Lucky Seven Cat Ranch

Goats ate my blog

2010-09-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

The Fireball Chronicles mentioned in the previous post is dead.

No one wants to hear about my frustrations with my weight ... not even me.

I much prefer talking about our new goats and alpacas, kids and wild bread, and how cool God is.

Come on over to Angel Acres and feel the love! :D

Peace out, Y'all!

And now for something not entirely different...

2009-12-28T11:33:00.001-08:00

Hey Folks!

Just wanted to let you know I'm combining Lucky Seven Cat Ranch and The Magnificents into one blog under a new name and location.

Come visit me at The Fireball Chronicles! I will continue to write about the same stuff... and something entirely new and previously undiscussed!

For now... this blog will also remain live should you wish to plumb the archives.

Hope to see you soon!

True Love

2009-06-21T18:08:00.001-07:00

How do you know when it's the Real Thing?

When your man builds you a fire in the middle of June because he knows just how much you would love it... then, puts on his reading glasses so he can see what he's doing while he paints your toes in front of said fire...

THAT, Ladies, is the man to keep for the rest of your days.

Thank you for the AMAZING birthday, Honey, and Happy Fathers Day, too!

I Love you more than "love."

Things I Know For Sure Now That I'm 42

2009-06-20T11:53:00.001-07:00

In my four-plus decades on this planet, I have learned, or perhaps more accurately realized and assimilated, more in the past 24 months than in the sum of the previous 480.

These realizations range from profound to just plain silly and what follows is a by-no-means-complete list in no particular order:

• There is no greater or more powerful path to REAL Freedom than complete surrender to Truth. The process for me hasn't been pretty, easy, instantaneous or anything less than excruciating, but the payoff has truly been life-changing. "The Truth Shall Set You Free" may be a cliché ... that doesn't make it any less accurate. The thing about secrets is, you don't realize how heavy they are until you have none. What sweet relief!

• Miracles happen. Every day. Everywhere. You've just got to be willing to see them for what they are and stop using limiting, cyinical words like "coincidence," "accident," and "fluke." God loves us and wants to surprise us with happy things like any loving parent does. This morning He surprised me with two, very appreciated gifts: My children slept until nearly 10:00 (which NEVER happens) AND a "bouquet" of daisies that just appeared in our pasture this morning, right outside my kitchen window. These are the ONLY daisies in our pasture. Two acres of weeds and grass, never one daisy and precisely on June 20th... Boom. Like I said. Little miracles.

• When he puts his mind to it, my husband is an excellent cook! This morning he got inspired to make me strawberry crepes for my birthday... and he knocked it out of the park! I'm quite certain that if he ever got truly turned on to the idea, he would outstrip my culinary abilities in a heartbeat. While I await that glorious day, however, I will just enjoy his momentary gourmet outbursts and my current reign as primary house chef.

• Crepes are an absolutely outstanding way to serve fresh strawberries!

• And when you run out of crepes, they're really awesome on left over strawberry dumpling noodles, too.

• My children are two of the most Spiritually aware and powerful people I know.

• I LOVE to mow the lawn! (As long as I'm using our riding mower.)

• I enjoy doing stuff in the yard a whole lot more than I ever thought I would and am now a little obsessed with landscaping, plants and the outside of the house in general.

• There is nothing on this earth that can overpower the fierce beauty of Grace.
Definition:
Grace: 1. (in Christian belief) the free and unmerited favor of God, as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings.
2. My youngest daughter.
Take your pick, they are both truly AMAZING.

• I am certain, no matter how old they get, my children will never outgrow their passion for dirt.

• My oh-so-fragile preemie, first-born has blossomed into a vibrant, resilient, generous, brilliant young woman who embodies genuine love and intense gentleness. Anna can smell God in the approach of a rain cloud, see Him in the emerging chartreuse hues of Spring's first tender shoots and respects every creature and being as unique and precious... from potato bug to toddler.

• My husband is a study in unknown depths. Just when I'm certain I know all there is to him he'll surprise me with some insightful observation, unexpected wisdom, or tender expression that takes my breath away. I am beyond grateful that I had the unparalleled honor and privilege to marry him twice!

• I have never been more contented or truly joyful in my life and there is no place or time I would rather live than here and now and no other person I would rather be than me.

• To say I am "fortunate" is an understatement of Biblical proportions... fact is... looking at my life and the Grace, Love, Abundance and Blessing that define it, I'm convinced I'm God's favorite! :D

Happy June 20th, Y'all!

A Bowl Full of Memories

2009-06-15T08:06:00.000-07:00

Good morning, Folks!

I realized last night, much to my chagrin, that it has been a full seven months since I last posted. Good grief! Life is BIG, people!

Facebook has a small part to play, I suppose, but I'm back with a subject that is so worthy of telling the world that I just had to break my unintentional blog silence...

IT'S STRAWBERRY SEASON IN OREGON!!!

Wondrous and amazing as that fact is all on its own, two other things related to this subject fill me with rapturous glee: 1) this year's crop of our own homegrown strawberries is very nearly perfect... and 2) they are so bountiful, I have enough to make STRAWBERRY DUMPLINGS!!!

These luscious, seasonal gems from my childhood are so far from the usual strawberry fare that they cause a very specific chain reaction of sensations when I eat them... the sum of which is, I am rendered helpless to look in any direction but into the bowl of creamy, chewy, not-too-sweet goodness and bob around in the memory-laden cream... eight years old, hearing my Grannee call from the kitchen, "Who's ready for another one?!"

All arms shoot up in the air... even those with bowls still half full of pink, milky loveliness.

My Grannee got the recipe from my Grandad's mother who was a German raised in Russia but had lived in the states long enough to have English-speaking children. This gave rise to lots of interesting pronunciations of foods that are neither truly German nor Russian making it nearly impossible to actually look up a recipe. I have played with both languages a little bit and have decided that the name Great Grandma called them, "Strobensclays," (spelled phonetically) is most likely a mixture of English and German because the Russian translation of Strawberry Dumpling doesn't sound anything like the word she used and is definitely not appetizing. The German word is "Erdbeerekloss," which if you try to smash "strawberry" into the front of it, and say it quickly to a mob of ravenous American kids in a heavy Russian/German accent, could come out sounding like "Strobensclass..." That's what I'm thinking, anyway. Maybe it was her own secret language. Who knows?

So, all this verbosity on my family history is to say that last night I made Strawberry Dumplings for the first time in years, for the first time ever with homegrown berries, for the first time ever for my kids... so that was a pretty big deal for me.

Anna picked, trimmed and cut all the berries which was a HUGE help!

I don't have a written recipe... I just remember what I saw Grannee do and what they tasted like so I have had to cobble together my own imprecise recipe.

For the strawberry filling, I used about two pints of berries for a small batch. Just enough for dessert. When Grannee made them, these golden packets of love were most often consumed as the main evening meal and required five to six times these proportions.

So, to the berries I added about a third of a cup of sugar.

Traditionally, crackers or bread crumbs are crushed up and mixed with the berries. I'm guessing this is to make the berries go further and well, the saltiness tastes really good with the sweet berries. I didn't have enough crackers OR breadcrumbs so I just made sourdough toast and buttered it, let it cool, cut it up into small-ish chunks and set it aside.

For the dough I used a standard Betty Crocker Egg Noodle recipe:

2 cups flour
3 egg yolks
1 egg
2 tsp. salt
1/4 to 1/2 cup water

(Here is where I use a food processor)
Measure flour into bowl, add egg yolks, whole egg and salt. Process until egg mixes thoroughly into the flour. Add water one tablespoon at a time mixing thoroughly after each addition but mix only until the dough forms a ball.

Kneed a couple of turns by hand just to bring it together, check the consistency and to feel like you actually participated in making the dough, then let it rest under a dish towel for about 10 minutes.

Roll dough into a rectangle about 1/8" thick (you don't want it too thin or it will pop when you boil it) and cut into squares.

Back to the strawberries...
Mix crackers/crumbs/toast into the strawberries and place a spoonful in the center of each square of noodle dough.

Pinch the tips of squares together and seal up the edges to make little packets. Try to keep the edges as clean as you can to avoid a bad seal.

Drop the finished packets into boiling water.

Fish them out when they start to float. This takes five minutes or less.

Drain and place cooked dumpling in a bowl and drizzle with heavy cream and melted butter.
Great Grandma used to top with buttered croutons also, but I don't remember Grannee doing it very often and I prefer to put more emphasis on the berries.

Top with fresh berries or uncooked filling for color and a layer of brightness in flavor.

A very important note to make here is that, personally, Grannee thought it was a SIN to boil a fresh Oregon strawberry and while she would make dumplings for everyone else, when it came her turn to eat (after everyone else had been fed, of course) she would boil the noodle dough scraps and top them with the uncooked berry mixture... thus preserving the color and texture of the fresh berries and averting strawberry abuse.

I swear to you, these little beauties are worth every ounce of effort they take and I have never met a soul who didn't say "OH, WOW!" upon their first bite.

As for me and mine... strawberry season just isn't long enough!

Enjoy 'em while they're here, Y'all!!

More empirical evidence for the Baking Soda Solution and a word of caution

2008-11-20T10:21:00.000-08:00

Look at me! Two posts in two days! Who'd-a thunk it?

Greetings fans of natural remedies!

I just wanted to pop in for a moment and give you an update on the whole Miracle that IS Baking Soda thing.

DISCLAIMER: I'm not a doctor. Don't claim to be a doctor. Don't want to be a doctor. Read and consider the following at your own discretion and good judgment. If you need a doctor... see one!

In a nutshell. Our dear friend Sodium Bicarbonate has saved the day twice in the space of a little more than a week.

In both cases, a well-established (if not clinically diagnosed) UTI was halted in its tracks and the symptoms reversed within an hour or two by drinking a simple solution of baking soda in water. Isn't that just awesome and amazing?!!!

One of the cases was even a man. When men get UTIs they're even worse than in women. (I know, girls, that seems impossible, but it's true.) Men don't get them as often because the bacteria have so much farther to travel and ordinarily don't get far enough to cause trouble. On the occasion when the bacteria do manage to cause a ruckus, however, it's because they're nasty, mean and royally pissed from all that traffic, heat and distance. Consequently, UTIs in men are also more likely to turn into kidney infections. It's like the bacteria say, "We've come all this way, we're getting our money's worth, dang it!"

YUCK!!! Been there. HATED IT! Imagine the joy that is a UTI all wrapped up in never-ending kidney punches... FUN FUN FUN!

But I digress...

Here's where the word of caution comes in.

It is very important to be aware of what you have been and will be eating when you use baking soda as medicine. It's sodium. It's natural and non-toxic, sure, but you can still overdose on it.

In my experience, the UTI had a chance to really get going so I made the mistake of taking a rounded teaspoon in a cup of water twice, back-to-back... following a Chinese food lunch... followed by a kinda salty dinner and another teaspoon in water before bed.

The result: I woke up feeling like I had the flu. Bad headache, rummy, tired, nauseous... but no UTI symptoms. I called poison control and was informed that two tablespoons is considered an overdose, so I was halfway there even before factoring in the salty food.

It is also important to note that I was quite deydrated before the UTI even got started... which most likely greatly contributed to its onset in the first place and heightened my chances for over-sodiuming myself with the baking soda solution to boot.

Treatment: 6 to 8 oz of water every hour. It could take up to three days for the chemistry to balance out again. If I had actually overdosed, poison control would have advised I go to Emergency to have blood drawn to check for an electrolyte imbalance.

In summery: Both cases were established enough to cause a fever and extreme pain. In the fellow, it was bad enough he left work nearly in tears... when we checked on him that afternoon he was much better. He was back at work and very grateful the next day.

In my case, the discomfort from too much sodium quickly overtook the UTI issues. Those symptoms were gone before the evening was over. The sodium stuff lasted for a couple of days, though steadily lessened once I started drinking enough water.

Lessons learned:
1) Evidence continues to mount in favor of baking soda in water as a fast, effective, convenient, inexpensive, non-pharmaceutical treatment for UTIs.

2) Baking soda and water is CHEMISTRY. The food you eat is CHEMISTRY. Your body is run by CHEMISTRY. Respect the CHEMISTRY. In other words... be aware of what you're putting into your body. Period.

3) What seems to be a safer dosage for UTI treatment is 1 teaspoon in a cup of water to start followed by a half-teaspoon in a cup of water a couple of hours later if symptoms persist. Don't exceed about 2 teaspoons in a 24 hour period. Watch how you feel and don't get crazy with the stuff.

4) Drink plenty of water, but don't overdo that either. 6 to 8 oz per hour seems about right.

If only I had figured this stuff out 20 years ago! I could have a beach house in Bali for all the money I would have saved in trips to the ER and meds... not to mention trying to undo all the wreckage in the pharmaceutical aftermath.

Again. I'm trusting you people to know and listen to your body and do what's right for you. Take control of your health, but seek professional advice if you need to. I'm not a doctor and don't even play one on the internet... I'm just passing along personal experiences and observations for you to consider in conjunction with your own good judgment.

I know lots of you get to this blog because you Googled baking soda and UTI. I would love it if you would comment (anonymously is fine) and give feedback on your own experiences. We could compile a wealth of empirical evidence. How cool would that be?!

Stay healthy, Y'all!

Snapshot of a bloggers absence

2008-11-18T09:12:00.000-08:00

Yep. I've been MIA.

No, I haven't been trapped under anything heavy... except my life.

My life isn't "heavy" like a burden, there's just a LOT in it.

Like your favorite purse... it can be a lot to lug around, but you wouldn't DREAM of being without it or anything it contains!

So, since my last post of actual significance which was... hmmmm... let's see... August 16th! Agh! Shameful! Since then, a lot has transpired and I just haven't had the organization of thought to make it all presentable in a palatable manner. As a result... I am resorting to a list.

Disclaimer:
Due to the fact of linear thinking and a chaotic mind being mutually exclusive, this list is most certainly NOT in chronological order:

• On August 21st, Princess gave birth to our newest heifer: Rosalina. She's ADORABLE and is a constant source of smiles and general amusement. (No. I don't have a picture yet. BAD cow mom! I'll post one when I can get her to hold still long enough to snap a shot.) This brings our herd back up to four ladies. If Sparky doesn't throw a bull calf in February when she's due, we may have to resort to buying our beef. Yes, I know it's possible to "freeze" females... I just can't do it. I'm weird. I know. No shock there.

• We are now down to four cats. On October 24, we had to put down our oldest kitty, Houdini, aka: "Old Pet." It was difficult, but better for everyone in the long run. He was 15.

No, I won't be changing the name of the blog to Fabulous Four Cat Ranch. Lucky Seven it will remain because... well... I'm confused enough and it rolls off the tongue so nicely.

• I'm now buying our coffee beans green and (thanks to the tutelage of Lisa B.!) roasting them myself. It's fun, economical and STUPIDLY easy! I may have to do a tutorial post. If you only knew... You'd kick yourself. James has even gotten into helping out with the roasting from time to time. Purely due to his innate brilliance and good judgment he has become quite the roast master himself with virtually no help from me.

• Also, thanks to Lisa B., I am learning to make my own soap! It's so cool. She has these brilliant formulas she has devised herself and has kindly taught me how to prepare them. Chemistry is so cool! Don't be expecting a tutorial on soap making though as this is top secret, proprietary stuff and if I tell you how to do it, she'll have to kill me. If you would like to experience the loveliness and quality of Lisa's hand made soaps you can purchase them at her Etsy shop. Go there now! Christmas is coming, people!!

• Other ongoing projects: making my own pot cheese and Kombuch Tea. Both YUMMY and fun... though the whole Kombucha culture/mushroom/SCOBY thing vexes James. Yea, it's a little creepy looking while it's brewing, but it's SO GOOD and cheap to make as opposed to buying it. Example: At Whole Foods you can buy what I think is about a 12 oz bottle for around $2. I can make two gallons of the stuff for HALF THAT! Uh huh. That's what I'm sayin'.

• Since October 6th we have been making dinner for twelve every Monday and will continue to until at least the end of the year. Due to completely unfathomable and overwhelming circumstances, our Pastors' family has blossomed from four to eight... six of whom are teenagers. That's a pretty expensive endeavor on ministers' incomes, ya gotta admit. So, when the opportunity presented itself for us to contribute in the form of a dinner once a week, we jumped on it. Really, it's fun for us and such a blessing to get to do something so helpful for people who do so much for us. They are SO appreciative it makes us want to do even more. If only we could.

• We had yet another epic battle with the Tar Weed this year. Yuck! There is no magic bullet for this menace of Biblical proportions. It feels SO GOOD when we can finally mow it down in the Fall.

If anyone has advice for how to safely wipe this stuff out for good, please SPEAK UP!

• Anna got her Red Belt in Tae Kwon Do! So, yes, that does mean I travel with my own personal body guard. Don't let the sweet smile and angelic demeanor fool you...

If you're a board, she's lethal.

Lumber trembles at the sound of her name.

She has never missed a board break.

Her kihaps are a thing of fierce beauty. The stuff of legend around the dojo.

I'm glad she's on MY side!

Go, A-Bomb!!

• James had fun painting my hair for Halloween. We even thought briefly about doing something similar the next time I got my hair colored for real but wisely reasoned that much more than a week past October 31st it would cease to look cool and fun. Rather, I would take on the appearance of a soccer mom trying to pass as a rock star. Not pretty.

I stuck with the tried and true color combo and will keep my rock star fantasy safely confined to the shower.

• Under the heading of "Sometimes 'too good to be true' Really ISN'T" or: "God is totally mind-blowingly generous!" we found ourselves the fortunate recipients of a FREE SPA!!

Yes, you read correctly.

F-R-E-E

S-P-A

To make a VERY long story short... Our church owns a house that had a spa behind it that had to be removed or the insurance company wouldn't cover them.

In the weekly email mail bulletin, buried in the middle was a message that basically said, "if you want it, come get it and it's gotta be gone before the first week of November is up."

Well, as you can well imagine, we were all over that one like syrup on a pancake. We were the first to respond, thanks to the fact that I'm in front of my computer most of the day, and gave the spa a happy new home.

After investing in professional moving services (can you say 700 lbs!) and a small fortune in electrical wiring, breaker and a replaced power relay, it's up and running! Of course we had to shell out some cash to get it set up and working, but we would've had to do that even if we bought a brand new one so we're ecstatic... as are all of our parents' aching backs... :)

Gratitude? We're SOAKING IN IT!!

Well, folks, you are now officially up-to-speed on the dizzying swirl of excitement that is my blissful little life. :) Hope you're all well and happy out there in the blogosphere!

Cheers, Y'all!

TMI

2008-10-20T13:17:00.000-07:00

Six random things about me.

Blame Beth. She tagged me and I'll have guilt if I don't comply. Resisting Beth doesn't work out for me. Ever.

Here are the rules:

1.Post the rules on your blog
2.Write 6 random things about yourself
3.Tag 6 people at the end of your post
4.If you are tagged, just do it, and pass the tag along!

Here goes...

Eins. At one time I spoke nearly-fluent German. In college, I took so many Deutsch classes, it was almost my minor. As of today, I can remember slightly more than squat. Auf Deutsch? Ein Bisschen.

Zwei. I have so much to blog about my brain just may explode but so lack the prioritization skills as to even know where to start. When I think I WILL start, the mountain of clothes in the laundry room glares at me with such distain and disgust I chicken out.

Drei. I am currently forgoing coffee and wine on the weekdays (except in very specific circumstances) in an effort to 1. lose some weight. 2. prove to myself that I really DO have SOME self restraint.

Vier. I'm married to the most amazing man on the planet. Period. Anyone who knows us, all we've been through in the last 12 months, and where we are now can only emphatically nod their heads in agreeable abandon. There are some SLIGHTLY less amazing men out there, sure, but my James? He's the KING of the great men of his generation. So there. Now you know. Feel free to laud him openly.

Fünf. One reason I love this time of year is because the weather is still mostly sunny, but cold enough to have fires at night. I ADORE FIRES! Were it up to me, when it's just a little too warm for fireplace activity, I'd open all the windows in the house and build a fire anyway.

Sechs. I am the most grateful woman in the known universe. See "nummer vier" and the little beauties on the right below.

SO, that's it. All my over-tired gray matter can produce at the moment. For both of you who come here on purpose, I do hope to ACTUALLY blog again some time soon. Hi, Mom!

Now tagging:

Lisa B.
Richie
Angelina (though I seriously doubt you'll do this)
Wendy (since you've done a zillion of these things... lets say... list the six strangest things you've eaten on purpose!)

I know that's only four people, but I just don't have that many blog friends. See, you have to actually WRITE for people to want to be blog buddies with you. *sniff*

Good thing I'm not hung up on my virtual popularity! LOL!

Happy Monday, Y'all!

There is no such thing as "Original"

2008-09-20T10:54:00.001-07:00

Ninja Cat: Fun Filler For the Feline-o-phile

2008-09-17T10:45:00.000-07:00

Dude. I just shot coffee out my nose.

This is awesome.

So much to say, so little time.

2008-09-10T15:35:00.000-07:00

I have tons to write about, even one post half completed and abandoned due to too many things to bake and clean and harvest and can and step on and off of and roast and photograph and eat and now the girls are about to walk through the door in need of a snack and some face time and there goes another day of blogging because I try really hard to ignore this infernal machine once those sweet souls get home but there's just so much to report and I hope it's soon or my head just might explode from all the words building up inside my cranium in that other form of information overload!

{{gasp!!}}

Help me.

Happy Wednesday, Y'all!

Watch for the fluffy white cat...

2008-08-28T11:41:00.000-07:00

... its behavior on the treadmill and mine are eerily identical.

The Accidental Afficianado: The Sequel

2008-08-16T10:25:00.000-07:00

Alternate Title: Cat Litter Post...

wait for it...

Number TWO!

Sorry for the toilet humor. It can, at times, be somewhat unavoidable.

So. When last we checked in on the cat litter saga, I had relented and turned to the of-questionable-safety, but preferred-by-one-cat-out-of-seven option of clay in one box. The rest were filled with Feline Pine.

Well, guess what? Feline Pine got stupidly expensive for a lumber industry by-product, was still rejected by at least one cat and my success was taking a very sharp dive into... nah...

In addition to six young and healthy cats*, we also have a very old, VERY particular fellow whose cat box record is, shall we say, not spotless. For years I have blamed his inconsistency... and incontinence... on urinary tract infections. There is some accuracy to my hypothesis, but I'll get back to that in a minute.

So, our quest for the perfect cat litter was resumed, much to our dismay, in conjunction with our pursuit of a superior accident-clean-up product. We found "Anti-Icky Poo" (Yes, that is its real name. Don't blame me. I know it's stupid) and a silica-based cat litter that I now can't even find online anymore to show you.

Both products work great. Both are so maniacally overpriced that it would be cheaper to fill your cat box with actual gold nuggets.

The Anti-Icky Poo is totally worth it, though it can only work so well for so long. When the poor Old Guy is saturating the bathroom carpet before you realize what has happened... the product's efficacy is bound to suffer.

In an attempt to help the Old Guy not fall prey to the "He's FIFTEEN YEARS OLD and stinking up the bathroom! How long do you expect me to let him live?!" argument, I took him to the regular vet... three times... for UTI treatment (which they confirmed) without ANY results. I finally turned to a naturopathic vet who immediately informed me that dry food was possibly the worst thing I could feed him next to, oh, I don't know... asbestos! "It's dehydrating him by sucking up what little moisture he's getting from drinking... which, by the way... cats in the wild DON'T DO! They get all their 'water' from their prey."

What the...?

His issues had many layers...

First: He was so dehydrated that "going" was painful and had very bad associations with The Box. Not that going anywhere else was more fun, but it sure didn't make him want to squat in a pile of wood shavings... or in a bed of silica pellets either, for that matter.

Okay. I'm REALLY digressing here.

Sorry.

The silica litter worked great, but with seven cats, it doesn't last the two months touted on the bag. A couple of weeks, MAYBE so that means going through a LOT of fifteen-dollars-a-five-pound-bag litter.

Much to my very temporary glee, I found big, square buckets of something very similar at the feed store for a fraction of the price! There is a reason... the bargain product is what's left after they punch out all those nice, smooth little pellets... and it's sharp as freakin' GLASS... not kitty-pad friendly! Nor is it very nice to bare feet that stumble across the random shard in the carpet.

The packaging was also EXTREMELY WASTEFUL.

I went back to the slightly-more-economical-than-what-I-found-online version... "Litter Pearls." It does work really great. Most of our cats were fine with it... but not all.

Fabulous.

On yet another trek to the feed store I was met with a new and intriguing option in the cat litter aisle... a NEW, healthier and fantastical variety of clay litter! Can it be?

For five bucks, I can afford for it to tank.

I put it in the Old Guy's personal potty and, what do you know... HE ACTUALLY USES IT! He hated all the other litters AND was having health issues that weren't helping matters.

What happened next?

ALL THE CATS were using HIS box. They completely rejected the fancy stuff once they had access to this much better clay product.

"Wundercat," as it is so adorably named, is a combination of clays. It doesn't produce much dust at all and it REALLY does NOT STINK!

I switched the two boxes in the house to Wundercat and left the two boxes in the garage with the Litter Pearls. No one has stepped foot in the garage boxes since the Wundercat appeared. Interesting, 'eh?

The critics have spoken!

So, to finish my story about the Old Guy... He now gets mostly very high quality canned food and sometimes I make or buy raw food. He has access to the occasional bit of kibble and still prefers to drink running water from my bathroom sink. The change in his diet has made a new cat out of him. For literally years he has barely emerged from our bedroom (hence, he had his own box in our master bathroom to encourage its use.) He almost never went outside. He regularly vomited and, the older he got, often had such dry stools... well ... we'll leave it at that, shall we?

As I type, he is sitting in the other office chair with Grace. He rarely vomits except to do "maintenance" and he recently even spent an entire night outside by choice. That hasn't happened in at least ten years! He is much healthier and happier thanks to the naturopath's brilliant information. What's more... he is now so energetic that I have been able to successfully move the cat box out of our bathroom and into the laundry room with the other one. That, folks pretty much constitutes a bone fide miracle!

*As for the SEVEN in Lucky Seven Cat Ranch... I'm afraid we are now down to a Fortunate Five. Boo, our super-friendly 20-poounder, went missing a couple of months ago followed shortly by little Midna. Losing two cats in the space of a month for us is unheard of. Cats are wandersome creatures, though. I hope they mosey home from their walkabout some day.

My sister-in-law's cat returned after five months, so here's hopin'.

If they are gone for good, though, I hope it is somewhere plentiful in fat, juicy mice and "crunchable birdses."

... And miles and miles of fresh, clean, scratchable sand, of course.

That, Dear Readers (Marty!), concludes the "highly-informative post" I promised you back in June! ;)

I hope you are all enjoying this gloriously much cooler Monday!

Real post coming soon...

2008-08-15T10:32:00.000-07:00

While you're waiting for my gray matter to issue something of reasonable pertinenance, here's an awesome quote I found on the NYT humor page:

"Life is hard; it's harder if you're stupid."

— John Wayne

Truer words were never funnier, Pilgrim.

Happy Friday, People!

My new favorite B&B!

2008-07-30T13:02:00.000-07:00

Cozy!

Romantic!

Amazingly affordable!

Best of all...

...it is my very own bedroom!

There's much more updating to be done in the rest of the house, but I really wanted to pay proper tribute to James' and my Divine love affair by starting with our boudoir.

I surprised him with all the accessories, but we painted the room as a family weekend project and got it all done in a day! Go team!

Before: Like, yuck, man.

During: For your next home improvement project, I highly recommend child labor! They have a ball, work for potato chips and soda, and have no idea your totally exploiting them! Now that's what I call a "win/win!"

Ahhhhh... it's just so nice to have an actual grown-up's bedroom and not a storage room with a bed in it.

These little beads dangling off the burgundy *velvet* valance are so sweet,
they just make me tingly all over...

So TRUE!! The picture really doesn't do it justice. Rats.

I absolutely adore walking into our bedroom to the aroma of freshly cut roses and herbs! So rejuvenating and inspiring, I think.

For a couple hundred dollars and a little effort, I'm so pleased with the way it turned out. No, it'll never make it into Portland Spaces Magazine, but I could afford it and it just feels so much better. I absolutely love the way this room looks at night... especially from the outside.

I once walked up the path that runs in front of our house and peeked in the window to see this inviting nest aglow in soft candle light. I thought to myself, "Wow, that looks like a really lovely place to stay... I would love to spend the night here with my Honey... Hey! I can and will every single night of my life. Sweet!"

Slowly but surely, I'm living my dream. I am so blessed!

Folks, it's like the tag line on this blog says... "There is no place *but* home."

Make yours beautiful and inviting to you.

Up next: Operation Master Bath!!

For the men in my life... and my mom.

2008-07-30T09:25:00.000-07:00

Although they were kinda makin' fun of him on the New York Times humor page, I can think of at least six men in my family who will think this guy and his contraption are super cool! I know I do. Who does this remind you of, Gentlemen?

Here's to old guys who will find a way to stay productive and follow their passion no matter how many years have accumulated under their belt.

Rock on, Del!

Sharing with the locals

2008-07-29T13:18:00.001-07:00

The girls and I got a beautiful surprise this morning when a fawn hopped the fence and began voraciously chowing down on our radishes!

Normally, this is not the sort of behavior I would encourage in the local wildlife, but she was so lovely and bold... looking us straight in the eye as we ogled her from my office window... I couldn't bring myself to shoo her off.

Our radishes far outnumber our opportunities to interact so closely with one of my favorites of all God's creatures. Deer also seem to mark special times in our family.

The last time I saw a deer on our property was my most recent birthday.

The previous sighting in our yard was four years ago on the morning of Anna's sixth birthday when a family of THREE, including a two-point buck (!), waltzed across our grass to our muffled squeals of approval and delight.

Something very cool just may happen today... and if all that turns out to be is the exceedingly rare glimpse of a fawn in our very own garden... that's more than enough for me!

Happy Tuesday, Deer Readers! :)

This could be me!

2008-07-25T08:21:00.000-07:00

Well, except for the receding hair line and the fancy downtown office, but otherwise...

Enjoy this momentary glimpse into what my job can feel like sometimes. This is sheer brilliance!

Dude.

2008-07-13T17:10:00.000-07:00

"The One?"

Sounds like an awful lot of responsibility to me...

How about "The Really Enthusiastic Alternate" instead?

Can I still have the cool trench coat, shades and mad bullet evasion skills, though? OOO! and The Jiu Jitsu! I want that too!

Which Action Hero Would You Be? v. 2.0
created with QuizFarm.com

You scored as Neo, the "One"

Neo is the computer hacker-turned-Messiah of the Matrix. He leads a small group of human rebels against the technology that controls them. Neo doubts his ability to lead but doesn't want to disappoint his friends. His goal is for a world where all men know the Truth and are free from the bonds of the Matrix.

Neo, the "One"

71%

Maximus

67%

William Wallace

67%

The Terminator

63%

James Bond, Agent 007

58%

Captain Jack Sparrow

54%

El Zorro

50%

Indiana Jones

46%

Lara Croft

42%

Batman, the Dark Knight

33%

The Amazing Spider-Man

33%

Orange water and Triskaphobia

2008-07-02T10:29:00.000-07:00

We got our water back one week ago... however, it still runs orange. It's the rusty minerals in that good ol' Dundee Appellation soil that make the Pinot Noir so gosh darned good, don' cha know!

I'm still twitchy about washing anything white lest I end up with a lovely array of quasi-tie-died garments in varying shades of burnt umber.

Amid all the water woes came the dishwasher debacle. Dishes in the front half of the machine retain a revolting residue of co-mingled food particles and oily remnants.... mmmm... YUMMY!

The issue was, of course not, as we had hoped, the replacement of the twirly thingy that shoots water around in the top of the machine which we found resting conspicuously out of place on the heating element... that leaves the motor as the culprit.

Interpretation: motors are so spendy, we may as well buy a whole new dishwasher.

As unexpected breakdowns of major appliances/utilities/vehicles tend to arrive in packs of three... I am rapidly developing a paranoia of unusual noises, smells and/or vibrations from any and all major moving and/or vitally important machines in my service.

So, now that you have the most recent update from L7CR, I am off to back up the Macs and stare suspiciously at my truck.

I'm craving doing laundry...???

2008-06-25T11:54:00.000-07:00

Photo courtesy of Flickr... though this could be a scene at my house right now.

That is what happens when one is without a reliable water source for three+ days.

We lost water on Sunday morning and have yet to get it back in earnest. We got a new water pump installed and had a day of about half normal pressure. The water pump was not the source of the problem. Thankfully while we had at least a dribble, my brilliant husband thought to fill one of our bath tubs to ensure water for toilet flushing(!) and minimal hand washing. However, as the issue required more investigation and repair we currently have no running water at all.

It is very interesting the things one is forced to consider upon deprivation of precious H20.

For example:

• What am I touching? I can't just wash my hands "willy nilly."

• What do I feed people? The fewer utensils, plates and clean-up the better.

• How much clean underwear do we all have... or lack?

• How does one fill two 60 gallon water troughs with no running water?

• Ever contemplated watering a 40 x 20 garden full of tender, tiny sprouts with a watering can and swimming pool water?

• How does one get ready for work in a dignified office setting when you can't shower? This I can tell you involves a bucket, an empty bathtub and very cold and speedy hygienic practices... Poor James!

These are just a few of the thoughts that have rattled across my brain pan in the past 36 hours.

How do I feel right now?

Thirsty. We have plenty of bottled water, but somehow knowing there's not water in the faucet makes me feel parched.

Dirty. I am very deliberately not exerting enough energy to get all "dewy" as I already feel like every molecule of dust floating maliciously in the air is preternaturally attracted to my skin and fully aware of my inability to bathe conveniently.

But mostly it's a lot like I'm camping in a *really* nice motor home in one of those spaces without the water and sewer hookups... and the bathroom/shower hut is a half mile hike away on the other side of the camp ground.

I hear there is a plumber working up the hill at my in-laws' house connecting by-passing pipes as we speak. The broken pipe, it seems, lurks beneath a concrete slab so re-routing the flow of the life-sustaining liquid is far more practical, and preferable, to ripping up a ton of driveway to fix the leak directly.

God bless the family members willing to dig for hours to expose the pipes and a plumber/friend willing to massage his schedule to make our problem a priority. We would be in dire straights... and stinky for much, MUCH longer... without their generous help!

Whenever we lose water or power I am always forced to think of those living in countries where utilities are intermittent at best or even non-existent. I don't think I take the luxury and privilege of reliable infrastructure for granted until I spend even an afternoon without... and then I feel very guilty for not appreciating them much more than I actually do.

In this particular shortage, I have noticed myself very aware and possessive of half-consumed glasses and bottles of water I spot laying around the house. Suddenly, I see them as opportunities to wash my hands or rinse off a spoon. Maybe give a plant a drink. I am afraid free water has made us more wasteful in its abundance.

I have never really thought, *really* thought about what a luxury it is just to have the opportunity to have a clean body and clothes. Right now, after a shower, all I want is to run my dishwasher and do about six loads of laundry. I can't imagine living permanently in conditions where you can't even count on a safe glass of water to drink, let alone access to enough to wash anything.

It makes it difficult to feel too sorry for myself when I think of our dilemma on a global scale. I mean, if I got desperate for some form cleanliness I could go for a swim in my inlaws' pool. Not so for all those dust-encrusted African kids we see on the big screen TV broadcast in high-def digital cable...

Somehow, when I think about it in those terms I don't feel nearly so inconvenienced and a whole lot more grateful that my "plight" will last a total of a few days and gave me an opportunity to begin to really appreciate how fortunate we are to live where and when we do.

It's the *little things* Y'all... Seriously.

When I say "Baking Soda Works Miracles," it's not a rhetorical statement

2008-06-18T14:29:00.001-07:00

Yes, you're seeing correctly. It is a TWELVE POUND bag of Baking Soda.

This post is especially for the Ladies. The only reason I say that is because it deals with an affliction from which, to date, only one male I know of personally has ever suffered. (And that, I'm SURE was karma!)

I am speaking of the dreaded and much-loathed Urinary Tract Infection (UTI) also known less accurately but far more conversationally as the "Bladder Infection."

People, there are few things on this earth that make a girl hate being a girl with more fury and gnashing of teeth than this bacterial menace. To add to the *enjoyment* you can rest assured that the vast majority of the time, said loveliness will usually chose, say Saturday morning at about 1:45 to present itself so as to make sure you are just miserable enough as to render you unable to wait for your regular doctor's office to open Monday morning to seek treatment... And the local ER's cash register *Ka-CHINGS!* with satisfaction.

Seriously. The last three times I've had one of these curses of gal-dom, I have had to fork over a $100 co-pay... only to be billed $160-and-change more from the ER after insurance! For which, by the way I am EXTREMELY grateful because just to walk into the ER in Lincoln City, tell them what was happening with me, get my blood pressure taken, pee in a cup, wait in a room under a pre-warmed blanket, tell the doc three times that yes, Pyridium DOES, in fact, contain red food dye... "what do you think makes your urine orange???" and therefore yes it WILL make me vomit, yes, I'm allergic to sulfa drugs and Cipro makes me sick as a dog, at which news he looks at me accusingly like I'm telling him all this just to challenge his medical knowledge and spouts at me with disgust, "Well, I'm running out of things to give you so you're going to have to take something or just take your chances until maybe this thing kills you!"

"Can you just give me some Macrobid and let me be on my way, please...?"

"Um, okay... $816 please!"

Can you imagine what it would have cost me if I needed, oh, I don't know, for them to actually figure out what was wrong with me? What if I had needed a stitch or something?! Ka-CHING!!

But, I digress...

So. Fast forward to Monday evening.

The unmistakable sensations begin and I'm thinking how grateful I am that at least it's not Saturday, but it is too late to call the doctor at the moment. I'm going to have to try some home triage until morning.

My mom happens to call and I tell her what's up and she says "Oh, I read the coolest thing about Alka Seltzer and UTIs! I can't remember exactly what it was, but, you know..."

Well, I don't own any Alka Seltzer, but I do have... you guessed it... Baking Soda!

What is Alka Seltzer but fizzy baking soda in a tablet?

I have nothing to lose at this point so I decide to improvise. I took a rounded teaspoon of Baking Soda and dissolved it into about 10oz of water. I drank it down as quickly as I could, *YUCK* and followed it with most of another glass of clear water. Of course, the burping erupted immediately... followed by some nausea, but that passed pretty quickly. An hour later, I began to notice some other, um, plumbing activity. It seemed I was purging a lot more than just urinary bacteria, but it wasn't like when that happens when you're sick. There wasn't any cramping, just an urgent need to "go!"

By bedtime, I felt mostly fine, but still made an appointment with the doc's office the next morning so as to not get another "ER Surprise" over the weekend. They couldn't get me in until Wednesday.

Tuesday, I felt fine all day but decided to do the baking soda and water thing again that evening, just for good measure. No extra "plumbing" action this time.

This morning, I kept my appointment with the doctor.

Guess what? For the FIRST TIME EVER my UTI test came back NEGATIVE!!!

The doctor walked into the exam room, results in hand, with her mouth hanging open in disbelief! There was not a TRACE of bacteria. Believe me, and gals who have experienced a UTI more than twice can attest... once you start down that road, there is NO question what those specific symptoms mean and they do NOT get better by thinking happy thoughts and waiting it out.

I'm not a doctor. I can't (legally) say the baking soda thing cured my UTI. All I can say is, somehow between Monday evening and this morning, with pretty much just baking soda and a whole bunch of water in between, the UTI was rendered completely undetectable... and the doctor was amazed enough to make a big deal about it.

I'm not sayin', I'm just sayin'...

Baking soda: takes the stains out of your sink, deodorizes your fridge, cleans your teeth, and apparently your urinary tract... and the list goes on, and on and on...

Now THAT's what I call versatile!

Baking Soda and Water Cocktails all around! Woo Hoo!

Party on, Y'all!

While you're waiting...

2008-06-09T15:53:00.001-07:00

I thought I would take this opportunity to introduce you to my favorite new small kitchen appliance... the Cuisinart electric ice cream maker!!

This thing is PERFECTION!

It doesn't require ice so it's not very messy.

It isn't self-refrigerating so it's not an electricity hog, nor is it insanely expensive.

It is super easy to clean with only three parts that are simple to hand wash.

It makes ice cream in about 30 minutes once you assemble the ingredients!!

I LOVE THIS MACHINE!!

I have already made simple vanilla and a vanilla bean ice cream that requires making custard first but is phenomenal! In a recent outburst of brazen culinary self confidence and ingenuity I even made a dairy-free chocolate ice cream with coconut milk that was so good I may never eat regular chocolate ice cream again!

I once had an ice cream freezer attachment for my old (smaller) KitchenAid mixer and it was very disappointing. All the cold escaped from the sides and top and the results were mediocre at best. This machine has the freezer bowl completely surrounded and insulated so it stays really cold. I throw a towel over the plastic top to help retain what little escapes there but the freezy part stays super cold through the whole process. It remains so supremely chilled in fact that I've had the water I'm washing it out with freeze!

For $50 at Costco... WELL worth the investment! Of course if you get this little beauty, homemade ice cream becomes so easy and fun that you might find yourself in need of another investment... a gym membership.

Willpower to the people, Y'all!

Peas, out!

Stay Tuned!

2008-06-09T15:43:00.000-07:00

There is a very important, highly-informative post brewing.

All I need is more folded laundry, more visible floor space and less visible dust and it's all yours!

Come back soon!

A Late, Late Mother's Day Report

2008-05-23T13:06:00.001-07:00

Yes, Angelina, I will be keeping the hat. We've had adventures together and now I can't bear to part with it. I knew you would especially appreciate a picture of me wearing it in a boat... drinking wine and eating chocolate... and, yes, even fishing... poorly.

Last Saturday, my wonderful family took me out to Camp Tilikum for a belated Mother's Day outing. Since *The* Mother's Day was spent honoring *our* moms, I was more than happy to wait for my day.

James did an excellent job of planning the whole thing and keeping it a secret from me. I *never* get to be surprised... being the mom and generally pretty observant, it's nearly impossible to keep me from figuring out what's going on, even when I don't want to know.

I had an idea of what he had in store for me, but nothing definite and certainly didn't know any details... and I loved it!

He packed a bag full of loveliness including wine, cheeses, bread, soda, water, ham and, of course, chocolate which we ate in a canoe while fishing in the lake! Well, Anna actually fished. I did my very best impression of a person who has been fishing maybe once in her life and slashed at the air with my pole while the fished mocked me openly.

Anna caught five fish.

All I had to show for my efforts was a lopsided sunburn on my right arm.

She was in her glory!

It was an amazing outing that was immediately followed by a trip to the Cameo to see Prince Caspian and dinner. A better day I cannot imagine. Very well worth the wait.

Thank you so much, my Darlings. I am so very Blessed.

Cows fly

2008-05-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

Two weeks ago I put an ad in the local paper and didn't get a single call so I really didn't have too great a hope of generating any interest in Bossy and Daisy on Craig's List, but I thought, "What the hell. It's free, right?"

I got the first hit at 9:45 this morning.

By 10:30 they were sold.

Wow!

The really cool thing about the buyer... He wants them for dairy stock!

That makes me very happy.

So long, Bossy and Daisy. I'll miss you terribly, but I'm oh, so glad you're going to what sounds like a very green pasture.

Pssssst... wanna buy a cow?

2008-05-16T13:24:00.001-07:00

Or, more accurately, a cow and her darling calf.

Yes, folks. It causes me great pain to say this, but Bossy and Daisy must go.

We have maxed out our grazing capacity and need to move a couple of my girls on to other pastures. I originally wanted to keep Daisy and let Sparky go, but in a demonstration of my TRUE LOVE for this little beauty, I am choosing what is best for her over my own selfish desires. *sniff* *sniff*

It will be much less traumatic for them... well... and me too, really, I suppose... if we sell the pair together so...

Who wants to start their own herd?!

Common folks! I know there's a frustrated dairy farmer out there among you!

Seriously! The calf is ready to ween. You could have your very own fresh milk twice a day... from your own backyard!

Here's the sitch:

Bossy is 3 years old, Herford, Holstein and Angus. She's a great mom.

Daisy is 3 months old, all of the above breeds plus black Semental.

We'll let the pair go for $985.

Any takers?

Common, Angelina! Now's your chance to commune with your favorite bovine on a daily basis! Just think of the endless supply of prime fertilizer!

Okay. Sales pitch over.

Operators are standing by...

Friday afternoon amusement

2008-05-16T12:50:00.000-07:00

Been wondering what to do with all your old vinyl LPs?

I guess if you can't play the disk, your last resort is to play with the cover.

You can check out more of 'em at sleeveface.com.

Happy Friday, Y'all!

A study in green

2008-05-14T09:28:00.001-07:00

Welcome! Welcome! O tender, sweet and crunchy Spring!

O, the succulent, green shoots and pale, infant blossoms so laden with the promise of luscious Summer fruit!

Even my heart is salivating.

Sick and Wrong

2008-05-12T16:03:00.001-07:00

I thought the Vosges Bacon chocolate bar was "pushing the envelope" but still within the quirky confines of "acceptable."

This, um, well... I think the envelope just exploded.

For those of you for whom bacon is it's very own food group... and you know who you are... you can find this, er... bold confection at Marini's in Santa Cruz...

Or save yourself the airfare and just fry up your favorite nitrite-laden porcine product and dip it in a molten slurry of salvaged, half-eaten Easter candy.

Now if you'll excuse me, having merely looked at that picture, I must go squeegee my arteries.

Peas-out, Y'all.

The Magnificents

2008-05-10T13:51:00.000-07:00

For those of you interested in tales of our amazing, big, fat adventure with God, you can check it out at our new blog!

Sadly, since one can't rearrange posts, you'll need to scroll all the way down to start at the beginning, or click the link at the top of the side bar.

It's okay of you come by just to gawk... we know we're Freaks... but that doesn't change how cool it all is.

Peace, Y'all!

Rich women in hats

2008-05-07T15:55:00.001-07:00

No, that doesn't exactly describe (in dollars, anyway) the two of us that you see here, but we sure were surrounded by 'em.

My dear friend, Julie whom also happens to be my rep at Portland Monthly Magazine honored me with an invitation to "Hats Off To The Hill:" a benefit for OHSU Women's Health Center. Held at the Portland Art Museum, this event raises money for free tests and services for women without health care benefits. The proceeds usually end up serving between two and three hundred women and save many lives in the course of a year.

Anyhoo, I'm not a name-dropper or anything so I won't tell you who sat on the other side of me, or who was at the table next to ours, or who opened the donating "auction." Let's just say, even I knew who they were and, being the complete hick that I am, I don't know anybody!

Ok, ok. I was this far away from Arlene Schnitzer's cute little self, but that's all I'm sayin'.

It was really fun and a great cause to get to support, even if it was just with my presence. They opened the donating at $25 Grand... um, kinda steep for my checkbook at the moment.

Also, a big "Thanks, Girlfriend!" goes out to Angelina for providing my stylish chapeau! I may never take it off.

Thanks for the fun afternoon in the Big City, Jules!

Happy Cinco de Mayo!

2008-05-05T11:22:00.000-07:00

Which also means, Happy Anniversary Kelly and Laura! And thanks for making it so danged easy to remember. Smart thinkin'!

Lots more to post once I finally catch up from all the things I need to blog about!

In the mean time, enjoy the cheesy goodness of the above snippet of a under-appreciated classic.

Nachos anyone?!

Adios, Y'all!

One more good reason to AVOID PACKAGED FOODS!

2008-04-29T08:23:00.000-07:00

Photo found on Flickr

Here's another gem for the "Sneaky Blue Food" category that came in my nearly-daily Mercola newsletter this morning.

Is this ever a Hot Button for me. Read on and protect yourselves dear Friends...

If you pick up a can of soup and find that the sodium levels are lower than you expected, or that a food item advertises it has “less sugar” or “no MSG” ... then there may be cause for alarm.

A relatively young company, Senomyx, may be responsible for the sodium and sugar levels falling in various grocery store items. They may be putting chemicals into your food right now, without telling you and without you even realizing. Under the law, they don’t have to.

Senomyx has contracted with Kraft, Nestle, Coca Cola, and Campbell Soup to put a chemical in foods that masks bitter flavors by turning off bitter flavor receptors on your tongue. The companies can then reduce sugar and sodium levels by approximately half without affecting the flavor.

All of the companies declined to identify which foods and beverages the chemical additives have been or will be added to. These chemical compounds are not required to be listed separately on food labels; they are grouped into the general category of "artificial flavors."

Senomyx was able to obtain FDA approval and a “generally recognized as safe” classification from the Flavor and Extract Manufacturers Association in less than a year and a half, based on a safety study of rats conducted for just 3 months.

Food items that are most likely to contain these new chemicals include soups, juices (fruit and vegetable), ice cream and sauces.
"We are helping companies clean up their labels," said Kent Snyder, chief executive of Senomyx.

Mark Zoller, Senomyx's chief scientist, says that his company has used the human genome sequence and identified hundreds of taste receptors. Senomyx's chemical compounds enhance those receptors to heighten the taste of salt or sugar. Under this premise, they go on to claim that their newly added chemicals are completely safe because they will be used in tiny quantities of less than one part per million whereas artificial sweeteners are used in 200-500 parts per million. This fact alone allows them to forgo the rigorous FDA approval process when introducing new food additives into the marketplace. Attaining the status of GRAS (generally recognized as safe) from the Flavor and Extract Manufacturers Association for their most advanced product that replaces MSG, took this fledgling company less than an 18 month time frame by introducing a safety study of rats conducted for 3 months.

Executive Director of the Center for Science in the Public Interest, Michael Jacobson, commended Senomyx's strides to reduce MSG, salt, and sugar but warned against introducing a new chemical additive into the food supply without strenuous testing. "A three-month study is completely inadequate," he said. "What you want is at least a two-year study on several species of animals."

After pouring a total of 30 million dollars into research and development, the companies that have invested into Senomyx's products have been secretive, to say the least, about their involvement within the company. Some, like Kraft, have declined to divulge any specifics regarding their relationship with Senomyx but instead stated that Kraft was committed "to reducing the sugar and salt levels in many products."

Nestle and Coca Cola declined to comment. I think silence says it all.

References:

(http://www.senomyx.com/collaborations/)

(http://www.corpwatch.org/article.php?id=12053)

((http://www.nytimes.com/2005/04/06/busin...)

((http://www.mindfully.org/GE/2005/Senomy...)

((http://www.ucsf.edu/synapse/content/200...)

The Mac Geek Ruminates

2008-04-28T08:31:00.001-07:00

Make no mistake. I have a great Mac setup. In fact, for what I do, it's about as sweet as it gets. But when something as gorgeous and powerful as the new iMac comes along, I *must* sit up and take notice.

Here's a snippet of the specs:
"The updated all-in-one iMac introduced today offers the latest Intel Core 2 Duo processors and the most powerful graphics ever available in an iMac. The ultimate all-in-one desktop computer includes faster processors with 6MB L2 cache, a faster 1066 MHz front-side bus across the entire line, and 2GB of memory standard in most models. And the 24-inch iMac now offers a 3.06 GHz Intel processor and the high-performance NVIDIA GeForce 8800 GS graphics as options. Available immediately, the new iMac starts at just $1,199."

I swear, Apple simply cannot be topped for making a machine that is as tempting to the eye as it is intuitive and robust.

I recently read an article in Wired magazine about the "Evil Genius" that is Steve Jobs. It talked about how he doesn't follow any of Silicon Valley's "Rules" of "Employee-Pampering Corporate Culture." He regularly blows up at people... "but he's usually right." There is absolutely NO autonomy given to anyone and every single product must cross his desk before it is deemed worthy for Mac Snobs everywhere...

I don't think I would enjoy working for him, but I more than appreciate what his uppity attitude, perfectionist standards and charismatic personality (and the talented people who endure him) have achieved for the products that make my job not only possible, but absolutely enjoyable.

As a creative, the elegant physical design as well as the intuitive and visually appealing interface just make my brain at once settle down and get fired up. It's all just so beautiful to look at that it makes me want to sit and bask in the finely-tune ingenuity of it all.

I have but one question...

2008-04-26T11:42:00.000-07:00

... I have *seven* cats. What does that make me?

You're right. I don't want to know.

Please note: it's not like I reside in a studio apartment with my feline throng... I live on acreage, People. This fact should be taken into account when forming your judgment as to the degree and severity of my psychoses...

Kitty People, enjoy the vid'!

Rx for thought...

2008-04-25T13:15:00.000-07:00

I just gave our very old cat his antibiotic liquid and was intrigued by the fact that it is BANANA flavored... and not just banana... really BAD banana.*

For a cat.

Is it just me or does it seem for more logical that medicine intended for a feline should be flavored like, oh I don't know, field mouse or maybe even tuna fish?

Banana.

Who's idea was that?

*The reason I know what it tastes like is because I had to mix it up from powder and in breathing in a little of the powder, I got a hit of the very strong and disgusting flavor.

Beer... Me... Yes.

2008-04-24T17:59:00.001-07:00

Try though I might, I have never been able to like beer. I WANT to like it, but that particular acquisition of taste has perpetually eluded me.

Hefeweizen has always been the closest thing to an enjoyable beer I have encountered, except for perhaps McMenamins Ruby Ale... a lovely, sweet and *girly* raspberry brew, but one can only get Ruby at McMenamins' fine establishments. *sigh*

While I may like a few sips of Hefeweizen, I could never be counted on to down a whole bottle.

I appreciate completely the culinary merits of certain food pairings. In fact, I can never eat pizza without *wanting* a beer to go with it but have never been able to complete the transaction.

This is me trying to enjoy some Widmer Hefeweizen at
Zippy's Pizza in Yamhill. Photographic proof that beer will NOT make you more attractive unless someone ELSE is drinking it... what a train wreck!

On Wednesday night we made fajitas for dinner and, like pizza, fajitas SCREAM to be served with beer. James cracked open a Pyramid Hefeweizen he had bought to try and gave me a sip...

Oh. My. Goodness.

Creamy.

Rich.

Silky smooth...

No bitterness.

No aftertaste.

Just a mouthful of unfiltered loveliness that begged me to have another.

The taste of it was unlike anything I had tried before.

I couldn't get those fajitas made fast enough.

I raced to the table and enjoyed every single sip and bite. Completely astonished at this miraculous new development.

I finished off both fajitas and the entire bottle of malted goodness... then I took a nap.

Cheryle, Angelina, and others of you who have known and experienced my beer-averse frustration, I hope this day I have made you proud.

Cheers, Y'all and Happy Friday!

I know what you're thinking...

2008-04-24T09:53:00.000-07:00

Your Superpower Should Be Mind Reading

(This little foray into randomness inspired by Beth.)

You are brilliant, insightful, and intuitive.

You understand people better than they would like to be understood.

Highly sensitive, you are good at putting together seemingly irrelevant details.

You figure out what's going on before anyone knows that anything is going on!

Why you would be a good superhero: You don't care what people think, and you'd do whatever needed to be done

Your biggest problem as a superhero: Feeling even more isolated than you do now

What Should Your Superpower Be?

A Moment for the Queen

2008-04-22T08:48:00.000-07:00

Two years ago today she ran back into Grandad's arms... and I can still feel them celebrating.

Here's to Queen Esther and her King George, to whom I owe so much.

I miss you both terribly, but know you are never far from me and continue to influence my life in profound and tangible ways.

I am so grateful to have been born to such Royalty.

Thank you for everything.

Confessions of a weak, WEAK woman

2008-04-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

I have mentioned in past posts how I can resist candy and junk food all day long, but when it comes to baked goods I am rendered helpless.

Well, yesterday, my random act of kindness backfired and has come back to bite me square in the fanny... literally.

I decided James needed a treat so I called around Mac to find someplace that would deliver cookies to his office. I managed to find a florist who knows of a place that makes the best frosted cookies ever and can deliver them before lunch! Everything is working out perfectly so far. He feels all warm and fuzzy AND he'll gain weight and I WON'T! (insert maniacal laugh track here.)

The cookies arrive, he calls and thanks me profusely, to which my natural reaction is to ask, "So, how are they? What are the like?"

This is where the trouble starts.

"Oh, they're GREAT! They're the size of a DESSERT PLATE and SLATHERED IN FROSTING!!! They're SOFT and CHEWY and CRISPY on the edges and ONE just about put me OVER THE EDGE so I decided to share them with the office."

To which my dainty reply was, "DUDE!! You had better bring some home to me if you ever want me to send you cookies again!!"

And so he did.

Damn... er... bless him.

He brought home two. More perfect examples of superior bakery issue I have never seen.

I was entranced. The textures. The flavors. The quintessential pairing with ice-cold milk so fresh it was mooing that morning... NIRVANA!

I am powerless in the face of such forces.

I

ate

one

whole

cookie

on

the

spot.

So then I said to myself, "the only thing as good as the cold milk combo would be that of said ambrosia with, say, the perfect cup of coffee... and mere hours prior I just happened to procure nearly a pound of Organic Sumatra Gayo Mountain roasted only yesterday!

But, wait! I should save that cookie for the girls...

...though they don't even know it's there so they won't miss it..."

Oh, how the battle raged. But I did manage to get some sleep.

This morning, James brought me my coffee in bed. Wow! This new level of service is unprecedented and he better be careful with such indulgent behavior because I spoil faster than shellfish in July.

So, I go padding out to the kitchen, coffee in hand and what jumps out at me from behind the wine rack? Why, that dastardly cookie, of course!

After roughly .85 seconds of grappling, it was bisected and half was meandering blissfully down my esophagus, awash in cream-laden java. Ahhhhhh.

That... was... PERFECTION! But that's IT!

I have recently lost very nearly 30 pounds. Though involuntary and not a program I would recommend, still, I needed to be rid of the weight and plan to TRY to keep it off with exercise now that my appetite has returned, much to my chagrin.

Afternoon arrived, and along with it, lunchtime.

I had a pretty reasonable meal... half of a leftover chicken breast, rice and broccoli. Yippee for me!

As I'm taking my plate to the kitchen a quick whiff of freshly roasted coffee teases my right nostril.

I steel myself against it and press on to the sink.

I remind myself that the very complicated coffee maker would need to be completely dismantled, cleaned out and reassembled to make ONE STINKING CUP OF COFFEE only to have to repeat the whole process once again for the morning brew.

Way too much trouble for a single cup of afternoon joe.

Then, I turn to walk across the kitchen and my eyes fall on the other half of the morning's transgression... and my mind darts nimbly to FRENCH PRESS!!

One cup of coffee is a cinch in a plunger pot and if I get that blasted second half of cookie out of my life then I can move on and get back to focusing on carrot sticks and Yoga... Right?

Ok. I'm done.

It's gone.

I'm safe now.

When will that florist call me back and tell me where I can get MORE?!!! I can't stop thinking about THAT DAMNED COOKIE!!

Ahem.

Ok. I'm off to the kitchen to get more carrots. Yoga starts in four hours and fifteen minutes and I have some serious karmic reparations to make.

Ohm... There is no cookie... Ohm... There is no cookie... Ohm... There is no cookie...

Directive of the day

2008-04-15T09:50:00.000-07:00

Do some unexpected kindness for someone close to you... or anyone, really.

Random acts of kindness and spontaneous expressions of love are never a waste of time and always make me feel even better than the person for whom I do them. It's the best antidote I know for my own bad attitude or personal funk.

I'm a total junkie for the response... and am horrible at keeping surprises... so, yea, it's totally a selfish thing for me to make someone else happy. I think it's a good kind of selfish, though. :)

Get out there and pay it forward, Y'all!

God spoke to me through Thai food.

2008-04-10T13:08:00.001-07:00

It's important to recognize when the fortune cookie is smarter than you are.

The wisdom delivered here hit me right between the eyes. It goes far beyond exposing the recklessness of deception. It's also a reminder I can't put anything over on God.

I have finally *really* figured out that I can't show God a particular side of me. He sees the WHOLE of me... "warts and all" as they say. What's more He LOVES the whole of me and doesn't hold my warts against me. He isn't even repulsed by the great big booger hanging off my nose. All He sees is the being that He created me to be.

Beautiful. Radiant. Flawless.

That doesn't mean anyone else sees me that way, or needs to, or that I think I'm perfect because God sees me that way. It REALLY doesn't mean that He thinks I don't need any improvement or correction. God has been correcting my ass off in recent months. What it means is that I don't need to be self-conscious, because I'm good enough, just the way I am, for anyone... even me.

Which brings me to the other truth that this fortune cookie revealed to me...

I can't outwit myself, either.

No matter what persona I project or how I wrestle parts of myself back in fear that people will be uncomfortable with me at "full strength," or perhaps they'll realize just what a doofus and fraud I really am, the "real me" is still there. Who I am lurks just below the surface clambering to be seen and heard in more than just regulated, censored cameo appearances... because that is the person God created me to be.

I can't change it any more than I can change the color of my eyes or the length of my legs.

I don't need to fear negative reactions because I say what I really feel. Someone just might be thinking the exact same thing. And if they don't agree, they are certainly entitled to feel differently. It doesn't mean I'm stupid, or wrong, or bad. We simply don't agree. It's not a crime or a sin to disagree.

The greatest disservice I can do those around me, especially those I love, is to withhold my honesty in a vain attempt to "protect" them somehow and display only what I think others deserve, or expect, or can handle from me. That's not to say that I need to be brutal or cruel. Just real. To say the truth and then work through their response with love and respect. That is the only way to have a firm footing.

To build a relationship while being who I *think* I'm supposed to be and expressing only what I imagine my loved ones want to hear is to live on a constantly eroding slope that will inevitably continue to fail and lack true stability until the bedrock is finally exposed.

What greater expression of Love for my family and friends could I offer than to allow the person God made me to be finally beam at full candle-power in stead of a feeble attempt at acceptable fashioned by my own floundering, myopic humanness? To quote Ani DiFranco, "I'm 32 Flavors and then some..." My family deserves them all... not just the ones I *think* they like.

How will they know they like pistachio unless I give them a chance to try it?

Mint Chocolate Chip?

Licorice, anyone?

What better gift and show of respect for my Creator than to quit camouflaging His design?

I'm done being afraid of who I am.

I'm pretty much done with fear in general. Fear is the opposite of Love.

I'm ready to Live Out Loud.

I'm ready to break free of self-imposed twilight.

At last, I am ready to shine... and maybe even sing.

Nothing like a little Pad Ginger with a good friend for lunch and a smack upside the head from God for dessert, eh?

What the Hail!

2008-03-30T17:39:00.004-07:00

Torrential Spring hail storm + trampoline = crazy frigid fun!

The deluge was accompanied by booming thunder and wicked-close lightening that had us all stupefied for about thirty minutes.

Take one very impressive display by the Big Guy, add some Chinese takeout and you've got a great Spring Break capper.

Have a great week getting back into "The Routine," Y'all!

A Book of Love

2008-03-15T10:59:00.000-07:00

When my Granddad passed away 12 years ago, Grannee was more than devastated.

These two were the world's greatest lovers and had been honeymooning for more than 64 years. Suddenly, he was gone. Literally, her OTHER HALF was ripped from her and she felt helpless, hopeless and beyond alone.

She immediately moved in with my mom and step-dad where she was extremely well cared for, but nothing, of course, could take the place of her Dear George. Who could even try?

She even refused to sleep in a full sized bed because it felt too big without him spooned up behind her.

Now, Grannee and I have always had a very special and unique relationship that I cherish to this day. I am her namesake. Her "Dolly," as she used to call me. Gran and I related on a level that I can't explain and won't dare to try. When she lost her Love, all I wanted was to make the pain and loneliness stop, but realistically, who could? All I could do was remind her how much I loved her and all she was to me. She was such a profound influence on my life but I couldn't always be there at her side to remind her. I had a life of my own to attend to and knew that as time passed, it would get harder and harder for her to remember all the things I told her in our precious stolen moments together so... I decided to write her a book. A book of love that she could turn to whenever she needed to remember.

Grannee passed away on April 21st of 2006; just two weeks shy of the 10 year anniversary of when Granddad left us. Ten years without the love of her life she had spent over half a century doing life with. Wow. I can't even begin to imagine how hard that was for her.

At her memorial service, the minister read passages from my book as examples of the effect she had on me and every other person with whom she ever came in contact. (Not to mention what being around them as a couple would do to people! They were absolutely amazing... anyway) He approached me after the service and said I should publish the book. That it would mean a lot to people... at the very least, for my family.

It struck me as rather funny since it is such an intensely personal document. Who else would care about my relationship with Gran?

Well, I never got it "published" to print, but after nearly two years of sitting on it, I decided that maybe here was a good place to put it out to the world.

It's long. 37 pages even, so be forewarned. If you choose to tackle this undertaking, you will be peering into some of the most intimate thoughts and feelings I have shared with one of the single most important people to my very existence. But it is the product of so much unconditional love and encouragement that it doesn't even begin to scratch the surface of all she was to and did for me and who I have become... and continue to become.

So, with that said, I present for your perusal, "A Book Of Love."

Click on each image to see it at full, actually readable, size.

A Sophisticated Discussion on Art

2008-03-15T09:27:00.000-07:00

Thank you to *richiedesign* for posting this most informative and inspiring discussion on the Nature of Art.

Kudos to Aardman Studios for producing it. Brilliant! Best thing they've offered us since Wallace and Gromit.

Enjoy.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm off to don a beret, squint with intensity while holding a cigarette that will never touch my lips and make coffee rings on the surface of my very cluttered desk.

I shall call my masterpiece: Fuel for the Frustration

Adieu, Dahhhhlings...

Random Tidbits

2008-03-03T11:58:00.000-08:00

Not that I need someone to get sick to make soup, but it is somehow more rewarding when a little girl with a sore throat requests it specifically. Poor Anna. Then, her dad was so insistent that said soup should be accompanied by warm, homemade bread he volunteered to help me make it all... DEAL! (You will NEVER catch me refusing help in the kitchen.)

Thanks to the culinary support, we were able to crank out some beautiful chicken soup which was fortified with the mashed potatoes and gravy from the previous night's roast chicken dinner. The gravy makes it sooooooo rich. YUM!!!

Also, I managed to make bread that didn't break my KitchenAid. So there's that. I didn't let it bake quite long enough though (it SMELLED done) so it's on the doughy side, but hey, the fam' loved it. Besides, what kid doesn't love doughy bread... look at Wonderbread's squeeze-it-and-it reverts-back-into-a-ball-of-dough popularity!

We even accomplished all this wonderfulness in record time... From cold, empty pots at 2:45 to hot soup-and-bready goodness at 6:30. Woo Hoo!

On a completely unrelated note... I also want to give a quick shout out to Bethany, Anna and Grace's beloved former piano teacher who came out from Utah for her baby shower last weekend. It was such a joy to spend time with her. Though certainly not the most satisfying visit, since we had to share her with, what, 25 or so other gals who were also excited to see her pregnant self, it is always glorious just to bask in her sweetness and light... even from across a crowded room.

Her tiny tummy belies the fact that her darling bundle is due at the end of next month and all moms-to-be should exude such grace and peace as she.

Bethany, I miss you so much and will be praying hard that Seth lands one of those Portland positions so we can get you back in the neighborhood. It would be so lovely to have time together just to visit and enjoy each other's company without you rushing off to your next student.

I can't wait to meet Baby Tippin whenever he or she arrives! (Go May 1!) I know you and Seth will be outstanding parents.

Peace, Y'all.

Richie Does It Again!

2008-02-25T09:38:00.000-08:00

Miss Richie never ceases to amaze me with her talent and style. You really must go see her stunning digital letter press work. Just look at these Marc Jacobs spectators! WANT THEM!

She even did the illustrations. Wow!

Also, for you gals out there, she has been asked to consult for a therapy group for teenage girls on "loving your body" and self image. She is asking for examples of times in our teens when we felt good about ourselves to help her put together ideas and suggestions for girls who are there now. What a great project. I so wish there had been something like that available when I was feeling ugly and inferior.

If you have time and have something to share that might be helpful, just hop on over to *richiedesign*, scroll down to the entry before the LUSCIOUS letter press work and leave a comment.

Go Richie!

This was not a paid endorsement.

Happy Monday, Y'all!

Seven Weird Things

2008-02-21T15:26:00.000-08:00

Lisa over at The Tardy Homemaker tagged me to expose Seven Weird Things about yours truly.

Now, there are way more than seven, I'm sure, but being that the rest are not weird to me I am unaware of their existence. I am including the things that are odd enough to me that I think other people would find them pretty darned weird. There are a couple of things I know most people would find really weird, but I'm not willing to share those things with the world at large so you'll just have to guess what they might be.

And now for the list fit for public consumption:

1. I would be totally fine if I never ate fish again. I only eat fish when I make it for other people and politely eat it when other people cook it. I do however, love shrimp and lobster...

2. ... I am allergic to shellfish. (Yea, it totally bums me out.)

3. My brain instantly imprints voices. If I hear a voice once on the phone I will immediately recognize it the next time that person calls and upon hearing said voice, will have all the pertinent information about that person drop into my head like opening a personnel file. Once I hear a voice, it's in my brain forever. It's not such a big deal now that I work for myself and don't come in contact with scads of people but when I was a receptionist in an advertising agency for example, my employers found it extremely helpful for heightened phone call screening abilities. It's also likely one reason why I never got promoted from the phone even though I was doing design and production work.

4. We raise cows and drink raw milk but I don't milk our cows. It's too much of a commitment to the animal and way too much work for me. It's so much nicer to drive to Yamhill, have a nice chat with Chrissie at Kookoolan Farms and pick up jars of beautiful, clean milk without having to squat 'neath a cow twice a day... EVERY... SINGLE... DAY.

5. I love tomatoes (only in season and preferably home grown), I like ketchup and tomato sauce, but I cannot stand tomato juice. It grosses me out.

6. I have eaten and throughly enjoyed wild musk ox. In fact, I have kind of an odd desire to try as many different kinds of game meats as I can. I love elk!

7. I never realized how claustrophobic I am until I was spelunking (yes, it's a real word and no, it's not dirty) a lava tube in eastern Oregon with a large group of family and friends. The cave started out big enough, like a cathedral in some spots, but it got smaller and smaller. When we were maybe 50 feet from the end it narrowed down to about three or four feet in diameter. I couldn't do it. I tried to make myself go just for the experience of touching the end of a lava tube but, heart pounding out of my chest, I broke into a cold sweat and started shaking uncontrollably. I chose instead to stay there, alone, in complete darkness. No flashlight. That was far preferable to me to getting stuck , unable to go forward or back and trapping all those people I loved inside the cave and suffocating on stale, dusty air hundreds of feet down in the bowls of the earth never again to see the sweet, clear light of day. ::trying not to hyperventilate at the mere thought!!::

Fortunately, my wonderful not-yet-husband stayed there with me in the crushing blackness until the others returned with the lights.

So there you have it. Seven more things about me to file under "proof that girl is freakin' whacked." And, as these things work, I am to pass along the pleasure to some other blog friends. I'm tagging Richie, Wendy and Cheryle.

Okay, girls, dazzle me!

Peace, Y'all.

Another One Biteth the Dutht

2008-02-17T15:18:00.001-08:00

Grathe would like me to inform you all that she lotht her thecond front tooth.

She'th very proud of herthelf.

Thankth a lot and have a thuper Thunday!

Thianara, Y'all!

Confessions of a Scatterbrain

2008-02-16T14:00:00.001-08:00

Have you ever seen toes in more dire need of a pedicure?

This is the same polish I painstakingly applied on a luscious, leisurely afternoon... Christmas Day...

It would take me literally about five minutes to drag out the nail polish remover and at least have clean toes in place of scruffy remnants of "I'm Really Not A Waitress" red, which would be an improvement, right? But I feel almost naked without polish on my toes and I can't seem to bring myself to part with the red until I have time to properly apply a fresh coat... and that would take, what, probably fifteen or even TWENTY minutes! That's an eternity! Right?

It seems like the smallest tasks go undone because I "just don't have time for that right now." Or "I'll get to it later because it will only take a minute" then whatever it is never happens because it was such a minuscule job I never made it a priority. In the worst cases, I may end up paying late fees or rushing around to make a deadline (not with my work, mind you) and spending more time or money than I would have if I had taken those five minutes right off the bat.

I am the world's worst at keeping baby books up to date... especially since Grace arrived... FIVE and a half years ago! At this point I'll be lucky to remember anything pertinent to record in it and get it done prior to giving it to her as a wedding present.

I have piles and stacks of pictures to go into albums all stuffed into the credenza in our entry hall just waiting for my attention.

When it comes to kid birthday parties, I am a total flop. My sister-in-law, Dawn, is the world's most intimidating party planner. She makes kid parties so fun and exciting adults crash 'em. I, on the other hand, am doing well if I remember the occasion far enough in advance to actually MAIL invitations rather than calling everyone a day or two before and make up a totally bogus theme on the spot. "Yes, this year she's having a take-and-bake pizza themed party! Come dressed as your favorite topping!"

I'm so lame.

I have 32 pounds of honey in a bucket in my kitchen waiting to go into smaller, more manageable containers. It's been there since early January.

Sometimes it's just because I forget.

Other times, I start to do something and get distracted by something else that needs doing or "Oooooooo, look! Something shiny!"

I have to write a shopping list even if all I'm picking up is apples, cheese and Valium. Once I get inside the store, my memory is toast.

I'm trying to improve, though. Trying to turn over a new TREE.

I'm just trying.

Ask my husband.

My big accomplishment this week was getting Anna and Grace's school pictures in their frames on the mantle. The pictures I've had since, oh, I don't know... NOVEMBER...

Yea, me.

Ya gotta celebrate the little victories, Y'all.

No... WAY!!!

2008-02-15T07:56:00.000-08:00

Way.

Oh... MAN! What I wouldn't give to go to this concert.

Even IF I could talk the hubby into paying probably 50 bucks a head and driving all the way to Washington for a concert, though... this one just so happens to land squarely on Anna's 10th birthday... and we WON'T be missing that.

*sigh*

Ahhh, Sting. So close and yet so far...

Guess I'll just have to go crank "Nothing Like the Sun" and the rest of my Sting and Police CDs and engage my very fertile imagination.

D' Doo Doo Doo, D' Da Da Da, Y'all.

Make your mouth happy

2008-02-08T08:58:00.000-08:00

As many of you know, I don't use commercial toothpaste, but make my own sea salt and baking soda concoction. I've never published the recipe, but rather just included a link to one in a previous post. Well, that link is dead now (sorry Lisa) so, for those who have expressed interest, what follows is the highly-complicated recipe for making your own tooth powder, sans all the unnecessary chemicals, artificial colors and, for some of us, mood-altering CRAP that has no good reason to be anywhere near your mouth:

Clean and Simple Tooth Powder

Find yourself a nice little jar that makes you happy just to look at it at least twice a day. (In the absence of The Perfect Jar however, a zip lock baggie will do just fine.)

Inside your chosen vessel place:

3 Tablespoons Baking Soda

1 Tablespoon Sea Salt (Table salt is poison. Use good, organic sea salt.)

Stir thoroughly.

You're done.

Just get your tooth brush a little damp, dip it into the powder, knock off the excess and you're good to go!

If you desire a mintier experience, you can add a few drops of peppermint oil to the powder and stir it in well. If you do this, you'll want to keep the lid firmly on the jar so the peppermint oil doesn't evaporate and leave you with plain ol' salt and soda, once again.

Do this favor for your teeth and your whole body will thank you!

Happy Brushing, Y'all!

Waiting for the cow to pop

2008-02-07T15:14:00.001-08:00

This is one of those post-counseling, one-foot-in-front-of-the-other, the-bread-goes-inside-the-bag kind of days... you know... just enough motivation to get out of my jammies and straight into sweat pants. Screw the make up. I have managed to feign just a little productivity, though, so I've got that going for me. Well, that and a great (long) phone call with Miss Wendy... Thanks, Love! You so totally rock! ;)

Now, on to the NEWS at hand...

Bossy the Beautiful Bovine is due to have her next calf on or about Wednesday the 13th! She looks like she's about to pop any second based on her, um, symptoms... I swear, her udder is so full it makes my breasts hurt just remembering what it feels like when your body is getting ready to be the sole source of food for a growing little body... GAH! Been there, DONE WITH that...

Her last calf had a very sad ending and we are so ready for a healthy, bouncy little black and white baby. I'm glad to see Bossy looks like she's ready and able to welcome her fuzzy little bundle of joy. Ahhhh... babies...

Still, though, better her than ME!

I'm very contented with the fact that my babies are old enough to reach the bunny crackers and juice boxes on their own without the need for me to excrete anything from my person, thank you very much. :)

Stay tuned for pics and play-by-play upon the bouncing baby bovine's arrival!

Peace in the pasture, Y'all.

Why I watch the Super Bowl

2008-02-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

I'm sure it won't come as a showck when I say that I watch the Super Bowl for two reasons:

1) To see if any of the advertisers can come up with anything that remotely impresses me for their paltry $2.6 MILLION per 30 second spot.

2) My sister-in-law, Betsy's, layer dip and Fritos. It is a guilty pleasure I reserve for very special occasions. I may hate myself later but, YUM!

Okay. So there were a f-e-w spots that got my attention, kinda, but most were pretty dismal. Though, I must say the CareerBuilder.com ads were disturbingly memorable in their graphic depiction of hopelessness and futility... I liked them in a creepy/cool kinda way.

My favorites, however, I display below:

The E*Trade Baby made the whole extravaganza for me. The ads were so good, in fact, there's already a parody, which follows.

An honorable mention, as a sentimental favorite... the Coke balloon ad. I DO NOT endorse using Coke products, or any other High-Fructose-Corn-Syrup-Laden Swill sold as soda, but CHARLIE BROWN FINALLY WINS!! And for that, I post this commercial.

Coca Cola Super BOwl Commercial: Parade Balloon

Oh, and the ad for AMP energy drink with the sweaty fat guy that jumps a car "the hard way"...
::shivver:: I'm still queezy after that one.

I understand the game was pretty good, too. Underdog win and all. All hail the Lesser Manning Brother!

Peace, Y'all!

It's So Cold Grace Chattered Her Tooth Right Out!

2008-01-30T10:44:00.001-08:00

The snow pictures are from Monday though it has been super cold with various combinations of precipitation off and on ever since.

One can only do so much in the area of snow man construction within the window of a two-hour school delay.

After weeks of barely letting anyone LOOK at her tooth, let alone actually try to PULL it, said chomper finally just leaped to freedom as we were leaving the Wilco store yesterday. Thankfully, Grace caught the slippery little sucker in her hands and didn't swallow it.

Grace has been to school ONCE so far this week. A two hour delay means "No School" when you're in half-day kindergarten. She has been having a lot of difficulty going to school lately anyway. We're still trying to get to the bottom of her not wanting to go, but the snow days have made my life easier, at least temporarily, in not having to endure the struggle.

This morning she came to get into bed with me, saw the snow outside and said, "Is there no school today?" To which I replied, "Well, for you there isn't. Do you know why?"

... get ready for this one, folks...

"Because God loves me and wants me to be at home so he made it snow..."

... you know... she's right. She has been needing some extra time with mommy and she's had two unexpected days of it this week and she won't be behind in class.

God is taking care of her.

God is taking care of all of us.

Peace, Ya'll.

I was born a grown-up.

2008-01-27T12:43:00.000-08:00

It's Sunday *morning and to say I have been X-Treme Multitasking would be a gross understatement.

I have been working, listening to some amazing worship music and contemplating where I actually am emotionally/mentally/spiritually, compared to where I thought I was and...

... how...

... I ...

... got ...

... H E R E.

Actually, I've spent the last couple of days pondering the last topic almost constantly.

Disclaimer: By now, you will likely have guessed that this will not be the usual lighthearted "Angeleen" post. I'm going deeper folks and if you'd rather read about premium cat litter and life with cows than watching me plumb the depths of my surprisingly complicated emotional interior, you might want to check back in a post or two.

This isn't the venue for getting too explicit about why I dropped off the planet for a while there, so I will only say that it involved some pretty heavy, life-altering events and choices that have caused me to take a very long look at how I got to the place where those events could occur. I am going to start counseling soon to make my best effort at getting to the bottom of these issues, start healing, stop the cycle of pain and hopefully spare my girls a similar legacy.

They will get to have a childhood full of innocence and security.

I was never a kid.

This is not a new concept in my observations of my self, rather I have a new awareness of the long-term impact of the unaddressed fact.

I was introduced to the quagmire of adult situations and traumas and vocabulary and conflicts and heartaches and pain... all of it... by the age of three.

It was kinda like being fed the Fruit of the Tree of What Grown-Ups Know and Wish They Didn't served on a graham cracker and washed down with the innate knowledge I had no power whatsoever to escape any of it.

By the time I was about 12, for all practical purposes, I was fully indoctrinated... the only vestige of childhood that remained was the inability to control my own surroundings. EDIT:**My mom was on her second divorce, and would enter into her third doomed marriage within EDIT: a year and a half. My focus was taking care of her. With regard to my needs and desires and goals, I just wanted to be as little trouble as possible, make her happy and to be one thing she didn't have to worry about. One thing about her life that wasn't complicated. EDIT:***My brother and I were really good kids... I didn't get complicated until much later.

I wasn't adventurous.

I wasn't rebellious.

I didn't drink or use drugs and tried to be a good influence on my friends who did.

I wasn't mouthy or belligerent.

And, though I discovered *boys* waaaaay too young, I wasn't what you could remotely call promiscuous or in any way reckless.

I was never disrespectful.

I was always upbeat and smiling and dishing out hugs to people, even when, at times, I was living a nightmare at home...

I got reasonably good grades, was well-thought-of by my teachers and had a small group of very good friends.

I was, and am, a survivor.

By the time I hit 17 I had *memorized* The Unillustrated Guide to the Troubled World of Adults without ever cracking Intro to Adolescence or How to be a Proper Teenager.

.........

All this is to preface my most newly-formed hypothesis on one element of the contributing factors of recent events. Here it is:

Our lives are supposed to happen in a very specific sequence. Each phase builds off of the one before it, must be taken in order (duh) and is set aside for us to make mistakes/take actions/engage in events that are appropriate to that age and time with correspondingly appropriate risks and life lessons.

If you skip ahead and miss those lessons, you will still have to get them somewhere down the road. Even if it's many, many years down that road.

One of the lessons you learn as a teenager is that being reckless and disrespectful is distructive and effects everyone around you. Only, for the well-brought-up teenager, there is less at risk, for the most part, of far-reaching and profound damage. You also have the benefit of being able to blame your transgressions on being young and inexperienced and you have plenty of life ahead of you to redeem yourself.

When you're 40... It's a whole different story. When you trip, there are legions of souls who fall with you. There are no reasons that fully satisfy the pain-filled questions. There are no answers or explanations that lead to spontaneous healing and enlightenment... and there are children involved whom you risk thrusting into that exact place in which you found yourself all those years ago.

The anguish and remorse take on fully-fledged, grown-up-sized magnitude and the whole weight of just how much work there lies ahead crushes your chest and makes breathing feel like a luxury. Sleep is a futile endeavor without properly medicating far enough in advance. Eating? Nearly impossible.

But, where there is enough Love, there is Hope. With Love, miracles can and will happen. I have been blessed with people in my life that Love me more than I ever imagined possible or deserve. Even when they shouldn't want to, they Love me and that helps me keep loving myself. My husband is the most obvious and best example of people who continue to show me this kind of Love, but by far, not the only one.

It's God's love shining through them that gives me Hope. Hope that all this pain and revelation is part of God's plan to make me the person He meant for me to be when he put me in my mom's belly.

There are so many things I still need to discover about myself, healing to be done, deficits to be filled in order for that person to live and breathe and be a blessing to others. But, in the Long Run, the exquisite agony of these latent growing pains will be worth it because they are baby steps toward becoming the person He meant for me to be. I could run away and just be contented to stay damaged and incomplete because it would be easier in the short-term, but what a waste. With superhuman effort, patience and Love, in the fullness of time, His perfect plan will come to fruition and on the other side of this experience I'll know what he really intended my life to look like. Yes, I have Hope.

I don't know what Shelly The Counselor will think of my theory of my skipped adolescence, but I'm pretty sure I'll be one client that gives her a lot to chew on... or perhaps baldness and premature aging...

I'll keep you posted as to my progress and her wrinkling.

Peace Y'all

*clearly not morning any more.

**It is very important to note that I do NOT blame my mom for my "issues." I never have. She did the best she could in her own set of circumstances. She had her own set of baggage and always, ALWAYS TRIED to do what she thought was best for us, sacrificed for and loved us without limits. I am merely relaying the facts of my early life and don't intend to place "blame."

***Due in no small part to the unceasing prayers of our amazing grandparents who provided a haven of stability and accountability in our lives... and STILL do... even after their passing.

Thought for the day

2008-01-23T09:11:00.000-08:00

Here's a very potent quote nicked from my friend Richie's blog.

"Society often forgives the criminal, it never forgives the dreamer." -Oscar Wilde

'nuff said.

NYT Mac ad link...

2008-01-20T12:43:00.000-08:00

For those of you who didn't make it to the New York Times online home page in time to see the BRILLIANT ad I gushed over in my 1/17/08 post...

Click on the picture or here :)

I do what I can in the interest of Mac Snob Public Service...

Stripped Down and Sophisticated

2008-01-20T08:58:00.000-08:00

Remember how fascinated we all where when the California Raisins introduced us to Stop Motion Animation?

Well, it was out there before in a clunky, unrefined form, but Wil Vinton took it to a whole new level and made us aware of what we were looking at. Made it cool.

I found this video on the New York Times humor page and just sat there agape. This is not over-produced, CGI, let's-see-how-much-eye-candy-we-can-generate, cutting-edge techno-flash.

So jaded am I by what technology makes possible that I am seldom impressed when I watch any heavily CGIed piece of animation or live action. I've seen the man behind the curtain and know that my eye can easily be tricked by legions of talented, young professionals locked away for uncountable hours performing unimaginable feats of programming acrobatics.

This piece, however, is so refreshing for me to watch. So simple and pristinely executed... its spartan elegance and the effort and time AWAY from a computer it took to produce made me say, "WOW!"

It takes a great deal to make me say, "WOW!" ...about anything.

glumbert - Stop Motion Battle

This is a total breath of fresh air.

Enjoy!

Mac Advertising Brilliance Reaches New Heights

2008-01-17T12:55:00.000-08:00

I don't know how long this is going to run so go take a look at this FREAKIN' AWESOME Ad for Leopard on New York Times web site RIGHT NOW!

UPDATE:
That ad only ran for one day so here it is on ValleyWag.

It's not just funny... watch as "PC" climbs behind the frame of the web site! GAH!!!

I'm SUCH a geek, but that kind of stuff just totally blows my skirt up. I'm sorry.

LOVE IT!

Once again, Apple has renewed my devotion to complete Mac Snobbery.

Signs of life

2008-01-16T15:34:00.000-08:00

This should not be construed as an actual blog entry. This is me sending up a flare.

I want to let the four of you know, well, judging by Sitemeter I think there are about 17 intrepid souls who visit here regularly, that I'm okay... again... and that I will actually write something of substance in the near future.

Honest!

Right now I am catching my breath and catching up on neglected and new work, not to mention new commitments I have made to my family... like...

Turning OFF the damned computer after 5:00! "Please, step AWAY from the MAC!" ...and Oh, now that I'm not online or working, maybe I could have dinner ready sometime before 9:00!

Um, yea. Mom's got kind of "problem" with the internet and distraction in general. Specific boundaries can be helpful when dealing with the Obsessive Compulsive. :)

I will resume writing about the things I think are important to share with you like how to take care of your body, tools for avoiding foods and chemicals that contribute to ill mental and physical health, foods that heal... not to mention expounding on things like my favorite cat litter, adventures in bovine artificial insemination and the importance of 600+ thread count sheets... I just have to get my work done first, 'cause, you know... I won't be doing any blogging in the evening.

I love reading your comments and even though I haven't been good at commenting, I have been keeping up on your blogs, too... Hi Elora and Wendy and Lisa and Angelina and Cheryle! I look forward to getting back into the bloggie loop again.

Thanks everyone for caring enough to wonder where I've been and actually letting me know you miss the random craziness that spills fourth from my brain into this space.

Keep looking. I'm not ever REALLY gone... just quite busy keeping up with my very important jobs. :)

Peace, Ya'll

Proof I am not, in fact, dead

2007-12-22T07:25:00.000-08:00

Obligatory Christmas Tree Shot from Progressive Dinner

Contrary to popular speculation, I have NOT shrugged off my mortal coil to leave you all desperately scrambling for a new source of comparative analyses of cat litter and rambling missives on cow culture.

I'll just say this. Thank you to all who have been concerned for my well-being and I'll let you know as soon as this monumental bout of latent-onset ADD has subsided.

In the mean time, here is a little movie of Anna being awarded her Blue Belt in Tae Kwon Do from last night. YOU ROCK, ANNA!!!

That's all I have for now. So, in case I don't have another lucid moment until the New Year is upon us... Merry Christmas, Yall!

It doesn't take much

2007-12-01T10:05:00.000-08:00

Around here, snow is so infrequent and short-lived we swing into high gear at the first hint of a flake. We'll be lucky if we get a half inch, down here in the balmy lower reaches of Chehalem Valley, but we'll enjoy it like there's a foot of the stuff.

Despite the less-than-profuse amounts of fluffy precipitation, it is still cold enough that water troughs freeze over and the cows are disinclined to graze on the frigid pasture grass.

This December scene...

... is the reason...

... for this stifling, dusty, hot one back in August.

The cats also have a lot of fun figuring out all these crazy white feathers that vanish as soon as they hit one's wet nose... little bits of disappearing cold, white bird?

I am forced to wonder if Boo thinks his chances of actually catching something have skyrocketed due to this brief instance of environment for which he is, at last, suitably camouflaged. Ordinarily, his 20+ pounds of glowing whiteness makes him so conspicuous as to preclude any chance of sneaking up on anything with even the most feeble sense of sight. Were it not for the cat food dispenser, and my constant refilling of it, he would surely starve.

As I'm finishing this post, the snow has been replaced by fat, chunky rain and blustering wind. We're battening down the hatches and drawing precautionary water reserves in anticipation of the impending storm.

I'm soooo happy I had the opportunity yesterday to get out to the store... and to my raw milk place... and, most importantly, THE COFFEE ROASTER!

Weekend housebound caffeine withdrawal...? ::shudder::

Instead, we'll be enjoying the final Harry Potter book by a blazing fire with no need of anything from the outside world beyond weather reports to know how long our blissful seclusion will last.

Except for my imminent treks out to feed my pasture prima donnas, who will undoubtedly find sideways rain as undesirable dining conditions as gently falling snow, the rest of the weekend should prove rich in much-needed, decompressive coziness.

I hope yours is equally rejuvenating.

Peace, Y'all!

A Quick Gulp of Air

2007-11-30T11:26:00.000-08:00

Anna's Madarin Monkey sculpture.

Doesn't have anything to do with this post, I just like it.

No, I haven't died or fallen off the planet.

Life is just big, here on the Ranch. Really big.

Thus, the neglected blog.

I have stories to tell, but they will have to wait until I find a worthy vessel, or the tide turns benevolent and gently deposits me on the warm, sandy shore of "the usual chaos."

Until then, I've donned my snorkel and am vigilantly scanning the horizon for any encouraging sign of terra firma.

Since it is ME we're talking about, however, a "dingy" would be probably be the most appropriate form of rescue.

Peace, Ya'll.

The Bling's The Thing

2007-11-20T09:52:00.000-08:00

I tried an experiment over the weekend and it worked beautifully!

As you know, I'm big on trying out non-toxic ways to clean stuff.

Among my faves are baking soda, vinegar and hydrogen peroxide.

Well, let me just tell you that when it comes to cleaning all the gunk and bread-flour-turned-to-glue out of every nook and cranny, hydrogen peroxide is amazing!

I tossed, um, gently placed my rings and James's into a small bowl of HO2 and kinda forgot about them for a couple of hours. When I finally remembered and dug them back out again, I was astonished! I expected them to be cleaner, but MAN! They looked brand new and were sparkling before I even got them all rinsed off and polished up.

You know what I discovered?

There are actual DIAMONDS in these rings! Whoa...

Now, if you'll excuse me I must get back to geekin' out over the *Panther OS I just installed on my MacPro. (Do you smell another rave post coming...?)

Cheers, Y'all!

*EDIT: Make that LEOPARD!! I'm such a dork. What's with Apple and all the cat names... the cats... THE CATS!!!! TOO... MANY... CATSSS!!!!

For Grammar Geeks Only

2007-11-15T09:54:00.000-08:00

From the NY Times online...

Joke of the Day:

It's not who you know; it's whom you know.

What I've Learned From Our Cows...

2007-11-13T12:28:00.000-08:00

... so far.

I get the impression they really enjoy "teaching me a lesson" whenever they get the chance.

#1. Over-Grazing is BAD: And I don’t just mean stuffing yourself on appetizers to the point of excruciating pain. It is what happens when good people are forced to do bad things with cows… like having too many of them in too small of a pasture for just long enough that they totally mow down every edible blade of grass that competes with the weeds that aren’t. Among other infestations, it can lead to… and don’t even get me started on... the scourge that IS, Tar Weed.

#2 Tailgating can kill you: Never walk behind a cow or calf closer than about eight feet. One sharp noise or rude comment about their weight and you’ll be waking up, flat on your back in cow poo wondering how to spell “Fractured Sternum.”

#3. Avoid butt-heads: A full-grown cow’s head weighs, I’m guessing, about 60 pounds all by itself. When attached to an irritated bovine, in addition to housing all that pent-up angst and resentment for being treated like some kind of common farm animal, it can also, when swung properly, act as a very effective human catapult capable of slinging the average 150-pound individual roughly six to eight feet. I have personal experience to back up this assertion, in case you’re skeptical about my authority on the subject.

#4. Beware of sticky situations: Cow poo is the lesser-known forerunner of Velcro®. Just try to get it off your boots.

#5. Watch your step: No matter how much room they have. No matter how many times I muck out the barn to keep it a pleasant, healthy place for them to sleep and eat. Every… single… day… somebody leaves a “pie” RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THE DOOR WAY. I have come to believe this is their idea of a joke. ha. ha. ha. See lesson #4.

#6. Don't let yourself be intimidated: Staring down 600 pound animals on a daily basis takes a certain amount of panache... or at least it does when you're a chick who has only been living closely with cows for about three years. Any large animal vet can tell you that cows are prey animals and they know it. All you have to do is act like you're bigger than them, they believe it and that leaves you pretty much in control.

Right.

I use a combination of a firm tone of voice, sharp movements and bribery to get them to make me think they're submitting to my will. I don't even feel the need to carry a baseball bat when I get anywhere near them anymore so I think I've made brilliant progress... I am, however, not above leaping to relative safety over a stall gate with the grace and agility of a drunken hippo should my projection of confidence and superiority prove unconvincing.

Truth is, I love the big hairy dears. I think they can sense that and choose to let me feel like I'm in charge... at least as long as I keep making with the cow candy and sweet talk...

That's all the barnyard wisdom I have to impart for now.

Until Bossy, Princess and the Girls school me further... Ciao, Yall!

I almost spit coffee out my nose.

2007-11-10T09:53:00.000-08:00

Some things are just *naturally* funny... juvenile, perhaps, but really, really funny nonetheless. Make sure all liquids are at a safe distance and enjoy.

Happy Friday!

2007-11-09T13:42:00.001-08:00

It's okay if you need to smirk... you can even chuckle if you want!

Personally, they make me laugh right out loud... but then, I live with them.

Shameless Filler

2007-11-08T10:53:00.000-08:00

Joke of the Day

A guy walks into a bar with a priest, a minister, a rabbi, a Polish guy, and a duck. The bartender says, "What is this, a joke?"

— Joke told to Esquire.com by the "Nip/Tuck" actress Joely Richardson.

Walking In Your Footsteps...

2007-11-04T11:26:00.002-08:00

...and trying not to trip in your very big shoes.

I would never dream of flattering myself by believing I could ever take my Grandmother's place in this world since her departure from it. However, since she left us about a year and a half ago, there are certain things that I feel compelled to do, have strong feelings about or have experienced that have the very distinctive "Esther Rueck" brand upon them. I sense her presence in a very tangible way when I do these things. It feels very right and like a natural progression for me to attempt to emulate her in their practice. As though the "torch has been passed." (This feeling is not diminished by the fact that I am her namesake, Esther being my middle name.)

Aside from when I'm brushing my teeth, a time when I am most aware of her is when I bake bread. Gran and I had sooo very many conversations about baking, but we never really got to do it together when I was old enough to actually know a little about what I was doing. We did lots of theorizing and comparing notes verbally though. So now since her departure, it doesn't matter what kind of bread I'm making, she's there with me.

That being said, you might imagine how much it meant to me when, upon pulling the new coffee maker my folks gave us from its box, I noticed an old yellow recipe card laying face down in the bottom of it. Since the box had never been opened, for a split second I thought Grannee had been up to her tricks again and miraculously dropped it in there for me to find... Upon an excited call to my mom, however, I learned that she had been startled to discover Grannee's Rye Bread recipe in an old canister she was about to give away... *gasp!* that was close! ... and had wedged it under the lid of the box as a surprise.

She may as well have sent me a Portkey* to my Grannee's kitchen. I was giddy with excitement, but wanted to wait until I could give my full attention and focused intention on making this special, magical recipe for which my Grandmother was renowned. It was like no other bread you could get anywhere. Grandad always said it was better than cake... and he was right.

This bread was something much more than the sum of its ingredients. For her, it was a meditation. A profound demonstration of love for her family and guests... and you could taste it. We begged for this bread. No one ever felt the least bit gypped if they got it for Christmas in stead of some *thing*.

Everything that left her hands was completely imbued with love and intention. To both of my Grandparents, if anything was worth doing it was worth doing well and she had refined this basic human nourishment and item of sacrament to an art form... and the rest of us have never been able to duplicate it to her level of mastery.

It was her own special kind of magic.

This time, when I set out to make my attempt at Her Rye Bread, it wasn't with a recipe dictated over the phone and written in distracted haste, but with her very own card. Written in her own elegant hand. There are no instructions, just measurements of ingredients, temperature and cooking time. This card served only to jog her memory of the details of a process she could do in her sleep... and often did once she became too frail to wrangle heavy, awkward dough.

When she wrote this recipe down, her penmanship was still pristine, not ravaged by age and weariness. She was vibrant and brimming with passion, generosity and grace. I could feel her vivacity resonate as I carefully held this precious artifact as I read it, intense thoughts of her washing over me as I assembled the ingredients. I felt her standing right next to me and she was as excited as I was that we were *finally* getting to bake together. I couldn't stop myself from smiling and even let a little laugh escape my lips at how much fun we were having, the two of us.

As I prepared the dough, I could hear in my head little comments she had made to me over the years about how the dough should look or the fact that it's pretty sticky. I made only the tiniest adjustments based on my particular circumstances. Alterations with which I felt she would agree. Though there is no way I would ever make notations on the recipe card. I'll keep those notes in my head for now.

I was so excited to give my little family a taste of Grannee's Rye Bread and every aspect of what that means. Yes, it's amazing in flavor and texture, very nutritious and its aroma is what I think Heaven must smell like, but mostly what I want them to taste is my intention, my meditation of love and the same blessing that Grannee put into everything she fed us.

The bread I made doesn't taste *exactly* like Grannee's but it's very, very close. I have only my hands, pans and slightly different ingredients to work with so, I guess it's becoming My Rye Bread now... but I will always bake it (and enjoy that first, warm heal) with Grannee.

* For you non-Harry Potter readers: a Portkey is an enchanted object, often a piece of supposedly worthless junk, which when touched will transport a person to a preprogrammed location.

"Crack" for Voyeuristic Graphic Designers

2007-11-02T14:06:00.000-07:00

I feel dirty and exhilarated all at the same time.

I have just discovered Coudal Partners' Layer Tennis.

Layer 9

It's really kinda hard to get your head around if you're not a designer... and even if you are... but thanks to the I-can't-even-believe-how-lucky-I-am-to-be-alive-in-this-technological-age wonder that is Adobe/The Internet/Blogging/Freakin' Genius... there exists this ongoing weekly, live competition where two designers in different parts of the world exchange layers of a design document, this time in Illustrator. You can click through the volleys at the right side under the header.

One designs something for 15 minutes, then shoots it over to the other who then takes the design and works on it for another 15 minutes and so on for ten volleys.

The whole thing is commentated on, like a sports play by play, by another blogger... this time Heather Armstrong from dooce. You see the whole thing come together, layer by layer, comment by comment.

Watching that much talent slinging back and forth while Heather commentates... Ahhhhhh! It's just... well... GAH!!! I can't even describe how euphoric it is.

Like the best graphic design class you ever had moderated by one of your funniest, most irreverent friends.

Okay, I gotta go check back at their progress... they're on layer NINE!! Yikes!!

What's Next, Cat Juggling?!

2007-11-02T08:35:00.000-07:00

Wondrous Gift From Above or Evil Implement of Kitty Terror?

The nights have gotten quite nippy of late here on the Ranch, so one or more of the four members of the outside-at-night contingent have started weaseling their way into sleeping inside the house.

Sometimes it's blatant. More often, it is a covert operation involving diversion and subterfuge.

They all usually prefer to roam the shadow realm when night falls, finding refuge in the hay bales in the barn when the temps take a dip. But if the weather takes a turn for the very wet or extra chilly, the finagling begins.

Two of the four are very well behaved and can be trusted indoors. The other two are menaces who, after having successfully achieved bedtime invisibility, will make their presence and strong desires known somewhere between 4:00 and 6:00 AM in a most raucous and boisterous display that, should I choose to turn a deaf ear and continue soaking my pillow with drool while pursuing that ever-illusive French truffle the size of an ottoman, will give way to retaliatory vandalism.

We have recently discovered however, that there is, in fact, such thing as Kitty Karma.

Not long ago, our dearly beloved and faithful, fairly low-tech coffee maker went kaput. It was simple featuring only a thermal carafe and timing capabilities, but made great coffee. Upon its demise, my folks generously gifted us a new, state-of-the-art, fancy schmancy model that had been languishing unopened in their garage. It not only brews your coffee and holds it at the temperature of your particular preference, it even grinds your fresh, whole beans and dumps the fragrant grounds right into the filter for you at the precise moment and grind consistency to achieve the most technologically perfect cup o' joe ever devised by a team of overpaid engineers.*

So, there I am, post-alarm, cozily drowsing in eager anticipation of the joyful sound of our new java droid awakening to begin its life of servitude when it happens...

The timer hits 6:55, the grinder whirs and clatters to life and, at that exact split second... the unmistakable sound of 16, startled and terror-filled paws frantically scratching their heated exit from the still-dark kitchen, then thundering down the hallway toward our bedrooms and presumed sanctuary.

In stead of comfort and consolation, they found me, standing there in my jammies, laughing at them in unexpected, payback bliss!

Apparently the sneaky ones had somehow *overslept* and got a taste of what it's like to be startled awake by a harsh and unexpected racket...

"HA!" I say. Double "HA!"

Though I did feel kinda bad for the good, polite, quiet kitties who let me sleep, I savored that first cup from the shee-shee machine with great relish and just a bit of sick satisfaction.

"The new coffee maker is so fast, why don't you set the timer for when you're already up and the lights are on so it doesn't come as such a shock to them when it starts up?" my kind-hearted husband asked.

"What? And deny myself all that sadistic pleasure? Are you nuts?"

Poor kitties. Poor, poor traumatized little kitties...

::snicker::

Now, where did I leave the vacuum...

* Don't get me wrong, it's really a nice machine, but it cracks me up how this thing is supposed to make "making coffee" so much more convenient. Now, instead of: grind coffee the night before; place in filter; pour water into reservoir; activate timer; upon finishing coffee toss used filter... I get to: place beans in grinder the night before, pour water into reservoir; activate timer; upon finishing coffee dismantle the entire machine, clean five separate pieces and dry thoroughly before reassembling... so I can have my coffee ground for me and drink it five minutes sooner! I have to laugh at myself that I love it so much.

Outta Nowhere

2007-11-01T17:26:00.000-07:00

The answer to yesterday's question "Will Grace go trick-or-treating as The Big Wiggly Puppy she was when she went to school?":

Drum roll, please...

That's a big, fat NO!

After torturing me with a re-visit of the very-time-worn ladybug costume, and throwing in a previously-never-even-hinted-at "I WANNA BE A KITTY" (which I have absolutely NOTHING from which to manufacture a costume) Anna strolled into the room offering her old dragon costume and saved my life.

NOT that I would drop everything and suddenly produce a kitty suit out of thin air to spare myself the agony of prolonged whining mind you, I was just getting weary of the fervent mind-changing. I didn't care if she wanted to be something else as long as it was reasonably easy and wouldn't make us late... er, any later... to the pre-trick-or-treating party at Auntie Dawn's house.

With this decision *final* we dashed out the door and up the hill for pizza and candy corn flavored (EWWW!) soda. She had a great time collecting candy, as did all the kids, and was, of course a KICKIN' dragon. :)

*whew*

NanoNinja and the Big Wiggly Puppy*

2007-10-31T09:19:00.001-07:00

Small but FIERCE!

A Ninja and her Dog...

B.W.P.

Other costumes considered by Grace starting from Monday up until the bus's arrival at 8:55:

"Something Disgusting"

Princess

Mummy
("you can wrap me up in toilet paper and tape it!")

Puppy

Ladybug

Ladybug-Puppy

Will Grace still be a puppy when she goes trick or treating? Your guess is as good as mine.

This one exercises "a woman's right to change her mind" to the fullest extent allowed by law.

I'm just holding my breath that she really has ditched the mummy idea. Can you just imagine the nightmare that would be trying to keep her "dressings" of perforated TP from falling off every time she bends over to pick up an errant Skittle? Oy.

There is a reason mummies walk with stiff legs and arms straight out... they're hermetically sealed in SCOTCH TAPE!

Happy Halloween, Y'all!

* "The Big Wiggly Puppy" is the name I have given to the part of my personality that leaps out when I get really excited about something. It's very well-meaning and joyful, but also just as likely to knock you down and slobber all over you... which I imagine can get a little annoying for the slobberee.

It is very appropriate that I loan this moniker to Grace, not only because of her choice of costumes, but, well, her B.W.P. is on the loose pretty much 24/7.

"Jiffy Pop," Anyone?

2007-10-30T10:48:00.001-07:00

For some reason, these little guys just make me happy.

I don't know why I've suddenly become obsessed with the mushrooms growing in my in-laws' yard. Every time I go out to do my cow chores these days, it seems I can't help but snap a shot of friendly-looking fungus.

I know. It's silly.

Surprised?

Me neither.

The last Rio Samba

This is one of my all-time favorite rose varieties. In warm weather, this buttery yellow gives way to intense, deep oranges and pinks. Its aroma is reminiscent of really good citrus fruit punch.

Just looking at it makes me pine for next June.

Okay, gotta get back to my *job* now.

Oh, and, the cows say "hi."

Ciao, now, brown cow!

Odds and Ends. Bits and Pieces. This and That.

2007-10-29T12:17:00.000-07:00

Harlequin Glory Bower Blossom*

It was a full weekend here on the Ranch and elsewhere.

My Little Purple Belt

It started off on Friday with Anna's Belt Ceremony where she received her Purple Belt in Tae Kwon Do. She is so very proud... almost as proud as I am of her. She TOTALLY ROCKS!
Plus, can you imagine what I save in personal security detail costs just by hanging out with her?!

Seriously.

Don't muck with this little ninja. She'll mess you up.

Oh, the half-a-board she's holding up was one of a stack of five her instructor (yes, the big guy on the right) broke as a reward for the higher ranking students passing all of their board breaking tests. It was really cool... and painful to watch. He was going to break a brick, but that wasn't possible at the time, so the equivalent is about five boards. He wasn't successful on his first attempt. He was, however, victorious on his second... using the same arm he slammed into those boards just moments before! GAH!! I fractured my elbow just watching!

Pumpkin Palooza Prep

Anna's friend, Julia, joined us for PP and to celebrate her (Julia's) 11th birthday.

The competition was fierce!

Um, Grace and Anna kind of got inspired by the same theme, but Grace (and I) did take home second place! Ours is the TotemPunkin on the right. Anna's is on the left. The little guy in the front? I have no idea who it belonged to but it's kinda cute so I let him stay.

I forgot to get a picture of Risa's winning entry. (I must have been addled by all of Charity's Award Winning Pumpkin Cheesecake I scarfed down... or maybe it was some kind of subconscious passive-agression over not winning the much coveted trophy... hmmmmm?)

Risa made the CUTEST little house, complete with an opening door and free-standing picket fence from a white pumpkin that was just adorable enough to house Hello Kitty.

Congratulations, Risa!! ;)

My first GOOD batch of 'Bucha Tea... or what's left of it.
I started out with a gallon.

Thanks to Lisa B. I finally managed to produce Kombucha Tea that is actually good enough to drink... for less than $7 a four-pack! With the way my Peeps put this stuff down (we drink it instead of soda) we'll be flying to Hawaii on the savings in no time!

Well, now that I've got you all updated on the minutia that was my weekend, I'll be off to practice my hula.

Aloha, Y'all!

*This is one of my two favorite trees in my in-laws' yard. Those blossoms smell like jasmine. Delicious. My other favorite is their Catalpa tree whose leaves are slightly fuzzy and the size of dinner plates. The kids fold them into "nature pockets" and collect treasures from the yard in them. Sadly, the tree is dying and will be removed soon. :(

Ring Around the Ranch

2007-10-23T10:24:00.000-07:00

Alternate Title:

No Pheasant Present, But Dew? Can Do!

sorry.

Clothesed for the Season

Today I won't subject you to any feeble attempts to wax poetic, but did want to share some shots of my tour around the Ranch this morning. It is such a glorious day, I took a good long time to wander the property and drink in all the breathtaking beauty Fall has to offer.

Faerie Skyscrapers

If only I knew if they are poisonous...

Animation Suspended

Everyone Shares on the Ranch

Dewy Dandelion

Today's Chore Companion, Jack.

Still Trying

Where Faeries Get Their Silver

Barn Boss

Cow Candy

Brilliant

Should've worn the boots.

I hope you are enjoying this amazing day as much as I am... Cheers!

Pheasant Present*

2007-10-22T12:05:00.001-07:00

(For illustration purposes only... not my actual pheasant... obviously.)

What a present
Was the pheasant
I did glimpse upon this morn.

Not a peasant
Of a pheasant,
He, so regally adorned.

Til’ now I had
But seen him at
The far side of the pasture.

The bushes and
The fences had
Obscured his noble stature.

But on this day
He came my way
And stood there in the sunshine.

Mere feet away
His fear gave way
He scuttled for the tree line.

For my presence
To this pheasant
Was to surely be construed

As not pleasant
For the pheasant
But, a plan to make him food.

So effort he
Did make quickly
To end up not under glass.

How could he know
I would not go
And eat his fine, plum'd carcass.

Cam’ra in hand
Across our land
I searched through garden and trees

I did intend
To show, my Friend,
The pure glory that was he.

To write a post
For those, at most
Whose number has surged to three!

Not how to roast
Or even toast
But share his unique beauty.

But at present
My dear pheasant
Is a hidin’ in an a tree.

Seems the present
Of my pheasant
Was a gift saved just for me.

*Disclaimer:
Yes, I am aware this composition is a syllabically-rhythmic train wreck. I'm no poet, but as I was tramping around in the grass trying to find said purty birdie, this started rattling in my cranium so, I thought, "What the heck? Why not open myself up to a whole new reason for folks to point at me and laugh, 'eh?" I say,"What better way to start a Monday?!"...

... Except, of course, for going out to the garage to get some bread yeast outta the fridge and seeing a freakin' gorgeous bird hanging out right outside the window!

Very, VERY cool!

Happy Monday, Y'all! And enjoy that belly laugh at my expense. Really. I don't mind a bit!

Grilled Cheese Gets an Upgrade

2007-10-19T14:09:00.001-07:00

Grilled Cheese Mania has descended upon my household since the minute the fresh bread cooled enough to slice it.

Grace not only requested it for breakfast today, but also the minute she got home from school... and again before she was done eating her lunch! (I talked her into something else instead of a third one, however... I have real concerns about *plumbing*... in every imaginable sense of the word, should she consume much more Tillamook Cheddar.)

She made that humble, cheesy comfort food favorite look so good, I decided to have one myself, but my desire leaned toward something a bit more... um... interesting. To my crispy, buttery, toasted perfection I added the roasted tomatoes from a couple of posts ago, some thinly-sliced zucchini, lightly salted and sprinkled with fresh-ground pepper. Served alongside a salad of fresh mixed greens, walnuts and balsamic vinaigrette it almost made me forget how much fat and carbohydrates I was foisting upon my unsuspecting vascular system.

Awe, who am I kidding. My arteries have been with me for forty years now. I'm sure I could eat a wheel of brie the size of a tractor tire and my body wouldn't be remotely surprised...

... though that doesn't mean it wouldn't retaliate against any gross assault on my part.

I get too crazy with the bread or the cheese and my mortal coil will waste no time slapping me with a massive headache, just to remind me who's really in charge here.

That's my life on the edge folks... walking the fine line between just enough baked goods and fine dairy products to sate my highly-evolved palate and cowering in pain, shunning the smallest shaft of light like a vampire with a hangover.

Yes, that's me. Angeleen, Culinary Daredevil.

It's Bread and Soup Weather!

2007-10-18T08:55:00.000-07:00

"Daddy, what smells so good?!"

"That's homemade bread, Anna. Homemade bread!"

"Yea!!!"

This is half the reason I roast a chicken, people.

(head swings around to me, wide-eyed and breathless)
"Mommy, what's for dinner?"

"Chicken noodle soup and bread."

"*gasp!* Yea!!!!!"

My mixer arrived almost two weeks ago but I haven't had a chance to put 'er through the paces until yesterday. Man, the wait was *killing* me! Just didn't have time or the right stuff, but I finally made it happen and everyone I live with sure is happy about it.

Anna is big on dipping her slab of buttery, yeastified goodness into the soup. Grace regards this as disgusting even to watch. Anna just rolls her eyes and shakes her head at her sister's immature culinary preferences.

The girls were totally stoked to have toasted cheese sandwiches for breakfast this morning... and I was totally stoked to clean up their scraps. Toasted cheese crusts and coffee... mmmmm!

Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go let out the waistband and fanny of my favorite jeans to make room for the continued carbohydrate onslaught.

Toast 'em if ya got 'em.

Desiccated and Delectable

2007-10-16T19:17:00.000-07:00

Before

After 4.5 hours at 325°.
(Sorry about the flash on the white plate. It was unavoidable, but *yikes!*)

If it seems to you like that many fresh tomatoes should make a lot more roasted ones than are shown resting on the blinding-white plate, you would be right! These babies are so dang tasty we can't leave 'em alone and have already demolished about half of the finished product. Now that's gooooood.

Many thanks to Lisa E. for the recipe and Angelina for posting it along with lovely pictures that I found overwhelmingly inspiring. They used some beautiful Beefsteak or some other big, fat slicing tomatoes. I had only small specimens, though being at their ripe and juicy best, the flavor is absolutely astounding! I wish I had roasted a bushel of those little sweeties!

Next year, my Darlings, next year...

The Accidental Afficianado

2007-10-15T08:17:00.000-07:00

This is Midna*. She looks like she has a guilty conscience, doesn't she?

That is probably because a split second before Anna took this picture, she most likely just took a dump behind the couch! Or perhaps she recently peed by the front door...

Charming.

It was when she started leaving *presents* RIGHT NEXT TO THE CAT BOX that we were left with one of the following conclusions:

1. Having never lived with a cat that didn't catch-on to the box within about 10 seconds of being introduced to it, she was obviously severely brain damaged.

2. She was acting out her extreme angst over our blatant favoritism for her little sister.

3. Said angst had rendered her maniacally suicidal.

4. She didn't like the cat litter.

We had always used clay litter until I, on a visit to our local she-she pet boutique, read an article posted right there on the glass of the kitty-love-a-thon room that clay is supposedly very bad for the health of your cat and, not too surprisingly, that of the owner changing the cat litter. Seems the dust gets breathed in and all that wonderful clumping power works its own special brand of Voo-Doo on the dewy-moist lining of the lungs. Also, since cats aren't inclined to hop into the shower with their kitty-sized bar of handmade lavender soap, they also get it into their digestive system where it can wreak havoc.

SO...

Being the ever vigilant cat owner I began a quest for the best non-cat-killing litter I could find to assure a safe potty experience for all our cats, but especially Ashly's soon-to-arrive litter of kittens. ("Cat litter" ... "Litter of kittens." Coincidence? I *seriously* doubt it.)

First, I tried "S'Wheat Scoop" made from ground up wheat kernels. Lovely idea though obscenely expensive. It worked pretty well except for two things: The gluten in the wheat is what makes for the highly-touted "natural clumping action." This is also why you can use flour and water to make GLUE. Not so bad when kitty only piddles in the top inch of the litter, but most cats love to dig... hence, imagine cleaning four cat boxes with sticky pee clumps inexorably adhered to the bottom...

And as if that weren't pleasant enough, the wheat has a smell that one normally associates with food, of course. Nothing is quite so appetizing as the perfume of fresh baked bread slathered in newly minted cat poop. MMMmmmmm YUMMY!

::GAG::

I wasn't willing to do litter "pearls" or any of that chemically, high-tech junk. Please. They're cats. Cats poop in dirt, NOT on a freshly strewn bed of fragrant white marbles.

My last resort was to try "Feline Pine." Basically, it's sawdust that comes in pellets and now, "New Scoopable!" I knew my cats would have a hard time adjusting to pellets and, well, the loose kind just made more sense to me, so I got it.

This stuff is GREAT!! Yes, it tracks, but all cat litter does, really. The thing that is so amazing about it is that we never** smell the cat boxes even when I'm changing them! I think it smells like "new house in progress." You know, the scent of freshly sawed lumber? To me, that's a happy association. The litter clumps really well though, because it is very light, you have to jiggle around the little scooper thing to separate the solids from the clean stuff. Not a huge deal in my book.

So. Here I am, thinking I have struck kitty litter gold! The Old Cat's frequent, spontaneous vomiting had stopped except for when he actually had a hairball (a VERY welcome change, I might add, especially since he spends 99% of his life in our bedroom...) and the other cats took to it immediately. Super!

Bring on the next challenge!

Stupid, stupid girl.

Fast forward to the present. Of Ashly's six fuzzy little offspring, we kept two: Midna and her little sister, Winky. Naturally, there were a few accidents around the house as the kittens were learning the ropes, but someone was exhibiting a severe learning disability! We were never sure exactly who it was, because we never caught her in the act, but had suspected Midna as I had regularly seen Winky leaving the cat box.

I was NEVER without my Kitty Clean-Up Kit within easy reach.

Damned cat.

Finally, timing was on our side and Midna was exposed as the resident vandal. Every time she would slip up, we threw her in the cat box or outside and thoroughly cleaned the accident spot, but she just wasn't *getting it.*

I was sick of spending my *free* moments inhaling kitty fumes.

James, who can hardly stand two magazines resting askew on the coffee table, let alone kitty bombs regularly defiling his domicile, gave me a week to figure it out or Midna would become an outdoor cat. Where we live, given her minuscule size (even at seven months old) and lack of experience in the "wild" this translates directly into "Coyote Food."

Did I say "bring on the next challenge?" Stupid! Stupid! Stupid!

It wasn't until I noticed that she would sometimes poop NEXT TO THE CAT BOXES that it hit me. James, in reading about "Feline Pine" when we switched, had mentioned that a certain percentage of cats don't take to it. The pine aroma is just too strong to them or they don't like the way the particles feel between their pads... who knows.

In a last-ditch effort to save this cute, friendly, if *frustrating*, little creature from the maw of a violent, predatory death I decided to try the clay litter again in one cat box.

I put her inside it and dragged her tiny paw across the clay in a hope-filled demonstration of Remedial Cat Box Training 101... "First we scratch the surface..." Clearly oblivious that her very life was at stake, she walked off with a swagger of indifference. My heart sank but I crossed my fingers anyway.

Lo and behold! Since her introduction to the potentially hazardous glory that is clay litter, Midna has not had ONE accident! HALLELUJA!!

We are ALL very relieved.

Yes, I have to clean that particular box out at LEAST once a day or the smell drives me out of the house***. And, while I tried to find the least harmful litter I could, I do hold by breath and turn on a fan when I change it. However, until Midna starts showing signs of ill effects, I will consider the compromise worthwhile as my carpet, the kitty and my marital bliss have been saved.

Scientific conclusion: ratio of cats who love "Feline Pine" to those who would rather risk being eviscerated than use it: 6:1.

Bring on the next...! OH, would you just SHUT UP!!

*Yes, for all you "Legend of Zelda" fans, thanks to James, she is named after Link's impish "Twilight Princess" cohort. I had named her Mojo, but he thought it sounded too masculine. *Whatever*

**Okay, so , when someone has been eating too many mice and you walk by the box after they've just stepped out of it the aroma is, shall we say, pungent... okay, ASSAILANT, but it is soon overtaken by the clean, fresh scent of pine trees!

*** I have the olfactory senses of a freakin' Bloodhound.

This Could Explain The Multiple Contusions and Sketchy Memory

2007-10-13T09:27:00.000-07:00

This is why only our 14-year-old cat sleeps inside.

He's too old and fragile to lift any blunt, heavy objects, but will at times resort to the old "knock-over-the-glass-of-water-on-the-night-stand-with-my-head" maneuver.

Can you imagine the carnage if all seven slept inside?!
::shiver::

A Jar Full of Memories

2007-10-09T14:37:00.001-07:00

It's the little things. Simple, unassuming objects of everyday life that hold potent powers of recollection.

These make the best gifts. Give me pause. Like snippets of life handed over to be locked in timeless suspension to be visited and cherished. The smells, the sounds, the feelings. Bits of conversations and lessons learned. Warm moments shared that seemed so ordinary at the time, but gain emotional momentum until they are gilt with a sheen of preciousness and longing.

It is in these ordinary objects that I feel my Grandmother. I know I'm not the only one.

Grannee was the kind of woman that made an impression on everyone she met.

She was the embodiment of elegance. The definition of grace. Manners personified.

And just as comfortable milking a cow or working farm machinery as she was hostessing a dinner party for 30 or working in an office downtown or tickling a grandchild.

I could go on. I'm sure you can tell.

Suffice to say, Gran had so much spirit and love in her that, now that she's gone, it makes throwing away anything... even breath mints I found in one of her purses, agonizing and heart-wrenching. About the only things it didn't nearly kill me to pitch were her bank statements from 1984.

Obviously, my mom has similar feelings, but has been working on becoming more callous about such things out of sheer practicality. You can't keep every tube of rancid, coral pink lip stick or butter dish. There just isn't room and they're just THINGS, right?

So, when she read my post about toothpaste, where I mention how Gran kept her salt and soda in an old cold cream jar her heart fell to her stomach. "If I had only known! I think I remember throwing it away thinking, 'well, I guess she won't be needing this anymore.' Now I wish I had it to give you!"

We both sat there trying not to wallow in disappointment. "It never fails..." and all that. Still, I applauded her at letting go of at least ONE thing and reassured her she could never have known that little jar held such vivid memories for me. I didn't really know it myself until I wrote the post.

But, as REMAINS my Grannee's way, she finds the means to get things done, even from the other side. She's an ambitious one. And generous. And kind. And just as sentimental as her girls.

On Sunday, as my mom continued on her never-ending task of sorting though bags and boxes in her garage... guess what magically appeared among the flotsam...

And on Monday, when I walked into my bathroom, it was sitting on the counter.

I shrieked in disbelief. And now, as I write this, my face is wet with tears, thinking of her and how much this single little object brings her close to me again. I feel her arms around me almost tangibly. I miss her so much, but at the moment, I feel like we've had a visit.

This little jar that is older than I am, that she saved because she thought it was pretty. That she held in her hands twice a day in the most mundane of daily rituals, is now a vessel for my tooth powder and my memories. A place for us to meet as I stare at myself in the mirror and wait for my toothbrush to stop buzzing... and remember her as I polish my smile.

I know she likes that. She is very big on good teeth and a bright smile.

Thanks Grannee... and mom... for the treasure.

Nerd Girl Word Freak

2007-10-08T12:25:00.001-07:00

Few things give me more geekish pleasure than stumbling across a word that sends me scrambling for my dictionary.

Seriously.

So, there I was, minding my own business when, WHAM! This woman being quoted in an article about how the "Shanghai Tunnels" under downtown Portland may have a much less sinister history after all whips out this magnificent beauty from her own personal lexicon.

And now, I present to you, the word of the day:

obfuscate: 1. To make so confused as to be difficult to understand. 2. To render indistinct or dim.

Pronunciation? The "o" is short, the "u" is a schwa... you know the sound made by that funny upside-down "e" thing. C'mon, people, "SCHWA!" It's First Grade English.

Thank you, Jacqueline Peterson Loomis, for your outstanding contribution in the ongoing fight to keep delicious, tantalizingly archaic words alive in the age of Newspeak.

And with that, I had better cease and desist lest I belabor the point into obfuscation... ahhhh... nice!

The Feet of Mercury and a Heart of Gold

2007-10-06T16:58:00.001-07:00

For the first time ever Anna and Grace go to the same school and therefor, were able to do the biggest fund raiser of the year, the "Fun Run," together.

Grace, as I've said before, isn't big on crowds and was ready to back out when we arrived at the school, but Anna assured her she would be right there with her.

I figured she'd stay until Grace was comfortable with everything then feverishly pursue her goal of making enough laps to reach $200 in pledges. This would win her an iPod! Wow!

In stead, they ran side-by-side the entire time they had to run together... most of it hand-in-hand!

This was quite a risk for Anna to take as her goal was to finish 22 laps on a roughly 1/4 mile track, but she wouldn't leave her little sister in the dust... or, more accurately, the mud, given the pouring rain. Instead, she ran with Grace for the 30 minutes allowed for the Kindergarteners and they made it to Grace's goal of 13 laps! (Edit: Grace just corrected me that she ran 14 laps. I looked at the sheet again and she's right! So G. gets credit for meeting her goal plus one, too!) Having her big sister there made all the difference for her. Then, when Grace had to finish and go inside and the 4/5s ran their final 10 minutes, Anna turned on the heat and blasted out NINE MORE LAPS! That means she made her goal plus one extra for good measure!

I was SO proud of them... and especially Anna. Not only for her amazing speed, but her kindness and consideration for her sister.

What impressed me most, however, is what she did last night. That was when we tallied up how much each had earned for the school. Anna had made $214. More than she needed for her iPod. Yippee!

We figured out that Grace made $172... enough for a portable CD player, but just short of the iPod. Grace said she was fine with that, but Anna said, she knew Grace would be really disappointed when she realized the difference.

"Mommy," she asked, "how much more money would Grace need for an iPod?"

"$28"

"How much does she have?"

"$4 and a bunch of change."

"I want to give her $20 toward the iPod and maybe she can put in eight."

"Are you SURE?! $20 is a lot of money for you."

"I know. I just don't want her to be sad."

*gulp*

I tried very hard to make real to a five-year-old's brain, what this meant. Anna was giving up a full month's allowance just so she wouldn't have to be disappointed when her prize wasn't the same as what Anna had worked so hard for.

Grace thought about it for a second, then ran over and hugged Anna hard around the neck as they laughed together.

Later, Grace came to me and said, "Mommy, I'm glad God gave Anna to me for a big sister."

You guys... I get to be their mom.

Wow.

My Moss is Perking Up

2007-10-03T10:42:00.001-07:00

Ahhhhh... the sweet, glorious rain has returned in earnest.

Don't get me wrong. I enjoy a good sunny day as much as the next gal, but the heat of Summer holds no true pleasure for me much past 80°. Pool or no pool.

I despise sweating.

There's a saying that goes, "You can tell a Native Oregonian by the moss on our backs and the webs between our toes."

Umbrella? Please.

I think I do own one, but I can't even tell you where it is. No, rain is for washing the earth and my face in splashy droplets of liquid sky.

Replenish.

Refresh.

Drink it in and feel my roots bore deeper into mother earth, secretly feasting on her hidden goodness that only well-watered tapping tendrils may seek out.

When it rains, the harder the better mind you, my truest self awakens and I feel alive and somehow relaxed. In my element.

Bake bread.

Make pot roast. Chicken and dumplings.

Read by a crackling fire while a torrent pounds and the wind howls past my chimney-top underscoring that I am safe and warm and well-fed.

Makes me more keenly aware of so many blessings overlooked when all is calm, dry and quiet.

Rain reminds me that I live in a place where things want to grow. Things I can eat and feed my family.

Growing things love rain.

Children are growing things.

My children love the rain...

... but, not as much as they love mud.

I've been "Niced"

2007-09-30T15:54:00.000-07:00

What an honor and surprise.

Ms Wendy over at Wisdom of the Moon recently chose me to receive the 'Nice Matters Award'. The person who awarded it to her has this to say...

"This award is for those bloggers who are nice people; good blog friends and those who inspire good feelings and inspiration. Also for those who are a positive influence on our blogging world. Once you've been awarded please pass it on to 7 others who you feel are deserving of this award."

What a very lovely compliment to received after only a few months of blogging. It's something I started doing as another creative outlet and because I have enjoyed finding so many other crazy women out there who share many of my interests and even some of my neuroses... always good for a knowing nod and chuckle. I had no idea anyone but my mom would actually read mine. Hi, Mom!

So. Without further ado, I humbly submit my selections in no particular order:

Dustpan Alley: Though a word like "nice" seems insultingly bland to describe Angelina, (don't dare say "everybody liked her" at her funeral or she'll haunt you mercilessly) I truly enjoy having her for a friend and look forward to her blog updates... with all their twists and turns from deep ponderings to recipes, to rants, to random thoughts. She has an amazing way with words and a vocabulary I envy.

The Tardy Homemaker: Lisa is a sweet, homeschooling mom whom I have vowed to get over to my house because we have so dang much in common... except for the homeschooling part. Her posts always leave me with a smile.

No Time For Blogging: This is the blog of my friend, Cheryle's, life and travels. I have known her literally my whole life and it's fun to read her upbeat writings to keep in touch when our very different lives keep us from getting together as often as we would like... plus, I get to live vicariously through them! At the moment, she and her husband just happen to be in Barcelona... bitch. Just kidding!!! :)

Shuriken and Chevre: Though not often updated, much to my dismay, Beth is one of my dearest friends. Ninja, Chef, Children's Pastor and UberMom, this woman makes me tired just thinking about what she packs into a day... hence the oft-dormant blog. When she finally gets around to it, though, hers is lots of fun and inspiring to read.

No Appropriate Behavior: Okay, so, spicy language doesn't bother me in the slightest so Laura's propensity for cursing isn't, to me, off-putting. Her tales of life with her two boys, a husband who regularly travels for work and facing the challenges of a family with multiple food intolerances often leaves me weeping from laughter. Another great thing is her gluten-free recipe site. But perhaps one of the most entertaining facts about her main blog is that her posts are always named for song lyrics or titles which she explains once a month (much to my age-addled brain's relief.) "Of course! Split Enz! I knew that..."

Richie Design: Richele is a fun gal with amazing taste who lives in Long Beach, CA. I knew her before blog land, but if I didn't I'd still read her. She has many talents, not the least of which is photography. She shares some of her gorgeous work and fun/insightful thoughts on being a girl in this big ol' world. Always good for a chuckle or three... especially when she's talking about drinking beer in bed. ;)

Wisdom of the Moon: I don't know if tag-backs are legal here but I'm throwing caution to the wind and doing it! Wendy, YOU'RE SO NICE! :) She's also very talented and extremely creative! Go check out the cupcakes she made for Halloween (Richie!). I look at her stuff and realize how totally I suck. No. Really. She's very inspiring and makes me wish I had a fraction of the energy required to crank out the projects she makes look so effortless.

So there you have it. I'm sure there are a zillion other cool, creative, chatty chicks out there with blogs I need to read/get addicted to, much to my great downfall. For now, though, these are the ladies whose words occupy my idle moments. Do go visit them and enjoy... but like I said, for a couple, you'll want to leave your fragile sensibilities at the door. It's okay. You'll have fun.

"Everybody, McFly, Zgottcho Invitation!"*

2007-09-26T12:59:00.001-07:00

*For full effect, sing this while simultaneously grabbing your pant leg with one hand and Wii Bowling with the other. It totally works as demonstrated above.

This is Max.
(Yes, Angelina, my Max is as red-headed as your Max is blond.)

Max's mom is my cousin, Rebecca. Actually, she's more like my sister. Strike that. She is my sister in every way except the strictest sense of the word "literally."

Our dads are brothers and, though our moms couldn't be much more different had they come from separate planets, we've got some seriously similar genetic material.

It is a rare and glorious occasion indeed when we get to be in the same room together and the worst kind of torture when it's time for her to go again. Rebecca has been very gracious about flying up from AZ a couple of times a year, most often with at least one of her two darling boys and sometimes even her hubby.

It's beyond time for us to head in their direction as soon as I can figure out how to do that logistically and financially.

Max must have eaten SIX tomatoes within the first hour or so of their arrival. Not surprisingly, they don't have a garden at home so this was actually a big treat for him. He squeezed every succulent drop of life out of his visit here... which at times could be seen running down his chin and staining his shirt.

And, great glory, did he LOVE the fresh, raw milk! Though, I must say I was sad to disappoint him by not being in a position to offer him an actual cow milking experience. Our cows aren't for milking and those that are weren't available to indulge his craving.

He did get to help me do my cow chores though and he seemed pretty pleased about that.

I am never more grateful for our life here than when I witness such honest and pure expressions of enjoyment and appreciation by those who live differently. Surely, country life is not for everyone, but I have yet to invite anyone here and have them run screaming back to the city. Most tend to drag their feet a bit, even when they're ready to get back to life as usual.

I love that.

While it seemed like Rebecca and I scarcely left the kitchen, what with keeping these three little mouths satisfied, not to mention stuffing our own, the time together was better than ever.

It was in preparing for this event that I broke my mixer making Kraut Brook for the whole gang: her dad, my dad, my older brother and his wife... and of course the inevitable, and very welcome, "drop-ins:" my mom and step-dad and naturally, my in-laws.

We had a house full... which is always kind of exhausting. At the same time, few things make me happier than feeding all my people and listening to the hum of happy chatting as family and friends catch up on each other's lives.

It was all over far too quickly. Arizona is a world away when we both wish they lived right next door. We never got to spend much time together as kids but somehow the older we get, the more important we become to each other and time together is like a much needed fix for a couple of "connection junkies."

It's truly a Divine gift to have someone in your life with whom you can have such a strong bond, even over time and distance... and a wicked torment when you can't be together very, very frequently.

Parting isn't sweet sorrow, it's just plain raw, gut-wrenching sorrow. What's sweet, is knowing that when we finally are together, the time in between melts away and we greedily drink each other in acting like "good bye" will never come.

I'm really learning to despise the airport.

THIS is What!*

2007-09-25T14:06:00.001-07:00

*See previous post.

Gotta LOVE the refurb thing.

Hopefully stepping up to professional-grade will prevent future unpleasant surprises!

That's 575 watts of raw power, Baby! This one can take a good spankin' which is a very good thing when I'M at the controls!

And it's so preeeeeeetty... mmmmmmmm... Brushed *Nickel Pearl body... yummy... and *gasp!* look at all the stainless steel attachments...!

um... *ahem* ...um...

Sorry.

Kitchen porn.

Smoke 'em if ya got 'em.

*EDIT: When I originally posted this, I had remembered the color wrong. It's nickel pearl, not "pearlized nickel." So, Risa, you might want to edit your new mantra.

Now What?

2007-09-25T08:28:00.000-07:00

Shit.

Dubious Distinction

2007-09-24T11:44:00.000-07:00

Here's a quick Monday morning poll for you:

How many people can say they have made bread dough so tough...

... it BROKE A KITCHENAID!??

Well, I can.

Shocked and amazed I was. Didn't know it was even *possible*. Stripped its poor little gears clear to oblivion.

I'm not sure it's something to be proud of, per se, but it is something.

What I *am* proud of though, is when this stunning event occurred, I was half way through making two batches of bread dough (trying to remedy my under-liquifying, actually) for a big family gathering (more to come on this shortly). I made the second batch entirely by hand. It turned out perfect and wasn't nearly as difficult as I had imagined... having never made an un-Aided loaf of bread in my life.

Now, where the blue blazes am I gonna get this beast fixed? Is there even such thing as KitchenAid repair? Given their reputation for being indestructible I'm forced to wonder.

Yes, I will get it fixed, perfect bread dough or not. I mean, the handmade stuff was great, but when it comes to bread, I'd rather spend my time eating it than kneading it. Though, it is very good therapy, I don't think my life is frustrating enough to toss out the mixer just yet.

In the immortal words of Homer Simpson, "DOH!"

No Matter the Color, All Toothpaste is "Blue"

2007-09-20T08:42:00.001-07:00

Another Soapbox Moment: brought to you by baking soda.

This particular rant is on the topic of the "Bluing*" of toothpaste.

Reviling as I do all things artificial and overly marketed, I was recently on a quest for unadulterated toothpaste at my local Fred Meyer "Nutrition" Center.

• I don't want fluoride. (I prefer my dentifrice without extra chemicals, thanks.)

• I don't want fancy colors. (I happen to be allergic to food dye.)

• I don't want artificial flavors. (I don't expect the word "delicious" to enter my mind while I'm cleaning my chompers.)

• I don't need artificial sweeteners (I'm well enough endowed with insanity, I'll skip the neurotoxins, if you don't mind.)

I just want to clean my teeth without exposing myself to a bunch of crap I don't need.

You know what? Not even the supposed "healthy" toothpastes could offer me truly *clean* dental hygiene! Every one of them had carageenan, a thickener that just also happens to contain MSG. Oh, it's natural because it comes from seaweed, but it's still MSG!

Also, the new "wonder sweetener" is Xylitol. Don't be conned into believing this is the wholesome answer to Aspertame, folks. It may come from the bark of birch trees and be "natural" but it is still a sugar alcohol just like Sorbitol, its more recognizable, synthetic Evil cousin. If you react to Sorbitol, you will react to Xylitol. I know because I did.

All I want to know is: since when did cleaning your teeth require so much chemistry?

I recently gave this some serious thought and remembered a childhood overnight visit to my grandparents' house. At bedtime, I shuffled into the bathroom looking for the tube of Crest and Grannee** handed me a little, former cold cream jar full of white powder.

I looked at her sideways, of course. Where's the tube of goo? "What's this?" I asked with an undoubtedly puzzled look on my face.

"That's salt and soda. Just get your toothbrush a little wet, dip it in there good and brush your teeth like you do with toothpaste." she smiled down at me, pretty amused at watching the gears churning in my little noggin.

I complied, of course, and it was wretched to my unsuspecting juvenile taste buds, but, man, my teeth were clean!

It wasn't what I was used to, and the taste had come as a huge shock to me, but once my expectations were sufficiently adjusted, it wasn't horrible and actually felt more satisfying than the sicky-sweet saccharine aftertaste of the usual stuff.

Longing to recapture that healthy, fresh feeling, I looked online for some salt-and-soda-recipes. There are quite a few, but EDIT: this is the one I like.

I use sea salt in stead of table salt, which has its own inherent issues, and baking soda. I also add a little twist that has proven quite interesting... I wet my toothbrush with hydrogen peroxide. Each ingredient has properties that kill the bad bacteria, but leave the good stuff to happily flourish and do its job.

Beyond just cleaning my teeth, though, I've noticed the added bonus of whiteness. Makes perfect sense since I use baking soda to clean the stains out of my sink. Hydrogen peroxide, as any "suicide blond" can tell you, is great for safe bleaching while killing bad bacterial beasties.

No, my breath isn't minty fresh when I'm done brushing. It doesn't smell like anything. Just clean.

No, I don't get a sweet, minty hit while I brush, it's more mildly salty and fizzy, but it doesn't remotely resemble anything unpleasant, though I might put a drop or two of peppermint oil in the mix, just to add a little sass.

What I do have is an insanely inexpensive, good for my body, way to clean my teeth with absolutely no, stupid, non-recyclable packaging to discard.

Doesn't get much simpler or better than that, People!

Brush 'em if ya got em.

Peas, out.

*"Blue", you'll remember from my last Soapbox Moment is the term I have coined for food or products that have mutated into flashy, fake, brightly-colored floozified mockeries of their formerly wholesome selves.

**It is very much worth noting that my Grandmother had ALL her teeth until she was about 93, at which point, ONE decided it was time to retire from service and painlessly broke off. She could still chew meat with the best of 'em until her passing at 94.

Photo borrwed from Corbis.

It's OK To Hate Me If It Makes You Feel Better

2007-09-19T10:10:00.001-07:00

Sometimes even I can't believe what a freakin' RIDICULOUS *job* I have.

I get paid to do this stuff...

Stuart does mortgages. Pretty damned good at it, too. Knowing he's a serious numbers guy, you'd probably expect 'im to be a total stuffed shirt.

I think his asking me to do this to his likeness for a PowerPoint presentation has pretty effectively blown that stereotype to oblivion.

I also got to deface some artificially-chocolate-flavored Frankencandy which always puts a smile on my face. He's going to wrap these labels around a bunch of the bars to leave behind as a kind of *edible* business card.
Though I don't condone actually *eating* said Frankencandy, (I endorse Dagoba and Vosges,) I think it's a really cool idea and, of course, lots of fun for me and that is what matters most, after all.

Yes. I said I get Paid to do this.

I KNOW!! It's just crazy!

Man. Not finishing college is really paying off!

Thanks to Stuart and all my other clients who let me play on their behalf and give me money for it.

Now, to reassure you I don't waste a single penny of my clients' precious payments, I must be off to order that case of Dagoba Milagros Single Origin chocolate bars I've had my eye on...

A Soapbox Moment

2007-09-18T14:25:00.000-07:00

If you have spent more than about 30 seconds reading my blog, you know that procuring *clean* food is one of my top priorities. Moreover, I also endeavor to be eternally vigilant in rooting out the secrets of fake "food" products Evildoers (no, Evil is not too strong a word to use here) sell to an unsuspecting public.

I call it "Blue Food."

Blue Food is the stuff that exists solely for the purpose of making the commercial "food" industry more money and resembles NOTHING found in nature.

I call it that because BLUE has become the universally recognized color for artificially flavored RASPBERRY anything. Need I remind you... Raspberries are RED.

There is even green ketchup... also purple if you prefer... and a whole synthetically produced rainbow of colors of "food" marketed to us, but especially our kids. They don't care what it might do to your body, or that of your growing child, only that they can produce something so *fun* and different that your kiddo will BEG you to buy it.

The newest abomination that falls into this category I noticed in a commercial on Nickelodeon and is, in my estimation, the most unnatural combination of unhealthy substances I have seen marketed to children since strawberry flavored methamphetamine...

Fizzix - Fizzy Yogurt Snack by Yoplait.

We have now entered the age of CARBONATED YOGURT, PEOPLE!!!

Is there a shortage of fizzy, tooth-rotting, gut-inflating swill on the market in the form of soda?

Have we become so bored, overstimulated and irrational we now expect our FOOD to entertain us?

I implore you. It is long past time to say "HELL, NO!" to modern chemistry being sneaked into our food supply simply because we have been lulled into a false sense of security that "well, if they sell it to us, it must be safe, right?" Wake up, folks. As long as somebody gets to make mind-bogglingly HUGE amounts of money on the American Public's addiction to convenient, cheap, "pretty" food AND, as a result, someone else gets to make even MORE money on prescriptions and procedures in the "fight" against the new epidemics of obesity, cancer, anxiety, depression, ADD/ADHD, heart disease... just a second... I'm getting winded here...

Seriously. The list goes on and on of preventable diseases caused or contributed to by Blue Food.

The real capper, though, is Genetically Modified ingredients. You know what your genes do, right? They tell your body what's supposed to go where. How things work. How stuff needs to behave as it applies to making your body function properly... right?

Okay. Now, what do you suppose happens when you introduce a tomato that was given a certain gene of a FISH to make it stay fresh longer in the store?

Don't know?

Neither do the people shoving GMO food into everything from your Doritos, to your ketchup, to your microwaveable TV dinner.

They're everywhere, People, and they matter.

Here's a link to a list showing where some of them are hiding. It's kind of an old list, but don't think its age means a new one would be shorter.

Life is chemistry. You are a whole swirling cocktail of chemicals that make your body work. What do you think happens when you start throwing in a whole mess of substances that your system, and the Earth, were never EVER designed to deal with?

Problems. Big problems. Like health epidemics. Like chemical-resistant strains of pests. Like real foods becoming so expensive and scarce that many people who care about that sort of thing have to make actual choices between spending four dollars for an organically grown tomato or two whole cans of Chef Boyardee.

That's just wrong.

Take control of your health out of the hands of people who don't care about you, or your family, or the planet. Don't eat it if you can't pronounce every single ingredient or read a label and think to yourself, "hmmmm... I wonder what that is?" KNOW WHAT YOU'RE EATING!

OH! And as if more nutrition, better health and supporting more responsible farming practices isn't good enough... REAL FOOD TASTES BETTER! That alone is a great reason to abandon Blue Food for good!

Okay. I'm stepping off my soapbox now.

If you'll excuse me, I feel strangely compelled to go hug my cows.

Peas, out.