Sunday, December 30, 2007

Perpo and the Man

"Mama, Daddy took me to the bathroom and he used his junk himself!"

Friday, December 21, 2007

In the puking time

First struck down was Perp on Monday night with three bouts of violent vomiting and sheet/blanket changes. Tuesday everything seemed clear. Wednesday she puked on my mom's floor. Wednesday night Dude succumbed: FIVE bedding changes. Last night, I got the call in the form of a vague, semi-scary wakeup at 11:30. You know the feeling: "Uh oh. Something Is Up. Maybe if I just lie here..." bolt to bathroom. I ended up sitting on the tub for half an hour before the first round, so that's nice.

Note to self: when Husband's popcorn makes you want to hurl, prepare yourself for the worst.

Top it all off with (three) raging cases of near-cholera diarrhea and you have yourself a very merrry Christmas.

Here's something you may not have known: dehydration can make you so dizzy as to nearly pass out. Slumping to the floor with your head between your knees works wonders for that.

Also: my mother-in-law rocks the freaking UNIVERSE, and I'm not afraid to say so. She came over (despite having had this yesterday, which I didn't know at the time), and wrangled the kinder while I sprawled on my death bed. Then? THEN? She CLEANED! Okay, tidied, the place was actually pretty clean but we have chronic clutter problem. AND? She took the Perp home for the night. If you can think of a nice gift for her to thank her, drop me a line. I don't think she's a massage/mani/pedi person. I should really know this by now, shouldn't I? I suck.

Tuesday, December 04, 2007

(C)Happy (C)Ha(n)u(k)ka(h)

I was going to post earlier to allow for my European friends but I'm lazy. Or I forgot. Whatever, have a latke on me!

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Pork roasty goodness

Oh sweet mother of god:

pork shoulder roast (bone-in good)
kosher salt, maybe 1/2 - 3/4 c
handful of fresh sage leaves, chopped
2-3 garlic cloves, smashed
mashed up szechuan peppercorns (from penzeys) <---- this is my particular favorite. You may not love them as much as I do but if you don't I can't speak to you anymore.

Mix everything in a bowl and rub onto pork. Let it sit for at least 2 hours.

Cook at 450. Use a thermometer for to not overcook. Good lord. I think mine went about an hour and a half. If you tossed in some spuds at about an hour? OMG.


Perp reading The Little Engine that Could: Once upon a time there was a little choo-choo. "I like to do lots of things. I can go up hills. I wish I could pee."


Thursday, November 08, 2007

Stupid calendar

I've had myself convinced that today was the 9th and my Meg Swensen DVD was going to be in my hot little hands this morning. Clearly I am wrong. Dammit!

Dude, when you can't even remember what the hell day it is? Time for an intervention.*

*And I mean all week, not just today. ALL. WEEK.

Wednesday, November 07, 2007

Thank you for your support

I own two three non-nursing bras. I bought the main two when I was pregnant with Perp, which means I got them in October 2003. I have not replaced them nor even considered doing so until recently. I mean, they're holding together remarkably well, they're still white, and I don't appear to have changed size, even if I have shown remarkable, uh, attention to the laws of gravity.

So why haven't I gotten new ones since then? Is it because I find it painful to buy new clothes for myself? That replacing them when they aren't torn, snagged, or stained seems wasteful? Or maybe I don't want to show my new boobs to a stranger when I get sized (just curious if I'm really the same size or if all that extra just happens to fill the same space, when you smash it into the cup).

I think part of it is that while I have no problem buying clothes for everyone else in the family, I feel guilty when I do it for myself. I almost only buy from Target, and only if it's on deep discount. I only get utilitarian things, which makes sense given the likelihood of my being covered in random food substaces or pig/goat/chicken shit.

Part of it is also that I hardly ever wore a bra before I had the kids. I wore these little sports-bra-meets-camisole dealies that did nothing but add another layer, and that was okay. Back in the day I had these gravity-defying funbags that had to be seen to be believed. Oh, how I wish I'd taken pictures of them. The things you never thought you'd say..

So anyway, I didn't wear them, or when I did they were entirely the wrong size so I got rid of a bunch and never replaced them. And now I have my trusty friends, workhorses that WILL NOT DIE SO I CAN REPLACE THEM.

Maybe it's time to hold an old-fashioned bra burning.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Too many cool sites

out there these days. But with the rampant consumerism absolutely insane expectations holiday season upon us, perhaps you'll find this handy. It's so cool! You can set it so spouses don't draw each others' names, even. Damn. Clever, these elves.

I swear to god I hit submit

yet there's no Monday post.

Ah well. I think I beat last year's record for fucking up. Woohoo!

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Cookie goodness

I worked these up on the theory that they'd be good for Dude and his stupid gluten intolerance. Imagine my surprise when I found out that oats have gluten in them. *sigh*

So. If you (or someone you know) can't have wheat because of a wheat allergy, rather than a gluten intolerance, these are great. Crispy on the edges, chewy in the center, and no one I gave them to could tell they were wheat free.

1 c butter
1 c white sugar
1 c brown sugar
1 T vanilla
1 t baking soda
2 eggs
1 t salt
1 T xanthan gum
1/3 c rice flour
2 c tapioca flour
1 bag chocolate chips
2 c quick (NOT instant) oats --if you like an oatier texture, use the regular oats, the ones that take 3-5 minutes to cook. If you use the quick ones, most people won't even notice them, but the cookies will have a wonderful texture that's nothing like those sandy gluten-free cookies.

Work just like a regular cookie recipe, cream butter/sugar, add eggs, etc.

Bake at 375 until nice and brown.

I think if I make them again I'll also add 1-2 T flax seeds; good fiber and a little crunch to boot.

Even if you're not wheat free, give these a try. They're really fantastic.

Don't know much about history

or football, but I know funny.

Saturday, November 03, 2007


I'm working up a Baby Surprise Jacket and until just now I thought I was really kicking some BSJ ass. But I'm 3 sts short for the first increase row so I guess I have to frog it and start over. BUT! I found this really cool site that has a modernized pattern written out. I think I'll love this, but Zimmermann's directions are a bit ... loosey goosey.

So I'm starting it over again. Wish me luck!

Friday, November 02, 2007

New for the Spring 2008 Prostitot collection

This kind of thing is a particular problem for me, the clothing of small girls in mini-me whore clothes. Dressing toddlers in pants that say YUMMY across the ass are isn't cute, it's appalling. Imagine my surprise when I heard about Celia Rivenbark, who seems to feel exactly the same way I do.

Children are not miniature adults and they should not be dressed as such. I don't know why that's so hard for parents to understand. And don't give me that, "But I don't want her to be picked on," or "I don't know about fashion, what am I supposed to do?" bullshit. You're supposed to say NO. Do your goddamned job, dude. Don't be her friend; be her father.

It's hard enough raising (or being) a girl in this culutre. Why subject her to its ugly side any sooner than you have to?

I suppose this is the proper time to admit that I've been making Perp a bunch of burquas. They're in pretty colors! Of course, since she's going to live in the basement until she's 30, I suppose it doesn't really matter what she wears.

Thursday, November 01, 2007


It's baaaaaack.

I totally forgot today was November so I have nothing to say but I'm taking another shot at it. I hope it takes me longer to forget to post this time.

Monday, October 29, 2007

Can you hear the howling, Clarice?

Okay, that title will prove to be completely inappropriate, but I kind of like it. Shut up!

Perp was washing her doll, Coyote last night, and I realized, oh my god God, she named her doll Coyote. What the hell? Where on earth did that come from? Then I realized, hell, she already has a doll she named Yes (very popular with the boy dolls), an invisible friend named Trupe/Troop/Troupe (she can't spell it so I don't know), another invisible friend called Commando, an invisible dog named Buster. Quite the stable. She also demands that we role-play. Recently, while under her weird mind control, I spent an hour being Gus, a classmate of hers. I like him. He likes to lie on the floor and pretend to sleep. Imagine the coincidence, so do I!

Go figure.

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Cross-cultural pollination

Perp and Dude are watching the Street, as they are wont to do every morning. I don't love the idea but what the hell, we're Amerian parents and we may as well buy in. Aaaaanyway, call me crazy, but I think Mr. Noodle just missed taking a ride with Travis Bickle. WTF?

Wednesday, October 24, 2007

Let us praise

the Magic Eraser. Yeah, it's good for cleaning walls. It's suitable for removing crayon from various surfaces. It's even showing up on the heads of mops (though that seems like a spectacular waste, given how fast they fall apart). All this is true, yes.


Here's what I bet you didn't know: the Magic Eraser, glory of glories, will remove ground-in, dried-up poop from your bathroom grout.

Don't ask; I have no idea, either.

Friday, October 12, 2007

Tuesday, October 09, 2007

Sometimes I surprise myself

I've been looking--off and on--for at least a year, for this story Husband and I heard on NPR a few years ago. It was about this guy who was hitchhiking to a bluegrass competition and got picked up by a young couple and their various adventures together. All I could remember was that the young man could jimmy open Coke machines (v proud of this fact) and his girlfriend was a shoplifter and the story was HYSTERICAL.

And tonight, after whining about it on Ravelry's NPR group, I found it. I found it!

Ridin' with Junior McGee

Thursday, October 04, 2007

Oh, Chandra,

I'm so disappointed. I posted this at 7:13 this evening

Baby ate meth, the explosion was because the parents were cooking up a batch.

Between that and the deer last week, I'd say this show has officially jumped a very large shark.

Approximately four minutes later, lo. And behold. I am prescient.

Either that or the writers are on a SERIOUS plot vacation. Or both, but whatever, now I have space in my season pass queue.

Wednesday, October 03, 2007

Dear Dude

If you don't take a nap, I'm going to lose my shit. Seriously. I mean it.

Please. Work with me on this.

I would like to see you like this within the next 30 minutes.

Thank you for your consideration,

Tuesday, September 25, 2007


is about to kick my ass. I just cracked the book for my 5-week course and I nearly died. I haven't taken chemistry in something like 10 years. My math skillz? Rusty. Six hours a week to spare on studying the digestive system? Unlikely.

But I'm doing it anyway. Psych is turning out to be such a cake walk that I may as well do something challenging, right?

Hi ho, hi ho, it's off to school I go.

Wednesday, September 19, 2007


It's Talk Like a Pirate day!

So ahoy, me hearties! Bring me one noggin of rum, now, won't you, matey?

Saturday, July 28, 2007

Elimination diet and the junk-food junkie

It's clear to me that Perp needs to go on a strict elimination diet. Her skin worsens by the day and aside from strawberries and tomatoes, there is no clear trigger. I made the mistake of going back to a scented laundry soap and that is probably a part of the problem, but it's not the only one. I know that Dude's skin improved immeasurably when I took him off wheat (plus he gained a pound in a month!), so I know it's probably going to be worth the effort. But. Ew.


I have a list of foods that she *should* be able to eat safely, but ensuring that she doesn't have anything else is going to be difficult. I'll have to send food to school for a few weeks, and insist that she eat NOTHING else there or at the ILs' place. This may prove to be harder than it looks. I think there are a few things on here I'm going to let her have yet, but if things don't get better within two weeks, I'll cut them out too. Oh, this is going to suck.

The biggest problem, I think, is going to be convincing people that this is necessary and useful. People don't always accept that simple foods, which are supposed to be good for you, after all, could cause her skin to be so bad. But it's true, they could. We know that tomatoes and strawberries make her flare hideously, so why can't other foods? I hope I can make that point without resorting to the "she's my child and I'll decide what's good for her" argument. I'm afraid if I have to make it, that will mean she cannot be in places where people don't respect my decision. Ugh.

On the plus side, I did this with Dude for a couple of months and lost like 15 lb, so it could be great for me to get back on the ED train. Extra oils for the kids, though.

So if you are considering doing an elimination diet, or if you've never heard of it and want to see the weeks of hell before us, here it is, copied and edited from this guy:

Allowed foods
Meat and seafood
Fresh or fresh frozen lamb

Any type of wild game is acceptable. Deep-water ocean fish such as orange roughy, halibut, tuna, and wild salmon are allowed. All salmon from Alaska is wild.

Turkey is allowable if it is fresh, has not been injected or pre-basted with “butterball” chemicals, is not ground, pressed, or otherwise processed, and has no additives.

Vegetables: sweet potatoes (except that Dude can't have them *sigh*), yams, cabbage, carrots, squash (many varieties), asparagus, cauliflower, avocados, celery, garlic, okra, radishes, greens (beet, mustard, spinach, collards, etc.), cucumbers, eggplant, Brussels sprouts, kale, avocado, broccoli, parsnips, green peppers (not hot pepper or peppery spices), rutabaga, leek, and turnips.

Because wheat, corn, rice, rye, oats, barley, buckwheat, millet, and other grains are common causes of allergy, and because all grains belong to related food families, avoid grains while on this diet. This means you must avoid all breads and other foods made with any kind of flour. Although buckwheat, amaranth, milo and quinoa do not belong to the grain family, many grain sensitive people react to those grain substitutes and they should also be avoided. There is no way to make a sandwich, so get used to it.

Fruit: fresh or fresh frozen fruits (not fruits dried in sugar or packed in sugar or syrup), including bananas, grapes, peaches, pears, pineapple, kiwi, papaya, mangos, melons (watermelon, cantaloupe, honeydew, Crenshaw), cherries, apricots, pomegranates, mangos, coconuts, plums, persimmons, blackberries, blueberries, cranberries, raspberries, or loganberries. Eat only small servings of fruit, as fruits contain lots of natural sugar. Fruit canned in its own juice without sugar or additives are allowed. Avoid fruit juice except in small amounts.

You can eat nuts, including filberts (hazel nuts), almonds, or pecans. Use fresh cracked or nuts still in the shell, not roasted, or otherwise treated. (Peanuts are not nuts despite their name. They are actually legumes. Avoid peanuts.)

You may use safflower oil, sunflower oil, flaxseed oil, sesame oil and extra virgin olive oil. Use only cold pressed oils with no additives, purchased from a natural food source.

For condiments, you may use honey in very small amounts as a sweetener. Stevia is highly recommended as a natural sweetener. (Avoid NutraSweet®, Equal®, aspartame and saccharine, which are artificial chemical sweeteners.) Sea salt is allowed. The allowed oils can be used for cooking and on salads. Chopped nuts (of allowed types), ginger, garlic, cilantro, almond butter, and sesame butter are allowed. Many of the nut butters are processed in the same equipment that makes peanut butter, so read the label for warnings about small amounts of potential allergens.

Foods You Must Strictly Avoid

Strictly avoid: milk, cheese, yogurt, egg, all grains (including corn, wheat, rye, oats, barley, rice), sugar, oranges, grapefruit, legumes, beans, peas, peanuts, beef, chicken, pork, apple, white potato, food colorings, chemical additives, emulsifiers, yeast, preservatives, chocolate, cola, processed and packaged foods, coffee, tea, and alcoholic beverages.

Milk and milk-containing foods: Avoid milk and dairy products entirely, including cheese, butter, ice cream, margarine, yogurt, cream soups, breads, crackers, cookies, cakes, candies, luncheon meats, and other manufactured or processed foods. Casein and lactalbumin are other names for milk protein. Read all labels carefully.

Egg-containing foods: Avoid eggs or any foods containing egg, including custards, cakes, cookies, ice cream, pies, macaroni, salad dressings, noodles, pancake mixes, and all other manufactured or processed foods.

Grain-containing foods: Avoid wheat, corn, rye, barley, rice, and all grains and foods containing grains. This includes all commercial breads, cookies, crackers, cereals, batters, luncheon meats, pancake mixes, candies and a wide variety of other packaged and processed foods.

Citrus: Avoid orange, grapefruit, and foods containing those citrus fruits.

Sugar-containing foods: Avoid cane sugar, beet sugar, corn sugar, fructose, glucose, and brown sugar—including candies, cakes, sugar-coated cereals, ice cream, carbonated beverages, and the wide spectrum of processed and packaged foods which contain sugar. Sugar is hidden in dozens of foods including catsup, pickles, relishe, and salad dressings. Avoid artificially sweetened food or drinks that contain NutraSweet®, Equal® or aspartame. A very small amount of honey is allowed, but sweets are very addicting and it is best to go through a total withdrawal. Stevia is best tolerated as a sweetener.

Legumes: Avoid peanuts, beans and peas of all kinds, including string beans, lima beans, soy beans, baked beans, green peas, field peas, black-eyed peas, and vegetable gums. Soy bean protein ("textured protein") is hidden in a variety of manufactured foods. Read labels carefully.

Chocolate & cola-containing foods: Avoid chocolate and cola drinks of all kinds, including diet cola. Avoid all sweets, candies and foods to which chocolate has been added.

Meats: Avoid all forms of beef, pork and chicken, including luncheon meats, hot dogs, bacon, sausage and hamburger. Avoid all cold cuts. Avoid tenderized, spiced, processed or otherwise treated meat products of any kind. Most shrimp now sold in the USA is farmed in Asia and raised on human waste, antibiotics, etc.)

Fruits & Vegetables: Avoid white potatoes (even if the outside skin is red), French fried potatoes, potato chips and any food containing potato. Avoid tomato, corn, and rice. Avoid fresh, frozen or dried apples, oranges, and foods containing apple or citrus flavoring (which is often an artificial chemical). Avoid any other fruit or vegetable that was regularly eaten more often than once each week in the past.

Yeast-containing foods: Avoid breads, wine, vinegar, mushrooms, and dried fruits. Use only vitamins that are formulated to be yeast-free and hypoallergenic, without chemical additives or preservatives.

Coffee, tea & alcohol: Avoid all coffee and tea products (including instant and caffeine free). Also avoid herbal teas and all alcoholic beverages. Drink pure water, it’s good for you. Carbonated water, unsweetened but with all natural fruit flavor is acceptable.

Condiments: Avoid black, Cayenne. and any kind of hot pepper. Avoid onion, NutraSweet®, Equal® and aspartame, which are artificial chemical sweeteners. Beware of many spices that are mixtures of both labeled and unlabeled ingredients. Stevia as a sweetener is allowed, if a pure extract.

Monday, July 23, 2007

I heart Jemain and Bret

Don't you?

Think About It

There’s children on the street using guns and knives
Taking drugs and each other’s lives
Killing each other with knives and forks
Calling each other names like ‘dork’
There’s people on the street getting diseases from monkeys
Yeah, that’s what I said - they’re getting diseases from monkeys
Now there’s junkies with monkey disease
Who’s touching these monkeys, please
Leave these poor sick monkeys alone
They’ve got problems enough as it is.
Man’s lying on the street
Some punk’s chopped off his head
I’m the only one who stops
To see if he’s dead
Turns out he’s dead.
And that’s why I’m singing
What…what is wrong with the world today?
What is wrong with the world today?
(Jemaine mumbles)
What…what is wrong with the world today?
You gotta think about it
Think think about it.
Good cops been framed and put into a can.
All the money that we’re making is going to the man.
What man?
Which man?
Who’s the man?
When’s a man a man?
What makes a man a man?
Am I a man?
Yes. Technically I am.
They’re turning kids into slaves just to make cheaper sneakers.
But hat’s the real cost?
‘Cause the sneakers don’t seem that much cheaper.
Why are we still paying so much for sneakers
When you got them made by little slave kids
What are your overheads?
Well, at the end of your life, you’re lucky if die,
Sometimes I wonder why we even try.
I saw a man lying on the street half dead
With knives and forks sticking out of his leg.
And he said,
Can somebody get that knife and fork out of my leg, please?
Can somebody please remove these cutleries from my knees?”
And then we break it down.
This is where we break it down
This is where we break it down
This is where we do the whoa-o-o-o
Break it down
This is where we build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
We build it up now
Build it up
And then we stop

Flight of The Conchords

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

I am farmwife, hear me roar

Yesterday evening I took a chicken from cluck to pluck all by myself (okay, further than that, I also gutted it but that doesn't rhyme as well as pluck so if you don't like it, find me a better word). If you ever find yourself complaining about the price of free-range or pastured poultry, knock it off. It's a dirty, smelly job, and when you don't do it on a daily basis, it also takes a long time. So when you next enjoy a tasty wing or drumstick, say a silent thanks to the wage worker who killed and cleaned that bird. It's not a job most people would want to do regularly.

But damn, don't they taste good.

Wednesday, July 04, 2007

Monday, June 18, 2007

1-1/2-year sentence

"Bye, Dada!"

Friday, June 15, 2007


is what I imagine the ducks said when they saw the fox/opossum/racoon/whatever coming at them last night. It translates to "Why the hell did that madwoman force us to sleep outside the safety of the coop and bed down with these disgusting goats?"

It's because they constantly spilled all the water out of the fonts which led to constantly wet bedding, which led to respiratory disease, which led to Coccidiosis, which led to five (six? more?) dead broilers, two more sick ones, and a sick layer. So far.

So. I put them out thinking that they'd be safe and the chickens would get better and here I am with no more ducks. Fuck fuck fuckityfuckfuck.

So. No more ducks. None more.

And where the fuck is the trapper, already?

Monday, June 11, 2007


I complain. A lot. A whole lot. I know this. And I really do want to stop, because I hear myself and think, ""Who the hell wants to be around you, skeedge?" So when I heard about this, I thought to myself, "Self? Don't you think this would be a good thing to try?" And the answer, apparently, was yes. So I have my bracelet on even as we speak.

I expect it will take me a month of Sundays to get to 21 days. And that's okay. At least I'm giving it a shot, kwim? But the big question arises: what, exactly, is complaining? Is telling Perp (for the 52,495th time) to take off her shoes before she comes in the house, is that complaining? Of course me ranting about the goddamned dog burying her freaking toy at the base of my passionflower and killing it just as it was about to go into extravagant bloom is complaining, but I don't know many people who would hold it against me. But it still counts so I'm glad it happened yesterday.

So. Watch this space for complaint-free blogging!

As if.

PS, what, to you, constitutes complaining?

Saturday, June 02, 2007

Adam Scott totally stuffs

I only say this because FIL is here for dinner and he's a golf nut so we're watching the whatever-cup-or-tourney that's on today. And this Scott kid? Toooootally stuffing. I'm just saying. But maybe he's a mutant and should do porn, but he probably makes more money on these balls than he would with his own, so it's probably a wise career move.

But still. S T U F F I N G.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Unexpected visitors

I am determined to do some gardening for the fun of it this year, not just for the food of it. Even so, I was out weeding the future asparagus bed (bed for asparagus next year, not some futuristic Star Trek asparagus that bends you to its will with a gigantic butt-shaped head [seriously, they looked like butts, did they not?]). The first spring we were here I decided it was the perfect location for a permanent bed of some sort, and decided that strawberries are easy enough to come by, but asparagus, ahh... that's not so easy. Fresh asparagus kicks the stih out of anything you get at the store and even sometimes the farmers market, which I boycott anyway ('nother story for another day).

So. Hauled a ginormous tree out of the bed with the help of good old Hal (that lift gate can sustain a surprising load) and hopped in to commence the weeding. Cut out popple seedlings/young trees. Cut out whatever-the-hell-else is in there that isn't grass. Nip over to fill the wheelbarrow (bliss!) with wood chips and notice ... can it be? Am I seeing things? No! NO! Asparagus! I see a nearly-ferned out asparagus stem! OMIGOD, I SEE FIVE!

I put them in that first spring, then saw no signs of life (you know, how you put them in and cover them as they grow until the soil is all level about them?. I figured they were shot. So I didn't weed the bed for four years. Or fertilize them. Or mulch them.

But there they are, all the same. Five glorious stalks of the wily asparagus, once and again lending credence to my stance that if it can't take neglect it gots no business in my garden.

Happy dance!

Of course, it's too late in the season to eat them, and I didn't notice one of them before I hauled the tip off, so I cut that one back and I'll hope for the best. It seems to me that if it made it this far, it will pop back up in no time. Right? OF course it will. And next year I'll put in more. Or maybe it's still early enough to do it this year. Next weekend, perhaps. Mmmmm. Asparagus. Stinky pee.

Update: I cut them back just for the hell of it. Maybe they'll produce a few more stalks before I stop for the season. And maybe harvesting will stimulate them into thinking they should produce more, which would be nice since each crown currently only seems to have one measly stalk.

Cross your phalanges!*

*I know that isn't correct. I don't care.

Saturday, May 19, 2007

Left Bank Cheese Pie

Make this. You will like it.

9-inch pie crust
2 c. cottage cheese (the large-curd is creamier; do not use icky
low-fat cottage cheese)
2/3 c. sour cream
2 c. mashed potatoes
2 eggs, well beaten
1.5 tsp. kosher salt
3 Tbs. chopped oniion
3 Tbs. pimiento, chopped
1.5 Tbs. butter

Blend cottage cheese and sour cream. Beat in potatoes and all other
ingredients except the butter.

Dot the top of the pie with the butter.

Bake at 350 degrees for 1 to 1.25 hours, until filling has set.

This is terrific cold or at room temperature, so it's a wonderful dish
for eating outdoors at a picnic.

Friday, May 11, 2007

Day on the edge of forever

Did you ever trot off to the bathroom to go to poo and it seems like it takes f o r e v e r for the damn thing to come out, then you look in the pot and damned if it isn't only 2-3" long? That's how my day is going.

We leave for a child-free weekend in Las Vegas early this afternoon and if you will pardon me for saying so, I CAN'T FUCKING WAIT! Yes, I will miss the babies. Yes, I will be glad to come home and see them again (though I wouldn't mind a slightly longer trip), but damn do I need this. I'm snappy, on edge, even less patient than usual, and just all-around knackered.

Perp is already having a break imposed on her, Dude freaks out the second his feet hit the floor because that means I'm not holding him (my chiropractor loves that; keeps him in business), and I honestly think that my head is going to explode. I am fairly sure I do not have the cleaning products to deal with that. Also? I seem to have either stabbed myself under a fingernail or I have a seriously painful bruise. I hit it when I type. Fun!

So. Barring free access this weekend, I'm outy. I hope to return in a better frame of mind. Cross your phalanges, eh?

Monday, May 07, 2007

Further cementing her place as "animal least likely to live until spring."

The pig? She ate one of my ducklings. It is official: I will feel no remorse when she gets offed. But I will feel sated when I eat a large portion of her ass.

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Four years ago

today we were ensconsed at Caesars Palace, primping ourselves before we ran downstairs to get hitched. I was still waitng for my dress to come back from the cleaners. And waiting. Aaaand waiting. It finally arrived (uncleaned and unpressed) 15 minutes before the ceremony so we hustled downstairs and did 'er up right. And? Get this: I didn't freak out over the dress. Not even a little. I think the wedding coordinator wanted to cry. What the hell, if I bought into that "this is the most important/best/most memorable day of my life" crap, I was going to be in for a sorry sad life afterward. So I was all zen & shit and if the dress didn't come, I had a skirt.

But the dress came, and we skittered on down to the wee garden and had a lovely wedding. Then we traipsed off to dinner and watched our friends and family get loaded.


Happy anniversary, baby. I loves you the most.

Sunday, April 29, 2007

Her name is Breakfast

Now the boys need names.

If you could see

how FREAKING CUTE Dude is when he dances, well, I don't know, I think your ovaries would explode. Unless you have a different set of gonads in which case you would probably puke instead. Puke with joy!

He is especially fond of the goats (we need names, they're boys), and I'll post pictures tonight if I can get my shit together after I round them up for the night. He hugs them like they're dogs. He also hugs dogs. Fine, our dog.

They folllow us around like dogs, so it's no wonder he thinks they're for hugging. And really, since they're bottle babies, they kind of are for hugging. Squee!

Dude and Perp are recovering from a wicked case of pinkeye. Luckily, it seems to be bacterial so it's clearing up well with drops. Drops from hell. Hell Drops from hell. I can't believe how tight they can squeeze those little lids together. I remember when I was small and had to have several eye operations and the torture of the Hell Drops. So I can sympathize. Empathize, even. But I'm still giving them the drops.

A cow just waleked past on Signing Time: "She has nahnas*," observed Perp. The child is obsessed with the bo0bies.

*I have NO idea how to spell it. NAnas. Nahnas. Nanas?

Because I'm morbid

What horrible Edward Gorey Death will you die?

You will be sucked dry by a leech. I'd stay away from swimming holes, and stick to good old cement. Even if it does hurt like hell when your toe scrapes the bottom.
Take this quiz!

Quizilla |

Saturday, April 28, 2007

In which my stupidity continues to astound me

So. Today. Carlton swap. For those of you who don't know what that is (all but about 5, I'm guessing), it's this farmy free-for-all at which you can buy (as I recall): goats; pigs; chickens; ducks; geese; pigeons; peafowl; guineas; cattle; horses and ponies; llamas and alpacas; puppies and kittens. Also, baked goods, seedlings, and various random crap.

I showed up with a tarp spread out in the wayback, three large cages, and $200 cash. Safer that way, really.

Did you know that you can fit 9 chickens, two goats, and a pig in the back of a minivan? You can! My poor car will never be the same. Husband reminds me: and a bale of hay!

Here's why I'm an idiot: I was so wound up by the crowds of people I had to drive through/past, a freaked out Dude in his baby containment device Catherine wheel car seat, and oodles of caffeine on an empty stomach that I forgot to ask what the babies have been eating, whether they've been vaccinated, at what age they were neutered, etc. Dog help me. So cross all available digits that I'm not going to fuck up their rumens in a fatal kind of way, eh?

The pig? Same thing. But I think they're a bit more elastic when it comes to eating so I'm not as freaked out. But I do have to figure out if she's been vaccinated yet so I don't go doubling up on anything.

Hey, if you have any experience with the pigs or the goats, drop me a line, huh?

Also, if you have some name ideas for the kids (ha! kids! It's funny because it's true), we're still looking. I kind of like Adam and Steve because I'm all subversive & shit. Husband offered Stan and Kyle which I find pretty amusing. Right now they're just the boys.

I'll post pictures when I shoot some without naked chirrun in the frame. What IS it with babies and nakey butt, anyway?

Oh, also? I think that we officially qualify as a farm, so we gots to name it. If we had the appropriate geographical, er, apparatus, I'd call it Moot Point.

As you were.

Monday, April 09, 2007


If you're a praying type, please send one up for Abbi and her family.

Tuesday, April 03, 2007

What the hell, people?

My infernal computation device is giving me fits. I shut it down last night, turned it back on this morning, and now all the fonts and icons are fucked up. Some are too large, some are too small. It looks like the screen resolution was changed, but it says it's not changed.

I've tried adjusting the fonts and sizes, resolution, and messed with the options in Firefox. No go.

Also weirdness: it said that I'd installed new hardware, but I ain't. Also weirdly, it was related to video (video controller, VAG-compatible). I did not install a video controller. I'm supposed to insert a CD to load the driver but of course I have no such animal. I'm looking for a driver but I don't know whose controller it is. ...

No viruses. No malware. No weird security issues, at least that come up on scans.

Help? Help!

Ha HA! It was a driver that went walkabout for some reason. Everything *seems* to be better. I'll know tonight if that's the case. Thanks for the moral support, D.

This about sums it up


Guess I should have held off on planting those peas.

Monday, April 02, 2007

Car hell -now with photos!-

Last week: to dealer about battery that keeps crapping out on me and tire that keeps losing air.
"Have a seat, it'll be about an hour."
*trot off to waiting area. Surf on handy free intermanet.*
"Nothing wrong, see ya. Take the tire to Firestone, they're the only ones who can fix it."
*trot off to Firestone*
"Come back in two days and we can fix it or replace them. Lucky you, you have an extended warranty because the production run of these tires was for shite. But first go to the dealership so they can register the bad tires and do the warranty paperwork, then bring it back here."
*trot home. Two days later, go back to the dealership, and then Firestone*
"Hey, I smell a mouse, can you take a look while you've got it in the back?"
"Sure. It'll be 2-3 hours, we'll call you when it's done. Go to B&N and read."
*trot off to B&N to read*
Five hours later, "Yeah, we're almost done, we can pick you up in 15-30 minutes. Wait outside."
Wait outside. Cold. Wet. Windy.
Back to dealership to finish paperwork for warranty. "We don't smell a mouse."
"Huh. I could swear I ... Whatever. Kthxbye."
Today: coffee with a friend; notice car doesn't seem to have quite the power it should when passing on the bridge. After coffee, notice check engine and VSC lights are on. Call Husband: "Better take it in. It's under warranty." Agree, noting am already on the way.
*trot back to dealership* Notice that with gas pedal to the floor, car only makes it to about 30 mph with much effort on car's part. Hm. "Say. I think there's something wrong with my car." Explain 30 mph issue.
"I'll plug it into the computer." Gets computer, comes back. Repeat weirdness about speed/how car felt like it wanted to die climbing hill to dealership. "Oh. We can't use the computer for that. Go sit. We'll have a mechanic check it out."
*trot off to waiting room. Again. Entertain Dude for an hour. Ah yes, forgot to mention presence of 1 year old.*
"Yeah. Um. You have a GIANT mouse nest in your engine. (HA! -ed.) It ate through the wires which is why you can't go fast. Safety mode. Must replace wiring and [some part I can't remember]. Come look!"
Observe large quantity of insulation, grass, leaves, behind engine in location necessitating removal of many large parts. Of course.

Further notice nearly intact bird wing. Decorative touch?

"Good thing it's still under warranty! Tee hee."
"Yeah. Not for this kind of thing. Say, give us 4-5 hours and we'll fix it!"
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck." I have a toddler what needs a nap and entertainment. "Drive me to Husband's office and I'll take his car home."
"It's a deal!"
*trot to Husband's office, take his car home, weep on couch over impending repair bill and having to move pig of a carseat back into my car. Post my woeful story for all (some) to read and commiserate*

Hop to it!

Wednesday, March 21, 2007

Perpiversary III

Dear P,
You are three years old. Three! Years! Old! THREE! I am honestly not quite sure how that happend. You are only 1. Seriously, it seems like the last time I turned around you were 1 and now you're ... well, you're not.

Your personality continues to evolve, though you are as social as you ever were. Occasionally you will fall back when someone addresses you directly, but you generally flit about the room and chat with anyone who can be lured into a conversation. Generally it's about your birthday. "I'm free in March! But now I'm two! But I'm going to be free. In March!"

For your birthday, your grammy came up and made a gluten-free red velvet cake so that Dude and I could participate in the festivities. It looked like a blood sacrifice reminded me of a crime scene was a bit alarming.

You might even call it scary.

But shocking amounts of fat an artery-clogging combination an über tasty frosting of cream cheese, mascarpone, and cream hid the abbatoir aspect quite nicely. You seemed to appreciate the effort that went into it. At least into the frosting; you never seem too interested in cake or bread if it's covered in something sweet and gooey. If I had a dollar for every peanut butter and jelly sandwich you requested, only to find a denuded piece of bread, well I'd have at least ten bucks.

We are still astonished at your eating habits. There are very few things you won't eat, though you still go through periods of living on air for days at a time. You will request food, then give it a desultory stare and only drink your juice. I should probably cut it out entirely, the juice. I limit it to a few ounces a day, heavily watered, but your father Certain People I know give it to you straight, right out of the box. We run a classy joint here and serve our juice in boxes. Buster Bluth would weep for joy.

You continue to sleep with every toy under the sun. I check on you before I go to bed and there are nights when you barely have enough room for yourself. I suppose surrounding yourself with beloved objects helps you to sleep well -- well enough that you can fall out of bed head-first and not wake up -- but I can't stop myself from clearing you a small plot to curl up in where you won't gash your head open on a sharp corner.

I recently found you with your crayon container over your face. The entire inside was coated with condensation from your sweaty forehead (what is it with your people and the sweating? Is there a toddler that doesn't sleep sweat?). It's a wonder you haven't suffocated. Dammit, I'll get that Mother of the Year certificate yet.

You continue to say the funniest things. We drove past the local carwash recently and you said, "Is that the bathhouse?" Yes. And the cars? they go there to swap fluids willy nilly. Sometimes when we're asleep, ours head over there for an anonymous quickie.

You started school in January. Three days a week you ride in with your father in the morning and I pick you up after naptime in the afternoon. You make art, hear stories, play with friends, all the things you expect preschoolers to do. Best of all, though, you go out into the world and engage it on your own terms. You also get to spend the day with your boyfriend, which pleases you very much. Every morning when you arrive, he runs over to you and you hug and kiss each other. I have offered to bring the paperwork in to cement the relationship but the dowry doesn't seem to be satisfactory. I may toss in a few chickens to try and sweeten the deal.

I regret to say that your love of television continues unabated. It seems to be a meditative experience for you; sometimes we actually have to club you in the head shake you out of your trance turn the tv off to get you to respond to a question.

It's a bit unnerving.

Mostly, though, you are very engaged with the world, and notice things on a regular basis pass unseen right before my eyes. You can never go back and view the world through a child's eyes, but you can borrow them, as it were. It's like having my own service toddler. "Look," you shriek when you see the car dealership, "banoons!!" I never would have noticed them.

The cat continues to adore you unconditionally. I find this hard to fathom given the abuse you pile on her. You sit on her. You pull her tail. You chase her around. But every night, there she is, purring away like a tiny grey Evenrude. The dog is a bit less sanguine, but still remarkably tolerant of her lot in life. I'd sure as shit be pissed if I were in her shoes. Mostly that's my fault, though. Apparently I can only mother one species at a time semi-effectively.

You have started to sing songs that we actually recognize. The current favorite is something about having no bees upon oneself. I shudder at the thought. Given your reluctance to play in the mud or get too dirty, it's kind of funny to hear.

You also love to read. Maybe a bit too much.

I swear to God that is exactly how I found you.

It's been a crazy three years. It seems like only yesterday that you were a little pink lump I could leave on the couch while I lay there unconscious and drooling napped did the dishes.

We can't imagine what life would be without you, big girl.


Saturday, March 03, 2007


Dear A,

I'm at a loss. How has it been a year already? Wait: how has it only been a year? It's hard to believe that this time last year, you were only hours old and already suspicious.

You're starting to walk, which is freaking me the hell out. Luckily for everyone involved, you prefer to crawl, and man alive, can you haul ass. As you improve your walking skills, you have become more and more clingy, which I never thought possible. There have been days when you weren't even willing to go into your father's arms, which I suspect hurts his feelers a bit.

Your sister is passionately in love with you unless you are touching her toys. She'll tickle, cajole, hug, mash, and hit you, all in the space of five minutes. I hope that soon enough you will be a bit more able to defend yourself against her advances.

Your personality blossoms by the day. Watching it is one of the best experiences of my life. You are one of the most observant people I know. Unlike your sister, you wait and watch before making a move. I was not primed for a retiring child. I had spent nearly two years with a Vaudvillian after all; being presented with someone who didn't want to go to random strangers was beyond my ken. I think we've managed to get along quite nicely, though. You seem to like me okay.

When your father comes home from work, you go into a frenzy, "Ooooh! OOOOH! Ooh!" We speculate that you are part monkey, but the only way to be sure is to wait for the climbing phase. I would just as soon not experience the climbing phase. Give me a break on this one, okay?

There isn't much you won't eat, one thing you and your sister have in common.

Bathtime is also one of your pleasures now. Seriously? It took nearly a year for you to get into it, but now you can splash with the best of them. It's a bit ironic, since you were born into the water, but who am I to question your taste? As long as you don't start bringing Barney videos home. Then we'd have to have some kind of intervention.

Nursing is still going well. You seem to be as dedicated a nurser as your sister which pleases me inordinately. I know so many women who have a terrible time with nursing, so I count myself lucky that we're still slogging on.

Another thing you have in common with your sister is extraordinarily sensitive skin. I have yet to find a commercial lotion that doesn't cause you to break out in a hideous rash. In order to keep your skin from sloughing off like a snake's, I have started slathering you in olive oil. I worry a bit that you will like it so much that you will fall into a lifestyle that requires you to oil yourself up on a daily basis. I suppose if you work in tight quarters it would be okay.

I took you and your skin to Monica and she put us an elimination diet. Once I cut out grains (especially wheat, I think), soy, eggs, dairy, fun in general, your skin improved dramatically. Your skin has improved, and I don't mean over the course of a few weeks, I mean within three days. It's really quite amazing. I think we still have an item or two we need to cut out, because four weeks into this you still have some patches of eczema. I think it's either nuts or mangoes, and cutting either out of my diet is going to make me cry. A lot. But it's worth it, and it gives me something to bitch about, so that's a plus.

When it's time for bed at the end of the day, we sit and I rock while you nurse. In the warm dark, we sway to and fro and you settle from a long day of babying. Sometimes you reach up and stroke my face as you begin to doze. And just before I put you into your crib, you rest on my shoulder and press your cheek against mine. I close my eyes and try to remember back to just a year ago, and it's a blur. I can only imagine how fast this next year will fly.

You bring such joy to our hearts, baby boy. Happy birthday.


Friday, March 02, 2007

My tunes

It's all here. I haven't held anything back, even though I probably should

A Flock of Seagulls
AC Newman
Adam Ant
Adam Richman
Aimee Mann, Michael Penn
Al Green
Alabama 3
Alexi Murdoch
Alicia Keys
Alison Krauss
and one
Andrés Segovia
Andrews Sisters with Vic Schoen & His Orchestra
The Andrews Sisters
The Andrews Sisters
Andy Russell
Ani DiFranco
Ani DiFranco & Aimee Mann
Another Bad Creation
Antonio Vivaldi
Aphex twin
Aretha Franklin
Arrested Development
Artie Shaw Orchestra
Asha Bhonsle, Udit Narayan, Vaishali & Chorus
Asian Dub Foundation
Avril Lavigne
Backstreet Boys
Bad English
Bad Religion
Bally Sagoo
Bally Sagoo & Hans Raj Hans
The Bangles
The Be Good Tanyas
The Beastie Boys
The Beat
The Beatles
Bebel Gilberto
Becky Barksdale
Bela Fleck
Ben Folds Five
Benny Goodman & His Orchestra
Bet Williams
Beth Hart
Betty Hutton
Big Country
Bill Monroe & His Bluegrass Boys
Billie Holiday
Billy Bragg
Billy Joel
Billy Miles
Bing Crosby
Black Eyed Peas
Blossom Dearie
Blue Merle
Blue Swede
Bo Didley
Bob Dorough & Others
Bob Marley
Bob Mould
Bobby Byrd
Boho Zen
Bonnie Somerville
Boomtown Rats
Bowling For Soup
Boys Don't Cry
Boyz II Men
Brad Pitt
Brad Sucks
Brain Failure
Brand New Heavies
Brian McKinight
The Brian Setzer Orchestra
Bruce Springsteen
Bryan Ferry
Buck Owens
Buddy Holly & The Crickets
The Buggles
Burt Bacharach & Elvis Costello
Busta Rhymes
Cab Calloway/Blues Brothers
The Caesars
Caitlin McEwan
Call and Response
Camper Van Beethoven
The Canadian Brass
Carey Brothers
Carla Bruni
The Cars
Cat Stevens
The Centurions
Chamber Orchestra Of Europe / James Galway
Charles Aznavour
Charley Pride
Charlie Barnet & Orchestra
China Crisis
Christina Aguilera
Chuck Berry
Cibo Matto
Clann Zú
Climie Fisher
Clint Black
Cock Robin
Cocteau Twins
Colin Hay
Cookie Monster
Cowboy Mouth
Crispian Steele Perkins . Fraiser/English Chamber Orchestra
Crowded House
Culture Club
Daler Mehndi
Damn Yankees
Dan Zanes
Danya River
Dave Carter And Tracy Grammer
Dave Lindley and El Ray-o X
Dave Matthews
David Allen Coe
David Bowie
David Gray
David Grisman
David Lee Roth
The Dazzband
De La Soul
Dead Eye Dick
Dead Meadow
Dean Martin
Dean Wormer
Deana Carter
The Dears
Death Cab For Cutie
Debbie Harry
Del Amitri
Dennis Edwards
Des'ree/Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Desi Funk
Dexy's Midnight Runners
Diana Ross
Dick Dale & The Del-Tones
Dick Haymes
Digital Underground
Dinah Shore
Dire Straits
Dirty on Purpose
Dixie Chicks
Dizzee Rascal
Dolly Parton & Emmy Rossum
Don Nelson
Donald Fraiser . English Chamber Orchestra
Donna Regina
The Doors
Doug Sahm & the Sir Douglas Quintet
Dr. Dre & Snoop Dogg
The Dream Academy
Duke Ellington
Duran Duran
Dusty Springfield
Dwight Yokum
Echo & The Bunnymen
Echoes Of Nature
Eddie Kendricks
Eddy Grant
The Edgerton's Pen Conspiracy (EPC)
Edie Brickell & The New Bohemians
Edith Piaf
Edvard Grieg
Edwin Starr
Electric Light Orchestra
Ella Fitzgerald
Ella Johnson
Ella Mae Morse
Elvis Costello
Emmy Rossum
Emmylou Harris
En Vogue
The Epochs
Errore Stratta . Baroque Orchestra of Europe
Eve 6
The Faces
Fat Joe
Felix Mendelssohn
Fischer Z
Five for Fighting
The Fixx
Flatt and Scruggs
Fleetwood Mac
The Flirts
The Format
Fountains of Wayne
The Four Tops
France Gall
Frank Sinatra
Frank Zappa
Frankie Laine
Fred Astaire
Freedy Johnston
Frou Frou
The Fucking Champs
The Fun Boy Three
Gabriel Faure
Gang Of Four
Ganstarr & Macy Gray
The Gap Band
Gavin DeGraw
Gene Krupa Orchestra
General Public
George Baker
George Jones
George Thorogood
The Georgia Satellites
Gillian Welch
Gladys Knight & The Pips
Glenn Miller
The Go-Go's
Go West
Graig David
Grammar Rock
Grateful Dead
Great Buildings
Green Day
Greg Kihn Band
Greg Schwartz
Guided By Voices
Haircut 100
Hall & Oates
Harry James & His Orchestra
Harry Nilsson
Harvey Danger
Haysi Fantayzee
Heather Headly
Heather Nova
Heaven 17
Helen Forest
Helen O'Connell
The Hives
The Honorary Title
Hoodoo Gurus
Hope 7
Hudson Klass & Dan Klass
Huey "Piano" Smith & The Clowns
Huey Lewis & The News
Human League
Human Sexual Response
Husker Du
Ian Dury & The Blockheads
The Icicle Works
The Infinity Room
Information Society
Ink Spots
Irene Cara
Iris Dement
Iron & Wine
J. Geils Band
Jack Johnson
The Jackson 5
Jackson Browne
Jake La Botz
The Jam
James Galway & Zagreb Soloists
The James Gang
James Levine . Ravinia Orchestra
Jan Hammer
Jane Birkin
Jane Child
Jason Mraz
Jay Farrar
Jay Howlett
Jean-Luc Lahaye
Jeannie C. Riley
Jeff Tweedy & Jay Farrar
Jeffrey Foucault
Jeffrey Gaines
Jermaine Jackson
Jerree Small
Jerry Garcia-David Grisman
Jessi Colter
Jessica Harper
Jesus Jones
Jethro Tull
Jimmy Cliff
Jimmy Dorsey & His Orchestra featuring vocals by Bob Eberly & Helen O'Connell
Jimmy Eat World
Jimmy Ruffin
Jo Stafford
Jo Stafford With Paul Weston & His Orchestra
Joe Cocker
Joe Jackson
Joe Tex
Joe Walsh
Johann Pachelbel
Johann Sebastian Bach
John Belushi
John Hoskinson
John Legend
John Mayer
John Prine
John Vanderslice
John Waite
Johnnie Ray
Johnny Gill
Johnny Hallyday
Johnny Hates Jazz
Johnny Lee Hooker & Blues Brothers
Johnny Mercer
Johnny Mercer & The Pied Pipers
The Johnston Brothers
Jon Brion
Jonathan Coulton
Joshua Bell, Edgar Meyer, Sam Bush, Mike Marshall
Joy Division
Juice Newton
Jules Shear
Julian Bream
Julien Clerc & Carla Bruni
k.d. lang
Kaiser Chiefs
Karen Jacobsen
Karl Münchinger; Stuttgart Chamber Orchestra
Kate Bush
Kate Ryan
Katrina & The Waves
Kay Kaiser & His Orchestra
Kay Kyser
Keely Smith & Louis Prima
Keith Burns
Kelly Clarkson
Kelly Willis & Jay Farrar
Kelly Willis & Son Volt
Killer Pussy
Kim Wilde
The Kingbees
The Kinks
Kishore Kumar-Mohd.Rafi
Klark Kent
The Knack
Kool & The Gang
Kris Delmhorst
Kris Kristofferson - Willie Nelson - Lyle Lovett
Kris Kross
Kuldip Manak and Panjabi MC
Kyle Riabko
Ladysmith Black Mambazo
Larry Zarella
Lata Mangeshkar
Laurie Berkner
The Lawrence Arms
Lefty Frizzell & Shelly West
Les Brown & His Orchestra featuring vocals by Doris Day
Les Negresses Vertes
Lionel Hampton
Lionel Richie
The Lively Ones
Living In A Box
Lorenzo's Music
Loretta Lynn
Los Lonely Boys
Louie Prima w/Keely Smith
Louis Armstrong
Louis Jordan
Louis Prima
Luigi Boccherini
Lyle Lovette
Maceo & The Macks
Madeleine Peyroux
Malkit Singh
Man Bites God
Manda and the Marbles
Marc Von Em
Maria McKee
Mark Lemhouse
Mark Lizotte
Mark Mothersbaugh
Marlene Dietrich
Maroon 5
Marshall Crenshaw
Martha & The Muffins
Martha Reeves
Martha Tilton
The Marvelettes
Marvin Gaye
Mary Prankster
Mary Wells
Mason Jennings
Massive Attack
Matchbox Twenty
Mates of State
Matt Vrba
Matthew Sweet
MC Lars
MC Solaar
Melissa Etheridge
Men At Work
Merle Haggard
Michael Lord
Michael Penn
Michael Sembello
Michel Sardou & Garou
Michelle Shocked
Mike Meyers
The Mills Brothers
Miriam Makeba
Missing Persons
misty's big adventure
Modern English
Modest Mouse
Mohammed Rafi
Money Rock
The Monroes
Monsoon Wedding
The Motels
The Nails
Naked Eyes
Natacha Atlas
Naughty By Nature
Nelly Furtado
New Irish Chamber Orchestra / James Galway
New Pornographers
Nick Drake
Nick Lowe
Nikka Costa
Norah Jones
Now is Now
Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
Of Montreal
Old 97s
Opus De Salsa
Orchestral Manoeuvres In The Dark
The Originals
Otis Redding
Pattern Is Movement
Patty Loveless
Paul Metsa
Paul Simon
Paul Young
Pedro The Lion
Peggy Lee
Pérez Prado
Perry Como
Pete Shelley
Pete Townsend
Peter Gabriel
Peter Himmelman
Peter Mayer
Peter Schilling
PG Six
The Pied Pipers
Pinchas Zuckerman & English Chamber Orchestra
Pink Floyd
Plain White T's
The Pogues
The Polecats
The Police
Polyphonic Spree
Porter Wagoner & Dolly Parton
The Postal Service
The Power Station
The Pretenders
Pretty Girls Make Graves
The Psychedelic Furs
Punjabi MC
Radoslav Lorkovic
Rail Gaddi
Ralph Stanley, Ricky Skaggs, Keith Whitley, Roy Lee Carters
Randy Newman & Lyle Lovett
Ray Charles
Real Life
Rebirth Brass Band
Red Hot Chili Peppers
Reeltime Travelers
Remy Zero
Reverend Horton Heat
Rhett Miller
Richard Westenburg/Musica Sacra
Rick James
Rickie Lee Jones
Ricky Nelson
Ricky Scaggs
Robert Walch
Robyn Hitchcock & The Egyptians
The Rolling Stones
The Romantics
The Roots
Rosanne Cash
The Rosewood Fall
Roy Rogers
Rubber Rodeo
Rudolf Baumgartener . Festival Strings of Lucenrne
Rufus Wainwright
Runner & The Thermodynamics
S-K (with Calvin Johnson)
Sam & Dave
Sam Cooke
Sandy Rogers
Sara Evens
Sarah McLachlan
Saves The Day
Savina Yannatou
School House Rock
Scritti Politti
Shawn Colvin
The Shins
Sigue Sigue Sputnik
Simon & Garfunkel
Single Bullet Theory
Sloan Wainwright
Slow Children
Sly Fox
Smashing Pumpkins
The Smear Campaign
The Smithereens
The Smiths
Smokey Robinson & The Miracles
Sneaker Pimps
Soft Cell
The Soggy Bottom Boys
Solomon Burke
Solomon Burke & Little Johnny Taylor
Son Volt
The Song Spinners
Sophie B. Hawkins
Southern Culture On The Skids
Spandau Ballet
Sparks & Jane Wiedlin
The Specials
Split Enz
Stan, Cartman and Kyle
The Statler Brothers
Steely Dan
Stereo Nation
Stevie Nicks
Stevie Wonder
Stray Cats
Stray Cats
Stuart Davis
Sugar Cubes
The Sundays
Sweet Honey In The Rock
Taking Back Sunday
Talk Talk
Tall Tales And True
Tammy Wynette & George Jones
Tchaikovsky, Peter Ilyich
Tears For Fears
Teena Marie
The Temptations
Tex Beneke & The Modernaires
They Might Be Giants
Thievery Corporation
This Mortal Coil/Elizabeth Fraser
Thomas Dolby
The Thompson Twins
Tim Eriksen And Riley Baugus
Timbuk 3
Tom Petty
Tomaso Albinoni
Tommy Dorsey And Orchestra
Tompall Glaser
Tonio K.
Tony Bennett
Tony Martin
Toots and the Maytals
The Tornadoes
Total Coelo
Tracy Bonham
Trevor Bacon
Trip Shakespeare
Trout Fishing in America
The Tubes
Uncle Tupelo
Urge Overkill
Ustad Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan
The Valets
Van Halen
Van Morrison
The Vapors
Vaughn Monroe and The Norton Sisters
The Verve
The Vibro Champs
Victor Spinetti
Violent Femmes
Viva Voce
Vladimir Spiakov . Moskow Virtuosi
Wall Of Vodoo
Warren Zevon
The Waterboys
Waylon Jennings
Wendy Gelsanliter
The Wes Hollywood Show
When In Rome
The White Stripes
White Zombie
The Who
Willie Nelson
The Willowz
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart
Wolfgang Rübsam
Woody Herman & Orchestra
Yonder Mountain String Band
Young MC
Yves Montand
Zero 7

Snow day

We got a little snow overnight.

Upstairs view:

She's standing here. On her feet.
With snowshoes:

Out our hall window:


luuurves his doggie

Tuesday, February 27, 2007

Things I never thought I'd hear on network tv

"The vagina is a self-cleaning oven. You don't want to put anything in there."

Go Navy

I'm rather pleased to see that someone is visiting from San Diego. How's the weather? I'd like a box of See's, please. Dark. Two pounds. Thanks!

I often wonder about various employers' rules on using their computers for personal purposes. I'm pretty sure that my last job changed theirs after several people in my department got screwed ass raped spanked. ahem.

I kind of figure if the job is getting done, then letting an employee waste a little time isn't a problem. In fact, I suspect that letting them do so is wise. But I don't have workers so I could be talking out my ass. <---- yeah, that one.

Anyway, hi! Hello! Welcome aboard!

Monday, February 26, 2007

Back in bidness

So. We have this well. It's 500 (five HUNDRED) feet deep. Waaaaay down in the murky depths, near the bottom, a wire wore through and shorted the pump out. Our lovely well guy came out and spent 6 hours on a cold, snowy Saturday fixing it all for us. So I can do laundry. And bathe. You know, fun stuff.


Friday, February 23, 2007

Well, well, well

Ours doesn't seem to be working.

Okay technically we think it's the pump but still. So we've decamped and are squatting at Husband's parents' place. Where they have water. Which one can use to flush a toilet, say. Or bathe oneself. Or make smashed potatoes and carrots (nummers!).

Nothing to do with our lack of water:
Last night we were watching Grey's Anatomy and I was saying that there are only a couple of us on my moms' board who think the show has jumped the shark and that most everyone else was clucking about how great the last few episodes were (you know, the Huge Disaster! OMG Meredith is drowning! one).

I said, "There are only a few of us who think it's time to dump the show."
In his best 8-year-old boy voice, "Girls are stoopid."

Weather Dude (welcome back, George!) says 8-10" of snow by Sunday night. That means we're only about 25" short for the year. sigh

Husband Officially Sucks because he's eating ice cream (and chocolate) in front of me while I'm on an elimination diet. Fucker. I'm going to smear the rest with dog shit and see if he notices.

Wednesday, February 21, 2007

Solve for Y

y = (Brand new camera x gravity) + scissors

LCD screen

Sunday, February 18, 2007

Elimination procrastination

I finally went to my midwife to plan out an elimination diet for me and the Dude. I took both kids in for RAST draws and they both came back entirely negative (at least for the things we though of). Yet I was still sure that there was a dietary component, especially since Dude's skin got so much worse after I got the greenlight from the allergist and stopped monitoring what he ate.

Now, on day 4 of a fairly extensive elimination diet, I can already see a difference in his skin. Crazy! His cheeks, which always had a weird, rosy color that should have been cute but wasn't, have cleared up and are nearly blemish free. The weird scaliness on his torso is almost gone. His legs are still sketchy and he hasn't lost the antecubital eczematous patches but even they seem to be a little better. I suppose the primary culprit is wheat. It's too soon for me to be rid of any dairy, I think. I haven't had much with eggs in it, and no actual whole eggs for several weeks. Peanut butter? Probably a few weeks ago.

I was pretty sure wheat was a prblem from early on but I never thought to cut it out of MY diet, so when I took it out of his and didn't see a difference, I shrugged and gave him a cracker. sigh

Stay tuned for updates as they come up.

Monday, February 12, 2007

A change gonna come

Masher's body is starting to failing her; she has cataracts on both eyes, and I rather suspect her hearing isn't what it used to be.

Last night Perp was doing her hugkiss routine: "Hugkiss donkey; hugkiss stove; hugkiss piano; hugkiss Masher." Mashy was curled up in her wee bed and Perp clambered over the side to deliver the goods and M lurched up and snapped. One small, single-drop-of-blood scratch and a broken heart. Hard way to end the day, man.

It's totally not the dog's fault, but she's out of the hugkiss circle now.


Monday, February 05, 2007

Spare a hankie?

God 2, Heathens 1

Husband's parents are devout Catholics. As it is in many homes across this great country of ours, my in-laws begin most meals with a prayer. Perp has learned to sit with her hands in standard prayer position and yell "AMEN!" at the end. I suspect she will be leading the prayer in a few short years. It's remarkably cute and I hope that she is able to develop a framework of faith that gets her through hard times. I really do. I don't ever see it happening to her parents, but it'll be a great way to separate herself from us, heathens that we are.

Imagine my horror (and, I'll admit it, hysterical laughter) when she started shrieking, "OH MY GOD! OH MY GOD!" whenever, well, whenever she felt like it. The first time was after she discovered that if she tossed her big rubber ball up the stairs it would bounce back down and smack her in the face, if she stood in just the right spot. Oh bliss! oh rapture unforseen!

Lately, it's popping up in odder circumstances. I can't even think of one off the top of my head, sadly. But her inflection is perfect, astonishment mixed with elation, like she's just won the toddler lottery: access to every drawer and cabinet in the house.

Most Saturdays I go to the local yarn shop and attend a stitch & bitch. It's a nice break, we chat and snack and get all crafty and shit. I'm even resurrecting my long-dead aspirations to be a knitter. I'll keep you updated; I konw you're dying to hear about it.

As I was leaving the house, I heard Perp shouting from the bottom of the stairs. It was a chant that I think Husbands parents would swell with pride to hear. Who knows, maybe she'll be leading dinnertime prayer sooner than I thought:


Tuesday, January 30, 2007

Look back in anger

Please read this. Then go and read the Lamott piece as well.

Between them they say more than I ever can hope to, and far better. Know, also, that anger is okay. It's how you express it that makes the difference. It's my new project, working on my anger. I'll let you know how it goes. But don't expect me to be cheery about it.

Three little steps to a better you

Dude took his first staggering steps last night, lunging at me like a drunk on a treadmill. DH made it into the room to see it, and we held each other and sobbed like a couple of drunks. What else are you supposed to do when someone with no (common) sense and no concept of danger decides it's time to start waltzing around the house? And? It was SO freaking CUTE.

He did it again today for his grammy. Happily, he still seems to prefer four-wheeling it, so for now I'm just going to pretend it never happened. Lalalalalalalalalalala! Tralalala! You see? I sing like a bird to celebrate my ability to deny the facts even though they stare me in the face. And try to jab me in the eyes with sticky fingers.

My new heroes

heroines? Whatever.

Monday, January 29, 2007

DH on meds

Husband has been given a prescription for his heartburn; I'm glad because it's about time, and seriously? guys don't do sick too well. But I'm so pleased with him for even going to the doctor that I don't diss him for it as I should. Much.

He just came in and asked whether he should take the dose he missed this morning. I said that the next dose is far enough in the future that he should probably just pop today's now and go on his merry way. Because I'm a doctor. No, really, I am, I just haven't gone to school for it. But really, you should take the pill. On time. Every day.

"Good thing I'm not a girl; I'd be pregnant a lot."

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Goodbye, Grammy Sue

My dad just called. When I saw the caller ID, I knew what he was going to say. And I knew when I talked to her the day before yesterday that the call would be coming soon. I just didn't think it would be this soon.

She was a fiesty old bird who rarely had a cross word to say about anyone (one of the most shocking moments in my life was when she called my cousin's ex-wife "a four-square bitch.").

For years, I planned on interviewing her, taping her, to hear her story. She saw more change in her lifetime than I think any of us can even dream of: Commercial airlines. Jet engines. Antibiotics. Birth control pills. Cures for diseases that killed thousands but are now considered an inconvenience. AIDS. Space flight. Republicans in both houses (she HATED that). The end of smallpox. The 1918 flu. The reduction of TB to a treatable disease. The rise of drug-resistant TB. Microwave ovens. Air conditioners. Cars and houses that are affordable for all but the poorest people in the country. World War II (my grandfather was in Patton's Second Army). The Korean war. Vietnam. Nixon. Fluorescent bulbs. No smoking in the workplace.

I could go on and on.

Now, it's too late. I always thought there would be another opportunity. Another chance to delve into her history, to ask what she made of everything she saw in her life, more time to just talk.

I called her on Tuesday and I just knew. She was dying. Her body was giving out on her even though her mind was just as sharp as ever.

I told her that I would call her again today. While I was putting my daughter down for her nap, my grandma slipped away.

Call your family. Tell your friends you love them. Don't wait until there's no more time.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Buddy, can you spare a crime?

Somehow or other I've gotten onto a list of suckers people who donate to random charities. I have no idea how, since I haven't had a job since Perp was about 3 months old, and really, if I'm going to give money away, I'll choose the charity thankyouverymuchHeiferInternational*koff*.

The thing that outrages me is that they call and say, "This is Heywood Jablome from Random Widows and Orphans Charity That Sounds Official. I'd like to thank you for your generous support last year to RWOCTSO."

A) I have never heard of RWOCTSO.
B) I sure as hell didn't give you any money last year (sorry, orphans!)
C) If I HAD money, it would go to a reputable organization that, you know, I've heard of.
D) What the fuck?

I get the same call from the same guy for the firefighters retirement charity. WTF? Working for local government doesn't get you some kind of retirement benefits? Find another job, dude.

Am I a hardass here? I don't think so. I think calling up and conning people into donating based on a fictional previous donation is unethical if not illegal. Oh, fine, it's probably not illegal, but it should be. Lying to potential donators to either embarrass or cajole them into giving their money away to an organization that exists to fill a need that the supposed receipients' employer fills? There's a special place in the IRS's corner of hell for you guys.

Next time they call, and I know they will, I'm going spider monkey.

Friday, January 19, 2007

And the winnner is

My 3500th page view goes to ....

Dyke One! (Unless Dyke Two is home and checking me out [mrrowr]).

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

Who knew?

You are the World

Completion, Good Reward.

The World is the final card of the Major Arcana, and as such represents saturnian energies, time, and completion.

The World card pictures a dancer in a Yoni (sometimes made of laurel leaves). The Yoni symbolizes the great Mother, the cervix through which everything is born, and also the doorway to the next life after death. It is indicative of a complete circle. Everything is finally coming together, successfully and at last. You will get that Ph.D. you've been working for years to complete, graduate at long last, marry after a long engagement, or finish that huge project. This card is not for little ends, but for big ones, important ones, ones that come with well earned cheers and acknowledgements. Your hard work, knowledge, wisdom, patience, etc, will absolutely pay-off; you've done everything right.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

Thanks to mama WEG for clueing me in.

Monday, January 15, 2007

Just heard on NPR

"Secretarian differences"

What, one side prefers staples and the other likes paper clips?

The Dude, he loves his boobies. Almost as much as his daddy, so I guess we know where it comes from. He squeezes, mashes, pats, strokes, twiddles, and fondles. Sometimes it's cute, even endearing. But a good part of the time, like when I'm up at 3 or 3:30 or 4, and he just wants to nursenursenurse, it can get kind of annoying. I know that I will lok back on this and miss it, but right now? It bugs.

Top that off with Perp nursing 3, 4, 12 times a day and you have potential for Cranky Mama syndrome. I don't like being Cranky Mama. But I don't want to force her to wean, so I suck it up.

Hey! I made a funny. What are the odds.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

On informed consent

At the outset, let me state that I firmly believe most Americans do more research before they buy a car than they do on their own health care. Not only is it a shame, I think it's scandalous and I can't believe no one makes a bigger fuss over it. What the fuck, people? It's YOUR body. Get to know it. Take charge of its care and feeding. Well, maybe not so much with the feeding (as she mows her way through another Lindt truffle).

This being said, it can be really, really hard, perhaps bordering on impossible, to obtain true informed consent. For most people, the word of their doc is good enough and is easily traded for personal knowledge. So maybe it shouldn't be a surprise to me that Average Joe knows more about the 50" plasma tv he's about to buy than the flex sig he's to undergo Tuesday next.

When I was pregnant with Perp, I had crazy frequent Braxton Hicks contractions from fairly early on, around 19w, give or take. I had no previous experience with pregnancy, and you could say I wasn't entirely in tune with my uterus unless it was involved in its favorite, complicated sloughing procedure. So I trotted off to L&D to be monitored.

Nice Nurse checked me and there was no cervical change, nothing to indicate anything was Going On Down There, but had me wait for a doc to be sure. I leafed through a magazine and half-heartedly watched the montior from time to time. It is oddly hypnotizing, I'll admit.

Young Intern flapped her stick arms in distress when she saw my contraction pattern (every 2-4 minutes, which I could have told her, had she asked).

She scuttled off to kibbutz with the resident and came back an hour later (I shit you not, there was no one in labor and everyone else was chilling at the nurses' station) she came back and declared I needed "a medicine to relax your uterus and stop it from contracting." Despite no cervical change. "It will make your heart beat kind of fast and you may feel a little woozy." Because it's an asthma medication. Off-label. Not approved for obstetrical use.

Do you know anyone who takes Neurontin for peripheral neuropathy? Did you know it was tested and approved as an epilepsy drug?

Methotrexate? Approved for treating neoplastic disease. But not chemical abortions. Or multiple sclerosis.

How was I supposed to give consent? I accepted the terb based on the information I was given. It never occured to me to ask if the drug was approved for my use; I just assumed it was. Why would I think otherwise? I had no access to anything supporting or contradicting her claim. All I had was her word and her limited, get-the-patient-to-agree spiel. She made me believe the pregnancy was in jeapordy. She swayed me with fear.

So I accepted and she gave me the shot. And when I got home and looked it up, I was beyond pissed that she would gloss over several important facts regarding its use, and present it as necessary despite clear indications that it wasn't.

How are patients supposed to wade through the morass of selective information so many docs offer? I am not, of course, suggesting that all docs are like this. And I understand that expediency is important. But it is equally important, if not moreso, that patients understand what is truly at stake. What the true risks are. Whether the drug has even been tested for this particular use or if it's being prescribed because someone noticed a salutory effect and hey, why not use it that way even if we don't KNOW it's okay for this patient group (hello*, Femara)? Aren't indications listed for a reason? Isn't testing done for a reason?

I'd love to be able to say that evidence-based medicine is the answer but of course, women are chronically under-researched. Even in obstetrics, apparently. When 1 in 5 prescriptions is written for nonapproved use, perhaps it's time we included the patient in the equation and asked how they felt about being part of an uncontrolled experiment.

*I'll give you a nice prize if you can find mention of letrozole's approved use on that site.