Not shy, but retiring...

Of the moment but nevertheless momentous, it was a decision I may live to regret. All it took was a visit to a website and one phone call.
As of August 1, I will be among the ranks of those collecting Social Security. (That's if the Republicans don't turn us oldsters into an endangered species. I could have waited, but "entitlement" is sounding more and more like a dirty word.)
Now that reality is setting in, I realize I will also be pursuing side hustles if I want to do more than simply survive on the pittance I will be receiving.
Last night I cranked out 16 photo cards and ordered supplies to make more, plus postcards. I also signed up for a new weekly farmers/crafters market.
The museum was out of my scenic Columbia Gorge and Lewis & Clark DVDs, so I made a batch, also ordering blank DVDs and jewel cases. I will try to sell DVDs, jewelry and some cards and framed photos at my table at the market, plus a few wall hangings or pillows.
Wait a minute --- this is already running into money...
Mom wanted to take me out to dinner last night to celebrate, as she is excited about not having to sit alone at home all day while I am at work. She knew I was tired, and said we could go somewhere close to home.
I refused to go out. I had planted part of our(tiny) vegetable garden before attending a tense PUD meeting --- on my day off. The meeting was mostly in executive session; two of the three board members are trying to fire the PUD manager. That meeting is precisely why I am so ready for retirement. I have known most of the participants for years, including the 'citizen' contingent waiting in the lobby like Madame Defarge (nearly all the complainers wanting him fired are former PUD employees who worked there before he came on board, and things are much better now). One of the PUD commissioners admitted saying their target is a 'sacrificial lamb,' but off with his head nonetheless. There is nothing worse than old '60s activists with too much time on their hands.
Returning to dinner and last night --- I was tired and down in my right hip and I didn't want go out.
There was a bundle of Washington asparagus waiting in the crisper drawer, so this is what I made: I started some Thai jasmine brown rice in a heavy-bottomed saucepan, and removed five small chicken breast tenders from the freezer and placed them on a plate. They were still frozen, but I sprinkled them with 2 tsp. of sesame oil, a splash of fish sauce and 2 T. of low-sodium Trader Joe's soy sauce, mincing a clove of garlic and shaving about 3/4" of frozen ginger root over them. I cut up eight of the thickest stalks of asparagus, removing the fibrous ends. Half a sweet onion and half a sweet red pepper were cut into strips and added to the pile.
Pouring about an inch of excess rice water --- I had used too much water ---into a deep non-stick skillet, I turned the heat on high.
I left a little water in the bottom of the rice and put the lid back on the rice, turning off the heat in a minute, as it was nearly done.
Then I hacked the still partially frozen chicken tenders into 1-1/2" slices and added them and the marinade ingredients to the pan with the rice water. Then I threw in 1" pieces of the lower part of the asparagus stalks, saving the tops to be added toward the end. In went the red pepper and onion strips, plus the chopped white part of two large scallions, saving the green tops for later. I opened a small can of sliced shiitake mushrooms and drained them, throwing them in with the chicken and vegetables. Next I added 2 T. each of oyster sauce, soy sauce and agave syrup, plus several grinds of black pepper (I saved the red pepper flakes for my portion, but you wouldn't have to). I stirred in the remaining asparagus and scallion tops, plus 1 T. of cornstarch. In a couple more stirs, it was done.
The new trick I learned last night: Other than the sesame oil, no oil was used in the stirfry. Although it was the result of a flub, using the excess rice water with its rich jasmine flavor made an excellent sauce base. I will continue to do that. Although browning things in oil adds umami, there was more than enough flavor to go around with those ingredients.
The leftovers are going to work with me today for lunch. With Memorial Day weekend coming up, I have to put in extra hours due to early deadline.
August can't get here fast enough.

A Few Figs

Edna St. Vincent Millay's poem "First Fig," from "A Few Figs from Thistles," is the famous "My candle burns at both ends; It will not last the night; But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends - It gives a lovely light!"
There are subtleties here beyond "burning the candle at both ends."
Yes, we know it will not last the night --- how can it when it is no doubt lying on its side in a puddle of wax?
I love that her reminder goes first to foes, then to friends. If it "gives a lovely light," it is no doubt shining in those enemies' eyes, temporarily blinding them.
The poem has an 'in your face' quality, and reminds me of the old adage to keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
The reference in her book title is to Matthew 7:16 - "By their fruits you will know them. Do you gather grapes from thorns, or figs from thistles?"
She also wrote "Second Fig," a particularly short poem with another biblical reference, this time to the house built upon sand from Matthew 7:26, ten verses later: "And every one that heareth these sayings of mine, and doeth them not, shall be likened unto a foolish man, which built his house upon the sand."
Millay's "Second Fig" says, "Safe upon the solid rock the ugly houses stand: Come and see my shining palace built upon the sand!" That's it, the entire poem.
Back to figs: A good fig isn't easy to find, nor is the first one of the season very good.
But oh, that first one ever. I hadn't tasted a fresh fig until my senior year of high school. Like most kids, I liked Fig Newtons but that was my only exposure to the fruit until we moved to Arizona.
A neighbor down the street had a fig tree in her front yard. She occasionally gave us a bag of them.
They were a revelation. I have craved them since, but seldom can I indulge.
They were everywhere in Sicily. The Italians in this country must have their figs, and have learned to grow them in more inclement climates by "laying them down" for the winter, heeling the small trees under a pile of soil and mulch. In the spring they are set upright again to fruit another season.
My sister brought a small package of figs from a Seattle produce market on a recent visit --- I never see them in the stores here. They were okay, but a little over the hill and watery.
Figs can be such a contrast. They can almost be leathery on the outside (particularly the dark ones) but still juicy and delectable inside. The stem end can be shriveled and they can still be delicious. Sometimes they look fine on the outside, but are dry and insipid inside.
The closest thing to a ripe fig I've come across lately is Guerlain's Aqua Allegoria Figue-Iris in a 5 ml decant from The Perfumed Court. When I wear it, I feel delicious. I am out of Figue-Iris for the moment, but when I wear it, it reminds me all day in subtle whiffs. If I am in a bad mood, I can't wear it -- it serves as a reminder of how happiness should feel. Perhaps I should think of a candle burning bravely at both ends, and wear it all the time.