Tag: health

Hear us roar! The love was deafening!

This past Saturday’s Women’s March 2017 was inspiring. I hope this will keep you inspired to continue the work, every day, as we rally for decency and rights for all Americans, and truly, everyone the world over.

I have endeavored to use only photos for which permission was granted, or for which none was needed. If you feel your picture was used improperly, first, I apologize, and second, please contact me at emailjanestreet@gmail.com


Tootling ’round town today, happy as a clam, perhaps even happier, in my trusty 2cc, I was listening to NPR, which I like to think of as “Culture on the Go!” Does anyone listen to the radio whilst stationary? Rhetorical; I’m sure many do, however, I am not of that persuasion. The radio means the smell of the asphalt and the wind in my hair. Well truly, the wind in the scarf that covers my hair. At any rate, the road represents “freedom” to me, a freedom not felt whilst in the confines of my own home. Perhaps it was all those years being constricted by my late husband, Otto.

Where was I?…

Oh yes, road, 2cc, NPR…Well, there I was. And on came the most fascinating piece.

Sandor Ellix Katz, quite the name, was chatting about fermentation. Of food. He is a, or possibly, the, “fermentation revivalist.” His exploration and experimentation in the area of food preservation is seemingly encyclopedic. He has written a couple of volumes on the subject, his latest being “The Art of Fermentation: An In-Depth Exploration of Essential Concepts.” Well la-di-da say I, in the most reverent way possible. If you are going to love a subject, I say, love it to the depths of your soul. And he certainly has. Perhaps this is what comes of being a Jew in Tennessee; one can only speculate. But yes, preservation!

Well, you all know, or should, that I am fascinated by anything to do with preservation. I love old books, papers, furniture, my 2cc, myself… To that preservationist end, I am currently soaking my face in a tub full of vinegar. This is not something Mr. Katz recommends, but I thought, “Why the heck not?” At the very least, it is refreshing, and allows me some quiet, albeit wet, time to share with all of you. The burning in my eyes is but a small price to pay for our wonderful time together!

I am very glad, however, that I invested in that waterproof and, it seems, vinegar-proof, case for my cellular telephone on which I am writing this entry. Frivolous then, prescient now.

Should you be interested in more information on Mr. Katz and his fermented life, you may follow this link: Wild Fermentation.

Oh my, my hands have gotten quite prune-y, and I’ve become overtaken by a strong desire for salad. Time to say, “Bye” for the while. Until next time we meet, here’s a thought: Try to live each day with a little more kindness than the day before. It’s just a thought.

Love, Jane


Oh heavens to Gershwin… I have just removed my sleep mask and peered blearily at my alarm clock…I am horrified to discover that I have been out like a sailor with a weeks pay since the wee hours of New Year’s Day 2012!

How did I know the day from looking at the clock, you wonder, and your confusion would be indeed justified. Well, my sly little pusses, there you have me. I was condensing for dramatic effect! The truth is that upon waking and looking at the clock, I thought to myself, “Heavens, I’ve overslept! I’ve missed part of the Rose Bowl parade!”

So I hopped, or rather unfurled, out of bed, started a pot of extra-strong Joe, grabbed the paper…s. Paper…s? Was there a special extra New Year’s Day edition?, I wondered. Paper…s? And then it started to dawn that something was amiss. The Eagles had landed in too great an abundance. There, in my, now ink-stained, hands was the proof: I had been locked in Morpheus’s embrace since my New-Year’s-Eve-into-New-Year’s-Morn Bacchanalia had come to a crashing, and I realize now, unremembered, finis. Days, of – it now seems required – sleep-filled recovery, had passed! And here it is, Tuesday, and I have missed not only my beloved Rose Bowl Parade, but my Monday posting here!

And now, although there is no way to reset the clock and watch those millions of flowers roll by, I can write of my surprise, and chagrin, at having missed my posting day (and several others), but I live happily knowing that my dear friend Ellen will not mind splitting and sharing her day with me.

Yes, it is a Tuesday with double helping of the ladies of TWSS! And I am sure I speak for us all when I say, “Happy New Year! May you find new mountains to climb, and new comforts to enjoy! Happy 2012!” (Though I am still bitter about the parade…)

Love, Jane


Oh, my dears! What a day this has been!

I am sorry to be so late in posting. My aeroplane from Bulgaria was delayed, ah the travails of modern travel!

Yes, I hopped to Bulgaria for a quick respite from the daily grind. Jane was in need of her beloved town of Pomorie and its medicinal, healing spas. The people are lovely and the mud is heaven! A special “Thank You!” goes out to Benesj, my lovely young man with a trowel. His muddy hands are magic! Then, I had to pop down to Burgas to do a little shopping. And then, home I came.

What do I find upon my return? Scandal and stupidity! Truth be told, and I try to always be truthful, when I left the States, the Double S’s were omnipresent anyway. They seem so difficult to avoid these days. While I always expect to find gold when turning over rocks, I seem lately to find only…well, unpleasant creatures. ‘Tis a sign of the times, I suppose, and one that will undoubtedly circle ’round again, as the times always do.

I had a lovely time voting last week. (Thank you, ladies, for reminding me.) It was the last thing I did before flying out. I returned to find some I voted for had been elected, and some had not. All-in-all, I was not unhappy. I suppose I would have liked to see what Mr. McHale would have done with Reading, being a relative newcomer; not part of the existing, grinding, political machine, as it were. But “Hail” to Mr. Spencer, and God be with you as you take the wheel of this largish and ungainly ship.

And now, ‘ere this post becomes even later than it is already, I shall sign off. As my dear late friend, Mr. Welk, used to say, “Until next week, keep a song in your heart!”

Love, Jane