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I finally got my invitation to Ravelry and I signed up immediately. Since it's totally in beta right now, you have to wait for the administrators to invite you.
To quote Spongebob:
"It tastes like I always imagined it would"
I'm uploading projects, I've joined the Crochet Liberation Front, I've found new patterns. I am totally geeking out in a crazy yarn way. It's sick. I need help.
yeah, fixed. and by fixed I mean I just went back to my old template.
Creating a whole new blog on MT4 or creating your blog with all the new stuff, totally easy. Trying to upgrade your blog but keep your styles...headpoundingly frustrating.
I will continue to hammer away at it, but for now, we will revel in the deliciousness that is my pinkity pink blog and my Ghengis/Maddie/Dino banner that Jessi made for me.
I just upgraded to Movable Type 4. More specifically, the ever awesome Pavel from Living Dot did the upgrade for me. So, two things
1) if things get wonky, be patient while I work out the new features and try to get things going.
2) if you are looking for a web host I more than recommend Living Dot as a host. From the beginning they've been pleasant, helpful, fun and responsive. Their tech support is in the US and they speak english (not that I'm disparaging the other languages of the world, it's just that when your tech support dude says "i doubt at the installation part of you" to you...). Their prices are reasonable, I've never had a minute of down time (that I know of) and again, the tech support is out of this world.
Wish me luck my peeps!
I'm working on the day 4 photos and movies and eating generic lucky charms. I also have two dogs right next to me on the sofa wrestling for my love.
okay, fuck it, I filled Chester's canine genius with dog food and generic lucky charms(mostly dog food but planting the idea that there might be MORE lucky charms inside if he just keeps working on it makes for quiet time). Maddie needed a break. Ever since we got back from the BWCA Chester has decided that the only thing I am allowed to love is him. He's the only one I can snuggle with or talk to or give belly rubs to. David is starting to miss his belly rubs.
This is a new one on me. I've never really seen this behavior in a dog. It's like jealousy but dogs don't really have jealousy as such. Mostly I don't involve myself in the dog politics, I expect them to work things out their own way. Lately I have had to get involved because he'll pester Maddie to the edge of madness if she spends too much time with me. A couple minutes in the dominance roll calms him down for a bit.
***
David was doing laundry and found one of Anna's shirts that she must have left here while housesitting. I found another. Today at lunch I gave Anna her shirts but she only claimed the nerdy Lord of the Rings shirt, not the other one. The three of us debated whose shirt it might be, but we all had to conclude that we each knew our own clothes and we would know if that was ours.
So, if anyone is missing a Gap 100% cotton button down shirt, size medium, medium blue with slender white and grey stripes, I have it. You can have it back if you can explain how it got in my laundry room.
***
David was at the grocery store looking at the pistachios when a guy came up, grabbed a handful and walked away. Later, David found a pile of pistachio shells by the water jug filler.
Now, I'm no fuddy-duddy, but damn. DAMN. You want to try a grape and make sure they're sweet, okay that's fine. Maybe you're not sure if you like the chocolate covered wienerpops in the bulk bin....pushing it, but try one. Only one!
The large barrels of peanuts and pistachios are for sale, not for snack. They are not put out as a public service to quell the hunger of stupid shoppers. They are put out so that customers may pick the amount they want and purchase (PURCHASE) that amount.
And I don't want to hear the argument "well, the grocery store is screwing us! this is my way of getting even!" You're not getting even, you're eating pistachios that you didn't pay for. If you want to 'get even' then go to another grocery store. The nice thing about this free-marketesque economy is that if you can patronize any business you want. You show support or anger with your wallet, not with pistachios.
Also, throw your shells away you shit! Do you think they just disappear into thin air once you put them down and walk away? They don't other customers have to see them and buy the products near them. Somebody also has to pick them up and throw them away for you. Are you so out of touch that you think "hey! pistachios! i love pistachios, I should eat some" and then "my hand is full of empty pistachio shells...don't need those!"?
Our every action, large and small, cuts a path in this world. Our every action is a stone dropped in a pond, the ripple moves outward affecting a larger and larger area. Your choice is to make sure that the paths you cut in this world are clean and productive, not destructive. Your goal should be to keep the ripples to a minimum.
I guess shit like this (and graffiti tagging and petty theft and whatnot) is that it shows such a lack of perspective on the part of the person doing it. They think only of themselves, their adoration of pistachios, their need to mark their territory with a paint can, the love of a good stop sign. I don't expect people to live as ascetics eating rocks and quietly mumbling apologies to the world, just have some perspective. Think about something other than your wants, consider that other people don't want to pick up your pistachio shells!
Wolves in the distance woke me and I lay there listening. Up before the sun, peed by a log. Basic camping stuff.
David and I went down to the rock at the water to take in the sites and appreciate what 'was'. The nice thing about having an entire lake to yourself is that you can go around in your underpants and offend no one! Well, no one but the beavers, but they're dicks anyway.
Chester tried to do his best Sean Penn impression but failed.
We relaxed with our feet in the water, the sun still hidden behind us. We were protected by the rocks and the trees. As the sun came around I could tell it had chosen me as its special victim (because, you know, the sun has it out for me). I scooted into the shade and pulled a towel over me. I even commented that perhaps at this age I should be more responsible about my skin and avoid getting burnt. Yeah, remember the time I went to Key West and got burnt so bad my skin was purple and it radiated heat for days? Yeah, I need to stop doing that.
David slathered me in spf 8000 and we decided this would be a quiet day. As I mentioned in a previous post, my goal was to find equilibrium, to make peace with myself. Today was the day. I grabbed my book, some crossword puzzles (even junkies need a fix in the wild) and my trail mix and headed out to a shaded rock that overlooked the lake.
David was busy collecting and boiling water so Chester decided that he's get way more passing out done near me. As the sun moved, so did I. I was determined to stay away. Screw you, sun!
Between crossword puzzles and chapters in my book I spent a lot of time thinking. Contemplating. The results are in the post previous to this.
It really was one of those days where you sit very still and allow yourself to stop projecting and start accepting what is around you. (Stop Projecting! Start Accepting! I'm totally going to write a self help book and act like a dick and be a darling of daytime talk show hosts! Better watch it Dr Phil, I'm gonna knock your ass into a spin.). Of course while I was sitting and navel gazing, David was taking the canoe out and actually doing camp related survival chores like removing Giardia lamblia from our drinking water.
Speaking of water, I am stupid! When we g camping we bring a certain amount of water with us, but it's not intended to last the trip. At 8 pounds a gallon, you're really not going to bring all the drinking water you need with you. You will have to collect and filter or boil the water. Getting the water from the middle of the lake allows you to have water without so many floaty bits in it. As I was watching our 'city' water supplies dwindle I automatically went into reserve mode. I wanted to make it last. i knew in my head that we would be boiling some soon, but I was responding to the visual. I stopped drinking water and when I did drink some it was only a small amount. On day 2 I only peed twice and the second time was right before we went to bed and I had to think of waterfalls and Dr Phil to make it happen. Lack of pee in this very hot weather with all this exercise means lack of hydration.
The headache started on day 3. Along with the contemplating and sun fear, I was also battling a headache from dehydration...in the wilderness...with no Alleve. I told David and he made me drink a lot of water and kept on me, but the headache just had to run its course. I seriously considered trying to find a willow tree and boiling its bark because I read somewhere that aspirin came from the bark of willow trees and even though there are no willow trees there...I was going to try. No I wasn't.
To make myself feel better, I laughed at the dog.
Also, he has actual buttcheeks. My dog has buttcheeks! If my dog could dial a phone he'd totally be calling for help since I'm always pinching his little doggie buttcheeks.
fuzzy dude on the tent
I think he wants to kill me.
By mid afternoon I knew I had lost my battle. Sunscreen, shade, sacrificed squirrels, it didn't matter, my back and shoulders were burnt all to hell. They hurt and I was not feeling very happy about this. Fucking sun! I'm going to get in a spacemobile and fly to you and punch you right in the photosphere!
We ate rehydrated food and campfire baked potatoes and some MREs and we split a bottle of wine while watching the sun go down. I felt better after that.
Hanging the food in the tree was harder for some reason and I got stabbed by an angry tree. There was cloud cover so we could not watch the stars.
I'll get back to posting pictures and amusing anecdotes about wilderness poop soon.
I went to the BWCA with a mission. I had to find a way to make peace with myself and the universe. To find a way to reconcile a universe that would kill my dog and reconcile with my own self over the 'betrayal' of my brain.
1. everything that we are, every element, every atom, every molecule is found throughout the universe. there is nothing here on earth that cannot be reproduced with raw materials anywhere else in the universe. If this is the case then what are we but the universe. and what was ghengis but the universe. the suv that hit him, his blood, the tears, the grief, the ashes, all of it is part of the universe. My anger? universe. all of it.
I went to the seclusion and quiet of the BWCA to try to make peace with the universe. To find a way to forgive the universe for kicking me in the gut. I was tired of being angry. I wanted an apology. From the universe.
I spent time contemplating. I spent time alone thinking. I was still. I was active. I waited for the sign. Because I'm like that. That's right, bitches, the universe is going to give ME an apology! me! not you.
And what conclusion did I come to? What information did I take in when I relaxed and let it in? I went back. I went back to the time before Ghengis died. I went back to the understanding that the universe is without intent. That a great deal of my anger in grief was conceited. It was centered on myself. It was saying "fuck you, universe! how dare you kill my dog!". The universe didn't kill my dog. I mean it did, my dog died, but the universe did not kill ghengis because he was my dog. The universe just juggernauts forward. Anger, while completely natural in grief is misplaced.
Anger is a response that says "you wronged me! I am wronged!"
I was not wronged. I am part of this amoral universe. this unplanned, uncontrolled whirling fantasia. in 14 billion years stars come and go, planets form and get destroyed, life starts, stops and starts over. The idea of "fair" is a construct. There is no "fair" or "unfair". Having you dog die isn't about "fair" it just is. To say I was "wronged" is to say that I am somehow important enough to be noticed and plotted against. To say it is "unfair" is to say that I should be exempt from the vagaries of life.
To distill this down...Shit happens, but it doesn't happen TO me. It happens and sometimes it affects me.
2. Depression is a pain in the ass. Going to see the psychiatrist every few weeks, tweaking your prescriptions, taking pills that make you tremble or sleep or not sleep or poop nuggets...it's all a pain. Sometimes I feel betrayed by my brain, by the chemistry and the circuitry in there. Why can't I just have a brain that creates the normal chemicals, why can't I just 'suck it up' and feel okay?
Why?
There is no 'why'. To ask 'why' in the metaphysical sense "why can't I have what other people have? why can't my brain be normal?" is to assume that you've been selected personally to be insulted.
I have not been personally selected for a miswired brain. Oh sure, we can point to incidents during development, but again that leads you to a question that should not be asked.
Again, in short...shit happens. asking 'why' just keeps you sitting in idle. I have stopped asking 'why' or rattling on about 'fair'. It is neither fair or unfair, just a fact. To move forward you have to get out of idle and turn on your blinker.
I accept what there is. I cannot fight it, only work with it.
I did not get the answers I expected when I was up there, but I did find the answers that I knew all along.
Let us take a moment to hear from Anna, the awesome dog sitter who loves Maddie almost as much as I do...
I think...
I wake up. It is raining. I wait. David is sleeping. I am awake. It is raining. David is sleeping. It's 6am. David is sleeping. I am awake. Chester is sleeping. It is raining.
By 10am I am way bored, I am regretting leaving my book in the back pack instead of bringing it into the tent with me. By 10am I have to pee like a maniac. All that rain has sent its not so subliminal message to my bladder. I get dressed and pull on my (awesome) new raingear. David asks me if perhaps I should wait to see what happens with the rain. I am determined, I have to pee.
I go out into the rain. I get ready to do the awkward outside squat pee. Can the people at the other campsite across the lake see my giant white ass? Should I pee somewhere else? Why would they be out in the rain staring across the lake? Are they perverts who like to watch human dugongs pee in the rain? Probably not.
After I do my graceless business I start to gather things that could entertain and feed me in the tent until the rain stops. I ask if it's a bad idea to canoe in the rain, David reminds me that the canoe is aluminum and the lake is water and maybe we shouldn't tempt fate.
I gather my stuff and...the rain stops. I could have waited. I curse the sky and my bladder for conspiring against me.
We breakfast on Clif bars and canned Starbucks coffee drinks. I'm no fool, I know my caffeine needs. David knows that the most dangerous thing in the wilderness is me without caffeine...or possibly the most pathetic.
We discuss our camp options. We don't know if the campers across the lake will be moving on to the next campsite or staying where they are, we don't know if the next campsite is already taken. If it is, we're screwed. More specifically, I'm screwed. The next campsite is on the other side of the next lake and at the other end of a death march 3 mile portage. Remember, we can't carry everything in one trip so that would make 9 miles of hiking. We hiked this trail the last time we were up here. Highlights included trying to balance on a fallen tree, avoiding primordial muck, being carried across a particularly messed up beaver dam site and once getting my short fat leg stuck on a log I was trying to climb over. I kind of don't want to try this while laden with 2 thousand pounds of stuff. I do not tell David about this, I do not want to be a whiner.
Eventually we decide the people across the lake are staying put. We load up and head out. Once again Chester is terrified of the canoe. At the other side of LaPond Lake we hit a patch of lake grass and lily pads. Dipshit dog jumps. I bet it was a big damned surprise to him that this was not the dry land he thought it would be. I promised David that I would not panic if the dog jumped out, so I didn't. I just shut my eyes and sat very still. Inaction is the choice not to screw things up!
Chester gets his sorry ass hauled up into the canoe.
He then crawls to the front of the canoe, worms his way around and drapes his stinky wet body across my lap to sulk. Jerk.
Actually, this isn't too bad. He's found some level of comfort on my lap and has fallen asleep. This is good.
We navigate the low water/high grass and manage to find the waterway between the two lakes. This is one of my favorite parts of the trip. There are water lilies everywhere and since the waterway winds and curves, you don't have that sense of urgency or long distance that you do on a larger lake.
The next portage is less than a quarter mile. The trail is easy and quick with few obstacles. We move our stuff quickly and get back in the canoe. Chester is much calmer this time. I think he's got it figured out. We complete the waterway and end up on Big Rice Lake.
Could it be? HOORAY! No one is at the campsite! We get the campsite. We land, we empty the canoe and take over.
Chester decides to do the one thing he excels at...passing out
Once everything is set up, David and I head down to the water to watch the sun set and bask in the absolute aloneness of it all. Big Rice Lake is, as the name implies, big (though it's not made of rice, that's a misnomer intended to confuse people) and there is not another campsite on the lake. I am so charmed by this. I am amazed! Someone like me can have this entire lake to herself (and her boyfriend and dog, though the dog does not count since he didn't haul anything).
We head up to camp, build a fire and roast wieners, cook up MRE's and grub through whatever else fit in our mouths.
One of the categories in the "Great Outdoors Guide to Things That Aren't Cool" is "Things that bite you that aren't bears". This includes biting flies, deer flies, horse flies, Be'elzebub's Demonic Flies of the Deep and Mosquitoes. All day in the sun you are attacked by the various flies, as the sun sets you get 12 minutes reprieve, then the insatiable swarm of mosquitoes zeros in on you.
A lack of planning ahead has forced us to try to hang our food in the middle of the pitch black. It sucked, we succeeded. Wolves howled in the distance and again I was charmed to death. I'd never heard it before. It's such a mournful, keening sound.
Finally we crawled into our sleeping bags, listened to the angry beaver slap the lake and fell asleep.
We make promises to get up early and get out the door early. We both know that we both love the bed too much to get up early, but it feels good to say it out loud.
Even if we don't mean it.
I get up first and decide to do something about the food situation. We have a ton of food and it's really heavy. I'm trying to figure out what we can get rid of. Nothing. I pack a few more things and roust David and we get going. I leave a long page of information for Anna regarding how to live in my house and how to deal with Maddie. Most people just toss a $20 and the keys on the table and know that the house/dogsitter with figure it out.
I got problems.
Finally, we're on the road, but first we have to stop at Walgreens to pick up my prescriptions, moleskin for my feet, alleve and batteries. David has to deal with the pharmacist dorkass that charged him for my last prescription pick up when he should not have (don't ask). I wander away to look at enemas, corn removers and condoms. Then I head back out to the car because I freak about leaving the dog in the car for more than about 27 seconds. He's barking at the old man walking by.
Finally, we're on the road for real! Except there's construction and we miss an exit. Then we're on the road for real.
Some hours later I call to make sure our canoe reservation is still valid. The woman is either drunk, insane or not actually an employee. She has no idea what I'm talking about but she assures me that everything will be fine.
We stop in Ely to pick up our permit and head a billion miles out to the wilderness. We made arrangements with a resort on Big Lake to rent a canoe from them and also stow the car there. We get there and everything is in order (thankfully). We wrap everything in plastic, load up the canoe and try to get started.
Except Chester is not so keen on the canoe thing. The canoe is new and terrifying. David gets him in and he promptly jumps out. Awesome. David then hands me a wet Chester and tells me to hold him. Damned wet dirty dog.
We head out.
About 1/4 of the way across the lake Chester plasters his body against mine and shakes. Every time Chester moves the canoe rocks and I stiffen. I spend a lot of time worrying about being tossed from a canoe or worse, having our stuff dumped into the lake.
Finally we get him to move
It takes us about an hour to get across the lake. We're not even in the BWCA until we are past the lake. On the other side of the lake is a 1/2 mile portage. We get out of the canoe and hope hope that the campsite on the lake on the other side of the portage is available. It's too late to keep going and we need to set up camp before it gets dark.
We divide our stuff and walk the half mile. David is a faster hiker, he heads out before me. The very beginning of the portage is a very steep climb up smooth rock. Fuck. For most people this would be work but not insurmountable. For the human dugong, however, this is an epic quest. I start to climb but my pack is too heavy and it's slung too low. I'm too bottom heavy. Great. The Weekly World News is going to run a cover story about "Mysterious Beluga Found Beached 1200 Miles from Ocean". It will be the first time they print something true.
I decide to toss all my stuff to the top. Up goes the pack and the sleeping pads. Oh, awesome, one sleeping pad decided that it would hit the top and roll off the side. Is that muck at the bottom? Why yes it is! Luckily it stopped before the muck. I climb the rocks and shove everything up the next incline. At the top I get everything together and start marching.
Chester follows David for a while but comes back to me. He worries about me and he is right to. At any moment I could trip on a rock and land directly in a bear's mouth. Chester is pretty sure that camping is awesome! Everything smells different, there are all kinds of new poop to snuffle and he can run his piggy little butt around. He also likes to stop and stand at attention with no warning. At first I was trying to be nice and encourage him to keep going. Eventually I threatened to shove a size five hiking boot up his ass.
When I get to the end of the portage David tells me that the other site is taken but we're not going back. He finds a relatively clear, flat spot that we can camp at for at least one night. I head back down the path to get the rest of the stuff portioned to me. 1/2 mile to the campsite, 1/2 mile to the canoe, 1/2 mile back to the campsite. 1 1/2 miles of hiking on rocky, twisted terrain, 1 mile of that carrying heavy shit.
I can't really complain, though, David carries the canoe on each portage. He has to pick that fucker up, flip it over and get the pads on his shoulders and then do the death march. I can't do that.
David gets the campsite set up and I organize our stuff. There is no official fire ring since it's not a campsite so we cannot have a campfire. I won't even risk it. Everything has been so hot and dry and I don't want to be that asshole that burns down one of the last wild places in the country.
We sit on the rocks and eat cheese, sausage, crackers and apple as the sun sets.
I delivered my Def Strawberry Jam and my salsa verde (possibly to be named Zapata's Vacation and Zapata's Revenge for mild and spicy respectively) to the State Fair this afternoon. I love the women there. All I want to do is hug them and eat cookies with them! Already a million jars of a million other things had been dropped off, I don't count my chances too high. It's fun either way and next year I'll submit more.
Unrelatedly...
David and I stopped at McDonald's on the way home from camping. It's a strange fact, but people who finish camping crave huge amounts of fat and protein. Somewhere along the line McDonald's has started printing the nutrition info on their food. Holy shit. Everyone knows McDonald's is unhealthy, but what surprised me was just HOW unhealthy it was. I could not for the life of me figure out how they managed to cram that many calories and grams of fat into anything. I'm not the healthiest eater around, but I'm generally aware of the nutritional value of what I eat. We were blown away.
I got a quarter pounder and medium fries and that was almost 900 calories. The sodium and fat content would choke a horse. Now, I certainly agree that a lot of the obesity epidemic is about making poor choices, I'm proof of that. I'm educated and well informed about nutrition and I still make choose the gooier options. I gotta say, however, that there's no way I would have put a simple burger and fries up that high. Doing my own research I found that I can put together a similar meal at 1/2 to 2/3 the calories.
What exactly are those fuckers putting in the food anyway?
Luckily I almost never eat there or I'd be way way fatter than I am.
also unrelatedly...
We brought back 2 quarts of wild blueberries from the BWCA. I will be making jam with 1 quart and we will be eating the rest. Do not ask me for any blueberry jam. Just don't. I'm not sharing it with anyone and especially not with anyone who asks for it. It took us 90 minutes in the hot sun to collect those berries and that was after days of not finding any in the usual places. Mine. I get to be greedy once in a while.
bu relatedly...
After 90 minutes in the hot sun I decided that migrant farm workers needed to be paid more. Jesus, that sucked and I was just doing it for myself. I can't imagine having to do it to support a family. Migrant farm workers need to network and unionize for fair wages and America needs to stop being such babies about what their food costs. Hell, if you want to complain about food costs lets talk about the recent hike in dairy prices since cattle feed has gotten so expensive as a result of the dimwitted and short sighted E-85 ethanol bullshit.
It's after 11 and I need to eat me some dinner.
I am bruised, bumped, scraped and cut. I am sunburned so badly I want to cry. My muscles ache, it rained on us, flies bit me, mosquitoes bit me. I had to walk forever carrying heavy packs over rough terrain and my dog jumped out of the canoe, had to be rescued and then draped his stinky wet body over my lap to sulk while I tried to paddle.
So why do I go to the BWCA?
Because after the sun sets, David and I can lay on the rock ledge that overlooks the lake and we can watch the stars come out. The loons call to one another from lake to lake and later the wolves sing their mournful dirge. We can lay there counting shooting stars (we had 9 one night) and know that there is not another human for miles.
I have a billion photos and some movies and I'll try to get things loaded and captioned and I will try to pare the stories down so you don't have to scroll through 87 paragraphs looking for the juicy bits.
Tomorrow we leave for the BWCA. David spent the evening prepping and packing and getting ready.
I spent the evening standing over boiling pots and stirring and burning myself (note to self: jam is mostly sugar, it's way way hotter than water). I finished the Def Strawberry Jam, it worked out beautifully. I am so pleased with it. I worked out my salsa verde recipe and processed it. It is truly a thing of beauty. I may have to call and switch from 'mild' to 'hot' salsa. It's hotter than expected.
anyway, I'm exhausted, I've not slept well since Thursday night.
I leave you with the above photo of Maddie and Chester waiting in the window. This is what I see every time I come home whether I'm gone for an hour or an entire day, they stay in the window. Maddie is more vigilant, she stays in the window and moves for nothing, she even sleeps there.
Wish us luck! I'll come back with photos and movies or cool bear scars!
(also, go see a Fringe show!)
I don't know why, but this makes me laugh and laugh and laugh
I love Panama so much.
Standing in the front yard I hear a crazy buzz. It was kind of like a cicada, but not as happy. I scan the trees and finally find it. A very small sparrow had a very large cicada in her mouth and the cicada was all buzzing "holy shit! this isn't food or sex! this isn't what I wanted! What the hell! I want food or sex. WHAT IS THIS?"
Then he twisted and got away. Seconds later I heard him in the back yard doing a regular buzz and then another "HOLY SHIT!!!" buzz.
SO much going on and so little time.
David and I had been talking for a while about getting camping but hadn't really moved on it. Suddenly it's the end of summer and he is going to have to go back to school and we have the students coming back to MCAD and I won't be able to take time off at the end of August.
Talked to my boss and decided to go camping this coming Wednesday even though it's short notice. Since the trip is coming up we have much to do before we go.
The Fringe Festival started this weekend and now we have to cram many shows into a few days. We saw two last night, we will see two tonight and one each on Monday and Tuesday. All this and we still need to get our camping gear and food packed before we leave Wednesday morning. We're thinking of bringing Chester with us. We're reasonably sure he'll have a good time up there and not be a jerk. If we were going to Voyaguers National Park I would say no, bears are much more common there and dogs don't mix well with bears (they try to protect you from the bear and then when they realize they can't win they come running back to you for protection with an angry bear at their heels). While it is possible to see a bear in the BWCA, it is far less likely. We saw evidence of bears when we were there, but we never saw them.
We are also thinking of bringing Chester because he's in the midst of his jackass angsty teen months and I'm not keen to thrust that upon Anna. Ghengis went through the same sort of thing but he was less Jackass and more Whiny Attention Whore. Let's just hope that Chester doesn't freak and try to jump out of the canoe and get attacked by beavers.
And I still need to finish up my State Fair entries.
State Fair entries are not going so well. I mentioned earlier that the chutney turned out but I felt it was not great by any means. The first batch of cherry jam failed miserably and while I can salvage it as a pastry filling, I cannot enter it. The second batch of cherry jam seemed to turn out until 24 hours later when I checked it and realized that all of the cherries had separated out of the gel and floated to the top. The gel part became super gelled and the cherries are just loose at the top. Since 'Distribution of Fruit' is part of the judging criteria, this will also not be submitted. Let's hope the Def Strawberry Jam and the Salsa Verde turn out.
What I need to find out is if the problems with the jam are an error on my part or if it has something to do with the pectin, a brand I've never used before. I'll ask around and see.
Also there's laundry and dishes and vacuuming to be done.
Over and out my peeps.
Dear Sir,
I understand that it's important for the morale of the nation to see your goofy monkey face superimposed on the disasters of the day. I agree, nothing takes the edge off of pain and fear like a little monkey romping around for treats. It's good, I'm glad you are paid well in the service of your country.
What perplexes the hell out of me is why your helicopters have to fly so damned low over my house. Granted, I live near the airport and air force base, so I am used to a certain level of air traffic noise, but nothing could have prepared me for a helicopter racing mere inches over my house (or at least it sounded like inches, it could have been feet). I know, I know, you're not actually in charge of anything, you don't really make the decisions, but damn! I don't want to think about helicopters crashing at 9am on a Saturday!
Whatever happened to the silent unmarked helicopters I hear so much about? Why couldn't you use one of those? Oh, right, only the people in power get to use those. Well, maybe ask Cheney if you could borrow it next time? maybe?
Also, why couldn't you coordinate your visit to coincide with Laura's? We had helicopters all over yesterday as well. I'm sure it doesn't really matter when she shows up, they just polish her plasticene exterior, prop her up and hit the 'ON' button.
Actually, for what it cost to get you guys out here, we probably could have gotten some more cranes or heavy lifters. Think about that next time. We already have two zoos, you're just adding to a collection we've deemed complete. We don't need sound bites and sad eyes, hollow handshakes and empty promises.
There is more I would like to say, but I'm sure your basement level hoagieheads are already picking this up on their blippy screens. Pretty soon you're find 'evidence' that I am building and stockpiling 'WMDs'. Those aren't biological weapons! They're jars of jam!
Wait? What am I worried about? With the way you handle wars your guys would get in and my dogs would run circles around them. Of course I'd have to live with the dogs barking at your guys for five years or more, but it's worth it.
I think.
Between headaches and general staring off into space, I've been working on my State Fair entries. It's been a lot of work and there's nothing that says "SMART" like choosing to stand over a boiling pot of fruit, stirring frequently for 40 minutes or more on a day when it is 8 billion degrees out.
First up, I made a batch of cherry chutney. It's pretty good, but I'm just not feeling it with the chutney, I don't know. I don't think I flavored it very well. Oh well. I'd say it goes well with pork, turkey or spicy food.
I made a batch of cherry jam that turned into cherry jello or something. That shit SOLIDIFIED! No worries, I'm calling it a cherry 'pastry filling' and giving it away. It tastes really good, it's just too thick to be a jam. I drained too much juice off the cherries and so there ended up being too little fruit to pectin in the end. The gel ended up trapping millions of tiny bubbles in it. Definitely can't enter that in the competition.
Today I made another batch of cherry jam and I think that turned out better. Definitely softer, more spreadable. I will have to manipulate the jars to help with fruit distribution (part of what yu get judged on is appearance).
Next up, Def Strawberry Jam for the "not otherwise specified" jam category and my salsa verde.
Wednesday I was on a mission for litmus paper. You see, if a recipe has a pH of 4.6 or lower, then it is acidic enough to kill any botulism bacteria that might be hiding in there. The boiling, heating and sealing will take care of the other bacteria, as well as any airborne yeasts or molds that might get in there. If the pH is higher than 4.6 then it must be pressure canned so that the temperature gets high enough to assure the death of the botulism.
If you are following a tried and true recipe, you need not worry about these things, they've been tested. But, if you are like me, you chafe under the constraints of order and instruction. My salsa verde recipe rocks ass but I am not sure it is acidic enough to be safe to waterbath process and I really don't want to pressure can it because I don't have the new gasket for my canner yet. So, I decided to get some litmus paper and find out.
Where does one buy litmus paper? Good question! I called pharmacies, I called industrial art supply warehouses, I called Target, I called a garden shop, I called a pool shop, I called a bead shop for fuck's sake! Finally I found an elementary school supply store that was open! they had it (also, they had all of the other amazing things I wanted to buy).
The real sadness is the sheer number of people who were asked and did not know what litmus paper was for or what pH is. Dang.
Of course, I can't really talk. I was filling 8 ounce jars with a 1 cup measuring cup and tried to pour in a heaping cupful. mmmm spillage.
Thank you for the calls and messages. We are all fine, we did not know anyone who was on the bridge at the time.
We've not gone to see the site yet. I don't want to get in the way and in some ways it feels very disrespectful to stand and gawk at a place where people died, where the tragedy is still a bright scar.
In fact, I stayed home today with a terrible headache and with my lack of television news coverage, I feel very disconnected from it all. I'm okay with that. When I do catch the news on the radio, half of it is pointless conjecture from talking heads and the other half is constant repetition. I admit, however, to watching many of the videos online. This is my city. I was born here, I grew up here. It is my home and my home is damaged and hurting.
On the other hand, the response to the situation was amazing. As a city they were prepared. Search and rescue teams, ambulances, hospitals, it all went as well as it could. The real miracle, as Alex pointed out earlier, is that only 4 people have been found dead and the number of missing has been brought down to 8. This is a major freeway, a busy bridge, and the numbers were kept low.
This is not a comfort to the families that have lost loved ones.
Thank you for the concerned calls and emails. David and I and our local families are fine. No one that we know has been injured in the bridge accident.
This is a truly terrible accident.
I do not have the words for it right now.
"I think there's a hobo army"
-David