I have a piece of news for you.

Talking about (myself) blogging: Happy New Year!

2012-01-03T11:10:00.001-06:00

So, I confess that I'm pretty lame these days. I haven't blogged in a while even though I had bloggable things happen.

I made another gingerbread house this year. I stored it in the oven. No, I did not set it on fire this year. Sad. I threw it away yesterday. Sorry you didn't get to see it. It was on the news, though. That's on my DVR at home. If you missed it and want to stop by, let me know. I'll leave the back door unlocked.

Just kidding.

We had a kitty cat visit us. He's gone now. I have cute photos. Somewhere. That was tiring, but worthwhile. He lives in Oakland, California now.

So I had at least two bloggable things happen and still I ignored all of you who still wonder to yourselves if I'm blogging or just lazy (as I was recently asked) (thanks, Jeff).

I used to read a blog every day called Mommy Wants Vodka. I now read it a few times a year. (Hi, Aunt Becky!). She wrote a meme and then didn't like it, so she wrote another one. I reproduce the second one here, although she gets into the thing about purple being a flavor. (Purple is already a flavor) (Duh).

Also, the mood I'm in today (and over the weekend) would have me spilling my guts in ways that I'm sure none of you want to hear. Let's see...it's just one of the moods in which I feel like I've already said too much. Anything more would be nauseating.

So here's Aunt Becky's meme in which I try very, very hard to (use more parentheses in this post) and keep from being serious about anything.

1) What does Meme mean?

Clearly an extension of the Id and Ego. Meme is the word used to describe a tool used by a person for whom blogging alone is not nearly self-focused enough. Use it in a sentence: On my blog I use a meme to entertain myself by focusing more on myself than previously possible without said meme.

2) 2011 – Was it all you’d hoped it would be?

It sucked for a lot of people. A couple times I thought it was going to be awful, but it never turned out. As a matter of fact, and I'm sorry to bother you with this if you're one of the millions who hated 2011, but it turned out to be a pretty good year.

3) Did you watch the Royal Wedding?

I watched part of it. I thought that if I didn't, I would be sorry. I didn't want to be left out of any possible drama, like the mother of the groom standing up and walking out in the middle of the ceremony and later calling the bride a b*tch (true stories, same wedding, Kansas 1995). Unfortunately the only drama was that stupid hat whatshername wore.

4) Where are your pants?

Funny you should ask. I had this pair of dark blue slacks back in 1985. I was a skinny teenager, but naturally I thought I was a fat mutant and these pants made me look so thin I practically disappeared when I walked into a room. Then one day they disappeared. It's a mystery that haunts me to this day.

5) Is Justin Bieber human or some sort of robot?

Who's Justin Beiber? Is he that kid with the 1970s hairdo?

6) If you had only one thing to wish for this coming year, what would it be?

Just one thing? If I had just one wish for this year it would be to have at least nine other wishes.

7) Would you call yourself a “social media maven?”

Nope. I tried last year to do a work blog (I still want that) and Twitter. But now I find myself unable to make myself blog regularly, I have gleefully ignored Twitter for months and I'm trying to control Facebook time.

8 ) If you had to take three things to a desert island (let’s assume you have ample food and water), what would they be?

Things, not people, right? I want to be clear.

See? I take this stuff too seriously. I'm actually sitting here thinking it through, being logical and trying to analyze which items would be 1. most useful and 2. serve double duty. I would just take socks, soap and a ponytail holder. And a debit card. And rum.

9) If you had the ability to banish certain offenses to an island where they would be rehabilitated into being okay again, what would those offenses be?

Driving as though you're the only person on the road. Oh, don't think you aren't guilty, my friend. Away with you!

Also, meetings that last longer than 10 minutes and that's being generous. Why have meetings when they've invented email? You can make your point and not have to be in the same room with people whose opinion you don't want in the first place.

10) How do YOU think the air conditioner works?

Anyone who has lived by a glacier or run around a lake in the winter can tell you.

11) Do you ACTUALLY think you can make money blogging?

See, this is more about her own stuff. I never thought I could make money blogging. I can barely blog. If I were making money off this, it would be epic and everyone would love me.

12) There’s a lot of talk in the blog world about microblogging (The Tumblr, The Twitter, The Facebook) taking over traditional blogs. Do you think that’s the case?

Again, this is herself, but I left it because of what I said earlier about blogs and Twitter and Facebook. They suck the life right out of you. I'm trying to find more time for running, not sharing more of my inane, revealing babble across the universe so then later I can say, "Oh, crap. Did I put that the wrong way?" The problem with microblogging is that you say less with less, but you're still talking. OK, that's the mood I'm in lately - I'm tired of hearing myself talk. Also, commenting on blogs. I love getting comments, but I'm realizing that commenting on blogs makes me sound dumb because I might mean, "Hey, you're so right about the sky being blue. It's perfectly lovely. Tell me more about how much you love the blue sky." But pithy is difficult. I end up saying something like, "Blue sky. Yay! And then I ate a pickle." Microblogging requires pithy and I ain't got it. Evidence: See how long this one answer is RE: pithy. Also? Pithy wasn't even an answer to the original question.

13) If you could give one piece of advice to your younger self, what would it be?

Well, besides the obvious, it would be to take a deep breath, stop anticipating problems and care A LOT LESS about other people.

14) If you could’ve told yourself this time last year one thing, what would it be?

What you thought you could do last year was only going to make you exhausted and nobody cares, so why bother.

15) If you could have one Super Power, what would it be?

I would be a time lord. Obviously.

16) If you could do one thing you can’t currently do, and do it well, what would it be?

Play the piano and sing along. I can do neither. If I could, I would be far more entertaining (let's face it, also more annoying) than I am now.

17) What surprises you about yourself?

I'm surprised at my self-discipline. I used to think I had none, but really I have it by the bucket loads. So the reality of this is when I'm stalking you or stuffing candy into my mouth, the issue isn't self-discipline. The issue is that at that moment, I must want to do what I'm doing. Ah, liberation!

18) What was your favorite blog post/tweet of the past year?

It was the time I blogged about becoming a runner although I now wonder if I really wrote it in the best way I could have. In retrospect (like my comments), I think it fell short and sounds all wrong. So then it was on Veteran's Day when I blogged about the kid at the school program who talked about his dad. That kid needs an awesome 2012.

19) Do you REALLY think “purple should be a flavor?”

As stated previously, purple already is a flavor. So is red, by the way.

20) If you could make one outlandish wish for 2012, what would it be?

I would wish to have someone at my house every morning to fetch me coffee, choose my clothes, do my hair and apply some makeup to my visage before warming my car, helping me into my coat and running the sweeper. If you want this job and can handle my hair, please apply within.

P.S. If I could figure out why Blogger sometimes can't do line breaks properly I think I would be rich and famous and have a statue in a park somewhere.

Candy is dandy, but liquor is quicker

2011-12-06T10:23:00.001-06:00

Candy istricky to make.

That’s thefirst thing I have to say because I’m sure this recipe was tested and I’m sureI’m the one who did something wrong. I have an idea that maybe it boiled toolong.

Wait while Iput some of my ideas about candy making mistakes into the google machine. Standby.

I’m backalready to say that so far, I’m a genius. I used the correct pan. I used awooden spoon. It’s not like I’ve never seen candy made. I must have absorbedsomething somewhere. Maybe my idea about the mistake is right. Stand by.

Behold! It’san hour later, but I think I found the problem(s):

1 1. If you're using molds, prepare the molds withlollipop sticks, spray with oil, and place them on a cookie sheet or marbleslab.

2 2. Adding it (the flavoring) sooner causes most ofthe flavor to cook away.

I didn’tactually search for an hour. I got sidetracked by bright, shiny objects. Big surprise.

The recipe Iused said nothing about greasing the molds. There was also a suggestion thatyou turn a cookie sheet upside down and put the molds on that. Or a marbleslab, but I don’t have one. While I don’t think I added the flavoring too soon,maybe I did. If I did, it was seconds too soon.

Theselollipops were made with Captain Morgan rum. They’re supposed to you know,taste like rum. They don’t. They mellowed into a very light, warm flavor with aslight taste of butterscotch.

In short, ittastes the way you think liquor should taste when you’re a kid, but then youdrink your first gin martini or your first straight shot of whiskey and yourealize it could strip varnish off an old table.

So here’s theproblem: the recipe casually mentions peeling the mold away from the lollipopor the lollipop away from the mold or something that sounds easy but in realitywasn’t easy at all.

The lollipops did what hard candy does. It was hard. Theydidn’t peel. They didn’t budge. Finally, I tried to push on them from thebottom and they did what hard candy does. They cracked.

Realizing Iwas not going to have yummy lollipops because I’d already sampled some of themixture, I decided to try popping them out of the molds. They popped all right.They popped into pieces. I stored them overnight and yearned for the flavors toget to know one another. Perhaps even marry into a delicious, rum-soakedpassionate affair.

They did nosuch thing.

In mypost candy-making despair, I’ve eaten three of them. I wrote the place from whence I gatheredthe recipe. They apologized, but had no tips to offer. So I decided not to tryagain.

Also? In my frustration during the actual candy-making debacle, I threw away the mold.

Makes methink the expression “After they made you, they broke the mold” could be usedin a good way, could be used in a bad way.

Holiday snacking and shopping

2011-12-05T15:15:00.001-06:00

For the past four weeks at least, I've been doing my best toleave holiday treats on the shelves at the store.

Usually I shop the perimeter of the grocery store, so itisn't difficult for me to skip most all the aisles except the canned vegetableaisle. I purposely go down the liquor aisle just to keep from shopping theothers.

I go up through produce, skirt the bakery, round through thedeli department and then down the vegetable aisle. If my store ever movesthings around from that aisle, I'm in big trouble. It has Mexican products,vegetables and beans. If I need coffee, that peeks out from a shorter aisle, soI don't have to go down the aisle to fetch it. I get back to the meatdepartment and head east to dairy. When I need to go back, I pass the paper/catfood aisles to hit the liquor aisle. I just walk down the liquor aisle.

OK, I might stop and smell a few roses in the liquor aisle.But it’s all too expensive and I hear it’s not the thing to drink alone. Beingthe only drinker for miles around, I can easily talk myself out of any impulsepurchases in the liquor aisle.

This route gets me right back to the end of the line of cashregisters, where I get in line and wait my turn. Naturally, it's not a perfectsystem and I can get sidetracked now and then, but mostly this is what I do andI keep myself from seeing and buying food I really don't want in the house.

You know what kills me every time? A trip down to TraderJoe's.

Oh, TJ! How you tempt me this time of year especially withyour peppermint Joe-Joe's and your peppermint covered pretzels! I adore yourspecial little yummy nuggets of fat and sugar so carefully arranged to bringout the delightful, tongue-pleasing flavors of even the most heinous chemicals,colorings and trademark secrets. I've managed to learn to live without your3-layer hummus, too (thanks for the times when you don't have any in stock. Ilove you for that).

What's wrong with hummus? I hear you asking. Nothing exceptwhen your self-control flees and you eat the entire container in less than 24hours. It's called Patient Needs Intervention.

I've yet to see a loaf of bread perform a back flip into mygrocery cart or a box of brown sugar Pop-Tarts swan dive into my purse as Iwalk by, but these aisles are really off-limits as much as they can be. Ittakes habit and will power and self-talk. I talk to myself an awful lot inlife, I've always admitted it. But the reason my lips are always moving at thegrocery store is to remind myself constantly that I don't need anything down thisor that aisle!

While the treats at the supermarket are not leaping into mygrocery cart unassisted, the advertisements are doing graceful jetés into myemail inbox at an alarming rate.

I delete them mercilessly. I disregard the advertisements inthe Sunday newspapers by piling them unseen into the recycle pile.

I drive boldly past the stores with their evil blinky-blinkysigns. I'm not a shopper most of the time anyway. I don't enjoy going throughthe stores, picking through the bins, sniffing out the deals. I do, however, dothe math to find out price-per-ounce. I'm the one in the store who is standingin the aisle going back and forth between two items to find out if one is abetter deal than two or if 60 fewer sheets of toilet paper are worth the extra$1.36 per package.

I like to keep my coat on so as not to feel at home behindmy cart. If I am shopping with someone, I gladly allow them to push the cart.If they don’t want to, I whine until they agree to push the cart. I hatepushing the cart.

Also, pushing the cart in my warm winter coat means I'm alsopossibly the grumpy lady who almost ran over you in aisle 3 while you perusedthe throw pillow selection. An even better habit is not using a cart at all soI can’t buy more than what fits in my hands or arms.

I figure if I can keep shopping around my grocery store’sedges and I can stop myself from window shopping, lolly-gagging or looking atany advertisements, emails or coupons for another five or six weeks, I shouldn’tgain too much weight around my middle or lose too much weight around mypocketbook.

Do you have any tips for this time of year?

What's wrong with this picture?

2011-11-27T16:35:00.001-06:00

I had been looking forward to this thing that was being advertised called Small Business Saturday. Yourself?

On Friday, I bought tickets at the local Playhouse and then on Saturday I spent money in six different local businesses. I would have done it anyway, but this advertising campaign got me thinking of getting the job done and doing it all on (mostly) one day.

Small Business Saturday has a Facebook page and so I went to look at the comments of thousands of people who participated in this campaign.

Some businesses decried it saying they didn't have any extra business or that business was really slow. One of those businesses was a repair shop, which I'm not thinking would necessarily have extra business on a Saturday in November unless everyone's lawn mower/snow blower/automobile happened to break down on Small Business Saturday.

Remember in Andy Griffith, Bewitched and shows of that age when there were repair shops for radios and televisions? How quaint that seems now. I have a little wind up alarm clock from high school that I just love and for two decades now I can't find one person willing to fix it. They all say it will cost more to fix than repair.

They're not getting my point about loving the alarm clock. But obviously I've gotten off track.

Apparently SBS, as Imma call it now because Small Business Saturday is too long to keep typing, was designated by the U.S. Senate for November 26. That's just this year, so I don't know what the Senate is doing getting involved, but last year AMEX offered a $25 credit to a limited number of participants who spent at least $25 at a qualified small business. That's nice of them. That's putting their money where their mouth is.

There are, as in most nice stories, a few villains. Who you think the villains are may depend on your political or social leanings.

The media references I've seen have said that AMEX was offered the $25 credit to their cardholders. According to the ungrateful grousing on Facebook, it was to a limited number of registered participants. I think that's fair. AMEX isn't a charity. They want something for their money. They already know who you are, but now they've gotten some extra information about you or whatever they wanted. But they wanted you to register. They're not stupid, either. If they limited the number of participants, that was wise on their part. Shut up and follow the rules is what I'm saying. But then you've probably figured out my political leanings, so this attitude shouldn't surprise you.

Then there are the folks who got the wrong end of the stick, in my humble but accurate opinion. There were people on Facebook who said they went to ONE STORE and spent $25.50 just to claim their $25 credit from AMEX. I'm just disappointed in the Americans who did it only for their own gain.

Now if you really couldn't afford to spend more than $25.50, I think it's nice that you went out and spent the limit and you got something for free. I totally get that and good on you for shopping local to do it. But naturally not the majority in this case and forgive my old-school perspective, but if you have an AMEX card, why can't you shop at more than one store or drop more than 25 bucks during the biggest shopping season of the year?

There were a few folks who complained because the lousy small business they decided to shop at didn't take AMEX. Um...this may be another reason why AMEX is getting behind this project.

Anyone remember when you couldn't use a DISCOVER card anywhere but Sears? Anyone?

Do your homework. Call first. Or how about you go to another store? Sheeple! I declare some people need others to do their thinking.

Then there was the rant from someone who thought the whole thing was about corporate greed.

At any rate, we've all survived the big kickoff to consumerism. Did you shop? Do you have any Black Friday or SBS stories? Is your shopping done?

The four corners of the world on Veteran's Day 2011

2011-11-11T09:57:00.001-06:00

Anyone who thinks Iowa isn't culturally diverse should have been at Aaron's middle school assembly this morning with me. I wonder how many different countries unite in the student population there. I saw Burundi, Burma, Liberia, Sudan, Bosnia...I'm sure I couldn't guess as to the others.

The school had a really nice Veteran's Day assembly that began with the presentation of the colors by a group of Boy Scouts. Veterans were asked to stand and be recognized. The National Anthem was sung and they did a bang-up job doing it. The 7th and 8th grade chorus sang the songs of each branch of service: Army, Marine Corps, Navy, Coast Guard and Air Force in that order.

There were several student recitations, which mostly I looked on as an excellent opportunity for public speaking, which is a chore so many hate. But for those of us who learn to do it, and even love it, it creates confidence and can open doors of opportunity later in life. (I'm convinced of this, although no one has ever beaten down my door begging me to go on a speaking circuit, so maybe I'm wrong) As I'm listening to the recitations about the flag, the bald eagle and the Statue of Liberty, I'm admiring these kids.

Particularly keeping in mind they're standing in front of middle school peers. What a nightmare.

When it came time for the last recitation, this Army brat perked up. A young man named Dalton had written about his father, who is currently deployed...again...in the Middle East.

I've often thought there should be a little something for the military dependents of the world. If your parent was career military, you know a thing or two about military life and sacrifice. For instance, when they ask veterans to stand while their service's song is played, I think maybe we should be allowed to stand up as well.

No, the children didn't put their lives on the line, but they let mom or dad (mostly dads when you're my age) go away and these days even young children seem to know the parent may not return. I also think widows (or widowers) should be recognized.

No man is an island and all that, you know? It takes a family to send a soldier to war.

Dalton, a military kid in a completely civilian world, stood on the stage this morning and spoke proudly of his father's many deployments, his achievements and goals and his safety. He said, "My dad is in a secure location, so I don't worry so much about his safety." It's also the first time his dad has been away from home for Christmas.

At first, I thought, "Oh, please let his dad be here to surprise him." But then he said this time his dad has only been gone for a month so far.

I have so much respect for the children of the military these days. My dad was career Army, but we were civilians for a period of my childhood. My dad was never deployed into combat. So many kids today are surrounded by civilians while I was fortunate to be surrounded by military kids and families. I knew in the back of my mind that something could happen to my father or the other dads I knew. The Cold War was always a little threatening, but I didn't have to face an actual war.

Find some veterans today and thank them for their service, then remember to thank their family. After that, go find someone who let their mom or dad fight for their country and give the kid a big thank you!

Christmas Happy Campaign

2011-11-04T20:51:00.002-05:00

Family economics being what they are today in the world, I want to campaign on behalf of a charming, slightly old-fashioned thing that you can do to bring smiles and happiness to the faces and hearts of friends and family far and wide.

Send Christmas cards!

If you aren't into Christmas, send New Years' greetings.

Even now when the mail is full of bills and advertisements, who doesn't still hope to see a letter or a card in the mail? The way the world works, it's pretty rare for most of us to see anything personal and maybe you've given up looking.

But you know you used to. And I bet you loved the cards and letters. Email isn't the same thing. Sure, it's "free" but you can't hold it, open it, slide the card out, smile and laugh, display the card and read the note over and over again. No, all you can do is click, click, click.

You will smile and then you'll move on and it will be forgotten.

Be remembered this year for something special.

I know on the whole sending Christmas cards looks expensive, but considering the cost per smile, it's really a delightful tradition that costs less than a pack of gum.

The cards don't have to be expensive. Good luck finding cards at a mass retailer that actually say Merry Christmas (don't shop at Target! I had a big fit last year trying to find fun cards that didn't say happy holidays. I finally settled on a card that said Merry christmas (sic) and I threw them away. I was so mad.), but if you get the most inexpensive cards you can find or make, you can send a moment of shiny, glittering happiness to a friend or loved one for less than a dollar.

If you already send Christmas cards, send a few more.

When you consider what the U.S. Postal Service can do for less than 50 cents, I say it's a bargain we've all forgotten about. So put on some Christmas music, pull out the stamps and pen, brew a cup of tea or chocolate and treat yourself to spreading holiday cheer.

That's my campaign for the year: Spreading happiness one envelope at a time.

Do you like getting personal mail in the mailbox? Do you display Christmas cards during the season? What do you think?

Beggars' Night is Jokers' Night in Des Moines, Iowa

2011-10-31T10:41:00.000-05:00

What a great evening for Beggars' Night last night! The weather was perfect and the jokes were rotten!

This is why I love Halloween in Des Moines.

Look at the contact between the homeowner and the kids on the porch. Ernest is telling his joke as my niece watches on. I remember a few years ago, I had to coach her to tell her joke. This year, she wouldn't take candy until she told her joke. She'd say, "I have a joke!" and then let it rip. She even changed it up a couple times. Both kids had several jokes they rotated.

-----------------

When I was a kid, I felt sort of dumb ringing the doorbell and just standing there waiting for candy to drop into my bag. I'm not saying I didn't like Halloween, but after the year I had to wear a coat over my nurse's uniform, I think it went downhill. The only two costumes I remember are that nurse's uniform and a witch costume my mother made. They were both wonderful costumes. I don't seem to recall any others. Maybe my mom can help.

But this post isn't about that.

I'll just kick this into gear and let the Des Moines Register tell you the story since I'm feeling a little lazy this morning:

"A mushroom walks into a bar. "You'll have to leave," the bartender says. "We don't allow mushrooms in here." "Why not?" asked the mushroom. "I'm a fungi."

The credit for providing Des Moines children with the perfect outlet for their most groan-inducing jokes largely goes to one woman, Kathryn Krieg, director of recreation for the Des Moines Playground Commission (later the Parks and Recreation Department) for 43 years.

When Krieg assumed her post in 1931, kids on Beggars' Night were more likely to clamor "Soaps or Eats" than "Trick or Treat." Every year the newspaper ran a long list on Nov. 1 of youths arrested the previous evening for crimes ranging from soaping windows and sidelining streetcars to setting fires and throwing bricks through windows.

The flash point came on Halloween in 1938 when Des Moines police answered a record 550 calls concerning vandalism. Krieg, along with the Community Chest' group work council, began a campaign to encourage less violent forms of Halloween fun.

They set aside Oct. 30 as Beggars' Night and got the word out to the public that on that night - and only that night - children would be allowed to go from door to door and say the phrase "tricks for eats." The council urged that "eats should be given only if such a 'trick' as a song, a poem, a stunt or a musical number, either solo or in group participation, is presented."

The next year, the group work council again promoted the Beggars' Night concept, this time as a way to aid the war effort. An article published in The Des Moines Register on Oct. 29, 1942, carried the headline "Kids! -Don't Help the Axis on Halloween" and included this poem encouraging proper behavior:

"Soap and ticktacks are taboo,
Ringing doorbells? Not for you.
Thoughts of pranks, you must detour,
Lest you bet a saboteur."

The Beggars' Night program was so successful that by the mid-1940's, the number of Halloween police calls in Des Moines had been cut by more than half.

After the war, Krieg continued to issue annual bulletins in the Register laying still more Beggars' Night ground rules, including that children should stay in their own neighborhoods and that parents should turn on their porch lights for trick-or-treaters and accompany small children on their rounds.

Each year, she reiterated that children should not be given candy until they earned it "with a stunt, song, or riddle."

Now on Beggars' Night, a group of preteen girls will occasionally sing a song or a shy kindergartner opt for a cartwheel. For the most part, however, every trick-or-treater old enough to memorize one tells a joke.

Why did Dracula visit the blood bank?
He needed to make a withdrawal.

Krieg retired in 1974, a few years after the Register stopped running her yearly admonition to make children work for their candy. By then, the biggest Beggars' Night concern wasn't the danger trick-or-treaters might represent to the public but the danger some members of the public might represent to trick-or-treaters. Krieg died in March of 1999 at age 94."

Does your community have Beggars' Night or is the candy night always Halloween? Do you have fond memories?

Two quotes and a girl

2011-10-27T20:30:00.000-05:00

I heard two quotes today and I fell in love with both right away. Other than my search for a marathon motto, I'm not one to go in deep for quotes. I might like them, but I typically forget them or I forget who is being quoted. That's strange considering how much I like to remember grammar rules.

But I'm gonna put that down along with a man's ability to forget a child's birthday yet remember what a '57 Studebaker looks like compared to a '56. Or how a man can remember which team won the World Series 10 years before he was born, but forget his wife's favorite color.

The first quote I heard today was something a columnist from the New York Times said, "I'm so productive, I don't get anything done." He was talking about social media and how, at 55 years old, it can be difficult to get his head to manage all the different things plugged into his brain. I totally get that feeling. I do a lot of stuff, I have four blogs and two Twitter accounts. I also have a Facebook account for me, one for my Irish study group and I'm the administrator for my church's Facebook page.

I manage my workouts on Dailymile (friend me!) I have several email accounts and I pay my bills and manage my checkbook online. It's easy for someone like me to become distracted by all of that. Forget about the blogs I read, the news sources, the Irish online classes and television I want to watch, the television shows I intend to watch, but never get to...

I can't believe how young they are in this photo

I won't even begin to mention the people, pets and housecleaning, cooking and reading/running/relaxing and the visiting with friends/lunch/keeping up with people I care about including making new friends through the running club, holidays, expectations... Everyone is busy, but when I heard this quote, I thought about all the people who tell me I either do "too much" or I'm "so busy" and I know they're right. I enjoy being busy, but I get stubborn and refuse to slow down.

I need to rest more so I can get more done.

The second quote was on a running magazine's Facebook status. It said, "I do today what others won't so I can do tomorrow what others can't. ~unknown" A part of me thinks some people may think this rude or smug. I don't want it to be that way. But at my age, I know plenty of people who can't and I know sometimes we get a crappy deal in life through genetics or stinking luck of the draw. I know I may get the Joker card some day and in the meantime I want to do things I enjoy and that includes moving and being outside or swimming and meditating or enjoying my own company in the pool.

I talk to myself a lot, so naturally I'm not lonely at all!

Do you have quotes you love? Is there anything you use to inspire you? What do you do that's just for yourself?

Why did the chicken cross the road?

2011-10-26T20:52:00.001-05:00

I'm at this point at which I still feel a strong pull to run every single day. I've spent the last four months with the nagging voice in my head telling me that I should be outside on my feet. It doesn't go away overnight. The feeling was strong this evening, but I stuck to my plan to come home and begin a little November project.

There's a television show I've been watching on JLTV called Feed Me Bubbe and I've decided to make some of her recipes. I read a really good blog that today asked if readers wanted to teach themselves something in the month of November.

So I got started early. Anyone here surprised by that?

I made Bubbe's Kasha Varnishkes because that's something I wanted to make right when I saw her make it. I can watch food shows on television and not be bothered one bit with the idea that I should make the recipe I see. But this was interesting because it called for Kasha, which is buckwheat groats. A new grain to try out - that was intriguing.

Not sure where to buy this little delicacy, I asked a friend of mine at work where I could buy Kasha. He said it was hard to find here, so they buy it down in Kansas City. He said next time they go, he would bring me a box. But do you know what happened the next day? He brought me a box.

That was more than two months ago, so with the new challenge and a short trip to the store for bowtie pasta, I whipped up Kasha Varnishkes and a roasted chicken.

The chicken is a whole 'nother story. If you know me, you know I have a thing against chicken. Corporate chicken is what I call it. Tortured animals with nasty carcasses...I'll stop. I don't go into it all because that's sort of rude and because if you really want to know, you can look it up yourself. So chicken is not a dish I will eat unless I know where the chicken came from or if I am a guest at someone's home, right? Another guy at work offered chickens for sale this year from his brother's farm. I decided to follow a second recipe from Bubbe called, if you can believe it, roast chicken.

I saw this show, too. She used a sharp knife to take off some pinfeathers. OK, gross. I do like for my food to come from a farm nearby if I can help it, but I am a typical 21st century North American girl and I do NOT want to get to know my food on such a personal level. I still want it to look like the grocery store invented it.

I was about to pour boiling water over the chicken (don't ask me, I was just following the recipe) when I sort of screamed and jumped away from the sink. The neck was still attached. I'll be darned if I didn't think some pretty awful thoughts of my co-worker and his brother just then. I got my kitchen shears and sort of hacked away at the darn thing all the while making girlie EWWW noises. Disgusting! Making it worse was the stuff hanging out of the neck - I swear to you the bird's head was ripped off rather than chopped.

Edited to add: I was using the dull kitchen shears to disconnect the neck from the blasted animal. I have a pair of sharp ones that are set aside for emergencies such as this, but did I use them? No. Instead I just sawed and hacked my way through. Stubborn much?

I could just spit. Stupid freaking chicken. I hate chicken. I'd like to say I'm over it. Sort of. Now I think I will just cross off everything on my bucket list. I've seen it all.

She's super tiny, isn't she?

The chicken recipe called for allspice under the skin, which smelled good while it was cooking, but I didn't get any taste from it. This stupid chicken was the smallest thing I've ever seen. EVER. I think with the legs out like that, it looks like it's trying to escape from the slaughter.

Below is the dish with the groats and bowtie pasta. I have never made it before or eaten it before. Also, her recipe was a little more confusing than I thought it was going to be. I saw her make it and I had it printed out in front of me, but I think I was trying to make it take less time, so I didn't follow step by step. It's the sort of dish that calls for the cook doing 2-3 things at once. But the recipe was written to have you do one thing at a time, which would have taken longer. Also, I didn't saute the onion and I used canned mushrooms instead of fresh because I wasn't sure I wanted to spend the money on fresh for something I've never done before.

This recipe needs a covered, oven-safe pan

This dish was really dry. It was so dry that I added some of the drippings from the chicken (more than I care to admit, but can you say "tasty" for me?). I have no idea if this dish is meant to be dry, but other than the oil for the onion & mushroom saute, I didn't change anything. In the end, it needed more chicken drippings than the amount of oil called for. I would make this again because I think it's yummy, but I wouldn't serve it to guests.

Next up I will make her kugel. I bought the noodles tonight, but I have until the end of November...

Lastly, for those of you who remember that my cell phone takes truly bad photos, this is my cell phone at work. My camera is under the weather (when I can find it), so I just used my phone. This is the result. Looks tasty, eh? I guess I won't win any foodie awards!

2011-10-19T17:44:00.003-05:00

Here's the IMT DES MOINES MARATHON recap! http://ow.ly/72O0R

Or just read it below:

Last weekend, I ran the IMT Des Moines Marathon and I wanted to wait before I did a recap of the event. In the meantime, I read someone else’s recap of the event that evening and it occurred to me that he wrote it much as I once would have: stride, pace, pain, mileage, etc.

But this race!!!

This race was meant to be different. There was a lot of hand-wringing on my part as you all know [sheepish]. My goals were different than I had set for any other race.

I didn’t feel well the week before the race, but I suspect that sort of helped to make me happy with my

decision to have fun and not run the half marathon for my finish time. I’m not feeling inspired right now to be entertaining or witty (as clearly I usually am), so I’ll just run down some bullet points:

It was the best race I've ever run!
I had fun. My overall pace was 11:56, but I don’t know how fast I ran because my running partner, Tami, and I ran four minutes and walked one minute. Also, I was wearing someone else's Garmin and it was set to different measurements than I use on mine. This was probably a blessing in disguise because I couldn't continually check my pace.
Got there early without a rush.
Ran back to my car to get my cell phone. Warm-up!
Met up with friends from my running club.
Saw the Grim Reaper at the start, hugged him later near the finish line.
Mugged for the photographers a couple times rather than having all my photos look as though I'm trying to wreck myself.
Forgot my gloves at the start line, so I picked up a dark blue pair from the street right in front of the State Capitol and wore them almost the whole time. [I have no shame] They’re Roosevelt Rough Riders blue, so I’ll wear them to the football game this Friday!
My Garmin watch wouldn't latch onto a satellite, so I wore my friend Cindy’s watch. She’s just the most amazing person to have around on race day. We hoped to match strides with the winners of the full marathon as they lapped us, but we’re pretty sure they took three or four steps to half of one of ours. It was a sort of blur.
Eight records were set on the day including a 5K in 15:05, which is a 3.1 miles in 15 minutes and 5 seconds. Amazing! That's 4 minutes and 51 seconds per mile. Can you imagine?
Crossed the finish line after seeing Cindy and my friend Ann, who rode around the course route on her bicycle. I got hugs and a banana. Both very helpful for energy.
Enjoyed a band called The Snacks at the finish line. Wow! They were slightly insane and completely enjoyable.
ATE FOOD! I managed to eat BBQ and other snacks including beer. It never bothered my stomach because I didn't run myself to death in this race.
Laughed. I laughed quite a bit. Remarkable: I'd like to replicate that for every race.
Stayed almost until the last participant crossed the finish line. I’d like to say I stayed for the entire thing, but I conked out. It was after 3pm and although the course was supposed to close after seven hours, they stood around and waited - and THAT is why the IMT Des Moines Marathon is such an amazing event in my humble but accurate opinion.
After the race, I didn't cry, I didn’t feel like crying and I had fun. Also, sore? I was not.
I don't have photos yet, but I will post a couple when I get them.

This year’s race was easily the best race I've had even though my finish time was the least impressive of any run I've ever participated in. I may have to rethink the ‘run faster’ approach. While I didn't give it my all, I'm happy. I think giving it my all may be limited to 5k races in the future. I'll keep you posted. [smirk]

Now to begin winter running. Fun? no. Challenging? yes.

Another marathon motto 2011

2011-10-14T11:47:00.001-05:00

Every year I've come up with a motto for my marathon events. But last month, when I did the Air Force Marathon, I didn't have a motto.

Bad move!

Apparently, I'm motivated by mysterious forces that include superstitions, logistical planning that would impress the U.S. Army and a strong, motivating motto.

OK, I'm not all that superstitious. I think. Don't put shoes on the bed. That's probably the one thing that sends shivers up my spine. I believe shoes on the bed brings death in the family. So just don't. My grandmother wouldn't approve.

Of course, she may have used that one because shoes are dirty and she was a very good housekeeper.

So I talked about my experience with the Air Force Marathon and how although my time wasn't bad at all, I sort of felt a bit like a failure, which is putting it too strongly. Let's say I was disappointed. I didn't know why I felt so disappointed.

Now I'm pinning it all on the lack of a motto. The motto is what I compare the run against. For the marathon last month, I didn't even have a time goal! I just figured I'd do as well or better than last year's 2:12:44 half in Des Moines. But that didn't happen and without a back up, what was I to do?

I stood at the finish line crying and feeling disoriented and I certainly know for absolutely certain certainteed for sure that I don't want that happening again, so I have decided that my motto for this weekend is:

Enjoy it all.

This means slow down the pace, look at the volunteers (more on this below), drink water slowly, chat with running partner, laugh, listen to the music, read the signs, look at the autumn colors and drink in how really lovely the city of Des Moines is.

My hope for this event is to feel REALLY DARN GOOD at the finish line. Not just not crying, but wanting to stay and see other runners come in, encourage my friends who are in the event and running the full 26.2 miles and even staying and feeling good when my niece comes downtown to run the kid's race that afternoon. If I do cry, maybe it's just because running 13.1 miles isn't that easy. If that's the case, I guess I can handle that.

I'll let you know because I know you're all just dying to hear about the train wreck at the end. HA!

------

Last month after the Air Force marathon, I volunteered at a 10-mile race here in town. I was a course marshal, which sounds fancy, but it just means I had an orange safety vest and a flag to keep runners from going up the wrong street. As to that, what in the world was I thinking in elementary school when I wanted to be a crosswalk monitor?

So there I stood in the crosswalk looking at runners who were just in mile 2, so they were still happy and fresh. And they didn't look at me! I always wondered why someone would just stand there and not cheer the runners on or say something as we pass, but now I know. It's hard to stand there feeling a little dorky saying things to people you don't know. I like to say thanks to the volunteers anyway, but now I want to pay more attention to the folks who are out there.

OK, I'm out of here for now. I've stated the motto to the universe. I'll go to the expo tomorrow and have a blast.

2011-10-12T08:51:00.001-05:00

Here's my latest post on the marathon, which is this weekend:

http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/2011/10/race-day-is-almost-here.html

My plan for a better half marathon

2011-09-26T20:38:00.002-05:00

Here's the link to the other blog. I'll be back when my running project has ended next month! http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/2011/09/how-im-planning-out-plan-to-plan-less.html

Air Force Marathon

2011-09-20T21:02:00.002-05:00

Here's what happened last Saturday: http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/2011/09/air-force-half-marathon.html

The day I became a runner

2011-09-02T13:30:00.002-05:00

Here's my latest blog post for my summer training. Something really big happened last Saturday. Read about it here.

Or, if that doesn't work, copy and paste this URL into your browser.

http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/2011/09/day-i-became-runner.html

Where do the good ideas go?

2011-07-27T12:25:00.003-05:00

I had a brainstorm for a post during this morning's run. Problem is, much like doing math while running, remembering good ideas after running is hard to do.

In the meantime, I've blogged about running again and you can read the excitement here: http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/2011/07/is-training-for-full-marathon.html

Milestones!

2011-07-10T20:51:00.002-05:00

I haven't blogged in awhile even though I've been running, so let's talk about milestones! because I've hit a few while you weren't looking.

The first milestone is that I passed 100 miles, did you notice? I have missed a few runs with all the traveling and running around I've been doing, but I think only about 10 in total.

The second milestone is that I have started to speed up. Also awesome in its awesomeness.

The third milestone is that this year I have begun eating properly for someone who's in training. It never happened last year and I dragged an extra nine pounds around because of it. That's like running with 36 sticks of butter as Weight Watchers would tell me. Except that butter would melt. I don't recommend running with butter.

Oh, I hope I did the math right. Math is hard.

The fourth milestone is AWESOME because I've passed the halfway mark in my fundraising for the AIDS orphans in Tunisia. With the money raised, we'll send the kids to school so they can get an education and rise above their circumstances! Thank you to everyone who has contributed and remember that a $5 donation is received with the gratitude of a $50 donation! If you'd like to simply give me a little cash, I will make the donation for you electronically. If you care to give me a check, I'll do the same thing.

Whatever works best for you, works for me. You guys are fabulous!

I would like to be inspiring or funny or painfully honest about what it's like to run 8 or 9 miles, but there's one more milestone we need to discuss:

The fifth milestone is fatigue.

Fatigue has decided to be my BFF and I know from experience that getting rid of her is hard to do. She's one of those people I can't get away from. I tell her to buzz off, but she plops down in the chair when I'm untying my running shoes and she starts to jabber a mile a minute about all the housework I didn't do, how I forgot to call my mom and that I forgot to do something important before I left work.

Let's call my new BFF Fanny. Fanny doesn't like to run, so at first I could go out for a run and she would stay at home with her face pressed against the window waiting for me to return so she could have someone to ~~pester~~ ~~irritate~~ talk to.

Somehow along the way, Fanny figured out how to climb on me and hang on. Let's face it, for those of you who know me, she's probably got her fingers tangled into my 24 pounds of frizzy hair, arms wrapped around my ponytail holder.

At any rate, she comes along on almost every run right now. As the weeks of training progress, she got wise and now I can't fool her into thinking I'm not going for a run, so she's there every time, shrieking with delight and flapping around so I can't forget as I run: I feel tired.

She's coming to work with me most days, too. Pretty soon I know she'll jump into my bag every. single. morning. and I won't be able to get to the office without yawning.

I hate her. Every night I go to sleep and I think she will get bored and slip off into someone else's house, but every morning she's at the breakfast table waiting for me with a big grin, ready to start the day.

I have a message for Fanny: House guests and fish both stink after three days.

Hueston Woods State Park hawks at the Nature Center

2011-06-26T13:05:00.003-05:00

Here is the screech owl being talked about and shown off. Later on that afternoon, we took a hike with this naturalist. We learned a lot about the trees of Southern Ohio.
Here is a hawk. I can't believe it was only a few days ago and I don't remember his story:

Same hawk looking stately and handsome.

The hawk below is a Rough-Legged Hawk. Normally, he only visits Ohio in the winter and then goes up to Northern Canada the rest of the year. A man saw this hawk hit by a car in Miamisburg and stopped. He put the hawk in the car and drove the hour to the park. They took the hawk in and cared for him, but he is injured too much to be released successfully. The veterinarians say he will be fine in the hotter Ohio summers, but they're still working on getting him used to being around them, let alone all the human visitors.

I got this photo of his feathers, too.

There is another Turkey Vulture that lives within the compound. He chooses to be there and has been for years. He isn't made to stay, but he does. I wonder what makes a bird decide to stick around like that. There's a colony of Turkey Vultures by the lodge and it was relaxing to see them ride the thermals all afternoon and evening.

Owls at the nature center at Hueston Woods

2011-06-26T12:49:00.007-05:00

This cute little screech owl, Elvira, is nibbling on the naturalist's finger. She was hit by a car and lost her eye. Since she can't hunt, she lives at the nature center.
Here's another photo where you can see her eye a little:

Here's an owl (with both eyes) getting some affection. You can see in this photo that he had a serious injury to his wing. Notice that it has been amputated:

This owl just looks angry, but I think most owls do. What do you think? All the animals here have been injured. Most of the birds have had wings amputated or have shoulder injuries that prevent them from flying. I believe this is the owl that was found after being shot with a shotgun.

Here's the bobcat again:

I'm a little surprised, but I didn't get photos of the eagles. They have a bald eagle and a golden eagle. They're both pretty old. The bald eagle has had lead poisoning, so his brain isn't quite right. I think the golden eagle had a wing injury, but I'm not sure.

We left a donation for the care of these critters. The cougar alone takes about $3,000 a year.

Ralph the Turkey Vulture in Ohio

2011-06-26T12:17:00.004-05:00

All these shots are from the Nature Center at Hueston Woods State Park. This little bird ate some of the cougar's food. He was flying inside the bobcat's cage and the naturalist said he has seen the bobcat take out a bird that flew around too much!
Here's Cougie taking a bow:
Here's a close up of the hot dog leftovers. You're welcome:
We learned a lot about Turkey Vultures. They're really quite smart and also a good example of how we're built for our purposes. His head, for example, has no feathers. But that makes it easier for him to keep clean since he eats dead things. His nose also has a huge, open nostril so he can better smell his lunch:
They vomit when they feel trapped, so they're often named Ralph or Chuck. I had my camera zoomed in as much as it would allow, so these photos are grainy. The shot below doesn't show his feathers off as nicely as I hoped, but he is really a pretty bird.
His name is Ralph and here is his story. Ralph is 41 years old. He was hatched at Miami University in Oxford, Ohio as part of a psychology experiment. Who needs to understand the psychology of a turkey vulture is my question. But after the experiment ended and because he was imprinted, he didn't know how to hunt for himself, so he was given to the Nature Center back in the 70s.

Early one summer he spent an entire day standing in a dish of water. They all thought he was just hot and didn't think much of it. But the next day, he was gone. The leathers on his legs had softened to the point where he could get out of them. He flew over to the campground and spent the summer there eluding the naturalists and stealing hot dogs and other food from the campers. He spent that summer out and about, but when it began to get cold again, he came back home and he's been there ever since.

A cougar and a bobcat walk into a restaurant...

2011-06-26T11:04:00.006-05:00

This past week I spent a few days at Hueston Woods State Park with my niece and was I ever impressed! We stayed at the Lodge with its spacious rooms that had excellent mattresses and bedding, microwave, refrigerator, DVD player and VCR. Plenty of storage space, which is usually wanting in hotel rooms and a large balcony with a view of the lake. It was nice.

We went over to the Nature Center on the grounds and met some very interesting animals.

First post: the cougar and bobcat. The cougar's name is Cougie and if you're like me, you may initially wonder why in the world a state park in Southern Ohio keeps a cougar. This place is a sanctuary and Cougie, who is 17 years old, was bred on a farm in Colorado where some loser breeds exotic animals for pets. Cougie is declawed and was confiscated from an owner in Ohio. Cougie eats "things left over from when hot dogs are made." OK: gross.

The bobcat, shoot, I can't recall his name, was also bred as a pet. He is 21 years old and also declawed. He had killed the family dog and was locked in a bedroom in an apartment where he lived with a family of human idiots and fools.

You'll get no apologies from me for a strong opinion on this.

He was taken into custody and turned over to the state park where he also eats hot dog leftovers! The bobcat is shy and the first time we saw him, we didn't. We saw what looked to be an empty cage. When he was fed, the naturalist put the food into the enclosure and then told us that he wouldn't eat until we left. Others moved on, but we hid behind the fence and I put the camera up to record him eating. You can tell while he eats that he is watching all over to see that no one sneaks up on him.

Cougie is on YouTube because the video is so long. You don't need to watch the whole thing to get the idea, but the naturalist is speaking and so I kept recording. See the video here.

Here is the bobcat:

Learn more about AIDS orphans

2011-06-17T08:16:00.000-05:00

Take a look at this newsletter to learn a little bit about the organization I'm working with to raise money for AIDS orphans. Read it here.

Where have I been?

2011-06-16T19:26:00.002-05:00

I've been blogging somewhere else, but it isn't a permanent move. I'll be back.

See the posts so far and what I'm up to these days.

Nature Notes: impromptu bird bath

2011-06-08T20:52:00.004-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

I planted this rose bush only last year. It came it a gallon jug, so you can imagine how small it was. It went insane, didn't it? Also, I've put out water for the robins that hang out in the front yard. This photo is from my cell phone and as is typical for that, it isn't a good photo. But mostly it doesn't do the roses justice. Everything bloomed at once and it isn't quite as awkward looking in real life as it looks in the photo!

Nature Notes: Why you should check it out

2011-05-26T19:19:00.007-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

I've been doing Nature Notes for quite awhile now as a testimony to the friendship I feel for the creator, Michelle.

Years ago, the people in my real life learned of Michelle when I started to refer to her regarding anything to do with birds and wildlife. Rescuing an animal? I run to her blog. Can't identify a bird? I run to her blog. Have a question about ... anything? I run to her blog.

She's my expert.

But there's more to it than that. I believe people like Michelle have a love within them that not everyone can claim. Not every teacher has this love, but this sort of love makes them teachers. She's the kind of teacher who will change your life in some way if you pay attention. For those of you who know me in real life, she's like Lois M. Jones: You can imagine how fond I am of Michelle.

When I say you should check out her blog on my Nature Notes posts, I'm doing you a big favor. Do yourself a favor and poke around. On her blog, look at the links at the top and along the right side for more information about something that interests you. Read her posts and get to know her. You won't be sorry.

Michelle and Rose are two people I consider friends and they both became my first contributors to support my summer-long project of raising money for AIDS orphans in Tanzania. I didn't ask them to do that, so I'm thinking they must count me as a friend in return.

For that, the internet is worth everything.

Now for Nature Notes Thursday, which I've found get away from me before I blink.

When we bought this house, there were roses on the south side. I really figured they'd die over that first winter because I think of roses as being fussy and not worth the trouble and way too much work. Then after years of neglecting them and realizing they had enough pluck to live without me, I tried something.

I brewed some coffee and I 'watered' the roses with the coffee. I rinsed, dried and ground up egg shells and mixed them into the soil. The results are below:

I have looked at ALL my photos and I don't have a "before" photo, so that should probably tell you something about how the plant looked in years past. I have photos of every. single. thing. that grows in my backyard, but not this plant.

A big thank you!

2011-05-25T16:44:00.012-05:00

Rose from the Pics & Pieces blog started off my fundraising efforts with my first donation! She is a good blogging friend to me, obviously. I'd like to do all of you a favor and suggest that head over to her blog and look at phenomenal photos and read a story. Pour a cup of coffee or tea and spend 5-10 minutes.

Maybe you'll hang out for awhile.

Rose's photos and memories are worthy of their own book and that's no exaggeration. If you grew up on a farm, in the country or visited a farm or visited the country, you'll relate to what she's writing.

While not every post has a memory, she writes in such a way that after I read her stories, I can imagine her leaning out the back screen door hollering my name to tell me it's supper time. And I grew up in the suburbs or in Army towns! Her stories make me think of mere moments from my childhood. The kind of moments that are partly images, mostly emotion.

Like the one Sunday afternoon I went home with a girl from church and we went to her grandmother's house. I had never seen a farm like that, played so hard or had such a Sunday dinner. I remember the way that day made me feel 30+ years ago. Rose reminds me of people I have known like friends of the family who had a funny story to tell or who dropped in for a visit over coffee at the kitchen table.

There's warmth and generosity about her that shines through her writing. I stumbled onto her blog one day when I hit the "next blog" link on someone else's blog. I've been reading her for years now.

Do yourself a favor. Read this post I've selected. I chose it because it is a combination of a little bit of the past, her incredible photos and a situation she had just encountered: buying clothespins. I totally heart this post for you. I think you'll enjoy it.

"There is no time to think about how much I hurt; there is only time to run." Ben Logsdon

2011-05-24T11:19:00.003-05:00

I'm currently in physical therapy not so much because I injured myself (I know that's what you were thinking) but because my knee hurt. The lovely physical therapist who is now my BFF said she'd rather see me now than in five years when I am in pain and can't run anymore. She also said she would rather see a hundred of me than one who put off getting help until it was too late.

And then she said, "I've just met you and talked to you for five minutes and I can tell already you don't like change."

Say what?

I laughed. She taped my knee, which produces a funny feeling not only in your knee, but also pulling on your skin and sort of turning your stomach queasy. The tape is so tight at first that I can't bend my leg and she wanted me to step up onto a high step with the taped knee...the knee that didn't bend due to the tape.

Following along? I grimaced and that made her say I don't like change. So funny that people can tell us about ourselves. She's right, of course. I don't like change until I get underway. Then it's OK until things change again.

Can I get an amen?

A few days later and the tape is more comfortable. It gets so comfortable you think it isn't holding your kneecap in place anymore. This tape they use is industrial strength. You should need a prescription to buy this tape. If this were WWII, this tape would be rationed for the boys overseas is what I'm saying. A weapon of some sort of destruction on a conveniently sized roll.

I've had my knee taped before, but she wisely reminded me not to pull it off like a Band-Aid because it will fair take a hunk of skin with it. So I did that in the tub with hot water and a lot of soap and some gentle coaxing.

And that's when I learned the same lesson a second time. I've blogged about my obsession with repeating my mistakes, yes? So you know all about that little issue of mine.

The tape was still working after all. But I was told to take it off on Saturday, so I did. I ran six miles first, but then I took it off and now I wish it was back on.

See how I didn't like the tape (change) and then I got used to it right away (underway) and then when it came off, I started all over again (further change).

I go back in the morning. I bet she won't put the tape back on. That's not change, that's called not getting my own way, which is often the best thing since I'm not the one with the education in physical therapy.

(Edited this morning: It was taped again. More waxing rhapsodic over my PT in next post)

What I'll be doing this summer

2011-05-24T10:57:00.004-05:00

As if I needed a reason to be tired all the time, I've decided to make training worthwhile this year. Many of you probably already know that Africa has a real problem with HIV/AIDS. Tanzania alone has about a million orphans who have lost one or both parents and some who have also been infected with the disease.

Read what I'll be up to this summer at a different blog: http://caronr4rproject.blogspot.com/.

2011-05-11T10:37:00.002-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

I found this beauty on my way into the office yesterday morning. He (she?) was on the pavement just steps away from the front door and I was surprised he hadn't been stepped on. I didn't know if touching his beautiful wings would mess something up, so I put my bags on the ground (carefully avoiding the goose poop - we have a nesting pair) and took two envelopes out.

Using the two envelopes, I finally got him moved over to the mulch. He didn't enjoy my attentions and of course, I couldn't sit him down over a cuppa Joe to explain the dangers of people who are just walking out of a door and looking out rather than down. He struggled off the envelopes three times. I felt lucky to get him where I got him.

I prayed for him all morning! I did! I was hoping he just needed to rest and as soon as he gathered himself, he could leave. He was huge, did I mention that? Just gorgeous, too. His body is fuzzy and the browns are lovely shades.

When I went to a late lunch, he was gone. I'm envisioning happy days of flying around making baby moths or whatever extremely handsome moths do in the month of May.

And then there was one

2011-05-09T19:45:00.002-05:00

Little "Lily"

July 30, 1997-May 7, 2011

Lily left Eeyore behind.

I don't want to talk about it.

Nature Notes: Gorse fires in Northern Ireland

2011-05-05T09:34:00.006-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

I awoke this morning to a cup of coffee and CBS news talking endlessly about OBL's death and all the details they think they can muster. They've talked to Navy SEALs, who if they really are talking, should hush themselves. They speak about the damage left behind and the "real" information that wasn't in initial reports as if we've been betrayed. In Journalism school, I swore I would never go into broadcast journalism because I couldn't debase myself enough to cough up the crap I've seen on television since I was a kid.

I believe there is a quality to print journalism that is valuable although naturally I don't always like or believe what I read. But look at the condition of print journalism in this country compared to the television news rating circus.

When I checked my Twitter feed this morning, I found an article from the BBC that both lifted my spirits and gave me my Nature Notes post. It's not long, it's about the fires in Northern Ireland, it's balanced in a way you don't find much these days in environmental journalism and it's beautifully written. The link is at the bottom.

I hope you read it.

Here is an excerpt:

There were collective sighs from firemen, land owners and police as the first rain for three weeks fell on Northern Ireland's smouldering heathlands, woodlands and mountains.

There was also a prolonged hiss.

It came from the last embers being extinguished as the rain drops did their work and saved the environment.

It was that bad. If the dry windy weather had continued the damage would have increased.

Instead of flashing across the dry grass, gorse and heather (often doing nature a favour) the fire had the chance to linger, damaging roots and seeds in the ground.

And the damage has been considerable.

The bodies of charred lizards lie in some areas, in others the charred eggs of ground nesting birds. Food resources have been destroyed, putting newly hatched chicks of many birds, including the endangered hen harrier, at risk of starving.

It is all a subtle balance - or was. Swathes of heather are gone. They will eventually be replaced by coarse grass. It is more competitive than the slow growing heather when it comes to filling the charred gaps.

In the thin soil and peat of the Mourne Mountains, for example, the grass provides no protection against erosion. Heavy rain pouring off steep heather-free hillsides will wash the soil, the loose rocks and the mountain side away.

In just two days human activity has done more damage than has occurred in centuries.

Read the entire article here.

A day on the job with ADD

2011-05-03T20:04:00.011-05:00

I start my day with coffee from home. It's my favorite coffee. Turn on radio if I remember, respond to emails I checked when I woke up earlier.

Remember at the last minute that I have a candidate coming in. Why do I schedule interviews in the morning?

Think about putting on lipstick. Forget to do that. Look around my office to see if there's anything I need to sort, like a pile of receipts from my purse. Throw the receipts in the gallon-size Ziploc bag in my drawer. Put yesterday's water bottles in my recycling bag. Wonder why my drawer smells so bad? Try to remember to look in the drawer for rogue potpourri, broken perfume bottle or laundry soap. Overpowering. Fill two water bottles.

Answer the phone. Visit with co-worker. Greet candidate. Serve coffee. Ask candidate what they want in their next job, why they're leaving the current job and how much money they make. Make private notes in my head about things people shouldn't do or say in an interview.

Show the candidate out of the office because one wall is painted bright orange and one wall is painted bright purple and my office is the furthest from the front door, so no one can find their way through the cubicle farm between the rivers of color. Wash my hands. Look at my hair and wonder for the 53073,3425.0534,343th time if I should cut it a little shorter and also wonder why it's so frizzy.

Check Twitter, check LinkedIn. Eat oatmeal, maybe. Put our logo on a candidate's resume and say out loud, "Stop formatting your stupid resumes, people!" Listen to the Monkees. Sing along. Realize my office door is open. Look outside.

Bird! Squirrel! Should I Twitter something?

Walk around the office and look at people. Consider candy from the dish. Pick up candy. Put candy back.

Go back to my desk to continue reformatting a resume. In frustration, clear their formatting and start from scratch. Count their bullet points. Curse Bill Gates, Wordstar and Word Perfect. Bah. Check Google Reader for blog updates. Too many to read, put that off until later.

Call several candidates. Talk someone off the ledge. Get up for a tissue because the box is on the table due to a crying unemployed woman. She's sweet. I should call her and see how she's doing. Eat an orange.

Glittery!

Talk to co-worker about running, lack of running, upcoming runs and how poorly prepared and/or lazy we are. Call sweet candidate. She's fine. Check the weather. Talk to a friend. "What are you doing?" Skype, make a list, get up and look in the fridge. Charge my phone. Buckle down and call the candidate I don't want to talk to.

Look in the fridge. Think about whales. Wander. Look at Facebook.

Answer all the emails from the emails I sent out the afternoon prior. Everyone answers at once. Make notes, scan a document, random thought. Copy comments into database, call people back, comb my hair, schedule interviews. Weasel my way onto a employment panel at a networking event. Call people. Read resumes. Check my email. Pull my hair into a ponytail. Answer questions about interviewing for a candidate's second job interview through another vendor. Feel smug when he tells me I 'geek' interview tips.

Shake my head.

Shut my door, turn on the radio. Send out emails to update candidates and reach out to candidates who have recently found jobs. Do you like it? Do you hate it? You hate it! Yay! I have 10 jobs you might like more! Drink water. Look outside.

Put on my coat, put my phone in my purse. Leave the office after I turn off the television no one else remembers to turn off. Go back upstairs and get what I forgot. Walk to the car. Go home.

Relaxify Myself

2011-05-01T21:41:00.004-05:00

I stayed in bed with a sick cat for a total of 6 hours. She laid on me and slept while I watched a movie and some television reruns. I walked three miles. I sat in my mother-in-law's driveway for a visit in the sunshine. I made brownies.

That's it. That was my Sunday. I hope yours was just as relaxing as mine.

I've been meaning to do Nature Notes and write about goofy things, but I am busy either: running, swimming, walking, eating, working or sleeping. Except for today. And maybe some other days when laziness has taken over.

If you've been around awhile, you may remember that I get to the running and swimming and little else as things ramp up. But this year, I'm 4.5 months before my first half marathon with the second a month later. I'm starting as early as year 1, but way earlier than last year. I ran just over 10.5 miles last week. I'll get there. What strikes me is how I can be busy and only run 10.5 miles. It's still a circus over here trying to get out the door.

Last fall I planted bulbs and got some nice results. I took photos last week, but there wasn't any sunshine. These were for Nature Notes, which snuck up on me. I took these Thursday morning on my way to work and then never stopped at work long enough to post. This week I have purple tulips that weren't blooming at all last week.

The tulip buds below are now purple. I didn't plan on purple and peach tulips, right? I gardened yesterday and as I beheld the glory that is my little plot I had to admit it has to the most poorly-planned garden I've ever seen. But then there's the whole LiBud tree I have growing in my back yard and all I can say is to know me is to love me and shake your head a lot.

Also, I have a question. Will rabbits eat my onion tops? Because I have rabbits and I thought I had planted onions in this one spot, but there aren't any little green sprouts. Also, I saw a garden today that has onions growing and they're huge already. I hope I didn't plant too late and they grow okay once the Iowa oven begins to bake.

Save The Frogs Day is today!

2011-04-29T16:17:00.002-05:00

I shamelessly stole this from Rambling Woods' Save the Frogs Day post and I hope she doesn't mind. This is really important to everyone in the human race.

This is toward the end of the short article, but it should be the first thing you read, "Over half of the DNA found in frogs is also found in humans, so if these pesticides kill frogs, imagine what they do to us!"

Pesticides and herbicides are toxic chemicals that generally undergo little to no testing on amphibians prior to their being approved for use. Unfortunately, the law of gravity has it that many of these pesticides end up in waterways, where amphibians live and breed. To make matters worse, amphibians have permeable skin that is highly absorbent. Populations of the endangered mountain yellow-legged frog Rana muscosa that live downwind of highly agricultural areas in California’s Central Valley have disappeared at a significantly higher rate than other populations.

Atrazine, perhaps the most commonly used herbicide on the planet (33 million kg are applied each year in the US alone), can cause hermaphroditism in frogs (males grow female sex organs) at ecologically relevant doses, and can reduce survivorship in salamanders. Atrazine also affects water quality in lakes, resulting in more snails. These snails serve as intermediary hosts of a trematode parasite that burrows into the developing limbs of tadpoles and causes limb malformations.

Roundup (also sold as Touchdown Total) is lethal to gray treefrog and leopard frog tadpoles, and most likely a host of other as yet untested frog species. Roundup is the 2nd most commonly applied herbicide in the USA; it’s produced by Monsanto, the same folks who gave us Agent Orange. Over half of the DNA found in frogs is also found in humans, so if these pesticides kill frogs, imagine what they do to us! Read more about pesticides here, and sign this petition to get Atrazine federally banned and out of production.

Where's my keyboard?

2011-04-26T15:15:00.003-05:00

Before I left for Ohio, I asked the office manager if she could use her pull with the hardware folks to get someone to speed up my computer. I came back to the office to find that someone had been on my computer and for the first week, it was Speedy Habib.

Speedy Habib is a joke from a trip I took once...the sort of joke that you shouldn't explain because you weren't there, but there was this guy climbing a mountain side. He was going really fast...oh, forget it. Just trust me. He wasn't Speedy Gonzalez, he was Speedy Habib.

So my computer was at the Indianapolis 500 for the first week I was back and then it realized I had come home because it is almost to the crawl it was before I left. When I returned, the first thing I noticed was missing was the tool bar at the bottom of my monitor screen.

The second thing I noticed was that my Irish keyboard toggle was gone!

I wailed. I tore at my hair. I almost fainted. I told my boss that while I was most grateful for the assistance, and I hated to be a complainer, things were missing that I used.

I didn't tell him it was my Irish keyboard because obviously. I'm not sitting here recruiting Irish folk for jobs in Central Iowa although I'm happy to do so and four years ago found an Irish bloke a job, but I digress.

So here I am without my useful and important keyboard, the one I miss every day of my working life and today I decide to participate in the World o'Twitter. I am quoting Zig Ziglar, who is a smart chap, and I need a hash tag so I can give him credit because although I am completely unfamiliar with Twitter and don't know what I'm doing, I assume I should give the man proper credit. I hit Shift-3, which should give me a hash tag or a pound sign or a sharp sign. Depends all on what sector of the universe you live in, I suppose.

But look what I got instead: #

Now you may feel bewildered at this point and lunging for a view of your 3 key to see the hash tag right there. That's what I just did.

But in a MS Word document, I get a British pound sign. Like a dollar sign $, see? Only for the Royal Wedding. For the other side of the pond. For the losing side of the Revolution. I can't find a hash tag anywhere on my keyboard now unless I'm online. Also confusing for Twitter is the @ sign, which on an Irish keyboard is the double quote key.

See, I was in Word typing out my Twitter because I am lazy (copy&paste) and curious and wanted to see how many characters it was...Whatever! The point is now I am stuck with the Irish keyboard I rarely use but couldn't live without because the toggle has gone missing.

Unless I'm online. Then apparently I am typing in U.S. English. Which means all my Tweets will have to be written out by my very own fingers. Dang. My head hurts.

Rain, rain, go away

2011-04-25T20:06:00.002-05:00

I have decided that while we are in the middle of the rainy season I should focus on getting some tasks done indoors. So I'm sitting in bed with my computer open on my lap. I have notes scattered around me.

I'm ready to write.

Except that I keep stalling. That little part of my brain that hates change keeps telling me to hold back. Don't work too hard. Lose focus. What if you try and fail? Oh, look! Bright shiny object!

Something I'm working on right now is an article to submit to a job board. I have two article ideas and their writer's guidelines printed out. It won't happen in the next hour. But it isn't going to happen in the next year if I don't start typing.

Plus, I have a cat trying to sit on my keyboard. I swear the world is conspiring against me, but of course it isn't really the world. It's just my brain. I thought maybe if I came over here and wrote some nonsense, it would loosen things up for me. No wonder I liked journalism school - everything was on a deadline. Every story I worked on today was due by 4 pm at the newspaper. Even the media office stuff was expected by a certain date no matter how much research or how many interviews were required.

I guess I'm done whining. I'll let you know how it goes.

Deals are bustin' out all over

2011-04-22T22:51:00.006-05:00

A friend of mine sent me a text message this week that said my store is closing and everything is 75% off, so I high-tailed my tail over there this afternoon.

My boss let us go home an hour early, so I dropped into the store before they closed. If it was my size or close to my size and came even slightly close to tickling my fancy, I tried it on. This store is a charity shop, not a consignment store, so their prices are great. Coats and fancy dresses are usually $20, sweaters and slacks are generally $8-12, T-shirts are $5-6. I got $88 in clothes for $22 including a pair of beautiful slacks from Limited for $3.50 and a pair of slacks from Ann Taylor Loft for the same. I got a nice jacket for springtime - a light wool herringbone jacket for $5.00 and Tommy Hilfiger jeans for $2.oo.

I love this store. I hate that they're closing.

Then when I got home I went for a walk. Earlier today I went to church for a Good Friday service. The past two weeks have been really busy at work and I've enjoyed every minute of it. I'll be visiting blogs this weekend.

You never know what the day will bring

2011-04-17T14:28:00.014-05:00

For those of you who are on Facebook with me and haven't kicked me out of your news feed due to my recent obsession with Cityville, you know by now that my grandson got into an accident on his dirt bike.

He's only just turned 6, but to his credit, he has been on a dirt bike for years already. He loved the sound of a motorcycle engine since he was a baby. But he is only six years old and he made a mistake. His great-grandfather owns 53 acres of land on which they dirt bike. Along a short strip of that acreage is Highway 141 headed northwest out of Des Moines. It's a dangerous and mostly rural strip of road. It has been deadly for decades, but they've put up stop lights in the smaller towns that line the highway and that has reduced accidents and deaths. It's a two-lane divided highway with a high speed limit. Which means, of course, that it's like a drag strip.

Long story short, he came to the end of the property and turned left to swing back and go over some hills - sounds like fun, but he swung too wide and ended up in the middle of the highway's slow lane. It chills me just to type it.

I could hardly stop praying long enough last night to go to sleep.

The 70-year-old woman who hit him head-on, God bless her, saw him in time to stand on the brake. Estimates are that she was down to about 20 mph when they collided. She asked the deputy if she did OK, was there something else she should have done, should she have swerved?

It's interesting to me that he said no, she shouldn't have swerved. He said she did everything right. I don't know if that's true or if he was being kind. He said if she had swerved, he might have been struck again by the car behind her.

The bike took the impact. It hit at the forks and pushed the tire into the bike. Unfortunately for him, he's pretty much sitting on the gas tank and he slid off the bike over the gas cap. I leave the rest to you. He is deeply bruised and swollen, but thank God, the doctor says there is no lasting damage. He can't take more than about 3 steps at a time today.

He has spoken to the driver and told her that he is OK. I hope it helped her. I can hardly imagine what she must have felt.

He was wearing full protective gear: denim, knee pads, riding pants, chest protector, elbow pads, gloves, a helmet that fit and a neck roll. His neck isn't even sore, PTL! I got to see him with my own eyes this morning and although I could tell he had his bell rung, he looks great. I took him his tiger and that seemed to make him happy.

In the Department of Grandparental Deception, I told him that during his CAT scan there were many cats, smart cats unlike my cats, that run around the tube and look to see if there's anything wrong on the inside of him. Then I explained that a PET scan uses pets of any kind as long as they're really smart...hamsters, dogs, cats, snakes, rats...you know, smart pets. They all work at the nation's hospitals.

That's why most all of our pets, while immensely lovable, are not always the smartest pets on the block.

My first week back

2011-04-16T21:12:00.003-05:00

Greetings! I've been back in Iowa for one week and what I mostly have to say about it is that I'm exhausted. Work this week was fabulous and I was very busy. It felt good, but it's drained me. I think something funny and bloggable happened, but I haven't the slightest notion of what it was.

I went for a run. I'm pretty sure. I think I did, but not to be funny, I can't recall right now. Our Irish language class met and they didn't rise up against me in revolt, so I must have stayed awake for most of it. I just don't think I remember what we covered.

When I got home last Saturday, I only had a few daffodil buds. Now I have daffodils and hyacinths and maybe a few other things. The rhubarb is growing. I need to clean up the peonies, but it's just too cold and windy outside to do it now. Before long it will be too late. That was to be my Nature Notes blog post.

I went to the Des Moines Playhouse this week and saw Dirty Rotten Scoundrels. That was fun, but it was a late night adding to my fatigue. Additionally, I have not gotten around to my favorite blogs. I will do so! I miss you all and hope you'll come along and read my sorry excuse for not blogging.

Lastly, my mother-in-law said something about Easter and did you know Easter is NEXT WEEKEND? Holy Smoley, folks. I joked about ham salad sandwiches, but she said, "Shoot, it doesn't need to be ham." She's so good. How about pizza delivery? Chinese take-away?

Have a nice weekend!

Chopped: The Emerald Ash Borer

2011-04-06T20:30:00.013-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

The Emerald Ash Borer is an exotic beetle found in Michigan in 2002. It has since begun to spread and destroy Ash trees in parts of the United States and Canada. Here at the Cox Arboretum in Dayton, Ohio, they've found the EAB and they've had to take action. For more information about the EAB, go here to learn more.

Trees are cut down all over the arboretum.
The sign explains why. It says, "The Dot Marks The Spot. Ash trees with white dots are part of a study on how to handle the advance of the Emerald Ash Borer."
Marked for death?
Another sign explaining that this tree has been left behind to show the damage. I'm not sure if it has been disinfected, but I imagine they have removed the EAB.
Here's a close up of the damage.
If you are transporting wood, stop. Don't take your firewood across state lines. Just burn it at home.

What the last month has taught me

2011-04-06T10:18:00.010-05:00

Let's do random chat!

1. Daytime television has very little variety. I have seen way too much Susan Lucci. She's a wonderful person, I'm sure. She's a little bony for a spaghetti strap dress, but other than that I can't judge her. What I can judge is overexposure and I'm not talking about the spaghetti strap dress. Apparently she wrote a book or she's in a movie or something, something, something.

Also, Ashley Judd? On one of the morning shows they said they had called her sister and her mother about the book she just released. Mom said, "I love my daughter very much and hope her book is successful." In other words, I don't believe you. Whether it's true or not: ouch.

2. The last time I watched Dancing with the Stars was 2006. It was also the last time I spent weeks with my mom. My dad had just died and I was there for six weeks working on the house. I got all wrapped up in the show, but when I got home I sort of forgot about it. Well now I'm back to watching it and I'm all bummed that Wendy Williams got kicked off and if that idiot Bruno Whoever calls Kendra Wilkinson a stripper again, Ima shoot the man. First, he makes a fool of himself every time he opens his mouth and second, she isn't just a stripper. I don't know if she still strips at all or if she was, in fact, a stripper. But she is a wife and a mother, so shut it. Maybe, upon a half-second of reflection, this is more about hating Bruno Whoever than it is being a Kendra fan.

3. Loud noise really bothers me. Doesn't matter what the noise is. No one else thinks things are noisy the way I do. Noise makes me stabby and snappy. I am a self-awarded wonderful person, but noise, oh noise. I need quiet otherwise I begin to feel as though I am not so wonderful and that will.not.do.

4. Idleness is difficult for me. I read once that there are people who can sit for long periods of time and be content and not feel as though they have to move. I am not that person. I do not fit into that category. I have to move around. Sitting sucks. The less I move around, the more I get antsy physically, mentally and emotionally. You will not believe how overbooked I am for next week, which is my first week back home. I'm totally overdoing it.

5. I've ramped up the time I'm spending on Linked In and I can't help but notice that almost everyone either sounds important or they want to sound important. I don't blame them and I'm not complaining, I'm just asking myself what the problem is with being a regular person and a regular employee rather than everyone wanting to be a rock star or a ninja. Why not bill yourself as a rational person who shows up to get the job done without all the superlatives?

6. Finally, and I thank you for letting me get this off my chest and many of you will think I am insane but take a deep breath and hear the news: I do not get all this extreme cake baking and decorating. These shows are edited to build tension, but I'm thinking I have enough tension in my life that I don't want to sit on the couch and watch other people freak out. Also, a cake that is three feet tall and has many dangly, spinning bits doesn't make me want to eat cake. I love cakes both pretty and ugly as long as they're tasty, don't get me wrong. The issue isn't cake. But cakes with moving parts and tons of fondant ... that's just not tasty.

Clearly I need to get away from the television!

Haiku for a runner

2011-04-03T18:11:00.006-05:00

Running at the arboretum has been wonderful. I think of the darndest things while I run. I don't use music; I listen to the world around me more than anything else. I often think of the future or what I'm working on. I tend to think about big things rather than little things like what's for supper. Sometimes, like today, I surprise myself.

I thought of haiku.

I know.

But the arboretum trails are not long. The trails that are in the wide open are very small and looping. The trails that go through the open woods are not long, either. Therefore I go around and around. I don't joke when I say I go around and around and around. I've been the only runner in the "fancy" part of the park. On the other trails, I see all sorts of runners and walkers of every age.

In the wide open part of the arboretum ... that's where all those flowers are! The trees and the grass and the buds and the blooms. Plus? It's April! April is poetry, apparently.

Mindlessly running

Leaf, tree, flower, breeze and grass

Runner in the sun

I made up about five different poems. I didn't say they were good, but they came from a happy run, so I like them.

A heron flies overhead

2011-04-02T20:40:00.003-05:00

I was out walking the dog yesterday when I saw a large bird fly overhead. It was a heron! There's a creek alongside one border of the complex where my mom lives and I've seen a lot of birds. I expected him to go down to the water, but he landed softly on the naked branches way up high.

This heron was so graceful for such a big, long-legged bird. I waited for almost 15 minutes, but he just sat there. He lifted one leg a few times. He picked bugs off himself. His back feathers draped behind him like a shaggy morning coat.
Since I was walking the dog, I only had my phone for a camera. I had a much better view than this. I could see his tummy, his eyes and the ruffle of his feathers in the wind. That golden setting sun shone upon him and made his feathers golden. At first I thought it was the color of his upper breast, but he began cleaning his feathers and the golden color moved.
Soaking up the final rays of sunshine, I left him to it. I walked all the way back to the house and he was still sitting there.

The golden glow of the setting sun

2011-04-02T20:13:00.001-05:00

Walking the dog

2011-04-02T19:47:00.010-05:00

I have spent three weeks spoiling my mom's dog rotten with treats and many daily walks. He is a Chinese Crested Powder Puff purebred with a tattoo on his tummy to prove it.

That sounds painful.

His name is Mooch. My dad named him Mooch because that's what he does best. You can't eat around the dog that he doesn't sit politely and wait for you to drop everything on the floor. I'm thinking he'd be a good dog for kids who don't like broccoli. Dogs in this breed are good for people with allergies and the dog has no doggie odor, but this dog licks.

All.The.Time.

I hate being licked by a dog.

Years ago, Mooch came from a breed rescue. He was going to be put down because his ears don't stand up like they're "supposed" to. Other than the ears and the disgusting, incessant licking, I think that's all that's wrong with him. This is an active breed and he doesn't get a lot of walks, but my mom plays with him and lets him run around the house.

Tonight we walked .52 miles around the parking lot. I tried the entire time to convince him that constant movement is exercise.

Sniffing and peeing is a stroll.

2011-04-02T19:23:00.001-05:00

Making the same mistake over and over

2011-04-01T17:08:00.015-05:00

I went for a run at the arboretum today. I started out hoping for just 30 minutes of walking. I was walking along a small trail that is sheltered by trees, looping around and around and around until I was dizzy.

I looked at my Garmin and it said .30 miles. Isn't it always like that? A watched pot never boils and all that. My compulsion kicked in about then, so I decided to branch out, so I headed up an exit trail into the main part of the arboretum for a longer trail.

That's when I saw a woman coming out of the trails area.

She wiped her nose on her sleeve and had a familiar hunch to her shoulders as she walked along the grass. I felt the familiar stabby feeling I get when I see other people run. I thought, "She just ran the trails" and my compulsion went wild. Insanely running, hands flapping, eyes rolling, the people who talk to me in my head screamed that I should run, too.

I've been trying to run while I've been in Dayton. It's been three weeks. I had loads of possibilities in mind.

I've run three times. Three. I'm pretty disappointed in that. It's been cold, it snowed, it rained, it's too windy...the only legitimate excuses I've had is that I've been seriously tired and my mom needed me. Otherwise, I've just been whiny about it.

But every time I've run, I've overdone it. I haven't run more than three miles at a time. How am I overdoing it? So frustrating.

It wasn't until today, for crying out loud, that I realized I have been trying to run a 10-minute mile even though I've been "on a break" and really there's no such thing as a break for a runner. You're either running or you're not running. And let's face it, I've been not running and doing a lot of it.

I began to walk (brisk) and I ran (sloppy) and I walked (b) and I ran (s). As I was becoming more frustrated, I decided to walk and contemplate my future. I even had the grim realization that maybe I'm past it and I will walk the Air Force and Des Moines half marathons this fall.

I hope to someday ~~mock myself~~ have a hearty laugh over the "past it" comment.

Then I think something came to my mind. Something happened, anyway. I remembered how ugly things were when I began training last summer. I started from nothing due to my ~~laziness~~ ~~overeating~~ foot pain. I started out last August doing 12-minute miles! What in the world is wrong with me thinking I should run 10 or better now, in April? I haven't done much running since November, after all.

After my epiphany, I started to run. I paced myself. I put one foot in front of the other at a plodding pace.

It felt wonderful. I ran and I ran and I ran. It felt like it did during the half in October. It felt like I had a pace, I had mojo and I could keep on going. That's the feeling I enjoy. I want to run fast, but I want that feeling more, much more.

I just can't find that feeling at 10 minutes. Not now, not yet. But I will.

I had reread an article from Running Magazine earlier in the week. I've included a paragraph below. I read this paragraph three times.

Perhaps it sunk in today.

COUCH BOUND

by Marc Parent (excerpt, emphasis mine)

Far worse than having to admit to this hiatus is having to admit how painless it was. I wish I could honestly say I missed it (running) more than I actually did, but not running for three weeks was the easiest three weeks of my running life. It wasn't the best three weeks, but it was the easiest. The worst thing about a three-week break is not that it feels like quitting, it's that it feels like you've already quit. Three weeks is not a break. Three weeks means that if you do decide to run, you won't return to it as much as start it again, which makes it all the more difficult to go back. I imagine quitting a sedentary lifestyle is probably a lot like quitting smoking or drinking or any other unhealthy thing, in that the failures are indelibly embedded into the eventual success. The good news in that endeavor is that you don't have to avoid every setback, you only have to succeed one more time than you fail.

Nature Notes: Blue bridge and Zipp, the working man

2011-03-30T12:01:00.007-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

This week has been cold and sunny until today. It's snowing now. I've taken several walks at the Cox Arboretum by my mother's house. This blue bridge really stood out in the sunshine. This photo isn't touched up at all. I didn't saturate the color on the computer and the sunshine really floods all these photos with too much light.

But this bridge just pops right out, bright and cheery.

Zipp is a working Border Collie at the arboretum. He keeps the Canada goose population out of the area completely. He lets the ducks live here, though. You can't bring your dog here to walk around because they don't want anything messing with The Man while he works.

Did anyone notice that Zipp's name is misspelled at the bottom of the sign?

Here is Zipp coming at me. I was photographing the ducks. I took video because I work hard for you all, but Gmail won't let me send it to myself.

He was following a family that was visiting. It's Spring Break in Dayton, so there were kids at the park. You can see one kid in the photo below looking back to see if Zipp is still following. The kids seemed to enjoy their escort, but at first glance (and second glance, too) I wondered if Zipp was telling them it was time for them to leave.

Lastly,, this is a tree that's working hard to bloom. I hope today's snow doesn't make it reconsider!

Ah-ha! Medications are good, but bad

2011-03-29T16:11:00.004-05:00

I have been taking a proton pump inhibitor since early December when I began to have symptoms no one was sure of. I don't like medications.

I know people take meds and they're good for life, good for managing symptoms and so on. So there's no need to defend the meds you take. I think it's all good. You need to take meds, you should take them. I will admit that at first the doctor said maybe I should be on these and I ignored it. Then the doctor said I should take them as needed, so I bought some. But I didn't need them because I didn't have symptoms for the way the drug is marketed. So I wasn't sure when they wanted me to take them.

Also? Everyone was really vague and actually guessing what was wrong with me. They thought I had gastric reflux, but I don't. So you can imagine my skepticism. I didn't like taking drugs for something they were guessing at.

Then I had some targeted tests. Turns out I had a mystery illness - h. pylori, which is a bacteria that finds a safe harbor in your stomach and silently does a whole lotta damage and you can't necessarily know the nasty little things are in you. So I took them along with mega doses of antibiotics. I'm still taking them. It turns out these drugs are part of a triple-therapy regimen for the mystery illness.

Not that anyone knew what was wrong in the beginning. Are you picking up what I'm throwing down?

It was a coincidence that the drugs were the right ones for my condition.

What I'm saying is that I don't trust medications and I don't happen to like taking them. Now that I've gotten all that off my chest, here's my story about these little babies.

First of all, I laugh when I hear people say that a drug must be OK because the government has approved it. The government has approved a lot of crap over the years, so I don't believe in the infallibility of the FDA.

Second, I don't believe all the documentation that comes with the drugs.

Here's what happened:

I have been taking these drugs for four months now.
Three months into it, I began to have dizzy spells.
I experienced vertigo for the first time ever. What fun!
I called the pharmacy and they said that fewer than 1-2% of people have dizziness, so that probably wasn't it.
I called the doctor and was told that fewer than 1-2% of people have dizziness and that vertigo isn't associated with this drug, so have my doctor check my ears.
My doctor checked my ears and said they were fine and I was fine and who knows why I'm dizzy. She is awesome, so I'm not picking on her. But she said it would probably resolve itself. She prescribed meclizine.
I keep the meclizine in my purse and have used it several times.
I just got a phone call from my pharmacy checking to see how the meclizine is working out. Yes, I have an awesome pharmacy and an awesome doctor.
At the end of the phone call, she said oh by the way, they just got a notice that the other drug I am taking can cause dizziness and sometimes vertigo when it is taken for long periods of time. You can't make these things up, you know?
She said they define "long" as 12-months.

Guess who thinks it's less than 12 months?

The Kentucky Coffee Tree

2011-03-29T07:47:00.010-05:00

Every time I go out for a run I get whiny. I hope it's just because it's cold outside. I thought about running some trails at the arboretum that's really close to my mom's house, so I drove over and ended up walking. I took my camera the first time and used that as my excuse for walking instead of running. I've been there a couple times now, so I thought I'd show you some photos. Here is a tree they have growing there.

The Kentucky Coffee Tree: I hope to remember to go back when I'm in town later this year for follow-up photos. Although the sign says the tree is rare, the Ohio DNR says the tree is widely present in western Ohio where the soils are more akaline. I've added the link below because there's good information on the DNR site.

Here's the tree sans leaves, but you can see the pods hanging on. I think that means this tree is a girl!

Here's a close up of the pods. I caught some nice photos even though I had my little camera and often the glare of the bright sunshine washed out the color. I'm not complaining! If it has to be cold, bring on the sunshine.

According to the Ohio DNR page, this interesting tree "...has the largest leaves of any tree found in eastern North America, with each being up to three feet long and composed of many leaflets."

Nature Notes: Dreary Spring Day

2011-03-24T07:39:00.005-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

Yesterday was so bright and sunny after the threat of severe weather passed. It was humid at first, then warm and pleasant. Unfortunately, it is now 28 degrees outside! There's snow in the forecast for a lot of places today including Dayton.

I walked the dog this morning and everything was gray. According to the weatherman, it will stay that way. It would be fine if not for the wind.

Under this tree and lamp there is a nice white bench. It looks inviting in nicer weather.
This tree catches my eye every time. It's twisted and light-colored like those twigs they sell for home decorating.

Oh, Shenandoah! I long to see you...

2011-03-23T14:55:00.011-05:00

I drove up to Huber Heights, Ohio to take a look at one of my favorite schools. I went to 13 schools, but I was here longer than any other school, including college. I didn't realize it, but I was here at Shenandoah Elementary School (it's been renamed since then to honor a late Principal) the first year it opened.

What delighted me was how much I remembered, which was everything. I remember the sinks, the classrooms without walls, the refried beans in the second grade, the wide open library where I sat at the table shaking my leg and got my first library job. I remembered every single teacher I had. I remember the book they let me write, the music instruction, using the paper cutter in the art room and getting in trouble for it. Getting socked in the eye by Gary Shoemaker's foot during gym...a highlight.

I found out three of my five teachers have passed and one of them has disappeared. No one knows where she is: Margaret Sorrells. I found her photo on a bulletin board of old staff photos. The only other teacher left was someone everyone remembered and that teacher to this day makes me mad due to her use of humiliation in the classroom. So I graciously kept my mouth shut since everyone remembers her and was glad to tell me of at least one teacher.

Instead of having a field day, we had Pioneer Days. We learned how to tie-dye using goldenrod flowers, cooking bread outdoors, sewing, making tiny dolls out of cloth scraps and clothespins.

Yep, it was the 70s.

I had a dress and a bonnet. I promise if I knew where that photo is, I would post it for you. I was freaking adorable. All along the perimeter of the vast playground were shrubs that we used for houses when we played Little House on the Prairie.

I sang in chorus, which might shock you if you have heard me sing. All our concerts were in the gym/lunchroom combo. I remember lunch boxes, one of which I have blogged about. The tables folded into the walls. Here they are in their original avocado-greenness. I just love them!

Yep, up on that stage fame and fortune awaited me. No, not really. Obviously. This is all the fame and fortune I have right now, this blog, yo?

Who in Sam Hill is Sam Hill anyway?

2011-03-22T21:32:00.007-05:00

A few days ago I treated myself to a Shamrock Shake from McDonalds. I hadn't had one in years and I discovered they put whipped cream and a cherry on top now.

It was pretty good. Then today at lunch I ran over to McDonalds and ordered a snack wrap. I drove to the first window and paid. I drove to the second window and she said something about a vanilla shake. She had it in her hand. I smiled and said, "That's not mine" and she replied...wait for it:

"I know. Would you like it anyway?"

Well who in Sam Hill says no to a free vanilla milkshake is what I want to know.

Nature Notes: Plant a Garden

2011-03-16T15:07:00.007-05:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

My mom lives next to a place that is a local landscaper's .. um, place .. it's where they have piles of dirt and all their heavy trucks. They keep the front and sides landscaped. When I arrived here it was apparent they have begun preparations. Things in the areas up front are cleaned out and new dirt has been put down in preparation. It made me think of how, in really early spring, it takes faith to plant those plants.

Spring doesn't look much like spring this early in the year around here.

Plant a Garden

by Edgar Albert Guest

If your purse no longer bulges
and you've lost your golden treasure,
If at times you think you're lonely
and have hungry grown for pleasure,
Don't sit by your hearth and grumble,
don't let mind and spirit harden.
If it's thrills of joy you wish for
get to work and plant a garden!

If it's drama that you sigh for,
plant a garden and you'll get it
You will know the thrill of battle
fighting foes that will beset it
If you long for entertainment and
for pageantry most glowing,
Plant a garden and this summer spend
your time with green things growing.

If it's comradeship you sight for,
learn the fellowship of daisies.
You will come to know your neighbor
by the blossoms that he raises;
If you'd get away from boredom
and find new delights to look for,
Learn the joy of budding pansies
which you've kept a special nook for.

If you ever think of dying
and you fear to wake tomorrow
Plant a garden! It will cure you
of your melancholy sorrow
Once you've learned to know peonies,
petunias, and roses,
You will find every morning
some new happiness discloses.

Things are not always as they seem

2011-03-16T02:06:00.006-05:00

In my early 20s I went to a birthday party where I saw an attractive woman who glowed when she laughed. I saw her husband's eyes sparkle when he watched her. I saw him drape his arm across her chair and I noticed how he would lightly touch her now and then in a way that seemed so affectionate. She radiant under the attention she received.

I mentioned all of this to my mother who wisely said something along the lines of how things are not always what they seem. She was correct, although at the time I was sure she was wrong. In the natural arrogance of a young woman, I thought that the truth was in my observance of it.

I thought I could see for myself the ways things are.

They ended up divorced. It was a difficult divorce, although that's redundant since there really isn't any other kind.

It was a little surprising to me that my mom knew something. I was so sure she was wrong because she didn't see what I had seen. Much later I realized that she knew things I wasn't privy to.

I guess in some ways I knew even then that what you see is not always what you get. But youth has a certain predictable way of looking at life and youth's truth is one thing not always rooted in actuality.

There are varying degrees of it, of course. There are those eager to learn and those open to unseen possibilities, but there are some who continually hold fast to their version of the truth despite repeated batterings from reality.

One troubling version of youth's truth is self-perception. It tends to be skewed and it tends to hang around well into adult life. I used to say and frankly, still believe, that it's called self esteem for a reason: it's what we think of ourselves. Therefore if we think too little of ourselves, it is we who control those thoughts and can change them.

I know things are not always what they seem.

I know now that although I still believe this, there are underlying issues that can complicate our view. Some are serious issues streaming from abuse, neglect or violence and those must be addressed.

Yet...still...things are not always what they seem.

It may seem insurmountable to change one's self-image, but I believe we all have the power to shift the tide. So take a look at yourself and pick something you like. Focus on it and talk to yourself positively about it for the rest of your life.

You know that long list you can rattle off of things that are wrong with you? Think again.

Things are not always as they seem.

Sleeping on a popsicle stick

2011-03-15T21:32:00.004-05:00

What a joy, what an adventure to sleep in a hospital room. Here in Chez Ortho, the guest accommodations are marginally hospitable.

My mom's room is large. It's spacious. It's like a room at a Comfort Inn. If you got your innards scooped out at a Comfort Inn.

We arrived on Monday night. I took it all in. There's a wee couch in the room under the wall of windows. Being swift thinking as I am, I immediately deduced my berth for the duration. I looked it over with my keen, mechanically inclined mind. I spied a handle like the sort on the side of a mattress, so I pulled on it.

What appeared looked like a bed, but it sits really high and causes a huge gap against the back, so I put it back together thinking surely I was missing something.

The nurse came in and after all the formalities had been handled, I asked about the bed. She reached over as if to grab the handle and then she stopped and said, '' You're better off leaving it this way. So being naive I accepted that. It certainly looked like she was right. Even the nurses after her agreed.

I can't recall having a worse night's sleep that didn't involve either a floor or a tent and a monsoon.

I'm saying it was bad. I tossed, turned and even flipped. I arranged and rearranged. I swapped out pillows.

Finally at 0445, all the action began. At 0515, my aunt arrived. I put some pretty on, but that didn't hide the huge, dark bags that were gathered under my eyes like luggage waiting outside a cruise ship door.

After listening to people all day long agree that the beds are awful, I promptly pulled on the handle and put all my faith in the person who designed it. It's pretty comfortable after all.

Notice the white-on-white decor. It's all the rage; all the hospitals are doing it.

Also? I'm wide awake. Life is so unfair puting me in my snazzy bed and then keeping me up all night.

Irish dinner recipes

2011-03-14T18:25:00.007-05:00

Since I won't be making anything for St. Patrick's Day this year, I thought I'd share some recipes with you.

Soda Bread Recipe

4 cups all purpose flour
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon sugar (you don't strictly need this)
2 cups buttermilk

Method:

Preheat the oven to 425 degrees. Lightly grease a baking sheet. Combine all the dry ingredients in a large bowl. I run a spoon or whisk through it to add some air because I ~~am too cheap~~ ~~am too lazy~~ don't have a sifter.

Add the buttermilk to form a sticky dough. You may need a little more milk, but I do fine with just two cups. Here's a tip: I often spray my hands with Pam before I scoop the dough out of the bowl. Place the dough on the sheet and shape into a round that's about as thick as your fist. With a sharp knife, cut a cross in the top of the dough.

Bake for about 30 minutes.

The bottom of the bread will have a hollow sound when tapped. If it isn't done, it won't sound hollow yet.

Cover the bread in a tea towel and lightly sprinkle water on the cloth to keep the bread moist. This is a daily bread, so you want to eat it the day you bake it.

Corned Beef in Guinness Recipe

This one is super easy. Take the corned beef out of the package. You can use the spices or don't use the spices. Put the corned beef in a crock pot with about 1/4 cup of brown sugar (you can use up to 1/2 cup). Pour (slowly) a can of Guinness over the beef and cook on high for 6 hours. If you use Guinness Extra Stout, you might want more brown sugar. Throw an onion in there if you like onion. You can do that anytime in the first four hours.

Cabbage Recipe

This is really easy, too. Chop up some cabbage. Heat Kerrygold Irish Butter in a skillet over medium heat. Don't let it get too hot or burn the butter. Throw the cabbage in the butter. Cover the skillet and stir every now and then. When the cabbage is cooked to your liking (test it for how crunchy you like or don't like it) and throw in some caraway seeds. Stir it up and serve.

Beannachtaí na Féile Pádraig oraibh.
St. Patrick's Day blessing upon you.
For a free lesson on St. Patrick's Day phrases in Irish Gaelic, visit Bitesize Irish Gaelic.

As long as habit and routine dictate the pattern of living, new dimensions of the soul will not emerge. Henry Van Dyke

2011-03-14T10:04:00.003-05:00

Routine is a strange thing. Some people love it, some people fear it. Children and pets and certain occupations need routine; supper time, many jobs and relationships can falter under its weight.

One of the things about traveling that sets me on edge is the change of routine, but I know I easily slip into new routines. I become nervous as a trip approaches, but once a journey begins I settle in pretty quickly.

I've settled into nothing so far. Here I sit at one o'clock in the afternoon at my computer. I've been working steadily for the office, but I'm still in my pajamas and robe. I need to go for a run, but my cousin is due for a visit and the dog needs a walk and I just finally ate some lunch.

I hate to eat and run.

The routine that I'm missing the most is a little surprising. I didn't realize how instinctively I put things out for recycling. There's no recycling here. I don't know about Dayton overall, but here in the neighborhood where my mom is and where my aunt lives, they don't recycle. Des Moines only recently began...maybe a year or two ago.

I didn't participate in the years before that because all the cereal boxes had to be flattened, the glass had to be washed and the papers stacked and bound just so. It sounded to me like a part-time job.

But now we all have big wheeled bins like our trash cans. All I have to do is throw things in the bin. Our bin at home is far likely to have more recycling than the trash bin has trash.

So here I sit throwing away plastic bottles and cardboard packages. I weep silently in the pantry each time.

No, I don't. I'm just pulling your leg. But I do keep wondering where to put it all before I realize I have to toss it.

I miss my bin!!

Now if only I can digest, change clothes, go for a run, shower, visit my cousin, walk the dog, run to UPS, work all afternoon, get supper, watch a show, drive to the hospital and tuck my mom into her hospital bed.

Sounds like a lot to do. I should get crack-a-lackin' here.

6-mile run before a 10-hour road trip

2011-03-12T21:42:00.008-06:00

Winter has done a number on me in terms of running. People hear about the indoor triathlon and think I stayed in great shape.

If only that were true. I stayed in shape if expanding is a shape.

There's this tiny little voice in the back of my head saying that if I'm still in Ohio the first weekend of April, I can do a low-key, local half marathon. As my sports med doctor once said to me, "Runners are stupid."

He meant it in a good way, I'm really sure.

You know three weeks isn't enough to train for a half. But I figured if I could run 6 miles, I might be able to run enough here in Ohio so that I could at least get 'er done.

It's not really a plan. It's also sort of stupid to run 6 miles with a cranky hamstring the day before an all-day road trip. Ouch.

When I run, I think about people and things. I rarely listen to music. I like listening to birds and neighborhood sounds like lawn mowers. I like to hear dogs behind creaky, leaning, 30-year-old fences.

I also think of stuff to blog about each run. I thought about blogging so much on Friday that I contemplated starting a whole other blog just so I could ~~whine~~ share my insight.

Mostly I wanted to blog about all my problems getting out the door in the cold weather.

In the summer last year, after I began training, I had a system in which all my gear was in a reusable bag from the grocery store. It sat in a chair in the dining room and I always had everything right there. That way I could get out the door quickly.

This year so far, the system hasn't worked so well. Cold weather demands more gear. I also can't find things like the electricity plug in for my Garmin watch or my Road ID shoe pocket.

It takes forever to get out the door.

One reason is because women's running clothes don't have pockets. I assume men's don't, either. If there is a pocket and that's a pretty big "if" although they do exist, the pocket is very small.

Too small for keys, too small for protective measures, too small for a cell phone.

I know many purists would say that you should run without all this stuff, but I think those people must run in protected environments, have an entourage or a coach to accompany them or they're men.

So I'm slow to get outside due to figuring out where to put what I have to take with me. I'll leave my cell phone behind if I have to, but then I couldn't call for help. I put my pepper spray in the waistband of my pants, which actually puts it right in a way that I can grab it quickly. I even practice grabbing it out of its pouch.

Then I get outside and it's too cold for the way I'm dressed and I go inside for a different jacket or it's sunny but windy and I need to go back inside for gloves. I wear a hat, but I get warm and need a pocket to put it in.

On days like Friday, I also think about how humbling it is to run around my neighborhood. I'm 45 with an extra 9 pounds, my face gets beet-red and I sometimes huff and puff.

If by sometimes, you mean all the time. I'm a noisy runner that way.

When I'm trained up or having a great run, my breathing falls into a steady, even pace. See? Humbling. I couldn't just leave it alone. I don't sound like I'm dying all the time. Just most of the time.

Lastly, last fall's hamstring problem hasn't gone away and that tripped me up on the run. Being in the car all day wasn't much fun, either.

Maybe it sounds like I should stop running, but that's not where I'm headed. I'm glad that after the winter I can still run six miles and although they were 12-minute miles with wee walking breaks for the hamstring, I know I can get back to 10-minutes.

But can I do it in three cold, March weeks? That remains to be seen.

A long day on the road

2011-03-12T21:18:00.005-06:00

There's nothing like a long road trip to put a little adventure into your life.

Since I wasn't driving, I got to read a lot of magazines today. I subscribe to Smithsonian Magazine, the magazine devoted to the interests of all the scanners in the world.

I'm a scanner.

Barbara Sher coined the word to describe people in her work as a life coach. Scanners are people who have a lot of interests either in sequence or in cycles through their lives. So since I'm one of those interested in lots of stuff, I like Smithsonian Magazine.

Not that you can't like it without being a scanner. Oh, boy. This post isn't about my personality.

Obvious, isn't it?

Back to the adventure. There really wasn't any adventure, simply a mishap. Just west of Peoria, my window rolled down, but wouldn't roll up! It sounded as if something was coming undone and I shrank away from the window thinking something might fly up and hit me, but nothing happened. It just wouldn't go up at all.

Using Google and OnStar, we called a dealership near Peoria, but the service department wasn't open. We called another dealership about 50 miles east and the guy there at Worden Martin Buick GM was so kind. He knew right away what was wrong, verified that he had the part and gave directions. Then he had a mechanic get right on it while we got a bite to eat and in no time at all it was finished and we were back on the road.

That was fun.

I had a hot pastrami sandwich at a dirty little place called Atlanta Bread Company. The sandwich made the dust and dirt OK. It wasn't filthy or nasty; it was just dirty.

Arriving near my mom's, I went to Arby's to get a little bite to eat. I had all sorts of restaurants to choose from, but I decided to splurge and went to Arby's so I could get a Jamocha shake. Yum!

Did I ever tell you about the time I went to the Arby's on 100th Street? They had just opened and there was very little on the street back then. I ordered a roast beef sandwich at the drive-thru speaker. There was a pause. The girl came on and said they were out of roast beef.

I laughed! She laughed! How funny. I moved on.

Tonight I ordered a small Jamocha shake. The shake machine was broken.

Oh, Arby's, you slay me.

I'll be in Ohio for some time. I hope to blog quite a bit. I'd like to do a little running and little sight-seeing. I'll take photos for you.

Eating well during my eat down

2011-03-08T06:58:00.011-06:00

"I have such good news for you today," she said sarcastically.

Although I went to bed at a decent hour, I awoke early from a bad dream. I think I should be more awake than I am, but I feel sleep creeping dangerously closer and concentrating on work is difficult.

And so it's the perfect!time!to!blog!

What I have done all day (Ahem. It isn't even noon yet) to help me focus and stay awake is eat. I've eaten breakfast and lunch already. I'm not really hungry.

It must be true what they say about not getting enough sleep leading to obesity. I keep thinking it will help me wake up.

It doesn't.

For breakfast I had pancakes because I am tradition-bound and today is Shrove Tuesday. For lunch I had leftover oven-baked chicken and big, thick egg noodles with sweet corn from last summer.

I've been eating really well for a few weeks now because I'm hosting an eat-down at my house.

"Host" is such a strong word. I haven't invited anyone over or cleaned the house.

I just decided to clean out my freezer, but usually an eat-down is when I stay out of the grocery store and eat as much of what is in the house as I can stand. This is often accompanied by a sort out of the pantry. If it's expired, I toss it and if it isn't but I am not doing anything with it, it goes to the food pantry. I try hard to keep from throwing food away. I also try not to buy too much, but sometimes the canned goods and the freezer get away from me.

So cleaning out the freezer, which you know, takes time, turned into an eat down. Here's the current state of the fridge:

I may have cheated a little and not shown you the entire thing because I haven't cleaned it.

I've been too busy thawing, cooking and sorting to clean anything.

I often don't have very much food in the house these days. I look in the refrigerator and it looks OK, but there are three jars of jam and a carton of sour cream I had forgotten about and so it goes. It looks like more than it really is. I always sort of figure if I have a couple eggs, I won't starve to death.

[edit] You see the blank space to the left where the Swiss cheese is lounging all the live-long day? That's where the eggs belong. I just realized I don't have eggs. Can't make corn pudding. Does it count if I borrow eggs from a relative?

Anyway, the sour cream turned out to be just fine. I love food that lasts forever.

A friend of mine accepted a challenge from a food web site to clean out freezers and she wondered if I would do it with her. As a matter of fact, I had decided to take some things out of the freezer that very same day. So I said yes and now I report to her every day or so what genius things I've created.

I removed some beef, a whole chicken and some sweet corn from last summer. I've used pork, a ribeye steak, meatballs, noodles and freshly squeezed-by-me lime juice. From the pantry, I've made the soup and will make corn pudding this week. I'm down to four cans of beets (who buys this stuff? not me), three cans of creamed corn and one can of sauerkraut.

The beef turned into soup, the chicken went into the oven and was devoured and the corn got eaten along the way. I put the beef into the crock pot. It was a roast of some sort, but really small. I added salsa and when I got home, I added a little more fresh homemade salsa, a can of red beans and a can of creamed corn. It was delicious. Some thinly cut shoulder steak went into the crock pot with teriyaki sauce. Later I added a can of cream of mushroom soup and some mushrooms. I had that over potatoes.

It sounded like a mixture that may go radioactive at the table, but the teriyaki sauce and cream of mushroom soup behaved remarkably well together.

The only thing that didn't turn out is a recipe for a green bean side dish. I substituted Vidalia onion salad dressing for milk and used one can instead of two cans of beans and some Cream of Whatever was involved and although I ate a little I threw the rest away.

That's our secret.

As you can see from the photo above, I have the cutest Crock Pot ever and I buy meat at Target. I wait like a vulture for the end of the day when the meat gets little stickers on them for $3 off and I [*[pounce]*] on it.

Then I throw it all in the freezer when I get home so it doesn't expire and kill me. Who loves herself?

Oh and hey? I bought a DOZEN packages of Wholly Guacamole for 50 cents each over the weekend. They also had to go directly into the freezer, but that stuff is so delicious that if you put a bowl out and leave the room, angels will visit and sing.

Try it. It's very good.

There are still homemade pork tenderloins to be served and currently sitting in the fridge looking foolish is a pound of ground beef. I haven't any idea what to do with it when it thaws. I'm trying to stay out of the store and am making do with what I have. The corn pudding needs milk, so I may relent and buy a quart because I'll be using up eggs and some bread that needs to go before I leave town on Saturday.

Oops. See previous [edit].

I need to use the pound of ground beef without purchasing anything. Meatloaf maybe?

I've also been sorting and organizing cupboards, closets, drawers and all other storage areas. I've been ruthless about throwing things into a pile for our church's garage sale this summer.

My house feels a thousand pounds lighter and I just love walking into my ~~dirty~~ newly organized home. Only, like I said, I'm leaving it for a couple weeks on Saturday.

A balanced diet is a cookie in each hand

2011-03-02T16:13:00.012-06:00

I just got the voting results from the company-wide first ever cookie bake-off.

I tied for first place with Crispy Oatmeal Cookies from Heidi! Yay!

Never able to make the decision between the two cookies and completely booked for last night so I couldn’t make more of just one batch, I brought both of Sunday’s batches in this morning.

I made Homemade Oreos (pain in the back) and Oreo Cookie Cookies (thank goodness I have a KitchenAid). The Homemade Oreos don’t look or taste like Oreos, so the name stinks. I love the Oreo Cookie Cookies, but they got cracky since Sunday.

They’re still really yummy, but when you first bite into them, they shatter and crumbs fly. But then…they get a little chewy and they’re wonderful. It’s a chocolate chip cookie with crushed Oreos throughout.

Scrumptious!

Anyway, I couldn’t decide which to enter and that doesn’t bode well for my future as a contest cookie baker because I think the choice was actually pretty clear.

Surprise development: The HO (PITB) cookies improved upon storage.

The day I baked them, they were awful. They tasted like a Little Debbie snack cake only… if you like Little Debbie snack cakes, you would like those better than these cookies. On the day. Day-of-cookies, not so much.

Still happy with the Oreo Cookie Cookies, I got home from work on Monday and I ate a HO (PITB) to see if I could make the decision and I was surprised that they tasted so different. The chocolate cookie wafer I had so painstakingly patted into existence hunched over the counter for hours with wet fingertips had taken on a little sparkly ‘snap’ without exploding into a million pieces. It was snappy and soft at the same time. The filling, which at first tasted like ~~crap~~ cheap Little Debbie knock-offs from the Dollar Store had become subtle and tasty.

I knew enough to know I had a decision to make. I also knew enough to know I needed someone to make the decision for me.

I was too close to the action.

I had fallen in love with my cookies. The toil! The labor! The struggle!

Tuesday night, co-worker and competitor John had written on Facebook that his cookies weren’t turning out. I formulated my plan.

This morning, dragging all the cookies into the office, I saw John. He was right near the entrance, which was good because I was in no mood to have to hunt him down. I said, “To my office!” even though I saw he was leaving for a client location.

In my office, I forced him to eat one of each cookie.

He said there wasn’t much of a choice – it was the sandwich cookie all the way and since I had already made up my mind that he was going to make the decision, that’s the one I put out.

He voted for my HO (PITB) cookies, too. Well, sure. He had some stock invested now.

After the contest, he sent me an email that said, "You're welcome. Just saying, you needed that vote." Then he followed it up saying 'Sabotage!'

Co-workers. Bah.

For the most part and in the midst of cookie fever, I didn’t do much of anything all day here at work. Why is that? I hear you asking.

I’ll tell you why.

Because Heidi, my tied cookie baking co-worker, was hovering and harassing people at the cookie display table, which was right outside my office door. I would pop up and tell her Stop canvassing at the polling station! Stop buying votes! Don’t stuff the ballot box!

When the vote count was in, I was called into someone’s office with Heidi. An account manager asked why we were being told before others and I said to him as I made my way that most likely it was a tie and they wanted to see the fight break out.

It was a tie. We high-fived, disappointing everyone in the office about the fight.

Word travels fast, you know.

On a similar note, did I ever tell you that in a random sort of conversation one day my boss said that in a fight between me and Heidi he was pretty sure Heidi would win?

I think he's right on that one, so I high-fived her and in my typically gracious manner, full of sportsmanlike conduct and all of the good cheer and happy manners I possess, I said,

“Thank goodness you didn’t win first place alone. You’d be unbearable the rest of the week.”

It was awesome! We joked around and smiled. Then we realized the glory had passed rather quickly. There was no prize, no ribbon, no accolades, no trip to Disney World, no cheering crowd, no speech from the Queen of England and no phone call from the President, so we went back to our offices and back to work.

Whatever.

Also, in yesterday’s breaking news, I won the local library’s Love Your Library contest and guess what I won?

A dozen cookies.

Nature Notes: Bald Eagles

2011-03-01T15:26:00.008-06:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

Saturday morning, I went for a walk at Red Rock Dam over near Pella and I let some eagles look at me. They were beautiful soaring overhead and ignoring me. At the end of the morning, we were all walking along (4 adults, a 3-year-old and a dog) when we spotted two eagles in a tree along the path. I went ahead alone and they stayed put. They were just up in the tree above my head.

Looking at me.

Like I was dinner.

They're strong, you know. Don't laugh.

I had just read a headline about starving eagles dropping from the sky in Canada. That stuff makes me sad. They should come to Iowa.

Their nests are huge. This is a zoomed shot, but it is on the other side of the river. You can spot their nests from quite a distance.

For information that is actually interesting and educational, check out the National Geographic website here.

It says, in part: The bald eagle, with its snowy-feathered (not bald) head and white tail, is the proud national bird symbol of the United States—yet the bird was nearly wiped out there. For many decades, bald eagles were hunted for sport and for the "protection" of fishing grounds. Pesticides like DDT also wreaked havoc on eagles and other birds. These chemicals collect in fish, which make up most of the eagle's diet. They weaken the bird's eggshells and severely limited their ability to reproduce. Since DDT use was heavily restricted in 1972, eagle numbers have rebounded significantly and have been aided by reintroduction programs. The result is a wildlife success story—the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service has upgraded the birds from endangered to threatened.

Stupid is as Stupid does

2011-02-28T13:04:00.003-06:00

I didn’t tell you all about something that happened to me over the Christmas shopping season. I was in JCPenney stupidly spending money I didn’t have to spend when I wandered into their newly remodeled costume jewelry section.

I saw some rings and since I’ve been thinking about inexpensive rings for my middle finger for the last five years, I decided to see what they have. I tried on a ring that had some sort of idealistic, “we-are-the-universe” saying about hope and faith. I’m a fan of faith and patience, but they don’t market the patience part much. Or at all.

Anyway, I liked the ring and whatever it said didn’t make me laugh derisively at the universe.

Well to heck with the universe and its dumb self! It got back as me as, you know, the universe likes to do. Stupid universe likes the last laugh, isn’t that true? The ring was on a 2x3” piece of cardboard and securely attached with a thick plastic zip tie. I slipped the ring on my finger to see what I thought of it.

The ring wouldn’t come off.

I could tell it wasn’t too tight, but it was the saucer-sized cardboard keeping the ring from wriggling back and forth to get it off my finger. What a gloriously stupid way to display a stupid ring! Of course, it became a million times more stupid when it stuck on my finger like it had been hit by a spell from Harry Potter, Endora and Merlin.

You get what I’m saying? It had magically attached itself to me.

I worked it back and forth knowing all along that it wasn’t coming off and that I was making my finger swell.

Stupid, stupid ring and stupid packaging! I knew what I needed was to have the plastic zip tie cut off. I stood at the real jewelry counter with the $10 ring stuck on my hand. The guy behind the counter ignored me while he chatted with a customer about a watch battery.

Mind you, he wasn’t replacing the battery. Most places won’t do that anymore because Americans are such a litigious lot. I was ready to sue them for mental distress, myself. I moved closer. He wouldn’t even look up to acknowledge me. Stupid jerk.

I’m standing there with a dinner plate on my hand and he doesn’t notice. I’m a shoplifting arrest waiting to happen. I’m a frantic, panicked customer about to pass out.

Mr. Working on Commission doesn’t care about me and my $10 universe ring.

By this time I figure the security people have me in their sights and my finger is now angry and refusing to let the ring wiggle back and forth at all. I have visions of living forever in JCPenney’s jewelry department. The briefest idea flashes of buying the ring and taking it home on my cardboard-enhanced middle finger.

How ironic.

But by now, I HATE this ring with its stupid unrealistic, hippie freak-show saying and I’m done with it forever. I will never waste $10 on Stupid Ring! It mocked me with its hope and faith. I had hope and faith I wasn’t going to get arrested for shoplifting if they’d let me explain, but that was all the hope and faith I could muster just then.

I took myself down the escalator with this enormous meat platter stuck to my hand.

I stood in line at the customer service desk trying to will myself to keep my pale, Irish-heritage-living-in-the-snowy-Upper-Midwest complexion from blushing. The lady behind the counter was so kind.

I’m sure she laughed her head off in the lunchroom later on, but she was very kind. Unfortunately, she did not divine the problem without considerable help from me. She was incapable or unwilling to perceive intuitively or through some inexplicable perceptive powers my current helpless situation.

Probably unwilling.

Here’s how it went down:

“Hi, I was trying on a ring and it became stuck on my finger.”

“Oh, let’s see.” How could she not see? “Did you try to work it off?”

How much did I want to smack her?

She came up with a couple ideas and since I was using all the existing philosophical abilities I have in my body, which are minimal at best, I stayed calm, cool and collected. All York Peppermint Patty was I. Get the sensation.

I let her be a part of the solution as long as I could handle it. Then I said as nicely as I could manage and keeping the alarm out of my voice, “I think if you took some scissors and snipped the plastic zip tie, I could go into the bathroom and use cold water and soap to get it off.”

At this point, I’m fully prepared to buy the ring as penance.

Plus, as the ring’s owner, I would be well within my rights as a consumer to throw the blasted thing down the public toilet and flush.

“Oh,” she said. “That just might work. Let me find some scissors.”

Thanking God, literally, that there is still no one standing in line behind me, she ends the search for the only pair of scissors in the entire store and she snips the plastic zip tie.

Will you believe it? The ring slid off my finger without so much as a stutter or a catch.

I slid it toward her on the counter, apologizing for ruining the packaging. I said I thought I’d had enough of the ring and didn’t want to buy it. She was as nice as pie about it.

Lesson: Be nice to people who do stupid things.

Have a good day.

Update to Monday, Monday

2011-02-27T18:26:00.002-06:00

For some reason I will never understand, the powers that be scheduled the at-work cookie bake-off on WEDNESDAY. There is no way I would have done what I just did on a Tuesday night. You won't know until Wednesday evening, or after the voting Wednesday afternoon.

Right now I'm devouring a roasted chicken from a freezer clean-out I did. That and garlic potatoes. Please stand back for your safety.

Sunday, Sunday Can't Trust That Day

2011-02-27T17:59:00.004-06:00

OK, so according to the Mamas and the Papas, it's really Monday you can't trust. I think it's just too ironic for things to go wrong on Mondays so I usually refer to Tuesday as the day you get hit from the side. Naturally, it doesn't always work out that way, but you get my drift.

I have spent a ridiculous amount of time in the kitchen today. My back is killing me from so much time on my feet hunched over the counter doing delicate maneuvers on not-so-delicate cookies.

I've been watching Golden Girls all day because I've really been too busy to concentrate on the television. This means I've seen the exact same set of commercials hour after hour after hour. It leads me to this revelation: The best advice I ever got from a doctor.

She said that lactose intolerance can be cured by drinking milk.

Somehow, I developed some intolerance to lactose years ago. That's a mystery to me since I'm a dairy loving fool. So I started to drink milk in little amounts when I was home to deal with the misery and can you believe it? She was right.

I was baking cookies all day. I won't tell you for sure what I finally decided to bake because my co-workers know about this blog. I don't know that they read it more than once a year, but they know about it.

Yesterday I spent the morning in Pella looking at eagles and letting them look at me. To stay warm, I ran in the snow. This led to a three-hour nap later in the day.

Then I saw two eagles in a tree right on the path. I had already trudged, alone, down the riverside to see some eagles, but they were really high up in the trees. One of them got all offended by my presence and took off. Then I trudged through more snow down a path and watched 5 or 6 eagles soar over me.

Back to the path. There they were, sitting there looking like eagles do. They have that look on their face that says they sort of hate you and they need to pretend you aren't really there. I have a photo that should knock your socks off, but you'll have to wait for Thursday's Nature Notes to see it.

That's been my weekend.

If you get hungry for cookies, wander on over. I've got a whole bunch. We can dip them in tolerant milk and watch Golden Girls.

Nature Notes: A rare sighting

2011-02-23T06:38:00.006-06:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

I have a book about Pickles The Fire Cat in which Pickles goes up a fire truck ladder and then climbs high to rescue a kitten. I love this book! It also reminds me of something I saw once (a joke, maybe) about how you never see kitten skeletons in trees. But what if you did call the fire department to rescue a cat stuck in a tree? Would they come? What would they charge you? How hard would they laugh while they run the ladder up the tree?

Clearly I do not have enough life experiences.

I have a one-mile running route in my neighborhood and I wanted you all to know that we have a rare sort of tree here sans kittens. I'm sure some of you have seen the same type of tree. It never fails to make me smile.

Can you identify the tree below? The morning was full of glare and clouds and once again I became the neighborhood stalker taking photos in the early morning. I hope you can see well enough...

All I can think of is the kite-eating tree from Charlie Brown, but this is a basketball & football hybrid. No kites. These three balls have been in the tree at least since last summer, but without leaves they really stand out.

After the exhaustion lifts, I write another post

2011-02-22T16:45:00.007-06:00

Wow, I have reread yesterday’s post and it seems I had a hard time writing coherently! I can tell I was tired from the way the post read, the fact that I didn’t title it, the nap I took over my lunch break and the ten hours I slept last night.

I’ll try to do better today.

At work on March 1 there’s a cookie bake-off. Over the weekend I made chocolate chip cookies with bacon! as a bonus, but the bacon fades into the chocolate and was a big disappointment. The bacon only lends a chewy quality to the cookie, so you know something is different, but you can't identify it. I brought them to work this morning and although they were eaten, they received a big ‘meh’ from the people who ate them.

It went like this:
"Chocolate chip cookies! Yay!"
"What's the secret ingredient?"
"Really? Bacon? Hunh."

Dang it.

I have a recipe for Oreo cookie cookies and another recipe for homemade Oreos. I think I will make one batch of each and test them among friends and family. Then whichever gets the highest praise is the one I will submit. So far, without a taste test, I have one strong vote for homemade Oreos.

I also signed up to provide cookies for church one Sunday in March. I don’t have a shamrock cookie cutter, but I thought green shamrock sugar cookies would be ~~too much work~~ a fun little treat for March.

Note to self: buy a shamrock cookie cutter somewhere. This requires looking out for one. Much like winning the lottery, you must take action to achieve the end result.

As I look back over the last four months, I have to admit to myself that I’m tired. I’ve been going full-speed since October. I think it’s time for something slow and relaxing, but I’m not sure what that would be.

Besides cookie baking. Obviously.

I suppose really it’s all about carving out time to do some things, like organize life. I have started that: over the weekend I organized my laundry room, nightstand and jewelry box. Today I promised myself that over lunch I would organize my files for the Irish language study group I lead, but as I have three new students I have been working feverishly on a proper lesson for this evening. Let's hope I don't have to go through the crazy professor routine yet again of looking for something I can't find.

I did that last time, flipping through page after page of unfiled/previously filed paperwork and lessons, hair getting wiry from stress, my eyes wild and bugging out. It's pretty. No wonder people come back for more.

I’m the sort of person who feels better when I’m organized. Something else I’d like to do is get outside and start running. Even a mile at a time would be nice, but after sleeping off the triathlon and still feeling a bit worn down, I realize that can wait until this coming weekend. It’s just difficult to bypass decent weather this time of year!

I read part of a book in December that suggested we ask ourselves, “What is best for me?” When done properly, it brings good results, not always selfish results because sometimes what is really best for ourselves is doing something for other people.

Maybe that’s my new filter. At least for awhile.

2011-02-21T11:47:00.006-06:00

I am in a fit of shoulder pain right now, but do you see how I sacrifice so I can blog for you?

Because I blog regularly, as you’ve noticed. I don’t want to let you down or anything.

The indoor triathlon was Saturday. Thus, the shoulder pain. I may have completely shattered all my expectations for the 500-meter swim on Saturday. I hadn’t done better than 21 minutes, but on Saturday I swam with everything I had to give and finished the 500 meters in 12 minutes, 14 seconds.

I couldn’t believe myself. My awesomeness was overwhelming.

I felt fine, too. You see, my shoulder started hurting about two weeks ago. I’ve been lifting weights a little bit in anticipation of the swim and because upper body strength is full of the fantastic, plus it helps with running.

I can’t lose with upper body strength!

Except that today I can barely keep myself in my seat here at work. I only got on my computer a few times over the weekend, too.

Painful.

I have taken four Motrin and those little puppies better start getting to work before my arm falls off. Shoot, I had some sort of heinous shot last fall, like typhoid or diphtheria or Chinese Fallapart and everyone said, “Oh, watch out! That arm will hurt tomorrow.”

But it didn’t. Maybe this is a delayed reaction.

So there was one other woman in my age bracket for the triathlon and I smoked her. It was awesome because without her, my first-place status would be seriously in question. I congratulated her and hugged her and was really proud of her because I kept my eye on her the entire time, believe you me, and she pushed herself hard.

She worked just as hard as I did, I just happened to be faster. Or maybe I had more practice.

I’ll be honest with you; I’m not really used to winning. I’m fortunate that I feel a strong sense of accomplishment when I finish these events. I’m proud that no one had to dredge the bottom of the pool for my body on Saturday. I’m carrying an extra 9 pounds or so, and I’m not being modest when I say I’m not as in shape as I should be although obviously I’m no couch potato.

But winning was an interesting experience for me. I felt a little sheepish. My little triathlon was full of people like me: we wanted to do well and finish and there just happened to be winners. I don’t think anyone was a superior athlete and I just fell in love with the whole little group of us hanging out while the trophies were being handed out.

Nature Notes - Drive Safely!

2011-02-03T09:00:00.002-06:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

Winter Morning Poem
by Ogden Nash
Winter is the king of showmen
Turning tree stumps into snow men
And houses into birthday cakes
And spreading sugar over lakes
Smooth and clean and frosty white
The world looks good enough to bite
That's the season to be young
Catching snowflakes on your tongue
Snow is snowy when it's snowing
I'm sorry it's slushy when it's going

Put down that snack and exercise 70s style

2011-02-02T11:04:00.016-06:00

Since most of the country is snowbound, let's take a look at how you could spend your day if it were 1970 and you had ordered your exercise equipment out of the Fall catalog.

You could hunch over and take a run on a treadmill that is not as long as your stride. I think this might cause you to hop your way to fitness. Or you could sit in a dry sauna that looks like a sci-fi alien probing machine. Or you could cross-country ski in your basement with the Nordic Track prototype below:

Perhaps you would like to ride a bike through Tuscany. Hopefully you have a good imagination for the Tuscany part, but Sears had the bikes. In the way far future, will athletes look at these models and wonder when biomechanics was born?

Official text from a publication in 2918: "As late as 1970, bicycles were too short for people. Their legs never extended properly. Was this from poor biomechanics? Was it inexperienced cyclists? Did humans grow by massive leaps and bounds in 1970 before the bicycle industry could tackle the problem? In the same century, school desks in Japan were too small for the gargantuan children being born, perhaps these exercycles were left over from an earlier era when beds are known to be much smaller than only 50 years later..."

I'm confused by one thing on this page below. The bike on the left simulates cycling and rowing, but the image in between is riding a horse. Any ideas out there? Let's just leave that one for now and move forward with color.

It's really a shame that only a small number of pages in the 1970 catalog used color. Get your crayons and follow along: The bike with the lady on it has a sunshine yellow frame and a vinyl wood-look panel on either side. The synchronized-action exerciser has an avocado frame. I hope your crayon box has avocado. I imagine in 1970 Crayola had the shade. Everybody else did.

Um. I never quite understood these. When I was a kid, I thought these were a joke for sitcoms and cartoons. Obviously not, but I'm still not sure about the purpose of jiggling. At any rate, pull of your shoes and wiggle your toes in the plush moss green carpeting. Seriously, yes. The copy does mention wiggling your toes while you jiggle. Is this for entertainment or exercise? Only you can decide.
Why spend $4.77 on the Daisy Decor Twister shown below? I have a free idea:

Well they've got a new dance and it goes like this/Yeah the name of the dance is Peppermint Twist/Well you like it like this, the Peppermint Twist/It goes round and round, up and down/Round and round, up and down/Round and round and a up and down/And a one two three kick, one two three jump

So enjoy your day off at home with the kiddos, remember to stetch safely and don't hurt yourselves. If you fall off that Sears horse, get back on and ride to Tuscany.

The death of me

2011-02-01T21:32:00.001-06:00

Twinkies will be the death of me.

Mostly because they're Twinkies. Obviously. Not a member of a respected food group. Unless you count preservatives as a food group.

Some people do, ya know.

When I was a kid my mom would hide our lunchbox treats so my brothers wouldn't eat them all. She would often put treats in the freezer, too. I think she hoped it would slow us down, but it just taught me to eat frozen Twinkies and Christmas cookies.

When I was a teenager, I lived in Germany. If any of my high school friends ever read this blog, they could correct me if I a wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm right when I say we didn't have access to Twinkies. So for three years I didn't taste a Twinkie.

When we landed stateside, one of the first things I did was eat a Twinkie.

And I gagged. It was awful. It was sickeningly sweet. It tasted fake on my tongue. I was convinced Hostess had ruined my childhood love of Twinkies! I swore them off after that. In the past 27 years, I'm sure I could count the Twinkies I've had on one hand.

But then I read the book Eat This, Not That for Kids and they said of all the treats, they'd choose Twinkies. Saturday night, we had company for the kids and so as a treat I bought the Devil's Treat.

I did exhaustive research reading all the Hostess and Little Debbie boxes and the Twinkies were not so bad after all. So I bought 'em.

Isn't this a riveting tale?

I know I can freeze them and I intended to. But...um...there's only 2 or 3 left in the box and now I'm obsessed thinking about how eating them would remove them from the house once and for all.

I've backed off on sugary treats since the week after Christmas and I've done well so far. And I actually told myself they wouldn't interest me because I am full of will power, good intentions and like I said, they're sort of gross.

If by gross, you mean tasty. In a gross way.

For all my good intentions, I'm sure the road to hell is paved with Twinkies.

Blizzard

2011-02-01T21:10:00.001-06:00

This morning we caught Question Mark Kitty in the shelter house. He ran off while we provided food and another towel, but he stood and watched. Tonight he was gone. I hope he's warm.

All this weather we're having makes it feel like we all live in the same neighborhood.

More deception on the grandkids front. First Christmas milk and now candied plums. That's right, candied plums.

Otherwise known as prunes. She loves them, he wasn't falling for it.

Every winter I feel as though life slows down to a crawl, but this month I have been busy. I realized a few things tonight like how I miss you guys.

I read your blogs on my phone and think I will go back later on the computer and comment, but I don't.

I also remembered that I can email a post to blogger from my phone! Maybe that will help. It's what I'm doing now.

Does this weather make anyone else think of the books The Long Winter or Little Town on the Prairie by Laura Ingalls Wilder? That's what today has put in my head. I may dig those out tomorrow and read my head off.

Nature Notes Freezing Fog

2011-01-26T16:26:00.003-06:00

Visit Michelle at the home of Nature Notes.

We've had some fog and mist this month and I captured these pictures on the leaves of the rose bush in the front of the house. I think it was freezing fog, which the website The Weather Prediction describes like this:

Fog tends to not produce measurable precipitation by itself but it can still wet and moisten objects. In the case of freezing fog, the fog cloud droplets are supercooled. When a droplet contacts an object below freezing it will turn to ice. When only freezing fog occurs, there will be just about as much freezing of the fog droplets onto surfaces as there will be sublimation from the surface, thus there is not much accumulation of ice.

At Nature Notes, Michelle mentioned this week that animals need shelter more than food. We've had a feral cat shelter in our backyard for years. It's been used in the past and is being visited this winter for sure because we've seen Question Mark kitty's footprints in and out. It has been out behind the pine trees in the backyard, but this winter it is under the deck protected from the north wind by the shed. It sits near the dryer vent from the laundry room.

For instructions and photos, go to Neighborhood Cats.

Buttons and Bows

2011-01-20T11:38:00.004-06:00

I am currently in my winter denial phase, which inevitably leads to putting my DVR to use by taping reruns of shows I've watched a million times. This happens every winter and miraculously, some time in April, I stop and get a life.

This winter, I'm rewatching every episode of Frasier I can get my hands on. It's a show that makes me laugh out loud like no other show. I have two favorite episodes - the one about leap year and one when Niles and Daphne figure out they are in love.

This morning's episode was the leap year episode from 1996, "Look Before You Leap" and I remember the first time I saw it. I was laying in bed watching the show and when this scene came along, I swear I almost fell out of bed! This morning I watched it while I was on my bike and I laughed so hard, I had tears in my eyes. You may need to have a few things in order to find this as funny as I think it is:

1. A love for the humor of the show.
2. This entire episode because it sort of sets you up for The Funny Ending.
3. Three and a half minutes. The clip is almost five minutes long, but you can stop watching after 3:39 if you want.
4. You'll need to listen to the lyrics of the song. I particularly like "let's all go to a taco show!"

Nature Notes Salsa!

2011-01-19T18:57:00.004-06:00

Visit Michelle at the easy-to-use Nature Notes to learn something new!

Winter has really set in around here and it has me craving fresh things. I miss the fresh fruits and vegetables of spring and summer. I think that's why I like soup so much all winter. Last week I came across a blog that posted a recipe from Pioneer Woman for salsa. I made it without the jalapeno because I thought it was pretty fresh tasting rather than just spicy-hot.

Without further ado, here is Pioneer Woman's salsa. Buy some corn tortillas, cut 'em up and make your own homemade corn chips. It's really delicious!

Ingredients
■1 can (28 Ounce) Whole Tomatoes With Juice
■2 cans (10 Ounce) Rotel (diced Tomatoes And Green Chilies)
■¼ cups Chopped Onion
■1 clove Garlic, Minced
■1 whole Jalapeno, Quartered And Sliced Thin
■¼ teaspoons Sugar
■¼ teaspoons Salt
■¼ teaspoons Ground Cumin
■½ cups Cilantro (more To Taste!)
■½ whole Lime Juice
Preparation Instructions
Combine whole tomatoes, Rotel, onion, jalapeno, garlic, sugar, salt, cumin, lime juice, and cilantro in a blender or food processor. Pulse until you get the salsa to the consistency you’d like—I do about 10 to 15 pulses. Test seasonings with a tortilla chip and adjust as needed.

Refrigerate salsa for at least an hour. Serve with tortilla chips or cheese nachos.

Regis Philbin retires

2011-01-18T12:49:00.005-06:00

Dear Regis Philbin,

No one blames you for retiring. It's not the same thing as quitting. And although I don't watch the show regularly, I have formed an opinion over the years about your replacement.

The best new host for Kelly is her husband Mark. I like Neil Patrick Harris more than Mark, but together, Mark and Kelly do wonderful things.

P.S. Could you please do something else with her hair? For years it has looked the same and I have never once liked it.
*****
See folks, when Kelly has a guest, she changes a little bit. There was that one fellow from American Idol. He used to guest host quite a bit when Regis was doing the Millionaire thing. Then one day, and I was watching that day so this is my observation and not something I read elsewhere, this fellow (I can't think of his name) shushed Kelly!

The look on her face was sort of funny, but the look on his face seemed to me like he realized what he had just done.

I didn't do extensive research or track the results or anything, but I don't think he ever showed up as a guest or a guest host ever.again.

See, Kelly needs Mark because if he shushes her it's just plain funny. They're funny together. And even funnier would be if they called it the "Regis Show with Kelly and Mark."

NYC snow, triathlon training and birds

2011-01-18T12:47:00.005-06:00

I have been pestered about not blogging, but the thing is I have no idea what to say. My writer’s block is as big as Brooklyn in a snow storm.

OK, first a shout out to folks in the Northeast: when the DOT or Sheriff’s office tells you they need you to stay off the roads, they really need you to stay off the roads. Plows can’t get through when you abandon your car in the middle of the street. It’s amazing how people expect instant results during ongoing snow and grouse because they can’t get to the corner for a pack o’cigs.

I've wanted to get that off my chest for weeks.

I’m training for an indoor triathlon and I keep thinking I’m doing something wrong. I knew I couldn’t swim 500 meters, so one Sunday I went to the pool to see if I could swim the back crawl for 500 meters without drowning.

It seems I can.

So now I know I can swim 500 meters on my back, but I did it in about 20 minutes. Now I keep redoing the math and thinking I’ve done something wrong and although I think it is 20 laps, when I get to the event they will say I have to do 50.

It’s like that final exam dream I started getting a year after college graduation.

After I swim, I bike. I dry off, get in the car and drive a few blocks to the sports club where I bike 10 miles on a stationary bike. Last Friday, for a trial run, I went to the YMCA as a guest and I got on a bike. I did that in 41 minutes. Then two days later I tried again and it took longer and it took more out of me, but I was tired when I started.

Lesson 1: get enough rest.

I’ll be training on my own bike hooked to a trainer at home in the family room.

After I bike, I run. So when I went to the Y, I swam half distance, biked all and ran half distance on the treadmill. The run went fine at 1.55 miles. That was fine. I get really red-faced when I run and when I sat down with my mother-in-law, she probably thought I was about to keel over.

I didn’t keel over, but I did have gas way up under my rib cage. At the end of the work day, my stomach was growling. Before I left for the gym, I ate a yogurt.

Lesson 2: don’t eat yogurt and then go for a run. It’s my best advice right now.

To begin my day as a guest at the YMCA, I got into the pool. I used to belong to this Y and it’s pretty upscale: I like it a lot. However, I never got into the pool because it is only 5 lanes wide, 25 yards long and it is always full of swimmers. But the triathlon begins with the swim, so I figured I may as well do it in order and then finish the rest of it with wet hair.

I get to the pool and sure enough, it’s full of swimmers. Swimmers who can, apparently, really swim. I bravely wade into the pool and ask a man if I can share his lane. He said OK as long as I took the wall. That was fine with me because obviously…in case of drowning it would be helpful to be close to the wall and the lifeguard.

Here’s the raw deal I got, though. In this pool I already find unfriendly, I start to swim on my back in a lane I am sharing with a swimmer. A MALE swimmer. Ladies, am I right? You get what I’m saying?

And the beams in the ceiling are perpendicular to the pool. At my regular pool, the beams are parallel to the lanes so I can swim a straight line on my back by keeping my eye to the sky. At the Y they probably didn’t think any untalented swimming fool would be ridiculous enough to actually get in the pool to begin with. So here I am trying to swim on my back and I am either in the middle of the lane or I am running into the wall.

Go ahead. Picture it and laugh. I’ll wait. [taps foot]

In order to keep from being thrown out of the pool and aware of what I am certain is a smirk on the lifeguard’s face, I swim most of the 12 laps doing the crawl. My shoulders ached for two days. I intended to do 12 laps and so I did them and I felt good about that. I never did get into the guy’s way, either. I made sure I thrashed my way down the pool at opposite ends to him, but he lapped me again and again. On a positive note, that meant I had plenty of time to catch my breath.

Since I trained for last fall’s half marathon without losing an ounce of weight, I decided to watch my nutrition and write everything down for the triathlon. When I count my calories, I make better choices since there is only so much room in the day for what to eat. It seems radical to some people, but I write everything down. I measure everything, too. I just had one tablespoon of peanuts. I made a smoothie this morning with ½ cup of pumpkin and so on. I have a twee kitchen scale that does the trick and a million measuring spoons of every size you can imagine down to a pinch.

I filled up all the bird feeders on Sunday afternoon. It was nice to be bundled up and outside. They still aren’t digging on the black oil sunflower seeds or the suet. So since even my cardinals enjoy the bird seed mixture, I will stick to that and mix it into the BOSS I have left. I’ve seen a lot of cardinals this winter. Very pretty.

OH gosh, I forgot to tell you about the mystery guest at Christmas. There’s an upcoming post! I have to go back to the gym now before my guest membership runs out.

Christmas milk for all!

2010-12-23T09:46:00.003-06:00

So here it is the day before Christmas Eve and no one is at their computers reading my blog. What happens next? I have the time to blog and so you see that we are not on the same wavelength that way.

We are having a surprise mystery guest at our house for Christmas this year and I am going to reveal everything to you after she arrives. We’ve made a little room just for her and have bought her special, favorite food.

Last weekend when the grandkids spent the night, I introduced them to Christmas Milk! [whispering] It's eggnog. Shhhhhh

I thought they might really like it, but I wouldn’t even try eggnog until I was in my 30s because obviously it is NOG made from EGGS that you want me to DRINK.

How utterly disgusting.

So I asked them if they knew about the special milk the dairy makes only at Christmas and Easter. I had the quart in my hand when I asked and you know how once in a great while you say just the right words and it’s really amazing that you didn’t screw it all up?

That’s what happened. They swarmed me. They got off their chairs and walked away from their supper and actually came over to me like I was the Pied Piper.

I said that it is very rich, which is the way grown-ups describe something that will give you a tummy-ache if you have too much. I asked if they’d like to try it and they nodded like little birds.

It was so much fun!

I poured them each a small amount, maybe an ounce. They took it and inhaled. Oren shouted that it tastes just like melted vanilla ice cream because Oren shouts when he is excited! Kena shouted because she always shouts and has no volume control that it tastes like pudding and can she please drink more!

I gave them each a little more and then more again the next day. I’ve bought another quart for Christmas Day and so help me the first person who calls it eggnog dies in a bloody battle.

Make some toast and raise your glass to Christmas Milk.

Nature Notes - Afternoon nap

2010-12-22T21:33:00.004-06:00

Visit Michelle at the interesting Nature Notes Thursday to see the world around you.

Outside my office window, I see hawks and vultures, squirrels and raccoons and of course, deer. One warm afternoon this week, when the weak sun was shining for all it's worth, I looked outside and saw four deer. Three were resting.
There are all four deer in the photo below. Can you find them?

Sometimes, no matter who is looking, if you itch, you need to scratch.
In the photo below, you can see detail in her face. My camera doesn't shoot well with the zoom this far out, but I think this time it did a good job.

Is it time yet?

2010-12-22T09:31:00.002-06:00

Whereas the holidays sometimes aren't as chipper and perky as they're "supposed" to do, the closer Christmas gets this year, the better I feel. That's really saying something as I was feeling a little down just last week. I think too much and I let things get in the way. But I have so much to be happy about and thankful for!

This song sums it up and I can't hear it enough this year. Hope it makes you smile.

Go ahead, give it a spin. The words are really fun!

Actuarial nightmare, indeed

2010-12-19T21:51:00.003-06:00

I was storing the gingerbread house in the oven, right? Didn't want the cats licking it to death before Christmas, right? Perfectly acceptable. I wrote a note that said "Gingerbread house in the oven."

The note was stuck in the little slot where the buttons are for turning the oven on. Handy system. No one turns the oven on to preheat without first removing the house.

Until someone puts the note in the oven with the gingerbread house.

The white plastic base melted flat. LOOK at the chimney now!! I am an arteest, no? I aim for realism in my work. I had made the flames shooting from the chimney, now you see the result.

The candy cane melted down to the fallen, drunken gingerbread man. He is now pinned down to the ground and won't be getting up anytime in the next century.

Trying to make the best of the roofline, I used a broken candy cane for decoration. Just more ice dams. I told you they would ruin the roof.

Somebody's gonna pay.

Nature Notes

2010-12-08T22:28:00.002-06:00

Visit Michelle at the uplifting Nature Notes Thursday to learn something new!

There was frost on everything this morning and I thought this was pretty. I took it on my cell phone and that didn't do it justice, naturally.

Nature (an excerpt)
Henry David Thoreau

Nature is full of genius, full of the divinity, so that not a snowflake escapes its fashioning hand. Nothing is cheap and coarse, neither dewdrops nor snowflakes...What a world we live in, where myriads of these little disks, so beautiful to the most prying eyes, are whirled down on every traveler's coat, the observant and the unobservant, on the restless squirrel's fur, on the far-stretching fields and forests, the wooded dells and the mountain tops.

Gingerbread House at Salisbury House

2010-12-08T22:07:00.004-06:00

I went to a wonderful mansion here in town called Salisbury House. It was featured once on the old A&E television show America's Castles. It's a really amazing building with 17 bedrooms, a gym, a bowling alley and all sorts of neat features from early 20th century. Tonight I went with Julie to the gingerbread house workshop.

See the glasses of red wine? It was creativity juice.

By the way, could I look more like my grandmother?

In this photo, we are clearly just getting underway. I'm really pleased with mine and was satisfied the entire time. I had made a gingerbread house my senior year in high school and I knew that it was going to be cute no matter what I did. Same with Julie's. It's candy! What's not to love?

Oh and they offered wine and extra royal frosting and yummy appetizers and treats. I may have overindulged. There was an artichoke dip and eclairs. How could I not indulge?

Here is my finished house. The chimney has fire sprouting from it. The whole house is a homeowner's insurance agent's nightmare. Do you see the pine tree lurking behind the snowman? The ice dams ruining the roof?

Do you see the slip and fall claim?

The gingerbread man got clumsy and tripped while cutting through the yard. That's a snowdrift at his feet.

I didn't outline my windows, but I did hang wreaths in them. Plus I did a little landscaping and double-plus just look at that snowman's red hat!! He looks like a sailor to me.

After the houses were built and we were fully snacked, we walked around the house. It's really beautiful, but it was built from materials that Carl Weeks had brought over from England. The house is mostly stone-even the floors. And the windows are single-pane glass in metal frames and I've just lived in the Midwest too long not to wonder how you heat a house like that!!

I had a fantastic time this evening. Thanks, Julie!

Room Freshener

2010-12-07T14:30:00.001-06:00

I am a little shy of home fragrance products because I worry about indoor pollution and my cats' wee lungs. So in the office thusly or in a pan on a stove burner I simmer herbs, cinnamon sticks, vanilla extract or orange peels. It smells nice in here!

Pearl Harbor Day and Eeyore's saga

2010-12-07T06:32:00.008-06:00

I woke up and walked into the kitchen this morning. I saw the victim of a crime:

Eeyore is one of the plush Christmas ornaments for the bottom of the tree. Since cats live here, there aren't any hazardous ornaments down there. Fourteen years ago, I started this tradition because that August I had found a darling little abandoned kitten in the shrubs outside my apartment. I consider her to be the likely culprit. Here's her mug shot from this morning. Pardon her fuzzy edges; she just woke up:

Lily's first Christmas was the year she adopted Eeyore. She pulled him off the tree one day when she was marginally larger than himself. I put him back on the tree. She pulled him off. I put him on. She pulled him off and I finally got the message when I found Eeyore's nose in her water bowl in the kitchen. She had adopted a baby! For years she loved this little fellow like her kitten. She would carry him around by his scruff and lick him at bathtime. If I put Eeyore on the edge of the couch, she would watch him like a hawk and make little concerned meows until he was back on the floor.

Here is Eeyore all these years later. He's been loved on by a couple cats now and his nose has been mended where the stuffing started coming out from many baths and all the water he's had.

Here is the original replacement Eeyore, still safely on the tree. I'm not sure why the embellished, gift-bearing Eeyore was chosen this year, but mostly the mystery is why Eeyore? There's Tigger and Kanga and Pooh on the tree, but they get left alone. This is the first year I can remember the other Eeyore being pulled to safety off the dangerous dangly branches of the tree.

Also, today is Pearl Harbor Day. Not a day that will live in infamy since some schools never mention it. Enter Facebook where a number of us have posted a little memorial for the event. I hope it does some good for the next generation. It's a reminder that no matter how large a country's landmass, the battle can come to us.

I think that's an important reminder for the world we live in today.

List maker

2010-11-23T20:49:00.007-06:00

I'm a list maker. I have a system. I write things down in a numbered list. I cross it off when it's done.

Then things get complicated and messy. So the things not crossed off get circled because they are things I need to do now. If something is a priority above all the rest, there's a star. Nothing on this list has a star.

That means I was busy.

I highlight things to do after the circles. In orange things are circled that need to move to a new list.

So I'm just about ready for Thanksgiving. This list has been retired. There is a new, neat list of last-minute items next to me. I love my list. I love it so much I wrote a blog post about it. I love lists so much, I broke a month-long blog spell to talk about a stupid list.

Last Sunday, this young man went to the grocery store with me. We bought a 2-liter bottle of soda and a pack of gum. His brother gave him a hard time and made him cry. Or I made him cry. I'm not sure. Maybe because I thought the argument would blow over. At any rate, he sat in the back seat and cried. His brother got out of the car and I tried to talk to him. I asked him what was wrong. He sat there and cried for awhile and then he got out of the car. But not before he twice threw the pack of gum at the front of the car. I gave him the option of his talking it out or me talking about anger and his behavior.

He got the speech about being angry and throwing things.

But I kept the speech short and sweet. I said it wasn't appropriate behavior and really just left it there. He got out of the car and I drove off. It stinks when they are upset, but I am learning to let the chips fall where they fall.

This morning I showed up at his school for something called Breakfast Buddies. I walked into his classroom to get him and when he saw me he smiled. He got up and made his way from the back of the room. Halfway through, he started talking to me.

"Mrs. Caron?" he said.

"Hey bud," I replied.

He got closer and said, "I'm sorry." I thought maybe he was thinking that he was supposed to call me the night before Breakfast Buddies and I almost got my mouth open to ask him or express my confusion when he said...

"I'm sorry about Sunday afternoon in your car."

I accepted his apology and tried not to float down the steps to the lunchroom.

Dona Nobis Pacem

2010-11-04T15:27:00.003-05:00

We hope for peace in the world, but it is often difficult just get peace within.

Be quiet for awhile today.

Nature Notes - Autumn leaves

2010-11-04T08:45:00.006-05:00

Visit Michelle at the uplifting Nature Notes Thursday to see the one-legged chickadee!

Last weekend while we were on a bike-riding, rolling down grassy hills, trying to injure ourselves safari, the kids saw three big piles of leaves in a neighbor's unfenced yard. The rake was still there as a sign that the leaf raker had only just stepped away from the piles to get a refreshing glass of water and a snack.

The kids immediately asked if they could run into the piles of leaves and jump around. I said the owner of the house ~~owner's teenaged son~~ had spent far too much time making three ~~enticing~~ huge piles of backyard ~~temptation~~ leaves and he probably wouldn't appreciate our ~~destruction~~ idea of fun.

Everyone was disappointed including me!

Gathering Leaves
by Robert Frost
Spades take up leaves
No better than spoons,
And bags full of leaves
Are light as balloons.
I make a great noise
Of rustling all day
Like rabbit and deer
Running away.
But the mountains I raise
Elude my embrace,
Flowing over my arms
And into my face.
I may load and unload
Again and again
Till I fill the whole shed,
And what have I then?
Next to nothing for weight,
And since they grew duller
From contact with earth,
Next to nothing for color.
Next to nothing for use.
But a crop is a crop,
And who's to say where
The harvest shall stop?

Des Moines Half Marathon recap

2010-10-18T18:59:00.004-05:00

I ran the half marathon yesterday morning. I worked really hard for it and I'm really proud of the outcome.

I was shooting for a 2:10 time and I crossed the finish line in 2:12! It was a really good run and the weather was perfect. The only problem came around mile 11 or so when my hamstring started to act up. I stopped to stretch it, which was a mistake because when I stood up, it seized up on me.

It was a really good day and although I'm a little sore today, it was all worth it.

Nature Notes: Who's peeking at me?

2010-10-13T21:18:00.003-05:00

Visit Michelle at the fascinating Nature Notes Thursday to learn something new.

I would love to tell you that this little bird, which I believe is a female goldfinch, was posing for me this morning. I would love to tell you that she stayed in one spot long enough for a decent photo.

But she didn't. She came and went. She flitted and skittered. She marched up and down the length of the windowsill. She came right up to the glass and looked at me. I just snapped photos like I knew what I was doing and was as surprised as you are that I got some good shots.

It was a beautiful fall morning today, one in a long streak that we completely deserve given the perfectly awful weather we've had for more than 12 months.

The moral of this story: steak knives are deceptive?

2010-10-12T10:18:00.015-05:00

I made soup. The soup required straining, so I bought a strainer. I’ll be taking the strainer back to Target because I didn’t strain the soup. That’s one of those final little steps you have to do if you are serving guests, isn’t it? I am just me eating it as is. Cooking is simpler and I’m $8.99 richer.

After I shared with you all my canned meeet recipes, my friend Pippa sent me an email right away ~~telling me how disgusted she was~~ begging me for more. Pippa is from Georgia, so I am including in today’s post a recipe called Dixie Dandy Bake.

The Dixie Dandy Bake is super spectacular enough to be featured on the cover of this cookbook. It's the ~~delicacy~~ item in the lower left corner looking a lot like a meatloaf with cling peach slices on top surrounded by tomatoes and drizzled in a glaze of heavy syrup.

Those crazy folks down in Dixie!

Dixie Dandy Bake
1 1-pound can applesauce
¼ teaspoon ginger
2 12-ounce cans luncheon meat
1 8-ounce can pineapple slices
1 1-pound 2-ounce can sweet potatoes
* * *
½ cup apricot jam
½ teaspoon dry mustard
¼ teaspoon salt
1 tablespoon water

Combine applesauce and ginger; spread in 10x6x1-1/2 inch baking dish. Slice each loaf of luncheon meat 3 times on the diagonal, cutting only ¾ of the way through.
Halve pineapple slices; insert in cuts in meat. Place meat atop applesauce; arrange sweet potatoes around meat. Combine remaining ingredients. Spread over meat, pineapple and potatoes. Bake at 400 degrees for 35 to 40 minutes. Makes 6 servings.

I’m now keenly aware that in the 1960s in the United States, there were no fresh fruits, vegetables, dairy or meat. Were they trying to rid the country of a stockpile of canned goods from the war? Was it all from bomb shelter rations? Someone tell me. Here is another hot dog recipe to have your family rushing to the dinner table.

Go meat!

Cheese Franks
1 pound (8 to 10) frankfurters
* * *
1 6-ounce roll process cheese food: pepper, garlic, smoky or bacon flavor
1 3-ounce package corn chips, coarsely crushed (about 1 cup)

Split frankfurters lengthwise, cutting only about ¾ the way through. Place in a shallow baking dish or jellyroll pan. Spread cut surfaces with cheese food; sprinkle cheese generously with crushed corn chips. Bake in moderate over (350) until heated through, about 15 minutes. Serves 4 or 5.

I’m thinking about cooking my way through the Better Homes and Garden Creative Cooking Library like that woman did for Julia Childs’ cookbook and then made a vast fortune from a book and movie. Can’t you see it? Who should play me in the movie? Helen Hunt? Sarah Jessica Parker? Those are the stars I’ve been compared to most often.

Shut.up.

You won’t believe what they suggest you do to bologna, which I prefer spelling like this: baloney. Yes, I have a preference about how to spell it, pronounce it and eat it. Yes, I am willing to eat it on the rare occasion. I eat it fried to death in a hot skillet and served on white bread with mayo and lettuce. That’s all my brother Mike’s fault because he was in charge of me for a few summers and had to feed me.

Clearly he took that job seriously. Well, OK. He was pretty good at looking after me. OK, at any rate he was good at feeding me.

Oh! and since we are blaming our brothers and talking about food all at once I will tell you a story.

When I was a kid, we ate supper together every night. I don’t remember there being exceptions to that. When I was in elementary school, I didn’t get grounded for being late to the table, although reality kicked into high gear once yours truly got into junior high.

I was playing with Belinda Butcher, she of the Parisian mother/Butcher Hollow connection fame of late. I never heard my mother call. Heaven only knows what we were so engrossed in that I totally missed supper.

I wasn’t just late, I completely missed supper.

My brother John’s bedroom was a spare room that was behind the garage and connected to the dining room in our three-bedroom ranch. His bedroom was the “fourth” and my parents let him paint the walls black. Oh, our rooms are a whole ‘nother story. One room had the prettiest wallpaper and the other was bigger and Mike and I changed rooms incessantly.

Back to suppertime.

John was in his room and heard me come into the kitchen and he told me my plate was in the oven. I took it out of the oven and I asked him what it was. He said it was some sort of steak. I ate it all and I swear I even remember sitting alone at the table with a steak knife cutting through the meat. I liked it and since I was incredibly busy that day, I’m sure I was famished. Moreover, I also remember sitting there wondering if I was going to be in trouble (probably the first time I had never shown up for supper) and what I missed (my family make do without moi? Impossible!)

If I remember this right everyone was more than a little amazed that I had eaten my entire supper. I will spare you the suspense: it was liver, not steak.

My lying brother was very clever, but I liked the liver and will eat it to this day.

The moral of the story is that if you lay out steak knives, no one will suspect they aren’t eating steak: It’s the power of suggestion.

I dare you to make the Dixie Dandy (Steak) Bake and serve it for supper tonight.

I need a break

2010-10-11T20:23:00.009-05:00

It feels a little like life has had a jolly time kicking me around the last couple days. So to lift my spirits, I am going to ~~make~~ let you all enjoy my 1963 Better Homes and Gardens Barbecues and Picnics cookbook: The newest in barbecuing! 135 recipes for cookouts, porch suppers, picnics.

And then I'll include something from Cooking with Cheese.

You come here for excitement, right?

Strap yourself in. The first recipe is strange enough that I believe it could taste pretty interesting, but in the 21st century it is probably illegal to cook it.

Nutty Pups
A new favorite for all ages
Broil franks to suit yourself. Serve in hot toasted buns spread with chunk-style peanut butter. Great when made with Frank Wrap-ups. Pass pickle relish.

I adore peanut butter and pickle sandwiches and this seems a little like that. I've heard of people who eat peanut butter and baloney. Not much different. Frankly, I know you are burning with desire to know about the Frank Wrap-ups.

Frank Wrap-ups
Slit frankfurters lengthwise to about 1/4 inch from each end; stuff with pickle relish and wrap each with a bacon strip, anchoring ends with toothpicks. Broil over hot coals, turning once, till filling is hot and bacon crisped. (Remember to remove toothpicks anchoring bacon.)

I know there must be a joke in there about removing the toothpicks, but I'm distracted. Those wrap-ups seem like a whole lotta work and how is the pickle relish going to stay inside the hot dog? Also on the rare occasion when I have tried the bacon-wrapped hot dog thing, the bacon doesn't actually cook to crispy. Is it just me?

OK, so back in 1963, canned luncheon meeet was either still very popular or the Spam/Armour folks paid for lots of recipes judging from the number of times canned luncheon meeet is mentioned in these books. Here are some fun ones for your next party.

Get your spit ready!

Cheese-frosted Luncheon Meat
Anchor canned luncheon meat on a spit. Blend 2 parts triple-use cheese spread and 1 part Dijon-style prepared mustard; slather on all sides of meat. Grill over hot coals till golden brown. Slice and serve with dill pickle slices on toasted rolls. Pass extra sauce.

Lunch-on-a-stick
Thread 1-1/2 inch squares of canned luncheon meat on skewers with quartered orange slices (cut thick, with peel on) and canned sweet potatoes. Broil over slow coals; turn often and brush with glaze. Glaze: Combine 1/2 cup brown sugar, 1/2 cup orange juice, 1/4 cup vinegar, and 1 tablespoon prepared mustard; simmer uncovered 10 minutes.

"Canned luncheon meeet" sounds like a polite way of saying something else like telling someone you have to go "down the hall" when really you need to piddle.

Next up is Cooking with Cheese from 1966, which you can see from the photo that cooking is spelled with a lowercase C and cheese is in caps. Clever typography to catch your eye. I have a number of these cookbooks and they all have something going on to get your attention. I go to jumble sales and I can't pass these things up. Maybe they're all over the country, but they are published here in Des Moines, so they're e.v.e.r.y.w.h.e.r.e around this town.

Here are two dips for that meeet party I'm convinced you're planning and not inviting me to.

Low-calorie dip
1 12-ounce carton (1.5 cups) cream-style cottage cheese
1 tablespoon mayonnaise
1 teaspon salad-spice-and-herb mix
In electric blender or mixer, blend all ingredients until almost smooth. Chill. Garnish with snippets of parsley. Pass celery and carrot sticks. Makes about 1-1/2 cups dip.

Dip Away Diet Dip
Beat one 12-ounce carton small curd cream-style cottage cheese, 1-1/2 teaspoons instant minced onion and 1/2 teaspoon seasoned salt with electric mixer. Chill. Stir in 1 tablespoon finely chopped canned pimiento or snipped parsley. Serve with relish sticks.

If you make anything, let me know! I'm going to go ice my hamstring, chew my fingernails and stare blankly.

Once again let's talk about dogs

2010-09-30T16:25:00.009-05:00

I went for a run today. The morning air was lovely and soft and I was awake, but since the weather has been so nice all week, I decided I would run at lunchtime.

Remember how I started this training stuff back in August when it was 152 degrees outside at 0600? Apparently there’s no difference between 75 degrees and 152 degrees. It was not a pleasant run.

I was reminded that my grandchildren would say, “You git what you git and you don’t throw a fit.”

Besides the heat and the sunshine, my feet were turning 360 degrees on my ankles and my legs were full of lead. I’m saying my legs felt heavy. Like logs made of lead. Leaden Lincoln Logs with a small, rusty hinge in the middle for knees. My shoulders were hunched up around my ears and I felt like one of those runners or swimmers who try really hard and make a lot of noise, but don’t seem to actually move forward.

About a half-mile into this stupidity, a small Pomeranian in a driveway across the street caught my eye. Caught my ear, too. He was bark, bark, barking at me and edging his way down the driveway to the street. A young man in the driveway called to the dog, but the dog ignored him. The guy seemed pretty calm about it, but I think at the same time we both realized the UPS truck was coming down the road.

I turned and saw the truck and the space/time continuum split down the middle so time would slow down. It probably all happened in a few seconds, but it seems to me even now it was at least several minutes. The dog came off the end of the driveway. Young man seemed pretty calm even when the truck came up alongside me. He probably wasn't really calm, ya think? I stopped. I saw the dog stop in the middle of the road. He finally focused on the truck rather than on the runner.

It’s too bad I didn’t have an apron on. I’ve read in books of old women who get distressed and throw their apron over their head. That was me without the apron. I threw my arms over my face and covered my head like I was in a 1950s nuclear bomb drill. I turned around away from the truck and slid my hands over my ears. I am not the sort of person who can bear to watch destruction of flesh and blood, but once the deal is done I am not typically fainthearted.

Immediately I turned around to see what needed to be done and I saw the dog intact on all fours, albeit clumsy and disoriented. Clearly shaken and wobbly, the dog trotted over to the curb closest to the owner.

Angry and relieved, I shouted at the young man. I swore a wee bit and called him ‘dude’ and that is the laughable part of all this. I shouted, “Damn, dude. Put the dog on a leash before he bites someone or gets killed.”

Note the order of my priorities – bites someone (hello? Like ME obviously) or gets killed. I heart dogs, I sincerely and deeply heart dogs and Pomeranians are my favorite little dog, but apparently I still come first.

Plus? I said ‘dude’ and that makes me laugh at myself. At the time, I was so angry I ran off up to the end of the cul-de-sac. I heard him shout after me, “He isn’t going to bite anyone!”

Good comeback, dude.

I made my way back around to that side of the street. I saw the dog run into the backyard with the young man behind him. The driver did the same thing and stopped in front of the house. He walked to the backyard with me right on his heels. He asked if the dog was ok and the kid said he thought so.

The dog had oil on his back, but everything seemed sound. Of course, he still should go to the vet. I just walked up to them, interrupted and apologized for snapping at him. The only other thing I said was this and it is true:

No one thinks their dog will do that, but dogs don’t like runners.

Even if they seem to be ok with most runners, you never know what will set a dog off. Is it the color of my shirt? Am I breathing too hard? Running slower or faster than other runners? Is there a child in the yard? Is the wind blowing the wrong way? I mean, they’re dogs…they’re animals. They do what they do and what they do can be a little unpredictable.

Large dogs can do a lot of damage, but a small dog can easily bite into a calf or thigh muscle and then we're all going to be extremely unhappy.

Even if your dog is a completely under your control, a runner doesn’t know that. So shorten the leash when we run by, OK?

Nature Notes - Morning Light

2010-09-30T07:31:00.002-05:00

Visit Michelle at the intelligent Nature Notes Thursday to learn something new.

Something I really love about autumn is the angle and softness of the light in the morning. I took the first shot and then about 10 minutes later, I took the second shot this morning. Went out on the deck in my robe for all of you.
In the photo above, the trees at the very top of the photo look as though they have turned golden, but that is the sunlight coming up over the houses. In reality, those trees are all still green.

With my limited photography skills and little point and shoot camera, these photos simply don't do it justice. It is one of my favorite things in nature, this morning light. It's also one of my favorite things about Christmas and Easter mornings.

All's Blue
Robert Browning
I find earth not gray but rosy,
Heaven not grim but fair of hue.
Do I stoop? I pluck a posy.
Do I stand and stare? All's blue.

The Ting Tings - That's Not My Name

2010-09-28T21:25:00.000-05:00

I thought I was the only person who hadn't heard this song. The video annoys me, but I love the song and I listen to it way too much. So since a number of you have asked me what I'm talking about, here's the Ting Tings. Katie, the singer, started to rant about the music industry people not knowing her name. At least that's what the Google machine told me.

Lyrics from what appears to be their official site in case you're like me and can't stand not knowing the lyrics:
Go Back to List
InformationLyrics:

Four letter word just to get me along
It's a difficulty and I'm biting on my tongue
I Keep stalling, keeping it together
People around I gotto find something to say
Holding back everyday the same
Don't wanna be a loner
Listen to me
I never say anything at all
So with nothing to consider they forget my name

They call me hell
They call me Stacey
They call me her
They call me Jane
That's not my name...
They call me quiet
But I'm a riot
Mary-Jo-Lisa
Always the same
That's not my name...

I miss the catch when they throw me the ball
I'm the last drip standing up against the wall
Keep falling, these heels that keep me boring
Getting clamped up and sitting on the fence
So alone all the time and I lock myself away
Listen to me
Thought I'm dressed up out ‘n all
With everything considered they forget my name

They call me hell
They call me Stacey
They call me her
They call me Jane
That's not my name...
They call me quiet
But I'm a riot
Mary-Jo-Lisa
Always the same
That's not my name...

Are you calling me darling
Are you calling me bird...

Twelve for Tuesday: a dozen pointless thoughts

2010-09-28T14:49:00.002-05:00

1. I saw a co-worker shake, shake, shaking salt onto her frozen dinner from a box today. I almost gagged. She’ll be dead before she’s 25, but so well preserved, we can prop her up in a lifelike position at her computer and divide up her paycheck for a year.

2. I’ve been listening to spa music on iTunes. I launched iTunes and have not allowed myself to listen to the stupid Ting Tings song. It’s calling my name, though. (edit: I gave in and listened to it)

3. There were men and bright lights and welding in my driveway when I got home last night around 8:00 pm. The welder is attached directly to the fuse box. The door of the fuse box is off and covered with a huge sheet of cardboard. The stove is disconnected. I dare not run the sweeper ~~as if that was gonna happen~~ and there was equipment and debris everywhere. They continued welding until 10:30 pm. Knowing better than to involve myself in something like this, I went to bed and fell asleep without feeling any need to play hostess. The camper is still not completely fixed, so they will all show up for the party again tonight. They are none of them beer-drinking men apparently. My stash of Harp was untouched. Of course, the fact that I put it in a vegetable bin may account for this.

4. Speaking of vegetables, I need to know how to divide rhubarb because have you seen my rhubarb plant? I have room now for it some of it to live elsewhere in my garden.

5. I also have decided to buy some pumpkins for the front porch because a neighbor has done that and I am jealous. I always think of it as a huge waste of money and pumpkins. I would rather stir delicious pumpkin into a glass of orange/banana/pineapple juice and sip through a straw. don’t judge! But this year I am feeling festive...until it comes time for me to actually ~~pay for it~~ implement my plan...we’ll see.

6. A gaggle of co-workers has signed up for the 5K event in conjunction with the Des Moines Marathon next month. I think this is great! I’m beginning to feel a little left out of the camaraderie, but wouldn’t go from my half to their 5K for all the tea in China. I hope they will be there cheering me on at the beginning since we start only 30 minutes earlier.

7. Here is perhaps the biggest reason why I love the Des Moines Marathon: “The IMT Des Moines Marathon course is open for 7 hours. This allows for a 16 minute per mile pace for the Marathon. Race day services such as course marshals, aid stations, bike support and entertainment have been asked to prepare for a 7 hour day. They have been asked to provide as much support for the last walker as the first elite runner that passes by on the course.” (emphasis is mine) “The IMT Des Moines Marathon will not pack up and leave you. Members of the Mercy Medical Center first aid stations and sag wagons along with the Bike Iowa support team will remain on the course until every athlete crosses the finish line, receives a finisher medal, official time and post race nourishment.”

That’s for the full marathon – all 26.2 miles. That makes this race accessible for almost anyone and I think that’s really fantastic. [swelling with pride] None of this can be said for the local running group…

8. Rhubarb division is not always successful, but dividing hostas is and I have a boatload of hostas that need to be divided. If you are interested in adopting hosta offspring early next year, please let me know. Well, technically we can do it now if you want.

9. I lead a study group for people who want to learn Irish ~~which is surely the most difficult language on the planet after Chinese~~ and it’s loads of fun. Tonight we are learning how to greet people and we’re making flash cards. Just saying hello involves 14 phrases and that doesn’t include things like ‘I will see you later,’ ‘Take it easy’ and other casual phrases you might like to use.

10. I have Christmas shopping well in hand. That’s what I always think and then sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t. But I think I am doing well this year for reelz. I will send Christmas cards this year and that requires some time in October or November so it is done and over with and ready for mailing.

11. I love chutney.

12. I have a hankerin’ to go overboard and sign up for the five races I found this morning for the rest of the year. There’s a chocolate race on Halloween, a Jingle Jog, an off-road race, a race at the state fairgrounds and of course the one on January 1 at o’dark thirty in the morning at 17 degrees. Dumb, but fun. The coffee was freezing, it was so ridiculously cold that morning. It’s the sort of thing that was just a wafer-thin, tiny little slice of heaven at the time, but in looking back it was a lot of fun and you just can’t wait to do it again. I think I’ll sign up for that one for sure.

Smug

2010-09-27T14:57:00.003-05:00

I was listening to country music on the radio in my office because the classical music station won’t come in today. I’m not listening to iTunes because I cannot listen to the Ting Tings sing That’s Not My Name again without jumping through my plate glass window. And I have no willpower when it comes to that song. I have just turned off the radio because every song on the country station seems to be about something painful and I do not have the room in my life for pain.

As for pain, I’m not in pain. I’m just saying who needs all that extra pretend-angst when I need not look further than two feet in front of me to see it in real life. So now I am sitting in silence. Did you know that Country & Western is only Country and has been since, I think, the 60s? Yes, they dropped the Western. You have not heard Western music in a long time.

Speaking of country music, which we were for a change actually speaking of something I start talking about, I heard part of an interview yesterday morning. It was with Loretta Lynn and it sounded fairly recent. She’s still a feisty creature! She said she only watched Coal Miner’s Daughter three times and then stopped because it was too difficult to watch. The interviewer asked if it was difficult because it was too close to life or because they didn’t get it right.

She said it was too close to life. She also said she was almost on the plane that went down with Patsy Cline aboard. Patsy had offered her $50 to go on the job with her, but she was offered another job for $75 and she took the better pay. She also said that Sissy Spacek had spent a year with her before filming the movie and she wanted to kill Sissy by the time it was over. She was laughing, so I think probably Sissy isn’t offended by the remark. Well, she was laughing, but she was serious, just plumb serious, folks.

Also, did you know that I grew up in Dayton with a girl whose father was from Butcher Hollow, KY which is the place Loretta Lynn lived in? I don’t think it exists now, but Paintsville was nearby. There is a Butcher Hollow Road. When her daddy spoke it, it went like this: Butcher Holler. At any rate, I have referred to this family recently. She’s the girl whose mom was from Paris. Remember? I said something like, “What a match!” but I am too lazy to go back and look for that. I could tell a couple stories about Belinda. I think she was the reason I ever got into trouble. We must have spent every waking minute together for a couple years, because most of life’s memories in Huber Heights, OH include her.

Back to Loretta.

Loretta talked about going into radio stations and how they would make her wait forever and how rude Ralph Emery was to her. He told her he didn’t like her style and she said she wanted to punch him. The interviewer mentioned that some of her songs were banned and she said, “If a song was banned, I never spent a penny on it. I knew it would go straight to the top if I left it alone.”

Then they played the song Your Lookin’ at Country, which is a good song and I have been singing it to myself for more than 24 hours now.

I have no idea how this turned into a post about my close, personal friend Loretta.

I ran the Capital Pursuit 10-mile race yesterday morning. After getting the children ready for church because obviously I am the only person capable of getting the children ready. No wonder some women get like that. I am getting like that – like I am the only one who can take care of the kids. It may be due to the fact that I am the only one, in point of fact, taking care of the kids.

Now I get it.

Oh, that sounds so bitter. I don’t mean it like that. Well, do I? I know many mothers who go through the same thing. OK, well anyway. They were not hungry, disheveled or naked when they arrived at church. I would have heard otherwise. So that’s another victory.

As I said, I ran the race. I did so in 10:07 minute miles. That’s pretty good and I’m pretty pleased with myself. Between taking care of the kids every Sunday morning and learning how to run, I may become insufferable rather quickly.

Shut up.

I’ll bet Loretta wrote a song about this sort of thing.

Nature Notes - things are changing around here

2010-09-23T08:26:00.003-05:00

Visit Michelle at the intelligent Nature Notes Thursday to learn something new.

I hadn't been seeing many changes like other bloggers, but now they're coming at me pretty fast. The one I notice most is the darkness because getting out to run in the morning has become more challenging. The penstemon in my garden is fading, the rhubarb is dying back, the peony bushes are completely shriveled up.

But there are other things going gangbusters! Well, two things. Can two things be gangbusters?

My hibiscus, which was a birthday present last year from my lovely niece, is crazy every morning. The rose bush I planted in the front yard hasn't received any memo about autumn, either. I need to put rose pruning into the google machine and see what it spits out because it is now reaching out to grab any one who dares walk to the front door. Next I expect to see it embrace people in its thorny but loving arms.

Lost: One week in time

2010-09-20T19:05:00.005-05:00

Last week is a blur. It started with food poisoning and missing two days of work. It ended with me running zero miles. In between there was a lot of work at work, a wedding rehearsal, a big party, a wedding, a reception and a little brunch the following morning. I had the grandkids overnight, too. So I let them sleep in on Sunday morning and we all still got to the brunch on time. So many details about the wedding and the kids and the reception - it went well, we all had fun, everything was wonderful, the rain on the wedding day was biblical from morning to the end of the evening at 11:00 pm. I'll put up more photos if/when I get them.

Me and my niece. She's such a sweetie.

I brought a bag of toys knowing nothing would hold interest for a long time. Everything was played with more than once and all the snacks were eaten. It was a good idea.
The bride with her cousin.
Me and my grandkids.