The Virtue of Salads

I don't have a thing I have to do until rehearsal tomorrow evening, though there are zillions of things I should do.

I finaly braved the 90-plus heat and went over to Texas Roadhouse for a late lunch. Now I know that some Texas Roadhouses are not excellent, but this one is. I've never had a messed up order or bad dish and the service is always excellent. My only complaint is that it's so crowded after 5 and on weekends. I love their little sirloins, ribs, mashed potatoes with brown gravy, baked beans, fresh baked rolls with honey and cinnamon butter, and salads.

Rather than my usual 6 ounce sirloin I had their veggie plate: mashed potatoes with brown gravy, apple sauce, baked beans, iced tea unsweetened, and a salad.

I love a good basic garden salad, though I don't know why. One of my grandfathers ate nothing but eggs and meat (he died of a stroke; they didn't know the connection back then). My other grandfather was almost as bad and died of heart failure. My dad rarely ate veggies and had a heart attack (he died of Alzheimer's though). My mom will eat a vegetable if I fuss at her long enough. So my love of salads is certainly not genetic.

I've had lots of bad salads and lots of superb salads -- I'm talking garden or side salads here; no Jell-o salads or weird stuff people like to bring to potlucks. The ones I like are about like the one I had today. Cold variety of dark leafy lettuces; a little iceberg is okay as long as it's not the bulk of the salad. A sliver or two of red cabbage, some shredded cheddar cheese, croutons that break easily with a fork, some hard boiled egg (both white and yolk), lots and lots of fresh cut tomatoes, maybe some shredded carrots. Mushrooms and a sprinkle of crisp crumbled bacon are welcome additions, as are thinly sliced cucumbers. No onions. My favorite dressing is lime and honey, but not many restaurants serve that. So I end up with french or sun-dried tomato or thousand island on the side. I also like O'Charley's Black and Blue salad, which comes with cooked sirloin strips and bits of blue cheese and all the other salad things I like. Ditto for the Southern Chicken salad they have: crisp tender bits of chicken breast.

On my way home from lunch there was a bad wreck; maybe three cars. The police hadn't arrived yet. One car was hit front driver's side so badly ain't nobody gonna ever drive that car again. There were maybe eight cars pulled off to the side and maybe 12 people standing around. Beside the totaled car a woman was laying on the hot asphalt, moaning, while a couple of people talked to her. I hate it when people stop and gawk at wrecks, though I myself always slow down just a little bit, even though I think it's rude. If I'm not involved and the police or some kind of help is there, it's none of my business, and the best thing I (anyone) can do is get out of the way.

I stopped at the little convenience store in my neighborhood to get my lottery tickets and one of those huge colas for 69 cents. I love Pepsi in bottles or cans, but for fountain drinks nothing beats a Coke.

I had all the birds out earlier, except Charli. She's awfully hormonal or something these past few days. I bring her out and scritch her little head, then she decides she wants to chew everything on the coffee table. I pick her up, she goes back and hangs upsidedown and climbs down to the shelf of the coffee table and proceeds to chew everything there. I pick her up and she nips me and tries to get to the coffee table again. I give her a couple of her favorite toys to chew on and she's destroyed one of my crossword puzzle books, but no -- it must be the coffee table. Sugar's cage is next to the coffee table, and Charli also likes to climb on top -- which Sugar certainly does not appreciate.

So Charli comes out separately so I can keep dragging her away from the coffee table.

And Nicholas is in full voice today. I swear he hasn't stopped calling and chirping at the top of his lungs all day. I may have to take some aspirin.

Physical Therapy and PEAC

I was planning to sleep late today, but I forgot that Nicholas doesn't approve of people sleeping once the sun comes up. I wanted to get up early so I could out and have breakfast before the crowds and then go downtown to the farmer's market for some fresh veggies -- but I also wanted to sleep late. Either way, both the restaurant and the farmer's market will be swamped at this time of day. Too many people for me. Plus it's going to be murderously hot again today.

The physical therapy session wasn't too bad yesterday. She said it's tendonitis in the shoulder and we spent an hour measuring my range of motion, working on my posture, and going over a bunch of exercises I'm to do at home. Next week we'll be doing something with a machine. My shoulder felt a lot better after the session.

The therapist is an older woman, with thin blond hair cut blunt and held back with two bobby pins. Her accent is either Irish or British, or something non-American. She talks alot, like she's got so much knowledge and enthusiasm she just can't contain herself. I liked her right off.

I got an emergency note from my friend B in California. She created PEAC (Parrot Education and Adoption Center), and funds are running dangerously low these days so she's asking members for donations. For those who don't know, PEAC is a great organization and I'd give anything to have a chapter here. They have a chapter in Alaska, Cleveland, and Pittsburgh. They foster parrots until homes can be found; staff and adoptors and foster people all have to pass classes in how to understand and deal with parrots. And yes, I made a small donation.

Well, I guess I'd better get up from the couch and go do my shoulder exercises -- that is, if Nicholas doesn't mind too much.

My Poetry Manuscript

C and I ran a small literary press back in the early 90s, and he has since gone on to run his own publishing company. So when I ran into him at the Book Fair three years ago, I said, "Well, you've published everybody else we know. When are you going to publish me?"

He told me to send him my manuscript, which I did. And never heard from him again. His company publishes a lot of literature and local interest stuff, and C's made a good name for himself and his press.

I was talking to JBH a month or so ago about sending my manuscript to a Louisville press and I mentioned C. JBH told me to keep after C, even after three years of silence. So I did.

And . . .

I just heard from C; he said he does want to publish my poetry manuscript but that it wouldn't be until late next year. The press is booked (so to speak) that far ahead. (And no, he wouldn't publish me just because we're friends or if he didn't think he could make money from it.)

Yea!!!

Of course, I was planning to send my manuscript to the Louisville press during their submission period but now I'll have to see if C accepts simultaneous submissions.

C said to go ahead and tinker with the poems since poets are always tinkering with their poems (this is true; poems are never finished, they're just abandoned).

Double yea!

My book about brown-headed parrots is still with the publisher; he wrote me a few weeks ago to send him some more pictures for the cover and back, so I asked the folks on the brown-head parrot list to contribute. And did they ever! Three people sent in almost a hundred pictures, which I forwarded on so the publisher can choose.

I wore one of my nice suits to work today, just in case I do have to give a disposition.

Sore Fingers & Dr. D's

I had Charli out for a little over an hour, scritching her little head and letting her sit on my hand and preen, dropping the occasional feather.

Then I let out the cockatiels; Sugar Franklin on my shoulder and the Bobbsey Twins on top of Sugar's cage. They like to eat her food and play with her toys -- even though it's the exact same food and toys they have in their cages.

Yesterday I got my free sample of bird pellets from Dr. D's Avian Pellets. Someone on Tiel Talk was bragging about how much their parrots loved these pellets, so I paid $8.95 shipping for a "free" five-pound sample.

Charli at a few, then ignored them. Sugar ate maybe three and ignored them. The Bobbsey Twins ignored them altogether.

Honestly, I was a bit concerned about the list of ingredients -- for example, it lists "forage product (alfafa)." Why not just say alfalfa? Ground limestone? Parrots don't need grit, so I'm a bit uncertain about limestone, though I'm sure it's a very tiny amount.

Not too bad a day at work. One of the lawyers stopped by this afternoon, and we went over some of the documents. Then, after three or four phone calls, we decided that I probably won't have to give a disposition after all. Yea!

Wandered around and found more blogs last night. Barista Brat (blogger works at StarBucks)' SoCal Cabbie; and The Blog That At Manhattan (physician and cook).

I need to stop following those enticing links!

No Rest for the Wicked

After the Evil Committee meeting I ran into the manager of the Patient Education Center in the hospital lobby.

"Everybody's looking for you," she said.

I laughed because no one ever looks for me.

"No, really. A bunch of lawyers are here and they're dying to talk to you. We've been calling everybody, trying to track you down."

Oh lord. I was already late but I allowed her to call the office where the lawyers were going over things with Risk Management. Two very handsome, well-dressed white male lawyers trotted into the Ed Ctr and we found a private office to go over things.

Turns out I have to give dispositions anyway -- and here I thought Risk Management was going to take care of it, like they always do. So now I've got about three zillion documents to read and "refresh my memory" with.

I was almost late for the women's chorus rehearsal, but I have my priorities!