Papikosh Virginia Spot (or how I made Leiostomus xanthurus tasty)

I did not bring my camera with me today so I do not have a picture of a Virginia Spot while at Wholey's. I did travel around the web in search of one (finding a fantastic blog called Toast in the process.) The picture above is some generic thing I pulled off of the 'net.

Virginia Spot (Leiostomus xanthurus) is a smallish fish with a sweet flavor. I am providing a basic recipe below. Consequentially, it is also my Papikash Catfish recipe. Hmm. Papikash Spot? That has an interesting sound to it.

Fillet your fish if your monger has not already done so for you. Pat dry.

Sprinkle each side of the fillet with kosher salt, white ground pepper, onion powder and Hungarian paprika.

Pan fry on medium-high heat, in extra virgin olive oil for a total of five minutes. I keep the pan covered.

Fish will flake when ready.

You can pair this with a nice green salad and white wine.

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Must Do lists and other musings

Fall is out there. I saw it, albeit briefly. My “window tree” treats me to brilliant red foliage on the outermost branches. The air is cooler and much crisper. Dead leaves frolic along the ground, whispering, “ware, pay heed, winter approaches.”

I have a large autumn “MUST DO” list. I must get the downstairs cleaned for the holidays. I must get the upstairs cleaned for my own sanity. I must get the new plastic shower curtain put up. I must have Better Half drag my box of fall décor up from the basement. I certainly must take fall photographs, strip my garden of summer plants, take in the outside fountain near Toad Hall, sweep the porch, brush and wash the dogs, organize my cupboards and get a haircut.

I got a haircut. That is an accomplishment. Insanity is staved off for the moment.

Autrice made the mistake of wanting long, pretty hair that framed her face and hid the excess water retention. Autrice is Not Patient, however. Better Half and I were in Robinson Township last night and I raced to the nearest salon. It isn’t that I don’t appreciate our local cosmetology talent. I do. I simply do not enjoy looking frumpy. The long hair was frumpy. My local talent enjoys the bouffant style, whereupon one sprays and teases hair into place. The Robinson talent, close enough to Pittsburgh to be metro without the metro price tag, does a splendid job. I am now the proud owner of a kicky razor cut. It’s boyish yet playful. I adore it.

We like to play in Robinson (Town Centre.) There are plenty of popular restaurant chains nestled next to metropolitan places such as (scream of joy) Ikea, Barnes & Noble, Borders, Eddie Bauer, Macy’s, Marshalls, and JC Penney and did I mention (scream of joy) Ikea?

There is (o glory of glories) a Saks Fifth Avenue in Pittsburgh proper. It happens to be downtown in my favorite district - the Too Expensive For Most People District, which is nestled in the Fine Arts You Can’t Afford To See District and rather close to The Penn Avenue Market District With Foods That Wal-Mart Shoppers Will Not Be Able To Identify.

Back East living is very different from West Coast living. There is a refinement to it. Hollywood is plastic, be it clothing or breasts or faces. Back East is polished. You can drive down Penn Avenue in the fall and winter and see a tide of black flowing along the sidewalks and licking at the building facades. Dark trench coats shield business professionals and their expensive suits from the elements. Now and then a bright pop of red springs forth from the black sea, the blazingly outspoken emblem of an elderly socialite on her way to purchase tickets for the ballet or pick up her dry cleaning. People have manicures and those manicures are not there in order to impress others. Rather they are there because keeping one’s fingernails looking trim is expected.

Life is very different in Steubenville. It is very laid back. Women scrapbook. Men slap on ball caps and go out the door. Vehicles have Steelers emblems on them. You might see license plates from West Virginia (Weirton is just across the Ohio River.) People are kinder here.

Better Half has accidentally left his wallet in a shopping cart twice. He raced back to the market both times to discover that some good citizen has not only turned his wallet in but also left the cash tucked inside. People open doors for you and will hold that door open no matter how long it takes you to amble through. People say, “thank you” and are met with, “you are welcome.”

There are some unsavory elements that have slithered in. Most of downtown is a dead zone riddled by crime and populated by human beings who really don’t give a flaming fuck about maintaining their property, their lives or their environment.

I have just realized that my office calendar is still showing August. We can’t have that. Didn’t I mention something about a “MUST DO” list? Surely, I shall not accomplish anything on that list if I am sitting here being amused by the sounds the keys make as I type.

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Partial Birth Abortion

The interview that left O'Reilly speechless:


CNN story:


It's Faux News but it does echo CNN's report:


Finally, a rather shoddy video but it does contain the bills in question and any and all "changes" to them:

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Under Construction

Please do not worry that I have forgotten you, dearest Readers that normally have a link on my page. I'm trying Blogger's new template generator on for size and I have not yet had the time to work on the links portion.

Please feel free to hum your favorite song while I work.

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Walking for a Cure for ALS

Email from AnnieElf:

I am sending this to you all as a special request to help me as I help my friend Tammy Brierly, a 17 year survivor of Lou Gehrig's disease – also known as ALS. The normal lifespan from diagnosis to death is ten years. The remarkable and miraculous Tammy has survived 17 years and still maintains a high quality of life.

On October 25th, I and my family will be Walking for a Cure for ALS, in Sacramento. I am hoping that many of you will be able to contribute a donation to support this cause. Even a dollar or two would help.

To learn more about Tammy, please click http://mylifeasawarrior.blogspot.com/. This will lead you to her blog.

Tammy Brierly's team page at the ALS Walk for the Cure is below. If you click on my name, it will lead you to my donation page http://web.alsa.org/site/TR?team_id=98020&fr_id=5160&pg=team&JServSessionIdr001=ormgchrwy2.app26b

OR – you can click here to go directly to my page. http://web.alsa.org/site/TR/Walks/SacramentoWalk?px=2003247&pg=personal&fr_id=5160

Thank you for taking the time to read this. And thank you for any support you can give to this cause.

And, PLEASE, feel free to share this with anyone you like on your own email lists.

Best wishes,
Annie

-- http://www.inmidreamz.blogspot.com

Without trust, society cannot survive. Benedict XVI

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Summer 2008

Fall is officially here (I needn’t state the obvious.) This is the time of year where I get ready for the holidays. Better Half and I are cleaning our downstairs carpets, washing down the woodwork and wiping down walls. The décor becomes more simplified in order to make room for the knickknacks that will mutate from fall into winter, encompassing Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. We are behind schedule.

It seems that we had a very mellow summer. We did not achieve some of our goals, such as stripping and painting the back deck. There is much to do in the back yard; the gardens need to be bedded down for winter, odd bits of trash require policing and the summer fixtures will be placed in their protective boxes.

I will be sorry to see my beautiful summer flowers disappear. I will have to mulch my beds out front, being careful to avoid any toad holes that I stumble across. The fountain will be brought to the garage and I shall tuck my hanging lantern into a corner for yet another year. Cushions must be washed, the porch swept and clematis clipped back. We will have leaves to rake, fall and Christmas decorations to place, and another few months were the car remains unwashed.

I leave you with memories of Summer 2008.

Goodbye Maddy. Not a single day has gone by that I have not thought of you and mourned your passing.

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Failure Joke (from email)

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"Stomach flu" and Toad

I’m back from the dead, “almost literally”, having survived a personal situation and a bad bout of the “stomach flu”. The personal situation would make for poor blogging fodder as it has little bearing on any except those directly involved.

There is no such beast as a stomach flu, by the way. The symptoms usually indicate a bacterial or viral contagion of some sort; it is not a true flu.

My infection was a lighter shade of pure evil, replete with feverish delirium. The hallucinations, however, were entertaining. We thought it would be prudent to visit the ER yesterday when my fever spiked at 103 – toxicity from one of my medications was a primary concern. The doctor ran a full panel, including potassium and the medication level check. All was fair. He pronounced it as the gastric bug that seems to be making its rounds in the Ohio Valley.

Home again with grocery sacks filled with unsalted crackers, Powerade and Tylenol (regular OTC medication in this house? How bizarre.) The doctor included a prescription to help with the rapid southerly movement of my digestive track but I have yet to take one of those pills. I am old-fashioned; if your body is purging itself of something, allow it to do its job rather than taking medications that prevent your body from working. I will take a pill if things become too extreme.

“And here we are,” as one of my friends would type midpoint in an email or six. Indeed, here I am, nibbling my cracker and sipping my Mountain Blast (that's marketingspeak for Frightening Shade of Blue) sports drink. I would presume that my caloric intake yesterday hovered right around 250. I am currently at 250 and increasing.

We had a visitor last night: our elusive Mr. Toad. She is inappropriately named; her white throat tells us that she is certainly female. I think that she is an American toad (Bufo americanus) but I could be mistaken.

She’s a lumpy beast that lives in the front garden and apparently she harbors suicidal tendencies. I’ve had to salvage her from the lawn prior to Better Half mowing (thank God my amphibian-catching skills are still viable.) She managed to hop into the dog run (back drive) last night, spooking the hell out of the Italian Greyhound. Better Half rescued her and returned her to the front, but not before we snapped a few photographs.

American Toads are poisonous. The series of warts along their backs contain a milky substance that can be harmful to pets should it be ingested or get in the eyes. Better to dwell near the fountain and heavy cover of dusty miller than the belly of a dog. I hope that her journey into the back yard is not indicative permanent relocation. It has been a pleasure having her as a tenant.

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