Anniversary Roses
Today is the Broadcasting Legend™’s and my anniversary. At our wedding ceremony I carried a glorious bouquet of Peace roses from the bush in our own back yard, and so of course every spring the new blooms seem to be saying, “Hello again! Happy anniversary!”
We described our wedding day as “Babies, Beagles and Roses.” Well, the babies have grown up and sadly one of the beagles, my dearest Raffles, is gone—but the roses continue to bloom. May that particular Peace bush thrive for many more years!
Book Shopping, Day Seventeen
Hello, the Broadcasting Legend™ here, weighing in on book gift ideas for guys.
I like thrillers and I’ve enjoyed Clive Cussler since I read Raise the Titanic back in whenever. This guy can tell a story and that’s what I like—I read on airplanes and a book like this sure helps me forget the hassles and indignities of air travel today. Anyway.
In Arctic Drift, Cussler and his son (I can’t believe he actually named him “Dirk,” but that’s another story) collaborate on a yarn set in the near future, with the U.S. and Canada all set to go to war over global warming and the price of gas. Well, sometimes I feel like I’m ready to go to war over global warming and the price of gas, but still, Canada? It does sound weird but Cussler père et fils make it work. Suspension of disbelief, people. Add in an artificial photosynthesis process that could eliminate the threat of global warming (and hopefully bring down the price of gas), a couple of spooky Victorian ships (appropriately named the Erebus and the Terror) wrecked during an expedition in search of the Northwest Passage and frozen into Arctic ice [Note from Elizabeth: a nifty touch for history-lovers], a rare element called ruthenium (which I thought was made up because it sounds like it’s named after somebody’s maiden aunt, but which turns out to be real) and something called the Devil’s Breath, which supposedly according to Haisla of British Columbia is “a cold white breath of death that [kills a man] and everything around him.” I researched this a little and although the Haisla are real, I think the Cusslers made up the Devil’s Breath. More power to them—it’s still pretty cool. No pun intended.
I liked this book. I think other guys would like this book. And with that, I’ll turn the blog back over to Elizabeth to add the cover image and the links.
Arctic Drift by Clive Cussler and Dirk Cussler is available from Barnes & Noble, Amazon, Books-a-Million, and of course your favorite independent bookstore. For these last few days before Christmas, shop in a brick-and-mortar bookstore to save expedited shipping charges!
By Request: Lumbago
Had a good chuckle at Lisa Brackmann’s comment about why plumbago is called plumbago—“I would have gone with ‘it’s plum-colored and can be used to treat lumbago.’ For that matter, what IS lumbago?”
Ask and you shall receive. The word “lumbago” dates to early in the seventeenth century and comes from the late Latin lumbago, “weakness of loins and lower back,” which itself is from the Latin lumbus, “loin.” Here’s a fellow from an early 17th-century book of “anatomies” [Cousin, Jehan. Livre de pourtraiture. Paris: Jean Leclerc, 1608] who has obligingly taken off his skin to show us his musculature; his loins are indicated by the number 3. For more fascinating historical books of anatomy, see the Research section of the Wonders and Marvels website. I particularly like the ones in which the subject is rather coyly peeling back his or her own skin and muscles in order to display the organs beneath. What were the artists thinking?
“Lumbago” has rather fallen out of use these days, in favor of “Owie! I just threw out my back!” Perhaps we should bring it back. Or perhaps this evening I’ll tell the Broadcasting Legend™ I’m going to cook him a nice lumbus of pork with potatoes, apples and sauerkraut. Mmmm!
There is News
And the best kind of news. My book The Second Duchess has been sold to Ellen Edwards at Penguin/NAL, with the publication date to be determined.
If you could see me now (and thank goodness you can’t) you’d see me running up and down the hall laughing and crying and jumping up and down. The dogs, needless to say, are amazed, and hopeful of getting lots of treats. The Broadcasting Legend™ is working, of course, but I’m sure he’ll be amazed and thrilled in his turn.
I’m so grateful to so many people. My nonpareil agent Diana Fox, who has kept me sane and even reasonably productive through the whole process. My many writer friends, and particularly my wonderful and irreplaceable critique group the Lurkers. (Don’t ask me why we’re called that. Because come to think of it, I actually don’t know.) The people all over the world who’ve responded so kindly (and in three languages) to my many research questions. And of course the Broadcasting Legend™ himself, who has encouraged and supported me through many highs and lows.
Now. Virtual champagne for everyone! Or come to think of it, perhaps virtual Roditis. And saganaki. Opa!
Leporid Adventures
This morning the Broadcasting Legend™ happened to look out our front window, and this is what he saw among the plantings:
He called the doggies. (Who could resist?) Chaos ensued. It turned out there were actually two bunnies under the bushes. They calmly went on eating our tender new calla lily leaves as the dogs howled their heads off inside and I tried to fight my way to the window to take pictures. We have three or four generations a year of rabbits in our neighborhood, and by now I suspect the “Pay no attention to the man beagle behind the curtain window” gene is bred into them.
A fine start to a gray, stormy Sunday.
Tzatziki Time is on the Horizon
I think the frost is over, and I’m about to sow my cucumber seeds. Mmm, fresh cucumbers straight from the vine! That means TZATZIKI!
Tzatziki is a Greek sauce for souvlaki and gyros, although we gobble it up as a dip with pita triangles (or, to be frank, with just about any sort of chip we can lay our hands on). If you can find thick Greek yogurt, use that—it’s turning up in grocery stores more and more. If you can’t find Greek yogurt, use regular full-fat yogurt, well drained.
There are as many recipes for tzatziki as there are Greek cooks. Here’s the Broadcasting Legend™’s version:
1 quart plain full-fat yogurt
1 cucumber
1 clove of garlic
The zest of one lemon
Kosher salt to taste—start with half a teaspoon
2 teaspoons of dried dill
Fresh dill for garnish
The night before (don’t you hate it when recipes start with “The night before…”?), strain the yogurt. It’s easy—line a large strainer with cheesecloth (a couple of dampened paper towels will do in a pinch), put it over a glass bowl, and scoop in the yogurt. Cover the whole shebang lightly with more cheesecloth or paper towels and leave it in the fridge overnight.
In the morning, discard the liquid in the bowl. In the strainer you will have delicious thick yogurt. Put this yogurt into the rinsed and dried bowl. Rinse the strainer because you’re going to need it again.
Peel, seed, and rough-chop the cucumber. Put it in a food processor (yes, we take the easy way) with the garlic clove, the lemon zest, the salt and the dried dill. Process until combined. Leave it slightly chunky so your tzatziki has some texture. Drain this mixture in your strainer. Press down hard. The idea is to remove as much liquid as possible so your tzatziki is delectably thick.
Add the cucumber mixture to the yogurt and fold them together well. Taste and add salt if necessary. Divide into serving bowls and garnish with sprigs of fresh dill.
The Second Duchess
Read the First Chapter
The Second Duchess is available on iBookstore!
