Don't Throw It Out

I just finished reading "Don't Throw It Out: Recycle, Renew and Reuse to Make Things Last" by Lori Baird and the Editors of Yankee Magazine. It was a fun and informative book, and organized in way that I loved. It had chapters for nearly every room in the house, along with Sports and Hobbies, Lawn and Garden, Home Workshop, and Cars and Trucks.

It gave ideas for new uses for old things like terracotta pots that were broken, old cutting boards, old tires and more. Under the Recreation Room chapter, there were sections on knitting, quilting, scrapbooking, general crafting and books... topics near and dear to my heart.

At the end of each chapter is a quiz, so you can check what you learned, but that felt too much like school to me, so I skipped them. At the end of the book, there are resources on where to buy recycled art, frames made from tires, hubcap creatures, items made from from old 45s and LPs and more. There is also a section on how to dispose of TVs, computers, tools, quilts, running shoes, etc.

I was using one of those irritating magazine subscription cards as a book mark (I try to find uses for those darn things), and I found myself ripping it in strips to marks sections that I wanted to make a note of later. One of my favorites was making fire starters out of old egg cartons, dryer lint and and candle wax. You know, I've been looking for other ways to use my dryer lint. I usually throw it out for the birds to make nests with, and I'm not sure they really appreciate it.

Another was using a product called PlastiDip to coat garden tool handles. It will give them a more comfortable grip, and it comes in bright colors so it will be easy to spot your tools outside. I don't believe in conspiracy theories, but it's certainly a sly marketing ploy to make garden tools in greens, browns and blacks. Once you put them down and walk away, you will never find them again. It's the Bermuda Triangle of gardening.

Check this book out of your local library, sit down with a cup of tea and a few magazine subscription cards cut into strips and find yourself in useful-tip-heaven.

The Spice of Life

I used to hate buying spices for cooking. They were so expensive ($3 and $4 a jar and up), and the jars were too big. Spices have a limited shelf life and if they aren't used within a few months the flavor weakens. Another problem was that I had all these jars rattling around in the cupboard, but I could never find what I wanted, so I'd end up with three jars of cayenne and two jars of turmeric, and on and on.

A few years ago... back when the American dollar was strong against the Canadian... ah, sweet memories... we were browsing a kitchen shop in Old Quebec City. I found test tube spice racks. It was a eureka moment. All my spice problems were solved. They were right size... not so big that I'd be throwing out spice... not so small that they'd need refilling too often. They would be organized... I was nearly overcome with thoughts of making labels and alphabetizing. I get that way sometimes.

I bought three sets... enough to hold 30 spices, and I've never had a moment of regret. The cooperative market where I do all my grocery shopping sells bulk spices. At a glance, I can check the racks to see what I'm running low on and stock up. Today, I bought enough cumin to fill my test tube for a mere 60 cents.

I found these spice racks online here for $27.99, but you could also make your own. Edmunds Scientific currently has test tubes for sale at 50 cents. The corks can be purchased at most hardware stores for a few cents, and there are lots of online sources for test tube racks in a gazillion different styles. If you or someone you know is moderately handy with a drill and simple woodworking, I don't think it would be too difficult to make a rack. I used a Brother PT-65 for making my labels, but I see the "official" spice tubes come with labels.

I feel like a wizard mixing up potions when I cook.

Competition

On Saturday, Pipsqueak was in her first horse show... also her first competition. She seemed calm and cool about the whole thing. She rode in two events: Walk Lead Line and Walk/Trot Lead Line.

I was snapping photos and shooting video during the first event with nary a care in the world. Then they announced the winners and Pipsqueak got second place. I was surprised and proud. I even got a little misty eyed. Suddenly, I became a different person. I felt something that I'm not sure I've ever felt before... competitive.

During the second event, I still snapped and shot, but I was also sizing up the competition. How was their posting? Posture? Did Pipsqueak have a chance at first place?

I've never been a competitive person. I played some sports in elementary and middle school (basketball, soccer, softball), but I was never particularly good (too klutzy), and I never felt the burning desire to crush the opponents. Mostly, I played because I enjoyed the social aspect of it... spending time with friends.

In high school, I was involved in drama and band. Trying out for plays wasn't too bad since I didn't have to actually see my competitors. I showed up at my appointed time, read and left. Later, I checked the list to see if I got a part. If I didn't, I'd work in production. Band was another thing entirely. We had to play each year for levels and seats. If you thought you were better than the person above you, you could challenge them at any time during the year. I played first clarinet all four years, and gradually worked my way up to second seat. I never challenged anyone, and I felt fortunate that no one ever challenged me since there was some challenging in the clarinet section. The flautists were cut-throat; there were challenges over there all the time. When someone was challenged, I felt the nerves and sweatiness for them.

As an adult, I've never felt like I was competing, not for jobs, salaries, anything. I always felt that I just had to be the best I could be, not necessarily better than anyone else in particular. Little did I know there was a competitive monster within me waiting for the next generation to go forth and win.

I am will not to be one of those parents that coach and criticize from the sidelines. I prefer instead to be a cheerleader. Maybe... hopefully, I'm no different than any other parent that wants the best for their child... for them to succeed and be happy.

I asked Pipsqueak how she felt in the ring. Did she feel nervous or like she had to win? "No, I was just happy to be riding a pony." She's a chip off the ol' block.

Highway Department Humor

After many months of traffic delays, detours and driving over pavement in progress, even the Highway Department realizes that patience was running thin...



As Sweetie said to me, "It's been... well... a long road."

Friendship

Today I got to "play" with a friend. We sat, talked and sipped seltzer for a couple of hours while our kids played in the pool. We discussed what we've been doing, where we've been, what we've seen and read and general philosophies of life. We laughed, commiserated, cheered and supported. What a rare treat! I don't live a Wisteria Lane existence where desperate housewives are always dropping in for card games, coffee and gossip. Good quality friend time is infrequent, and it got my thinking about friendships in general.

Making friends was easy in school. I'm not sure how elementary age kids do it. I couldn't remember my own experiences, so I asked Pipsqueak how she picks kids as friends. She replied, "When they start being nice to me, I decide I want to be friends with them." Somehow, I think it's more than that... some sort of initial attraction. I don't know if it's something physical or a common way of communicating, but somehow kids seem drawn to certain kids and not to others. For little extroverts, like Pipsqueak, ice breaking is never a problem. She unselfconsciously introduces herself and asks the potential friend's name. Before you know it, they're running around giggling like they've been friends since birth.

In high school and college, we tend to make friends with those that have common interests. I spent most of my time with kids in band and drama. This is the time that friendships grow deeper. Friends don't play together anymore, but spend time talking and sharing secrets, hopes, desires and fears. These friendships often last a lifetime. I have friends from school that I still consider very good friends even though we may only be in contact once or twice a year or less. Some of these friendships started in elementary school, but deepened in high school.


Once married and with a family, making friends gets complicated. First, we tend to be a little more self conscious and reserved as adults. Secondly, it's difficult to find time to spend with friends. We have work and responsibilities, and any free time is spent with our children. It makes us choosier friend pickers. We want to spend our precious friend time with people that make us laugh and feel good, and not with complainers and downers.

It's easier to get together as families, but that opens another whole can of worms. If I make friends with the woman of the family, then I also have to like spending time with her husband, my husband has to like spending time with her and her husband, our kids have to like spending time together, and we adults have to like the behavior of each other's children. That kind of family harmony is difficult to find.

Every New Year's, I make a resolution to spend more time with friends, yet it's an impossible to resolution to measure it's success or failure. Do I measure it in quantity of time, quantity of friends or quality. I resolve not to make that resolution any more, but just to appreciate the time I do spend with friends, those emails back and forth, and the Christmas greetings that may be our only contact but lets each other know that we are thinking of one another.

Hawks and Eagles and Owls, Oh My!

We went to VINS Nature Center in Quechee, Vermont today. VINS stands for Vermont Institute of Natural Sciences, and they are an education and rehabilitation center for raptors. Raptors are hawks, eagles, owl and falcons. They have thrice daily raptor shows, exhibit cages of raptors that cannot be rehabilitated to the point of release back into the wild, and a one-way window looking in a rehabilitation room. I can't say enough good things about this center. The employees and volunteers are knowledgeable and friendly, the grounds are clean and I feel enlightened and educated every time I go there.

Here is a Red-Tailed Hawk. He flew into a power line and injured his wing to the point that it couldn't be repaired for long soaring. He can still fly a little though.

This Bald Eagle couldn't take his eye off me...

unlike these Golden Eagles that wouldn't give me the time of day.

This Barred Owl has an injury from being hit by a car. He looks very proud and regal. We hear these around our house a lot, especially during the spring mating season.

Turkey Vultures are controversial raptors because some say they aren't raptors at all. They don't kill; they are carrion eaters, they have a good sense of smell; necessary to find that nice stinky carrion, and they have only one sharp talon on each foot; the others are soft toes. In case you ever wondered why they don't have feathers on their head, it's because they like to really stick their head in their food. They don't want to have a headful of feathers covered in entrails.

Finally, is this Harris's Hawk. I hadn't seen one before because they are a western raptor often used in falconry. He was photogenic and a good poser.

If you're ever in Central Vermont, check this place out.

Bevy of Blackberries

When we were out for our walk last weekend, I noticed that our field was loaded with ripe blackberries. I thought to myself, "Self, you've got to take advantage of this." Picking berries in the hot sun is not my idea of a good time, so I made a plan to go out right after breakfast. It was raining, but that wasn't going to stop Pipsqueak and me. Our rain boots and jackets provided additional armor against the thorny bushes. In one hour, we picked 10 cups of berries, and an unknown number that went direct from bush to mouth. Our welsh corgi developed a taste for them and was eating them right off the bushes until he couldn't take any more snout scratches.

Our field has rolling hills, and I noticed that berries on the top of the hills were bigger, but they were riper and more plentiful in the valleys. There's probably some interesting science that explains that, but since I was more interested in boys than botany in school, I couldn't tell you what it is.

Today it was time to make use of these luscious blackberries. We made blackberry sorbet, blackberry ice cream,

blackberry muffins

and apple-blackberry crisp.

I felt like I had been given free food. Since my pantry is always stocked for baking, all I had to buy was a small container of whole milk and heavy cream. I didn't have to plant the berries, weed them or fertilize them. They were a gift from mother nature.

Some pickling cukes were demanding my attention, so I made 2 quarts of dill pickles, too. After dirtying every measuring cup, spoon and mixing bowl in the house at least once, I decided that was enough cooking for today.

I was reminded of many of my grandmother's diary entries from when she was my age when she would make bread, donuts, baked beans and more in one day. I can't compare my efforts to hers though when she baked in a wood oven and didn't have an automatic dishwasher. I enjoy using a few of her kitchen implements that I "inherited" and think of her while I cook.