Friday, September 23, 2011

Last chance grilled pizza....

The weather outside is not cooperating with my vision of what the weather outside should be. My vision is 78 degrees and perfect.  
Things are changing. Some people love the fall, but in my mind, although beautiful, autumn is a harbinger of freezing my tushy off.
So in these dwindling days of warmth, I can still use my grill without donning a parka. At least today I can.  

Here is a recipe for a grilled pizza....

Here is what I started with...

Sprinkle corn meal on a cookie sheet.

Take the dough, divide it into two pieces and press them into  free form shapes on top of the cornmeal.

I remembered I had some baby spinach in the fridge, so I chopped it up to add to the mixture.
I had some left over canned mushrooms, too.

Heated up the grill, turned it to medium heat and laid the dough carefully onto the grill.

When it looked like this on the bottom, I took it off the grill and put it back onto a cookie sheet, grilled side up.

I didn't use pizza sauce. I used Barbeque sauce.

I put the filling on top of the sauce.

I sprinkled some spices on top.

I put a little mozzarella chesse on it AND some blue cheese sprinkles. Put it back on the grill and grill til it's done on the bottom and the cheese is melted. (be careful not to burn it!!)

Serve with a salad and a glass of red wine or a beer.


Friday, September 16, 2011

I can't get this out of my mind....

This is a police artist sketch of what I saw a week ago today.
I was driving down Larrabee road in Westbrook, when suddenly a yellow dog ran across the street in front of my car. The yellow dog had a large jar on it's head.

It went off into the wooded area next to a side road not stopping. There were two motorcycles behind me, each with a passenger. In a panic, I pointed to the side of the road and then saw the motorcyclists looking and pointing to the dog as well. I was sooooo hoping these big motorcycle brutes would pull over and try to help the dog, but they didn't. (wimps)

A million things went through my mind. Should I have stopped and tried to help? But I'm not familiar with dogs and the dog might not have taken too kindly to me poking around in it's affairs.
Getting attacked by a dog was not on my list of things to do that Friday afternoon.

But it was creeping me out so much I couldn't stand it. I was practically in tears! I knew I had to do something.

A couple of miles down the road, in Westbrook, I knew where the police station was, so I stopped there, mentally checking the condition of my car to make sure there was nothing illegal about it first.

I talked to the receptionist and in a rather mild panic, told her what I saw. She said, "Oh dear, the animal control person just went home! You just missed him!" (4:15 pm? Really?)

"You'll have to call the dispatcher", she says.

Conveniently there was a phone on the wall right there with a very clear sign over it that said 'DISPATCHER'.

I picked it up and someone said, "Dispatcher".

I told my story again, still in a mild panic, imagining this poor dog running out of air or something. I told him I couldn't possibly go home seeing what I saw and not reporting it. I was almost sick to my stomach.

He took my info and thanked me. He told me they've been looking for this dog all day. I guess others have reported it. He was sending someone out.


Now, I don't know the end of this story.
I've googled 'dog with jar on head in Westbrook' over several days, but found nothing. I don't know if that's good or bad. I'm hoping they helped the poor thing.

But I don't know, and I can't get it out of my mind.

Like a bad dream.

Sunday, September 11, 2011

I couldn't find it....

My plan today was for a post about 9/11.

Soon after 9/11, we planted a small flag in our front yard, under our majestic maple tree.

There it stayed for a couple of weeks.

Then I took it down, took the stick off, and gently folded it up and put it into a zip lock bag with a note explaining where it was, when and why.

My plan was to put it out today, in the same spot, and photograph it for my blog.

I can't find it.

I know I have it, as over the years I have come across it in my travels. But today.....I couldn't find it.  

So, no photo.

I watched the memorial this morning.

Oh yeah, I remember every minute of that day. I think we all have a 'photo' in our minds that we can pull up.

I don't need a photo.

God Bless America.

Friday, September 2, 2011

What happens when you get old....

A couple of days ago I was attempting to clean the attic. Well, not really clean, but move things around and pretend to clean. Now and then I find something to throw out and something to give to Goodwill, but most of the time I just give all the junk a new spot.

As I was going through some old photographs, I found this one.

I couldn't remember who's house it was or why I took the photo, but there was something extremely familiar about it. I'm guessing it was taken in 1984. Mostly because it said 1984 on the back.

(Remember the old days when you had to take the film to the Drug Store to be developed?)

For the life of me I couldn't figure out why that photo rung a bell. It was haunting. I had to stop working, it was so disconcerting.

Then it dawned on me. Last summer, as we drove up to spend the day in Belfast, we stopped along Route 1 and took a picture of a weird house. Could this possibly be that house?

I checked my i photos and sure enough, there it was....

See what happens when you don't take care of yourself for 27 years?*&^%%$#@