidays, we'd get together and he came to visit me in New Orleans.  A few years passed and Luther began dating a lovely young Columbus High student, Beth ( her maiden name escapes me ).  They ultimately married and moved to Houston, TX where I frequently visited a nursing school classmate from Charity Hospital - and, of course, I always saw Beth and Luther.  The Stantons ended up moving back to Columbus, GA which was nice for me.  I always had my dear friends to see when I went to my home town.  Interestingly, Luther had a cousin living not too far from me in northern CA so we would occasionally get together on the West Coast. 

About fifteen years ago, when the Stantons were at their cabin on the Chattahoochee River back waters, Luther met with a debilitating accident.  He was on his jet ski when someone plowed into him, causing mutliple fractures and injury.  Airlifted to the Medical Center in Columbus, he spent days in ICU and underwent repeated surgery.  With hundreds of prayers bombarding heaven, the love of his wife, Beth, and his incredible positive outlook on life, Luther survived all surgery and osteomyelitis - and I still have my wonderful friends to visit when I'm home. 

Saturday night, they picked me up and took me over to their home for pizza and the World Series.  I got to meet the yellow lab they saved from extermination in the very nick of time.  Their

beloved, eight -year-old,   Molly, also a yellow lab, died recently, a devastating event for them.  Beth had been checking out the animal shelters for another yellow lab.  When she was notified that there was a dog at the pound, her daughter went over and met a sweet, but rather forlorn creature, who had a growth on her ear and who was infested with fleas and had ear infections.  Somehow, as Jennifer started to leave, the dog gave a bark and that did it.  Beth called Luther and the rest, and a couple hundred dollars later, is history.  Lucy, in a little more than a week, has been neutered, has has a tumor removed from her ear, has completed a course of antibiotics and is one of the sweetest dogs I've ever seen.  She loves Luther and Beth and the feeling is totally mutual!  Molly's dog spirit must have been there, playing matchmaker!

This is Lucy.  The vet thinks she is about 2-years-old.

Already, she is so bonded to Luther and Beth!

 

This seems like a strange way to sleep.

Now, that looks pretty comfy.

I think I am more the lap dog type...who says it's only for the pekinese?

Ohhhhhhhhhh, Beth is so soft!

Leg paralysis soon!

When Luther and Beth found out I hadn't rented a car, they insisted I take Luther's little truck to use.  What wonderful friends I have!

Here they are - Luther Stanton, my friend of FIFTY years...I cannot believe that much time has

gone by ( till I look at his white hair ) and his lovely wife, Beth

I cannot thank them enough for their love and friendship for half a century.  When we are together, it seems like we are back in high school.  In spite of our aches and pains and the white hair ( I thank the scientists at L'Oreal, etc, for maintaining mine at a color more like that of my youth ).

Happy Quarter of a Century, Jeremy Vukasinovic

Twenty-five years ago, at this time, I was weary of leading a very off balance existence and waddling with a weird gait.  My ankles were a thing of the past and my disposition ranged from surly to moderately unpleasant.  When I began having intermittent contractions, I was delighted.  "Let's get this show on the road", I muttered to the football player cavorting in my womb.  However, as he was to do for quite a few years to follow, Jeremy demonstrated he had a mind of his own.  

I waited impatiently until my contractions were five minutes apart and then headed to Mt. Zion Hospital in San Francisco,  I had driven that same route many times for my first few years in the "city by the bay", having first worked on their child and adolescent psychiatric unit and then in the operating room.  Once on the delivery unit, things moved swiftly, a bit too quickly!  It seems that traffic, and my stopping to chat with colleagues ( my mouth always gets me into trouble ) allowed labor to progress nicely!  Jeremy was ready to see the light of day and my epidural hadn't been given.   I was rushed toward the delivery room, yelling, "Wait, wait, I can't deliver.  I haven't had my epidural."  Well, you know what, my youngest son, all nine pounds, eight ounces of him arrived very quickly thereafter, sans epidural!  Of course, he did aspirate a little meconium and was soon whisked away to the intensive care nursery.

When I went there to visit him, he seemed quite strange, the jolly giant in the midst of all the little neonates, outweighing them by five to seven pounds.  He looked as though he was stuffed in the incubator.  Fortunately, his sojourn there was very brief.

For the first year of his life, Jeremy was bald....no hair at all, just a shiny noggin.  I did
incantations, considered transplants, and asked his pediatrician if the kidney stone manipulation
I had undergone in the 7th month of pregnancy, with its radiation, could have affected Jeremy's hair follicles.  Dr. Bernsten merely laughed and told me to be patient.  At last, the day arrived and gorgeous golden tendrils grew.  I could hardly bring myself to cut it!  It wasn't till his late college years that he let it grown again.


Jeremy is my "baby."  He is a wonderful young man and I am very proud of him as I am my other two sons.  He is part of the "testosterone trio" that has made up my household.  He graduated from Cal Poly, San Luis Obispo, in June 2008, with a degree in kinesiology, after having gotten an A.S. in fire technology two years earlier from College of San Mateo.  He played high school football and did track and, during his college years, he was a decathlete.  I never knew a thing about track and field but I learned a lot sitting through those ten events over the years, wondering if my 6'4" son was going to break his neck flipping over those poles.  I was always less anxious about the throwing events.

This is Jeremy on graduation day from Cal Poly, June 16, 2008

Jeremy, last year, on his 24th birthday

Since I am not  at home, I don't have photos of his new look handy though you can see him, before and after his haircut ( the curls went to "Locks for Love" ) and photos of my other sons in my blog, "Only Six Months to Go."

I'm sorry I am not home this year to wish you a happy birthday in person, son.  You know that I love you very much and that, even though I was hoping for a girl, I wouldn't trade you for all the daughters in the world.  I appreciate your love and concern for me and, even though I may complain about your efforts to get me to exercise and get off some of these excess pounds, I KNOW that you are only wanting me to have a better and healthier life.

It seems like only yesterday that you made your debut on this earth.  I found this poem I once wrote for you so I thought I would add it to this post.  Happy quarter of a century, dearest Jeremy.

Jeremy

Born as bald as you could be,
You were a massive brute,
It took a lot of pushing,
To get you down that chute!

By the time you turned age two,
You'd sprouted golden curls,
And were looked upon with envy,
By a horde of little girls!

You and Alex drove me mad,
More than once a day,
Playing Ninja, and emulating,
Shawn in every way!

You did the unforgivable,
Disclosed his liquor stash,
Stored behind a dresser,
it was emptied in a flash!

Middle school was painful,
We seemed to always fight
And yet, at times, you'd fill me,
With absolute delight.

High school passed so quickly,
Football star and such,
How did a gangly six-year-old,
Ever grow so much.

College is astounding,
My son so strong and tall,
Brilliant, curly, decathlete,
You seem to have it all!

 

Carmen Henesy