Dear Folks, Speaking of sandwiches, it reminds me of a special sandwich that I just loved in the San Francisco/Sacramento area of California in the 1960s. It was called a French Dip Sandwich. It was another simple sandwich that consisted of freshly roasted beef on the rare side, sliced very thin and heaped up on a Kaiser roll. On the side was a small cup of au jous (the beef juice). The restaurant that I always went to in downtown Sacramento for lunch was a bit up-scale but their prices didn't reflect that. Although it seemed to cater to business men and women in downtown, there was still the blue-collared crowd. The tables they had were small high ones with stools at them. Frankly I can't recall if I ordered my French Dip sandwich from a waitress or from a cafeteria line. I do remember that when I sat down at a table I was ready to dive in. On each table was the mandatory container of fresh horseradish and the routine went like this. Spread horseradish thinly over the beef, cut the sandwich in half and go to town. First you would dip a corner of the sandwich in the small cup of au jous, take a bite out of it and then take a nibble of the dill pickle on your plate. Oh, that was heavenly. As I recall, the majority of the customers were businessmen and who knows but a CEO was sitting across from me. But do you know what? I'm certain that neither of us cared a bit about each other from a status point of view. He was diving into his sandwich with as much enthusiasm as I was. vee

Joan added a hint of her own about peeling eggs: > I now roll them, like always, and then if they don't want to cooperate, I > then slip the end of a small spoon under the shell and proceed to peel > them > without any problem. Dear Joan, Hmmmm, now that sounds a bit intriguing and it sounds like it would really work. I'll try to remember that tip also. vee

Janey said, > I'm still loving all your stories. Can't wait to get your book! Dear Janey, thanks for the continuing encouragement. I really need it. > By the way, my first cousin from Niagara Falls gave birth to a healthy > baby boy today. Her name is Laurie Shenk Halgash. Her husband, Brad is a > teacher at Youngstown (I think that's the town)or maybe it's Gasport. Give my congratulations to Laurie and Brad. If Brad teaches in Youngstown it would be in the Lewiston-Porter school district. Gasport is a number of miles from Youngstown. Gasport is in the Town of Royalton on the eastern edge of Niagara County. vee

Leslie said first, > I love your posts! Dear Leslie, thanks for letting me know. As you know I'm stilll a bit timid putting a lot of my stories into a book. Then she said > After you boil the eggs, pour off as much of the hot water as > is feasible. Then, put the pot in the sink and add lots of ice on > top of the eggs. Sometimes, as the ice is melting, I add some > cold water too. But, the best part is that you then take an egg > & crack the shell by tapping it on the side of the sink. Then, just > roll the egg between your hands and the shell will come loose > from the egg itself. Leslie, thanks for the hint. I'll remember that the next time. vee

I always seem to have trouble peeling those "store-fresh" eggs. They always want to tear. I found out, by accident, how to have them peel nicely. I now roll them, like always, and then if they don't want to cooperate, I then slip the end of a small spoon under the shell and proceed to peel them without any problem. Joan

Vee, I've learned (guess it's the southern way..ha) that when you put your eggs in to boil, sprinkle salt on each egg. This makes the shells peel right off. I'm still loving all your stories. Can't wait to get your book! By the way, my first cousin from Niagara Falls gave birth to a healthy baby boy today. Her name is Laurie Shenk Halgash. Her husband, Brad is a teacher at Youngstown (I think that's the town)or maybe it's Gasport. Janey

Dear Folks, Although my interests nowadays are to continue to edit the stories I hope to put together in a book, I haven't neglected reading my murder mystery books. But what amazes me is that I've been reading Sue Grafton's book "I is for Innocent." I know full well that I had read that book several years ago and that I remembered that I was pleased with coming to the conclusion that that the guy wasn't guilty of murder after all. He was innocent! But it was only a few pages later when the scene changed and Kinsey, the private investigator, came face to face with him knowing full well that he was going to kill her because of what she had uncovered. But here's the thing of it, I've been reading the book again during the past few days and even though bits and pieces of the story sound vaguely familiar to me, I still don't have a clue what triggered the end. And I'm still avidly reading the book to find out how it ended and why. Our Youngstown library is small but nonetheless it's loaded with books, especially murder mysteries. I know that I've only touched the tip of the iceberg but even if there were only books on the shelves that I've read before, I can picture myself reading them all over again and still wouldn't have a clue as to who done it! Isn't that wonderful? vee

Dear Folks, At lunch today I knew full well that I was eating the last bowl of delicious soup I'd made over a week ago and that I needed to cook up another pot of soup for my lunches. But I couldn't decide on what sort of soup I could cook with the ingredients I have on hand. I figured that if I could stall that decision for a few days, I'd come up with the perfect soup for lunch. As an alternative, I decided that I'd like some egg salad sandwiches over the next few days. I knew that I had an excess of eggs and I'd enjoy them fixed that way. I knew that I'd find them delicious but there was one hitch. I've never prepared egg salad before in my life. I checked through my recipe books and the Internet and took many mental notes about the different variations of egg salad. Finally I came up with a recipe of my own that combined the ingredients that suited me the best. This evening I got to work and put a pot of water on to boil. I gently lowered each of the six eggs into the boiling pot and set my timer for 10 minutes according to my cook book. When the 10 minutes were up, I drained the eggs of the boiling water and cooled them off under running cold water. Later I tackled the peeling of the eggs, not always an easy job. When the eggs got peeled I got out my aluminum egg slicer (vintage 1950), sliced them, put them into a container and eventually just mashed them with a fork, not even concerned that they were a bit lumpy. Then there was the moment of truth. I had to add the other ingredients. First was the mayonnaise. As far as the quantity of mayonnaise, it was guess-and-by-golly. When I finally was satisfied with the amount, I added unmeasured sweet pickle relish, dry mustard, salt, and a couple of shakes of onion powder. When I mashed it all up together I could only hope that it tasted the way I wanted it to taste. To taste test it I spread some on a saltine cracker. I took one bite out of the cracker and I just KNEW that I had invented the best egg salad recipe in the world! Of course I hadn't written down the precise recipe but if I prepare it again, I guess I'll measure the ingredients out, write the recipe down so that at least I will know how to prepare egg salad to my liking. Oh my, how I look forward to an egg salad sandwith for lunch tomorrow! vee

Hello Vee, I love your posts! Here is the easiest way to peel the eggs. I learned this from my wonderful mother-in-law, who (sadly) has been deceased since 1970. After you boil the eggs, pour off as much of the hot water as is feasible. Then, put the pot in the sink and add lots of ice on top of the eggs. Sometimes, as the ice is melting, I add some cold water too. But, the best part is that you then take an egg & crack the shell by tapping it on the side of the sink. Then, just roll the egg between your hands and the shell will come loose from the egg itself. Note --- Be sure to let the eggs cool ONLY to where they can be easily handled, or this method will not work, and then you'll have to go back to a more difficult (and more time-consuming) method. BTW, tuna & egg salad is great for sandwiches too! Leslie ----- > Dear Folks, > > At lunch today I knew full well that I was eating the last bowl of > delicious soup I'd made over a week ago and that I needed to cook up > another pot of soup for my lunches. But I couldn't decide on what sort of > soup I could cook with the ingredients I have on hand. I figured that if > I could stall that decision for a few days, I'd come up with the perfect > soup for lunch. > > As an alternative, I decided that I'd like some egg salad sandwiches over > the next few days. I knew that I had an excess of eggs and I'd enjoy them > fixed that way. I knew that I'd find them delicious but there was one > hitch. I've never prepared egg salad before in my life. > > I checked through my recipe books and the Internet and took many mental > notes about the different variations of egg salad. Finally I came up with > a recipe of my own that combined the ingredients that suited me the best. > > This evening I got to work and put a pot of water on to boil. I gently > lowered each of the six eggs into the boiling pot and set my timer for 10 > minutes according to my cook book. When the 10 minutes were up, I drained > the eggs of the boiling water and cooled them off under running cold > water. Later I tackled the peeling of the eggs, not always an easy job. > When the eggs got peeled I got out my aluminum egg slicer (vintage 1950), > sliced them, put them into a container and eventually just mashed them > with a fork, not even concerned that they were a bit lumpy. > > Then there was the moment of truth. I had to add the other ingredients. > First was the mayonnaise. As far as the quantity of mayonnaise, it was > guess-and-by-golly. When I finally was satisfied with the amount, I added > unmeasured sweet pickle relish, dry mustard, salt, and a couple of shakes > of onion powder. When I mashed it all up together I could only hope that > it tasted the way I wanted it to taste. > > To taste test it I spread some on a saltine cracker. I took one bite out > of the cracker and I just KNEW that I had invented the best egg salad > recipe in the world! Of course I hadn't written down the precise recipe > but if I prepare it again, I guess I'll measure the ingredients out, write > the recipe down so that at least I will know how to prepare egg salad to > my liking. > > Oh my, how I look forward to an egg salad sandwith for lunch tomorrow! > vee

Dear Folks, I'm surprised that it's really tough to read through some of the storries and edit them for inclusion in my book. Some of them still delight me but others seem to be a bit too personal to tell to the general public. Now that's really silly inasmuch as I've posted all of them to the list freely over the past number of years. I really don't know what's been bothering me, but I seem to be closing in on myself and wanting to only include only silly stories or stories about my life where I lived happily ever after. Granted, the silly stories are an important part of my life but I'm having a problem with the serious stories where I didn't live happily ever after. But I guess that in the long run I'll just let it all hang out as I had written it in the first place. Trust me, that's a tough decision to make and a daring decision to make. vee

I do things for others all the time, that they can't do for themselves, and think nothing of it. Some are older than I, and some are younger. Wish I lived nearer and I'd be able to help you Vee. Ruth At 12:19 AM -0500 4/2/05, Vee L. Housman wrote: >Dear Folks, > >For some time I've felt guilty about taking advantage of younger and >stronger people than I. For a number of months my neighbor Dawn and her >children have hauled my garbage and recycle bin out to the curb on >Wednesdays, my neighbor Ken has brought to my side door my daily paper and >mail and most recently the neighbor in between them plowed out the snow in >my driveway. I'm still trying to adjust to the realization of their helping >their neighbor, me. -- Ruth Barton mrgjb@sover.net Dummerston, VT

Dear Folks, I really took to heart what all of you said. And I believe I know now what my "guilt" problem is all about. It's because I can't remember my helping other people out when I was younger. I believe I can't remember because I thought nothing about it at the time. It was the thing to do and didn't take that much effort on my part. However, there is one thing I did that was a bit out of the ordinary. I bought my house in Oakland, CA, a few days before the assasination of Martin Luther King and I had blacks living on both sides of me. However, it didn't take me long to feel comfortable in the neighborhood in spite of the Black Panther activity going on in Oakland. In fact I became very good friends with my one of my next door neighbors, Bea and Johnny. One day when I was outside in my back yard I noticed smoke coming from their back window. I immediately pounded on their door to let them know that there was a fire. We called 911 and Johnny got out the garden hose and managed to douse it before the fire department got there. Before they got there Bea, Johnny and I stared down at the water that was creeping closer to their wall-to-wall carpeting and I ordered Bea to get me some towels to mop it up before the water caused any real damage. I got down on my hands and knees and kept sopping away as Bea kept handing me more towels. In fact I was still on my hands and knees when the fire department showed up. Now mind you, all of the firemen were white and so was I and I wondered at the time if they were a bit startled to see a white woman on her hands and knees mopping up the floor in a house where blacks were living. But it wasn't like that at all. Bea, Johnny and I were good friends and good neighbors. All three of us tried our best to minimize the damage. It didn't matter who put out the fire or who grabbed a bunch of towels or who mopped up the floor. We were all in it together. We were always good friends and neighbors and I guess I remember that one incident because of the excitement of it all. vee

I firmly believe in "what goes around, comes around", and have tried to teach my children and granddaughters that one reason we are on this earth is to help wherever, whenever and however we can. You, Vee, help each of us folks so much, and I think each of us help one another. We are there for one another - we're family. That's how it's suppose to be. There's a place for guilt though it shouldn't be in your situation. I know I have to ask for help more now than I ever thought I would. We love you Vee !!!! Evelyn

Vee - If people didn't want to help, they would just come up with an excuse. It takes them minutes to do something for someone else, and it most likely makes them feel needed, and feel good about themselves. Feeling needed is one of the most important things in people's lives. Without it, what's the point? Beside that, from the sound of your neighbors, they genuinely like you, so, what are friends for? Someday they may need someone, and they will be able to ask, because they will have your example to look back on. Then again, Dawn will probably never have to ask, because she has taught her children well... Kathy

Dear Folks, For some time I've felt guilty about taking advantage of younger and stronger people than I. For a number of months my neighbor Dawn and her children have hauled my garbage and recycle bin out to the curb on Wednesdays, my neighbor Ken has brought to my side door my daily paper and mail and most recently the neighbor in between them plowed out the snow in my driveway. I'm still trying to adjust to the realization of their helping their neighbor, me. But yesterday (Thursday) was a different situation. I had to take my car in for repairs and when I left the house I noticed that even though my neighbor Dawn had loaded up my recycle bin on Wednesday, she neglected to take it out to the curb. That meant that over the next week I needed to take it inside so that it wouldn't get rain soaked. Oh, well. Nonetheless, I dropped off my car for repairs and the car repair shop gave me a lift home. When we got back to my house, I timidly asked the mechanic if he would take the recycle bin back in the house. He seemed a bit surprised at the request but nonetheless he didn't seem to mind at all. And that's why I feel guilty. I feel that I'm taking advantage of the good hearts of the younger and stronger people even though I know darned well that I'm no longer capable of doing such things myself. It's tough to handle guilt of this sort even though I know darned well that if an older person would have asked me to do them such a small favor when I was younger, I would have been glad to.

Dear Folks, Earlier this evening I was going to ask all of you how long you can store a single slice of cheesecake in the refrigerator. If you recall, on Easter the parents of my neighbor Ken brought me a slice of cheesecake on a mound of strawberries along with an entire meal that will keep me in food for a long time. Just about everything was wrapped up and put in the freezer but I still stored the slice of cheesecake in my refrigerator. Granted, I've been nibbling on it over several days but this evening there still was some left. I was concerned just how much longer I could store it before it spoiled and that's what I wanted to ask you. Just how much longer could I store it. Well, don't bother to try to answer that question. This evening I couldn't resist it and I gobbled up the rest of it in utter delight. In retrospect, I don't know if any of you have had experience with storing a single slice of cheesecake in the refrigerator to the point where it spoiled. vee

Dear Folks, I don't know how to explain why I've been a bit concerned about myself lately but I'd like to give it a try. It has to do with the editing of the stories concerning my life. And I have an idea that I've been caught up in a time warp about my Navy days. As I seriously edit my Navy stories, they bring back so clearly those days, both the good and the bad. But overall, they bring me back to when I was in my mid 20s in the 1950s and living the Navy life as a WAVE totally on my own in a man's world. It was breath takingly exciting including having to fight for everything that went against me regarding equal rights for women in the service. But as I read through those stories it also tends to remind me that I'm no longer able to handle such excitement or adventures, nor do I seek them out. Although I'd love to relive those days now, I'm not the young pretty girl I once was 50 years ago nor do I have such vitality now. Nonetheless, I know that I'm doing a pretty darned job in trying to recreate those days to share with everyone, especially myself. It may be difficult for me now to have to relive those days on paper but I know that eventually I'll be able to enjoy re-reading them once they're put together in a book. However, I'm still in a time warp and it continues to haunt me. vee

Dear Folks, While continuing to edit the stories I've written, especially about my Navy days, I was reminded of another chow hall story. It was back in the mid 1950s shortly after I had gone on active duty. Prior to that I had been living on very little money which was under $75 a month. However, I still managed to pay the rent in the small furnished apartment I had in Niagara Falls and pay the utility bills. What was left over was for food. Obviously I didn't treat myself to anything but plain food. Nonetheless I got by and didn't complain. When I went on active duty, all that changed. I didn't have to pay for housing and I didn't have to pay for food. And now we come to the subject of food. I ate three meals a day in the chow hall and I was overwhelmed with the selection of food and the amount of it on my metal tray. However, after the first month or so, I began to realize that I was rapidly gaining weight and that I'd have to put myself on a diet. Trust me, it wasn't an easy thing to do in the chow hall. The mess cooks were used to filling up trays with enough food to feed the biggest appetites of the men. However, I tried my best to convince the mess cooks to give me smaller portions. I swear though, that they had never been taught the meaning of "smaller portions" and even though they tried their best, I still ended up with the same amount of food on my tray. It got to the point where I felt that I'd have to request something more descriptive. Instead of smaller portions, I asked them to serve me a teensy weensy portion and then I'd show them with my hands just how small a teensy weensy portion was. It took them awhile to figure that out but eventually they learned. It also took them awhile to getting used to my breakfast request of only one pancake instead of three. Oh that one was really tough for them to comprehend but eventually they adjusted. Eventually, I was pleased that the mess cooks recognized me when I came through the chow line (after all I was the only WAVE who ate there). They all knew that I wanted teensy weensy portions and more than that, I finally taught them what my favorite breakfast was. ONE pancake put on my tray and over that ONE fried egg sunny side up. That with a couple pats of butter and a small amount of syrup was to die for--and still is. After the training of mess cooks worked, I lost all my excess pounds and it was quite easy to keep my weight down. However, I guess I didn't know everything about calories. One day at lunch I noticed a chilled tray of slices of green things. I didn't know what they were but if they were green they couldn't possibly have many calories. I took a few bites and they were so delicious that I went back for seconds and possibly thirds. I asked the sailor next to me what they were and he told me they were avocados. Considering that Oakland, CA, wasn't all that far from the avocado capital of the country near Fresno, those avocados were ripe before they were picked and shipped. However, when I checked my calorie booklet, I realized that they were totally off limits to me. (sigh!) So that's how you go on a diet in the Navy when eating three meals a day in the chow hall. The hardest part, however, is training the mess cooks the meaning of teensy weensy. Given patience, however, they'll eventually catch on. vee

My goodness, it is nice to know that others have this problem! Mother was always a good sleeper, but Daddy was like I am. And, as someone else here mentioned, it is getting worse each year! Our 19 year-old kitty-cat "Miss Bitty" generally sleeps with us. And, although she does get up with me during the night, she generally goes back to sleep, close to me, in any room where I go. Then, when I am finally ready to try the bed again, I carry her back to bed. And, on the days when I give up and take a little nap during the day, there is Miss Bitty ready and willing to sleep with me on the sofa. (Bless her heart, at her age, no wonder she is always willing to sleep!) Leslie

> <<<Does something like that ever happen to you?>>> > > You mean there are people that don't have that problem? :-D > Kathy > > I guess there are a few folks who can fall asleep as soon as their head hits the pillow - not me, and it's getting worse the older I get :-( What has helped lately is my 13 year old cat, Precious, who has become somewhat of a nurse. When she sees I'm having trouble getting to sleep (whether from mind activity or pain) she steps in to comfort me. And now that I think of it, it's almost like I'm her kitten. She never had any. Sure helps me. Evelyn