The General and I are just back from Old Orchard Beach in Maine which is the sleepy, predictable kind of holiday that I often really enjoy. The lush, yet austere landscape of Maine and the cottage itself are hugely significant to The General since he has enjoyed many golden-hued summers there as a child and because it’s still a property that is “family owned” you can sense the tradition and memory as the key turns in the lock.
The very first time I was here and the door creaked opened to the warm – but not unpleasant – smell of humidity and age, I was nearly overcome with a sense of Those-Who-have-Gone-Before-Us.
It was just like being invited to a crazy, crowded party where everyone has convened in the kitchen, chatting loudly and you have to enter sideways with your bottle of wine, introducing yourself.
Except that the kitchen was empty.
I am often very sensitive to this type of thing so I wasn’t unduly freaked out and besides, the vibe was friendly enough but it did serve to re-ignite a really unsettling feeling that I often experience now which is being super conscious that I am still, and possibly always will be, The New Girl.
And what can I do? There’s simply not enough time for me to be fully accepted and it makes me acutely aware that I no longer have the extended family that I was comfortable with when I myself was married. Strangely, for example, I knew my ex-husbands’ parents more than twice as long as my own.
I am not a fan of this feeling but don’t know what to do about it.
I often feel as though as I am driving a motor boat and pulling behind me three decades of memories that just won’t drop the line.
I have a long and complicated history with ribs.
As a child, and then growing up, I wouldn’t even taste them having been deeply traumatized by the sight of slavering people in restaurants (albeit not fine restaurants) sucking and chawing away at bones with red sauce running down their chins and a shiny, 1980s lip gloss look about their entire personage afterwards.
Plus, these were actually ribs and guess what they looked like? Yes! Ribs! Gack!
As someone who often likens their own eating habits to that of the Gentle Brontosaurus (“Only tender young shoots and veggies for me please”) I actually do eat meat but I am very particular about it, which is an important precursor to this recipe.
Because these are, the ribs that even I will eat and enjoy – if somewhat guiltily.
Men, generally, seem to love these by the way and make no bones about it, if you’ll pardon the pun.
Not unlike this entire blog, I find that my reading interests are all over the place. I say this not to impress but rather, to explain that I have always been curious about many things at the same time. I often meet people in my line of work who will only read one author obsessively till they have exhausted the supply and then start reading their entire body of work all over again because there is “nothing else.”
I don’t understand this on so many different levels.
Right now, I have in an unstable tower beside my bed, a rotating pile of library books ranging from a biography of bad boy D.H.Lawrence to The Sweet Potato Lover’s Cookbook to Julian Barne’s Keeping an Eye Open: Essays on Art.
I also have a thing about books that offer tips to make life more organized or beautiful, preferably both, and to that end, I highly recommend the Pogue’s Basics: Life Essential Tips and Shortcuts (That no one bothers to tell you).
Mr.Pogue, who is an entertaining New York Times bestselling author and TED talk veteran with over a million Twitter followers, covers everything from removing water rings on wood instantly with mayonnaise (actually works SO well!) to choosing the day your credit card bill will be due, to using a single stick of spaghetti to light multiple candles or as a taper.
And TONS more in-between.
(Tip: There’s another Pogue book devoted entirely to technology – equally good!)
I find it fascinating that people often have all the same stuff to get rid of.
Empty coffee carafes abound at garage sales, as do toaster ovens, ugly and now obsolete “stereo units” that used to house square monolithic televisions, hairless, dismembered Barbies (‘Amputee Barbie’ never caught on, did it?) strings of Christmas lights we all kept re-buying, board games no one played, exercise bikes that people vowed to use as they watched TV (and obviously didn’t), boxed sets of dvds that were purchased so we could enjoy ‘Friends’ over and over and every Disney digitally remastered versions we were obliged to buy (first on VHS and then again on dvd).