Damn Yankee

Bridgewater Raft Race - 2010

2010-05-03T08:11:00.007-04:00

I have a guest writer today, my wonderful Sweetie. He wrote this for his Facebook page, and I thought it was so good I would honor him here. (That, and I'm too lazy to write my own.) More photos can be seen at http://goo.gl/bdp0

***

Having run the usual gauntlet of law enforcers in Woodstock we pulled in to the anything-goes cantina atmosphere of the Bridgewater Raft Race.

We unloaded our simple rig and registered. The race, now in it's 36th year is growing in popularity and there were about 50 "boats". I drew poorly, getting a starting position of 42. We were there early so we observed the melée of last minute construction by many motley crews.

Pipsqueak dressed smartly with a wetsuit and grass skirt while I sported safariwear, a pith helmet and "binoculars" fashioned from a couple of empty Bud "Pounders" we'd picked up on our Green Up day rounds. Cameras and videographers were in abundance so we hung around the boat to hang ten on demand. We also spoke with some returning entrants from Boston and NYC. Seems I'm not the only flatlander with a taste for the offbeat.

The entry forms read "no alcohol please" but by the looks of many of the entrants we have a literacy problem in Vermont. Even the racemaster interrupted his reading of the rules for a "social" which became the euphemism of the day. We walked around looking at the wild creations and, better, wildlife. If Pip learned some new words she didn't tell me.

The rules state that the hulls and paddles must not be commercially built and that crews provide the only power. Beyond that, pretty much anything goes.

A raft race vet informed us that the early races were started with the firing of a Colt Special and the awards were rocks taken from the river. A loaner cannon (the usual one was lost in action this past year) shattered the silence and the race was on.

Starting near last and with the river a bit low (or is it always this way?) we were caught up in a bollix of rafts. Everyone bumped rocks here and there, some lost parts or coolers (horror of horrors!) and some sank.

We soon found deeper water and read the riffles to stay off the stones. What became immediately clear was that Pip was not in this for a casual float downstream. Every raft was a challenge to be passed. It was crucial to be on the lookout for submerged boulders; drift over one and the craft stops until dislodged. Pip is a chatty sort and, being young and beguiling attracted the attentions of other rafters as we drew close. Being her father I have learned to ignore such attentions, if only briefly, and stayed on task. It wasn't long before our opponents were hung up on a stone and we poled by them. I dubbed the strategy "distract and attack" and Pip fell off the raft in laughter. "Keep going Dada", she said as she pulled herself aboard, "I can get back on, just keep on paddling".

We did a lot of passing. One longboat was constantly dogging us, but his craft had a sink/bail cycle every 10 minutes allowing us to stay ahead.

We crossed the finish line in just under an hour feeling both spent and triumphant. At the awards ceremony the winner received a $100 cash prize. Pipsqueak, as the youngest entrant, also received a prize, a family gift certificate for one month at the new Upper Valley Aquatic Center, value $127!

Starting from 42nd position we had maneuvered and powered our way past 26 competitors finishing sweet 16th!

Less Binge, More Purge

2010-01-12T13:10:00.003-05:00

No, I'm not considering an eating disorder...

This time of year, every year, I feel like getting rid of stuff. I'm not sure if it's all the loot that just arrived by Santa's sleigh or being "stuck in the house" for winter, but I definitely have the urge to purge. This is the sort of thing that I have to harness and ride when I get it because when I'm not in the mood, it's a pretty daunting task, and if I'm feeling a little melancholy or nostalgic, it's hard to get rid of things.

This week, I've been going through stuff in my office area which has been a WRECK for months. It'll take some time and dedication to get through all the rubble, but I made a good dent and a lot of stuff got tossed. Pipsqueak got inspired when she got home from school one day and cleaned out some of her art supplies that are kept near my office area. She found a good pile of stuff to get rid of, too. I noticed all the Disney Princess stuff is going... the end of an era.

I also feel like buying less. That should be easy; stay out of stores and delete online sale announcements without looking at them. I need to start shopping in my own house. I have plenty of books and craft supplies, which are my weaknesses, so it's time to start reading them and using them instead of buying more. I'll still allow myself the occasional thrift shop spree. Yesterday I went to Border's and TJ Maxx looking for a present for a birthday party. The only thing I bought was the present even though there were lots of great sales going on. The reward of shopping less will be two-fold: I'll have less stuff coming in the house and I'll be saving money.

My Return

2010-01-05T12:56:00.006-05:00

Boy, did I ever lose my writing mojo. I lost my mojo for a lot of things, but I've pulled it together for nearly every else. During the Christmas season, I had so many things that I wanted to share with you, but I couldn't seem to get them out of my head and unto your screen.

Pipsqueak got Wii Fit Plus for Christmas, which includes several games, one being Snowball Fight. One of the opponents is in a snowman costume. The first time you hit him, he falls over, the costume falls away and he pops up in human form looking dazed and shaking his head. You have to hit him again while he's dazed, before he recovers and redons the costume in order to win that point. That is a metaphor for my life the past few months. I was hit by a friend's death, and before I could shake that off, I was hit by another.

I don't make New Year's resolutions because I don't need a date on a calendar to dictate when I need or should make a change, and the changes I make are usually long term rather than for a year. This year, I felt like I needed a fresh start, and I hoped that New Year's Eve would be sort of a magic portal from a year that sucked to a brighter tomorrow. Of course, New Year's Day came, and I didn't feel any different. But I did realize that I don't feel as bad as I did a month ago.

I think I'll still make some changes... a few things that will make me happier: lose a little weight (as soon as all the holiday goodies are gone), exercise a little more (just because it feels good and I'll be healthier), paint a few things that need painting, purge a lot of stuff that I don't need, spend a little more time being creative (which includes writing here), finish several projects that have long been in progress and experiment with cooking more.

I also need to start accentuating the positive. I've never had to do that before, because I've always been a positive-thinking person, but I've felt way too negative lately. There are a lot of positive things in my life and a lot to be happy about. Those are the things that I've got to move to the forefront of my mind.

I've been away for awhile, but I'm on my way back.

Remembering Mark

2009-12-07T21:33:00.007-05:00

How do I say goodbye to someone that has been a part of my life for almost as long as I remember... someone whose life was too short? There were more smiles to smile, more hugs to give, more gossip to share, more times to see him throw back his head in laughter.

It all started back in kindergarten. I was freakishly tall... a head and shoulders taller than everyone else, except for Mark. We saw eye to eye. We were the token tall kids that got to do everything that no one else could reach. I was drawn to him like a moth to a flame because we were alike, he was kind and gentle, and when he smiled, he made me smile. Back then he said he wanted to be a dentist, so I decided I would be a dental assistant so I could work with him and be with him always.

We lived with only three houses between us and the route we walked to school ran somewhere down the middle. I would wait for him at the intersection, and we'd walk the remaining quarter mile together. After school, we'd walk home together. One particularly brazen day at age five, I kissed him at the intersection (on the cheek, as I recall) and ran the rest of the way home. Mark told his grandmother, who lived with him and his family. She said I was a wild girl, and he shouldn't be spending time with me. (I didn't hear that part until we were adults, so obviously he didn't heed her warning.)

As early, as elementary school, I knew he was special in a sophisticated, refined, vintage-y way. He always gave beautiful Valentine cards instead of those juvenile things most gave. He had an attention to detail and creativity that was different than most boys. His handwriting was impeccable. His clothes were always clean and never in disarray... shirt tucked in, collar straight, pants hanging perfectly, all layered in the preppy style that was the rage then. His hair never got too long and it was always neatly combed. I loved all these things about him, and it wasn't long before other girls noticed those things were pretty special, too. By then, I was over my crush and we had a strong bond of friendship.

As tweens and teens, we spent a great deal of time at each other's house or on the phone together. We were in most of the same activities together: band, chorus, pep band, drama, photography club, prom committee, yearbook committee, National Honor Society. Since we were part of the same clique, we went to the same parties. He was ever present in my life... we were in each other's orbit. I remember disco dancing to the Saturday Day Night Fever album on his porch. We did homework together and hammered out school papers on my Underwood manual typewriter that was so heavy that I'm surprised it didn't fall through the table and the floor. We shared secrets and gossip... we shared our lives.

He went away to college; I did not. But when he was home, we'd get together and catch up. Close to Christmas, I'd go to his family's house. He'd put on the Charlie Brown Christmas album, and we'd share an eggnog while we exchanged gifts, stories and gossip. That tradition continued long into adulthood.

We knew each other so well... 4o years of living, sharing, loving. We had numerous nicknames for each other. There were private jokes where a word or two could start the laughter.

Just over a week ago, while on the way to the hospital because of pneumonia, he went into cardiac arrest. After several days, it was clear he wouldn't recover. His family and partner said goodbye, and the machines that were keeping him alive were turned off. I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I wanted more talk and laughter and hugs. I wanted more reminiscing and more memories. The pain of his death is so intense to me that it feels physical. I know that time will make the pain fade, but there are things in my life that will always remind me of him, and I will carry him in my heart forever.

This comes too soon, but goodbye, Mark, my dear friend. I hope you knew how much I love you. Too much time has past since I told you last.

I'm Thankful for... (the final chapter)

2009-11-25T20:12:00.003-05:00

I try to take time in everyday life to appreciate things and not save it for a special holiday. But then, it's usually just in my head and not shared. Today, I'll share with you, a few more things I'm thankful for...

Where I Live - From the country, to the state, to the town, to my house, they are all special to me. I am proud to be an American. For while, I wasn't feeling that way, but it's starting to come back. I love Vermont... the changing of the seasons, the rural atmosphere, cows and maple syrup. I live in a town where strangers wave to each other when they meet on a road, hold doors for each other and everyone helps one another when it's needed. I love living at the end of a dirt road where I can open the door and let the dog out, and wild animals roam in my yard.

My Friends - I have friends that I see frequently, some I see once or twice a year and a few that our only communication is through Christmas cards. Thanks to Facebook, I have friends I haven't seen in a quarter century. They're all have a place in my heart because of the memories we share and the laughs we've had.

Food and Drink - I can't imagine living in a place where I ate the same tasteless food every day and had nothing to drink but dirty water. I love good food and drink... the preparation, the flavor and the ritual. We are so lucky to be able to get fresh food in such a wide variety.

Environmental Conservation - I'm so happy that efforts are being made to protect our planet and wildlife. Nature is so important to me. While I don't live a totally green life (it's very hard to do), I do make an effort.

And a final few things... music, theater, laughter, the power of a hug, a comfortable bed, instant access to information, good health and when I don't have that, good medicine, thrift stores...

and you, my blogger friends, for your comments that keep me writing. Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

I'm Thankful for My Mother

2009-11-24T14:31:00.004-05:00

My mom had me when she was 43 years old and raised me on her own. As a child, I was way too busy having fun and being a kid to realize what a struggle this must have been for her, but now I can appreciate her and her efforts.

We didn't have a lot of money, and I guess I realized that on some level, but I never felt poor or that the essentials were lacking. She always made Christmas special, and while I didn't get EVERYTHING I asked for, no kid should.

She taught me about frugality, although she was probably frugal to the extreme. She grew up during the depression which created a pack rat mentality. The two things that I still laugh about was her saving the waxy bags from inside cereal boxes to use instead of new wax paper, and keeping spray nozzles from cans. If she had a faulty one, she could use one from her stash instead of throwing out a can with something in it.

My mom was strong in mind and body. She taught me not to worry... "the worry is always the worst", to think positive thoughts, and to be independent. She could single-handedly move a refrigerator and do small carpentry and plumbing jobs.

Now that she's 88 years old, she is weaker and less sure of herself, but she passed her strength on to me, and I'll use that strength to help her. Just before Pipsqueak was born, I convinced her to sell her house of 35 years and buy the one next door to me. Since then, she's given up driving and says that she thinks she's a burden to me. The fact is that she's a blessing to me, and I'm glad to have her so near so I can frequently see the smile that lit up my days as a child.

***

Tomorrow, I'll be doing a Thanksgiving wrap up with all sorts of things I'm thankful for.

I'm Thankful for My Daughter

2009-11-19T15:50:00.005-05:00

Pipsqueak almost didn't exist. We were rejected from the local hospital's IVF program and were referred to Boston. After two IVF failures there, it was recommended that we consider adoption or a childless life. I pleaded for another chance, and voila! (I really should write about this whole experience in detail sometime.)

Right from the start, she was a happy, adaptable, easy baby... except for the part where she didn't really like sleeping for more than twenty minutes for something like three years. She embraces life and whatever it brings her. She's kind, thoughtful and naturally funny. I love spending time with her, doing things with her and going places with her.

Living with her is like living in a musical because she breaks into original song and dance numbers several times a day. It could be an upbeat, "Wow, These Brownies Taste Good" or a more soulful, "My Mom and Day Love Me, and I Love Them."Every night before I go to bed, I go in her room to check on her and adjust her covers. I stand there for a moment just looking at her sleep, and I feel my heart swell with love. I am so lucky to have Pipsqueak in my life.

I'm Thankful for My Husband

2009-11-17T11:06:00.005-05:00

I'm a lucky woman to have found Sweetie. I'm not saying he's perfect, but he's perfect for me. We've known each other for eighteen years, together for thirteen and married for eleven. He's my best friend and the first person I want to share everything with. He understands me about 75% of the time (which is even better than it sounds since I understand myself only about 90% of the time).

He makes me laugh, and I want him around all the time. He does some crazy things, loves adventure and doing things differently than most people. I guess I could say that he likes to play.

He's very handy with computers, and good at other little mechanical, electrical, plumbing and carpentry jobs, but he's smart enough to hire someone for the big jobs. His mind works like a calculator which will be good when Pipsqueak's math homework gets too complicated for me.

We agree on most things and he respects my opinions when we don't. On the rare occasions when we argue, I can't stay mad at him, even if I really want to.

He's a wonderful father... devoted and patient. Pipsqueak loves spending time with him.

My life became much more centered, happy and fun when Sweetie came into it, and I certainly wouldn't want be without him now.

Introducing the "I'm Thankful" Series

2009-11-16T21:07:00.003-05:00

I've had two weeks off to recover from that month of writing everyday. It's time to get back at it. Starting tomorrow, I'm going to write each weekday until Thanksgiving about something for which I'm thankful. If you want to join me, I'd be... well... thankful.

Last Minute Halloween Costume Ideas

2009-10-31T12:17:00.003-04:00

Maybe you were busy and Halloween sort of snuck up on you, or you got a last minute invite to a Halloween party. There's no need to join the crush at iParty and empty your wallet while you're there. Here are a few costume ideas that you might be able to pull together in a few minutes with stuff around your house.

Lame Excuse – post its that say “traffic”, “dog ate it”, “it’s in the mail”, etc. and walk with crutches or a cane.

Cereal Killer – attach empty mini cereal boxes to yourself with plastic knives sticking out of them

Smartie Pants – attach smartie candies to your pants

Static Cling – pin socks, bras, underwear and dryer sheets to your clothes; tease hair if possible

Q-tip – wear white top and pants and stick cotton balls to a stocking cap and cotton balls on some old shoes.

Gum Stuck on Shoe – dress all in pink and attach a shoe or flip flop to your head

Leftovers – wrap yourself in aluminum foil

No Pest Strip – dress in all yellow and stick rubber bugs to your clothes

Tourist – big hat, camera around neck, fanny pack, Hawaiian shirt, shorts, crew socks and sneakers; maybe carry a map

Deviled Egg – dress all in white, attach a big yellow circle to the front of your shirt, wear devil horns and carry a pitchfork

Dr. Pepper – wear scrubs or a doctors jacket with accessories such as a stethoscope, mask, etc., and attach pepper packets to your clothes

Bright Idea – dress in yellow or something boldly colored and write “IDEA” on your chest

Identity Crisis – buy a box of “Hello My Name Is” stickers. Put different names on all of them and stick them all over your clothes

Someone You Can Count On – dress in black, cut out numbers from white felt and attached them to your clothes randomly

Publisher’s Clearing House Sweepstakes Prize Patrol – wear a blazer, carry a bunch of balloons and a piece of poster board that you’ve made look like a check

Shot In The Dark – dress in black and wear a shot glass around your neck

Movie Theater Floor – cut out a piece of cardboard that will cover most of the front of your body, paint it black and attach some straps so you can wear it in front of you. Stick on theater candy, popcorn and empty drink cups.

A Salt and Battery – glue a salt shaker and a battery on a baseball hat and wear it. Also put black makeup around an eye, maybe wear a sling or use crutches.

Have fun and Happy Halloween!

Halloween Photo

2009-10-30T21:19:00.002-04:00

So tired, so cold, so wanna go to bed. I'll leave you with Pipsqueak as the beheaded queen and me as Raggedy Andy.

Halloween Q and A

2009-10-29T22:19:00.004-04:00

I needed an easy post tonight, since I've been crazy busy getting ready for Halloween. Thanks Irregular Tammie, for posting this meme.

Which urban legend scared the bejezus out of you as a kid?
There were so many urban legends and most of them centered around a shopping mall. I was a gullible country bumpkin then and believe them all, and we didn't have Snopes back then to debunk these things. The scariest was probably the truck driver following the woman in the car and he keeps honking the horn which terrifies her. She finally pulls over where she feels safe and gets out of the car. The truck driver comes over and tells her that a man was hiding in her backseat and he kept sitting up, ready to attack her with a knife, but when he honked the horn, he'd duck down again. They check the backseat of the car and there's no man there anymore, but he left the knife behind.

Which horror movie has the best premise?
I don't watch horror movies because they aren't fun for me. If I must watch them, I like the old ones like "House of Wax".

What is the most disappointing "treat" to receive in your bag on Halloween night?
Apples or hard candy.

What's the best non-candy item to receive?
Cash. But I guess that house would be really busy. Realistically, pencils or stickers.

Did a monster live in your closet when you were a child?
No, but snakes lived under my bed.

Which supernatural creature sent chills up your spine when you were ten and still does?
I'm not sure they are considered supernatural, but I'm terrified of flying monkeys. I ask Pipsqueak to hold me when they're shown on "Wizard of Oz". Werewolves are pretty scary, too. I guess it's furry things for me.

Which supernatural creature makes you yawn?
Zombies. They move so slow that I think they'd be really easy to get away from.

What's your favorite Halloween decoration?
Jack o'lanterns. I love carving them.

If you could be anywhere on Halloween, where would you be?
Salem, Massachusetts. I just saw a bit on TV about the Salem witch trials and the huge Halloween celebration they have there. It sounds crowded, but fun.

What's the scariest book you've read so far this year?
I haven't read any scary books this year, but there are two scariest in my life... Intensity by Dean Koontz and a short story by Stephen King called "The Mist".

Haunted houses or haunted hay rides?
Neither because I don't really like being scared and feeling trapped in my scariness.

Which Stephen King novel/movie would you least like to find yourself trapped in?
Definitely "The Mist". It's about creatures in the fog. "The Cell", about people turning into murdering maniacs because of something on their cellphone, would be pretty scary, too.

Which is creepiest: evil dolls, evil pets, evil children?
Dolls don't scare me because I could get rid of them with a hammer, a washing machine or a car. Tough call between pets and children, but I'll go with children.

Now, it's time for me to go to bed and have nightmares.

Wet Felted Pumpkins

2009-10-28T20:37:00.005-04:00

I was itching to do a little wet felting with wool (get it? itch. wool), so when we went to the Vermont Sheep and Wool Festival last month, I bought some orange roving. Roving is fiber fanatic talk for wool that has been cleaned, carded (combed) and possibly dyed.

We found a ball in the dog toy basket that was the size we wanted... slightly smaller than a baseball. The ball had to have a smooth surface so it would slip out easily later. We then wrapped the roving around the ball in a couple of layers, dipped it in warm soapy water and rubbed and smoothed, rubbed and smoothed until it looked felted and uniform without any visible seams. Then we rinsed all the soap out under cool running water and squeezed it out in paper towels.

I cut a small incision that was large enough to slip the ball out using an Exacto knife. It didn't need to be a huge hole because the wool stretches some when it's wet. Then we left it overnight to dry thoroughly.
Once it was dry, we cut a brown stem and a green leaf from felt and sewed them to the top from the inside so the stitches don't show too much. Finally, we packed the inside with stuffing and needle felted the seam closed. A felting needle has barbs on the pointed end that are barely visible to the eye. When it's repeatedly jabbed through wool, it pushes and pulls the fibers into one another until it's felted together. I let Pipsqueak do this making sure she kept her fingers clear. One jab of that needle and she wouldn't be interested in trying it again.

Here is the finished pumpkin. I'd like to try needle felting some black yarn to make the vertical ribs, but no time now. Pipsqueak wants to give one to each of her teachers this week.

Beer Braised Sirloin Tips with Mushroom Sauce

2009-10-27T21:18:00.005-04:00

This is a great recipe for a work/school night. I had dinner ready in under an hour tonight, and it was lick-your-plate yummy. This is another recipe that calls for 1 cup of dark beer, so buy the big bottle and sip the rest of the bottle while you cook.

1 t dry mustard
1 t brown sugar
1/2 t dried thyme
1/2 t ground ginger
1/2 t paprika
kosher salt
1 1/2 pounds sirloin tip steaks
1/2 pound fresh mushrooms, preferably half shiitakes and half crimini
2 T olive oil
2 T unsalted butter
4 scallions, thinly sliced, white and light green parts separated from dark green, but using both
1 c dark ale or porter, such as Guinness
2 t Worcestershire sauce

Mix the mustard, brown sugar, thyme, ginger, paprika and 1 t salt in a large bowl until well combined. Add steaks and toss until well coated.

Remove and discard stems from shiitakes, if using, and trim stem ends from the crimini. Wipe all mushrooms clean and slice 1/4" thick.

Heat oil in a large skillet over medium-high heat. When oil is shimmering , add half the steaks and sear them until nicely browned, 2 to 3 minutes per side (the steaks will brown quickly because of the sugar in the spice mix). Transfer to a plate and repeat with remaining steaks.

Reduce heat to medium, and 1 T butter to the pan, and let melt. Add the mushroom and scallion whites. Cook, stirring occasionally until mushrooms soften and begin to brown, 4 to 6 minutes. Pour in beer and Worcestershire sauce. Scrape bottom of the pan, and raise heat to medium, bring to a boil and cook uncovered until liquid is reduced by half, about 4 minutes.

Return steak and any accumulated juices to the pan, cover tightly with lid and reduce heat to low simmer. Braise, turning the steaks after 8 minutes, until tender and cooked through, about 14 minutes total. Transfer steaks to plate or serving platter.

Cut the remaining 1T butter into four pieces and swirl them into the sauce. Stir in the scallion greens. Serve steak topped with sauce, along with mashed potatoes and steamed broccoli.

Serves four.

DMV

2009-10-26T22:30:00.000-04:00

I can't do it. I can't not post. I told Sweetie that I was taking the night off, but NaBloWriMo guilt set in. So how about a quickie? ...

I went to Vermont DMV today to renew my license. I hear people complain about DMVs a lot... the lines are long, the wait interminable, the employees cranky and clueless. I've got to hand it to Vermont DMV because none of those things are true. I was in and out in six minutes, there were two people ahead of me, and the woman waiting on me was friendly and efficient.

I have only one complaint. My photo looks horrible. The focus is soft, the lighting is horrible, and I should have lifted my chin so it wouldn't look like I had two or three of them. But I suppose at $45 for four years, I shouldn't be expecting something framable.

And I have a confession to make. My weight on my license is what it was when I got my license when I was sixteen years old. I'm now ~~ten~~ ~~twenty~~ thirty pounds heavier, but I won't change it. It says "weight", not "actual weight", so we'll just say it's a "goal weight."

So, tell me what your DMV is like and whether or not the weight is accurate on your license.

Long Trail Brewery

2009-10-25T20:24:00.003-04:00

I was tempted to skip today's post, but my conscience got the better of me. Here's why I'm feeling like such a slacker...
I had a beer sampler with my lunch at the Long Trail Brewery in Bridgewater, Vermont... six 4 ounce glasses of sedation. The selection is (back row right to left) Blackberry Wheat, Long Trail Ale, Hibernator, (front row right to left) Double Bag, IPA and Imperial Porter.

My favorites were Double Bag and IPA. I've always been a fan of IPA, but this was my first taste of Double Bag. It's only recently become available in stores having only been served on tap at the brewery. It figures I would like it since it's 7.2% APV. A standard beer is around 4% APV.

My third choice was Hibernator, a rich flavorful brew without being too dark. The standard Ale was good, but a little boring in comparison to the other choices. Blackberry Wheat was too light and flavorless and Imperial Porter (or as I renamed it "Imperial Storm Trooper") was too dark. I'm just starting to enjoy dark beers. I'm a fan of Guinness, but this was too bitter for me.

Not only does the Long Trail Brewery have good beer, but the pub fare is great too. I had a hamburger cooked just the way I asked. I hate being asked how I want it, and order medium rare to have it arrive well done because they're afraid of being sued if I get sick. I would rather sign a waiver than eat a shoe leather burger. But LTB throws caution to the wind and serves a burger that's pink in the middle. The fries are perfect too... nice a crunchy on the inside.

With that said, I'm going to go back to slacking for the rest of the night.

Dartmouth Homecoming Parade and Bonfire 2009

2009-10-24T20:59:00.000-04:00

We've been attending and loving this event for 13 years, maybe missing one or two years. The parade kicks off with all of Dartmouth's athletic teams, from football to golf, riding in the back of pick up trucks and pelting candy to kids on the sidelines. Note to self: next year wear a hardhat. Some of the trucks were so overloaded with musclebound athletes that their tires looked flat. This is followed by a march of the attending alumni. It ends with the raucous run of the freshman class up Main Street to the green.

At this point, we seek refreshment somewhere for a half hour to forty-five minutes during the speeches. This year is was hot cider and cupcakes at the bookstore cafe. We went back outside to a drizzle, but we didn't let that dampen our spirits.

We arrived on the green and found a good spot along the caution tape just in time for the lighting of the bonfire. The freshman continued their run in a circle around the bonfire until the left sides of their bodies were well roasted.

It all sounds a bit weird when I write it, but it sure is fun. Don't you wish you were there?

My Beta is Constipated

2009-10-23T15:42:00.000-04:00

Now there is a title of a blog post I didn't think I'd ever write. I looked at our beta, Kip, when we got home today. At first, I thought he was dead since he was laying at the top of the water on his side, but when he saw me he got excited and started swimming around. He wasn't swimming quite right though and he looked bloated. I confirmed that Pipsqueak hadn't fed him lately without telling me, so it wasn't overfeeding. I thought he was a goner, but I hit the internet anyway.

Come to find out constipation is the most common problem in betas, and most longterm beta owners are bound to have it to deal with at one time or another. It can be deadly, but luckily, there is treatment and it's simple. Cook a frozen pea until it's mushy, put some on the end of a toothpick and drag it through the water to tempt the beta to eat it. Don't feed until the bloating is down and the blockage has passed. Kip took his medicine like a good patient. I'll give him another dose of pea tomorrow to be on the safe side. It says he should be better in a day or two. If not we'll have to try plan two, an epsom salt bath. I'm hoping the pea treatment works.

Here's Kip on a better day. He didn't want to be photographed all bloated and clumsy.

High Waters and Thunder Thighs

2009-10-22T20:00:00.003-04:00

Lately I've been obsessed with the length of Pipsqueak's pants. It seems like at least twice weekly I'm telling her that her pants are too short and she won't be wearing them again. Strangely, this obsession is rooted some three decades or more ago.

There wasn't a lot of money in my household growing up. Frankly, I have no idea how we had what we did have. I was an exceptionally tall kid and grew fast until I stopped in my mid-teens. It was hard for my mom to keep me in pants long enough, so I would sometimes get teased about my short pants. "Expecting a flood?" is what I got asked most. It didn't bother me to the point where I huddled in a corner crying, but I didn't like it.

Once I started buying my own clothes, I was always sure my pants were long enough. Now it appears that I'm trying to protect Pipsqueak from the same fate of being teased. Of course, there are a million other things she could be teased about, but it won't be short pants. Not on my watch!

Another moment in history that scarred me for life was in eighth grade. I was sitting on the bleachers next to my female P.E. teacher waiting for my turn in whatever torture she was dispensing in the gym that day. She slapped my thigh with her hand and said something to the effect that I was carrying some extra weight there. Just what a barely teen girl needs to hear, right?! To this day, I hate my thighs. When I was going through a divorce and lost twenty pounds from the stress, I looked gaunt, but I still thought my thighs were fat.

Childhood teasing can be brutal and even drive a kid to suicide, but even the little stuff can't haunt them for life.

My High School Graduation Letter To Me

2009-10-21T20:08:00.004-04:00

It's time for a little time travel. Have you ever said, "I wish I knew then what I know now."? Wouldn't it be cool if you could have received a letter on the day of your high school graduation from an older you? Here is what I'd write to me...

June 1983

Dear Betts:

Friendship... You have a lot of wonderful friends and many you will lose touch with unless you make an effort. Do make the effort. These are special people and many won't see old age. Friends you make in the future will have no idea who you are now and the cliques you were in. In the adult world jocks and nerds work together, cheerleaders and band members are moms in the same playground. It just doesn't matter anymore.

Money... Don't waste it. Think before you buy. Don't become of a victim of trends. Wear classic, well made clothes. Don't bother playing the lottery; you aren't going to win. Open an IRA as soon as possible. Life insurance is usually a rip off. Invest in Apple as soon as possible. Google is a good bet, too.

Work... Do something you can feel passionate about or there are going to be a lot of days that you don't feel like getting up to go to work. Find something where you can be creative or think creatively.

Love... You've got to kiss a lot of frogs before you can appreciate the handsome prince. Don't fall in love with love; make sure you're in love with the person. He should make you laugh regularly and heartily. And think of yourself and what the relationship does for you instead of always what you can do for the relationship.

Children... Don't wait so long that it's too late, but wait long enough that you know you you're with the right father for your children.

Health... Sit up straight. Wear sunscreen. Make exercise a habit. Be careful of weak ankles. Enjoy shrimp, lobster and crab because you might not always be able to.

Beauty... Again, wear sunscreen. DON'T PERM YOUR HAIR!!! And don't cut it really short and spike the top.

Happiness... Don't let anyone drag you down day after day. If they try, remove yourself from their life. You're a happy person, and it won't take much effort to stay that way.

Even if you don't follow my/your advice, by middle age you'll be over the humps, living happily, and loving life.

Always, Betts

What advise would you give yourself?

Technologically Challenged

2009-10-20T20:40:00.004-04:00

This is an experiment necessitated by desperation. My computer isn't working, so I'm attempting to churn out a post on my iPhone. I've come this far on NaBloWriMo; I don't want to fail now. This is no easy task and there is no app for this. It took me five attempts just to accurately his the "New Post" button. Just to make things a little more interesting, the 20% battery warning came up a few moments ago. Yes, just pile on the pressure while I'm typing with my thumbs. I can't go back and read what I've written without pressing the "Done" button. Just shoot me now and put me out of my misery. This says a few things about me: I'm dogged in my determination, tenacious as a terrier and when I say I'm going to do something, I do it. I'm also not foolish, so I'm going to attempt to hit "publish" before my battery dies and I lose everything.

Halftime

2009-10-19T20:04:00.003-04:00

It is football season, but I feel like I'm stuck in halftime. I don't mean that my life is all cheerleaders and marching bands. Wouldn't that be nice? No, I mean that everything is only half done. The laundry is washed and dried, but not folded and put away. Four out of seven raised garden beds are cleaned up. Three out of eight dining chairs are recovered. Just over half of my windows are washed. And that's probably not even half of the things that are half done. I won't even mention the knitting and crafts projects that are half finished.

I can't figure out if I'm busier (doesn't feel like it), more scattered, distracted or unfocused (could be), or unmotivated and tired (very likely). There are so many things that need doing that I dabble here and there and get many things started and nothing finished. I'm also setting my daily goals too high, so it's hard to feel satisfied when everything isn't accomplished.

How do I fix it? I need to go back to my lists. To-do lists work really well for me, and I get a sense of accomplishment when things get crossed off. I've also got to work hard at seeing a project through from start to finish, and I'll start with finishing up projects that are already started. If I do this, I think I'll feel more on track in a week.

On a positive note, I'm a little more than halfway through NaBloWriMo and I haven't missed a day. Writing every day is a daunting task, and I'll be scaling back when the month is over, but it did give me my writing mojo back.

Up, Up and Away

2009-10-18T20:33:00.003-04:00

Early this evening, I went out the backdoor to get some wood for the fire when I saw a hot air balloon ready to touch down in the field. I hurried in and shouted with excitement to come outside quickly. I scrambled for the camera while Pipsqueak scrambled for shoes, we raced down the hill.

They wanted to move the balloon across the field and closer to the truck, so they offered Pipsqueak a tethered ride. She was incredibly excited since she was just telling me a couple of days ago that she wanted to ride in a balloon. They went up maybe thirty or forty feet while they moved the balloon about 500 yards. Afterward she was presented with a picture of the balloon to take to school tomorrow and a bottle of champagne.

We told them they can drop in anytime.

Pumpkins

2009-10-17T19:22:00.004-04:00

My garden was nearly a total bust this year. The herbs were strong, and we had a bounty of green beans and sugar snap peas, but the the rest... not so good. The tomatoes got late blight which happened in most of the northeast. (Late blight was what caused the potato famine in Ireland way back when.) Everything else was pretty unproductive. This was mostly due to an over-abundance of rain, a cold summer and not enough sun.

I had about eight pumpkin plants but only had two measly pumpkins... one green one slightly larger than a softball and one greenish orange about the size of a cantaloupe. These were not jack 0'lantern material, so today we went pumpkin shopping.

We could have gone to any area supermarket to buy them, but we wanted a fun experience, and we wanted more hot cider and cider donuts, so we went back to Wellwood Orchards where we did our apple picking.

Pipsqueak, my fashion maven, informed me that she wanted to wear orange and green this morning so she'd coordinate with the pumpkins, and she pulled out the pumpkin hat I made for her.

She wasted no time choosing a large one for me to carve and smaller one for her to carve. (We won't be carving until a couple of days before Halloween though.) She pulled the wagon holding our pumpkins, 1/2 peck of apples and a 2 year old local cheddar cheese to the car.

I rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion. - Henry David Thoreau

Dirty Martini

2009-10-16T20:24:00.006-04:00

I've been thinking about dirty martinis ever since yesterday's post. I'm going to make one in a few minutes, so I thought I'd share my secrets to a good martini.

The first time I tasted a martini, I hated it. I thought I'd sooner drink battery acid. Actually, I thought maybe I was drinking battery acid. But there are so many ways to make a standard martini that you have to experiment a little to find out what works for you... gin, vodka, shaken, stirred, dry, dirty. Mine is a shaken, very dirty, very dry gin martini. Let's go over a couple of points.

Why shaken? I feel that the martini is colder when it's shaken with ice. I shake mine so long that my fingers are in danger of frost nip and there are shards of ice in the drink. The die hard stirrers claim that shaking bruises the gin. The way I shake, my gin is beaten to a pulp.

Why very dry? Vermouth, or lack thereof, makes the martini dry. I'm not a big fan of vermouth, so I pour some in the martini glass, swirl it around to coat it and pour it back into the bottle. I'd like a fancy vermouth mister, but I haven't found one yet. Some say you should merely introduce the gin, very politely, of course. "Mr. Gin, meet Mr. Vermouth."

Why very dirty? Because I LOVE the taste of olives. Olive juice is what makes it dirty. This really makes the drink for me. I usually run out of juice in the olive bottle before the olives are gone even though I use three olives for garnish. (I sometimes stuff my olives with blue cheese.) When we were vacationing in St. Petersburg, Florida, I found a big bottle of Dirty Martini Juice in a liquor store. I packed it in my suitcase surrounded by clothes and hoped it survived the baggage handlers. It did.

A friend of mine told me that I could be a totally despicable person (which I'm not) and he'd still want to spend time with me because I make such a good martini. Here's my not-so-secret recipe...

Swirl dry vermouth in the glass and pour out.

In a cocktail shaker half filled with ice, combine 2 1/2 ounces of gin and a healthy splash of olive juice to taste. Shake well. Strain into glass with three olives.

Martinis are like women; one isn't enough and three is too many. - Len Goodman

Cheers!

Google Tag

2009-10-15T20:06:00.021-04:00

Thanks to The Lilac Grove, I've got a fun post for today... just go to Google images and choose photos to go with each category. I think this is about all I can handle in my current fatigued-from-the-day state.

1. Your favorite beverage.

I love a dirty martini... two at the most. Three, I'm under the table. Four, I'm under the host. I believe Dorothy Parker said that. Of course, I'm not having these regularly (even though I'd like to).

Here's one more beverage I love that I have only once in awhile... a caramel latte.

2. Your hometown.

I was born in Vermont, but I spent most of my formative years in North Walpole, New Hampshire. It's a small town right on the Connecticut River which separates New Hampshire from Vermont, so even when I wasn't living in Vermont, I could look out almost any window in my house and look at it.

3. Your favorite television show.

4. Your occupation.

But I don't look this good doing it.

5. First Car. A 1984 Ford Tempo. It didn't exactly make me look cool, but it got me from point A to point B.

6. Favorite Dish

Sushi. Of course, it would be something that I can't make.

7. A celebrity you've been told you resemble.

When I did community theater, I was compared to Geena Davis in a newpaper review. It was one of my proudest moments.

8. Celebrity on your "To Do" List.

This was tough since I'd choose Sweetie over any celebrity. I thought of Hugh Grant, but after that hooker incident, I don't think so. George Clooney was in the running, but the fact that he doesn't settle down with one woman bothers me. So my final answer is Richard Gere.

9. Favorite Children's Toy

I had this game as a kid. I've been looking for one on ebay, but the ones in decent condition have been too rich for my blood. Oh, how I wish I'd kept mine.

10. Any random pic.

I love old Hollywood glamour shots. I'd love to have my photo taken in this manner someday.

11. What are you doing tonight?

Just back from my weekly djembe drum lesson.

That was harder than I thought it was going to be. I think I need a dirty martini while I watch CSI.

Thinking Cap or Shower Cap?

2009-10-14T14:09:00.005-04:00

I didn't really know what to write about today. I blame it on my shower valve... it's new and it's going to take some getting used to. I love my shower time. It's like a sensory deprivation chamber in there... surrounded by four plain white walls and all noise drowned out by the sound of falling water. I get fifteen minutes each day to escape into my own mind and just think.

(This is probably why there are days that I can't remember if I've washed my hair yet or not. And there were the few days not so long ago when I couldn't understand why my new shower gel wasn't getting any lather. I finally looked at the label and saw it was hair conditioner.)

I do my best thinking in the shower. I come up with blog ideas, solve problems, process dreams, and come up with plans. It's a cleansing of body and mind.

About a week ago, I noticed the valve was acting a little wonky... sort of a clunky slip when I turned it off. Last Friday, Sweetie pronounced it dead, so we had to shower in the downstairs bathroom until the plumber could come yesterday. I haven't been getting much thinking done in that shower, because the shower head is set in the wall too low. If I got on my knees to wash my hair, the water pressure seemed to low because I was too far away from the source, so I had to do a partial knee bend or lunge to rinse my hair. It's hard to have a good think when your thighs are starting to burn.

Today, I was back to my perfectly positioned shower head, but the new valve works differently so I was having temperature trouble. I knew that the old one should be turned to 11 o'clock for perfect showering water temperature. It took me at least three adjustments to get it right today, and then I forgot to make a note of where it was turned. I guess tomorrow won't be such a good thinking day either.

Snow!

2009-10-13T10:19:00.003-04:00

In case the calendar wasn't reminder enough, Mother Nature fired a warning shot this morning.

My winterizing list is being prioritized and shifted into hyper drive. This won't last; it'll be gone by this afternoon. The lasting stuff probably won't show up for another month at least.
But never to be outdone for fun, Pipsqueak and Sweetie strapped on the skis and took a couple of runs down the front hill.

We're at about 1100 feet above sea level. The village is at something around 500, so they got rain. When I arrived at school with Pipsqueak this morning, kids were grabbing snow off the roof of my car for a quick snow ball fight.

You Like Me... You Really Like Me

2009-10-11T19:19:00.005-04:00

After I published my post last night, I scrolled down to Feedjit. I like to see who's been reading what on my blog and how they're getting there. I noticed someone had read my post on Mashed Potato Pancakes by getting there from Saveur. I asked myself, "Self, how can that be?" I clicked on the link and up comes my post on Saveur's site with a little blue badge saying "Best of the Web". They even used my photo. I was so excited. I felt like Julie in "Julie and Julia" when she got called by the editor of the New York Times asking for an interview. I know, I know, not as big, but I'm very easily excited.

There's more! When you're at Saveur's website and type Mashed Potato Pancakes into their search box, it's me! Just me! Thank you, thank you, Saveur! I promise to never let my subscription lapse again.

Winterizing

2009-10-11T19:00:00.003-04:00

We had a hard frost last night, and I hear it's going to be down in the 20s tonight. Our most important winter preparation is done; our fire wood is bought and stacked. That was finished in June, but there is still plenty to do...

clean up the last three raised beds in the veggie garden (four are already done)
wash the windows, take out the screens and put the storms down (there are 27 windows in our house)
caulk around some leaky windows
weatherstrip a leaky door
clean out the deck pots and store them away
put away the outdoor toys (bubbles, balls, bats, etc.)
wash and put away the bikes

I'd like to clean out the shed and tidy it, too, but I think snow will be flying before I get to that. Sweetie still has to bushhog the field and give the lawn a final mow. The lawn grew into October this year. It usually stops by the end of August, but it was so wet this summer, it just kept on going.

What do you have to do to get ready for winter?

"Julie and Julia"... and Me

2009-10-10T20:29:00.004-04:00

Sweetie and I had a little date afternoon/early evening since Pipsqueak was at a five-hour birthday party. We saw "Julie and Julia". Before we got there, I was thinking about writing a review of it for the blog, but I was worried that I wouldn't have anything fresh to say. I'd read a few reviews and I'd heard people talk about it... "The food and cooking made me hungry."... "Streep just nailed Julia Child"... "The two stories blended perfectly like a good hollandaise sauce." I was afraid it had all been said before, but I'm thinking I saw a different movie than most people saw.

I was overwhelmed by the the love story between Julia, and her husband, Paul. There was an uncommonly strong bond between them fueled by adoration, acceptance and support. They shared glances that spoke volumes without uttering a word; they touched each other often... a hand on the arm or shoulder... a loving squeeze. They were always there for each other.

A defining moment in the movie for me was near the beginning when they were sitting in a restaurant in France. Julia said that she didn't know what to do. "The women here don't do anything." And that just wasn't her. She was considering a class in hat making (which she tried and didn't enjoy). Paul asked her, "What do you really like to do?" She laughed and said, "Eat!" He was encouraging her to do what would make her happy.

I think Julia was probably easy to love. As Julie said, she wasn't a bitch. She didn't take herself or life too seriously. She was equally supportive of Paul as she followed him around the world, wherever his work took him. She seemed kind and supportive to friends and relatives.

There was contrast in Julie's relationship with her husband, who complained that she was self-absorbed. Even though Julia spent eight years writing a cookbook, she still made time to make her husband feel important and loved.

The movie also left me thinking that maybe I should have a lofty goal. Julie's was too cook all 524 recipes from "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" in 365 days. I don't want to do that, particularly the part where I'd have to boil a calf's foot in order to make aspic. But I should find something that inspires me, set a deadline and do it.

Retail Stalking

2009-10-09T20:01:00.004-04:00

Today I went to the Ibex Clothing tent sale. Ibex is a local company that makes outdoor wool clothing. Every Columbus Day weekend, they gather up all their overstocks, imperfects and samples and offer everything at huge discounts of 50% off or better. Tent sale is a polite way of saying a retail feeding frenzy. Think Filene's Basement wedding dress sale but trade the young brides-to-be for middle-aged, middle-class people that like classic comfortable clothing.

The sale started at 7am. I arrived at 8:30, and they were already scrambling to locate more space for parking in the field. Shoppers either brought large bags or grabbed empty cardboard boxes and picked up anything and everything they might consider buying. Once all potential purchases were obtained, everyone retreated to the relative quiet outside the tent to sort and make final decisions, or crowd into the communal dressing tent (one for men and one for women). The best place for shopping was the table outside the dressing tent where all the cast-offs were put.

About half-way through my second sweep through the tent, I saw a spring green, half zip pullover that had a pretty pattern and texture to it. Most of their clothing is solid color and texture-free, so I got pretty excited about it, but it was a small and it was the only one I could find. While I was in the dressing room, I was next to a couple of women who were friends and one of them was trying on the top I loved, but she had a medium. Her friend was telling her how good it looked on her, but she was sounding lukewarm at best and complaining about the neck. She did hold on to it though.

I happened to be leaving the dressing tent at the same time they were, so I decided to follow her a bit as they continued shopping the tent. I was hoping she found something she liked better. She tried on a jacket and a vest, and I lost her in the crowd briefly. My frantic searching made realize that I was now mildly obsessed. I found her outside the tent with a big bag of items she'd selected. I stayed just inside the tent pretending to look at a rack of jackets. Nothing happened at first; the friends stood there and talked. Finally she started looking through her bag. She got to the green shirt and held it up to herself, refolded it and put it back on the pile. She stood a few more minutes doing nothing. What was she waiting for?! After what seemed like an eternity, she went back to sorting, but was maddeningly slow about it. She rejected a couple of things by folding and stacking them a couple of feet from her bag. Another woman (I don't know know if they knew each other) came up and asked her if she was discarding them. She said she was, and the woman looked at them. Now I knew if it was rejected, I'd have to act fast.

About 30 minutes had passed since I first started following her and she picked up the green top for the third time, held it up, looked at it, folded it, and PUT IT IN THE DISCARD PILE. I didn't waste any time; I walked over and asked if she was not keeping those items. "Go for it," she said. I grabbed the shirt and practically ran away with it, I was so excited. I'd show you a photo of my prize, but I'm to tired to get the camera, pose and upload the photo. Stalking takes a lot of energy. If you're in the area this weekend, the sale continues Saturday and Sunday on the green in Quechee, Vermont.

The moral to this story: If you really want something, it's probably worth waiting for (at least 30 minutes).

Fluff

2009-10-08T20:18:00.006-04:00

I thought a fluff piece was in order after yesterday's heavy topic. That got me thinking about Fluff. I've recently rediscovered it. I told Pipsqueak that I had spoonful of Fluff in my hot chocolate instead of mini marshmallows when I was a kid. She wanted to try it, so I picked up a jar. It had probably been 25 years since I tasted it, and it made me feel like a kid again. I've enjoyed a few peanut butter and Fluff sandwiches for desserts in the week or so since it's been in the cupboard.

My mom makes to-die-for fudge from the recipe on the Fluff jar. Sweetie swears it's the best fudge ever.

Racism in My Own Backyard

2009-10-07T20:02:00.003-04:00

I heard a story today that made me very sad and angry. I wish it was fiction, but it's not. I wish I could fix it, but I don't think I can.

A bunch of moms from our school got together for breakfast and one of them was new to the group. She moved to American from Jamaica with her husband. She's originally from the US; he's Jamaican. He didn't read, write or speak English when they moved here, but he learned enough so he could get a job, and pass a driver's test. He was was embracing his new life in America.

Seven years has passed since they moved here, and he's now tired, depressed and angry because of how he's been treated. He worked at a sandwich shop in a nearby college town. The other employees chewed food and spit it on his car. He changed employers and now works as a prep cook in restaurant in the same town. For awhile, things went well there. But the manager left, and the new manager started making him clean the bathrooms all the time and clean up after other employees. Luckily, he has a second job in a popular chain cafe where he is treated kindly and fairly. A local state trooper pulled him over several times, but never ticketed him. Why? Because he wasn't doing anything wrong; he was just being harassed. Those are probably just a small number of the acts of racism that have beaten him down over the years.

Vermont is a 97% white state, but I thought we were more progressive, tolerant and accepting than that. I guess I had my head buried in the sand. I don't understand how people can be so mean because someone looks different or practices a different religion. If someone lives in your community, pays their bills, doesn't commit crimes and works hard, can't we just leave them alone? I'm not saying everyone has to love each other, but a little civility doesn't seem like too much to ask.

If I had to say what Vermont is lacking, it would be diversity, mainly because I'd like Pipsqueak to be acquainted with people from all over the world. We can travel and see them, but it's not the same as having them in your community and interacting with them. She's learned about slavery and Martin Luther King in school, and we've talked about racism at home. She's disgusted by someone being treated unfairly because of the color of their skin. After what I heard today and they way I feel about it, I'm sure I wouldn't have had the stomach to watch what happened in the 60s.

Kindle is the Devil

2009-10-06T20:11:00.006-04:00

A few friends, relatives and aquaintances have been singing the praises of Kindle. I will not be singing along. I don't care how many books can fit on it, or how light weight and portable it is or the fact that you can read in the dark. Here is why. Books have soul.

Have you ever purchased a used book and found a note, a receipt or something stuck in the middle that was maybe used as a bookmark and forgotten? It's like a little clue to the mystery of the previous owner. Have you read the inscription in a used book and wondered about the person that gave it and the person that received it?

There are books that I took on vacations, books that I read while nursing my baby, books that I wet with my tears and books that made me giggle out loud. I can look at them on my shelf and remember that. A file on a machine would not evoke those memories.

I love the weight of a book in my hands, the smell of the paper and ink, watching my progress as the bookmark moves through the pages. I even love the irritation of a dust jacket that won't stay in place. I enjoy the process of selecting two or three light weight books to take on a trip.

A book store is like a crack den for me. It's hard to go in without buying something, and once I'm there, I don't want to leave. Being there lifts my mood. I'll pick up book that I never would have considered reading just because the cover or title is eye catching. I can read two or three pages to see if it grabs me without committing to a purchase. If book stores go out of business because everyone is reading electronically, it will be a great loss to me.

I know, Kindle might be greener than paper books, but I do my part to recycle. I keep a few books and the rest are resold or given to the thrift store or donated to the library. I've read that paper production is not a cause of deforestation because of aggressive replanting.

So lets make a deal... I'll try not to sneer at your Kindle if you don't try to sell me on it.

Here's a leather bound, 1905 edition of The Works of Edgar Allen Poe, Vol. II, that I bought at a book sale near Rockport Massachusettes for $2. This book has so much soul, it nearly has a heartbeat. Or maybe it's just a "Tell-Tale Heart".

Bloody Mary

2009-10-05T20:12:00.005-04:00

Fall has so many wonderful things... apples, pumpkins, wood fires, colored leaves. I love all of it, and I love that it's the beginning of Bloody Mary season.

As for how it got it's name, there are a few theories, but I like that one that says it was named after Mary I of England, a sixteenth century queen who was nicknamed Bloody Mary because of the number of people she had put to death. Of course, given the way English royalty condemned people to death, it surprising we don't have a whole lineage of drinks... the Bloody Henry, the Bloody Richard, the Bloody Harold. Perhaps the Brits gave Mary the nickname because such behavior was unbecoming to a female.

If you like yours hot and spicy, you've got to try this recipe...

Bloody Mary

2 1/2 ounces vodka

5 ounces V-8

1/2 ounce lemon juice

1/8 teaspoon black pepper

1/8 teaspoon salt

1/8 teaspoon celery seed

3 dashes Worcestershire sauce

2-3 dashes Tabasco sauce

1 teaspoon grated fresh horseradish root

1 celery rib

1 lemon wedge

In a shaker half-filled with ice cubes, combine vodka, V-8, lemon juice, pepper, salt, celery seed, Worcestershire and Tabasco sauce. Shake well. Strain into a highball glass almost filled with ice cubes. Garnish with celery and lemon wedge.

I Love Apples... a Bushel and a Peck

2009-10-04T16:04:00.005-04:00

Okay, technically it was a 1/2 bushel and a 1/2 peck, but it was still a hell of a lot of apples.

I bought a 1/2 peck of Cortland at the store, because I couldn't wait to make apple crisp with this year's fresh apples. Two days later, we went apple picking and picked a 1/2 bushel of Cortland, Macoun and Honey Crisp.

I made more apple crisp, and apple pie, along with a banana bread from three overlooked bananas.Every snack request has been met with apples. They've been regularly munched and packed in lunches, but I still had a 1/4 peck left and they weren't so crispy fresh anymore. Today I made a big pot of chunky applesauce...

another round of apple crisp...

and apple mini muffins.

All my recipes came from the Betty Crocker Cookbook. It's the first cookbook I ever owned, and I always seem to turn to it for the classics.

I still have 10 tiny apples left, but I think I'll chuck them down the hill for the deer to munch on.

Steak, Guinness and Cheese Pie

2009-10-03T20:45:00.006-04:00

This is what we had for dinner tonight. It's not a quick meal since it requires 3 hours of cooking time, but the filling can be made a day ahead which cuts the cooking time on the day of to under an hour. The recipe is a little vague, but I took it from a Jamie Oliver recipe featured on the Food Network and adapted it to be my own. My favorite adaptation is step #8.

Steak, Guinness and Cheese Pie

2 pounds beef brisket, cut in 1 inch cubes

1 frozen puff pastry sheet, defrosted

3 onions, sliced

olive oil

1 sprig fresh rosemary, chopped

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 T butter

2 sticks celery, sliced

2 carrots, peeled and sliced

1/2 pound or so crimini mushroom, sliced

1 large bottle Guinness

1 heaping T flour

1 small can beef stock

2 handfuls shredded sharp cheddar cheese

1 egg, beaten lightly with fork

1 package frozen peas

1. Saute onion in a large heavy pot in a little olive oil.

2. Stir in rosemary.

3. Add garlic, saute about 30 seconds.

4. Add butter, stir until melted.

5. Add celery, onions and mushrooms. Saute about 3 minutes.

6. Add beef, a pinch of salt and pepper. Stir until well mixed.

7. Stir in flour.

8. Add 3/4 of the bottle of Guinness. (Drink the rest while you cook.)

9. Pour in beef stock to top off. Liquid should not fully cover other ingredients.

10. Bake at 350 degrees in oven safe pot or bowl. For saucier pie, cook covered. For thicker pie, cook uncovered. Or do a combination of both to suit your preference.

11. When filling comes out of oven, stir in one handful of cheese.

12. Put filling in a 8-10" square pan (glass or stoneware is best).

13. Sprinkle with remaining cheese.

14. Place puff pastry on top of filling.

15. Brush top of pastry with beaten egg.

16. Score top of pastry lightly with knife for venting.

17. Bake in 350 degree oven for 40 minutes until bubbly and golden.

18. Serve with cooked frozen peas.

Serves 4 to 6.

All's Fair

2009-10-02T19:25:00.005-04:00

Geez, another crazy day and weekend guests have just arrived, so it's another photo heavy post.

Two weeks ago tonight, we went to the Tunbridge World's Fair. We look forward to this every year. It's small and agricultural...

yet it has all the thrills...

and goodies...

that big fairs offer.

A Day with the Raptors

2009-10-01T20:35:00.009-04:00

Today was crazy, and if I don't want to fail at NaBlogWriMo on the first day, today will have be a photo-heavy post. We've got some catching up to do anyway.

A few days before school started again, Pipsqueak and I went to VINS (Vermont Institute of Natural Science) in Quechee, Vermont. They are a rehabilitation center for raptors (hawks, eagles and owls) and other birds. They are released back into the wild, if possible. If their injuries prevent them from a chance at survival in the wild, they are cared for in this beautiful facility. Since I am a VINS volunteer by teaching a nature program that they sponsor at Pipsqueak's school, we get a free membership, and we try to take advantage of it by visiting at least twice a year.

They have three programs a day where they talk about raptors and bring a few out so we can see them up close. Sometimes we're even treated to a display of flight. We got to see a Barred Owl...

a Red-Tailed Hawk...

a Kestrel....

and a Turkey Vulture.
After the program, we wandered the facility, including the frog and turtle room. The Snapping Turtle's shell must have been over twelve inches in diameter.The raptors are housed in roomy cages with trees growing in them to help them feel like they are in their natural habitat. The particularly photogenic ones on this trip, were the Bald Eagle...

and my personal favorite, the Saw Whet Owl, which only weighs about a quarter pound.

A Kick in the Pants

2009-09-29T17:43:00.003-04:00

It's that time of year again... National Blog Writing Month, or as the "in crowd" calls it NaBloWriMo. A bunch of us crazies have pledged to write a blog post every day in the month of October. I did it last year, and it was a challenge, but also a lot of fun. I got to read and love a few new blogs, and I picked up a new reader or two myself.

I think this is the kick in the pants I need because you may have noticed that I've been rather absent from blog world lately. I'll take one more day off to gather my thoughts and seek inspiration in the mundane moments of every day life. Then stand back and watch the posts roll in like waves on the North Shore of Oahu.

Wanna join me? C'mon, you know you do. Don't be scared. If it doesn't work out, nothing bad will happen... bad luck will not befall you. If you succeed, what do you get? The personal satisfaction of accomplishing a goal. Just pop over to NaBloWriMo and leave a comment that you want to join. See you on the blog roll, baby!

An Unwelcome Passenger

2009-09-14T16:21:00.005-04:00

I think the smell is starting to dissipate, or is it only wishful thinking? It is getting a little cold to ride in the car with the windows down, and I can only hold my breath for so long. I should probably back up a bit.

In July, I noticed a smell in my car, particularly when the air conditioner was running. I knew what it was because my mom had the same smell several years ago. It's a mix of gamy, earthy and incontinence. I was pretty sure a mouse was living somewhere in my car. My mom's mouse was in the engine, so I popped the hood and had a look around, but I didn't see anything that looked remotely mouse related. A few days later I found some paper napkins in my glove compartment had been chewed and there were a few mouse poops stuck to my lint roller. At that point, I had a thorough look through the interior of the car, but saw nothing amiss.

Fast forward to the end of August. My clothes dryer was broken and awaiting service. Every time I hung laundry on the line... without fail... didn't matter how sunny it was... didn't matter what the forecast was, it would rain before it was dry. I gave in and took a basket of wet laundry to the laundromat to dry it. I popped it in the dryer, fed it quarters and headed to the school for 45 minutes to prepare for some volunteer work I do there.

Once my work and drying time was up, I walked out of the school to my car and saw I had a flat tire. I called Sweetie, who was working at home, with this multiple choice quiz...

a. Did he want to come change my tire?
b. Should I call AAA?
c. Did he want to come down with the compressor to blow it up and change it at home?

He chose, d. None of the above. He would come down with the compressor, but I would change the tire. While that sounds reasonable now, I wasn't in a reasonable mood then, and he did fail to mention that he would help me. While I waited the 15 minutes for him to drive to the school, my mood deteriorated, as did the weather. It was sunny and cloudless when I called him. It gradually got gray, then black and the wind started to blow. As he pulled in, random, giant rain splats were hitting the pavement. By the time, we hooked up the compressor, the skies had opened up. I was madder than a wet hen, and when the tire was inflated, I looked like one too.

I hurried to the laundromat and grabbed the clothes from the dryer which had long since stopped. I noticed that one of my nice Garnet Hill, monogrammed white bath sheets was missing. It had been stolen from the dryer. My town is not a hot bed of crime. Nothing happens here. People who do drugs, do them quietly in their homes; nobody robs, kills or assaults, but there was a bath towel burglar running amok. They're lucky I didn't catch them in the act or I might have bludgeoned them with my box of Bounce. I could have used a towel about then as I was standing there dripping over my dry clothes. And why couldn't they have stolen one of the faded, worn JC Penney towels? But I digress...

I rushed home before my tire deflated, and started my lesson in tire changing. When I got the spare tire out of the back, there it was... the beginnings of a mouse nest and lots of little mouse leavings. I cleaned everything up and put a box of mouse poison where the starter nest had been. It wasn't long before the smell changed. This time, it was clearly decomposition. It was my hope that the unwelcome inhabitant would leave the car before his or her demise, but I wasn't so lucky. So far, my searches have not turned up a body, and I will probably have to wait until it's nothing but dust before the smell disappears completely. Has anyone else had an experience with mice in their car? Misery does love company.

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

2009-09-13T20:20:00.008-04:00

I haven't blogged in many moons... well, four phases of the moon to be exact. I thought I'd spare you all my negativity because frankly, it wasn't such a great summer... particularly the last month. It was difficult for me to find humor in all that life was throwing at me, and since I write to entertain or inform you rather than garner your sympathy, I thought I would stay away until I had an attitude adjustment. I'm better now, so I'll spend less time taking quizzes and tending my farm on Facebook and a little more time writing and reading blogs.

I celebrated my improved mood with a flu shot yesterday, and it made me feel really good to take some control over my health. The last time I had the flu was in February 1997. Sweetie and I got it at the same time. I like to joke that we didn't get out of bed all of Valentine's weekend, and we shared a bottle of red (it was Robitussin). We were so sick that we took our temperatures and whoever had the lowest had to go make food. Food was tea and toast or Lipton soup and crackers. It was almost a month before we felt completely better. After that, we've both had a flu shot every year, and Pipsqueak gets them too. I'm thrilled to say that we've been flu-free.

I hear a lot of people say, "I'm not getting a flu shot. I got it last winter, and I was the sickest I've ever been. I got ______ (fill in the blank with pneumonia, bronchitis or any other viral or bacterial comeuppance)." People, the flu shot doesn't make you sick! It won't give you that stuff; it doesn't even prevent that stuff. It does not lower your immunity. It gives you a very good chance at preventing the flu, or if you do get the flu, it will lessen the severity. It would be like saying, "I'm not wearing my seat belt anymore, because last time I did I was in an accident and got seriously injured." It does take 30 days from the injection until you're fully protected, so you could still get the flu in that time. If you do get a non-flu virus, it has nothing to do with the shot. You were just unfortunate to be in close contact with someone with an upper-respiratory infection, and you caught it.

This year, just to heighten the confusion and panic, we have swine flu. (I'm sorry, but I'm not going to call it H1N1. I mean no disrespect to pigs, and I continue to eat them. I love me some bacon, but it's swine flu for me.) So there's a lot of worry over the rush to create a vaccine. Will it be safe? Will it cause Guillain-Barre in some people like the swine flu vaccine of the 70s? Will there be enough for everyone that wants it? Let's be calm and take a deep breath. This vaccine wasn't rushed anymore than any seasonal flu vaccine. The seasonal ones are based on whatever is going around in the winter for the southern hemisphere (our summer). It takes about four months to create a vaccine. Swine flu reared its head at the end of April and really got a foothold in May. Four months have now passed, and the vaccine is now being tested. It should be available in mid-October. It's not clear that there will be enough for everyone that wants it, but the CDC is recommending it for those age 6 months -24 years, particularly school age children, pregnant women and those people with underlying health conditions. If it's available to me, even though I don't fall under any of those categories, I will get it.

I'm not a medical expert; I don't even play one on tv. The information I have I got is from experience, the CDC and the WHO. If you have questions, go there and read. I'd rather hear that you're not getting the flu shot because you're afraid of needles rather than because you're mis- or uninformed.

You might buy a lottery ticket because you'd like a chance at several million dollars. You go on a date because you'd like a chance at love. Why not get a flu shot because you'd like the chance at not being sick in bed for days

Good Bye to a Friend

2009-08-15T22:08:00.004-04:00

My heart is breaking, and I think it will stay broken for awhile. That's the way death is. The ones left behind suffer. The words aren't coming easily because there aren't words to adequately describe grief and confusion. I guess I'll start at the beginning.

Twenty six ago, I started high school. A skinny blond guy named Shawn sat in homeroom behind me because we sat in alphabetical order. He had a locker next to me too. We talked, we teased each other in a friendly way. He called me blueberry eyes, because I wore blue eye shadow when I could get out the house with it unnoticed. I called him Bear, although the reason why escapes me now. I found out recently he had a crush on me. Unfortunately, for him, I had a crush on his brother. (It was unfortunate for me too, since the feeling wasn't mutual.) We talked on the phone once in awhile, hung out in the same crowds and were generally in each other's orbits every day for four years, having fun, supporting, encouraging and just listening to each other. The memories of over two decades ago are now more like snapshots than the short films they used to be.

After school, we lost touch. He didn't come to any of our class reunions, but I was always hoping he might be there. A few months ago, he friended me on Facebook. I was thrilled, because he is someone that I really regretted losing touch with and was happy to have him back in my life even though he was on the other side of the country. I twisted his arm into putting up more photos. I shamed him into posting to his blog again after a two year hiatus, so he wrote a post about ME! Scalawag! He followed my blog; I followed his. We followed each other on Twitter. It was an electronic reunion of sorts. Sweetie and I talked about going to California again in the near future, and in my mind, it was going to include a visit with Shawn.

That brings us to this morning. I woke up at 5:45 and couldn't get back to sleep. I grabbed my iPhone and checked Facebook. There was a message from mutual friend of Shawn's that I didn't know. Shawn had been missing for several days, and he wanted to hear from anyone that might have heard from him. I had that feeling of panic wash through me where it feels like water has been thrown over your body. I just laid there with my heart pounding, not knowing what to do. After a few minutes, I decided I'd look at his profile page and see when his last post was. That's when the second wave of panic came. I saw three RIP messages from other friends unknown to me on his Wall.

My hands were shaking and I felt sick. I was hoping they just mistook missing for dead. I was hoping he'd just hooked up with some hottie and was locked away in some hotel room not coming up for air. His family had moved away and I didn't know how to contact them. I sent a message to the friend that send me the "missing message" and tried (rather unsuccessfully) to get on with my life.

After a couple of hours without a response (it seemed much longer), I sent messages to the people that had posted RIP messages on his Wall. Before long the the shock waves came rolling in... yes, Shawn died... he took his own life... he jumped off the Golden Gate Bridge.

I can't begin to understand this and even those closest to him can only speculate and wonder, but with close friends in CA, parents in FL and a brother in CT, it maybe awhile before things become clearer. Or maybe we're all looking for answers when there aren't any. Death is my greatest fear. It's too final and unknown. I have a hard time understanding the elderly or terminally ill becoming resigned to it; someone young taking his own life is unfathomable to me.

A friend told me about the biography of Audrey Hepburn she read a few years ago. Hepburn lived in Switzerland, and was close friends for years with the French actress and model, Capucine ... the beautiful woman who was in "The Pink Panther", and other films. Capucine had suffered from bi-polar and clinical depression for decades, was under very good care by doctors, took medication and had lots of support. But, she took her own life, at 57. In anguish, guilt, grief, Hepburn and her husband talked to Capucine's long-time doctor; as the book says, " .... a kind man they knew through many 'Cap crises' .... " And, it goes on: "He told Audrey something that shocked her: 'The pain Capucine was suffering was so immense, this {to her} was really the best solution.' Only then, says Rob, did Audrey make her peace with it."

While that's very helpful to hear, it's still too raw and fresh for me to make peace right now. Sadness, anger and regret are right there at the surface like an open wound. I know it will scab over; I will pick it and it will bleed again. But eventually, it will heal and the scar will fade, but never completely disappear.

Did you know how much we'd worry?

Did you know how much we'd cry?

Did you know how long we'd search for answers why?

Did you know we'd rather say "I love you"

than have to say "good bye"?

Food... I Just Can't Quit You.

2009-08-13T18:01:00.004-04:00

I love food and everything about it... the way it looks and smells, the texture, the ritual and (oh, be still my heart) the taste. I know a man who said if he could take a pill and not eat, he'd be happy. I wish I could take a pill and eat everything and anything I wanted.

I was lucky as a teen and an early 20-something; I could eat everything and anything I wanted and not gain weight. When I got a little older, I noticed a few pounds creep up, but I'd cut back a little and they'd fall right off. I've never dieted, but I did keep a food diary for awhile in my 20s when it occurred to me that I might not have the healthiest diet. Okay, I didn't need a diary to tell me that sugared jelly donuts didn't make a good lunch, but it did help me see the error of my ways.

In my 30s, I was eating healthy, well balanced meals, but I could still eat desserts, snack on junk when I felt like it and still maintain my weight. But recently, something happened to change all that. Although, I felt like my eating habits hadn't changed, I put on 8-10 pounds last winter.

In addition to my vigorous walks, I thought I should re-evaluate my eating. I was browsing at Borders a few weeks ago, and bought "Skinny Bitch" by . I got about half way through the book and quit. They recommend not eating meat, dairy, sugar or drinking alcohol. No wonder they're bitches. That takes all the fun out of food.

But I am going to make some changes. First the scary one... I'm giving up all alcohol for almost three weeks until school starts. I won't give it up forever because it's a taste and ritual I love, but I'm hoping it might jump start the weight loss. I haven't looked up the calorie count of one mixed drink or glass of wine, but that along with the nuts or cheese and crackers every night, must add up to a lot over the period of a week.

Other changes:

fewer chips with a sandwich at lunch. I'll be counting them out instead of grabbing a handful. And I will never, EVER again eat them out of the bag.
drinking more water.
eating more fruit, especially as snacks
cutting way back on sweet treats, but not denying myself because I'd only want it more.
portion control
no finishing Pipsqueak's leftovers
eating slower.

It's really just being more conscious about what goes in my mouth. I don't want to do anything that I can't keep doing or isn't well-balanced. I also have to think about the example that I'm setting for Pipsqueak. I don't want her to be a dieter; I want her to be a healthy eater.

The Emancipation of Me.... Me!!

2009-08-12T20:45:00.003-04:00

It's time I freed myself from an unhealthy and near-sedentary life style. It's one of those things that no one can tell you to do. You just have to decide to do it yourself, and I've decided it's time to get off my fat butt and get that fat butt off.

I gained 8 or 10 pounds last winter. I had maintained the same weight for almost 20 years except for when I was getting divorced and lost almost 20 pounds (not a recommended method of weight loss), and when I was pregnant and put on 30 pounds which I lost in just under a year. Weight just hasn't really been an issue for me and not something I had to work to control... until now.

It's not even ALL about the weight. If my body is a temple, mine has been crumbling. I have way too many aches and pains, tension in my neck most of the time and a general lack of energy. I convinced myself that I had a thyroid condition, but I had my doctor check it, and he reassured me that I'm just a hypochondriac and don't have a life-long condition requiring medication.

It's easy to make up excuses of why not to exercise:

can't afford to go to the gym
no one available to watch child/ren
don't have the right clothes/shoes to wear
don't have the time
don't feel good right now; maybe when I feel better
it's raining
don't like to sweat.

What convinced me to do something (other than make excuses)? The sight of myself in shorts and (Egad! The horror!) a bathing suit. I've always had this dream that when I was 50 I wanted to be in shape like Tina Turner or Cher or Madonna. That's only 5 years + away, and it's not going to happen overnight.

Last week, I put together a playlist on my Ipod of music that keeps me moving, put on some comfortable clothes and sneakers and started walking. And I don't mean strolling. I mean if I was going any faster, I'd be running. When I was on vacation, I did 2 1/2 or 3 miles since it was on the coast and flatter. At home, it's a lot of steep up and down hill, so I'm doing 2 miles. So far, I've walked about 13 miles total, and I have to admit, I like how it makes me feel. I have more energy after I walk, and I like the happy endorphins I feel when I'm done.

The weird part is that I don't want to do it before I go. I feel like I have a devil on one shoulder and an angel on another. The devil is making excuses and the angel is telling me how good it is for me and how good I'll feel. When I get back, I can't wait to go out again. Unfortunately, that feeling passes, and I'll struggle again the next time. As my friend, Ellen so aptly put it, "Inertia is a wicked, wicked force."

Tomorrow, I'll talk about what I'm doing on the inside to change how I feel and look.

There's Romance In The Air

2009-07-30T16:20:00.003-04:00

Last night, I got fantastic news. Our good friends (I'll call them Doc and Chuckles) are getting married. While this seems like an ordinary event that happens every day, I find it extraordinary and exciting. They are 40-something and 50-something and have been together for 8 years. I thought they were the east coast versions of Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russell. They seemed more married than some married people I know. But what makes it so special was the fact that they aren't getting married because it's expected of them, or because they want to have children (they already have two teens a piece and a 7 year old together), or because logistically and economically it will make sound sense. Nope. They're getting married because they were overcome with the knowledge that they wanted to be together for the rest of their lives .

I admit it, I'm a sucker for romance. I cry at every wedding and when the man and woman get together at the end of every romantic comedy. Romance and love are two of the few good things in this world of many bad things. Just think of all the news you receive and how rarely it's good. I've felt happy all day today... almost giddy and distracted because they brought me news so exciting it made me squeal. The sky seemed a little bit bluer, the air clearer, and Sweetie seemed even more attractive to me. It brought back all the happy memories of my engagement, wedding and marriage to Sweetie.

My physical therapist got married two weeks ago, the school principal got married a week ago, and the owner of the farm where Pipsqueak rides is getting married in September. In case you thought romance was only for the young, these are all 40 and 50-somethings. At that (my) age, that usually means it's a second (or third) marriage. Some are able to get it right the first time. Statistically, it's about 50%. The other 50% of us weren't that lucky or smart or observant.

I'm looking forward to Doc and Chuckle's wedding (date so far unknown). Second weddings are much different than first. They are less about tradition and more of a celebration of love, and are usually a better representation of who the couple really is. Doc and Chuckles are funny, crazy, youthful, creative and eccentric. Sounds like my kind of party.

I'm Still Here

2009-07-15T20:39:00.004-04:00

Many times, many days, I see something or hear something and think, "Oh, I should blog about that." But I haven't (obviously). I've been busy living life and enjoying the summer (if you call low 70s and lots of rain summer). Pipsqueak has been taking swimming lessons, going to pony camp and taking a hip hop class. We've been doing arts and crafts and just hanging out. I've been gardening, cooking, chilling and happy that it hasn't been hot enough to wear shorts or a bathing suit. Damn, eight pounds that won't come off!

I think of you often, my internet lovelies. I should throw you a bone from time to time... a recipe, a photo... something so you'll still be there during the long Vermont winter when I'm shut in, trying to stay warm and again making a dent in the sofa cushion. But I do have things I want to share with you, so I'm going to try to post twice a week. I can do that, right? Back in October I posted every.single.day for NOBLARama-rama-ding-dong or whatever it was called.

If that just isn't enough, follow me on Twitter because I seem to be able to find time for 140 characters or less once or twice a day. You can find me by searching for BettsVT. Follow me, and I'll follow you, even though that sounds like we'll be chasing each other around in circles.

Independence Day Recovery Period...

2009-07-06T15:06:00.004-04:00

That's what I'm in right now. No, I didn't drink too much. I had one beer. It's all I had time and energy for. I started the day with a protein rich breakfast, because I knew my next meal would be late. I do live from meal to meal. I have a love affair with food, and we can't be apart for long. I got all decked out in my red, white and blue and got to wear my once-a-year socks.

My first stop was our library's book sale. I wanted to be there at 9am when the door opened, so I wouldn't miss anything good. Hardcovers and big paperbacks were $2, small paperbacks and movies were $1. I also have a love affair with books, and I can never have too many.

After that I had to set up for a morning of performances, and be ready to start at 10:30. First I played clarinet in the town band in the parade, then I performed in an hour long concert with the town band, and finally played djembe drum for a short concert with the a group of community drummers. It was a lot of fun and went well, but I get a little nervous when I perform, so I takes more energy than it should.

I got lunch around 1:30, (oh, food how I missed you) and checked out all the town festivities, and ended up playing music trivia with a group of around 20 people (most baby boomers with song from the 70s) for an hour or so. At the end of the game, I dragged myself home and collapsed on the couch for a couple of hours. We grilled some burgers for dinner (that's where the beer came in), ate some festive cupcakes which we made the day before(more fun with Wilton Color Spray) and headed back downtown for a concert (which I didn't play in) and firework viewing. Not surprisingly, that night was the best night's sleep I've had in weeks.

Farrah Fawcett, the Forgotten Angel

2009-06-29T21:07:00.005-04:00

Farrah Fawcett had the unfortunate timing to die the same day as Michael Jackson. Her death, and more importantly, her life have been overshadowed by his.

Sure, I'm was and am a Michael Jackson fan... not rabid, just appreciative of his talent. I feel sorry that he died and left behind three children. I feel sorry that he died so young and on the eve of his return to performing. I feel sorry for for the mental pain he must have felt to transform himself from an attractive man to a freak. But I feel so much more for Farrah Fawcett.

Charlie's Angels premiered in 1976. I had two best girlfriends that I spent most of my time with, and we loved to play Charlie's Angels together. It was a time when television was depicting women that could be strong and take care of themselves... Police Woman, Bionic Woman and Wonder Woman. Okay, so they used their bodies and beauty to fight crime, but it was sure fun to watch. As a tween, it sort of made me feel empowered.

I was surprised to learn that Farrah was only on the show for one season with a few guest spots after that. It seemed to me that she was on longer. Apparently, she wanted to do more with show biz than wiggle and jiggle... and boy, did she ever. Her turns in "The Burning Bed" and "Extremities" were powerful and intense, and she showed the world that she was more than a sex symbol. She was a talented dramatic actress.

I think I admire her most for her struggle with cancer. She made a documentary, "Farrah's Story" which chronicled everything from treatment to side effects. She hoped it would inspire and help people. It's help and inspiration I hope I never have to use, but I will remember that she never gave up. She fought for over two years, and even when she heard the cancer had metastasized to her liver, she still received treatment. It would have been easier to give up and say she was too tired and ready to die, but she didn't.

Her life may not have been as dramatic, interesting and bizarre as Michael Jackson's, but we should honor her memory and her final message... never give up hope.

So long, Farrah. I hope you're an angel again.

Just Dance

2009-06-22T20:44:00.004-04:00

This weekend, Pipsqueak had her annual dance recital... four shows in two days, each lasting 2.3 hours, a half hour early arrival time, one hour round trip travel. That means I put 15.2 hours of my weekend into the show and that doesn't include makeup and bun time. Don't get me wrong; it was a fantastic show, beautifully produced, choreographed and costumed, and I'm proud as punch of Pipsqueak. But man, I'm I ever tired today, and when I closed my eyes to go to sleep last night, I swear I saw dancers... sort of like you see square tiles after playing Tetris too long.

Pipsqueak has been dancing since she was three years old... ballet and tap until this year when she swapped tap for jazz. She saw a ballerina on Sesame Street shortly after turning three and told me she wanted to learn to dance ballet. I started looking for local studios and found Dancers' Corner. I found a couple of others, but Dancer's Corner had a nice website with all the information I needed, so I picked them because I'm lazy and didn't want to make phone calls. It turned out to be a fortuitous if under-researched choice, since I've heard at least one other studio has a militant method of teaching; I wanted the experience to be fun. DC manages to teach the young children through play. I don't think the children even realize their learning. They get to wear their pretty little tutus and ballets skirts instead of a "uniform" of black leotards and pink tights.

She cried at her first recital and didn't make it on stage for her final number, and told me on the way home that she NEVER wanted to do that again. I told her she didn't have to, but I spent time talking to her about her experience, and my experience playing in orchestra, and acting in plays. I explained how the audience is rooting for the performer to succeed, the gift of entertainment and the powerful, exciting feeling of making an audience laugh or hearing applause. When recital time came around again, she still didn't want to do it, but I bought tickets for us to go and watch. Her reactions, "I wish I had that pretty costume," and "I could have done that!" There was no question that she would perform in the next recital, and she's loved the stage ever since.

There were approximately230 dancers performing last weekend ranging in age from 2 to 80+. There was a tribute to the two senior girls that would be leaving the studio after dancing there for 10 and 12 years. I was struck with the thought that it could be my daughter in only 11 more years. When the time comes for her to leave home, I'll only have memories of the all the time we spent together and the wish that I had another weekend that I could devote to her.

Eastern Milksnake

2009-06-18T13:48:00.005-04:00

When I got home from grocery shopping I pulled up to back door to unload. I made one trip in and when I came out... OMG! There was a snake skin on the cement at the foot of the steps. We find garter snake skins all the time around here.. in the stone walls and wood piles. But this was huge and something told me this wasn't a garter snake. I brought it in and measured it. It was 42"! That's almost as long as my 7 year old daughter is tall.

I looked in our Field Guide to New England and it said garter snakes grow to 22". I couldn't quite match the coloration (dark tan and light tan bands) to anything in the field guide, so I hit the internet looking for Vermont snakes. I found the Vermont Reptile and Amphibian Atlas Project with a phone number. Being curious (and a little apprehensive) about what was lurking in my backyard, I called. I was dumbfounded when the phone was answered with a "hello". I was expecting some lab or research facility. Apparently, this is a one-man operation. "Uh, hi. Is this the... uh... the snake people?"

"Yes, you want to speak with my husband, " whom she put on the phone.

I told him about my find and its markings, he identified it as a Milksnake, sometimes called a Spotted Adder, which is a misnomer since it isn't an adder at all. With that size skin, it's definitely a mature adult. They quite common in Vermont. (Funny I've never seen one in my life.) He told me it was probably feeding on mice and rats. (At least I know it won't be feeding on my dog.) There are plenty of mice in the fields around here. He told me it might get in the house if it follows a mouse in. (Um, no thank you.) But he reassured me that it's harmless and we could pick it up and put it back outside. (Again, no thank you.) Finally, he told me that the snake is probably not quite that long as the skin stretches up to 20% as it comes off. (Thank you.)

The Bittersweet Last Day of School

2009-06-16T15:48:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow is the last day of school for Pipsqueak... well, a half day really. I'm happy and excited. We won't have to wake up to the alarm clock anymore, and I won't have to run our mornings with military precision in order to get out the door on time. I can make pancakes or waffles any morning of the week. Even though I try to stick close to her usual bedtime, if we're in the middle of something, getting to bed late a half hour or so won't matter. If I want to work in the garden, I don't have to get all prettified first to take Pipsqueak to school; I can put on my old gardening clothes and shower when my work is done. I really love spending time with Pipsqueak. We have fun together doing arts and crafts, work around the house, shopping or taking a walk. We have plans for lots of things we're going to do together.

However, I know I won't be getting much done unless I can find a way to include her in the projects I want to work on. I'll get "momma"ed so much I'll want to fill my ears with sand, and there will be endless requests for hugs and cuddles. It's an issue with having an only child; mom is the entertainment and the playmate. I was an only child myself, and I learned to be happy by myself and how to keep busy. I'd play games against myself, and do all sorts of projects and pretend play alone.

Even though I want a relaxed summer, I want to keep a bit of a schedule too... a time for gardening and outside play, a time for art, and chore time. I want to keep TV watching to a minimum. I think I'll schedule one hour a day of "no momma time". She'll have to occupy herself and not bother me, so I can keep my sanity.

In my house, "bored" is a dirty word. Pipsqueak has enough toys to sink a large boat. If she says she's bored, I tell her she'd better find something to do soon or I'm grabbing a trash bag to start loading it with toys. That usually motivates her.

I'm looking forward to the next 70-75 days, but I know that come the end of August, I'll be ready for a little less together time. I don't know how home school parents do it.

"Up" and Movie Theaters of Yore

2009-06-13T18:48:00.003-04:00

I took Pipsqueak to a matinee of "Up" today, and I was reminded why I don't go to the movies anymore. First, your wallet is assaulted by the ticket price and concessions. You want HOW MUCH for a small popcorn and soda? Surely, you jest.

But the biggest reason is the theater itself. Televisions screens are getting bigger and movie screens are getting smaller. I was thinking as I sat there, "I feel like I'm sitting in some one's living room except I have no leg room and I can't hit the pause button if I have to pee."

When I was growing up, there were no multiplexes. They started going in when I was a teenager, and then it seemed cool because you had CHOICES. Still, it didn't compare to the feeling of a single screen movie house with the screen that was two stories tall and so wide that when there was a close up, it looked like you could drive a small car into the actors nostril. It was thrillingly large. Oh, and the price... my mom would give me $1 on Saturday. I could buy my ticket to the matinee and a small popcorn. If I scrounged around in our living room cushions before I left, I might come up with enough change for "an orange drink" which was served in the lobby in a paper cone. You weren't allowed to take orange drink or any drink in the theater.

That same theater that I went to as a kid in Bellows Falls, Vermont is still running after being renovated at least twice. Someday, I'm going to take Pipsqueak to a movie there, so she can experience the big screen for real.

As for "Up", it was great. It made me laugh out loud, and I loved that talking dog much more than a grown woman should love an animated character. Ed Asner's voice as the old man was spot on, and Disney Pixar really now how to put together a story. I'll be seeing it again... at home... on DVD... with my bag of Orville Redenbacher and the pause button.

Love and Marriage

2009-06-10T20:07:00.004-04:00

It's time I gave my readers a little love. I've been away for so long, but I've been too busy to write. I've had so many ideas of things to share with you, but no time or energy to do it. But tonight I have a few minutes of peace and quiet, so I thought I'd write about love.

Last Saturday, Sweetie and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary. How can that be? It only seem like a couple of years. Honestly, I'm not sick of him yet. It is hard to live with another person because he's not.... well... me. Everyone has their own way of doing things, their own likes and dislikes. Even two people that are similar like we are, can't agree on everything. But the good far outweighs the bad; we compromise, compliment and complement.

After all these years, when I drive down the hill to the house, I'm happy when his car is here and disappointed when it's not. I just enjoy having him around. He's good company. If something is bothering me, it's him that I want to talk to; if something happened in my day, it's him I want to tell.

A few days ago, I was running errands and lost my car keys. I only have one set (a fact I will remedy soon). I'd been back in the store twice looking and looked all through my purse and car. I called Sweetie, not because I wanted him to fix the problem, but because I would find talking to him comforting and calming. He laughed at me, which was okay too, because it lightened my mood. (I found the keys in my pocket. I forgot I had pockets in those shorts. Duh!)

Someday, I'll try to give Pipsqueak advice on what to look for in a man (which she will no doubt ignore). If she listens to nothing else, I hope she'll find someone she can laugh with... someone who makes her laugh and who she can make laugh.

Thanks, Sweetie for all the laughs and all the memories. Oh, and I'll be renewing your contract for another year.

Celebrating Farming

2009-06-04T21:41:00.005-04:00

Last weekend, our town had a Farm Fest to celebrate local farmers and encourage people to support farming in our community. There were lots of animals, farm food vendors and some local music. For Pipsqueak and me, it was all about the animals.

She may have been the black sheep of the family, but she was the friendliest.

I love alpacas and llamas. I can usually make friends by humming to them, but this one couldn't hear me over the band that was playing.
This sleepy calf needed a name beginning with "C". Pipsqueak suggested Cookie and that's the one they chose. She does look a little like an oreo.
These goats were a couple of uncooperative models, and kept turning their backs on me. My persistence paid off.
Hey, I didn't know Phyllis Diller was going to be there!
And on a non-animals related subject, how about a bike blender? The faster you peddle, the faster it mixes. Nothing like burning off a few calories before drinking a milkshake.

Quick Trip to the Beach

2009-06-01T19:54:00.004-04:00

Things are still crazy mostly due to end of year school activities. Teachers sure try to pack in a lot of stuff in that last month. I'm looking forward to the more relaxed morning of summer vacation.

I'm so behind that I'm just now getting my Memorial Day weekend photos off my camera. We went to Annisquam, Massachusetts to get some pre-peak fun in the sun and sand. That weekend is always a big push for me to get the garden in, but Sweetie likes to go away. As the happily marrieds that we are, we compromised. I had Saturday to do my work, and we went away Sunday and Monday. I have to admit it's great being there before the vacationers arrive... just us and a few other die hard beach combers.

Pipsqueak met up with a second cousin. They waded out to the dock at low tide and did some critter exploration... land crabs, hermit crabs and shrimp.

Sweetie and Pipsqueak went swimming even though the water was freezing. It's got to be 90-something degrees, humid and not a breeze stirring before I'll swim in the Atlantic.

There's no better way to kick off summer than to sit outside a lobster shack on the water just before sunset mowing down a quart of steamed clams. It may look like I'm just eating salad, but I had a belly full of clams, too.

And jeez, my hair didn't travel well. This is what I look like after three hours in the car, then add sunblock and salt spray, mix thoroughly. Bake in warm sun for three hours. Ugh!

The next day, we met up with more family who were travelling with the five-week-old products of a successful dachshund breeding. Nothing says happy kid like a lap full of puppies.

Wilton Color Spray and the Story of the Three Birthday Cakes

2009-05-27T18:14:00.005-04:00

I mentioned yesterday that I made three birthday cakes for Pipsqueak. You've already seen the first one... the rainbow cake. I did the colors with Wilton Color Spray which I loved using. I was afraid it would run since I was putting it on a vertical surface, but as long as I held the can back six inches as instructed, it held beautifully.

I loved using the color spray so much that I used it on the next project... cupcakes for her class on her birthday. I made them bakery-fancy with piped on frosting and used two colors of spray in sort of a yin and yang pattern. Then I topped them with coordinating sprinkles. I was really happy with the way they turned out, and plan to make color spray and regular part of my kid cake repertoire (as if I had a repertoire). I recommend Wilton Color Spray, and no one paid me to say that.

Finally, I made the family cake on Friday morning. We have a family party (me, Sweetie, my mom and Pipsqueak) on her actual birthday. It was nearly 90 degrees on Friday, and if you've ever tried to frost a cake in that kind of heat, you know it can be disastrous. It was just a standard yellow cake with cream cheese filling and chocolate frosting. The layers kept slipping, so I used skewers to hold them together. Then the filling started oozing out the sides like lava. When I started putting on the chocolate, it was slipping down the sides almost as fast as I was putting it on. I had to work really fast and put it in the fridge. I'm glad I wasn't trying to impress anyone. It wasn't pretty but it tasted good.

"Jane, stop this crazy thing!"

2009-05-26T20:06:00.002-04:00

Do you remember that line? It was at the end of "The Jetsons" title sequence when George was on some sort of contraption that kept him spinning around and around. That's what I've felt like the past two weeks. There have been so many thing that HAD to be done. That crazy contraption was life and I wanted it to stop.... well, at least slow down. There were Pipsqueak's birthday celebrations which required me to make three (I mean, really) THREE cakes, various appointments, getting the veggie garden ready for planting and the actual planting, an semi-spontaneous overnight trip, and all the usual things like laundry, cooking, grocery shopping, bill paying and trying to keep the house from looking like a hurricane blew through.

Oh, how I've neglected you, my internet friends. Tomorrow, I will put up a real post... hopefully something to sink your teeth into, but at the very least, something to nibble on while you sip your coffee.

Just Kidding Around

2009-05-20T20:15:00.004-04:00

A friend of ours has five-week-old pygmy goat kids, which we visited on Sunday. If you're unfamiliar with pygmy goats (which I was), they like to jump up and stand on high things. When they're small, a person's back makes just the right platform.

Pipsqueak couldn't wait to have a goat on her back.

Sweetie's broad, manly back had room for two. That IS NOT his best jacket. That's his gettin'-dirty jacket... perfect for muddy goat hooves.

Kids are like puppies and... well... kids. After a little play, they get tired and enjoy curling up in a lap for a little rest.

Pipsqueak's Birthday Party

2009-05-18T18:03:00.005-04:00

Pipsqueak turns 7 on Friday, but we had her party on Saturday to avoid the Memorial Day weekend. This year she chose a pottery painting party at Tip Top Pottery. Having a party off site makes my life easier... I don't have to get the house ready or clean it up after, and the kids don't get distracted from party activities by Pipsqueak's toys.

She invited six friends. I always insist the invitees be kept to a small, manageable number. They spent at least 45 minutes painting their pottery. That was followed by cake and punch. Sweetie likes to show off his pouring technique to the delight of the girls.

Pipsqueak told me she wanted a pegasus unicorn cake, but I asked how she would feel about a pegasus jumping over a rainbow. Once she readily agreed, I had to get down to the business of figuring out how to make that happen. It was easy thanks to Wilton Color Spray.

Two hours from when it all started, the presents were opened and the goody bags distributed. Now to enjoy the 364 days until we do it again.

Remember When-sday - Prom Season

2009-05-13T09:56:00.006-04:00

It's the middle of May... the height of prom season. It's a night on which dreams can be made and shattered. So much weight is put on one night. It's a teenage right of passage. K at BlogGoggles tagged me in a prom dress post last week, so I'm about to show you my prom photo from senior year. I loved my dress. Now I think it looks frumpy. It was a Gunne Sax, which was all the rage then. I was so freakishly tall that my mother had to sew a wide lace trim to the bottom to make it long enough for me.

If you grew up in the 70s or 80s, you probably remember Gunne Sax well. Here's a little blurb about the company that I found interesting.

Gunne Sax is a clothing label which specializes in formal and semi-formal wear for young women and is owned by Jessica McClintock, Inc. It was founded in the 1960s and bought by Ms McClintock in 1969.
While Jessica McClintock, Inc., is a large and diverse style house, the term "Gunne Sax" is often associated with its 1970s fashions, which could stylistically be called "prairie-revival", drawing on many elements popular in late-19th and early-20th century American fashion such as pinafores, gingham prints, and calico. The company was named after the "gunny sack" or burlap trim used on some of the earlier dresses.
Gunne Sax also revived a kind of "renaissance" look, with empire waistlines and middle placket, usually with more modern textiles such as velveteen. Often there was a high collar in the back with a low neckline in the front, making for a more demure variation on the medieval "wench" look. The puffed sleeves were usually tightened below the elbow, a style known as "leg o'mutton." Many of the dresses have laced bodices resembling corsets.
The characteristic puff sleeves and leg o'mutton sleeves found in many Gunne Sax pieces started the puff sleeve craze that prevailed throughout the 1970s and '80s and into the early '90s. Imitators of Gunne Sax included Candi and Young Edwardian. Collectors consider clothing with the original "black label," used only in 1969, the most valuable. A "hearts label" was used for a short time following, until the 1970s and early '80s larger label with scrollwork was put into use.
Gunne Sax dresses are still manufactured, though the 1970s style associated with the term is no longer used by the company. Contemporary Gunne Sax dresses tend to follow modern prom dress sensibilities, such as tight, strapless bodices and full skirts, favoring fabrics like satin, taffeta, and tulle.

My date, a boy I invited from another school, owned his own tuxedo because he's was involved in youth politics and had to give speeches at events frequently. I thought that was pretty cool. I remember very little about the night except when I thought my date left in the middle. I thought he'd gone to the bathroom, but he'd been gone a long time. I asked a friend to check the bathroom and he wasn't there. I looked everywhere for him and was getting pretty upset about being ditched when he showed up again. He'd gone to the car to change his shirt because he had two tuxedo shirts and couldn't decide which one to wear, so he thought he'd surprise me by changing half-way through. The second shirt was blue with ruffles in the front. I wish he'd had that one on for the photo because nothing says retro like a ruffled tuxedo shirt.

I'm not going to tag anyone, but if you're scrambling for something to blog about, pull out your old prom photo to share. I'd LOVE to see it.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow.

2009-05-11T20:49:00.003-04:00

On Saturday night, a tornado touched down in Washington, Vermont causing considerable damage. There was golf ball sized hail in South Royalton, Vermont. Mother Nature dished up a bit of minor drama in our corner of Vermont.

It had been sunny and warm all afternoon. Pipsqueak went to a birthday party, and the kids spent a lot of time outdoors chasing each other around with water balloons. When we got home at 3:30, I started prepping for our dinner guests. We were having tandoori chicken on the grill with mango jasmine rice, a salad and crème brûlée for dessert. Sweetie made the crème brûlée in the morning. When our friends arrived just after 5 pm, the chicken was marinating, the ingredients for the rice pre-measured, the salad in the fridge, the dressing made and table set.

About the time the first round of martinis were served, the clouds had rolled in and it was getting windy. Beginning with one major gust of wind, our power went out and the deluge of rain and pea-size hail fell. Being the unflappable family, we lit some candles and made another pitcher of martinis. Before long, it began clearing and we were treated to a beautiful double rainbow, which we all went out in the remaining sprinkles to fully enjoy. I should have taken a photo, but being well into my second martini, I probably would have taken a photo of my finger instead. Geez, a tornado and a rainbow! Where are the tin man and the scarecrow?

The dinner went off without a hitch thanks to a grill, a gas stove and a blow torch. (The blow torch was to caramelize the crème brûlée.) Now how do we top that next time those friends come over?

Bridgewater Raft Race - 2009

2009-05-07T09:41:00.010-04:00

Last Saturday, we went to the Bridgewater Raft Race. This is an event that never disappoints... plenty of interesting, hand-made raft, plenty of interesting characters, and plenty of destruction.

Some rafts are minimal and are built for speed more than entertainment...

for some, it's all about style...
or costumes...

or supporting their favorite team...

For others, it's a feat of engineering...
For most, it's just a matter of seeing what junk you have laying around that might float when strapped together...
or maybe they just want to channel their inner Wizard of Oz...
A few required a little on site construction...
There was even an Elvis sighting...

At the cannon blast (I'm not kidding. There's a real cannon.), everyone runs to their raft from the starting line and chaos ensues. Many have never been float tested and some instantly discover, they don't. There's some instant destruction, as some discover that a little more duct tape and a couple more screws might have been helpful. And there are the inevitable log jams as around 50 rafts hit the water at simultaneously....

Whatever their reason or method, it isn't about coming in first. It's about having fun and thinking about how they'll do it differently next year.

Happy Cinco de Mayo

2009-05-05T20:44:00.005-04:00

We always celebrate Cinco de Mayo, because even though we don't need an excuse to eat tacos and drink Caronas and margaritas, it's nice to have one. My tacos weren't photogenic. I don't know how Taco Bell does it, but I'm guessing it's specialized lighting and chemically enhanced food. The margaritas were especially pretty ...

but not too pretty to drink.

I don't even know what Cinco de Mayo is about. I should probably look it up so I'm not totally ignorant... after my tequila buzz is gone.

Superfudge by Judy Blume - A Book Review Every Parent Should Read

2009-05-01T15:26:00.003-04:00

Last night innocence was almost lost... a moment in childhood was teetering on the edge of the cliff, but I yanked it back in the nick of time.

A few months ago, I bought tickets for Pipsqueak and I to see the play, "Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing" based on Judy Blume's book. I read her the book beforehand, so she would have a better idea of what was going on. We loved the book and the play.

Last month, I was looking through the Scholastic Books flier and saw a set of sequels to the book, "Superfudge", "Double Fudge" and "Fudge-a-mania". I ordered them and we started reading "Superfudge" soon after it arrived. The main character is Peter, who is now in sixth grade. His younger brother, Fudge, is the real star. He's 7 years younger and is starting kindergarten in this book.

All is well until Chapter 10, entitled "Santa Who?" Two pages into the chapter, I'm reading along when Peter says, "When I got home that afternoon, I cornered my mother. 'I don't think it's a good idea...'" At this point my eyes shot ahead of my mouth because I sensed what could be coming and I saw the words... "for you to let him go on believing in Santa." I had to think fast! I needed to buy some time. I'm getting over a cold, so I started coughing, feigned a frog in my throat and said I had to get water.

I took the book to the bathroom with me and sped read ahead while continuing to fake cough, clear my throat and drink water. In the upcoming paragraphs, Judy Blume was going to blow the whole Santa myth right out of the water! How could she do that? There should be a warning on the book cover or at the top of the chapter! If I known ahead of time, I could have skipped the whole chapter without it being missed. In her defense, the book is about a sixth grader, but with funny Fudge being the scene stealer, I can't believe Pipsqueak is the only 6-almost-7 year old that enjoys the series. As soon as I find a way to contact Ms. Blume, she's going to get a piece of my mind, but my first order of business was to warn you, my dear readers.

So here I was in the bathroom trying to figure out how to preserve the excitement of Christmas for what I hope will be years to come. I decided to skip some paragraphs, re-write a few sentences, and pray she didn't notice. She can read now, and most nights she points out parts she wants to read. Thankfully, I had painted her fingernails bright blue with a top coat of glitter earlier, so this night she was more interested in looking at her fingernails. I pulled it off, finished the chapter without her noticing it was a bit disjointed, kissed her goodnight and left her room with my hands shaking.

We, as parents, have enough worries and fears without our bedtime stories becoming myth busters. And now I must make an appointment with my colorist to cover the gray hairs that I got last night. Perhaps I'll send Judy Blume the bill.

More Mind Wanderings

2009-04-29T12:49:00.002-04:00

I've been away from blogger for a few days. I had a lot to catch up on when we got back from DC: laundry, mail, blah, blah, blah. I think I'm getting back into the routine of ordinary life again, but my mind is going in all sorts of directions.

Expectations: Remember I said I had a special treat planned from myself on the way home? Well, it didn't work out. I don't even want to go into the specifics because it was such a disappointment, but it only reinforced a long-time philosophy of mine... Have low expectations and they will almost always be exceeded. High expectations are rarely met.

Weather: When we left the temperatures were barely getting out of the 40s during the day. When we got home, it had been 95 that day, and it was still 75 at 8 o'clock at night. Our second floor was like an oven, but I hadn't put the screens in. I hustled around to do that and trade the flannel sheets and down comforter for cotton sheets and a light quilt before bed. The next day was spent packing away all the winter clothes and getting out the summer ones. It made me realize I have way too many clothes. Some of them are business clothes that I can't seem to part with even though I haven't worked for seven years. Life would be much easier if I wore jeans and long sleeve t-shirts in the winter, and khaki shorts and short sleeve t-shirts in the summer.

Swine Flu: I was not very happy that Pipsqueak came home from school yesterday alarmed about "the bad sickness going around". Six year-olds should not feel this way. Apparently, some other kids were freaked out and talking about it which she overheard. I think we need to be educated and informed, but this is not a time to panic. It isn't a pandemic yet, but when/if it is, "pandemic" doesn't mean death. It means wide-spread illness. People die from seasonal flu every year, but they are usually people with underlying conditions which are worsened by the virus. So far, the CDC believes that swine flu isn't any different than seasonal flu in that regard. Having said that though, we can't bury our heads in the sand. It's important to keep up on the news on this from reliable sources.

Mount Vernon - Virginia

2009-04-23T21:18:00.003-04:00

Our last day here was spent at George Washington's home, Mount Vernon.

Our visit started out with a a short film on George Washington's life. We tend to see him in stone or on paper, so it was surprising to me to see what a charismatic and strong man he was. After a lengthy wait in line, we toured the mansion's first two floors, which is decorated in what I would call simple elegance. In one year's time, they had over 670 overnight guests.

There are numerous outbuildings for view including the smokehouse, shoemaker's shop, wash house, and slave quarters.

There is a substantial museum, including this life size, mounted George Washington,
this replica of Martha Washington's wedding dress and slippers,

and George Washington's infamous dentures (which it is forbidden to photograph) that are made of lead and rhinoceros teeth.

We heard a talk by an actress playing the part of Claire, Martha's dearest slave. We learned that George Washington was liked and respected by most of his over 200 slaves. He had a unique, four-tiered method of discipline. The first tier was reward, the second was demotion, third was flogging and fourth was being sent to the Virgin Islands to work in the sugar cane plantations.

We also got to visit with an actress playing the part of Martha Washington. This was very informal... sort of like joining her in her sitting room for a chat. She was charming and engaging, so he learned a lot of historical tidbits, like the fact that all her children pre-deceased her, and she and George raised the two youngest grandchildren as there own.

Tomorrow, we'll be heading home. I have a special treat for myself planned for about half way home, which I'll share on Monday.

The National Air and Space Museum's Steven F. Udvar-Hazy Center

2009-04-22T21:13:00.004-04:00

The Smithsonian had so many huge air and space exhibits that they didn't have room for them at their museum on the National Mall. This center opened in 2003 right next to the Dulles International Airport.

Sweetie was in his element. He once had a pilot's license which he let lapse, but his obsession with aviation is still current. I managed to find plenty to interest me, too. It's just really neat to get to see so many different kinds of aircraft up close... for instance a 202-foot long Air France Concorde. The catwalk makes it possible to see many exhibits from below and above.
The massive space shuttle Enterprise, NASA's 1981 test vehicle dominates the space hanger. It also dominates Pipsqueak. She's the little pink and green dot in the lower center.

Since I find World War II lore fascinating (two of my uncles fought in it), I was particularly thrilled to see the Enola Gay fully restored and reassembled for the first time in more than 40 years. That was the Boeing B-29 Superfortress which dropped the atomic bomb on Hiroshima, Japan on August 6, 1945.
I loved these bomber jackets once worn by World War II fight pilots, one named "Return Ticket" and the other, "Belle of the Brawl".

The PanAm display case was interesting: a Life magazine article from 1968 touting "Newest Stewardess Fad: a Japanese in Every Jet", white gloves for spring and summer and black gloves for fall and winter, and the mandatory girdle, no matter how trim the stewardess... a grooming consultant would do random checks for them.
At the end of the day, we spent about a half hour in the Observation Tower watching the planes land at Dulles.

Smithsonian's Museum of American History and the White House - Washington D.C.

2009-04-21T21:05:00.006-04:00

Today, we arrived at the Musuem of American History about five minutes before it opened and heard "The Star Spangled Banner" being broadcast over loudspeakers outside before the doors were opened to the public. The first thing we did inside was visit the flag that inspired the song. It is an enormous 30' x 34'. It was once 8' longer, but fragments were taken off and given as souveniers up until 1912.

One of my favorite areas of the museum is "Thanks for the Memories," which is entertainment and sports memorabilia, like one pair of Dorothy's ruby slippers from Wizard of Oz (several pairs were used in the movie),and Apollo Anton Ono's ice skates.

We spent quite a bit of time in "The Price of Freedom" section, which surveys the history of U.S. Military. I loved this part of the Vietnam War display. The console televisions and plastic slipcovered furniture took me back to my youth.

It was amazing to be able to touch a fragment of the Berlin Wall,

and it was moving to see this twisted steel column assembly from the 70th floor of the World Trade Center's South Tower. Pipsqueak finally said, "Can we leave war? It's getting depressing." That statement can be taken in more than one way.

We also enjoyed "American Presidency" where we saw Abe Lincoln's hat,

and Sydney's favorite, "First Ladies," where we got to gaze upon all the inaugural ball gowns.

Since the sun had returned, we felt like spending a little time outside. We walked around the perimeter of the White House started with the South lawn,

and the First Lady's vegetable garden.

Then we walked around to the North to see the front entrance.

On our way back, we had a beautiful view of the sunlit capitol looking up Pennsylvania Avenue.

Smithsonian's Museum of Natural History - Washington D.C.

2009-04-20T20:15:00.005-04:00

Museums seem to be notoriously bad places to take photographs. They're dark and everything is enclosed in glass... both enemies of the camera. My last couple of posts have been photo heavy anyway.

I forgot how big the Museum of Natural History was, but it certainly can't be done thoroughly in one day. The only things I remembered were the Hope Diamond and the Western Culture displays. Those two things hadn't changed, but the display case for the diamond was different. Pipsqueak was underwhelmed by it. She thought it would be as big as a house. I guess 45 carats isn't big enough for her. I photographed it in black and white because of the blue cast that the display case had. We were both more interested in the raw minerals and gems on display and discussing how fooled we would be by the pyrite (fool's gold).

The Insect Zoo was new. I got a chuckle out of the fact that it's sponsored by Orkin. There were scorpions, tarantulas, cockroaches, stick bugs, millipedes, centipedes and enough other creepy crawlies to give you the heeby-jeebies for a few days. The Butterfly Pavilion was amazing with about a dozen different species of butterflies fluttering around and sometimes landing on visitors.

Dig It! The Secrets of Soil was a placard heavy display that Pipsqueak breezed right through until we got to the dirt samples from each of the United States and its territories. It was interesting to see how they are rocky, sandy or dense clay and all the shades of black, brown and red. Alabama had the reddest dirt of all.

Other highlights were: pieces of meteorites that have survived the fall to earth, pieces of lava, a giant squid that was caught off the coast of Spain, the salt water aquarium and skeletons of almost any mammal you can think of. We didn't get a thorough look at anything as Pipsqueak was so excited that all I heard all day was, "What's that? Oh. Come on. Let's see more."

The lunch at the Atrium Cafe was quite good. I recommend the soup... chicken noodle in particular.

We saw the Imax movie "Deep Sea 3D" which was fantastic. It seemed so real that I almost felt like I had to hold my breath under water. Sweetie and Pipsqueak modeled their 3D eye wear for me.

I had a couple of funny observations: Some people were trying to visit every exhibit, since I saw them referring to their guide book and stating what they still had left to see. Some shuffled through the exhibits staring blankly at everything and reading nothing like they were on a conveyor belt.

It was rainy and a great day to be shut in a museum. With showers forecast tomorrow, I think we be taking in the Museum of American History.

Mai Thai Restaurant - Alexandria, Virginia

2009-04-19T21:53:00.003-04:00

We had dinner tonight in Alexandra, Virginia at the Mai Thai Restaurant. Matching drinks with our outfits was purely coincidental. Sweetie had the Watermelon Martini, matching his shirt...

I had the Orange Blossom Martini to match my scarf. Pipsqueak's virgin daiquiri didn't match, but the paper umbrella made her day.The Tom Yum soup cleared out my sinuses from the cold with which I've been suffering.
Pipsqueak started with fried calamari. She loved it, but there were only body rings and no tenticles. I think tenticles are the best part.
The Pad Thai was delicious... just the right amount of heat.
The Drunken Noodles with Beef were okay, but the noodles seemed a little over done and it would have benefitted from a little more heat.

The service was fast and attentive. Overall, it was a good meal, but I've been to better thai restaurants.

United States Botanic Garden - Washington D.C.

2009-04-19T21:11:00.003-04:00

The United States Botanic Garden features a 40,000 square foot greenhouse which contains over 60,000 plants. Established in 1820 and open to the public in 1850, it is one of the oldest in North America.

The greenhouse is divided into several areas....

The orchid room.
World deserts where I adored this Old Man Cactus.
These tulips were in the Children's Garden, where kids could actually dig in the dirt and water plants with supervision.
This view is from the catwalk around the top of the jungle room.There were also areas of primeval garden, medicinal plants, and rare and endangered species. I snapped a lot of photos, but I'll share a few favorites.

Our "Memorial Day" in Washington D.C.

2009-04-18T21:55:00.004-04:00

Our original plan was to combine memorial visits with a museum and split them over a couple of days, but today was a perfect weather day for walking. We devoted the entire day to visiting the memorials since showers might be moving in soon.

First, we walked to the base of the Washington Monument. We decided before we left home that we wouldn't take the time to go up. The lines for tickets are long, and the windows to look out are tiny. I did this when I was here in 1978, and while I enjoyed it, it was underwhelming.

From there we went to the World War II Memorial, which is the newest addition to the mall. This fountain and pool are surrounded by 50 pillars representing the states and a larger structure on each side representing the the Atlantic and Pacific theaters. There was a large group of WWII veterans visiting, which made it more moving for me.Then it was on to the Lincoln Memorial. I think this is my favorite memorial because I like how strong and powerful he looks even though he's sitting down.

A hush came over the crowds as they entered the area of the Vietnam War Memorial. People seemed more respectful of this memorial than any other.
We stopped to look at to some of the mementos that had been left by visitors. I didn't care for the wall part of the Korean War Memorial since it was difficult to see etching on black marble, but the statue portion of it was haunting.The Franklin D. Roosevelt Memorial is sprawling and difficult to photograph, but this statue of Eleanor Roosevelt captured her strong presence.Our final stop, was I think the most pictorial, the Jefferson Memorial. The late day sun only added to the beauty.
After walking for six hours, we all had enough. Now to rest so we can do more tomorrow.

Getting There is Half the Fun

2009-04-17T22:22:00.004-04:00

Somehow, Google Map's estimate of 9 hours ending up taking 12 or 13, but we did see some interesting sights and had some fun along the way.

First a tip… When traveling by car with a child or children, you must have plenty of snacks and activities. I packed crackers, rice cakes, oatmeal cookies, grapes, peanuts and water, all in large quantities. Her activities were a set of ten twistable crayons, a pencil, an activity book, a pad of plain paper, three Candy Pop Girls dolls with their pets, a small stuffed bunny and a unicorn and books on CD.

It all went smoothly until just before the George Washington Bridge connecting New York City with New Jersey. It didn’t help that we were there during rush hour, but it took us about an hour and a half to go three miles. The questions reached a fever pitch…”How much longer?” “When will we be there?” “How many miles have we gone since I asked last time?” We were so close (we were spending the night in New Jersey), but yet, so far.

Finally, after leaving Vermont about midday Thursday and driving through Massachusetts, Connecticut and New York, we arrived at our resting spot in Summit, New Jersey about 7:30 pm. Pipsqueak got some good cous’ buzz playing with her cousins, and I got to check out how my sister-in-law is doing with her breast cancer battle. While her breasts are looking amazingly good three weeks post-op with the tissue expanders in for her reconstruction, her face tells the tale, as she seems to have lost a little brightness and twinkle she once had. With five weeks of radiation to come, I don’t think I’d look very bright and twinkly either.

About midday Friday, we were southbound again. We left New Jersey and drove into Pennsylvania. A friend of ours recommended Pat's King of Steaks in Philadelphia at the corner of Wharton and 9th to get a Philly cheese steak, so we got off the highway for a little side trip. While in line, we were told by a local that it was the best cheese steak in all of Philly, and he wouldn’t even look at the flashier spot across the road.

He also instructed us in the art of ordering. If you’re familiar with Seinfeld’s soup Nazi, these are the cheese steak Nazis. If you don’t order the right way, you’ll be ignored and they’ll call “Next!” We got our order accepted with my, “Two Americans, One Wit.” I have to admit, I was a little frightened at the prospect of being rejected. They lived up to their reputation, and we were plenty satisfied even though we shared with Pipsqueak.

Back on the highway, we left Pennsylvania, drove through Delaware, Maryland, and around Washington DC on the beltway where we’re were again delayed by commuter traffic and into Virginia where we’re staying with Sweetie’s cousin. Tomorrow, the D.C. adventures begin.

My Wandering Mind

2009-04-14T21:43:00.002-04:00

With a martini in hand (very dry, very dirty, shaken) and my mind racing, I'm not sure how coherent I'll be. This could be a lesson in the reasons why you shouldn't drink and blog.

Vacation

We're leaving Thursday for a week in Washington, D.C. I haven't been there since 1978, and I'm looking forward to sharing all my favorites with Pipsqueak and discovering some new things. Why does going away have to be so stressful? I wish it was as simple as marking out the time on the calendar and throwing a few things in a bag. Instead, there's all this planning and preparing: how will we get there, where will we stay, what will we do, who will watch the dog and the fish, are the bills paid, how warm/cold will it be there... don't forget to hold the mail, take the garbage out, pay any bills that are do.

And I hate packing! It's not the act of putting clothes in the bag; it's deciding what to bring. I don't want to need something I don't have, but I don't want a lot of stuff I don't need either.

Portuguese Water Dogs

Pirates are threatening retaliation, the economy is still in the gutter, unemployment is skyrocketing and we're still fighting a war. But what is making headlines today? The president's dog, and whether or not it is a rescue! Come on. Who really cares. It sounds like going to the pound and getting the one that tugged most at their heartstrings was not an option because of their daughter's allergies. Give them a break, people, and let's concentrate on what's really important.

Taxes

Tomorrow there will be a giant sucking sound as the IRS removes money from our account. I hope they make good use of my money. I was thinking a new kitchen floor and/or lighting. Perhaps I should invite the IRS over to have a look at my ugly yellow linoleum that's starting to crack, take pity on me and return my money. Fat chance!

I'm going to try to blog about my trip while I'm away providing that I can tap into a wireless internet connection. Since I travel with my own private IT guy, who is also the guy I sleep with, chances are good.

Perfect Little Cupcakes

2009-04-13T20:21:00.004-04:00

I saw Giada De Laurentiis making these cupcakes on the Today Show last week. There were a couple of little girls helping her, and I thought, "Ooo, how fun for Pipsqueak and me." It was one project that did live up to the expectation. The cupcakes are delicious and simple and, we did have fun making them.

Mascarpone Mini-Cupcakes with Strawberry Glaze

8 ounces mascarpone cheese, softened
2 egg whites
1/4 cup vegetable oil
1 box Duncan Hines white cake mix
1/3 cup frozen strawberries, thawed and drained
2 1/2 cups confectioners sugar

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 4 mini muffins tine (a total of 48 muffins) with paper liners.

In a large bowl combine cheese, egg whites and vegetable oil. Using a mixer, beat the ingredients until combines and creamy. Add the cake mix and 1 cup water and mix until smooth, about 3 minutes. Fill the muffin liners to just below the rim and bake until puffed and golden about 18 to 20 minutes. Remove from the oven, let cool slightly in the tins, then transfer the cupcakes to a wire rack to cool completely.

Meanwhile, puree the strawberries in a blender or small food processor. Sift the confectioners sugar and place in a medium bowl. Pour in the strawberry puree and whisk until smooth. Either dip the tops of the cooled cupcakes into the glaze or spread glaze on muffin. Let the cupcakes sit for a few minutes for the glaze to firm up, then serve.

Happy Easter

2009-04-10T16:19:00.004-04:00

from me...

Pipsqueak...

and Sweetie....

Easter Peeps

2009-04-10T10:30:00.006-04:00

Ever wonder where all the unsold Peeps go? On vacation, of course.

Pipsqueak is going to wonder how her Polly Pocket playset got sticky, but that's what happens when Peeps go on Spring Break. (Click on image to enlarge for a full peep peak.)

Freebie Friday

2009-04-10T07:12:00.001-04:00

Here are a couple of freebies for you:
Here's one for a Mr. Clean Eraser
http://www.cleanupthatfilthyhouse.com/apr_01.php

And another one for Quaker Rice Snacks
http://www.quakerricesnacks.com/offers/

More Evidence that They're from a Different Planet

2009-04-09T13:27:00.002-04:00

Remember the whole "Women are from Venus, Men are from Mars" stuff that was going on eight or ten years ago? I read a couple of the books. They made a few good points, but mostly I found them.... well.... boring and repetitive.

Mostly, Sweetie and I see eye-to-eye on things. Sure, we have our little squabbles, but he is my soul mate and my best friend. But (of course, there had to be a but) every once in a while, something will happen, and I'm in disbelief at his reaction, and I wonder, "What planet is he on?" It's not that I'm right, and he's wrong; it's just that we seem to see it completely differently.

For instance, early this week I got a letter from Pipsqueak's school. She's in a multi-age class of K-2. Next, year the kindergartners will be separate and Pipsqueak's teacher, Mrs. W, will become a straight K teacher. We had expected to have her for a third year. Her class will be split between two other teachers, and Pipsqueak will be in a 1-2 class. I filled Sweetie in so we could tell Pipsqueak after dinner. "Why do you sound so grave?" he asked. "Grave" may have been a stronger word than what I was feeling, but I wasn't happy about the news. I love Mrs. W and the way she teaches, Pipsqueak loves her, too. She would be in a different room, with a different teacher, with different ways of doing things, with different kids and separated from some of the kids she's been with for two years, two of which are her best friends. I knew there would be tears, fears, questions and adjustments.

We told her, and I tried to sound upbeat about it. Of course, she cried. I comforted her and made suggestions for adjusting to this, like her and I meeting with her new teacher, touring the classroom and discussing how she does things. Sweetie said things like,"Change is good," and "Life is full of changes." I don't know who helped more or if it was the collaboration, but she seem to have accepted her fate.

The next morning at school, one of the other moms, Leah, and I got teary while talking to Mrs. W. Leah called me later and we discussed the whole situation: what we knew about the other teachers and the students in the other two rooms. She said her husband, like mine, thought it wasn't a big deal, and had said the same things Sweetie had said.

I didn't understand his laissez faire attitude when I felt in such turmoil and cast into a sea of change and uncertainty. Is it a woman's way to overreact and over analyze, and a man's way to shrug their shoulders and take what comes? It hard to believe that one chromosome can make so much difference sometimes.

Remember When-sday - At the Office

2009-04-08T15:56:00.003-04:00

Do you remember...

The Palmer Method
red and black ribbons
Gregg shorthand
typing erasers with brushes on the end
the smell of mimeographs
microfilm and microfiche
Dictaphones
elite and pica
carbon paper
before fax machines
wite out
typing off the paper if you didn't pay attention

My Iron Requirement

2009-04-07T11:15:00.003-04:00

I lied. I didn't come back Monday. I wasn't inspired. Some sun might help. It has been cloudy or rainy here for more days than I can remember and now it's snowing. There's no chance of seeing that yellow orb in the sky until Thursday. Even my dog, Monty, is fed up. He goes out to do business, and then comes back in and goes to bed. Normally, he stays out for hours barking at the birds.

If the sun wasn't going to inspire me, I sought some inspiration from you, the bloggers that I love and read. Claire from This and That and K from Blog Goggles blogged about things they want, so I started thinking about what I want. Thanks for the inspiration, ladies.

I want a Lodge cast iron grill pan. I'm addicted to cast iron, which is something that I thought would never happen. Sweetie got this 12" pan, the first in our cast iron collection. I hated it. It was too heavy, and I couldn't move it around easily. Once I started using it, I loved its even heat and versatility. I can brown meat on the stove and put the whole pan in the oven to roast. I also love how easy it is to clean... just rinse and scrub with a brush and rinse again. This pan lives on our stove because it gets used at least once a day.

We got a cast iron dutch oven or stock pot on temporary loan from some relatives that were between houses. Once they reclaimed it, I had to go out immediately and buy one for myself. It is the cooking vessel for every soup and stew I make. I couldn't live without it.

My non-stick omelet pan wasn't living up to its name anymore and had to be replaced. Not surprising after 10+ years of frequent service. I found this set of cast iron pans at the thrift store, and I use the middle one for omelets. I don't know what brand they are, and the quality doesn't seem as good as Lodge, but I like the ergonomic handles.

We have one more pan in our collection... a whopping 15" inches in diameter. This one is a bit much for me to handle, but it's necessary if we're cooking meat for more than four people. I can roast an average size turkey in this. It only comes out when we have company.

Sweetie thinks that the difference of cooking in the grill pan would be insignificant, and virtually the same and using the flat pan. Does anyone have any experience or thoughts on this?

(I apologize for the quality of the photographs. Cast iron and flash photography are not friends, but today's natural light is dim or dimmer.)

Fear of the Unknown

2009-04-02T13:56:00.003-04:00

I've been away from Blogger for a few days, and tried to turn my lack of inspiration into perspiration. I did get a lot done, and I'll share a few of my accomplishments next week. Part the lack of inspiration may have stemmed from my mind dwelling on my upcoming oral surgery, which I had this morning.

I realized something about myself. I deal with adversity very well. I can overcome problems, withstand pain and when there's a battle, I'll form a detailed battle plan. What I don't deal with very well is uncertainty. It's best for me to get unpleasantness done and out of the way rather than postpone it, because I can work myself up into a real tizzy imagining and wondering. This surgery is a perfect example.

I've had surgery twice in my life, both of which had unpleasant side effects unrelated to the cause of the surgery. I had my impacted wisdom teeth extracted which resulted in nerve damage. The right side of my tongue was numb for about six months. I also had a c-section. I had an allergy to the adhesive on the bandage which left painful burns. I spent a fair amount of my first week at home with frozen peas in my pants to numb the pain. The incision itself wasn't painful much at all, and all I took was ibuprofen.

So these experiences left me a little apprehensive about surgery. I had an 8mm lump on the roof of my mouth on the border of the hard and soft palate. My dentist wanted me to see an oral surgeon, who ultimately thought it should come off even though it didn't look like a scary kind of lump. "Even though it doesn't bother me?" I asked incredulously. He sagely stated," High blood pressure doesn't bother anyone until they have a stroke, and then it's a little late." It's hard to argue with that kind of reasoning, and Sweetie backed him up with, "At our age, we have to get these kinds of things taken care of." (I hate being at the age, where you can use the phrase "at our age".)

I wasn't worried about the pain, I can take it. I didn't like the idea of a "mush and gruel" menu for a few days, but hey, maybe I'll lose weight. What nagged my brain was what else might happen... something that I might night be prepared for.

So far, all seems normal. The surgery was done before I knew he started. Putting the stitches in made me gag, but he told me I was a great patient. I get to eat all the popsicles I want, because the cold is good for pain and swelling. I've already had eight. The novocain wore off a couple of hours ago, and now it feels now it feel like I burned the roof of my mouth on really hot pizza. The stitches feel like I have a dog hair in my throat. Could it be possible that I just had pleasant surgery? (I'll be back on Monday.)

When I Grow Up

2009-03-30T12:21:00.005-04:00

Pipsqueak asked me this morning, "When I know what I want to be when I grow up, who do I tell?" I managed not to laugh, and I explained how she would study in college to be what she wanted, and once she had her degree, she would look for a job. If only it was that simple. It got me reflecting on my own history of choices in profession and how it all worked out.

When I was six (her age). I wanted to be a dental assistant because I had a crush on a boy who said he wanted to be a dentist. I thought that would be cozy, the two of us working side by side. That lasted a few years until I started noticing other boys and mined my own interests. Then I decided I wanted to be an actress, and I had a plan. I was going to buy a van and drive to California. Once there I would attend Pepperdine University because "Battle of the Network Stars" was filmed there. (OK, stop laughing; I was young, delusional and highly influence by television.) In high school, I realized acting was a cutthroat competitive business, and I got bitten by the writing bug, so journalism became my choice. Here's where it gets complicated.

I was a good student, in the top ten percent of the class. I was accepted at every college to which I applied, but due to confusion in my personal life, self-doubt and financial fears, I didn't go. Where was my guidance counselor?! I don't remember who it was or even talking to one. My mom didn't finish high school, so she had no expectations, and didn't question my decision... or should I call it indecision.

After graduation, I got a job as a bank teller and later advanced to customer service, but it wasn't particularly challenging or creative work. After six years, I'd had enough, and got a job at a road construction company counting rocks. Well, that's the simple explanation of what I did... briefly, until I was laid off. One of the officers there told me about an attorney he knew that was looking for a secretary. Long story short, I was hired, loved the work, and took online courses to get an Associates Degree in Paralegal Studies. I worked there for eleven years, until I had Pipsqueak. Being a paralegal allowed me to exercise my writing muscle (even though it was filled with "therefores" and "wheretos").

What a windy road to get where I am with so many intersections along the way that could have taken me in many different directions. Do I have regrets? No, because a different road would have taken me away from where I am now, I wouldn't have met Sweetie (who I met at that law office when he came to work on our computers) and I wouldn't have Pipsqueak. I still feel like I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do. For me, it's a never ending journey. I sometimes envy those that knew early on what they wanted to do and found out it was a perfect fit. A friend of mine told me in seventh grade that he wanted to be a doctor, and he's an OB/GYN.

I hope Pipsqueak's road will be more clear and less bumpy than mine. We'll make sure she has all the encouragement and guidance that she needs.

The Leg Bone's Connected to the Hip Bone...

2009-03-27T14:00:00.004-04:00

Yesterday, I had a physical therapy appointment to try to deal with the tennis elbow that's been dogging me since before Christmas. It turns out my elbow is related to a problem with my shoulder, which is related to a problem with my back, which is related to a problem with my hip. I have tightness and constriction through my whole right side.

He started with few tests, like laying on my back and tilting my toes toward each other. My right foot only went half the distance of my left. He showed me that my right leg is about a half inch shorter than my left due to the constriction of muscles. It has also effected my posture, and he thinks I'm carrying myself an inch an a half shorter than I should. That explains why the doctor's office has measured me at 5'8" instead of 5'10" for the past couple of years. This also explains the wrist pain I had a while back, and all those little pains in my hips, back, shoulders and neck that I thought was just part of being over 40.

He asked if I skied. I hardly call my efforts to get from of the top of the mountain to the bottom skiing, but I said I did a little. He told me that if I was a serious skier, I would probably notice turning more difficult in one direction than the other because I wouldn't be able to get an edge. I didn't ski at all last year. I went once this year, and the third trip down, I did have trouble turning one way without feeling like I was going to fall. I thought I was just out of shape. When I was out snowshoeing this year, my hips would ache after a few minutes. I blamed it again on being out of shape, but it was probably more due to my "unbalanced load".

He did some trigger point therapy and craniosacral therapy on me, went over proper posture for sitting and standing , and gave me some home exercises. I'm also supposed to check and adjust my posture a couple of times an hour. He thinks I'll be fixed in four to five more weekly visits. It's probably just the placebo effect, but I think I feel a little better already.

Remember When-sday - Telephones

2009-03-25T14:08:00.003-04:00

Do you remember:

glass-enclosed phone booths with folding doors
one phone company
party lines
before answering machines
only having to dial 5 numbers for local calls
switchboards
phone books on chains at pay phones
before 911
before caller ID
busy signals
dialing long distance through an operator
rings that actually sounded like bells
princess trimline phones

having to redial because you caught your finger in the dial
dialing your own number and hanging up quickly and your phone would ring
calling the operator for the correct time
being able to move only as far as the cord would reach?

Cancer

2009-03-24T10:00:00.004-04:00

Today, my sister in law had a double mastectomy. My fingers kind of froze after typing that. The words aren't coming easy to express all that I'm feeling: worry, anger, sadness.

I remember the morning, she called and told me about her diagnosis. I wanted to cry because I knew there were unpleasant things coming in her future... things you can't avoid or run from... not if you want to live. She had a great attitude through the chemo, and managed to stay upbeat as much as anyone can that has no energy and feels like throwing up. When her hair started to fall out, she cut it short and dyed it orange. When it got too thin, she shaved it off and bought a bunch of wigs. I joked with her at Thanksgiving as all the kids ran around the house wearing her wigs, that she was making cancer look like too much fun.

In reality, I knew it wasn't any fun. The diagnosis alone would make me want to curl up in a corner and pull dirty laundry over my head hoping no one would ever find me, but the treatment is no walk in the park. First there are all the tests and opinions, the chemo with all its side effects and the surgery. How do you prepare yourself to get that which makes us feel feminine removed? I know, they're just breasts, but I'm rather attached to mine. They make my clothes hang nicely and my husband's eyes twinkle; they alone nourished my child for her first four months. It would be hard to say good bye. My sister-in-law is going to have reconstruction, but I wonder if they will ever really feel like hers, or will it be like when you get a tooth crowned... It works the same, but you can tell it's not original equipment.

Mostly, I'm glad she's alive and the prognosis is good. But I wish she hadn't had to experience this. I wish no one did.

Let Them Eat Cake.

2009-03-23T19:27:00.003-04:00

Sunday was Sweetie's birthday. I asked him what sort of cake he wanted, because around here, you get what you want... once a year. He asked for vanilla cake with chocolate frosting and he wanted it from scratch. Alrighty then... Betty and Duncan (Crocker and Hines, that is) were getting the day off, but I wasn't. I found exactly what I was looking for here at Fine Cooking with the added bonus of being 4 layers and having a raspberry jam/Grand Marnier filling.

He couldn't wait to dig in, although security tried to hold him back.

My evaluation... Making the cake was easy. The frosting had quite a few steps and nearly every measuring cup and spoon in the house had been dirtied. The cake could have been a little more moist, and the frosting seemed at bit too buttery, but the birthday boy was happy.

Am I Too Old for Pop? Me and Katy Perry.

2009-03-20T17:10:00.004-04:00

Thanks to all the computer equipment Sweetie has to buy for his business, we had a $10 rewards certificate for Best Buy that was about to expire. I went in today and browsed the movies. I didn't find anything that I cared about owning, so I thought I'd check out music. I haven't bought any music in at least five years. I mostly listen to 80s rock and I could count on my fingers the new artists that I like, but I do like Katy Perry. She writes her own songs, which are similar to the tortured twenties poetry I used to write. She's quirky and crazy without being controversial, she's popular yet private, and breaks fashion barriers to call attention to herself. She reminds me of me at her age... minus the fame, talent and recording contract.

I picked up the Katy Perry CD and headed to check-out. I was looking forward to popping it in the CD player and rocking out to "I Kissed a Girl." The cashier, a friendly 20-something, told me what a good album it is. "Is it for your daughter?" "No." I grinned sheepishly. "Oh," unsuccessfully concealing her surprise, "it's for you!" Apparently, I don't meet the Katy Perry demographic. As a forty-something, did she expect I'd be picking up some easy-listening?

Natasha Richardson Dead After Tragic Accident

2009-03-18T20:27:00.008-04:00

Most have you have probably heard that Natasha Richardson, 45, died on Wednesday. She fell while taking a ski lesson at Mont Tremblant, on a beginner trail. She got up laughing seemingly unhurt and refused medical treatment. An hour or so later, she developed a blinding headache. In less than 24 hours, she was declared brain dead, transported to New York so her family could say goodbye, and was removed from life support. This makes me feel sad... almost sick inside.

She got up Tuesday morning, just like we all did, thinking it would be an ordinary day. She had plans... probably had plans well into the future. She didn't think about her own mortality. She didn't expect that she would never again get out of bed to greet another morning. We don't go through our lives thinking about the accidents that might happen; we take our lives for granted unless we're diagnosed with some serious illness. It's sad when someone dies of an illness, but there is time... time to prepare, to say goodbyes and I-love-yous. A serious accident doesn't provide that opportunity. One minute, you're living life, and then life is gone, and the loved ones left behind are shocked and devastated.

She had two sons, ages 13 and 12. There's no good time to lose a parent, but they're too young to have it happen to them. There are so many events and rights of passage in their lives when they will miss her: first dates, prom nights, graduations, weddings and more. And there will be ordinary days when they'll feel the hole she's left behind, when they just need their mother's arms around them. Even big boys need hugs from time to time.
Natasha was a classy lady. She and Liam Neeson had been married for 14 years. She led a quiet life, that kept her name out of the tabloids. Her boys were unrecognizable to the public, which probably allowed them to lead fairly normal lives. She was a talented actress who chose meaty roles in Hollywood and Broadway. She leaves an excellent example for celebrities to follow.

Perhaps she leaves an example for us as well. Maybe we'll appreciate life and those we love a little bit more... even for a few minutes.

Remember When-sday - Cars

2009-03-18T14:05:00.002-04:00

It's been a couple of weeks since I did a look back. This week it's cars. Do you remember:

The Edsel, the Rambler, the Studebaker, the Thing
Push button transmissions
Bench seats
Shift levers on the steering column
Low riders
Kit cars
Dune buggy kits
Baby on board signs on suction cups
Styrofoam Balls on top of the antenna
Before radios and when there was only radios
Before seat belts
Chrome details
White wall tires
The VW bus
Before fuel injection?

Signs of Spring

2009-03-17T20:09:00.003-04:00

The snow is dwindling and there are definite signs of spring outside.

Towns put up signs like this near dirt roads. Why, you may ask? To prevent things like this from getting worse.
How come when I'm out looking for them, I can't find a decent mud rut to photograph. When I'm not looking, they're lurking around corners, ready to swallow my car whole and spit it back out again if I'm lucky. Seriously, they can get pretty deep... I've seen them over a foot deep. There are over 73 miles of dirt road in our town, so we take mud season pretty seriously. The worst of it is usually over in two or three weeks. Then the town moves through with some big equipment and grades it smooth.

There are lots of buckets hanging from sugar maple trees and miles of tubing running through the woods. With the few warm days we've had, the sap is running like a water fountain.
There are huge maple sugaring operations, but there are lots of "backyard" sugars that only make a few gallons. It takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of syrup. That's a lot of water being boiled off.

Even the small operators have a sugar house. No one will boil in their house because it will steam the wallpapers off the walls.

The sheep venture out of the barn hoping to find a few fresh shoots growing up from the bare spots.

The donkey, their companion and protector, gently accepted an offering of Pipsqeak's apple core. Donkeys are often kept with sheep to protect them from coyotes.Many people can't understand why we would want to live here and put up with long, cold, snowy, icy winters. Winter has it's fun and challenges, but if we didn't have it, I wouldn't get to enjoy the overwhelming sense of well being I've had the past few days when I feel the warm sun and get to roll the car windows down a bit.

Cabinet Revelations

2009-03-15T16:41:00.005-04:00

My blogging friends were a prolific bunch this weekend. I had a lot of reading to do today to catch up since I've been busy working. As I expected, it took nearly three days to clean and organize my cabinets. They look soooo much better and everything feels more convenient even though I made very few changes.

I got rid of a lot of stuff. It's hard to part with things... everything has a story and memories, but I have to remember that just because the THING is gone, doesn't mean the story is gone too. We had two drip coffee makers, we haven't been drinking drip coffee at home in almost seven years... GONE. There were a couple of vases that I received as gifts that I didn't like... GONE. I have a big pile of stuff to sort; what will go to goodwill and what should just be thrown out.

I used to be a Pampered Chef junkie. I think I went to something like 20 parties in a year. I practically owned the entire product line. I had a couple of things that were brand new and unused in ten years. I'll try to resell those. I'm glad I've overcome my PC addiction.

There were a few things I couldn't bear to toss. One was an oyster knife even though we've never eaten oysters at home. Maybe we will; it's probably much cheaper to eat them at home. I made rediscoveries... things I haven't used in a long time because I forgot I had them. They'll get a stay of execution until the next clean out to see if a more convenient location will bring them into use.

Going through my pantry cabinet, I realized that I shouldn't have to grocery shop for about a month. There is way too much stuff in there, and I need to start planning meals around it. There's a surfeit of egg noodles, so we'll have some beef stroganoff soon. I've got to figure out what to do with two cans of coconut milk. I think I have an Asian recipe that uses it.

I'm taking a day to tidy the rest of the house because the clutter monster took over while I wasn't looking. Then it's back to the master list and more deep cleaning.

Progress and a Knitting Update

2009-03-12T17:30:00.005-04:00

I feel much better hearing that so many of my internet friends feel like I do. Misery really does love company. I made my list, and managed to stick to one project all day... kitchen cabinets. I've almost finished tidying and cleaning the bottom ones.

Our kitchen is huge. We have 16 cabinets, 14 drawers and 2 floor-to-ceiling pantry cabinets. I have at least 2 more full days of cleaning before they're all done. I'm taking everything out, cleaning the inside, re-organizing and cleaning the outside. I'm getting rid of a lot... bye-bye sippy cups, plastic bowls, storage containers without lids, lids without storage containers, broken things and things that haven't been used in say five or ten years. It feels good.

To show that I'm still a little scattered and can't stick with one thing...

It occurred to me the other day that I haven't done a post about knitting in... well... forever. I do love knitting, and I'm working on something almost every night. I knit in scattered fashion, too, so I have four or five ongoing projects. I do have to have a portable project that doesn't require a lot of concentration for car trips and long wait, and I leave more complicated, pattern following projects for home. I have finished a few things recently.

A pair of socks for me,

A pair for Pipsqueak

A shawl in angora and mohair (I wish it was a little longer, but I ran out of yarn),

And mittens.

Scattered!

2009-03-11T16:26:00.003-04:00

What is wrong with me?! I can't seem to stick with anything lately. I actually forget what I'm doing sometimes until I get back to that area and find the remains of whatever I was doing sitting there. I've started cleaning up my office, straightening and cleaning kitchen cabinets, recovering dining room chairs, making greeting cards, making jean bags, and who knows what else. This afternoon I started thinking about spring cleaning Pipsqueak's room, which would involve pulling everything out of there and doing a thorough cleaning. It was then I became aware of what I was doing and slammed on the brakes.

Maybe it's spring fever. There are so many things I want to do, but I've been busy with meetings and appointments the last couple of weeks, so I've had little time for big projects. Whatever, it is, it's got to stop because I'm getting a lot of things started and nothing done.

Tonight, I'm going to make a list. (I love lists!) I will write down all the projects I want to do for the next two or three months. I always get a feeling of accomplishment when I make a list and get to cross something off. My list will help me remember what I've been working on and give me choices so I can do something I really feel like doing. I'll make a rule that I can't have more than three projects in progress at one time.... okay, maybe four.

We Temporarily Interrupt This Blog Post

2009-03-09T14:02:00.003-04:00

Today was going to be a post about the signs of spring. They are out there; I saw them this weekend. But then spring decided to pull a blanket over its head and going back to sleep... a blanket in the form of six inches of fresh snow. Mother Nature is a fickle woman.

Instead, I will send a little doggy cuteness your way. We were watching a show on PBS a few nights ago about Yellowstone Park, and specifically the wolves, coyotes and foxes that live there. Monty thought this was much better than the usual fair of reality shows and crime dramas, so he found a good place for viewing and gave it his rapt attention.

He tried to communicate with them through a series of woofs and low growls, but an adequate response was not forthcoming. I guess he will never find out how to score a mouthful of meat like this.

Mmmm - Mashed Potato Pancakes

2009-03-05T16:02:00.003-05:00

A few days ago Kittalog blogged about some Mashed Potato Pancakes. It just about killed me. I had to have some. So the other night I made way too many mashed potatoes accidentally on purpose, and in the morning I served these up with scrambled eggs and bacon.

They were sooooo good. I could feel the plaque collecting in my arteries and my system was in shock since I rarely eat fried foods, but I was in heaven. Here's the recipe:

Mashed Potato Pancakes

2 cups mashed potato
1 egg, slightly beaten
6 T flour
4 T thinly sliced green onions
salt and pepper
vegetable oil for frying

In bowl, combine potato and egg. Add flour and onions and mix thoroughly. Salt and pepper to taste. In a large heavy skillet, heat 1/8" vegetable oil over moderately high heat until it is hot, but not smoking. Fry heaping tablespoons of the mixture, flattening them slightly with the back of a spoon, until they are golden brown on each side. Drain on paper towel covered plate. Serve hot.

Souvenirs

2009-03-04T16:52:00.005-05:00

Sweetie returned home last weekend from his ski trip in Austria. I'm so glad he's back, so I have someone to laugh at my lame jokes and warm my cold feet at night.

I am certain that I wouldn't want to be a single mother. Pipsqueak is an easy, well-behaved girl, but it's tiring being on all the time. Every question, every need, every request, every demand relied on me. Sometimes we moms need to pass the ball, get out of the game and sit on the bench.

Pipsqueak received a beautiful loden cape from Austria, but Sweetie said he was stymied when looking for a gift for me, and he didn't want to get something for the sake of getting something. Good for him. He did think of me, however, while at his London connection on the way home.

Cadbury Dairy Milk is probably my favorite chocolate, but it has to be ones made in the UK, NOT the US. The US stuff is a totally different texture. The UK makes it smooth and creamy. I remember the first one I ever had at a tube stop in London. It was summer, so it was a little soft, and it was love at first taste. I'll be making these last... only a couple little squares a day, eaten slowly and allowed to melt in the mouth.

Two Goals Accomplished

2009-03-03T13:16:00.002-05:00

I feel like doing a happy dance right here in my kitchen. I got two major things done today... one I hated and one that excited me.

I did the worst part first, and finished putting all the tax stuff together to send to the accountant. I don't mind paperwork and paying bills... I even enjoy it a little bit, truth be told, but when it comes to taxes, I'm crippled. It's all fear and uncertainty for me. It's too complicated and I don't understand it, therefore I fear it. But it's done and in the envelope sealed. Now I'll just sit back and sweat until the accountant tells us if we owe are are owed.

Then on to the good stuff. I finally launched my Etsy shop. I'm starting with selling earrings, but will add some other things later. The organza bags I ordered to package the earrings in are still being held hostage in US Customs in China. They've been there since February 5th. I bought a few from a US vendor which cost more and aren't as big, but at least I could get started. If you want to have a peek, go to http://www.etsy.com/shop.php?user_id=6649643. I put up about half my earring inventory today, and will put up more later in the week.