Susan's Scribblings the Blog

A writer from the Philadelphia area shares the week online.
Susan's Scribblings the Blog
  • Who the Heck is Kayewer?
  • Monthly Archives: April 2023

    • Damn the Damp

      Posted at 4:56 pm by kayewer, on April 29, 2023

      Some places in America received too much winter weather. In California, the record-breaking total was over 56 feet of snow. That’s about the height of a half dozen or more average persons standing on each other’s shoulders. In the Sierra Nevada region, they experienced the second biggest snow totals ever (the first occurring in 1952). The snowpack determines the future of water resources, and the resulting melt will likely refill long-dried-out aquifers and remove much of the drought damage from the past several years.

      In some places, the sight of rain is still the object of disdain. The past two days we’ve had rain on the East Coast, and one would think the cars had stopped working. Streets are nearly empty, and the only people who begrudgingly go out are the parents who pick up their children from school.

      We tend to not like snow or rain, simply because things become wet when we don’t want them to. Both are a necessary part of life on this planet, and Earth would not thrive without the change of seasons. It may be inconvenient to wear a coat and hat or boots, but we seem to be the only species to be inconvenienced by inclement weather. The bison don’t seem to mind the snow, and in fact they look interesting dusted with white during a blizzard. Dogs and cats shake off moisture. Ducks and aquatic birds pay little attention. Modern man, however, gears up against the horrors of moisture in the air as if it were poisonous.

      Sure we’ve had the issue of acid rain come up, but not lately, so don’t go there.

      Visit any major city after a rainstorm, and you will see discarded umbrellas in trash containers everywhere. It seems that once the threat is passed, any reminders of it must be thrown away. Some of those unfortunate bumbershoots were blown asunder by the accompanying winds, and are nothing more than twisted skeletons with the skin of water repellent fabric hanging in tatters. Another popular discard is newspapers, which are either held overhead folded or tented to protect fragile hairdos. We never seem to be prepared for when rain will come, or we’re embarrassed when we’re ready for it and it doesn’t come. The scout motto “Be Prepared” no longer has a place in modern social circles.

      There are pleasant things to look forward to after a rainstorm, such as a rainbow, or sunny beams emerging from a cloud bank. We sometimes rely on mechanical sounds of the rain to soothe us to sleep or relax us during mindfulness exercises. It’s the physical presence of water we detest when we’re not under the showerhead for the purpose of hygiene.

      It would be nice to make peace with our planet and accept that a little rain is required to fall, and the occasional snow event is inevitable. We don’t have to hole up until they pass. And they do pass. At least places like California will have something better to look forward to when the last pile of snow melts under the spring sun.

      People are likely to cheer.

      That’s better than complaining about it.

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    • (St)Ale Beer

      Posted at 7:26 pm by kayewer, on April 22, 2023

      I have noticed something new on a list of things that, like many that some of us of a certain age grew up knowing, may be going away. I’m talking about ginger ale.

      Whether you’re the Canada Dry, Schweppes or Seagram’s type, we grew up with ginger ale as a choice of carbonated soda other than the popular trio of Coke/Pepsi, Mountain Dew or Seven-Up. The golden drink over ice was often employed to settle upset stomachs, because ginger is a known help for this ailment. In recent years, the Canada Dry people have stressed that they use real ginger in their ginger ale (as of 2018, this is not the case, as evidenced by a lawsuit about the company over its ingredients). Unfortunately, the soda is also known for its high sugar content, and some brands use artificial flavor.

      The substitute we see most often today is ginger beer, which is a more fermented product and has a sharper taste. Both use some form of fermentation, according to sources, but ginger beer will have a slightly higher alcoholic content by nature of its brewing method. This may explain why the popularity has soared: people want something with alcohol in it (even if it doesn’t need to be sold at the wine and spirits counter). And yes, it still helps calm upset tummies.

      I have had trouble finding real ginger ale. Besides the gold standard from up north, a brand called Fever Tree is also a natural version in a bottle. The problem is, the ginger beer is on the shelves, while the ginger ale isn’t.

      I did find a brand called Q in a can which is quite pleasant, but I’m down to my last two cans.

      In a world of crazy colors and combinations, the lowly mixer may be just another victim of being too ordinary when compared to the promise of drinking something with “beer” in its name.

      Since I’m not particularly fond of beer, I guess I must make some effort to seek the holy ale.

      I’ll see myself out.

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    • Crumb Wars

      Posted at 4:52 pm by kayewer, on April 15, 2023

      I am starting to cultivate a dislike of tacos. I make a weekly stop at the local fast food distributor of these items, and I purchase a couple of the crunchy versions to go, which is where the problems begin.

      Crunchy tacos must be the worst portable food in the world. They’re supposed to be handy. I don’t see it.

      They are born on an assembly line resembling a corrugated ramp; the shells are slid down to a preparation station, where a worker dumps a proportioned lump of hamburger, which is moist enough to begin the process of eating through the corn shell at the bottom. The worker then adds the lettuce, tomato and cheese, and attempts to carefully wrap the rather stuffed thing without breaking the shell.

      From the moment the bag leaves the pickup window, the tacos begin getting soggy. By the time I get them home, set up my eating space and unwrap the first taco, it’s breaking up at the top and dropping toppings through the bottom. Also, the hamburger juices have stuck the taco to its wrapper.

      If, by some miracle, the taco is still viable and does not stick to the wrapper, the first bite usually sends a cascade of lettuce, tomato and cheese all over creation.

      And the taco is cold.

      When I witnessed the domestic incident a couple of weeks ago (see “What My Eyes Saw”), my tacos more closely resembled a nacho plate after somebody sat on it, when I finally got home.

      Mind you, this degradation process happens during a less than ten-minute drive from the warmth of the assembly line to the warmth of my eager stomach. Despite my best efforts, it still happens.

      You might think I can avoid the issues and simply get a soft shell taco, which is essentially a mini tortilla with the same ingredients. Like the burrito (which is another fun adventure in eating), if you want to add sauce to your food, the tortilla sticks to itself, making it nearly impossible to peel apart the edges to add sauce unless you take a bite first. This means you take a bite for the team, since it won’t taste of the ingredients you like jacked up on sauce. At least I can get the flavor I want the minute I open up a taco, because the top is open and ready to be sauced.

      Oh, and the burrito is never fully folded correctly. There is always a gap for leakage. Even if the gap isn’t facing downward, the juices will overflow it like a clogged sink and drip onto the consumer.

      I have considered adding a lobster bib to my taco consuming ritual. There is also the notion of eating shirtless. I hate having to run laundry to get an orange beefy grease stain off any color upper body wear, since it shows up on anything. I have lost more arguments with tacos than any burger, ice cream or water ice in the land.

      So I have decided to try ordering nachos instead. At least I know I won’t sit on the plate. They’re already a mess, and I will get what I’m paying for. I may even have some crunch left in some of the chips when I get them home.

      One of the things I miss about working in an office is getting nachos for lunch. We had a cafeteria staff who could put together the most salivating inducing and luscious platter of nachos. You picked your toppings, and they took a ten-second trip to a table where one could enjoy the variety of flavors spread before them. No sauce required.

      If it works, I may leave tacos behind, and only visit the occasional burrito.

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    • Egg Head

      Posted at 4:33 pm by kayewer, on April 8, 2023

      I made egg salad today to consume tomorrow, because any good egg salad preparation expert knows that it tastes better after having absorbed all the flavorful goodness you’ve stirred into it, and that takes at least 24 hours to accomplish.

      For those who might need a recipe, here is mine:

      Tangy Egg Salad

      Six (6) eggs, hard-boiled
      One (1) container Miracle Whip
      Onion powder to taste
      Celery salt to taste
      Course black pepper to taste

      Alternate add-ins: paprika, chopped celery.

      To hard boil eggs, pierce the blunt end of each egg with a pin through the shell, then set eggs in the bottom of a saucepan and cover with water. Bring to a boil, then turn heat down and cover pan with lid. Continue cooking on low for 12 minutes. Drain water and replace with cold water, then jostle the eggs in the pan to crack or do so on your counter. Peel through the shell and inner membrane at the blunt end for best results.

      For egg salad, cut eggs to desired size by hand or with egg slicer and place in a suitable-sized bowl. Start with a spoonful of Miracle Whip about a third the size or less of your egg volume; add seasonings to lightly coat the dollop, then stir lightly with a fork. Add more of any ingredient until combined without being too creamy or spicy. Cover and refrigerate. Makes approximately two servings.

      During this process, the wire in the egg slicer broke, thus bringing an end to the long life of a kitchen gadget that has been in the home for as long as I can remember. Ordered another from Amazon before I forget and end up with no slicer when I need one.

      Nothing brings back good childhood memories than the sight of an egg salad sandwich, crunchy with fresh lettuce–and a few select potato chips for garnish–between two fresh slices of bread.

      Some readers may balk at Miracle Whip, and I can tell you that mayonnaise, any brand, is just fine if you’re not a “whip” fan. I have found that “whip” fans often do enjoy mayo, but not the reverse. It’s a matter of palate, and I’m certainly not going to argue that here. What is important is the love that goes into the making of a special meal.

      Break out those eggs. And don’t break the egg slicer.

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    • What My Eyes Saw

      Posted at 5:54 pm by kayewer, on April 1, 2023

      Often we read about domestic violence and assume that it tends to happen at home behind closed doors. News articles tell us that police are called to a home on such-and-such a block, and we usually ignore the details. Sometimes, however, violence comes outdoors, and I witnessed something brutal between two people last week shortly after posting for this weekly blog.

      On my way home last week, I stopped to pick up dinner, and I was waiting for traffic to move from the opposing direction before heading town a secondary road. As I slowed down near a supermarket parking lot, my eye was drawn to something light moving to my right, which turned out to be somebody parked perpendicular to the other parking spaces, leaning into the back seat of a two-door white vehicle. I quickly saw that it was rather lanky man wearing sweatpants which were tenaciously held up at his hips. That makes the seat portion of any trousers wrinkle with every move like a tethered flag struggling to free itself. I didn’t pay more than a second’s attention as I pulled further forward waiting to merge.

      It was then that movement caught my eye again, and as I looked over, the man had retrieved a woman from the back seat, pulled her from the vehicle, dropped her to the ground, and was now standing over her with fists raised and his voice filled with anger. The woman held up her hands defensively as she tried to back away while he restricted her movement.

      In an intense moment like this, lots of things happen at once; I determined, first of all, that he was not wielding a weapon (thank goodness), then that I wasn’t sure if anybody else was in the vehicle, for my thoughts went instantly to whether children were witnessing this. My next idea was a course of action, so I activated my emergency services in my car and asked the advisor to contact the police department for me. The next thought that came to me, while the advisor was talking to me (was I in danger, what was happening that the police needed to come, etc.), was whether I should intervene, pull out my cell phone and record, or something–anything–to put a stop to what was unfolding. The police station was literally two addresses down from the shopping center, but being a weekend, nobody was there, at least not in front of the building.

      In the time it took for this, a matter of seconds, the man had stepped back, and the woman got up and entered the car again through the passenger side.

      The answers to my first questions to myself came up as no, and I felt my best action was to get away from the traffic, so I drove the few yards and pulled into the police station parking lot as the dispatcher came on the phone. I relayed the details of what I had witnessed. A police vehicle, which had apparently been in the back parking lot of the station, sped out of the driveway, lights flashing, as I finished the call with dispatch.

      She thanked me for calling it in, and I told her that if I were in such a situation, I would hope that somebody would call for me.

      I left contact information, but nothing ever came of it. I will never know if they were still there, or if the woman was okay. I will say that I believe the assistance available out there can help a person get out of a situation of domestic abuse, so I am including the Domestic Abuse Hotline at 1-800-799-SAFE (7233) or you can text 88788.

      I’m glad I didn’t do nothing, but I can still see the images of that terror in my mind, and I can’t do anything about that. They may never go away.

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