Yes, yes, I’m still in New Orleans with the Friends of La Leche League on their bonding trip. Today was the day of less history and more typical tourist stuff. However, I managed to have fun.
Me having fun and trying to not get sunburned. Failed.
In the morning, people mingled and bonded until time to walk (if you were fit) to the Steamboat Natchez, which is the only steam-powered paddle-wheeler in use in New Orleans.
There, we were treated/blasted to an actual steam calliope concert. It was fun to watch the steam coming out for each note.
Calliope at work.
On the boat, we had a brunch, which was adequate, and good jazz music (though one DOES weary of “When the Saints Go Marching In” around here). Since you couldn’t see a dang thing during the meal, I got out of the dining room as fast as I could to see the river.
When I was a teenager in a tourist destination (Ft. Lauderdale, Florida area), I sure didn’t like tourists. They showed up and drove strangely, got horrible sunburns, and asked ignorant questions. Grr. They filled “our” restaurants.
Get off our stairs! Tourists (our group) milling around).
I currently spent half my time in another tourist destination, where natives carefully avoid downtown or our beautiful parks during certain times of the year, since so many people show up to party and have fun at festivals. We grumble, but know the economy needs it.
Right now I’m the tourist in New Orleans. I have done tourist activities like bus tours that crowd the streets, and walking tours that crowd the sidewalks. I sure wouldn’t want to live where my house is photographed by people like Suna all day long. Certainly living in the French Quarter would require a special patience.
With all this good food, the economy can’t help but do well.
I see tourists wandering around getting blitzed and screeching about things, and they are contributing to the economy, I guess.
Then I see our group asking question after question to learn more about the area. I see us making connections in local shops (I bought yarn!). This is good tourism, as far as I’m concerned.
Not much soul searching to report today, though I think some of my colleagues tried to get me to do so. That’s even AFTER I said I am really doing well and coping with whatever challenges may come up. Oh well. What did I do today?
Look. Architecture.
Mostly I looked at a lot of buildings and some darned impressive old oak trees. Our trip planners did us all a favor by setting up a bus tour of Greater New Orleans this morning, which makes it a lot easier to figure out what we’ll want to do in our free time tomorrow.
A spotted mule. Dream come true.
Our tour bus driver is usually a swamp tour driver, so I enjoyed listening to him try to remember all his NOLA facts and figure out how traffic has changed.
I was so busy focusing on the prospect of getting all peopled out, that I didn’t think about where I was going! I think that is for the best, because I got to enjoy pleasant surprises on my whole trip.
I just got all tingly at how beautiful the earth is.
The minute I got to the New Orleans airport I remembered it just opened yesterday! It had that sorta plasticky “new airport” smell, and it was all shiny. There were zillions of windows everywhere (including the women’s room, which needed more stalls).
So much light making the shiny floors sparkle.
And of all things, the baggage claim was pleasant as heck! I loved the mosaics on the walls and the lovely planters with benches all around them.
Look at all those plants, and lights, and brightness. Not the usual dingy baggage claim.
I waited an hour for a colleague to arrive, and it was really fun. Sadly, the taxi/Uber situation is not so good, and as the day wore on it got harder and harder for people to get transportation out. Luckily, we only had to wait ten or fifteen minutes.
I’m sitting in the Austin airport again. This time I’m also going somewhere fun, but not for relaxation. I’m traveling to New Orleans to participate in semi-annual Friends of La Leche League trip. Since I’m on the Board, my role will be to help make the trip fun for the participants.
It’s an airport!
I have to go back to my Super Introvert mode that I used to get in at the large conferences, where I had to be on and available 24/7. Usually I handle conferences by getting a room to myself. But, this is a nonprofit, so we share!
It’s fun sharing rooms with old friends. You catch up, tell funny stories, etc. I just hope note that we are all older, we will sleep some.
This is a group of wonderful people, and I am hoping everyone’s issues and infirmities don’t prevent everyone from having fun. And I hope I don’t collapse from being my busy LLL persona for 5 days. I’m not the same person I used to be.
Luckily I’m in a great mood and looking forward to some fun and good. Yes, I will eat a beignet! Moderation in everything.
A friend asked me if I had found an oyster dressing recipe when I was in South Carolina last week. No, but I make it every year at Thanksgiving! So, here, in my general and not-for-real-cookbook fashion, is how I make the dressing every year. Back to introspection soon.
At right are two large pans of dressing. One omits oysters, for the squeamish. ZZZZZ.
This is actually my mother’s recipe with a few little tweaks
by me.
Ingredients
1 stick of butter, or more
1 large onion, diced or cut into small pieces
1 cup or more of sliced celery
1 9-inch cornbread, made however you like, though best to omit sugar
2 cups bread stuffing; I use the seasoned kind
Additional herbs that you like: rosemary, sage, tarragon, poultry seasoning, etc.
Options: 1 cup of nuts (I like pecans) or diced tart apple.
2 eggs, whisked
1 pint raw oysters and juice
1 box chicken broth (you may not need it all)
Yum. The 2014 dressing.
Method
Melt butter in a large pan. Add onion and celery and cook, stirring, until onion is clear. Smell it. MMM. Smells like Thanksgiving.
Meanwhile, crumble cornbread into a large bowl. Add
breadcrumbs (or just use two cornbreads). Add seasonings and other optional dry
ingredients. Mix completely.
Add onion mixture, eggs, and oysters, plus all the “oyster water” (gives flavor). Stir gently, and add chicken broth until evenly moist, but not soppy wet. Sprinkle paprika on top to make it pretty.
Spoon dressing into a large greased (PAM) baking dish, or smaller ones, whatever you have.
Bake 45 minutes to an hour at whatever temperature your oven is on for other stuff you are baking. If all alone, do 375 degrees. Dressing is done when it browns along the edges.
Here’s the dressing from 2010! Thanks, Facebook memories.
I was rather surprised at how many people looked at my post about changing my medication and food patterns yesterday. If I were out to make money, I know what kind of stuff would work and what would not work (hint: self examination wins, plant pictures and book reports lose, unless an author tweets about your post, which did happen last week). But, I’ll just forge ahead and write about what interests me, and I’ll enjoy whoever tags along. This here blog is not intended to lead to fame and fortune, like some people’s are.
What about my PRIVACY? You ask?
I am open and honest about myself here on the ole blog, or at least I try to be. I know some folks who are not comfortable doing this, and I totally respect them. Maybe they have something they need to keep from their employers or family members, and I get that. Other people fear the nefarious spies lurking all over the internet just looking for information on them so they can do…something…with it. (I know some folks who have dealt with stalkers, and I get that, but I also know people who use some totally made-up name and obscure their location.)
I can’t resist sharing when random houseplants bloom, either.
As for me, well, my boss and family know all my stuff, and there are a couple of things I don’t talk about because THEY own their stuff, not me. So, whatever’s going on in my head won’t ruin my “career” (ha ha, I believe I have a series of avocations, some of which pay money). I do not intend to run for public office, so none of the dumb stuff I did in my twenties or forties will ruin those aspirations. And I believe in learning from mistakes, which requires a lot of introspection. I “introspect” by typing. So, here’s a blog full of that.
One of our readers asked for the recipe for the one-pot whole grain dish I made last night. It’s based on a package Anita bought at Central Market in Austin.
An ancient Roman grain!
Hooray. You can get it on Amazon. Farro is a type of whole grain dried wheat. It is apparently a much healthier option than rice. It’s also really tasty.
All you need to know about this stuff.
So, I made the recipe on the package (above) but added a can of white beans with the liquid. That added a hearty flavor. I also added a cup of carrots that were in the fridge. That added more nutrition and color. I added a little freeze dried onion and fancy pepper from Penzey’s. You could use red pepper or anything a little spicy. (If I had it, I would have used diced onion.)
The bean liquid added to the water in the instructions was enough to make the liquid cook down in just a couple minutes more than in the instructions.
This is the finished dish, as I showed this morning.
It was so good, and we had leftovers. I enjoy taking interesting things Anita finds at the hipster store and making them MINE.
There. I posted a recipe. By the way, one of our new succulents bloomed.
TW: This is about medications and managing the types of food I eat.
The doctor I’d been going to since I moved to Texas retired recently (and somehow I missed being informed of that…guessing it went to some old email). She was a really nice, calm woman who never got excited about anything. She’d say we could try this, we could try that…what do you feel most comfortable with?
I’d been to other doctors in that practice, and all were fine, but since I have moved closer to another affiliated clinic, I decided to try one closer to home. Argh. Changing primary care physicians is NOT easy, since so few of them are taking new patients. I finally found a couple who didn’t have horrible reviews and chose the woman, just because, I guess.
My “Drug Habit”
I don’t like to take pills. Only if absolutely necessary. Photo credit @erimar via Twenty20
Yesterday at 7 am, minutes after I woke up, her office called to brightly ask what medications I need refilled and to inform me that “the doctor doesn’t do refills of alprazolam, just so you’ll know.” Well, huh. That drug is Xanax, which I’ve had as an “emergency backup” for decades. I generally take about 6 a year, maybe fewer, especially now that my panic attack issue is much better. So, I was interested in finding out more about that, perhaps when I was more awake. At least she didn’t say they were taking away my fluoxetine (Prozac), which makes me feel like a stereotype, but also makes me able to cope with stuff like a pro.
The Hermits' Rest 