I think I'd rather eat Haitian mud cookies.

To begin, let’s be clear about one thing: it’s been more than two and half years since Sam and I ate at Cici’s Pizza. The only reason I finally decided to write this review is because on my way home from Pep Boys yesterday morning I drove past Cici’s Pizza on Galloway and there were customers lined up around the building waiting for the doors to open. Under the circumstances, I feel it’s my public duty to warn the good citizens of Howdygramland that you should avoid eating this slop at all costs.

Cici’s is basically a chain of poorly-conceived and miserably-executed pizza buffet restaurants with no ambiance and exceptionally cheap prices. The day we were there our local Cici’s in Mesquite was populated by several hundred bussed-in middle schoolers loading up on free Mountain Dew refills. The pizza itself was a nightmare of extraordinarily terrible toppings on rubbery, previously-frozen dough and included such house specialties as Macaroni & Cheese Pizza, Japapeño Pineapple Pizza, Sloppy Joe Pizza, Hamburger Helper Pizza and Alpo Double-Cheese Surprise. If any of this makes you nauseous there are other meal options as well, like tubs of room-temperature Chef Boyardee pastas and cinnamon churros that walked over from Taco Bell across the street.

Pictured above is a platter of Cici’s finest, including Alpo Double-Cheese Surprise and (on the bottom) Macaroni & Cheese Pizza. The other two pizzas on the plate refused to give me their names without an attorney present, and I couldn’t get the Hamburger Helper Pizza to pose for me.

Bottom line: rather than eating at Cici’s I strongly recommend that you stay home and consider peanut butter and jelly sandwiches or a bowl of cereal. Thank you for reading this. RATING: F.

Nerdlike activities abound.

Sam is still in Houston. I know this for sure because he calls every 27½ minutes to tell me that’s where he is and that he misses me and wants to come home. The coming home part will probably happen tomorrow unless the clients delay their project and he has to stay an extra day. Either way, I’m keeping busy with a pile of design projects, occasional naps and lots of visitors for a quiet Wednesday. My maid service (a team of three Mexican tornadoes armed with mops and Lysol) shows up this morning for an hour and a half, my Schwan’s delivery guy arrives at 12:30 with most of this week’s frozen food order, and at 2:30 a technician from Time Warner Cable drops in to reboot our cable box because we lost some of our high-definition channels last week. Apparently they upgraded their software to accommodate new channels and in the process there was an outage for a whole crowd of customers in Mesquite. And at 4:45, the very moment I decide to watch a movie and take my very first nap of the day, the Schwan’s guy comes back with my missing bag of Buffalo Chicken Egg Rolls.

Hot tip. The most incredible TV show on earth in HD is “Deadliest Catch” on the Discovery Channel. You can see EVERY SINGLE DROP OF WATER in EVERY 30-FOOT WAVE on the Bering Sea. Check it out.

Incidentally, I think Sam is secretly having a good time in Houston. Yesterday he had a chance to explore Galveston Island and today before work he spent a few hours at the Houston Museum of Printing History. Initially I thought I’d poke some fun at this until I checked out their website and realized it’s actually an interesting place for a couple of nerds like Sam and me. He’s got three decades of experience in commercial and financial printing, and I’ve been fascinated with print and type since I was eight years old and my cousin Bobby taught me how to use a manual typewriter. I was hooked for life. In case you’re interested, my top typing speed back in the 1980s was 125 w.p.m. on an IBM Selectric. I even burned out two Selectric motors when I worked at the Chicago Board of Trade and actually made them SMOKE.

See? I told you I was a nerd.

Sometimes I even forget to eat.

On Tuesday Sam went to Houston on business for a few days. This time he decided to drive (it’s a four-hour trip) so he could spend a day on Galveston Island looking for tarballs. I don’t think he found any, but I warned him to steer clear of Gulf seafood and greasy birds just in case. While he’s gone I’ve been working on a variety of client projects, including a new website and redesigning a complex five-page blog. I get so intense that I totally forget to eat, take pills, throw laundry in the dryer and empty my bladder until it’s almost too late. Since it’s already past midnight I think it might be a good idea to grab yesterday’s lunch before it’s time for bed.

For your possible interest here are a couple of new family photos. The one on top is mom with my sister Robin on Mother’s Day. I think mom looks absolutely amazing at almost 90 years old. She gets her hair and nails done every week and even hinted recently that she has a BOYFRIEND at her nursing home. (Oy.) The other photo is my brother-in-law Ron and his grandson Tyler, who just turned two on June 18. I have no idea where Tyler got that little mop of curly red hair, but he’s the cutest kid I’ve ever seen. (I’d say that even if he wasn’t a relative.)

 Thank you for reading this. Seriously.

Celebrating our dads.

First of all, happy Father’s Day to all you dads out there in Howdygramland. We hope you have a terrific day no matter how you choose to celebrate ... whether you’re shlepping somewhere to a brunch, watching the U.S. Open on TV or just pulling weeds in the back yard. Sam and I are a little at loose ends on Father’s Day because both of us are dad-less now. Sam’s dad (Ben) passed away only one year ago; mine (Herb) died in 2002.

It’s interesting how your memories evolve after you lose a parent. In the eight years since my father died I’ve started remembering a lot of very small incidents, like playing Peter Pan when I was four years old and dad would “fly me to bed”. We also danced to Rosemary Clooney records and watched Cubs games on TV, the latter because I mostly loved the commercials (my favorite was the Hamm’s bear) and Ernie Banks.

Dad was a great teacher. He taught me to recognize (and name) every automobile logo by the time I was three so I’d identify all the parked cars whenever we walked around the block. I guess everybody thought I was a baby genius, shrieking “STUDEBAKER!” from my stroller, but I know I made dad proud. He also taught me to order fried rice with a Chinese accent when I was two, turning me into a runaway sensation at the Golden Pheasant restaurant. (If you ever wonder where I got my strange sense of humor, now you know.)

So Happy Father’s Day. Go make some memories!

My favorite guilt-free dessert.

As a diabetic and perpetual dieter I’m always on the lookout for a decent homemade dessert. I’ve tried making pumpkin pie with 1,548 packets of Equal, but it’s not the same as the real thing and you have to wash down the aftertaste with half a quart of Coke Zero. This rice pudding recipe, however, which was invented by yours truly, is the real deal and my all-time favorite. As a bonus it’s also extremely easy to make and you don’t have to wait very long to dig in.

• 3 pkgs.* Jello sugar-free instant vanilla pudding mix
• 6 cups cold nonfat milk
• 1½ cups cooked white rice at room temperature
• ½ cup raisins
• cinnamon to taste

Prepare vanilla pudding in a large bowl according to package directions, then stir in the cooked rice and raisins and refrigerate for 15 minutes. Sprinkle cinnamon on each individual serving. *These are regular-size packages of pudding mix that require 2 cups of milk each for preparation.

This recipe actually makes enough to serve six people or you can keep it all for yourself if nobody else wants any. That’s the case in MY house because Sam doesn’t like rice pudding. Thank you for reading this.

Miscellaneous stuff on a Friday.

First of all, Sam and I celebrated another milestone yesterday! After breakfast at Scrambles (see photo below), our favorite local greasy spoon, we drove around the cattle ranches in Sunnyvale for a few minutes until the odometer on our 2001 Saturn coupe hit 100,000 miles. This was a very large deal, to be sure, but not nearly as much fun as big odometer changes in decades past when it was analog instead of digital and the numbers actually took several seconds to roll over from nines to zeroes. Digital rollovers are so damn fast I was afraid we’d run into a steer trying to watch the odometer. (We didn’t.)

While I’m on the subject of vehicles, has anybody ever seen a Nissan Cube? I spotted one yesterday for the first time on my way to AAA to pick up a 2010 Oklahoma tour book (details to follow). While I seriously hope I’m not offending any of my Howdygram readers, this thing has to be the ugliest car on the road and reminds me of a plastic toy from a Disney Pixar movie. The driver looked like Buzz Lightyear.

Sam has a week of vacation time coming up so we’re planning a three- or four-day driving trip into Oklahoma, maybe somewhere around the Arbuckle Mountains and Turner Falls. This might not sound very exciting to YOU, but we really love road trips and it almost doesn’t matter where we go or what we do, as long as we’re in the car making up songs and eating pretzels. I’ll post pictures when we get back, so stay tuned. In the meantime, don’t forget to floss.

Fat-free, self-contained Fried Eggs-in-the-Shell.

I’ve been making this simple recipe for years with occasional unintentional variations, but the results are always the same. Please feel free to try this one for yourself.

• 1 nice Calphalon saucepan
• 6 cups cold water
• 6 jumbo eggs
• My Cousin Vinny on DVD
• 1 leather sofa

Carefully place your six eggs into the saucepan, add water, and place on the stove on medium heat. Make a vague mental note to check the eggs in about 30 minutes, then lie down on the sofa and accidentally fall asleep watching My Cousin Vinny for an hour and a half until you practically melt your 10-pound hard-anodized Calphalon pot. You won’t ever need a timer for any of this because the smell of sizzling eggshells will eventually wake you up ... guaranteed. Then just plunge the eggs into cold running water for 10 minutes and refrigerate. Once these little orbs of white lava cool off you can use them like normal hard-boiled eggs.

I’m going to use some of mine to make a bowl of salmon salad this afternoon. (Salmon salad is a lot like tuna salad except I don’t have any tuna.) It’s very good on crackers or a bagel. Thank you for reading this.

Things that can scare your husband.

Actually, it’s just ONE thing. I’ve been making Sam the same turkey and pepperjack cheese sandwich on Orowheat Oatnut bread with one teaspoon of mayonnaise every day for six years, but last Wednesday, for whatever reason, I FORGOT TO CUT IT IN HALF. I just wrapped it in wax paper, maneuvered it into a quart-size ziploc bag and sent him to work with a whole sandwich, a bag of baby carrots and a nice yogurt.

I first get wind that something’s amiss when Sam calls a few hours later from work and says, “Is everything okay?” Sure. Why? “Are you feeling all right?” I’m FINE. “Are you mad at me?” Of course not. WHAT’S GOING ON?

“You didn’t cut my sandwich today.”

Wow. If a momentary kitchen misstep is all it takes to propel Sam to doubt my love, my health or my sanity, from this day forward that damn sandwich gets sawed into triangle fourths with ruffled toothpicks and a cloth napkin. Thank you for reading this, and bon appetit.

Sometimes a girl just can't catch a break.

This morning I was whining to Sam that I’m really REALLY sick of doctor appointments. I can’t even keep track of how many I’ve had in the past two years ... countless visits and follow-ups for diabetes, high blood pressure and high cholesterol, experimenting with various doses and combinations of medications, nonstop lab tests, plus treatment for a urinary tract infection, ingrown toenails, plantar fasciitis, a botched frontal lobotomy, carpal tunnel syndrome and most recently — of all things — ANEMIA. (Just kidding about the frontal lobotomy.)

I should be careful what I wish for, though, because I LOST A TOOTH while I was eating dinner a little while ago ... so now I have to add DENTIST appointments to my never-ending list of DOCTOR appointments! The tooth in question is actually the crown from my upper right bicuspid, which fell out in one piece, post and all. I had root canal on that tooth two or three decades ago, so at least it doesn’t hurt, but now I’m sure I’ll be faced with the inevitable battle with a dental professional over how to proceed with the restoration. I have my own agenda on this subject for reasons that will remain unwritten for the time being. (If you’re interested in details you can send me an email.)

I think I’ll go gum some carrots. Thank you for reading this.

I swore I'd never do this, but what the hell.

It’s already after midnight, so it’s Monday now. And that means Sam is coming home today! He’s been in California since the Friday before Memorial Day, horsing around in the San Fernando Valley with his mom, his aunts and assorted siblings, friends and acquaintances. To say I’ve missed Sam would be the understatement of the century, because I desperately need somebody to scratch my back, kiss my face and drag out the garbage cans, but not necessarily in that order.

So to prepare for my big sweetie’s return I decide to go to Costco on Sunday morning for a variety of his favorite food products, including organic raspberries, a two-pound package of lox, chicken flautas and a gigantic tub of cashews. Unfortunately, it’s 100° outside with tons of humidity, a hazy sky and probably way too much pollution, and I’m thinking I really shouldn’t get carried away buying too much food in this heat because shlepping through Costco can be exhausting for me, and there’s nobody waiting at home to help unload the trunk and put everything away. As I’m limping into the store with my cane the 18-year-old greeter at the main entrance figures I look pathetic enough for an electric riding shopping cart ... and I decide to do the unthinkable: I SAID YES AND GOT ON.

This was the experience of a lifetime! After a 30-second driving lesson — “push this to go forward, push this to back up” — here I was, Princess Marcy, sitting on my ass in Costco, careening up and down every aisle and maneuvering three-point turns like Mario Andretti at 5 mph. I didn’t hit any people, I didn’t ram into that tower of Windex and I didn’t block traffic. I bought everything on my shopping list and was back in the parking lot 20 minutes later. I can’t wait to do this all over again ... except next time I think I’ll try offering cheap rides to old people and pregnant women. Does $2.25 sound like too much?

Thank you for reading this. Seriously.

Meet the Windy City sleazebags.

Many of you probably know that I grew up in Chicago. Even though I moved away 23 years ago I still love to follow their local news, exposés and scandals because nobody does sleaze quite like the Windy City. Although a lot of this stuff may seem funny from a distance, I’d be a nervous wreck if I still lived in Chicago and my tax dollars were funding any of this corruption.

The latest hoo-hah involves Cook County Board President Todd Stroger, a short-timer/lame duck since losing the February primary. With less than six months left to serve, Stroger has been on a spending spree ... adding aides and assistants (most with six-figure salaries) to his staff despite a county-wide hiring freeze. One new hire was Carla Oglesby as Stroger’s deputy chief of staff at $120,000 a year. Oglesby is highly qualified for a job in county government based on prior experience as a promoter for hip-hop artists.

Immediately after joining Stroger’s staff she weasled 11 lucrative contracts for friends and former co-workers, each in an amount just under $25,000 — the level at which County Board approval is required. One contract for $24,995 went to her own public relations agency. Others were deals for ridiculous projects that were never completed, including $24,995 to a professional basketball promoter for a “composting awareness program” and $24,995 to Wallace “Gator” Bradley, who refers to himself as an “urban translator.”

But the latest fraud is Carla Oglesby’s $150,000 expenditure to various local bogus companies for “census outreach contracts.” The deals were all awarded to cronies recommended by Oglesby and Eugene Mullins, one of Stroger’s boyhood friends. Two of the census contracts were given to the Chicago rap duo Dude ’N Nem, best known for their single “We Are Going to McDonald’s.” (Stop laughing.) A website for one of Oglesby’s other recommended companies asks job applicants for their modeling experience, measurements and four photographs. The contact for another takes you to nearly-nude photos on a MySpace page.

I need to know why these gangsters are not in jail. I mean, I watch “Cops” all the time and see people getting chased and tackled and arrested on $200 warrants when they forget to pay a TRAFFIC TICKET. How can crooks like Todd Stroger and Carla Oglesby steal from taxpayers and get away with it? THE PEOPLE OF ILLINOIS NEED ANSWERS. Thank you. I’m going to bed now.

Two adorable things.

I watched a terrific film on cable last night. I’ll bet nearly everybody else on the planet has already seen it, but WALL-E is probably the cutest movie I’ve seen in YEARS. The lead character is a little trash compactor (Waste Allocation Load Lifter, Earth-Class) who’s apparently all alone on earth after humans left it too filthy to inhabit and decided to live in outer space. Little WALL-E barely makes any intelligible sounds at all, but you have no problem figuring out what he’s thinking and feeling. Always lonely, he watches a “Hello Dolly” video over and over and over, collects cigarette lighters and has a pet cockroach who lives inside a Twinkie. Disney Pixar did the animation, and it’s really breathtaking. I can’t wait for Sam to come home next week so we can watch it together. Here’s the original theatrical trailer:


And speaking of Sam, he’s the OTHER adorable thing I’m going to write about here. Last night he went shopping with his mom at Trader Joe’s — the best grocery store on earth — and called to give me a detailed, aisle-by-aisle rundown of everything on the shelves so we could reminisce together. Sam knows how much I miss Trader Joe’s. (Every now and then I email their corporate headquarters and ask them to open stores in Dallas. They always write back and act polite, but I think they’re ignoring me.)

Incidentally, I had to cancel my appointment this afternoon with the hand surgeon. I know this will sound idiotic, but I wasn’t feeling well enough to go to the doctor! I guess it was a fatigue thing ... an occasional side effect from some of the medications I take. I just didn’t have the energy or motivation to shlep to Rockwall today in 99° heat, so I’ll reschedule (again). And speaking of hot weather, we’ve got a dangerous heat situation developing this weekend. Temperatures will be 105° here on Saturday, Sunday and Monday but will feel more like 110° with the humidity. If you think I’m leaving the house in weather like that, you’re nuts. I’m going to stay home with a bottle of Coke Zero and redesign Ovation Creative’s logo and website. Thank you for reading this.

Lunching in Calabasas.

News flash ... Sam is still in California. His Aunt Adie emailed some photos she took yesterday at lunch in Calabasas with Sam and his mom. (Those club sandwiches really look good.)

I’ve got an appointment with a hand surgeon this afternoon. I’m hoping we’ll be able to make some definite plans to cure my carpal tunnel problem because my right hand has been basically USELESS since the beginning of March. I can’t hold a toothbrush or a pen, can’t sign my name, blow-dry my hair, dice an onion, push a shopping cart or grip a steering wheel. I know I’ve whined about all this before, but after a round of steroid medication and three months in a surgical wrist brace NOTHING HAS IMPROVED. So my internist referred me to a surgeon, and that’s where I’ll be at 2 p.m. this afternoon. I’ll post again as soon as I know what’s what, okay? (Thank you for your concern. Send presents.)

Some of my favorite places are websites.

Scroll down a little, keep an eye on the right-hand column, and you’ll see a section called Fun Links. Trust me ... you’re definitely missing something if you’ve never checked out any of these web destinations! My favorites are Engrish.com (which I’ve been enjoying for YEARS) and AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com. A sample of the latter appears below. Incidentally, it’s always pleasant to see happy, flabby people enjoying their pets. Do you think they used this shot for their Christmas cards?

In other news, former Illinois governor Rod Blagojevich’s corruption trial starts Thursday in the U.S. District Court in Chicago. I wish this was being televised! The sleaze and drama factors will be off the charts and it’s bound to be even better than the “Real Housewives of New Jersey” ... which is pretty revolting in case you’ve never seen it. Apparently the government’s evidence against Blagojevich is staggering, but since I won’t be able to watch the courtroom hoo-hah on TV I guess I’ll have to get my daily serving of fresh baloney on the Chicago Tribune’s website. Thank you for reading this.

Royals run amok.

Our latest Einstein Award goes to Sarah Ferguson, the Duchess of York, who’s been caught on videotape — in a Maxwell Smart caper of her own invention — selling access to her ex-husband, Prince Andrew, for $720,000. An undercover reporter is shown handing her a $40,000 down payment and promising to wire the balance to a private bank account.

Apparently the Duchess currently owes creditors as much as $7 million as she tries to keep up a royal lifestyle she can’t afford, which includes a Bentley limousine and chauffeur, blowing thousands of dollars on handbags, hats and hair accessories, a staff of aids and personal assistants, sponging, haggling, requesting invoices for everything and using her daughters’ credit cards to stay afloat. And if that’s not bad enough, whenever they’re presented with a bill her assistants are trained to look offended and say, “Surely the Duchess isn’t expected to pay for this?”

Oy, Sarah ... this is 2010 ... who turned you into Marie Antoinette? Do you seriously think the rest of us could ever get away with this crap? I mean, can you picture me with a full cart in the checkout lane at Target saying, “Surely Marcy isn’t expected to pay for this?” Or trying to sell somebody secret access to Sam?

I think this woman needs a JOB. And since the Duchess obviously has no vocational training of any kind — or any skill in undercover operations — she might think about driving her own car and selling Amway. Thank you for reading this.

Keeping busy for Memorial Day weekend.

I suppose I should start by announcing that Sam is in the San Fernando Valley for the next 10 days visiting his mom and siblings, so I’m totally on my own here. It’s definitely quiet around the house when Sam’s away. I never realize how noisy he is until he’s gone.

The scope of my plans for Memorial Day weekend won’t extend too much beyond my neighborhood here in Mesquite. But next week I’m definitely up for a trip to Central Market in Dallas. Central Market is food nirvana. If you’re from southern California, it’s like a combination of Whole Foods, Bristol Farms and Gelson’s ... only more so. They’ve got the most amazing meat, deli and exotic produce on the planet, plus a bazillion kinds of cheese, a display of olives half a block long and a bakery department the size of my house with home-made marble rye TO DIE FOR. (Sam and I actually try to stay away from Central Market because we never get out of there for under $100 ... even when we don’t need anything.)

In the meantime, to keep myself occupied with extracurricular projects I’m getting an early jump on this year’s Christmas cards. I’ve already designed them (including Hanukkah), had them professionally printed, created custom return address labels to match, and this afternoon I even addressed all the envelopes! I’m so impressed with myself that I think I’ll insert a shameless plug here for my graphic design business, Ovation Creative, just in case you didn’t know that I actually do something productive besides laundry and writing the Howdygram.

So ... shalom to everybody, have a safe and fun Memorial Day weekend, and send me an email or post a comment when you have a minute!

May is a month for milestones.

For Sam and me, the end of May holds a couple of very important milestone anniversaries. I think you’ll agree these are both a super huge deal.

Milestone #1. We’re celebrating three years since Sam accepted a job transfer to Dallas and we spent the four-day Memorial Day weekend here shopping for a house. The one we bought was actually the third house we looked at; the others all paled by comparison. It was easy to make a quick decision because we knew this house was ABSOLUTELY PERFECT for us the minute we walked in the door. We moved in 30 days later and just love it here.

Milestone #2. I quit smoking the day after we put a bid on our new house because I didn’t want it to turn into a gigantic, smelly nicotine pit. I quit cold turkey after being addicted to cigarettes for 42 years and smoking a carton of More Menthol every single week. Yesterday I figured out that I’ve saved $6,240 by NOT BUYING CIGARETTES since May 2007. Holy cow.

On another subject altogether, I just ordered a shopping cart from Wal-Mart.com. I desperately need something to help me shlep groceries from the garage to the kitchen because my hands are useless. In my left hand I use a cane for my arthritic knees, and carpal tunnel syndrome in my right hand makes it almost impossible to carry anything. The cart I bought is pictured at right. It’s very cute, holds up to 120 pounds and is exceptionally cheap ($17.89 plus 97¢ shipping). It should be here next week.

Smooches to everybody. I’m going to watch an old John Wayne movie now while I wait for Sam to come home from work. I just finished recording They Were Expendable.

Seems like a good time for an update.

Actually, there’s not that much going on here today. We’ve got hot but pleasant weather, Sam’s at work, and I’m diddling with some graphic design projects, writing email and thinking about a nap ... but only if the spasm in my right hand calms down so I can fall asleep. (Damn carpal tunnel syndrome.) Which reminds me: I RESCHEDULED MY APPOINTMENT WITH THE HAND SURGEON for 2 p.m. on June 2. I decided to give him a second chance after my first try didn’t work out very well (read the post). And on June 3 I’ll see my regular internist for a medication follow-up plus a few lab tests to make sure I’m not anemic any more. Frankly, that’s more than enough medical hoo-hah for one week. I can barely remember what life was like without a continuous stream of doctor appointments.

I think I’ll drown my frustration with a large quantity of Chinese food ... my all-time favorite cuisine ever since I was 12 months old in a high chair gumming egg rolls at the Golden Pheasant Restaurant in Chicago. Here in Texas I always order from King China in Garland. They’ve got a huge menu, the best hot & sour soup in town and deliver so fast it always startles me. (They tell me 45 minutes when I call in my order but show up in less than half an hour. I don’t know how they do it.) What’s YOUR favorite cuisine? Add a comment and let me know!

Sam & Marcy's weekend overview.

I love productive weekends, don’t you? Sam and I managed to fit in lots of exciting activities in addition to several naps. For instance:

A junket to Costco. On Saturday morning while I shoved a cart around the store buying marinated shrimp, organic raspberries and a gigantic bottle of salsa, Sam hung out at the AT&T booth and got us some new cell phones. It’s a remedial Motorola model and exactly what we wanted: free, easy to use, huge keys and no fancy doodads. (See photo below.) I know some of you will find this hard to believe, but the only thing we use them for is PHONE CALLS. Don’t tell anybody.

A long ride across Dallas. Early Saturday evening we drove Northwest Highway from our house in Mesquite all the way out to suburban Coppell ... about 40 miles each way on surface streets. Sam and I love driving around together because it’s like being on vacation. Plus we get to suck Altoids and wear seat belts.

Adventures with Cincinnati Chili. I bought all my ingredients on Friday and made the recipe Sunday afternoon for the first time in more than 20 years ... and it turned out GREAT. Sorry, but I didn’t invite anybody to share it with us because leftover Cincinnati Chili is awesome.

Yard appreciation. Our lawn is the envy of our subdivision. In the last few days three neighbors, an exterminator and a Schwan’s delivery guy have stopped to comment on the condition of our front yard, which is a thick, weed-free carpet of green. Trust me, this is no accident. We have excellent landscapers who mow and edge for us once a week, but it’s Sam who pulls every weed by hand and fertilizes the grass.

Turner Classic Movies. This weekend’s filmography included: 1) Double Wedding with William Powell and Myrna Loy; 2) a dopey British film about a goat called A Kid for Two Farthings; 3) The Rising of the Moon, a trio of weird Irish short stories directed by John Ford; 4) a terrific comedy called Captain’s Paradise with Alec Guiness; and 5) Tarzan the Ape Man with Johnny Weissmuller, Maureen O’Sullivan, C. Aubrey Smith and Cheetah. Incidentally, when we aren’t watching movies we like to watch “Cops.”

Thank you for reading this.

This Cincinnati Chili recipe is the real deal.

Ever been to Cincinnati? I’m not quite sure why, but they’ve got their own crazy, amazing chili recipe with some mighty unusual ingredients, originally created in the 1920s by a family of Greek immigrants who opened a chain of restaurants. I spent a fair amount of time in Cincinnati back in the 1970s and 80s (my first husband had relatives there), and every visit ALWAYS included chili.

Genuine Cincinnati Chili, which is more like an exotic meat sauce than a bowl of traditional chili, can be eaten five ways: 1) by itself; 2) over spaghetti; 3) with shredded cheddar cheese on top; 4) with shredded cheddar cheese and chopped onions; and 5) with shredded cheddar cheese, chopped onions and beans. My personal preference is for “three-way” chili (over spaghetti with shredded cheddar cheese). And I always use angel hair pasta. Anyway, I’ve had a huge craving for this stuff lately, so here’s the recipe. And it’s definitely the real deal!

• 5 cups water
• 2 lbs. lean ground beef
• 2 medium onions, chopped fine
• 2 8-oz. cans tomato sauce
• 5 whole allspice
• 1½ teaspoons cayenne pepper
• 1 teaspoon ground cumin
• 4 tablespoons chili powder
• ½ oz. unsweetened chocolate
• 2 cloves garlic
• 2 tablespoons vinegar
• 1 whole bay leaf
• 5 whole cloves
• 2 teaspoons Worcestershire sauce
• 1½ teaspoons salt
• 1 teaspoon cinnamon

Add ground beef to water in a large kettle. Stir until beef separates to a fine texture and boil slowly for 30 minutes. Add all other ingredients, stir to blend, return to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer uncovered for about three hours. Pot may be covered during the last hour if desired consistency is reached. Incidentally, if you don’t use lean beef you should probably refrigerate your chili overnight so the fat can be skimmed from the top before reheating. This is definitely fantastic served over spaghetti!

I know this sounds like a complicated recipe, but really it’s a no-brainer ... just throw everything into a pot and let it cook. I don’t even dice my own onions any more (carpal tunnel syndrome won’t let me hold a knife in my right hand) so I buy little tubs of chopped-up onions at the supermarket. They taste exactly the same as the onions you dice yourself. Isn’t progress wonderful?

A senior advantage.

Know what’s nice about getting older? YOU DON’T HAVE TO TAKE PEOPLE’S CRAP ANY MORE. For example, I had an appointment yesterday with a hand surgeon that never actually got off the ground. Sam and I showed up at 9 in plenty of time for my appointment and then found ourselves stuck in a waiting room populated with way too many patients for a one-man medical office. At 9:30 Sam asked the receptionist how much longer this hoo-hah was supposed to take and she said the doctor was running 20 minutes behind schedule.

Yeah, right. We’d already been there for 30.

At 9:50 a medical assistant finally escorts me into an examining room, asks when did I first experience my carpal tunnel symptoms (even though this information is already on the new patient paperwork I’d brought with me), and then shuts the door and leaves me there for ONE SOLID HOUR reading back issues of People magazine. (It isn’t a total loss. Did you know that Miley Cyrus loves pink lip gloss?)

At 10:50 I open the door to my little dungeon and walk towards the waiting room. Two medical assistants throw themselves in front of me and ask where I’m going, and I reply, “HOME. I got here at 9 o’clock and still haven’t seen the doctor. My husband has to go to work, and I’M DONE WITH THIS.” An office manager named Jill beats herself up with apologies and says: “I’m really sorry. I’m sure you’ll be next. Don’t you want to wait a few more minutes and see the doctor?” To which I reply, “Nope.” (A few years ago I would’ve let these people intimidate me into staying.)

I did tell Jill I’d consider rescheduling my appointment if she could guarantee a time that didn’t involve a two-hour wait. Apparently I can either be the doctor’s first patient of the day at 7:45 a.m. (not on your life, folks) or his first appointment right after lunch at 1:45, which definitely sounds like the better deal. I’ll let you know how this turns out. In the meantime, of course, my hand still hurts.

Celebrating our first coffee pot volcano.

A few days ago I was watching this hilarious reality show on BBC America called “How Clean Is Your House,” where two middle-aged British women in lab coats clean up the dirtiest homes on the planet. On last week’s show Kim and Aggie were helping a retired NYC fireman sanitize his hovel so his 14-year-old daughter could spend the summer with him and not throw up from embarrassment. For instance, he’d been sleeping on a plastic-covered love seat in the upstairs hall for the last two years because his bedroom was so overrun with trash, food and dirty laundry that he couldn’t find the bed. And there was mold growing in his kitchen cookware and E.coli bacteria on the countertops. (I can’t find adequate words to describe the condition of his bathroom.)

If you wonder why I’m telling you this, it’s because halfway into the show I learned a terrific household hint! Aggie’s tip for cleaning seriously stained cookware (or cookware with burned-on food) is EFFERDENT TABLETS in warm water ... so I decided to try this on our stainless steel coffee carafe, which was so discolored it almost looked black inside. (The last time I cleaned this thing I used a stiff brush and a whole 16 oz. bottle of Soft Scrub. It took TWO HOURS.) I immediately sent Sam to Wal-Mart for a box of Efferdent.

So we pop in a couple of tablets, fill the carafe with warm water and wait 15 minutes. There’s a little bubbly stuff going on, but basically it doesn’t do much of anything and the stain doesn’t budge. That’s when Sam figures maybe we’re supposed to use MORE than two, which makes pretty good sense, so we throw in 24 tablets and (eureka!) wind up with a third-grade Mount St. Helens science project spewing endless foam all over the sink while thousands of hysterical citizens run for cover. (I’m just kidding about that last part.) The result? Our carafe is stain-free, sparkling clean and minty fresh. It just doesn’t get much better than this!

In other news, Sam and I enjoyed a nice little drive on Sunday out to Ham’s Orchards in Terrell for a bunch of fresh peaches. Unfortunately, their first crop is a few days late so we browsed around in the produce market and wound up with a gigantic seedless watermelon and a jar of homemade “Texas Caviar” instead. For those of you unfamiliar with the latter, this is basically a spicy relish made with black-eyed peas.

Maybe we’ll try again for peaches next weekend. Thank you for reading this.

Here's what I've been up to lately.

Once again I let a whole bunch of days slide by without posting, but this time I wasn’t being a slug. Apparently a lot of my graphic design clients decided the second week of May would be the perfect time to add new pages to their websites, order postcards and brochures and refer me to three friends who want logos and business cards. As a result I’ve had a gazillion projects to do ... plus I’m waiting for two new website clients to review and sign their contracts. None of this is easy to do with carpal tunnel syndrome because it hurts to type and work with a mouse, so I decided against writing an excessive number of blog posts for a while to prevent my right hand from turning into a SPASTIC CLAW. Fortunately, relief is on the horizon ... I’ve got an appointment with a hand surgeon on Tuesday morning. I’m so excited I could slap the mailman!

There’s a lot of weather heading our way tonight. This is in addition to all the weather we had this afternoon, such as three hours of thunderstorms and some moderately heavy rain (which we desperately needed). Right now the next storm system is just west of Forth Worth, heading due east straight for Mesquite. Weather.com says it should start booming here around 1 a.m. Sam and I love nighttime thunderstorms. If it’s not too late we open the garage door and sit on card chairs to watch the lightning; otherwise we hold hands in bed and enjoy the hoo-hah through the bay windows.

Here’s hoping y’all have a swell weekend. Smooch.

Giving it a rest on Monday.

I just canceled my 10:30 a.m. eye doctor appointment because I don’t feel like going. I’ve got some excellent reasons for this: 1) we’re expecting thunderstorms; 2) I’d rather stay home and hang out with Sam; 3) I didn’t get enough sleep last night; and 4) I want to make homemade potato salad. Bottom line: a last-minute cancellation is almost as luxurious as CUTTING SCHOOL.

In other news, I probably don’t have to tell any of you about the final straw in Tiger Woods’ public meltdown. After failing to make the cut last week at Quail Hollow he quit during Saturday’s third round at the Players Championship complaining about a bulging disk in his neck ... probably because he needed a mighty good excuse for whacking his ball into the lake on the 9th hole when he was actually teeing off on the 8th. Every aspect of this guy’s life is a total train wreck. He can’t hit a golf ball, long-time swing coach Hank Haney resigned, his wife is filing for divorce, helicopters hover over his house in Florida day and night waiting for a scoop, sponsors are dropping him left and right, the sports media thinks he’s a pathological liar and he was even being heckled by a 7-year-old fan in the gallery at Sawgrass. It might be time for Tiger Woods to try another line of work, maybe landscaping or a degree from ITT Tech. Thank you for reading this.

Happy Mother's Day.

This isn’t really news, but it’s been a whole week since my last post. I’m sure you’ll forgive me, though, because it’s not like I drank the only cold Coke in the fridge or ripped off your last five dollars. You get my drift.

It’s Sunday, May 9, and there are two important holidays on the calendar today. First, please accept the Howdygram’s very best wishes as you celebrate Lost Socks Memorial Day, possibly with a candlelight vigil in the laundry room or a nice brunch. Second, I want to wish all you moms out there a very happy Mother’s Day. For the record, mine (Shirley) is comfortably ensconced in an assisted living nursing facility in suburban Chicago; Sam’s mom (Belle) lives in North Hollywood in the same house he grew up in. Here’s a photo of Belle taken recently at the beach in Malibu.

Incidentally, the thunderstorm that woke me up 45 minutes ago has finally passed, so I’m thinking this might be a perfect opportunity to go back to bed. Thank you for reading this.

Let's play another round of Side Effects Bingo.

We can thank my new blood pressure medication for the fact that I’m writing a post at 5:15 in the morning. I started taking Bystolic at bedtime (doctor’s instructions) about two weeks ago and haven’t had a decent night’s sleep since. Dr. Meyrat probably recommended bedtime because the label says it’s supposed to make me drowsy, but the opposite effect is happening: I’m wide awake all night and tired all day from lack of sleep. And this is also the most expensive medication I’ve ever taken. I’ll talk to my doctor on Monday and tell her we have to try something else.

Of course, Bystolic isn’t the only drug that’s giving me insane side effects. Pravastatin, which dropped my cholesterol from 225 to 132 in less than six months, is also responsible for my hair loss and muscle pain in my legs and lower back. And I’m also taking Benazepril, Hydrochlorothiazide, Metformin, Glyburide, Naproxen, iron supplements and vitamin D ... all of which are interacting like a gigantic chemical stew and making me feel completely whacked-out. I’ve got equipment on my desk to monitor my own blood glucose, heart rate and blood pressure. The only thing I haven’t got in here is a bedpan.

I think I’ll go eat a bagel and lie down in the family room. Maybe I’ll even fall asleep for a little while. Hold that thought.