Naturally Nerds

Brain Itch

2010-01-29T09:55:00.001-08:00

A more coherent and hopefully cogent post either this evening or this weekend (as to why not earlier in the week? Wednesday was the Prime Geek and I's 3rd wedding anniversary. Use your imagination!) but I do want to pop up a few links to articles that have my brain itching a tad. I'd love to know what other people think...

http://www.seriouseats.com/talk/2010/01/how-do-you-eat-for-a-week-for-50.html

and

http://glutenfreegirl.blogspot.com/2010/01/eating-on-18-day.html

There IS a crisis in our country regarding food, availability, health, etc. Food banks are empty, some are closing, people are having to make hard choices about what bills to pay and how to keep their families fed.

That being said - with more and more bloggers, reporters, heck governmental figures getting in on the fun - all outlining their extraordinary extremes they have to go to manage on "tiny sums" to feed themselves for a week (I suppose one week of eating lentils is supposed to translate to becoming the common man)... I'm left a little confused.

The Prime Geek and I eat quite a bit of local food. Lots of fresh. Almost 75% of our meat is local AND grassfed. Heck - we also eat gluten free now, since my diagnosis of celiac. We're not hungry, we're not lacking, and we certainly don't suffer from any lack of variety or even treats - and our weekly grocery budget?

$50 a week.

For both of us.

Together.

All meals - I even pack the Prime Geek's lunch.

Now. I'm lucky. I work from home. I don't have kids (and the resulting crazy scheduling that comes with). I can take the time to source the best prices/quality, shop multiple stores, and have pretty varied and adventurous tastes when it comes to food. I also live in Northern Ohio - which while I'll crab about the weather (we looking at negative degrees with the wind today. It's a fair crab.) has a GREAT cost of living going for it. Lots of farms, lots of food. Low prices, jobs rebuilding... so I can understand a large amount of lucky happenstance (or rather, extremely detailed planning - according to the PG.) coming into play.

But there seems a severe disconnect somewhere. Eating on "just" xx a day keeps hitting the news... but that isn't how we eat/live. Today is connected to choices made last week, plans made for next month. I understand the emergency minded "What do we do to eat NOW" line of thinking. Really, I do. But I am left wondering if by pushing the far more sensational (and therefore sexier to our media eye) and extreme... we're building generations who WILL continue to suffer and be hungry because we never talk about the more prosaic "what can we do today... to eat next week?"

Dusty

2010-01-19T10:05:00.000-08:00

Wow. You leave a tiny corner of the web alone for 10+ months, and the dust and cobwebs start to stack up!

I'm not sure if I AM restarting this blog, if it will stay in the same vein or take an entirely new track through the morass of my back brain. I DO know that writing is becoming rather important to me again - so there is that.

It's... been a hard year. A really hard year. What started out as a bit of an annoyance, soon turned into a cluster###@. And if the language implied seems a bit much, well - 6 months of dying without realizing it, the sudden "Oh. So THAT'S why I feel like crap. Huh." and the last several months of trying to crawl my way back out makes for a less than stellar year.

Started a bit simply, as these things often do. After years of various "stomach issues", I finally got an answer. Celiac. Yup... no more whole wheat rolls, real pizza, or beer for this gal. (The loss beer I can survive. I'm more of a whiskey sipper than a beer drinker, anway.) Years of playing in the kitchen - and I suddenly am right back to beginner status as I try to relearn how to feed myself AND the Prime Geek.

Not too bad, really. A new diet - which helped pull about 50+ pounds off my 6'2 frame, so, bonus really - isn't the end of the world.

But than... well. It all went pear shaped. As folks might remember, we heat Casa de Nerd with a woodburning soapstone stove. Woodburner = need for wood = spending vast amounts of time tromping in the forest.

Which would be where I got chewed upon most thoroughly by several brown recluse spiders. That went septic. And than caused shingles. (I've broken things, ripped things, stepped on sharp things, even live pretty easily with a heart issue that means it occasionally gets bored and stops for a moment. Car accidents, physical attacks, and other fun times. Shingles is the first thing in my life that made me rock back and forth sobbing in pain as the primate in the back of my brain realized that nope, sorry, it would appear the Oxy isn't actually going to do anything. So as a side note from your friendly Nerd? Get thy assets to the doctor and ask nicely but firmly to be jabbed in the butt with the shingles vaccine. Now. Unless you like the feeling of being burned alive while beaten with electrical wires.)

Beat that back finally - a few scars that will take a while to fade, a tendency to panic if I happen upon an 8-legged critter (I now react rather like a 1950's sitcom housewife when she discovers a mouse in the kitchen. There is screaming, flailing, and a general need to vacate NOW! Extreme? Perhaps. But the two fingers on my right hand that are still a bit numb and weak and the quarter sized scars say its also extremely understandable.*) and I was still sick. Round after round of fevers following round after round of antibiotics. No clue as to where the misery was coming from - just sick.

Until my head exploded. Popped right off my spine and rolled under the table.

Alright. Fine. I exaggerate. It just felt like it had. And possibly would have been preferable. Alien Possession? Brain tumor? Nope. Just my THIRD set of wisdom teeth coming in - having been damaged by the incompetent idiot who frelled up my SECOND set when he yanked them - and rotting where no one could see them. Freaked the emergency care oral surgeon RIGHT out.**

Rather surreal to be told by a gray faced dentist that if you hadn't started hurting, that if it had fallen the other way and simply killed the nerves so nothing was felt... the next thing to happen (and quickly) would have been systemic organ failure. Which a body that had been battling infection for 8 months really wouldn't have had much of a shot at fighting off. So, yeah. On the up side, I finally stopped beating myself up for being so lazy and out of shape that just getting dressed made me tired enough to nap. I suppose I should be grateful that my sense of humor is odd enough that my first reaction was laughter (only mildly hysteric) when I contemplated the possible epitaph of "Here lies The Nerd - Done Wrong by a Dentist". Death by wisdom teeth. Just... doesn't seem that smart really.

Which brings us to now. Better - but whomped. Pretty completely. Have to take things slow... which is making me nuts. But at least I'm here. Mostly. Perhaps. We'll see. I suppose the question is two fold: Do I still have things to say here? And maybe more importantly... is there anyone else out there who wants to hear it?

We'll see.

* As a slight warning to my friends who may think it funny to yell "spider!" and watch me twitch? Please do remember... when I panic, I tend to punch. And no, I won't feel bad about it after.

** One of these days I'm going to have to write up that encounter... I'm not sure who was more upset - me or the dentist. As it was an emergency squeeze in, he couldn't do his standard procedure - iv sedatives and a quiet job. To have an Amazon keep insisting he do the job with just novacaine seemed to put him off his game a tad. FOURTEEN shots in the mouth, and he kept insisting we didn't have to do this. Really. Honest. No one would think badly of me - they'd give me scripts for painkillers and we could do it in two days. Please. I just wanted it DONE - but I think he must have thought I was a hardcore case.

Crap

2009-03-07T14:13:00.000-08:00

This... isn't a normal post. Nothing contained within is environmentally based. No tips, tricks, or funny stories. Instead... well. A tumble of thought gyrating around in my badly bruised brain – perhaps a way to exorcise a mental demon, and maybe a cultural question or two.

Today's plans have gone a little bit askew, originally this nerd was going to head out with her geek and see a movie that he's been waiting less than patiently for. Now that Star Wars is over, and it will be a while before the next Batman wanders down the path – his big movie moment is the new flick Watchmen, based on the graphic novels of the same name.

I'll grant you as a nerd, my tastes tend to run more towards the elven and trollish rather than the spandex-clad mask wearing heroes of the comics. I know most of the story lines - at least the broad strokes, but it isn't really my “thang”. I enjoyed X-men (hello nurse... I mean Wolverine), Hellboy tickled my fancy – no doubt due to the large element of fantasy within – but Batman and Superman never really grabbed my attention. But, the Prime Geek DOES love the dark-hero genre... and as I love him, well. I resign myself to the odd overly brooding masked avenger and amuse myself with popcorn and the odd snicker over a overly emphasized set of silicon pecs.

But – I don't like going into movies blind, either. So, a bit of my afternoon was spent trawling the internet for spoilers and info about what I was about to blow 2 hours of my life watching (and if I should pack my light-at-the-tips knitting needles... just in case). Rather to my shock and growing horror... one thing kept popping out of review after review. One... word, in fact.

Rape. Over and over. Apparently a graphic flashback of two of the main characters are included in the movie – a rape (or attempted, views vary), followed in time by a child and the eventual consensual sex between the victim and her attacker. Well. That makes it alright then. The attack must have just been a misunderstanding. Perhaps just a bad first date...

?!?!?!!?

I'm sorry. No. This isn't okay, its not “dramatic tension” its not “plot development”. It isn't a “pivotal character movement”. It's rape. Its brutal. Its terrible. Its painful. Its scarring...

I should know.

I'm getting so sick and tired of this same old tired piece of creative laziness – you have to break a character down? Fine. Prove you are enough of a writer that you don't have to go for the easy nut-shot in a fight. Its a cheat. And... its dangerous. There is no “happily ever after” in rape. There is no “redemption and friendship – perhaps even love...” between a rape victim and their attacker. Don't tell me how the “savageness of his act, and the shock of how far he's fallen” forces a character to grow. Bullshit.

The only growth I'm interested in is that of the tree growing out of his grave.

Harsh? Yeah. And in all honesty – a pretty mild version of the foaming out of the mouth, profanity laden initial reaction. We're living in a world where a young performer is beaten without mercy by her boyfriend... and the world lines up to list all the ways “she had it coming.” And “yeah... he was wrong, but she probably provoked it.” The kind of mentality that can accept this type of “entertainment” baffles me. This is so far beyond... I'm sorry. Its simple what it is. It's evil. It's wrong. You don't get to be a hero and you don't get sympathy.

Can a rapist be forgiven? Perhaps. I try. But they don't get play time in their walk to right the wrongs they did. And they definitely shouldn't get an action figure.

This type of nonsense just makes the perpetrator the victim and the victim a harsh lesson they needed to grow.

If the only way you can make a plot point is this.... you're a pretty pitiful writer.

And a bit of a pathetic human being as well.

2009-02-15T09:43:00.000-08:00

Happy Valentine's Day from Your Natural Nerd, the Prime Geek, and two outta four of the troubles.

Hope you had a great day and remembered to tell at least one loved one how you feel.

Me?

I'm just getting up this Sunday on at 12:45pm. How do you THINK my holiday went?

(Grin)

Really? I mean... Really?

2009-02-10T12:48:00.000-08:00

I've been trying to write about all the plans and plans within plans that are finally starting to leave the paper and pen stage and actually peeking their heads out into reality for the longest time... but I'm stuck on one article I read over the weekend, and I just CANNOT get it out of my winter weary brainpan. Perhaps if I share it with you, I'll finally be able to let my incredulity and disbelief go – and get back to more important things like gardening plans, the house changes, and what in the world am I going to do with 500+ yards of fabric draped around my office! (You think that's a lot of fabric? We're not even going to talk about the yarn stash right now.)

Fine. Right then. Over the weekend, the New York Times decided to shed a little light to all us unfeeling peons out in the world who don't understand that the current economy is hard for every... but maybe just a teeny tiny bit harder for the wealthy amongst us to bear without some serious handouts.

For either a chuckle... or an urge to bash a head (yours, or someone else's, the choice is your own) take a moment and head over to their webpage and read the article regarding the perils of attempting to survive on a mere $500,000.

http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/08/fashion/08halfmill.html?_r=2 Go ahead... I'll be here. Take your time... I'm still rocketing between giggles and incredulity.

You back? Well? What do you think? Time to run a tellathon to keep those brave lads and lasses in Brooks Brothers and Chanel? I'm torn over the article really (as the fact I've talked about it to – my mother, my husband, 7 forums I belong to, several friends, the mailman, and a guy just trying to pick out grapefruit at the grocery can attest.... its sticking in my head and will not dislodge) I can't decide if the NYT has a secret cabal of writers who are huge French Revolution buffs and they are attempting a sociological experiment to see exactly what it takes to work the common man into a frenzy and start sharpening their guillotines.... or we're just really that far outta touch with the reality of our world's situation. You have to have $16,000 vacations – or you can't keep your head up at work? That $32,000 spent each year on your fourth grader's schooling really isn't enough to help them pass, they need another $3,000+ to make it through the multiplication table?

$450 every 10 days on groceries.

Really.

And here I've been making do on $250. A month.

Don't get me wrong – I'm a fan of capitalism. I like to buy my goodies... I have my little luxuries and treats, I've got bills to pay and debts to honor. You work hard and make the money – you've earned the right to buy what you want when you want, HOW you want. I truly believe that.

But... but...

Really?

People in our country are wondering if they are going to be able to feed their kids tonight... and you wanna whine about how you have to keep up appearances?

You don't have to care about other people. You don't have to volunteer, give back, or even give a flipping tinker's damn about the rest of the world.

Just....

Don't be tacky about it. Don't tell me I can't understand the issues you have and expect me to keep a straight face. Don't whine and whinge that it's a hard life being rich and powerful. Come on folks... at this exact moment in history – I really don't want to view the corporate heads of our economy as Paris Hilton with a combover.

Now if you'll pardon me, I'll just be over here in the corner googling how to build a guillotines.

Tomorrow?

I plant things! (And get far too excited about the prospect of seeing green things again.)

Time to Stop Hoping for Change

2009-01-30T12:06:00.000-08:00

As I start to brush the cobwebs off of my brain, my blog, AND my life – I find myself walking into this new year, already chaffing under the constant yelping of Hope/Change! from folks still embroiled in inauguration fervor.

No matter a person's politics... I'm finding I'm not alone in this. Whether you voted for our new president or not, there IS something rather special about knowing our country has its first black president – and that's a HUGE reason to hope, and a giant step for change... but as the weeks have rolled by, I'm tired of the slogan. I'm tired of what I see it beginning to represent.

Hope is great. Change is needed... but its time to stop patting yourself on the back and congratulating yourself with platitudes and a repetitive sound bite.

I don't want to hope for change. I don't want my LEADERS to hope for change. There seems to be this feeling amongst voters now the election is over and the new man is settling into the White House that the work is now done. Time to have President Obama click his heels and settle us into the new world we have dreamed of.

It doesn't work that way.... and while the President seems to be a natty dresser, my brain tends to blink at the thought of him wearing ruby slippers. The time for hoping it will all be better in the morning is over. The time now... is to BE the change. Everyday, every step. Do the work that will END in changes becoming a new reality. Step chanting a rather annoying catchphrase, and let's get to work.

As for me? I'm sliding my winter weary brain back into my writing shoes and will be seeing where I want to take this blog, my life... and my own reality. I'll confess to feeling a tad stagnant and stupefied, penned in by weather and worries... but I'm ready for a change. More to the point – I'm ready to Work to the Change. Wanna come along?

PS – Could someone please whisper in our commander and chief's ear that if he really want to grow a garden, dig one outside the White House and plant some spinach. Leave the orchid raising for Hawaii... and turn down the heat. Mocking the fair weather nature of schools in your district over a little snow while wandering around in a huge building with the heat ratcheted up makes you look a wee bit outta touch with your own platform. Just sayin.....

The Bunny Bounces Once Again

2008-12-17T12:27:00.001-08:00

Late in updating, but the holiday season madness has laid waste to my good intentions. The Bunny is once again bounding around the house - a little bit gimpy still in her back leg, but well on the road to recovery. Vitamin E, an extra humidifier going, and a really really good scrub to all the floors just in case and she seems to be mending well. We're still at a loss over how it happened, all our girls are housebound and she stays well away from the woodburner.

Thanks so much for the kind thoughts and well-wishes for our furry child.

Off to dive back into the Christmas Crazy - is it almost over?

Pretty please?

All I can say is, I'm glad we're doing a tiny Christmas this year - people are just NUTS when it comes to the holidays. It's enough to make the jolliest elf throw up their hands and yell Bah Humbug!

Pet Owners... Help?

2008-12-10T16:28:00.000-08:00

Not what I had planned posting tonight – that will go up tomorrow afternoon – but I'm running outta ideas here and am hoping some smart reader can help this worried nerd.

We have four furry children. Now, I'm nowhere near as nutty as my mother-in-law (one day, I'll let the world in on some of her endearing but surreal behavior regarding the fuzzier denizens of the world) about cats... but I am pretty fond of the furballs. We've been really blessed regarding their health. Other than the normal wear and tear: the occasional hairball, upset tummies (and the resulting ick) from snarfing their food too fast, and the recovery time from their little reproductive snips – they're the healthiest things in the house.

But now... Bunny* has the Prime Geek and I worried sick. Our littlest furball has somehow managed to dry out the pads of her feet to the point they are cracked, peeling, and bleeding – causing her to limp around when she has to move, and lay like a rug the rest of the day. I've taken her to the vet and run up against a sad truth – our amazing vet (sick and out of the office for the next three months) has been replaced by an idiot. Once he determined nothing was broken, I was told :

“Well, she must have gotten into one of your cleaning products....”
I only use natural stuff. I can drink what I use – nasty tasting, but harmless.
“Then it must be your carpets got her paws irriated....”
Wooden floors.
“Well, sometimes it happens and if you want to try and fix it, I'd suggest trying.”
Ummmmmm.... yeah. Love to – he gave no help though. That was literally all this moron said – if you want to try and fix it, I'd suggest trying to. Wow. That's just... wow.

I'm dosing her little pads with vitamin E and olive oil, I've got the humidifier cranked to “London Fog”, and have been ratcheting up the cuddles to high. We know it's not a burn - so the wood burner is out as a culprit. Litterboxes - cleaned daily and its the same old stuff. I'm outta thoughts here.

Any other ideas on how to get our meekest baby better quick? I gotta tell you, her little squeeks when I “operate” on her toes is starting to make my stomach knot.

Help this Kitty Momma?

*She has a “real” respectable name – Artemis. But due to her timid nature, her fear of daylight, and her tiny fangs... she quickly became our Bunnicula.

Life Saver

2008-12-07T16:27:00.000-08:00

One day, if the fates are ever cruel... a very strange sight may meet the eyes of some hardworking firemen. Should tragedy strike, and our house go up in flames... well. I know my dear Prime Geek will get himself safely out of the building. Our furry children? Folks will understand our taking the time to ensure their whiskers get no more than singed – not charred. But what will confuse the lads (and ladies) in their dashing rubber pants will be the sight of a ash-covered woman – frantically trying to unmake her bed and wrestle her mattress pad out to safety with the rest of the family. Take my computer, my yarn stash*, my books**, but leave me my electric mattress pad!

Why am I spending a Sunday afternoon writing a love ode to a bunch of heated coils and some thin polyester? Simple. It's saving my pocketbook, my extremities, and very possibly my marriage. Allow me to explain.

The pocketbook is easy enough – through the modern marvel that IS Francois (re: weird habit I have for naming the objects in my life. As long as I don't go out in public with my underwear on my head, this small aspect of insanity is harmless. Judge not!) we are saving serious cash each and every cold month. Far cheaper to run than an electric heater, this little bundle of joy keeps my bed at a roasty toasty even keel... even when the bedroom itself is cold enough to generate icicles from the eaves. (Or at least a serious sheen of ice on the inside of our windows.) With the woodburner banked for the night downstairs, the electric mattress pad is our only source of heat in the upstairs. Proof its worth its weight in gold?

Our last gas bill (and with the wind chill, this part of the country is ducking into single and negative digits most nights) was a hefty – $32.50.

Impressive, yes? But that's not all my beloved bedroom buddy is doing for me nightly***, no no. You see... not only is our bedroom a wee bit chilly come nightfall, I have a slight problem with my circulation. Just a tiny little issue with being cold. Just a small... oh hades. Let's be honest here. I can lower the temperature of steaming bathwater with a single toe dip. I have to wait ten minutes after I shave to try getting dressed, simply because it takes that long to discover if I've cut my legs or not. It took my parents until I was 15 to realize a fever was the only way for me to achieve a “normal” temperature. Added to this – I have a severe case of monkey toes. You know... the ability to use my toes to grip and hold objects? Handy when I have to pick up a sock when my hands are full with a laundry basket... useful when climbing trees barefoot (something my mother wishes her nearing thirty year old daughter would give up, but it probably isn't happening this lifetime)... but not so much a good thing when coupled with a few other life facts. Like the ice cold feet I have. And the fact the Prime Geek is a blast furnace. And the fact we both have to sleep sometime. And that cold feet will burrow and travel great lengths to find nooks and crannies of warmth – completely without the knowledge of my working brain, might I add. Toss the whole ability to grip... and well. Once my dear husband stopped shrieking and flailing about, it was a week before he'd sleep with me again. We still wrap up in separate sheets because of that little incident. So to have my bed constantly radiating warmth helps me keep my limbs intact from threats of hypothermia induced gangrene ... and the threat of being hatcheted off by my desperately covering his shivering manhood husband.

Which leads me to my last reason for loving my mattress pad. The saving of my marriage. You see, I'm not the only one in this partnership with a few sleeping issues. The reason my feet got so frigid that fateful night had just as much to do with a certain bad habit of his. No one warns you before you link your life with someone to fully explore their personal tendencies – no one whispers “Hey, watch him sleep before you agree to the next 60+ years of bedside behavior”. You think about snoring, or talking in their sleep. You wonder about what side of the bed you are agreeing to stick to through thick and thin. But it never even crossed my mind to consider he might be....

A wrapper. AND a spinner. Shameless about it too. We may have started out those early nights with equal bedding, but it never lasted long. Yeah, an electric blanket is nifty... but it doesn't do you much good when it's completely cocooned around the body of your hibernating spouse. By three in the morning I would be shivering under nothing more than a sheet and one lone sock – staring resentfully at the snoring body of my blanket snatching husband. Gentle nudges garnered me nothing. Pulling and tugging just caused him to burrow deeper into his nest. One night in desperation, I pulled my robe off the floor and snuggled my feet under it in an effort to last until morning – only to be awakened by the sudden yank as it was stripped off my slowly bluing toes and absorbed into his warm shroud. Night after night found me struggling to remember I loved this Geek... and would regret smothering him with my pillow in the morning. Probably. Most likely. Presumably.

And then? Hark, the Angels! (Well, my mother anyway.) A present that saved my feet, my pocketbook, and my life outside of prison – my electric mattress pad. Constant radiating warmth – no matter how many blankets my ever loving spouse may steal. Ahhh... true bliss.

Now excuse me, does anyone know what insurance company I should talk to insure my little buddy?

Night folks.****

* That one stings a bit.
** Okay, a gut shot to think of that going bye-bye
*** I honestly didn't intend for that to sound like I was about to extol the virtues of a battery-powered pal there....
**** A little silly to ignore the stresses of the holiday season. I'll be greener in the morning. Althought, this IS on topic, mostly. Less gas heat = lighter carbon footprint = happier planet! See, I CAN wrap anything back to that if I try!

Thanks for the (Cheap!) Bird

2008-11-26T11:49:00.000-08:00

Well, its almost time to trot out the elastic waist pants and the company lounging pajamas – Thanksgiving time is here again.

I'm thankful for many things at the moment : a slowly (but finally) getting healthy family, a home that's staying warm and toasty without needing to sell blood to pay the gas company, and I'm thankful for the fact that this Thanksgiving the Prime Geek and I only have to trek to ONE family for the yearly gorge (for 5 years we've done double duty – my parents for an early lunch followed by a trek down to his aunt's place for a late lunch, then a 3+ hour drive through a turkey coma back home.) I'm thankful my sister in law is surviving her 3rd pregnancy with only moderate discomfort. I'm thankful for my husband, my parents, my friends. And... I'm thankful for cheap turkeys.

By this point in my greening battles, our meat is 75% locally/humanly/cleanly/they all get together daily to sing Koom Ba Ya while they get their daily cuddles from fresh faced young milkmaids raised and butchered. Inherent snarkiness aside, it does matter to me where my food comes from and how it got there. The one place we fall down, and fall down HARD is turkey. Once a year the sales all hit, and my pocketbook begins to yell a bit louder than my naturally nerdy tendencies. I'd love to buy local turkeys, gently raised – but have you PRICED the suckers lately? Unless they are coming to me wrapped in gold with promises to cure cancer while granting amazing carnal bliss to whosoever devours them, I don't have the ability to drop $60+ on what might be the dimmest animal on the planet. (I'll admit more than a slight concern over the fact I'm eating an animal too stupid and fat to get its own jollies without outside help.)

So – its a mad dash at Thanksgiving to greedily acquire all the turkey we may need for the rest of the year. I have whole turkeys in the freezer, turkeys dismantled into bits then vacuum sealed, broth simmering as it waits to be canned, and a ongoing search for the perfect turkey jerky. At $0.69 a pound... can you blame me for being thankful? Between these birds and the half a cow nestled into my freezer, I'm set for meat for a year. And with grocery prices soaring... I'm pretty darn thankful.

Have a great Thanksgiving everyone. Be safe, and love those you're with.

A small aside before I start packing – no matter your political affiliation, (and everyone who knows me knows there were plenty of things I didn't like about her - from religion to how she insisted on mugging for the camera) if you're sitting down to a turkey dinner this year with family – STOP BELLYACHING ABOUT THE PALIN PRESS CONFERENCE! Sheesh folks, what did you think happened to get those birds on your table? Depressed turkeys ending it all by locking themselves into the garage with a running motor? To every reporter wearing leather shoes, to any pundit fighting over a drumstick – grow up. This is a women who field dresses elk, why be surprised that she doesn't faint at the sight of a dead bird?

Civic Duty

2008-11-04T06:22:00.000-08:00

Done.

How about you? Everybody else get their snazzy red, white, and blue sticker? Still plenty of time, but I'd hurry on down to the polls while the traffic is light.

Seriously, I don't care if your guy gets it or not. By not voting you agree to the complete removal of your rights to piss and moan about the state of the country for the next four years - and that just doesn't seem very American to me.

Scoot.

Rain Rain, Go Away

2008-10-08T08:45:00.000-07:00

Really. Seriously. I have stuff to do.

Come on, give a nerd a break... there are windows to seal, wood to split, shingles to fix, gutters to clean, shutters to hang, and doors to fix.

Ahhh... the glories of fall.

Makes a gal hope for snow to fly soon so she can take a few moments and enjoy a cup of cocoa.

Looks like I'll spend the day wrapping pipes and doing laundry instead.

Why, yes. I am deciding to ignore the last several bad months and move on. You noticed, didn't you. Crap. I was trying to be subtle. Here's the deal. My summer has consisted of : 2 deaths (one a recent murder of a cousin's husband's little girl. It just keeps getting more movie of the week.), a mother-in-law dealing with cancer, family "issues", family nuttiness (understandable, but still possibly certifiable), a ripped up roof from a natural disaster, school struggles, two more severe health concerns with other family members, and a partridge in a freaking pear tree. I'm expecting a lightning bolt to hit the bedroom in about 20 minutes and all my hair to fall out on Friday. Can it just be winter yet? This has been a rough summer. Still trying to do the "green thing" but its hard to get back into a normal groove of life and I'm a bit scared to say I'm back for fear of a plauge of locusts o'er the land.

In Brief

2008-10-01T17:03:00.001-07:00

I wanted to thank everyone for their thoughts and prayers for my family and a little girl you never met. This morning, a bit before 6am while surrounded by her parents and both sets of grandparents, Gracie passed.

She lived 20 days longer than any doctor though possible, 7 months longer than any conventional medical wisdom could dictate, she won't be forgotten.

Not going to say much else, and I'm going to try to finally get back into the habit of writing – better news, I hope – in the morning. Tonight? I'm going to cuddle my husband and my cats and try to turn my slightly battered brain and heart off for the evening. Toss a thought and a prayer to a pair of grieving parents and a little boy who's had to learn what death is far too soon.

Night all.

ARRRGGGHH!!!

2008-09-29T16:09:00.001-07:00

With a side of Ack.

Over a week without the bloody internet - shut off because we OVERPAID and their little neurons couldn't handle the excitement.

Behind in school work, behind in tons else... and just frankly wanting a solid day of rain to come along so I can catch back up.

Grumble grumble.

On the up side, I got a lot of knitting on my hopefully to be birthday sweater (here's hoping I won't have the wear the dratted thing as a tube top.) accomplished, the wood pile is now taller than I am (just have two more rows to go to be ready for snow), and we have tons of new projects on the hop.

Pretty please can I have a few boring weeks?

When I find the dratted person who laid this Chinese curse of an interesting life on me, I'm going to throttle them. Interestingly.

In Which I Try To Return To A Semblance Of Normality

2008-09-15T13:43:00.000-07:00

Life is what it is, and in the effort to regain a bit of balance in my life... I'm moving on and just letting the extended family situation go. It is what it is and...

What is, is a massive windstorm that nearly blew this nerd's nest to bits last night. Over 300,000 in our immediate area alone are without power, and the electric company is saying it could be Friday before everyone is hooked back into the grid. More than a million in other parts of Ohio are without power as well, and even more in other states. The Prime Geek and I were incredibly lucky, he got home from working overtime on Sunday just as the storm was beginning (a long worried wait for this nerd... he'd taken the bike) and we were pretty much battened down in under 30 minutes. A month before we had severely trimmed back our old oak trees, and as such are the only ones on the street who don't have downed branches. We lost about a 5x5 foot section of shingles off the roof... but that was our only hit. The power stayed on, the cats hid, and we called it a night by ten – lulled to sleep by the sound of Mother Nature having a hissy fit and sirens roaring by.

The weather seems bound and determined to shake our planet this year, and I really don't see any let up in the near future. To that end... I'm going to take the next few weeks and start looking at and discussing the preventative measures the PG and I take, and perhaps convince a few others to join in prepping your homes for upcoming storms and struggles. I've lived through : tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, fires, blizzards, droughts, financial.... flights of fancy, and even rains of frogs (long story). With government bulletins announcing that they'd love to help us should the roof fly off, but don't count on it – with Mother Nature seeming to have neglected to take her clozapine this decade – with the banks going down while the bills go up... maybe I can help a bit with what I've learned (and clarify it in my OWN brain as well!)

First. Not gonna talk about water, food, or shelter... something else comes first today.

Are you the kind of person who does laundry only at the last minute? Be honest. If the power went out in 20 minutes... no water or power for the next week, does everyone in your home have enough underwear, dry socks, and outer clothes for three days? (It takes at LEAST a full day to dry clothes you've washed in a bucket... more if its humid.) When the chips are down and you have to work hard to pull your life back together... squelching along in wet jeans you wore yesterday and dirty socks from last week just make a bad situation miserable – not to mention harder.

Go check, I'll wait. I've got cookies that need making. See you tomorrow.

Thank you for the kind words and prayers. As of this moment... she's alive. They talked someone into reventing her, and its back to its usual up and down she is/she isn't rollercoaster of hell. This weekend I had to admit that the whole situation was bringing up some painful personal past isues and I have to let this go. Too far away, I can't do anything... its just ripping scars open for the sake of watching them bleed. I'm praying for my cousin, I'm praying it just resolves itself however it needs to... and I'm done. I can't sit staring at a computer screen waiting to hear the next horrid installment in a story I can't affect. No more from or for this nerd.

Almost Over

2008-09-10T12:15:00.000-07:00

She crashed this morning... flatlined, they brought her back.

The doctors have said no more.

She's off the ventilator, off the pump, laying in her momma's lap and they are waiting for the end.

Now its just a matter of waiting for the last call.

Doesn't Matter to Who or How

2008-09-10T09:40:00.000-07:00

Just... say a little prayer today.

Pray for a family to be able to let go. Pray for rest. Pray they can see it isn't satan pulling, it isn't a spirital failing, it isn't lack of faith - sometimes... its just time to go home.

Six months of pain is enough. When the doctors say they won't do another operation, they won't cut in again, they aren't being blinded by satan's plan... they swore an oath to do no harm - and all you are insisting on is harm.

Gonna be a long day.

Flip of the Coin

2008-09-08T20:38:00.000-07:00

The good news about harvest time and the ability to preserve some of the local bounty? You know what you're eating, you know where its from, and it often tastes worlds better than anything a factory can produce.

The bad news? It has to be done now. Not tomorrow, not over the weekend, not when you get to it. Its just you in the kitchen against a mountain of tomatoes/peppers/corn/etc and the clock it ticking down to rotten town.

I'm a bit in the weeds, but starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel folks.

Until tomorrow, have a good night.

A Diversion...

2008-09-03T16:40:00.000-07:00

As the heat tonight has sapped both my will to be productive and my desire to move away from the fan I've decided to wast... I mean spend some time writing up a little piece of my past for you all to enjoy. The decision was helped along by a comment read over on Cranky Prof's site (her link is over in the corner, check her out.) regarding the popularity of Chinese symbols in tattoos.*

Several years ago, a friend stopped by my apartment one evening to kill some time and just shoot the breeze. Topics of conversation ranged from world politics to the previous weeks round of D&D we'd both been a part of**, but at one point he leaned forward a bit and flashed a bit of a tattoo peeking out from the edge of his tank top. I'd caught glimpses of it before, but never enough to see what it truly was. That night I finally decided to inquire – having a slight tattoo fetish and always wanting to know the story behind why someone got an image permanently drilled into their skin.

He turned beet red, grabbed at the neckline of his shirt, and gave a small laugh.

“This? It's what made me become a Buddhist.”

I was intrigued. I knew folks who got tattoos to show their beliefs to the world (heck, I've got a runic symbol on the small of my back to remind me of something important***), but I'd never heard of a tattoo changing a person's belief's afterwards. I asked him to explain. In his own words... more or less :

“Years ago I got into martial arts. Didn't do too bad either. Started fighting, won some rounds... thought I was tough shit. So one day I sauntered into a Chinese tattoo parlor and declared to the artist that I 'wanted the symbol for Ultimate Fighter, Perfect Warrior, you know the thing, in Chinese' on my chest. The guy looked at me funny, then asked to see what I had in mind. I got rather loud and brash and told him 'you know what I mean, what... don't you write Chinese? Just do it, I don't have all day.” The artist quietly went about sketching and finally handed me a page with intricate symbols scattered over it. 'This what you want?' Not really looking it over, I said “Yeah. Exactly. Make sure you get it centered.' ' You sure this is what you want? Why not have some friends look it over. Sleep on it.' At this point I exploded, 'Just DO it!' And 45 minutes later I sauntered out of the shop, proud I hadn't let any stupid artiste try to bully me.

Over the next few months I dated a lot of girls I picked up at the fights. Mostly Asian girls... to go with my new 'samurai ' mentality. Nearly got somewhere with all of them, but never could quite seal the deal. At critical moments when we'd start to get somewhere... but they always pulled back and seemed to look at me funny. Finally, months later I was working hard to pick up this one women I had met at the end of a fight, when she stopped and cocked her head at me.

'Why... why do you have THAT on your chest?' she asked me, pointing at my tattoo now clearly visible through my open shirt. 'What, this? I got it when I started fighting. Its my lucky reminder of what I am.' 'What you are. You WANTED that?' ' I'm a fighter and a warrior. Of course I do.' She seemed a bit startled, and then asked suddenly – 'What do you think it says?' 'What do you mean, what does it say. Can't you read it?' 'Yes, and that's why I'm curious.' 'Obviously', I said condescendingly ' it says Ultimate Fighter, Perfect Warrior... that kind of thing...' I trailed off as her head started to shake and the corners of her mouth twitched. 'It doesn't? What do you mean it doesn't... what does it say?' With a grin she said calmly, ' roughly translated? Stupid white boy should do his homework.' with that she walked away.

I was stunned. And shocked. Horrified. Angry. Pissed... but finally settled on embarrassed. With a little bit of digging, I found out she had been right. All this time spent beating my chest, proud of my superior standing... and I had been making a fool of myself. In more than one way.”

At this point in his story, I interrupted. “Why do you still have it? And how does an embarrassing tattoo equate a religious shift?”

“I'll always keep it. Helps me to remember two very important things in life.”

“What, don't piss off a tattooer right before he inks you?”

“Well, that... and when I start to think I know everything, I just looked down and remember. I'm just a stupid white boy who needs to do his homework.” he grinned. “And to always research anything I want inked onto my body beforehand!”

Night folks.

* And no, mom. I don't have one on me... any tattoos I have will be in languages I can decipher.
**Yup. I'm THAT kind of nerd.
***Sometimes my memory is a bit faulty and I need a reminder to get through the fog. Long story that would involve someone getting me really REALLY good mead before I tell it.

Making Hay

2008-09-03T06:02:00.000-07:00

Well, September is here at last – bringing with it all the end of season desperation as the Prime Geek and myself try to figure out all that we need to get done before the cold is upon us. The chimney sweep has to be scheduled, the log pile must go higher, and only a few weeks left to get in whatever I can from the local farms.

Oh, yeah. I should probably confess to something.

My garden this year?

Sucketh the teat mightily.

Between a weather pattern controlled by Mother Natures schizophrenic sister Marge, multiple jobs that had us out of town at critical moments, and an infestation of some burrowing critter – I got a couple of bunches of basil, 2 tomatoes, and a whole lot of grief. We're going to plan better for next year, as well as see about some alternative ideas (staying home more of the summer is a big part of the plan!) to put into use... but for this year? Its farmers markets and whatever local produce I can find at good prices at the grocery.

At the moment I'm working my way through some gigantic green peppers from a local farm. I took a look through my grocery notes from last winter and one of the recurring gripes was the outrageous price of green and red peppers at the store. At one point hitting a high of $3.19 PER PEPPER (Green, to make it somehow even worse. I simply stopped looking at the red by November.) and staying there for 3 months. We use peppers 2-3 times a week, in everything from stirfrys to sauces, but I just can't justify spending more on a lone pepper then I do on a pound of meat! So, when the sale flyer on the doorstep proclaimed “Locally Grown Green Pepper – 2/$1” I'm jumping on it.

Today will find me slicing my way through about fifteen bucks worth of green globes. I'm slicing them thin – perfect for stirfrys but easy enough to hatchet through when I make sauce – and flash freezing them on cookie sheets. Then, its into ziploc bags until needed. As for red peppers?

There is a brand available at our local discount store that comes from Indiana (one state away). Nowadays, I'm trying to remember to chuck a jar of red peppers into my cart every time I shop. At $1.79 a jar, from only one state away, with 4 roasted peppers in each jar... I can't really afford to go for fresh.

Time to make hay folks, I'm trying to get as much put away as possible before the weather turns on us. Anything YOU remember wishing wasn't so expensive last winter? Because between transportation costs skyrocketing, weird weather, and tight budgets due to energy prices... plan on if it was high last year, its gonna be higher still this one.

An odd question...

2008-08-31T18:00:00.000-07:00

Not really what I planned on posting tonight, in fact I have a huge mass of stuff to go up this week – but I'm faced with a quandary and not sure where else to put my question. And after all, isn't the web here to find out weird answers to awkward questions?

I have an odd allergy. Several in fact, but the one that presents the biggest problem for me lately is this – Weed makes me sick as a dog. Didn't go for it in college (nothing kills the vibe at a party faster then having the girl you're offering a toke to puke on your shoes), and I stay away from it as an adult. The smell makes me ill faster then chicken salad left in the hot afternoon sun. Headaches, nausea, and a general desire to see the happy tokers heads placed on nearby spikes.

Now, don't get me wrong. Medically – its a great plant. I've always been of the opinion it should be legal and taxed to heck and back, and if you are choosing to smoke it and are willing to take the possible consequences of getting caught, go you. Just don't bring it into my car, my house, my tent, and we're cool. I'm not the police, I really really don't care. I have far too many other issues in my life to be worrying about what you're doing in your own home.

Except.

For the last month or so, some nit has been lighting up at dusk and as the wind blows this-a-way rather steady, I'm screwed. Head pounding, nauseous, wanting to either kill someone or merely curl up and die myself. Either could work at the moment. Closing the windows just seals what got in, in – as well as forcing the house temp up 10-20 degrees which really isn't all that great when its already a hot night.

Not sure who (we have a dozen or so houses to choose from and isn't THAT a fun little fact finding mission to enter into) and without a name the cops really can't give us any help. There is also the little fact that I'm not really wanting to get folks involved with the police – we already get looked at funny for reporting two domestics that had reached the street (as well as reached for blades) and a few plain jane street fights. Ahhhh... the city in the summer. I'll call the cops if I have to, but I don't have anything except “Yes, excuse me, can you come and sniff the neighbors to find out who's giving me a headache?” and I don't see that as a viable opening sequence for COPS, do you?

So. Any ideas on how to handle this? Suggestions on getting rid of the smell? Getting it out of bedclothes? I lived far too much of a straight-edged life as a kid, I suppose, 'cause I have NO idea how to deal with this little life irritation.

Help?

Could be considered a green post, I suppose. At least I'm the right color at the moment.

Misc.

2008-08-30T15:27:00.000-07:00

Reasons to turn “shuffle” off on the ipod.

15 minutes into meditatively digging in the bag yard listening to a long set of Enya, having Britney Spears “Piece of Me” suddenly come on not only causes a tragic gearshift of the mental facilities... it can cause some severe embarrassment in when your neighbor's children catch you singing along.

It also makes a person question what a grown women is doing WITH Britney Spears on her music playlist....

Thinking Towards Frost

2008-08-25T10:49:00.000-07:00

There is something about the last long spate of August heat that makes me start working a little bit faster towards getting our home buttoned up for the coming winter. With heating prices rocketing upwards and a possibly long cold winter ahead (at the moment the Almanac and the Weather Channel are duking it out – the first warns of an abnormally frigid winter while the other claims it will be mild. The geeky side of me wants to believe the science will be right... but as I've often stared out a window at lashings of rain pelting down while the weather channel is cheerfully telling me its bright and sunny out – I have my doubts. And so I plan for the worst and hope for the best) we're trying to get the nest snug and ready for snow to fly.

To that end, we spent the better portion of yesterday felling an old tree in a coworker of the PG's yard and chopping it into luggable sizes. We've got two face cords and a bit already seasoned, split, stacked and ready to roll – with tons more to cut and carry.

While I know I waxed lyrical of my love of our soapstone woodburner last year, allow me to tell you all just WHY wood heat is the best heat.

It heats you
1st when you find and drag it out
2nd when you cut it
3rd when you split it
4th when you carry it to the trailer
5th when you unload it
6th when you stack it
7th when you carry it in
8th when you burn it
and 9th when you lug out the ashes....

Try and see how far you get with gas or electric! At the best you'll get three times with those - 1st when you use it, 2nd when you get the bill and go hot with anger, and 3rd when you get that second job to pay for it!

Oh... I forgot the 10th way wood heats you – the long hot bath you have to take to soak out the aches caused by 8 of the previous heats!

Results In My Own Unscientific Study

2008-08-23T01:27:00.000-07:00

A brainblot tonight as insomnia is stalking this nerd again – and here I lay with no carpet left to rip.

Anyway. Like a lot of you, lately I've been bombarded with information regarding the fast becoming ubiquitous substance high fructose corn syrup. From articles blasting it as the food additive equivalent of Hitler and Mussolini to others regarding it as the newest item on a long list of greenwashing hysteria. After a few months of searching I finally have tracked down a copy of King Corn, I have several more tons of information to wade through before I get it all squared in my head... but I do have one tiny piece of research the Prime Geek and myself have concluded today to add to all the other you might have read.

One of the big vices PG an I indulge in daily soda consumption. (Hey, we recycle the cans at least!) Between acknowledged caffeine addictions*and allergies that make something cold and fizzy a requirement first thing out of bed in the morning (only thing we have found that cuts overnight drainage) we can put away a solid case+ a week between the two of us. Not so great on our stomachs, pantsize, or general health. As most of you no doubt know, HF Corn Syrup is usually one of the first ingredients in most sodas – Mexican Coke and Jone's Soda being two of the few who use simple sugar. Well, three weeks ago we both gave up regular soda and switched completely over to diet drinks (and water, juice, milk, etc.). We still can put away a case+ a week away, and there has been little other change in our day to day diets. (Very few other items with HFCS are eaten here, most of our food is home cooked from scratch anymore.)

I've always had.... tummy trouble. Let's leave it at that. More details aren't required unless I'm sitting in front of you in a paper gown. But pretty severe tummy troubles at times. Sometimes even socially unacceptable tummy trouble joins the rest.... still with me?

Three weeks – and its nearly nil. I expected the pant size to start sliding down a bit more than normal (I'm not dieting, just trying to get healthier so its a slow slide... but it IS a slide.) but I certainly wasn't expecting something like this. And as a bit more proof in my own mind about HFCS, yesterday I forgot for a moment and grabbed a non-diet soda while I was out and about running my errands.

I've been sick to my stomach since. I don't think its psychosomatic, as I honestly didn't realize what I had grabbed until I was doubled up in the bathroom wondering why my body hated me and my eye fell on the empty bottle.

Coincidence? Perhaps. I've got more reading to do... but I will say this. While I'm not going to get rabid about this yet... I am going back to diet and skipping the high octane stuff for now. Proof of the evil of HFCS? No, but maybe enough to make you try your own little test to see how the stuff affects you.

*Gee. Wonder if THAT has anything to do with the insomnia?
A slight warning if you haven't been following the trials and tribulations of High Fructose Corn Syrup. Its in just about EVERYTHING, so dropping it from your diet can be a pain at first.

Not Exactly Green

2008-08-19T16:35:00.000-07:00

But definitely nerdy.

Today, a box arrived for the Prime Geek. One he's been muttering and giggling over quite manically for the last few hours as he struggles to set it up.

After months of fiddling with building a projector tv, wondering about drop down installs from the ceiling, and crawling over various bits bobs and boxes I cracked. Anything to restore some form of order and space in our living room. I agreed to a suggestion he had made at the beginning of the year. I was weak.

And now? A new television arrived today. A big one. A really big one.

47 inches big.

Any idea how big that is, I mean really? Frakking HUGE. Larger than my mother in law. The thing is a monster... and while he will claim I knew how big he was ordering – I hold anything over a yard in size becomes a little too big to really get a grasp on until you see it in real life and not on a computer screen. And as I look at in in my living room all I can think is – Whoa.

There are good reasons for the new tv. Our old has been humming and whining at a high pitched screech for months, it won't be compatible with HD, and it takes up so much room on its cart that the space is too cramped for much company (at least the new one hangs from the wall out of the way). Its been months since we could watch a dvd on anything other than our laptops (the input receptor having broken at the beginning of the year) – fine for personal viewing, but not great to cuddle with your honey while watching. Heck, I'll even confess I'm kinda chuffed over knowing we can start having movie parties again.* Toss in the sad fact I can't really go to the theater (two hours in a cold dark room, in cramped seats, expensive and crappy tasting snacks, people crunched in around you, and the inability to get up and move when I need to makes both my fibro and my temper flare) anymore... and I'm kinda secretly pleased about our new toy.

But...

Seriously.

Freaking HUGE.

I'm just saying.

*As geeky as it sounds, before we were married we would invite people over to his old place - with the Big Screen tv - and have theme movie nights. Yes, we even do fondue.

Why Homemade is Just Better

2008-08-18T17:33:00.001-07:00

Because I have yet to find a grocery that sell me anything that will beat freshly made strawberry sorbet – made with local berries, lime juice, a touch of raw sugar...

and triple shots of pineapple rum and blue tequila.

Mmmm. Natural AND nutritious. Not to mention tasty.

Night.

Possible Profanity Warning – Justified Though...

2008-08-08T05:35:00.000-07:00

As I wrote the other day, I pulled the nasty, white(ish) indoor-outdoor carpeting out of our dining room the other day – saving us from old stains and even older odors. Still have the trim to do (that's a next week job), but its out and its gone – happily disposed of and out of our lives. And I might have mentioned the nastiness continued upstairs in our bedroom.

I couldn't leave the job half done, now could I?

With the dining room finished and freshened, the master bedroom began to wear on my nerves even more. Toss in yet ANOTHER moment of rudeness by one of our cats directly next to the head of the bed and I was forced to act. (Waiting until the Prime Geek had safely left the premises so I didn't have to work around him asking awkward questions. Like – What are you doing, why are you carrying a steak knife, what's that smell, are your feet bleeding? Things like that just get in the way.) A quick pull of the carpet by the door confirmed the existence of tile and I even attempted to be adult about this whole deal by double checking a corner over on the opposite side of the room in case the “new” addition hadn't been treated the same way. A little tug, and I'd know enough to plan my assault over the next few days.

Well, I planned to plan it that way anyway. Instead of a little tug, it required two knives, a flathead screwdriver, several bitten back words of profanity, and two more broken nails. The &%*#^$ had GLUED it down in places. Result? Not a small portion of carpet coming up discreetly... no, instead a three foot chunk of carpet dust raining down on my head as I fell onto my ass from the sudden release. I'll confess, at this point the profanity wasn't so bitten back. More... hissed out. Carpet may also have been thrown against a wall as well. Just a bit. Let's just say I temporarily lost some of my “being mature” points.

With that, my day took on a whole new look. No more “looking”, no more “future planning”. That crap was coming out and it was coming out NOW.

I knew it would be bad. I knew what the cats had been doing. I knew it was old... what I didn't know was I would develop an overwhelming and burning hatred for whoever installed the damn stuff in the first place. Any guesses as to why the cats might have been marking their territory?

Some mother-loving jackass NAILED, GLUED, and STAPLED 1/8 inch open cell foam onto the tiles underneath.... ON TOP OF FRAKKING DOG CRAP!!!!!!!!!

Old, dessicated dog crap, but dog crap nonetheless. Yeah. No wonder my cats had become neurotics constantly feeling the need to mark their territory. If every moment you smelled a big invisible dog in your home, you might get a bit tetchy yourself*

Toss in a leaning towards Jackson Pollack when it came to staples (at least 100 in random swirls by the door as a start – not through the carpet mind you.. no no. Just through the foam-esque material.) hundreds of unfinished nails somehow sticking pointy side up – my feet look like someone took a meat tenderizer to them – an odd fondness for glue in haphazard patches, and more then 30 years of filth, grime, piss, and God know's what that had seeped through the padding AND what had been sealed UNDER the padding and you have one shudder inducing afternoon.

Five trashbags**, four scrubbings with everything from a green floor cleaner to bleach, seven showers, and unnumbered applications of medicinal rum to keep me from thinking too hard about what the PG and I have been breathing for the last year and a half, and its done. It's not pretty – the floor will be refinished in the spring and until then its just new floor strips and some soon-to-be knitted rugs tossed over the worse spots. Its ugly, its old....

and I love it more then kittens in springtime because for the first time ever – my house feels cleared and clean.

Where'd Smelly Dog Go?

Now... if I can just get a few moments with the souless doghearted imbossed carbunkle*** who put it in, I'd be happy. I may need a baseball bat and a few moments alone.

*I'm going with big due to size issues under the padding. The other option is too horrific to contemplate.
**I confess to failing my green leanings with this stuff. So nasty when the underneath was exposed, it simply got taken to a dumpster and left. I know I should have looked for the "proper" disposal place, but by that point I was cut, bleeding from hundreds of little stabs to the feet, nose and eyes running and burning from the dust and filth, and more concerned about the nosebleed running down my throat -which I still have -to really care all that much about Mother Earth. Just this once, she can be a big girl and deal!
***Shakespearian insulted substituted because my first three tries would have gotten me kicked out of a navy bar. That... and my mom reads this sometimes.

Inspired Insomnia

2008-08-07T03:02:00.000-07:00

Since early childhood I've dealt with constant insomnia and the curse of being a light sleeper. Like my father, I toss and turn and often finally give up completely and simply read the night through when sleep eludes my grasp. I've always been jealous of both my older brother and my mother who fall asleep as soon as their heads touch a pillow (the fact the Prime Geek can fall asleep in the time it takes to draw a breath in a sentence is a bit of a pain as well!). My usual routine during times of unrest is simple enough : 1- 3 hours of sleep for a week or so, crash and burn (often spectacularly) and sleep for 12 hours, repeat.

I've tried prescriptions (which I now know to avoid at all costs due to my wonky system), over the counter pills (not much good for the long term, once you find yourself taking 8 a night to sleep even 4 hours you know you're in trouble), teas that taste of horse piss, and herbal remedies that smell even worse.* Mostly to no avail.

No matter how tired I may be, how far nerves may be stretched thin and jangling by living on the border of exhaustion – it does have its uses. There will come a point (usually near the end of the cycle, often mere hours before the aforementioned crash and burn) when I can't take laying in bed staring at the ceiling for one second more and I end up propelling myself headlong into a massive project that had been left simmering on the back burner for far too long.**

To that end?

For months the Prime Geek and I have struggled in a losing battle against our carpets in the bedroom and dining room. From cats who have preformed some pretty horrid acts of social disobedience during fits of pique, to guests who honestly don't know why my jaw clenches as they casually spill soda onto the floor***, and previous owners who must have never cleaned it a day in its life - to name just a few reasons why our elderly carpets had reached horrific levels of grossness. I've steam cleaned, sprayed, scrubbed, and sobbed – all doing little to help in the long term. We've meant to pull it up for months and one project after another would stall out the plan.

Well, a few days ago, after staring blearily at a ceiling for what seemed like hours – I went into action. Leaving a snoring husband curled up in bed and armed with nothing more then a steak knife, a pair of old scissors, trash bags, broom & mop, and three cats determined to help in this new “game” I ripped through 40 years of nastiness. Three hours, two broken nails, and six trash bags later I had uncovered an old linoleum floor that will serve us until spring when we can replace it. Another hour spent scrubbing years of filth and ick off and we have a new floor. Not perfect by any means, I've already started the rag rugs we'll need to scatter over the floor to cover old paint spills, digs, and divots – but serviceable. Added bonus? The whole downstairs smells fresh and new. I shudder to think about what we've been breathing in all these months. Even better? Seeing the PG's face when he stumbled down the stairs that morning to be confronted by a remodeled home.

One day I hope to conquer this sleep cycle, but until I do... I'm getting a heck of a lot done!

* I've come to the conclusion that Valerian works not by helping you sleep - instead its smell (a lovely mix of rotting flesh and cat pee) simply renders its victim unconscious.
** What occurs is simple - I start a fevered project that I refuse to leave half finished and work myself into a stupor. But at least its productive, right?
*** Don't get me wrong. I love my friends and enjoy having company. Its just few of them have their own homes (many living in group dens) and therefore don't really care if they spill red wine or hot cocoa on the floor. No doubt to tweaks me more due to having a mother who owns her own cleaning business.

The Anting Days of Summer

2008-08-05T11:53:00.000-07:00

While we mostly refer to August as the dog days of summer, there is something about this hot and sticky time that kicks my anting habits into hyperdrive. As the humidity levels soar and my brain begins to melt, a tiny voice in the back of my head starts warning me of frost and snow... and wants to know what I plan to do to get ready. After months of waiting around for fresh garden goods and hungry for even one piece of local bounty, it all arrives in a heap – no time to think, no time to plan, just hurry hurry hurry before it all begins to rot around me.

This last weekend found me making like Lady Macbeth, wandering the house wondering how I was ever going to get the damn spots off my hands. Luckily, it wasn't the lifeblood of my liege, just the result of slogging my way through 42 POUNDS of cherries. The grocery store down the road had a sale on local cherries* - a miracle sale of 1.99lb instead of their usual 6.99. I love sweet cherries. Actually, I adore sweet red cherries, but I can never bring myself to spend so much on fruit – heck, my meat price cutoff point is $3.99 a pound and THAT'S only for special occasions. Usually, I'll allow myself a few ruby orbs as a treat – but to buy enough to put up? Couldn't do it. When I saw the sale I was wavering... when I saw they were local I caved. Hard. But can you blame me? Check out the size of these beauties:

(Yup, bigger then a quarter!)

We have cherry bounce, cherries frozen with raw sugar, cherries flash frozen plain, cherry bars, dried cherries, and enough cherries eaten out of hand I'll not need lipstick for a few weeks.
Not a bit is going to waste – cherry pits are cleaning as we speak for a project for tomorrow, even cherry stems are in the tinder box (they add a sweet smell when tossed into the wood burner).

More of my cherry jubilation tomorrow, I'm off for another bath. I seem to have gotten cherry juice in the oddest places.

* No organic this time. Frankly, the last batch I got was virtually useless – crawling with bugs, quickly passing fermenting to plain rotting. Sadly, the farmers market the Prime Geek and I had tried seemed to be cashing in on “organic” without bothering to try for “quality” as well. And at 9.99 a pound... not something I'm willing to waste cash on.

Bringing Home the Pot Roast

2008-07-31T18:26:00.000-07:00

Vegetarians might wanna give tonight a pass. Just a suggestion. Come back tomorrow, I promise this will be all over with.

(Looks around) They gone? Good. Nothing bad meant to my wandering leaf-munching friends, but this gal is stuck in her omnivorous ways and I really don't see that changing anytime soon. I've tried the veggie path – and to me it will never be more than just a side dish. I'll grant you, this last year nearly scared me away from meat – red and white, scaled or furry, I nearly walked away shaking in my shoes. One recall after another filling my nightmares with e. coli and salmonella, horror stories of unbelievable cruelty in slaughterhouses that belong only in slasher movies, mystery meat of unknown providence being brought in under inspectors unsuspecting noses. Too many aseptic packages of graying meat plumped with “flavor enhancing” injections, too many bundles of meat from who knows where.

The Prime Geek and I sat down one morning a few months ago and agreed it was time for some serious changes. A few weeks of searching (unnecessary in the end, my mom found our supplier. Ah well, at least we did the footwork for the future.) and we found ourselves waiting for a phone call to change our eating habits for the next year. Five weeks of slowly eating our way through mystery packages tucked into the standing freezer since our move in over a year ago, meals of “I'll tell you when it thaws!”, and wondering why in the world we had so many packages of frozen zucchini.*

A phone call at last, some shuffling of coolers, and we were off. A visit to my folks, a mildly strained back, and some seriously tasty cookies fresh from Amish country and we're back.

170 pounds of beef. If it sounds like a lot... and it is. 70 pounds of ground beef and the rest in roasts, chops, steaks, and stew meat – all the red meat we'll eat this year. Alright, maybe not all... we do entertain quite a bit (although you'd be shocked how far I can stretch a stew). But a good chuck tucked away for the winter. At 2.09 a pound (a bit more for hamburger than I usually pay, but a heck of a lot cheaper for ribeye steaks) it was a deal I couldn't pass over – good thing too. The corn crunch and fuel expenses have since made the butcher/farmer double their prices on meat. We squeaked by in the last two days of the old price.

Now. Is it organic? Nope. But I know the family that owns the farm (and the butcher shop) and according to the owner (who went to school with my brother, how much more local can you get? Gotta love a shop where if something is off you can call his mother to complain!) they can't afford to go through the whole “organic thing”. But he says with a shrug, “Its cheaper to let them eat grass while its growing, we only feed corn in the winter. Why give them shots they really don't need, its easier to treat if they get sick.” In other words, do the right thing, keep your head down, and you'll get some great quality product in the end. I feel pretty happy about supporting a family business, even better that its helping to keep a friend afloat, thrilled to know exactly where my meat came from, and even happier that I have that much more prepared for the upcoming winter.

I'll admit a certain... sadness? No, finality I suppose is a better term, for knowing I – me personally – helped to cause the life of a critter to end. My order tied up the last one needed on one specific cow, so as the phone hung up, J went out and brought the bull in for the final night. But... I've been to that farm, I know the boys who drop the hammer, I know the life that critter lead, and how after 10 years those farmboys still go quiet when its time to end it all. Quick and clean, a good comfortable life ended as well as can be expected.

I'll be doing this again, in fact I doubt I'll be buying meat from a grocery ever again. A good day all around, I think.

Plus... my mother just called. She tried her first hamburger today out of her order. To quote her -

“I didn't know THIS is what its supposed to taste like! What crap have I been shoveling in before this?”

Now she wants to start looking at this whole “green thing” a lot closer. With little steps the changes get made.

*I swear, I think the stuff breeds in there. That would explain the odd random sounds coming from my freezer at night........

Mind the Tumbleweeds...

2008-07-28T22:53:00.000-07:00

And... we're back. Again.

Mostly. More or less. Alright, how about – I'm really working on it?

Sheesh, take a month or so off and the world thinks you've up and died*. This last month or so has found the Prime Geek and myself wandering around in a bit of a daze as we stumble around trying to gather our sadly scattered wits. We've been dealing with family “issues”, oddly driven ant-like behavior, and a mountain of projects to tackle.

To sum up for friends and family alike who wander through here in an attempt to keep up with hubby and I, the family issues in brief are:

Baby Grace – still alive, but clearly enjoying her ability to turn family members into nervous wrecks. I swear, this child has had more “She's Better!” followed by “Crap, what do you mean she isn't breathing?” moments then a year of soap opera hijinx. If/when she reaches 18, I swear I'll be joining a long list of family who will be sending her our bills for either the years of costly therapy caused by nervous tics... or our bar tabs caused by the same.

Prime Geeks mother – well. Let us just say that in a few months once things are resolved we may very well be having a sit down regarding her tendency to avoid doctors for too long and how I'm perfectly capable of drop kicking her 4'9 tuckus into a car and forcing the issue next go-round. Not going to go into details, but if your doctor has told you to get a colonoscopy and you've ducked it? Get off your rear and go. Seriously. Now. I'll wait.

School – both the PG and myself are headed back. Him to finish his Bachelor's, me to grab another Associate's (I seem to collect them like stamps and beanie babies.)

As for making like an ant and our projects? While it may be the middle of summer, for reasons known only to our hindbrains we've been scurrying around trying to nail down ever loose thread for the upcoming winter. I'm not sure if its the weird economy, the sad fact that hotter summers seem to lead to colder winters, or just a hardwired need to nest, but our to-do lists keep growing and the feeling of needing to get things ready is pretty pressing.

Luckily, the very projects and twitchy behavior are forcing us even farther into our green dreams. Now that I'm back, I'll be letting ya'll in on our successes AND our failures. (Frankly, I expect the latter will be rather more often then I'd like... but at least its usually entertaining.)

Tomorrow a few picture of our latest foray into local living... and how I now know exactly how many bodies I can stuff into my freezer.

What?

*I've actually come to the conclusion I'm immortal. Between a dicky heart and a serious case of the klutzes, I've shuffled off the mortal coil a few dozen plus times – only to be rather rudely shoved back into a world I can apparently take taxes as my only certainty. Men with Scottish accents make me a tad nervous.**
** Sometimes, my level of nerdiness can scare even me.

Just Doing My Part

2008-07-09T12:50:00.000-07:00

Sometimes, the search for steps to make a lighter impact is a tough one. Being green these days can be hard and often backbreaking work – from digging out the garden, to rerouting the rain gutters into water barrels.

And sometimes?

Its as easy as sitting on the front porch pitting cherries while you listen to a summer rainstorm.
This morning found me sprawled over my porch's beat up couch, idly working my way through a pound or so of local organic cherries I picked up yesterday at a new farmer's market the Prime Geek and myself checked out. With fingers stained a cheery red (I look like I'm about to go sleepwalking while plotting the death of my husband's foes – Out, Out, Da... well. You know.), I finished the last of the luscious orbs as the well trickled to a halt at last.

What to do, what to do.

Normally, I'll flash freeze fruit and have it sitting safe and chilly for the upcoming winter. Or perhaps make a batch of jellies to smear on homemade bread when the snow swirls. However, I'm desperately trying clear the freezer at the moment – in time for an upcoming delivery weighing in at a staggering 175 pounds* – and space is at a premium. Jams? Nice... but it was 93' yesterday, and while the heat has broken a bit thanks to the rain... I'm still not looking forward to a long haul in a steamy kitchen. Drying? That's a job for tomorrow (I'm picking up more of these lovelies in the morning – far too good a deal to pass by) I do believe.

Instead, I think I'll see what it takes to make a cherry bounce.

No, I'm not chucking them for distance – I'm getting them well and truly drunk. Two quart mason jars – complete with lids and rings, two pint jars – ditto, a bottle of VSOP brandy, another of white rum, a wee bit of raw sugar, and two lemons. That should get my fruit lit.

A simple formula to make yourself some holiday cheer. Just wash the jars good and clean (same with the lids) them into each drop a few inches of pitted cherries**. A handful of the raw sugar, lemon zest & its juice sprinkled on top. Glug into one quart and one pint the run, into the remaining two the brandy. Lid and shake until dizzy and your pets are looking at you oddly. Or at least odder than usual.

Keep in a sunny spot for two weeks, then hide your jewels in a cool dark place until the chilly holiday of your choice arrives. Strain – and... well. We'll see. Sounds tasty at least.

Ahhh. Just doing my part to make the world a little cleaner.

*More on this later.
**Okay. Fine. Mine aren't pitted, I sliced mine in half and dug out the pits. The one piece of kitchen schmeck I don't own happens to be a cherry pitter.

And.... We're back.

2008-07-01T13:23:00.000-07:00

Sorry about the prolonged absence, its been a long month. As my brain is stilled crispy around the edges, I'll give a simple list as a snapshot of what the nerd has been up to. Normal updates will resume later this week.

1- The company the Prime Geek works for? Rocks. While I'll never book a trip on Monarch of the Seas myself* send my spouse and I for free and I'll be packed in an hour.

2- Ohio when we left - 92'. Mexico when we arrived – 52'. Some aspects of the global warning issues got joked about.

3- Children on airlines are often better then adults, I'm sadly out of my depth when a tween star from Disney sits beside me (seriously, I think I crushed a young soul when I had to explain I had no idea who the Jonas Brothers are. Still don't.), and some grownups need remedial lessons in manners when stuck in a confined space with other humans.

4- Pandas can bounce on their bums after 40+ feet drops, I now have far too many pictures of koala bums then is really necessary, and when confronted by any itty bitty of the animal kingdom I will still issue a high pitched squeal more in keeping with an eleven year old girl.

5- NEVER EVER book a trip through Monarch of the Seas. Repeated food poisoning and a pretty careless time sense (never a good thing when being left in a country not your own is a possible outcome to a late bus.) make for a difficult time. I WOULD however offer any of the people working on board from 26 countries a job anytime. Quite possibly the friendliest, best trained, highest educated bunch of folks this nerd has ever met. The blue hair went over well with most of the workers from Asian countries as well.

6- Attempting to camp for 8 days after being out of the country less than a week before is a game for younger people. This nerd is too old for that horse pucky.

7- When to leave the campout early = RAIN OF FROGS! Seriously. Hail, flood, rather harsh injuries on the field, lightening... all fine and dealable. When the locusts and the june bugs hit we were still fine. Frogs suddenly hitting our tent? Packed and loaded while keeping an eye out for a tall skinny dude carrying a farming implement.

Night.

*Okay, here's the issue. Monarch of the Seas? Beautiful boat. Service? Amazing. But here's the thing for me... the sheer mountain of cross contamination regarding food allergies was something that is going to get someone killed. We'd filled out the forms listing my allergies, I still got plate after plate of shrimp tossed in front of me. Everything cooked together, nothing posted (oh so fun to reach for some plain rice at a buffet and suddenly seeing a random crab claw sticking out), no warnings or options given. We even talked to the head waiter and was told “Oh yes. Some people where telling us they had children with severe peanut allergies as well” then they walked off. Okay.... so you KNOW you could kill someone, you just don't care. Greeeaaat.

Please.... Let's Not Talk About Global Warming Today

2008-05-29T09:44:00.000-07:00

Honestly, I do believe. Really. But while one half of the country is staggering under the blows of a triple digit heat wave... this nerd is still sleeping with the electric mattress pad, three blankets, and a self-heating hubby wrapped around her. A low of 31 at night is just not something I had planned to deal with in late May.

I'm feeling a tad frustrated at the moment. My tomato plants (started several months ago) are beginning to wither under the strain of being kept inside, the farmers markets have been pushed back several weeks – if not longer - due to poor planting condition, we ran out of firewood for the woodburner a month ago (we have managed to keep the gas furnace off... using small electric zone heaters when forced), and the Prime Geek has been forced to use the jeep instead of the scooter to get to work due to frost covered roads and the occasional ice slick. What worries me the most is for a brief period of time, my town and surrounding areas was beginning to take a turn for the green – but the longer we drag our feet into summer the harder the sell seems to be for more self-sufficient choices.

Eating more locally is a hard push as well. One good week of warm weather is just enough for people to put their guards down and plant – only to lose everything to a hard frost lasting weeks. I have managed to finally source most of my families meat needs locally, so thats at least something. But I'm tired of stews and hot comforting foods. I should have berries, salads, and grilled items filling out our diets – this is not the time of year to be needing heavy comfort food.

Its not all gloom and doom of course. I have managed to score one local item that fills me with glee. During a recent visit from friends (who we are helping to find their perfect wedding venue) we stumbled upon a small local winery not more then 5 miles (okay, 4.71 if you want to be exact) from our front door where I found a marriage made in heaven. I'm a sucker for a sweet red wine and, being female, equally found of chocolate. Somehow the good folks at Viking Vineyard http://www.vikingvineyards.com/ have managed to combine to two into a single glass. Locally grown grapes, locally bottled, heck... the proprietors are local as well. One bottle of Red Kiss is resting on our wine rack.... and if it doesn't warm up soon (and STAY warmed up) I'm going to start collecting this sole local fruit by the caseload! I'm either going to get warmed by the sun, or I'll start working on it internally.

Memorial Day

2008-05-26T09:43:00.000-07:00

As the daughter of a retired Marine ( I learned at an early age to never say "former"... ) I grew up surrounded by the men who had become my father's brothers during his time in active service.

I've never served, and at nearly 30* I doubt I ever will. But parts of the military trickle through your subconscious as you grow. I can spot a veteran at 30 yards. Its the walk, the stance, the unconscious scanning of the crowd around them.

Heck. Almost every Marine pilot has the same dang hairline as my dad.

I've heard the stories - some loudly laughed over at the dinner table, others half heard as my brother and I struggled to still our breathing enough to hear the murmurs that filtered through our bedroom as my father tried to put his own ghosts to rest. The rest can be told in the stiffening jaw, the quiet grip on anothers arm, the ducked head and indrawn breath as a name from long ago is heard. I got really good at reading my father and my "uncles."

I've grown up in the thick of these men and women. I wish I had the right words to say how much I respect them, how much I treasure them...

No poetry, no flowery words, can really say what needs to be said. All I have is this -

Thank you.

And a promise to never forget.

Have a wonderful day today folks.

* Ye gods... that was scary to write. But the important part is nearly... as in almost 18 months. Now the Prime Geek on the other hand....

Insert Groan Here

2008-05-22T14:54:00.001-07:00

There is an actual post that is struggling to be written coherently and hopefully with a touch of humor which should be up in a few hours.... but I just received a call and I thought it might be a good idea to pass it on.

Apparently a friend who's husband runs a gas station got the word that they could raise prices as high as $4.30 in the next day or so. ( its a large chain, so I'm thinking this is a universal) so if you're needing gas for your Memorial Day plans... now might be the time to move your tuckus.

I'm not saying stock up, we're all in this mess together and I don't see it getting easier for a while especially if folks are hording (not to mention great walloping cans of gas in your garage are not the safest things to have on hand) but if you have a long haul and needed to fill up anyway... might be time to motor.

Sheesh. Its gone up $0.20 this week already... now another $0.35.

Glad the bike just needs new headlights and then it can roll.

Off to fill up for the weekend. I have family coming into town and masses of dirt and plants to move.

I'm Blue.... (In other words, a non-green, non-cheap, but plenty nerdy posting)

2008-05-20T15:02:00.000-07:00

Da Ba Dee Da Ba Daa?*

Not mentally, I'm pretty cheerful today in fact. No, I mean literally.

Well, partially.

After two years of sticking to strictly “normal” hair experimentation, I finally cracked : called a friend, handed over cash, sat for far too long in bleach fumes, and walked out of the salon looking like the offspring of a drunken Amazon and a peacock.

I've always done odd things off and on to my personal appearance. I've been a blond, a brunette, a red-haired lass, and have done the raven temptress for the last few years. Frankly, at this point I'm not sure what color my hair is under all the assorted gunk I've thrown on it – even my roots come in with differing colors (season, sunshine, heck – even mood has been known to switch my genetic levers and mess with my hair and eye color.). I've streaked it with purple, tried a few weeks with hot pink tips, and had an unfortunate spate of green following a blond attempt mixed unwisely with a job at a pool. I'm blessed with obscenely massive amounts of hair, and genes good enough to mean its pretty much always healthy. Thus... when boredom strikes, the hair is the first to fall. I figure worse case scenario, I might have to chop off a foot or so - it hit the waistband of my jeans a month or two ago... so its not like I wouldn't still HAVE a ton of hair.**

But past experiments with colors not found in nature notwithstanding... what would make a 28-year old housewife choose to make such an odd change?

A few reasons... the first is simple, as is the second. Blue is my favorite color, wearing it makes me happy. So – easy call there. The secondary reason that the Prime Geek gets a goofy smile on his face when he contemplates having a “Blue Haired Chick” for a wife is a bonus as well.

Harmless and transitory, all make it seem like a grand idea for the summer. Toss in working the odd gaming and Ren Faire events and there are even good business practices involved in the call as well.

But... there are two other reasons that motivate my choices to amp up my appearance. First, well, we've covered the height and the busty issue in the past. By coloring my hair an eye-catching color I get to pick what folks stare at first. When the follicles are taking the brunt of the attention, I get far fewer “Hey, you're really tall! Did you know that?”*** or “Are those REAL?****” and the eyes tend to stay pretty elevated.

Secondly? Call it an overwhelming desire to mess with people's perceptions. This nerd is a chameleon who can switch in and out of social situations with relative ease. What I consider my everyday closet, many folks would view as a costuming room for a movie set. I hang out with the nerd and the geeks, mix it up with the preps and the jocks, can slide in with the earth mommas and the techies. I grew up around bikers and business men, suits and street-rats, and the odd governmental official. I hate getting lumped into a set box, and refuse to answer to most labels. Why limit myself?

Far too often people make quick judgments and snap decisions based on nothing more then the cut of a suit or a color of hair. My first intense brush with this was when, at 21, I had added some vivid purple streaks to my black hair. While out running an errand for my mother I came up against a wall of stupidity and malice that took my breath away. I had just opened a door for an elderly women ahead of me when the sun came out from behind a mass of clouds causing the purple to shine in the bright sun. The women stopped thanking me for being a “nice girl” who opened the door for me, and began to curse me out thoroughly. The terms “Slut, nasty, shame to my parents, and better for all if my kind would die so I could hurry up and burn in hell” came out of this vitriolic old women.

I stood there, stunned. Mouth open, frankly gaping, my mind attempted to reboot and got a guttural “What?!?” forced out of my then dry throat. She pointed at my head (ignoring the long skirt, modest button down blouse, and earlier help) as though she had made a triumphant point and rushed away.

I stood there for a moment and watched this women as she scuttled down the street and realized I had but three options. Sink to the street and sob (immediately followed by an emergency trip to the salon and a meeting with a dye bottle), get angry and rush after the odd biddy - shaking her until her teeth rattled (and then explaining to the police what I was doing holding her upside down and shrieking “Show me in the bible where purple is a sin!”), or make the life altering decision to say to hell with what people say and be happy with who I am and stick to it as loud and as proud as I want to be.

You've read some of my work... guess which way this nerd went? From then to now, seven years, I've made it a day to day point to interject a little bit of the odd into people's lives. To show you can be this... AND be that. I can be a nice girl... and a touch ornery. I can be green... and still be blue. I can say what I think is right, and listen to other ideas. Use a touch of chaos to help recreate a new sense of order. So... today is blue day, and a happy one at that.

I've gotten a bit stagnant lately, working a little too hard to be a good housewife, a good writer, a good... whatever. I've gotten a bit lost in what people's perceptions of me are, and now I'm reconnecting with that slightly ornery, sometime trouble making, rabble rousing, babbling bard (who will confuse, confound, but bring you cookies while you try to regroup) deep inside.

A new page is turning, and I think this next chapter is getting written in bright blue.*****

Pictures perhaps in the evening.

*Eiffel 65. Pat yourself on the back if you got the reference.
** Please don't tell me I should donate it. Too much dye to give it away, and I do my charity work in other ways. Thanks anyway.
*** No. Really? Thank God! I thought everyone else was shrinking!
**** These? No, I'm just holding on to them for a friend.
***** And this concludes a post that had absolutely nothing to do with the blog's main thrust, just something I'm working through in my head.

Staff of Life

2008-05-14T12:40:00.000-07:00

After requests from a beleaguered big brother and a comment regarding a friend's possible bread and water fast... I figured I have tinkered with my daily bread recipe for long enough and its time to share. Bread prices are climbing steadily, and I refuse to pay $4 for a real loaf of bread (in other words... a loaf I can both spell AND pronounce all the ingredients inside). When even Wonder Bread – fit only for bread balls and ducks – hits $2.89 a loaf, its time to turn on the stove.

Or not... as it turns out for my newest obsession. I mentioned a month or two ago that I had begun to modify a recipe I had found in Rachel Ray's new magazine. A flatbread redolent of garlic with the nice chew of a loaf but the ease of a stove top model. Its a great basic recipe, a little salty for my tastes, but solid. I even made some pretty highbrow grilled cheese sandwiches for our dinner out of the bread. If a recipe with almost a whole head of garlic sounds promising, check out her site and search for Roasted Garlic Flatbread with Spicy Tomato Chutney. But however much the Prime Geek and I may adore the stinking rose... its not exactly multipurpose enough for my needs. Great for dinner, but after a morning when my brain hadn't popped on yet and I fuzzily tried to make a honey and jam sandwich with it... I knew I had to make some changes. (And brush my teeth. Garlic + raspberry does not a happy morning make!)

With some fiddling, I've finally fixed upon our daily bread. It can be tweaked to the needs of the day, can be flavored in any direction... and takes very little time and energy. Best part for my greeny side is the relief from facing a hot oven once the heat of summer begins. The whole batch takes maybe 20 minutes on the stove or electric skillet – this winter I look forward to trying it out on the top of the woodburner.

2 OR 3 Tbsp raw sugar or brown sugar (Heck, honey is great too.) 2 ½ tsp yeast* and ¼ cup warm water (bath tub temp). Mix these three ingredients and set aside to get bubbly.

Heat ½ cup milk (yes... you can use soy or rice. I don't... but I also DO know where its from and can drive to the dairy if I really wanted to. Use what you got, it even works with reconstituted dry milk powder.) with 2 Tbsp softened butter (again, margarine is fine, but I prefer to be able to spell what I'm eating.) How hot? Butter should melt, but don't heat it so high you'll scald yourself if it spills. Once the butter is melted, stir in ½ cup plain yogurt**. By this point, your yeast mix should be bubbling away so add it to the now slightly cooled milk mix.

In a stand mixer*** stir together 1 ½ cups all-purpose flour, 1 ½ cups whole wheat flour, 1 ½ tsp salt, and ½ tsp baking powder. Slowly pour the wet into the dry, switching over to the dough hook as it all comes together. Let the machine knead the dough for 5 minutes while you get things ready for the rising portion of the day. Best place to let bread rise is the microwave. Wet a tea towel and stick it in the box on high for 45 seconds until it steams. Push to the back and close the door. Once the dough is done kneading, it will be sticky – but cohesive. Drizzle either a little melted butter, oil, or spray down the sides of the bowl with pan spray until you can freely spin your dough inside the bowl. Cover with a towel or a sheet of plastic wrap and pop into the microwave to rise. The dough will be ready to cook in as little as an hour or if you forget it and go to bed... should still be fine in the morning.

Up until now, basic bread recipe – right? Here's where things get a little different. Heat a large skillet or griddle DRY. No spray, no oil. You want it around medium heat but not smoking. Pull out your dough and roughly divide it into 16 pieces. (Half it, half again, half those.... you get the idea) Precision doesn't count here. Sprinkle some flour out onto the counter and roll out each dough ball – no perfect circles required, just roll it out however the dough wants to go to piecrust thickness. Pull up the first slice and drop onto the skillet. In about a minute, the dough will be puffing and easy to flip. Flip, cook another minute and then repeat with the next piece.

On my griddle I can cook two pieces at once and usually have time to roll out the next two pieces as the first cook. Takes a few tries, but the swing comes pretty quickly. All in all? About 20 minutes or less from dough to done. Let cool then store in a zip-top bag.

Best parts of this recipe? Makes AMAZING pizza dough (she said quite modestly). For ultra thick crust use the whole recipe in a pizza pan, for a thinner crust use a cookie sheet. I'll post the recipe I made for our dinner Monday night if anyone wants it – a reprisal of the Perky ones Buffalo Chicken Pizza. The recipe is also endlessly adaptable. Want a sweet bread for Sunday brunch? A bit more sugar and 2 tsp of cinnamon in the dough (for extra pizazz toss the finished bread in butter then sugar and cinnamon. Elephant ears without much guilt!) Savory? Mix that 3 Tbsp of roasted garlic into the dough as the original called for. Change up the flours, use flavored yogurts, still in some cheese. Its a pretty bulletproof recipe.

Cheap? Yup. A little less then a buck a loaf (or pizza crust) and makes 16 slices of bread.

Green? That too, thanks to a local bulk food store and its quick stovetop cooking style. Give it a try and see if you can't make those white tubes of packaged goo a thing of the past. Let me know how it works out for you.

*DON'T buy those little 3-pack packages of yeast if you can avoid it. Not only is there a huge amount of packaging for a tiny item... the cost over time is enough to make this nerd swoon. Look for SAF-Instant yeast in a 1 pound package. They usually retail around $3-$5 and kept in the freezer will last more then a year.
**I'm finally jumping and am going to try making my own yogurt this week. If it all works out, that's one more thing I can knock off my grocery list.
***You CAN make this without the mixer... just know it adds another 15 minutes of kneading to get the dough together. I'm a lucky gal who won't be giving up my Kitchen Aide without a fight. Be warned... I'm armed.

At Least In A Mugging....

2008-05-13T12:25:00.000-07:00

They don't expect you to smile. After a week of visitors and visiting, this nerd is feeling a bit like she's been dragged down a few miles of hard road.

Backwards.

In a gunny sack.

With a incontinent puppy.

Who bites.

Now, don't get me wrong. The time to see friends was wonderful, if a bit exhausting - three over for dinner, one all day tennis date, 2 hours each way drive to my parents for the weekend, another 2 hours further south for his family, a late night call and a whirlwind visit immediately following our own return home has me hugging my bed and swearing off leaving the house for a few weeks at least.

Which brings us to the unsettling feeling of being mugged.

Five hours in the car on Saturday, another six or seven on Sunday, a late night work call for the Prime Geek = a metric shit ton of gas. We were staggered over the $3.76 a gallon it took to fill and refill the tank for this weekend, but as I topped off the tank this afternoon a crowd began to swarm the pumps, all hollering in horror that this was the last station to turn its prices. Wondering what they meant I drove up the road to witness it for myself...

$3.99 – 4.19 a gallon. For regular.

I dropped a little over $24.00 to fill up the last quarter in our tank and I'm can't help but feel a little violated. And the truly sad news? No real end in sight... its just gonna get worse from here. Grocery prices are skyrocketing, fuel is going through the roof, and folks are getting a tad squirrelly over an uncertain future.

The Prime Geek and I are luckier then many. While he has a one hour round trip each day to work – he can use the bike on nice days*. My test for my own motorcycle license is fast approaching and once that's done I'll be able to ride the frog around town for most errands. Living in town gives us more options then a lot of people have these days. We're feeling the pinch, but so far we are a world away from the crunch that others are struggling with. Between our steps to gear down, going greener, and the sheer luck that we honestly enjoy figuring out alternatives and making things work we're doing okay.

There is going to be a bit of a change on this site over the next few months. No matter your political stance or view of the “greenies” out there, we're at a crossroads in our country. We all have choices to make, and less room for error in the decisions we follow. We're headed for Chinese Curse territory, and “interesting” definitely is the mildest way to describe the times ahead. There will be more day to day blogging going on from now on, combining the green with the cheap. We'll all get through what's happening, I honestly believe that. Just buckle your seat belts and head towards the nerdiest star on the right.

UPDATE - Three hours later the station has fallen in line with its brethren. $3.97 a gallon and rising.

* And “nice” covers far more time than it used to. Not actively flooding outside is now nice.

Happy To Be A Worm

2008-05-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

Thank heavens for Green Beans! An oath I'm sure my mother dreamed she would hear her picky-eater daughter ever utter – but true nevertheless. One of the wonderful bloggers I read on a weekly, if not daily basis, is Green Bean of Green Bean Dreams. (Check out her link in the sidebar over to the right. This lady is one of a growing number of people I read who, if I'm being honest, frankly would like to grow up to be one day.) After months of eco-challenges ranging from how-low-can-you-go winter freeze offs, buy nada for a month, to the oddly stressful stress-less in March, there is finally a challenge tailor made for this nerd. What is it?

May is Be a Bookworm Month. (nifty picture up in the corner is also courtsey of Green Bean) How cool is that? Just agree to set aside some time and read a real honest to goodness, paper and ink, actual hard copy book! Well, an eco/sustainable book or two is the goal. But still. READ! A book!

I'm a nerd, my place is really nothing more then a large private library these days, how more perfect could a challenge be?

Frankly, I'm thrilled. A way to salve my guilty conscious about the long soaks I take with a book propped on a soapy knee at last. In the attempt to green-up my home, my life, get a garden going, get a career (of sorts) moving – reading has taken a back seat in my life for a bit. Now? It's an honest to goodness item to check off on my ever growing daily to-do lists. (And with a back still giving me fits and a case of the twitchies driving me batty as I try to hobble about my chores, the knowledge that reading really IS a required element of my day gives me at least a small sense of accomplishment.)

So, to start May out with a bang (and to continue in my overachiever attitude) I have two books awaiting me upstairs, propped against the side of slowly filling bathtub. The first is Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver – the second is Simple Prosperity by David Wann.

After this posts, I'm heading upstairs with my laptop left down in the living room (turned off, of course) so I'll have no interruptions in my evening ablutions.

Have a good night, and do yourself a favor – find yourself a good book, someplace soft, and something to curl up around with.

Night.

Its Not ALL Bad

2008-04-29T13:17:00.000-07:00

Last nights post was a tad... well. I freely admit I was feeling rather low. I don't do still at the best of times, and apparently I also suffer from some kind of short term memory issues as I would lay immobile for a while, and then would somehow forget the white hot blinding pain from the last time I tried to move and reach over for a different magazine or to nudge Pandora off my foot – only to have my lapse in thought thoroughly explained to my addled brain as the wave of pain rolled over me. So in my suffering (I have plenty of experience in this type of thing, so allow me to state I would rather break both legs AND be in the midst of a PMS typhoon then do nasty things to my ribs. I know the first sounds worse... but at least you get a flashy set of wheels for a month and the terrified natives proffer chocolate in the hopes of appeasing your momentary demons. Ribs? Anything that makes you weep and shake at the mere thought you might sneeze – Worse. MUCH worse.) I may have given the impression that being a klutz is a truly terrible thing.

Not so my friend. In fact, there are some standout good points that make me happy to claim the slightly bruised and battered crown of klutzdom. Allow me to explain.

1 – When helping friends to move, they will only allow you to carry items like pillows and blankets – and these only to ground level rooms. The rest of the day they will give you “important” jobs, such as keeping the lemonade pitcher (plastic) filled and the cats (declawed) out of the way.

2 – When camping in groups any job involving axes, sharp pieces of wood, fire, tent stakes, rusty buckets, ropes, or decisions regarding the setup of latrines or water stations are allocated quickly – to anyone other then you. A friendly offer of help splitting wood for the nights fire will usually result in a panicked look from the offeree and a renewed vigor on their part to get the job done before you can wander towards them.

3 – Bravery. Sounds like an odd one, I know. But its true. Once you fully embrace your inner klutz, fear over hurting yourself fades into the background. You already KNOW you're not walking away from a task unscathed... but after a few dozen trips to the emergency room you know the worst that can happen. It might hurt, but it won't kill you.* Knowing intimately on a scale of 1-10 what a broken bone feels like means you know the risks and can compensate for them – so go ahead and climb that tree to get down the neighbor's cat. Worse comes worst? A klutz always has a stack of wheelchair accessible projects to work on over the next month.

4 – Rapid healing. Most true klutzes I know develop this. I don't know if we're all mutant freaks and thus are able to speed our healing, or if it is something our bodies develop in self-defense.** Whichever the case, I've never had a broken bone that took longer then a month before I cracked off my own cast or a scar that didn't eventually get reabsorbed back into my body. I bruise like a son of a gun... but they go from ugly to washed out sometimes in just a day.

5 – Medical Knowledge. This one comes under the heading of survival... but after tumbles, knock-downs, slices and breaks - I have learned how to put in my own stitches, slam my shoulder back into its socket, and reset a finger that just really REALLY shouldn't look like that. I'll laugh my butt off while doing it (some people cry, I giggle. The Prime Geek tells me my way keeps things moving and getting done... but is far more disturbing.) but I can put most of myself – and others – back together until someone qualified comes along.

6 – How to fall. A knowledge that has saved my skin a hundred times. Don't fight the graceless moment, don't try to prove you're cool, accept gravity is going to win and roll with it. Ignore people staring, dismiss the laughter, and just go with the zen of the fall. 95% of the damage folks do to themselves is done when they try to overcompensate for their own missteps. I don't mind the bruises - its fighting them that results in breaks.

7 – And finally – Angels and Fate watch over small children, fools, and klutzes. Something in our very makeup seems built to allow us an extra roll of the dice, often creating moments of serendipity in which the planets all aligned and the music of the spheres is allowed to ring.

What do I mean? An example – This morning was rough, very rough on this nerd. I had spent a restless night staring at the ceiling and wondering at what point should I stop being a hardass and call out to my husband that now – NOW was the time to carry my sad carcass to the ER. Nature had been trying to call for hours and I could no longer ignore the need. Gathering myself up to jerkily move – my feet got tangled in the bedsheets and I went down in a heap, slamming my back into the edge of the bed.

After the shock, pain, tears, cursing, and the wave of self-pity rolled back, I took a deep breath to survey the damage I had added to myself. Frankly, I was afraid that I had finally graduated from popped ribs to a broken back. There had been several nasty cracks coming from my back... this wasn't going to be good and my cell phone lay in the corner on the floor – thrown several feet away from me in the fall. With a shudder I tried to rise and...

Danged if I haven't popped the rib back into where its supposed to be.

Still hurts, but can breath now. Still sore, but I'm moving without crying.

Klutziness rules.

*Permanently. At least more then once. I find that oddly comforting.
**My mother also claims in my case it has something to do with the gallon of skim milk a day she used to pour down my brother and I's throats. To this day, I still put away a half gallon or so a day. Many health issues run in my family - osteoporosis tisn't one I worry too much about.

In Which A Nerd Confesses

2008-04-28T21:03:00.001-07:00

Sitting uneasily propped up in bed, trying to type/breath/and groan at the same time, I feel a need to confess something. Just in case a few of you have failed to pick up on it in the last few months.

I, your natural nerd.... am something of a klutz.

I spent my childhood reassuring well meaning social workers that no, in fact my parents didn't beat me - daily bruises notwithstanding. It took me getting distracted in front of one women and opening a door into my face (blacking my eye and giving myself a nosebleed) to make her realize that the only person doing me any damage was myself.

Since reaching my 20's I've been given more cards for women's shelters/ divorce attorneys / and self-defense classes then all of the Lifetime Movie main characters combined.

My husband, the Prime Geek, married me and honestly thought he would be able to imbue me with a little of his own grace and suavity. Sadly, the force is far stronger in this one... and his own graceful star is beginning to look a bit tarnished. (Our wedding night was the first moment he came face to face with this possibility. My mother had bought us black satin sheets as a romantic/silly gift and he ended up slamming himself headfirst into the opposite wall after skittering across them when he attempted a sensual slide.)

I've broken bones that I hadn't realized I had, ripped/torn/and slashed most of the muscles and tendons keeping my bits together, and spent a whole lot of my life wondering if I should put down "bruised" as my skin tone.

I have found the more naturally I eat, the less chemicals I keep around the house, and the more time I spend wandering outside - the faster I heal up... getting me to my next pratfall all the faster. So my trials and tries are a kind of Good News/ Bad News scenarios.

This time? The furry troublemakers attempts to kill me dang well nearly succeeded, with me heading down the stairs head first. The noggin is fine, but the chiropractor is muttering something about "popped" ribs and possible cracks. Me? I'm just muttering "Owe." A lot. A whole lot. Okay... there may well be some profanity squeaking out as well.

The part that has me banging my head against a wall? I have an interview coming up this weekend regarding an option to start doing this whole writing thing as a proper real "grownup" job and I've been a tad stressed out over it. Couldn't write, couldn't sew, didn't know what to do with myself.

This.... is not the distraction I had in mind. Next time I yell out to the universe that I need something to keep my mind occupied, I'm darn well specifying PLEASANT time wasters.

Owe.

One thing this has accomplished is make me all the more certain that when the time comes for the PG and I to build our green dream home - there will be NO RUDDY STAIRS!

Keep Bothering

2008-04-28T08:34:00.001-07:00

A real post will follow in a few hours - the rain that is sitting on the house gives me free rein to putter on the computer without a drop of guilt* - but I found a link through a great blog I read daily http://kaleforsale.blogspot.com/ and wanted to make sure to pass it along to ya'll. Michael Pollen has a rather good take on why we bother trying to be "green" at all when there are so many others around us saying to hades with it all. Why try, why fuss, what's the point? Check it out on the New York Times page http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/20/magazine/20wwln-lede-t.html?pagewanted=1&_r=1 .

Each little step, each little action does add up.

I'm spending most of the afternoon digging around for some info after an interesting and entertaining conversation I had yesterday, while out for lunch with the Prime Geek. A vegetarian served us at the steakhouse.... and a wonderful exchange was born.

Later folks.

*The rain, the 30 degree temperature drop, and a back completly thrown outta wack.

Happy Earthday – Now, Go Away

2008-04-22T05:34:00.000-07:00

Rather abrupt, I'll concede, but to the point as well. I've been wrestling with what I, as an aspiring environmental blogger, should post today.

Shopping lists of “eco-friendly” items to overhaul your life? Not really my style.

Ranting hysterics to force you to join the green wagon? Nah... you folks are reading this, I figure you might have a small idea things need some work.

Resolutions and reminders to overhaul your life? Nope. Everyone has to figure out their line in the sand themselves.

So instead, I'll go a little sideways. (You can't be really shocked at that choice!)

Do yourself, your family, your neighborhood, and the earth a favor today. Turn off the computer, switch off the lights, slip on some comfy shoes, grab a water bottle – reusable please – and go outside. No epic plans to be laid, no oaths sworn to “be better, do more, and this time... I mean it!”

Today, don't think about saving the world. Just go outside and enjoy it. Listen to the birds, enjoy the sunshine (or whatever the planet is tossing your way), maybe putter about for a bit.

Tomorrow there will be plans, lists, ideas. But today? Use Earthday to get back in touch with the world around you.

You need at least one “to-do” point on your list today? Fine... but only one.

Your responsibility today is this. Once you have your shoes on, find – a kite, a frisbee, a fishing pole, SOMETHING – and go make the acquaintance of this place we all call home.

Hard to get people passionate about saving something they only know the tiniest bit about.

Go on. Scoot.

I Have No Recollection Of Those Events, Senator

2008-04-19T21:55:00.000-07:00

The day started out much like any other weekend – a purring cat sat curled contentedly atop the Prime Geek's head dozing in the sunshine, the raucous alarm on his phone waking me with a sudden lurch while leaving him snoring wrapped in his fuzzy blue blanket. Knowing we had to motivate with extreme prejudice this morning, I had set the alarm on its loudest shriek hoping it would cause HIM to be up first for our appointments of the day. Yet again this hope failed, but we did manage at last to straggle out of bed and, like a herd of stampeding tortoises we were off.

First our goal of passports was achieved, then a nice slow drive to a local health food to pick up the weeks fresh fruits and veggies. We stopped to see his father who was taking his weekend to work at the Boy Scout camp nearby – then followed that up with a duteous trip out with his mother for lunch and her weekly ramble through Best Buy to see if any new movies she might desire would be lurking on the shelf.

And there... well. There is where it all went a bit off the rails. I've been trying this month to keep from buying anything that wasn't a major life requirement – having joined the Crunchy Chicken's buy-nothing in April challenge. I'd been doing well... up until this afternoon.

I'd tell you all about it, the madness that overtook my nerdly soul (and the slightly hysterical giggles of the Prime Geek were unsettling for those around us) and the depths to which we have fallen. I could write reams regarding our downfall... but instead, I will leave you tonight with a short and to the point three word precise of what will be the rest of our weekend.

Naked Drunken Wii!

(Hey, we're married and the blinds are closed. Don't judge.)

Tribble Update

2008-04-17T08:18:00.000-07:00

As the Prime Geek and I wandered out of the store late last night, clutching two boxes of razors, a few eye bolts (clothes line project to be address before this upcoming National Hang Your Laundry Outside Day on Saturday*), a giant yard candle, and two bags of candy tightly in our mitts – I realized the goal to not bring home those troublesome tribbles (plastic shopping bags) was becoming something ingrained into our day to day lives. With a last minute dash out to the store, we had waved away bags – large AND small – from a slightly confused cashier. Her “They're free... you sure you don't want one? How about just a little one? You sure?” followed us out the door as we simply divvied up the purchases and carried them out with us. It isn't even just me, the Prime Geek has begun to quip to tellers everywhere “No thanks, save a plastic tree!” and simply stuff purchases into his deep pockets – waving receipts in front of confused door greeters like a talisman to explain he really HAS paid.

Bags – canvas & string, bought & knitted are hanging from doorknobs, stuffed in the back of the Jeep, I even now carry multiples scrunched up in the bottom of my purse** ready to whip out and confuse and confound cashiers and bag packers everywhere. The main reason we were left carrying last night was the PG's precious lad – his jeep – is in for repairs following our little “incident” with the snowplow. I hadn't even considered getting a few to keep in the rental for the week and I had run out the door with the PG too quickly to grab much more than my sandals and my wallet.*** I fixed THAT little snafu this morning.

What? Do I still hear a few holdouts? I know I heard a groan over there in the corner. Bags are a pain to remember? It doesn't make a difference unless everyone is using them so why bother? You just forget?

Ahhh. But your kindly aunty Natural Nerd has a visual to help you all go out and grab your bags. Or at least the ones who have pets or even remotely like animals. Heck, I'm pretty sure with the next three paragraphs I can also get the easily grossed, the highly strung, and the neurotically tidy as well.

Thus far in the annals of this blog, I've posted pictures of three of our four girls. Pandora is up in the corner, Luna and Harlequin had their little love fest last week.... Bunny. Well, getting Bunny's picture is rough. Hard to take one in total darkness, and the ones I snap when she dares the light are too pitiful for words (the nickname of Bunny comes from her fraidy-cat nature and her Bunnicula tendencies. She even has two tiny fangs). Take it as read she's a cutie. While we're not completely insane over our girls, they are a HUGE part of the family. I've always had pets – dogs, cats, hamsters, the odd squirrel, etc. So has the Prime Geek, we always will have animals around us. I'm guessing there are a few animal lovers out there amongst you folks as well.

So picture along with me, you're sitting in your living room watching a new episode of Top Gear while eating a snack with your honey. Off in the distance, just at the edge of hearing... there is a strange “nom, nom, nom, nom,” and the crinkle of plastic. Annoying enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck rise just a tad... but is it worth getting up to investigate? Nah.... until it continues until the next commercial break. Sighing, you push yourself up and decide to see what the hellions you share your home with are up to. As you flick on the kitchen lights you see three startled and now slightly guilty looking cats – all with a side of a plastic bag in their mouths, well chewed and wet. With a yell, you scatter your troublemakers to three of the four winds and examine the bag they had found and dragged out. Scraggly, disgusting, wet... but no obvious pieces missing. All is well, you gingerly pick up the one non-chewed corner and toss the whole mess into the trash. No biggie, right? They have been doing the oral equivalent of popping bubble wrap since they were little and as long as you get it away from them in time, no real worries. The bags are no longer trickling in, and soon they won't be able to dig out anything to chew on. You secure the remaining bags and leave the room. All is well.

WARNING WARNING WARNING DANGER DANGER DANGER DANGER DO NOT READ THE FOLLOWING IF EATING, EASILY NAUSEOUS, EASILY GROSSED OUT, OR CUDDLING A PET OF ANY DESCRIPTION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Until the next morning when you are confronted by a puzzled but still purring fuzzball vainly trying to scratch an itch they can't reach – caused by the 2 feet of dirty, scat encrusted, strip of plastic bag handle hanging forlornly out of their nether region.

Still wanna bring home those plastic bags? Not enough? How about the horrible moment, when walked through it by a kindly vet on the other side of a telephone – you are instructed to grab an end and gently tug to see if it can come loose... but to stop if it looks like you might be going to pull out their intestines as well.

All came out well in the end, although visitors are confused to hear Harlequin referred to as Ripper (short for Ripcord) these days.

Gonna forget THAT little mental image when you bop out of the door without a bag?

Didn't think so.

Grab a bag before you go, and I won't ever make you read something like this again.

*Apparently everything gets a holiday these days.
**The real change is actually carrying a purse. Before, I just grabbed my cell, the keys, and stuck my wallet in my back pocket. Who knew it would be the Green efforts that would make me do something my mother despaired of every getting me to do.
*** Alright. And my yarn. I'm 9 hats into my 12 hat goal by the weekend.

Irritation Continuation

2008-04-15T10:52:00.000-07:00

I'm semi-covered in dirt so my posting today will be brief (although tomorrow should be far more fun - I have thriving plant life! Pictures later.) but as I received a few private emails as well as a few comments regarding yesterdays temper tantrum I thought I should maybe address the concerns.

Nope, not pulling it down, don't care if it comes to the person in questions attention. If I had an issue about that, well. I would have simply written the blog, gotten over my seething, and simply erased it like all the previous ones.

Yup. Anyone with a modicum of intelligence who reads more then one or two "green" blogs will figure out the writer rather quickly - heck... my initial irritation ended with a comment posted on her blog regarding a decision to not actually research more then a moment before she posted. I'm not trying to start a war - I like to think I'm smarter then that. I'm also not so egotistical that I believe she's "picking on me" by her casual swipe of a premise she had first ridiculed. Do I think I really show up on the radar of a English citizen as someone to persecute? Nope. I think what drew my ire more at the time, was the common sense thought "If she's done it to me... I can't be the only one."

There is a sentiment that folks with a common goal should never publicly disagree, else we damage the group as a whole. To me that is nothing but hogwash. If I think someone, something, some idea is wrong or off... I'll call the person on it. Feel free to do the same thing to me, and who knows. Back it up with real information - not foot stamping "But its not NICE!" whines please - and I'm a bright enough lass to sometimes even look at a situation and say "Whoa. I'm wrong. Interesting concept. Nifty, I got a new view."* But to instead fall back on "not a real journalist" and sticking their fingers in their ears... or the one that REALLY bugged me - patronizing comments in my own work explaining I don't have the vast education you do to understand I'm being led by the nose....

Well. I tend a tad bit tetchy. Not enough to drag out the chainmail top and accept the standing invitation from Wodin to pick up a new side career... but tetchy none the less.

So thanks for the concern, I'm not too worried about fallout. If something DOES come about - shrug - I'll handle it. I have this little rule about material I write. Some of it might make me blush later, some things I may groan before admitting its mine... but I've never - never - written anything I won't stand next to with a certain degree of "Yes, its mine. What?"

Why haven't I pushed it onto her own site? I won't start a war of words, its her site, she can say whatever she dang well pleases.

Off to plant more spinach.

* Yup, I've even said just that sentance alloud in the middle of an argument. Nothing quite takes the wind out of the sails of an indignant argument as a fast capitulation and agreement. Mean... but fun!

Predictable Irritation

2008-04-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

Only a rant today folks, as I have some Mile High Veggie Pie* cooking in the oven, a ton of chicken to get cooked for the week**, and a staggering pile of sewing to get finished else I run the risk of having to walk around far closer to starkers then I really prefer in the incoming spring and summer months. The mature part of myself is telling me to let the following go... that is doesn't really matter what another blogger is doing.

However, the childish and petulant side hasn't had its noontime nap and is threatening to drop applesauce into my keyboard if it doesn't get a chance to vent. I've decided to relent... then go
about trying to be productive the rest of the day.

I really try to check the facts of anything I post about here on my site. While the only thing I consider myself a professional is in my ability as a smart-ass, I'm aware the web is an insidious creature and you never know when some 8th grader is going to site your page as the basis for their “CRAP! My reports due tomorrow... what was it on again?” project. Thus – I double check. Heck, I'll even cop to the simple fact that as a bona fide nerd I even enjoy researching a topic I'm interested in. This is how nerdlings act. It is in fact what makes us nerds. So when a writer of another site – a much LARGER site, who is developing quite the following first criticizes my views, questions my intelligence and possible inability to understand I am being led astray, THEN lifts my statements and posts them as her own... well. I get a tad tetchy. However... other then a mild mini-tantrum over on a myspace page*** I decided to just let it go. She lives over the Atlantic, I'm never going to have to deal with her face to face... - deep cleansing breath in, sound of rippling brook keyed into the background, and breath out – I'm fine.

Mostly. Honestly, I'm trying to be the better person here. I kept my shriek of “WHAT!” to a moment when I could only be heard by the cats, kept outside voice based verbal kvetching to a minimum – IE my mother (also a writer) and my husband, and while I may have written a few dozen letters to her critiquing everything from her writing style to her possible family genealogy – they were never sent and I didn't so much as write a comment on her blog. Vented – then erased. Shoot, I even wiped that part of my hard drive when I got it out of my system. So far, I'm succeeding at being the bigger person.

Thus far. But now? Well, my trigger finger is itching, and I am reallllllyyyy trying to keep myself from finally sending a zinger or two to her site. She has developed a lovely tendency to write out little “eco-facts” into her blogs regarding the U.S. Charming, except she doesn't bother to check to see if they ARE facts, and when quietly informed she is wrong, decides to fall back on “I'm English, how could I be expected to know these thing about a country I've never been to?” Never admits she's wrong, mind you. Doesn't pull the facts.

When challenged, she claims to only write a tiny blog with a few readers, although in the next sentence she reveals she is now listed as one of the 50 most powerful bloggers. She says she isn't a journalist and shouldn't be expected to follow the same criteria.

Sorry. But if what you write is read by thousands everyday – you ARE a journalist. You do have responsibilities. Either accept that fact, or stop writing.

Urrrgh.

* While its a bit grudgingly, we are beginning to take a few small steps toward a slightly less meat based diet. A veggie pie made from cleaning out the fridge and some leftover Panera bread will be this week's lunch for the Geek and I.
**Less meat based yes, veggie no. So a few dozen chicken breasts are getting cooked as well and then shredded for quick meal options. Spring is here and I'm getting too dirty in the garden for long meal preps.
*** Yes. I have a myspace page. No drunken photo's (one as a giant squirrel, but that was for a job), no admissions of illegal use of substances, no sexy shots. Just a way to keep in touch with outta state friends. We have covered I'm a nerd... right?

One Small Step

2008-04-11T11:51:00.000-07:00

Over the months I have been writing this blog, I think a few things about myself have probably become rather clear to all of you. I'm a person proud of my nerdy tendencies, I have a solid marriage with an equally twisted partner, and there are no doubt a few of you with solid ideas of the size of my Xena collection – just DVD's, thank you. I lost the action figures in the last move. In addition, I'm a big believer in the one small step philosophy of life. (My little meltdown the other day even alluded to my tendency and tenacity in viewing all things possible as long as you can keep moving.)

This code of conduct is even what started me on the path to writing this blog. I wanted to try and keep moving, making small steps each day towards a “greener” life. I know perfectly well that my grabbing a water bottle on my way out the door instead of buying a soda while out and about won't miraculously solve the trash problems in the country. In the same vein, my carrying canvas bags to the grocery won't cause an overnight reversal of the millions of plastic bags littering the sides of roads. One veggie meal a week won't cure animal abuses OR fix the hole in the ozone. I can't change everything... I can only make little changes in myself, and maybe convince (or nag, hey whichever works!) a few others to give it a shot as well. We didn't get to this place in the world overnight, we won't solve it that way either. So on I plod, hopefully making my trials, trails, and tribulations at least a tad amusing for you folks out there.

Somehow, in the stress of dealing with family hardships these last few months... I got a tad bit lost. I've spent a LOT of time hesitating with one foot held in the air completely at sea at where to set it down again. I think I started, well, thinking a bit too much and it threw a spanner in the works for awhile. Time to stop over analyzing and just start doing again. One foot in front of the other, I'll figure out the direction when I get there.

To that end? I can't do anything to help a little girl hours away fighting for her life. Can't really do much for her parents either. Right now, what has to happen there is happening without me... and while it sucks, its just the way it is. But, I can do one small step for other little kids. I've got a large stash of yarn and time on my hands... so time to take a small step. The picture below are the 2 ¾ preemie hats I've gotten finished for a Save the Children Drive today, and by the end of the next week I aim to have filled those two pegboards with at least a dozen. Can I save Gracie? No... and I can't save every child in need on the planet. But I can help a dozen get at least a bit better of a chance then they might have had without me. It isn't much, it's just one small step.

One nerd who's moving forward again.

Have a good night guys.

If anyone out there would like to contribute hats to the Save the Children organization, check out their VERY well put together site at www.savethechildren.org.uk . They even have a great downloaded able tutorial for newbie knitters. Wanna take one small step with me today?

Anybody Seen the Aleve?

2008-04-10T10:34:00.000-07:00

Doesn't look like much, now does it? Hard to tell from a not-very good digital photo, but those two strips of dug up mud running alongside our front walk are my opening salvos in my attempt to slowly turn our lawn into a garden. Four hours of rather backstraining digging just to get it to that point – the next step of using the 'rents tiller will occur on the next nice day we have. My sore back and the blisters on the palms of my hands tell me that while the commercials all claim the garden claw is all you need, that's a pile of horse sh... Um. Compost.

Bit by bit, I'm going to rip out the front lawn and turn it into an edible oasis. The strips are getting planted with a mix of pansies (pretty, but more for their tastiness in tossed salads) and salad greens. I'm planting a small kitchen garden in the back, but with the huge oak tree taking up a third of our raised backyard there isn't a whole lot of sunshine to go around. Baskets will fill sunny spots on the porches, a large section of the Prime Geek's parents yard will be tilled in few weeks (I get a huge 20x90 swath to plant corn, squash, melons, and other sun lovers and get some of the bounty in exchange for losing a part of their yard they never even walk to. Sounds like a fair trade to me!), and there are even plans for window boxes for more herbs. We'll make the most of the postage stamp sized plot of land we have, just wait and see!

Now, for the question portion of this post. Any suggestions of what salad greens to mix in with the edible flowers? I'm trying to slowly introduce the food production side of yard “art” in an effort to stave off neighborhood complaints. While I don't mind being “those weird folks” on the block – the 7 foot tall Moai* statue the Prime Geek and I are planning to build and install in the center of the front lawn should prove that pretty clearly – I also don't want our dinner plans to be obviously waving at passer byers inviting them to snack.** I'm looking at greens that could, if you squint, be labeled as ornamental plants – pretty patches of green and purples, with varying heights and shapes.

Any suggestions? I know spinach (flat & curly) are going to be tossed in, mainly for the simple fact I could plant my whole lawn with the stuff and it wouldn't catch up to our recent intake! But I could use any hints or ideas you clever folk can come up with. Full sun worshiping plants are great (although I can tuck a few shade-dwellers in under our maple tree – make for quick snacks when I stretch out in a gardening break) and as we're in one of the few places in the country NOT suffering from drought, they don't have to be super drought tolerant. Frankly, anything will be easier on the environment than the water-sucking lawn I'm ripping out. (The idea of never having to start up the black cloud spewing monster of a lawn mower is also a pretty intense motivator.)

I don't care that the weather man is saying possible snow this weekend... Spring has finally SPRUNG!***

*The big glaring stone faces Easter island is famous for.
** While I don't care if a few curious kids nibble around the edges, the idea of folks too lazy to plant their own garden ripping things up by the root makes me nervous. Call me paranoid... but it IS a concern.
***Not quite the truth, I do care. The idea of any more snow makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry, frankly, but I'm trying to be a grownup and put a brave face on it. A petulant grownup, but a grownup nevertheless.

To Change The Mood

2008-04-09T16:19:00.000-07:00

So as to not leave everyone else as bad tempered as I seem to be tonight, allow me to present this little slice into the Prime Geek and I's homelife.

On one hand, this could be titled "Wub, Twooo Wub*". But on the other... it's not the lesbianism I mind, really... its the incest that bothers me.
Trouble #2 & #3 sharing a moment of sisterly love.

Night folks. I'm going for a walk to clear my head.

*For the two people in the back looking confused, this is in reference to one of the best movies** of all time - The Princess Bride. Rent it at once if you have never seen it. Then buy it.

**Sadly however, one of the worst BOOKS of all time as well. Not every day the movie is world's better then the book, but in this case if you have never read it... don't. Just, don't.

Life Goes

2008-04-09T12:32:00.000-07:00

Normal blog later tonight, but as I just got an update that kinda sideswiped me I'll just post this now.

In the last few hours Gracie's condition has taken a serious nosedive. At last report she's crashed 3x and completely flat lined at least once. Her ventricle is "locking up" whatever that means and the doctors can't figure it out. We've been hearing that a lot lately. She's had chemical burns from the medical tape to deal with - caused by an allergic reaction the doctor's don't understand. Blood infections (E. coli to be precise) from mysterious sources that have her doctors baffled. Born with a half a heart missing without any doctor noticing for the 10 months her momma carried her. Her heart has stopped, her lungs filled, and the doctors continue to be puzzled.

If I had known medical school was such a cake walk I woulda just gone that route instead of trying for an English degree. Apparently all you have to do is shake your head and tell people its a mystery and its just in God's hands and you get the fancy degree and a stethoscope to hang around your neck.

I know I'm being unreasonable, but at the moment I don't really care. I'm angry - pissed beyond measure over the pain this tiny little body has suffered, the anguish my cousin is feeling, and the absolutely crushing sense of helplessness as I, along with the rest of the family, stand around not being able to do a single damn thing about this. I don't do helpless well. My whole life has been based around taking the next step. Making the next move. Keep walking and you'll get through, nothing is too big to deal with if you just keep moving.

Just kinda hard to keep moving when the universe keeps dropping mountains on you.

Pray. Don't care to who, don't care how. Just pray.

As for me? I'm gonna sit really really still and try to not think the prayer that's swirling around in my head about how far can this be dragged before its too much to pile on an innocent little girl.

And.... We're Back.

2008-04-08T08:51:00.000-07:00

Well. More or less. I'm holding onto the no doubt soon to be blasted hope that spring has finally well and truly sprung (I'm thoroughly ignoring the news which calls for snow showers on Saturday, childish but I do think it would make me weep to contemplate it.) as I'm staring outside a window at bright sunshine, actual blooming flowers, and the neighbors temperature wheel proudly proclaiming its 60' and well on its way to hitting the projected 70 the weather channel promised! I'd be planning on planting the seedlings that are beginning to devour the card table they are stacked on... if it wasn't for that nagging feeling about snow on Saturday. Perhaps the weekend after I can finally begin to really get into the garden.

It has been a busy week or so here at the nest. Good news all for the most part. Baby Grace has finally decided she likes it here and seems to be jolly well determined to stay at last. She's still in “critically stable” condition, but has been weaned off the ventilator as well as taken off her blood pressure medication. Still fragile, but fighting. Now... if I could only get her mother to stop putting those horrid ribbon rubber bands around her soft little head, it would all be roses. (Seriously. It won't be the scars that split her stem to to stern that will bother her... I just KNOW I'm gonna get an angry call from a livid teenager one day wanting to know why no one stepped in and got that thing off her head! To that future kid.. I'm trying, I swear I am.)

The hand is finally mending as well, which is all to the good as forcing this nerdling to sit without her knitting, her sewing, as well as the inability to type OR write makes for one seriously neurotic nerd. Someone suggested I finish up Meditation March and ease my fidgets that way.

Riiight.

I will confess I learned a few things thanks to Chile's challenge. Not as much as I may have hoped... but I think I will walk away in the long run with more then I realized. I do need to start finding time to quiet myself, both physically and emotionally. I can't run off of an empty tank forever, so its better to start figuring out how to fill it now... then find myself stranded in the desert with a crisis on my hands. I don't think I'm going to reach that point by chanting, becoming a yogi, or learning to transcend (kinda like this reality anyway)... but there are other ways to reach a quiet spot in my own head. Time to work on those.

In the meantime, things are gearing up to a high frenzy here. More on that tomorrow. At the moment this nerd is heading for her third long soak of a so-far short day.

Why? Simple enough. Sunday was gorgeous. Birds singing, bright warm sunshine. And a hand that finally – just that day – got cleared to go back to work. So, of course, being the well reasoned nerd I am, I spent the day moving about a ton of dirt from one part of my lawn to another in readiness of the gardening season. Moderation? What's that? I have well trenched lines in my front yard now, all ready for my pansies to go in (pretty... but planted more for the tastiness when added to salads).

But now, my back would like a few words with me on subjects ranging from misuse and inappropriate movements.

See you tomorrow.

Saturday

2008-03-29T20:10:00.000-07:00

Good Side?

Lovely day, bright and sunny. A nice day out with the hubby as we took a leisurely ride in the sunshine. After a few months of wondering, we located a new meat market that sells locally raised (theirs) and dressed (on-site) beef – pork – and chicken. This means, once the freezer is cleared out we'll be switching over to their store for our protein purchases. We also found five more farmers markets/ U-pick farms which will be opening in the upcoming months. Toss in a trip to the fabric store for material for a few new dresses for the cruise in June... a pretty darn good time.

Not so good?

Breaking our fast-food embargo... only to be rear-ended by a snowplow driver who tried to claim our fault (changed his tune when the police got there, but still). Jeep is still drivable – rear passenger light is smashed to hell and back, as well as the panel needing replaced... but thankfully the driver's plowing company will be paying for everything. Irritating... but it could be worse.

Crappy?

Getting distracted while waiting for the police to arrive, at just the wrong moment. How wrong? Ever had a car door click shut ON your finger? Its not the actual slam that hurts... its the moment you know that no matter how much you want to, you daren't pull or things are gonna get much worse and the realization you now have to open the door and release all that pent up blood.

Not so fun?

Waiting two hours on an ER gurney to see if you managed to break your own finger.

A bit better?

Not.* And darvocet. Mustn't forget the darvocet.

Irritating?

Can't knit for three days, can barely type, and a certain fuzziness in the brain pan from the above mentioned darvocet.

Not so bad?

Also... can't wash dishes, clean litter boxes, or do the trash for three days.

Just... one of those days.

*Just a mashup, a vivid Technicolor bruise, a partially ripped tendon on the last joint and some wrenched and strained muscles in the rest of the arm.

Interludes

2008-03-26T10:00:00.000-07:00

Easter stories to continue in the afternoon, but for now a few tips for the crafters in the crowd. (Yes, making it your own darn self is a “green” topic!)

When attempting a new project, one combining - materials never work with, patterns never tackled, skills never used, and insanely overly optimistic deadlines (Monday) two things to help you through the madness.

Take a moment and acquire : Tequila and Anti-Suicide Lines

The tequila ((Blue preferably, the smoother it is, the easier to gulp in despair when things inevitably go pear-shaped) is for the moment when, 18 repeats into a 81 repeat monstrosity of a shawl you drop 2 key stitches that cause the whole shebang to unravel at an unholy speed. Also in this moment a husband who, upon hearing a strange whimpering sound coming from the corner looks over and after ascertaining there is no hope for a stay of the execution, removes the cursed pile of string from your hands and sends you upstairs while his are the hands that strike the final blow and winds in all back into a neat ball for the next attempt.

The Anti-Suicide Line (called in some manuals “life line” and how I wish I had known of them LAST week) comes into play after sufficient medicinal doses of tequila have been applied to the keening knitter. When a vague sense of resigned calm is restored, these lines – created in this case out of over a yard of neon yellow embroidery floss – are sewn into the shawl every five repeats. They will essentially lock down the pattern and no matter what other ills befall the now numbed knitter, no more then 5 repeats can be lost – barring brushes with fire or peeing cats.

Class dismissed.

Big 100, Time To Get Back In Step

2008-03-25T11:19:00.000-07:00

As an attempt to get back on the writing pony, as well as inject a tad more upbeat tempo to what has in recent weeks been a rather depressing blog – I have decided to let you all in on something a bit odd about your nerd.

Easter, for me... is cursed. Now, I don't mean the religious meanings of Easter Sunday – I'll wax heretical about many thing, but I draw the line at attempting humorous jabs at crucifixion and resurrection. No, instead I mean the day itself. Has been for year, no matter what I try to have happen on the day, I am doomed to spend the majority of it staring at the sky and KNOWING that somewhere there is a tribe of cherubim above me filming my actions for the heavenly chorus's version of “America's Funniest Home Video's”.

I had known in the back of my head there was something surreal about how I spent the day since childhood, but a few years ago it was verified that I would never spend the day in a “normal” manner. Allow me to spell that particular day out for you -

- Due to lack of funding for overpriced gas, and a car that was developing a disturbing tendency to shudder at the thought of moving, I had decided to stay home that year. No trip to the parents, the Prime Geek had to work, and his folks were out of town. So, my Easter plans involved laundry, household chores, and a bit of tv. A nice quiet day alone in my tiny apartment was all I desired.

Instead? Rednecks, Get Ready To RUMBLE.

Picture if you will, our intrepid heroine minding her own business, sprawled comfortably on her couch with a box of wheat thins and a can of diet coke, idly flicking through the channels in a search for something worth watching. A screech of tires and a shout distracts her from the episode of Charmed she had finally elected as her noontime must see tv. (hey, we all celebrate the holidays in our own special way!). Quickly following the tire spinout are shouts, curses, and what could be the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Concerned, she peeks out of her curtain window to see 9 redne.... I mean 9 individuals slugging it out on her lawn.

She gives them a few moments to work through their discontent – but when the fight seems instead to be picking up force and brutality, she sighs and resignedly picks up the phone to call the local friendly police department. Once put through to the officer she is asked to give descriptions of the crowd. Wifebeaters, Marlboro T-Shirts, and MuMus seem to be the order of the day. Mullets and shaved heads were also apparently back in season that year. The officer thanked her for performing her civic duty and as he hangs up is heard to yell "Another Redneck Reunion Wrassle, call the boys.”

Deciding to buck the trend of sitting out on her porch to observe the fight (and incidentally, run the risk of become a possible innocent bystander) she pops herself a bag of popcorn and opens the window to watch the fun unfold. Hmm, what were the highlights of this wonderful event?

Could it be the one-legged man on crutches using them as bats? Swinging at his opponents and hopping after them as they try to avoid his less then lightening quick maneuvers?

Or rather the moment when the 350lb gorilla in curlers and a lime green mumu yanked said crutches out of his grasp, forced him to the ground, and began to beat him with his own crutches?

Was it the moment when one women screeched and lunged at her victim, forcing her foe to the hood of her car and then sitting on his chest triumphantly?

Perhaps it was after the police arrived, and a nearby neighbor with a wonderfully twisted sense of humor and timing began to blare out of his front window the theme song to Cops. The lines BAD BOYS, BAD BOYS coming at just the moment the officer was attempting to handcuff one man causing said officer to begin to laugh so hard he fell to the ground on top of his prisoner.

No, to my mind it had to be the moment when the bandy legged man in the Motley Crew T-Shirt ran to his car, retrieved the remains of the family spiral cut ham and chucked it at the police officers while yelling "You let go of my momma you pig!"

He was arrested on the spot ...once the officers were able to stand without swaying. -

I knew in a crystalline moment of clarity that I would never have a Norman Rockwell Easter. No matter where I live, or where I may roam... my Easters will not be a Protestant picture of piety, complete with spring-time dresses and chocolate bunnies.

To prove my record, this last Easter found me once again dialing a familiar number while attempting to both hold back laughter... and confusion. But we'll leave that until tomorrow. I have some tomatoes to stake.

Sorry About This

2008-03-20T11:06:00.000-07:00

Seems like this blog is dissolving into not much more then an infant update station. Sorry about that.

There are many things going on right now - classes I'm taking, new changes to the nest, even a garden that is finally beginning to grow.

I begin to think on plans for the day, the week, the month... and all it takes is a phone ringing to drop my stomach to the floor and derail all thoughts.

She had another stroke last night, 20 minutes without her heart beating or blood flowing. It would also appear that she is only getting blood to her brain every third beat... so it isn't looking good. Its looked worse, and I'm holding on to that as is the rest of the family.

Sunday, for good or ill, I'm putting this down. I'll let everyone know after that if she passes... but as I'm 17 hours away and unable to do anything of any help, I have to kinda walk away from this all soon. My folks are headed northward to spend Easter with my brother's family, so I told her to let me handle the phones for the next few days. But when she gets back, I have to start living my life normally again. I'm not helping anyone stuck standing in a corner bleeding.

And Again

2008-03-19T18:51:00.001-07:00

Humph. Apparently migraines make me chatty, info to ponder for another day. Might make writing deadlines easier to reach. More painful, but easier.

One piece of good news to cap off a crappy day (although the stitch and bitch was worth the trek out into the sleet and snow).

Grace is continuing to hand on, and at the very least the tests have come back with the hopeful news that although she seems determined to see how many times she can scare us there is, at this time, no brain damage thus far.

This kid had better turn out to be a flipping Rhodes Scholar after all of this.

This is one nerd bound for bed.

Update on Grace

2008-03-19T15:23:00.000-07:00

Little Grace was going to be moved into the step-down program at Duke this afternoon, following a checkup that had her in “amazingly well, considering” shape.

She crashed again this afternoon and the doctors were unable to get her heart beating on its own, so she is back on the heart/lung machine.

My mom is heading northward tomorrow to spend Easter with my brother's family and to get some quality grand-baby time in. I've told her to put this aside as much as she can, and I'll take on the phone vigil for the weekend.

Blogging, emailing, phoning, and basic human thought outside of this... will be spotty for the next few days. Sorry about this.

When all is said and done and Grace makes it to her 21st birthday, the kid is going to owe a lot of people a LOT of drinks. I'm putting in my order for Tequila Sunrises now.

Owie

2008-03-19T11:35:00.001-07:00

I hate migraines.

Really really hate migraines.

'Specially the ones that have you tasting blood and smelling ozone.

This is one nerd signing out until my brain stops trying to squidge out my left ear. (Its frankly trying to take territory that clearly belongs to my babel fish.)

Owe

March Madness....

2008-03-16T11:03:00.000-07:00

That's what it had to be. An extreme case of March Madness. What else could explain how I now own, well.

This.

It will weave fabric up to 38 inches wide and however long I want to thread it. Hand made, perfect condition. When in use it's 4 1/2 feet tall, 4 1/2 feet wide, and 5 feet deep. The gentleman who made it for his wife ( a weaver for years ) didn't want it to dominate the house... so its collapsible! When I'm not using it, the whole shebang folds up to only 2 1/2 feet deep.

How much did I shell out?

$500. That's it. He even through in a brand new yarn swift. I may curl up in a ball and giggle with delight. Don't mind me. At the last moment, my folks decided that as they had been the ones to tell the Prime Geek and myself about it, and as they would be out of town with my brother and his family for Easter... they paid the PG back the $500 and said Happy Easter.

WOOT!

Now, I just gotta figure out how to use the dang thing.....

Nearing Normality

2008-03-14T18:25:00.000-07:00

I repeat – we are nearing normality.*

Well, as close as this nest ever ventures to the realms of normality. For the first day in a week I did not - obsessively clean the bathroom, wander aimlessly from room to room, or sit staring at the phone waiting for it to ring. Instead, I slept until almost 10:30 (sorry hon) and poked around on the internet.

I also received several pieces of items over the course of the day... some good news, an amazing gift, and a possibly journey into a new surreal sideline.

The good news regarding little Grace continues. Good and slightly unnerving really. My mother called this afternoon to let me know that she is gaining in strength and things are really looking well. Her mother has begun to heal (thank heavens, I thought we were gonna have to dig out the elephant gun and tranq her nervy butt.) as well and will be settling into the Ronald McDonald house along with her husband and their two year old son. My mom's voice took on a slightly manic note as she continues with the news, “Grace is getting SO much better, they believe they will be able to finally sew her back together perhaps as early as tomorrow.”

If you ever wonder what dead air sounds like... have that little bon mot dropped into a conversation. While I understand intellectually they can't just go cutting and sewing up an infant repeatedly, and that the factory installed human zipper is a long way from production lines... its is still a bit disconcerting to hear that my cousin's child has, effectively, had her internal bits swinging in the breeze. I can deal with a certain amount of blood and gore – but that tidbit of info had me swinging between nervous laughter and a real need to put my head between my knees.

“You mean...”

“Yes. Don't ask. I still have to repeat it to another 20 people on the phone tree and if I have to think about it I'll scream” came my mother's fast reply. (Mom's blood and guts tolerance is a lot lower then mine.)

Right. Okay then. But the good news continues and I finally feel safe enough to mail a small peach sweater this weekend.

The gift came right before the good news regarding Grace. On a day where I had hit a real low point, when I was having a hard time seeing much brightness in the world... a box hit my doorstep. I had recently began an online friendship with a women I had met on the knitting supersite Ravelry. We'd had some rather wide and far ranging conversations, finding some rather startling similarities between two people almost a country apart. She had offered to mail me a drop spindle to try my hand at spinning.

What I got was not just a drop spindle. This amazing woman had generously and sweetly crammed that cardboard box with spindles, instructions, samples of a near dozen fibers**, even some of her favorite tea. Simply packed with little more then a note hoping I liked it. Now, I'm not much for “things”, honest. But to have someone who I really hope I'm building a lasting friendship do something so kind... well. Tears of happiness took over the river of misery I had been floating in. I have to send her my thanks still; I'm trying to think how to best express how much that box meant to me. Thankfully, she takes a break from the web on the weekends... so I can take a tiny bit of time to plan out a box of my own. I don't have many close female friends, and the ones I have I treasure. Looks like I got another jewel in the box.

And for the last. The surreal sideline. Now most who know me, know I sew/knit/garden/craft/etc. I've have even begun to talk to a few about the hope of finding a way to pull all my distractions into one cohesive unit and to tie my greening leanings into this as well.

What's more Naturally Nerdy then making the cloth you sew?

(Running now before I have to explain. Tomorrow night will be the deciding factor one way or the other.)

*Anything you still can't handle is therefore your own fault. Heavens, but I miss Douglas Adams.

** I had no idea what the fuss about alpacas was about. Now, I have no idea why more people are not caught riding them naked!

Good News At Last

2008-03-13T20:54:00.000-07:00

After almost of week of one piece of bad news after another regarding little Gracie Jean, there is finally a glimmer of dawn in the distance.

After several false starts and reschedules today, this afternoon they finally operated.

A doctor came out to the family hours after the noon start and delivered the following news:

This was the most drastic and elaborate surgery the team had ever done on someone so young. (apparently trying to patch something is harder then a “simple” replacement.)

She almost immediately began to pink up.

Her heart is now beating on its own.

Her fight is by no means over, she has mountains yet to climb (to add to her difficulties it was discovered she had somehow contracted Ecoli in her bloodstream before the surgery) but for the first time since her birth...

They are talking about the path of surgeries that will be needed over the next 3+ years. Before tonight, 3+ DAYS were longer then anyone dared to plan.

Thank you all so much for your thoughts and prayers... please continue to keep her and our family in mind. No one will ever be able to convince me that prayer, no matter the direction, doesn't perform miracles.

Here's to hoping life will begin to settle into some semblance of normality over the next few days.

I am beginning to believe there will be a time when I can explain to an exacerbated teenager exactly WHY she has to deal with dozens of family members hovering.

Barring any drastic changes, I am going to go back to normal blogging in the morning, but I will keep you all posted.

Thank you from the depths of my and my families heart.

Postponed

2008-03-12T12:54:00.000-07:00

The surgery has been postponed.

Her heart stopped three times in the night and the general view is she is too weak for the surgery. There also seems to be the feeling that to put her little body through a lengthy operation is needless suffering.

There isn't much about this situation that doesn't seem to be needless suffering.

I'm off to sit in a corner and knit. Extreme concentration makes other things easier to block out. Hey.. that counts as mediation. Right?

Another Update

2008-03-11T15:35:00.000-07:00

They are moving the surgery to tomorrow intead of Friday. The thinking is she isn't going to get any stronger so as the team has flown in, better do it now.

Slowly finding my feet, its just the sitting around waiting for a phone call has me feeling pretty useless.

One Step Forward

2008-03-10T12:45:00.000-07:00

Two steps back.

Another update this afternoon.

Some tests came back from little Gracie Jean. It would appear the issue is more severe then previously thought... and we all had been thinking that was severe. Not only is she missing half of her heart, but the remaining half has some pretty bad deformities on its own.

To add to the stress, her mother has begun to bleed... far more heavily then is healthy. The one thing she needs to do more then anything else is to stay in bed and lay still and rest. The one thing she just can't do. For understandable reasons, she refuses to leave the ICNU.

I fear this may be a situation that as one fades... so does the other. Amanda won't leave her daughter, and she isn't yet at a point where she could be forced for her own good.

Just... pray. I honestly don't know for what, my mind keeps pingponging from miraculous healing... to a gentle release.

Ever had one of those weeks where there is nothing you can do, no way to really help, no actions to take... you just stand swaying in the living room trying to figure out where to place your feet.

Update

2008-03-10T08:34:00.000-07:00

Thank You.

As I got an update last night from my mother, I decided to let all of you who left such kind messages know what is going on with the little one.

As of right now, several machines at Duke University are breathing and pumping her blood... but she is still alive, which is more then I thought I would get to write today. The doctors seem to be 50/50 split on her diagnosis with the options being : a severe congenital heart defect OR something called Turner's syndrome. (I see a lot of internet research going on in my family future.) Either way, right now the plan is to wait until Friday to get her a bit stronger, then to perform the first of what will be dozens of surgeries.

This first surgery has a good survival rate, about 95%, but the three weeks after are rough ones. Infections as well as a myriad of other disasters will have to be constantly guarded against.
But... this little girl comes from a very long line of determined and bull-headed women, here's hoping she takes after her momma and the rest of her family.

I'll be spending a good part of the rest of the day searching for restaurants near Duke U that sell online gift certificates. I have a feeling hospital food is gonna get old real quick for her momma and daddy. Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers... please keep this little fighter in mind over the coming weeks.

Sheesh. I never thought I would PRAY for a kid to be as much as a terror as her momma and I were. Please let her gramma's curse of “May you have one just like you!” hold strong over this little girl.

The nest is still pretty thickly buried, although the Prime Geek and I did manage to get the Jeep dug out yesterday. A total of about 18 inches had us staying close to the home fires this weekend. But spring is coming and life keeps moving. How do I know?

Just.... Pray.

2008-03-08T13:36:00.000-08:00

Ever just had one of those weeks you can't catch a break, your breath, or a chance to recover?

I don't know what you all believe in, or really care to who you postmark your prayers. But whoever it may be... toss a thought towards my family sometime today.

Last Sunday found the eldest member of our family going on at last... and now the youngest member looks like she may be joining her.

My cousin gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last night, seemingly healthy and happy. Today? That little bundle is being flown to Duke's hospital with what appears to be a sizable hole in her heart. It doesn't look at all good.

As the snow falls deeper around the Prime Geek and I's nest... I wish there was something, anything I could do beyond sit and wait. So... please. Say a prayer, light a candle, or just wish really really hard. 'Cause she only just got here... and we're not ready to start missing her already.

Plans Change

2008-03-07T17:29:00.000-08:00

The funeral done... the plan was to post about the gardening plans already taking tenuous shape on the card table in my office.

However, plans not being something I am routinely capable of keeping to a strict timetable, I find myself contemplating a bit of a short term detour. What led to this?

Not much... unless you call the 8+ inches of chilly white stuff piling up around my door frame a significant event. It's not like its a blizzard or anythi....

Crap. Would you look at that? The little man on the tv has updated us to a blizzard. Huh.

It would seem that Ohio is bound and determined to stick to its unofficial state motto “If you don't like the weather, wait five minutes.” and has decided to turn its back on all the calendars shouting spring is nigh... and bury us in the white stuff instead. Why I live in a state thats weather system needs a good aerosol delivered dose of Prozac each day often confuses this nerd.*

The first warning blast issued on the radio found me sliding into my usual bad weather routine. A brief hour later and the nest was warm, snug, and secured against any weather a pissy momma nature might throw at us. A hot cup of cocoa steaming on the table next to me, slippers thawing feet made frigid during my treks to the woodpile, I began to relax and snoop around on the web – happy the Geek would be home soon, and grateful we have a 4-wheel drive vehicle. The crackle of the wood fire and the soft snorting purrs of warm and happy cats the only sound to compete with the gentle pattering of snow upon the window sills. Peace and quiet... ahhhhh. It must have lasted all of.....

30 seconds. Maybe a minute, but not much more. Then -

“HOOOOONNNKKKK!!!” “Crack!” “Slam” and hollered curses filled my street. Yup. Once again, the weather came as a shock and affront to those around us. You could feel the outraged horror, “Snow? In Ohio? In March? Its not fair!” Cars slid like ping pong balls across our unplowed street. People looking out their window and seeing solid sheets of white decided that Now... NOW is the perfect time to venture out into town and acquire groceries. NOW is the time to buy salt for the driveway. Of course... NOW we should go get a snow shovel.

Sigh.

Okay... I'm going to go with the assumption those that read this site are of normal if not above normal intelligence. Assumptions are usually bad ideas, but work with me. So, could one of you smart folks kindly tell this nerd why, when living in a state with known weather “issues”, do people not do a tiny bit of prep work to brace themselves for what the elements might throw at them?

When the road is auditioning for a gig as a hockey rink - that is not the time to go for milk. When snow is blowing so hard you can't tell if the car is on the road or the neighbor's front yard – its not a good moment to find out you're out of toilet paper.

Work with me people.

*Ah yes. The Prime Geek's job. That would be why. Drat... I'd request offers for warm climate companies seeking their own Prime Geek, but who else but his current employers would send us on a honeymoon?

Dealing

2008-03-04T10:47:00.000-08:00

The expected call came late Sunday night, and now my family is shuffling its way through the planning and preparing stages of the final act. Schedules are being arranged, plans changed, and the mechanical movements of grief are being played out.

It wasn't a surprise, not really. 98 years is one heck of a good run, and with the added blessing of almost 94 of them being self-sufficient and in control of her own life... there is far more to celebrate then to mourn. She has gone on home to her husband, a son, and her friends. Over the past few years I've often sat and wondered if I would have the same strength if I found myself the last of my peers. She came into her own in her 80's. Her first art show, a published book, a trip abroad to Scotland, her first piece of bubblegum - taken and chewed with relish after stating her father never allowed the practice... but she figured what she did now was safe from reprisal!

We'll gather and say the right words, mumbling how much she will be missed – all the while grateful she has gone at last and can find her peace and clarity after a torturous few years locked into a body and mind too far gone to allow her any freedom.

I spent yesterday dealing with the whole situation in the manner built into my dna. The morning was spent in a haze of lemon scented wax and apple cider vinegar – dust bunnies trembled in my wake, windows were flung open to let in the unbelievable 68' fresh air, and my home was frogmarched into order and respectability. My family deals with difficulties and trouble by ordering our lives and delving into projects. (As I write this, my father – mourning a women who was more his 2nd mother then a cousin... following the death of his mom in July, this is a double blow to him – has begun a major home remodel involving the demo of a side of the house. We deal – by getting things done.)

Once the dust cloud cleared and the cats crawled out of hiding, I pushed away all thoughts of death by focusing on life. A sweater for a soon to be born baby was finished, a bag meant for trips to the farmers market is at last complete, and I have dragged out my seed trays and new toys for the growing season ahead. Photo's tomorrow as well as new beginnings for the nerdly nest.

Oh, and one last thing. I am still trying to figure out my best way to meditate (keeping up with my promised participation in the mindfulness challenge) but my method yesterday was a simple one. The baby sweater found each stitch being mumbled over, prayers of happiness, health, and... for the sake of the sanity of the cousin bringing this long in arriving little girl into the world– a quick delivery.

Focusing on life and new starts in a time of endings.

(Now, all I need is for a certain friend to fall into the same bandwagon and join this challenge. You know you want to......)

Mindful March

2008-03-01T19:51:00.000-08:00

While I am going to make my post on the short and sweet side tonight – well, short anyway, I did want to make sure I posted at least a little something on the 1st of March... at least enough to explain the odd little kangaroo on the right of this page.

A blogger that I have recently started reading, Chile from http://chilechews.blogspot.com/ made a rather intriguing challenge for March. The gauntlet to avoid the stresses of March Madness and replace them with a month of mindfulness and attempts to avoid stressing out was laid before her readers... and as I am nothing but an eager follower (I think I just heard all those who know me in real life snort their drinks into their keyboards.) I decided to give it a whirl. Initially I joined out of a curiosity to see if I was actually capable of stemming some of the frenetic energy I constantly run on. The Prime Geek is a mountain of zen calm when compared to my hyper kinetic pace, and he has often bemoaned my apparent inability to just... breathe. I figured tossing my name into the ring would give me a month of being accountable in my attempts at meditation and calm. Essentially, I figured that if I said I was going to do it publicly, I would have to pony up in my claims. (Same reason this month will find me in a few other challenges.)

I had planned to spend the few days I had left in February to do a little bit of research into different meditation techniques and determine where I wanted to start. Well, to paraphrase a favored poet “the best laid plans of mice and nerds...”

Instead, the end of February found me scurrying around like a mouse in a maze – with little or no time to decide how I best should attack this challenge. As I wrote yesterday, my family is experiencing the surreal time dilation that can only be found in the anxious spiral of a death watch. Toss in – starting a new class, sick animals, a job proposal (a good thing, but a terrifying tightrope to walk), some family dramas, and the myriad of other items that have chosen just now to scream for my attention... I very nearly scraped the whole idea and said to hell with it.

Fingers poised over the send key to deliver my email retracting my participation, I stopped. While on the one hand, joining a blog challenge seems foolish. One more item to tic off each day, one for thing to get done before I catch my four hours of sleep, one more thing I frankly just didn't need. But on the other... is there really any better time to force myself to slow down and quietly work through my own thoughts then when I have pushed myself to the extreme limits of my endurance? I have several chronic health issues that make stress doubly difficult AND dangerous to my system, wouldn't that make the perfect reason behind staying with the challenge?

So, with that in mind, I reaffirm my promise to take the next thirty one days and just try to relax – if only a little. At least thirty minutes a day will be put aside for a brief moment of zen (or as close as I can get to it). I'm not sure approach I'm gonna take, that will be something I figure out over this weekend. I may even try several different methods until I find one that is a perfect fit. At the moment, I'm gonna go pour myself a glass of wine, soak myself in a hot bath, then curl up in bed with a copy of the Tao of Pooh.

That's relaxing, right?

Until the Weekend

2008-02-29T09:01:00.000-08:00

While I have a ton of projects to talk about, posting is going to be spotty this weekend.

A bit of a life dump is occuring here at the Nest, and these things have to be dealt with first.

I had thought the only "extra" I would be dealing with this week would be furball # 3's trip to the vet to pull her out of the gene pool, but instead this weekend is going to be spent waiting for a call to tell me an elderly relative has passed.

Sorry to start the weekend out on a bummer note for everyone. Go look at www.icanhascheezburger.com if you need a mood stabalizer.

Addendum to a Complaint -

2008-02-27T09:01:00.001-08:00

Sigh.

While I understand that several people's comments were meant as tongue and cheek as my own post yesterday... the fact that several readers decided I was serious over my confusion and consternation regarding the ambient temperature and the falling snow and took it upon themselves to write private emails outlining my educational deficiencies forces me to readdress yesterdays post. I would have left it and just moved on, but three emails* decided to take me to task and inform me that I am not as as smart as I think I am, and am in fact, quite the idiot.

In case I have failed to make something clear... I, am a smartass. Sarcasm and the love of wordplay have throughout the course of my life gotten me into more trouble then any other deviant behavior I may exhibit. Granted, this particular predilection also gained me a husband... but far more often I get myself in trouble because the folks I am speaking to don't quite catch the tongue-in-cheek nature I use to express myself.

So to clarify... yes. I understand how it can snow and be 34 degree. I was being facetious because I was frustrated at being snowbound – again. It was meant as a mildly cranky joke as I watched my world go white once more.

I understand that almost everyone who reads these little brain blots of mine comprehends and recognises when I am just being a sarcastic twit. I believe there were even a few comments and emails sent that prove I'm not the only one wandering around with a smartypants nature - let's do lunch one day. I have a feeling the conversation will be insane, but fun for all. Just ask Oonagh over in the corner what happens when we get rolling together. But for the three in the back who spent far too much time patting themselves on the back for setting me straight...

Do yourself a favor and pull your heads out of your respective asses. Thanks.

Tomorrow? Gardening at last.

*So help me, Oonagh, if you think I'm speaking about you, I"ll spank you! And to all of you trying to read this little type, go to her site (it's listed on the side) AND her ebay site. Buy much, buy often.

I Feel I Should Complain....

2008-02-26T09:34:00.000-08:00

I distinctly remember being told in the 4th grade that water only freezes at 32 degrees. Point of fact, I also recall having to write that little immutable fact of life onto a chalkboard 20 times as I had apparently been talking to a friend while the teacher was explaining water only freezes at 32 degrees.... and not a jot above.

Will someone please call my science teacher and ask him to drop me a line? I have a small bone to pick with him.

The four temperature gauges in the Nerdly Nest all report conclusively (and the weather channel agrees) that it is 34-36 degrees outside.

So how the Hades do I have THIS out my window:

5 inches and still growing.

I feel owed a retroactive gold star.

Someone please tell me spring is on the way? I'll be spending my afternoon planting seed trays in an attempt to remind myself that I won't be stuck in this frigid hell for much longer.

And if anyone see Mr. Miller? Give him a smack for me, would you?

Rethinking Fast Food Part Two

2008-02-22T14:24:00.000-08:00

The first step in fixing a problem is to identify it. In other words – we have to stop eat so much fast food and ready made crap. Check.

The second took a bit more time... mainly because I had to swipe the Prime Geek's cell phone to begin. After a few furtive moments I managed to separate him from his electronic baby (I can't be the only person who hates those stupid ear pieces. I never know if he's talking to me, on the phone, or temporarily gone out of his mind and is talking to the pixies again.) and quickly thumbed down through his rolodex. Pizza parlors – deleted. Chinese take out – gone. Local chicken and jo-jo's* delivery joint – eliminated. Hey, can't make just an easy call if you don't have the numbers, right? The bellow when he found out I had done some corrective surgery to his beloved cell was staggering, but in the end even he saw the reasoning behind it.** Flyers advertising daily specials and sales went straight into the woodburner with take-out menus fast after. I'm not at a point where I am going to throw away the ready-made mixes I have in the pantry, (IE – I'm too darn cheap to toss things I paid cold hard cash for.) and while a few friends suggested donating it all to a local food pantry (why should poor folks have to eat crap? I'll donate... but it will be the real stuff, not leavings and leftovers I simply don't want.) I've instead decided to simply use up what I have and just not buy more. The mixes and quick fixes I often reach for will be replaced by some quick thinking and homemade mixes where I not only know what all is in the food... but I can spell it as well! (Honestly, I'm at the point where a food being recognized by my spell checker is becoming a requirement to me ingesting it.)

Third step... and the one I've begun to work on. The real motivation between fast food fixes and drive-thru letdowns is simple. Outta time, outta energy, outta motivation, and outta ideas. I need some quick to's that will let this often beleaguered bard have a solution in a hurry. A solution that won't tax my brain OR my bank balance. Where to start? First came the realization that one of the first go-tos we have for the dinner blues is Chinese food. Quick, semi-not-too-terrible for us, and relatively cheap as well. So... time to figure out some Asian inspired home hasties*** I can keep on hand.

Repeat after me - “In wontons we will trust.” Ahhh... the miraculous marvels that having those handy little pasta skins in the fridge will allow. I tend to drop these little jewels into the grocery cart almost every time I shop... which is why I found five packages in the meat tray during my rummage today. (I buy with good intentions... but once tossed into the chill chest I tend to forget what's in there.) Two pans of leftovers filled my first home hasties needs. One pan – a roasted pork loin I had cooked for Sunday dinner on a nest of brown rice and some veggies. The other pot held the remains of a rotisserie chicken I had picked up earlier in the week for a last minute dinner (yeah yeah... fast food, I know. I'm working on it! At least I'm getting better at using everything up, I even have the carcase simmering away for broth.).

The meats got minced fine (separately), mixed with a bit of this and a splash of that, and then the real work began. Two messy hours later and I went from this –

****

to these-.

Lovely little wontons for a myriad of uses. Potstickers are the favorite in this house, served with an amazing pomegranate soy sauce the Prime Geek dreamed up one night (I'm trying to get him to A- make a ton more and B- please PLEASE get the recipe written down so we don't lose it! Once I force the pen and paper on him, I'll share it here.) along the side. But for meals in a moment - I can also toss them in broth for soup, give them a steam, or even deep fry if I'm feeling like going all the way.

Tossed onto a cookie sheet and flash frozen, these will get tagged and bagged for future meal emergencies.

Tomorrow, I'll begin to tackle one of the largest projects of the nerdly year..... hope you all are up for a ride!

* One of the weirdest things for this nerd when I moved to northern Ohio was discovering the almost ultish following of mom and pop eateries to combine pizza with chicken and jo-jos. I disn't understnad then... still don't today.

** I may have also deleted a few old girlfriends of his as well as a club or two. Oops?

*** Sadly, home hasties -no matter how much I am aware is an odd little phrase to go with, my nerdly brain will allow me to use no other.

**** Finally - in refrence to the purple gloves under the bowl. No, I don't have some squimishness regarding handling food. I just managed to burn/slice/spinter/and otherwise mangle my hands this week. I don't use bandaids, just clean it all out and use a bit of honey. As I don't want hot sauce in a cut... or an open wound in my food - gloves.

This weeks mental digression is brought to you by the letters B, H, R and the number 3. Thank you.

Rethinking Fast Food

2008-02-19T14:02:00.000-08:00

Confession time for this nerd. While I was raised on real food, and even truly enjoy cooking... I can get lazy quick. I know all the arguments for resisting the siren call of fast food; heart clogging saturated fats, over the roof salt levels, mystery meats and only vaguely understood sauces, jacked-up prices WAY out of range of the actual price of ingredients, and the vague nauseous feeling you get soon after you suck the last drop out of your biggie gulp to name just a few reasons to avoid the drive-thru window. Far too often meal times arrive with ninja-swiftness, blindsiding this nerd (I mean really... we just ate five hours ago... it can't be time to do it again, can it?) and causing complete shutdown of the meal programming systems.

I start out earnestly enough, the weekly meals get roughly sketched out on the weekends. I industriously scout the freezer/pantry/fridge for what we have, what we need, and what I can substitute for. But one day the Prime Geek will be late getting home – so that meal gets put on the back burner. Another day will find us staying home all day, so the defrosted chicken for Thursday gets eaten on Tuesday for lunch... and now Thursday finds us without a plan. Leftovers put aside for a quick soup on the weekend get snacked on and Saturday is spent staring forlornly into an empty fridge. We could thaw the roast... but that's going to take a few hours. Cook the chicken... but it's tomorrows dinner.

So a call to the pizza joint, a quick pass through the burger joints arches, or a run into the Chinese place down the street. One quick meal won't hurt us.... right?

Except its becoming a far more common occurrence lately. Between the battle of the plagues that rocked the PG and I'd world for a few months, a promotion that has the PG working a far more erratic schedule, and my tendency to get so wrapped upped in projects that I completely forget I actually DO require food at some point during the day, we've strayed a wee bit (okay, a couple of times a week may constitute more then a wee bit) when it comes to eating “real” food.

Having the largest garden possible, sourcing all our meat locally, or refusing to buy boxed foods and switching to home cooked will not help us one jot if we're still shoveling down the cardboard crap the fast food restaurants serve.*

Its time to snip this bad habit in the bud. Well, alright, its more like we're pulling out the shrub by the roots... but still. Today is the first day of attack. One of the reasons 7o'clock rolls around and finds me scrabbling for dinner plans (and all too often giving it up as a bad job and ordering a pizza) is that I seem incapable of remembering to eat lunch. ** I can be relied upon to cook a balanced meal for others, but the thought of dirtying all those pans just for myself has me choosing to graze on handfuls of chips and a few slurps of a fizzy water over the course of the day. Hunger (along with dizziness and a rather lethargic feeling) makes planning a “real” meal at the end of the day a mountain to climb. Time to at least pretend to be an adult and start eating meals during the day.

Oh joy. I do SO love being mature.

* The really embarrassing part of this is, the Prime Geek's father is an executive chef and I grew up a food snob. We really do know better.

** Sadly, I really do seem incapable of remembering this basic human fact. I have a slight heart "issue" that can cause me to get dizzy at the best if times, going without food just guarentees at some point I'm going down, usually at the most embarrassing moment. Chalk in the fact that at 6' something, I run the risk of crushing fleeing villagers in my tumble and it can get embarrassing.

Owe

2008-02-14T12:01:00.000-08:00

I was going to have a long post today, meandering from some green but still nerdy Valentine ideas to the unveiling of the first of the multitude of nifty things that are beginning to occur in the Prime Geek and I's life....

But, I just fell down half a flight of stairs and ripped all the skin off my palm (on my UNBURNED hand... its been a week here at the nest folks), jarred my elbow, and I think I also managed to skin my back as I slid down the carpeting to finally come to rest with a less then happy feeling spine.

So.

With really no ado, the reason the Prime Geek and I are getting passport photos?

His job – realizing that if they want him to continue working a job that has him getting phone calls at all hours of the day as well as trundling into the office on weekends and late nights after he's already driven home, and also realizing that finding a matching pair of Japanese twin acrobats with a willing nature is difficult to hide on the company books – put him up for a bit of an award.

He won. 17 months behind, we're going to get our honeymoon. In June, we'll be heading out onto a 5 day cruise through Catalina and Baja. (Yes, I squealed like a teenager when I found out!) On one hand... we're taking a trip with 2,000 other insurance company workers – which kinda sounds like a really bad joke setup – but I don't care. I'll have my scuba training by then (I love having friends that can teach AND certify me in things), and the PG is thrilled the ship has a trained Sushi-ya. Hey, as long as they don't mind dropping mine in the deep fryer before serving me, its all good. I've moved all over, even done my share of traveling, but the cruise thing is completely new to both of us.

There. Nothing green. Short – for me. Back to the natural nerdliness tomorrow (where a brand new toy will be unveiled... and it actually is on topic for a change).

I'm going to go soak my pride and valiantly refrain from calling my mommy.

Happy Valentine's Day folks. Give those you care about a hug – its carbon free and completely environmentally friendly.

Keeping things interesting

2008-02-12T16:45:00.000-08:00

While the Prime Geek and I have only been married for a tad bit longer then a year, we have been together pretty much nonstop for the better part of four and a half. Truth be told, we met – became good friends, noticed after six months that we were killing multiple cordless phones each night in our lengthy discussions (our emails were also suspected in a sudden onset of mild carpal tunnel syndrome), decided to try one “date” wherein we closed a restaurant down (they let us stay while they closed, at first thinking we were celebrating an anniversary... shock and awe – as well as a few “ahhhsss” and knowing winks when we admitted to it being a first date) spent the better part of the rest of the evening laying in my parents field desperately trying to not say anything “too soon, too fast, too much” - we failed in that – and three weeks later I moved to this cold city a full block away from his house. From that point on, we were together. Separated when he went to work and to bed... only apart in mailing addresses and shoe storage*.

Weird, I know. While our conversations range wildly... and I do mean wildly**, we've never really had the “getting to know you” speeches. He knew how I take my tea, when the time came I knew which side of the bed he slept on. We just, well, fit.

Things are never boring here at the nest. We challenge each other constantly, forcing each other to stretch in new ways to keep up with the other. To that end, we're attempting something new.

He and I have very similar gifts – with VERY different applications. What do I mean? He, annoyingly, can hear a language and begin to absorb it. He speaks Germen with a thick Germen accent – no formal training – and has picked up French, Spanish, and enough Arabic to get himself in trouble. Can't really read a lick of it though.

Me? While accents are an issue to me (Allow me to apologize in advance. If we should ever meet, I tend to absorb accents. A holdover from having moved hither and yon my whole life, but I tend to begin speaking in whatever accent I hear. Blame the fact I had a Boston accent as a child, have southern relatives, and a mother who force fed me PBS and British movies. I'm not mocking, I just can't help it.) I can't really speak anything other then English. Reading? Whole other story. As a kid I took Latin (which gives you a basis for all the romance languages, seriously. Take Latin and you can muddle your way through just about everything.) AND had a serious British mystery fetish. If you read Christie or Sayers, you know back in the 20's authors had the annoying tendency of dropping into French at the drop of the hat. I learned to read it mainly to figure out what the hades Hercule had gotten himself into! So in the end, I can read my way through five or six languages. Can't speak them... and my ear is nowhere near tuned enough to pick them up.

See? Similar, yet different. To that end, we're tackling a new challenge together. We've decided that anything in the Romance languages is a cheat. No matter what we would choose, one of us would be ahead. So after a wrangle in the bookstore, we finally settled on one with even a brand new alphabet. We're learning Russian. Do we plan to go to Russia? Not really, perhaps one day. Are we of Russian extraction? Nope. I doubt we'd be such fair weather babies if our ancestors stomped the Russian steppes. Want to read the great Russian authors in their original language? No. I've read War and Peace... I prefer Tolkien and Pratchett. We're just weird enough that something new like this gives us both a happy. Just keeping things fresh - without investing in those embarrassing relationship tapes. I know we're still new to this whole marriage “thang” but I figure as long as things as simple as learning together keep our attention... we're doing okay.

Where is this going? Hey, I'm just trying to build a little momentum before one of the first big announcements I have for Valentine's day!

*And even then it wasn't always clear who lived where. My place had the shower, so his ablutions tended to be at my place. HIS home had the big screen tv, so movie nights had us cuddled pretty tightly at his.

** He is the only one who has ever been able to not only keep up but at times out pace me in a conversation that ricochet from medieval languages, to sub atomic particles, to African tree frogs, without a pause for breath as three Seussian couplets make their way into being. He is also the only one who will get into endless word games while holding five conversation treks as once. I had no choice but to marry him!

Tagged?

2008-02-09T20:16:00.000-08:00

After posting for about six months I had thought I had successfully dodged a particular little oddity running around the internet. The sporadic outbreaks of meme's (essentially virtual games of tag) however, has finally caught up to my corner of the web and I've been tagged. Not really what I was planning to do this evening... but the Prime Geek and myself are currently sitting in the center of a vicious weather system that has him trying to sleep off a migraine in the corner while I just hope for the Excedrin to kick in.

That being said... might as well burn through one blog post by answering the meme.

Let's see.

1) The rules for this meme are:
2) Link to the person that tagged you.
3) Post the rules on your blog.
4) Share six non-important things/habits/quirks about yourself.
5) Tag six random people at the end of your post by linking to their blogs.
6) Let each random person know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their website.

So – the lady who started this whole weirdness for me is Chile over at http://chilechews.blogspot.com/ . Do yourself a favor and check this lady out. I only found her a few weeks ago, and really am loving what I'm reading. The Prime Geek and myself aren't about to become vegetarians*... but the way she presents her material is both entertaining and intriguing. Her site has definitely become part of my morning reading ritual over my morning mug of tea.

The rules are posted... guess its time for the six non-important things (so much easier to think of it all she had asked for was 6 improbable things, but I'll work with the rules this time.) about this nerd.

1- I'm mildly colorblind. Not the dangerous at stop lights red/green kind, but I have a heck of a time differentiating between two shades. No big deal, but a pain in the butt when I am trying to match my socks. (This is one of the reason why I almost always wear mismatched socks.

2 - I hate the texture of onions. Love the taste... hate the mouth feel. I almost always have to grate onions to cook with them to compensate for this.

3 – I have based the adoption of every pet I have had on one feature. Ears.

4 – I've dislocated my shoulders so many times I can pop them in and out with little or no effort.

5 – After seven read-thru's, I still think Moby Dick is just a good adventure story about a whale.

6 – I don't care about the hype... I honestly can't tell the difference between cheap “jug-o-wine” and the supposedly good stuff.

That was far harder then I would ever have guessed.

Now... who to pick on?

First, wander on over to http://redshirtknitting.com/ , Erica has a great site I check often.
Another on that gets checked daily is http://cheaplikeme.wordpress.com/
I might get blasted by her ire... but hey, Proff... you're it - http://crankyprof.blogspot.com/
Just found her a few weeks ago and love her stuff so : http://cleanerplateclub.wordpress.com/
http://www.tigersandstrawberries.com/ is worth to just drool over her recipes and finally -
http://limenviolet.blogspot.com/ . Technically a podcast, but as they kept me sane this week while knitting. Check them out!

Okay... 6 things, 6 people bothered. Off for more migraine meds.

* Short explanation for why no argument will sway me. My body is weird, it starts shutting down without meat based protein. Ive had rude questions regarding my families marital relations with cats. Just doesn't work, so not gonna happen.

End of the Pink Monster

2008-02-08T16:18:00.000-08:00

The Prime Geek is off with a friend doing his home heating duties (in other words, the poor lad is chopping/stacking/loading/unloading a metric butt ton of wood tonight) so I have the nest all to myself for the evening.

Did I spend it soaking in a bubble bath?
Perhaps watching a couple of chick flicks with a delivered pizza and a bottle of girly beer?
Manicure? Pedicure? A good book?

Nope. The bath comes later, I'm more likely to watch an action flick then Steel Magnolias, no pizza (although the beer sounds tasty right about now... I may look into that for tomorrow), my nails are so far gone its not worth trying to salvage them, and frankly... I haven't sat and read for over a week. (Will be rectified with the bath later on.)

However.

The pink monster is now finished. Well. Knitted. 17+ hours of relentless knitting - including a terrible bout of unraveling and reknitting after Trouble #2 & #3 grabbed it during a catfight, but we won't go into that now because I have to eat something before I can start drinking tequila.

Tomorrow, the blocking, seaming, and finishing... and I can resume my nerdly life (yes... green updates at last on the 'morrow.)

While I can't feel my wrists, I've been stuck in one place for three days, and I have begun to loathe pink to an unnatural length - I learned how to make a sweater, listened to some amazing podcasts (if you knit, get thee to Lime & Violet's place at http://limenviolet.blogspot.com/ posthaste!), AND begun a new project the Prime Geek and myself are settling into. Gotta keep the marriage interesting, now don't we?

Later. Gonna go find A) food B) alchohol and C) a VERY hot tub of water.

Have a good night.

What's the Nerd Up To?

2008-02-07T17:44:00.000-08:00

This is what I had yesterday morning :

This, well, this is what I have tonight :

One more day of frantic knitting and the Mason-Dixon baby kimono (a baby gift for the Prime Geek's boss) will be finished. At the moment? I am truly begining to loathe pink. On the up side? Who knew I could knit a baby sweater in three days. Granted... the dishes are stacking up, we had to go out for dinner, and I couldn't tell you if I am wearing clean jeans or not.

(I did mail out a letter to my congressman and senator regarding the bags, thanks to a handy website full of address - http://www.usa.gov/Contact/Elected.shtml. Your turn!)

Tomorrow I finally get to start letting several cats out of the bag regarding some big news for the Prime Geek and myself.....

And I plan to spend much of the day figuring out what the PG is gonna owe me for dropping me into this pink hell. Don't know what yet, but its gonna be big.*

* On the up side? Its a warm sweater for a cute little girl. All things being equal, not a bad three days work. Just don't tell the PG that... I am trying to guilt him into buying me a spinning wheel.

The Nerd Party

2008-02-05T14:41:00.000-08:00

As it happens to be Super Tuesday, I figure I'll risk my nerdly neck and venture out into the wilds of political speaking and toss an idea into the ring that I think we all can agree on together. Dangerous? You bet, these political wrangles can get ugly – FAST. But I figure if I can manage a holiday dinner with my parents (retired Marine* NRA father and dedicated homemaker mother**... with that pedigree I bet me outing them as staunch Republicans will come as little shock to my readers) and the Prime Geeks parents (Democrat to the bone, teacher's union, and things haven't been the same since Kennedy was killed) without bloodshed, I think I can wind my way through this tango without too much terror.

After a few sleepless nights (I might also confess to a few glasses of sangria – applied medically, of course) I feel I have hit upon the perfect act to unify our nation. Republicans holding hands with Democrats, Treehuggers with Gunnuts, Grannies and Bikers, Cheerleaders and Chess players....

The idea came to me the way many kernels of insight come to me – the Prime Geek, bored out of his nut while a program compiles tends to surf the web (strictly to multi task, of course) a wee bit obsessively. This means I will sometimes receive dozens of emails over the course of a 24 hour period, with topics ranging from the environmental... to the newest posting on icanhascheezburger.com. On one hand these emails remind me that my husband thinks of me often over the course of the day, on the other – well, sometimes it would be easier if he would just roll over and tell me instead of IM'ing me from the other side of the bed. These are the burdens a mixed marriage holds. When Nerds and Geeks join their lives together, compromises must be found... if only for the sake of the Mp3 collection.

Anyway... it all started with an email containing the following link : http://www.nytimes.com/2008/02/02/world/europe/02bags.html?hp=&pagewanted=all .

We've walked this path before, journaling my attempts to corral the ever present plastic grocery bag from my home... but this seems to take the whole effort to a truly logical conclusion. Want a plastic bag to carry your goods home in? Okay, fine. That's allowed... but you're going to have to pay for it. Not a huge amount (Ireland's tax of $0.33 seems reasonable. Less then a can of soda on the way out of the store, the price means if you really really just have to have the plastic it is still a doable cost for most.), no shouting, no tsking, no guilt inducing fingers being shaken at you. Simply pay the nice cashier as you would for any other item being purchased at the store and move on about your day. Not want to pay an extra tax on your box of Capt'n Crunch and 6-pack of Coke? No worries, just grab a bag on your way out of the house or keep one in the car for last minute sugar rushes.

A green option – one that the environmentally vocal Democrats should love. Ireland reduced their use of the planet damaging by 94% in a single year... think how our nations parks and streets would look in just a year with that kind of reduction in trash littering the sidewalks. We accept a tax on other items not so great for us – soda, cigarettes, and beer topping the list – why not on something everyone agrees is harmful?

Don't think I'm leaving the Republicans out of the happy dance we can all waltz to with this idea. Think of it – all those flimsy bags being made by the million in foreign countries. There would be an overnight explosion in American craftspersons desperately trying to fill a bag-induced void. Heck, we're already working on it -search ebay, etsy, or any of a dozen other craft sale sites and you'll find thousands of versions of the new style of grocery bag. The first republican who grabs onto this idea and presents it in their campaign is going to FORCE inter-party cooperation. No democrat can argue its a needed idea, no republican can come up with a reason to resist.

Let's make our leaders play nicely in their chosen sandboxes. Forward the link (and hey, this site as well) to your friends and let's see if we can make a difference in this politically fraught year.

If you carry a purse, remember your car keys, or make sure to grab your id badge before heading off to work, then grabbing a bag before you head out for a day of shopping should be easy.

Tomorrow I'll post some addresses to forward your requests for a bag tax to... and include a few nifty ways to cut down on our use as well. Til then, remember – no politics at the dinner table. It just causes indigestion and tossed mashed potatoes.

Viva la' Nerdly Revolution!

*My father requires I explain – there are only two kinds of people in the world. Marines and those that wish they were. There apparently is no such thing as a retired Marine... there are only Marines currently serving, and those on standby.+
** Mom prefers the term “Domestic Goddess” and has begun to insist my father refer to her as such when he is introducing her to his friends.+
+ And people wonder why I turned out just slightly odd. Frankly, its amazing I can even SEE normal on a good day.

Cut Off!

2008-02-05T07:49:00.000-08:00

Wanna know if you might be a teeny tiny bit addicted to trawling the internet?

Don't choose to stay offline (easy enough when its my call to work on more importent things) but, instead, simply wake up and wander computer-wards with hot tea in hand ready to check the news and mail and discover -GASP, HORROR!

No signal. Then spend the rest of your day relentlessly checking and rechecking to see if the problem is fixed.

The Prime Geek spanked it firmly when he got home... and now I'm trying to get caught up on my work.

Check back this evening.... I should have gotten past the withdrawel shakes by then!

Shorty

2008-02-02T18:08:00.001-08:00

I'm in a bit of a twitter at the moment... several grand events are drawing to a head, and drat it all if I'm not allowed to spill the beans until later on in the coming week!

A few wee hints and them I'm off to soak in a hot bath and indulge in a quick maniacal giggle or two as I contemplate upcoming events.

1) The mad experiment in discerning how far one can go in the realm of self-sufficiency is about to begin... arrivals of great import are in the near offing. Granted, these items have the Prime Geek shaking his head over my supreme slide into nerdiness.

2) We seem to be in need of passports. Rather pressing need in fact... as well as a conclusion that has me facing the terrifying prospect of requiring a bikini. (As well as the body to wear one!)

Any more and I'll burst out with all the news at once (There's a reason family members get their Christmas presents staged out over the whole year... I can't keep goodies quiet, I always have to share it at once.)

'Scuse me, I'm off to go whisper it into the cats ears in the hope it will ease the desire to bounce!

No. I'm not. We're not. Not for at least another year or two. Honestly... would I be contemplating both a bikini and a bassinet at the same time? Now way... not until the hollywood types give up their sources of stunt bodies to take the brunt of the stretch marks!

A Moment of Nerdliness

2008-01-31T13:57:00.000-08:00

Today I'm going to step away from the green line for an evening, and instead post on a recent nerdly outbreak here at the nest. (Main reason? All I've done today is laundry and tote firewood AFTER a day driving down to my parents to pick up aforementioned 850 pounds of firewood. Which I loaded alone. Myself. Frankly, the nerdly brain is not running at high speed at the moment... although the nerdly back and shoulders definitely are yelling loudly. Little green going's on here at the moment.)

As I mentioned last week, the Prime Geek and myself celebrated our first wedding anniversary over the weekend. Did we spend our time gazing adoringly into each other's eye over a candlelit dinner while a strolling violinist serenaded us with Italian love songs? Perhaps a moonlit walk through fog strewn streets clutching each others hands as we re-pledged our devotion to each other? Maybe a rose petal covered hotel bed following a steamy passionate shared bath in scented oils?

Nahhh. We went to see the spoof “Meet the Spartans” at a local theater after a quick dinner at a local Italian bar and grill. (We're not exactly a Harlequin romance novel kind of couple, folks. We did indulge in a bit of hand holding that had the teenagers rolling their eyes at the “old folks” and
I will confess that a year hasn't seem to cool the Prime Geeks affinity for walking with his hand firmly cupping my nerdly tuckus. Romantic? Maybe not... but I don't see us parting ways in the next hundred years* or so, so I think we're figuring this marriage thing out pretty well!)

The food... was sub par, which was a bit disappointing. We had hopes that this restaurant would become our local hangout, but they are switching from fresh made and locally sourced to flash frozen and commercially made. Bummer, but it just means we get the fun of exploring our area for another place to while away a few evenings a month.

The movie? I'll confess... I went mainly for a chance to see Kevin “Hercules” Sorbo prancing around in a loincloth again. (What?!? If PG can cop to a Carmen Electra fixation, I can admit to my affinity for large oiled men in Roman gear. I'm married... not dead.) Was the movie a tour de force? Nope. Well written? Ehhh.

Funny enough to make me snort popcorn? Darned straight! It would appear that various theater's got slightly different cuts, so we missed the scene we had been shown in the previews regarding Rambo's “little friend”... but it was still worth the price of admission. In an effort to not spoil the whole shebang (cause I really recommended giving this one a look see. It's not high drama, its not in the least classy, but it IS an entertaining way to spend a few hours provided you're in the over 18 crowd. Expect loads of sex jokes, more then a bit of homosexual fueled humor – but hey. We ARE talking about the Spartans here. Known far and wide as warriors and fans of the male form.) I will just give a few highlights in an effort to get a few of you off the couch and into the theater.

- The aforementioned Sorbo spends the majority of the movie either skipping, holding hands with his fellow soldiers, or breaking into song. Worth every penny, even if it DID kill my Hercules fantasies cold.

- Really... we all have icons in mind who we would love to see get tossed into the pit of doom. Ryan Seacrest and the rest of the Idol team going over the edge had me cheering.

- Expect to clutch your chest in sympathetic pain when Xerxes first hits the screen. I'll admit the staple gun was a bit much, but I still sniggered like a 13-year old.

- If you have been forced into watching Happy Feet (or any of the dozens of overly cutesy animal based films in the last few years) by the youngsters in your life? Expect their comeuppance to finally occur.

- Paris Hilton = Hunchbacked traitor. Priceless.

- Finally... a finale worthy of Priscilla “Queen of the Desert”. While watching Lord Elron prance around in high heels in the Australian outback while singing “Mama Mia” was a life changing event... watching the entire cast break out into a musical rendition of “I will Survive” nearly did this nerd in.

They ripped a movie I truly enjoyed (300) and I still will end up buying this when the dvd comes out. Yes, it is sophomoric humor, but it did serve its purpose. A reason to cuddle with my honey while eating buttered popcorn and a chance to get out of the house during a cold spell that has had us nearly housebound.

Don't expect highbrow humor... but you will get a decent amount of giggles for your ticket.

* We have a simple agreement in our marriage. We don't even SAY the D-word in relationship to our lives. One of us may leave in a body bag, but we're in this for the long haul. But... I did leave one caveat in our marriage. After 100 years we're allowed to reassess and determine if we want to see other people.

Bread Part Deux

2008-01-30T18:25:00.000-08:00

I'm almost embarrassed to make the following admission... but to my shame, the recipe that has made fresh bread a daily occurrence in the nest comes from the undisputed Queen of Perky herself... Rachel Ray. I know, I know. It makes me hang my nerdly head in shame.

Shame aside... it really is good bread. But then, anything that starts with “Take a head and a half of roasted garlic” is bound to be something which will my little heart pitter patter. I found this recipe while perusing Ms. Ray's latest magazine (yes, I know. I should be embarrassed to admit it, but she IS easier to take in written form then in person. I can mute the perkiness when it is confined to the interior of my own skull.), in a section devoted solely to the joys of roasted garlic. While I have roasted a few garlic bulbs in my day, I must confess it has been a while. How I could have walked away from the joy that is roasted garlic frankly confounds me. Simplicity in itself – all that is required is a few bulbs of garlic with a ¼ of an inch of the tops chopped off, lay in tin foil, drizzle with olive oil, wrap tightly and chuck into the oven for 45 minutes at somewhere between 350 and 400 degrees : pull out when the garlic can be oozed out like golden toothpaste of happiness. After rediscovering this little joy, I can honestly say there are few times when my oven is heated that I don't just toss a little tinfoil bomb in along with whatever has to bake. This gooey substance makes me remember while I love to cook.

Her recipe can be found in the newest issue of her magazine... but if you can't bring yourself to buy (or be caught perusing) the magazine, she has kindly published it online at http://www.rachaelraymag.com/recipes/appetizer-side-dish-recipes/roasted-garlic-flatbread-with-tangy-chutney/article.html This bread combines everything I love into one little package of yeasty joy. A yeast raised bread – so plenty of chewy goodness – with all the care and work of raising sea monkeys. (In other words – little to no real work in the construction. Yay for nerdly sloth!) In most breads the real work is in the beginning. Careful mixing, kneading, tireless attentiveness to keeping it warm and working. In the end, you simply chuck the work laden doughy orb into a pan and let the oven take it from there. In the case of this flatbread... the order of effort is reversed. My handy dandy Kitchen Aide (I highly recommend buying one or do what I did. Marry someone who will give it to you for Christmas.) beat the dickens out of the soft dough for 5 minutes and then I tossed it into the microwave to work itself into a frenzy while I watched tv and knit. (Side note – easiest way to get your bread to proof* in a drafty old house? Soak a CLEAN dishtowel in water and put in the microwave. Zap the wet towel for one minute until everything is good and steamy. Push the towel to the back and pop in your dough – in a bowl – and close the door. The steam will keep it warm, the seals with keep it rising, and the latched door will keep the cats at bay.**) The only effort is at the end, where instead of turning on the stove and hiking the gas bill, the whole shebang gets cooked on a dry skillet on top of the stove. Eight pieces of bread... three minutes a piece, and joy and happiness rings out in the homestead.

A few notes to those that try the recipe. One? Please don't think garlic is the only way to go here. I've already found that substitutions are the order of the day with this recipe. Slowly, I'm mixing it up with the flours – sliding it from white to whole wheat with ease. Don't want a savory bread? Nix the garlic and add some extra honey. No buttermilk in the house? Either toss some vinegar in the regular cow juice doctored (I never have buttermilk on hand, and I am danged if I am gonna buy an ingredient just for one application. A cup of milk with a Tbsp of vinegar or lemon juice works every time.), or skip the tang and use the moojuice of choice. Hmmmm... wonder if a sweet version made with chocolate milk would work? This is a good solid recipe and with the whole oven avoidence thing, a rather green choice as well.

Secondly? Try not to get too caught up in the rolling out of the dough. Perfect concentric circles reeeaalllyy aren't gonna happen unless you are scary anal retentive. Just accept each piece is going to be a piece of freeform art and go with the flow. Already I have mastered several distinct forms. There's the Scream (ala' the famous painting), a lovely rendition of south Texas... or possibly Italy. Depends on how you hold the bread. A think I had one that looked like George Bush the other day.... but the Prime Geek thought it looked more like a 57' Chevy.

Whatever the appearance, I'm just thrilled to have REAL bread be a part of my eating life again. Give the recipe a try and let me know what you think.***

*Fancy baker speak for “Make the dough get all big and gassy.”
** In OUR house... this is a vital concern. I'll accept paw prints and hair on my black clothes, but I draw the line in my food.
*** Okay, okay. I promised pictures. But at the moment, my camera isn't talking to computer. UN negotiators tried... but that just made my computer threaten to bomb New Jersey in retaliation. Until things have calmed down you'll just have to squint and imagine what it all looks like. Deal, disappointment is a vital part of the maturation process.

Wow! Bread that tastes like..... Bread?

2008-01-29T12:29:00.000-08:00

As the month nears to an end, the Prime Geek and I have been discussing what should be our first step into a more self-sufficient lifestyle (okay, okay. We're going slow due to the six weeks of bronchial hell we've been wading through. I'm pretty much on the up and up... PG has sworn to call the doctor at last as he is tired of trying to locate his lungs after he hacks them out in the corner).

Yogurt making? It's on hold until I have determined the perfect maker to purchase. Solar panels? On hold until the tax return hits the accounts. Bread baking?

Score! Now, as a responsible nerdling, I did what I do best. Research. Yes, its sad how excited I get over the thought of pouring over dusty tomes (well... I searched a lot of internet sites, anyway.) but we've established the simple fact that I AM a nerd. Bread is a big deal our family. Located just a few miles from our nest is a bread factory that keeps the carb-crazed folks of our state sated. I'll cop to the fact the Prime Geek and myself will, at times, plan our driving around the factory's baking schedules. Even in the depths of the coldest winter, windows will roll down in every car – heads leaning out of the vehicles - sucking in deep lungfulls of the toasty air. Memories of grandma pulling fresh loaves out of the family stove swirl around in your mind (even if the closest your granny ever came was burning toast on a Saturday... the smell of fresh bread will cause your imagination to invent the pleasures of the past every time.).

Sadly, while the smell is heavenly... the bread itself has all the charm of a moldering sweat sock left forgotten in the bottom of your gym bag. A spongy white mass, suitable only for making bread balls. Frankly, this nasty stuff is the reason the PG and myself don't really keep bread in the house. Once in a while we will splurge at the local Panera (their three cheese bread has never made it into the house, disappearing in a cloud of crumbs during the short drive home), but I can rarely justify a $4 loaf of bread. Instead, we have been surviving on a mostly bread free existence. Cornmeal muffins, the odd tube of crescent rolls, and packages of tortillas for sandwich rollups tossed into the Prime Geeks lunches have become the norm.

But we have hungered for the staff of life, missing the thrill of a chewy bite used to sop up the last bits of a stew or the crackle of a hard crust that gives away to jam soaked goodness. What recipe to try first? Where to turn?

Where I found it would shock me.

But... that AND pictures of the heavenly stuff will have to wait until tomorrow. I hear the oven timer and have to go give dinner a poke.

Until tomorrow!

Laugh or Cry...

2008-01-27T14:55:00.000-08:00

A shortie this evening as it is the Prime Geek and I's 1st wedding anniversary, and frankly I have more exciting things to do this evening then talk to ya'll. (Wink, wink, nudge, nudge, say no more.... in other words folks, this nerd is getting laid!) But I did have a slightly surreal moment or two this day that I decided to share while I'm waiting for the fudge to heat up...

Now, I am in the midst of a knitting fervor here at the nest. I found a wonderful net bag pattern that is working out quite well for grocery bags. In fact, once I use up the cotton thread that is making up two of the bags, I'm gonna give slicing the ubiquitous plastic tribbles a try and knit myself a few out of the resulting plastic yarn (http://www.knitty.com/ISSUEsummer07/PATTeverlasting.html if you are interested, skip the hemp suggestion and just pick up the cheapie cotton dishcloth yarn the megamarts sells). But... I can only knit so fast, and when I go to the grocery its usually for more then a bag or two of items. I had two groceries to jaunt into today in order to prepare our anniversary supper. Sadly... I had left my net bag AND my cloth bags at home. In order to stick to the green way, I decided to finally break down and – HORRORS – buy a few more bags to keep in the car. Almost all of the groceries in the area are selling study canvas bags for a whopping $1. (Yes, I meant one buck. Can't make the dratted things for that! Yes, you have to tote around a store logo, turning you into a walking commercial, but hey. Small price to pay.) So, into my basket went a nice sturdy bag, all ready to carry my goodies to the car.

I confess. I wasn't paying attention. Perhaps it was the thought of the night to come... maybe the cashier had caught too much of my train of thought with her questions regarding the usefulness of the dish soap I was buying. (7th generation lilac and wild mint. Brilliant combo, great soap.) All I know is in the mere seconds I took my eyes off the goods, the bagger had efficiently and quickly bagged my purchases.

Allow me to repeat that. They bagged... the bags. Not just once, either. No no. That would be too simple. Yes, this darling little high schooler had decided that what my bags REALLY needed... was to be double bagged. In case one of the bags holding the bags broke.

Sigh.

The truly sad thing? When I questioned the rational behind bagging my bags, BOTH the bagger AND the cashier seemed to think it was a perfectly suitable idea. Its what they have been doing with ALL the bags they sell.

I shuffled out, beaten (and not a little confused about the state of the world today). Clutching my bags to my chest, I sat in my car – wondering if this planet really has a shot in Hades.

Three hours later I ran into another store to pick up the last ingredient for my Rosemary Beef Tips... grabbing another canvas bag as I wandered the store. Might as well spread the branding, right? I kept a steely eye on my sirloin as it made its track down the belt.

“No bags for the bags, please.” I said as loud as I dared.

“Of course not. That would be stupid.” the cashier rolled her eyes at me.

I would love to say all went well from that point... but they bagged the meat. Twice. And then looked me straight in the eye and asked...

“You don't want the meat in the bag, do you? I don't want to get it dirty for when you use it.”

Sigh.

Giggle or scream. What's a nerd to do?

Hmmm.

2008-01-24T08:04:00.001-08:00

Apparently, all my body REALLY needed was to collapse for 24 hours in a small ball in the middle of the bed and die for a day.

The Nerd is back... the full scale germ warfare has slowed, all that is left is a tad bit of guerrilla activity in the lower lung region.

More later on in the day, but at the moment I have to face digging my home out of a 6 week free fall on the cleaning front.

Nearly Beaten.

2008-01-22T10:45:00.000-08:00

Okay. Time to confess...

You are all dealing with one sick Nerd. The creeping greeb that has stalked both the Prime Geek and myself since a few weeks before Christmas just isn't listening to any of the dozens of eviction notices I have sent... and frankly, I think its planning on making me ill a family business.

Antibiotics, teas that taste of horse piss, and baths where the vapor goes oddly green have all been tried. I've attempted sleeping it off, working it out, sweating it clear, and even one weekend of insanity where I left the state in a blizzard and just tried to frankly ignore the whole dratted thing and hope it would give up in a huff. (Bad call on that one. Germs don't like to be ignored, it makes them fractious.) I've meditated, counted my breathes, and watched enough daytime television to truly FEAR anyone who lives in California. At this point I'm having fever dreams of being married to the Prime Geek's evil twin.

I've lost my voice, dropped a few pounds (so hey, it ain't ALL bad), and generally staggered around in a haze scaring my cats as I look like the wrath of not one... but SEVERAL pissed off deities. Diets of frozen juice pops, lemon-lime soda, and soup that is definitely not up to my mother's caliber have been the order of the month. I would kill for the ability to chew, swallow and most importantly keep DOWN a steak cooked just off rare... but instead I am stuck with mush.

I figure I have maybe 2-3 days before I find myself hogtied and tossed into the back of the Jeep while the Prime Geek (who shouldn't be so hasty.... his own hacking has achieved epic levels this month) trundles my nerdly tuckus to the doctors.

I HATE going to the doctor. I really really REALLY hate going to the doctor. Evil overlords with their horrid paper gowns, propensity for jabbing innocent people with needles, and slavish devotion to tossing you onto the scales even if all you are there for is a stupid ear ache! (Seriously. If I have ever had an ear infection that was detectable by a large scale... I probably have issues far more serious then a simple infection.)

So....

Any suggestions? I'm a desperate nerd here. Not only am I just wanting to get better, there is an actual deadline looming over my nerdy head.

Sunday is the Prime Geek and I's first anniversary. If I haven't mentioned it yet, our wedding - while lovely.... was not spent the way we might have wanted. I had walking pneumonia and strep throat - which means antibiotics.... which make birth controls worthless... I'm allergic to latex... do I really need to draw a picture here folks? I would really like to spend my first anniversary curled around my honey NOT a toilet.

Frankly, folks, there's a hot tub weekend at a hotel on the line here.

For Your Last Minute Grave Robbing Needs.....

2008-01-21T12:19:00.000-08:00

The last thing I thought I would be buying this year is a book on how to clean my nest. Momma dear has run her own cleaning business for more then 15 years, and while her uber tidy gene might have gotten a bit watered down in my genetic mess, she has passed on the knowledge of what end it up on the old toilet wand. I may not have her locked on eye for detail, but I can scrub out a bathroom with the best of them. So it came as a surprise to find I had been crouching on the floor of my local mega bookstore for well over 30 minutes reading a cleaning manual without noticing the passage of time OR the cramping in my knees.

Green Clean (by Linda Mason Hunter & Mikki Halpin) has managed to put together a very well presented book on one of the big hot topics of the year. How can we get our homes clean and safe for our loved ones without falling back into the chemical daze of yesterday? For decades we've bleached, sanitized, and sterilized everything we come into contact with. Is there really a way to get things clean without dousing them first in our eye watering, throat burning, skin torturing modern “marvels”?

Yup. Now, I'll confess... a lot of the material in this book is stuff my mom has held true for years. Not everyone out there had the benefit of growing up with a cleaning fiend as my brother and I did. This book breaks everything down into manageable steps, making it perfect for the naturally tidy AND the inherently messy. The authors stress basic items to keep on hand for a myriad of uses, most can be found in one room or the other in almost all our homes. Vinegar, baking soda, borax, and the like are the main components for all the recipes included within its pages. But what is new is both the way it is presented AND the book itself. The dangerous mixes in modern cleaners are explained, giving a blow by blow of what each chemical does and the reasons the authors suggest you trying another way. HOW to clean your home is explained (and no, they don't expect everyone to become Martha), as well as tools that make it easier.

For the mad scientist at heart, there are recipes on making your own cleaners – including several surprises. Window cleaner I expected... but dishwasher detergent? Cool! Now, just to get the Prime Geek to get a move on installing that dishwasher..... For those who prefer shopping therapy to access their green side? New brands are suggested as well as what to keep a look out for when pursuing the label. The truly nerdy side of me was staggered to see they had actually taken the time to put together a recipe for a disinfected called the Vinegar of the Four Thieves*.

All in all, a nifty book to stack on your shelves.

As for why the book itself is cool? Someone actually thought out the main issue with cleaning books. If used in conjunction WITH the cleaning itself the book invariably gets soaked and ruined. Instead, this book is made out of a new synthetic paper that is water proof, spill proof, fade proof. Abuse it all you like, wipe it down and its good to go. As the book itself states “A tool that lasts for years is an eco-friendly tool”.

Very nerdly.

*Fine, fine. I suppose the title of the post requires a tad bit of explaining for the non-history buffs wandering around out there. The Vinegar of the 4 Thieves is based off the elixir a band of marauding thieves used during the time of the Black Death. They soaked rags and clothing with a blend of herbs and vinegar and thus protected they robbed the houses of the dead left open after the plague rolled through town.
Okay... morbid. But still kinda fascinating to this nerd.

Operation Sanitize

2008-01-18T14:44:00.000-08:00

Dragging myself out of the sickroom at last, I was confronted with the dreadful knowledge my home now needed to be purified after my long bout with the death flu. While fire and napalm were my first choices “For those days you wanna make sure its REALLY clean”, the Prime Geek had a slight issue with us firebombing the nest. Something about insurance not covering high explosives, I believe. Luckily, I had kept to two rooms – bedroom and bathroom – so the actual mucking out would be less then I had originally feared.

Whenever I face a large cleaning task I call my mom. She has been running a home cleaning service for well over 15 years (as well as indulging in a bit of personal OCD in our home for far longer), so she is the obvious choice to consult when there is a Herculean task to perform... and you're short of a river to divert. After the usual warnings of not overexerting myself, admonitions over getting ill in the first place and a few offers of soup delivery, we got down to brass tacks and figured out how to return my nest to it old safe self. (IE, slightly messy – but not infectious.)

1- Contain. Anything and everything I touched got tossed into two piles. The first we'll call “Stuff to Chuck.” Kleenex, cans, Popsicle sticks, death bed confessions, etc. All this was shoved into grocery bags, tied up, and tossed into the garbage. Sorry, not even gonna TRY to recycle any of this stuff. The folks who sort through it at the center have enough to deal with WITHOUT my germs swarming them. The rest was laundry bound.

2- Just this once, I've relaxed my hot water ban in the laundry room. Anything on the bed (most importantly my pillow) or worn directly on my person got dumped in the hottest water our old heater can manage, along with half a bottle of peroxide, some laundry soap, and a cup of vinegar. What... you thought I'd crack and use bleach? Sorry, I have cats that are already “special”. The thought of them after a nice bleach tea makes me shudder. Towels and anything that had been laying around in the sickroom got cold water as usual, but I went ahead and used the vinegar and peroxide treatment on these items as well.

3- Spray and Sanitize. Okay, okay. The first few days had the Prime Geek spraying anything I might have touched with Lysol -toilet seats, door knobs, the works. But sanity has returned to us both and the cleanup is running along fine with the far more friendly disinfectant recipe my mother gave me.* At first, it was just all the hard surfaces... but as paranoia began to set it, the soft surfaces got hit as well. At the moment my bedroom smells a bit like a chip shop from all the vinegar, but I at least feel safer.** Don't forget to clean that trashcan next to the bed, the light fixture you kept reaching for, and that handful of pencils your used to pen your dying declarations with.***. Spray it, wipe it, set it out to dry.

4- Somehow, whenever I get sick, the side of my bed becomes infested with every book, magazine, small electronic, crossword puzzle in the house. In short, when I get ill, I cocoon like a caterpillar on a bright spring morning. Time to straighten that out. Even my books get the spray treatment... at least the covers get misted and wiped down. (I try and use enough self restraint to keep my really GOOD hardbacks away from sick hands so I can spare them this trauma. Doesn't always work, but I try.) Magazines get tossed into the recycling if I can bear to part with them.

5- Lastly? New everything. Clean sheets pulled out, the mattress cover gets changed, plump those pillows you had in the washer. Pull the dryer sheet out from between the blankets, fluff up your stuffed animals and set them back on their perches. New liners, pads of papers, heck... make sure you have a clean glass next to your bed if you are the parched type.

Over the top? Maybe. But there is no way I want whatever crawled into my system and died there to come back. Puking til you black out is NOT this nerd's idea of fun. (Must be why I skipped all the keggers in college.)

Bit by bit, I'm using up my old cleaning products (cause frankly, I have no idea how to dispose of corrosive and caustic items safely... and I can't bring myself to just chuck full bottles into the bin) and replacing them with more environmentally friendly options. When I ran out of Windex, in came the grapefruit Method cleaner (Target's new line of green products). When the Tilex spritzed its last, I picked up some 7 Generation cleaner. But while I am finding some excellent products out there for green cleaning... they all have the same downfall. While they may be a green substitute for the harsh chemicals of yesteryear, they cost a heck of a lot more green as well. To that end I have discovered a wonderful new book with a load of ideas I'm taking to heart...

But that's for tomorrow. This nerdling is off to crawl back under her cool clean sheets for a bit.

* Simplicity itself. To disinfect just about any hard surface use 1 cup of vinegar mixed in a spray bottle with 10-15 drops of either lavender, tea tree, or eucalyptus essential oil. Shake like crazy and spray. Safe for everyone, and works as well as the expensive chemical crap.

** What can I say. I prefer early chip shop to late plague.

*** I may have read too many historical novels as a child. When in the grips of illness I tend to imagine myself a pale, wan, brave heroine resigning herself nobly to her grave. This fact may one day be used in commitment hearings. We'll see.

Well, THAT was unpleasant.

2008-01-17T12:35:00.000-08:00

Thanks to all the well-wishers out there that sent emails querying about my possible demise. Nope, the Nerd isn't dead yet... although there were a few days she fervently wished to be. I have to say, in the span of my life thus far, this last bout of flu might rank as possibly the most unpleasant experience of my life. I'm including car accidents, walking pneumonia on my wedding night, a few rounds in the hospital, and a chronic illness in that assessment. However, not all was lost during my bout with Satan's own germ warriors, no no. In the moments where the desire to die would wash back allowing me to briefly see the shore of wellness in the distance I did manage to stick to my green guns and come up with

Natural Nerd's Top Five Ways to Be Green... While Being Green!*

1- Keep it contained. Now is not the time to wander folks. Figure out what room you wish to temporarily die in and stick to it. When it is all over and you have the job of cleaning up afterwards, you don't want to be disinfecting the whole dratted house. Spreading your plague isn't nice, it isn't fair. Give your roommates a chance to save themselves and stay away. (Although I think the Geek making me ring a bell was a bit much.) Get YOUR pillow, YOUR blanket, and stay away form everyone elses. At the end of this, you want to make sure you have gathered everything up you have touched so it can be washed. Forgetting something that later reinfects you might just cause you to lose the will to live. Access to a bathroom is required... unless you are willing to do what I did in...

2- Think outside of the box. Yes. You have a bathroom. Nothing says you have to use it. While on one hand all those hard slick surfaces are easy to wipe down with bleach (napalm, high explosives, whatever gets the place clean), all those hard surfaces mean harder places to thunk yourself upon when you fall to your knees and pray for the sweet release of death. You're already sick, avoiding a concussion is a good thing. I ultimately decided our camp toilet was my new best friend. Sits even with the height of the bed for ease of puking, and nary a strain to roll over and use when your backside decides it wants its turn to join in the fun. Gross? Yes. Handy? You betcha. This also means every scrap of your illness can be safely contained and tossed.

3- While I don't expect you to go shopping in your weakened condition, plan ahead for the next time and purchase a few sippy cups. Yes, I mean those cups kids use with the spout to suck from. The sheer amount of liquid you need to ingest to try and maintain some sort of fluid balance in your body is astonishing (dried brains are no ones friend.) and trying to drink from a regular glass is just gonna get you wet. Tons of soda cans = environmental badness. Sippy cups mean one glass to disinfect, one glass to keep track of, and hey – in true moments of weakness you can still drink without raising your head above your pillow.

4- Without question, when we're sick we reach for the tissues. Time to break that habit. For that next bout of sickness, invest in making yourself a nice BIG stack of handkerchiefs. Not only are you going to save loads of paper, your nose will thank you. On one hand, yes. The thought of a pile of snotty clothes to wash isn't a pleasant one (which is why I follow the “shove it into a grocery bag – hey look! They DO have a use in the home!- and tie it off for later” mentality. Once I'm better I can just dump them all into the washer without touching them and disinfect from a safe distance.) but in the long run you'll thank yourself. Having those stray little germ bombs floating around your home is never a good idea. And let's not kid ourselves... we all know that we'll miss a few in the cleanup and come face to face with them a month later. At that point... is it yours? His? A guests? Ewwwwwww. If they are homemade, you'll know how many to look for and can track down the stragglers. Flannel cotton is cheap -I can often get it on sale for as little as $2 a yard – and that makes a TON of handkerchiefs. Its also easy to clean afterwards. Plain is fine, or you can always get fancy. If the thought of seeing cartoon cats will momentarily cheer you up while in the grips of the flu – go for it. If you're of a more vindictive nature... perhaps picking up your favorite teams rival fabric. Nothing like blowing your nose on Michigan state symbols when you hail from Ohio. (Or vice versa. Gotta be safe here... big brother married a gal from Michigan. We try to ignore that in our family, everyone has flaws they cannot help.)

5- If it is possible...... GET THE FREAKEN FLU SHOT!!!!!!! Sadly, my nerdly tuckus is highly allergic to eggs, therefore I cannot get the shot. That being said... I don't care if you don't like needles (if my 5 year old niece can handle it without a whimper, I don't wanna hear you whine.), don't care if you don't think its necessary. Get it for the people around you, get it so you're family doesn't have to draw straws over taking care of you. Get it just so you don't have to risk (the weak of stomach may wish to jump to the end here) projectile vomiting and explosive diarrhea. At the same time. Simultaneously. At once. Together. This is not a drill.... trust me. Get the shot. Not getting sick in the first place is the greenest idea of all.

Tomorrow? My five step plan for erasing my home from the plague lists. Until them? I have some slightly flat soda to drink and a container of turkey noodle soup from my mother to thaw.

*Ya'll should have figured out by now that if I am corny and overly dramtic at my physical best... it's gonna get a LOT worse when sick. At least I haven't sunk to puns. Yet.

As the Bowl Flushes

2008-01-09T20:08:00.000-08:00

It seems the bullet train through Hades has chosen to enforce a new 24-hour layover in Tartarus before allowing anyone to exit the ride.

Hopefully, tomorrow I can post without fear of be-fouling my laptop with substances best left unmentioned.

(You know, when I said I wanted to be more green... I didn't mean in complexion.)

Yurph.

2008-01-08T04:41:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm posting this kinda early today for a couple of reasons. One... the review is getting pushed to tomorrow as I in the midst of being very very completely sick and the thought of concentrating my thoughts and writing abilities on a food substance is not... a wise idea. The second reason? Basically, I'm burning time as the dimension door that has opened up in my lower intestine is determining whether or not it is going to make the trip back home to order more soul destroying bile to dump on me. Not quite at the point where I feel safe trying to go back to sleep, but hopeful that simple physics are on my side at last. As of right now, I do believe my brain has dried out (there is a weird rattling sound when I blow my nose, leading me to believe it has shriveled) and last time I looked down my toe nails have visibly retracted into my body. I've eaten twice in three days... there can't possibly be anything left to exit.

Right?

(Whimper)

I'm actually pretty fortunate really. The whole concept of a 24 or 48 hour flu is foreign to me. I usually get the 3 or 4 hour bullet train through the rougher side of hell as my body powers through whatever is preying upon it, then its a day or so of being weaker then a newborn kitten. No all day ordeals of hoping to die as you get wracked by a few million germs. Heck, I'm even pretty self-sufficient when I get sick. Enough warning is given to set up the trashcan next to the bed (with liner), insure there is a plentiful amount of toilet paper in the bathroom, and to place my order for coke to wait outside the door. The laptop gets shoved somewhere safe and a bottle of fizzy water waits patiently on the window sill next to the bed. I don't want checked on, I hate being fussed over (it usually just makes the headache worse), and I even have time to make sure my hair is tied back for minimum ick factor in the cleanup after.

These... are all very good things. For something else I have learned this night. The Prime Geek, while he loves me... is not a great nurse. Sympathy puking and a firm “If you love me, don't ever ask me to throw that away again.” when handed a sealed trash liner holding what appeared to be my 4th grade lunch.

The next time I get sick, I'm sure he'll handle it better.

Actually, I'm sure he'll hire someone nice to handle it better while he waits it out in a hotel room.

Blargh.

New Year's Addendum

2008-01-07T15:03:00.000-08:00

I had made plans to start the week off on a slightly different footing, but Kethry (check out her site over in the side bar- Urbania to Stoneheads... well worth the read) made a good point in the comments from my list and I instead have decided to address those and move my plans for today to tomorrow. (Might have a small amount to do with both the Prime Geek and myself battling a stomach bug at the moment... I am incredibly grateful my father finished the install on our bathroom. A flushie is a vital piece of modern life.)

When I stated that one of the goals for the year was to put up as much food as I can, I should have gone on to say we will be tip-toeing into multiple aspects of the make it at home world as well. Yogurt is first up on the block, although I'll be finishing off what is currently lingering in the fridge first. But once the cartons are gone (properly recycled, of course) I'm going to give this ancient art of spoiling dairy a shot. The PG and I are planning to follow in food Guru Alton Brown's step and rig up a makeshift yogurt maker at first. If all goes well, and we like it better then the store bought stuff it will be one of the first items to remove from the grocery list. I may even be temped to buy one of those nifty gadgets that lets you make 8 individual servings at a time. (the fewer times you can cut into yogurt the better, unless you really like yogurt flavored soup.)

Brewing at home? Already to start production in fact. I bought the Prime Geek a mead kit for his birthday (thus establishing me in the eyes of many of his male friends as the coolest wife ever.) and h hopes to start putting a couple of bottle down each month. Me? I may just try my hand at a few cordials, as there are fewer things that can cool a heated brain faster then an iced spritzer of blueberry cordial and seltzer. Although Kethry's mention of ginger beer does make my mind buzz a bit in planning.

Breadmaking? Already done... I just have to get better at keeping up on it. We suffer from two issues in the maintaining the staff of life in the house. One is the common one which seems to strike most bread bakers. We tend to not eat a few slices as we do with the store bought fluff... instead the smell of fresh bread baking drags us back to our cave nerd roots and we end up devouring it in a single sitting. The second is easier to handle, it just will require I use some (gulp) discipline and start my dough off before I head to bed. The spirit is there... but the flesh tends to get scattered. Looks like I have some sign making in my future.

The only thing I think I will be giving a pass to is butter making. With milk prices on the rise (I've seen it on sale as low as $2.88 a gallon at our neighborhood drive-through liquor store with spikes up to $5.99 at the grocery. Toss in the price for organic is often as high as a soul shuddering $8.99) we tend to only buy milk to drink. I buy butter only rarely... and freeze it whenever it goes on sale. At the moment, I tend to cook with olive oil most of the time. Perhaps when we sell our home and get to move out into the country I'll take a look at this again.

Any advice, suggestions, or info is happily taken. I'm enough of a nerd to confess a certain joy in studying. Weird, I know... but what's a nerd to do?

Tomorrow? The first Naturally Nerds product review.

Drumroll Please

2008-01-04T16:03:00.000-08:00

Now, I personally have quite a list of resolutions this year. I also have a rather good track record with my resolutions. So far, in the last 20 years of making them, I have a little better then a 75% record of meeting my goals. This might have more to do with the fact my resolutions tend towards the highly attainable and desperately desired more then the guilty conscious driven “I really want a few weeks of feeling virtuous before falling back into my old ways” resolutions that seem to be the fad. If it makes the list, its because I have already started the planning to make it work. Seems a bit of a cheat... but what the heck. Most of those resolutions aren't going to make it onto the site as they are of the personal variety but I do have plans/resolutions for the site, so I figure it counts.

With no further ado....

New Years Resolutions for 2008 for Naturally Nerds and my reach for the Green

1) As of Monday, Naturally Nerds is becoming a 6 days a week updated blog. Some of the new features that will be appearing are environmentally friendly (and those that join the evil-doers list) product reviews, reuse/remake projects for around the house to skip that trip to the store, and a once a week guest spot from the Prime Geek covering some of the tec-tricks the greening geek can embrace.

2) This year the Prime Geek and myself are trying a rather ambitious project or two. The first is garden-centric. We'll be planning and planting 4 separate gardens -backyard, container, a larger one in the back of his families land, and finally we're stepping into the world of hydroponics. All in our attempts to reach

3) A biggie for us at the Nerdly Nest – with all the concerns and terror pieces in the news regarding the dangers inherent in our food supply, we are going to be attempting to grow at least 50% (or more) of our veggies. Anything we can't buy will be sourced locally and put up for the winter. We'll be canning, freezing, and drying as much as we can to reach our goal in

4) By the end of the fall, I want to be in a position of only having to purchase fresh items (milk, eggs, etc), meats, non-local items (oil, spices, etc) and grains. Hopefully I can slash my grocery budget by at least half of the $45 we spend a week now. We'll see how that goes.

5) To help us reach that goal we need more compost and better soil. The little composter we made was a start, but this nerd will be expanding her decaying deeds and upping her rubbish reuse. How? I'm eyeing the plans for a little farm of my own, just me and my couple of hundred wormy friends. Toss in a few more composter plans... and we'll have soil good enough to eat from, if not off.

6) I'm reinstating a goal from last year. No new clothing purchases for the next year for this nerd. The only exceptions will be underwear and shoes. Anything that is needed will be either made or sourced out at thrift shops. Heck, I'm a seamstress. This one should be cake.

7) Both the PG and myself need to get better at our trash output. To this end we are aiming for the goal of only placing our trash bin (the large green jobbie handed out by the city) once a month. The recycling bin can be used weekly, but we need to cut down on our waste. We have several plans in the works to reach this... we'll see how we do.

8) I have a confession to make... the whole complete avoidance of plastic grocery bags? Hasn't worked out so well. I still seem to have them copulating like spring fever fueled bunnies in my cupboards. For every time I bring my own... there is a time where when my back is turned the well meaning high schooler double bags me “just to be safe”. To that end, I have four new net knit bags on my needles, and a new fervor filling my soul. No more looking away, no more being quiet when I get ignored the first bag. A plastic bag avoiding banshee I will be!

9) Now this... this is a scary one for this nerd. A few years ago my well meaning husband bought me a scooter. A nice little green frog of a ride (seriously folks. Its bright green and the headlight configuration looks like Kermit!) and I have dragged my feet about getting my motorcycle license. I had my permit, but I let it lapse... something to do with the first time I rode it I rolled it. Right in front of a minivan. Yeah. Not fun. But it requires only a few gallons in the tank every OTHER week, so the responsible thing to do is use it around town for my errands. The small fact we are down to one vehicle at the time also plays a small part in this.

10) I love to give presents. I get this from my mother. Christmas and birthdays, weddings and “just cause”. I usually have to buy two or three times, as I always crack and give the first gift LONG before the day. This year? If I give it, its gonna be handmade or a book. That's it. Nothing else. Sorry. Hope you like it, cause it can't be exchanged. Here's hoping people are fine with this one.

Got any other suggestions for me? There are quite a few other plans in the works, but these are most of the big goals I'm aiming to hit. How are YOU planning on greening up your year?

Happy New Year.... A Tad Bit Late

2008-01-03T07:54:00.000-08:00

Welcome to 2008. Please wipe your feet before straying too far into the new year, as its far too early to muck it up already. Now, a few of you sent me some email showing concern over the lack of posting for the last two days... the thoughts seeming to be that the Prime Geek and myself must have really tied one on at the stroke of midnight to delay postings two days.

Sad to say, but I do believe we are getting old. No wild parties boogieing down the moments to the New Year, no excessive drinking, no orgies. (Drat.) A glass of champagne each, a kiss... and asleep by 12:45. Yup, we rocked the New Year in with Dick Clark1, four anxious cats – our city, like many, set of fireworks. Now... our cats need Xanax. What's a nerd to do? - a roaring fire, and each other. Not too exciting, I'll confess. But last New Year's was an stomach churning, last minute prepping, wedding planning monster – so calm and cuddles was a nice step up.

No, the delay can be laid at the feet of bathroom reconstruction (we have ONE flushie. So when it is out of commission we are given the options of : gas stations, neighbors, parents 2 miles away, the tree in the back yard – ALL the Prime Geek – or our camp toilet placed in the office.), wood management, and the Prime Geek being STILL sick.2

However – the bathroom is in working order3 (photos to come Saturday), wood has been obtained and stacked, and the Prime Geek is at work (therefore not my problem at the moment.). The delay has allowed me to work a bit more on my resolutions and plans, and we should be back up and running free now.

I'm excited. How Nerdy is that? I understand that the celebration of the New Year on January 1st is actually pretty arbitrary. A day on a calendar shouldn't mean a total upheaval. But.... allow me my fun. I think some of the plans are gonna cause others to embrace their nerdly side.

The big reveal in the morning. I have to go stoke the fire... its all of 8° here.

1On one hand, God bless the man. On the other? It was more then a tad bit painful to watch the “eternal teenager” struggle so. Sorta the skeleton at the feast type of thing.
2Torn between concern, annoyance at refusals to go to the doctor, and dashed hopes of.... married activity. Ahhh, the joys of marriage no one mentions before you exchange vows.
3Not finished, there is still a back corner to tile. But the toilet flushes, there is a working sink, and I can take a bath. Happiness is a flushing toilet and a hot soak.

New Year's Eve

2007-12-31T18:51:00.000-08:00

Well folks, its almost here. In just a few hours that giant ball will drop and we'll slide on into the new year. Have you made any resolutions? Any big changes or challenges ahead of you in 2008? What are you going to do to make this new year a greener/better one? Any plans? Any ambitions? Or are you planning to keep your head down and ignore the changing of the calendar?

It may seem trite, and perhaps it is... but I do tend toward sitting down on New Year's day and evaluating my plans for the year ahead. Silly, but I have some big plans for the year – both for Naturally Nerds and my own personal life. In the afternoon, I'll share some of the plans with you folks.

Until then? Pop some champagne or chill a bottle of fizzy grape juice and celebrate. We've made it through another year, and in spite of the doom sayers and gloomy gusses we haven't blown ourselves up or completely melted the icecaps this year. Here's to hoping we make this coming year even better.

Off to insure the bubbly is properly chilled, then its a quiet night with the Prime Geek waiting for the ball to fall.

Rules of Burning

2007-12-30T19:00:00.000-08:00

As the demo and reconstruction of our ablution chamber continues apace above me, I decided to take a few moments this cold Sunday and share a few helpful tips and rules that the kindly people at the wood burner factory neglected to mention in their brochures. The inclusion of these facts would no doubt result in a definite decline in burns, singes, inhaled soot, and various other “issues”. But, as the Prime Geek and I have finally determined – these companies MUST be in bed with the burn cream, fan, and hairdressing suppliers in the country and are trying to force us to use them.

1) When doing ANYTHING that involves opening the door of the wood burner while there is a fire within (ie – adding more wood, stoking the fire, poking logs to make them spark, and generally just messing about), the first step is in fact walking away and procuring a hair tie. Both the Prime Geek and myself have rather long hair, and while the initial jerk and recoil when sparks begin to swirl around your head may be considered energizing.... if one wants to KEEP long hair, its just best to tie it back. Burned hair smells revolting. Trust me on this.

2) Childish though it may be..... chainsaws are kinda cool. We're attempting to keep to our greening ways and have purchased an electric chainsaw so as to not pollute the air with billows of gas smoke. No doubt the initial thrill will one day soon fade, but as someone who was never allowed to work with the boys and use most power tools – this is just nifty. Took ever ounce of self control to not let out a grunt ala' Tim Allen.

3)Use fire gloves. Every time. Seriously. Yes, I know. You're only going to move the log you just set down, it hasn't even lit yet. However, having your hands on a potion of wood just as it decides to ignite? Not fun.

4) For the girls out there – Give up on your nails. Just go ahead and cut them down to almost nothing. Even the smallest millimeter past the tip our your finger can be grabbed and ripped in an instant. I have been paid back a million times for ever rolling my eyes at girls who cursed breaking a fake nail. Ripped across the nail bed and jammed back into the side of your hand? Might be a tiny injury, but it will make you curse like a sailor and temporarily loose the ability to think coherently.

5) Guys? Please keep in mind where the door opens in relationship to certain.... private areas. Singeing these will not get you much sympathy, in fact it is far more likely your loving wife/girlfriend/partner will be rolling on the floor giggling too hard to offer much help. Just a warning.

6) Serious perk that should be in every brochure? Imagine never again having a pause between the thought “You know, I could go for some hot cocoa right about now.” and being able to pour out the boiling water. Sounds like a little thing, but after coming in from -10 windchill and knowing you are always able to warm up at once - inside and out – life seems far more chipper.

7) My father calls it Amish Television... but seriously, there is something wonderfully soothing about sitting back and watching the flames dance. Heck, it entertains the cats as well!

Oops! I hear the clarion call of the bathroom brigade. Off to see if there is anything that flushes in the bathroom. Until tomorrow.