Livingthedreamwithdiana.com

I am sorry that I have not been journaling out quarantine as I should have been. I have gotten bored, lazy, and drunk.

Today, however, I have gotten so much done, I cannot believe it myself.

Last week we bought a pork leg, about twenty kilos of meat, that I cooked in my usual fashion, in the Instant Pot, (onions and beer), but had not “put up” in the freezer, vacuum sealed.

Well, today, I put up six bags of pork, one of chicken broth, one of Mexican fried rice, two of frozen scallops, five milanesas, cooked, and three uncooked thin cut sirloins. (Needless to say, we need to start eating some of this stuff, because our freezer is full.)

Tonight, for dinner, we had steamed mixed vegetables (peas, carrots, and corn), raviolis, with cheese and spinach, plus, pan seared scallops. Mi amor said it was one of the best meals we have had in our quarantine experience! Yay!

Have I been watching Hell’s Kitchen? Hell yes!!! I am up to season twelve, episode five. I can cook better scallops than any of those contestants, and I have never cooked a scallop in my life. Are they to Chef Ramsay’s standards? I have no idea. Were they good? Heck yes, they were great. (I have more in the freezer, and Costco has more in their freezers).

We got some disturbing news yesterday: my sister in law, Mayra, my favorite, has contracted CoVid19. She tells me she has only fever, and teeth crunching chills. She has not seen her children, or grandchildren is several weeks, but, at this post, does not need a ventilator, or any other means of breathing apperatice. She has been such a help to us, down here, that we hope you will all say a prayer for her, and her family.

If any of you have someone that is CoVid19 positive, and want a prayer for them, please let me know, will you? As there are a few people that read this post, we will, indeed, pray for those who need it.

I would ask that you, also, keep my brother, Eric, in your prayers, as he is traveling to Abu Dhabi, with other Mayo Clinic professionals, to assist in the CoVid19 virus there. He will be there for six months, returning to his home in Arizona for one week, every three weeks. Gracias, mi hermano!

Now, back to Chef Ramsay, and those dumb season twelve contestants!!!

Is it just me or has every day become Saturday? No where to go, nothing to do. We cannot even go to Costco anymore without a mask, and only one family member at a time. So, we bought masks from the guy on the street, and went in separately. Clever, I know.

Most days, anymore, I do not even care if I get out of bed. Some days I do not get out of bed.

Does not help my sourdough starter, however. It relies on me to feed it, so, no wonder it is failing. But most days, I feel like I am failing as well.

Getting very tired of confinement. Hope this ends soon.

My first sourdough started did not continue to bubble after I fed it a third time with water that I had boiled. The first two feedings, (see prior post photo), was fed with the water that had been boiled, but left in the electric kettle for the three plus weeks were gone. It must have been full of the natural yeast in the air, which I must have killed by re-boiling the water after we got home.

Needless to say, I have started two more small batches, plus the kombucha is set, all covered up to stay warm.

Nothing much else to tell you. We are tired of not being able to do the things we normally do, as you are too, I would think.

We try to do a few things around the house here but are pretty dispirited at the moment.

The sun is shining, it is almost ninety degrees, and we do not have to go to work. It is an ok day.

Wow, really. Two days ago I started a sourdough starter from AP flour, and filtered water. Here is what it looked like after just twenty four hours.

I started with three tablespoons of King Arthur AP flour, and two and a half tablespoons filtered, (boiled) water, mixed until combined and put a lid on it. This photo was taken around eleven thirty last night, (as we are still unable to sleep a full night). When I removed the lid, it actually sputtered, as if to release the pressure inside. This has been made with just the yeast occurring in the air around us. Plus, it is so f@#$ing hot, just took off.

This morning, however, I was in bed until the afternoon with a migraine, and got up about three in the afternoon to this. Poor thing.

It is still alive, and I have fed it again, and will photo it in the morning to see if I killed it somehow. It was easy enough to start, but fragile. Kind of like me, right?

Here is my other project. Those of you that know me know that Ivan and I have drank kombucha now for three or four years, made completely at home. Flavored in the second fermentation with various combinations of fruits.

I was unable to bring my SCOBY hotel with us so I have had to purchase one online from Amazon.com.mx. It arrived today, complete with my new two gallon dispenser, and I have made the first batch, to ferment over the next two weeks. Hopefully, by then, my flip top bottles will be here, and we can begin our probiotic regimen, as we have done for so long. If you do not know kombucha, and want to try it, get yourself to a natural food store and look for the brand that is unfiltered, unpasteurized, and try a bottle. For those of you in the Quad Cities, go to Fresh Thyme, as they have all kinds of natural foods. Enjoy.

Well, we made it. We are home again, just this afternoon. We have been unable to sleep at the other house, for a variety of reasons.

The other night, I got up at four thirty, to get some Ibuprofen for my very painful back, and noticed there was light coming in under the door. When I opened it, there was my father in law, sitting on the side of his bed, going through the bedside table- obviously looking for something.

I woke Ivan, and had him go put his dad back to bed, but then neither of us could go back to sleep. That, and the mattress, which is not our twelve inch multilayered foam mattress, that we have only slept on for a few weeks, (seems like only twice). So, to be out of our element, so to speak, and now, to return to our element, is nothing short of a miracle.

PLUS- my favorite sister in law has accepted doing us a favor, and is going to Walmart this weekend to buy all of the supplies we need to make our laundry soap. I cannot wait!! I use the Duggar’s liquid soap recipe, and have for years. I absolutely love it. Anyway, Mayra, my sweet, you are the best of the best. I publicly thank you from the bottom of my heart. So will our new washing machine.

I have something to confess- I find that TV series that are about ten years old are amazing. I have recently gotten hooked on “House”, which started in 2004, I believe. I tried watching it several times in the past, but House’s demeanor put me off. Now that I have gotten the “Good Doctor” bug, watching House is a piece of cake.

I enjoy watching the thought process, especially when it comes to medicine. In season one, episode four titles “Maternity”, in the House series, it shows an epidemic taking place in that hospitals maternity ward, with six newborns becoming infected, all experiencing the same symptoms. House and his “crew” of interns spend countless hours trying to figure out the cause.

The hospital administrator comes along to help out with the swabbing of all of the different delivery rooms, the sinks, respirators, everything. One baby dies, they finally decide on the correct antibiotic treatment, the others live, but they do not find the “cause”. Not until the last two and a half minutes.

House is sitting in the lobby of the hospital, watching everyone walking around and through it. He hears someone with a hacking cough, and spots an elderly woman, a volunteer from the Gift Shop, wiping her nose, then touching the small stuffed teddy bears that will be given to the birthing mothers as a gift. It shows in animation, the bacteria that she wipes from her runny nose, how it is transferred to the teddy bears, and from the teddy bear, to the newborn. Amazing.

Last time for today- wash your hands. Wash the handle on the toilets, the door knobs, etc., that people touch, but frequently forget to clean.

Stay happy, and healthy.

Wow! We have had quite a time with my father in law for the past three days! He “misplaced”, (read hid), his wallet, again, and none of us could find it.

Mind you, when he is with just Ivan and me, we have much more control over where he puts things, because we help him. I put notes on his dresser, to place his glasses and his wallet here before going to bed, notes in the bathroom, to leave his razor, and toothbrush on the counter. I put notes all over, so he does not have to try to remember where that something is, or where it should go.

We put notes up in the kitchen, so, if by some chance, he is up before me, he can find the Splenda, the coffee mugs, and, the milk for his coffee. All of them are in Spanish, so he can read them more easily.

Yes, he is losing his short term memory, but that was to be expected. In two months, he will be ninety two years old, and still is up and running, so to speak. Well, that is not true. This coronavirus has really thrown all of our “schedules” into the dirt. We will have to all start over again. Oh well. New beginnings. He is still a fairly vibrant man. We enjoy having him with us.

I read a headline recently, that stated, because of the coronavirus, handshaking may become a thing of the past. Not such a bad idea, from a health care professionals point of view.

When one stops to think, before shaking someone’s hand, where that hand has been, and what it has touched, and when, if at all, was the last time it was washed, it can make one phobic.

In an earlier post, I wrote about a saying I used to repeat, ad nauseum, I am sure, that “if you are not sure if you touched something, wash your hands. If you think you touched something, wash your hands. If you know you touched something, wash your hands”. In my former profession, as a surgical nurse, it was imperative that we washed our hands frequently. It is part of, what we call, having a “surgical conscious”. If you do not develop a surgical conscious, you will not be a very good patient care advocate. In fact, it puts your patient, at a time of the physical stress of having surgery, at a huge risk for post operative infection. Who needs that while trying to re cooperante? No one.

We used to see photos, from our nurse educator, showing how a handprint was left on a patients abdomen, by a health care professional that had just examined another patient. which had a different viral infection than the CoVid 19 virus that we are currently experiencing. That health care “professional” did not wash their hands before examining the second patient. The “handprint” was the actual infection manifested on the second patients skin.

If you do not understand how viruses, and bacteria, spread, as this coronavirus is doing, if you cannot get your brain to understand it, get on YouTube, or wherever venue you watch movies, and watch the 2011 HBO movie called “Contagion”, starring Matt Damon, and Kate Winslett. It will show you just how easily all of this happened.

Recently, I have had to produce my Iowa drivers license, several times actually, at Costco, and Sam’s, in particular. Let me explain.

When I was in the third grade, many, many, many years ago, the teachers started to teach us cursive writing. The goal being, that as we got older, our handwriting would improve, and we would be able to have a beautiful signature. I was not very good at it, but, who, at the age of seven, can write their names in cursive?

Each year, we were given a special pen, supposedly it would help us hold our pens correctly, and our penmanship was bound to improve, over time. And, it did. Each year I was able to write more legibly, and each year I was able to sign my name more clearly. How proud my parents must have been! They were finally able to read what I was writing.

Fast forward to the early part of this century, when credit card theft was starting to become a serious crime. I had been advised, by several different sources, some from our Credit Union, some fellow church members, and, some from different TV programs- all suggesting that, instead of signing the back of your credit card, it would be safer if you write “SEE ID”. That way, when you show some business your card, they have to match the signature you signed to some other piece of identification, such as your drivers license. If your card was stolen, when they had to show ID, the photo on the license would not be the same.

I thought that was a fantastic idea, and, that is what I have done, for twenty years.

Let me just say that, here, signatures are almost unrecognizable as a persons name. They are taught, at a young age, to make their signatures “unique”, something that only you would be able to duplicate. And, it is an art, let me tell you. Some are so fancy as to be almost seventeenth century, and some are just amazing.

I can see why the shop keepers do not understand why I have written SEE ID on the back of my cards. A ten year old could copy my signature. But, when Ivan explains to them the purpose of the message, and they see my signature, they smile, because they understand the problem. Anyone could copy my signature. So, to protect me, you need to check my signature with my drivers license. Period.

Some day we will have only to scan our retinas, or an ear, actually, to be identified. Those are two of the most unusual places on our bodies that are unique to us, as individuals. I read somewhere, recently, that Great Britain has, actually, started using the ear to identify people, more often than a fingerprint. Almost like it was science fiction.

We stopped by La Salón Berlín, (several weeks ago, by the time you read this), for the first time in about six weeks. Throughout the evening all of the “wait help” stopped by our table to say “hi”- even the chef, and sous chef, and both sets of musicians came over. They missed us. We have missed them, as well.

I love that place. I believe I can hear the “Cheers” opening song, playing in the background, as we walk through the door. And, that is just the way we feel. It is a bright, open, fun place to sit, relax, tell stories, or, just catch up on each other’s lives.

When we were younger, we used to go to Governors, in Moline, IL., about every other Friday nite, and got to know quite a few of the staff there, as well. But, it was too expensive, and once we moved to Bettendorf, IA., it was too far, not to mention that we had the grandkids every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday- for twelve years.

Now, here, the alcohol is much less expensive, we are retired, and do not have to get up until we want. We still only go to Berlín about every four to six weeks, and not at all since the coronavirus came to town, but we sure have fun when we do go.