OLIVES, POTATOES, GROWLING, ZSA ZSA

A quick hodgepodge of completely unrelated stuff.

Yesterday, in her comment on my blog, Myra mentioned something about Christmas stockings - and that sparked a memory that I hadn't thought of in many years.

I've always had an unnatural obsession for olives (yes, olives), ever since I was a tiny child. It's some sort of weird addiction. I can't get enough of them. 

One Christmas when I was either four or five (can't remember), my father put a jar of olives in my Christmas stocking (which I, of course, thought was from Santa Claus). Dad secretly said to Mom "Let's see what the kid goes for first: the toys, candy, or olives."

It was no contest. On Christmas morning, I was ecstatic to find the jar of olives in my stocking. To hell with toys and candy! I pried off the lid and started eating them. My parents eventually pried the jar away from me, or I would have eaten the whole thing in one sitting. 

Strange but true. And I still love olives.
 

The other day when I went shopping in town, I bought a 15 lb. bag of potatoes. Imagine my surprise when I opened it and found a potato that was nearly a foot long. Over eleven inches. I've seldom seen one that big.
This photo doesn't do it justice. 

Please try to contain your excitement.

  
As most of you know, I've been feeding the resident 'possum.  Although basically nocturnal, the 'possum has been coming out in the daylight lately because the nights are so damn cold.

A few days ago my eldest cat Scratch was outside on the back porch. I looked out a window to check on her and she was face to face with the 'possum. Neither of them looked pleased.

I quickly went outside and they were growling at each other! Scratch growls when she's angry, but I've never heard a 'possum growl before. I chased the 'possum and dragged the cat inside.
Not easily intimidated, the 'possum returned five minutes later. I gave him (what else?) some cat food to eat.

I took this blurry pic through the kitchen window.

 Hungarian actress Zsa Zsa Gabor, dead at the ripe old age of 99. Much more known for her glamour and flamboyance than for her acting abilities.

I met Zsa Zsa when I was sixteen. At that time I was a piano student of the Hungarian concert pianist Geza Wolf, who lived in Riverside.

Geza Wolf (real name Wolfenstein) was the former conductor of the Belgrade Opera Orchestra, and a survivor of Bergen-Belsen concentration camp. He was also a close friend of the Gabor family (sisters Zsa Zsa, Eva, and Magda) and visited them often in Palm Springs.

One day when I was arriving at Wolf's house in Riverside, Zsa Zsa was just leaving. We exchanged greetings and talked very briefly. I proudly told her that I was learning some of Liszt's Hungarian Rhapsodies. She mentioned that she could make a helluva good Hungarian goulash.

In retrospect, at the time I was hopelessly immature and too young to make much of an impression. 

Just one of my many fleeting California memories.....

An afterthought:
Longevity seems to be in the Gabor family. Zsa Zsa's mother Jolie lived to be 102.