Squash Soup

This is a soup that I picked up from MsCountryW. from the tube. She called it "Invalid Squash Soup" because she had broken her collar bone (OUCH!) from breaking in a mustang up in Wisconsin (btw, I constantly miss Wisconsin now that I don't have access to it anymore, you know, from living on the east coast and all that). All ingredients get pureed later after it cools a bit.

Squash Soup:

• 2 lb butternut squash (save the seeds to dry fry in a pan, yummy! my favorite)
• 1 large onion, rough chopped
• 2 apples, peeled and rough chopped
• 6 cups chicken or vegetable stock
• 2 Tb rosemary (I had the dried stuff, going to plant some for fresh herbs in the apartment)
• Optional: 1/4 C milk, cream or half and half

Bring stock to a boil, add all the rest of the ingredients. Continue to boil for about 20 minutes or until all the ingredients are soft (they will still hold their shape, but you want it soft enough to puree it in a blender -extra side note if it's hot there will be a vortex suction in a blender so use caution!- and I use a hand held gadget for all my pureeing needs (still gives quite a kick for suction tho even with this gadget). 

Since my rosemary wasn't fresh, there were a lot of pieces that just didn't get pureed right, plus there are twigs from the branches in the dried stuff. I strained the soup and worked down the pulp through the mesh leaving a gourmet looking squash soup in the end. I didn't add the milk in the main pot but I just added a dab of milk to all our soup bowls before serving. Give it a swirl and it looks very attractive, kind of like the cappuccinos with the fancy swirls inside the cup.

Great way to use squash. I liked this very much.

Witches Shopping

Full moons, I hear, can bring on crazy and vivid dreams. I believe the moon was 93% full last night, so go figure. This morning we're under a wind advisory, which also started early in the morning around 1 a.m. Maybe all of this contributed to the ambiance of my 'wierd' dream.

This was no exception. I just have to write it down somewhere because I remember it clearly except that I never know how a dream begins, I just remember the middle and ending parts of it.

It was the old auditorium in my grammar school back in Chicago that was like a cafeteria in my dream. I had a ton of books in my hands and I was racing past this table where food was being 'brown bagged' for pennies on the dollar. Tacos for .24, huge kaiser bun roast beef sandwiches -my favorite!- for .49 (why I remember these numbers, I don't know but I do) and some sort of dessert that was just as cheap.  All the girls in my school piled up to form a line but somehow I veered in a circle around the table and supersceeded those who were in the line and others followed my direction (no cutzies! lol). As I made a full circle around to where I started, I noticed something out of place on the table. There before me is a box of lingerie. Not the real racey stuff, but the normal nightgown type of stuff.

Suddenly my hands were free and I picked up the first one that I saw. The lady behind the table asked me if I saw anything I liked and I told her they're all pretty but that I really liked the one I was holding. It was black lace and silk on the outside with the center that had some rainbow like metal shimmering stuff.

I said, "Oh, this is pretty," as I held it up by the black speghetti straps, "but I don't think I can afford it."

Suddenly, the dream shifts... like they normally do. Somehow the next thing I know, I'm standing in clothing store in a downtown city (pick a city, any city with lots of high rise buildings). The table morphed into a counter with the lady behind it.

"It's on sale." she said.

"Oh?" I said looking at it.

"Yes," she looked at the price tag reading my thoughts. I felt I couldn't afford it, it looked too expensive. "It's half off."

I still probably couldn't afford it.

"How much?" I just knew I wouldn't have the money to buy it.

"A penny."

What?

"Really, how much?" I paused.

She looked at me, straight in my face and said, "A penny."

Impossible but I wasn't going to argue.

"I don't think I can fit into it." I held it up to my waistline. I had played this game before. Something really pretty would never fit me.

"Why don't you go and try it on." she said. She pointed me to the changing rooms.

I half heartedly took the item knowing that I just wouldn't be able to fit into it. As I walked, I looked around me. There were women of all makes and descriptions. Large, small, tall, wide, narrow... and then the sense that every woman is beautiful came to mind. Each and every one of us, is unique. No matter what we look like, we are beautiful, no matter what we wear externally. You know, love thy self kind of thing.

Now why would I talk about all this? Wait, there's more.

So here I am, coming out of the dressing room with a gorgeous lingerie (not the one I came in with) and this pink/white frilly thing that just looked beautiful and it turned more into a summer dress than anything else. I noticed that the women in the store are dressed in a similar fashion.

This wouldn't have gotten my attention for dreams, but when I saw/heard something outside like a rally/protest it made me stop in my tracks.

"Oh, no." someone said from somewhere in the store, "Here we go again."

What was going on?

I went closer to the front entrance and there in a line was about 20 people with signs, yelling, "You're going to burn in hell!" and "Witches repent!" The faces of the people were really angry.  Within moments of the dream a barrier of a line formed with police in riot gear. A plastic looking wall went up on the outside to keep the people out of the store.

There were a few guys in shoppe, and as I was standing next to the door (in my frilly pink thing), he tried to break through the barrier when he got smashed and slapped and punched by those on the opposite side of the line. I pulled him back into the shoppe as he was bleeding from a bottle that was broken over his head.

What just happened to this lovely little shopping dream?

I got the impression that he thought I was trying to make my way out of the shoppe and tried to take the brunt of the onslaught for me. Chivalry in it's wierdest (but coolest) form.

I heard mumblings on what we were supposed to do. How were we supposed to leave?
In the back of my mind I just knew that there was a back exit out of the place that led downwards to a lower level  of shops and alleyway made just for that purpose. It was like the city had a lower shopping level. Kind of cool actually.

So I walked out the back way to check and see if it was safe. Sure enough, not one person was in sight. Everyone in the area was drawn to the attention at the front of the store.

As I walked down the brick walkway with closed gourmet shoppes on either side of me, around the corner I was taken off guard. Totally by surprise and scared out of my wits, a guy in full riot gear was before me. I almost turned to run when his hand reached out and grabbed hold of me. I began to scream when he lifted the visor (which I couldn't see into) of his helmet and he yelled:

"Hey! Hey! It's okay! It's okay!"
It was Mike Rowe.

OMG, he's been invading my dreams lately, I just can't seem to shake him.
Thought it gets wierd? Wait. There's more.

"I have to get you and the others out of here." he said. Man, that voice... that Mike Rowe voice. He was taking on the role of guardian, and I must say, he was lookin' good in that riot gear.

Okay, so as we're making our way back to the shoppe, this is were Warcraft seemed to kick in. I went back into the shoppe and women and men were beginning to arm themselves with whatever they could get their hands on. I came in with hands up, the sign of "peace, don't kill me" as I walked.

I said out loud (here's the wierd part and warcraft like PvP), "Don't kill him, he's my husband!"
Mike was right behind me, but it's so odd that he looked more like a blood elf at that moment than Mike Rowe. And not to mention that I kept saying over and over, "Don't kill him, he's my husband!"

Side note: Flashback to Hellfire Pennisula in Warcraft. One of us (Hubby and I) would switch to the other faction to cap PvP towers and, let's say, Hubby went Horde side, I'd be on the Alliance side yelling to everyone not to kill my Husband because we're switching out the towers so the faction could earn some PvP credit (using the system against the system). So, this had the same kind of feel to it, except, Mike was the stand in for Hubby in the dream.

Now there was a handful of men in the shoppe and they were ready to smash anyone's brains out because we seemed to be fighting for our lives at the moment. I actually had to get in between this guy and the morphed "Mike" because the dude was going to take a swing at him.

"He's here to help!" and that diffused the situation.

Mike then took charge of how he was going to get us out of here. I think he tested the front door (Front Door Theory #1) and in riot gear he took a beating. The mob in front who were protesting against "Witches"
were so blind with rage that they took swing after swing at him as he carreened through, and failed, against the barriers.

Back entrance it was. It was a stealth mission. If we all left at the same time, the mobs would catch on and find out that we were "escaping".

Mike pulled me aside, all serious, and said, "I'm getting you out of here first. I'm not going to take any chances."

Awww.....! That was epic. Just like the "Stay alive!" in the Last of the Mohicans with Daniel Day Lewis, "I will find you, just stay alive!" ... I should watch that movie again, btw.

I didn't argue. He ran with me down the back alleyway to safety. My dream left him in battle gear making his way back to the other "witches" who needed a rescue from the mad, mob mentality.

This was just one of those oddly charged dreams. I could read a lot into the dream, there's a few things in there that would be worth delving into. This would be a dream that I would wake up from, turn to Hubby (if he was still in bed because he leaves early in the morning to go to work), smack him and say, "Where the hell were you? I had to have a television guy save me!"

With so much to gleen from the dream, all I can say is...
Anyway, the dress looked pretty...

Tripping Down Memory Lane

Today as we shopped and did errands pertaining to the Thanksgiving holiday, I somehow (later on in the evening) started to reminisce about my 'old neighborhood', Chicago.  Even tho Christmas is a solid month away, I couldn't help but think back to the days when it was cold and bone chilling in Chicago, and dragging my family out into the weather to take a drive through one of the most well known areas in the neighborhood for Christmas decorations.

Edgebrook, Illinois, is for all intense purposes, a place where I dreamed of living. It was the upper middle class, and I always suspected doctors, lawyers and business people alike lived there. The houses were well do to, but not like the stately mansions and huge luxury homes of Evanston and the "Gold Coast" suburban area north of Chicago.  Edgebrook was a place that I drove past and through on my way to work when I was a supervisor at the bank in Lincolnwood.  Even when I was driving 20-25 min to get home (Mom and Dad carpooled everywhere, only had one family car and I was still in my late teens/early 20's and couldn't afford my own car... okay, that wasn't true. I was too cheap to buy a car) I would find that my drive home was something that held a certain exhausted charm to it.  Maybe it was the delusion of being run 8+ hours ragged for slave wages with a crazy amount of responsibility and got paid as much (or less) that a fry cook at McD's. Somehow the toiling made whole by the thoughts of maybe, one day, living in one of those homes I drove past and that what I was doing was going to get me there.

Silly girl.

A .10 cent raise back in the 90's must be equivalent to $1.00 raise to todays standards... Nah. The bank was just filthy rich and a bunch of greedy corporate [blankity blanks] who knew how to squeeze every ounce of energy out of you. And when you looked at that .10 raise, looked at them, it was pure astonishment to see them react as if it was such a hardhsip for them to give you that .10 raise - yes, it must be difficult for them to squeeze more than a dime out of their butt cheeks.

*coughs* Sorry, that rears up it's ugly head from time to time. Stellar performance from an employee= craptastic wages i.e. = more money for them, not for you.

Back to the 'good' part of reminscing.

Anyways, Edgebrook was the place to go for seeing the best of the best in Christmas decorations. I'm not kidding. It seemed like all of Chicago would go around the holiday and there were a good 3-4 blocks of people decking the halls with more than boughs of holly. As far as I understood it, people would rent out decorations from somewhere and they were on a waiting list for years. Things included animated santas, mrs. santa, elves, reindeer, life sized wise men and the manger with lifesized everything (from animals to baby Jesus). Lights everywhere, a three tier christmas tree (it was famous for one house always having it: first floor bay window = bottom of tree, second floor picture window= middle part of tree, rootop = tip of tree). This place was always jam packed with cars that crawled at less than 2 miles per hour. People walked in subzero temps to see everything. I had once brought a carafe of hot chocolate, found a radio station that played holiday music and gathered Mom and Dad in the car to go for a drive.

I've been searching Utube (hehe spelling) to see if I could actually find some video on the area because that's all I've been talking about with Hubby. I wish he could have seen it.

Then I googled a few places and found that one of the churches I drove past (for the 7 years I worked at the bank) had burned down to the ground this year due to arson. I had a "OMG" moment. How sad!

Then I google mapped the street and took a virtual drive down this roadway and was just floored at how things have changed (I haven't been back in Chicago in 8 years). I know Mom and Dad take a drive into the "old neighborhood" now and again and they rattle off things that have changed to me. My mind really doesn't seem to get it unless I see it so I say a lot of, "Mmmhmm" s.

Mostly it's a shock to the system to see how something that was ingrained in me seems so foreign right now. Today I'm all about the sustainability, wanting to raise my own chickens and garden in my dream home's backyard. The old me was very much a Frasier Crane kind of girl: books, working my tail off for crap wages even tho I looked business-like and professional, dreaming of of expensive cars and manicured houses. If the old me took a look at the new me, she'd pause and say, "You want to raise chickens... really?"

City vs Country.

Old vs New.

It's just funny how things progress, slow down, reconsider and change. It's just so wierd when I look at Chicago now through the eyes of what I am now. It feels foreign, unreal, as if it was just a dream. And it's completely different than the world I live in now. This seems more substantial, more meaningful than the Chicago-girl I once was. I guess I'd have to appreciate the old me to in turn appreciate the new me. Can't see where you're going unless you know where you've been, kind of thing.

Jehovah's Witnesses, a Messy Apartment and the Ghost Who Said Yeah

I've always said this, "If the place was cleaner I wouldn't mind having guests over."

[Thinks a minute].
Maybe that's why the place is never clean enough.

It's always a struggling battle in our smallish apartment. No space + lots of crap (ok, Hubby will say it is NOT crap [food, appliances taking up 3/4 of the kitchen, etc.] just that we haven't enough room) = me constantly trying to find ways to make it look neater and more spacious.  Sure, I have my moment where I want to throw everything in the garbage and say, "No more stuff," but that would be unrealistic. We get the very welcomed bag of clothes from relatives for Kiddo who is growing my leaps and bounds. One pair of shoes this week is next weeks outgrown growth spurt.

I envy those who can plan parties and get togethers in their homes. I mean, I remember as a kid having get togethers at our house and family houses across the land, and I always wished rather than put into fruition of having a family get together at where we live. I keep banking on the thought of, "Once we have a house, then we'll entertain."

Right now it feels like all the stuff we have is like college dorm room stuff. Computers take up 1/4 of our living room, the coffee table and couch another 1/2. So, doing the math, there isn't that much room to walk or meander around. You can't spread your arms out and do "The Hills Are Alive" with the Sound of Music spin without bumping into something bulky like a t.v. or computer chair.  I don't think any of this would work in a dorm room but it all has that look of, "Not in a house" kind of furniture. The couch, I've often said, will have to be replaced but I'm still waiting for that expansion of After the Wrath of Kiddo to make it work.

Ok. 12:07 pm. Kiddo was playing Goofy Skateboarding on his computer and put it on pause to have some lunch. I was typing away describing the couch thing, when all of a sudden, clear as can be, we (Kiddo and myself) hear from his speakers -which is playing the music from the game over and over- I hear ,"Yeeeeeah."

. . . . . . . .

A male voice, crystal clear, as if he was piped into the game and saying "Yeah". No feedback, no static, just as if someone had a microphone and just said it. Not that this really freaked me out... much. We're used to static feedback like a power surge, but this was completely different. This was the first time I had ever heard any 'voice' comeing through at any given time. This would have been perfect for Halloween, but that time is over, for the time being. 

I'm taking this with a grain of salt. I find it kind of funny tho, about an hour and a half ago Jehovah's Witnesses came knocking on my door.  Religious moment triggering something paranormal? That WOULD be funny. Hey Ghostie, I didn't invite them, m'kay?  Luckily (I say this as I roll my eyes) Kiddo raced to the door, tripped, fell, hit his hand on the floor and started crying (not a lot, it was just a small face plant but it was enough for me to tell the J.W.'s that I couldn't come to the door now).  Thanks Kid, I owe you a car for that one (but I don't want you hurting yourself just because Mom doesn't want to answer the door).

I don't like the idea of talking to someone in my messy apartment, while I'm standing in my p.j.'s, talking about God. Or, rather, someone else's take on God and how they're going door to door to 'spread the word'.

I've always like to ponder God, religions and such in the privacy of my own home and in the privacy in my own mind (or blog, but whatever lol). I guess if I was dressed, had the place all cleaned and sparkly, with a kitchen table that doesn't have a pile of crap everywhere, and chairs that you can actually sit on (more boxes of stuff), maybe, just maybe, if I had coffee brewed and some coffee cake made (anything coffee is a good bribe for me in my book), I would sort-of-maybe-be-inclined to let them in and sit down for a pleasant chat like the good old days. Not to mention I don't like the idea of strangers coming into the place when I'm all alone (not counting Kiddo). But, instead of the good ol' days chat with a neighbor or relative, this would be someone who was selling God to a 'sinner' or whatever they call someone who isn't interested in the brand of God they're selling like a door to door vacuum salesman. Maybe that last part wasn't necessary because I do hear that J.W.'s are very pleasant to chat with. No fire and brimstone "You're going to HELL! REPENT!" junk.

Again, maybe if we had a house, and it was clean...
[Thinks again.]
Maybe not.

I guess Mr. Ghost in our apartment wasn't interested in it either. "Yeeeeah."
*shivers*
Perhaps it was his delayed reaction to the whole situation.

The War On Lactose Has Failed

Today was a epic fail on the waged war on lactose. I went grocery shopping at our local IGA store and I found that the evil doers had marked down ice cream to only $1.99 for a pint Gifford's (never tried it so that was an instant lose because I was excited) and the same went for half gallon of Turkey Hill Ice Cream.  So, I failed, but then again, I sort of won in a way. Later, I will fail again when my stomach and other parts of me will revolt against the insufferable lactose. My G.I. track is going to not like me in the next few hours to come.

The arsonal used against me:
Gifford's Maine Moose Tracks : vanilla ice cream with fudge swirls, candy cups filled with caramel. Not sure if I like it or not. The candy cups are obscenely colored neon orange... that can't be good.
Turkey Hill : Choco Mint.... anything with mint and I'm done for. This is especially true for Ben and Jerry's Mint Cookie Ice Cream... omg, if I died and went to heaven that would have to be on the menu (anyone seen Defending Your Life with Merryl Streep and the guy who did the voice for Nemo's Dad in Finding Nemo? SUCH a good movie, one day I'm going to buy it on ebay).
Turkey Hill : Bavarian Espresso... two words in the English language that send delicious shivers up my spine. Haven't tried this, so I'm hoping to bide my time on the gut busting bomb I'm preping for with all this lactose.

And all this was dessert.

Appetizer:
Cheese, cheese and more cheese... on sale.
Munster (my favorite), Sharp Chedar (oh, that's a favorite too) and Colby Jack Cheese (um, did I say I already picked a favorite? Can three cheeses be the winner?) Anyway, these were on sale 3/$5. Naturally I had to get the trinity. My gut is soooo going to protest the first cheese I open. I almost got the sour cream that was on sale for .99 too.

Oh, and picked up a bag of cheese and spinich ravioli for $2.99 that is going to be the fam's dinner.

Cheese
Lactose


This isn't going to be pretty.

Time to Stop Farting Around

Ok, so I'll be the first to admit it. I've been slacking in the writing articles department. I haven't written religiously since, I guess, a week ago. I slacked. I got distracted, I got caught caught up with the NaNoWriMo thing and sadly that won't earn any extra money in the household.

Found out today that the "good" car, the family car, the only safe drivable car (which has been in the shop for over a week now) needs two front struts replaced. Cha-ching: $240.  I guess that's cheap compared to some places, but that's not including labor either. Did I mention we also needed a pair of front tires also? Yikes. Luckily we have Grandma/pa's help in the vehicle department. We can occasionally borrow one of their vehicles.

So, this is where my point comes up: Living expenses? This falls under my category of: OH CRAP, "I sure hope you saved up for this kind of catastrophe" type of thing. I knew this kind of thing was coming, but when you actually see the bottom line it's like I've suddenly gotten a bit numb over the whole thing. I consider what I write at home "suplemental" income, it's not even worth mentioning, but at this point, I might as well pretend I'm doing good by writing that 150 word article for .74 cents (at least it only took 5-8 minutes to write). 

When things calm down financially, I still would like to get my little novelette self-published. Maybe then I can get this pipe dream of being an author rolling.  Sure, it may stall and putter as it goes, but at least I can say I made an attempt before I call out my defeatist mentality.

It sure would be good right about now to be living on a plot of land and have our own home. I always wanted to live closer to the homesteading kind of way, and for some reason that's kind of a comfort right now. Being productive in an apartment, in my mind, seems confusing for being self reliant. Ramble, ramble, ramble, stall, stall, stall.

Well, I can think on the positive side, we're still free from debt, Hubby and I. Treading water every month and always looking for ways to save a penny here and there. You'd think by now our frugal ways would actually account for something other than knowing we don't have a credit card bill looming over us that will help us go belly up. Then again, maybe our frugal ways were just enough and just what we needed to survive (with one paycheck and all). Can't complain, but can't help to hope and aspire for better situations in life.

Well, enough of me rambling, I got about 40 minutes before life sets in and I have to do some errands out in the real world. Then, when back home it's time to get back to the grindstone again.

OMG SNOW!

Snow!
That was a bit of a shocker waking up to a scattered layer of white stuff. There was lots of rain and by afternoon most of the snow had melted away with the dampness.

I'm not ready for snow, I'm still getting used to the idea of temperatures falling into the 40's and below. Frozen tundra I'm not quite acclimated yet.

Today was a mish-mash of doings, from cooking to writing. I've been thoroughly hooked to listening to online radio. It is just way more informative than regular stations (then again, I don't really put on the radio while I'm at home, and the same goes for when we drive in the car). But I have to say, Heritage Radio Network has a lot of shows that I'm highly interested in. It's great when multitasking and cooking, as I was today. They have a lot of archived shows that are prefect when you are walking around doing stuff and want to listen to something (helps if you have wireless headphones, I know I drain my batteries on it because that's all I tend to do).  It's a gateway radio show, I want to listen to other stations with the same ilk. 

Have a great gut bustin' dairy laden chicken pot pie recipe, lazy style. This is day #3 for using the rotisserie chicken that was bought on friday. Did a bit of stretching, but you'd never know it with a full tummy:

Friday was eating the chicken straight up, with a lot of mixed veggies on the side and squash.
Saturday was chicken pot pie with sides of squash (leftover from the previous day).
Sunday was din-din at Grandma's - where sheppard's pie was being served, there must have been that kind of cooking style in the air - and ...
Monday was chicken pot pie again with more squash.
A pretty darn good use out of a 'marked down' chicken, already cooked, from the store. There still is some meat leftover on the bones and I think I'll keep them in the freezer so that way I can make some homemade chicken stock when I collect enough bones (doesn't that sound just diabolical? "When I collect enough bones"? I'll just a Muhahahaha just for effect...)

Chicken Pot Pie, Lazy Style:

• rotisserie chicken, about half a breast, chopped into cubes
• milk
• flour
• chicken boullion (msg free and in powder form)
• butter
• olive oil
• garlic powder to taste
• 1/2 can -3/4 can of the follwing : carrots, green beans, potatoes (I was looking for something to use the canned potatoes in because they're not a favorite, but it worked really nice in this) or any other combination of veggies you like in a chicken pot pie
• instant potato flakes if you need to thicken the sauce because of too much milk (neat little trick, thanks to kiddo's suggestion)

In a saucepan melt a pat of butter (I know, real technical, eh?) and a smidge of olive oil. When the butter starts to bubble a bit, add a tablespoon of flour to the mix to make a roux. Add more or less to thicken and continue to cook until the roux browns a bit. Take off the heat to cool slightly. In the mean time, take 1 1/3 C of milk and microwave in a bowl for about 45 seconds to take the chill out. With a whisk, return to the saucepan with the roux, which should still be relatively hot even tho it is off the heat. Trickle the heated milk into the roux, stirring briskly all the time with a wire whisk. Go slowly or the milk could separate making it a clumpy mess.

Once all the milk is all combined with the roux, it should thicken nicely.  Bring back to the burner and cook on medium heat. Add some chicken boullion to flavor and adjust to taste. If the sauce is really liquidy, add some instant potato flakes but don't over do it or you'll be making mash potatoes instead.

Add cubed chicken, drained veggies, and garlic powder. Heat through. Serve as is or on top of sliced bread or mashed potatoes. (Autumn olive ketchup really goes perfect on top of this dish).

Determination

I had high hopes on going out today. Fate of the universe conspired against me tho. I know it's a losing battle when it takes 2 1/2 hours for me, hubby and kiddo to get out the door. At one point, after a lot of farting around, I just called it. 

I guess when I'm upset I tend to clean. There was a sink full of dishes, crap all over the stove from hubby making a really good breakfast (a pile of egg shells here, crumbs there). Piles of plates from god only knows from where. Dishes tend to get hidden from me now and again, and when it's time to wash them they're always caked, dirty and screaming to be scrubbed. Suffice to say, I had my work cut out for me.  I dove into my work and cleaned... and mumbled.

My mumbling trickled over from yesterday and the little tiff hubby and I had. Well, hubby rather put his foot in his mouth quite nicely, causing a casual conversation to turn into something ridiculously irritating and blown out of proportion.  No sooner do I go upstairs to find some zen because frankly at that moment, I really couldn't stand to be in the same room with him, hubby instantly knew how incredibly insensitive and a jerk he was.  You know, the typical faire of "omg, I can't believe I was so horrible to you for no reason," kind of moment.  As I like to tell him, he doesn't go into his jerk mode half assed. He goes in with both cheeks exposed.

Mind you we don't have these tiffs very often. Maybe every other month, I don't really keep count, so I can't remember the last time he slid into the muck of being a jerk. And why is it (I mulled it over when I had a feminist moment of clarity) that when a man is acting like the biggest jerk in the world he's just having a bad day, but when a woman has a moment she's branded as a *itch forever? Well, that's just how I see things anyway.

Later I would tell him, "Be proud that when you put that last nail in your coffin you not only use a nail but you use glue, screws, and weld it shut." In other words, he's quite thorough. Let's just say, the couch was his bed that night. And I finished the novel by Wilkie Collins, "Lady in White." Excellent read, but just a bit lengthy at 600+ pages (mind you I didn't read this all in one night, I had about 100 pages left before any of this transpired).

So, oddly, I'm more productive when we have arguments. (shrugs). The next morning, the air was cleared (as it tends to normally do). With a round of welcomed hugs we moved on.  I tend to make jokes out of everything, so this was no exception.

Today I had the hope of getting out for the day and going to the NaNoWriMo get together with Uncle D and "Auntie" K, but then for the next 2 1/2 hours we played tag on getting dressed, fussying (kiddo), standing around waiting, fussying (kiddo), packing up laptop and stuff, fussying (kiddo)... 3 o'clock rolls around and I see that everyone is ready to go when all things just STOPPED.  Kiddo, I was seeing the warning signs, was not in the going out kind of mood. If he was sick I'd be all over the "Sorry, I can't go my youngin' is ill," but there wasn't any sign of him being sick other than being fussy. Constipated? That could have been it, but when I went to do dishes because at that point I knew the day was shot, I came back to find kiddo asleep in daddy's arms. So, chalk crankiness up to being in need of a nap time.

I took one deep breath, put on my shoes, gritted my teeth and went to the library across the street. Luckily they were open and I was able to crank out a few thousand words in the peace and quiet of the place. I was determined to get something done.

Seriously, 2 1/2 hours of trying to get out the freaking door? This weekend was starting to drive me nuts. To top it all off, electronics were whigging out on me. Blue screens of death on my main computer, a error dedicated to my RAM (oh honey aka hubby, I believe this is your department. HEP!), laptop losing writen data because (I can only assume) I touched a bunch of keys and some secret combination is the code for wiping out what I just wrote.  [enter insane laughter here].  Then, only to find the missing writen content when I use the undo button (for crying out loud, what was the key I pressed that actually made it all disappear? That's what I'd like to know so I don't have another heart attack again).

Friday... bad day, couldn't have been forseen.
Saturday... bad day, but salvagable.
Sunday... oh please, let it be better than the previous 2 days.

.
.
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Sunday... woke up to neighbors arguing at 5.30 in the morning. I think I need to find some sort of cleansing spell to ward our apartment to protect us from the aura of arguments because lately next door has been arguing a lot, slamming doors, and Hubby and I look at each other and say, "I love you!" emphatically.  Friday was our turn (except no slamming of doors and our argument was a simmer, not a cataclysm). Tag teaming apartment arguments? No thank you.  I like a peaceful, lovable, laughable bode of residence, tyvm. Kiddo, you hear that? Mommy likes peaceful places. Computers baaad. Real life is better. Repeat after me... real life is bet-ter. Failing at a lvl 1 video game isn't the end of the world, little one. Come on, let's go outside instead. That goes for you too Hubby. And I promise I'll take my own advice as well.

Is Mercury in Retrograde?

Since yesterday anything electronic has just fizzled out on me. Case and point: yesterday, while in mid-sentence for something I was writting about online, we have a power outage. The whole apartment complex and block blew a fuse. I should have known better and  backed it up every five seconds, if I only knew!  Then today, in the blink of an eye I had to do an emergency shutdown on my main computer. Let's just say I had to relocate for a bit for the rest of the night. And just now, as I'm typing part of an article, the battery goes dead on the laptop. Grrr. At least I learned from yesterday and backed up my work every minute so when it died on me I actually didn't lose that much information. Huzzah for small miracles, eh?

I keep thinking back to the time  before computers and I think that pen and paper, although tedious, is a great medium for writing. Remember when we had journals that we wrote in instead of blogs?  It seemed more monotonous, but at least we can actually SEE  our own written word.  I do have to admit, since using computers more than writing in my journal I sadly have lost a lot of my penmenship. I just look at what I write, and unless I'm actually taking the time to make it look halfway decent, I just scribble. But I have to tell you, the more that electronics fizzle out on me, the more I keep eyeballing my journal and think to myself, "If the power goes out I won't at least lose you, Mr. Journal." Ok, just so you know I haven't actually named my jounal. But Mr. Journal would make a lovely couple with Ms. Pen. Or should it be the other way around? Ms Journal and Mr Pen? I'm working on little sleep at the moment (what else is new) and I feel like my brain is fried.

Mmm.brains.

There goes the zombie talk at 12:45 a.m. Either that or I'm having an Andrew Zimmern flashback/moment.

Oh crap. Mercury in retrograde again!  I think I broke a key on my keyboard. Grrrrreat. Luckily it wasn't a cruitial one. I tell ya.

BTW, go NaNoWriMo! woohoo, got about 11K into it.

Autumn Olive Ketchup #2 aka spiced cranberry ketchup

Thanks to Uncle D. and "Auntie" K., I just made the second autumn olive ketchup. It's made just a wee bit differently from the first recipe I posted, but it tastes just as yummy.
This afternoon I made a ham sandwich and topped it with the autumn olive ketchup and it was simply delish. I told Hubby about it and when he came home he tried it as well.

He thought it was good too, but sadly he used the beautifully homemade bread that I made the other day but I forgot to add the salt! OMG! That ONE ingredient and the best looking breads I've made to date tastes like bland tofu! I was so sad because I tried a 50/50 mix of white flour and wheat flour and it was gorgeous. After one taste I had to think, in the hubbub of the day, and running back and forth and my mind not focused, I can only blame myself for the slip up.  Going to try and remedy it by using the "bland" bread as a layering agent for 'poor man's lasagna' (an Italian recipe from PBS). I just hope that after toasting in a frying pan with olive oil, garlic and SALT! (gah! I still can't believe I did that about the bread) I can infuse the bread and layer it with some tomato sauce, meat and cheese and bake it.

Here is the recipe coutresy of http://www.tasteofhome.com/Recipes/Spiced-Cranberry-Ketchup

Spiced Cranberry Ketchup Recipe (a.k.a. autumn olive ketchup #2):

• 2 1/4 fresh or frozen cranberries
• 1/2 C water
• 1/4 C chopped green onions (I used onion powder, I'm lazy)
• 2 bay leaves
• 3/4 plus 2T sugar
• 1/4 C white wine vinegar (I only  had regular white vinegar, and I used 1/2 the amount)
• 1/4 C balsamic vinegar (I only used 1/2 the amount)
• 1 1/2 tsp dijon mustard (only had regular)
• 1/2 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1/4 tsp salt
• 1/4 tsp ground allspice
• 1/4 tsp ground cloves
• 1/8 tsp ground cumin

In a saucepan: cranberries, water, onions and bay leaves. Cook for 15 min or until berries pop. (Since I was using autumn olive juices and pulp, I didn't have to wait for anything to pop, so I just cooked it for about 10 minutes). Cool slightly.

Disgard bay leaves. Strain mixture (I already had done this when I was preparing the autumn olives a while back, plus I was using onion powder so there is nothing to strain at this point). Return to the pan.

Sitr in rest of ingredients. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat and simmer for 8-10 minutes or until thickened. (I used the spoon test: put some on a spoon and let it cool. If it's thickened after cooling, you have the consistency you want).Cool and refrigerate.

Side note: I hear that you have to "mature" the ketchup in the fridge for at least a week. This mellows out the vinegar and rounds off the flavor. So far this holds true because the first batch I made weeks ago seems to have gone to a very nice ketchupy tasting phase. Yummy. Also, if the ketchup turns out to be a bit too liquidy, I don't mind using it in other meals that are cooked to give it an unique flavor, especially stews (which I hope to make soon).

Peach Salsa

I love Newman's Own: Peach Salsa. I kept the label because I wanted to know if I could eyeball the ingredients, give a guesstimate on how much to use, and try it out in batches.

I'm working on little sleep at the moment, and it's almost 3 a.m. so I hope what I write actually makes sense.  I'm going to have to try this salsa again because my rule of thumb is when I can't stop myself from nomming on something home cooked, I know it's good.  I was nomming as I was taste testing each small batch that I made, so I hope my measurements are more sound.

Peach Salsa:

• 1 (14.5 oz) can of whole tomatoes, drained. Chopped and drained again (keep liquid in a separate bowl just in case you need to use a bit of it)
• 1/2 can (of a 15 oz can) of peaches, drained and chopped
• 9 slices of pickled (? ... it was in a jar) jalapenos or more/less to taste
• 1 1/8 tsp white sugar
• 3/4 tsp brown sugar
• 2 1/4 tsp lemon juice
• 1 1/2 tsp vinegar
• 3/4 tsp garlic powder
• 3/4 tsp salt
• 1/8 tsp of ground allspice

Drain and chop tomatoes, peaches and jalapenos and place in a bowl. 

In a separate bowl mix white and brown sugar, lemon juice, vinegar, garlic powder, salt and allspice. Combine until sugars are dissolved.

Pour sugar liquid over the tomatoes/peaches/jalapenos, mix and let it sit for 20 minutes for flavors to meld (it can either be left at room temperature or refrigerated). Serve with chips or as a chutney over meats. Refrigerate any leftovers.

I really had to refrain from eating all of this. Hubby wasn't wowed by this one, but I was. I think it was due to the fact that peach salsa is my ultimate favorite kind of salsa and he steers more toward the 'strictly tomato' kind of salsa. Meh, more for me then!
(Sorry Kiddo, this is too spicey for your little pallet, I promise to make a less spicey version for you!)

Anchovie Paste, I Now Have a Reason

Found this recipe online from another blogger, but yet it really doesn't have a lot of true blue measurements going on. Still, this is a kick butt recipe in itself and I think from now on I'm not going to make green bean no other way.  When you see the ingredients, don't get all freaked out, unless your a vegan, etc.

Green Beans With Anchovies and Garlic

• Fresh green beans blanched in water or one drained can of green beans ready to go
• olive oil
• 3 Tb or more of anchovie paste or 3-4 anchovie fillets (use more to taste)
• minced garlic (adjust to taste)

In a frying pan heat up the olive oil. Stir in garlic and anchovie paste until slightly cooked (anchovie paste or fillets will dissolve into the oil). Add green greans (we used the french cut ones) and cook until heated through. Serve immediately.

Hubby loved this one, and I was amazed how good it tasted. You couldn't even tell that there was that salty fishy anchovie in there, so that's what I was looking for. Anchovies used as a seasoning. Booyah.

T-Shirt

Thanks to watching Dirty Jobs on the Travel Channel the other day, I've been currently ripping off Mike Rowe's line of "T-shirt" again and again.

I flipped on the t.v. and found the show already in progress (it was 3/4 of the way done). The first image I saw was Mike hunched over a dead, headless bird of some sort and his hands were bloody from getting into the cavity to clean it. A grandmother figure was standing next to him telling him how to clean the bird, etc.

Mike was at some sort of ranch where they took a goose, cleaned it and sold it.  They took the excess feathers and later on used them as pillow stuffing for, you guessed it, pillows.  Well, during the show he kept saying the word "T-shirt" over and over when the lady spoke.

Lady: "Sometimes you have to bang it to get it in there."
Mike: "T-shirt."

Lady: "You gotta wiggle your fingers."
Mike: "T-shirt."

Lady: "It takes a gentle touch."
Mike: "T-shirt."

Lady: "Careful, it gets slippery when wet."
[you guessed it. Mike turns to the camera and lip syncs...]
Mike: "T-shirt."

So, ever since watching that episode I've been driving people nuts with saying one word, "T-shirt."  Just the other day I was in a raid group and someone said something that could have been taken dirty. I just did what I normally do, and I typed the word, "T-shirt." People were not quite sure what I was talking about, but I had to explain it with each... new... group... that I joined. Yes, I found a way to say that word over and over during the night.

My guildmate, who we've known for over a year now, just sighed over voice chat and said something along the lines of, "Are you done now?" You know what I said to him?

"T-shirt."

Yawn

The last few nights I've been finding it hard to fall asleep, but once I do I'm zonked. It's the perfect weather outside at... 3:36 a.m. Damp, surprisingly warm at 67 degrees, and you can hear the tree leaves going brittle as the wind brushes through them. Perfect weather for reading. And sleeping. And I'm doing neither.

The crick in my neck is back. I think it got aggrevated by stress and doing a few things I shouldn't have for my range of motion. Who knew that lifting a 10 lb. countertop broiler oven would throw me out of whack. And lifting Kiddo. He's going through a growth spurt and isn't a lightweight. The last time we weighed him he was somewhere in the range of 40 pounds, and that was a while ago. I'm sure he's got to be close to 50.

Tomorrow is going to be a big day. Lots to do, places to go.  Possibly getting the family car towed to the garage for fixing... $ $ $. When November hits, I'm hoping we tread gently to keep the expenditures down. As with anything, we'll see.

I've been searching around for a peach and tomato salsa online. I've had Newman's Peach Salsa only once or twice and I have to say it is just yummy. I hope to find just the right amount of seasonings to get it tasting right. Looks like I have all the ingredients needed to play around with, I just have to remember to jot down what I used and how much for the future (if it's any good).

Starting to daze now. I was going to write a bit, but I think sleep deprevation is starting to slowly catch up with me. Oh darn, I forgot to give the cat his meds. That's a priority. Time to do it before I forget.

And as a reminder to myself for the next blog, here's a hint: T-shirt. I'm driving everyone nuts with saying it.

Autumn Olive Ketchup 1st Attempt

I've been wanting to do this for a while now, and I agonized over which recipe to use in lieu of cranberries for the use of autumn olives for the ketchup.

I think I may have nailed it.

Autumn Olive Ketchup:

• 2 1/2 C Autumn Olive juice and pulp (after cleaning and food milling it to separate the seeds)
• 1 tsp onion powder (or more depending on the taste and balance of the fruit)
• less than 1/3 C distilled white vinegar (use less if it tastes super vinegary)
• 1 C brown sugar (not packed)
• 1 tsp ground cinnamon
• 1 tsp dried red pepper flakes
• 1 tsp ground ginger
• 1/2 tsp salt (or to taste)
• black pepper (to taste)

Add all ingredients into a non-reactive saucepan or pot. Bring to a boil then lower to a simmer and cook for at least 20 minutues. Adjust seasonings so that it tastes nice and ketchupy. I had to cook a wee bit longer to have the mixture thicken a bit. To test, take a bit on a metal spoon and let it cool. If it moves like ketchup you're done. Store in sterilized glass jar or bottle (I like glass as opposed to plastic, yes, I'm a glass kind of gal).

I hear that ketchup needs a little rest time in the fridge to mature a bit so that the vinegar isn't as potent. Anyways, that's what I gleaned from videos on the subject. Still, it tastes similar to ketchup but way better and deliciously yummy too!

Tortillas, Tortillas, Oh How I Lub Thee

Makin' homemade torillas from now on, they are just way too easy to buy from the store anymore. And cheaper and tastier too.

 

Homemade Tortillas

• 2 C all purpose flour
• 1 tsp salt
• 1 tsp baking powder
• 1 Tb shortening (I used 1 Tb butter instead)
• 1/2 C and 2 Tb of (hot) water

 

 

To make dough: Add aprx. 2 Tb of water at a time to the dry ingredients. It will start out with consistency of cornmeal and gradually add water until it forms a dough that isn't too wet. Divide into 12 sections (or less if you want large tortillas) and form into balls. Let them rest for about 20 min. with a wet towel to cover them. After, roll out into 7 inches diameter and cook in an ungreased skillet (cast iron works really well) over med. heat. Flip when you see a little brown'age, it will cook really fast. The longer it stays on the heat the crispier they will become, so for tender tortillas, it will be about a minute of cooking time. 

 

That's it. Super easy. I'm amazed how quick they were to make and it's really not that much of a fuss once you have all the ingredients. Best compliment was when Mr. Taste-Testing Hubby tried one, munched, munched some more and said, "these are restaurant quality." I'm so glad he approved lol. Even Kiddo gave it his seal of approval, "Mommy, more tacos please."

 

Music to my ears.

Seasons of Change

This is one of those days where my mind is racing and I'm juxtaposed in what to do. It is gray, rainy and dismal outside. Chilly too. It's the kind of weather where you just really don't want to go out and do anything.

Writing seems to be simmering at the top of my to-do list but as I just found out from Hubby this afternoon that our family car has had, what I would call, a catastrophic failure. The strut broke. This means that there is to be NO driving of the car and most likely we're going to have to have the car towed to the mechanic. Struts, as far as I know, is a pricey fix for a car.  So, let's add up the financial tourniquet: cat health/medical stuff, I'm still backpeddling to catch up to make it wipe off our balance sheets as if it doesn't exist (almost there btw), car... guessing at this point $250 plus for the struts. We also need new front tires since they're balding (another $250 guessing for the pair).
I still have put off getting a filling for one of my back teeth replaced.  I can't deal with having a mercury alloy in my teeth so saving up for a composite will run about another $200.

Notice a trend? Two hundred here, two hundred there. We've put off a few things trying to have one major catastrophe per month. Life, unfortunately, doesn't want to follow that game plan. Add Kiddo's need for attention and you're crimping my effeciency by half...

Sidetracked by vacuuming pulverized mini wheats from the carpet, thanks Kiddo. And doing dishes. And laundry. Case and point.

Since watching Native American One online, I've been craving a lifestyle more attuned to living off the land. It's a pipe dream up until now, since we really don't have access to growing our own foods yet. One step at a time, eh?

I better start seriously cranking out some articles to help pad the mass chaos that will be incoming in the next few weeks. And Kiddo... sit and pee on the freaking potty will ya? For crying out loud that's a good $100 a month on diapers. It's time dude! Be a man, do the right thing! (the last was a quote from favorite comedian Russel Peters, that man is hilarious). Alas, the only one who can get him to even SIT on the toilet is Daddy. I'll keep on trying tho. Maybe it's a guy thing.

Anyways, I shouldn't complain too much. Life is good, and I am happy. Hubby and I have proven to ourselves time and time again that we don't need a lot to be happy in this world, and honestly you can't put a pricetag on the people and friends that make up a good sphere of existence.

And just like that the sun is shining bright against a gray and cloudy sky. It really makes the golden leaves on the trees glow.

Three Blind Mice

Okay, maybe it isn't three blind mice but we definitely have a mouse in the attic. The little bugger has been chewing and gnawing on the wood from inside the walls and window frame every night now for the last three or four days.

We've been living in this apartment ever since Kiddo was born and my biggest concern were bugs and mice.  I wanted neither. The other apartment we lived in  (across the street and the same one that was set on fire 2x by would be arsons) had a mouse but we never saw it. It was contained in the neighbor's apartment on the side of us. Sucker gnawed straight through to the other side of her kitchen cabinets, or so she had told me.

When we were looking at our current apartment, I thought I saw turds in the back of a pantry closet and even pointed them out to Hubby. He's lived in the country pretty much all of his life so having a mouse about was really no big deal. Not to this city girl wanna be country chick.  I didn't see any other signs of mice anywhere, no gnawed holes or the like, plus we really needed more space because Kiddo at the time was to be born within that month and our old apartment wouldn't cut it.

I've lived in houses that were mouse free but had a "thousand legger" issue back in Chicago (*shivers* summertime was the worst season, a/c would be on and all the bugs would go to higher ground for warmth and these things were the size of your finger crawling on the floor, walls and ceiling. A day didn't go by without sighting one. Dad never considered an exterminator. *shivers again*) and zero pests while living in Algonquin. So living in an apartment that is bug free (yay) and mouse free (grrr, one out of two isn't bad but still), is priority. 

Luck is still on our side tho. I haven't seen this before said mouse scampering about in our living areas, and our cat - tho an indoor cat - still is sharp as a tac to find pests. This mouse (I hope it isn't a rat, but like that really makes a difference at this point) is gnawing like it is it's Shawshank Redemption or something. At 4 a.m. it's driving me nuts and I get out of bed, bang on the wall, it stops. One and 1/2 minutes later it starts up again. Hubby sleeps right throught the noise. Figures, he snores like a freight train why would he hear that demon mouse chomping in the walls.

If this thing does happen to make an appearance or I see rat turd anywhere, that's it. We're moving. We've been wanting to move for the longest time. I keep saying I want to get out of here before the place emplodes (with the sinking floors, I give it a few years before that happens).

I would miss having a library, a post office, town restaurant and little grocery store within walking distance, but le sigh. Take the punches as they roll, for good or bad.

Backtrack to Two Days Before

Sunday was a great day where the sun was shining, blue skies, crisp fall/autumn air and autumn olive picking.  The season is sadly coming to a close, so Uncle D. called up and asked if I was up to picking some autumn olives. You betcha!

Ok, so I had like maybe 4 hours of sleep. I did head to bed really late (blaming Warcraft at this point) and I really had to summon some energy to get out of bed. I think I did mention to Hubs that I went to bed late so it would be nice to be gentle on me and let me sleep in. When I heard about the autumn olive hunting, I thought skew sleep, times to go a'pickin'!

I did have an alterior motive too. I really wanted Kiddo and Hubby to come with me. There is this great nature trail that has a sea of autumn olive trees and I always wanted the little one to get out more and appreciate nature.  And I'm glad after a few minutes of /poking Hubby saying, "Come on, come with," over and over he finally grunted like Tim Allen and acquiesed.

Kiddo was the deciding factor. When I asked him if he wanted to go and see Uncle D., Kiddo ran to his computer (of course it was on) and shut it off. I think he said, "I need my shoes!" and ran to go get them.

I looked at Hubby and said, "See, he wants to go. Come on, come with."

It was good that we all went. It was a regular Autumn Olive party with Uncle D. who had about four friends joining and Auntie M. who was amongst the group. Add Kiddo and Hubby and that made...(counting)...nine people.  Hubby was on Kiddo detail, had a soccer ball to play around with, but I think Kiddo enjoyed picking the berries with Auntie M. and Uncle D. even more. Yay!

Kiddo was adorable. He kept saying, "I found berries!" I think he was calling them "Annie" instead of Autumn Olives. "I found more Annies!" It was cute :)

We were there a good few hours, the time really flew by. Knowing that Kiddo was with the group, I was able to pick and pick and pick some really nice and sweet berries.  I still want more, you can never get enough of these things (they are uber healthy and grow in abundance).

I'm finding that there are a number of ways to use the berries, and mostly jams (which the season's first batch I made a small amount with tastes like apples), ketchups and relishes.  I found a fermented relish recipe that I think will work well but I need a few more ingredients.  I'm hoping to make some autumn olive ketchup but I'm finding a few recipes that I'm not sure about.  I guess I can always experiement and hope that it turns out well (I'm just hoping to get a tried and true recipe so I don't waste the fruit).

But it was a blast. I loved seeing the family and it was awesome to be picking with everyone. I kind of stuck to the sidelines because I was in the "berry zone" but I loved hearing Kiddo chatting with everyone. It was really lovely.

Needs more Autumn Olives (and a house to put them in, lol).

Under the Weather

Well, I think I am falling apart. Yesterday (Saturday) I was feeling pretty well up until the evening rolled around. Suffice to say, my list of complaints run as thus: pain under where my right ribcage is, and a pain in my lower right side close to the bottom of my hip.  Days ago I sneezed and ever since then I've been babysitting these strange pains wondering if A) I popped something out of whack with a moderate sneeze or B) I'm just getting a very early birthday present aka ailment/surgery for next year (liver? spleen? how about a nice appendicidis? Tumor? Oh, what will it be...).  Seems like that's been happening lately. 2 yrs ago I got news of the gallbladder, this year for my birthday results of bulging disks in my neck/spine. Yeehaw.  And who says I don't get something nice for my birthday...

I hardly slept last night so around noon I just looked at hubby and said that I couldn't stay awake and konked out for 5 hours. I so needed it. I still woke up sore in those to spots that are bugging me, but at least I got some shuteye.

Hubby was great during the day. He did dishes (I swear after one day of being laid up and not being able to move much the dishes seem to multiply far worse than when I left them) and breakfast.  I feel worse after eating so I nibbled on what he made throughout the day.

The last few days I was making the Indian flatbread and it seems to go with everything. Today since I was off kilter Hubby was in charge of doing dinners. Kiddo doesn't fuss too much with what he eats. Both do well with peanut butter and jelly sammiches (dread anything that isn't organic. The hydrogenatided crap should but used in target practice).  By the way, Hubby says don't use the following combination: peanut butter, cheese and pepperoini. Not good. Not good at all.  (I'll take his word for it).

Hoping water won't give me any trouble, getting thirsty. My hunger is abated psychologically knowing that I can sit upwrite to type this, otherwise I'd be in a world of hurt. Everything is seeming to set something internally off.  Air, depending on how deep I inhail it, shouldn't be too much of a bother, hopefully.

Before I head to bed it's ibuprophen and Malox. Wow, do I feel old. 

No Wonder I'm So Tired

It's funny how a peaceful day in real life can wind up into a screaming match in my dreams.  Honestly, Thursday was a relatively decent day when it came to yelling matches between Kiddo and I.  He's stubborn (just like his Daddy) and he takes after my Father who also is a Scorpio. Seems like I leave home after meeting Hubby-to-be, have a few years of peace and quiet, then Kiddo comes along who is the perfect replica of my Dad. His temperment is exactly like my Dad's... maybe my Dad is a toddler at heart even tho he's well into his 80's.

So my dream starts out where what can only be described as my dream house. Vaulted ceilings, two story, gorgeously spacious with a living room, dining room, family room and gourmet kitchen adjoining it.  It's the kind of house you could see on one of those "Housewives" shows.  It's a shame the dream took the turn it did, I mean, this was the house I've always wanted, couldn't I have focused a bit more on it?

I'm not sure what perspective I was in. Was I playing myself or watching on like a bystnader? I'm thinking bystander, but I saw that it was myself in the dream.

I don't recall events but I was having a screaming match with Kiddo. He wasn't listening (surprise, surprise) and something was either broken, misplaced, something that shouldn't have been touched, whatever. I dont' think my decibal level wasn't over into the "OMG she's lost it" kind of scream, but it was definitely up there.

Hubby walks in the door and asks what happen. I wasn't hysterical but very, very animated. He stood there just placidly listening and watching Kiddo run amuck in the family room, ripping up and tearing the place to bits.

When Hubby mentioned that all the neighbors in the neighborhood were complaining that they could hear me yelling at our son, I was sick with the idea that my name as a Mom was being tarnished. I felt horrible. I looked around me and felt like I had to pick up and move to get away from the gossip.

I looked at the walls and thought, "How paper thin are we?" I think apartment living has got to me and it's surfacing in my dream. When I do have to yell at Kiddo for trying to kill the cat or take a swing at me (I blame the video games he watches us play, I'm sure Warcraft running in the background doesn't help), I do raise my voice to curb him.  I've always hated disciplining because one little tap on his hand and he goes into this very well acted cry (Kiddo should be a politician or an actor, they're pretty much the same except one is going to screw you over) that probably to the neighbors (in real life) think that I'm being the snot out of him.  Trust me. There are moments where he severely tries my patience and I wish I could but I don't.

So, in the dream I'm left wondering about my Mommy skills and the ruckus Kiddo was causing, and the taking a moment to think about how much I actually yell at our son. Pick up and move because of the smear on my good name?

In the end of the dream I was just plain exausted from having to deal with all of this. I think Hubby (in the dream) retreated to his make believe world of video games (no surprise there, either) which made me even more mentally wiped out.  I'm telling you, I'm really starting to hate video games because of its reprocussions in real life, so of course it played a role in my dreams.

I woke up from the dream feeling groggy and stiff as if I was fighting an arduous battle. My limbs didn't feel like functioning and felt like lead when I tried to sit up. But one thing that I learned from my dream: I'm not going to yell as much as I do at Kiddo.  I never wanted to be "one of those" kind of parents.

Sigh. I hate it when dreams try to teach a lesson.

Indian Flatbread

Was looking for frybread recipes and either way, fried or grilled, I really enjoy my breads.  The oil, on the other hand, not so much.  I get enough calories during the day and adding more oil to my diet isn't what I was about this day.

I found a wonderful lady who does step by step Indian recipes on the 'Tube.  I'm thoroughly hooked.  Manjulaskitchen is her name, and I already am eyeballing another recipe of her's, dealing with tapioca pearls, milk and other ingredients ... I'm just going to have to try that for another day.

Manjulaskitchen Rotis (makes 4 flatbread)

• 1/2 C whole wheat flour
• pinch salt
• 1/4 C plus 1 TB warm water
• 1/4 tsp oil for hands and kneading of the dough
• Cast Iron Skillet

Knead dough then let it sit for 5-10 minutes.  Divide into the size of golfballs. This recipe makes four. Heat the iron skillet (no oil needed, but it's probably seasoned already with oil from prior use) over med-high heat.  In the meantime dip the dough into a dusting of wheat flour and roll out into circles with a diameter of about 5 inches.  Test skillet by sprinkling water into pan. If the water sizzles like crazy, it's hot enough (wipe water out of pan before adding the rotis).

Let bubbles form on one side of the Rotis with a bit of browning before flipping. Repeat on other side. Bubbles should form and brown a bit. At this point, hopefully!, the rotis will puff up. With a spatchula press down the puffing rotis, but go gently. Flip again to ensure a bit more browing. Steam will escape the puffed rotis, this is normal. Remove from heat, add a bit of ghee (melted, clarified butter), and place in a bowl with a towel to keep warm. Repeat process.

*Ghee: I used a combination of olive oil, butter, salt, onion and garlic powder, all melted and 'bloomed' for flavors. I used a brush to slather onto the finished Rotis. Served with pinto bean style hummus. Yumm.*

Hubby loved it (this was my first attempt at this and I'm going to do this again tomorrow) and kiddo wanted more of everything.  I doubled the recipe to make 8 Rotis and I found myself devouring most of it before I even served it to the rest of the family.  Okay, maybe I had 2 Rotis before it left my hands to serve to the fam.

I've been wanting to do more Indian meals, but I'm sort of super picky about it. The meal has to be flavorful not just packed with spices. So, this is a good thing, new venues! New cooking methods! And a great how-to on what exactly to do on the 'Tube.

Kudos to Manjula. I like her. She's easy to understand and the recipes are not at all intimidating (after she shows you).

Making Bread Crumbs and Seasoned Bagel Chips

This is kind of silly to post here, but a friend of ours has been getting bagels and muffins in ample supply from a local donut place when it's time for them to close for the night.  He'll get about a half a garbage bag full of 3-4 different kinds of bagel (plain, french toast, onion and multi-wheat) and the same goes with the muffins (cinnamon, pistachio, bran and chocolate chip).  There's been so much of the stuff that my freezer is kind of just a storage zone for bagel central.

Orginally he was getting this plethora of mana for another friend who owns their own farm and was going to give it to his livestock.  We came across this info and asked if we could get some the next time he was planning to do a bagel and muffin run.

Boy did he deliver.  I looked inside the bag and immediately thought, holy s#!%^, that's a lot!

A few days ago I took two bagels that looked like they were starting to seriously go stale and hard (they're a weapon at that point, or they could make a good brick if you were building a house) and thought what better way to use a bagel than to make some bread crumbs?

My poor blender. As I took ripped pieces of the bagel to grind up, the blender whirled and moaned and hissed in protest. I don't think this cheapy $10 blender was meant for such stressful labor. But in the end, it did its job and 2 bagels had a yield of 4 cups of bread crumbs.

Not that I want to be overflowing in breadcrumbs but I don't want to see the bagels go to waste.  Grandma and Uncle D. mentioned to try and make bagel chips, and I may just do that.

Maybe the seasoned chips should be:

• butter, olive oil and garlic/onion powder
• cinnamon and sugar
• olive oil and parmesan

There are some sweet bagels in the mix that I think the sugar mixture might be pretty nice. Only downfall is that I'll be working with a toaster oven and this may just take forever (oven is currently used as pots and pan storage because the house alarm is RIGHT OVER IT! stupid architects).

Anyway, today going to use some of the breadcrumbs to make briciole/ brizole (the Italian dish that looks like huge meatballs in marinara). Going to wing it but the ingredients are pretty much:

• Meat
• bread crumbs
• garlic and onion seasoning
• salt and pepper
• tomato sauce

On a damp and rainy day this may just hit the spot.

Fall Has Officially Arrived

It's gray and overcast with the potential for lots of rain.  The writer in me just wants to find a corner somewhere to write or read. I had a good reading session last night after Hubby, kiddo and myself came back home from visiting Grandma's House.  I swear it is so good to go over there to feel how it's like to live in a house again. I hate apartment living: it is cramped, confined, no viable storage (a.k.a. not damp) and you basically are at the mercy of the other tenants on whether or not they want to be safe or not. I did mention that downstairs we have a neighbor who smokes, right? We occasionally smell it coming through our doorway (yuck! it is just nauseating!) that I constantly fear he'll have an "accident" and burn the whole place down.  I know I voiced my fears about fall/winters in New England - every building is a tinderbox waiting to happen. So as the colder weather sets in, so does my paranoia.

It has begun, but I digress.

Kiddo was doing pretty darn good with not running away (which is public enemy #1 on our list) when we were at Grandma's house and he kept within eye and earshot. He had a good time with playing on the swings and helping rake up the leaves and stuff on the lawn.  Acorns were everywhere and depending on his mood he'll either help pick them up or get easily bored.  Later on today I'm going to try my hand at using the small handful of acorns to turn them into acorn meal (there's a whole process involved from cracking, rinsing and drying).

When we had gotten home, Hubby went upstairs to take an hour nap because work had called him in to pull a double shift and he was going to be going in with little to no sleep (he was going in for 11:30pm and was up since 8am in the morning).  Kiddo was fast on his heels in the sleep department. I went in the kitchen to catch up on some dishes and when I came back into the living room I saw kiddo passed out on the couch. I looked at the clock, it was 8pm.  Oh boy, I thought, he konked out early which means he'll be waking up sooner.

But, not wanting to turn on the computer for any reason other than finishing an article, I grabbed my book that I was reading (The Lady in White by Wilkie Collins) and curled up on the couch alongside of kiddo.  It was a good night for reading too. It was chilly, windy and rain just started to drizzle.  It felt like it was the perfect setting while reading the murder mystery.  Excellent book, by the way, and around midnight I finally pulled myself away from it to take kiddo up to his own room and for me to get some Z's.

Right now I'm torn tho. I feel I've completely negleted writing (non for profit, that's what I call it) to do other things.  Maybe I can take "one for the team" and continue article writing like a fiend so that I can A) cover the cat's medical treatment B) car repairs and C) start a "Mommy's writing only laptop" fund.  In all reality I need to find something more than the articles that are being written on the website.  I'm hoping that some of the crafting that I plan to do could be sold around town.  Anyways, money in is money in... until the fate of the universe says it's money out time.

I guess I should try to micromanage time better. Set aside time for writing, reading, crafting, housework, kiddo and hubby time and the occasional hygene check to make sure I'm not neglecting myself. Don't want to be in funkville, if you know what I mean. Oh, and it also helps to catch a shower before the neighbors do. Hot water is a commodity (well, it seems like it for me. Everytime I jump in the shower halfway through I'm *yiking* and *!$!%* that the water just went cold).

Epic plans. Hopeful hopes. Just need the momentum to keep me going.

This Should Be a Dormroom Favorite

Ok, health aside (on meds again, feeling day #2 of feeling better), I remembered long ago when Hubby and I were staying up late one night playing World of Warcraft and was in super crave mode for something sweet. I was thinking pancakes but neither had the pancake mix, and I was too lazy at 2am to make them from scratch.  Hubby came up with a brilliant "Mock Pancake" or "Mock French Toast".  It's seriously simple and silly. 

Take two or more slices of bread, butter them, dash of cinnamon on top for each, slather sticky gooey syrup between each layer and nuke in the microwave for about one minute.

Having one of my lazy moments and wondering what to have for breakfast, it came to mind. Kiddo liked them immediately, "Mommy, can I have more mock pancakes please?" Yeah, I know, healthy eh?

And it even gets better for the rest of the day. What's for dinner? Hot pockets, but the fancy kind. Chicken dijon with bacon and chedder (from the Lean Pockets selection, so sort of kind of maybe in a really upside down realm it is a healthy kind of food in a super processed kind of way).

Both (the mock 'cakes and the hot pockets) are going against the mood I've been going through lately.  I've been wanting to do more of what my Bro-In-Law Dan is doing, sustainability from the land.  Not to mention, I've been wanting to harvest some acorns to make the acorn meal out of.  I just can't wait until kiddo is a little older because I think it would be a great experience for him to get to know the land a bit better.

Oy... there goes my neck again. Meds to the rescue.

Seriously Scarey Head Pains

I woke up at 5:30am with a splitting pain in the back of my head.  I was completely wracked with pain thinking that I was having a stroke. I went to bed at 2am with a surfacing sinus pressure headache in the front part of my face.  Hours later I thought I would have to be rushed to the ER, it was that painful.  I know I have a bulging disk that takes pain to a whole new level, but this was so painful that it was even hard to breathe.

I limped downstairs to grab some ibuprophen and crawled back into bed.  Hubby was just waking up to start getting ready for work. He was worried. I was worried. I seriously was this close to packing up kiddo, getting him to grandma's, and heading to the hospital. 

Luckily after about forty minutes of excruciating pain, it started to subside.  Hubby didn't have to call up work to take off time, we didn't have to rush to the ER and after a few hours sleep, I was 50% better.

I don't like this. I don't like feeling like my brain is going to explode. It's scarey. I go down a very morbid path. I wonder about missing my son growing up. I think about not being with my hubby. All of which terrifies me to no end.

I have one more month till I see the neurosurgeon for analysis. That's one long wait, its been over a month under my belt and one more to go.  As my Sister-in-law's husband, a doctor, said to me: No neck surgery. I agree. I just want to know where I stand. Life long meds is my only options? Dude, then med me up. This morning I slipped from being functional to dangerously frightened.

Someone fix me. I used to worry that people would think that I was a hypocondriac (yes, I thought people would think that I was just "making a mountain over a molehill" that I wasn't really sick at all), that I would be rushed to the hospital for every little ache and pain.  I guess I'm past that now because my body is rebelling, hardcore. This is not a drill. If this is a test, Lord help me. I am and forever will be on the wings of a prayer... and good health insurance.

Lots of Rain, Would Have Been Inspiration For Writing But...

I'm just tired, that's all. I've been listening to a lot of Native American radio the last few days and learning about the issues that effect them.  Someone may ask why am I interested? Well, it's good listening.  There are a broad range of topics and I just listen to it as I go about doing my daily chores in the house.

Normally when it rains I either have to frames of thought: I want to sleep or I want to write.  I think I was somewhere in between of: I'm sleepy with the hopes of trying to write. And, if I don't write when it rains, it makes me want to read.

Guess what. I did pretty much nothing along those lines. I cleaned, I cooked, I yelled at kiddo for not listening.  The usual "dry days" routine.

I do have to say tho, late last night in the wee hours of the morning a wonderful, delicously wicked fog rolled in over the land.  Across the street we can see the town library and the building was enshrouded with this mist. The outside lights cast this eerie glow and the darkness inside the library was spooky.  It was awesome. You'd think that I'd write some lines of a murder mystery or something, it was that inspiring.

Instead, kiddo woke up with a nightmare. Twice. It started to rain late last night and it was perfect for sleeping, not that I'd know.  Hubby fell asleep at 8pm (along with kiddo) so by the time I went to bed that's the time when the nightmare's surfaced. Thankfully hubby was more rested than I was to deal with him. I woke up this morning, looked in the mirror and groaned.

"Great. Bloodshot [eyes]." Couldn't have been helped.

So I guess that threw a wrench in the machine for me being my ol' cheery self. Maybe tomorrow I'll get back to writing more, other than the blogging and article writing thing.

Apple Pickin' With the Fam

Sunday was apple picking and we had some really nice autumn weather. Connecticut in autumn is really beautiful, and I told dear hubby that I would love to move there if and when we can afford a house. It reminds me of Wisconsin with its rolling hills and vast expanse of trees, and in fall, it's just so incredibly gorgeous.  The foliage is just turning those vibrant colors of red, oranges and yellows against the dark bark of the tree. It's stunning and as I like to say, "Soothes the soul."

Apple picking was just a short 30 minute drive away (I think that was how long it took). We carpooled with Grandma because our family car is still in the shop for repairs and our other second car (a P.O.S.) that really is not safe to drive. Kiddo was 99.9% good on the ride there and we were stopping off a place called Vanilla Bean Cafe for breakfast. Everyone was meeting there as well.

I'm ashamed to say that I ate a very expensive meal. I was excited to see Eggs Benedict on the menu - my ultimate favorite for breakfast - that's all I could say over and over when someone asked me what I was going to eat.  The portions at this place aren't the greatest for the price, and I of course slipped into the mode of, "If it'll cost $10 for breakfast, I could use that $10 elsewhere to make a meal for the whole family if I went grocery shopping." That's exactly what happened when I was standing in line and had one person in front of me who was giving their order.

I turned to hubby and said, "I'll just get a bagel. That's cheap, maybe with a cup of tea."

Hubby was adamant that I got what I wanted. I resisted! I wanted to be economical but hubby was determined that I get my favorite. 

"If you don't get the Benedict," he said, "you'll ruin the whole day. Get what you want."

We don't go out often, I mean, next to hardly ever. Even tho I was rationalizing against getting the expensive breakfast, I sighed, fought against it, but in the end I just went with it. I ordered it.

I should have done what Grandma did. She had a breakfast before she left her house (smart cookie!) but I didn't get up in time to do that. I woke up 20 minutes before she was going to pick us up (kiddo had a nightmare in the middle of the night and it shot my sleep).  I was half asleep when I heard the phone ring downstairs and hubby was talking about the apple picking and whether or not we were going. I yelled, "We're going, I'm up!" and stumbled out of bed to get ready. "But, she'll be here in 20 minutes." hubby said. I came down the stairs and already had my jeans on. "Wow, you're fast." he said.  Fast but halfway awake, I thought.

Breakfast was Eggs Benedict, home fries (too salty and spicy, bleh! couldn't eat it) and two wedges of watermellon (really tiny).  Even tho it was expensive, the eggs were good... and full of fat and calories and everything that could possibly give my digestion trouble later.  Eggs, more eggs with cream (for the hollandaise sauce) and butter can do a number on me. But, my gut is like roulette. Sometimes I make out and I'm perfectly fine the rest of the day. Other times... let's just say keep me near an open window and a lot of fresh air.

Kiddo, on the other hand, was trying my patience. He's a natural born runner and I'm being generous by saying he was good 60-70% of the time while at the Vanilla Bean Cafe.

Bad kiddo: Running like a mad man, jumping on the couches that were in the back of the room, dropping to the ground when you have him by the hand. The running part is what I can't stand. He thinks it's one big game. No matter if I smack his bottom, he'll giggle it off and just pick up running again the chance when let go.  Not sure how we can break him of the running without BREAKING him! Sometimes I swear by Odin's Beard!

*Find a happy place, find a happy place* There was a cute moment tho, kiddo was super adorable when his baby cousin showed up. He held her hand and was incredibly gentle. "She's so soft!" he said. She's less than one years old, I believe.  It was an awww moment.

Moving to the apple orchard. He had a great time. We had a great time. He and Auntie M. were picking apples along with Cousin D. (who's about one year older than our son who's almost 4) in the lanes of apples. Hubby was getting tons of great pics of everyone. Boys will be boys, both kiddo and cousin had a lot of wrestling in between apple picking.  Let them get it out of their system just as long as no one will get hurt (or hurt others).

Towards the end of the apple picking kiddo and cousin were calling each other by name- that was great to see. Kiddo doesn't get a lot of interaction with other kids, and we were hoping to get him into a place like Jamboree Village (or whatever it's called) a few times a week just so that he can get some social skills going. He needs it, he's a really personable kid.

I filled our apple bag up to the rim (for a small "bushel" it cost $11) and I thought that was highway robbery. Not so much when we came home and I weighed it. 11 1/2 lbs of apples for $11.  Just a little over $1 a pound. Not bad, but mainly we went for the family experience more than anything.

It was expensive in my book, and next time I'm serving breakfast first for everyone then we go to the Cafe and order l-i-t-e = cheap.  Kiddo, for next year, better get that running streak out of him.  And maybe by next year by the grace of God and/or winning the lottery, we'll be one step closer to getting our own home.

I do love autumn in New England. The changing of the season- is just so incredible. Add a crisp, cool day with blue skies and bright sun, orange pumpkin patches and tart apples and kids laughing, my little chunk of heaven. And when we came home, I felt a little sad that it was all over.

Noodles,

Growing up in the northwest part of Chicago, my Polish roots were very satisfied when it came to food.  There were a handful of Polish restaraunts that were always on our weekly or biweekly dinner excursions. There are a good number of favorites, but one in particular always made it to my plate: Kluski Casserole (Chicken livers with noodles)

I've varied it a bit, but last night I think I nailed a very good variation of it.

Mock Kluski Casserole (Ground Beef with Noodles):

• Ground Beef Patties (3 in total)
• 1/2 white onion, sliced fine
• 1/2 can green beans
• olive oil
• 1-2 Tb butter
• garlic powder
• onion powder
• salt and pepper
• 1/2 box of Rotini Pasta (whole wheat is wonderful in this dish)
• optional: chicken seasoned boullion (I have the non MSG, powder form)

In a frying pan with some olive oil toss in onions and cook until semi-translucent. At this point throw in the beef patties and and break apart while cooking (I would have used ground beef but we had patties in the freezer instead).

In a separate pot, bring water to boil and add a pinch of salt. Add the rotini pasta and cook according to instructions on the box. Optional: add a smidge of chicken boullion (or powder) to the cooking noodles to enfuse extra flavoring into the pasta. I used very little and it seemed to do the trick.

Back to the meat/onions: Season the cooking meat and onions with salt, pepper, onion powder and garlic powder. Add the green beans. Cook until meat is browned nicely in the frying pan. Drain the fat from the pan and disgard (I use a paper towel to soak up all the grease). 

Once the pasta is cooked, drain and add to the meat and onion mixture.  Add a bit more onion power and garlic powder. Finish the dish with 1-2 TB of butter and serve.

(Tastes just like it comes from the White Eagle Restaurant on Milwakee Ave. I will forever love this dish, and not living in Chicago anymore it's good to have a taste of my hometown close at hand if I ever long for it ). YUM.

Bribery

This is definitely a Mommy Quest for sure. For the longest time Junior has whole heartedly refused to be potty trained.  We've bought one potty, inherited a relative's plastic one (in excellent and brand new condition) and one that slips over a regular toilet for the seat.  We've bought a kid's training book that even has a flushing toilet sound bit on it in hopes of making going "like a big boy" on the potty more fun. 

Me: "Want to go on the potty?"
Kiddo: "Nope!"
[He then promptly runs away screaming like it's a game].

In short, he just has zero interest.

Until now.

Bribery. Bribery is the only way I see working at the moment, but if we aren't careful it's going to get pricey. How are we bribing? Hot Wheel Cars. My Mom who lives wayyyy over in Wisconsin sent a box of goodies for the family, and one small box of precious bribing material of toy cars.  Kiddo saw them (doh! he found them, I was trying to keep them hidden!) and wanted to open them up.

Me: "No, no, no. These are rewards for when you go pee-pee and poo-poo on the potty."

I nearly fell over when he ran to the potty and lifted the lid and sat down. *JAW DROPS* What is this? Do I have a viable bribery here? Is he seriously interested in using the training toliet?!? OMG, I thought, THIS IS THE MOMENT I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR!  *wipes tear away* Oh, it's been a long road for sure, to get to this point.  Of course he still needs to know in advance that he 'has to go' and not sit on the toilet AFTER he just went in his diaper.  That's the trick to this all. No potty, no car toy.

But, this is only day #2 in the adventure of some serious potty training. I've seen him run to the toilet more in the last two days than he has in the last 8 months. No joke. I've put the box of brand new car toys on top of our t.v. set with the words "Potty Rewards" writen on it. He sees it and keeps asking for a toy, but now he knows very well when he's going to get them.

I've gotten advice from a good amount of people on this subject, and I'm one of those easy going kind of Moms when it comes to this issue. He's not going to be in diapers forever, one day he'll get it.  I do give kudos to parents who were able to get their kid trained quickly, but their smug pride about it is rather rude.  "I've gotten my toddler trained in two days and they were only two years old." If I hear that inflection one more time, I swear...

I have entertained the idea of having junior run around butt naked over at Grandma/Grandpa's house with only a loincloth on and let him go eu naturale. An aquaintance mentioned that they did away with diapers one day and had towels at the ready (I did this. I don't recommend it. Pee everywhere, it's a messy tactic. DON'T DO IT!)

Kids are the ones who basically will let the parent know when they are ready. Junior here is getting close. I think the bribery thing may work, but it's still a work in progress.

Remember [aside to kiddo]: "Don't stand in the potty. That's were all the yuck-yuck goes. If you stand in that, it would be just gross!" Thank God the potty was empty!

Making Fry Bread

Not in the sense that I actually made it. It was in my dream, but it was no ordinary dream (as most dreams I remember usually aren't- ask hubby).  I was reading a few articles from my Bro-In-Law on another networking site and I think some it stuck when I went to bed.  That and I rewatched making fry bread with the lady from the Ojibwe tribe that posted a video on Youtube.

I found myself - in the dream - grabbing a ton of flour, salt, baking powder and mixing it in a bowl.  I did the unheard of and cleared out our oven to use.  Backstory in real life: our oven is never used. Why? We have super SUPER sensitive fire alarms in the kitchen and the numbnuts who thought it was a good idea to put the main heat sensor for the grounded alarms in the kitchen placed it about a foot away from a heat source on the ceiling.  Hence open the oven door for juuuuust too long and WHAM! EEH! EEEH! EEEH! EEEH! (alarm sounds that can bust an eardrum, I'm sure my deafness is enhanced because of them). So, ever since our oven has remained a storage area for all our pots and pans respectively.

But in the dream I cleared the oven out of all the clutter and cranked it on. I started to make dough balls, sectioning off and measuring what was going to be used for what. I brought out my marble rolling pin and began rolling out sizes of tortillas, pita bread and fry bread (but in the dream everything was baked). 

At one point our small galley kitchen (I'm not kidding, it's the size of a closet) filled with women from the fry bread video and more. We laughed and got our hands messy from mixing and patting out dough, and talking about fry bread. It was really that old school, tribal kind of feel- you know, where all the women gather around and just cook and do stuff together. If I could put a feeling along with that image in my mind, it's a good kind of thing.

What was really cool about this dream was that the ladies were talking about their traditions and stories that were passed down from generation to generation. Sadly, I can't remember any of them, but I remember in the dream that I kneaded away while listening enthralled by what they were telling me. It was so cool, it was so natural in the dream to be hanging out and chatting away with the women tribal members.

"Got enough dough there? You have enough to feed the whole tribe."
My response, "I hope so!"

I think I'm going to make fry bread soon. Have a cast iron pan that I want to break in, and fry bread would be a great inception into the oil world of fried foods.

And on another level, I miss going to PowWows that I used to go to as a teenager. When Mom, Dad and I packed up for the family vacation for Wisconsin, it was always perfect timing that a Pow Wow from one of the tribes was going on. I dragged Mom and Dad to any and all of them that I could get my hands on. All of them were great experiences, where I sat down to chat with people and ate some really cool stuff (my first taste of venison, if I remember correctly).

I mourn the time when I got rid of virtually everything I had bought from the Pow Wow's and my visits to Wisconsin because I was trying to downsize the clutter I had in my life. Worst mistake ever. I'm just going to have to get the things I lost all over again, from baskets, shawls, jewelry, feather fans and beaded moccasins. Believe me when I say this, I had a lot of awesome stuff.  I just wish that we could take a trip to Wisconsin now and again with hubby and son (my folks are there too) but the economy in our lives wont allow it. Not yet anyway.

Rhode Island is very much like Wisconsin in many respects, so at certain bends in the road I feel closer to the things that I have come to know and love because they are very familiar. It's very much a comfort.

I guess you can say I'm feeling very tribal for the day. Thanks to the dream and the mood of the day, I have a feeling this is going to be a good day.

Seriously Stalling, and Being Totally Productive Otherwise

I've completely stalled out for writing an article. Luckily it was due in three days so I of course, used every waking moment to putter around it.  I've cooked, cleaned, done laundry, played with kiddo both on his computer and Play Dough sessions, sewn the holes in a few shirts for repairs, watched Twilight: Eclipse, read some of the book I'm currently reading, yelled at kiddo for having a conniption over his computer, gave him a bath- junior not the computer, lol- (which he took a bucket of water and got me soaking wet, was so not happy on that one, but I was more calm than I expected)...

and squeezed out maybe 100 words for the article.

I'm stalling. Ironically stalling for the article has kicked up some good ideas for the novel I'm trying to write. I brushed off the virtual dust and picked up where I left off. Tho, it was short lived.  I felt the guilt of not writing the article in it's place, a.k.a. being responsible. I had some really good ideas and I knew my muse was there with me waiting for me to continue writing the novel, but I really needed to focus on that listless article instead. So, like a good little cubby I jotted down my ideas and went back to the  thing that I was puttering over.

I then proceeded stared at the screen for about 20 min and then websurfed.

Oh, this was the topper: at midnight my computer monitor flatlined. Literally. I thought an alien species had hijacked my computer because all went blank to a pitch black screen with one thin streak of light from left to right of the monitor. Hubby was pulling a double shift at work, and when he got home he saw it and immediately knew what it was. The veritcal thingie inside the monitor was shot.  No way of fixing it.

I had a "OMG-I-WON'T-BE-CONNECTED-TO-MY-COMPUTER" moment. Well, wouldn't be able to see my computer moment, but the same effect is implied.

Hubby, God bless!, hooked up his monitor to mine and we're going to look for a new monitor for me later. Sigh of relief.  Good thing too. That article is due in 12 hrs and I need to finish it. And am I? No. I'm blogging atm. Another stalling tactic.

Oh dear, it's lunchtime. Maybe I'll make some grilled cheese sandwiches for kiddo and myself...

Stall... stall... stall... BLEH!

Bean Burgers

Thanks to the idea of Bro-In-Law Dan of using chili beans (Grandma mentioned it), I morphed my bean burger recipe (from a friend's Mom).  Morphing was minimal since the chili beans were already seasoned. Turned out delicious.

Bean Burgers:

• 1 can of (I used chili) beans, drained
• 1 small can of green chilies, drained and chopped
• cumin, garlic powder, onion powder to taste
• 1 egg, beaten
• 1 C or more (panko) breadcrumbs
•  Cornmeal for rolling bean burger patty in 
• Olive oil for frying
• Bread and condiments as used with meat burgers

Mash beans, add drained green chilies, seasoning, beaten egg and breadcrumbs. If mixture is really wet, add more breadcrumbs to absorb the moisture. Form patties and 'pat' patty in cornmeal on both sides to coat outside to make a great crust.  In a frying pan heat up oil until hot and pan fry each side of the bean burgers until nicely browned. Keep in mind bean burgers are really fragile (or at least mine were) and can crumble apart with handling.  Add condiments as you would with a bun or slice of bread to complete the dish.

Really easy to make and this is a great way to get protein in the diet and is super tasty. Way better than the cardboard veggie burgers in the frozen section of the market.