My Charmed Life

The Harford Rd of my Dreams

I just learned that Joe's Record Paradise on Harford Rd is closed as of tonight. Joe's was the first local store I visited after we bought the house. I scored a Root Boy Slim album which I hadn't heard since I was a kid. A neighbor sent an email to the neighborhood list, informing us of the closure and taking us all to task for failing to support this local business. His censure is a little unfair -- it is difficult for a neighborhood to support an independent business entirely, especially a niche outfit like Joe's. Also, indie stores do better when there is critical mass of such shops, each attracting customers who then explore the other area shops. For now, Lauraville has the Red Canoe, Brian's Finds and Designs, a recording studio, and a few shops planned for the property across Harford Rd from the Safeway. Further north, at Harford and Strathmore, is Tridson Fashions. These shops are scattered now, separated by lots of empty lots and abandoned houses, so Harford Rd remains a sort of wasteland punctuated by a few shops, grocery stores, and hair salons, until you get to Hamilton, which runs heavily to bars but also has a camera shop, a janitorial supply (the only place I can get my vacuum cleaner bags!) a few greasy spoons (Zorba's makes quite nice subs), Big Bad Wolf Barbeque (YUMMY!) Eidelweiss Bakery and, of course, the library. The Harford Rd. of my dreams has a candy shop, a fiber-arts store, a craft-collective, a yoga studio (we may actually be getting this one!), a natural foods store, a used book store, a toy store, an art gallery, a few nice restaurants, and a better thrift store than the one we've got now. I won't mention the Aldi's/Family Dollar debacle since it seems an Aldi's is opening at Frankford and BelAir, which is still walking distance as long as I've got my old-lady cart and bus-fare in case it rains.

In which I encounter numerous assholes...

Winter's been taking a break this week, with Spring filling in, so the kids and I have been out and about up Harford Rd. (to the library) and down (to the Safeway and the Red Canoe) where we encountered an unusual number of assholes. Asshole number one was the woman in the mercedes who flicked her butt out the window, along with her coffee cup and a wadded up napkin, before speeding up to run the red light at Hamilton Avenue. At least the incident afforded the children an opportunity to curse a blue streak -- they normally curb their language in public, but the outrage was apparently too much for them. Little children (5 and 8) can curse with a creative abandon unmatched by an sailor. At least, my little children can. This weekend I'm gonna swipe a gif of Woodsy the Owl and make 'Give a Hoot' tshirts for them, in honor of their performance. After the litterbug, a drunk stumbled out of Hamilton Tavern and exhaled his nasty cigarette smoke in my face before producing a mighty beer belch. Gross! But I didn't react -- I figure anyone down and out enough to be drunk at 9am has all the problems he can handle without some pregnant lady with kids hollering at him. Besides, I have a lot of drunks in my family, half of whom are estranged, and I can never be sure the drunk I encounter isn't a blood-relation. The third asshole (and we're only halfway there folks!) was some suit who stood in the middle of the sidewalk next to his suv with the flat tire haranguing some poor AAA representative. When I say the middle of the sidewalk, I mean the exact center --- no room either to his right or left. He was standing next to a bench, and his door was hanging open, so we had to squeeze in between the back of the bench and the Harford Dialysis center to get by since he ignored my repeated 'Excuse Me!'s All went well at the library, but we made the mistake of sallying forth the following day for the Red Canoe. On the way, we didn't have any up close and personal encounters with assholes, but we witnessed three of the nastiest, most aggressive drivers ever. The first, not liking that traffic was a bit slow, leaned on her horn from somewhere south of Southern Avenue and kept leaning until she was out of earshot. She could be blaring still for all I know. I got a look at her too, and, barring her facial expression, looked like someone's sweet old grandma. Which she probably is, when she's not a demon on wheels. Second and third assholes were just your typical crosswalk and crossinglight violators who would rather run over my children than stop their damn cars for two moments while we cross the street WITH THE FULL BLESSING OF THE CROSSING LIGHT. We made it safely to the Red Canoe , a haven in the wilderness to be sure.

chicken noodle soup

My hands smell of onion and celery; I am making chicken noodle soup for supper tonight, and since I don't have fresh celery I've added a pinch of strongly scented celery seed to the broth. I pinched it in my fingers and let the children sniff it, to see if they could identify the smell. I hope that these small pleasantries give them a sense of well-being, a sense of being at home. The house smells delicious --- onions saut�ed in olive oil, chicken simmering in broth, freshly cut carrots, and yeast rising on the radiator yields a comforting, fragrant hint of a delicious meal tonight. The children ask periodically (every 3 minutes) whether supper will be ready soon and I always say yes even though I know that 'soon' , to a child, means 'now'. Yesterday they were not as eager. I made chickpea stew with butternut squash, simmered in apple cider, seasoned with ginger, cinnamon, and cilantro (the recipe also called for saffron, but I can't persuade myself that it's worth the price) served over whole-wheat couscous. Both of my children are dedicated carnivores in the fall and winter. Their favorite cold-weather meals are roast chicken, spaghetti and meatballs, chicken noodle soup, and beef stew. In the summer we eat pasta or rice with saut�ed vegetables nearly every night. Zuchinni, tomato and cheese casserole with corn on the cob, pasta with wilted chard, pine nuts, and romano, orzo with sugar snap peas, tomato salad, tomato sandwiches, tomato soup! Now is the time for roasted meats and vegetables, soups and stews simmered all afternoon, rich tomato sauces with meat, baked casseroles with lots of cheese, savory pies. My favorite time of day in the spring or summer is early morning, but in winter it is late evening when we're well-fed, when the children are freshly bathed and pajama'ed, and I can sit under a blanket with a book or some knitting while the children play quietly just before their bedtime.

We're gonna be famous!

I hustled the kids out the door around 11 this morning, hoping to get a library visit in before the snow/sleet/freezing rain began. As soon as I parked I remembered that thursday is a 12-8 day. Our branch, Hamilton, is open either 12-8 or 10-5:30, Monday through Thursday. If I were in charge, libraries would be open from about 8a to midnight. Each branch would have a water fountain, a cloakroom, and comfy reading chairs. We have none of these at Hamilton. Not even a water fountain! When the kids are older I might set up a Friends of the Library group for Hamilton.
Anyway, since the library wasn't open yet, I took the kids across the street to
Edelweiss Bakery for an early lunch. A reporter from the Sun (no link, because I'm mad at the non-local owners!) snapped a few of the kids gawking at the gingerbread houses, ad a few of them eating lunch. I'd ordered their signature sauerbraten (sour beef and dumplings served with red cabbage) and the reporter asked if she could take a few pictures of my plate before I ate. If they run the story with that picture, Sun readers all over B'more will see the plate of sauerbraten that I enjoyed just moments after the picture was taken. It was delicious! At the library I picked up Marilynne Robison's 'Gilead' a book about stroke, and a pile of picture books for the kids. By now the snow was sticking to the sidewalk, but the roads were fine, so we felt quite jolly on the way home.

Why can't Elijah Cummings be my congressman?

Ever hopeful that I'll find something worthy of Found Magazine, I tend to pick up many of the discarded scraps of paper in which my city abounds. I find a lot of schoolwork, including (today's find) an unfinished (indeed, barely begun) report on Rep. Elijah Cummings (7th district). I'm stuck with Ben Cardin, who doesn't inspire me to the trouble of making a link. He's a middle-of-the-road democrat who is, I believe, going to run for Senate to replace Paul Sarbanes, who does well enough but also doesn't merit a link. I've heard Elijah Cummings speak at a community meeting once, and I've heard him on the radio, and I like him. A lot. Anyway, I found the unfinished, barely-begun report on Rep. Cummings on my way to the library, which was officially opened for 15 more minutes when I arrived but I was cowed by the dimmed lights and general air of closing shop which pervaded so I left with nothing, not even a mystery paperback. I'm not actually stuck with nothing to read, but I'm damn close; all of my current unread books are ones that just haven't caught my fancy yet, and I don't want to start reading them before they call to me. I guess that's why I'm all of a sudden updating my lj again after a hiatus -- must. keep. brain. occupied. Tomorrow I'll be at the Maryland Renaissance Festival and the library will be open on Monday so I think I'll manage until then. Maybe I'll even get to those snickerdoodles.

local crazies, reading

The kids and I stopped by Joe's Record Paradise on our way home from the post office this afternoon, where we were accosted by a man who kept hovering too close to me. I loathe when people invade my personal space, especially when they mutter so that I feel compelled to smile or nod even though I know they're not really talking to me. This guy is one of our local homeless schizophrenicsm, and I've had the pleasure of his company on the bus several times. He is at least relatively quiet. Last week we had a ranter on the bus, as well as a drunk who kept falling over onto the children. Somehow they both still love to ride the bus.

I didn't make snickerdoodles as planned to today, but I got a lot of reading done. My new Clamor came, with Jackie's article in it, and I found my Tin House under the kids' bed. Also, I finally finished reading "The Flight From The Enchanter" by Iris Murdoch on my fourth attempt in as many years. Her opening chapters are usually very compelling, but 'Flight' isn't the first one drew me in only to lose me by chapter 5. I'm glad I (finally) stuck it out. It was interesting to meet some of her earliest characters, and to speculate about who they developed into in later novels. However, the characters weren't as satisfying as they are in other of her novels. Mischa Fox, who dominates the other characters, somehow fails to dominate the novel, and is never adequately revealed. He exercised a mysterious and compelling influence on the people around him, but for seemingly no reason. Murdoch's demons are usually more believable. I liked most of the characters a lot more in the beginning of the novel than I did by the end, particularly Annette. The Polish immigrants Jan and Stefan were CREEPY!!!!

snails, jargon, and the shot tower

The mnemonic that will enable me to recall which form of "it's" I want doesn't exist. I love snails, but I'd still get it wrong. My ability to think, concentrate, and remember is impaired due to: too many drugs, birthing 3 children, mothering 2 children, having thyroid disease, and living in 21st century America. Too bad for me!

I just squandered two perfectly good hours trying to figure out how to format this blog, because Mr Charmed, genius coder of B'more, never has time to help me. I want one of those "What I'm Reading" lists in the margin, so I can keep a list of the fiction, nonfiction, and zines I'm reading. I also want a "What I'm Knitting" margin list, with links to my wips, ufos, and fos. Knitterly Jargon! But not frightfully difficult for the bright and capable acronym decoder.

Now that I've set up my blog, I'm waiting patiently to produce scintillating prose about my adventures, with and without the tribe, here in mobtown.......well, perhaps tomorrow. I will just remark, before retiring to the basement for my nightly bottle of stout (could be Guinness, could be Youngs Double Chocolate, I never know until I get there) that I once, as a third grader, took a trip to the shot tower. This was back when you could climb up pretty far, perhaps to the top (although it might just have seemed that way to a 3rd grader) and look out. I still think it would be swell to actually drop molten lead (was it lead? but lead is soft) into a tub of cold water.

It looks warm outside, but it's really very cold and my house is almost as cold as it is outside. I don't remember which "its" gets the apostrophe -- is it the contraction or the posessive? I have a Strunk and White nearby, but I'd have to come out from under the blankets to fetch it . I hate ending sentences with 'it'. Okay, I googled 'its or it's' and the consensus, judging from the links, is that it's the contraction that gets the apostrophe. I'm not entirely pleased. Anyway, this is just a sort of test entry so I can see how this works. I want Mr. Charm to help me figure out how to use movabletype to format my blog when we both get some time.