Noury's Creative World…

Since I moved here, around two months and so ago, I have been dreading doing my laundry, but it is a weekly ceremony that must be done.

Today, for the first time I had to go to the second floor to use the dryer, because the one next to my apartment was perspiring tremendously.  The thing thought it was a sauna to be.  Steam coming out of it when I first opened the door.  I used the washer as usual, and decided to use the other dryer to avoid any great drama on a Sunday afternoon.

Time came to go upstairs.  Had to wait for another lady to empty the dryer, but not a big deal.  Then when I was getting ready to go to my apartment to put my timer to remember to get my dried clothes, I noticed a “Stop” label on top of the washer.  It said to only use two tablespoons of powder or liquid detergent, because it was a high-efficiency washer.

I am still pondering on that one.  Does the machine have more hands than the older ones?  Does it chew the clothes faster, will it be clean as a whistle?  I don’t know what the answers are to these questions, but one thing I know for certain.   I do not like the whole concept.  Are “they” getting ready to stick it to us one more time and give us less detergent.  Are “they” conditioning our minds to the principle that “less is always better.”  With this, I mean, they may be trying to psych all of us to accept that we don’t need much money, much food, that we can do with less sleep, less clothes, less shoes (that is a hard one for some of my readers, I know) and less handbags.  Hi Lucy!

You know how “they” have been shaving off the soap, so it was the beginning of the “less is more” concept.

What am I going to do?  I have to follow the signs, otherwise, I may be messing up my “around the corner” laundry room.  At $1.25 a wash, maybe “they” want us to feel better using less detergent.  Dingy clothes?  Who cares, we are a bunch of old ladies.  Who’s looking at us anyways?  This is getting bad.  Cannot make too much noise, trains going by at 2:35 a.m., blowing their whistle as if there were lots of bodies sleeping on the tracks,   apartment having its own conversation with noises coming from everywhere.  What gives.

So…it was today…25 September, 2011…a day of doing more with less.  Right!

Your Happy Contessa

“The latest combo, dingy clothes and wrinkles go well together.”  Happy Contessa’s new life experience.

I was reading a posting on Facebook yesterday whereby one person was making a comment about how his ideological friends that belong to the party other than his should feel bad for their ideological preference.

It made me feel very sad for this person, because I thought that to distill so much anger and sarcasm, you must be in a very sad and unhappy position.  A happy and content person would not make comments like that, because the beauty of our friends is their uniqueness, and we need people around us to think different from ourselves, otherwise there is no learning, no progress and just plain boring.  The rainbow has seven colors, that’s why it is so beautiful.

I learned to love and appreciate my friends before I knew about their ideological preferences.  I need to respect them because of who they are and where they are.  For some very special reasons, I chose them to be my friends.

Then, today while doing my chores downtown of the beautiful area where I reside, look what I found in the park.  An incredible amount of love represented by these pink flamingos.

There are more beauty and goodness in all of us than the other way around.

To all my dear friends, I love all and each one of you right as you are.  I would not want you to be like me, because then you are not being honest with me and most important, to yourself.

So…it was today…22 September, 2011…a day to celebrate the differences in each one of us.

Make it a beautiful weekend.  Until next Monday!

Your Happy Contessa

“A friend is someone who knows all about you and loves you just the same.”  Anonymous

This blog is really a conversation with all of my friends, but most important, it is a recorded diary of some sort for my daughter, so she can understand the hows and whys of who I am.

We very seldom have deep conversations with our children.  We mostly talk about problems, about issues they or we are facing,  and talk very briefly about things in general.  Very seldom do we talk about the meaning of things to us and how we see things and the whys behind our reasonings and actions.

There are so many things I am still learning from my mother.  She is 85 and the more we talk, the more I understand how I am.  Because I can understand the provenance of my behavior and customs.  Also, why I do things the way I do them and why I respond to certain things the way I do.

In a way, I want my daughter and me to know each other as individuals, besides being the mother and daughter in our petite family.  I think we do appreciate each other more and also are more inclined to respect each other’s opinions.  That does not mean it makes things perfect, for me, it makes them understandable.

It is always good to have conversations about something else, other than our problems and needs.  We are so unique and it is worth it to find the miraculous world on which our children sojourn.  Also, the other way around.

So this blog is kind of a legacy.  I hope.

It was today…21 September, 2011…a day of conversations…with my friends and my dear daughter.  Hope she reads today.

Your Happy Contessa

“The story’s about you.”  Horace, Roman lyric poet, during Augustus.  8 December, 65 BC – 27 November, 8 BC.

I was going through some of the many lists I have been making for a long while already.

To my surprise, most of the things on the list of “Things to Do” I realized I have accomplished.  This always happens.

In my “Dreams” list (remember I do not like the name of a “bucket” list), even that one, I have accomplished most of the things, but I keep on adding to that list on, let’s say, a weekly basis.  Once a dream gets accomplished, a new one needs to replace that one.  Besides, sometimes our dreams of six months ago, become obsolete, because we are changing and growing intellectually on a daily basis.

One thing leads to another.  Learning French…I am considering the possibility of going to France to stay there for maybe six months.  That’s not that far-fetched anymore, because we are becoming an international village.  A friend of mine just returned from Germany, and she told me she is going to sell her home, rent a smaller apartment and go to Germany and stay there for six months of the year.  She has relatives there, so there is a powerful reason. Maybe that will become an opportunity for me to go and visit with her and get to know another European country.  Need to travel while I can move my legs and my arms and go to the bathroom when I want, not when it happens on you.  You know what I mean.  Things happen.

Well, the power of lists is like listing your dreams and objectives and watching them happen.  But there’s a secret to that.  You must read your list on a daily basis, so your neurons remember to scan anything and everything related to your dream and make it more obvious to you.  Sometimes we miss a lot, because we are not focusing on anything in particular.  Thereby lies the power of making lists.  And of course, you need to take action!

So…it was today…20 September, 2011…a day of checking my “Dreams and To Do” lists.

Your Happy Contessa

“I’m making a list of things I must say for politeness, and goodness and kindness and gentleness, sweetness and rightness:
Hello
Pardon me
How are you?
Excuse me
Bless you
May I?
Thank you
Goodbye
If you know some that I’ve forgot,
Please stick them in your eye!”

From “Where the Sidewalk Ends, by Shel Silverstein, American writer, poet, singer, screenwriter, cartoonist and author of children’s books.  25 September, 1930 – 10 May, 1999.

Today, during the process of doing my mundane chores, I stopped at a red light.  There I pondered about the pesky little cameras waiting to suck it to a careless driver and to the ones that are careful also.

We live in a society where the state derives pleasure from setting up its citizens for failure.  It does not matter what it is.

Food, environment, taxes, even after you die, there is more manure to deal with than you will never imagine.

So while I was at the red light, one of my favorite songs came into play from my very selectively made c/d.  Right there and then, my mood changed.  I became content, singing along the words (about being in love so beautifully) and even I tried to dance a little as much as I could with my hands and arms and head.  I was in a very, very good mood.

I thought, to heck with the state, the taxes, the traffic cameras, the FDA and all of them better known as big brother, big sister and big mama too.  Suck it to them!  Am I getting too loose with my language?  If so, my apologies.  Just feels good to send the manure back to them, even if it is in my mind.

I feel better already!

So…it was today…19 September, 2011…a day of reckoning to the higher authorities, whomever they may be.

Your Happy Contessa

“And that,” put in the Director sententiously, “that is the secret of happiness and virtue-liking what you’ve got to do. All conditioning aims at that: making people like their inescapable social destiny.”
– Aldous Huxley, Brave New World, Ch. 1

Just yesterday I learned something that has left me surprised and disappointed, but really, after the initial shock, I am back to being my old self.

I have been training myself not to let anything, too good or too bad to surprise me or shock me.  After six + decades, what gives.

I learned, thanks to my ever investigator friend, that a food chain, one that is very famous for being an authority in organic food was packaging organic frozen vegetables from a country in the far East, the one that is making most of our housewares, clothes, and everything else, and making the vegetables look from the image in the plastic bag as if they were a product of the U.S.   What a let down!

I will not be caught in high suspense surprise if one day a baby will come out of the mommy’s womb with scanned numbers printed on its butt and a label that would read “Made in China.”

Going back to the supposedly “organic heaven,”  the food in the salad bar and food that you can purchase ready to eat (hot) were or are not organic.  So much for my good feeling whenever I went to eat to give myself a treat at this organic authority.

So is life, what we see is not necessarily what we get.  But using logic, isn’t that the case with everything, even human relationships.  So…in conclusion I have decided to give myself an extra half hour to READ labels and make sure (or give myself the illusion) that I am picking up the right product.  Wishful thinking!

So…it was today…18 September, 2011…a day of feeling the little wooden knife stabbed on my back once again by “them.”

Your Happy Contessa

One definition of chemicals:  “Noxious substances from which modern foods are made.”  Author unknown.

Today the element of magic has been eluding me all day.  This is the corner of my residence where my neurons meet the keyboard and the brewing of words takes place on a daily basis.

It is a very special corner.  I feel I am surrounded by the muses that maybe have been knocking on my Florida door recently.  I really do need some inspiration, because the well is running dangerously low.  As you can tell, I am writing about nothing much.  Can you tell I am just making time to see if my sleepy neurons come to my aid and help to make this a decent post for the weekend.

Trying hard as I am doing right now, nothing is happening.  Maybe the probability is that I have NOT studied my French lessons all week and now cramming time has come.  My French is getting mixed with my English, Spanish and the silent language of stress speaks.

I have questions for the teacher, but I am embarrassed to email her so late to do that.  My sister told me to tell the teacher that I didn’t have time to study and just leave at that.

Can you imagine an old woman, who voluntarily went and paid some good money to learn how to speak one of the most romantic languages in the world, would look to this young teacher.  Probably I will lose all credibility and respect.  I may have to stay late tonight and tomorrow night conversing with myself in French.  Parlez vous Francais?  The verb du jour is parler.  Je m’appelle ________.  At least I know how to say…my name is___________.  You should be so happy,  because you are learning French with me.

Blessed dear muses…welcome back, if even for just one second.

353 words…So it was today…15 September, 2011…making it by a thread.

Have a lovely weekend!  I will be back on Monday, if I make it through my French class.

Your Happy Contessa

“The crisis of yesterday is the joke of tomorrow.”  H.G. Wells, English author, better known for his works in the field of science fiction.   21 September, 1866 – 13 August, 1946.

It has happened again…the pleasure of an unexpected visitor.

What do you think it is…the water or just the alluring Florida name.  This time is my baby sister.  I am nine years older than she is and she is visiting from the Dominican Republic.  Do we have a lot to catch up.  And in Spanish!

But dinner for her was a hamburger, fries and a soda.  So unvegan…and so unDominican.  This is becoming harder by the minute.  Everything and everyone that surrounds me is trying to keep me a carnivore.  One of my Face friends told me he was having a juicy steak.  Yeah, right.  Enjoy the hormones and the cloned corn that those poor cows have to eat.  No grass apply to the steaks that are readily available from most groceries stores.

My sister bought chocolates (milky ones that I do not eat), cheesecake, ice cream, all kinds of cookies, and here I am chewing on mostly grass and some fruits.  But frankly, I feel good about passing up all those goodies.  I don’t try to save her from all those arteries clogging material.  She is younger and can take it, and besides I do not want to spoil her having a good time with the oldest sister.  This is about having a fab time without trying to discuss our aging issues.

What aging issues?  We are chic and look really good.  At least that’s what we tell each other.

Oh, the blessings of sisterhood!

So…it was today…14 September, 2011…a day of enjoying the privilege of having a fun sister,  practice Spanish and remember good younger times.

Your Happy Contessa

“One can never speak enough of the virtues, the dangers, the power of shared laughter.”  Francoise Sagan, French playwright, novelist and screenwriter.  21 June, 1935 – 24 September, 2004.

Yesterday was a day of venturing out…I walked around where I reside.  Kind of apprehensive, because I was by myself, no walking partner and no stick to keep intruders away from me.

Went out before even having breakfast, to get it over with.  Nice going…taking a picture here and another one there…

The gardens are beautiful, so many old trees, pond with ducks and their ducklings, and also saw something moving under some dark spot of the water, but was able to see only bubbles, and after a while, I decided it was better not to be too inquisitive.  Gators do swallow contessas, you know.  They don’t know better.

Then in the evening I decided to go to my first HOA meeting to meet other people.  It was a long meeting and when we were leaving, my nine decades old friend and I, one of my neighbors, probably mid-eight decades invited us to ride with her.  She had driven her car.  Probably no more than 100 steps.  To humor her we decided,  why not.  That’s when the fun began.  My ninety something decided she was going to ride in the back seat, so I could keep an eye on the eighty something doing the driving.

The passenger’s front seat would not move, so my 90’s friend, in her skinny jeans, just decided to squeeze into the back seat.  Just imagine.  The seat belt almost sliced her neck off.  But you know how “we” older chicks are.  We just push and shove ourselves into places that only a razor blade would be able to.

So we rode for a few seconds and then the time to come out from the back seat arose.  We were laughing so hard that we thought she may have to sleep on that back seat.  But another pushing and shoving and there she was, out.

La vida loca.  I am living the crazy life with all these wild women.  I cannot wait to get into my nineties and find out how much crazier my life is going to get.

So…it was today…13 September, 2011…making it through my sixties and anxiously awaiting for my nineties.

Your Happy Contessa

“Getting older is not for wimps.”  The baby boomer generation.

This is harder than I had envisioned.  I forgot…there is no vegan fast food…it is either you cook it or is back to eating unwanted hormones, fat and all kinds of other unmentionable stuff.

The good thing is that when I cook, it lasts for at least three days…that’s the same thing that is not good…you eat the same thing for three days in a row.  I have been looking at recipes, because between my being lazy and not liking to cook and having to cook or starve, the option is obvious…I like to eat…a lot.

This was the end result of my steaming veggies and making brown rice.  It does not look that hot, does it?  But it keeps me chewing and fooling my stomach that something is going down the pipes to make it feel full.  I had some onions, for the first time in over 20 years, and they don’t taste that bad…it is the aftermath that made me be onion free zone again.

This was last Saturday’s lunch, after my French class.  Class went well…my aging neurons are somewhat slow to catch on, but it is only two students.  A young woman in her twenties and myself.  That’s where the problem may be.  She is fast and furious and I am slow and not so on the ball.  But, teacher is a nice young French woman and very understanding.  I think we covered half of the entire course just last Saturday.  Man, I am going to be fully fluent in French by probably next weekend, it she keeps the pace.  My brain may explode, but at least it will be pretty, in French.

I better hit the books and study.  I can not get younger and faster, but I can become a nerdy French student.  That will do.

So…it was today…12 September, 2011…trying to be vegan-a-la-French.

Your Happy Contessa

“C’est la vie!”  Some smart French person.