Well it was my son;s birthday today. We went out to dinner and ate like hungry animals.
We had pasta, we had foie gras, we had fish, we had lamb, fried cauliflower, spinach potatoes, octopus, lots of wine too. Of course we had birthday cake. His burps were plentiful and smelliful. Tons of burps.
They lit the candle and we sang "Happy Burpday To you ...."
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Thursday, January 5, 2012
in the basement
After East New York, my family moved to Staten Island. A private house, wow, it did seem like a big deal at the time. I planted all sorts of shrubs and trees. It looked really nice. My father, not knowing anything about such ornamental flora or horticulture, decided he would help these plants by spraying them with some type of weed killing energizer. Well after years of these plants doing so well, I came home to see bald plants. An azalea with no leaves, an andromeda with no leaves, the man did not have a green thumb. A few years later, my father passed away, and my mom would keep herself occupied by cooking for my sister and brother. She kept mostly to the kitchen and living room before retiring to bed. The basement was a thing of the past for her. My sister would do the laundry for her down there. All those steps were impossible for her.
Well there was alot of action down there , unbeknownst to my mom. My nephew constantly would go down there and bring various strangers there. This went on for awhile, until the police showed up, and it turns out my nephew, who would come in from East New York to Staten Island on the weekends would steal bikes parked outside in the neighborhood. He had a thriving stolen bike business. Here, my mom was so proud of her grandson, always busy in the basement, with so many "friends". Basically she was harboring a criminal.
So the bike theft stopped, and my mom would be cooking her lima bean , barley , soup with black mushrooms and a hunk of meat on the bone with marrow coming out of it, and with a cigarette stuck to her lip with a long ash on it, then it would fall in the soup. that was her secret ingredient. But the soup smelled great and tasted great. She would cook lots of really good dishes, mostly Russian in origin, Stuffed cabbage with raisins and rice in the meat was one of her specialties, another was ground liver kreplach (dumplings) were delicious. She was oblivious to the goings on in the house. My sister would grab a plate of food and go eat it in the basement. She would come up and get seconds and then go back down there. This went on for many months, until one day my mother got so scared, she ventured into the basement and there was this guy Louie living down there for the past 8 months. He never came up except in the middle of the nite to use the bathroom. He went unnoticed for that long.
When my brother and I found out about this guy , we threw him out. But it was amazing and amusing, not to mention frightening that this could happen in my mom's house. The house was sold so now we can just remember things. Over 2,000,0000 cigarettes were smoked in that house. So much tar and gook in the air the doorbell stuck. The white paint and blue carpet had discolored, but we never knew that until we moved the furniture. You get used to the color and don't realize what the smoke does. Well, it was a good way when the house was sold.
Well there was alot of action down there , unbeknownst to my mom. My nephew constantly would go down there and bring various strangers there. This went on for awhile, until the police showed up, and it turns out my nephew, who would come in from East New York to Staten Island on the weekends would steal bikes parked outside in the neighborhood. He had a thriving stolen bike business. Here, my mom was so proud of her grandson, always busy in the basement, with so many "friends". Basically she was harboring a criminal.
So the bike theft stopped, and my mom would be cooking her lima bean , barley , soup with black mushrooms and a hunk of meat on the bone with marrow coming out of it, and with a cigarette stuck to her lip with a long ash on it, then it would fall in the soup. that was her secret ingredient. But the soup smelled great and tasted great. She would cook lots of really good dishes, mostly Russian in origin, Stuffed cabbage with raisins and rice in the meat was one of her specialties, another was ground liver kreplach (dumplings) were delicious. She was oblivious to the goings on in the house. My sister would grab a plate of food and go eat it in the basement. She would come up and get seconds and then go back down there. This went on for many months, until one day my mother got so scared, she ventured into the basement and there was this guy Louie living down there for the past 8 months. He never came up except in the middle of the nite to use the bathroom. He went unnoticed for that long.
When my brother and I found out about this guy , we threw him out. But it was amazing and amusing, not to mention frightening that this could happen in my mom's house. The house was sold so now we can just remember things. Over 2,000,0000 cigarettes were smoked in that house. So much tar and gook in the air the doorbell stuck. The white paint and blue carpet had discolored, but we never knew that until we moved the furniture. You get used to the color and don't realize what the smoke does. Well, it was a good way when the house was sold.
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