I want to see the new Alice movie.
It looks like it takes delicious liberties with the original text and would make all the purists squawk and flap desperately.
Hee hee hee.
I've been walking on the treadmill again, which has been helping me with the sleeping and the moods and the weight - a little. I also ordered the Zumba DVD set which comes with a set of shakers. My husband also cleared out the basement -- at his own prompting -- to make a gym for me. And he also suggested that I have liposuction done in Costa Rica if I wanted it badly enough.
This is actually not because he dislikes me as I am, but because he is tired of my self loathing.
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| Date: | 2010-02-21 15:39 |
| Subject: | Lamb Stew |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | accomplished |
First, I sauteed some garlic and scallions in some olive oil. They smelled delicious.
Then, I added the cubed lamb. Adding lamb to garlic and scallions is one of those things that people really should fall in love with you for more often.
I chose a little Greek Seasoning from Penzey's Spice. I dealt that out with a generous hand, seeing as I was about to add all kinds of things and the flavor would become dilute.
Once the pan had a nice bit of darkened juice on the bottom, I added a quart of chicken broth and a quart of water. Salt and pepper followed.
As I let that simmer, I cut up yuca. Now, this is not an activity for delicate, flowerlike females. This is a task for the strapping and the hardy. Yuca has this kind of rope-a-dope quality where it will lie passively against the cutting board and let you make pointless swipes at it until you're way too tired, and then it will drop itself on your foot and so deprive you of all hope. I did eventually see past this, and got the stuff chopped and into the pot. By this time the kitchen was a sauna of rich warm smells.
I went away for a while and left the stew to its own devices.
Then I came back and threw in some baby carrots.
When I ate it today over rice, it wa everything I hoped it would be. Savory, rich, just salty enough, and with meat and yuca and carrots that yielded to the tongue.
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I have been using the services of an acupuncturist for three cycles now, and I keep feeling better.
She believes that my hormones are becoming more balanced, and that my elements are approaching a state of balance.
I wonder whether getting things in balance and finding a way to cope with stress would really make a baby more possible?
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So I work with a 10 year old girl. I thought I did a good job and that I'm helping.
Turns out, I have upset her beyond anything. I simply told her to take an ISEE, which is a nice little test that actually is a good preparation for later SAT's, and the mother says I told her that the SSAT was a bad test. Then the mom says that the child's dream school is Kent Place, which only takes the SSAT. And now, supposedly, the child is afraid she won't get in because the SSAT is so horrible and she can't do it.
Did I say that? Did I really hurt a child by saying, "On the ISEE, you can guess and get something wrong without a penalty. There are other tests where you can't get something wrong without a penalty." Was that causing harm?
If a mom can make this decision, how far away is someone from deciding I abused or molested a child?
How can I be capable of so much harm when I mean only to help and do good? I decided to focus on tutoring so that I could help, really help, and see the good happen. Well, not a lot of good is happening, and a whole lot of failure is happening.
I don't want to work with children any more.
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Psyche.
I saw it.
My husband has the uncanny ability that many people who do not read novels have -- he can spot plot holes.
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| Date: | 2009-07-12 18:43 |
| Subject: | We're jammin' |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | accomplished JAM |
Yesterday I took all my picked fruit and worked with it.
First I dealt with the cherries I purchased at the farmer's market. I have about four cups of jam and two cups of cherry sugar syrup. I also discovered a method of testing gelled-ness. You put a plate in the freezer, Once the plate is good and cold, you put a teaspoon of your product onto it, and then you put that mess into the freezer. After a minute or so, you drag your finger through the puddle of product. If it nudges up, it's jam yet.
So the cherry is a little liquid. I can fix that later if I really want to.
Then I did the raspberry jam and syrup. That all came out fine. I think the syrup reduces in the bottle. The strawberry level dipped.
I also found some berries frozen in the fridge. So those are now "mixed berry jam".
Then I worked the blueberry. I didn't finish the syrup until today.
Yesterday I also picked the stems off the gooseberries.
Today, the gooseberries became six little half-cup jars of jam. They look so pretty. Then the currants became six little half-cup jars of jelly. They look even prettier.
I feel like I have accomplished something.
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So I'm mowing the front lawn with the gas mower. It ran out of gas, but that wasn't the weird thing.
This little robin red-breast was bob-bob-bobbin' along and WATCHING me. Just watching. Stayed about three feet away from me. Usually, you get closer and they fly away, but this one didn't. Just bounced around and cheeped at me. Watching me mow the lawn.
Didn't actually leave when I was done mowing, either.
My dad would have done the same thing.
Crazy? Wouldn't be the first time.
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| Date: | 2009-06-20 14:51 |
| Subject: | Yeasty goodness |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | craftastically accomplished |
Yesterday I made bread.
First two loaves:
2 cups of milk 1/4 cup sugar 1 tsp salt 1/4 cup butter 2 cups white wheat flour 3 cups white bread flour
Loaves came out soft and somewhat dense, with a soft crust and only a little "roll gap" on the top.
Second two loaves:
2 cups of milk 1/4 cup sugar 1 tsp salt 1/4 cup butter 2 cups white wheat flour 4 cups white bread flour
These loaves have a funny shape. I do not know how they are on the inside.
Monkey loaves:
2 cups milk 1/4 cup sugar 1 tsp salt 1/4 cup butter 1 cup white wheat flour 5 cups white bread flour 1 pint apple conserve
I rolled lumps of dough in the conserve. There is one big loaf, which looks nice, and four mini loaves, which are soft and light. Taste yummy. Three loaves are frozen and one loaf being slowly consumed. I think it's better to eat our own baked bread here than to buy bread and eat that. It goes great with my strawberry jam.
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The first batch was
8 cups strawberries 4 cups sugar juice of one lemon
I think this batch was runny. Prediction is that I will have to "save" it at some point.
Next batch:
4 cups strawberries 4 cups sugar juice of one lemon
This batch cooked longer and I think will be thicker and gell better.
Next batch:
4 cups strawberries 3 cups sugar juice AND zest of one lemon.
this cooked longer yet, and right down to three cups rather than four. Smelled wonderful.
Then, the strawberry syrup:
Juice of four cups of strawberries, about 2 1/2 cups water to make up 4 cups of liquid 4 cups of sugar juice and zest of one lemon
Brought to a boil and let boil for four minutes. Then bottled in a hot bottle purchased yesterday from The container store.
And that's what ten pounds of fruit gets you.
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My husband has put his foot down. He has announced to me that I must write a book. He is counting on it for his retirement.
Annie Dillard once wrote that the freedom of writing lies in the fact that no one cares whether you finish your book or not. If it doesn't get finished, you're the only one who cares.
Well, now that isn't true for me, It needs to be written.
Best get banging.
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Nelson died yesterday. We were expecting it. He had a spreading cancer.
His daughter July Andrea had just left on a long trip to Europe. Her company took her. At just about the same time as her flight took off, Nelson departed on his journey.
I think part of being Latino is timing your illnesses and deaths so that they have maximum irony.
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| Date: | 2009-04-25 17:18 |
| Subject: | Note |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | dorky |
Empanadas do not freeze well in their uncooked state.
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Realizing that I have disliked working at Estelle's for years, I nevertheless do not much like being replaced.
She has hired two new verbal tutors, and now has begun riding Sue to give them students. This while I still have very few hours filled.
So there is my push out the door.
I hope I fall somewhere soft.
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Tia Beti died. Mi suegra's sister.
I'm glad we didn't bring Zulay here after all. Her sister needed her.
No one knew what was wrong with Beti, but we knew she was sick. She was still very cheerful and active when last I saw her. It must have been a swift decline at the end.
I dreamed about my father last night.
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10. Pastries are bland 9. Rice and beans get old 8. The ants bite 7. Every piece of land is for sale 6. Every bit of hot spring has been "bottled" 5. Eco-friendly hotels are smug 4. People mistreat animals 3. People assume I am deaf and mute and yell at me really fast in Spanish 2. I cannot make any decisions for myself 1. My house doesn't have anything in it
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10. Cheese from the farmer's market 9. The hills of Guanacaste 8. You can fart in the car and ALWAYS blame it on a cow 7. Concrete houses with tile floors are always the right temperature 6. Showerheads that heat the water are always the right temperature 5. Dairy products in general 4. Deutsche Backerei 3. Alternative power is eco friendly and beautiful 2. I eat less and lose weight 1. My step-daughter
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A doctor told me on Wednesday that it seemed fairly clear to him that the chemotherapy must have affected my ovaries.
I cried. That is not fair. No one told me that my chemo would hurt me that way.
But it is a relief to be told, yes, indeed, it was not your imagination. Things were not the same after your chemo. Your pain, and your hair going gray, and your dryness and lack of desire were not imagined. The chemo affected you.
Now please, Estimado Doctor Perez, hace algun para me, por favor.
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When I went into the IVF center one the occasion of my last period, the nurse Jen said, "We're not going to do any treatments this cycle. Hey, maybe your February period will be your last one until you decide to stop breast feeding.
Ï don't have much hope any more. It's like Charlie, wishing for his golden ticket, having nothing to help him but sheer dumb luck.
Is it this one? Let it be this one. I can't afford much more of this.
This month, I'm injecting myself with something called Gonal-F, which promises to produce lots of eggs. Then in two weeks when I get my IUI, there is slighly more hope that one egg will meet up with one likely sperm and...
but it's more likely that nothing will happen.
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| Date: | 2009-02-01 17:59 |
| Subject: | Musings |
| Security: | Public |
| Mood: | contemplative |
I have suddenly realized that I do not really want to leave Edison, much though I do want to help out my mother and incidentally save a bit of money.
I like my Wegmans and my A&P, and I love the Menlo Park and Woodbridge Malls. My neighbors around here are very nice, kind people who will help you out if you need help. We get hordes of trick-or-treaters and kids play on their skateboards in the street . The schools are excellent and the park facilities are beautiful and plentiful. I love my doctor and the town government.
If you asked me "well, then, what do you want, you silly child?" I would have to say, "I want my mother to dump that old mausoleum she has now and I want her to come with me and buy a mother-daughter setup in North Edison and enjoy the culture around here." I really think that after a short time she would adjust and be very happy here.
So, should I tell her all this?
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A brazilian model got a UTI, which became a kidney infection, which led to her losing her hands and feet, which led to her death.
This news would come the day I feel a UTI coming on.
The thing is, I smell nothing from myself. Usually I would smell something bad.
Currently, drinking lots of tea and wondering whether I should go to one of those clinics or wait until Monday and call my dear Dr. Boyd, who I am going to miss way up there in Ridgewood.
Either way, I've done this before. I was in the hospital on 9/11 because I had let a UTI go too far.
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