Embracing My Addictions

Nobody's perfect. Since I know this to be true, I have reached a crossroads in my dotage at which the flaws that make me happy have become gifts.

I don't cheat on Ahmed. I don't get drunk. I don't take illegal drugs. I don't smoke cigarettes. I don't steal. I don't attend cock fights. I don't even eat donuts very often anymore.

My point? The few vices I do have are reasonably innocuous and I've grown to cherish them. They are:

Books: There is a great deal of talk that book prices are going up, though I have yet to see it. When it happens I will be mildly annoyed but the pace at which I purchase books (2 to 4 paperbacks a week on average) will not be daunted. The term "voracious reader" is a wuss-out to somebody like me. I take my books SERIOUSLY.

Coffee/Espresso: I have a refillable Starbucks card. It was purchased for me at Christmastime and had $50.00 on it. I have refilled it four times, at $20 a pop. I'll keep refilling it. You're not taking my lattes. Try it. You'll get my lattes when you pry the cup out of my cold, dead hand and my ghost will laugh at you when the residual caffeine sends an electrical shock through your nasty, latte-hating body. Then I'll meet you at the gates of hell, holding a latte. And it won't be decaf, Sparky. I play with live ammo.

Max: I spoil my dog. I spoil Ahmed's dog, as well, but I really, really spoil Max. He loves me more than anyone else alive and once tried to attack a mugger for me, although he ended up with a bruised heart and lungs because he's brave, but he's just a little guy. I buy him ridiculously expensive dog treats, pay huge amounts of money to have him groomed with the "good" shampoo, and let him sleep with me, even when it pisses Daddy off. Tough. *Glancing over at Maxwell* WhosAPuggyBoyDen??? Whois? YOUIS WhoLuvsHisMummy?

That's it. Seriously. Three vices... three flaws. I like them. They're like the bumpy, stretched out bits on my favorite sneakers. They may not be nice to look at but they feel great. And they are staying. I feel as though a hard life has earned me these bumps.

Max's New Project

While I was busy feeding people corned beef (actually, watching the door and running the raffle, but whatever) my dog broke into the computer and created a blog! Max got bored and decided to speak out.

Check out his new blog:

maxwellthepug.blogspot.com

A
newly crimsoned Cardinal-- O'Malley-- is creating controversy for the Catholics again, but this time he's actually following the teachings of his faith. Go figure. Like that funny dude with the beard who welcomed all sinners in that melting pot of Israel, O'Malley put forth the bizarre idea that a Christian church should consider itself separate from state and ignore immigration laws that might-- say, for instance-- be directly contrary to Christ's teaching.

But wait a second, this isn't about church and state, it's about the WAR ON TERROR.

I do think it fascinating that so many privateers in the mighty battle against illegal immigration of terrorists are pointing their cannons at Mexico. My memory of 9/11 is pretty crisp. The terrorists who were not here by legal means left by way of Logan Airport, 36 miles to my north. They came by way of Canada. Yet nobody is patrolling Maine, Vermont, and New Hampshire's deadly terror-zone with guns. Shawn Hannity isn't galloping across the terrain on horseback like a fair and balanced apocalyptic badass.

Why? If we're really worried about terrorism, why?

We aren't worried about terrorism crossing our borders any more than we are worried about "them coming over here to take our jobs." Illegal Mexicans aren't taking jobs any of us want. The same idiots who spew this were whining on the floors of the senate and house last week about "inaccurate economic growth markers." The jobs with which everyone says we were rewarded during the boom aren't good jobs and most poor people have to work three of them to get by. The jobs so crappy Mexican illegals take them-- like working strawberry farms in California-- are quite open and available to any American who wants to work 15 hour days without bathrooms, benefits, or back pain medicines. We could, of course, stop the migrant work camps by refusing to buy produce from those who employ these hiring practices. Check the label on your strawberries lately? I thought not.

No, what we are REALLY worried about hasn't changed in a post- 9/11 world. We don't want more brown people speaking their funny language and eating their funny food and marrying our foolish daughters. You get babies that are disturbingly beige when that happens, and that's Un-American.

Thank goodness my own ancestors-- all of one generation ago-- were honest enough to do things right. MY Nana wasn't sneaking across borders in the dead of night to work a cleaning job somebody else might have wanted. No, my Nana walked right onto the subway in Southie and hoped the bag between her shoes didn't slosh too much... you never knew who the revenuers were. My grandparents got in the old fashioned way-- they bought fake documents from dirty politicians in exchange for votes. They came here for the RIGHT reasons. Not because they wanted a better life for their starving children (they were actually quite wealthy). No, my grandparents came because they'd have been dragged off to prison for involvement in the IRA if they didn't. They came to vote illegally in order to advance the Irish cause. They came to speak their funny language, eat their funny food, and...

OOOPS.

Romance News is Up

T
he March issue of Romance News is available right now and worth a look. Mysti Cassidy delivered a wonderful comparison of E-Book Readers and, as always, the latest reviews are available for your perusal.

I have begun to enjoy editing and webmastering Romance News almost as much as I dread it. Never one to dodge a deadline myself, I hate being the person who must crack the whip at friends who may be running late. Still, the wonderful work they deliver is always worth the wait.

We recently moved the site to a more reliable and larger host, so stay tuned for new and exciting changes as we grow. Staff members will be happy to see a new email login form right on the page.

Thanks to all our readers for their continued support!

When Your Heart Isn't In It

M
aybe it's PF or a recent transfusion... maybe it's 12 years of hard work that keeps getting harder... maybe it's the fact that people I love won't make it this year and people I hate have decided to take over. But my heart isn't in it.

For 12 years my mother and I have worked together with an amazing group of people in our community to hold a fund raiser and Irish dinner/festival on Saint Patrick's Day. Most years it ends up being a great deal of fun, even if it's a huge pain in the rump prior to the actual dinner.

This year my favorite cousin isn't coming. Two of my favorite helpers can't pitch in. Though their help will be sorely missed, their stories and jokes will be missed far more. And my least favorite family member will be present... so I will be working my fingers to the bone only to leave early and miss the festivities to avoid a family conflict.

Most years that wouldn't bother me much. I have left early in the past and still took great satisfaction from knowing we did a lot of good for our community. This year I am struggling with feeling guilty that I don't care as much and a bit put out that I cared for 12 years and now I'm tired.

It probably IS the recent transfusion and maybe the residue of a very long year. But I guess I may have needed to put it to page in order to see that.

rant over :)

Blog Facelift

T
here is nothing on earth worse than trying too hard and missing the mark. I guess that has been my problem with the template for this blog.

Not to worry. A friend dropped me an email and said "I love your home page and everything else you have done EXCEPT for that blog! It's ugly, and it doesn't look like 'you' at all."

Gee, Ellie... tell me how you really feel, girl!

But she was right, and I have been struggling to create a template that feels more like who I am. I hope she, and you, like this one, because it won't be changing. This is me, where I work, and how I am. I am a camera-shy, beach-bum writer.

Thanks Ellie. As busy as I am this month I think you were correct-- it wasn't me. Now it is!

'Tis A Ceiledhe We're Havin'!

T
hat time of year is upon us... Saint Patrick's Day is approaching fast. As those who are close to me know, this is a hectic and harried time of year for myself and my mum. Each March we both do our best to commit suicide-by-boiled-dinner as we feed corned beef & cabbage, Irish soda bread, and dessert to a crowd of 200-250 hungry folks. We organize a raffle, have Irish karaoke, Irish step-dancing, and a great time. Put a few drinks back, sing a few songs, eat til your pants hurt... you get the idea.

It's all for charity, but it's also a tremendous amount of fun.

Til that time I shall be scarce, since the planning and errand running is ridiculous. The March issue of Romance News will be out tomorrow. Everything else is back-burner til I've recovered from my favorite annual pain in the butt. )

Requests for My Irish Soda Bread Recipe

This time every year my inbox and voicemail are flooded with requests for my grandmother's Irish Soda Bread recipe. It actually came from the kitchen of my great grandmother, Ma Hurney. While caraway seeds are popular in the US and some parts of Ireland, my own Irish family (and most of the inns there) prefer a more sconey-type of bread.

This version is lightly sweet and a bit more cakey than bready. It's a bit like a fluffy, big scone and is very rich. Perfect with marmalade, ice cold butter, or honey. It will store reasonably well for a few days in a tight container but is best warm. We try not to let it last. :)

Ma Hurney's Irish Soda Bread

2 1/2 cups all purpose flour
1/3 cup sugar
2 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 cold stick of butter
1 egg
1 cup sour cream
1/2 cup buttermilk or sour milk
1 cup floured raisins or currents (dried cranberries and blueberries work, as well, but are less traditional)

Set your oven to 350º. Grease a pan; a standard pie plate is fine, or a loaf pan. Loaf pans will yield a browner, crustier bread.

In a large bowl, combine all dry ingredients and mix well. Make a well in the center of the dry mix. Add your egg, swirling in with a fork until you have a gooey patch in the middle. Break the cold butter up into small pieces and finger or fork it into the bowl, bringing dry ingredients together with egg and butter til the whole is mixed loosely. (A few lumps are desirable at this stage.) Mix in sour cream and milk. The result should be halfway between a dough and a batter. DO NOT KNEAD! Add raisins or other dried fruit last.

Pile into your pan. If using a pie plate or round cake pan you should simply heap it highest in the center and allow it to be slightly lumpy in appearance.

Bake fpr 55 minutes or until the entire surface is a gorgeous golden brown.

Serve to good friends with tea, cold butter, honey, and marmalade as quickly as possible. Gossip, laugh, eat, be happy.