Mmm...Coke bottle steak!

This is, in truth one of my top favorite meals: Coke bottle steak, mashed potatoes and peas (peas can be substituted by green beans or black eyed peas). For those of you who don't know, it is called "Coke bottle steak" because back in the day you would use a glass Coke bottle to tenderize the meat. I have to admit I've never actually done that...as a purist I suppose I should give it a shot next time.
It is not "heart healthy", "low carb" or "low fat-high fiber". It is, however delicious. The perfect beverage to accompany such a culinary delight is of course Coke (which must be substituted by Coke Zero). You need the acidic effervescence to wash the grease down your throat.
As the Betty Crocker cookbook of the 1950s says "Compliments galore are in store for you when you prepare a nutritious and delicious meal for your family"! This is exactly the kind of supper that would be suggested in that cookbook; beef accompanied by a vegetable or two. Plus, bonus points for frying the meat!

I bought four Blue Willow divided cafe dishes over ten years ago envisioning this very meal served from them; the meat in the largest section, the peas and mashed potatoes nestled snugly in their own segregated compartments. Wow, these dishes are truly from the era of segregation; you don't want your different food groups touching each other!
I haven't made Coke bottle steak in at least 5 years, I figure it can't hurt me twice in one decade. When I was growing up and I got sick, rendering me unable to eat much Mom would always ask me "What do you want me to fix you darlin'? Is there anything you can think of that you could eat?" As soon as my condition improved my answer was always the same, "Coke bottle steak with mashed potatoes!" Just like when Dad asked me what I wanted for breakfast the answer was always the same, "Bunny Eggs and grits & toast!" That's another meal that is very well suited to these dishes; grits in one compartment, toast next to grits, bunny eggs in the largest compartment. Perfection!
I left the house after dinner and when I came back I remembered why I don't cook this more than once every five years; my house smells like a damn Soul Food diner! It smells good while it's cooking but after you're done eating it transforms into a greasy, fatty, stinky stench...
But, it was worth it!

Mmm...chemicals!

Today was my 14th Tysabri infusion. I make my once monthly infusion days self indulgent and stress free and I enjoy them. Plus I take the best naps in there.

My best vein has finally scarred up so I don't use it anymore; too bad, it's the most comfortable site to stick. Now we're using the one on the inside of my right forearm; the "junkie vein" as I think of it! It kind of grosses me out, plus for some reason it hurts more than the crook of my elbow did. I know that sounds bad, but this spot always conjures up images of heroin junkies with their forearms all purple and infected. Grody.

Anyhow, it went smoothly except the part where I had to wake up from my short nap. I told myself I was going to go home and get in bed, but I didn't. I don't trust myself to nap at home, I'll end up sleeping 4 hours.
As a person who has an "intolerance" to all other MS disease modifying drugs, I am very satisfied with Tysabri. I haven't had any bad reactions to it, and more importantly I haven't had any relapses since I've been on it. I hear lots of people complaining about having to inject themselves every day, every other day, or once a week with one of the 6 MS drugs. I didn't have a problem with the method of administering the drug, just the violent illness that came after.
Aren't we all lucky that we have so many options to treat MS now!? It used to be your only choice was Prednisone. Don't even get me started on how awful that is.
Ten years from now there's no telling how much medicine will have advanced, for MS and other diseases that are currently incurable. I am prone to fantasize about living in another time in history, but who am I kidding? This is a good time to be alive!
I agree with the 1950s saying, "Living better through Chemistry"!

ROYAL Arrow portable 1941

I am the proud new owner of a Royal Arrow Portable typewriter circa 1941!
I had so much fun looking them up when I got it home last night. I have always wanted one and this one just fell into my lap for a cool $10.10. My favorite thrift store "V.V." has a nasty habit of writing the price directly on everything with a grease pencil, note the price on the top right:
I think this a good omen and will serve as an excellent totem for this blossoming writer.
As an ardent admirer of old things especially of this vintage and I am just way too excited. I straitened out the ink tape that was all tangled last night and even hammered out a few sentences. It works perfectly, no dings, no scratches. Isn't it just the darlinest thing?
While reading up on them I learned that they have no "1" key, you just use the lower case "l", no telling how long it would have taken me to figure that out once I discovered it. I've notices the exclaim point is conspicuously absent. What is that about? I feel I overuse it myself, maybe that would solve that problem... Also I learned that the keys are glass; little glass circles cover the white on black buttons. Older non-portable models had beveled glass sides allowing a view inside the machine to marvel at its wondrous inner workings. Kind of like the clear desktop Mac of its day! This little portable model is more like the laptop of its day. It boasts such "user friendly" features as a glare reducing matte finish, it is stripped down to reduce bulk and weight having no noise dampening padding.
When I was little my Mom had her mother's 1960s mini type writer in a closet downstairs. It was pea green and had its own charm, but it was not near as cute as this one. I loved looking at all it's long keys, just like these:

I enjoyed all manner of tinkering, no torturing that poor little type writer. Kids are Hell on things, they can't help it. Note to self; if I ever have children I must try to remember that. I noted with satisfaction how efficiently the keys would tap the type onto the paper when struck one at a time, and how they would run into each other if you were clumsy and pushed two at once.
Here's a picture and link to a website that sells these and has some good information on them.
http://mytypewriter.com/royalarrowportableof1941.aspx
I wonder how something so cool ends up being given away to the thrift store? Well, their loss is my gain, don't look a gift horse in the mouth and all. I have to guess it belonged to an "old person" who died and their kids had to go through and clean out their house and just threw lots of stuff out.
I'd love to know about this machine's former life and what it was used for. Did it write boring business stuff, novels or mm...short stories? One can only hope. I like to think that it belonged to a real writer, that is to say, one who writes. I don't care if the writer was published or "successful" in any conventional sense. But I hope it was an instrument of a true wordsmith. I hope it helped someone create.
I love things from this era. I have a couple of gorgeous Singer sewing machines that remind me of this that I adore using. I am also a glutton for furniture of this period. Maybe hours of wandering through my Grandparent's house during nap time fostered in me a love of all things '40s?

Well I'm off to tinker and play with my toy. I can hardly "type"; I only took one class for it in school and I'm a terrible cheat, looking down at my hands frequently.
Time to buckle down and see how I do!
Of course typing on this keo boarfd is way easier than on the twenty pounf monster above. See how bad I typw when I donbtr look down
>? I;ve got my work cut out dor me1!

Light

I'm waiting for things to grow. This is my favorite window in the house, it gets plenty of southern exposure. When I build my dream house it will have lots of windows facing the south so I can bask in the natural light all winter long.
It will also have skylights all over the place. Of course it will be out away from town so I can have my horses and chickens, and so I can see all the stars at night.
One summer when I worked at Philmont our showers were outside. It was wonderful! I love showering outside. When I build my house it will have an outside shower for when you get too dirty to come inside without cleaning up first. It will also have a skylight over the tub so when I shower at night I can look up and see this...

But for now I have to improvise...

I made my own starry sky to gaze at in the shower. It's not the same, but I like it. Nice huh?

You have to be able to improvise. No waiting around to be happy and enjoy life.
Be here now!

on a cold winter's day

Today was a bright and cold kind of winter day, the kind that makes horses high strung and frisky; makes them difficult and fun to ride. What thrills I would have at the farm on a day like this! But not today, today I stayed home in town and just enjoyed feeling good for the fist time in days. Recovering from a sinus infection has been cramping my style but I got back to it today.

I got back on this feather tree that's been calling my name low these many days. I sat working on it through the afternoon; hours and hours of feathers feathers and more feathers! Twisting and twisting feathers onto the branches with wire, very repetitive and satisfying kind of work. I love repetition, it's so peaceful and calming, does good things for my brain.

Earlier in the day I stood at my kitchen window in the warm sun light for a long time, looking for excuses to linger there. I polished silver and washed dishes and planted some bulbs. I planted a pink & white Amarylis, and paper whites in silver sugar bowls. The paper whites always make me think of a friend's mother, I guess because I remember her having them in a window by her chair one winter. I don't know why that sticks out in my mind.
Do you ever have a people who turn up in your thoughts over and over for a time? Makes me wonder what they're up to, why are they on my wavelength? I've had old friends turning up in my dreams lately, girls on tall horses, friends in my old stomping grounds as I sleep. Maybe I just conjured them up to keep my fevered mind company as I slept...


...or maybe my dearest old friends are a part of me, always on my mind, always in my heart. People I spent many formative years with are permanently in my m ind, even the ones I haven't seen or talked to in ages, they make up part of who I am. I wonder if they ever think of me while they're doing dishes...while they're planting bulbs?


When this Amarylis grows tall and slender out of it's pink ceramic home, what will I be doing? Who's thoughts might I be in and not know it?
Will I have written about some of the things I have stored away in mind? I'd like to write about my Granny Jefcoat's funeral. I want to write about my Southern Country Woman Mentor Robbie Beck, who turns up in my mind more often than she would think.
Isn't it a thing for people to be so loved without them even knowing it? I have people enough in mind to write volumes.
I think this year I'll start.

Victorian Rituals: Victorian Mourning Rituals

I just found this while looking up mourning art before bed. Mmm, that's the stuff sweet dreams are made of.
http://victorianrituals.blogspot.com/2008/10/victorians-mourning-customs.html

Victorian Rituals: Victorian Mourning Rituals

This blog has absolutely gorgeous things though, I'm dead serious.
Now I'm off to dreamland, hoping to feel less sick in the morning.
I am fascinated by death photography too...

New beginings!

Ah, it's a new year. Thank goodness!
Today I took ALL my Christmas stuff down and packed it all away for next year.
I replaced Christmas things in my kitchen window with this gorgeous old meat cleaver my Dad gave me for Christmas '08. I love hanging stuff by ribbons and I think this orange and black striped one gives it an extra ominous appeal.

Unfortunately as the day wore on I get sicker and sicker:( No fair! I had strep before Christmas and got just well enough in time to get together with my family on Christmas day, thankfully. I often get sick a few times in a row, what a gyp. So now I am up with my head burning & snotty writing in my blog at 4 A.M.
While packing up my Christmas things I remembered going through that ritual after Christmas of '04 and writing myself a note tucked away so that I would find it the next year, a little time capsule.
I planned on attending The American College of the Building Arts in '05 and I knew the next Christmas would find me in a world I could not yet imagine. I tried to picture myself living in Charleston S.C. as an architectural restoration student; new town, new job, new friends, new life. How exciting!
Here is a picture I took last May when the inaugural class graduated. This is a student's example of ornamental plaster restoration which was my major.

And this is the Charleston City Jail which the school has been working on restoring for years and houses their main offices. It is absolutely gorgeous and crammed with history. Yankee prisoners were held inside during the Civil War and you can read their graffiti scratched into the walls inside.
Long story short; it wasn't meant to be after all. I moved there August 2005, started school on the 18th, and developed a debilitating illness on September 15th, my Mom's birthday.


After months of driving between there and back to my Dr. in Charlotte and missing school it was decided that I would withdraw that semester with the option to start over in '06.....

For a time, Charleston was the city that broke my heart, with it's achingly beautiful live oaks and haunting old graveyards; it will always remain my one true love.

......but that was not my path after all and after much heartache I am here, now, much wiser and much more certain of what I am doing.....
That's the short version. These past 5 years have felt more like 10 and I am astounded at the ways my life has changed. Those first few years I was completely broken hearted, broken down...broken. But like a phoenix I have risen out of the ashes to be born anew. I put myself back together. I am always looking with an open heart and an open mind for the path before me.

This is how I see my life; every moment of every day I make choices, like a map with many different paths. Maybe it's true that for every choice you can make a new universe opens up with that version of you going down that path, infinite versions of yourself are being created at every moment...but I can only be one Dusti at a time (I'm not completely crazy)!
This Dusti is always looking for the best fork in the road. I have to believe that there is one true life that is the best one, one path on the map that will lead me to my greatest self.
Life is like a many forked roller coaster ride swish-swooshing by very fast, you have to decide "right, left or straight"! Like those Chose Your Own Adventure books when I was a kid; surely there is an optimum outcome, right?
This year I will hang on tight and enjoy the ride, and trust that a combination of good sense, strong intuition and bravery will serve me well on this journey.