W.W.J.D.

For some reason, Yahoo thinks I'm desperately wanting to find Christian singles. The Christian fish sits on the sidebar above my inbox and saved mail folders like another navigation tool often enough that I don't really even notice it. Interestingly, Yahoo is able to determine that when the Christian dating service emails me, it is actually spam. So my inbox is not cluttered with Christian dating service emails, but were I to accidentally click above the link for my inbox, I could answer the burning question: Who Would Jesus Date.

As I started writing this post, I went to my email to check for the fish. Not there right now, it's a video ad instead. I guess Netflix has to have a turn at this lonely single gal, if Christ isn't getting called upon. Is it either/or? Looking for Christian love, or a hot flick? Why does Yahoo think I am single? If I were, I might actually go out instead of sitting home with Netflix.

Now I'll check my spam mailbox. Bingo, a Christian dating email. Dare I open it? I usually just delete everything from spam, especially since that time a few years ago when several people I knew at work (in the Elementary School!) had some very frightening and unpleasant, un-Christian photographs arrive in their email. Here goes -- oh, some images are blocked? Are these the naughty Christians? But Yahoo gives me an option to view the images. Now, the real dilemna -- what would Yahoo block that would also be arriving from a Christian Dating Service . . . I can't do it. I fear the certain fire and brimstone (and way more spam).

How convenient, now I can get Lasik surgery to more clearly see my Netflix movies and the Christian naughty spam pictures (the link above my inbox has cycled through to an eye surgery advertisement).

So, as far as my email host is concerned, I am single, repressed, lonely, old and have failing vision. I am also spending a little too much time interpreting the layout and contents of my email. Time to call a friend to come over and not hold hands while we watch "Fireproof" sitting a foot or two away from the screen.

How does your garden grow?

With hope and hard work and donations and equality and opportunity -- here's hoping for a bumper crop in November (and January, 2009!).

Trading Up

I have long been coveting a skill or job where doing “trades” was a possibility. I remember back to my mid-twenties when I lived with a massage therapist, and she and all of her massage therapist friends were trading massage for acupuncture, meals, wine, and lots of other things. I wanted in on that action. I do probably possess skills which someone would want in trade, but up until now I have not had the opportunity to barter them for services I want. I have taken on extra work for extra pay, and then used the money to buy massage, but somehow the whole cash-less exchange seemed like a better deal.

Now it looks like my yoga teacher and I are in a position to barter some speech therapy services for some babysitting and yoga sessions. I am so happy to be in a position to help her out, because she has been helping my life tremendously for years now, with her awesome teaching. I would not have been able to cope with work, parenthood and all the stresses in my life if I hadn't had her help and influence on my yoga practice. So the fact that I can do something to help her family, and continue to work with her help on my yoga, is even better than the trades I so coveted in the past.

Seafood stew and Rainbow potato gratin

I have been cooking several dishes on Saturdays and Sundays to have healthy lunches and quick re-heats for dinners during our busy week. This week's menu will include seafood stew, which I had for lunch today (onion, garlic, cumin, smoked paprika, seafood seasoning blend, carrots, celery, orange pepper, 4 kinds of heirloom tomatoes, crab and mussels, with some quark to top it off), and rainbow potato gratin (the heirloom spuds pictured yesterday, sliced thinly and layered with carmelized onions, milk, seasonings and quark and baked all afternoon).

Spud Update

We have been enjoying harvesting our potatoes on an as-needed basis, but after a week of rain and colder weather I decided to take advantage of a sunny afternoon today and dig up the remaining 25 pounds or so of spuds. I am hoping to store some for winter eating, but after having a mishap (left some out to cure, and now they are green after being left out in the rain) I am thinking we may simply continue to share the harvest with our friends and neighbors and eat them all this fall. Today was exciting because I uncovered some varieties we have not yet eaten. Tomorrow's dinner: rainbow potato gratin.
All in all, this was an incredibly satisfying gardening experience. Low on labor, high on yield, and kid-friendly for all the steps of the way. Especially the eating!

Family Portrait

Goodnight Sun

I have been trying in vain to find a picture of the sunset yesterday which I was lucky enough to see as I headed home after yoga. The sun was an amazing red, and in the exact right place on the horizon to appear much, much larger than usual. This was just like those rare full moons when the sky is clear and the moon is low and wide, but I can't ever recall seeing the sun look like this. It was hard to keep from staring at it, though I'm glad I managed as I would likely still being seeing the sun look like that, and the recollection would not be as pleasant.

By the time I was home, the sun had sunk below Phinney Ridge and was out of sight, too late to grab the camera. I'm afraid after today's chilly gray weather it may have been giving us a last gasp, not to be seen again until February, when we have our typical week or so of false summer. But this morning I was pretty happy to have a second cup of coffee, pull on the warm pj bottoms and slow down for at least a little while. I think I was mostly thrilled at sleeping until the luxurious hour of 6:00 a.m., and excited at the prospect that winter might bring a slightly more sane wake-up time for my four year old. Now if I can just get the cats on Tylenol P.M. or something, I will be in great shape.

Go See Willy!

I have a piece of advice for you, no matter what your taste in music, your feelings about going out to see live music, your geographic location: when Willy Porter plays a show within a 100 mile radius of you, GO SEE HIM. I can still remember the first time I saw him play, 20 years ago on the patio of the Union in Madison, Wisconsin. It was 1988, and I was a freshman in college, and I was absolutely blown away. Not only is his guitar-playing out of this world, but also his songwriting, singing, and stage presence are over the top good. Every time I have seen him play, he seems to put an incredible amount of effort into the performance. He sweats, he sways, he gets red in the face and tears out his heart and serves it up on his magical voice. Searching for his music on You Tube, I discovered a video of Willy performing at an elementary school. The man was rockin', having fun, and giving his all. This man is a true blood musician, and he always has a shy grin and a kind of gee, shucks "thanks guys" when the thunderous applause salutes his efforts. His songs are dense with emotion and well-crafted metaphor, and if you close your eyes it seems hard to believe you are hearing just one man with two hands and one guitar.

His shows are very entertaining, too. He has a fresh anecdote or joke between every song, and he usually does an improv bit where he writes a song based on random words and ideas called out by the audience.

Please, don't miss Willy. Get in your car, drive to where he is, and prepare to be blown away.

Remembering

My life has changed in many ways since the eventful and horrible day that we call 9-11. I remember feeling anxious for a friend whose baby was due in a few months, feeling like we were going through a doorway away from a world to which we could never return. That baby is now a first-grade boy, with a little sister. He has read all of the Harry Potter books that his parents would allow (the later ones will have to wait until he's older).

I remember feeling a desperate need to invoke some sort of emergency clause to allow Bill Clinton to step back in as president. That we were seriously f'd with a deer in the headlights, idiot president and commander in chief. I still feel the part about being f'd with the idiot leader but now he's a lame duck deer in the headlights. And I have tremendous hope for the future of this country with the upcoming election.

I remember riding my bike to work with my walkman radio tuned to NPR, barely able to breathe or see because each new piece of news left me sobbing, gasping, crying. I did not see the images on the news that morning, or for many days, because the audio alone was so incredibly painful, I could not bear to see what was being aired over, and over, and over. Now I can view the footage without coming apart. Barely.

I remember thinking that it was so unfair to my friend's soon to arrive baby, to all the babies and children yet to come, that we lived in a world where people could dream of such horror on such a scale, plan it, and execute it successfully. Now I have a four year old child who tells me over dinner that she is going to be a peace hero like Martin Luther King.

Many things have changed for me in seven years, but I believe my lifetime will pass with this day always being a day for reflection, for holding to hope while sorrow takes hold, and for striving to nurture the peace hero in myself and all those around me.

Best Buy What We Say

I have to admit, I have been coveting my friends' TiVos (TiVoes? TiVi?) for a while now. As someone who enjoys very selective tv viewing, I like the idea that you can filter out all the noise and stockpile things you'd like to watch for when you have time to watch them. Pausing live tv? Um, can anyone say miracle? Can I get a witness?

Yet, there were some reasons not to do it. First, before I had cable, there was no point. I could pretty much only get reception on two channels so there wasn't a lot to be stocking up on. Once we had (barebones) cable, I couldn't really see the monthly fee plus rental plus whatever other surcharges when my VCR pretty much had it covered. Additionally, I was a little frightened by an incident which occurred when speaking to my dad on the phone. There was a click and a dialing noise on the line, to which he nonchalantly replied, "oh, that's just TiVO checking something." Finding movies for me which I might like? Cool. Using my phone to communicate with central TiVo Big Brother? Maybe not.

Then, sometime last year, someone at work was talking about their DVR. As in, VCR, but digital (=pause live tv, etc.). The TiVo without the spyware. This sounded like the solution for me.

Last week, in a fit of excitement over fall tv season (yes, it's sad, but it is my consolation prize for heading back to work, rain, and darkness before dinner), I decided that I was ready. DVR, I welcome thee. I looked online to get a sense of my choices, and was somewhat confused by what was out there. As is often the case, the reviews and customer comments were much more helpful than the information provided by the manufacturers of the products. So I learned about some pitfalls to avoid, and some aspects of the technology of which I was unaware. Still, I decided that a trip to an electronics store to look at the actual models side by side and speak to a salesperson would be a smart move. So, I headed to a store specializing in such products which shall remain unnamed (insert cough "Best Buy" cough). I was not thrilled to be heading there, as I had a bad experience in a previous television related purchase (no actual items in stock and no clear idea as to a timeline for their availabilty). But, as I said, side by side, salesperson . . . I was going for research, mainly.

It turned out to be a very enlightening trip. Best Buy's (oops, I mean unnamed store) DVR section consisted of TiVo, TiVo, and TiVo. Oh, and something else for Direct TV and Satellite customers (might have been TiVo, not sure since I was in the archaic "cable" and "antenna" section). Side by side, not a lot to be learned besides Monopoly is more than just a game. So, I tried the salesperson. He showed me to . . . the TiVo wall of fame. I clarified, no, a DVR, stand-alone, no TiVo. He admitted that he had one of those, but his was eight years old, pre-TiVo domination. He claimed they aren't made anymore, aren't sold. I clarified that they were indeed still made and sold, just not here. Then he clarified they were not available without some digging, not to be found and just bought in a store. So I asked where people were digging for them. He leaned in and muttered "the internet," then glanced over his shoulder to see if a pink slip was on its way to him. Or the TiVo police.

Well, I was not buying it (pun accidental). One of the manufacturers' websites had listed Target as a retailer of their product, and while I had called my nearest Target and found that they did not have it in stock or have a place where it would eventually be stocked, I thought there might be some other options there. Happily for me, Target was just an escalator ride away. And, lo and behold: DVRs. For Sale. In a Store.

I am pleased with my new set-up, and anticipate some added benefits of recording my home video more quickly and easily to DVD format, among other features. But I suppose I had best not gloat on the web, because, we all know, Big Brother TiVo is watching.

Digging for gold

Until today we've been harvesting potatoes on an as-needed basis. We head out with our dirty garden shoes on, with or without our gloves, and find a plant that is close to done or all done. We've been digging up supper, or a gift for a friend, or some for a soup for later. We seem to have an unending supply, and we haven't been very thorough or careful thus far.

According to my planting and harvesting guide, the baby potatoes are best eaten the day they are dug. For potatoes that are to be stored and eaten months later, the best practice is to dig them, then allow them to cure in the field for 2 or 3 days. So this afternoon we started the process of harvesting some of the potatoes which we will store and eat this fall and winter. We moved from plant to plant, brushing off loose and not-so-loose dirt, and piling our booty in the dirt behind us.

We have probably dug up about a third of the potatoes so far. I think we have enough time to wait to harvest the rest, since we aren't in danger of frost too soon. The issue here is more likely to be heavy rain. I think we'll want to have most of them dug by the end of the month, and we may have to cure them in the garage so they won't get rained on. I ended up putting today's haul in a container because I was worried about animals. Mostly the neighborhood cats, who have been using patch as a litter box here and there. Would hate to come back to the pile and find some cat had marked it as theirs.

The potatoes have been a very fun and easy experiment. I highly recommend it for its high yield in delicious food, for very little investment of time and effort.

Update from the RNC

Dressing Down

This morning when I dropped off my daughter at her school, I got some compliments on my outfit. The teachers there could tell that it was back to work for real for me today (as opposed to off to the gym, or off to work but alone in my office). But one comment hit me the wrong way. A teacher that I really like told me I had the “perfect teacher outfit.”

I shouldn't be insulted. I shouldn't really even care what someone says about my clothes, because in general I don't really care very much about clothes. Which is probably apparent give the way I typically dress. But, today, I cared. I chose carefully, and felt satisfied with the result. Over the summer I went through my closet and weeded out items which I don't wear. Some didn't fit, some just didn't work, some were alarmingly old and had gotten lost in the mess. So, now my closet is actually a place I can find what I am looking for. Very satisfying.

I also decided to upgrade a little bit in terms of what kinds of clothes I might wear to work. Not really in price, but rather I thought I might not wear jeans every single day. So I went through my skirts and dresses and dress pants and found some things I can wear to look a little more like I made an effort.

Today's outfit was chosen because it is the first day of school, among other reasons. I wanted to look nice, and show a little effort. To me, “perfect teacher outfit” does not match what I had in mind. It calls to mind long jean skirts and sweaters that tell a story. Glasses on a chain and jewelry in the shape of zoo animals. Most of the teachers I work with are much better dressed than I am, and these images I am describing are things I don't actually see very often. But when you see them, they scream out “teacher outfit.”

At the end of the day, I am happy with what I chose. I felt comfortable but not too casual, and it worked for what I wanted. I just have to remind myself that ultimately I just don't care enough for clothing choices to matter. Even when I do step out and try to care a little bit.

Phone book, anyone?

http://www.yellowpagesgoesgreen.org/
We seem to get a different or new phone book dumped off at our home every two to three months. I find it unnecessary and annoying, and have gone as far as to run out the door looking for the person who delivered it to try to give it back. It is so wasteful to print all these paper books that I didn't ask for and do not want. Most of them just end up in the recycling bin, or in a pile in my basement.

I am pleased to say I am not alone in feeling this way, and there may be a solution. I just signed up today, so I have yet to see whether or not they will be successful, but there is a group trying to stem the tide of trees felled in the name of paper phone books. Sign up here: http://www.yellowpagesgoesgreen.org/

Rules for Attending the State Fair

Rule #1. Stick your head in every sign with a head-sized hole. Insist on being documented with a photograph.






















Rule #2. Ogle the baby animals.
Risk loss of fingers to touch cute bunnies.
Contemplate, but resist urge to take home cute baby bunnies.












Rule #3. Only consume items with
a 30% butter content or greater,
or which have been deep-fried.
Or both.






Rule #4. Experience farm animals on a new scale. As in, these are big!




Rule #5. Learn about where something comes from. See the transformation of animal into product (don't worry, you won't see it become meat.
They don't let you see that, 'cause you might change your mind about things.).

















Rule #6. Pay 5 dollars for 3 tries at a toy worth 2 cents. Lose.
Pay 10 dollars for 7 tries at a toy worth 2 dollars. Lose.
Pay 3 dollars to compete against others whacking at pop-up plastic moles to win a prize worth 1 dollar. Lose to smug man who has no children but apparently collects tacky fairground prizes for his swingin' bachelor pad.
Give your child 5 dollars for unlimited tries at a prize you would pay 5 dollars not to have to bring home. After 22 short tries, win!

Rule #7. Have a meaningful conversation on the way home to convey your love and appreciation for your family with whom you experienced these delights. See example, below:

A: When I am a grown-up, what will I do with my snuggly toys?

Me: Well, you might give them to your children.

A: No, I want to keep them for me. I don't want to share them.

Me: They are yours, honey. You can choose what you do with them.

A: I choose to keep them until I die. Then I will give them to someone.

Me: Mm.

A: Mom, who is going to die first, you or me?

Me: Well, it probably will be me, because I am a lot older than you. But neither of us is going to die for a long time. You will probably be a grandma and I will be a great-grandma before I die. In a long, long time from now.

A: Mom, I want to live in our house when I'm a grown-up.

Me: That would be nice. Do you want me to live with you, or do you want to live there by yourself?

A: I want you to live there with me. But I am still going to marry.

Me: So I would live there with you and your husband?

A: Yeah. Will you always live with me?

Me: I will live with you as long as you want me to.

A: I want you to live with me forever.

Me, in my head: I want to remember that you said that to me forever.