My Tangent – Hey My Brain Is Getting Old…?

03 January 2010

Morning,

Yup, it’s on the tip on my tongue. I just can’t remember it at this moment. My brain traffic is only genealogy and ancestors. Oh well, probably wasn’t that important. My brain just can’t take any more learning. Hell, did I leave the iron on? And he said it’s the fifties’ fog… Check out the article “How to Train the Aging Brain” by Barbara Strauch published 29 December in The New York Times. “The trick is finding ways to keep brain connections in good condition and to grow more of them.”

(Thanks to the Medical City Dallas Neuro Connection for the insert.)

Last night I began making a Jamaican pumpkin soup for supper. Not the puréed pumpkin that you get from a can but the hard type from a calabasa pumpkin that you sometimes have to go at with a meat cleaver, or at least some big-mother of a knife. Well after I got the pumpkin all chopped up and into a cauldron boiling up with some chicken broth, I started checking what I had in the refrigerator that I could pitch into the brew.

And there were leftover vegetables from a couple of nights ago, and in they went. Then I chopped up some potatoes and carrots; took out the celery and a Scotch bonnet, and was about to go into the garden and get some fresh thyme and chives, when I thought to myself, “What about the leftover crab/tomato pasta sauce that I had made?” In it went. Supper last night crab, pumpkin, Minestrone. Not bad for a pot of enhanced leftovers…

We made our first trip to IKEA. Had to get some new cushions for the sofa and chairs in the living room; old ones had become ratty looking. My reactions to a crowded IKEA: “When did the lines of Disney merge with the lines from Sam’s Club this close to my house?” “Everyone’s got a paper IKEA-PS in their hands!” (That’s an IKEA Positioning System map brochure.)

We found our cushions. Comfortable duck-feathers with slip-covers, all from Sweden...I think not. Just think the next time you have a good Peking duck for supper, and remember that its feathers are somewhere on someone’s couch… somewhere in the world.

And the old cushions are on the floor, for right now, and check out who made a nest.


Enjoy,

Jim

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