I usually like Fridays.
Friday means markets and fresh produce.If I'm not in a rush, and have some cash in my purse, I go first to the impromptu stall in the volley ball court just half a block down from my house. This guy unloads his truck with fruit and vegetables from Ambato and stays until about roughly four in the afternoon. He covers the boxes and sacks with a black plastic sheet supported by poles stuck into anything handy.
I buy oranges, pineapple, melon, papaya, taxo, and maracuya (not always ALL of that) and mandarinas king for juices.
I also get small white potatoes when he has them, yuca, maduros dominica-nicer than barraganetes, I think, frejoles tiernos,habas, and if they look really nice, carrots and onions. I never buy lettuce or tomatoes there, though.
I can get all of these at the supermarket, of course, where I also like to go because they have the electric shopping cart. But in the court I get to say hello to the people who have known me for twenty years and therefore call me by my name.
Next I like to visit Pacho and Maritza's organic stall in the Floresta market. If they have them I buy alot of tomatoes-beautiful and tasty. I buy organic lettuce, herbs, leeks, avocados, broccoli, lemons,pimientos and anything else they are trying and looks good. These days I don't anymore, but I used to but yogurt, cheese and eggs also. Martiza makes excellent bread, jams and spreads, too.
The Supermaxi has vegetable and fruit sales on Wednesdays so I try to go then. They have asparagus and sprouts that I can't get elsewhere.
In Queseras del Bolivar I can get mushrooms and nuts wholesale, plus cheeses, butter and pulses grown in a community outside of Quito.
On Tuesdays I can visit Magdalena's feria, held in her garage. She has organic strawberries as well as all the other usual organic items.
It feels really good to be surrounded by the products of a garden. I feel wealthy...and having everything on hand makes it easier to eat well, balanced and of variety.
viernes, 28 de mayo de 2010
jueves, 27 de mayo de 2010
pumpkin and paint
How come I only now, at age 63, did I discover the fantastic advantages of the pressure cooker?
Because I finally ventured out to buy one, think it a useless extravagance. What a mistake!! The thing is a true blessing.
There no longer is the anguish of thinking I need to plan ahead for a simple meal. Dried beans don't really need to be soaked the night before to cook up well, frozen chicken can be put into the pot with vegetables twenty minutes before needing chicken stew or soup, beef stews finally come out with the vegetables totally cooked tasting wonderful, including rock hard carrots,and Marcela even makes brown rice !!! (I haven't tried that yet.)
I haven't discarded my old pots and pans though. Not yet.
Mario called from Riobamba, seeking a painting job. He probably ran out of money at his farm.
So, I decided to just go ahead and do it-revamp a few walls upstairs. I hired him.
Since I can't walk well, and it hurts, I left him on his own alot. THAT, yes, was a mistake.
Mario goes little whacko around paints and brushes.
I bought a pumkinish colour for the entrance, to energize the previously bleak total white (and dirty from hand and bicycle smudges) entrance. WOW. I certainly lucked out with THAT.
It looks terrific!!! The black iron handrails got a coat of terracotta to match, and the whole first impression has changed.
You now go into a warm and welcoming environment.
In the living room, Mario painted three walls with a colour I had chosen for only one, as an experiment-too see how it looked. It was horrible. Other than expressing my first impression,-THREE walls, not one?- I said nothing, but went out to buy a second colour, to tone down the lemonish with splotches from a sponge. It worked- I'm not entirely satisfied, but instead of hiring Mario for more days and mess and bother, I decided to let it go for now. At least it's neat, new and clean.
Oh well...
Then Mario went wild. I puffed achingly in the nest time and immediately saw the far wall that separates the kitchen from the rest of the area. Somebody had painted the window frame bright green some years ago-and below that Mario had used the sponge to dab a bright yellow leftover from a year ago paint. GAG. The yellows didn't match and the area looked like a nursery school.
I lost it.
He'd wasted about a whole two days (and my money) doing things I never asked for. So, I put an end to the contract, even though he did not finish. He was told to paint white over the yellow he'd put in under his own initiative (again, using my money, for his time, the paint, and transportation).
Basically it looks OK, but it's only half finished and my patience has entirely.
Oh, well...
Then he charges. Typical of all Ecuadorian workmen, they think they have done a terrific job, and tell me that they'd charge others x amount. It's useless to argue with them. They just don't understand quality and efficiency. If I do, they reply sounding cruelly exploited, and sulk.So I pay, sort of mumbling about unauthorized work and being charged the time for it and to repair damage. I swear next time I'll check up on him every ten minutes, and before that simply tell him I'll pay him y for the job. Yeah, but then I get too busy, too tired, or too something, or just forget, to follow through on that. Oh, well...
I need the place to be maintained. It's an old house, bought many years ago with a huge effort that I rent now so as to get some income. It's quite nice, but only if the things I slowly put in to make it look nice are taken care of. But people don't understand. Or care. They break things and won't replace them, like the bathroom mirror,and pots. Or they won't water the plants. And they die. This way they tear it down. It begins to look like shit. Just an old house.
I don't snoop on my tenants, and I simply can't inventorize everything.
Sigh.
Some people are nice, though. They have given me things and are clean.
Anyway, I continue to put energy and love into it. I wish my sons would, too.
I wish I still had Marthita or Jackie around to help me-they loved colors. But one has died and the other lives in Cali now. And I'd love to just have the time and money to do at all and well, at one go. But I don't.
Oh well...
The pumpkin colour looks very good, but the carpet now ought to be replaced..
Oh, well...
Because I finally ventured out to buy one, think it a useless extravagance. What a mistake!! The thing is a true blessing.
There no longer is the anguish of thinking I need to plan ahead for a simple meal. Dried beans don't really need to be soaked the night before to cook up well, frozen chicken can be put into the pot with vegetables twenty minutes before needing chicken stew or soup, beef stews finally come out with the vegetables totally cooked tasting wonderful, including rock hard carrots,and Marcela even makes brown rice !!! (I haven't tried that yet.)
I haven't discarded my old pots and pans though. Not yet.
Mario called from Riobamba, seeking a painting job. He probably ran out of money at his farm.
So, I decided to just go ahead and do it-revamp a few walls upstairs. I hired him.
Since I can't walk well, and it hurts, I left him on his own alot. THAT, yes, was a mistake.
Mario goes little whacko around paints and brushes.
I bought a pumkinish colour for the entrance, to energize the previously bleak total white (and dirty from hand and bicycle smudges) entrance. WOW. I certainly lucked out with THAT.
It looks terrific!!! The black iron handrails got a coat of terracotta to match, and the whole first impression has changed.
You now go into a warm and welcoming environment.
In the living room, Mario painted three walls with a colour I had chosen for only one, as an experiment-too see how it looked. It was horrible. Other than expressing my first impression,-THREE walls, not one?- I said nothing, but went out to buy a second colour, to tone down the lemonish with splotches from a sponge. It worked- I'm not entirely satisfied, but instead of hiring Mario for more days and mess and bother, I decided to let it go for now. At least it's neat, new and clean.
Oh well...
Then Mario went wild. I puffed achingly in the nest time and immediately saw the far wall that separates the kitchen from the rest of the area. Somebody had painted the window frame bright green some years ago-and below that Mario had used the sponge to dab a bright yellow leftover from a year ago paint. GAG. The yellows didn't match and the area looked like a nursery school.
I lost it.
He'd wasted about a whole two days (and my money) doing things I never asked for. So, I put an end to the contract, even though he did not finish. He was told to paint white over the yellow he'd put in under his own initiative (again, using my money, for his time, the paint, and transportation).
Basically it looks OK, but it's only half finished and my patience has entirely.
Oh, well...
Then he charges. Typical of all Ecuadorian workmen, they think they have done a terrific job, and tell me that they'd charge others x amount. It's useless to argue with them. They just don't understand quality and efficiency. If I do, they reply sounding cruelly exploited, and sulk.So I pay, sort of mumbling about unauthorized work and being charged the time for it and to repair damage. I swear next time I'll check up on him every ten minutes, and before that simply tell him I'll pay him y for the job. Yeah, but then I get too busy, too tired, or too something, or just forget, to follow through on that. Oh, well...
I need the place to be maintained. It's an old house, bought many years ago with a huge effort that I rent now so as to get some income. It's quite nice, but only if the things I slowly put in to make it look nice are taken care of. But people don't understand. Or care. They break things and won't replace them, like the bathroom mirror,and pots. Or they won't water the plants. And they die. This way they tear it down. It begins to look like shit. Just an old house.
I don't snoop on my tenants, and I simply can't inventorize everything.
Sigh.
Some people are nice, though. They have given me things and are clean.
Anyway, I continue to put energy and love into it. I wish my sons would, too.
I wish I still had Marthita or Jackie around to help me-they loved colors. But one has died and the other lives in Cali now. And I'd love to just have the time and money to do at all and well, at one go. But I don't.
Oh well...
The pumpkin colour looks very good, but the carpet now ought to be replaced..
Oh, well...
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