Blue Corn Masa Dumplings--not vegan

Since I'm avoiding wheat this month, I'm enjoying a lot of corn- and rice-based dishes. Tonight, I tried a really tasty idea: masa dumplings. I found blue corn masa on sale at the Food Coop, and an old article in Gourmet magazine came to mind.

Begin with 1 &1/2 cups of pinto beans. Soak them overnight. Then cook with 3 C water & 1 Tb salt until tender; when beans are tender, add a minced clove of garlic (or 2 or 3!) & a chopped onion. Stir in 1/2 Tb olive oil, 1 tsp chili powder & 1 tsp cumin (more or less--I didn't actually measure). Add 1 Tb tomato paste & 1 1/2 C vegetable broth. Allow to simmer five minutes.

While it simmers, stir together about 1 C masa harina (the stuff that tortilla chips are made from!), 1 Tb baking powder and 1/2 tsp salt. Make a well in center of dry ingredients and gently whisk one egg together with 2 Tb corn oil. Stir in 2 Tb vegetable broth. Begin to work into dry ingedients, adding vegetable broth as necessary to create a dough slightly stickier than Playdough. Roll into balls the size of walnuts and add to gently simmering broth (reduce heat, if necessary). Cover and simmer gently about 5 minutes.

We had ours with salsa and guacamole, but I bet a lot of chopped fresh cilantro would make this fantastic!

I would like to experiment with this recipe to make it vegan--I could probably use ground flax seeds to help hold it all together--but the dumplings turned out so light and fluffy I had to share them right off the bat.

Writing update!

While I did make it to the end of my Nanowrimo project, I am putting any work on that story way, way, waaaaaaay on the back burner. I am instead re-working the first book I ever wrote. And by re-working, I mean the kind of re-writing where you look at the original manuscript and say: "Awesome! Now I have a 125,000-word outline!"

If you had told me a year ago that I would need to do this kind of revision to save the story, I would have cried. But now I am really enjoying myself. It's actually very enjoyable to sit down, look at the events of a scene and just write it a whole new way. It's being re-written this way because it's the same story with a new heroine. So she has similiar motivations and similiar responses but not exactly. (The love angles wind up totally different because of this.) But most of the same awful stuff happens to her. It's the same world, new girl.

Or the same world, different writer? I don't know who has changed most, my heroine, or me. I just know that what I'm writing sounds totally different than what I started writing 4 years ago.

Updates and stuff

Updated the quote of the month to reflect my favorite hobby: the study of zombies. It's a hobby that's really drawn my sweetie pie and I together, and it's the foundation of my bond with my brother. I've got to say, I've got a soft spot in my heart for the undead.

30

It happened at the beginning of last month, and I've been waiting to write up a great "it was my birthday and these are my amazing insights" kind of a post. And waiting. And waiting.

It turns out I don't have a whole lot of insights about turning 30. Weird.

Actually, I am noticing some changes in myself. For one, I am not as cute and fuzzy as I used to be. The tough, grouchy lady inside of me is rearing her head--and getting appreciated, instead of pounded under. There are things that go along with that tough broad, like reading Stephen King again after years of turning up my nose at scary stories, and buying books about the martial arts. There are weird things, too, like changing snack preferences--I used to be sweets all the way, and now I'm transitioning to jerkey.

I don't know. Things are changing. I feel like my emotional bones and muscle are starting to appear from beneath the puppy fat of my youth. I'm not as cute as I used to be, and I think that's okay.

The Snake's got nothing on Petfinder.com...

The Snake has a pretty bad rap, what with tempting Eve and all. But you know, he's pretty innocent compared to Petfinder.com. Have you ever checke out that site? It's like pet porn! I just spent half an hour snivelling over bunnies and kitties and birds, and now I'm a miserable shell of a woman. It's all their fault.

Actually, it might be the Fred Meyer Pigeon's fault. Today, John and I braved the elements to go find Fiona some Christmas presents. (No "inclement weather event" is going to wreck my baby's Christams, darn it!) And in the foyer of the Foster Fred Meyer, this adorable cocoa-and-white pigeon had snuck in and started roosting! She was beautiful and obviously very smart. If I had a box in the back of the car, I probably would have tried luring her down from her perch and into my life.

Needless to say, the thought of an adorable bird pet led to online searching, and next thing you know, I'm preparing to lie to my landlord and send my child to live with my relatives so I can adopt Dusty the Ragdoll Cat, who can not live with dogs, cats or children. But she's gorgeous.
Eve, put down the apple.

Whew. I think I'll just go put a fresh layer of paper in the worm bin and try to be thankful for what I have. If only Fiona would purr when I scratched her under the chin ...

I am Pandora's bitch

Maybe in response to one month of extremely restricted musical selections--I made one playlist of downer tunes and listened to it non-stop all of November--I am now obsessed with Pandora radio. There is nothing like a blast of music you've never heard before to clear the cobwebs out of your brainpan.

Tamora Pierce: An Homage

More than twenty years ago (!) I picked this book off the Bookmobile's shelves, and it was the book that set the course of my life. I think I was eight years old. I know that the person I am today is the summation of a hundred thousand small events, thousands of stories and hundreds of relationships, but that one book took all the previous experiences and condensed them into one searchlight that lit up all the rest that followed.

Alanna was the first book I had ever read where the perspective switched between two characters. I remember turning the page and then flipping back and forth, so confused, and then, so excited! I didn't know books could do that. It was absolute magic to my young mind. I had never known that there was more than one way to write stories, and from that time on, I payed attention to how a story unfolded, not just its unfolding.

And what a story! Here was a young, powerful heroine, daring to defy her family to follow her dreams, even if it means pretending to be a boy. Here was a girl with purple eyes and guts and a strong sword arm. She lived in a pretty amazing place, too--a place with Thief Kings and nobility and plotting mages, dangerous deserts and slave-trading neighbors. Reading that place sealed my heart to Fantasy for all time.

I have just written the first draft of my third novel. I have just finished reading my fourteenth novel by Tamora Pierce. It was just as good as the first one (and yes, I must admit, better than some of the ones in between). I have many false starts of books piled up in my mind and in my desk drawer, and probably ten of those false starts are born from Tamora Pierce's writing. My first finished book has a character named for one of her's. It's pretty clear to me that this woman is important in my world, my mind, my life.

I am so glad that she is out there, writing these books. Not only did she make me want to be a writer, she made me want to be the kind of woman she writes about: tough, smart, moral. My interest in martial arts and sword-fighting was fueled by the adventures she created. My love of justice was always slaked by her writing. And no one else has written talking animals with quite the same tough love that Tamora Pierce manages.

Tamora Pierce, thank you. You are my favorite author.

Super Turkey!

WOW!

I made Bryanna Grogan's Seitan & Soy Turkey for Thanksgiving dinner, and after giving it some sweet upgrades (like adding a little applesauce to wet ingredients and apple juice to basting liquid, as well as following a different baking technique recommended by another food blogger), the beast turned out unbelievable. [I thought about inserting the f*bomb in between the syllables of 'be' and 'li', just to underscore the amazing goodness of this protein loaf.] I would double-dog dare Tofurkey to make a better dish.

Also AMAZING was the pear-cranberry crumble. The crumble itself was just tasty, but the combination of the pecans in the streuselly topping and the cararmel sauce (and ice cream) we spooned over the top created a magical pecan pie + fruity goodness experience that blew me away.

Combined with a wonderful hike in the Audubon Nature Sanctuary and a full day of bonding with my cool niece, this was a Thanksgiving I don't think I'll ever forget.

Thankful!

See the updated image over there? I'm going to spend Thanksgiving partying!

No work until MONDAY! Yeee-hawwww!

History

I was just putting books on hold at the library for Fiona and I realized just how very innocent she is. I wante d to get information about presidents, because the idea is very nebulous and confusing for her, and because I think she should know a bit about them, and also, I want to share the momentousness of Obama's inauguration in January. And I realized that she would have no clue why it's so amazing and fantastic that this man could be elected by a majority of American citizens to lead us. She has no idea that 140 years ago, someone who looked like our future president could be bought and sold like toilet paper.

And the thought just sort of hit me hard. I know I'm tired and a little overwrought from a hard month's soul-scraping. But I'm sitting here, sniffling, just thinking about it.

I'm off to take a hot bath, letting my word count for the day stay at 2,000 words. And I'll leave you with this:

Our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.

It just seems a little more true today than it did in history class. Blessed be, Mr. Lincoln. You've waited a long time to see another Illinois senator follow you into the White House.

Fun stuff--and fitting!

Wendy Noel Wagner's Dewey Decimal Section:
184 Platonic philosophy
Wendy Noel Wagner's birthday: 12/06/1978 = 1206+1978 = 3184

Class:
100 Philosophy & Psychology

Contains:
Books on metaphysics, logic, ethics and philosophy.

What it says about you:
You're a careful thinker, but your life can be complicated and hard for others to understand at times. You try to explain things and strive to express yourself.

Find your Dewey Decimal Section at Spacefem.com

36,000 words

I am embarassed to admit that the last two or three days have produced very little in the word count department. However, today I went to the food co-op and picked up some veggie jerkey. And then promptly chomped out 1700 words of fun craft. Also, I organized the next couple of days work so I can crank out some serious product.

Veggie jerky. How did I ever function without it? May the gods shower blessings upon Kt, who introduced me to the stuff!

Yes, I'm still alive!

But barely, barely mind you. I'm pushing all the me-ish-ness out of my head to clear space for my characters!

I'm half-way there! Wish me luck! GO NANOWRIMO!

I am a femme fatale!

This headline takes a little explaining. It begins close to eleven years ago, a time when the nation was rocked by the exploits of a young White House intern in a blue dress. A time when a fellow classmate turned to meand said, "Wow! You look just like Monica Lewinski!" And other people agreed.

It was a very dark moment in my life that led to an extreme haircut and new clothes.
I thought I'd left that experience behind me, but Wednesday night, I couldn't help but remember it. My delightful friend Katie joined me in the weekly trip to the market to pick up my produce from my marvelous farmer. We waited patiently as a young man in biking gear bought some appealing broccoli, and then I stepped up and began chatting with Lyle (the farmer). Hearing my voice, the bicyclist turned his head and stared. "Are you trying to do a Sarah Palin impression?"

He looked a little flustered when Lyle assured him that I was just a naturally cheerful person, and my stunned (and grumpy) "No! That's just how I normally sound!" probably didn't help either.

So now I know. I have the voice of Sarah Palin in Monica Lewinksi's body. I could bring down the entire political system!

I'm in love ...

... with Google Docs!

After the file-tastic chaos of last year's Nanowrimo writing explosion, I am really wracking my brains to keep track of all the notes and chapter files I generate in an all-out draft creation. Plus that, I need safe back-up space for all of that, and you don't know how good I am at getting all those files mixed up all over the place. I think I can Google Docs like a giant virtual filing cabinet for all that back-up goodness.

Woot!

Yeah, Google might be taking over the world. But I don't see why more companies aren't jumping on their bandwagon. Their ideas are SMART.

My name is Albus Dumbledore, and I approve this message.

Tonight my mom floored me. She said she wants to vote for Sarah Palin, because "that woman is a breath of fresh air." I actually feel in a kind of mourning.

The McCain/Palin ticket isn't a breath of fresh air. It's drumming up support by pounding the same platform of hatred the Republican party has relied upon the last 20 years: anti-abortion, anti-gay-marriage, pro-war, pro-guns.

Barack Obama has gone out on a limb--you can read it in his acceptance speech at the Democratic National Convention--to reach out to people on both sides of these divisive issues. He has tried to connect people, shining a light on the things we have in common, no matter how we stand on issues like this.

Everybody gets fired up about these issues because we have deep commitments to our moral codes, moral codes that we interpret in ways that give us very different perspectives on issues like abortion, gay marriage and sending people to war.

Republicans prosper when we hate each other for those different perspectives. Some Democrats prosper, too. But Obama is the first politician I have ever seen raising himself above the election-winning tactic of stirring up hatred.

He is a voice of love.

I don't know if I like Barack Obama. He is a cautious, career politician who is difficult to read, restrained, and unemotional. It's hard to love a man like that. But I believe that in these times--with terrorism on all our minds, with war and atrocity across the globe, with global economic devastation, with our own nation wracked by its own ideological schisms--that the only weapon we have is love. It is the only way we are going to fight through these perilous times.

Damn straight, I'm an Oregonian!

I finally have a raincoat!

Okay, so it's not Goretex, but it is still lovely and it is waterproof. It's blue and cute. I can totally fit a sweater under it without looking like a marshmallow.

It was really time to do it. The other day I had to use an ... uggh ... umbrella.

Reading and writing

We have cable internet! How exciting! Wheee!

Other than that, just hanging out, reading and editing the old book, gearing up for Nanowrimo. And baking Gingerbread Pumpkin Muffins!

David Lynch in a Tux

I was just trying to post this recipe on the Nanowrimo forum, because we ate a lot of it last November. Quinoa is full of protein and calcium, and it cooks in about 15 minutes.

We were inspired to create this recipe from the special features on the Inland Empire DVD. I remember watching it at a friend's house and then *immediately* demanding we go to Fred Meyer and pick up quinoa. It is definitely worth watching Mr. Lynch make this dish, because he tells the most wonderful stories while he's cooking. And he manages to smoke several cigarettes.

David Lynch in a Tux
1 tsp olive oil
1 clove garlic, minced
1 C quinoa
2 C water, boiling
1/2 Tb Better than Bouillon Vegetable Soup base -- or 2 cubes veggie bouillon
2 C broccoli florets
Fun veggie additions:
sliced mushrooms, jarred pimentos, fresh basil, corn (any or all)
walnuts or pine nuts
French fried onions (I like Trader Joe's brand)

Heat olive oil in 1 quart saucepan over medium heat until shimmery. Add garlic, cook until fragrant, then stir in quinoa. Toast about 2 minutes so it can soak up garlicy oil. Add water, bring to a boil while stirring, then reduce heat to low and cover. Allow to simmer about 7 minutes. Stir in bouillon, and if there is still liquid present, cover and simmer another 3-5 minutes. When water is absorbed, stir in broccoli and other vegetables. Remove from heat and keep covered for at least 3 minutes. Top with nuts and onions when serving.

Serves 2 hungry grown-ups and 1 not-too-picky kid. If you use prepped veggies and garlic from a jar, this will take about 15 minutes to prepare and cook.

Tasty eats

The focus of the food world here in Chez Kazwagner has definitely began to change to a healthier front. After a whole summer of pie, cookies and donuts, I found myself eating a tofu taco this morning for breakfast, downed with a kale-and-strawberry smoothie (with an added tablespoon of "Green Power" to really kick it up a notch).

It's fall.

When it's fall, it's important to kick up the fire in your belly and eat less yin foods. Eat more orange foods, more quality proteins, less dairy, wheat and sugar. And crank up the heat with spices.

Here's a tasty, tangy dessert shake that fit the bill the other night:

I'm Spicayy Pumpkin Shake
3/4 C pumpkin puree (mine was from a can)
1 6 oz container vanilla soy yogurt
1 Tb molasses
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp ginger
dash of fresh, finely ground pepper, if you're into spicy
1 C apple cider
1 scoop vanilla ice cream, dairy or not, to taste/health OR 1/2 a frozen banana

Put pumkin, yogurt, molasses and spices in blender and blend on low to combine. Add cider and ice cream (or banana, if you prefer) and blend on high till fluffy. Taste--might need a dash of honey or sugar, depending on the sugar content of the yogurt.

We had ours with a dollop of whipped topping, so it looked very decadent and yummy.

Does anybody else remember that "I'm spicaayyy" Burger Kinger ad? I still love that line!

Oregon City is romantic

...so take your dates down by the river and smooch!

That's what John and I did on Saturday, while our dear daughter enjoyed birthday party extravaganza with her cousin. It was SO nice to have a date day. We just about floated off the Willamette Falls viewpoint.

And I'm not kidding--Oregon City is a really cute little town. It also has this bizarre, retro-future (think Jetsons) elevator that goes from the riverside to the top of a bluff. There's a big viewing platform at the top and a bizarre art project--holographic historical photographs!--to enjoy. Plus, there's a pizzeria with awesome salad!

Crazy cool weekend

So my brother came to visit! And Fiona spent the night at her cousin's house, so brother, John, and my eldest sister all hung out playing crazy games (after we enjoyed hearty eats at Dot's Cafe. Which has amazing vegan options.).

Anyway, back to the party...

Cream of Broccoli Soup

I have gotten out of the habit of posting on Blogger. It's easy; on my Myspace blog, I get instant feedback from the folks who always read, but my lone Blogger reader signed up to be a sailor until November, so I gave up a little. But November is almost upon us, and let's not forget--there's a link to my Blog on my Nanowrimo profile. I could have readers!

Tonight I made a delicious Cream of Broccoli Soup with Edamame and Corn. It was so beautiful in the bowl! We gobbled it up with kaiser rolls from New Seasons. Wow!

We are almost settled into the new kindergarten routine. It has been hard for me. There's a lot more to do and coordinate I have really been wallowing in chaos. I had visions of all the wonderful free time that would come with my new work schedule, but honestly? Fiona has needed so much more Mom time that I feel more exhausted and get less done than ever.

It's all very, very ugghy. But my soup was good.

Great day!

Today, I got to hang out with my cute nephews and niece, went to the new ice cream shop on Division, AND I finished the poem about dinosaurs. What a great day! If I could have spent an hour with my brother, who turned 21 today, it would have been perfect!

Weddings and craziness!

This weekend was wedding #2, and this one was much more lovely than the last. The first was swanky; this one was Martha-Stewart-picture-perfect. There was canoeing on a lake, swings on the shore, caterers circulating with hors d'oeuvres. The bride was astonishingly beautiful. Everything was ... lovely.

It was the kind of wedding that I would probably want if I had $20,000 to throw away on a wedding. Needless to say, I am happy that I got to visit that wedding and will feel no sorrow that I will not have that wedding myself. (That was a terrible sentence--did any of you follow that?)

I'm actually pretty happy that I don't feel obligated to have a perfect wedding like these folks. After all, at this perfect wedding, the guests got to enjoy a quality meal, catered by a top-notch outfit, with delicious side dishes, chicken or salmon. Or both, since it was a buffet. Everyone said the salmon was wonderful. The bride and groom, who are both vegetarians, got to eat side dishes.

I am NOT eating side dishes at my own wedding. Also, I am not going to wear a super-freaking-fancy dress that I wouldn't feel comfortable eating in. I am a Wagner, after all. A party isn't a party unless everyone leaves in a food coma.

Not that I'm getting married any time soon. But you know. You get thinking about this stuff.

After the wedding, we drove down the gorge and pitched a tent (in the dark!). And Monday morning we went hiking. It rocked.

Is there something wrong with that picture, or what?

Weddings ...

On Saturday, I went to a wedding, and this Sunday, I'll be going to another. (It's a pretty good excuse for eating sweets!) I have one good friend getting ready for a wedding, and John and I keep muttering about one. Weddings are in the air!

So the wedding I went to on Saturday was very enjoyable. It was at Wieden and Kennedy, which is an awfully appealing space for the offices of an advertising agency. The champagne was exceptional, and the food was acceptable--the coconut cream cake was a real standout, although somehow the lemon bars tasted like soap. I was very inspired, at least on the food side of the party equation.

Most weddings involve dancing, and this one was no exception. But the remarkable thing was that my friends Molly and Steve tried to teach me some swing dancing moves, and Steve said that I have a natural talent. He said I should take lessons. He said this twice! Wow. The nicest thing anyone has ever said about my dancing was "stop." I feel like a new woman.

John has heard me boasting about my natural talent at seven times now. And he hasn't hit me over the head yet!

10 years ago

So I saw this on Shayna's blog, and who can resist this kind of thing?

Compare your life now to what you thought it would be ten years ago:
Ten years ago, I was just beginning my senior year of college (a melodramatic and ridiculous time in my life!). I imagined that I would have gone to school for a degree in Literature and become a professor at some tiny liberal arts school in a petite college town. Or maybe gotten a degree in ESL teaching and gone to work for an ESL department in a tiny liberal arts school. I would write in my free time and travel on school holidays. I would have had several heart-wrenching romances, and of course my students would secretly pine for me, but I would remain free and single, removed from it all.

Nowadays, I live with a man I love and, like my left leg or liver, couldn't imagine being without. We are raising my 5-year-old daughter (my big oops and life-shaking event), who predates the arrival of the true love. I work at a job I sincerely enjoy and will probably keep for many years, without interest in promotion or change, because it is handy, fun, and doesn't expect too much for me. Oddly enough, it is at a children's museum, a place I wouldn't have set foot in for less than $20 in my previous ten-year-plan. I garden a lot, but my big joy is writing. I have written two novels, each lying around in half-edited chunks, and I have a handful of short stories and poems sitting on editors' desks around the country. Wish them luck for me, okay?

In the next ten years, I would sincerely like to live in the country with two or three alpacas, a dog, some chickens, bees, and lots of compost. I would like to be able to grow all the vegetables and fruit that I eat in a year. I would also really like writing to be my day job and market gardening be my part-time love. Also in ten years, I would really like to be surviving Fiona's teen years without too much pain and insanity.

Hey, I dream big!

Family Friday movie night

What does it say about me that I can't watch Pocohontas without crying?

Peanut Butter Brownies

I made Peanut Butter Brownies the other day. I have now eaten approximately 3000 calories worth--just today. I'm glad I sent a bunch home with Erin, or I might triple in size. Which brings me to the question: Why the heck are home-baked goods so darn tasty? Seriously, when I make something myself, I can barely stop myself from eating it. Is it because I am a genius cook? Or is it a weird psychological compulsion?

I better turn my family loose on those things tonight and hope they can save me from myself!

Fine Dining!

Last night, I had a truly remarkable experience: one of my friends took us to the restaurant where he recently started as the pastry chef (Genoa, on Portland's SE Belmont St). It's the first time I have ever enjoyed a multi-course, prix fixe dinner, and we spent *4* hours working our way through the magnificent experience. Each course was a jewel of flavor and visual appeal. It was lovely.

Today, my stomach is in rebellion, since we enjoyed the cheese course heartily--and then the guys in the kitchen brought out dessert. All the desserts, just for fun. It was the first time Daniel (the pastry chef) had gotten to see his work in action, and he was just so very happy. We had to try all seven of them, and then nibble on our favorites. Which was probably a little too much dessert, but what the heck! After a couple glasses of wine and some port, what's a little too much dessert?

The best thing was seeing this incredible staff working together with such enjoyment and respect. Since we were with Daniel, we got to meet everybody, and they were all really nice guys, and all very proud of their work. It just made me smile.

What was the best? Hmmn. . . the melon & mint sorbet amuse bouche was perfection, the carrot soup with cumin and creme fraiche was stellar, the morel mushroom risotto took speech away (and the fennel salad garnish with that dish was particularly breath-taking), but the clear winners were the carmelized onion and gorgonzola ravioli (WOW!) and the basil and black pepper tartoufe. (Daniel helped make both of those dishes.) Wow. Wow. Wow!

For Kt, who doesn't have Myspace

Walking home after work last week, I had an epiphany. If you know me—and if you're reading this, I imagine you do—then you know that every two weeks, I find another dream job that I'm going to pursue. And it's always some cool great thing that I would probably be very good at, and you, my friends and family, say nice, supportive things, and then in a few days, I've changed my mind.

So then I had the epiphany.

I am never going to be anything besides a writer.

That might mean that I have crap jobs, like working at the museum, for the rest of my life. And it doesn't mean I'm going to be a good writer, or a successful writer. It just means that I'm going to write, and everything else I'm interested in is probably just fodder for writing.

Whew. I'm also giving myself permission to explore all those really cool things that interest me—without saying they're my dream job. Because, hey—art classes and yoga classes and whatever other weird junk I get into all give me something to write about. And a girl's got to have that.

It feels good getting it all off my chest.

Working hard!

While I haven't made anything very delicious to eat--although my friend Sue gave me some delicious rhubarb-strawberry compote--I have been doing some pretty cool stuff lately. I've started a short story, begun brainstorming the background for the next book (hey, November's coming up fast!), and am beginning the rewrite for my Cinderella-novel. Also, I have done a few other things, but I'm keeping them under my hat for a while. . .

The pot roils

Tonight was the first time in weeks that I made Indian-spiced food! I have been in cumin-withdrawal! I was planning to just make some curried split pea soup, but then I found myself making a delicious pilau (my favorite plain pilau recipe from the Vegetarian Epicure, book 2), yummy curried split peas with spinach and cabbage, and really delicious marinated tofu browned with cumin seeds and mustard seeds. Yummmmmmmmm.

If you're wondering why there are no pictures of this attractive meal, it's because we have a new camera that take humongous pictures, and I still haven't worked out how to cut them down to Blogger size. Don't hold your breath.

So much new and exciting stuff I can't quite wrap my brain around it. I think I'll just focus on two big, silly events. Tomorrow is the museum's big fundraiser, and almost everybody is coming as a volunteer to staff the event. All my pals will be getting dressed up in their finest duds and hanging out with the idle rich! And best of all, I have cute shoes to wear! Whoo-hoo! Also great: on Saturday, my sister-sin-law and I are going to see the Sex and the City movie! Double whoo-hoo! I was watching to the show tributes on the last-season-bonus-disc, and if you think I didn't get teary eyed, you are nuts.

All right. Time to help a midget brush her teeth!

Healthy eats

I'm all for healthy eats, but I draw the line at spinach in my waffles!

The things you read about on the fatfreevegan discussion board ...

On the plus side, we did make a delicious sorbet last night for dessert. It featured a lot of frozen strawberries, pineapple (crushed from a can) and a banana--upon tasting, I added a little agave nectar to boost the flavors. The fiber from the banana and pineapple gave it a soft, sherbet-y texture that was really lovely.

I am trying to cut down on wheat again. After a lot of fun noshing at work, I have gained a couple of pounds, and I am back to drinking two or three cups of coffee every day. How delightful to surf the ups-and-downs of my two favorite addictions--caffeine and wheat. You should see me try to fight off a toast craving! It's like watching a smoker or a junkie try to resist their favorite drug. Apparently this is not a surprise. A lot of people who have wheat issues (I don't know that I have a wheat issue, but I do know that if I eat more than about 2 servings in one day, I feel weird and have truly repugnant gas--sorry about the TMI) crave wheat desperately. Because of the trauma going on in the gut, your body starts to pump out endorphins, creating a morphine-like high. Goody. Morphine. Thank goodness for rice cakes!

Food woes

So I hate to admit it, but I have not been in the cooking mode lately. Seriously, the most delicious things I have eaten lately are chili-mac, dressed-up top ramen, and guacamole/sauerkraut on an onion bagel. If you have not tried topping an onion bagel with guacamole (spicy) and sauerkraut (my new favorite, wine kraut), then you are missing, missing out. In fact, my mouth is watering just thinking about it. Oh. And I also made a pretty tasty vegan-ized spinach-artichoke dip the other day, which because deliriously delicious with honey-mustard stirred into it the next day.

If you're noticing that everything I've been eating lately is junk food, you might be right.

Arrghh! May 20th is coming!

I'm sitting here, surfing the campaign sites for Hillary and Barack, trying to prepare myself for our primary in May. It's nice reading. It's hard to not to be pleased when both of the candidates in front of me are progressive-minded, intelligent people with a track record of good works. If only one of them was ugly or really old, with a heart condition (oh wait, that's Cheney), or particularly evil (they are pretty equal, I think, adjusting for age). Maybe I should just flip a coin, or perhaps vote for the one who has raised the most money. . .

Actually, deep down, I know who I will vote for. I have had my mind made up all along, but I am trying to be open-minded and see how things develop. No matter who wins, it will be a historic election!

Someone lovely is gone

Most of you out there don't know him, but on Saturday a noble gentleman died: Paw Paw. He was Martha Stewart's dog and for many years now I have been reading about his exploits and watching him age, all on the pages of the magazine and web page. I never met this fella, but I felt as if I knew him, and I admit I got misty-eyed when I read Martha's blog post.

How strange it is to feel such a connection to someone I have only read about! It is as if one of my favorite literary characters was killed in a story, like the moment Sirius walks through that arch. But at least this dog star led a long and happy life, and died of old age.

AWE: Alpaca Western Extravaganza!

Last night, John told me that he would take us to a surprise outing, and that the doors opened at 9 am. I interrogated him as best as I could, but this morning I still totally clueless when we drove up to the Portland Expo and saw the signs: Alpaca check-in, this way. Alpacas!!!!! I am of the firm belief that the alpaca is the hands-down cutest animal on the planet, and a giant exposition hall full of them only cemented that belief.

The thing that is the most amazing about alpacas isn't their funny hoof-paws. It isn't their 6 inch long second set of eyelashes. It isn't their super-soft, deliciously colored fleece (oddly enough, alpacas seem to come almost entirely in dessert colors--creamy whites, browns, cocoas and lavender-gray). It's the fact that 9 alpacas out of 10 stop what they're doing to look you over when you walk by, and their huge brown eyes are friendly and curious, like a dog's. And then they want to sniff you! I really wanted to pet every single one that put its head out of its pen to check me out, but I also didn't want to mess up their hair. This event is one of the most important shows in the country for alpaca breeders, and ribbon at it would add extra zeroes to a winner's selling price. But eventually I did succumb and put my face up close to a couple of extra friendly sniffers. They actually put their nose right up against my face to give me good sniffing! It was like an alpaca kiss! (Their lips are pretty whiskery.)

So I have been kissed by an alpaca! I am so happy!

Sick, again!

This time, it's Fiona. She's been sick all week--fevers, vomiting, diarrhea, the whole nine yards. She's been pretty miserable. Staying home with her has been sad.

On the plus, it's given me lots of time to write. I am cruising along. It feels wonderful. The house is a disaster but I don't care! I am busting out the words.

Christ, it feels good!

Earth Hour was great!

We spent two hours in the dark last night, enjoying a candle-lit meal and a board game with my wonderful sister. It was great. Maybe we should do Earth Hour once a month, just because it's lovely.

Honoring our ancestors

Taking a break from the rigors of being sick (I've pretty much been in bed since Thursday, although I did make it in to work for a couple of hours today), I made a little green dinner for St. Patrick's Day.

Now, St. Patrick's has always been one of my favorite holidays. I've always loved the fun of wearing green (and pinching those who forgot). Food, of course, in our family really makes or breaks a holiday, and I have fond memories of two favorite foods my mom would treat us to, every year: Green SnoBalls and Corned Beef & Cabbage. Corned Beef has to be one of the all-time greatest foods known to mankind. There's nothing better than biting into a salty pink chunk of goodness and letting the greasy brine drip down your chin. I love to get a thick slice with a nice fatty rim and frost it with a tasty mixture of mustard and horseradish. Wow. And the heavenly marriage of fat, salt and cabbage! The sweetness of the vegetable comes through, mellow and heady.

However, as a vegetarian, the spotlight has shifted a little. No dead animal parts means no corned beef and no marshmallows. But in some ways, it's nice. I can remember why St Patrick's Day really means so much to me. It's because most of us are the descendants of people from far distant countries, who worked hard to come here. March 17th is a holiday created by one group of folks to remember those ancestors. In this modern era, that's a pretty rare thing.

So tonight I made us a mess o'pottage--a stew of split peas and vegetables--with rye bread, saurkraut and hot mustard as accompaniment. Dried peas were one of the primary foodstuffs of the Northern Europeans, long before the beans of the Americas arrived, or before the lentils and garbanzos of the Middle East had caught on. Rye is one of the hardiest grains, far more cold tolerant than wheat. And cabbage is the quintessential food of the poor. I tried to honor the ancestors of my little family, a mess of Scots, German, Irish, English and Polish farmers.

Sometimes changing your food habit lets you change your feelings about a holiday. And sometimes it lets you see it in a whole new, beautiful light.

Sour Kale

With nobody feeling 100%, we haven't been doing a great deal of good cooking around this place, and let's face it, nobody wants to hear about boxed soup and orange juice. So yesterday marked my first good and healthy meal in about a week and a half.

It was pretty simple. I just marinated some cubed tofu (in pineapple juice, Bragg's amino acids, two pressed garlic cloves, a tablespoon of tomato paste and sherry) overnight and then baked it about 40 minutes. Then I quickly steamed a bunch of kale with about a cup of leftover sauerkraut and salt & pepper. All of that together over rice, with a little green onion sprinkled over the top for that crunchy touch.

But wow! Who knew sauerkraut could take kale such new and fantastic places? It was zippy, zesty, cheerful, and tummy tingling. And super energy-filled, too. The tofu-marinade, which reduced as the tofu baked, was a sweet sauce that harmonized with the sour really well.

Sometimes, even when you're lazy, you get lucky.

So many great thoughts ...

... so little posting.

Sorry there's been a bit of a drought on this site. Unfortunately, Wednesday afternoon I pulled a muscle in my neck and typing makes it even worse. You should have seen me leading kids' yoga that day ... "Bendy Wendy," my butt!

Cauliflower is cool!

Tonight I made pasta with a creamy sauce made from mashed cauliflower and white beans, with some vegan mozzarella, lots of garlic, and some chopped spinach for color. Yum! Who knew cauliflower could impersonate junk food?

What a beautiful morning!

In an attempt to cut down on our car usage, I have been getting up early and walking down to the train station instead of mooching a ride off John on Sundays. I've always felt a little guilty about the extra car trip, and now that I'm trying to get more exercise, this is the perfect opportunity. Oddly enough, I find myself really excited about it. I'll wake up, bouncing around, ready to go, go, go, go!

This morning waking up early was a little tough, but completely worth it. There was a wispy fog all over the city and the birds were talking their little lungs out. Just as I turned the corner on Ivon, I saw a hump-backed shadow stalking across the street. It snuffled back and forth, stopping on the sidwalk to watch me approach. A raccoon! It waited until I was within about 6 feet of it, then disappeared into the grass and the fog.

Sometimes we forget that nature isn't just out there, somewhere. Even the city is nature.

Sick kid

One week later, the midget is still a little under the weather. She's had a bit of an earache and her nose just doesn't stop running. She says her ear doesn't hurt today, but that may be because I had John give her a classic ear ache treatment: a hot onion in a sock, pressed to the ear.

We're just enjoying the beautiful weather and trying to nurse our little loveling back to health. It's been a quiet week!

No-Bake Vegan Cheesecake (Creamy Meyer Lemon Pie)

I made this for John's birthday last week. I wanted to make a raw cheesecake in a graham cracker crust (John loves graham crackers), but the raw cheesecake recipes all sounded too fatty, so I compromised and used a container of soy yogurt to reduce the fat content. The results were amazing--creamy, tangy, delicious, with the solidity of a good New York Cheesecake. The raspberry sauce on top elevated it to celebration status!

No-Bake Vegan Cheesecake (aka Creamy Meyer Lemon Pie)

If you substituted rice yogurt for soy yogurt, this could easily be made soy-free. It's very important to use organic lemons, because the skin of citrus fruits really soaks up pesticides. Make sure you wash them well to remove any wax, or all the flavor will not come through.

1 prepared 9-in graham cracker crust (see Better-For-Ya Graham Cracker Crust, bottom)

zest, pulp, and juice of 1 1/2 lemons (I used Meyer lemons, because they are in season)

6 oz container of vanilla soy yogurt

2 C raw cashews, ground to a fine powder (I used a coffee grinder)

1/4 C coconut oil

dash of salt

3 Tb agave nectar (or sugar or lightly colored honey)

Pour the lemon zest, pulp and juice into a blender and add the yogurt. Blend on low to combine. In three batches, add the cashew powder. When combined, add the coconut oil, salt and sugar. The mixture should be quite thick. Pour mixture into prepared graham cracker crust, cover tightly, and refrigerate two to three hours until firm. Serve with fresh fruit or Raspberry Glaze.

Raspberry Glaze

1 1/4 C frozen raspberries

3 Tb sugar

juice of 1/2 a lemon

Stir all ingredients together in a small saucepan, and bring to a gentle boil over medium high heat. Reduce heat to low and cook until sauce coats a spoon. Thoroughly cool before using, but do not refrigerate, or it will not spread nicely over the cheesecake.

Better For Ya Graham Cracker Crust

Sometimes you just want a graham cracker crust, but when you read the recipe, your arteries begin crying. This is the fix for you. It is particularly thick and hearty, with a tasty, grahamy flavor.

1 Tb ground flax seeds

1/4 C water

1/2 tsp corn or sunflower oil

1/4 tsp salt

10 crushed graham crackers (they should be about the texture of sand)

2 Tb brown rice syrup, at room temperature

Mix the ground flax seeds with the water and let it rest while you crush the graham crackers. The flax seeds should turn into a thick and gooey paste. Stir in the oil. In a large bowl, sprinkle the salt over the crushed graham crackers, then stir in the flax seeds. Add the brown rice syrup. Stir until the brown rice syrup is evenly distributed and the mixture begins to come together in one big lump. Put the mixture into a 9-inch pie pan or springform and pat into place. Bake at 325 degrees until browned and firm, about 12 minutes.

Old favorites, new colors

Today was a great day in Garden Club. We played a smelling game where everybody sniffed different samples of food with their eyes closed and then had to guess what the food was. All the kids were astounded when they saw the blood oranges--their noses had the thing pegged, but their eyeballs were confused.

We had the same experience for dinner. When Fi and I were at New Seasons, they had a beautiful arrangement of cauliflowers in white, orange and purple. Fiona really wanted to try the purple kind. She actually begged for it, and since I'm a sucker for kids who beg for veggies, I totally bought a head. Tonight I decided to cook it up.

We had an Indian-themed dinner, with rice and lentils, and then I toasted some cumin seeds in a dab of olive oil (a lot more than I usually cook with, but I had a hunch the cauliflower would appreciate it), with a little salt and a dash of curry powder. The cauliflower soaked up the delicious cumin flavor as I tossed it around in the pan, and the curry powder gave it a well-rounded flavor profile. The best thing, and the thing I'd been most nervous about, is that the cauliflower stayed purple when cooked! I was very, very pleased, since I thought I remembered that purple cauliflower cooked to green. Maybe that's broccoli ...

As a little accompaniment to the cauliflower, I tried a veggie mentioned in Madhur Jaffrey's World Vegetarian (which is probably my favorite cookbook for its treatment of vegetables, including many obscure varieties of veggies I can't wait to dig into): garbanzo fronds. To prepare for this experiment, I began growing some garbanzo plants in January. They are very beautiful plants, and I got a little teary-eyed cuttng them for dinner. I don't know if I could have done it I hadn't just planted some more out in the garden this afternoon! I cut back the entire plant, which was still very young and tender, and quickly stir-fried it in a little garlic, olive oil, and salt. Wow! They have a flavor reminiscent of asparagus, and were tender and lovely. Wow. Run out and buy some dried garbanzo beans today so you can try the fronds soon!

Cuminy Greens and Tofu (Vegan Saag Paneer)

I made this one night when I was craving saag paneer. It recreates some of my favorite elements of the dish--mellow cuminy spinach goodness--without the dairy and long-term commitment of traditional recipes. I can't say it's an exact match, but when I found myself craving it today at work, I knew I'd done something good. We were too hungry to find the camera and take a picture--you'll have to picture the beautiful greens and little tofu cubes.

Cuminy Greens and Tofu (evocative of Saag Paneer)
1 package firm tofu
1/2 C kombucha (or 2 Tb apple cider vinegar with enough apple juice to make 1/2C)
1 tsp miso soup base (I used yellow)

1 tsp olive oil
1 Tb cumin seeds, whole
2 tsp coriander seeds, whole
1/2 onion, thinly sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced

1 box of frozen spinach, thawed
2 1/2 C shredded cabbage
1/2 tsp salt
1/2 tsp garam masala
1 carrot, shredded

Press tofu for 10-20 minutes. While pressing, stir together miso and kombucha (1/2 an inch of grated ginger would be a nice addition here). Cut tofu into cubes and toss with marinade. Allow to sit as long as you can.

Rub olive oil all over a non-stick pan; bring pan to medium-high heat. Add seeds and allow to toast about thirty seconds, or until they start smelling good. Reduce heat to medium. Add onion and cook until onions are translucent. Add the tofu and garlic.

When the tofu is beginning to get golden, add remaining ingredients and cook until cabbage is tender. Serve over rice.

Bird brained

I needed a little adventure today, and since I've been really interested in birds lately, I took Fiona to the Portland Audubon Society. They have a really beautiful visitors' center with a wildlife health care center, and there is beautiful hiking to enjoy in the surrounding sancturary.

Today was great. There were volunteers taking the education birds around to visit with people. We got to meet Julio, a great horned owl, and Finnegan, a peregrine falcon. They are both unable to live in the wild and make the wildlife care center their full-time home. It feels really special to get up close to these really quite dangerous predators and see them moving. Hear them talking. Even just watching them blink is pretty darn cool.

Another really cool thing about the care center is that the hospital window is mostly glass on one side, so you can watch the volunteers at work. They had a number of birds resting in cages and aquariums, including a robin snuggled up in a towel and a little brown bird pecking at some seeds. These guys were so close to the viewing window that I could see the glass fogging up as the robin breathed in and out!

After we saw all the creatures, we hiked down the Macleay trail, following Balch Creek down into the city. It was a truly lovely day, warm and sunny, the perfect day to be out enjoying the forest and the water. The kind of day that makes you glad to be alive!

Hot, hot vegetable love!

Around our house, Valentine's Day is practically forgotten. You see, my sweetie-pie's birthday happens to fall on February 14th, changing the day from a pink-and-red holiday to "Let's Celebrate John!" day. (And have I mentioned that he hates chocolate?) I don't really mind. It's still romantic and loving to celebrate my guy.

Anyway.

The Fatfree Vegan blog is holding a recipe contest for Valentine's Day called Vegetable Love. Since I was already planning to make John a super-healthy and romantic sort of dinner, I thought I'd go the extra mile and make an entry for Vegetable Love.

I thought long and hard about what I'd make. It needed to be comforting and rich. It needed to be earthy, but still vibrant and flavorful. And since it was for John, it needed to have a spicy component--he loves spicy food, and let's face it: he's a hot guy. I spent the last couple of days wracking my brain and tried a glamorous take on mashed potatoes and gravy, with herbs and sherry and shallots. It should have been good.

Ummn. No. I learned something in the process though--I don't like tarragon nearly as much as I thought I did. And I also learned that sometimes mysterious magic happens in the kitchen. I just happened to throw this carrot dish together as a side dish, and it turned out delicious, spicy, tangy, sweet, rich. John really liked it! So here's my tribute to love this February:

Hot Love Carrots

3 large carrots, cut in matchsticks (about 2 cups)

3/4 C orange juice

1/2 tsp salt

1 Tb pepper jelly*

Scrub carrots and remove tops. Cut into matchsticks and place in saucepan with orange juice and salt. Cover and simmer until tender. Remove cover and allow orange juice to reduce by half. Stir in pepper jelly.

*Obviously different brands of pepper are spicier than others. Use one you like, and if it's not spicy enough for your hot love, give it a sexy swirl of Rooster sauce!

Sorry the photo is grainy--I have no idea why, but Blogger keeps making all my pictures funky!

Uno & Jerusalem artichokes

Sorry the last couple of days have been so quiet, but my brother has been in town, and I've been busy playing Uno like a fiend. Uno is a great family game--we play it with evil rules when we play at night, and easy rules when we play with Fi. She's getting pretty good at it, too!

It's pretty hard to get worked up about gardening while it's pouring torrentially, but I found some Jerusalem artichokes at New Seasons the other day, and I am going to plant them tomorrow. I tried in the fall, but something kept digging them up, and then one day they were just gone. Darn squirrels! I hope these do a little better, because Jerusalem artichokes are pretty tasty in their own weird way.

Out of the mouths of babes!

Let me preface this story by explaining that in our house, when you pee, you use a toilet hankie instead of toilet paper. They're reusable fabric wipies that are really handy for a kid who's just learning to wipe. We just toss them in a bin under the sink and throw them in the washing machine when we are doing laundry.

Anyway.

Last night Fiona's cousin Amelia came over for a sleep-over. Fiona was instructing Amelia in the fine art of toilet hankie usage, and she said, "the great thing about toilet hankies is that you don't waste trees."

What a great kid!

Closing the loop

Today it was time to transplant my baby garbonzo bean plants out of their egg shells. (We save the halves of our egg shells and put them back in the egg carton to make a no-mess seed starting pot. It beats the heck out of those peat pellets, which are environmental nightmares!) It's too cold to put their fragile selves outside, so I just took a couple of Trader Joe's Graham Cracker boxes, filled them with potting soil and a special amendment, and then popped the little egg cups full of baby plants into the dirt. Okay, first I squeezed the egg shells so they would be full of cracks and holes at the bottom, giving the plants' roots plenty of places to creep out and find their new soil.

That special amendment? Worm castings! I finally got enough worms out of one end of the bin to harvest the castings today. I've been feeding only the front end for about three weeks now, just waiting until I needed some delicious compost. It looked like pipe tobacco, a rich warm brown, and smelled nice, very earthy. Not stinky at all! Then I threw down some more bedding and rotated the bin. I'll be ready to collect the next half in a couple of weeks, and then I'll let it hang out for a few months, building up matter.

I love my worms!

Ecotips!

So another goal for this blog is to post regular ecotips, with labels, so they are findable.

Right now I am happy to say we are the proud non-owners of plastic wrap. During the Christmas season, I used the last of the roll that we brought when we moved into this apartment, and now we have NO PLASTIC WRAP. It's a good, but challenging situation. I find myself saving the plastic bags that tortillas and tempeh come in and reusing them. That's a good feeling. But my main tip is: you can use a plate to cover bowls of leftovers, just like your mom (or grandmother) did in the 50s! It works fine, although for the bigger bowls in my house, I had to use an inverted aluminum pie plate.

Simple food, simply great!

So here we go. New look, new focus, new Opera Buffo. I'm pretty excited, although I have a feeling the picture of the squirrel won't last long. The biggest excitement is the labels. They matter because I plan to finally post recipes here, and the labels will let you find something good to eat! Let me know how it works for you.

A lot of the food projects that I will be posting will be easy, easy weekday recipes, and they should all be vegan. It's fun to share the mad brainstorming that can happen in the kitchen when you just throw together a meal, and I really want to help more people tap into that. I keep meeting people who only cook from recipes and it blows my mind. Recipes are fun, but it's like following a paint-by-numbers kit: confining and style-less.

So let's jump in! Here's the bare bones of a great soup that you can tinker with by adding or subtracting spicy elements and crunchy toppings.


Corn Chowder

This recipe is modified from a chowder recipe in Ani's Raw Food Kitchen, and it just doesn't get easier than this.
Basic soup recipe:
2-3 cups corn; if using frozen, run under warm water to thaw
1/2 cup pumpkin seeds
1/3 cup pine nuts
1 clove garlic
1/2 tsp salt
3-5 cups hot water (3 cups to start, add water if you prefer a thinner soup)
Bells & whistles (optional):
1/2 tsp - 1 tsp ground cumin
1 chipotle chile and 1 tsp adobo sauce (more to taste)
Handful of cilantro leaves
1 or 2 chopped green onions

Place all the basic soup ingredients in a blender. Add as many or few optional ingredients. Blend on medium until smooth.

Top with any of the following ingredients:
Salsa
Black beans
Avocados, sliced
Sprouts
Corn
Green onions
Corn chips

YUM!

The times, they are a-changin'!

Prepare to see a new look coming to this blog! I've gotten a little bored with the look and content of Opera Buffo and I hope to do a little bit of remodeling.

See ya soon!

Seed Catalog

It's officially seed catalog season, friends! I keep finding myself going through mine, over and over, visualizing this year's garden. Could I really put in enough stakes and strings to support all those beans? And how much space does a zucchini plant need, really? Visions of weird lettuces and obscure herbs are dancing in my head.

I can't wait to get planting! In fact, now that I know that Everybody's Garden Center has moved, and is now only ten blocks from my house, I just might pick up some grow lights and start spring early!

Sleep is good food

Okay, that is a nonsensical title if ever there was one. But it is amazing how much better the brain works when you've had a little extra sleep. Instead of struggling for words and logic, I'm actually putting ideas together with ease and facility. Or at least I sound like English is my native tongue.

Eat to live

So I started reading a book called Eat to Live, by Joel Fuhrman, MD. Susan, over on fatfreevegan.com, has mentioned his stuff a number of times, and her recipes often draw on his work. I finally broke down and got the book from the library.

The funny thing about this book is that all the nutritional information lines up with a book I read last year called The Sun Food Diet Success System, by David Wolfe. Now this was one of the most fascinating book I have ever read. A combination of in-depth nutritional research, surfer/hippy stories, bizarre spiritual poems and recipes, all combined in the ugliest design you'll see on a book shelf (although the new edition looks pretty, the old one was green with Greek-ish clip art). Fuhrman bills himself as a mainstream weight-loss and heart health guy; Wolfe presents himself as a far-out guru.

But their information is fascinating and I think accurate. They are both advising to people to make raw greens the majority of their diet, because that is the best way to get your protein, vitamins and minerals. Yes, that's right: protein. For every 100 calories of romaine lettuce, you get 11.6 grams of protein. For every 100 calories of top sirloin, 5.4. Of course, 100 calories of romaine is like an entire pound of romaine, but that's an entirely different story...

Well, I just realized that bedtime is calling and I didn't do an of the "real" work I planned to do tonight. You know, that real writing stuff I try to squeeze in around my glamorous regular life. Crap. But what the heck--at least I started my third novel today!

Happy freakin' New Year

After six days without service, I finally have a dial tone. And if you don't think I've missed the Internet, then you are craaaazy.

See, a month ago I paid my phone bill. And those charming people at Qwest applied my payment to the account of the person who used to have my phone number. I know, because they told me today. They couldn't figure it out when I first called, December 14th. Or the second time, December 28th. Even the nice lady I talked to on January 3rd--after my phone was disconnected--didn't understand it. But they could see that I had made a payment. They just couldn't tell my account that I had. And apparently knowing that you made a payment isn't reason enough to actually fix your f*cking phone.

Needless to say, I don't have a lot of good to say about the phone company right now. In fact, if you ask me, having spent one month, five phone calls, and almost two hours of hold time, I think we're switching providers. They didn't even offer me any discounts for not being able to use my service for a *week*.

Chickadee!

So the black-capped chickadee is my first entry in my new bird list. I got a bird book for Christmas, so I am going to try to write down the birds that I actually watch and identify.

Yesterday we were hiking at Tryon Creek State Park. Fiona was telling stories, so we didn't see very many critters, but we walked around a corner and came into an open spot just chipping and swarming with tiny little chickadees. They looked like little black-dipped, winged thumbs moving around. They were so cute!

We saw a bunch of robins, too, but I had to look up the chickadees, so I'm counting them as my "first bird."

Grr thoughts

The phone company is my grr thought of the day. Why is it that their records show that I made a payment but they can't apply it to my account until a special team investigates the transaction? And why did I have to call two times about this?

Tannenbaums

I'm having a moody day. I got a fundraising letter from Care yesterday, asking for funds to help end poverty and female genital mutilation in Africa, and it kind of put a damper on my outlook. It didn't help that today, bringing home our Christmas tree, we walked past crocus and daffodil sprouts. That's right. Nothing says "global warming" quite like daffodils in December.

I didn't give Care any money. That makes me feel down, but this year's charitable giving has already come and gone. We upgraded to green power, which will be (for us) a chunk of change, but we felt like it was the biggest and most important thing to do with our money. I have to remind myself what I was thinking when I did it--that world poverty will worsen, that people's suffering will worsen, that war and strife will spread if I don't do something to help with global warming. It's the most dangerous thing facing the human race. Ever. There won't even be an Africa for those poor mutilated women to live in if we don't do something about our god-awful carbon emissions.

And so, looking at our tree, brightly lit, beautiful with paper garlands and snowflakes, I just feel even more guilty. That's a lot of electricity and a lot of CO2 sitting in my living room. The only thing that comes close to making it worthwhile is the joy in Fiona's eyes. But is that worth it?

I don't know. I just don't know.

No words in the writing desert

Man, I haven't posted on here in 11 days. And you can pretty much count on the fact that I haven't added any words to my novel, either. I got lost in the word desert the last couple of days, working on my tan.

But I guess that's normal this time of year. I don't know about the rest of you, but December comes, and I am sucked into Christmas. Big time.

To some people, that's a little weird. I mean, my sister asked me if we were still going to celebrate Christmas even though I'm now out as an atheist. (As an aside, may I point out that my parents have never, ever, ever claimed to be Christians and raised us to *fear* the church, but they are as coo-coo for Christmas as anybody I have ever met?) Of course! I love Christmas. I love the fact that for one month of the year it is okay to be happy, sing out loud for no reason at all and give people stuff. It is okay to eat fat and sugar. It was socially acceptable to wear red and green together. I love the fact that Christmas legalizes dorkiness and loving behavior. The rest of the year, those guys get swept under the designer rug of cultural norms, but this time of year, it's acceptable.

Of course, I hate all the commercial junk and the non-stop marketing blitz. Kind of. They're part of the window dressing for me, and in some ways I wouldn't trade them for anything. That said, I don't watch tv, listen to the radio or go to the mall, so that pretty means my entire exposure to marketing consists of Internet ads and stuff they put on buses. It's really pretty tame.

Happy sigh. I gotta dash. I have Christmas cards to finish.

Macy's ate my childhood memories

If anybody out here in Portland grew up going to Meier and Frank at Christmas time, I have some advice: stay far away from Macy's. It will break your heart.



I can remember taking my niece and my baby brother to the Downtown Meier and Frank to ride the rickety old monorail and cruise through the bizarre Christmas scenes. Just getting to the Christmas floor--okay, half a floor--was an adventure. We would always take the escalators, which reached a point around the eighth floor where they narrowed and grew squeakier, as if a sudden twist in time had taken us back to the building's birth in 1932. Then you had to pass through the toys and Christmas decor sections, which was a test of will power. And then! There it was! A football-field of a room, filled with Christmas, crowned by a lengthy line to a sort of stage where you could watch children taking their turn on the jolly fat man's lap.

Now the entirety of "Santaland" is cramped in a basement room the size of my front room, where a secret turn of the faux-North Pole dwelling hides Santa from any chance sighting. And the price of a chance at Saint Nick? $16, although fancy packages are available. (Who gets wallets of their kid wheeling and dealing for presents with a stranger? Jeez!)

Santaland itself is bad enough, but upon leaving the store, which, by the way, has been so thoroughly refurbished and "renovated" that it is indistinguishable from Nordstroms, just 1 block away, I felt my heart crack with the memory of M&F's Christmas windows of yore. The sweet mechanical "12 Days of Christmas" is gone. In its stead are heartless and artless displays of this year's fashions.

We all knew that Macy's would not be the kind of business that aimed to be a part of our community. But this year, it became real to me. Community, tradition, fun--trivial details to a corporation that believes that homogenized shopping experiences are the secret to commercial success. And maybe they're right. After all, they're the ones in the position to buy out our local stores.

But they still lost my dollar.

It's official!

I am shaking and a little bit crying. It's 12:56 AM, November 30th, and I have won Nanowrimo.

So now I've a day off before NaNoFiMo! Kt, if you're out there, that's the challenge site for the two of us!

Christmas gifts

You know who's having a green Christmas this year? The library, that's who. They are making BANK off me this year. Woof. When did all those books get overdue?

Holiday musings

There is something about winter, the quality of its thin gray light, the depth of its long darkness, that turns the mind to the spirit. For me, every year around this time I look into my heart and my soul and ask questions and listen for some kind of answer.

This was a weighty year in the spiritual realm for me. I explored yogic teachings and read Christian thinkers like Thomas Moore. And some time in the summer--not a time I usually think about anything more serious than sunscreen--I came to a realization. I do not believe in God.

For years, I have said something different. Something along the lines of "Of course I believe in God! God is the perfect metaphor for the beauty and harmony of the universe!" (This is analogous to my feelings about Santa and fairies and forest spirits.) And then it hit me that believing in a metaphor isn't the same as believing in something. Metaphors are not things in themselves; they are the tools we use to describe these things.

So I believe in science. I believe in a beautiful harmony and order of the universe, bound by the activities and entities than we may not understand in their entirety, but do not undermine the truths we have fought to carve out. I think that makes me an atheist.

Some people feel like atheism is a selfish, shallow, hopeless state of being. I don't see it like that. When I look at the stars in their whirling patterns of light and heat, I am awed by the forces around me, and I can name them--gravity, inertia, entropy, electromagnetism. When I hear the whoosh of my own pulse inside my body, I am thrilled to know that the same forces are at work on all the tiny motes of own being. There is such beauty there, such power and majesty.

And I can have absolute faith in the universe and its rules. Gravity will never leave me, never stop affecting me even if I should choose not to believe in it. The laws of physics will not abandon me or reject me or send me to eternal suffering for not believing in them. And they are the same for every person, no matter what book is the rule of the land around them. Now that is beautiful. That is powerful. That is awesome.

I am proud to believe these things. I am proud to say that there is plenty to have faith in that is not God. I am proud to say that I believe morality and justice and order have a place in a world that is not religious. But in many places of this world, I would be killed for saying this. In my own country, I would never elected. Many communities would not allow me to teach their children; if I was found writing about atheism on my personal website, I would be encouraged to leave my job. Even among my own friends I feel nervous saying these things. Somehow it is easier to say "Hey, I'm a Muslim now!" than "Hey! I'm an atheist!" I could wear a cross on a necklace to work--even though the cross is a torture device that has also been used to harass and frighten people, primarily blacks, in this country--but if I wore a similar item that said "Atheist," I would be asked to remove it.

That's why I put the scarlet 'A' on my page. I wanted to show people that I am proud of what I believe, even if it's not normal in the United States. I wanted to show people that a nice smart woman like me can be an atheist. And then maybe they would feel okay with themselves.

Happy holidays, everybody. Peace be with you.

Happy T-day!

A few days ago I had the random desire to see the movie "Tremors 3" again. Okay, so it wasn't random--I have the bad habit of quoting from the movie after certain ordinary bodily functions (all right! I admit it! If they stink, I shout 'Blast your own damn ass, ass blaster!'), and it had been a doozy of a day. Anyway, I was overwhelmed by the need to see Bert and company in action.

My family doesn't have a whole lot of traditions, but I feel safe saying that in the Wagner family, nothing says "holiday" quite like the Tremors movies (or tv show). I can remember the long ago Thanksgiving my oldest sister introduced us to the first movie. It was a beautiful day.

Then when I was living with my mom and brother, he was a hardcore Tremors fan, hooking me on the sequels and the show. Wow. That's some good television. Catch it if you still can--I don't think it's on the SciFi channel anymore. But you can still get all four movies on DVD (and if you've only seen the original on VHS, ruuuuun to the video store and get your hands on the DVD; the picture quality is just so much better). In fact, we were able to rent the Tremors pack, which has all four movies on it.

Yes, I did allow my four-year-old to watch Tremors (the swearing was the worst part!). I did try to cover her eyes in the scary parts. However, all that happened is that she said she'd like a pet graboid to keep in the back yard. She thought they were kind of cute.

Is she my kid or what?

Whoah ... Turkey!

I can't believe that Thanksgiving is just two days away! I am super-duper excited. This year, I am making a kale/swiss chard gratin, mashed tatoes & gravy, sweet potatoes and cranberry bliss bars. The piece de resistance: Organic Valley Eggnog. We tried this kind of eggnog at the farmer's market Saturday, and it's incredible. Not too sickly sweet, not too fakey rumish. Not yellow, either. Just mild and nutmeggy.

I love Thanksgiving! I love all those warm happy feelings of Thankfulness. And a full tummy. And our annual trip to the zoo (it's almost all volunteers running the show, so I feel slightly less bad about going out on Thanksgiving). And having breakfast with Heidi! It's just a lovely, lovely day.

The only trouble this year is how to fit in a couple hours of writing in between all that family stuff?

She failed me!

So for years--about 16, now--I've been in love with a book called Tam Lin, by Pamela Dean. It's the most amazing book I've ever read, and I re-read it almost every Halloween. (It's also landmarked in my head as one of the books lost in our housefire, when I was twelve.)

But I've never read any of Dean's other books. I never even tried to find any at the library, and I'm not sure why. I usually pick one author and gulp down every known work in an orgy of author-love. So this year, I decided, what the heck? Why not read more P. D.? And I checked out Juniper, Gentian and Rosemary.

It was fine, I guess. I mean, I love Gentian, the main character, and I liked her friends. But OMG! She used the same tricks! Even some of the same quotes! And once again, she spent pages summarizing plays that the protaganist is reading. Uggh! Uggh! Uggggggh! And to make it worse, the ending was totally unsatisfying, and the girl pisses off her cat. You just don't go around separating a girl from her cat unless it's for a really effective and satisfying climax, and this ending did not merit it. Jeez.

So I put another book on hold by Dean just in case this one was a fluke. I've got my fingers crossed. I don't want my heart to break!

Brain twisters

Why is it so much more tempting to make a blog entry than work on my latest novel-in-progress? Hmmn. I suppose part of it is knowing Fibee will wake up any moment, ruining any attempt of mine to even think coherently. Actually, now that you mention it, that's probably the biggest reason. If a bird makes a clicking sound remotely similar to the sound Fi makes when she turns off her nightlight, I spasmodically save every document and prepare to slam the laptop closed. Whew. It's exhausting.

Another difficult-to-answer question: why do my parents torture me? Why do they keep saying "Why don't you visit more often?" Or "Well if you were up here, I could get you a llama for about $5." Or worse: "Well, if you'd come up and help me build the coop, you could play with the chickens all you wanted." Yeah. Torture, especially when you consider the fact they live in WILBUR, Washington! In case you aren't familiar, it's in the the northwest corner of BFE. You know, the part with no trees. Or jobs.

Sigh. These are the mysteries that torture a woman.

Doo-doo-doo-doo-Dooooora!

I have had the Dora theme song stuck in my head all day. It's painful.

It is so creepy. I have become the face of the Portland Children's Museum. Birthday parties were featured in Portland Monthly, which is kind of my thing (actually, my face is on the birthday party brochures), and now my Bendy Wendy program is featured. And I'm on the newsletter. It's just kind of ... weird. Like almost being famous.

Me! Almost famous!

Holy freakin fong!

I'm online in my very own house!!! Wow! Wow! Wow!

This Tuesday in Garden Club we're going to talk about worms. I am so excited. I actually couldn't fall asleep last night because I couldn't stop thinking about how great the lesson will be! Then I had dreams that the worms in my bin crawled out and I was searching all over the house for the escapees.

Back ... a little bit

So I'm making an effort to get back on blogger. Dial-up is coming soon to our household ...

Do you ever have one of those days when you want to abuse the ellipsis? I think it's because I got up at a quarter to 6 this morning. I could have slept until 6, but I was starting to get nervous about this green thing the museum sent me to for breakfast, so I gave up. And I was right to be nervous. The meeting was at the Multnomah Athletic Center, and it is a frightening wealth-center. I just kept chanting to myself, "You have an invitation. At least it's not the City Club." I was nervous as hell until I saw some a couple of people wearing jeans. There's nothing like a room full of business suits to make you uncomfortable, and nothing like the comforting presence of people who are dressed worse than you.

I am cruising along, slowly, slowly, but honestly with my NaNoWriMo project. I won't make it to 50K, but 40 is not unreasonable, and I'm in LOVE with the book. It is worth waking up early for!

Sorry gang!

For now the only blogging I am doing is on my myspace blog:
http://www.myspace.com/wagnerianbuffo

I miss my blog!

Man, I miss blogging every day. Since I stopped, it feels like my writing brain has just ... shut off.

Last week was an overwhelming kind of week. I had my second meeting with Growing Gardens, and I am super psyched for the class to begin. I am also extremely gung-ho about starting a worm bin. John and I sewed bags for the preschool, which sucked up some time. John set up a stand at the Alberta Art Walk and sold a painting. I had lunch with my sister, and then my neice spent the night. We took the girls to the Polish festival on Saturday. And then yesterday was crazy day at work!

So, all in all, busy. But not too busy to learn how to play Boggle!

Back from outer space

So still no Internet at home, but I am back from vacation. We took a great trip to Eastern Washington--and no, that's not an oxymoron. Stay tuned for pictures!

Back to the 50's!

There it is folks, the image you've been waiting for. The one that's going to change the world, free up the landfills and rock your fridge.

In case you're rubbing your head, wondering what in tarnations I'm talking about, this is a picture of a bowl of leftover macaroni and cheese that's about to go in the fridge. But what the heck is on top of it?

That's right. A saucer. An ordinary, garden variety saucer. Not plastic wrap. The saucer is--get this--like a LID for the bowl. No plastic involved. No matching lids. Nothing along those lines. A reusable saucer and a reusable bowl. Wow.

In case you wondered, that's what people used to do when they had leftovers, before the plastic era came along. If there was no handy crock or jar, they just topped a bowl with a plate or saucer and considered that food covered.

Rock on, housewives of yore!

I was sniffed by a ostospermophilus beechiyi!

And he sniffed John's camera, too! I'm not really into taming wild animals, but this little Californian ground squirrel was so darn cute! He had no fear of people whatsoever and happily scrounged for food in the parking lot. Unsurprisingly, he was at least three times bigger than the other ground squirrels. I had never seen an animal with fat rolls on its arms before--he doesn't look that fat in this picture, but he had double chins AND little pudge-rolls on each limb. Poor guy. I see a short life for him. I thought about bringing him home, but once again, the no-pets rule trumps all.

I am a bad reader

I will be the first to admit that I am a terrible, uncritical reader. Unless I run across a major typographical or grammatical error, my first reading of a text is basically thoughtless. I just read a friend's critique of HPatDH, and I noticed none of the problems she noticed. Plot holes? What? My total experience was this: adrenaline, tears, adrenaline , tears. Giggle. Tears, tears, tears. And that was it.

These things continue even in the world of nonfiction (philosophy and music excepted). Right now I'm reading an amazing and terribly amusing book called The God Delusion, by Dawkins. It's a hard-core denouncement of religion and an appeal to atheism, and I'm eating it up. Six months ago, I was reading The Soul's Religion, by Thomas Moore (the contemporary Christian writer, not the 19th century one) and eating it up.

That's not to say that I never read critically. I practically lived and breathed critical analysis in college, and when I pick up anything on philosophy of mind, the derisive comments are scathing. When I read my own writing or those of people I'm editing, I can be downright brutal (in a warm and considerate way, of course). Some might even use the word 'nit-picky.'

But I guess when it comes to escapist literature, I box up my brain and let it snooze. It's pretty pathetic, and it's a bad habit. A habit I think I should break now, before it causes me permanent damage.

Kt, you've inspired me! From now on, I shall try to be a better reader!

There's no place like home

Sometimes I become overwhelmed by a vast sense of loneliness. It invades me at times I least expect it or at times when I'm feeling a little weak to begin with. It's not a loneliness for any person I know--it's a loneliness for small living things and for tall trees and the sound of rain hitting the ferns. I suppose it's homesickness.

I love living in Portland. It's a charming city, full of all the things that are good about a larger community. There's a great library system, fantastic restaurants, art, music and, most important of all, a good coffee shop on every corner. But it's not home.

Home gets a little mixed up in my head. Mostly, it's Ash Valley, with its narrow canyons and second-growth trees. I spent most of my childhood exploring a space the size of three city blocks: a wonderful expanse of swamp, stream and forest. I can remember a few hikes with Jan Tetrault, who took us kids out of our backyards and up into the hills (they'd be mountains in Pennsylvania). She told us the names of plants. What a gift.

Sometimes, home is the even smaller stretch of Gardiner that I walked with Fiona in her baby pouch. Throughout the cemetery were old garden classics like grape hyacinth and hydrangea and plum trees that were the children of the pioneers' orchards. Then there were the tenacious weed-fields that were slowly taking back the old mills.

Further afield but equally loved was the beach and the spruce forests abutting the shore. I can think of no place more enchanted than the woods behind Haceta Head. The forest spans no fewer than 4 microclimates with varying guilds of plants and lichens, and the duff is so thick that your feet spring up on every step.

And of course home has never been home without the animals. My first real memories include the lambs, butting up against smell and all milky-smelling. After that, there were the cats, so many I can hardly count. Squirrels and deer and rescued baby bats and ducks and snakes and horses. And chickens. And donkeys. The city can feel a little lonely with all the pets just hidden away.

That loneliness is always there. Most of the time, it slumbers, held under the surface by the distractions of city life. But sometimes, when things get quiet, it wakes up. And I am homesick again.

Guerrilla gardens update!

Sorry for all the delays on guerrilla gardening at its finest! But I've gotten things up and running and should have more regular fantastic posts on everybody's favorite topic: the shady side of plants!

So check out what's new on http://guerrillagardenspdx.blogspot.com/!

Survivalist

It's hard to believe, but I think deep down I want to be a survivalist. You know Bert from Tremors? I want to be him.

A lot of that has to do with my childhood out in the Oregon woods (when you put it like that, it sounds sooo rustic). My parents weren't really the back-to-the-land types--mostly because they'd never left it. I mean, right now they live in a house my dad built himself, and he only added a bathroom last summer. His designs for an outdoor shower with a homemade flash water heater were pretty cool, too. And my mom? Well, she grew up without electricity.

Needless to say, childhood memories of helping in the garden and licking jam out of pots aren't all idyllic, but as I get older, I find myself drawn more and more strongly to that life. It's not just nostalgia. Exposure to "The Morning After" and "Max Max & The Thunderdome" at an early age seems to have triggered a profound paranoia about the end of civilization as we know it. Deep down, I'm just waiting for the petroleum to run out and my knowledge of hand-sewing to come into play.

Anyway, if you get a chance, I recommend the book that I'm reading: The Post-Petroleum Survival Guide and Cookbook, by Albert Bates. It's like a summary of all the stuff I'm obssessed with, give or take a few pointers on loom construction and operation of your own printing press.

Oh yeah. I'm getting more Bert every day.

White trash vegan

Tonight I had to dip down into the bottom of my recipe cheats and make something tasty and easy to go with macaroni salad. I was feeling mighty lazy, so here's what I came up with:

Po' White Beets
1 bunch baby beets and greens
1/2 Tb olive oil
1/2 C lemonade
1 tsp white wine vinegar
salt & pepper to taste.

Scrub beets and remove all but 2-3 inches of stems. Heat oil in pan on med. high heat; when warm, toss beets around for about 2 minutes. Add lemonade. Cover, reduce heat to low and simmer until beets are fork-tender (about 4 minutes if very small). Add beet greens, vinegar, salt and pepper. Cover and simmer an additional minute until everything is soft.

Lazy Kidneys
1 can kidney beans
1 Tb ketchup
1 tsp onion powder
2 dashes hot sauce

Stir to combine and heat in the microwave.

The creepy thing about these foods is that they turned out the same color. Still, they tasted mighty tasty and took less than 10 minutes to prepare; they were low-fat and healthy. It almost made up for the Safeway macaroni salad. Yummmmmmm.

Best of Opera Buffo

Man, I was doing some maintenance on the site and started reading old posts from my first year as a blogger. What great memories! Some of the stuff Fiona used to do just cracked me up. I might have to repost some of the better entries, because they are worth reading again.

Oh, and if anybody misses the scintillating conversation about water conservation, I'm sorry, but said site maintenance may have eaten it. Oops. Just remember to take shorter showers, and if it's yellow, let it mellow!

Wasting away

John and Fiona spent yesterday in the basement, staying cool. John also tackled an experiment. He decided to see how much water a load of laundry uses.

He recently picked up some fifteen-gallon drums from work, so he brought some down to the basement and placed the outlet hose inside one. When it got full, he moved it to a second drum, which fortunately, was just big enough. A full load of laundry takes about thirty gallons of water to wash and rinse.

Thirty gallons.

A camel will go four months without water and then drink thirty gallons without stopping. It may go another four months without needing to drink again.

According to Missippi State, a productive, full-grown apple tree needs about 30 gallons a day to live and make apples.

According to the Afghanistan Human Develpment Report, 20 liters of water a day is a basic human right. One load of laundry = water for about 5 people for one day.

Thirty gallons, so I can smell good.

Recycling for chimps!

Today's big excitement: I made arrangements to collect the museum's toner & ink cartridges and donate them to Chimps Inc! Chimps Inc is a chimp sanctuary in Bend. I just read about them in the Oregonian today (they are embroiled in a lawsuit to keep two of their ape charges, who may or may not 'belong' to another chimp sanctuary in Texas), and I was so excited to learn that there was a sanctuary HERE, in Oregon! For about twenty minutes, I was all set to move to Bend so I could become a volunteer.

It's funny. Growing up, I was always afraid of chimpanzees. (This might be because of a horror movie with a murderous chimp.) My mother always disliked them, too. But lately, I have become very drawn to chimpanzees. For some reason, of all the creatures who have suffered at the hands of humans, chimpanzees now touch me the most deeply. In some ways, I feel so strongly about them that I really would pack up and move to Bend if I thought that was the best way I could help them. And I don't know. Maybe it would.

Why can't they live in Corvallis? Or someplace that's not the desert?

I'm gonna have the greenest lawn in town!

No, aliens have not confiscated mybrain cells and replaced them with a suburbanite's. See, our landlord included a "you must water your lawn" clause in our rental agreement. He spent about 15 minutes going over it. (You should have been there for the section about signage--political signs are okay, business signs, no. That took at least half an hour.)

Anyway, John has turned into a super water-recycler. He decided he would empty out our baths and put the water on the lawn. That was only a couple of days ago, and already, the lawn in front of our half of the duplex is three shades darker than the anemic stuff by the neighbor's.

I don't know Steve would feel about our littl graywater processing system, but I hope he appreciates that this summer his water bill ought to be a little lower--and his lawn a little greener.

Putting a face on my veggies

At first the subject was "Food With A Face," but since I don't eat foods that actually have faces (i.e. critters), it didn't make sense. What I meant is that I finally got my first box of CSA produce and I got to meet our farmer.

Now, Lyle is not the lovable hippy who first turned me into a CSA nut, back when I was living in Minnesota with my sister. I think he is a recovering New Yorker, and he treats his subscribers with the brusque attitude you imagine when you think "New Yorker." The attitude is essentially "you'll get your vegetables when and where I tell you to get your vegetables, and you'd better like it." I want to take umbrage, but it's pretty hard to complain when you're holding the most beautiful bok choy you've ever touched and the man's giving you instructions on the preparation of Indian Mustard. Which, by the way, is at least as spicy raw as horseradish.

And he stuffed a giant bunch of hot pink wild roses into our produce box just because I said they were pretty.

Yesterday, leaving the farmers' market, my head was spinning. I really wasn't sure what to think about our new grocery set-up. But this afternoon, with the roses on the table and a single purple bloom nodding above the a bunch of chives on the kitchen counter, I feel so smitten I have no room for complaints. And the perfect kale I stirred into our curried vegetables was so tender and tasty, I knew there was no turning back.

My kind of W

I have a confession. I read Vogue. And W. And Teen Vogue. Okay, those are just the fashion magazines that I have subscriptions to. You can put Lucky in my hands, and I’m salivating. Even Town and Country makes me grin.

What is it about me and these magazines? After all, they stand for everything I’m against: consumerism, selfishness, fur. They trade on the frailty of young women’s body images. They substitute journalism for advertising, and worst of all, they are loaded with perfume samples!

But I can’t get enough of them. I can’t get enough of Stella McCartney. Dolce and Gabbana. Alexander McQueen. I can not tear my eyes away from a photograph of Coco Rocha, and if it includes Agyness Deyn, so much the better. (So, so much better.)

On a good day, I like to chalk it up to a love of beauty, art, design. On a bad day—the kind of day I catch myself waxing nostalgic for "America’s Next Top Model," Season 3—I wonder if I’m really the person I think I am.

Then I reach for The Vegetarian Times with a shrug. Everybody’s got their weaknesses. Mine are just a little glossier than I’d like them to be.

Curse of the blogging 'meme'

So Kt got hit with a blogging "meme," which I personally think is a bastardization of the word. The idea was coined by Richard Dawkins and used a lot by one of my favorite philosophers of mind, Daniel Dennett, and really has been used mostly to discuss the parasitical function of religion (i.e., how many religions contain ideas that are actually harmful to the individual organism, but spur along the religion itself--hey, I'm just quoting D.D. from his last visit to Portland, folks). Anyway, I digress. It sounds like I'm supposed to answer the following question:

Why do you blog? Give five answers.

1. Because I am narcissistic and love to subject others to my own rambling thoughts.
2. Because I can vent philosophal thoughts with facing other philosophers--or go back to school.
3. Because it keeps my writing muscles sharp.
4. To share my real thoughts with friends that, because of distance, would probably only get a shallow Christmas-card-level of communication any other way.
5. Because my own handwriting is fairly terrible and I have gotten too lazy to use a paper journal (and hey, it saves paper!).

That's what it's all about

At the museum, there is an area for children to use a computer to take their picture and type a little caption, then print out their document. Today my coworker found one a girl had printed and lost. It said: I am 6 years old. I love my mommy very much. I wish she would come down from heaven so I could see her again.

My little girl is sick and miserable today. I hugged her extra, extra tightly.