Notes from when Ryan was away.

A few nights ago, I was walking to Madeline's to meet someone for late night drinks after a strange evening. As I crossed Lincoln Street, I heard screaming from two blocks up, from someone standing by the Creeker.

"Imonna kill you! Imonna fucking kill you!!"

And so on.

I would have been more alarmed if I hadn't spent more than a few nights at the Creeker myself: generally the atmosphere is very friendly and family-like, but, as with all real families, there are going to be times when someone will threaten to kill someone else over something seemingly trivial.

The next morning, I ate at a diner and read this poem on the menu:

Spoon

Spoon

Spoon

Oh how it feels

to be dipped into the soup.

Knife

Knife
Knife
A knife
Watch out I will get you.

Fork
A fork
A fork
Oh how it feels
to be stabbed into a cake
A fork
A fork.

Lastly, I had very long an involved dream last night that involved me winning a radio contest to spend a day with a celebrity whom I can't bring myself to name. We got along great until he attempted to rape me, which I talked him out of by explaining that I wasn't going to remove my shorts and he shouldn't rip them off of me because they were my favourite pair (I pondered this upon waking up and in my half asleep state came to the conclusion that the weirdest part of that scenario was that I don't really wear shorts very often, as I prefer skirts and dresses for hot weather).

Then he left and I spent a good deal of time trying to convince my ex-boyfriend that I had actually spent the day with this celebrity and aside from him being psychotic and rapey, he was kind of fun to hang out with, as long as I avoided giving him coffee or any other kind of stimulant. 

Tender moment.

I just watched a tender moment between the two dogs: Barnaby ambled over to Jeeves, who normally rejects affection at this time of day (noon), gently nuzzled Jeeves' right eye and followed it with a gentle wipe of the tongue.

Mammals are amazing!

Granola

It's the nearing the end of winter (according to the calendar). I've had a weird couple of months, but finally (as of this week) am possibly starting to feel normal again.

I made a delicious loaf of bread the other day out of sprouted whole wheat flour. It made me want to go and buy big sacks of wheat berries for sprouting. Which then made me thing of granola, something I'd been meaning to make but never gotten around to. It was surprisingly easy and definitely one of those things that is worth the effort to make yourself. I used rolled oats and rolled barley (3 cups of each). Once these had toasted in my large (12"? maybe bigger?) cast iron skillet for about 5-7 minutes (with occasional stirring to prevent burning)- until the grains were fragrant. I added 2 cups of a combination of chopped almonds, chopped cashews, poppy seeds, flax seed that I ground with cardomom seeds and sesame seeds and stirred those around. I then added maybe 1.5 teaspoons of cinnamon and a 1/2 teaspoon of vanilla. Finally, I added 1/2 cup of honey, stirred that as best I could (the heat helps) and then popped it into a 350° F oven for half an hour, occasionally opening it up and stirring. When that came out of the oven, all toasty and smelling heavenly, I added some raisins.

I had this with homemade almond milk (also worth it! so much better than that sweetened store stuff!)and felt, well, pretty granola. Well fed too, though.

White Bean Celeriac Puree.

What I am eating right now:

Last night I was feeling sick and lazy. I also was well aware of the celeriac sitting in my fridge, needing to be eaten. Enter Mark Bittman (again!):

Can of white beans in the food processor, with 1 cubed cooked, celeriac, a teaspoon of better than bouillon. Pureed, then put in the pan with at least tablespoon of butter, salt and fresh ground pepper to taste. In the meantime, toast slices of homemade bread in the toaster oven. Once the puree is hot and the toast is toasted, spread the puree on the toast, drizzle olive oil and sprinkle with black pepper. Enjoy with a green salad.

I say I'm eating it now because I'm eating what's left today for lunch. Leftovers one of my favourite things ever.

Pumpkin & Cashew Pasta Casserole

I'm making this this afternoon but I am modifying it because I really don't like super cheesy anything - I usually feel pretty awful after consuming a lot of dairy (except yoghurt). This version has all the creamy-ness and savory-ness that cheese would provide. Here we go:

Pumpkin & Ricotta Pasta Casserole
serves 6
Olive oil
1 pound pasta, such as farfalle, small shells, or elbows
One 15-ounce container ricotta 1 3/4 cups of cashew cream (cashews in the blender with enough water to puree it into a similar texture to ricotta - I didn't make it smooth on account of the nuts that are supposed to be in it anyway)
One 15-ounce can pumpkin puree 1 3/4 cups carnival squash puree (made by chopping up 2 carnival squash, drizzling with olive oil and roasting in the oven, then peeling and putting in the blender)
2 eggs 2 tablespoons of ground flax seed plus 6 tablespoons of water whisked together in a bowl.
1/2 cup yogurt
2 teaspoons salt
Freshly ground black pepper
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg pinch of thyme
1/2 teaspoon ground ginger pinch of rosemary
3/4 cup pecans, roughly chopped (the cashews provide the nutty texture that these would give)
1/2 cup loosely packed fresh sage leaves, finely chopped
2 large garlic cloves, finely chopped (I actually did more than this, typically in recipes that call for garlic, I -at the least- double the amount)
3/4 cup grated Parmesan, divided
Heat the oven to 375°F. Lightly oil a 9x13-inch baking dish with olive oil. Set aside. Bring a 4-quart pot of water to boil over high heat, and stir about 1 tablespoon of salt. Add the pasta, and turn the heat down to medium. Cook for a slightly shorter amount of time than specified by the package. (For instance, if the package specifies 10 to 12 minutes, cook for 9 to 10, or until just barely al dente.) Drain the pasta and toss lightly with olive oil.
In a large bowl, whisk together the ricotta cashew cream, pureed pumpkin carnival squash, eggs flax seed, and yogurt. Whisk in the salt, pepper, nutmeg thyme, and ginger rosemary.
Stir in the pasta and coat completely with the pumpkin squash mixture. Stir in chopped pecans, sage, and garlic. Stir in 1/2 cup Parmesan.
Spread the mixture evenly in the prepared baking dish and sprinkle the remaining 1/4 cup Parmesan over top. Bake uncovered for 35 minutes or until golden brown on top. Let stand for 5 minutes before serving.

Lists: Current Things

-I have taught myself CSS. The website is not perfect yet, but its a nice update on the original and I'm learning a lot.

-My house smells like bread. Ryan made a delicious loaf although for lack of a lemon, he did not make the apple pie he intended. He is now knitting his sweater.

-I had a strange experience a few weeks ago that reminded me of being in middle school. I am still mulling it over.

-Middle school was horrible.

-My mossariums and succulents are thriving. My fern, however, is struggling after its near death experience in the jaws of Barnaby.  I think with some TLC, it should recover. I'd never cried for a plant before.

-I spent a lovely weekend in Connecticut last weekend. It was especially interesting because I'm reading Michael Pollan's Second Nature, which takes place in Connecticut.

Colony Collapse Disorder

Scientists and the Army have found that Colony Collapse Disorder might be caused by a virus and a fungus. Apparently not cell phones as JohnTheHippie tried to convince me all those years ago. Far be it from me to call anyone a hypocrite (I actually do it all the time) - but for someone who pretty much only has a social life (as opposed to any other kind of life, hobby or interest) and who runs that social life primarily from one's cell phone, nagging me about my cell phone usage was...well..inappropriate.

I hear he has a computer now, but I'm not going to email him. I received on or two from him in the past and theY wereALL writTTTNE ss thouhffh HIS CAT WAS wakking acorst thE keeeeeebord.

Too excruciating for this grammar snob's eyes.

NY Times fail again.

Following last week's article about some guy losing his pants, here's an article in the New York Times about people who have dogs and gardens, featuring photographs of a morbidly obese Elkhound. Seriously. And they wonder why there is a decline in newspaper sales.

Slow News Day? Poor Attempt at Humour? Both?

Why did the New York Times write an article about some guy losing his trousers?

Mortages and White Nightgowns.

I wrote this entry in 2008, with the following passage:

Last night, Ryan and I came to the conclusion that we could possibly afford to own a home in Ithaca. The median house price there is $255,000 as opposed to where we live now, where the median house price is $1.5 million.

This was an amazing excitement and I went to sleep thinking about what color I would paint the walls and what sorts of bulbs I would plant in the garden and how much money could go towards horse shows if we were spending less on a mortgage than we would on rent.

This has become a looming possibility. We have an actual meeting with loan officer today. The house is pretty much what I was picturing, in a scary sort of way.

I'm really anxious, though, because I am worried about the commitment and the expense and whether or not Ryan thinks this is a good idea - or even whether or not I think this is a good idea. It's a difficult situation because no one can tell me whether or not it is a good idea. Everyone has their own ideals.

I don't buy into this idea that owning a house is always better. Take for example property taxes in our area. Some houses have taxes that are the same as our rent. Would it make any sense at all to buy a house when we'd be "losing" the same amount of money per year with nothing to show for it and our savings severely depleted? This house we're looking at has property taxes of quite a bit less than that but still possibly more per month leaving our bank account than if we just rented. On top of a mortgage payment, it seems potentially not worth it. So how to get around this? Do we buy out of town? We're less likely to be able to rent it out after we leave and might have a harder time selling it. Ryan is perfectly happy living in a "suburb of Ithaca" but I would rather live in town, in very specific areas (I'm such a snob) or completely out of town.

I just think it's really weird that people can be so sure about buying being the right answer - this is one of those things that goes on that long list of things that I think I didn't get a memo about. A few other selections

-Women being obsessed with babies that happen to be in the same room as them regardless of relatedness said woman has to either the baby or the parent of said baby.

-Women going to the bathroom together, among many other social behaviours that I find baffling.

-Okay, I've reviewed the list and most of it is female behaviour in general (wedding fever comes to mind, rather strongly).

But the house thing isn't female behaviour, it's just current culture: It comes down to status/conspicuous consumption. You are considered a success if you can afford a house. You are considered weird if you can't afford a house/haven't bought one by a certain age. This is not to say that purchasing a house is not the right thing for certain people at certain times in their life. I liken it to my feelings about marriage or may be more specifically weddings: there is too much pressure to do it and not enough thought about it. Similarly, before I got married, I never assumed I would get married. I just thought I would continue as I had, (because there was very little chance I'd like anyone enough to want to stay with them forever) one long term relationship after the next with a few dalliances in between, until I was a crazy lady in a long white nightgown.* I never assumed I would be a homeowner, maybe because I'm just not really all that mature enough to do adult things like "plan for the future".



Obviously there are some pluses to owning a house, but I'm pretty sure everyone is quite familiar with those. Now, off to Apartment Therapy and think about paint colours along with sofa cushions that might match them.


*From an old blog:

James told me my future today. I was telling him about a guy I went on a few dates with that I just couldn't get interested in, despite his many good qualities. He was older and I don't think he'd spent much time with a girl like me.

I was explaining to James what I meant about "like me".

"You know...different. My friends are like me...but..you know..."

"Yeah Alice, you're fucking weird."

I didn't know how to take that, however he then told me that he'd seen my future.

"You'll have you're own house and a white nightgown. You won't get married, but you'll have friends. Everyone will think you're crazy except you. You'll be one of those ladies that goes to the same restaurants all the time but always orders something not on the menu."

Patent medicine at its finest

"Step right up, folks, and witness the magnificent medicinal miracle of Simpson & Son's patented revitalizing toniiic.

Put some ardor in your larder with our energizing, moisturizing, tantalizing, romanticizing, surprising, her-prizing, revitalizing tonic."

-Abe Simpson, closet huckster.


The latest in medical quackery? Drink bleach to cure your HIV, cancer or whatever else ails you. Probably more damaging than homeopathy in the short run. At least homeopathy won't kill you outright.

Roller Coasters and Preserves

An 78 year old man, a member of American Coaster Enthusiasts rode a Pennsylvania rollercoaster 90 times in one day. I can only think how totally boring that must have gotten, even for an enthusiast.

In other, more personal and more-interesting-to-me (maybe not to you) news, we spent the day preserving things yesterday. I woke up at 7:30 and then went back to sleep at around 9:00. During my "morning nap" Ryan made 2 peach not-quite-pie things. The peaches were marinating in sugar and seasonings all night. He split them between 2 baking dishes and covered them with a sweet biscuit dough and crumple topping.

Then I woke up pickled some turnips with beets, garlic and parsley, cleaned out the fridge and made plans for the vegetables and fruit we didn't get to this time. Then Ryan made Mexican escabeche.

We still have 2 lemon pies to make, piccalilli and tomatillo sauce. For dinner, I steamed some courgette ribbons and tossed them with lemon juice, olive oil, salt and pepper and had that along side spaghetti with olive oil and nutritional yeast and a lettuce salad in a miso-sesame dressing. Which sounds a lot more planned out than it was. Truthfully, it was 9:00 and I had a courgette and a head of lettuce that were both at a now-or-never stage and Ryan wanted spaghetti (he had his with pesto). The ribboning of the courgettes was because if I never have to eat another soggy, pan fried summer squash again it will be too soon.
 
I just love this time of year because of the amazing varieties of food that is in season. Most of our bounty has come from our CSA or Indian Creek Farm, the exception being the lemons - lemons are just one of those ingredients that I cannot do without, despite the fact that they have to come from far, far away. Maybe when we buy a house, I'll try and grow a lemon tree indoors.

Fall Creek Lunatic Loses Phone Outside My House.

This morning I was woken up at an even earlier hour than I normally wake up these days. Having gone to bed far too late for my regular wake up time, let alone this particular wake up time, I was unhappy about this. The only silver lining I could glean was that perhaps I should wake up fully and go outside to watch the meteor shower. I didn't do this, because I was concerned that I would run into what had woken me up in the first place, namely, a man wailing at the top of his lungs.

It started with a bit of a scuffle and then some loud moaning that at first, I mistook for cheering. It soon became apparent though, that it was not cheering, it was someone who was very very unhappy that someone else had removed his phone from his person.

At some point, after wailing and slurring, "I can't believe he took my pho-one!" repeatedly, he changed his refrain to be a combination of "I can't even call the police! He took my fucking phone!" and "Somebody help me PLEEEEEEASE!" There were also quite a few angry screams in the mix as well.

Ryan got up and phoned the police.

There were more angry words that I couldn't hear because he had moved further away from our house. The angry words were presumably with the police as it sounded like there was a second and possibly third party involved.

I still haven't caught up in sleep from my red eye flight back from Vegas last weekend, which involved spending 7 hours in the Las Vegas airport and another 4 in the Detroit airport. Needless to say, I am tired and I'd like to have my own set of angry words with that man.

Elvis Wedding in Vegas

I'm going to start by saying that I love Karen dearly and she is one of my closest and oldest friends, but she summed the trip up perfectly, on the night of the bachelorette, while some guy in a bad shirt gave her a fake lap dance at the first club we went to. She leaned over his gyrating posterior, peering out from under her devil horns and veil, clutching a penis shaped straw in one hand and said,

"I know you must really love me. You came to Vegas for me."

She's right and I knew it was true when the stripper grabbed my wrists and tried to run my hand down his baby's bum-smooth, waxed, nauseating chest. 

The wedding itself, however, was lots of fun. Easily the best ceremony to which I have ever been. Elvis was very sincere and had a decent voice. He sang us all down the aisle and then punctuated the vows with appropriate songs. It managed to be meaningful and lighthearted at the same time. They left the chapel each wearing a (plastic) ball and chain that was painted in baby blue and had "Just Married" stenciled on.

To celebrate our getting home last night after 17 hours spent getting home (most of which was spent in various airports), I made our version of comfort food: lentil curry. Puy & green lentils in coconut milk with asofoetida, home made curry powder turmeric, tomato, hot peppers, 2 kinds of basil, onions and bok choi (basically as many of our CSA vegetables tossed in as I could manage). 

Larval Humans

My father sent me a picture of a friend of his' new grandson. He sent it because in our family, our bonding is mostly done by being snarky (it was an ugly baby).


Remembering an email Ryan once sent me: 


Alice!  I don't know what to do.  I've been invited to the first
birthday of that pair of larval humans we met in the Baylands
yesterday.  It's in Sunnyvale.

I feel like I have to go because Jeff is just beyond the cubicle wall.
 But a baby birthday party?  In Sunnyvale?  Thrown by the guy who
accused me of being a food snob for not wanting to eat at some fresh
Mex trash chain?  Sounds questionable to me.

-Ryan



I responded by saying I thought it looked like an old man, but then again, I don't really think babies are cute. Once they leave their "larval stage" and hit about two or three, they become much more interesting to me. Five and six are my favourite ages and then it's all down hill.

I laughed for hours at the term "larval humans" in Ryan's email and still giggle about it. The larval humans in question were drooling red headed twins that seemed half asleep and one had a cheerio stuck to its cheek (also: what is it with little kids and Cheerios in this country? Why do they seem to always be covered in them?)

I am not one of those women that coos or gurgles or squeals or spontaneously combusts when they see tiny babies. I have no interest in holding them and often find it seems disingenuous when other women perform that silly baby dance because I just cannot fathom how anyone can be interested in a baby that isn't a direct relation. They aren't cute or soft. They don't enjoy particularly enjoy being held anymore than they enjoy existing - at least when the are really young, being held is the only non-bodily function related of which they are capable and it doesn't really count as "action" now does it?

I'm not saying that women are actually being disingenuous, it just seems that way because I am completely unable to sympathise/understand the emotion. I'm sure it's me projecting my own feelings on the situation.

Raw foods, Elitism and Grocery Stores

I read this article in the Washington Post, about a new raw food restaurant opening this morning, which is funny because I was talking about this very subject the other day with Ryan.

I like raw food. I've been to raw food parties, I've made raw food (beyond salads...) and I like that it explores new ingredients and forces creativity, most likely caused by the strict parameters. I'm also really sceptical of the whole movement - I've never known anyone who managed to stick to a raw food diet. If it is so much healthier for you, and you feel so much better on it, then shouldn't you feel good enough to continue on it for at least a long time, if not forever?

The idea, however, that cooked food is "unhealthy" is total bollocks though. There is evidence that we have been using fire for cooking for at least 125,000 years. I've read arguments from raw foodists that claim that food loses all nutritional value after being cooked at a certain temperature and that cooking food results in toxicity.

Anyway, the menu in that article sounds really yummy - but they serve maple syrup, which it impossible to make without boiling ("Finished syrup boils at 7.1F above the boiling temperature of water"). Maple syrup -part of that stupid, stupid lemonade cleanse - is often touted as "pure" and "clean" but honestly, refined, processed sugar is probably "cleaner". That's not to say we should be pouring refined, processed things into ourselves and feel free to use maple syrup for other reasons (delicious, delicious taste for one) but you can't claim that it is a) raw or b) clean.

So, as delicious as some raw food is, I'm fairly certain that the movement can be filed away in the same category as self-diagnosed-food-allergy people and Whole Foods shoppers - people who want to feel better about themselves by buying "expensive" food and deeming themselves intolerant/allergic to things as a way to prove to the world that they are worthy of attention. I'm not saying don't spend more for quality (which I certainly do - or else, if I can't afford it, I don't buy) what I am saying is don't spend more for nothing. Whole Foods and similar shops are mainly just marketing ploys - you can get the same quality basic food at shops without a philosophy for a lot less money. And we should be supporting those kind of grocery stores and encouraging their healthy options because those grocery stores are the ones that are going to be providing "food for the masses". Whole Foods is never going to open up in urban Baltimore, but perhaps Tops might. What I'm trying to say is let's take the elitism out of healthy food.

Here's a great article by Ben Goldacre, MD about Gillian McKeith, one of the worst offenders and purporters of this kind of thinking.This quote here explains my thinking (it's about two thirds of the way through the article, in the section I found most interesting):

"And that's the most sinister feature of the whole nutritionist project, graphically exemplified by McKeith: it's a manifesto of rightwing individualism - you are what you eat, and people die young because they deserve it. They choose death, through ignorance and laziness, but you choose life, fresh fish, olive oil, and that's why you're healthy. You're going to see 78. You deserve it. Not like them."

Situational Comedies

I watched an episode of a TV show called the Robinsons last night. In it, the main character gets a girlfriend who becomes, in a short time, very involved and obsessed with his family. He breaks up with her after she stands him up on their trip to Prague. The final scene is him walking into his parents house with his entire family plus the ex, plus the ex's new boyfriend all playing charades.

Ryan burst out laughing during that scene.

I said,

"It's fucking Pétra."

and he said, while laughing,

"I know, I know!"

Then we both laughed.

Instant Frozen Yoghurt

I made a ridiculously easy, ridiculously yummy dessert tonight. Frozen strawberries in the food processor until they are a icey paste, add a couple spoonfuls of yoghurt, honey and a bit of vanilla.

Instant frozen yoghurt!

Verizon Wireless Held My Phone Hostage

Yesterday I tried to make a phone call using my cellular telephone. Instead of the phone call, I was sent straight to Verizon Wireless.

I had to sit through a very nice woman trying to sell me more minutes. I had gone over my monthly minutes and she was trying to convince me to buy more. They literally held my phone hostage, forcing me to listen to a sales call. When I told her that I certainly wasn't going to make that kind of decision just on the fly and on her recommendation, she suggested she go through my current billing and we could talk about it some more. I told her, "I really have to make a phone call." she said, "Oh, I understand, but are you aware that you have reached your new every two and are eligible for a new phone? Would you like to explore your options?"

"No. I would like to make my phone call."

"Okay, well.."

And she continued with a few more things before finally telling me that the "block" had been lifted on my phone and I was free to continue making phone calls.

I think that this is a really annoying, shitty way to treat customers. I don't think that I should be disallowed to make phone calls and forced to listen to a sales call just for going over my minutes. Perhaps I am in a minority, but it made me want to think about switching carriers rather than buying new minutes. I am out of contract at the moment, by the way, which is why I think they decided to harass me.

Anti-vaccination. More exercises in wilful ignorance.

I watched this Frontline documentary on the anti-vaccine movement. The selfishness and idiocy of the anti-vacciners is astounding and appalling. Seemingly intelligent people, people who can form complete sentences and supposedly read incapable of understanding the implications of their choices.

One woman was whining about the polio vaccine and how polio doesn't exist in the US anymore, so why should we continue to vaccinate for it. I can only assume that she lives in such an insular world that she doesn't anticipate her children nor anyone her children will ever come into contact with won't leave the US. This same woman was annoyed at a nurse trying to vaccinate her newborn child against hepatitis on the grounds that it's a sexually transmitted disease. I guess she assumed no one has ever caught it any other way or and this is worse, that the chance of her child catching hepatitis from a blood transfusion or the various unknown ways hepatitis is transmitted are so low that her child would be safe. The reason I say that is worse is because she's basing her arguments against vaccinations on a minuscule chance that her child is not only part of the the tiny population people who have an adverse reaction to vaccinations but also part of an even smaller population within that tiny population that will have actual serious side effects.

In the wake of the original paper that linked autism to vaccinations being retracted and the author being thoroughly discredited, it seems that the anti-vaccinators have shifted from the hard line of "vaccine causes autism" to "vaccines might cause something". These same anti-vacciners claim that there is no harm done by their not having their children immunized, even as we see outbreaks across the world of diseases that have been under control for 50 years. (Recently: http://www.businessweek.com/lifestyle/content/healthday/637218.html). As I've said before, these people are idiots.

Locally sourced, seasonal fruit at Waffle Frolic.

The cashier at Waffle Frolic offered me bananas as my fresh fruit choice yesterday. This or preserved blueberries were my only choices because it's really important to them that they use only locally sourced, seasonal fruit. Bananas are never in season anywhere north of Mexico. It's May. Somewhere, not too far south of here (at least not as far south as Mexico) it is strawberry season. I'm not just complaining because I hate bananas, either.

That said, I enjoyed my waffle and I wished I'd ordered the...um..."twin". It wasn't as good as my sister-in-law's, but what can you do? She lives in California.

We left thinking that we should just break down and buy our own waffle iron, despite our principles against "one use kitchen appliances" (the way I rationalise the pasta maker: I use it to make my own crackers in addition to pasta).

***

Crud: Inflammation and Discharge.

More illness in the family, this time not me. My beloved Jeeves has an ear infection. More specifically, a yeast infection.

I'd been wondering why he's been cranky for the last day or so when I discovered a cruddy ear last night. His discharge notes claim I described "inflammation and discharge". I know I said cruddy, so I think that cruddy must be layman for "inflammation and discharge".

This word "cruddy" is an American term I picked up at the barn. It describes all manner of flaking, oozing disgustingness that anyone who ever has anything to do with animals is completely familiar with.

In Which Alice is Still Whinging About Being Dizzy, Learns That She is Not Going Deaf and Also About Colour Therapy

I have been having severe dizziness problems. So much so that I spent a good several days pretty much convinced that I had Meniere's disease and that I was going to go deaf. Yes, I cried about it. I was afraid to even talk about it because a diagnoses would mean that Meniere's disease definitely runs in the family, as my father has it.

"You can love a healthy person as you can love a sick person."

Anyway.

I went to the doctor for a second time, because the Flonase from the first visit hadn't resulted in less dizziness, only more anxiety and no appetite or interest in food for 3 weeks. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. I had No Interest In Food. I also had more side effects, but they are potentially of a nature too indelicate to discuss with potential strangers and certainly of a nature too indelicate to discuss with people I know in real life.

As I was saying, I went to the doctor for a second time, which I realise now is inaccurate. I went to the Cornell health office for a second time regarding this problem but saw a doctor for the first time, because I insisted. I reasoned that the higher copay would balance out because hopefully I wouldn't have to fight a massive antibiotic resistant strain of some nasty infection later in life after having been given unnecessary antibiotics by an incompetent, well intentioned nurse who should have more or less access to the internet (I'm not sure which, just different than what they have now).

The doctor told me I a) probably didn't have Meniere's (the inevitable "woohoo!" was in order, but I was trying to get him to take me seriously) and b) probably had really severe allergies. He seemed surprised that I'd had any reaction at all to the Flonase, but in my experience doctors are always surprised when you tell them you had side effects, so I didn't let that worry me. At least he didn't say what the one who prescribed me birth control pills did, "High anxiety and an urge to break things or strangle people starting approximately 15 minutes to half an hour after taking the pill and that feeling wearing off slowly over a period of 24 hours, only to start again after taking the next day's dose? Impossible. It couldn't possibly be the pills. That never happens with these pills." This doctor gave me Nasonex and told me to take it once a day, in combination with loratadine and pseudoephedrine. Apart from an increasing amount of blood clots coming out of my nose and a daily sore throat, nothing much has changed.

Anyway.

The possibility was raised by a friend of mine who is a competent nurse that I might have low blood pressure. Further questioning of my parents lead me to discover that while my father suffers from high blood pressure, my mother, in fact, suffers from low blood pressure (yeah, I thought that should make it average out too, but Ryan said that "it didn't work that way"). I thought I might try some "home remedies" for low blood pressure, to see if there was any improvement on the dizziness. That lead me to the following:

If you click on the image or follow the link, you will see the highlighted portion suggests "colour therapy". As in, wear a colour and that will help you get better.

I don't really have much to say about that. I'd like someone to give me a credible explanation of how that is supposed to work but I think that's asking too much. I'm not sure if this is "better" or "worse" than homeopathy.

Two Things I Take Issue With "Name Misspellings and People Who Just Learned What The Internet Was For"

Two Things I Take Issue With.

One, misspelling the name "Alice" like this: "Alys". Aesthetically, 5 letters is more pleasing than 4 and the nice slope made by the gradually decreasing heights of the A, l, i, and c makes for a pretty triangle as opposed the dramatic shift from the l to the y. Additionally, I abhor the substitution of the letter "Y" for an "I", almost as much as I abhor the substitution of the letter "I" for a "Y" just for the sake of being "unique". Same goes for the letter S and the letter C. If you're so desperate for your child's name to be unique, name them something like Fork and be done with it. (Incidentally, Ryan and I came to an agreement this weekend that we like the name Wilberforce).

Two, stupid people who just learned what the internet was for a week ago, being horrified that their little babies are going to be targeted by child molesters.

I read this article sometime last year and may have written about it, or if I didn't, meant to. I remembered it this morning when I read a sensationalistic entry on Open Salon about a woman discovering that one of her high school friends was in the midst of a child molestation charge. She seemed horrified that, this man, because of the innocent action of accepting a Facebook friend request, he now knew where she lived and had seen pictures of her children. She had taken all the precautions and still a pervert had "gotten in". No one pointed out to her that Facebook is simply a communication device. Him knowing where her children lived was not any information he couldn't have gotten elsewhere, supposing he was as good a childhood friend as this woman suggested. I'm not sure how Facebook really had much of a role to play in the story, except as a way to jump on the knicker twisty bandwagon, screaming, "Please, won't someone think of the children". At that rate, you shouldn't go to high school reunions, talk to people you know or take your kids to the grocery store.

I'm not saying don't be vigilant. What I am saying is don't get so caught up in the media hype that you think posting a picture of your child on Facebook will make them a target for paedophiles. I'm also saying your child is no more special ("molestable") than the one that lives next door to the molestor. So, sure, go to Megan's Law websites, trust your guts when it comes to "odd" behaviour, and pay attention to your child. There is NO evidence, however, that posting your child's picture on the internet will result in raising the odds that they are targeted by a paedophile, but it is something about which to get all worked up, have an opinion, that actuality not very controversial (everyone agrees paedophiles are bad).

The New Supreme Court Justice Nominee.

What? David Mitchell is the new female nominee for supreme court justice? 

Evil City Stringband

Scrawling on Things.

Ryan "made himself" a "new" t-shirt.

When I was in college I had a boyfriend, James, who drove a 1980's dented, abused, white Toyota Camry. He'd taken some sort of acryllic paint and scrawled across the back and the side, the word "Ferrari". He'd also taken the pain to find large Ferrari decals and stick them on the doors and stuck a smaller one on the back of the trunk.

A girl approached my roommate at the time, who was also good friends with James (he had introduced us) and asked him why James had scrawled the words Ferrari across the back of his Ferrari.

"I mean, it's a really nice car. Why would you ruin the body work with paint like that?"

I wonder if that girl would think that Ryan was really Superman.

Ignite Ithaca

The other night I went to an event called Ignite Ithaca - it was one of these events and was lots of fun. You can see some of the presentations I saw here.

One of the presentations was called "Childhood Dreams: Why They Are Important". I was reminded of it the other day when, standing in the line at the grocery store, I picked up a children's book about horses just because I (still) like to look at pictures of horses.

More on the McDonalds Ban.

"Since you've worked with the people that this ban would effect the most, I'm not sure why you think it's a bad idea. You know that some people don't have the mind to be trusted with decisions of this magnitude."

I don't think getting rid of Happy Meal toys will stop people taking their children to McDonalds or stop their children eating McDonalds ("Sunnyvale blogger said that once her child tasted fast food, it took years to coax her back to the healthful variety"). I think getting rid of McDonalds will stop people taking their children to McDonalds (and I'm all for that). I say that based on my experience working with those people.

Consider neighbourhoods where there are no grocery stores. The only choice people have is convenience store food that they have to purchase through a glass window or fast food. Banning Happy Meals is not going to stop people who grew up in that world from going to McDonalds or taking their kids there. And here, in Ithaca, there's no way my students would have stopped eating crappy fast food because their kids don't get a toy. One student used to put her 7 year old to bed at 5pm so she could be rid of him and then would make runs to fast food places throughout the evening.  Even the "healthier" options at McDonalds are not going low enough in calories to be allowed to include a toy.

The legislation is aimed at an entirely different demographic and a demographic that should know better at that.

A far better option would be to legislate what can actually go into a meal that's marketed to children. We ban tobacco for underage kids, why not fast food? It's addictive and will kill you too. And the children who grow up eating meals with lower fat, salt and additive content will develop a taste for healthier foods. 

Banning Happy Meal Toys

As much as I hate McDonalds, I think that Santa Clara County potentially banning the toys in Happy Meals is an exercise in legislating common sense, and therefore stupid.


If you don't want your child to be rewarded for eating crap with a cheap plastic toy that people "end up recycling or they end up getting left in the car" then don't take them to McDonalds.


Why is that so hard? I ask that question without any attempt at facetiousness (okay, maybe a small attempt). I really want someone to tell me why it's hard not to take your child to McDonalds, or at the very least not order a Happy Meal, if it's the toy you find so abhorrent.

Friends of the Library Book Sale.

I was really, really hoping to make it to the Friends of the Library book sale this year, but I found this article in the Ithaca Journal yesterday. I think the only person who will find local theatre actors shouting lines from Shakespeare (sorry, "reciting the works of the Bard") more unendurable than I will is my husband. 

Ways to Start Arguments in Bars I

If at a bar and you're interested in antagonising strangers or friends of friends that you may never see again, say this:

"I don't think the Beatles are amazing."

This is not to say I don't like the Beatles' music. Well. Some of the Beatles' music. It's just a really great way to piss off a stranger, I've discovered.
The conversation will start out on some musical discussion and then someone will, for some reason, mention the Beatles and then you say, 

"I don't think the Beatles are amazing."

Which is followed by an askance stare and then someone saying, "Whoa, whoa, whoa. The Beatles? They're, like, the most influential rock group of all time." 

And then, you can say, "Yeah, well, as far as the early Beatles goes, I think the black people they were ripping off are a lot more interesting."

At this point, you have made a cardinal sin. Because you are asking them to accept that the Beatles weren't entirely original. And this shatters a deeply held belief that they have probably been holding close to their heart since the first time they heard "Ob La Di." 

Then, you can start with attacking Ringo. Because he wasn't all that great, in the grand scheme of drummers. And his songs? The worst ones. Well. Unless you're 5. When I was 5, I thought "Octopus's Garden" was maybe the best song ever written. I also thought the Sound of Music was the best movie ever and trying to see if I could put my toes in my mouth was a good idea, so that might tell you a little something about my tastes as a 5 year old. 

At this point, you have thoroughly convinced them that you are one of those people who just likes being contrary because everyone likes the Beatles. 

Also, at this point, for me, I have started to pretty much disregard any musical opinion the other person might have, Beatles related or otherwise. Why? 

1) because they just abjectly love things without having much reason, or at least have failed to give me any satisfactory reasoning, beyond, "They're the Beatles. How can you not like the the Beatles?!" 

2) they are usually shouting at me at this point or at least looking very, very irritated. 

I was at the Phone Booth in San Francisco when a man told me I was a bitch for having this opinion. 

"Man, you were, like, not even born in the 60's, so how the hell would you know?"

"Well, according to what you've told me, you were born in 1967, so how the hell would you know? The Beatles weren't even touring then." 

"You're don't know what the hell you're talking about. You're just a bitch." 

Like I said before, I don't dislike the Beatles. I understand that they were very influential, particularly with regards to recording and creating. They have some really pretty songs. I just think their early songs are pretty cheesy and annoying and the people they were copying don't get enough credit.
Do not, however, get me started on the Eagles. I hate the fucking Eagles. 

Dog Ages

Just a note to people that refer to their pets as their children:

This morning, I was sitting on the floor by the bed. Ryan was sitting on the side of the bed, his legs hanging over the side, drinking a cup of tea. Jeeves was between me and the bed and Barnaby was lying on his back in front of me.

I scratched Barnaby's belly and he reached up and grabbed Ryan's toes with his mouth, causing Ryan to squeal and almost spill the tea. Jeeves leaned over and licked the side of my head. The thought occurred to me that if I had children the ages of 11 (Barnaby) and 40 (Jeeves), while chewing on someone's foot might be considered okay for the 11 year old, licking the side of my head would most certainly be unacceptable for the 40 year old. So would crying and screaming during thunderstorms and being unable to share.

The Joke's On Me

After receiving further text messages and one phone call from the aforementioned strangers, I got a text message this evening from my friend Casey. She texts me from her husband's phone because she always loses hers. I have neglected to save her husband's phone number, mainly because I'm afraid I'll call or text him, trying to reach her and he'll be at work in an important meeting or something (in fact, I think I've actually already done it).

Her husband's number and the aforementioned strangers number are quite similar.

You can guess what I did (at least I wasn't rude).

Random text messages cont.

I did get a response.

"So this works as a form of communicating?"

"Well. In some respects. Although I don't think you're texting who you think you're texting. I believe you are texting a wrong number."

"If this is a wrong number, then how are you receiving my texts?"

Pure gold.

Random text messages.

I received a random text message the other night. It read:

"We're here. Are you?"

I knew it most likely wasn't from anyone I knew, because it was sent from a bay area area code. I still have a bay area area code, so when I get random calls from 607 (Ithaca) numbers, I know that the person is very likely trying to reach me, as opposed to random calls from the bay, which are almost always wrong numbers. Like that woman who left me 3 messages for her son, trying to get him to call her back.

I forgot about the text, until this morning:

"Got your phone on?"

To which I responded,

"Yes. Who is this?"

The response an hour or so later,

"Papa"

My father doesn't use the word papa. He doesn't even use the word "dad". I call him by his first name and always have. He also doesn't use text messaging.

Just now, I got another message from the same number.

"I mean, Joe's Bar."

To which I responded (of course),

"Okay, Joe's Bar. See you there."

I'm not expecting a response, but I really hope I get one.

Absent Minded Ninny.

I am an absent minded ninny. I also suffer from "anxiety".

Today I left the house to go on a trail ride at Kathy's. An hour after getting to Kathy's and three minutes before I was supposed to get on, Casey mentioned something about the fresh bread we have been making everyday. I remembered the huge bowl of rising bread dough sitting on the counter and I remembered this story. I could not remember if I had put it away. I assumed that because I did not remember putting it away and because I am an absent minded ninny, that I had not put it away. I called Ryan, frantically, asking him to run home.
Fairly convinced that I had killed Jeeves (Barnaby goes in the crate when we are out), I handed the pony off, jumped in the car still wearing my half chaps and helmet and drove home, as fast as I could considering the state police station on the way and the big storm that slowed the traffic down.

Ryan called me when I was 5 minutes away (the drive should be half an hour from Kathy's, it was longer on account of the conditions) to say, "You put the dough away. All he got was a spatula."

***

Ryan says I shouldn't beat myself up about my absent mindedness, that instead, I should use positive reinforcement when I'm not absent minded. The problem with that is that I don't know whether I'm going to forget something until I've forgotten it. I can't pat myself on the back for remembering to do things that any normal adult would remember to do. 

***

Throwing Bricks at Rothko.

Here's a silly little joke my husband and I share:

Before we got married, my husband's Crazy Ex Girlfriend sent him several emails escalating into a final you're-a-terrible-person, your-mother-must-be-so-devastated and I-never-want-to-speak-to-you-again essay. This was all because he told her he was getting married. I could go into further detail and discuss the circumstances that led up to this, in order to satisfy my claim that she is indeed crazy, but you'll just have to take my word for it because I don't have the energy to go into it and also I have to take her possible feelings into consideration. I mean, does she really want the whole world to know that she took a bath with another one of my husband's ex-girlfriends and then called my husband's mother to tell her about it?

It was a strange thing to happen but we've somehow managed to glean some humour out of the whole situation. One of her main complaints was that we hadn't been together long enough, particularly long enough to have had a "real" fight:

"Have you guys even fought yet? I don't mean a mild disagreement either. I mean the kind of fight that makes you want to hit the other person with a brick for just a split second."

(I found that quote by searching for the word "brick" in my email)

Now, I don't know about anyone else, but I have never, ever wanted to hit anyone with anything, let alone a brick. At the time I thought it was a weirdly violent thing to say (and still do) and pointed it out. Then one of us suggested that maybe we couldn't get married because we didn't have any bricks to throw at each other and that we would need to obtain some bricks in order to be able to have a proper fight. It's a nice way to bring out the real absurdity in her statement. Ryan's mum's in on the joke too.

We see bricks lying on the side of the road and one of us will say, "Hey! Should have a fight? I see some bricks." or, we'll start a small argument about something and one of us will say, "Whoa. We can't do this. No bricks on hand."

Today on CL I noticed that there were free bricks available in Lansing.

me: Someone's giving away free bricks on CL.

Ryan: Maybe they just had a break up and don't need them anymore

me: I read the ad. Apparently, they are overwhelmed with responses.


Ryan: like, "We're getting married in May and don't yet have our bricks. Could you deliver them?"

me: "I really want to buy an expensive piece of equipment that my wife thinks is unnecessary. Are the bricks still available?"

"I'd like to bring up certain things about the way my husband puts his pants on in the morning, but I ran out of bricks last week discussing the way he takes the garbage out. How many bricks do you have to offer?"

Ryan: "I really need your bricks. man. I am totally sick and fucking tired of the way she picks at her toenails."

"My wife thinks I am lazy. I think she's fat. I can pick up and haul away as many bricks as you can offer."

"My wife spends money like its water. So, obviously I can't afford to pay much for the bricks, but as you can see, I really need them."

me: "I'm planning on asking the woman of my dreams to marry me. I want her to understand how committed I am to her and this marriage, so I'd like to stockpile some bricks."

Ryan: "My husband and I have been in a wonderful, loving relationship for 8 years, and we just recently ran through the last of our wedding bricks. Not having bricks to hand has been a real strain on our relationship. Are your bricks still available?"

To date, Ryan and I have only had two real arguments. Neither of which resulted in us wanted to cause bodily harm to the other. One was when Jeeves got too rough with me and grabbed at my head with his paws, getting his claws right in my scar. I curled up in a fetal position and tried not to vomit (I don't like people touching my scar, let alone digging their claws into it) and Ryan instructed me that I had the wrong reaction, that I should have disciplined the dog. He's right in some regards, but in the other, more pressing at the time regard, I was in too much pain and too upset to deal directly with the situation. He came around later, when I explained to him exactly what had happened and showed him the scratch marks.

The other big fight was in the Tate Modern, with extenuating circumstances. It takes some amount of talent to have a huge fight in a museum and we never resolved. Rather, we just agreed to joke about it instead of fight about it from then on with Ryan periodically sending me Rothkos that he made with Microsoft Paint. 

"The border didn't turn out as well as I wanted it to, but my three minutes ran out."

My Own Rothko

by Ryan

Dizziness and Flonase.

Picking up my Flonase from the pharmacist yesterday, I chuckled at the big sticker on the box of that showed a nose, accompanied by the words "FOR THE NOSE". The pharmacist asked what I was chuckling about. I pointed at the sticker and she replied, frowning, "You'd be surprised."

The Flonase is because I've been having dizzy spells for a week or so. Last week they were so bad I couldn't really get off the couch. It was compounded with a nasty cold, so that might have been another reason I spent the morning working from a horizontal position. Ryan came home early to look after me, which was really nice. He does nice things like that a lot, so I forgive him for giving me the cold.

Anyway, the cold left but the dizziness is still on and off and this, compounded with a recurrent pain in my ear that has been going on for about 6 months resulted in me going to the doctor. I say doctor, but actually, because my health insurance is through a university and thus crap, I went to see the nurse, who, although very, very, very (very) nice, did about as good a job as I can do at home. Except she looked in my ears, which I think would be difficult. I think she actually knew less than I do about the way the ear nose and throat works. I have great respect for nurses - there are many members of my family that are nurses. THIS nurse however just told me I had residual effects from my cold and it would go away in a few days. To which I responded NO, it's not. This is something that has been exacerbated by the cold, but it is not the same thing as the cold because I had it BEFORE the cold and it is now AFTER the cold and I still have it.  

"Do you want some antibiotics?"

"I thought you said it wasn't an infection."

"I'll go and talk to someone else."

The nurse practitioner came in after a bit and looked in my ears. Turns out that I have a small amount of fluid in my right ear possibly caused by inflammation due to allergies. And now I have a small brown phial of generic Flonase. 

I'd like to have health insurance that results in me being able to see real doctors with some regularity. In college I went in for a physical examination, done by a nurse practitioner. I had been talking to her about trying some birth control methods (this was before I knew birth control pills made me nuts). She wanted a pregnancy test before she gave me a prescription for anything. Some old lady volunteer took my blood - stabbing me many times. It resulted in nerve damage that lasted six months and made it almost impossible to do up a girth - which I had to do every day, several times a day as it was part of my job.

The nurse practitioner who did the exam got my test results back, shouted them across the waiting room. When I returned to her a week later, complaining about my arm, she squeezed my arms a few times, looked perplexed and said that nothing could have happened when my blood was being drawn, that fit the description of my symptoms. I didn't believe her, but not being the person I am now, I didn't say so. She was wrong, by the way. I checked with an IV nurse. 

This blog is so old it's become self referential.

For lack of any better material, I'm going to point anyone interested to an old entrry (of mine), from back when I was more interesting. Cheap, I know, but it was one of my favourite entries, mainly because of the title.

Have a read.

And then read the follow up.

A Guide To Arguing With Idiots.

I think that this is one of the funniest book covers I've ever seen.

I don't care who you are, republican, libertarian, democrat, communist, independent, whatever. This man is not only a moron, he is dangerous because people listen to him and the filth that he spreads is poisonous. How can anyone take his ramblings seriously?

I'm just pleased that his helpful guide to arguing with idiots has a picture of one on the front for easy identification.

READ HISTORY.

The Third Man on Banjo

I'm trying to convince Ryan to learn this. Possibly my favourite soundtrack from possibly my favourite movie.

EDIT: I keep coming back to my own blog to watch this.

Constance McMillan, Prom is Stupid and You Don't Actually Want to Go.

Apparently there is a girl named Constance McMillan whose desire to take her girlfriend to the prom has caused some consternation and outrage at her school, which resulted in more consternation and outrage after she went to the ACLU.

McMillan was told that she was not allowed to bring her girlfriend as her "date" and if they showed up separately, but danced together, they would be kicked out of the prom. She then approached the ACLU for legal assistance and the school responded by canceling the prom for everyone. Of course I have no evidence of this, but it suggested to me that canceling the prom for everyone was a rather insidious way of getting a bunch of high school kids "on their side".

"You ruined the prom for the rest of us, you big ruiner!"

I have to admit that I can't really understand the fuss. I don't understand why she wanted to go to the prom in the first place, I don't really understand why anyone wants to go to proms. I went to one, it was boring and expensive and I didn't like any of the people there except my boyfriend at the time, who, strangely, insisted that we go in the first place.

I had more fun before prom, hanging out with Margo and drinking champagne. If only we knew what a portent that was.

So, although I stalked the facebook page, because I'm intrigued by the issue, I'm declining to "become a fan". Although I wish McMillan the very best in all her endeavors and I think that it's shitty that she goes to a school run by bigoted idiots, I'm an equal opportunity jerk. I'm not going to support anyone, gay or straight, in the pursuit of such a ridiculous, out dated, overrated tradition that promotes the pervasive high school mentality that out of which, some people never grow. (Once, in high school, during our "brunch" a friend of mine once came to me and said, "My dad told me last night that these were the best years of our lives." We both contemplated the meaning of that, very sadly while hoping that it wasn't true. And, thank goodness, it isn't and anyone who tells you otherwise is probably pumping your gas)

Incidentally, someone on the facebook page actually vehemently suggested more than once that being gay was a "race" because you were born that way. By that mentality, people with Down's syndrome are a race. In fact you could even extrapolate that sentiment to suggest that people with specific hair colours belong to a specific race. Which, as a matter of fact, makes about as much sense as calling black or white a "race" - (excuse my anthropologist geekery) there's only one human race currently in existence and that's ours.

For those interested

I'm ceasing the cooking and making things from this blog and moving it over to a less personal one.

www.incidentalice.wordpress.com.

This is all in preparation for potentially starting to think about maybe selling some preserves on Etsy. I'm going to move Thing A Week there too. I'd like to not scare off potential customers/readers with my rabid atheism, extreme left wing views or my hatred of Garrison Keillor so I'm going to leave that here.

Beluga Lentils in Mirepoix

Mirepoix is a delicious combination of onions, carrots and celery, very common in french cuisine. Traditionally, the ration calls for the same amount of onions as carrots and celery combined - so a 2:1:1 ratio. This evening, we used 2 medium onions. We sauteed our mirepoix this evening in olive oil, added some salt. Once it was cooked down, the onions were translucents and soft and the carrots and celery were a rich and vibrant colour, we stirred in a cup and a half of beluga lentils and enough water to cover the beans by about an inch. Got the beans up to boiling, then turned the burner down to a gentle simmer and left  them, checking them periodically for flavour and doneness. Beluga lentils aren't of the mushy lentil variety - they stay nice and firm when cooked. It's such a simple dish yet so flavourful.

We had simple bowls of it while watching QI, but I imagine it would be nice over rice or mixed into a salad.

Victorian Kitchen Garden

I found this awesome show called "The Victorian Kitchen Garden". It's very inspiring, particularly because we want to do something similar in the future. Some of the wintery growing tips might not be that necessary, if we end up in northern California, however it is nice to know that it's possible to grow a large variety of vegetables and fruit throughout the year with out the expense of living in northern California (it's just a lot more work).

Anyway. The series is from 1987 and features a man named Harry Dodson who was taught by several Victorian head gardeners. He himself was a head gardener for an estate for many years.
 The idea behind Victorian kitchen gardens was that all the vegetables and fruit necessary for the entire year were grown on the estate in various green houses, boxes and plots. Key to this was the Victorian snobbery of wanting to have exotic fruits and vegetables throughout the year, so the gardeners were expected to provide fresh vegetables in the middle of January and things like pineapples, melons, peaches. Dodson revives an old Victorian garden, using Victorian methods over a period of 12 episodes. It's highly entertaining - well, if you're into gardening. My favourite was the chicory or Belgian endive grown in complete darkness and the sea kale grown in giant, clay, bottomless, lidded pots and buried in manure.

***

We planned our plot this morning and I'm sort of in the middle of getting an old wine decanter turned into a mossarium. I have all the bits, I have the gravel down and I'm now trying to explore ways of getting the charcoal, soil and moss down the neck of the decanter without making a huge mess.

We're tracking our gardening expenses this year, so if you include the $26 shiitake mushroom kit that my mother sent to Ryan for his birthday, we're down $78 something dollars.

More Strange Elevators: Vomiting Out of Glass Elevators

I had another strange dream last night. I dreamed I had a long conversation with an old friend in my old bedroom at my parents house. I don't remember much of it, I tried really hard because I was woken up in the middle of it by a dog banging on the heater with his tail, but I do remember him confessing to me that he gets "slightly turned on by people vomiting out of glass elevators."

I had a dream last night, what-what?

From: Alice
To: Ryan
Date: Fri, Mar 5, 2010 at 10:00 AM
Subject: dream

I  just remembered a dream I had: a new Cornell lab was opening up in Texas and we were going to have to go there. I kept asking, "For how long?" thinking - 6 months, I could stand, a year, maybe, but not forever! and you were being really evasive, saying things like, "When the projects finished." or "Well they need people there pretty soon."


You were also wearing a silk paisley lounge jacket and an ascot at the time. 
 
I don't want to move to Texas.

From: Ryan
To: Alice
Date: Fri, Mar 5, 2010 at 12:26 PM
Subject: dream

"Darling!  Darling.  I think I ought to tell you, we'll be moving to Texas.  New lab and all that, you know?"
"For how long shall we live in Texas?"
"Oh, you know, old sport.  Not long, I should think.  Only until the project is finished, what? ... I don't suppose I could trouble you to mix a stiff W and S?"
"But how long will we be in Texas?"
"Thanks, that hits the old spot.  Nothing like a good W and S, what?"
"How long will we stay in Texas?"
"Well, I say.  They need people there quite soon.  The, uh, intellectual pool is particularly shallow in that part of the continent."

Barnaby

A considerable amount of entries have mentioned my fairly constant companion for the last 4.5 years. Jeeves, Jeeps, Jeevles, Shorty, Short Lumpy, Fatty Lumpkin, House Otter, Nasty Little Grape Eater, Barley Grape, Spotty Furface, Fur Pants, Doggo, Doggo Futzf, Bonk, Bonkles...

I adopted Jeeves from the San Mateo Humane Society (search the page for Jeeves) a little after I dissolved a long term, quite serious relationship. I had come to some sort of conclusion that a dog was a sure thing. I had seen his little picture on the internet and I knew he was the right dog. Jeeves came home with me and for a long time it was just me and him, even for a time after I met Ryan.

Even since we have moved to Ithaca, he and I spend the majority of our time together because I work from home and when I'm not working from home, I'm often at the barn with...Jeeves. 

Well, my fairly constant companion received a constant companion of his own last weekend. Casey buys hay from a man who had little Barnaby chained to a cattle barn. He wasn't miserable - he was perfectly well fed and perfectly healthy. It just seemed like such a sad little existence for such a friendly, exuberant, cheerful little dog. I say little now...but we think he may end up hitting the 50lb mark.

Barnaby. Barnacle, Barnstable, Barnington, Barn-dog, Barnaclese, Barnles...etc

The Chieftains Featuring Ry Cooder

This album is, I fear, going to be like that Prairie Home Companion movie. I can't stand the Chieftains, but I love Ry Cooder, just like I can't stand Garrison Keillor, but I love Robert Altman. Although I never watched Prairie Home Companion, because I didn't think I could manage to sit through 90+ minutes of Garrison Keillor, I am listening to this album. So far, it's not terrible, but I could do without the flute and possibly the fiddle.

Black Beans with Leek over Cauliflower Puree

Cauliflower puree

1 head of cauliflower, "floretted" and the florets chopped
2 potatoes - russet or yukon gold or something similar (ie not a waxy potato), diced
1/4 cup olive oil (approx)
1/2 cup milk or soy milk (approx)
1 cloves garlic minced very finely
salt (to taste)
fresh ground pepper (to taste - I used a little over 1 tsp)

Steam the cauliflower and the potato until quite soft - the cauliflower was softer than I would eat it, were I not planning on purreeing - but I like firm vegetables. Once steamed, drain the water out of the pot and put the cauliflower and potato back in the pot. Start to break it up with a hand mixer. Add olive oil, milk, salt, garlic and pepper and then mix some more until it is smooth. At this point I turned the burner back on and let it cook some more.

Black Beans with leek

Half of the white bit of a large leek (take one large leek, chop off the green end - save that bit for stock - and the root end and use half of that. Or the whole thing, depends on how much you like leeks)
1 can of black beans - or equivalent of soaked, dried beans*
3 cloves of garlic, roughly chopped
salt
fresh ground pepper

Heat up some oil in a pan. Once it is hot, add the leeks and saute them until they soften. Add the can of beans. Add chopped garlic, salt and pepper and leave to cook in its liquid, while you puree your cauliflower - you may need to add water as the liquid reduces.

Spoon the puree onto a plate and serve the beans on top.

*I've been really doing a good job about presoaking dried beans recently and I find the flavour difference that much more worth it. It's also a better idea as far as environmental impact goes, despite what Nina Shen Rastogi would have you believe - she wrote an article for slate about canned vs dried and forgot to take into consideration the energy required for making the cans and then recycling them or that it is much easier to buy bulk dried beans than bulk canned beans - meaning much less packaging. However, we do have cans of beans on hand, because sometimes you need something quick and filling and nothing does that like a can of beans, heated up, with salt and pepper, lots butter or olive oil, with maybe a teaspoon of vegetable stock if it's handy or whatever else you want to flavour it with (curry, cayenne, oregano, basil, beer...etc).

Proper Snow.

This morning I woke up at 6:15 and looked out the window. There was so much snow! It honestly felt a little like Christmas did when I was small. Not that snow reminds me of Christmas (I've never celebrated Christmas in a place that had average winter temperatures below 40 degrees), but just the excitement of waking up to such a pleasant anticipated treat. I wanted to wake Ryan up and show him, but I thought better of it. He woke up a little anyway, looked out the window and then curled up and went back to sleep. 

This is the kind of snow I was expecting when I first heard about the supposed enormous amounts of snow that Ithaca gets. This is let's-get-out-the-snowshoes-and-go-to-the-woods kind of weather. Let's-get-really-cold-doing-fun-things-outside-and-then-come-in-for-hot-chocolate-kind-of-weather.

Thing A Week and The Supersizers

My Thing A Week plan is going well.

Last week I made this Chocolate Black Tea cake for Ryan's birthday. I substituted walnuts for the hazelnuts (because I had walnuts but no hazelnuts) and made a cocoa frosting for it. I also made a leek and potato pie, but I don't think that counts for Thing A Week because I make vegetable pies all the time. I'm ammending the original stipulations: baking only counts when it's something that I need more practice at (cakes and bread, basically).

Despite it not counting, I'd like to mention the fabulous crust I made with olive oil, water, a little baking soda and vinegar. We already typically make oil crusts instead of butter crusts, but I thought that olive oil might add some nice flavour to complement the potatoes and leeks. The trick was olive oil in the freezer for several hours, following a suggestion I read in How to Cook Everything Vegetarian. This makes an excellent butter/fat substitute, if you're interested. I don't like using packaged butter substitutes because most of them are mostly water. You can watch an extreme version of what happens when you try and cook things with fake butter on one of my favourite television shows, The Supersizers* (1:17 is where the point of interest starts and yes, that's real horse that they're cooking):

I think I'd rather go with the full flavour of olive oil than bland, processed "butterine" if I'm not going to use butter itself) Substitute the frozen olive oil into your recipe 1:1 for your normal fat ingredient, and when you are adding that and the water (ice water!) to your flour, bring it together so that it is just barely on the side of incorporated. Mine had this beautiful marbley look to it. Then it goes back in the fridge for an hour before rolling out between two pieces of wax paper (it will stick to counters).

This week's Thing A Week:

A paper mache box to store chopsticks and other kitchen utensils as part of my Organise/Decorate the House on a Budget of Next to Nil plan. I also came across the interesting idea of using contact paper to cover up ugly kitchen cabinet doors when you rent and can't do anything about your hideous dark crappy kitchen cupboards So I'm going to inspect contact paper to see if a) it looks like crap and then b) I can make our kitchen a little cheerier. Only if it's cheap though.


*it's worth watching the whole 2 seasons of this show. Two journalists (Giles Coren and Sue Perkins) spend a week each episode living as if they were in another time in history, wearing the clothes and most importantly, eating the food. My favourite episode is the Supersizers Go Wartime. Giles makes a cake using paraffin and gives American servicemen diarrhea and Sue paints her legs with gravy and eats a pair of stockings.

Seeds.

We chose seeds! We ordered from TomatoGrowers: purple jalapenos, carbon tomatoes, sweet baby girl tomatoes and a kind of sweet pepper that's name escapes me at the moment. It was really, really hard to choose. It took 4 hours. Because we have no space and no sun, so we can't really be too ambitious but we wanted the essentials and we didn't want to overlap with our CSA too much. We figured, you can never have too many tomatoes and peppers are nice too.

We're also going to sprout some of our dried beans and put in a herb window box in the bedroom (that window gets the most sun).

I thing I'm really looking forward to spring: today I made Lemonade For One (one lemon, 1tbsp sugar, 1 cup water, mix. Add gin if needed). It's not the same when you're wrapped up in cashmere, wool socks and slippers.

Although I still find the snow a bit of a novelty, I'm a little tired of my activities being so beholden to the weather. By activities, I mean "ability to fall asleep outside". Last summer, I fell asleep in the yard, I fell asleep on the balcony and I fell asleep in the woods. I'm looking forward to finding new and exciting places to fall asleep. Oh and the riding. I'm looking forward to that too.

Craftzine.

Really Craftzine? Really? Normally I love your blog. I forward entries all around, post them to Facebook and Twitter, and recommend it to my friends in person. I go to your site everyday and am possibly a better (at least more organised, possibly more creative) person for it.

This entry makes it seem like you've run out of ideas. 

Who hasn't figured out how to make a pasta dish by the time they've moved out of their parents home?  And if they haven't, they probably have no interest in cooking anyway and wouldn't be reading Craftzine for cooking tips.

This goes in the same category as the article I read in the Palo Alto Weekly several years ago that recommended using "heavy objects" such as rocks or bookends to keep books in place on shelves. Rocks, along with cowboy boots filled with rocks and doorstops, can also be used to keep doors open. Another article in the Palo Alto Weekly that recommended stacking smaller pots inside larger pots to save kitchen storage space*



*although I don't have copies of the articles in question, I assure you both of those were real articles.

Ludgate Farms

Today we went to Ludgate Farms and I was disappointed. I think I was hoping for another Milk Pail, which is this awesome grocery in Mountain View that is always unbelievably crowded for a very good reason: cheap, fresh produce, an amazing cheese selection and a substantial bulk department. It's where you go to buy ingredients for delicious meals that you are making from scratch . I've bought a weeks worth of groceries there, for two people, for under $20 and that included food for having people over for dinner one night.

Ludgate Farms was not Milk Pail. While the produce itself was fine, there wasn't very much of it, which I will forgive because it's the middle of winter. Produce aside, the products that they did have were all covered in dust and not only that, a lot of the available items were either close to or actually passed their expiry date. The ones passed the expiry date were usually offered at a discount. My feeling on this is that I don't really want to pay anything for rancid olive oil, so discounts aren't really going to help. That and everything was unbelievably overpriced - $16.00 for a box of Emergen C? That's twice what it costs elsewhere. Believe me, I'd rather shop local and I understand the plight of the small business but I do not have unlimited funds and I can't afford to pay double. What was most frustrating was their "bulk" section, which wasn't "bulk" in the sense that you bag it yourself or that it's cheaper than the prepackaged version. You buy what they've bagged and tagged for you, already (read: no bins) and then you pay more than you would at Greenstar (for example), which up until going to Ludgate Farms, I thought was expensive.

What they should do is get rid of those millions of bottles of olive oil and premade pasta sauces and preserves and just focus on selling good fresh produce and install bulk bins and offer competitive prices.

Thing A Week

Last year, I tried to participate in Thing-A-Day 2009. It did not go well. Sometimes I make several things a day, sometimes nothing at all. I think it might work if I were completing pieces for a larger project, like, for example hexagons for an afghan - something very small, quick and simple but still working towards a larger, more useful project. Part of my problem is that my main "chosen medium" - that is my "craft of choice" is knitting, and even the simplest of quickest knits can take hours. Not suited to banging out a thing a day. Additionally, functional elegance is really important to me, so I was discouraged by the round trivet I was >trying< to make, that ended up a useless flower that lies around my house annoying me - I can't throw it out because I made it, I can't frog it because I felted it, but there isn't much of a point to it.  I tried to include cooking as part of my creative sprint, but I cook almost every day, pretty much from scratch and not every meal is a feat of amazing, complicated, creativity, it seemed like cheating to count a simple broth with chopped vegetables and udon noodles as a "thing" but if I added home made dumplings to that meal then it did count? I guess it just didn't seem like I was stretching myself enough to count meals. 

 So I've decided to make my own challenge. Thing A Week. Starting at the beginning of this month (February) I am going to complete at least one thing a week. Meals don't count, but baking, preserves and pickles do as do "ingredients" things like dumplings, fresh pasta and large batches of curry paste. And I'm going to do it for a year. The project doesn't necessarily have to be started and finished in one week, I just have to complete at least one thing a week, hopefully this will encourage me to finish projects.

So. I've finished Casey's neck warmer and Ryan's hat. I have some other knitting projects started. And I'm going to attempt a cake this morning. After cleaning the kitchen and bathroom and possibly doing some laundry. Do those things count?

EDIT: Drinks like the barley water I made two weeks ago (delicious but I failed to document it in any form other than a chat with Miss Margobee) and this great idea for Lavender Lemonade totally and utterly count.

Huge storm and neck warmer

The huge storm I mentioned in the last post is apparently happening at the moment. Except, it's not as big it was threatened: I think we are getting the edge rather than the middle.

Ithaca is not as snowy as people who you tell you are moving there would like you to believe. Sure, it's snowier than Palo Alto, but a lot of places are. Everyone who had heard of Ithaca gave us the, "Better get used to winter! It's really snowy there! Snow all winter! Snow, snow, snow!" upon hearing we were moving here.

But it's no where near as snowy as Tahoe, which was what we thought about when we thought "lots of snow".

So right now, it's snowing, it's been snowing all day. Outside is very quiet - the noise is dampened by the snow. And to be fair, there is quite a bit of it. But in a few days it will melt and outside will be wet and grey and ugly.
Anyway. I'm glad of the opportunity to experience several "real winters".

Here's what I've been up to, when not working:

It's a birthday present for my friend Casey, who hopefully doesn't read this blog.

Spring flower preserve plan.

We're due for a huge storm on Wednesday. 90% chance of snow all day long. Right now, it's 18 degrees F.

I'm looking forward to spring. 

With that in mind, I've started to think about the jellies and jams and tasty preserves that I want to make. Last summer, Ryan and I made pots and pots of Cornelian cherry jelly, from Cornelian cherries, scrumped from Cornell Campus. 


In Northern California, spring comes for a couple of weeks. I used to mentally remind myself to enjoy the daffodils, naked ladies and tulips while the lasted, because they only lasted 2 or 3 weeks at most. I did the same thing this last spring, here in Ithaca. I kept reminding myself to enjoy the spring bulbs because they wouldn't last. But they did! For weeks and weeks! I've never seen so many blooming flowers all at once. Snowdrops, tulips, narcissus, daffodils and best of all thousands of violets. So I've decided to try violet jelly this year. There is also an abundance of crab apples at the airport that we didn't manage to get to last year, so I'm thinking crab apple lavender jelly and I've recently found out that people make jelly out of geraniums!