A Day at the Beach

Last day of Spring Break. Trixie and I went down to the beach, and we had a blast. Impera comes back on Sunday (did I mention she has spent Spring Break in Iowa? I'll have to check my recent posts).

We saw cute dogs staying mobile, ate a crazy snack, and found some lovely treasures.

You can see more of the photos in the flickr set.

It's That, or Early-Onset Alzheimers

I think Trixie has played a series of April Fools jokes on me. It took me 5 minutes to find my keyboard, and I still can't find my pencil cup (full of the pencils I need to do my editing).

How to ... Organize Your Week's Menus

I've gotten the idea in my head that it would be terribly fun to put together an irregular series of "How to" posts. Heavy on the photos, that way I would have an excuse to purchase a gorillapod be able to combine my blogging with my photo diary. In my head, these are fabulous. I don't know how well they'll translate from brain cell to computer screen, but you have to take risks sometimes in life.

I don't have a gorillapod yet,Once I get a creative idea, I need to start it right away, before the exuberance dissipates and I'm left with ... nothing. So, consider this the beta version of my new "How to" series.

Ahem.

We are menu planners. This is for several reasons, including (1) the Consort and I share cooking duties so a written menu helps us get a sense of what the other will be making (this is an imperfect method, however, because unless both cooks actually *look* at the menu, you may end up with pasta two nights in a row, or chard twice in the same week!), (2) we are recipe-followers; there's nothing more stress-inducing than having three-quarters of the ingredients needed for a particular recipe, which is what would happen if we just cooked on the fly, (3) some of us have bad memories, so unless it is written down, he'll forget what he had planned to make and which cookbook it came from, (4) it's an easy way to record what activities are planned for that week, (5) it provides us with a surface on which to record items needed for the subsequent week's shopping trip.



This menu is proof positive of something I've said for quite a while: I am a one-pot-meal-maker, and the Consort is a multi-dish-dining-experience guy. Fist he made us some buckwheat linguini as well as a celery root soup, but even on his "off" night, his spanakopita included a side of salad! Me? Colcannon (mashed potatoes, sauteed leeks, and kale -- all mixed up together) and cauliflower-macaroni soup. It's gonna be mushed up in your stomach anyway, I just start the process for you.

Here's a hint as to how to tell whose menu will be made that night: If it includes fruit in it, or beside it, then it is the Consort's meal. This past week, he thought that adding a side of canned mandarin oranges was *just* the thing for a middle-of-the-winter supper. Sometimes, he thinks adding kumquats to a stew is just the right touch. On those nights, Impera and I look at our plates, cringe, then eat our food. Trixie and the Consort, meanwhile, are humming happy tunes as they eat their fruited meal. it takes all kinds.

As the week progresses, we are less interested in cooking, so we'll have a leftover night or a pasta-and jarred-sauce night. Fridays are typically pizza nights. I don't often write it in, though, because I don't want the girls to hold me to an impossibility. For example: this week I actually made my soup for Wednesday night because on Tuesday my mother-in-law invited us over for Thursday supper. She made pizza, and I *know* that, because the Consort wrote "pizza" under the F, I'm going to hear about it when I announce that we'll actually have pasta tonight. "There's nothing wrong with having pizza two nights in a row! Mom!!!" How much do you want to bet?

Now that the girls are getting older, and they are adding their requests to the "to buy" section of the menu, I'm enjoying the conversations that take place on the list. Their entries usually include ALL CAPS, BECAUSE THEY DON'T WANT US TO MISS THEIR REQUESTS, and exclamation points! because they really! like! the food! they are requesting!!!

If you click on the picture, you'll be brought to the flickr page, which includes several informational notes about this week's menu.

Falling Apart? I Should Hope Not!

I was able to see the chiropractor yesterday, but I'm still not very comfortable typing for too long. I don't know if I like this chiro so much. He's one of those crack-your-bones chiros, and it just doesn't feel as nice as my Iowa chiropractor and her spinal adjuster (see the Web MD video) (plus electro-stim therapy and massage therapy!). After 5 minutes of twist and (don't) shout, this one is done with me and on to the next patient. I have to stick with him for a while, though, because I'd been paying the out-of-area copay of $30 (since our insurance is based out in IA). I recently noticed on the insurance sheets that they've been reimbursing him at the local rate (which has a $15 copay). Instead of cutting me a check, the chiro would like to just have us (Trixie and I, the two chiropractic patients of the family) come in for as many more visits as we had accumulated until this point, without paying anything additional. He's also just down the street, so we walk there. A nice savings of time and fossil-fuel use.

I've also noticed that my left eye is rather red. I was going to insert the picture into the post, but then decided it might not be pleasant for anyone to see it unawares, so you can just follow the link if you're interested.

This happened for a few days about a month ago (right at my birthday, in fact). It went away on its own. I don't think it's conjunctivitis because there is no discharge, no itchiness, no dry eye. It's just ... red. Two days ago, I began using my nice (i.e., expensive) shampoo again, after about a one-month hiatus (I had put it in my pool bag, and forgot it was there*).

Hmmmm. Could this be related to the shampoo? I'm not sure, because this was my daily shampoo for about a year (until I forgot about it in my bag). But in any event, I think I'm going to start using un-shampoo again.** Because at least it will give me the feeling that I am doing something about the redness, even if it is just a placebo.

Oh, and the post title? I'm starting to worry that now that I've passed the big Four-Oh, all I'm talking about here is my body's shortcomings (falling on the ice -- that's an 80-year-old's thing, not mine! -- and this mysterious red eye). 40.1 is not old. It just isn't. (Right?)

I am not falling apart, I am not falling apart, I am not falling apart [lather, rinse, repeat]


*The astute among you may wonder why I forgot about the shampoo in my pool bag, if I've been going swimming 3 times a week as I had planned. Yeah, well -- let's not go there. The spirit is willing but the project deadlines make me weak, alright?

**I did the unshampoo thing (baking soda and apple cider vinegar) for about 6 weeks last summer before the move to NH. It worked just fine (no oily hair, no tangles either), but it just made my hair feel ... heavy. I always meant to document this failure here on the blog, but I forgot. Perhaps I should keep you all informed as I do it again now.

My Christmas Loot

My Moo order has finally arrived! So I can now record for posterity my Christmas loot. Back before Christmas, Trixie emailed all my relatives and told them that she knew I would love a Williams Sonoma gift card for Christmas, so did anyone want to pitch in for one? (I knew nothing about this, and I was touched by my baby putting all this together on her own -- that was actually the Christmas gift part for the mom in me). She got such a great response that instead of tying me down to one retailer, she gave me the collected offerings in a card and told me I should just buy whatever I wanted with the cold, hard, cash (this was a wise suggestion from the Consort). The deal was, I had to spend it all by my birthday (January 17), so that it wouldn't just fade away into regular purchases.



The first thing I did was get a chicken pitcher. I first came across this at a local Italian restaurant. If you chose the 2-person prix fixe menu, it came with a "chicken-pitcher" of wine. Chicken pitcher? Yep, chicken pitcher. They are a traditional Italian pottery, and come with a story of attempted betrayal. I could have purchased this at Williams Sonoma, but the restaurant was selling them, too, so I went with the local merchant.

Then, because I'd really like to start baking sourdough, I bought one of those wicker brotforms (later in the week, we'll see if mine turn out as lovely as the ones in that link!). I'm taking advantage of the fact that we live right by the headquarters of King Arthur Flour this year -- so again, a local purchase rather than a Williams Sonoma one!

In the fall, I learned about postcrossing from Marsha. It's an international postcard exchange project, and it's been a lot of fun participating. I bought a pack of New Hampshire themed postcards to use, and I was almost out. So I decided to order Moo postcards made from some of the photos I've taken during our summer and fall escapades. (Nope, not local -- they're based in England.)

I also bought the Jake Shimabukuro CD from iTunes. Have you heard of him? He's a ukulele player from Hawai'i (of course) who has revolutionized the instrument. No longer just for Don Ho-style "Tiny Bubbles", we can now hear ukulele versions of things like While My Guitar Gently Weeps (blows your mind!), Ave Maria (glorious!), and, believe it or not, the Star Spangled Banner. Really. (So I guess you don't have to believe it or not, 'cause I just told you.)

And lastly, do you notice that skein of yarn in the bread basket? Yep, I bought some more sock yarn. I made a shawl with Noro (a Japanese yarn) a couple of years ago, and they've just come out with a sock yarn. The colors are, ummm, pretty vibrant, but I figure, if you're making hand-knit socks they might as well be visible! Another local purchase (in the sense that I bought it from a local shop -- but Noro itself is pretty distant!).

So, for those of you who participated in this Christmas gift, I say: Thank you! I'm very pleased with the things I chose with your cold, hard, cash. ;-)

Game Playing at Imperatrix's House

Snippets occurring during a game of Rhymation the other night. Time is of the essence; the sands are falling!

Consort: OK. Your character swims too far out in the ocean in World of Warcraft, you have...

Trixie:Fagitude!!!!*

-------

Impera: Right before Frodo tossed the Ring, he did this.

Imperatrix: Stumble?

Impera: No.

Imperatrix: Hesitate?

Impera: No!

Imperatrix: Pout?

Impera: Mom!**

-------

Impera: Another word for not sharp.

Imperatrix: Dull!

Impera:No. ... Let's see... It's also a way to use marijuana.

Imperatrix: ???

Imperatrix: ???

Impera: Mom!***


* Fatigue. She sees it all the time on screen when having her character swim rather than take the boat between cities, and would mix up the letters as she would try to say the word.

**I can't remember what this one was. Maybe when the girls get home, I can edit.

***Blunt. I have never heard that term. Others, but never that one. What? So, I'm a nerd who doesn't like cigars. Sheesh! And what's up with Health class? I think they are going too far. Having my daughter know these terms so well it's second nature to use them in a family-friendly game. I tell you!

Christmas is Coming, the Goose is Getting Fat

In the past week or so, I've joined in the current blog-wide disbelief that Christmas is actually SOON! This year we're not having a cookie party, so the typical post-Thanksgiving baking rush has been absent. We haven't gotten our tree yet (although that's supposed to change this weekend), and, although we've watched "A Christmas Story" and "It's a Wonderful Life", there hasn't been much holiday audio being played in the house.

Last night, I realized I had at most one week before shipping deadlines would arrive. So today, after packaging up a project and setting it outside the door for my FedEx guy to pick up at his leisure, I wrote out a big list of Things Still Needing to Be Bought, numbered the stops so I could made one continuous loop and not waste time (what? doesn't everybody do this?), got in the car, and off I went.

Despite the idiocy of certain sales staff, despite the long Christmas-season lines (exaggerated because by the time my project was wrapped up, it was hovering around lunch time, so the typical lunch crowds were out as well). and despite the beginning of another snow dump (today was the first time I was driving around while hte snow was falling, so I had to deal with the snow-accumulation-on-windshield-with-some-melting-and-some-freezing-at-the-same-time-making-it-difficult-to-see-out-the-darned-windshield experience), I made good progress, and can now welcome in the season with a smile on my face and a Christmas carol on my lips. Phew! I was wondering if the holiday spirit would ever arrive this year. To those of you who haven't gotten it yet: never fear! it'll arrive in good time. Just don't force it.

This week I also began a six-month membership at a local community gym. Twice already I've gone in for some lap swimming. I had forgotten how nice swimming in the winter can be, especially in a pool surrounded by big windows (for lots of light) and in water that is not too cold nor too hot. Aaaaaaah. It's a *nice* type of tired that you get from swimming. As I get braver about participating in activities at the center, I may try my hand at Spinning (no, it doesn't make you dizzy, it seems to be stationary-bike routines [I may be the last person in the civilized world to hear of this new type of exercise]), and maybe even finally get comfortable using weight machines. i'll just have to figure out when all the other newbies are going (or, better yet, when no one else is in the weight room), so I won't make a fool of myself.

And don't think I haven't noticed that my holiday cheer happened to arrive the same week I started doing some physical activity again -- it's been too long since we did a weekend hike. I suppose I was missing it more than I thought.

Taking Over the World

All right! Your comments on yesterday's post have given me hope that if I gave a revolution, some people would actually show up. Who knew that I could start my revolution right here?

Now, I'm just going to assume that when KathyF said she was going to tell her vets what I was up to, she meant it in a nice way (because a coup would never work without some military support), and not an I'm-going-to-denounce-you-to-the-authorities kind of way...

Definitely, I would provide the benefits I proposed for vets for everyone. Taxes would go up (significantly), but it would make the world a better place if everyone had guaranteed health care. (But face lifts and viagra would not be covered by me. Period.)

Gil Scott Heron was more right than he knew: The revolution will not be televised (youtube video); it will be blogivised!

And if this piques your curiosity about Gil Scott Heron, may I suggest my favorite, "Whitey on the Moon." (video or audio only)

"Hey lady, you wanna see my soap nuts?"

Ever on the lookout for ways to reduce the family’s ecological footprint, a little while ago I ordered a bag of soap nuts.

What are soap nuts, you ask? This:



They are the dried fruit of the soapberry tree. They contain saponin, the sudsy cleansing agent that is found in several plants, including soapwort and quinoa.* You take about five soap nuts, put them in a small sack (a sachet-size sack), and toss them in your washing machine with a load of dirty laundry. Your clothes get clean, without artificial detergents, perfumes, or additives. We ordered a 1 kg batch for $30. You can use the same soap nuts for five loads of wash (the Web site where I ordered them says 1 kg would wash 200 loads of laundry, so about 15 cents per load). Thirty dollars didn’t seem too much to risk in trying out an eco-friendly product.

I’ve used them for the past two laundry cycles, so about eight loads’ worth (I switched out the berries after 5 loads – I am nothing if not a direction-follower), and so far, I am happy with them. The berries themselves smell slightly vinegary, but the resultant clean laundry just smells fresh, without a scent. That’s a big plus in my book. I do not understand our cultural need to layer on so many scents: laundry detergent, fabric softener,** dryer sheets,** scented soap, scented shampoo, scented conditioner, scented moisturizer, scented deodorant, topped off with a heavy spray of perfume/cologne/aftershave. Sometimes, I can barely breathe with the amount of mingled scents others waft around with them.

Zephyr doesn’t like it when we leave her alone (not a non sequitur, just give me a minute). When we came home from an afternoon out on Sunday, we found one of the duvet covers splattered with chocolate stains and a few empty fun-size wrappers. Zephyr clearly had gotten into the Halloween treats and had herself a little party. Bad dog!***

I washed the duvet cover yesterday with soap nuts, and this is how it came out:



Do you see any stains? Neither do I. The soap berries successfully passed the stain test! (Although I probably would still treat a stronger stain, like blood or tomato sauce, say, with detergent; but it still represents a significant reduction in the amount of detergent used.)

15 cents per load, no obnoxious perfumes or dyes, no phosphates, no petrochemicals, no plastic jugs or cardboard boxes wasted (the list can be endless...), made from a renewable source, and they are biodegradable (*sigh*, I miss my compost!). I definitely would recommend them.

(Oh, and the title of this post is an homage to my favorite stand up comedian.)

* In fact, when we shared a house with friends in California, we grew quinoa, and the Consort used the saponin we removed from the grain (it has to be removed in order for the quinoa to be edible – imagine getting a mouthful of soap!) to wash his hair.
** I don’t ever use this, by the way.
*** All I can say is, thank god we had closed the bathroom door and the trash can in there was not accessible to her!

A Friendly Word of Warning

If you happen to find yourself alone in the house in the early afternoon, and you decide to indulge in a mid-day bath; ... If, while drawing this bath, you decide it would be fun to read that book of essays, which happens to be in the living room; ... And if, already disrobed, you walk into the living room to take the book off the shelf,

do not,

I repeat--do not,

forget that the windows in this house have no sheer curtains.

For this said un-sheerédness will allow any passer-by to glance in and take a look at you in all your glory, requiring you to execute the fastest damned Stop, Drop, and Roll ever seen.

Deviations from the Mean

Earlier this week, I came across the Carbon Conscious Consumer site, and, without really thinking about it, signed their Monthly Action Pledge.

It sounds like a great idea. Each month, you pledge to make one small change in your life (because “BIG changes start with small steps,” as their tagline says). You can also win prizes depending on how many people you get to sign up (so totally not my thing, but hey, whatever works to rope in the most people, right?).

Then I took a look at what I was pledging to do, as well as the list of previous monthly pledges, and it seems that I’m not pledging to do anything more than I already do (sort of like me signing a pledge to not eat beef for a month).

I think I have a disconnect with what constitutes normal behavior. I know I always get into trouble when I specifically request input from my readers (you all will comment away happily, until I ask you to, and then the comments dry up, like *that!*). If you were so inclined, could you tell me which of these actions you already do on a regular basis, which you wouldn’t do, and which you might do (but it would be a sacrifice, no doubt about it). I’m not trying to shame anyone, but I’m just curious how far from normal the Consort and I really are.

I’ll go first.
The C3 Challenge Actions:

1. In July we asked you to Eat Locally - Buy one pound of local food a week.

During farmers market season, we buy practically all our produce from the vendors. On a regular week we might bring home: a bunch of broccoli, a bunch of chard, brussels sprouts, onions, potatoes, tomatoes, garlic, eggplant, celery, a melon (pee-yew!), some blueberries, cheese, and salad mix.

2. In August we asked you to Downshift your Driving - Carve out one car-free day a week.

The girls walk to school, the Consort bikes to work, I work from home. When we take the car, we try to combine errands into a single trip. We shop for dry goods once a week, rather than pop in at the store every couple of days.

3. In September we asked you to: Junk Your Junk Mail - Use online forms to eliminate most of your unwanted ad mail.

We did this years ago. We don’t sign up for catalogs, and cancel them when some slip through.

4. In October we'll: Break the Bottled Water Habit - use a non-toxic reusable bottle for water on the go! And a high-quality filter in your home.

We rarely buy bottled water. We each have a Nalgene water bottle that we use for hikes (and the girls use theirs to bring water for lunch at school; they pack a lunch every day, BTW). The Consort doesn’t use disposable cups at the office, and I try to remember to bring a travel mug when I buy a cup of coffee at the library (where I hang out on fencing nights, so I don’t have to make two round trips to drop the girls off and then pick them up again two hours later).

We drink tap water in Des Moines, and I started using a Brita filter this summer when I was not too sure of the quality of the water coming out of the pipes here in NH.

5. In November we'll: Clean Green – Cold wash your clothes and choose the no-heat dry cycle on your dishwasher.

OK, I do one hot and cold load per week. But I only do laundry once a week, so the loads are always full. The girls do their own laundry, and when they actually get around to doing their wash, the amount of clothes they let pile up has gotten to the full size, as well.

We have always used the no-heat dry on our dishwasher. I usually open the door when the dry cycle starts, and let things air dry. Since July, we’ve done all our dishes by hand. (The girls are hoping we find a used portable dishwasher soon. But they aren’t complaining.)

6. In December we'll: Bring Your Own Bag – Neither paper nor plastic when you take part in “The New BYOB.”

We bring our own bags to the farmers market. When we aren’t purchasing more than will fit in our arms (book shopping, for example), we’ll say, “No sack, please.” (Yep, I really say “sack.” It’s one midwestern thing I’ve adopted quite happily into my speech.)

We do get at least one paper bag per week and use it to collect our newsprint, etc., for recycling. We use the plastic bags from the grocery store to line our trash cans. We don’t buy special boxes of “trash bags” for that.

There you have it. Anyone else want to share? (And go take the C3 pledge, if you like, too.)

Multimedia argument

Consider a man, who, during those halcyon pillowtalk days of yore, is told, “You have the largest, brownest eyes I have ever seen. *Sigh* They are so beautiful. Like a big, loveable, puppy dog’s eyes.”

And who responds to his beloved with:

Your eyes remind me of a turtle!



Consider a man, who, upon first hearing this song:

Says:

Eeeeesh. She sounds like she was high when she wrote this!

Consider a man, who, when played this capture (from this Slate.com article) of someone breathing heavy (“light” snoring),



when told this is what he does from time to time, and is asked if this is a good representation of what his beloved does from time to time, replies:


Ummmm. What you do is more what one generally thinks of when one hears the term “snooooorrrrring”.


I ask you, can this man’s judgment be trusted?

Clearly, no.




Right? I mean, gosh—I hate the fact that I have no control over what I sound like when I’m asleep. I hate not being in control, period. But. For full disclosure purposes, when I wailed that now I would never feel comfortable sharing a room with anyone ever again, this selfsame man reassured me that (a) he hadn’t noticed an occurrence of this snoooorrrring in the past year, and (b) it didn’t really matter because he was planning to be the one to share a bed with me for many more decades to come. (Awwwwww. [But I’m still never going to forget the turtle comment!])

Ooooo! And isn't this embedded playlist thing cool? I think I may have to start using this.

Portrait of the Artist as an Unfocused Woman

“Wow! Our living room is so bare in our itty bitty sabbatical house. And the walls! They exude such … beigeness.”



“But hark! What do I notice to the side there? Could it be? Yes! It is! It is a framed loon triptych*!



*think* *think* *think*

“I bet I could make a wall hanging to fill that space! Yes, indeed. In fact, I found this cool method for making wavy seams. I could totally make something for that space. Totally. In fact, all I’d need to get started is twelve fabrics!”



“Okay! Let’s get started. Wait—it’s too difficult to wavy-cut 42-inch lengths of fabric. I know, I’ll have 20-inch strips, but I’ll stack them, so I’ll still get 40-inch height.”

*cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron*

“Grrrrrr. This is taking a looooong time:”



“Gosh, I’m only two thirds of the way done. Hmmm. I know! I’ll just do the last third with the strips going horizontally:”



*cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron* *cut, match, sew, iron*

“Bored now. What can I do? … Dang! I’ve forgotten to use one of the fabrics! Oooh! I think I have a solution. Tadaaa!”



(And a curse on anyone who even thinks that this looks like an upside-down flag.**)

“Hmmm. This doesn't look anything like how I envisoined it.

"Urgh. I need a beer. And maybe a multi-day break from this project."



*No, actually, it isn’t.
**And a pox on anyone who reminds me that originally, this was going to be two strips high. I’m just going to make a wider border than I planned, is all.

Rambling Catch-Up Post

Oh, my goodness, people! I stay offline for four days (two of which were weekend days), and I come back to 67 new posts! Some of you posted 6 or 7 times in that short span. How on earth am I going to catch up? And what on earth are you all doing posting multiple times over a single day?

[N.B.: This has turned out to be quite a long post. I’ve helpfully highlighted the important asides with italics, so if you’re in a hurry, just skip the blah-blah and read the meat of the story.]

First, about my previous post. Some of you wanted to know what blogs I was referencing. Well, I can tell you about them, but I won’t post links. These are just regular folks with blogs and it wouldn’t be fair to give them traffic just from people checking out how poor their life skills are (plus, I wouldn’t want them to come back at me and kick my pixelated* ass, you know?). One of them is the blog of a woman who just doesn’t seem to be able to look past herself in larger issues, and who has a bit of a problem making mountains into molehills with people she disagrees with. She also is a typical American in that while living in a foreign country, she practically alienated an entire university department by attempting to bully her advisor and other mentors into letting her do things the way *she* wanted to do them for her doctorate, rather than following the method of her adopted country. (Not everyone does things like Americans, you see?) The other blog I have a macabre fascination with is a woman who is clearly working through some issues (healthy), but is in a relationship where they seem to drink a lot (not healthy). She has become used to a child-free life these past two years, which is a fine choice to make, but really wants her kids (currently living with their dad) to come live with her. I don’t think it will work.

Why do I keep checking these blogs out? Probably, I’ve decided, because I am a snoop at heart who is working very hard to break the generational snooping behavior she was exposed to as a child. I’m not doing it to my children, so I’ve redirected my proclivities towards total strangers. I don’t know if this is a good solution, but the Internet makes it so easy!

Some of you thought I was talking about political blogs, but no. I just cannot imagine keeping sane if I were to regularly read conservative backwash. Ugh.

Aside #1: I’ve been trying to read more nonfiction lately, but my choices aren’t inspiring me. Mostly because I know it wouldn’t be healthy for me or my family if I were to read right-wing ulcer-inducing baloney, but the things I am reading aren’t keeping my interest. Examples: I finally read Nickel and Dimed this summer, and I am reading Animal, Vegetable, Miracle right now. I think everyone should read both of these books, and I bet many people would learn a thing or two (in fact, I think Barbara Kingsolver’s book would be a great gift to give out to people [if I ever give in and become a preachy gift-giver]). Problem is, I already know more than the average person about these issues, so I’m not surprised or invigorated to make changes in my life (we already eat local, seasonal, and chemical-free, for example). I also picked up that Mayflower book from the library’s New Books shelf, and after 15 pages I—well, I was bored. Any suggestions?

The reason I was offline was that this was a busy holiday weekend for us. (After 7 years in the midwest, where we never got Columbus Day off [they’d give the kids a 3-day weekend the following week, so it was clear we weren’t celebrating the Beginning of the End of Native North American Independence], it was weird to be getting such an out-of-favor holiday. New Englanders are so … quaint.) We went camping in the White Mountains on Friday (The girls had off on Friday as well as Monday). We learned that Dramamine will not help Impera all that much during a long windy-road drive, and will make her extremely tired for the rest of the day; so any hike we have planned will be difficult for her, especially a super steep hike the likes of which we had never attempted before. But, being a trooper, she will complete the hike (although she’ll make it clear that “views” are not worth doing a hike for). The hike on Saturday was much less steep, Impera wasn’t drugged out, and the Consort and Trixie were able to swim in the pond at the end of the hike. We also enjoyed the smoothed out modernistic rocks of Franconia Falls (I’ll get the pictures up on flickr later this afternoon).

Aside #2: One unpleasant thing about camping is the midnight trek to the lavatory (in this case, a pit toilet in the National Park no-frills campground [no showers, water only at a communal well, and no electricity] where we stayed). I know some of you jumbo-sized bladder people have yet to need a midnight visit, but I’ve been partaking in that particular ritual for years now (the Consort, too, which is why I think it’s you other people who are bizarre, not me). I learned on this trip that, if you stop drinking at 4 pm, you can make it through the night without getting out of your sleeping bag. I made note of this and will definitely be taking advantage of this information at future campouts. What will keep me awake, however, is the Consort mentioning just as we are getting into our sleeping bags that the gorp left over from the day’s hike is still in his small pack, WHICH IS WITH US IN THE TENT. This did not bode well, considering that there are signs everywhere (including RIGHT ON THE CAMPSITE TABLE) that all food should be returned to campers’ cars at night, because of the bears. (The Consort’s response to me that, “The bears here in New England are baby bears,” just didn’t seem to soothe me as much as he thought it would.)

On Sunday, we spent the day with some friends from Boston. We went apple picking, made applesauce and apple crisp, played a great game called Robo-Rally, and had a yummy supper of tomato pesto pasta (with garlic bread).

Yesterday (the notorious Columbus Day), we had planned to do work, veg out, and take it easy, but it was raining in the morning, so we contacted our friends and told them that if they didn’t feel like doing the Fall Foliage thing in the rain, they could come spend some time with us, and there could maybe even be a group adventure completed using our wifi router (they both play World of Warcraft, too). And that’s what the Consort, the girls, and our friends did. For four and a half hours. I made chocolate chip muffins, and knit. Everybody was happy. And we even had time to do the necessary work and homework in the afternoon before supper.

Aside #3: We realized soon after we got to New Hampshire that we had forgotten to pack our winter hats, mittens, and scarves. How stupid was that? So I’m planning to make at least hats for everyone. We’ll see if I get them done in time. The girls want to go camping again this coming weekend (mostly because we said they were old enough to start the fire in the morning if the Consort and I aren’t up yet [we are happy to report that the pyromania that both the Consort and I have was passed down in spades to the girls. You should have seen them scouring the campground for bits of wood and leaves they could burn in the fire]), and it was getting to the point that sleeping with a hat on might be a good idea. Oh, the joys of autumn camping!

Now that I’ve caught up here, I will spend too much time visiting all my regular online haunts, trying to catch up with all of you. Because I take my blogging responsibilities seriously.


*Or should that be pixilated? I leave you** to decide.

**But who has an impish ass to kick, I ask you? Certainly not me.

Questions for Me

Why am I tempted to follow the blogs of people I don't respect?

How long will I be able to keep from commenting to said people about their delusions?

Do I realize that anything I say to them will not be taken in good spirit? (Come on, would *I* like to receive emails from random people telling me I'm making major mistakes?)

Should I create a blog category called "Private Messages for People Who Don't Know Me"?

(Would anyone read these posts?)

Don't I realize that just because I've finished one project doesn't mean I should forget about the other project I should be working on?

Why do I assume I deserve a break?

Why am I not working right now?

Last Night's Debate

So, did everybody watch the Democratic debate* last night?

Good for you. We didn’t.

Not for lack of trying. You see, we (being the weirdo non-TV watchers that we are), only ordered Basic Service (and pay 20 bucks a month for the privilege of knowing that, if we so chose, we could watch crap without fuzziness) – because that way we’d get good reception of the “traditional” stations, which should be enough to get what we might ever need: general news and live coverage of political events. Heck, with Basic Service, we get two CBSs, two ABCs, two NBCs, and two PBSs. Surely someone other than MSNBC would show debates, right? Wrong!!!! Even the PBS stations were showing some “War” show, which could be shown on any other night, right? (Shame on you, Vermont and New Hampshire Public Broadcasting. Shame, shame, shame.)

Of course, MSNBC was streaming the debates live online. Except that you needed Microsoft’s video software (rather than Apple’s QuickTime or the free [gasp!] RealPlayer). The Consort has it on his laptop, but his is an older machine and it would huff and puff and freeze up constantly. I never downloaded any of the MSCrap, because – well, because Microsoft sucks, and we all know it.

So we ended up listening to the debate on New Hampshire Public Radio. Impera had wanted to see the debates, so she sat in with us for a while, the Consort and I calling out the invisible speakers to her when they’d begin their answers: “That’s Edwards,” or “Obama’s speaking,” and so on.

But, can someone please tell me who the heck the older guy who bragged about sticking his credit card companies with $90,000 of debt when he declared bankruptcy was???

(I felt so bad for him. Call me crazy, but I don’t get the feeling he’s going to win the nomination.)

*Do you know that even though it was taking place at Bouche de Dard, they only gave out 30 (thirty!) tickets total to faculty.

A Poll

So, how many of you routinely use the same towel to dry your face, your hands, a spill on the floor, or, say, a pet's dirty paws after a dewy morning walk?

I ask because I have been accused of being a towelist -- a person who uses different towels for different uses (hand towels for hands, dish towels for dishes, dog towels for dogs [and cats: I am open-minded, see?]). What's wrong with that? "Separate but equal," that's my motto. And I refuse to be made ashamed. I cannot be the only one.

But the Towel Multi-use Society (damned insurgents, I say) keeps ignoring my towel-use proclamations.

This is driving me batty (as well as grossing me out).

All the more so because the member of the TMS does seem to agree with my spongist proclamations (you know, the ones about one sponge used for washing dishes, and a separate one for wiping counters and tabletops).

Good thing my Youth Towelist Brigade has been well-trained to follow, without question, the Path of Towel Apartheid.

In the Middle of a Busy Busy 6 Days

My sister and her family just left, and we had a wonderful visit with them. If you want to see a tiny bit of what we were up to, visit my photo diary.*

Tomorrow morning we're leaving very early to participate in two days of the March to ReEnergize New Hampshire (there's a ReEnergize Iowa march happening, too). We'll return Sunday night, tuckered out, I'm sure.


*I feel a little guilty passing off my photo diary to fill the blog here. Not too guilty, however, to also point out that I whipped up a couple of photo sets about the visit. (Check the sidebar at the left for the link.)

Oh, the Joys

From an economics paper on manager-employee communications on my desk at the moment:

Although managers try a wide variety of communication strategies, ... the most successful strategy is quite simple: Explicitly request that all employees choose a high effort level, emphasize the mutual benefits of coordinating at a high effort level, and assure the employees that they are being paid well (although it is not necessary to actually pay them well).

Sometimes, copyediting makes you feel dirty --'cause you're working for The Man.

(Surprisingly enough, except for stuff like this, I really like this project.)

Not For the Weak of Heart

Sorting through one's belongings for an extended time away is difficult. It would be so much easier if we were actually moving to NH. Because then we'd just pack everything up, and tell ourselves, "We'll go through these files on the other end. We'll have much more time, then!" (Which wouldn't be true, so that 3-in. stack of user manuals for appliances/electronics we no longer own? We'd still have it in our files six months down the line.)

So, okay, there is some good about this process. But what a pain in the ass. Thursday is looming, and I still have tons to do. And it doesn't help that, because of the miniscularity of our temporary summer digs, as well as of the house we'll be living in in town, I've got to make some harsh decisions. Like: We can't bring both the food processor and the blender. Which should it be? The food processor is much more versatile, except for pesto. (And how many times do we make pesto over the course of a year? Maybe 7? -- But still: pesto!)

We've also decided that it would be silly to bring our fondue pot. But what about our raclette grill? Sure, we only have one raclette a winter (that's enough of a cheese overload in itself), but quality of life, man! That's important, too. Isn't it?

No wedding china (makes sense), but no French onion soup crocks (which I often use for individual pot pies in the winter), either. No ice cream sundae coupes. No pasta maker. No waffle iron.

Very few books. (That's OK, we'll just buy more, and that's a plus.) No Christmas decorations (the Consort said something about "making a paper tree" -- I have no idea what he meant, and I really don't care to know, either).

We are, however, bringing the contents of the liquor cabinet. That's us, you know, *tap tap tap* using our noggin for the important stuff.



(And for the love of sanity, don't anybody mention the incredibly thick layer of dust there behind the bookshelf. I didn't even notice it until I was cropping the picture for this post. [And to be honest, that bookshelf is normally packed with books, so no one can see behind the books at all, under normal circumstances.].)