the endless pursuit of Life

fresh veggies? yes, please.

2012-02-06T00:27:00.002-06:00

We have a motto here about our yard:

Don't waste your time growing things that aren't edible or useful.


Take out your frustrations and give that bag a good stabbing.

In that vein, all the beautiful but pointless ornamentals planted by the previous owners have died. Well, not quite all of them. The ornamentals that were strong enough to make it through the Houston summers and random freezes without any help from me have lived. I'm rather proud of those tough little suckers.

The now rather empty flower bed surrounding our back patio is starting to fill up with kitchen and medicinal herbs. Parsley, Oregano, Chives, Horehound and Rosemary, to name a few. But herbs haven't been enough.

I've been wanting a vegetable garden for quite some time now, but it didn't ever make it to the top of the priority pile. See, vegetable gardening is a very labor-intensive task. I'd first have to section out part of my yard. But we have a sprinkler system and I'd have to make sure I wasn't getting in any pipe's way. Then I'd have to rototill, and since our soil is crappy clay crap, I'd for sure have to add all sorts of stuff to it to make it growable. But I wouldn't want to since it's so much work, so raised beds with new, good soil would be the next best option. But that's a lot of work because I'd have to...Are you getting the picture?

Oooh! Such a sinister gardening moment!

Well. God bless Mother Earth News magazine. I love checking out their back issues from the library and in the April/May 2010 issue I found the answer to my problem: a no-dig garden! You simply buy bags of gardening soil, cut them open and plant directly into them. Brilliant! No roto-tilling, partitioning of yards or amending soil. Plus, I could start as small as I needed to.

First, you jab a bunch of holes in one side. They suggest a screwdriver, I used the handle of a spoon that one of the kids had left out from their grub digging. Either way, this puppy needs some drainage holes. I also suggest massaging the bag to distribute the soil evenly. Mine was rather compacted to one side. Plus, who knows, maybe that soil is all stressed out from being handled so violently.

Yep, collards.

Now that your bag of soil is all relaxed, flip it over, making sure that the soil is distributed nice and evenly. Get yourself a nice sharp knife and cut the plastic off the now-top of the bag, leaving a good two inches on each side. You don't want all that nice soil falling out now, do you?

That's it. Your garden is ready. Just plant whatever seeds you want and ta da!

Another nice thing is that I was able to label the bag. And with my radishes, since I'm going to plant new ones every week, I was able to mark where I had already planted a row of seeds. It was awesome!

The last photo is my finished vegetable garden. In SE Texas it's time to plant collards, radishes, beets, lettuce, green onions and leeks. That's what you're looking at. Each month I'll add something else to the garden. As soon as my seeds come in the mail from Fedco Seeds (highly recommend ordering from them), I'll be planting cabbage and some other stuff which I can't remember right now. So I'll go pick up another bag of soil and do it again! I'm so excited!!!

There is a bit of rain on my parade though. I have to be very careful where to put this dream realization. My HOA, I'm sure, is against having bright yellow plastic bags sitting on my lawn. I think I placed them where they are not visible from the road...hopefully. We'll see.

I'll let you know how this works out. I won't promise you a play-by-play, but I can let you know if this li'l experiment ends up working...or not.

Thank you, Mr. Pushpesh Pant.

2012-02-03T22:34:00.001-06:00

Dinner tonight came from my latest library visit: India Cookbook by Pushpesh Pant. Delicious! We had the Baghare Gajar (savory carrots) and Khoya Matar (peas with thickened milk). The peas were a little strange as they took almost an entire box of dried milk that you proceeded to saute in ghee first. Didn't work quite perfectly but the taste was divine.

My mom fried up some chicken strips with Indian spices. (I told her, "Mom, I'm going to make some carrots and peas. You're in charge of the chicken." This may not seem a big deal, but was, in fact, a little mean, since at that point the chicken was frozen solid in the freezer. Sorry, Mom!) We also had a Masala Milkshake. (A super yummy, non-iced, blended milk drink with almonds, cardamom and rose water. Oh so good!)

I've already made another meal with India: The Cookbook. It was superb.

This book is going to mine. Oh yes. It will be mine.

art time!

2012-01-15T21:03:00.000-06:00

I needed to wait until after Christmas to post these as they were made into a calendar for our families. But now they're all out and I wanted to share.

Our Christmas present to our siblings, grandparents, etc. was a calendar of ourselves. But we didn't want them to be any ol' pictures. So I came up with the idea last year to reproduce famous paintings. My plan was to do two a month and then we wouldn't be rushed. HA HA HA HA HA! Who was I fooling?

I completely forgot about it until late October.

But...I always do better with an impending deadline...

We ended up revamping our choices anyway because some paintings were too ornate or the costumes too difficult to reproduce and our budget was rather limited.

The unexpected part was that the kids learned all sorts of truths about paintings and photographs. As did I.

Truth #1 - Posing is hard work! And painful! Sometimes the shoots would take upwards of 30 minutes and we were constantly taking pictures and making minute adjustments.
"Move your foot just a titch more to the left."
*snap picture and compare to original*
"Nope, not far enough. A little more."
"Mom! My leg is starting to ache!"
"Just a few minutes more...I promise!"

Truth #2 - Paintings, while looking real, do not necessarily adhere to reality. My daughter, reproducing Flaming June, found that there was no way, short of breaking bones, to get her body in that exact pose. She's a child and the woman was full-grown, so there are some proportion issues, but frankly, I'm not sure even a professional yoga master could do it. Let alone fall asleep in that position! All the time the kids were realizing as they looked at these great works of art, "Hey! That's not even possible!"

Truth #3 - Photographs are just as dishonest. As a group, we were constantly looking at the paintings and asking, "What do we have around the house that we could use for that?" By the end, we were all outside-the-box thinkers. Strips of cut t-shirts became suspenders, a swimming medal, while being careful to hide the bright green ribbon, became a royal pendant, and very carefully placed fabric transformed into a beautiful, flowing dress, to name a few. And in the end, shoulders wrapped in towels, and bed sheets piled on heads, became pretty close representations.

(As always, click on the pictures for enlargements.)

i don't love poetry, but...

2011-11-03T23:43:00.001-05:00

俳

haiku: poetry
that my un poetic heart
can truly love

my birthday dinner

2011-11-03T22:15:00.002-05:00

For my 35th birthday, I wanted to have a real-life, grown-up, outdoor dinner party. So I did. My best buddy from Oregon even flew in as a surprise!

So while my mom and I made the meal (Indian, my fave!) Best Bud took all my ideas and made them just right. (She always does, she's so talented.)

Partner these images with Billie Holiday, The Andrews Sisters and Frank Sinatra serenading over the spicy scents of the meal. Ah...so much fun.

balance-shmalance

2011-10-21T00:54:00.001-05:00

I've been struggling lately with that enigmatic concept: balance. I hate it. It doesn't really make sense. How can I maintain this balance-thing when I don't even understand what the term means?

The visual I have is one of those old-fashioned scales where you have the things you need to accomplish portrayed as little weights. We carefully place them on the scales in such a way so they maintain an even keel. (Sorry, mixing my metaphors there.) So we can keep placing more or more on as long as we keep them 'in balance'? And when is it unbalanced? When the weights fall off? Or when it's just barely off horizontal? Does anyone really know?

What about the idea that we are one of those circus performers that balance all sorts of things upon our chins? (cue calliope music) They must be placed just so in order to keep them from tumbling down. We are also limited by the length of our arms as to how much we can place upon the pile. (Unless we have help, but I really don't want to go any deeper in this analogy, if that's okay with you.) It sure seems awful precarious, doesn't it? Is that really how I want to live?

In any description of balance, there is an accompanying element of instability. If I misstep, will it all come tumbling down? And won't my neck get sore keeping it in that position all...the...time?

I'm exhausted just reading about it. How can people really aim for this as their goal?

I've decided that being a world-class cagola player or a side-show extraordinaire is not what I want to strive towards. Especially since I'm not the best at choosing which things are most important to place on my balancing piles in the first place. So I've made this agreement with God: I give him the multitude of odd-shaped pieces that I'm failing to balance on my own. He then picks out which ones are just right for the day and as I go along, He's right there beside me, carrying them Himself, letting me know what's important. I go to bed at night with peace. And that's a big thing for me.

Now don't get the wrong idea. I suck at this, too. I often forget to ask for His help (or maybe I'm "too busy" to stop for a ridiculously short few minutes) and then I'll spend the afternoon engrossed in Pinterest (which I love, but isn't really the best use of my time usually), kicking myself when the kids are still working on their school while I'm finishing dinner at their bedtime of 8 o'clock. But luckily I've got a God who believes in second chances (or third...or fourth...or thirty-fifth...) And being a crappy God-relier (yeah, 'relier' is a real word, I looked it up) is 1000x better than balancing the world and her seven continents on my chin.

(Dang it! I just spent the last 20 minutes looking at Pinterest because I checked to make sure the link worked right. Grrrr...that site is a giant time-sucking lamprey eel...of awesomeness!)

techno love/hate.

2011-06-11T21:00:00.010-05:00

I've finally gotten an iPhone.
The other afternoon I looked down and the battery was at 82%. My first thought?

"Awesome! I've been really productive today!"

How sad is that? A high battery shows that I haven't been messing with it much, thus I've been busy doing the things I need to get done.

My iPhone battery readout can now act as a productivity meter.

Almost directly.

Too much time on Words With Friends or perusing the Interwebs and not only does my battery life drop like a well-oiled cannonball, but so does my ability to check off those super important "To Do" boxes.

"Let's see...54% battery at lunch time? I've wasted half my day today! Whip crackin' time!"

OR

"2pm and my iPhone is at 91%!! (in the words of my consultant husband) I'm practically at Full Utilization!"

I'm not sure how I feel about this. We have a TV in our bedroom and upstairs in our Family Room (where I rarely go during the day) and no cable. This is on purpose. With no TV in our common areas, I accomplish much more. Now I've invited a pocket-sized So-Much-More-Than-A-TV into my life. One I can carry with me EVERYWHERE. It's up to sheer willpower now. There's no Removing The Temptor.

*gulp*

clever swim-related title

2011-06-10T19:34:00.001-05:00

I just had an hour's worth of work vanish with the wrong combination of mouse clicks. *heavy sigh*

To sum up in ten sentences.:

Four of the kids are on a summer swim team.
I have to get up early.
I'm not an early riser, but have always wanted to be.
Swim team has given me the opportunity to change my sleeping habits.
"Early to rise" necessitates "early to bed."
"Early to bed" sucks.
Swim team = crazy busy.
Crazy busy = 2.5 hrs a day (Tues-Fri) and 7 hrs every Saturday for 8 weeks.
Crazy busy sucks.
The positives of swim team outweigh the sucky parts...just barely.

In retrospect, I think this sum up version is better.

the green-eyed monster

2011-04-05T00:08:00.001-05:00

If I ever check out this one friend's wall on facebook I can't help but feel jealous and insecure. She's beautiful, successful, has way fewer kids than me (so her life is obviously easier than mine (that was sarcasm, if you didn't know)), is skinnier than me, has more money than me...I'm sure I can come up with more.

It's ridiculous, I know. It's juvenile, I know. It's like she makes me feel like I'm back in high school again with all those "Am I good/cool/skinny enough?" thoughts. I hate it. I have actually outgrown those insecurities. (Thank you, God!) But for some reason this one person drags it all back up again. The crazy part is that I'm completely aware of how skewed online personas can be, since most people only report the rosy everything's-going-good stuff. I know that everyone has crap they have to deal with and everyone has different strengths. We really can't compare ourselves since God made us all with unique purposes. That knowledge is all up in my head, but when she's on the screen, I can't feel it in my heart. So what to do?

Right now it's blaringly obvious to me that I need to get some Divine help. If anyone can get this ridiculousness sorted, it's Him.

And why did I even post this for the world to see? Ummm...the good answer is "If it just helps one person, it's worth it." Yeah, right. But the real answer is, "I just had to get off facebook because of her and I'm tired and should be in bed and felt like posting some honest/transparent stuff."

Nitey nite.

anonymity.

2011-03-02T14:39:00.000-06:00

I flirt with the idea of doing a completely anonymous blog. (My friend said she was toying with the idea and that got me started thinking about it.) A blog that is linked to an unknown email and which has no outward connection to me at all. It would be a faceless voice in the blogo-void. I could say anything I wanted about anyone and no one would know.

In having a known blog I have to use restraint in posting. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings. I think twice before blabbing all about this funny thing to happened to the people near and dear to my heart. But an anonymous blog? No such restraint would be necessary. No one would know who was typing, nor would they know who it was about. Ah, the bliss.

But that got me thinking more. What good would this do me? And the more I thought, the more I realized that it would be more harmful than anything, at least for me. It might be freeing to type whatever I want, but self-control and restraint are two virtues that most people, especially me, need to exercise. And if I'm spilling my guts to the interwebs that can do nothing to help me, will I really want to repeat the whole thing to God who can actually do something about it?

So my answer is no. No anonymous blogging for me. But it was a nice thought while it lasted.

india...could we meet in the near future?

2011-02-28T17:19:00.002-06:00

I've been enamored with India lately. The food, the cinema, the culture...it's fascinating.

I've been cooking out of Madhur Jaffrey's cookbooks and my only complaint is that my husband doesn't like curry. *heavy sigh* Fortunately he's a non-complaining, adventurous sort, so I can overlook his curry-hating shortcoming. (For the record, Madhur's Moghlai Eggs from either Quick & Easy Indian Cooking or Simple Indian Cookery (I can't remember which) are amazing!!)

And while they are cheesier than all get out, I have fallen for Bollywood and Hindi cinema. For one thing, I love learning about the culture. Sure they're not entirely accurate, they are movies after all, but I have been able to glean certain cultural aspects. For instance, it is a sign of respect to an elder to touch their foot with your hand.

I also love how clean the movies are. The conclusion of the movie, the resolution to the romantic turmoil that we have witnessed for the last three hours (that's usually how long they are) is that the lovers embrace with a very emotional, intense...hug. The first time this happened I felt a little ripped off. I mean, they should kiss, right? Then it happened again. And again...and again. I realized this is just how it is and now I'm used to it. The newest movies aren't as conservative, but when compared to what Hollywood has become...it's a nice change.

Two of my favorites: Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge (this is the longest running movie in history, over 15 years in the theatre. First half is pretty cheesy but if you can survive it, the 2nd half is good.) and Rab Ne Bana Di Jodi (If you read the Netflix description it will give you the wrong impression (like most Netflix descriptions). This is a beauty-and-the-nerd story and has nothing to do with age.)

I just finished watching the PBS mini-series, The Story of India, and realized that in all of my 16 years of formal education the only things I learned of India's history concerned the British Raj and Gandhi. Those events are such a tiny fragment of what has happened in that region and I find it sad that the only things I know are those that are connected with the West. Well, it won't happen to my kids. They aren't only going to learn about one half of the globe for two reasons: 1) I want them to be knowledgeable about all of God's people, all of Earth's citizens, not just those from the West and 2) I want to learn it, too.

One more thing...Did I mention the colors? How can you not love a culture that embraces red, fuschia, turquoise, orange, and yellow? And the spices...have you smelled cardamom and cinnamon? Oh! and the masala chai? How can anyone not love a cup of that brewed deliciousness? (For the record, 'chai' means 'tea', so saying, "chai tea" is like saying, "tea tea." Pretty silly, right? Technically you should say "masala chai" which means 'spiced tea.' But of course, Americans don't know that and if you said, "Can I have a Masala Chai?" you'd probably just get a silent, I-Don't-Know-What-You-Are-Talking-About stare.) (Great recipe right here.)

I've also have been reading travel websites (good one here) about all sorts of things like the realities of seeing India's poverty as well as how to ease yourself into Indian food. Now if I only had multiple thousands of extra dollars to get there...

I guess that's why we have the internet, right?

surprse! we didn't die!

2011-02-26T20:11:00.002-06:00

We went to a small, local, organic dairy (small = only 11 of the 23 Jersey's being milked when we were there) a few days ago and bought our first raw milk. It was a bit jaw-droppingly spendy at $10/gallon but we were willing to try it out after reading all the nasty crap about today's milk industry of pasteurization and homogenization. Also, my husband can't drink milk or eat too much cheese or ice cream. He can eat things baked with milk like muffins or cake, but he can't have milk-based soups or gravies. We had heard that people who have milk issues can dink raw milk so we thought we'd give it a try.

The verdict? Oh, dear Heavenly God. Raw milk is so much better than you can imagine. (That might be a tinge overexagerrated.) It smells better and tastes better. At first we couldn't quite figure out what was so different, taste- and smell-wise, but then it dawned on us: pasteurization! Pasteurization is cooking the milk and while we've never noticed it before (since we had nothing with which to compare it) it is an obvious flavor when it is absent. Store-bought milk tastes like cooked milk.


Perty lil' Jersey

The kids all thought the raw milk was much better and kept asking us, "Can I have a bowl of cereal with the real milk?" (We still had a little store-bought milk leftover, which we were making them use up first.)

The best part of all was that my husband can drink it and it doesn't upset his stomach at all. We did a little research and found out why. When milk is pasteurized it kills all the bad jumk but it also kills the good stuff. One of the "good guys" that are killed are enzymes that help your body digest the milk itself. So when my husband was drinking store-bought milk, he was getting the milk but without the enzymes to digest it. (Apparently some people just don't have them. Sorry, Hubby.) Raw milk has the enzymes so he can drink it just fine.

Overall we are so pleased that we will be making budget adjustments in order to accomodate this new expsense because we think the benefits of raw milk so outweigh the cheapness of that pasteurized store-bought stuff that used to be milk. It's still hard to swallow the $10 price tag, but hey! as soon as the cows come off their winter feed the price drops to $8! Which, although still expensive, isn't too much of a jump from organic milk...

chop chop choppy time

2011-01-31T23:48:00.001-06:00

I'm going to be getting my hair chopped off.

I have it narrowed down to three choices.

Unfortunately, I think my hair is thicker than both Michelle's and Shannyn's.
But gosh darn it, that's what I want!

ta da!!

2011-01-03T15:31:00.002-06:00

Now this accomplishment may not be a big deal to some, but to me it's huge. I finished a project that ended up taking two years, ten months and 24 days. I finished it. FINISHED IT! Do you understand?

I started this babette blanket in February 2008 with a bag of yarn and a dream. A thought. An aspiration to make something substantial. And though it has been taken up and put down more times than I can count, by gum, I've shown this Babette who it was dealing with.

The weather conspired. (Have you ever tried to crochet a nice heavy afghan in the middle of a humid Houston summer?) So I had to take multiple months-long breaks. And then tragedy struck more than once. For example, with only two more yarn ends to sew in before the triumph of completion I realized that at some point I had snipped a strand in the middle of one of the squares and it was trying its best to covertly unravel itself. No need to fear, I knotted that traitor back up. But it was similar circumstances that tried to hold me back. I was not held down for ever, though. Not this time, baby. Oh no. You are the beginning of a new trend. Oh yes. I've got plans:

Nothing will ever go undone again. Ever. I will finish it ALL.

Okay, I might be getting swept up in the superlative moment, but I'm so proud of myself for actually finishing this thing that it's downright shameful. Sorry. But if you really know me, you understand and will even forgive me. I've got to revel in it while it lasts. Who knows when the next triumph of self-discipline and pure unadulterated will power will rear its glorious head?

So you might be asking, "What lesson can I glean from this tale of overcoming triumph?" Only this: If I can finish an entire afghan and have it not end up wadded into a ball in the back of some forgotten cupboard only to be found 50 years later when relatives are cleaning out the estate of their dearly departed Tricia, anyone can finish anything. And that's the God-honest truth.

nanowrimoing gopher

2010-11-13T21:16:00.001-06:00

I'm right in the middle of NaNoWriMo, (National Novel Writing Month) and am exactly where I'm supposed to be. (finished day 12, yesterday, with 20,000 words) In order to get 50,000 words by the end of the month I use all my free time at night to write. Crazy thing is that I really like it. I don't think I've exposed myself to an obsession, but it's definitely something I might look forward to every year.

But, I'm procrastinating right now. I really need to be moving my plot along but my head is doing that deep-in-the-background pounding created by a migraine of insane proportions that can only be dulled, not eradicated, by a higher-than-recommended dosage of Advil floating though my veins. At this moment, the idea of creating a literary something from nothing creates a smidgen of apprehension which causes a slight increase in blood pressure resulting in an immediate increase in tempo of the drum corp in my head. I'm just waiting for the two cups of coffee to increase the size of my brain veins and hopefully in concert with that Advil, the magic will be wrought, bringing peace by firing said snare drums. Unfortunately, I have a sneaking suspicion that this is one of those headaches that will only be satisfied by my sacrifice of complete sensory deprivation via a night of sleep. Dang it!

I don't really have anything important to say, just wanted to stick my head out and holler, "Hey there!" I dream that one day I'll be this disciplined, enlightened blogger with a huge following, but then I remember that blogging isn't my hobby, it's just something I do. I've recently realized that to be great at something you really need to dedicate a significant portion of your free time to it. (I know, seems obvious. But I find that most things I don't actively think about, when I actually take the time to apply thought, I'm surprised by what pops out. For instance, my dad used to say "'Tough titty,' said the kitty when the milk went dry." instead of saying "Tough luck, buddy." I always knew it meant "That's just too bad" but I had heard it so much I never really thought about the exact words he used. When I was in college, yes college!, I actually thought about that little saying and realized that poor little kitten's mommy had a hardened up teat. I was flabbergasted! And of course my dad laughed his head off when I told him "I got it." But that's my point. I could have figured it out years ago, but I never actively applied thought. I just accepted it and moved on. I hope you understand now because I'm not going to explain it anymore for this might be my record for a parenthesized explanation.)

I am not a monogamous hobbier. There are too many fish in the sea, as it were. I barely have time for crocheting, bike riding, garden planning (I'm hoping to move into the execution phase of the plans any day now. Yep, any day), video gaming, movie watching, laborious recipe cooking, baking, internet puttering, reading. And I haven't even tried all the things I'm interested in yet. There's still belly-dancing, knitting, cheese-making, soap-making, sailing, motorcycle camping...the list keeps growing the longer I'm alive. And so I need to resign myself to the fact that I am, in reality, a gopher blogger. I pop up every once in a while and then go back to the other stuff I'm filling my life with.

It would be awesome to be one of those obsessive single-activity people, but alas! not me.

Okay, enough procrastinating. Back to my novel...

PS - I finally got to watch Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland...Loved it! The absolute randomness of Lewis Carroll married to the crazy, albeit oftentimes a little too dark for me, imagination of Burton worked perfectly.

geeks and dogs, just another day...

2010-10-31T21:30:00.000-05:00

My husband and I stayed up last night making jokes about how popular it is to use Schrodinger's Cat thought experiment in movies and tv and how incorrectly they use it. Then I pointed out how I couldn't imagine very many other couples extracting this much pleasure from a quantum mechanics explanation misapplied. After a brief discussion of how completely geeky we are, we then lamented on how geeks are actually misrepresented as nerds and the distinctions between the two. It was at this point that I realized how perfect we are for each other and went to sleep rather contented.

Chewy has grown since this picture, but it's so cute...

Oh! I almost forgot! We have a dog now! Her name is Chewbacca and she's perfect. I've been wanting a dog and she just fell right into our laps. She was my parents' but we dog-sitted (dog-sat?) her quite a bit and my parents saw how well she fit into our family, how the kids loved her, how she loved our huge yard and how much I appreciated having her in the house when my hubsters was gone. They said if we wanted her they would give her to us. Of course we couldn't say no. Did I mention she's perfect?

1667 words every day?!

2010-10-31T00:29:00.000-05:00

NaNoWriMo starts tomorrow.

I'm a little nervous only because I'm afraid of failing and I HATE when I tell people I'm going to do something and I don't.

I guess I should stop being a ninny and just do it. *big, deep breath* Okay then.

50,000 words...your butt is mine.

♪♫ you're so vaaaaaaaaain...you probably think this post is about you, don't you? ♫♪

2010-10-28T21:20:00.002-05:00

Vanity's been on my mind as of late.

My husband is the most unvain person imaginable. I strive to attain his level of mastery, though I fear it is just something you are, not something you become. He doesn't care about what others think about him because it never even crosses his mind that they would. It's a non-issue for him. I don't know how he does it, but it's enviable.

Pablo Picasso - Girl in front of mirror

Not so with me. I am so concerned about not concerning myself with what others think that I base some of my decisions solely on what "everyone else" is not doing. When I was little I would change my order if anyone at our table ordered the same thing I was wanting. I loved Jeep Wranglers until everyone else did. In church, if someone says, "Let's all lift our hands," I won't. I can't.

But isn't that still vanity? alterno-vanity? or maybe anti-vanity? Whichever it is, it is still basing my decision on what someone else thinks. And I'm not sure that's any better.

When I was in high school I revolted at the idea of people dying their hair to hide the gray. I thought the practice deceitful and the people who did it insecure. (I know, harsh, but when we're teenagers, don't we know everything and call it like it is?) Well, a couple years ago I died my hair a really dark brown (my favorite hair color, while I was blessed with dirty-dishwater blonde). When I grew tired of the constant re-coloring every few weeks, I started using lighter and lighter colors until I returned to my natural color. When the roots grew out, I noticed a substantial percentage of gray hairs. (I have a great set of early-onset-graying genes.)

I wrote "hair dye" on my grocery list and then suddenly realized that this was a moment. (You know, those times when something monumental reveals itself, and your decision carries with it something more substantial than usual.) Up until now, my hair dying was done only to gradually grow out the dark brown dye. If I bought this next box of Nice-n-Easy, its sole purpose would be gray coverage. I would turn into one of those people I swore I would never become.

All this to say that I've decided to not dye my hair. Part of it is sticking to my younger-self's guns. I really think, that while severe, she understood a truth that I still aspire to. I'm also really adverse to what society has become and though allowing myself to naturally gray will do nothing to fight that monster, it will keep myself from joining that massive Me-Focused Whole.

But at the very bottom of it is the vanity thing. Since most people cover up the evidence of their age, everyone looks younger than they are, thus conversely most will conclude that I am older than I am. Is that really so bad? My vain self screams, "Yes!"

And that's where I am right now. I don't know how else to fight it. When I glance in the rearview mirror and my eyes are drawn to the silver strands on my head reflecting the sunlight like miniature mirrors, I cringe. But then I immediately tell myself, "That's right, Vanity. Deal with it, 'cause it's only gonna get worse."

when it rains...it doesn't?

2010-10-27T20:42:00.000-05:00

It hasn't rained here (NW Houston) for ever. It seems like at least a month or two. I just happened upon this lovely white noise site called, appropriately enough, RainyMood.com. It loops a 30-minute rain sound effect. Extent of site. I find it most relaxing, especially when I'm missing the good ol' soggy Pacific Northwest.

what if...

2010-10-08T00:07:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I wish the Shire was real. Today is one of those times. (And the London Philharmonic would have to play "Concerning Hobbits" in the background. Maybe they could hide behind one of the hills.)

calm in the chaos

2010-08-24T22:43:00.000-05:00

Okay, I will never ever write the words "screw you, morning self" again. Last night, after I finished my blog post, my cocky self was rocked. I won't go into details but I was calling the bank at 3am and then my parents, bawling my head off at 330am. I think I might have been trying to sleep by 430am.

Today I found out that my husband might have to work in Ohio until December. This coupled with a very stressful middle-of-the-night and an almost complete lack of sleep tipped me seriously close to the edge. But God had my back.

Not only did my dear friend, Amy, spontaneously visit (without foreknowledge of my situation and bringing her beautiful children to distract mine and a kombucha starter to distract me!) but my beloved friend, Mel, called at nearly the same second I got the heart-rending husband-less-months-ahead news. One friend to calm me, one to keep me distracted and then another darling friend, Beth, wanted to make sure I was okay through the medium of Facebook (and although we're great friends, we've both been rather quiet these last few months with various life situations which makes the "reach out and touch" moment that more weighty). Three vehicles to deliver God's love and assurance that I wasn't alone. I didn't contact even one of them to let them know I was so distraught. How amazing is that? And that's not counting my husband's texts and my mom's calls.

I don't believe in coincidence. I believe I'm loved.

...and the one the LORD loves rests between his shoulders. Deut 33:12

taking charge

2010-08-24T02:35:00.000-05:00

I could have been sensible and wise. I could have went to bed three and a half hours ago, at a decent time. But I didn't. Instead I started at 10pm and watched all four episodes of the mini-series The Buccaneers. My morning self will hate me, that's for certain. But if I did everything to please her my life would be blah-dom. So tonight I said "screw you, morning self" and did what I pleased. Sometimes you've just got to put your morning self in her place.

(I know her well, though. She won't take this lying down. Tomorrow there'll be some changes, that's for sure.)

transparency

2010-08-20T00:15:00.000-05:00

My husband has been traveling a lot. Tomorrow is the 5th week and next week is the last of his commuting to Manhattan on Monday and then back Friday night. I'm tired and just realized in the last few days that I'm lapsing into survival mode. I don't want to cook. I don't want to clean. I don't want to blog or do anything that uses my brain. I don't want to exercise. I don't want to make my kids do their school. I just want to escape through novels, movies, or mind-numbing internet time wasting. (i.e.- My daughter is grounded from the computer for the week and in order for her to get this certain pig for logging on to Happy Pets 14 days in a row I'm having to do it for her. And I'm doing it! Sometimes even twice a day I will feed, clean and play with her little virtual animals. How depraved is that?)

I know I have only a short time left but it's always the last bit that's the hardest. When it gets like this my auto response is to clear my schedule and quit all commitments. I don't want anything going on that I have to do. The idea of having to get all five of my kids ready for something and be somewhere by a certain time overwhelms me.

I'm at my parents' house in San Antonio right now. It's over 100 every day and I have no a/c in my car. (long story) In order to get back tomorrow without getting sick from the heat, I have to leave by no later than eight am. Eight AM! It would be best if I could leave by 6 or 7 but that's pertneer impossible. Eight is even pushing the reality barrier.

But I've got to. My favoritist person, my best friend, the absolute love of my life is coming home tomorrow night and I must see him. There is no option. It would break my heart to miss a second of his weekend time home. So it's tomorrow morning, eight o'clock. 8:00am even though everything in me revolts at the thought of waking up earlier, getting the kids around and packing up the car to leave in time.

I'm realizing that this has just been a one of those therapeutic, verbal puking sessions. I shouldn't post it. Especially if I want to maintain the facade that most bloggers keep: My life is peachy keen and even the bad things are funny. Ha, ha ha!

But to keep this honest I will hit the "PUBLISH POST" button. This is me, folks. And right now ain't so hot.

goodbye, sweet death machine

2010-06-15T23:01:00.002-05:00

We're selling our beloved Honda CBR, the bike I learned to ride on.

Some guy's picking her up tomorrow. I'm so sad. Her beautiful red body always made my pink Doc Martens pop.

What's worse is that I got to know her intimately tonight. My hubsters cleaned out her carburetor, changed her spark plugs and fuel filter and I helped him put her back together. I may not know the names of all the tubes and parts or even what they do specifically, but I think now I could put her back together starting with the carburetor.*sniff, sniff*

And then when she roared to life...it broke my heart. I just wanted to take out her to the interstate and open her up. Let her do her thing...and try not to kill myself.

That low rumble of idle...the high whine of speed...I'll miss you, Zinger.

husbandly advice

2010-06-15T22:41:00.000-05:00

"I never hold back on sneezes, Tricia...it could kill you." - Douglas Potter

Texas: an Oregonian's view

2010-05-25T23:54:00.007-05:00

In September 2008, I left my home state of Oregon for SE Texas. Since then, I've noticed a few differences between these states. Here are the biggest ones (Their order is based on when they popped from my brain to the keyboard.):

1. Where once I saw ~~Priuses~~ ~~Prii~~ Prius cars and Subaru Outbacks, now the streets runneth over with Hummers, motorcycles (without helmets!) and Corvettes, with nary a hippie car to be seen. (Seriously, I haven't seen one Outback since moving here. Not true for the steakhouse though.)

2. Instead of your choice between 6 Starbucks, 8 hip little local chains, 11 stand-alone drive-thru shacks, and 4 independent fair trade shops with organic beans roasted in the back in a recycled barrel, my coffee choices are reduced to McCafe, the one Starbucks in town or the one independent coffee shop that will probably be going out of business soon because everyone would rather have a Sonic cherry-limeade anyway.

3. The variety that is missing in coffee is made up for in doughnuts. While College Town, Oregon could support only one doughnut shop (In ten years I witnessed the failure of three separate ventures, one right after the other, and recently the sole survivor just threw in the towel.) Our Small Houston Suburb has six and they are all fiscally sound.

4. Texans are apparently very self-conscious about their nails. I did a search on my NavCenter in my car and in a 1/2 mile radius there were 15 nail salons, not including full-service hair salons. These were strictly nail places. I honestly can not remember one salon solely for nails in Oregon. Every strip mall, no matter the size, has a donut shop and a nail salon. Okay, that's not exactly accurate, but it's surprising how many of both there are.

5. If you find a sidewalk you are one lucky critter. Most of the small, old downtowns have them and a few subdivisions, but in general, the few people you see walking are in the grass on the shoulder. The reason I'm given: It's hot. Come on people! It's too hot for three, maybe four months of the year. The rest of the time it is perfecto! For every vehicle road, Oregon has about four other ways to arrive there under your own power and without causing increased carbon emissions. And all that with only about three months of dry weather per year. This is probably the main difference between the two places that really bothers me.

6. Feelings about children - In Oregon, children are a way to ensure that someone carries on your ideals for planet-tending. You really only need one for that and it can still be a positive experience if you branch out and have two. But that's the limit. Anymore than that and you are condemning our sweet Mother Earth to an early grave. And apparently it's best to roll your eyes or glance disapprovingly at anyone who doesn't conform to your ideal in the hopes that this will alert them to their error and keep them from repeating it. In Texas, on the other hand, many people actually think of children as a blessing, something to cherish for their own sake, even in large numbers, and they appear to admire a mother who can sanely care for them all.

7. Texas is flat. Really flat. Not Kansas-flat, but compared to Oregon...flat. They have a "Hill Country," but that is, shall we say, a bit of an exaggeration.

8. In Texas, everything stings, bites or irritates. Fire ants, coral snakes, nettles, gigantic red wasps, scorpions you name it. Oregon has a lot of these things but they are the benign versions. I used to get irritated with sugar ants because they would make a trail along the baseboard of my wall. Now I have to deal with mounds of fire ants that, once disturbed, form an attack wave thousands strong. It's like they took the slightly annoying innocent bugs of the Northwest and dosed them with Venom's symbiote goo. Now they are bigger and stronger with evil intent.

9. They really do say "y'all" here. A lot. But they most assuredly do not tell me to "come back now, y'hear." I purposely say "you guys" (that's my independent streak (read: stubborn) coming through) but y'all is a mighty useful phrase and I know that my y'all-less days are numbered.

10. The sun shines most every day. I was born on the Oregon coast, moved to the Willamette Valley for college and then settled down to raise my family there. I know rain and I know overcast. Intimately. I mean, I got a degree in atmospheric science. Gloomy, gray months just meant snuggly cups of tea and lots of good books. And if I wanted to get out, I'd just understand that I'd be wet. That was life. Then I moved to a land where, on average, there are three more months of sunny skies. It's only taken a year and a half and now I'm accustomed to sunshine. We recently returned to Oregon for a few weeks and the dreariness really got me down. What!? Only 18 months to undo thirty-one years of acclimation?! Ridiculous but true.

There you have it. Our Small Houston Suburb vs Oregon College Town. I miss certain parts of Oregon, but to be honest, I love it here. (The half-the-price-of-Oregon real estate doesn't hurt.) And now our family gets to explore a whole other side of the country. It's awesome. We've met real Cajuns and have seen the sun set parallel with the beach. We've tasted fried pickles and can spot a fire ant nest from across the yard. What else is in store? I'll keep y'all posted... (I know, that was cheesy wasn't it?)

it was there all along

2009-09-26T01:35:00.006-05:00

I've found it. Proof that aliens are here on the planet. Compare these two pictures. One is a real alien skull. (Yes, it's real, I found this picture on the internet with the caption "Real Alien Skull." That's all the proof I need.) The other, a profile of Victoria Beckham. Coincidence that they are perfect matches? I don't think so. Go with your gut on this one. You've noticed how Posh Spice isn't "quite normal" haven't you? How she is always a bit too perfect. Like she doesn't ever look like she lives, but that she is just there. Stilettos every second of every day, not one hair out of place, beautifully perfect clothing at all times. She is masquerading as a human to collect information for her distant planet as well as guarding Earth's most treasured possession, David Beckham's right leg.

Let this be a lesson to us all: Those conspiracy nut jobs are right! Aliens are here. And if they are right about that, they're probably right about everything! (Except the moon landing, Mythbusters busted that one.) Denver airport is a New World Order prison facility/underground bunker. Smoking doesn't cause lung cancer, it protects us from airborne radiation. The US did bring down the twin towers with missile-armed airliners and Lee Harvey Oswald didn't act alone, he had helper buddies at the grassy knoll. (Well maybe not the JFK one, that's just crazy.)

What do we do with this information? I'm not quite sure at this point. But if you ever run into Mrs. Beckham treat her with the utmost respect. If I were you I'd give her a knowing look while slowly nodding my head and then submissively bowing. I'm pretty sure aliens are friendly if we just let on that we know they are superior and we're okay with it.

it's enough to disgust ya...

2009-07-16T08:13:00.001-05:00

Just when I get going again, tragedy strikes. My blogging may have a bare spot for a bit. (Not that you're not used to it.) I turned off the computer before I went to bed last night and the computer refuses to light its little blue lights and whir into action. *sniff, sniff* It's not fair! So I'm off to start the day having snuck onto Dug's computer before he gets up for work. That's my update. See you soon! (I hope.)

an experience only angels have known...

2009-07-14T19:33:00.004-05:00

I have a secret. And while you may think revealing it online with the possibility of millions of people learning it will change my circumstances, I would beg to differ. You knowing my secret means nothing unless you are in a position to affect my situation. More than likely you're not. And so revealing it, doesn't necessarily reveal it. Oh! the irony! But onwards...

I'm willing to share this with you because it will improve your life. Drastically. Are you sufficiently curious? Is your appetite whetted? Very well...

I have found that a dried pear from a bag of Mariani Orchard Delight (snagged at Costco) dipped rather generously in God's almost-perfect nut spread, Nutella (we're talking at least a tablespoon, folks), is sinfully heavenly. Only an oxymoron could be used to describe the marriage of these two ingredients. There is no other way to communicate to you the splendor that your mouth experiences when you cram the entire combination in your mouth in one bite. (And yes, I'm aware that Nutella is made with hydrogenation, hence the descriptor "almost-perfect.")

But technically, that's only half of the privileged information that up until now only I knew. Part B being that I consume this delightful treat in my pantry. Never have I eaten it in the full-disclosure of my kitchen. Once, I brought a sample to the Dug, but he was playing LOTRO and while he commented on how good it was, his focus was not entirely centered on his mouth. Obviously. If he had used even a tenth of his powers of concentration he would have been unable to keep his thoughts on the peril his Captain was currently facing, outnumbered by angry, blood-thirsty Uruk-hai.

And while I do not fear my hubbers having full knowledge of the joy that can be had in the confines of my pantry, I can not allow my children this understanding. That could lead only to certain disaster. I've already had to move the Nutella up and out of sight to keep my shelves from obtaining small chocolate-hazelnut flavored fingerprints during the morning hours of which I'm unable to extricate myself from the comfort of my cream-colored, paisley sateen sheets.

So, now you have full disclosure. And in doing so and sharing the deliciousness that I have come to know, I also make myself vulnerable. You have power. If my children are made aware of this hidden pleasure the current amount of elbow grease I own will not be sufficient for the cleaning that will ensue, which will also decrease the available Nutella, bringing on the wrath of the Dug. For to Dug, Nutella is a sacred spread to be savored, slowly. (Ahhh. Alliteration.)

What will you do with this knowledge? In the words of the Templar Knight, "Choose wisely."

As for me, I'm off to my pantry...

pseudo-insomnia redux

2009-07-11T00:47:00.002-05:00

I'm doing it again. Dug had to go to New Jersey for a training thingy and I should have been in bed two hours ago. Why do I do this to myself?

On another note, I did make cinnamon rolls from scratch, with the kids' help. That's what we had for dinner. Cinnamon rolls and milk. I couldn't handle it everyday, but it's definitely a fun switch from the norm. Don't tell Dug. He'll be sad he missed it. Although I do know that he got to go to Outback Steakhouse so I don't feel too bad for him. We saved three for him, but the kids ate them. What can I say? We tried.

I'm a sucker for a good desktop

2009-04-27T22:29:00.004-05:00

Found a couple wallpaper sites that aren't cheesy and filled with ads.

Pixelgirl Presents has so many it could take you hours to look at them all. They are all over the board as far as theme goes, but I would find it hard to believe there's not something for everyone.

Kindred doesn't have nearly as many, but they are beautiful and are done by "real" artists.

Have fun looking!

"It's a girl" thoughts.

2009-04-25T00:56:00.005-05:00

So I had a baby. It's still a little hard to believe. In my brain, I only think I have four kids, even though my headcounts always number five now. You'd think since the little bundle of sweetness is three weeks old I'd be somewhat accustomed to it. Wouldn't ya? Surprise! I'm not.

I know it's only one kid, but five children to me is a big family. Four, now that's "normal." But five? Five is pushing the envelope. We've just moved beyond. When we had our little redhead, Dug and I found ourselves outnumbered, three to two. When Tank joined us, bumping the total to four, we had one knee for each kid to sit on, one hand to hold each littler one. Five is more than we are physically able to hold on to. We have to let the oldest hand go in order to keep the tiniest one in our grasp. For us that's not too difficult, Dodge is nine now. But it's a new thing. It's a big change. It's beyond.

But of course, I can't imagine life without her. How did we possibly think our family was finished with four? She is the perfect addition. My little dark-haired beauty. Thank you, God, for not letting me have my own way on this one...

evaluating

2009-03-17T23:09:00.004-05:00

I need to post something. This site is my home page so I look at it every time I start Firefox. It fills me with guilt and frustration every time I see its ancient last posting. I'm in the last three weeks of my pregnancy and I'm just too tired to do it. I have so many other things to do and this gets dropped by the wayside. Since I've joined facebook, I keep up with my friends through that. Easier and quicker than posting blogs. But much more shallow and I don't get to really write. My blog is something I really love, but at this point I can't fit it in. Priorities are keeping the house in working order, homeschooling, and cooking. The cooking doesn't sound too hard, except that I feel compelled to cook everything from scratch, for health's sake, and that takes time. Everything else (crochet, reading, checking email and facebook, etc) are things that I can fit into little time slots. Blogging, because I'm a perfectionist and I edit and re-edit, takes an hour or two per good post. (not crappy spur-of-the-moment-no-pictures ones like this) It's just not a priority.

This post isn't an explanation or even an excuse. It's a thinking-through-typing exercise. I'm re-evaluating, I guess. What's important? What has enough value in it that I allot some of my precious and very limited time for? Some decisions I make without really thinking it through. (like watching stupid 80's videos for an hour) And when I'm done I usually feel horrible for doing it.

That's all for now. I'm tired and I need, really need, to go to bed early tonight. I probably shouldn't post something that I just typed without forethought in this sleepy state, but oh well...here goes...*click*

Daring Bakers....Failure!

2009-02-02T20:52:00.001-06:00

This month's challenge is brought to us by Karen of Bake My Day and Zorra of 1x umruehren bitte aka Kochtopf. They have chosen Tuiles from The Chocolate Book by Angélique Schmeink and Nougatine and Chocolate Tuiles from Michel Roux.

This is my first Daring Baker's Failure. It wasn't a complete failure since it tasted good, but, believe me, it was hideous to look at. Hideous. Luckily, I had all the ingredients (meaning: it wasn't expensive) and it was a quick one (meaning: all my time wasn't wasted).

I won't go into too many details, but I tried the Tuiles recipe (we only had to pick one of the three available recipes) and went gluten- and dairy-free for my little buddy, Nadrew. It didn't work. They never got crisp and they just blobbed into ugly masses. Buuuut...they were really good and Nadrew was happy. (see pic at right for proof!)

One of the requirements was to pair the tuiles with something light. I picked Orange Sorbet which I found on Recipezaar. Thank God I did! It was sooo good. You use fresh squeezed orange juice and it tasted exactly like summer. I don't know how else to describe the icy-cold deliciousness that melted in my mouth. The only downside is that we shared the half-gallon with another family of six. Two quarts divided between four adults and eight children is not enough. Trust me. I'm thinking it might just be enough for me and Duggy. Any less than a quart a piece is cruel and torturous.

Here is Duggy rationing out, with his special brand of meticulosity, the beloved sorbet.

Look at the sad, little tuiles. Poor things.
(esp. when pictured with the ultra-superb orange sorbet!)
Less than pleasing to the eye, but luckily quite delicious to the palate!

Bumper Sticker Awe

2009-01-25T23:00:00.000-06:00

I love reading bumper stickers. They can affect me in different ways: laughter, frustration, confusion, a feeling of sympathy for how stupid the driver is. One thing they don't do though is change my point of view. In general I think bumper stickers say what you think, but do little in the way of changing others' ideas.

For instance, I saw the most in-your-face example the other day. While I agree with their view, it was a definite no-holds-barred approach. After I read it I thought, "Ouch! They're not pulling any punches." And I wonder if it will get through to someone or just offend those who don't already agree. Here it is:

"Getting an abortion doesn't make you unpregnant. It makes you the mother of a dead child."

How's that for in-your-face?

I don't really know how to end this post, so I'll do what I normally do: throw in something silly.

My favorite bumper sticker of all time:
"There are no lesbians. Only women who haven't met Chuck Norris."
Sure it's offensive, but gosh darn it, it's also just plain funny.

For the Dug-Mania sweeping the nation...

2009-01-23T22:27:00.000-06:00

I made this wallpaper for everyone of you who can't get enough Dug. After I made it and placed it on my desktop I called over to the Big Man himself, "Hey Duggy, check out what I just did!" He turned from his computer and, after only a moment, responded with, "That is just plain scary!"

All you do is click on the pic, and it will take you to the full-size version. Once there, right-click your mouse and then choose "Set As Desktop Background." At that moment, all your dreams will be fulfilled and you'll have Dug in abundance. (And no comments about his ear, okay? I only noticed it once I had finished, past the Point of No Return.)

(non-disclaimer: I do not have permission to post this. he he he)

Example of when you shouldn't name your company after yourself...

2009-01-21T22:10:00.006-06:00

We pass this business on our way to church every week. It's juvenile, I know, but we laugh every time we drive by. (The kids keep asking us why and we keep ignoring/avoiding their questions.) Unfortunately, the stinking power pole is in the picture, but that's what you get when you have a few seconds to snap a picture driving 55 mph. (In case you aren't very good at Wheel of Fortune, it reads: BJ Services Company.)

Seriously, who would purposefully name their business that? I don't know what this company does, but I assume their name doesn't explain it all. There are two possibilities in my book:
1.) It's been around for a very, very long time, long before the current slang came into being.
2.) The Founder had a very good, albeit perverse sense of humor.

Enjoy it. This is my gift to you...

Another short fave post.

2009-01-08T00:00:00.001-06:00

Baking Obsession is one of the most beautiful baking blogs I've seen. This lady is super talented. (Just look at her white chocolate rose and you'll understand what I mean.) I've tried her gingersnaps and they are the epitome of gingersnap-dom. Absolutely delicious. Seriously, the best ginger cookie that has ever touched my lips. Go to her site. Stare. Drool. Print out some recipes. Bake them.

You will thank me.

Quick little fave.

2009-01-07T00:00:00.000-06:00

Go to Pandora and make yourself a station from the artist Feist. That is the sound that Tricia is liking right now. A lot.

A pine needle isn't that big...until it invites its friends.

2009-01-05T23:06:00.006-06:00

As always: click on any picture to enlarge.

Upon buying our new home, we knew that our walk-behind mower was not going to hack our 1-acre property. We left it in Oregon with our renters. Once here, though, Dug was constantly in Philadelphia until Christmas break. Dug's friend, Chris, heroically stepped up and with his riding lawnmower, took on our post-Ike lawn. As their family and ours cleared tree limbs and anything too big to mow, Chris drove around our slightly wooded lot. Three hours later, our lawn was at the "HOA-approved height."

Stinkin' HOA. By the way, we got our first non-compliance letter! Every house in our neighborhood has a rather large lighted address number sign beside the road. (about 6' wide x 4' tall) The previous owners, for whatever reason, had decided to plant little shrubs at the base of theirs. It must have looked cute in the beginning, but they failed to check the "Mature Height" for these bushes. Yaupon Holly grow to 15-30 feet! They were having to prune them back into a ridiculous shape. (To understand, try this: put both hands in front of you like you're trying to get someone to stop their car, palms facing away from you, fingers held together but your thumbs are sticking out making "L" shapes. Now imagine in the middle of this shape is our house number and your hands are the shrubs.) Why would someone create work for themselves like that? It was ridiculous. The shrubs weren't happy. They wanted to grow tall, but half of their shape was pruned into a right angle. Luckily, at this point they had only achieved four foot in height. The non-compliance was that the address sign wasn't visible from the street. Our solution: rip the dang stuff out. No more pruning, no more worrying, no more visibility issues. Problem solved!

Back to my original post:
Dug knew that in the summer he would have to mow the lawn about once a week. Three hours every weekend to mow the lawn? Not going to happen. He did his research and found the Beast. I'm serious. It is as wide as a small car. The Turf Tiger by Scag. Rowr!! (Notice the tiger stripes on the wheel well. Methinks this takes the "tiger" theme a bit too far.) This baby has a six-foot deck (That's the mowing width. Don't feel bad, I didn't know either.) and can achieve 12 mph. It's a zero-turn, which means that he can do pirouettes in place atop his grass-eating monster. With this baby, our lawn only takes an hour. We even found a nice place for the kids to get a ride. (See Princess Cutie Pops, there?) Behind him is the sweeper. It's picking up the pine needles that fell between the first mow and now. Which brings me to the real point of this post, beyond the introduction of our Turf Tiger!

Below, you'll see various needle/leaf piles dumped by the sweeper. What do we do with them? No yard debris bins here. You either throw them in bags and put them on the curb or...burn 'em! Back in Oregon we could only burn three days in April each year. Here in Texas, living in the county, we get to burn whenever we want! Woohoo! Bring on the bonfire!

Here's Dug, feeling that special feeling that men do when they are staring at something that they have lit on fire. Look at those boys. You know in their heads they're thinking, "What else can we burn?"

What we didn't realize is how long it takes an acre's worth of pine needles to burn. Three hours later, the piles were finally reduced to one glowing, smoldering heap. Periodically, until we went to bed, Dug and I would go out and turn the pile and it would catch aflame all over again. We would stand and stare, there is something almost mesmerizing about fire, especially at night, and then go back in.

I'm liking Texas...

Book Challenge Results

2009-01-02T20:06:00.003-06:00

This past year I took part in two book challenges: The Year of Reading Dangerously and Orbis Terrarum.

The Year of Reading Dangerously was all about taking on books that you have been avoiding. Books that you deemed too difficult, not your preferred genre, or, as it turned out in my case, didn't interest you at all. While I didn't finish this challenge I did get through a few books that I wouldn't have otherwise, plus I have a few that are now on my "To Read" list.

Finished:

Great Expectations by Charles Dickens (loved it)
The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison (hated it)
Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood (not my usual pick, but enjoyed it mostly)
Transformations by Anne Sexton (strange, don't know why it was published, interesting)
Maus I and II by Art Spiegelman (excellent)
The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James (long, but good read)

Didn't Read:

Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (not going to)
The Chocolate War by Robert Cormier (tried the first few chapters and have no interest)
Other Voices, Other Rooms by Truman Capote (started it, became overdue, will probably try again some day)
The Secret Lives of People in Love by Simon Van Booy (have to buy it since our library doesn't have it, "To Read")
The Human Stain by Philip Roth (want to try it)
The Grapes of Wrath by John Steinbeck (need to read it for Great American Literature's sake)

Orbis Terrarum challenged me to read books from authors around the world. Highly interesting to me and the only reason I didn't finish is because I had to buy some of the books (which didn't happen) and the last half of the year was entirely not reading conducive. Every book on the list that I didn't read, I will get to as soon as possible. (Some books doubled for both challenges, I've only listed the ones specific to the OT challenge.)

Finished:

Dubliners by James Joyce (okay read the first time, want to read it again to understand it better)
The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom (the most impacting book I read this year, hands down)
Infidel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali (sad, heart-wrenching, inspiring, makes you want to help change the world)

Didn't Read (but really, really want to):

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino
A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe
The Old Gringo by Carlos Fuentes

So what did I learn? I'm a very "of the moment" reader. What I mean is that I'll only read what interests me at the time. If I can pick out the books, then I'm more excited to read them. If I have a chosen-for-me list, I'm not. I am not going to read a book that I don't like when the only reason is to mark another down on the "Finished" column. Life's too short to read crappy books. (and by that I mean crappy to me)

And that is my reflection on my undertaking of these two challenges.

The End.

A Tardy French Yule Log

2009-01-01T22:07:00.009-06:00

It's Daring Bakers time! (This was supposed to post between the 25th and 28th of Dec, but you know...)

This month's challenge is brought to us by the adventurous Hilda from Saffron and Blueberry and Marion from Il en Faut Peu Pour Etre Heureux. They have chosen a French Yule Log by Flore from Florilege Gourmand.

While it's called the seemingly benign French Yule Log, I think it would be more aptly named, "What Happens When the Indecisive are Forced to Answer the Question 'What is your favorite dessert?'"

Seriously. This baby is four desserts that could completely stand on their own, but noooooo, someone thought it would be best to combine them. From a work standpoint: whine, whine. From the standpoint of eating said dessert : brilliant!

I could try to explain it, but I know, and you know, that it wouldn't make as much sense without a picture. So for your viewing enjoyment and french dessert knowledge enrichment: here she is in all her multi-dessert layer glory. (Just click the picture at right to enlarge.)

What you need to know if you want to make this:

The recipe is here.
Double the icing recipe.
If you sub the rice-krispies, only use about 1/2 cup.
The creme brulee cooked between an hour and a half and two hours, not the one hour they "suggested."

The best part was that the entire thing was written in metric! I got to use my scale for every measurement. It was awesome. No dirty measuring cups (because there were enough pots to clean, let me tell you) and no guessing on anything. I think I'm going to try more European recipes from now on.

Remember when you were taught metric in school and everything was divisible by the beautiful and super-easy ten and you asked your teacher, "Why don't we use metric? It's so much easier." and she gave you some lame-butt answer about how expensive it would be to change, blah blah blah, etc.? Cooking with metric will bring you back to that same question, "Why?!?" Believe you me, it was heaven. (Well, if you're the nerdy, love-efficiency type like me, that is.)

To end I'll leave you with the label-less version of the cross-section. Because I know you want one last look...

Where, oh where has that Tricia-girl gone?

2008-12-15T21:06:00.003-06:00

I have a dilemma. I really love blogging. (You should see the quantity of "blogging pictures" on my camera, just waiting for their 15-seconds of fame.)

I also really love spending time with my husband, be it taking down the forces of darkness in LOTRO or catching a few downloaded episodes of Heroes, Life, Chuck or 24. The time slot available for both is the few hours between the kids going to sleep (as opposed to being "tucked in") and us following their example.

Do you see the conflict?

Don't worry, this isn't a Why-I'm-Giving-Up-Blogging post. It's more an exposition on my serious lack of blogging updates.

See, Duggy's home. He's really home. (At least for a few more weeks.) And I'm spending as much down time with him as I can. Blogging can't measure up to that.

So if you're wondering why it's so slow as of late...wonder no more, because when he's called back to the Computer Frontier that's when the Endless Pursuit will fill the quiet hours of my evening once more.

Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting OR Better late than never

2008-11-30T16:24:00.002-06:00

I was supposed to have this posted yesterday, but due to some technical issues with the ridiculous Windows Movie Maker, I couldn't finish until today. (No comments from the "If you wouldn't procrastinate" people, please.)

This month, the Daring Bakers challenge was hosted by Dolores of Chronicles in Culinary Curiosity, Alex of Blondie and Brownie, and Jenny of Foray into Food. And what was this challenge? Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting bearing from Shuna Fish Lydon of Eggbeater, as published on Bay Area Bites. (whew! total mouthful there...hmmm and yes, I've decided that pun was intended.)

If you know me, you would understand how incredibly excited I was about this one. In the end it was mostly about caramelization of sugar and not so much about caramel, but it was still fun, even though it wasn't this mountain of caramelicious nirvana that I dreamt of.

Instead of a boring write-up, here's a "magical" video of what happened... (and what does caramel cake have to do with Riverdance? Only one thing that I know...they are beloved by me.)

thank God we are a computer-y house

2008-11-20T22:35:00.006-06:00

I screwed up. This little bubble popped up in the bottom right corner of my monitor and it demurely asked if I would like to update my bluetooth mouse/keyboard software. Without thought, I responded, "Why yes, little bubble, I would like the newest and best for my computer."

That was last night.

I haven't been able to make the mouse move since. Oh, and the keyboard won't connect either. I manually forced the computer off and then turned it back on (always #1 option in troubleshooting aresenal) and it booted. Then up pops the window explaining to me (again), "Now all we need to do is restart that darn mouse of yours. Just follow these three easy steps..." And that's where it's been for over 24 hours now.

Something is flawed, but wait!!! My husband is one of the greatest computer geniuses alive at this moment. No, I'm not exagerrating. Well, maybe I'm making unsubstantiated claims, but if you know him personally, you'd understand. Anytime I have a problem, and I'm pretty tech-savvy, he just has to walk into the room and all electronics bow to his unspoken will. Sometimes he doesn't even have to touch the trouble-maker and it will snap into shape.

Wellllll, I called Mr. Dug (he's in Pennsylvania this week) and explained my horrifying situation. His response?
"Tricia! Don't you remember when you updated SetPoint last time?! This same thing happened and it took me forever to figure out the problem! Stop updating!"

My response: "Ummm...I think I remember, vaguely. But just think *spoken extra cheerfully* now you know how to fix it and it won't take so long this time...right? he he" *laughter dying slowly away*

So that's where I am right now. I can't access my pictures because I downloaded them all to my hard drive previous to the mouse/keyboard fiasco. Dug takes the USB mouse with him to work on his laptop, so I can't use that one.

That's my cloud. Luckily, there's a few silver linings.

Silver lining #1: Duggy and I both have our own desktops. So I can use his to check email, facebook, and create boring, personal photograph-less blog posts until his return.

Silver lining #2: Duggy comes home tomorrow. He is my Calgon.

Silver lining #3: Before I started the update, I had begun the new Lord of the Rings: Mines of Moria download. Even though the mouse and keyboard were disabled, the download finished and when Dug fixes my little "problem" we'll be ready to unleash some terror in the Mines. (The download can take a few hours, so it's awesome that it completed.)

In case you were wondering, I did learn my lesson. Those little bottom-right screen bubbles are not harmless, benevolent creatures. They have an ulterior motive. And when I figure it out, they are all going down!!

PEBKAC...for those who don't know.

an Oregonian can only stand so much sun

2008-11-11T21:18:00.005-06:00

It rained today.

All day.

Cats and dogs, the saying goes. The kind of rain that comes with an Oregon winter storm. Rain that is pouring so hard that the gutters are shooting water out like hoses. It was warm enough to wear shorts and t-shirts while the thunder rolled; I was definitely in Texas. But from inside looking out...I was back in Oregon.

I needed that.

I was drying out.

Amigurumi Fun!

2008-11-10T13:31:00.003-06:00

When I'm not working on my babette blanket, my crochet lately has taken me to the magical world of crocheted Japanese stuffed animals or Amigurumi. I let the kids all pick an animal since they are such a quick thing to whip up. They picked a monkey, a bear w/honey pot, a sandwich cookie and a jellyfish. Unfortunately the cookie and jellyfish are MIA, so no pictures of my handiwork there. But you can see them at a wonderfully cute blog I found which features the patterns I used. (Click on "patterns" under the labels section on the right to see all her patterns.) The mouse is for a dear now-four-year-old friend and as soon as I whip something up for her sister whose birthday is fast approaching, will be sending them both off.

The monkey came from a pattern book that I bought about 4 years ago. And yes, the pattern has its arms that long. The nose didn't come out right though. Looks a bit cow-ish to me, but Tank doesn't seem to mind.

Scoochy wanted the bear and honey pot. Also she asked if we could add the bow. How could I refuse such a cute addition? And yes, the head is supposed to be that big. :-)

Here's the little mouse. I think it is the cutest amigurumi I've made. Took this picture and then remembered that I wanted to add a bow but the picture turned out so cute I decided to show you anyway.

Miss Cute Mouse with her bow. Now she's ready for the ball.

the shnozberries taste like shnozberries!

2008-11-09T23:58:00.002-06:00

I snagged the title banner picture for my kids site, Shnozberry Patch, off the internet a long time ago. (Thank you talented, unknown photographer of beautifulness.) I just found out that the plant that I thought encapsulated what a Shnozberry should look like is really called American Beautyberry. And it grows wild here in Texas!!

We thought it would be fitting to have some of our own, so we sowed some berries that our friends gave us out by our fence. Hopefully, our entire backyard fence will be covered by them in a few years.

Just thought you might like to know that we'll soon (relatively, anyway) have our own Shnozberry patch in our backyard!

Get off yer butts! It's election day!

2008-11-04T13:29:00.002-06:00

All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing. -Edmund Burke

Don't take for granted the freedom paid for by hundreds of thousands of soldier's lives throughout the history of our nation.

VOTE!

tour time!

2008-10-29T00:00:00.001-05:00

First off, today is the reveal day for Daring Bakers and I'm not ready. Apologies, apologies, but don't worry. I'm not skipping this month, it's just delayed. With the unpacking and cleaning and registering with various governmental agencies and dealing with debris from the hurricane, the only time I could have made it was yesterday and Dug is traveling for work and it is his favorite food(it's pizza!!). So since he returns Thursday night, we'll have it for dinner on Friday and then you'll get a post on it soon after. Okay? I'm sure the magnanimous Powers-That-Be of the Daring Bakers will give me that one concession.

Onward.

While I'm supposed to tell you the many interesting differences between Oregon and Texas, I've decided to just give you a little outside tour of my house instead. I'm not quite happy with my pictorial representation of the differing cultures yet. Soon.

You only get the outside because the inside isn't quite ready to be snapped yet. I won't wait until the decor is perfected (or even hanging on nails that weren't already there) but I do want to at least have the empty boxes dealt with first.

Enough said.

Here is the first view of the front of our house when you turn into our driveway. Isn't it huge?! This is what buying real estate in Texas is. Way under half-priced compared to Oregon's market. We purchased this for a manageable sum. The same house in Portland would be a million or more. (We didn't/couldn't pay anything close to that, believe me.) Please understand I'm not bragging at all. I'm astounded and am only just starting to begin to believe that we actually live here. I still can't believe how cheap houses are in this part of the country.

Looking at the picture above, see the little walkway that my kids are riding their bikes on? This next picture was taken on the right by those little bushes and facing the street. We loved this lot because it had some seriously easy yet nice-looking landscaping and also because it is wooded. It gives us a bit of privacy. You can just see the greyish-white road through the trees

If I continue along the walkway, I come to the garage/driveway side of the house. My very first garage that I can park in! It's so exciting. The windows are black because they have this sun-blocking screen on them. Apparently it helps keep the heat out in the summer. The driveway is nice because it's big enough to turn around in even if someone is parked in it. Our first HOA (Home Owners' Association) no-no is that we keep our garbage in sight from the road. Seriously, though, do they expect me to keep that stinky thing in my garage? I don't think so. They've got some massive cockroaches here. (Mej is my witness.) No way, no how is non-poisonous roach bait going to be inside any part of my house.

Continuing around the house, do you see the electrical boxes in the photo above? Well, there'a little walkway right next to them, leading to the back patio. If we followed it our first sight would be one of our two injured trees, bruised and battered by Hurricane Ike, our bottle-brush bush. It couldn't stand the 100+mph winds and bowed to their strength. Dug and I tried to tie it up to the tree but it was too heavy to get it straight. Our next step is to hook up a strap to the big ol' Dodge and force that baby up. We really want it to be happy. It's rather pretty in bloom.

This is the back of the house. We have a lovely patio that is strewn with pinecones and long pine needles and other such plant debris from Ike. With the moving and slight yard maintenance (with an acre lot we actually need a riding lawn mower) that we are capable of at this moment, sweeping the walks, driveway and patio is not up there on the priorities list.

When we first looked at this house in June, we noticed the outside fan and thought, "That is so awesome!" What we didn't notice was that if you look behind it (I've circled it in red.) there are outdoor speakers wired into the living room! How cool is that?! I called Dug (he was in Pennsylvania at the time) and let him know. Funny, isn't it? We didn't even know about it before we moved in.

These last two pictures are two of the plants in our backyard. They are beautiful and I'm so happy they are so well established. They are huge. I only know that one is an Elephant Ear (the bottom one I think) but I don't know what the other one is. Of all the plants in the yard, these two are by far my favorites.

And that's it. I'm not great at housing or landscape pictures, but it gives you an idea where we landed. Probably the best thing to do is come and visit us. Then you'll get a real "feel" for the place. *hint, hint*

Brain-teaser/Quiz/Game Time!

2008-10-21T22:00:00.000-05:00

Try this little quiz out. It's enough to make your eyes cross and give you vertigo, but it's fun and challenging.

You want to put the rows in order based on hue. The best score is a 0 and in my demographic, the worst score was over 1700. I scored a 7! Let me know if you beat me!!

the road less traveled...well, twice traveled

2008-10-20T20:41:00.011-05:00

I had already written a few paragraphs of our story of moving when I accidently closed the window and lost it all. (My mouse is in its charging dock and I'm trying to navigate my browser using only my keyboard. Lesson learned: Ctrl + N is New Window, not Ctrl + W. I could have Alt+F'd it to pick from the File list, but I was trying to be Super Smarty-Pants Memory Girl. They really shouldn't make those so easy to confuse.)

I really don't have the heart to rewrite it so here's the gist: Wanted to leave Friday morning, at the crack of dawn, for various side-splitting, very cleverly written reasons, we left Saturday evening, at the crack of dinner-time. End of gist.

Since Dug accrues massive Marriott points from his plentiful travel, we really only stay at the Marriott Brand of hotels. This, while very thrifty, is somewhat limiting. For example, our first night we had the choice of Medford, 4 hrs away or Sacramento, 9 hrs away. (We were taking the south on I-5/east on I-10 route again.) Nothing in the middle. Of course, since we didn't leave my brother's apartment (We were there after we left our house so Dug could shower and we could eat.) until sometime after 6pm, we decided that Medford would be an ample drive that evening. And it was.

Oh! I forgot one major, super-important detail. Dug was driving our blue diesel Beast, with our sweet Honda CBR in the back, pulling a little U Haul trailer. This left all four sweet, little angel children with me in the van. But don't worry, I wasn't alone. And no, I'm not talking about God being my co-pilot. I was being kept company BY MEJ!!!! Sweet, wonderful Mej worked out all the details for her five children to be taken care of for almost two weeks so that she could come on our little adventure! Wasn't that so cool?! Between the two of us we have nine children between the ages of two and nine. Both of us in a van with only four? Piece o'cake!

Sooooo.....First night, Medford. Second night's goal: Valencia, California. We slept well, seven of us in a double queen room. (Don't tell Marriott.) Well, everyone but Mej. She wasn't used to Dug's Darth Vader-like bi-pap machine (for his sleep apnea), but we picked up some Tylenol PM and the rest of the trip was a breeze. So we drove all day and many hours later, around the stroke of midnight, we arrived in Valencia. We were hoping for a good night's sleep, but that wasn't to be. The front desk told us that if we didn't leave by 6am, LA traffic is so bad that we might as well sleep in to 11am. Dang it!

Five and a half hours later, our cell phone alarms woke us up and we dragged our seven butts into our vehicles. And let me tell you, we didn't have to worry about needing coffee. At 6am, LA traffic is frightening. Absolutely life-threatening. I have never been so white-knuckled driving before. Wasn't sleepy at all. It was worse for poor Mej since she was the passenger and could merely watch. And Dug navigating lane changes with a trailer? I don't even want to think about how he did it. Somehow we survived and made it to Palm Springs for some Starbucks and Jamba Juice. The rest of the day's scenery was this: desert, desert, desert, desert, desert, desert, double queen room at Marriott. Well, there were some very big windmills, too.

When you're driving long distances there's a point you get to towards the end where you think you are going to go crazy if you spend another minute in the car. You don't know how you can possibly make it another fifteen minutes, let alone three hours. With the lack of sleep from the previous night, we hit that wall right about dinner time, when we still had about 5-6 hours left in the drive. We stopped for some Chipotle mexican food and the act of walking with the added benefit of decent nourishment gave us just the boost we needed. Thank goodness, because we were in some major need of sleep by that point.

I need to make note of a couple things. I need to give Mej the credit she deserves. While I usually drove until lunch-ish time, Mej drove the rest of the day, which is by far the majority of the driving. Luckily, while I prefer passengering, she is much happier in the driver's seat. And let's not forget Dug. The whole time he was driving the loud, rumbling diesel truck sans air conditioning and stereo, with the added stress of pulling a trailer. He was not only driving the entire way by himself, but he was almost constantly on the phone since he could not have a web presence for four days. And while he was on the phone, he had to have the windows rolled up since the wind was too loud for his cell. No air-conditioning + windows rolled up + driving through CA and AZ deserts = very hot Dug. Poor guy. We may have had the kids, but we also had a GPS/nav system/laser cruise control/Bob Marley on a kick-butt stereo/Nintendo 64/DVD AND zone-controlled a/c. I made sure not to complain.

It took us four days this time. Well, really three and 1/4. But it was fun. Mej and I got to talk about all sorts of girly things while the kids were headphoned into their movies.

We arrived in Houston Tuesday night. We didn't have power, the water was undrinkable, power lines lying across the roads (all the above, thanks to Hurricane Ike) and Dug had to leave at 6am the next morning to grab the next flight to Pennsylvania and save his project. This all sounds bad, except Dug's best friend lives in our neighborhood and his family welcomed us in with their filtered water, their generator and their fridge full of food.

next...Texas through the eyes of an Oregonian.

How to get comments for your posts: Do what comedians do for instant applause and announce your bday/anniversary/big event.

2008-10-15T23:45:00.007-05:00

Okay. So I was supposed to post some pictures on here. And I found a few free moments. Here's the deal though: Dug took off to Pennsylvania and came home. I downloaded (finally!) all the photos from my camera (713 of them!) onto the computer. Our new friends (and only ones within 45 minutes of us) went on vacation. Dug took off to Pennsylvania, again. I decided to take this time of isolation and abandonment and, instead of going to church by myself and getting to know my community and neighbors better, I grabbed my kids and ran away to San Antonio. My parents live there now. I know. Cowardly. But there it is.

Unfortunately, all those great new photos are in Houston and I'm in San Antonio with an empty SD card in my camera. That's why there are no photos today. My youngest son turned four and I could post a few pics, but I'll save those for Shnozberry and just make this a big "excuses" post instead.

I know, just what you wanted to read. Dug says, "Excuses are like holes in peoples' butts. Everyone has one and they all stink." Lovely, isn't it? You have to admit that it's pretty descriptive, though. And true.

So I guess to redeem this post, I'll make it informative rather than excusative. (Is that even a word? I don't think so, but I like it.) Some news: I'm 15 weeks pregnant with my fifth child, we didn't plan it and it's a surprise, but we're happy. We like the name Emma, but we won't know the sex until April.

How's that for post redemption?

some semblance of normality

2008-10-09T00:11:00.000-05:00

After having no power the first week of our Texas adventure (thank you Hurricane Ike!) and then only getting a fridge five days ago (soooo sick of any sort of restaurant) and just getting internet today (I've been dying!) it's been eventful to say the least.

Good news: Our delayed arrival of two days helped since by the time we got here, fuel was back to normal, as opposed to super expensive, super long waits. (up to two hours at one point!) And we actually bought gas for $2.98/gallon the other day! Can you believe it?! And our house is super-freakin' awesome. And the weather is a lovely 80 degrees and sunny... in October!

Bad news: Dug has been working on the East coast practically the entire time. We arrived at 10pm or so Tuesday night and he had to catch of plane at 6 am the next morning. Of the fifteen days we've been here, Dug has enjoyed three days with his family, only two of which were actual non-working days. The lovely folks in Philly and Boston have seen their share though. (Repeat to self: It's only a season...It's only a season...) After he comes home this weekend, he's off for one more week with those Philadelphians and then back to Oregon to make last touches on our rental and then finally...as far as I know at this moment, he's back home for an extended stay. And four words: cockroaches and fire ants! 'Nuff said. (sorry about the whining there.)

I have some more big news to share but it's late and I'm exhausted and I'm going to bed. I had so much internet-y stuff to do today: online banking, etc. and i only spent a few hours on vital necessities. Even though I wanted to soak up all the info I've been dying to find out, I fed my kids some home-cooked enchiladas and continued the unpacking process.(it never ends, does it?) Aren't you proud of me?

Pictures will be a part of this blog again as soon as I can find some free moments. They're sorta hard to come by. Have any you can loan me?

maybe texas likes us after all...

2008-09-13T14:19:00.000-05:00

Okay. I know it is a bit premature to expect Texas to develop any sort of feelings toward us, but I think after the multiple pre-dawn wake-up calls, things are turning around. Granted we haven't even left Oregon yet, but I have a super-bright spot of smiley happiness...

Hurricane Ike, which only last night passed directly over our brand new (to us), just closed Texas property, had us checking weather.com every free moment possible. Our friends that live in our same subdivision just reported to us that every property had fallen trees...except ours!! Can you believe it? Our hibiscus was in bad shape and a few shrubs looked like they saw the bad side of a drunk Mike Tyson, but no significant damage otherwise. Praise God!!

And that's that. Thought you'd like to know. Back to packing and painting...

it gets worse

2008-09-10T09:02:00.000-05:00

The Texans are against me.

Dug had to take a 6am conference call. (One of the reasons we're moving two time zones away.) It woke me up and I was just getting back to sleep when my cell rang. It was Texas. It was 6:15am. My water utility was calling:

Chipper Texas Utility Woman: Good morning, ma'am! May I speak to Tricia or Douglas?

Me: Huh? This is Tricia.

CTUW: Umm, did I call too early ma'am?

Me: Well, I am in Oregon and it is two hours difference. (in my head: Even if it wasn't a time change, don't you think 8:15 is a leeetle early to make business calls?)

CTUW: Oh, I didn't know. Yep, here it is on your application: Current residence: Oregon. Woops! Would you like me to call back later, ma'am?

Me: I'm up, might as well get it over with.

CTUW: Well, alrighty then! We received you're application, I just need your credit card information for the $125 deposit...

Me: Wait a sec. I've got to go find my wallet. (in my head: What the crap?! You call at 6am to take my money from me? Is this what I have to look forward to? Smiling to my face while you pick my pocket? Wait, why did I walk into the kitchen? Oh yeah, my wallet...)

More barely coherent jibberish from me, more very chipper, smiley "ma'ams" from her...

***

Since I was up in the ungodly six o'clock hour I decided to dye my hair (I did a really messy job and I might have strangely, mottled-color skin for a few days.) and jot this quick note on The Pursuit.

Oh yeah! We close on our beautiful Texas house today! Hooray! And I *get* to paint the kids' room today! Hooray?!

Update!

2008-08-30T11:28:00.000-05:00

I woke up at the unheard of hour of 8:20 this morning...on my own! Now I know what it feels like to be an early riser!

And, since it's that perfect combination of sunny warmth with a slightly cool breeze and Dug is still sleeping and I'm off the hook breakfast-wise since it's Pancake Saturday and I already walked to Freddy's to buy some eggs and buttermilk for said pancakes and it's still before 10am...for all these reasons and more, I thought I would give you a little update.

I know. I could be finishing up painting the trim in the living room, or packing the last two boxes available before I have to go cardboard-recyling bin diving again, but no! I choose to sacrifice and write to all three of my faithful readers! Don't thank me or remind me how wonderful I am, (yes, that's a nod to you, Dad) there's no reason to. We can all just rest assured knowing that I am fully aware of how magnanimous I can truly be.

On to the update...

The bathroom: We have pretty much finished the plumbing that can be done within the bathroom. There is still a little bit to do with the drain pipes but that is work to be completed through the basement. The bathtub is fully functional with tub filler and shower. (Although to be technically accurate, the shower can't really be completed without the walls being up, which they aren't.) Today we will be attacking the last of the electrical work and putting in the under-floor heating grid. Leaving just the tile work and sheet-rocking before the finishing stuff. Yay! Progress!

The outside of the house: We were going to re-side the house, but then we realized we didn't have enough time. Instead we hired these two neighbor guys to repaint. They are almost done with the priming which means that I have to make a final decision on the colors! Ack!

The kitchen: Our kitchen is a nightmare. It is a conglomeration of 21st century appliances, 1923 cabinetry, 1950's countertops and modern super-cheap particle board cabinets and formed countertops. It contains bright yellow, taupe, white, black, stainless steel and cream. It is somewhat of a hallway kitchen and on the one side is all original cabinetry, complete with a super-narrow, super-short countertop that hits me right at the thigh. The other side has been updated with the cheapest stuff possible to make a super-long, perfect-height counter space. For someone who makes almost every meal that her family eats...it sucks!

The good news: We are having the kitchen redone. Yay! Everything will be uniform and lovely!
The bad news: It is being torn up the weekend before we leave and will not be finished until after we are gone. *sniff, sniff* Oh well. Enjoy it, renters!

Painting the inside: The renter guys told me that they want to repaint their rooms. Hooray! This means that I only have to make sure the trim in each room looks nice. This makes me very happy. Although I did realize that I should repaint the basement, too. At least the common areas. I always forget about it, since we don't live down there. So really I'm back to the same amount of painting again. *heavy sigh*

Packing: It's coming along. I've been out to the hospital twice to get boxes out of their multiple recyling bins. I need to go again. I've been packing stuff that isn't used right now and I've finished 27 boxes! Unfortunately, since it's stuff that's usually stored away, it doesn't look like I've done anything. *another heavy sigh*

That's it. Dug was going to have to travel this week but now he's only going to be gone the week before we move. Still sucky, but not so bad as being gone the two weeks before we move...

We're progressing, but it's a lot like going to college. During my student years, studying was never "finished." You could always study more. It would always be beneficial to understand the material even better. The need to study was always there like a giant flying raccoon that always hovered right behind you no matter where you went.

Moving is like that. Everytime you take a break, you can't really relax 'cause that dang raccoon is there. You can hear his breath and feel the slight breeze made by his wings. He's staring at you, telepathically telling you, "There's more to do." or "If you work now, you won't be so stressed come moving day." or "There's one word for you right now, 'unproductive.'" My only solace is knowing that on 20 September, Mr. Invisible-Non-Existant Flying Rodent will leave me alone and have to pester someone else.

PS I've found a super-cool game for getting your mind off things. It's a challenging, physics-based puzzle game. I know that doesn't sound like fun, but just try it before you judge it, ok? It's Magic Pen!

Who said moving wasn't fun?

2008-08-13T23:56:00.001-05:00

Maybe you haven't noticed, but I haven't been blogging a lot lately. I've got a pretty good reason, too.

We're moving.

We're leaving beautiful (albeit soggy) Oregon behind and setting our sights for hot and sunny Texas. This is happening in thirty-seven days on 20 September. In thirty-seven days we need to navigate the murky, often scary, world of real estate, get our loan squared away, somehow try to understand the 4.2 million papers they ask you to sign at closing at the rate of one document a second (Well, it seems that way, anyway.), coordinate moving all our belongings (and my parents' stuff, as well. Long story, don't ask.) 2427 miles away, packing up said things, organizing shut-off times, turn-on times and everything else associated with changing residences, and make appropriate changes to our current home to make it a rental. But by far, the most stress-inducing thing needing to be checked off our to-do list is.......finish the bathroom!

Yeah, you remember that? It is still sitting there, naked as all get out, dressed only in a whirlpool tub and various pipes. Poor thing. It needs to be complete.

At night, instead of the usual evil man in a semi-truck chasing me and from which I can never escape, my dreams are filled with devilish visions of unfinished bathrooms: The entire house collapsing in on the stud-baring walls, guests trying to "do their business" in the hole we drilled in the floor for future plumbing, finding myself forever trapped in this house, never to escape its half-finished renovation.

The ubiquitous "They" weren't joking when they said that moving is stressful. Not one iota.

That's my explanation/warning. Blogging is in the backseat right now. And not the rear of a sedan. I'm talkin' the seat-in-the-Greyhound-bus-that-shares-its-aisle-with-the-bathroom kind of backseat.

I love blogging. I really do. But I've other responsibilities right now that sneer at the endless pursuit, calling it "frittery" and "time guzzler." And I can't argue. Not at this moment in time. Those other responsibilities may be bullies, but they've got a valid point. I'll have time for blogging in the future, but for the next 37 days...the bullies win.

Filbert Gateau with Praline Buttercream OR How Satan Gets His Kicks

2008-07-30T02:00:00.000-05:00

Consider the hazelnut, or filbert if you prefer. A little package of flavor that God gave us to make our coffee worth drinking. In its humble shell you'll find all sorts of delicious nutrients for your health. But Satan, always trying to manipulate God's perfection into unimaginable atrocities, whispered into an unknown chef's ear "Think how much better this recipe would be if that hazelnut was skinned." From then on, for no reason at all, (Except some claim the skin is "bitter." Grow some, you wussies!) from then on, chefs and bakers the world over have added countless hours to their already busy lives attempting to de-skin the common hazelnut.

Yesterday I made the Filbert Gateau with Praline Buttercream from the cookbook Great Cakes by Carole Walter and submitted by this month's host Chris from Mele Cotte. It took a long time, it was mostly enjoyable and I completed the Daring Bakers' Challenge. But holy crap! Skinning 3 1/2 cups of hazelnuts is something that should only be sentenced to those convicted of crimes against humanity. Seriously. It was only through sheer willpower that I kept going. I felt my sanity waning. I had thoughts of sitting behind bushes and pelting people with half-skinned hazelnuts. I dreamed up plans of training an army of hazelnut-skin-eating chipmunks with those collars around their necks that wouldn't allow them to swallow an entire nut. I almost cried.

With that being said, here's the cake:

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 9 - Justice: Texas-style

2008-07-20T22:59:00.000-05:00

Our road trip to Texas was a fact-finding mission, a reconnaissance if you will, for moving to the area. We stayed with the illustrious Hibbard family and while the kids attended VBS (in the morning and the evening) we would use the time to scope out houses. Our main plan of attack was to drive into an area that looked decent and look for "For Sale" signs. (Very scientific, I know.)

One evening we were driving along one of the highways and in between two driveways was a "For Sale" sign. These driveways were the type that went back pretty far into a forested area so there was no way to tell which driveway the sign went to. It was a little closer to one than the other so we tried that one first.

Right away "No Trespassing" signs started popping up. We hemmed and hawed about whether we should keep going. Our friend put it this way: A "For Sale" sign negates a "No Trespassing" sign. I mean, how can someone sell their house if the buyers can't at least take a peak? So we cautiously continued on. We were about 100 feet in by this point and up ahead a little sign had been pounded into the ground. Pulling up to it, this is what we saw (click for a larger version):

Yeah. For real. Sorry buddy, "I Will Shoot You" trumps a "For Sale" sign any day. If this was in Western Oregon, I might think it was a joke. But Texas? No. Not taking any chances in Texas.

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 8 - How to drive for days and days and days and...

2008-07-17T23:44:00.000-05:00

A few weeks ago we hit the road. Oregon to Texas. 4896 miles round trip! Which, in case you wanted to know, is farther than driving from Los Angeles to Columbia, South Carolina and back again. Not only did we do this with four kids, ages 3 through 8, but we drove each way in only three days! (To put it in perspective, that averages out to 13.3 hrs of driving per day!) It was on this trip that we realized that we are a road trip family. We would rather explore the country through driving than skipping to the destination on an airplane. For us it's just fun. Our kids handle it great (for kids, that is) and even stopping at a rest area is fun. No, really. After driving for a few hours, getting to stretch our legs, read up on area history and trivia (they always have some sort of informational plaque/map of the area to read), clean up the van floor and getting a bite from the snack bag is a welcome change.

We actually drove a similar trip to Alaska a few years ago. Although about 900 miles longer, the Texas drive went much smoother for a couple reasons. Here's a little table to explain why:

	Alaska 2005	Texas 2008
Children’s Ages	1-6	3-8
Kids in diapers	2	0
Transportation	1984 bare bones dodge caravan, all blue vinyl interior with one bright red cloth replacement bench seat in back	2006 loaded Toyota sienna with dvd player and nav-center among other kick-hiney features
Lodging	Slept in van in rest areas and on side of the road	Slept in Marriott for free (perk from Dug traveling so much last year)
Meals (breakfast, lunch, dinner)	Bagels in van, pb&j in van, dinner out	Jamba juice and bagels in van, pb&j in van, dinner out (somethings don't change)

Can you guess the biggest factor? (Hint: the one with the 2 in the row)

The biggest surprise to me on this trip was the fact that even though we have a DVD player built into the roof of our van, the kids only watched about two movies a day. Once during the day and then once when it was their bedtime but we were still driving. They just weren't that interested during the day. I was so proud of my little guys.

So what did they do? Well, before we left I got on the magical interweb and did some research ('cause, you know, that's just what I do) and I looked for anything and everything that would keep kids busy for 72 hours in a car. (One really awesome website, MomsMinivan.com is, as the Brits say, brilliant!) I printed off a bunch of paper-based games, typed out a list of activities requiring brains only and brought along crafty stuff.

The number one best thing I brought was...*drum roll*...pipe cleaners!! I know, can you believe it? The kids loved them. By the end of the trip they had gone through close to 800 pipe cleaners! I bought the big multi-color packs and literal hours were spent creating little fuzzy sculptures. And I'm not talking about the thirty minute spurts that seem like an hour. I mean real hours.

The kids each made a bird cage, complete with bird, and hung it above their heads. The van was filled with princess hats, glasses, magic wands, pinwheels, cupcakes, chili peppers, people, cats, penguins, chickens, musical instruments, and more all made out of pipe cleaners. At this very moment, Dug the Dog, our van mascot is sitting playfully and loyally on our dashboard. He was made the first day and only once (when we were back in Oregon and driving through the windy Columbia River Gorge area) did he leave his post. If you are going on a road trip, go to a craft store, throw down the six bucks and buy a 500 pc multi-pack. It is sooooo worth it.

The second most popular items were the sketchbooks and Crayola Twistables crayons. I got each kid a spiral-bound Crayola sketchbook for a couple bucks each and two packages of the Twistables to share. (Twistables are awesome!! They don't break as easy as crayons and they are much easier to hold. They also don't require a sharpener!) Their favorite drawing activity was a game that my brother and I used to play when we were on roadtrips. My mom would say one item at a time and we would have to draw it on our paper. When we were both finished with the item, she would give us another and so on until our papers were filled. For example, she would say "tiger" and we would have to draw a tiger. Then she would say "table" and we would add the table somewhere on the page: under the tiger, in the air, on the tiger, wherever. And an important aspect was the secrecy. No looking at anyone's drawing until they were done. Absolutely no peeking. Finally, when there was no more room or our drawings seemed complete we would have the "Great Unveiling" and hand our artwork over to our mom for her evaluation. When Mom had seen them, she would always write some comment like "Great Job!" or "Excellent" or even just a big smiley face on our drawing. It was so silly but so fun. I decided to share this with my kids and they loved it! And I had so much fun looking at how they had decided to put their drawings together.

The last thing the two oldest kids really liked was Battleship. On the MomsMinivan site I found a printout version and printed out a bunch of copies. (Along with the rules, lest I forget.) It ended up being quite a hit. Oh, and I bought these little $7 lap desks at Michael's for each of them. That was definitely one of my better decisions ever. They used them not only for their activities, but it made eating on the go so much easier. They also fit perfectly over their bottom seat-only booster seats.

Things not so great: tin foil, tic tac toe printouts, books. The tin foil was supposed to be a sculpture building tool. They could use it to make crowns or swans or whatever they wanted. It ended up being too difficult and they mostly just made little balls that they threw around. Big mess. I left the roll in Texas with our friends. As far as tic tac toe goes, I had printed out sheets of tic tac toe squares. The kids played but in hindsight, I didn't need to print them out, the kids can make their own just fine. So it's not that this one was not used, it was just unnecessary. Next time I'll save the paper and just let them make their own.

Last item: books. Now my oldest daughter is an avid reader so this doesn't apply to her. She tore through three novels on the trip. The other kids brought books but they didn't really read them. The one exception being the Encyclopedia of Animals. That one is three pounds and just stock filled with pictures and info. They repeatedly went to that one since there's always something new in it. The little story books were looked at the first day and not again the rest of the trip. I brought books to read aloud but in order for the kids to hear me well I had to be facing backwards and I got a little queasy. Lesson learned: Trips that are only a couple hours are fine for little story books, but if we go on a really long road trip, only really long books will be allowed. Novels or huge books. The others just become van floor fodder after the first day. And, muy importante, don't read while facing backwards.

There's only one more thing you need to know: When you hit the rest area, EVERYONE GOES. Don't let anyone get by with "But I don't have to go." The proper reply is, "I know. But let's just go and see if there is any peepee hiding." If you don't, you will regret it because there is nothing more annoying than pulling back onto the freeway and a little voice from the back whines, "Mommy, I haf to go poddy aftow all."

The Portrait of an Arduous Read

2008-07-16T00:35:00.000-05:00

I was completely unprepared for summer, at least as far as blogging goes. In the winter, especially in Oregon, it is so easy to blog. Nights start early and the weather is hardly conducive to outdoor excursions. The perfect combination for ample blogging.

Then summer hit. Glorious, mostly rain-free, lots-of-sunlight summer. Road trips, motorcycle classes, camping, warm evenings, home improvements...talk about distractions. But here I am. At least today.

And believe it or not...I've got myself some reading done on top of it all. We've been driving a lot. Well, to be honest, Dug's been driving a lot. We've discovered that our family does road trips well when Dug is the driver and I'm the child liason/nav center controller (CL/NCC). As the CL/NCC I get to read a lot.

The last book my book club read (we're on hiatus until Fall) was The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James. We were supposed to read it in May. I, literally, just finished it. Yep, took me 2.5 months! How ridiculous is that?

Since it was such a bear, I've decided to include it as one of my books from the Reading Dangerously challenge. Technically, this is my book for November. Obviously, I'm not doing things in order...

So what did I think of it? Well, it was set in my favorite literature period: late 17th/early 18th century Europe, so I had high hopes. Unfortunately, I found it to be something that I had to force myself to pick up. I don't know if it was the change of seasons or the fact that I wasn't in the mood for that genre or that the book really was just a difficult piece. Whatever the reason, I can say that while Portrait is not my favorite, it did get me by the end.

The story follows Isabel Archer, a young American woman, recently brought to England by her rich, eccentric aunt. Isabel is quite the independent and refuses marriage proposal after marriage proposal in order to protect that freedom. She doesn't exactly know what she wants, but she definitely can see what she doesn't. After a series of events, Isabel finds herself with the means to be completely independent and in charge of her life. We follow her through her decisions and ultimately see the results of her choices. (As well as discover how artfully one can "help" another make a choice without the decision-maker being aware.)

While it took a lot to push though, I found myself by the last tenth of the book really hooked. Yes, you read that right. It took 9/10 of the book to capture my attention. I know that this is considered a classic, (I read "The Modern Library Classics" edition, for heavens' sakes.) but I've got to tell you, I don't know that many would push through 90% of a book for the gripping last 10%. While I loved the characters, I can tell you that I wouldn't have finished it if not for the two following facts: #1 it was one of my book club books and #2 my lovely friend, MamaP, said it was worth it.

So there you go. The Portrait of a Lady by Henry James, it's worth it, if you can hack it.

On the road again...

2008-06-29T10:39:00.000-05:00

We are traveling home right now. Been on a road trip for the last two weeks. All this to expain the silence eminating from the endless pursuit of Life and why I don't have a delicious Daring Bakers post. Sorry my DBers, until next month....

what's that they say about your plate and it being full?

2008-06-12T02:19:00.001-05:00

I'll update again. I promise. I've gotten myself a lots to do. And blogging isn't making the cut. I'll give you a hint at one of those things keeping me busy though...

click here

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 7 - The Last of Kruger

2008-06-03T02:05:00.000-05:00

This is final round-up of our Kruger safari. It's a bit long, but that's mostly due to lots of pictures. Click on the picture for a bigger version.

This is our thatched roof cabin. We stayed in Skukuza camp during our Kruger visit. (If you click on the link, Skukuza is NW of the green word "PARK" in the southern part of the map.) There were two rooms, each with their own bath, with a central living room/dining room and a fully-equipped kitchen. The best part is that the camp gates opened at 5:30am while the outside park gates weren't opened until 6:30am. Those who stay at the camps get to start an hour earlier! If you go to Kruger, we highly suggest getting a cabin in one of the camps.

On to the animals!
Nyala look a lot like kudu with their striped backs but they've got bearded necks. I guess they knew their small spiraling horns couldn't compete with the kudu's super-impressively large spiraling horns and decided to grow some major neck hair to make up for it. And, as usual in the animal kingdom, this male gots himself some females.

This was my favorite lizard. I don't know it's real name, but I always called them Rainbow Lizards. Creative, huh?

The first animals we saw (Even before impala, which is nothing short of amazing. Those things are everywhere!) were these rhinos. They were resting under some trees right inside the gate. This was the closest we got to rhinos the rest of the trip. And look, they do have those birds on their backs all the time. Just like they taught us in school and on Animal Planet.

This little guy is a leopard tortoise. I'll tell you a little secret. Dug got out of the car (a BIG no no) and carried one off the road and placed it into the brush so it wouldn't get hit by a car. He risked attack by some wild predator to save this little reptile. *sigh* My hero!

The only steenbok we saw was this little fella. He was about 50 yards off the road and almost impossible to see until he turned sideways. They're pretty small and quick as lightning, so they're rather hard to find in the brush, let alone photograph.

Take a look at this plant. It is a species of acacia and the elephant's favorite tree to nibble on. Holy crap! The large thorns are 5-6 inches long! No, I don't know how they eat them. (More importantly, how do they pass them? That's what I really want to know. Yee-owch!)

Here we have a vervet monkey. Cute to watch eat berries out of a tree. Cute to watch grooming each other. Not cute jumping on your table and stealing your freshly cooked eggs and potatoes. Not cute when you have to stand guard at your table with a tree branch, trying to keep them away when you really want to eat your delicious, hot meal that your dad and husband just cooked on these cute outdoor wok-things that you rent from the rest area people. Nope, not cute at all.

Warthogs. Uglier than sin. Skittishier (I know that's not a word but it fits.) than a cockroach. I think they have some sort of radar. As soon as we approached they would stick their tails straight in the air and run into the nearest underbrush. No curiosity at all. Their shyness and speed made them difficult subjects to catch on film. (Technically, not on film, but, you know.) This trio lacked the usual crazed bolting. Obviously they've had experience in emergency situations. They knew the motto: "Calmly make your way to the nearest exit."

You will now know how to recognize a waterbuck by my mother's fail-safe method. "Just look at their butts. If they look like they sat on a freshly painted toilet seat, it's a waterbuck!" Congratulations. Now you are one who knows.

I love this shot. It's rather classic-Africa looking. Wildebeest seeking out shade from the mid-day sun, one looks at the camera. Thank you, wildebeest family, for being so obliging.

We drove by and parked at a few watering holes. Finally. Finally, I found one where an animal was actually drinking. I was so thankful for this zebra's thirst. I mean, besides a frontal of an elephant, what says "Africa" like a zebra drinking at the edge of a watering hole? The only thing better would be a crocodile exploding out of the water in the next second. Oh well. Maybe next time.

And that's it. Thanks Kruger! You rock!

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 6 - A Tale of Two Lions

2008-06-01T12:35:00.000-05:00

I finally got my CD-Rom to recognize my Africa CD! So here is another installment of our safari in Kruger National Park in South Africa.

Since we left off with leopards, the next animal on my list is lions! They were so impressive that instead of one shot and description, you get a story. As usual, click on any picture for a larger, more detailed version.

We woke up super early (really! I mean it! 4:30am!) and around 6:30am we noticed a tour truck stopped up ahead. This means that they'd spotted something camera-worthy. As we slowly approached there was a male lion standing in the middle of the road right in front of us! Let's call him Screech. He's the one pictured above, standing in front of the truck.

As we were focused on him a lioness approached from behind us on the left side of the road and almost immediately another male crossed the car in front of us and joined her. Let's call this second male Mr. T. There he is at left. You can see how full of himself he is, can't you?

So now it was time to see what being the dominant male really meant. Before the lioness could make it to Screech, Mr. T blocked her and in lionspeak told her, "Get back from that lesser guy and stay here with a real lion, woman!" (Pictured at right is his blocking maneuver.) After this masculine exhibition, I noticed Mr. T looking across the road towards the brush he had previously walked out from. As I turned to see what he was staring at another lioness appeared right before me, walked not six feet from our car, across the street and Mr. T. "allowed" her to approach him.

Once she was corralled in with the other lioness, a third lioness walked in front of our car from the same spot in the brush and joined Mr. T's harem. Every time a lioness tried to visit the lonely Screech, Mr. T would run his interference play and usher her back to the others. By the end, Mr. T was just sitting there gloating. Obvious gloating. Poor Screech. He just sat there and watched as Mr. T basked in his overabundance of feline femininity. Isn't that how it always is? One guy gets all the chicks while the other guy just wants one? After 45 minutes of this wildlife soap opera, we decided to move on and let them resolve their problems without our prying eyes.

This is the second lioness as she approached on the right side of the car. Isn't she beautiful? It was an incredible, almost frightening moment to look out your window as a lioness silently appeared out of the brush.

Here is Screech as we were leaving. He just gave up. Poor guy. What I really want you to notice is the shape that these wild lions are in. Most of us only see well-fed lions in the zoo that merely have to walk a few feet to their next meal. Wild lions are thin. It amazed me how skinny they were. You could see the back bones on all the lions, moreso with the males. And the scars...you could definitely tell they had to fight for their food.

This is our last picture of Mr. T and his lionesses. Look at him. I really think he's laughing. That little selfish, bad-guy laugh. The understated 'heh heh heh', low and quiet. Sure, we know his progeny will be all over the savannah next year. But he knows that we know...and he relishes every moment!

The Assembly of Decadence...er...I mean...an Opera Cake

2008-05-28T01:52:00.000-05:00

The Daring Baker challenge this month was Opera Cake. (Recipe morphed from the recipes in Dorie Greenspan's Paris Sweets and Tish Boyle and Timothy Moriarty's Chocolate Passion.) It is a decadent, super rich dessert traditionally flavored with chocolate and coffee. As per their prerogative, the hosts, Fran of Apples, Peaches, Pumpkin Pie, Shea of Whiskful, Lisa of La Mia Cucina, and Ivonne of Cream Puffs in Venice, declared that dark flavors/colors were outlawed.

Sooooo...I chose almond and white chocolate! Did I say decadent? Let me just describe the layers:
1. joconde (cake made from almond meal)
2. almond-flavored syrup
3. white chocolate-flavored buttercream
4. joconde
5. almond syrup
6. white chocolate buttercream
7. joconde
8. almond syrup
9. white chocolate mousse
10. white chocolate/almond glaze

Since they say a picture is worth a thousand words, I figured I would just make a little video for you. 37,000 words worth of video! (Credit for the pictures is split between me and my eldest daughter. And yes, that is a couch in the background. The assembly was done in the living room. What can you do when it has the best natural light in the house?)

"life as i know it" meme

2008-05-26T02:26:00.000-05:00

Until now the mysterious blog powers that be have kept me clear from the tagging of silly memes. Apparently, they have removed their protection. Bethany tagged me, so here goes:

Four Jobs I've had:
1. Babysitter
2. Weather Observer in the now-closed National Weather Service Office in Astoria
3. Concession Worker at Oregon State University games
4. Homeschooling Stay-at-home Mom

Four movies I've watched more than once:
1. Lord of the Rings Trilogy (that counts as one epic film)
2. Pride and Prejudice miniseries (A&E version)
3. Princess Bride
4. Starship Troopers

Four Places I've lived:
1. & 2. I've lived in 2 towns in Oregon, that's it.

Four places I've been:
1. Yellowstone National Park
2. Haines, Alaska
3. Mbabane, Swaziland
4. Brussels, Belgium

Four TV shows I watch:
1. 24
2. Scrubs
3. the Office
4. that's it...and I watch all of the above downloaded from the internet.

Four people who email me regularly:
1. Amy W
2. Quentin C
3. Mom
4. Melaroo L

Four of my favorite foods:
1. Mashed potatoes and gravy
2. Curry (anything as long as it's hot)
3. Sushi ( link goes to the best sushi rice recipe I've found)
4. Falafel (link goes to my favorite falafel recipe)

Four places I would like to visit:
1. Ireland
2. Japan
3. Thailand
4. China

Four things I'm looking forward to in the coming year:
1. moving to Texas
2. learning to ride a motorcycle
3. camping
4. finishing the renovation of our house

Four people I've tagged:
1. Liz-dear of Jackson Family
2. Michelle-darling of Daily Happenings of Mr. and Mrs. Smith
3. Paris-sweet of Rambling Rose
4. Kati-love of So Anyways...

Floral Macros

2008-05-22T02:01:00.000-05:00

The flowers this time of the year are too beautiful. I know it is super cheesy but I'm mesmerized by them and love the challenge of capturing their beauty without the photo looking like a greeting card. It's pretty hard and I fail miserably every time. But I keep trying. And have I mentioned that I love my macro lens? I give it the credit for any picture that looks great. Macro lens + flowers = incredible detail.

This is a gorgeous tulip that grows in an abandoned flower pot in the corner of our yard. I didn't plant it. I don't know who did. But it grows every spring. It is probably my favorite color of tulip.

These tiny yet gorgeous flowers are from some random weed. Weird, huh?

My kids each have a patch of ground where they planted their own tulips. These beauties are my eldest's.

Just a lovely rose.

I know you're supposed to hate them but I can't. I love dandelions. I think they are especially beautiful when they are in this, their most irresistable state. (Click on it and you can see a bit more detail. They really are amazing aerodynamically.)

Belated Mother's Day Report

2008-05-20T23:04:00.000-05:00

I've been wanting a bike trailer for at least half a decade, but for some reason or another have never got one. On Mother's Day, Dug and the kids announced that they were getting me a trailer! (This is how we do it in our house. You find out what you're getting on the special day, not necessarily getting it then.)

I had already tried to buy two Burley d'Lite's off of craigslist with no luck. Dug asked if we could buy one online cheaper than locally. Of course we could, but with shipping the difference wasn't going to be as great and, more importantly, we wouldn't be getting it that day. So we all trucked over to our favorite bike store and bought the beautiful little ditty. (Thank you Mr. Tax Rebate!)

The 3- and 5-year olds ride in the trailer while the olders bike along with me. It's been a blast and I love it. We've been biking everywhere we can: piano lessons, church, short shopping trips.

What I'm trying to figure out is how to go grocery shopping on bikes. See, I go to three different stores, accumulating approx. 8 bags of groceries, and the store are too far to drop off the groceries after each store. The d'Lite has cargo space for two bags. The two olders and I could each carry backpacks, but they obviously couldn't handle carrying an entire bag of groceries as they bike. And I don't necessarily want to go grocery shopping three different days of the week to get everything. I could probably figure out some way to hang some bags off the handle on the back of the trailer... Oh wait! I didn't even think of people stealing my groceries while I'm in another store. Sheesh! Is there no solution here?!

If you've got some ideas, hand them over. I want to bike as much as possible. Not just to win the battle of the bulge, but to lower our monthly gas bill and reduce pollution. Plus, it introduces happy daily exercise into the minds of my tots. It's good stuff all around.

PS Look behind my bicycle and you will see a super-sweet Honda CBR 600. Come June 5, I'm heading over to the community college and taking the Basic Rider Training course! That baby is sitting there just waiting for me to figure out what all her levers are for. This summer is two-wheels only! (I told Dug we should get two motorcycles, and two side-cars that each sit two people. Then we could go as a family on little trips. Him with the boys, me with the girls. It would be so much fun, I said. He just looked at me and smiled in that way he does when I come up with crazy ideas that he knows are best to not agree to nor argue over.)

31 Easy Steps To Test Your New Bathtub For Leaks and Bathe Your Children at the Same Time

2008-05-17T18:00:00.000-05:00

Adjust overflow/drain contraption to fit tub.
Attach above-mentioned thing-a-ma-jig to tub. (Keep in mind that the drain for the tub is only about six inches long, is not attached to anything and ends mid-air in the basement.)
Construct tub-filling gizmo from pvc pipe, tape, kitchen faucet and kitchenaid. (pic at left and below)
Fill tub with water to check for leaks. (Probably should have done this before we poured cement...)
After only a half-gallon, notice leak at drain/tub junction.
Jerry-rig temporary solution to drain tub using a corner pipe, a bucket and Tricia's biceps.

Drain water into bucket, fix leaky junction.
Clean up water mess.
Begin filling tub again, so far so good.
Wonder if water really needs to be above whirlpool jets before testing.
Test jets prematurely, confirm that yes, water must be above jets.
Clean up water mess.
Get kids in tub for "test run."
Kids happy, love the whirlpool. Comment "This is big enough to swim in!"
Realize that Water Level High Enough to Cover Jets + 4 Kids in Tub + Overflow Drain Pipe Not Attached to Anything and Ending in Mid-Air = Big Water Mess in Basement.
Tell kids to be perfectly still. (I know. Try not to laugh too hard.)
Dug opens drain, Tricia holds bucket under pipe in basement until full. Dug closes drain, Tricia dumps bucket into toilet. The plan is to drain the water low enough so that we can finish bathing the kids without the water sloshing into the overflow. (This level is actually hypothetical and doesn't exist, by the way.)

Inform children that if they really want to finish their bath they better not move another muscle.
Continue draining by bucket.
Threaten kids with bodily harm if they move a muscle again. (No, I still don't know why we didn't have them get out.)
Discover that if Dug opens the drain fully, the makeshift pipe system can't handle all the water and it overflows onto Tricia.
Dug finds that he "just can't help himself."
Tricia threatens Dug with bodily harm if he does it again.
Tub now drained low enough to finish bathing children if they "don't act crazy."

Discover that kids are incapable of non-crazy action in a body of water.
Clean up water mess.
Water sits in tub for a day and a half because Tricia can't/won't finish draining the tub via the bucket method.
Dug and Chris set up a temporary (read: unglued, shoved-together pipes) drain system.
Dug and Chris find that their system is insufficient for dealing with the massive amount of water that drains from a tub at once.
Clean up water mess.
Tub sufficiently tested, found without leak and in perfect-working order. Basement floors very clean.

Here's a "bonus" image for you. Sorry if you find it offensive. I just couldn't help myself. (Chris, what's the point of taking pictures, if you don't share them?)

Tools of the Trade - Two Great Ways to Use Your Kitchen Scales

2008-05-10T00:22:00.000-05:00

DISCLAIMER: This post will confirm what most of you suspect: I am a complete nerd. I am an incredibly anal cook/baker. I like math and scales. As with all my advice, I encourage you to use the intestinal method: take what works for you and "pass" the rest. (I know, it's gross, but I love how true it is!)

As promised in my Choice Goods post, I'm going to share with you how I use the kitchen scale to my advantage. Warning to Math Haters: using scales requires you to use your math skills. The good side is that you only have to dredge up the stuff you learned between first and third grades.

1. Measuring "sticky" stuff
I hate measuring shortening, peanut butter, honey, molasses, etc. They are a pain to get into the measuring cup, a pain to get out and a pain to clean up. But that was the old way. Now I put my mixing bowl on the scale, hit the "zero" button and simply add the ingredient until it gets to the right weight. The only thing I get dirty is the spoon. It's wonderful! If I have another ingredient to add, I hit zero again and then add it. Easy peasy!

*TIP* When measuring an ingredient into the bowl, pile it on top of itself. Be like a little kid and make a "mountain." That way, if you accidentally put too much in, you can take some out without scooping other ingredients along with it. This doesn't work with molasses though. Molasses is like hot lava and melts all the other ingredients. If you get too much molasses, well...I just hope you like molasses.

I can hear you asking, "But what if I don't know the weight of my ingredient?" My friends, there are two approaches to answering this question. First approach: Most labels have the number of grams a serving weighs. For example, my sour cream says "Serving Size 2 Tbsp (31g)." If I need one cup I just multiple the 31g by 8 since there are 16 Tb in a cup. I have a quick-reference measurement conversion sheet taped on the inside of my cupboard door for times such as these. (Click on picture at right to read labels.)

*WATCH OUT!* Stop pouring liquids about 20 g away from your desired weight. Scales tend to have a delay in them, so you need to let them catch up. If you pour until your desired weight and stop, you'll inevitably go over. Not easy to remove honey from that bowl full eggs and flour now, is it?

The second approach is this: Every time I use an ingredient for the first time, I weigh it and write it on a reference sheet. For instance, if I'm going to use molasses (it's serving size is in mL, not useful for my purposes) I place the measuring cup on the scale, zero it, fill it with molasses and record the weight. Sure it's messy this time, but next time I won't have to measure it out, I can just weigh it directly into the mixing bowl. I've done this in one-cup measurements for most of my commonly used ingredients. (One cup is easier to convert, as opposed to changing a 1/4 c serving size into 2/3 c, for example) Alternatively, you can record how much specific ingredients weigh on a recipe, but the disadvantage is that you have to find that recipe again to know the weight of that ingredient. If the one-cup weights are all in one easy-to-access place, you can use them for any recipe. Once you have calculated the recipe-specific weight, by all means, write it on the recipe for future use.

2. Dividing cake batter
If you bake and have to divide your batter, it's important for the pans to have an equal amount. This is not only for aesthetic reasons, but so they can bake at the same rate and come out equally moist in the end. Once again...math! For this to work, you need to use identical cake pans.

I have recorded the weight of my most commonly used bowls (including my Kitchenaide one!) and have them written on the reference sheet with the ingredient weights. (click on picture at left for details) After I make the batter, I weigh the bowl + batter. I then subtract the already-known weight of the bowl. This gives me the weight of the batter. I divide this number in half. This is how much batter should make it into each pan if I could get every tiny bit of batter out of the bowl. I never can. So use it more as a guideline.

Now you need to put your cake pan on the scale and zero it. Pour the batter in until you're about ten grams below the amount that should be in the pan. Take that pan off and put the second, empty one on the scale. Dump the remaining batter into this pan. If it's too much, scoop some into the other. If it's too little, grab some from the other pan. Your goal is to have the two pans weigh almost the same as each other. You don't have to be too anal. Within ten or fifteen grams is close enough.

These are my two great tips for kitchen-scale usage. My husband makes pancakes every Saturday and since I showed him my handy-dandy reference weights, he weighs every ingredient except the smaller ones that use measuring spoons. He loves it, I love it, we love it. See? The kitchen scales are helping to fill our house with love.

Do you have any tips on putting your kitchen scales to work? Share them! Believe me, I want to know! Also, if any of this in confusing, let me know! I'll try to clear it up.

Short But Not Sweet

2008-05-06T15:51:00.000-05:00

After the long, formidable Cat's Eye, my next book from the Reading Dangerously challenge was the short, formidable Transformations by Anne Sexton.

As a book of poetry and having only 112 pages, it was a refreshingly quick read. (It took me an hour or so.) Anne Sexton chose seventeen of the Grimm Brothers' fairy tales and put them to verse with such a distinct voice, having never read Sexton before, I can imagine that I would be able to recognize her work. I found the poems engrossingly entertaining, but also knew that I was missing a lot with only a first reading.

The format is this: you are given the title, Anne gives a sort of intro about whatever she feels is the poignant aspect of the tale (in verse, of course) and then you read her poetic transformation of the well known story. Before Snow White she speaks of virgins, before Iron Hans she describes how people can not bear the insane, before The Little Peasant she paints lust. As far as being a novice poetry reader goes, I felt that this allowed me to better understand her poetry. The stories themselves were easy enough to understand, it was the intro verses that, without knowing they were discussing the tales, would have been far more difficult to "get."

And this stuff ain't light, either. Sexton is funny, sarcastic, disturbing and blunt. I loved how she treated certain aspects of the stories. For example, in Rumpelstiltskin, we already know the same scene is re-enacted between the little man and the princess on three consecutive nights. Sexton cuts to the chase,
"Again she cried.
Again the dwarf came.
Again he spun the straw into gold."
No embellishment, no descriptors, just the facts. It's like she's saying, "Yeah, yeah, we know, let's get on with it." I also enjoyed how she would comment on certain aspects that only occur in fairy tales. For instance, in the White Snake she writes,
"At the next town
the local princess was having a contest.
A common way for princesses to marry."
I couldn't help but smile.

Even though it is funny, it's not. She's pretty biting and cynical, in general, with some pretty disturbing ways of looking at Rapunzel (the old witch was her lesbian lover) and The Frog Prince (insinuates a bit much went on when the frog shared the princess' bed). You can see her disdain for the common ending of these stories:
"So, of course,
they were placed in a box
and painted identically blue
and thus passed their days
living happily ever after --
a kind of coffin,
a kind of blue funk.
Is it not?"

So what did I really think? While I don't agree with her, it was an interesting view on the Grimm Brothers' work. Enough so that I want to reread them and really dissect what she was trying to say. While her opinions are mostly obvious, there were some things that were just too abstract for me to "get." So I guess, in the end, I didn't so much like it, as I was intrigued. (And, to be honest, disturbed. But mostly intrigued.)

How do you feel when you finish a marathon?

2008-05-05T17:28:00.000-05:00

Finally...FINALLY...I finished Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood.

In order to review this honestly, I didn't read any other review of it. That can be scary. For what if I missed the main, obvious premise of the book and I look like an idiot? I'm trying to be brave here and hopefully give a one-of-the-normal-folk type of reviews as opposed to a literary one.

How do I describe this book? Hmmmm...let's see...I guess there are two ways.

If it didn't satisfy two reading challenges: My Year of Reading Dangerously and Orbis Terrarum, I wouldn't have finished it. It took until page 126 for me to even care about the main character and finally by page 328 (of 446 total) I found that I was intrigued and wanted to know how it would end.
Difficult to finish, but once it is over, you want to have a discussion with others who have read it so you can figure out the many things that you don't quite get. Great, great book for a book club to discuss.

Elaine, is our main character. The story hops back and forth between the present and her past, working from her young childhood in the '40's, until the two merge in the "now" of the '80's. The problem is that she is never happy. Never. Nothing makes her happy. Her childhood girlfriends terrorized her and from that point on...nothing but this gray film on life. She goes through the motions but every thought is cynical and every smile suspected.

The ringleader of these "friends" and subtle-tactic bully, Cordelia, oddly enough ends up being Elaine's best friend later on. It is her relationship with Cordelia, specifically, and her childhood home, Toronto, in general, that torments Elaine onward through adulthood.

I really enjoyed Atwood's style of writing. The hopscotch forward/backward in time method that she used was a perfect medium for telling this story since Elaine's present is so entwined with her past. A bit confusing at times, but a brilliant move.

Atwood has an amazing way of describing things without being verbose. Reading a lot of classics, I'm always skimming and skipping whole paragraphs of descriptions. Not so with this book. The things she describes are not only important to the story, but are done in such a way as to keep my interest. One of my favorite lines from this book is conveyed in just this sparse way.
"This landscape is empty now, a place for Sunday runners. Or not empty: filled with whatever it is by itself, when I'm not looking."

I find myself wanting to dissect this novel with someone else. I want to bounce ideas of what I think the different symbols mean off of another. In that sense, I feel that this book was extraordinary. It evokes discussion and I think that is one of the necessary components of a good book.

Just be aware: this book is gray. By that I mean that when I think of how I feel when I read it, I could only envision the characters in black and white. Different items were in color but the people are all gray. My feelings were gray. I felt that Elaine was walking around dusted in gray.

For what it's worth...the above is what I came out of Cat's Eye with. It was difficult to get through, but in the end I'm glad I did. Not sure if I would attempt it again, though. Sort of like finishing a marathon.

PS - Yes, you do understand the cover picture by the end of the book.

PPS - Anyone who has read this before: When Elaine is arguing with her then-husband Jon, he says,"Trisha, Monica is just a friend." Is this a typo or was she going by Trisha before this? See, my name is Tricia and I'm pretty sure I would have seen another one previous. Please relieve my anxious confusion...EDIT: I feel pretty silly now. After talking it over with my husband, I realized that Jon was answering her question. She asked if he was going to see Monica. His response was misinterpreted by me. I thought he was calling Elaine Trisha like some sort of nickname and then letting her know she was being paranoid because Monica was just a friend. But in actuality he is answering her question that he is going to see Trisha and that she got the "other woman" wrong because Monica is just a friend. Funny how you can read the printed word in different ways isn't it?

Choice Goods - Kitchen Scale

2008-05-03T00:29:00.000-05:00

One thing that I highly recommend for anyone to have in their kitchen is a scale. Sure, I got along without one for nine of my eleven cooking years, but those nine years could have been so much more.

Why this love, you ask? Well, for starters, have you ever had the recipes that ask for a specific weight of ingredient...say, pasta? I usually buy my pasta in bulk and since weights only come on pre-packaged labels, I was clueless as to what six oz of orzo or 12 oz of elbow macaroni looked like. Or what about meats? or vegetables? or cheese? Now when my polenta calls for 2 oz of parmesan, I can use my scale and KNOW.

Another reason is that I am a lover of trying new ethnicities of foods, but many times they are in metric. (Makes sense since almost the entirety of the world is metric...but I digress.) Liquid measurements are done in mL and many measuring cups and spoons are marked for these. Solid/dry ingredients are stated in weight or, more specifically, grams. For those, you have to find a metric equivalents page and convert the ingredient-specific grams into cups. Good luck. Wouldn't it be easier to just use your handy-dandy scale? Why, yes, it would be.

I did some research on kitchen scales back before I bought mine and found some specific things to look out for.

Easy conversion switch - Most, if not all, scales come with a switch to jump from grams to ounces. Many are not in easy to get to places. For instance, one scale I know of has its switch on the bottom. So if you are measuring and realize you're using the wrong units, you have to take off the item and flip the whole thing over to switch it. Pain in the hobbity-hoo, if you ask me.
High weight max - You want to have a scale that is able to handle what you throw at it. A little portion scale is not going to be able to measure a large pot full of potatoes, if for some reason you need its weight. Mine has a 5kg/11lb max. I've never had anything that I've needed to weigh max it out.
Large enough weighing-thing - I don't know what it's called, but make sure the platform where you put the stuff to be weighed is able to accommodate large mixing bowls, Kitchenaid bowls, dinner plates, pie pans, etc.
Intuitive - Some scales, believe it or not, are a bit complicated. They've got a lot of buttons that can be confusing. You want simple. You want to be able to figure it out without having to refer to the owner's manual.
Cool Factor - Okay, so this isn't a real necessity. But if you are going to use your scale as much as me, you're going to leave it out on the counter and you are going to be a little happier if it looks cool. I mean, sure, we can all be happy with practical and durable. But what if you get practical, durable, and kick-butt sweet-looking?! Huh? You're not going to tell me that if you had to pick between two equally sturdy, great-working scales, you wouldn't choose the sweet, almost a decorative option choice, are you? I didn't think so.
Digital - This one holds some room for contention. There are those who are lovers of the mechanical scale. To them I say this: Go with what you love. Personally, I think digital is more accurate because it is less reliant on me. If you know me, you would agree. I think the general consensus is digital is better, but mechanicals don't run out of batteries.

The scale that met all the above-criteria for me was Model 6300 by Salter. (pictured at left) We got her at Bed, Bath and Beyond, I think. Sorry, I don't have it's model name anymore. But it's a beaut. I mean, as far as modern, sleekness goes she's just lovely. It wouldn't appeal to those romantic, vintage lovers out there. (You know who you are!!!) But we can't please everyone, can we? You guys can stick it in the cabinet. (For the record, I love vintage-y stuff in decor, just not for my active-use, modern-does-it-better items.) Also, the cooler vintage-looking scales tend to be mechanical, while the digital scales have a more modern design. I'm a digital girl, what can I say?

I use my little scale daily. It is invaluable to me. It makes me a more accurate baker (which you must agree is an accuracy-devout field) and a happier cook. I've got a bunch of tips on how scales can make your life easier but that info needs its own post. So for now I leave you with this:

Kitchen scales...they're choice!

We've got bathtub!

2008-04-30T22:25:00.000-05:00

We've made progress on our bathroom again. We cut two holes in the floor. One for the toilet and one for the bathtub. They are lovely, which I just realized is kinda funny since technically a hole is a non-entity. But it doesn't matter because holes are progress. They are a step forward towards having a non-basement bathroom once again.

In the words of an As Seen On TV info-mercial, "But wait! There's more!"

We also put our super-sweet, six-foot whirlpool tub in place!

Now when people look through the kitchen wall into the unfinished bathroom space they'll see a bathtub and I won't have to say, "This our bathroom. We're re-doing it."

They will see it and say, "So, you guys are redoing your bathroom, eh?" And I'll just have to say, "Yes." Less explaining the same things over and over = happy Tricia. Although it doesn't explain why there isn't a wall between our bathroom and kitchen. Oh well, I just have to remind myself, Baby steps.

Our tub is in place but it didn't go exactly as planned. But then again, does it ever?

First, we had to get the bathtub into the bathroom from its temporary home in our basement. It was a straight shot, so that was good, but we bought the largest dang tub that would fit in our tiny bathroom. It had to be turned onto its side and took three of us to get it up our very steep-very shallow basement stairs. That coupled with the fact that as whirpool tub it is wrapped around with tubes that state explicitly "DO NOT LIFT FROM TUBES!" made the whole process that much more difficult. There are tubes all the way around it. Where they heck do they expect me to grab it from?

Moving it into the bathroom used all my muscle reserves, but now we had to position it. Dug is over six feet tall and not what you would call 'lanky'. He never took baths because our previous bathtub was so shallow and short that the water didn't even cover his thighs when he sat completely upright. Nor could he lay down without his legs completely sticking out of the water since the tub was roughly the equivalent length from his head to his bum. He had had enough of this height discrimination so he bought a six-foot, really deep bathtub. A six-foot bathtub to fit in a space six-foot and one-half inch long. Yep. We had one-half inch to spare.

Let me see if I can illustrate with words how things were situated. Our new bathtub was now sitting in our 6'1/2" x 9' bathroom perfectly diagonal. Dug on one side, Chris on one end, and me on the side opposite Dug. Our goal was to get the bathtub parallel with the end wall. The six-foot one-half inch one. We first tried to get it in place by lifting one tub end really high so we could turn it and then lower the end in place. Our whirlpool pump stuck out too far and caught against the wood. We could only get the end to lower down to within two feet of the floor before it got stuck. Uh oh. Did we buy a tub that was geometrically impossible to set in place? I was instantly reminded of the "grandfather clock" word problem from eighth grade.

"Can a nine-foot grandfather clock be placed in a nine-foot room?" (The answer is 'no' because in order to get it through the door you have to tip it on its side and
once on its side you can't tip it back up again. The hypotenuse (or diagonal from one corner to the other corner) will be longer than nine feet. The clock corners would hit before you could stand it on end.)

I asked Dug, "Is it physically possible for us to get this tub in place?"
Dug, aka Mr. Physics, would have already calculated this with his astute gray matter. I thought the question was rhetorical but he answered, "I hope so."

Hmmm...not the reassurance I was looking for. Needless to say I was having to control the anxious thoughts shooting like popping corn into my brain. "How long will it take to get a new one?" "How much money will we lose since this was a special order?" "Does this screw up our calculations on how the room would be plumbed/tiled/etc?"

Our only hope was that the other end of the bathtub, the end without the pump, would be sloped enough to allow us to drop it into place. We unstuck the pump-end, rotated the entire thing back into a diagonal, then lifted the drain-end up while turning the bathtub in parallel with the end wall again. Apart from a few fingers getting pinched between the tub and the studs, it was gently lowered into its correct orientation with no hassle. *huge, anxiety-ridding sigh of relief* Thank God!

Second phase:

A tub usually has runners built onto the bottom, which the tub sits on. Dug studied up on tub installation and found that if you set the tub in a pool of cement, the cement hardens in contact with the entire bottom of the tub, not just the runners, and shores up the entire bottom surface. A person's weight is thereby displaced over the entirety of the bottom of the bathtub.

We had decided to apply this method to our bathtub installation. We put a sheet of plastic on the floor and after mixing up a bag of quik-crete, dumped it into the middle of the plastic. After letting it thicken up a bit, we took a trowel and piled it onto itself, making a good-size mound.

Somehow between the three of us we lifted the bathtub up and onto the mound, nestling it up against the back wall and into its soft-cushy pillow of quik-crete with one-quarter inch to spare on each end. Unforeseen problem #2: The runners are too tall. Our plan was to have the entire bottom of the tub shored up by the concrete, right? Well, we didn't measure the runners...oops! Our particular bathtub has three-inch tall runners. That means that we would have needed a mound of cement three-inches tall if it was going to be able to even touch the underside of the tub. The runners sank into the mound only an inch or so.

So what is the downside to this? Well, luckily it is only expended time and money. Nothing is gained, but nothing is really lost either. It's just an extra step that we didn't need since there was no way we were going to lay a 3" bed of concrete for that tub! Oh well! Live and learn. At least that's what we hope we are doing...

For now, I've got a bathtub in place and I see progress. That's all I care about.

Next step...plumbing time!

cheesecake pops or no catastrophes for once

2008-04-27T17:39:00.000-05:00

This month, Elle at Feeding My Enthusiasms and Deborah at Taste and Tell hosted the Daring Bakers' Challenge of Cheesecake Pops from the cookbook Sticky, Chewy, Messy, Gooey by Jill O’Connor. Basically, frozen balls of cheesecake, dipped in chocolate, on a stick. My husband was ecstatic! (He's a cheesecake nut.)

This was definitely going to be a challenge as I had never attempted a cheesecake in my life. My friend, Bethany, and I decided to undertake the first part of the task together: Make the Cheesecake. (This is her first month as a Daring Baker, hooray!) Armed with five pounds of cream cheese, we began. It was nice to bounce ideas off another live person during a challenge as opposed to just reading other's posts with their tips/comments. The cheesecake came out beautifully and was probably one of the best cheesecakes I've tasted.

All in all, the whole recipe was pretty painless (good recipe Jill O'Connor!) and, unfortunately, that makes for a pretty bland post. The most crazy parts were having to cut the top crust off the cheesecake so harder bits weren't in it and rolling the balls with my hands since the cheesecake refused to be scooped.

After the cheesecake cooled, I molded the balls. After the balls froze, I needed to dip them in chocolate. And here's where I got creative: I made carmelized sugar decorations to give them a "gourmet" look. Believe it or not, they were super easy to make.

You take about a cup and a half of sugar and over medium heat melt it until your pan is filled with a puddle of brownish goo. Cool the outside of the pan with a plunge into cold water (careful not to get any inside with the melted sugar) and stir until it thickens just a bit. Once you've got it here you need to work quickly before the caramel stuff hardens into something akin to enamel. Use a spoon and drizzle the goo onto wax paper. Get crazy with it.

Once you've got out as much as possible, put the pot into the sink and fill it with water. (If you let it soak, changing the water every 10 minutes or so, the sugar will dissolve completely on its own. Good luck trying to clean it any other way.) The sugar will harden and you can break it into decorative pieces. If you're way better than me you can drizzle specific shapes. I just went for the "general chaos" method.

Caution: Once the sugar has completely melted, quit cooking or else it will get a burnt marshmallow taste. (Can you guess how I know that?) Personally, I'm quite the fan of burnt marshmallows, but no one else in my family cares for them too much. Also, the flavor overpowered the entire pop so we had to eat the decoration and pop separately to really appreciate the cheesecake.

After I made the caramel thingies I proceeded to dip the balls, then quickly smoosh a decoration onto it. It was fun. But since our little town didn't have lollipop sticks, I had to use bamboo skewers. This gave it quite a kitchen-weapon sort of feel as I let the dipped pops harden by stabbing the skewers into a block of styrofoam. I quite enjoyed it.

But nothing was enjoyed quite as much as eating those little suckers. Talk about the perfect amount of cheesecake. More than a bite, but not too much that those little thoughts of "this is a lot of cheesecake" creep into your mind. For the next three days or so, after lunch and dinner we'd all reach into the freezer and grab a pop. So good. So delicious. So now a part of my go-to recipe collection.

All in all it took three days, start-to-finish. But it could have been done much shorter than that. The nice part was that it didn't have to be. Of course, leaving the cheesecake pops sans chocolate in the freezer for a week might develop odd flavors, but it's not like bread where you have a specific window of time for the work to be done or it's bye-bye end product.

Here's the recipe and it comes highly recommended by me (my comments in red).

Cheesecake Pops
Makes 30 – 40 Pops

5 8-oz. packages cream cheese at room temperature
2 cups sugar
¼ cup all-purpose flour
¼ teaspoon salt
5 large eggs
2 egg yolks
2 teaspoons pure vanilla extract
¼ cup heavy cream

Boiling water as needed

Thirty to forty 8-inch lollipop sticks

1 pound chocolate, finely chopped – you can use all one kind or half and half of dark, milk, or white (Alternately, you can use 1 pound of flavored coatings, also known as summer coating, confectionary coating or wafer chocolate – candy supply stores carry colors, as well as the three kinds of chocolate.)

2 tablespoons vegetable shortening

(Note: White chocolate is harder to use this way, but not impossible)

Assorted decorations such as chopped nuts, colored jimmies, crushed peppermints, mini chocolate chips, sanding sugars, dragees) - Optional

Position oven rack in the middle of the oven and preheat to 325 degrees F. Set some water to boil.

In a large bowl, beat together the cream cheese, sugar, flour, and salt until smooth. If using a mixer, mix on low speed. Add the whole eggs and the egg yolks, one at a time, beating well (but still at low speed) after each addition. Beat in the vanilla and cream.

Grease a 10-inch cake pan (not a springform pan), and pour the batter into the cake pan. Place the pan in a larger roasting pan. Fill the roasting pan with the boiling water until it reaches halfway up the sides of the cake pan. Bake until the cheesecake is firm and slightly golden on top, 35 to 45 minutes.

Remove the cheesecake from the water bath and cool to room temperature. Cover the cheesecake with plastic wrap and refrigerate until very cold, at least 3 hours or up to overnight.

When the cheesecake is cold and very firm, scoop the cheesecake into 2-ounce balls (Mine were about the size of a large walnut but they only weighed one oz. I think it was the perfect size though. Two ounces would have been pretty darn big.) and place on a parchment paper-lined baking sheet. Carefully insert a lollipop stick into each cheesecake ball. Freeze the cheesecake pops, uncovered, until very hard, at least 1 – 2 hours.

When the cheesecake pops are frozen and ready for dipping, prepare the chocolate. In the top of a double boiler, set over simmering water, or in a heatproof bowl set over a pot of simmering water, heat half the chocolate and half the shortening, stirring often, until chocolate is melted and chocolate and shortening are combined. Stir until completely smooth. Do not heat the chocolate too much or your chocolate will lose it’s shine after it has dried. Save the rest of the chocolate and shortening for later dipping, or use another type of chocolate for variety. (I melted the whole amount at once and working quickly, having enough time to dip them all while the chocolate was still dippable. (Yeah, that' s a word I just made up. I had a bit leftover that I mixed with some almonds for some chocolate-covered almond bark stuff. Don't let good chocolate go to waste.)

Alternately, you can microwave the same amount of chocolate coating pieces on high at 30 second intervals, stirring until smooth.

Quickly dip a frozen cheesecake pop in the melted chocolate, swirling quickly to coat it completely. Shake off any excess into the melted chocolate. If you like, you can now roll the pops quickly in optional decorations. You can also drizzle them with a contrasting color of melted chocolate (dark chocolate drizzled over milk chocolate or white chocolate over dark chocolate, etc.) Place the pop on a clean parchment paper-lined baking sheet to set. Repeat with remaining pops, melting more chocolate and shortening (or confectionary chocolate pieces) as needed.

Refrigerate the pops for up to 24 hours, until ready to serve.

Eighty percent sounds pretty good, right?

2008-04-25T23:39:00.000-05:00

Want a difficult quiz? Play the Paint Game. I got an eighty percent. Wrong, that is. The quiz is based on names of paint colors. You match the name to the correct color. Sounds easy enough until they throw out names like Pebble Mosaic and Russian Velvet. I mean what color fits both Shangrila Silk and Delhi Bazaar? (answer in comments)

Try it out, it's pretty fun (or frustrating, depending on which side of the personality spectrum you fall on.)

For the reader who doesn't think they have enough information on "Who Tricia Is"

2008-04-23T22:52:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I am blown away by how narcissistic blogging is. "Hello world! Here I am. I am so important in my own eyes that I think my contemplations are significant enough to share with the world. I expect the world to read my compositions and care enough to comment on them."

But I digress...

The following information is what I really wanted to disseminate. (Isn't disseminate a great word? I learned it while working for the National Weather Service in college. I love that word.)

[MAIN POST SUBJECT]
In case you didn't notice, I put an About Me page on the blog. (The link is right under the blog title on the left hand side.) Just in case you want to know a bunch of Tricia trivia, like how I have an affinity for the words trivia and pediatrician because one is almost the same as my name and the other has my name in it. (Consider that a bonus, it isn't on the list.) Just in case you care...the option is available.
[END MAIN POST SUBJECT]

(I read somewhere on some blog that it is a good idea to have an About Me page. Lets readers know who you are. This is the product of my obedience.)

Choice Goods Wednesday?

2008-04-23T22:32:00.000-05:00

I've been thinking...you know that whole 'quantity vs quality' issue? I've been thinking about it. And this is my conclusion: I don't know if I can recommend 52 items every year. That's a lot of stuff to really love. And I don't want to put stuff up that I like right now but am hoping I find something better. I want things that are so good I would be pretty darn surprised to find something better. So my conclusion? I'm going to have Choice Goods days. Not Wednesdays but Days. That way I can write about the things that truly are extraordinary. Do you agree? I hope so.

I'm glad I got that off my chest. I'm sure you're just as relieved.

So with that in mind...no choice good this week. But I promise you, when I have one, it will be choice!

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 5 - Beer, Waffles and Chocolate Minus the Beer

2008-04-21T17:00:00.000-05:00

I promise I'll finish the Kruger safari post at some point, but I'm having trouble accessing the pics. Something is wrong with our CD-ROM drive. (Who knows what the kids did to it.) For right now, I'm going to move on to Brussels.

On our return trip we had a 24-hr layover in Brussels, Belgium. Since Dug practically lived in Oklahoma last year, he has amassed quite a hefty sum of Marriott points. We decided that we would spend the day in Brussels, sleep in a hotel and then catch our flight home the next day. By using his Marriott points, we were able to book a room in the Brussels Marriott Hotel right in the middle of Brussels in the Grand Place. (This is the central market square and major tourist spot of the city.) We didn't even know how much it cost because we used his points and since he's a platinum member they upgrade our room automatically. (Later we found out the cheapest room was 489 euros a night! That's 773 US dollars, baby!) Anyway...

From the airport, we bought a ticket into the center of Brussels. Unfortunately we didn't know which side of the platform we were supposed to catch the train from. (There trains on both sides.) And of course, everything is in French and Flemish. (I only know rudimentary Spanish and it didn't help. The people who say Spanish and French are so similar are either big, fat liars or pretentious linguists who want you to know how smart they are.) Lucky for us a friendly English-speaker pointed us to the right train.

After getting off at our stop we come out of the railway station into the sun only to realize that we didn't get the address of our hotel before we left. Well, to be totally honest, we thought that since the website said it was located "at the Grand Place" that it would be somewhat easy to find. Right? (Keep your laughter to a minimum please.) Nope.

Undaunted, we started walking towards the tallest steeple we could find. (The Grand Place has these huge gothic buildings surrounding it and we knew that if we found them, we were at least somewhat in the right vicinity.) Before I go any further, I need to explain to you the nature of the streets of Brussels. Imagine a wagon wheel. Every intersection was like a wagon wheel and when you walked to the end of the "spoke" you were at another wagon wheel. And every spoke had a different name. That was Brussels. Even if we did have the address it was of no use since the roads didn't extend far enough to be followed for any sizable distance. I'm thinking that if you mapquested an address you would need about two pages to get you a mile.
Turn left onto Rue A. (0.1 m)
Turn right onto Rue B. (0.1m)
Turn right onto Rue C. (0.1 m)
Straight onto Rue D. (0.1 m)
Sl right onto Rue E. (0.1 m)
Are you starting to understand?

After asking a very friendly guy trying to sell us a guided bus tour we were pointed in what we hoped was the right direction. We did reach the Grand Place and it was breath-taking. I had to keep reminding myself that this wasn't a European theme park but it was the real deal. Although most of the people were tourists, I knew that some of these people really lived here, with the beautiful buildings and uneven but beautiful cobble streets. Seriously, the buildings were amazing. I thought the ones in DC were gorgeous, but they paled in comparison with Brussels.

We saw two policemen and asked them if they knew where the Marriott was. (Traveling tip: Whatever country you are in, try speaking English in their accent. They understand you much better.) Dug asked, "Do you know where the Marriott is?" *blank stare from policeman* "The Marriott? Hotel?" *policeman's brow furrows, head tilts and leans forward slightly* I ventured with my best French accent, "Meh-dee-ote?" (I know it doesn't look like it, but try saying it quickly out loud.) *suddenly comprehension dawns on his face and he nods in agreement* "Yes," he says. "Marriott!" I know at this moment Dug was thinking, "Yeah, that's what I've been saying the whole time!"

Now the policeman are giving directions in tandem. You know when one says something and then the other agrees and then gives their input which the other corrects in which they both agree that that one was right and then one gives the next direction...and the whole time they really aren't looking at you but having a conversation about the best way to give directions. Luckily Dug was here, because I really didn't get a lot of what they said. I just tried to remember important words. I heard one that sounded like Bus. I'm assuming we should look for a bus stop. And then they said the kicker, "Eet is next to zee MacDonald's!"

Of course it was next to McDonalds! We're Americans, why would they put any other kind of restaurant next to an American hotel? Even if you shell out over $700/night for the cheap rooms. Oh well, it is a good landmark you must admit.

So we followed what we understood of their directions and found that we were darn close to our hotel already. We walked a few "blocks" and we saw a sign that said "Bourse/Beurs." Aha! Our "bus." We were on the right track. And then, there across the street, we saw them. Those dang-blasted golden arches. And right above them, the word Marriott. Our search was at an end.

After checking in and showering off the filth of the last twenty hours of air travel we talked to the concierge. He suggested a few sites we could see and armed with a map, we were off. The first place he suggested we visit was the Grand Sablon. It was also the farthest so we thought we might start there and then hit the other sights on the way back.

The streets were so fascinating. The shortest buildings were five stories and all were squished together, and the road itself was quite narrow. That coupled with the seeming random angles of the streets made you feel like you were in a maze. We had almost made it to Sablon when I took the time to read the "Use This To Not Only Feel Like a Tourist But Look Like One, Too" map. Uh oh.
"Um, Dug."
"Yeah."
"I don't think we want to go to Sablon."
"Why not?"
"Let me read the description to you: 'This is a veritable Mecca of antique dealers...'"
I didn't have to read any further. I like browsing almost any type of shopping venue, while Dug is not so keen. But that wasn't really the big deal. Dug is not a fan of antiques. And since I'm not a huge antique person, either, we knew this wasn't the best use of our few precious Belgian hours. Now to form a new plan of attack.

But first, some energy! We had been smelling this amazing aroma and to our left and right, people were passing us with delicious piles of whipped cream and chocolate in their hands. As we turned a corner, there on our left was a waffle vendor. What are the three big Belgian favorites? Beer (yuck!), Chocolate and Waffles! We stopped and ordered a waffle with whipped cream and caramel. I can't even begin to describe how delicious it was. I don't want to know what it was made with, either. Something that rich and mmmmm can only be made with exceptionally high quantities of fat and sugar.

Our bellies laden with supreme deliciousness, we decided on the new target: Museum of Modern Art. We found it, but it was not easy. Our map said it was "there" but when we got "there," no museum. After a bit of "Let's Try This Way." We stumbled, quite by accident, upon the entrance. There were two options: Ancient and Modern. We decided to attack chronologically. Ancient.

In the first main atrium-type room we saw this beautiful shimmering green globe-like thing. (This ended up being my favorite piece.) When you got up to it, you could see that the entire thing was covered in beetles. It was beautiful and yet disturbing. The colors were amazing and yet they were dead beetles. (To be accurate, it was just their exoskeleton.) I was fascinated and yet repelled at the same time. If you will please forgive me, I forgot to note its name and artist, but after a little research, I'm fairly confident it was done by Jan Fabre.

We spent a few hours there and had only made it through the Ancient section when we decided to wind our way back to the hotel. By the time we got back it would be about right for some din-din. (That's 'dinner' for those who don't know.) More or less, the route back went past one of the main landmarks in Brussels: the Mannekin Pis. It is THE little statue of a young boy peeing into the fountain basin. I wasn't especially excited to see him, but since he was on the way...we did. Unfortunately he was dressed up as some sort of neon leprechaun, but we can check See Mannekin Pis off our Things To Do Before We Die list now.

We also stopped at this chocolate shop called Planete Chocolat. (waffles: check! chocolate: check!) We had just missed the Tasting Session, bummer! The two salespeople were super friendly although they barely spoke English and we didn't speak French, but they gave us some hot chocolate and some samples while we shopped. I was asking the main guy if they had almond but he didn't understand "almond." So I found this bag containing disks of chocolate with a variety of nuts sitting on top. I pointed to the almond and asked, "How do you say 'almond' in French?" He said, "Ohhh, that is ahl-mahnd." I almost laughed out loud. But once again, proof that if you speak with a French accent, French speakers will understand you better.

Our hotel was just a few blocks from this area called St. Catherine's which apparently is home to a well-known street of restaurants. As we walked around a corner, suddenly this huge gothic silhouette dominated our view. (It was the darker side of evening.) Aha! This must be the area's namesake, the church of St. Catherine. Walking past the church we were greeted by the restaurant district. There were two streets in parallel; a large cobblestone open area nestled in between the streets. Restaurant after restaurant lined both sides. How were we to choose? Especially since all the little chalkboard signs put out on the sidewalks were written in very foofy, French cursive that I couldn't read. Luckily, about half the restaurants were closed since it was late Sunday evening but that only narrowed our choices down to about fifteen. There was another problem, as well. The concierge didn't tell us that this was the famous "fish" row. Dug, although the chap was raised in Alaska, doesn't like fish. And that was the dominating feature of every menu. We crossed over to the other street and started checking those out as well. One stood out to us, something "d'or."

We had tried to look up good Belgian restaurants before we left the hotel but it was too difficult. Dug wrote down a few from Lonely Planet.com and we decided to put our trust in the concierge. I remembered one of the high-rated ones was something "d'or." (That restaurant and the one we were at were not the same, by the way. But that's how we finally made our decision.) That and the fact that its logo had a pig on it led us to finally choose this restaurant. If it has a pig, it probably has more choices than just fish, right? Wrong. Dug pretty much had his choice of three types of steak, that's it. I chose the Sole, but in hindsight I could have just eaten the bread and been happy. It was sooooo good. The butter was even delicious-er than any other butter I've ever had. Dinner was absolutely yummy.

The rest of the trip was uneventful except that Dug misread our flight departure time by 40 minutes and we were almost late for the train back to the airport which, although one leaves every 30 minutes, we would have been too late to catch our flight. But we weren't and we didn't.

One more "memory": As we were in the train, passing various Brussel streets, right off the track was what I thought was a lingerie store mannequin in the window. But it moved! And then I saw there were more! There was a whole street of store fronts with scantily-clad women in the windows advertising their "wares." I was unable to take my eyes away. Dug and I whipped our head towards each other, silmultaneously asking, "Did you see that?!" Ahhhh Europe.

endnote: Thank goodness we were only in Brussels for 24 hrs. We bought one bag of chocolate and ate one meal. The grand total for those two things? $200! The chocolate alone was $70 and what we bought could have fit in a lunch bag. (It was soooo good, though. Dang! It was good!)

Tools of the Trade - Reducing Sibling Fighting

2008-04-18T15:55:00.000-05:00

I've decided to discontinue Factoid Friday. If I run into super-interesting facts, I'll just let you know, instead of having a feature. What I thought would be more helpful would be to post the things I've learned that have made my life easier. My 'tools of the trade' so to speak.

Something I found on the internet that I've tweaked so much that I can rightly call my own is "Kid of the Day." How it works is this: Each day is a different kid's "day." This means that if there is a decision to be made, they get to make it. Things like who gets the middle seat in the van, what kind of sandwiches we have for lunch, what movie they get to watch or who gets to sit by Mommy at dinner time. They will still argue, but when the all powerful phrase, "It's MY day!" is said, the argument is over. The trump card has been played. Each day it rotates, crowning the next kid decision-maker of the day. Of course this doesn't get rid of all fighting, but it does reduce specific recurring instances of fighting and whining. They know that their day is coming and they will get to choose what they want.

I've also added this philosophy to chores. There are certain chores that must be done everyday. I've divided them into four groups and each kid is assigned one group a day. It rotates with the "day's" kid getting the easy stuff. For example: If it's your day you get 1. clean the table off after meals 2. pick up toys/sweep the kitchen 3. day off of unloading dishwasher (we have 4 kids and 3 dishwasher zones) 4. pick up hall/stairs/landing.

Other kids get:

kid #2 - 1. wash table 2. pick up/sweep dining room 3. unload top of dishwasher 4. set napkins/silverware for dinner
kid #3 - 1. switch laundry to dryer 2. pick up/sweep back porch 3. unload bottom of dishwasher 4. set plates/cups out for dinner
kid #4 - 1. make couch pillows look nice 2. pick up/sweep living room 3. unload silverware 4. set condiments etc. out for dinner

At left is our old chore list. (I'm currently working on the new one. This list has been in use for a little over a year and needed to be updated.) The "kid of the day" is upper left. I have four copies of the list attached to that ring. The only difference between them is that the names are rotated one spot on each subsequent copy. I also use a different color for each kid so that the non-readers can tell when it is "their day." The one in the photo is colored blue for my youngest boy. (The names are colored out to protect the not-so-innocent.) Each morning, I flip the page revealing the new "Kid of the Day" as well as everyone's daily ration of chores.

The kids have really taken to this and not only keep impeccable track of whose "day" it is, but have memorized what chores go with which day. (i.e. If it was my day yesterday, then I unload the top of the dishwasher today.) The chart itself is almost superfluous as we rarely have to consult it anymore.

If you're in need of a kid chore-management system or want a trick to help make kid decisions, try it out. If you already have something that works, let me know. My philosophy on this whole home-management job (as well as life in general) is that I use whatever works best...until something better comes along.

(Un)Choice Goods Wednesday!

2008-04-16T10:00:00.000-05:00

I figured I would change things up a bit. Today I would like to warn you against an item. My goal is to keep my fellow Earthians from making the same purchasing mistakes I've made.

I would like to advise you against buying super-cheap torchiere lamps. I'm not saying torchiere lamps in general are bad, just their cheap-butt piece-o'-crap wannabe buddies. A good quality fella adds a lovely indirect light to a room as well as acting as a vertical decorative object. One that costs you, say ten bucks, is not going to treat you so nicely. Believe me. I know.

In a moment of desperation and low financial assets, I ran out and bought the cheapest little guys I could buy. Big, BIG mistake. Let's examine the picture at left.

1. Notice the green/beige corner in the background and then look at the leg of the lamp. Problem number one: The manufacturers could really care less about the definition of the word perpendicular and certainly do not apply it to the lamp base/leg relationship.
2. Now that we've compared upright vs. angled. Let's discuss the concept of straight. If you look at the lamp leg at the area halfway between the mirror reflection on the wall and the white baseboard you'll see a little bend. Yes, that is where the two joints connect and once again, the manufacturers really could care less about joints that line up. It's apparent that their only concern is standing. Apparently if it is standing, they consider it success.
3. From this angle you can't tell, but when looking from the other side the light bulb sticks up over the diffuser (that white shade part). That's classy, I can tell you. I think this is really related to problem number one, but oh well.
4. The switch is temperamental. It will spin and spin until you get it juuuuust right. Then, and only then, will it grab hold to whatever it's supposed to grab hold of and switch it on (or off). But I'm sure that since the manufacturer's main goal for the lamp was to stand successfully, they would consider the actually turning on and off of the light an extra bonus.

One could say that I just got a bad lot. But I don't think so. I think this is just the quality you can expect from cheapo lampage. Consider yourself warned.

$10 Torchiere Lamps...they are completely not choice!

I couldn't help myself.

2008-04-15T14:26:00.000-05:00

I've done something. It's kinda bad. Especially since I'm not the most responsible of people with regards to time management.

I started playing Lord of the Rings Online about three days ago. I'm a level 13 Burglar. A cute little hobbit named Saffa. Now, level 13 in three days is nothing in the gaming world and it will, at most, incite a unenthusiastic "Yay for you." But in the real world, amongst people who can't understand the concept of trying to master a pretend world with a pretend person for no real benefit to real mankind, it means I've been logging in more hours than I care to admit.I just felt that I needed to come clean with y'all. So if you're running around on Arkenstone and see the cutest, freckliest little burglar named Saffa, say hi! Maybe we could chop down some spiders or bears together...

The Unsuspected

2008-04-14T22:54:00.000-05:00

I hadn't planned on posting about dinner tonight, but it was so amazing I had to. The dish pertneer (I love that word.) begged me to photograph it in all its lusciousness. After it was all assembled, it was so beautiful I was nervous to eat it. What if it just looked pretty and tasted, well, not so pretty? In the end, I had no reason to be nervous. It was delicious. What is IT you ask? Well.....

I recently bought the book Vegan with a Vengeance by Isa Moskowitz. I have a hunch that we have some lactose-sensitive peoples in our domicile and I'm trying to use less dairy as well as cut down on meat. After looking at a lot of the Vegan/Vegetarian book lists on Listmania at Amazon.com, I found that most people recommended this book. So...tonight's dinner was (almost) straight out of that book: Cold Udon Noodles with Peanut Sauce and Seitan.

I say 'almost' because I used the Homemade Seitan recipe from The Vegetarian Family Cookbook by Nava Atlas. And to toot my own horn, I also sprouted my own beans! They were so cute!

This dinner, heaped on one plate, fed my entire family of seven people. Three adults and four kidlets. It had:
1. udon noodles
2. peanut sauce
3. sesame seeds
4. cucumbers
5. bean sprouts
6. red peppers
7. green onions
AND
8. seitan
And it didn't just have a little. It had a lot of each. A whole package of the noodles, 1/4 c of sesame seeds, are you getting the picture?

That's it. That's what I wanted to tell you: This beautiful dinner was gorgeous, tasted delicious and fed a small army. I guess I was just excited.

P.S. My kids set the table without any guidance from me. They never set it this nice and/or matching. The one day I want to take a picture of the entire table, they decide to line things up and match. Who knew they were capable of such things? It's like backwards Murphy's Law. This never happens to me! (Of course, I did have to catch the painting-prep taped-off windows in the picture as well, didn't I?)

Factoid Friday!

2008-04-11T10:18:00.001-05:00

If the Earth is the size of a golf ball, the largest star that we know of, Canis Majoris, is so huge, that the amount of golfball Earth's that would fit in it would cover the state of Texas three feet deep! This image is just a comparison of it with our sun. Don't feel bad, I can't quite fathom it either.

I learned that watching a video by Louis Giglio. I think it was called Indescribable. (Dad, help please?) This video is different from the one I saw, but it is impacting. Take a moment to watch it. It starts out slow, but doesn't end that way...

EDIT: The one I watched was called Indescribable II. The one linked above is Indescribable I.

Choice Goods Wednesday!

2008-04-09T21:09:00.001-05:00

Choice Goods Wednesday will be continued next week...

February...check! The Bluest Eye

2008-04-07T10:00:00.000-05:00

February's book in the Reading Dangerously Challenge, was The Bluest Eye by Toni Morrison. Saturday morning I finished Anna Karenina - the behemoth - and started The Bluest Eye. I finished it Saturday night. It was such a quick and gripping read.

I'm not sure how I feel about it though. The book is about young Pecola Breedlove, a very poor, young black girl living in Ohio in the '40s. Although she is the central character, you only meet her from everyone else's point of view: her parents, her classmates, her neighbors. Morrison gives each a chapter or so and we are allowed to see their painful lives in intimate detail. And even though Pecola is the connection between all these people, the author purposely keeps her from being the focus of everyone's attention. Because that's who Pecola is. She lives on the fringe. The book is about her and yet it doesn't feel like it. She's the result. Not the intent.

It's dark. Very dark. The ever-present racism and discrimination of that time pulls all the characters into this mire that they can never escape. There is no hope.

And this is where I'm stuck. I don't know how to respond to this book. On the surface, it is a fictional piece about the truth of racism. But what is its purpose? Why tell me this dark story including everything from death, rape and incest (Think "the dad is his grandchild's father" kind of stuff.) when there is nothing I can do about it? Why craft a story that leaves me feeling that I'm impotent to reverse anything, especially considering that this is all taking place sixty years in the past?

Anyway, that's where I am. Morrison is a very talented author and her writing is incredible. The Bluest Eye was superbly written and almost impossible for me to put down (I think I only did twice.), although saying I enjoyed it wouldn't be entirely accurate. I just wish I knew what to do with these thoughts and these feelings she left me with.

Any ideas?

It's something about the word "challenge"

2008-04-06T19:56:00.000-05:00

I can't help myself. I love books and I love the world. I'm taking on one more challenge and then I'm done. Two challenges plus a book club is pushing the envelope of available reading time. My buddy, Bethany, over at B&B ex libris is hosting the Orbis Terrarum Challenge. Nine books by nine authors from nine different countries in nine months. It took me a little longer than I'm willing to admit to find my choices, but it was a ton of fun looking for them. This is what I found:

The Dubliners by James Joyce (Ireland)
The Hiding Place by Corrie ten Boom (Holland)
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak (Australia)
Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov (Russia)
A Personal Matter by Kenzaburo Oe (Japan)
The Secret Lives of People in Love by Simon Van Booy (UK)
Cat's Eye by Margaret Atwood (Canada)
The Old Gringo by Carlos Fuentes (Mexico)
If on a winter's night a traveler by Italo Calvino (Italy)

January...check! Great Expectations

2008-04-06T17:55:00.000-05:00

In February I signed up for "The Year of Reading Dangerously" Challenge. Unfortunately the challenge had started in January so I was already behind a month and a half. The good news was that my trip to Africa included about 40 hours of flying. During the trip I was able to finish January's book, Great Expectations by Charles Dickens. I'm just now able to get my review in.

What did I think of it? If you have not read it before, you must! Dickens was amazing. I love his characters. I had watched the movie years before(you know, the one with Gwyneth) and knew some of the storyline, but I was so unimpressed (and subsequently forgot a lot) with the movie, and the book was so much more complete in its story, that I enjoyed and was surprised by most of the plot twists.(I just reread that sentence and I'm not sure it's intelligible, sorry.)

I've read quite a few of Mr. Dickens' novels and I don't know if I just missed it before or if Great Expectations just had an extra handful, but it is so sarcastic. I found myself laughing out loud on the plane in a few parts.

I'm not going to critique the book or offer any sort of literary discussion. If you want a literary study, google "great expectations analysis" and you'll get 1.8 million hits.

I'm just going to say that I loved the story. I loved the quirky specifics he gave to the characters. I closely followed the choices of the hero, Pip, finding myself smiling at times, wincing at others and even wanting to smack him in the head with one of Joe's blacksmithing tools (or at least wishing Joe would). I even loved the ambiguity of the ending.

With Great Expectations, you can read one of literature's classics and thoroughly enjoy it. You don't have to "power through" or skulk in the knowledge that you just couldn't finish. It's an enjoyable read and I hope you give it a try!

Factoid Friday!

2008-04-04T19:16:00.000-05:00

It would take 1,200,000 mosquitoes, each sucking once, to completely drain the average human of blood.

At least, so I've heard...

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 4 - No, This Isn't a Zoo!

2008-04-03T11:29:00.000-05:00

One of the highlights of our trip was our safari in Kruger Park.

[Insert History Lesson] Because of rumors of gold and subsequent destruction of wildlife due to skins and ivory trades, Paul Kruger, president of the Dutch East India Company, persuaded the Transvaal parliament to establish a reserve in 1898. This was Sabie Game Park, which is the southern part of today's Kruger Park. Subsequent efforts at increasing the protected area resulted in a grand total of over 2 million hectares. (That's over 7700 square miles.) After World War I, the government of South Africa took over responsibility for the park. [History Lesson Over]

We spent three days in Kruger. It was amazing. (I've noticed that I use that word a lot in my posts.) We would get up at 430 am, get ready for the day and hop into my parents' Pajero to be at the gates when they opened at 530. It wasn't that difficult since the sun would be up with us. Then we would literally drive all day until the park gates closed at 630pm. We would stop for food and walk breaks, but in general we were driving along, staring into the bush. The anticipation of seeing any wild animal was what kept us going. The longest we would go without seeing anything wasn't more than ten minutes. I had to keep reminding myself that these animals weren't in a zoo. This was "the Wild." It was awesome.

Here's a little glimpse into what we saw. And yes, we took all the pictures in this post! Incredible, no? You've got to click on the pictures to really appreciate them. (especially those hidden little guinea fowl)

Babboons weren't everywhere. But they were common enough that by the end of the three days, we wouldn't stop unless they were doing something real picture-worthy. This mom and babe were just off the road. They were fun to watch since the young ones would chase each other and the older ones would watch us watching them as they cleaned each other. And boy are they big, with huge teeth. They were right outside our windows and we had to keep the windows up. They can be agressive if they think you have food.

These are helmeted guinea fowl. They are my favorite bird. I love their polka-dot feathers and blue heads. It was actually very difficult to get this picture since they are so skittish. We saw them at three different times, but they would always scatter before I could get a good picture.

The elephants were breath-taking. The males were all musking, which means they were all ready for some feminine attention. That also means that they were much more volatile and easily upset. This huuuuuuge bull was on the road as we turned a corner. My dad stopped, backed up and pulled over to the side. Even inside the car, we had to move really slowly when taking pictures and keep quite still so as not to startle or upset him. He walked towards us, checked us out a little, and then walked to the opposite side of road from our vehicle. Then he proceeded to rip a tree out by its roots, eat a few bites, then turned and stared us down. We were stricken dumb. Deciding we weren't interesting enough, he continued to saunter down the road. Later I found out that my dad had his foot poised right over the gas pedal and the car in gear just in case the elephant decided to charge. It was totally scary, but afterwards, completely exhilirating.

We saw so many hippo ears and eyes in the water, but never out. I was losing heart that we would get to see one and finally, on the last day, we saw, across a river, two hippos having a snack. I was so happy!

You've all seen giraffes before, so I hope you'll forgive me for not showing you his face. This picture is just to give you an idea how big they are. They were just incredible. We saw everything from babies to grand-daddies. This one was a big one. It was so close and so big, this was the most I could fit in my viewfinder.

My only shot at a hyena was when this one decided to walk across the bridge we were driving on. He never made it across. About half way something in the grass caught his eye and he was off to investigate. But not before I snapped his picture.

When we first came into Kruger, we saw Impala. We stopped and took a million pictures. They were right on the road. By the third day, we had grown so used to these numerous little deer-like guys that whenever anyone saw one, they would just say, "Impala." and we would all just nod our heads. They were everywhere. But gosh darn it, they were cute little guys.

This large girl is a Kudu. They have beautiful white stripes on their backs and the males grow these gorgeous spiral shaped horns. Their silhouette is the emblem of South African National Parks. (Go to the website link and look to the top left corner.) On her back is an Oxpecker. You see the oxpecker on all sorts of animals, eating ticks and bugs.

On the last night we were there, we went on a night drive. Since the camps/gates close at 630pm, the only way you can see animals at dark is during a guided tour. This is because some of the more dangerous animals become hunters at night. For instance, a lion will more than likely leave you alone in the heat of the day, but if you stumbled up on one at night, it would attack. Our sole purpose, besides seeing animals that you usually don't see in the daytime, was to spot the elusive Leopard. During the day, he usually sleeps and really only likes to hunt at night. Our tour guide made sure that we understood there were no guarantees. We understood. But about halfway through the drive, we saw him! It was only for about thirty seconds, but we saw him! I managed to get three pictures before my camera battery died, but it was okay. I got the mighty leopard! There are only about 200 in the entire 7700 square miles of park, so this really was a big deal. Some friends of my parents have lived in Swaziland their entire life and have never seen one!

That's all for now. I'll give you the other half later. We've only made it to L and in Africa, the alphabet doesn't end until Zebra!

Choice Goods Wednesday!

2008-04-02T19:01:00.000-05:00

This choice goods story starts with our dishwasher. Our house originally had no dishwasher. We found someone willing to give us a free one and so we managed to squeeze it in our existing kitchen footprint. This freebie had only one problem. It leaked. Just a little bit, but you couldn't run a load without first putting a towel under the door. We didn't have high expectations. That little guy did his job and that's all we asked of him. As time went on, though, I noticed he wasn't doing his job as well. And pretty soon he wasn't doing it at all. The dishes as a whole were emerging just as dirty as they went in. It was time to fork out some actual moolah.

After some discussion, we decided to buy a top of the line dishwasher. (Ours looks like the one at right but has the features of the linked one.) We have a large enough family that we run up to three loads a day. We didn't want to waste money on something that couldn't hack that kind of abuse. So what does that mean? Well, my dishes can not get cleaner with another dishwasher. We bought the best so the only variable that can increase the cleanliness of our dishes is the dishwasher detergent.

And that is my choice good for today: Trader Joe's ...Next to Godliness Environmentally Sound Automatic Dishwashing Detergent For Sparking Clean Dishes. Whew! That's beyond a mouthful.

I had read a Consumer Report's article on dishwasher detergent and found that dry detergent works better than liquid. This is because the enzymes that eat away the food are activated by water. They are in suspended animation in the dry powders. The liquid detergents just can't keep the enzymes from releasing their mighty powers before they are in the dishwasher.

Trader Joe's was ranked excellent in cleaning power and at only 19 cents a load, was only slightly more expensive than Costco's Kirkland Signature. But Kirkland Signature doesn't have the environmentally friendly aspects like being phosphate- and chlorine-free, no added fragrances or dyes and having biodegradable surfactants.

Before I used Trader Joe's I had been using Kirkland Signature's Liquid and when that was gone I had splurged on the Cascade Complete Gel. They both worked fine, but nothing spectacular. Finally, I finished the Cascade Complete bottle and got to try my new Trader Joe's. It was amazing! I could immediately tell a difference. The dishes were cleaner, especially the glasses. Even the copper bottoms of my pots are getting more copper-y again. They used to be really darkened but Trader Joe's detergent is reviving the copper a little more with every wash.

For me, the cleaning power, the lesser environmental impact and the relative inexpensiveness are a perfect combination for me.

Trader Joe's Automatic Dishwashing Detergent...it's choice!

the endless pursuit of Life

fresh veggies? yes, please.

Thank you, Mr. Pushpesh Pant.

art time!

i don't love poetry, but...

俳

my birthday dinner

balance-shmalance

techno love/hate.

clever swim-related title

the green-eyed monster

anonymity.

india...could we meet in the near future?

surprse! we didn't die!

chop chop choppy time

ta da!!

nanowrimoing gopher

geeks and dogs, just another day...

1667 words every day?!

♪♫ you're so vaaaaaaaaain...you probably think this post is about you, don't you? ♫♪

when it rains...it doesn't?

what if...

calm in the chaos

taking charge

transparency

goodbye, sweet death machine

husbandly advice

Texas: an Oregonian's view

it was there all along

it's enough to disgust ya...

an experience only angels have known...

pseudo-insomnia redux

I'm a sucker for a good desktop

"It's a girl" thoughts.

evaluating

Daring Bakers....Failure!

Bumper Sticker Awe

For the Dug-Mania sweeping the nation...

Example of when you shouldn't name your company after yourself...

Another short fave post.

Quick little fave.

A pine needle isn't that big...until it invites its friends.

Book Challenge Results

A Tardy French Yule Log

Where, oh where has that Tricia-girl gone?

Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting *OR* Better late than never

thank God we are a computer-y house

an Oregonian can only stand so much sun

Amigurumi Fun!

the shnozberries taste like shnozberries!

Get off yer butts! It's election day!

tour time!

Brain-teaser/Quiz/Game Time!

the road less traveled...well, twice traveled

How to get comments for your posts: Do what comedians do for instant applause and announce your bday/anniversary/big event.

some semblance of normality

maybe texas likes us after all...

it gets worse

Update!

Who said moving wasn't fun?

Filbert Gateau with Praline Buttercream *OR* How Satan Gets His Kicks

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 9 - Justice: Texas-style

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 8 - How to drive for days and days and days and...

The Portrait of an Arduous Read

On the road again...

what's that they say about your plate and it being full?

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 7 - The Last of Kruger

Dug and Tricia vs The World, part 6 - A Tale of Two Lions

The Assembly of Decadence...er...I mean...an Opera Cake

"life as i know it" meme

Floral Macros

Belated Mother's Day Report

31 Easy Steps To Test Your New Bathtub For Leaks and Bathe Your Children at the Same Time

Tools of the Trade - Two Great Ways to Use Your Kitchen Scales

Short But Not Sweet

How do you feel when you finish a marathon?

Choice Goods - Kitchen Scale

We've got bathtub!

cheesecake pops *or* no catastrophes for once

Eighty percent sounds pretty good, right?

Caramel Cake with Caramelized Butter Frosting OR Better late than never

Filbert Gateau with Praline Buttercream OR How Satan Gets His Kicks

cheesecake pops or no catastrophes for once