Baby Mama

I got lucky this holiday season.  Two weeks off of work! I had big plans that included doing a lot of nothing.  A slothful break from every day routine was definitely in my book, that is, until I received an email from a local dog rescuer who was in need of a foster home for a puppy.  We haven't fostered a dog since we adopted our last foster, turning our two dogs into a happy, unstoppable pack of three.  But this puppy, oh this puppy was adorable.  A 10 week old white pitbull baby with the sweetest puppy dog eyes stared out longingly at me, begging me to be her foster mama.  Plus, with a pending two week vacation and no set plans, it would be the perfect situation to train her.  Knowing that I'd have to convince my husband, I casually mentioned it to him then stategically showed him her picture.  It worked, he was hooked right along with me and soon plans were set into motion and a date was set for her arrival the following sunday.

Having raised 3 puppies in the last 5 years, I had no misguided notions about the work that puppies require, not to mention that we had no idea how our 3 dogs would adapt to a puppy in the house.  What I was not prepared for was how attached I would become to this little darling.  Lilly, arrived at our house on a rainy cold evening.  She looked so much smaller that her pictures.  All white with black spots on her ears and nose, she sported a pink little coat and shivered in the freezing wind as we tried to get her to pee before coming inside.  Her little tail wagged and wagged as we petted her, cooing over her sweet little muffine face. 

After a nervous introduction with our dogs, it was quickly determined that not everyone was going to get along.  Out came the baby gate, separating the kitchen from the dining room, creating a safe place for Lilly to roam without fear of becoming dinner. Our female, Huckleberry, instantly took to Lilly and donned the momma bear role as if she'd raised puppies all her life.  Our life settled right into the new routine of taking Lilly out to pee every 20 mins or so, supervising play time, crate training, making sure our dogs got their share of attention, and discouraging biting (damn puppy teeth are sharp!).  At night after Lilly was in her crate and all the dogs asleep, I dropped into bed completely exhausted. Luckily for us, Lilly slept through the night with no accidents so a good nights sleep was a given.  Her favorite thing to do was to crawl into bed to snuggle with Warren before breakfast.  She insisted upon it and would not eat until she had cuddle time. 

Of course Lilly had many suitors who called to inquire about her and a couple of people even came to meet her.  As carefully as we screened potential adopters, it was Lilly who told us who she wanted to be her forever family.  It turned out to be a young couple, way to young we thought at first.  But Lilly insisted and the couple turned out to be just what Lilly needed.  Both were raised with pit bulls and other dogs, and were very knowledgeable about the breed.  They had just bought a house and the girl had always wanted an all white pitbull, which apparently are not that common.  Lilly bonded with them right away, just as we did.  After passing a home visit and an intense application interview process, everyone new these folks would be her forever family.

Lilly's new parents came to pick her up on the last day of my vacation.  It was tearful, full of hugs, promises to keep in touch and laughter.  As they drove away with Lilly, I knew I'd done my job.  We gave Lilly a little over 2 weeks of constant love, training, and socialization.  Just what she needed to be able to start her life on four solid paws.  We will miss her as she etched out a piece of our hearts just for her.   But it feels so good knowing that another dog has a forever home and another dog will be loved and cared for forever. 

In the end, my slothful vacation days were much more action packed that I had planned.  Bein a baby mama takes a lot of work, focus and time.  Yet when I returned to work the next day, I was fulfilled and in a good place knowing that as a bonafide dog rescuer, I had done only what I could have done, and that was to open my heart and home to a dog in need.

Purveyor of Stories

Anyone who says they have only one life to live must not know how to read a book.

~Author Unknown

Two years ago, I began riding the train to work. Granted there were buses I could have taken previously but those involved transferring and other interruptions and, this new train route boasted a full uninterrupted 40 minutes ride each way while dropping me off and picking me up in front of my place of employment. I couldn't resist for very good reasons. One was to save on parking costs downtown, of course and my job pays for a significant portion of my train pass so it was a good budgetary move. But the real reason was, the train ride to and from work would allow me to luxuriate for 80 minutes in my favorite pastime - reading books.

There you have it. I am a book junkie. I guess there are worse things to be addicted to. During extreme episodes of jonesing, I've been known to sneak into the bathroom stalls at work just to get in two or three pages of my latest paperback. In fact, if the book was good enough, I'd put off fixing dinner, doing laundry, walking the dogs and whatnot, just to delve fully into my reading. What is it inside of me that is so twisted that I would prefer living vicariously through the lives of the characters in my books, all the while reaping the benefits of their happiness, crying with them in their twisted sorrows, feeling their pain, frustration, terror and injustices?

I've been reading books since literally, the day I could read. Wintry, snowy nights of my childhood were spent with all members of the family curled up comfortably in every nook and cranny of the house, each of us lost in our stories, oblivious to the world around us. A lot of the books I read are recommended by friends or family but when I buy a book or pick one out at the library, I read the back cover. If that along with the title speaks to me, I go on to read the first couple sentences of the first chapter. If that grabs me, I'm hooked and the book is mine. I'll read anything but I prefer rich novels that span generations or book series whose central plot defies accepted norms. Then there's the 'why did i just read that' books. Tales that were unexpectedly or otherwise twisted, leaving a foul imprint on my mind, making me want to sleep with the light on, or constantly look over my shoulder. No matter what work of fiction I am furiously devouring, I dread beginning the last chapters. Anxiety of having to forever say goodbye to the characters I have grown so close to is enough to make me slow down and to savor each and every last word.

The thrill of finishing a story is undeniable, in a sense, too, because I never ever put a read book back on the shelf. For it is pure pleasure to be the purveyor of stories, passing on the books I have consumed to others who are awaiting to immerse themselves into the narrative time warp. I have sisters, a mother and couple of friends that wait patiently for me to announce I have another book for them. And do I ever. Each week I finish a book. Each week I get a call from a sister asking for the next book. Each week I make special arrangements to get that book to her. The books are passed on and on, only rarely returning to me. And that's the way it should be. No house should have a big library, for those books are just sitting on shelves collecting dust and bugs. But every house should have an open book that is read every single night, whether alone or to another. Books give us occasion to escape, just for a while. A chance to live in someone else's shoes without the repercussions of their actions. An opportunity challenge our convictions and to add insightful chapters to our world view.

Now, I've really got to go now because even though I love writing, I love reading more and I've got to get back to my novel, the characters are missing me!

Righteous Hissy Fit

you may think i'm on quite the roll in dealing with bitchy people lately. i guess, after all i am on a roll. but i have just one more story to share.

i have this skin cream i get from the medicinary at the local naturopathic college. it is the only herbal cream that helps my sensitive skin and all the conditions that affect it including allergies, intolerances, accidental contagion resulting in a rash, and on and on. a while back, i found that a natural grocery chain was selling it in their stores and yep, it was a couple dollars cheaper there, not to mention a lot closer to my house. so, i started buying the cream at the grocery, that is, until one day, i arrived and found it gone from the shelves. I inquired with the sales staff and was told they actually were not legally able to sell it on the shelves so they had to remove them from sale but the good news was, they could order it for me at the same price and it would be here within a week. i probably go through a 1 oz container every couple of months so it's not a bad investment. i call in my order about a week before i know i'm going to run out so i can pick up a new container just in time. this process has gone well, until of course, now, hence, the reason for my blog post. otherwise, you know, i'd never burden you with this useless information otherwise.

as usual, i called in my order just before my cream was about to run out. i waited the usual week but never got a call that my order was in. then the holidays hit and i was distracted by lazy days, late nights and other important stuff like that. when the second week passed, i called the store to inquire. to my complete chagrin, the order was never ordered. alright, mistakes happen, yes, they do, so I was promised by 'Karin' that she would order it and it would be here on Thursday! Wait - Thursday? Thanksgiving? Karin corrects herself and tells me no, it will be here Friday and that I will get 10% off for wasting my time (the latter part in my own words).

so, i wait actually until Monday to go, just for convenience sake. Monday I walk into the store to pick up my order and lo and behold, it is not there. that should be no big surprise by now, right? it takes the lady, Karin again, to even find my order. when she does, she verifies it really has been ordered this time but it wasn't even ordered until the day before. now my blood pressure is beginning to spike. what is wrong with these people. furthermore, what is wrong with customer service everywhere. cannot anyone do their job? i do keep these thoughts to myself but I am so dissapointed. i really need my cream. i tell karin that she told me it would be here. karin denies it, all the while, i'm wondering if she is going to wipe her runny nose that is dripping way to close now to her lips.

luckily for me, the manager walks by and karin brings her into our conversation, explaining away the events of the last 21 days. i feel the need to put in my 2 cents so i reiterate the fact that my first order request was 21 days ago and that i am a frequent special orderer and this is just really disappointing. the manager, without even a smile or an i'm sorry we screwed you, says, your cream has been ordered and when it gets here we will call you. we will also give it to you for free. FOR FREE? no way! how cool is that. i try to hide my total joy at not having to spend the extra money that i really do not have, plus the fact that luckily this time, i ordered the bigger bottle, so i'm really getting a serious deal here.

i thank them and continue on my way.

i think the moral of this story is that in customer oriented situations i have learned to somewhat behave myself when i don't get what i want or what i expected. instead, i have learned how to have a righteous hissy fit by playing (sincerely) the role of the poor woman done wrong. it unexpectedly got me a truly surprising bonus to what was otherwise a situation tilting towards my inherited ability to throw a public tantrum.

unfortunately, i got a call from the manager again this afternoon that the special order box came in and my order was not in it. before i could reply with a loud WTF is wrong with you people, i was informed that my product is out of stock and that it would come in as soon as the company received more. and yes, i could still get it for free. well, ok, then, as long as i don't have to pay for it, then we're all good. i nicely thanked her, hung up the phone and smiled.  it's the small things that matter sometimes.

Divine Bitchyness

The alarm went off this morning and the first thing I thought was damn.  I rolled over and decided to blank it all out and go back to sleep.  But the pissed off feeling grew and I knew there was no getting out of today so I got up. 

Thankfully my lovely husband had already made coffee so I poured myself what is normally my cup of happiness and sat down to watch the stupid morning news.  What is wrong with me?  Its my day off, I can do anything I want but all I want to do is punch holes in the walls.  I'm angry, more than that, I'm seriously pissed off.  Why, you ask?  I don't know.  I don't fucking know.  Maybe it's because I'm having my period which seems to usually be where the bad feelings stem from.  Who really cares at this point. 

The morning news anchors began to recount the drama of the evening before with frigid uncaring faces.  I found myself wanting to kick them in the stomaches so I turned off the tv and headed for the computer where I can at least pick and choose the news I catch up on in silence.  But not this morning.  In a world where new technology is obsolete only a few months after purchase, our computer would be considered to be a relic from the ice age.  For one, it has no wireless capabilities so we have installed a small satelite device that picks up on the signals around us.  This works about 60% of the time, and this morning was the other 40%. You catching my drift?  No internet.  Fine, screw the news anyway.  I resorted to sitting in fuming silence while I nursed my now luke-warm cup of joe. 

Maybe I needed a god damn long walk up the mountain by my house.  To stay warm in the 19 degree morning heat wave, I put on layers and took to the hills.  Apparently this was not going to go well for me either.  Black ice patches kept me sliding around and 3 times almost landing on my ass.  Can we just start this day over please?  What the fuck is up with the star alignment today? Is the moon stuck in a phase?  Was the planet rotation temporarily side tracked?  After I was sure the dogs had gotten enough fresh air, I headed home determined to somehow find an outlet for my frustration other than beating the frozen ground with my fists. 

I locked the dogs up and turned on a work out program on the tv.  As I started to sweat, I started to get even more pissed.  The more the workout lady said 'keep it up, you can do it', the more I started to swear at her.  With each weight lifted, an expletive aimed at the universe flew from my lips.  Over and over and over until I was swearing in time with the exercises.  After 45 minutes of sweating and swearing, I did the cool down and laid there on my mat huffing and puffing.   I was spent and shaky but I was also in a much better frame of mind.  

There are many ways to get through days that are not on your side but I've never had much luck with any of them, except for a sweaty swearing work out.  It does a dually good job of working out both the mind and the body.  Now that I've had my temper tantrum for the day, I think I can go on.  In fact, I am starting over.  I brewed a fresh pot of cofee, put on my sweats and warm socks and have selected a movie to get lost in over the course of the next few hours.  I'm not feeling 100% but my bitchyness is more centered and divine.  Enough so that I can relax my shoulders, loosen my jaw and let the weight of the world sit on someone elses shoulders for a while.

My War With a Gluten-Free Byatch

The gluten-free world is like a commune - a community of people sharing their favorite recipes with alternative ingredients, sharing what works, what doesn't and forming a sort of comaradare among the wheat intolerant.  Sharing recipes is the way we form our bonds.
So I was perusing websites and found a gluten-free blog with homemade recipes.  The post that caught my eye was for pan de muerto.   I was so excited I email the blogger for the recipe. Little did I know, I would be encountering over the course of the next 10 days, the worlds biggest meanest byatch. So I thought you could get your laugh on at our email exchange.  Can you say CREEPY LUNATIC?  You will after you read this. 

Here's an exerpt of the post:

10/31/10 Gluten Free Pan de Muerto
"......So today, while I was baking my Gluten Free Pan de Muerto, I was thinking about a number of people that have made a special place in my heart. I was also thinking about how happy some of them would be to see me making this bread and sharing it with others...
If you would like my recipe, please send me an email and let me know whose life you will be celebrating this Dia de los Muertos. I would love to hear just a little bit about someone that was special to you...

P.S. ...I will be giving the recipe to a limited number of people that share their story and for a limited time." 
_____________________

On 11/3/10 sas wrote:
Hi, I'd like the recipe for the GF day of the dead sweet bread! Thanks so much,

On 11/5/2010 gluten free byatch wrote:
If you read the posting it asked that you share a story. It was also for a limited time and for a limited amount of people that would recieve it. Both have expired.

On 11/5/10 sas wrote:
Oh that is too bad. Would you please reconsider? I saw it just this week in Bobs Red Mill Blog and they listed your website as a good one to go to to get the gluten free recipe. My sister's son has a lot of food allergies and is really in need of some good bread recipes. He can't eat any gluten and they have really been struggling. I thought sharing your recipe with her would be my way of helping her out. That's too bad.

On 11/5/2010, gluten free byatch wrote:
Do you want the pear fig muffin recipe or the pan de muerto?

On 11/5/10 sas wrote:

Hi, The pan de muerto. Thank you so much! I want to surprise my sister with it for Thanksgiving day.

On 11/5/2010 gluten free byatch wrote:
The recipe is best made the day of and then if there are leftovers it is best to slice and freeze. It can be used for French Toast or bread pudding too! This is not a bread for sandwiches it is a sweet bread. Is that what you want?

On 11/5/2010 sas wrote:

Ok, that is good to know. No, I'm not looking for sandwich bread, I'd like the pan du muerto. I'm interested in the extra 'specialness' of the sweet bread for her son. I like the idea of using the bread for french toast!

On 11/8/2010 sas wrote:

Were you going to send the pan de muerto recipe? Thanks!

On 11/12/10 sas wrote:
(NOTE: i got tired of playing the 'please please give me the recipe' game by now, it just wasn't worth the trouble, she is obviously a lunatic)
Actually, nevermind! I don't need your recipe anymore. My sisters and I got the recipe from an actual chef - which is really what we needed all along. And his recipe rocks! We cooked it this weekend and it was soooo good and her boy loved it. So nevermind, we don't need your recipe anymore. Thanks anyway....

On 11/12/2010 gluten free byatch wrote:
Enjoy your attitude it will take you a long way!
____________________ 

Obviously she is a lunatic and possibly crazy.  Her responses were so immature, I decided a retort would be childish.  I'm sure her attitude will take her straight to... well, you know, I'm sure you can visualize exactly where.  I do feel sorry for her in a sense.  She seems to lack common courtesy and does not seem to interact well with people.  Maybe she just needs to take her gluten-free bitch-ass and...  Ok, that's all folks!

Layin off the sauce

After intensive meetings with a naturopath for a few months, I have healed my thyroid and adrenals (which were very tired before), and dramatically improved my overall digestion of nutrients.


What has come out of this is a major diet change for me. I have massive food intolerances to Dairy and Gluten.

And I have an intolerance to Fruit and Sugar eaten together - this means no mayo or mustard (sugar and vinegar in them), no tomatoe sauce (unless it has no sugar in it - like homemade), no wine with dessert (wine and meats are fine, thank the good lord above), no margaritas (sugar and lime), no cashews with dark chocolate (cashews are from a fruit tree), no fruit pies, etc. I can have wine, I can have cashews, I can have dark chocolate, just not in combination. I'm trying to avoid potatoes and corn too since they are mostly sugars.
So basically, I can have nitrate free meats and lots o green vegetables and anything gluten free. Each meal consists of 80% greens, 15% proteins, and if necessary, 5% Gluten Free Grains (brown rice, rice pasta, etc). I can also substitute pure maple syrup for sugar so in theory I could have fruit desserts if they are cooked with maple syrup instead.

The good thing that has come out of all this is that for the first time in 25 years, I have the energy of a 6 year old. Not that I am running around with my head cut off like a kid or anything, but I most often now, can stay up till 11pm - which is a MIRACLE in an of itself for those who know me well. And even better, even more miraculously, I wake up with ease with only 7 hours of sleep. I'm treading carefully on this last miracle, b/c I'm waiting for the bottom to fall out on this one - deep down I am waiting to collapse with exhaustion after not getting 13 hours of sleep a night AND a nap.

When I tell folks of my dietary changes, they say they feel sorry for me. But realistically, I think this is the way that the gods meant us to eat. All I have to do basically, is throw processed foods, sauces and drinks out the window, then bring in the simple wholesome home-cooked meals made from scratch. It's healthier that way. And when you think about it, cows milk really is for only cows. The same goes for goats. All us mammals are weened at a certain age from our own species milk and only us go on to drink others milk.
With that being said, you are wondering, will she cheat? Lets just get things out into the open here. In regards to gluten, no, I won't cheat - I learned my lesson on that one. Only because any tiny bit of gluten (in salad dressings, tums, sauces, etc) will produce a lovely mustache-shaped rash around my mouth that will not go away for at least two weeks after exposure. Dairy, it is possible I will introduce a little dairy into my diet here and there. For instance, if I'm at a wine tasting and they are offering a lovely mound of homemade organic cheese to pick at, I will definitely take a bite or two. Or if I'm starved and the only food available is pizza, I will pick off the veggies along with the cheese and eat a little. But this tiny bit of dairy immediately clogs me up, making me feel like I have a cold and I become quite irritable after consuming.
So really, all in all, I'm better off without. If I want to feel like a million bucks, I've got to lay off the sauce.

Easy Breezy Beautiful

It was one of those perfect English autumnal days which occur more frequently in memory than in life.  ~P.D. James

I can't quite put my finger on it, but there was something about today.  No set plan, an i'm-cool-with-whatever sort of attitude, and an ease with which the day flowed.  I'd normally say it was because I awoke naturally with the light of day as it filtered in on the wings of a breeze through my bedroom window, sans alarm clock. That is a good start to any of my days. 

After a long hike up the mountain with the dogs, I enjoyed a perfectly brewed cup of coffee with Warren.  Ok, make that 2 or 3 cups of coffee.  But anyway....  For breakfast I indulged in a first.  I cooked waffles for the first time ever.  After over-filling the waffle iron, I learned quickly how to achieve the right batter consistency and how to trust that the waffle iron was a capable of cooking all on it's own, without my interference. Pumpkin waffles, presto! 

Thinking about my mental to-do list for fall, I asked Warren if he'd build me a shed door this weekend.  His face lit up like I had said we'd won the lottery.  A man project was in the works.  He called up his friend who immediately agreed to join him in the shed door making.  And to work they went.  Feeling a bit ambitious myself, I winterized my keyhole garden and after that I was feelin a relaxation period was called for so I grabbed my book and read on the futon for a while.  When my stomache started growling, I was reminded of the fact I should cook some hearty food for the boys who were workin so hard in the backyard.  Since in Idaho time it was 5:00 and thus happy hour, I figured I'd open a bottle of red.  You know, to bring out the chef in me.  Which of course worked, because what I created in that kitchen was the most savory black bean soup and cornbread, I have made to date.

Later, as night fell, I read my text messages, emails and chatted with one of my sisters.  As I caught up on their days, I realized that this easy, breezy, beautiful day was catching for them, too.  One sister harvested her summer's bounty and planted in it's place a winter garden.  Another sister slept in, started the day later than usual,  nd enjoyed a leisure walk and dinner out.   She said it was the air today.  Something was up with the air.  It was fresh and cleansing, crisp yet warm, with a touch of easy in the breeze.  Ladies, we call that the last day of a well-deserved Indian Summer.  Finally, my other sister called to chat and described to me her day.  "Well, I got up and did 45 loads of laundry.  And that made me very cranky".  I laughed my ass of with her about this household duty that never ceases.  But her day was still good and her mood was easy. 

It's days like these when I not only know magic exists, I see it in action.  I am a part of it's act.  There's a bit of magic at the turn of each season but most of all, at that moment when summer says it's final long goodbye, leaving us with the most beautiful, cherished, and memory longed for during the winter months.