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Am's Weblog with an alien twist and a slightly more technical spin by Am Ouil, my alter ego.
A Live Journal I use to discuss Linux and my writing and to explain the unexplainable.
My Tripod Words Weblog, where I discuss words and language.
Am0 Home Page, with links to my other sites and Weblogs, beginning to bloom. |
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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| New BrowserFlockFlock is
described as a social browser. I'm not sure how applicable that
description is because access to social communication sites is only
part of what Flock does.
In just a few minutes after starting
the program, I was able to link it to some of my Weblog sites:
LiveJournal (Am0), Blogger (Am's rAmbles), and Xanga (WordJames and
Am0) but not Tripod (WordJames) or WordPress (I'm not quite sure what
it's called). Plus I was able to access some RSS feeds. Now I'm editing
this entry on Flock, even though I prefer w.blogger for making
LiveJournal entries because of its superior HTML capabilities.
Until
discovering Flock, I was using a variety of browsers and other tools to
access or maintain my Weblogs: Firefox, Opera, w.blogger, Am0.us,
WordJames.name, Xanga and Tripod. I would like to be able to access all
of them with a single interface. I've fallen short of that goal with
Flock, but it is a step in the right direction.
Flock is based
on the Mozilla Gecko machine, just like Firefox, SeaMonkey and Mozilla.
When I signed on to Flock for the first time, it asked me if I wanted
it for my default browser. I declined. Now I'm more tempted to make it
the default. I'm certainly going to give it a workout over the next few
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| Current ConditionRecovery
It has been months since I last posted here. My last entry concerned my accident that damaged my left knee.
Following the accident, my knee became very swollen. The pressure building up from the swelling caused blisters to form on my leg, the blisters popped and became infected, and I wound up in the hospital for three nights / four days with bottles of antibiotic pouring directly into my veins. After I got out, I got therapy for the swelling and went to a high-compression thigh-high support stocking -- which is difficult and painful to put on or remove. As the swelling diminished, I switched to regular support hose supplemented by an elastic knee support. I mostly don't use the knee band any more as the swelling continues to go down. The knee continues to be numb and sometime tingles like small creatures were walking on it.
I continue reducing the amount of insulin I require -- my daily dose of Lantus, the slow insulin, is down to 48 units from a high of 110 units -- although I've been suffering an increasing number of low blood sugar episodes, about once a week now. The low blood sugar episodes seem to follow days in which I've had particularly bad diarrhea, and I just started taking a new medicine that may help correct the digestion problems.
I have jumped through almost all of the hoops required for getting an insulin pump and should receive mine soon. The new pumps come with continuous blood sugar monitoring, which should help me head off any future episodes of low blood sugar. It should also help me control the highs, too. Originally expected to be released at the beginning of the year, the new pumps didn't get federal approval until late July or some time in August.
My spine has gotten worse. The arthritis was originally only diagnosed as severe in the upper spine, with the lower spine rated as moderate; now it's all severe and they're calling it "degenerative disk disease" instead of arthritis. The arthritis in my right hip and right knee are at least as bad as ever and I now have problems in my right wrist, having to wear a wrist support most of the time to reduce the pain.
Annoyingly, I have a new problem: if I try to get up early in the morning, I get severe headaches. I like to get up at 7:00, sometimes earlier, but I've been unable to move before 10:00 frequently of late. If I try to get up despite the headache it just gets worse and worse until I can't do anything.
Football season has started. I didn't watch many games in the pre-season and I'll probably continue to pass on watching all but the most interesting. Even by recording the games and fast-forwarding through the commercials, the games last too long for me to sit through them comfortably. I flinch every time the announcers mention that somebody has had hamstring problems ... my left leg hurts in sympathy. Delia has promised to buy me a lift recliner (the chair stands up and pushes me out instead of my having to struggle to my feet to get out), to make television viewing more comfortable and to get me to elevate my legs the way the doctors have ordered me to do. I've picked out the model I want, one of the larger La-Z-Boy models. We were at the store twice this week and I spoke with the store manager this morning on the telephone. It's just a matter of finalizing the deal.
Delia and Cathy have been after me increasingly lately to agree to move my computers upstairs. Delia doesn't want me having to walk half-way around the house to do downstairs or to come back upstairs while Cathy simply wants the increased space and privacy she'd get. I'd lose some privacy and I'd have to clean my stuff up and get rid of a large portion of it. They'll probably win, likely next year, so I'd better start throwing stuff out now.
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| Thirty-Fourth AnniversaryApril 15, 2006
We didn't exactly choose our wedding date. We fell into it. We originally planned to be married in January of 1972, but Delia came down with pneumonia and spent the scheduled date in the hospital instead. When she got out, we had only two options: the middle of April or late August. Everything else was booked up.
At least we got a date that is easy to remember, the day taxes are usually due. They were due 4/17 this year but I submitted them 4/13 instead, knowing I was going to be busy with party preparations.
Not an anniversary party on Saturday. We were having guests over to celebrate Easter on Sunday.
Cathy was going to cook a lamb leg. She did a bunch of other stuff too, but the main course was to be lamb, cooked in Cathy's new roaster oven. You've probably seen similar machines the last two months of each year, as they are popular for roasting turkeys in.
Since the machine was new, it needed to cure. That is, we had to turn it on at maximum power for at least an hour to burn off the oils left by the manufacturing process. That was to be my job. To make sure I remembered to take it downstairs, Cathy placed it under a chair near the front door.
Delia had to work on Saturday. She was going to decorate her display in the store with flowers and picked up an extra bunch of roses to decorate the house for the party. She passed by the house with them on her way to work, and I went out to get them.
On my way in, carrying the flowers, I tripped over the roaster oven. I managed to protect the flowers from damage but came down hard on my left knee.
I couldn't move at first. After about ten minutes, I managed to scuttle, crab-wise, over to a chair and hoist myself up into it. The knee immediately began to swell. Cathy wanted to call an ambulance but I refused to cooperate. I also refused to let her take me to the emergency room, insisting I would survive. She brought me a moist bath towel and an ice pack.
I spent most of that day in that same chair, moving only when nature forced me to. I consumed a Tylenol-3 and, later, a couple of my Tylenol arthritis formula.
Sunday I calmed the pain with a constant stream of a more natural remedy, wine. I would rather use a natural remedy instead of some kind of chemical. For several days since then I used neither Tylenol nor wine.
I was unable to see a doctor on Monday, but I did visit a bone doctor on Tuesday morning. Xrays showed that no bones were broken. The pattern of bruises developing on my leg were typical of a hamstring tear, so the doctor did an ultrasound. He had Delia watch the screen during the procedure. They both giggled when I coughed and the fluid in my knee sloshed back and forth. He said that the stuff that looked like seaweed in the surf was probably streaks of blood in the liquid.
My knee is still swollen. It is full of fluid, some of which is blood. It was twice as big as normal, but the swelling has gone down a bit. The rug burn, where the skin was scraped off, is red. The doctor warned me to call my primary physician if it seemed to become infected. Otherwise, I'm to walk as much as I can manage and I should rest the leg frequently. I am to return in three weeks, just before I'm due for jury duty.
Oh, and the party was great despite my injury. I didn't dance, which isn't unusual. In fact, our guests hardly noticed that I just sat there, most of the time, without moving.
That's normal for me.
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| Christmas Dinner
We 'flew' up to Huntington Beach for a dinner party. I say 'flew' because Cathy was driving us in her new truck and Delia always says something about the velocity at which we travel. Cathy was doing a good job with her driving and not travelling at an excessive rate, in my opinion, but she did give some signs that she was less than pleased with the way others were driving.
We were told to be there at 14:00. We were among the first to arrive when we got there at about 18:00. We brought a substantial portion of the vegetables (string beans, potatoes, sweet potatoes) for the meal, returning home with a good amount of meat in its place. Others brought their specialties and there was enough in both quantity and variety to satisfy everybody, so I don't need to list what was on the table.
The usual collection of people attended, for the most part.
At the dinner table, the woman sitting next to Delia was pontificating on the subject of cancers, particularly lymphoma, when Delia started to cry. I had to explain that Delia has lymphoma, which brought a momentary silence to the table. Delia stepped in to fill the silence with her explanation of what had happened to her. Having Delia openly discuss the subject raised the comfort level for all present.
We exchanged presents. My hopes of being ignored were dashed when I was handed a large, heavy package. I have, over the years, established my discomfort with gift exchanges (it contributes to my annual state of depression) by a constant failure to provide gifts, but Delia more than makes up for my lack.
We left as early as we could, Delia trying to hold on to the party experience until forcibly persuaded that we must depart. Traffic was light on our return but the trip was marred by several drivers who either lacked the season's spirit ... or had consumed too much of it. We encountered annoyances, though, not any hazardous situations. arriving safely shortly before midnight.
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| Christmas Eve Dinner
When Delia and Cathy both work long hours, as for the last three weeks, it falls to me to prepare dinner. Sometimes it isn't much, but something more is expected on Christmas Eve. This year I decided to experiment with a boned lamb leg, something Cathy usually prepares. She is the expert at it.
Knowing what I was up to, Cathy dropped a pile of cookbooks on me, massive volumes individually that, together, made a heap over a foot tall. I don't follow recipes and I already had a good idea what I wanted to do but I glanced at the lamb recipes in several volumes for new ideas. I didn't get any, so I proceded on my own.
A marinade, used to break down meat fibers and tenderize the meat, typically consists of an oil and an acid, at its most basic. I chose a good extra virgin olive oil and, for the acid, both lemon juice and yogurt. I added both garam masala and freshly ground pepper to the paste. I threw in a few more herbs to round it out but those were the important ones.
The lamb leg comes in an elastic net. I carefully removed it, thinking I could replace it later instead of tying the meat up with cotton cooking twine. I cut a number of inch long slits in the meat, which I jammed full of sliced garlic, then I spread the marinade on the inside of the leg. I then attempted to replace the netting I had so carefully preserved.
Disaster! The yogurt mix leaking from inside the leg made it too slippery to replace the netting. I made several attempts, the result of which was to spray or smear marinade all over my shirt, my face and the table. I broke out the twine and tied the leg up with it.
I smeared the fragrant white paste over the bottom of the roast, flipped it onto my roasting rack, then smeared the remaining goop over the top. I popped it into a 400° oven with the timer set for one hour.
The second part of the meal was to be a barlotto, the barley equivalent of a risoto, a labor-intensive way to fix a barley-rice mixture. I had a mix of brown and wild rices in the cupboard that I had been saving for this attempt. I fried the dry rices with a slightly greater quantity of pearl barley (in extra virgin olive oil, of course). When the barley turned opaque, I added just enough chicken broth to cover the grains. I piled in a handful of dried shiitake mushrooms just before adding the second helping of broth. The secret of a barlotto, according to a Molto Mario program I had watched over a month previously, was to top up the level of liquid every ten minutes, just barely covering the grain each time, adding only small amounts to keep from cooling the mix. After each addition, I would stir the mix to evenly distribute the heat. When the meat had about ten minutes to go, I would add a finely chopped medium onion.
That was the plan, anyway. I actually decided to go when the timer showed eleven minutes to completion. Unfortunately, there was a segment missing on the timer. I realized this when the time 'dropped' from eleven minutes to sixteen minutes. The top of the seven had been missing. I compensated by turning the heat off five minutes early, putting a lid on it when I powered down.
Cathy still wasn't home when everything was done, so I left the meat in the oven until she was there. I had wanted it rare but Delia liked it well done, so it didn't matter that much. Or it wouldn't have if the meat had actually cooked enough. As it was, the meat was uncooked in its heart. I snipped the strings, to allow the leg to relax and flatten out, then put it back for an additional twenty minutes. When I pulled it out, some was well done and some still had traces of pinkness.
The proof, of course, comes when you eat. Both Delia and Cathy repeated on both the meat and the barlotto. I thought the meat was as flavorful as any lamb I have ever eaten, the combination of yogurt and garam masala adding highlights to the flavor. There was meat left over ... but no barlotto.
For dessert we had pumpkin pie and gingerbread men.
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Lifetime