Although we have most of September until fall is officially upon us, a lot of my fellow food bloggers have been lamenting the "end of summer" with seasonal recipes that take advantage of our gardens' last hurrah of produce.
Although I always love to see these recipes and this commentary - this year has me scratching my head. Where the hell did this year go? Oh wait - I was pregnant for the majority of this year. While my contemporaries have been plotting out how to use the last of the tomatoes of summer, I've been trying to decode my newborn ... I mean - my one-month-old son. Where did the past month go?
Anyway - one of the "projects" on my to-do list that got shuffled to the wayside while waiting for my little bean was a review of J.T. Ellison's "A Deeper Darkness."
Full confession - Ms. Ellison sent me a copy of her book to review ... oh - a few months ago. And I finished reading the book and writing the review ... a few months ago. But I'm just getting to publishing my review now. Sigh.
J.T. Ellison first came on the literary scene in 2007 with "All the Pretty Girls," a novel that introduced the reading world to Lt. Taylor Jackson, a tough cookie of a homicide detective located in Nashville, Tennessee. As the narrative into Jackson's world increased, readers have been introduced to recurring characters like John Baldwin, Jackson's love interest, and Jackson's childhood friend Dr. Sam Owens, a medical examiner.
In "A Deeper Darkness" (released this April by Mira books, a Harlequin imprint), Dr. Owens takes center stage, a couple of years after a devastating flood decimates her entire world. To cope with the loss of her family, Sam has buried herself into her work - building a fragile, yet failing, refuge that is shattered when she gets a phone call from the mother of an old flame. Eddie Donovan, her first love, has been murdered - will Sam perform a secondary autopsy?
The storyline that follows establishes Ellison's prowess as a storyteller who infuses her stories and characters with a mind boggling amount of realism and research. The questions the reader encounters are plausible: If Eddie Donovan was killed by a car jacker, what were the circumstances leading up to his murder? How are subsequent murders investigated by DC Homicide Detective Darren Fletcher related? The case uncovered unwittingly by Sam Owens leads her back to the past - a seemingly cut and dried friendly fire incident in Afghanistan that returned Eddie Donovan to the U.S. a changed man.
A reader does not need to be familiar with the world of Taylor Jackson to pick up "A Deeper Darkness." That is part of Ellison's genius as a writer - Sam Owens emerges as a fully formed character worthy of her own series of books (which Ellison is working on). "Darkness" is a tautly told thriller that keeps a reader hooked until the final, heartbreaking chapter that holds the key to Sam's guilt regarding the death of her family members.
Although the bloggers say that summer has ended - I say pshaw ... this is a perfect summer read. And if you're like me and have a one-month-old (and a cat) vying for your attention, this book will hold until the crisp fall nights fall upon us. And even better? Ms. Ellison is currently giving away two copies of "Darkness" at her website. Visit Ms. Ellison's website for details and good luck!
Because life is just the break between meals.
Showing posts with label Commentary. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Commentary. Show all posts
Monday, September 10, 2012
Tuesday, June 19, 2012
Putting my money where my mouth is ...
Thirty-five dials. Five conversations. Three refusals. One yes. One person "moved."
I spent this evening on a phone bank for the Rochester arm of Minnesotans United for All Families, talking to people about the constitutional amendment that's on the ballot in November. The language of this ballot would be to define marriage in the Minnesota constitution as strictly between one man and one woman.
I have pretty strong opinions about this amendment and am emphatic in my efforts to encourage people to vote "NO" for this amendment.
However, there comes a time when words aren't enough. I have the wonderful problem of surrounding myself with like-minded people. And since I work from home, my sphere of influence is limited.
That's why I found myself on a phone bank tonight. That's why I found myself reading off of a script and trying to start conversations with people across southeastern Minnesota about marriage and why it's important to me as a straight, married, pregnant lady that my son will grow up in a state that will be the first of 30 states to defeat this amendment.
For someone who hates talking on the phone - this night was tough. There was the very sweet lady who is a member of the ELCA and has been torn by the conversations in the church. She'll vote for the amendment, but recognizes that times will change regardless. She wished me well on the remainder of my pregnancy.
There was the sarcastic man who talked about how gross and wrong it was for two men or two women to be married. I thanked him for his time and hung up.
There was one woman who will vote "no" on the marriage amendment, but she really didn't have strong feelings about gay marriage. (But hey - "no" is AWESOME in this election.)
And then there was the guy who kinda broke my heart. The conversation started out as the man being 100% for this amendment, 100% against gay marriage. Gay marriage is a travesty and it goes against God and the Bible.
I was ready to wrap up the call politely and hang up, but I tried another tact that we had discussed in training.
"We're not voting on the Bible," I said. I explained that I'm secular and that at the end of the day, I cannot debate about morals, God, Bible, whatever.
"Do you know anyone who is gay?"
"Yes," he said. "My nephew. And it breaks my sister's heart. It breaks the father's heart." But then he starts telling me about his nephew. His nephew's partner that's "a great guy."
I told this man about my nephews - I told him about one in particular. The 16-year-old nephew who was technically my "first" nephew from my brother's first marriage. And although this boy is taller than me, although he's driving and although he's a star on the basketball court, I still look at him and I can see him as a three-year-old. And how that drives my nephew absolutely nuts. But the love that I feel for this kid who is more like a brother to me than anything else.
My nephew is not gay, but my point was made: "If someone told me that there was some law that stood between my nephew and his happiness, I can't fathom that," I said.
Here's how the script ends on these phone conversations ... "now that we've had this conversation, if you had to vote tomorrow, would you vote yes for the marriage amendment or would you vote no."
This man did not know. It was something he had to think more about.
*~*~*~*~
There are no clear, decisive victories in phone banks. I'm not going to call up someone who is morally opposed to gay marriage and expect them to be won over by my dulcet tones and my stunning logic. It does not work that way. And as I've struggled with the perception of gay marriage and how it keeps playing out in the political arena, I've made peace with the fact that there are some people that will never see my point of view. It sucks. It's frustrating. I can curse, I can gnash my teeth and rave at my husband (yes, all of these things have happened), but at the end of the day - I have to pick myself up, brush myself off, and move on.
But there are little victories. There are people who might change their mind because of something that is said. The ability to take gay marriage out of the abstract and make it real.
Sometimes we are the uncles of gay men. Sometimes there are people that we work with, that we worship with, that we went to school with ...
*~*~*~*~*~
So - considering that I'm 34 weeks pregnant, extremely uncomfortable, and that I truly hate making phone calls - why in the name of hell would I volunteer for this? And why would I do it again?
Thirty states around the country have had similar marriage amendments go on their ballots. Thirty states have passed these amendments. Minnesota has the opportunity to be the first state to defeat the marriage amendment and all signs show that this is going to be a close and emotional election.
I want to wake up on November 7th and find out that the marriage amendment failed miserably. But in the event that it does pass (and I give serious thought about emigrating to Canada), I want to know in my heart that I did everything I could to help defeat this amendment.
Working a phone bank took me way out of my comfort zone. I found myself getting strength by listening to this older gentleman named Bob make phone calls across the room from me. There was something about his raspy voice that made me feel like I wasn't alone and encouraged me to keep dialing.
This evening was a challenge, but it was a privilege.
So - my Rochester area friends who read my blog. Working a phone bank? Yeah - it's a time commitment and yeah, it's kind of terrifying. But the Rochester group does a GREAT job training you to work the phones. We spent an hour talking about the marriage amendment, some of the opposing viewpoints that are encountered, the importance of being kind to yourself when it came to tough phone calls ... the importance of having conversations with people regarding this issue. While I wasn't 100% prepared for my first phone call and while I have yet to hit my stride, I felt reasonably confident as I made my way down the list of calls I needed to make.
Whether it's phone calling, door knocking, donating money, or just having the conversation with friends - I implore people to get involved. This is going to be a close election. See my numbers above - the majority of the people I talked to were for the marriage amendment. A couple people hadn't really heard about it. Out of 35 dials, I might have changed the mind of one voter - or at least got him on the road to thinking about the issue on a personal level beyond the abstract.
You can find information about Minnesotans United for All Families here.
As I said tonight on Facebook: "We can move towards inclusion, tolerance, and love one conversation at a time, friends ..." Until this baby shows up, I'll work the phone banks again ... I do believe that I can make a difference.
I spent this evening on a phone bank for the Rochester arm of Minnesotans United for All Families, talking to people about the constitutional amendment that's on the ballot in November. The language of this ballot would be to define marriage in the Minnesota constitution as strictly between one man and one woman.
I have pretty strong opinions about this amendment and am emphatic in my efforts to encourage people to vote "NO" for this amendment.
However, there comes a time when words aren't enough. I have the wonderful problem of surrounding myself with like-minded people. And since I work from home, my sphere of influence is limited.
That's why I found myself on a phone bank tonight. That's why I found myself reading off of a script and trying to start conversations with people across southeastern Minnesota about marriage and why it's important to me as a straight, married, pregnant lady that my son will grow up in a state that will be the first of 30 states to defeat this amendment.
For someone who hates talking on the phone - this night was tough. There was the very sweet lady who is a member of the ELCA and has been torn by the conversations in the church. She'll vote for the amendment, but recognizes that times will change regardless. She wished me well on the remainder of my pregnancy.
There was the sarcastic man who talked about how gross and wrong it was for two men or two women to be married. I thanked him for his time and hung up.
There was one woman who will vote "no" on the marriage amendment, but she really didn't have strong feelings about gay marriage. (But hey - "no" is AWESOME in this election.)
And then there was the guy who kinda broke my heart. The conversation started out as the man being 100% for this amendment, 100% against gay marriage. Gay marriage is a travesty and it goes against God and the Bible.
I was ready to wrap up the call politely and hang up, but I tried another tact that we had discussed in training.
"We're not voting on the Bible," I said. I explained that I'm secular and that at the end of the day, I cannot debate about morals, God, Bible, whatever.
"Do you know anyone who is gay?"
"Yes," he said. "My nephew. And it breaks my sister's heart. It breaks the father's heart." But then he starts telling me about his nephew. His nephew's partner that's "a great guy."
I told this man about my nephews - I told him about one in particular. The 16-year-old nephew who was technically my "first" nephew from my brother's first marriage. And although this boy is taller than me, although he's driving and although he's a star on the basketball court, I still look at him and I can see him as a three-year-old. And how that drives my nephew absolutely nuts. But the love that I feel for this kid who is more like a brother to me than anything else.
My nephew is not gay, but my point was made: "If someone told me that there was some law that stood between my nephew and his happiness, I can't fathom that," I said.
Here's how the script ends on these phone conversations ... "now that we've had this conversation, if you had to vote tomorrow, would you vote yes for the marriage amendment or would you vote no."
This man did not know. It was something he had to think more about.
*~*~*~*~
There are no clear, decisive victories in phone banks. I'm not going to call up someone who is morally opposed to gay marriage and expect them to be won over by my dulcet tones and my stunning logic. It does not work that way. And as I've struggled with the perception of gay marriage and how it keeps playing out in the political arena, I've made peace with the fact that there are some people that will never see my point of view. It sucks. It's frustrating. I can curse, I can gnash my teeth and rave at my husband (yes, all of these things have happened), but at the end of the day - I have to pick myself up, brush myself off, and move on.
But there are little victories. There are people who might change their mind because of something that is said. The ability to take gay marriage out of the abstract and make it real.
Sometimes we are the uncles of gay men. Sometimes there are people that we work with, that we worship with, that we went to school with ...
*~*~*~*~*~
So - considering that I'm 34 weeks pregnant, extremely uncomfortable, and that I truly hate making phone calls - why in the name of hell would I volunteer for this? And why would I do it again?
Thirty states around the country have had similar marriage amendments go on their ballots. Thirty states have passed these amendments. Minnesota has the opportunity to be the first state to defeat the marriage amendment and all signs show that this is going to be a close and emotional election.
I want to wake up on November 7th and find out that the marriage amendment failed miserably. But in the event that it does pass (and I give serious thought about emigrating to Canada), I want to know in my heart that I did everything I could to help defeat this amendment.
Working a phone bank took me way out of my comfort zone. I found myself getting strength by listening to this older gentleman named Bob make phone calls across the room from me. There was something about his raspy voice that made me feel like I wasn't alone and encouraged me to keep dialing.
This evening was a challenge, but it was a privilege.
So - my Rochester area friends who read my blog. Working a phone bank? Yeah - it's a time commitment and yeah, it's kind of terrifying. But the Rochester group does a GREAT job training you to work the phones. We spent an hour talking about the marriage amendment, some of the opposing viewpoints that are encountered, the importance of being kind to yourself when it came to tough phone calls ... the importance of having conversations with people regarding this issue. While I wasn't 100% prepared for my first phone call and while I have yet to hit my stride, I felt reasonably confident as I made my way down the list of calls I needed to make.
Whether it's phone calling, door knocking, donating money, or just having the conversation with friends - I implore people to get involved. This is going to be a close election. See my numbers above - the majority of the people I talked to were for the marriage amendment. A couple people hadn't really heard about it. Out of 35 dials, I might have changed the mind of one voter - or at least got him on the road to thinking about the issue on a personal level beyond the abstract.
You can find information about Minnesotans United for All Families here.
As I said tonight on Facebook: "We can move towards inclusion, tolerance, and love one conversation at a time, friends ..." Until this baby shows up, I'll work the phone banks again ... I do believe that I can make a difference.
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
"What is it you plan ..."
Life is nothing, if not random.
Today, I found myself in awe reading an article that was posted on one of my friends' Facebook pages. The article mourns the manager of a adult movie theater who was murdered in Ottumwa. The article killed me the way that good journalism does ... this article made me feel for a man I never met and will never know.
A little while later, I read an article about a project at Harvard Business School that asks graduating MBA students this question, that is derived from a poem written by Mary Oliver: "What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
And then I found the poem itself.
What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
What a beautiful question ... one that I'm going to ponder for awhile.
*~*~*~*~*~
My aunt is doing better - my cousin Leah is posting her progress on Facebook and on my aunt's Caring Bridge site. I am thankful for progress, however small it is ... because my aunt is her own little ray of sunshine. The world would be a little darker without her in it.
*~*~*~*~*
Good thoughts and prayers are requested for my friend Laurie's daughter who was in a car accident. It sounds like Breanna is on the mend, but uff da ... how frightening for my friend ...
Today, I found myself in awe reading an article that was posted on one of my friends' Facebook pages. The article mourns the manager of a adult movie theater who was murdered in Ottumwa. The article killed me the way that good journalism does ... this article made me feel for a man I never met and will never know.
A little while later, I read an article about a project at Harvard Business School that asks graduating MBA students this question, that is derived from a poem written by Mary Oliver: "What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"
And then I found the poem itself.
What is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?
What a beautiful question ... one that I'm going to ponder for awhile.
*~*~*~*~*~
My aunt is doing better - my cousin Leah is posting her progress on Facebook and on my aunt's Caring Bridge site. I am thankful for progress, however small it is ... because my aunt is her own little ray of sunshine. The world would be a little darker without her in it.
*~*~*~*~*
Good thoughts and prayers are requested for my friend Laurie's daughter who was in a car accident. It sounds like Breanna is on the mend, but uff da ... how frightening for my friend ...
Friday, June 1, 2012
A beautiful omen or a harbinger of doom?
I'm going to start this off with a pretty broad statement: I rarely have bad days. Yes, I get grumpy; yes, there are times where I string profanities together in a way that would make a sailor blush; yes, there are times that I cry, but overall - my life is pretty charmed and blessed. I'm that annoying "glass half full" person.
Today has seemed to prove itself as an exception to my perpetually and annoyingly sunny personality. I emailed Ryan and told him that I was ready to pack it in, go back to bed and forget that this day ever started.
I have a sick aunt ... not just ill ... the kind of illness that has her struggling in the hospital after brain surgery. I don't care if it's 2012 and the medical world is full of all sorts of technology and smarts that make them better than they were 30 years ago. Brain surgery. It's not like getting your tonsils out.
And then I got an email from the kid that I mentored this year at Mayo High School. She didn't pass her grad-required reading test, ergo - she isn't graduating. DAMMIT - she had the second highest improved GPA in the STRIVE mentoring group we were a part of. She had damn near perfect attendance in her school. She's supposed to go to RCTC in the fall and she would be the first in her family to ever attend college. DOESN'T THIS ALL MEAN SOMETHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS??? I am so fracking proud of this kid that I'm damn near apoplectic with rage at the high school and I'm frustrated at the system. I want to call them and be like, you know - I know fuck-ups. I know people who have graduated from high school who probably shouldn't. This kid isn't a pot smoker. She's not lazy. She has a hard time reading. English wasn't her first language and there are days when her diction is better than mine and I was born and raised in this country.
I'm almost ready to admit that I've been defeated by this day. (And it isn't even lunchtime yet. And I still have work to do. And a 2 PM conference call.)
I admitted as such to my husband.
Me: "This day is lacking in good things."
Him: "It's Friday, that has to count for something."
As I was contemplating an email back that would remind him that I have enough work this weekend to choke a horse and chain me to my laptop this weekend, another email came in.
Him: "The cat, baby and I love you."
I was about to remind him that the cat loves no one, the kid has no choice since I'm his lifeline to this planet and that he was obligated to love me through marriage when another email came in.
Him: "The rose is finally blooming. That has to count for something."
We have lived in this house for a little under five years. For the first four years of our residence, we've had this weird little vine on the side of the house that has grown prolifically, looked like a rose (damn thing has thorns ...), but never bloomed. During the first year, we chalked this up to the fact that Ryan had accidentally thwacked it off with the weed whacker. (To be honest - that was likely good for it ...) And then I thought about digging it up this year, but never got around to it.
And now - nearly five years and the removal of one huge, sun-blocking pine tree later - we have the most surprisingly beautiful miniature rosebush blooming in our yard. However, I grumpily informed my husband that I wasn't sure if the rosebush was a good omen or a harbinger of doom. (Hey - I said I'm having a bad day ...)
But as I went outside and snapped a couple pictures of my accidentally beautiful rosebush, I found myself thinking deep thoughts that went beyond my usual pregnant mind state of "damn, my hips hurt" or "do I really have to give up my cheese addiction after the baby gets here?"
Sometimes things need to change to let something else move forward. The kid I mentored has dealt with her recent news with grace that astonishes me.
"Don't worry because I'm okay with everything else and sometimes life gives you challenges and this is one of them," she wrote.
Good Lord, kid ... if you can tell me this in one of the darkest moments of your life - I guess I can suck it up a little bit longer, put on my big girl panties, and deal with this day.
The rosebush? It is what it is. It started blooming because it is now bathed in sunlight. My kid will either find a way to graduate with the rest of her class or she'll get her adult diploma ... she will make the best of whatever happens because that is who she is.
As for my aunt? If y'all could keep my Aunt Penny in your thoughts and prayers - she is in need of them. And she appreciates them - my cousin Leah reads the wonderful comments and prayers that people leave for her on Facebook and when she's been coherent, it has brightened her day.
Today has seemed to prove itself as an exception to my perpetually and annoyingly sunny personality. I emailed Ryan and told him that I was ready to pack it in, go back to bed and forget that this day ever started.
I have a sick aunt ... not just ill ... the kind of illness that has her struggling in the hospital after brain surgery. I don't care if it's 2012 and the medical world is full of all sorts of technology and smarts that make them better than they were 30 years ago. Brain surgery. It's not like getting your tonsils out.
And then I got an email from the kid that I mentored this year at Mayo High School. She didn't pass her grad-required reading test, ergo - she isn't graduating. DAMMIT - she had the second highest improved GPA in the STRIVE mentoring group we were a part of. She had damn near perfect attendance in her school. She's supposed to go to RCTC in the fall and she would be the first in her family to ever attend college. DOESN'T THIS ALL MEAN SOMETHING IN THE GRAND SCHEME OF THINGS??? I am so fracking proud of this kid that I'm damn near apoplectic with rage at the high school and I'm frustrated at the system. I want to call them and be like, you know - I know fuck-ups. I know people who have graduated from high school who probably shouldn't. This kid isn't a pot smoker. She's not lazy. She has a hard time reading. English wasn't her first language and there are days when her diction is better than mine and I was born and raised in this country.
I'm almost ready to admit that I've been defeated by this day. (And it isn't even lunchtime yet. And I still have work to do. And a 2 PM conference call.)
I admitted as such to my husband.
Me: "This day is lacking in good things."
Him: "It's Friday, that has to count for something."
As I was contemplating an email back that would remind him that I have enough work this weekend to choke a horse and chain me to my laptop this weekend, another email came in.
Him: "The cat, baby and I love you."
I was about to remind him that the cat loves no one, the kid has no choice since I'm his lifeline to this planet and that he was obligated to love me through marriage when another email came in.
Him: "The rose is finally blooming. That has to count for something."
We have lived in this house for a little under five years. For the first four years of our residence, we've had this weird little vine on the side of the house that has grown prolifically, looked like a rose (damn thing has thorns ...), but never bloomed. During the first year, we chalked this up to the fact that Ryan had accidentally thwacked it off with the weed whacker. (To be honest - that was likely good for it ...) And then I thought about digging it up this year, but never got around to it.
And now - nearly five years and the removal of one huge, sun-blocking pine tree later - we have the most surprisingly beautiful miniature rosebush blooming in our yard. However, I grumpily informed my husband that I wasn't sure if the rosebush was a good omen or a harbinger of doom. (Hey - I said I'm having a bad day ...)
But as I went outside and snapped a couple pictures of my accidentally beautiful rosebush, I found myself thinking deep thoughts that went beyond my usual pregnant mind state of "damn, my hips hurt" or "do I really have to give up my cheese addiction after the baby gets here?"
Sometimes things need to change to let something else move forward. The kid I mentored has dealt with her recent news with grace that astonishes me.
"Don't worry because I'm okay with everything else and sometimes life gives you challenges and this is one of them," she wrote.
Good Lord, kid ... if you can tell me this in one of the darkest moments of your life - I guess I can suck it up a little bit longer, put on my big girl panties, and deal with this day.
The rosebush? It is what it is. It started blooming because it is now bathed in sunlight. My kid will either find a way to graduate with the rest of her class or she'll get her adult diploma ... she will make the best of whatever happens because that is who she is.
As for my aunt? If y'all could keep my Aunt Penny in your thoughts and prayers - she is in need of them. And she appreciates them - my cousin Leah reads the wonderful comments and prayers that people leave for her on Facebook and when she's been coherent, it has brightened her day.
Monday, May 14, 2012
Cutting the cord on cable
This week's latest torture has everything to do with the latest "True Blood" trailer that's been circulating on the Web. I mean - it's not enough that Alexander Skarsgard is adorably hot, they have my favorite former TV detective Elliot Stabler - erm, I mean, Chris Meloni - playing a vampire as well. And Denis O'Hare is back. Shenanigans are going to abound in Bon Temps!
Last year, I coerced my husband into subscribing to HBO in time for "True Blood: Season 4." This year we convinced each other that we really didn't need cable anymore.
And we don't. But damn ... Chris Meloni!
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Why did we ditch cable? The biggest reason was the fact that we've both evolved to a point in our lives where we don't watch a lot of TV. There were many conversations that went something like this: "Geez, we have how many channels and yet nothing is on." I don't really care to keep up with the Kardashians (although, from what I read - I think I really like Khloe ... she seems bad ass.), and although there are certain shows I miss, many of them can be found on places like Hulu or on the network websites themselves.
One of the things I realize now in retrospect: You would not believe how much crap we get done by not having the added distraction of TV in our house. Nope - novel isn't finished yet. Nope, my house still doesn't magically clean itself, but beyond the plethora of baby stuff we've acquired recently - it seems a little cleaner. The garden is mostly in. My husband and I play a lot of board games. We've been reading more books. I took up knitting.
The hubs and I are also following one of the most basic tenets of frugality by cancelling our cable subscription: Go through your monthly expenses and trim what is not necessary. We're now saving $60 a month by ditching our bare bones cable subscription (HBO got cancelled as soon as TB:S4 was over).
Cancelling cable is not for everyone. In fact, one of my nephews assured me that my own child would grow up to hate me since I wasn't going to have a 24/7 smorgasbord of bad television at his disposal. But meh - it's a risk I'm willing to take.
Last year, I coerced my husband into subscribing to HBO in time for "True Blood: Season 4." This year we convinced each other that we really didn't need cable anymore.
And we don't. But damn ... Chris Meloni!
*~*~*~*~*~*~
Why did we ditch cable? The biggest reason was the fact that we've both evolved to a point in our lives where we don't watch a lot of TV. There were many conversations that went something like this: "Geez, we have how many channels and yet nothing is on." I don't really care to keep up with the Kardashians (although, from what I read - I think I really like Khloe ... she seems bad ass.), and although there are certain shows I miss, many of them can be found on places like Hulu or on the network websites themselves.
One of the things I realize now in retrospect: You would not believe how much crap we get done by not having the added distraction of TV in our house. Nope - novel isn't finished yet. Nope, my house still doesn't magically clean itself, but beyond the plethora of baby stuff we've acquired recently - it seems a little cleaner. The garden is mostly in. My husband and I play a lot of board games. We've been reading more books. I took up knitting.
The hubs and I are also following one of the most basic tenets of frugality by cancelling our cable subscription: Go through your monthly expenses and trim what is not necessary. We're now saving $60 a month by ditching our bare bones cable subscription (HBO got cancelled as soon as TB:S4 was over).
Cancelling cable is not for everyone. In fact, one of my nephews assured me that my own child would grow up to hate me since I wasn't going to have a 24/7 smorgasbord of bad television at his disposal. But meh - it's a risk I'm willing to take.
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Up on the soap box ...
OK - so I'm up on my soap box again. If you are offended by my outspoken, unabashed acceptance of gay couples to marry - stop reading. Now.
(Breathe.)
My heart aches for people in North Carolina. And not because North Carolina is currently the site of why "it's a great idea to let only straight people get married" (yeah - John Edwards, I'm looking at you ... ), but because of last night's election where North Carolinans voted on an amendment to strengthen the state's gay marriage ban. Which already existed, mind you ... but let's waste taxpayers' dollars beating a dead horse, why don't we?
Yes - the people spoke. And yes - here I am ranting and pissed off as hell because the vote didn't go "my" way.
So why am I writing this? Because in November, Minnesotans are going to be voting on the same damn issue and I will be DAMNED if I don't expend my energy fighting for a cause that is dear to me and to so many of my friends who are patiently waiting for the human right / rite of marriage.
My initial morning depression over North Carolina was briefly abated with George Takei posted a nugget on his Facebook that had this slogan: "North Carolina. Where you can marry your cousin. But not your gay cousin."
And then I was inspired by some words that my dear friend Meg wrote: "Denying gays and lesbians the right to marry or even have civil unions does not mean we will cease to be gay, or live together, or make families together, or love one another. We will keep doing that. And we will keep being good neighbors, and paying our taxes, and showing up for work, and for church, and for opportunities to serve those around us. Because we're all people- intrinsically the same. And some day, not too far off, we will all be ashamed at the petty things we chose to focus on when there are so many things in the world that really do threaten our homes and our families and our fellows."
And then I just got pissed off when I saw this blog post from a food blog that I follow. If you worry that a picture of a happily married gay couple might fracture your precarious straight relationship, I wouldn't click on the link that I posted. Because the sight of two men in love is just ... what? Earth shattering?
For those of you in Minnesota who want to know how to get involved and the issues surrounding the "Vote No" campaign, please visit Minnesotans United for All Families. They can be found here.
(Breathe.)
My heart aches for people in North Carolina. And not because North Carolina is currently the site of why "it's a great idea to let only straight people get married" (yeah - John Edwards, I'm looking at you ... ), but because of last night's election where North Carolinans voted on an amendment to strengthen the state's gay marriage ban. Which already existed, mind you ... but let's waste taxpayers' dollars beating a dead horse, why don't we?
Yes - the people spoke. And yes - here I am ranting and pissed off as hell because the vote didn't go "my" way.
So why am I writing this? Because in November, Minnesotans are going to be voting on the same damn issue and I will be DAMNED if I don't expend my energy fighting for a cause that is dear to me and to so many of my friends who are patiently waiting for the human right / rite of marriage.
My initial morning depression over North Carolina was briefly abated with George Takei posted a nugget on his Facebook that had this slogan: "North Carolina. Where you can marry your cousin. But not your gay cousin."
And then I was inspired by some words that my dear friend Meg wrote: "Denying gays and lesbians the right to marry or even have civil unions does not mean we will cease to be gay, or live together, or make families together, or love one another. We will keep doing that. And we will keep being good neighbors, and paying our taxes, and showing up for work, and for church, and for opportunities to serve those around us. Because we're all people- intrinsically the same. And some day, not too far off, we will all be ashamed at the petty things we chose to focus on when there are so many things in the world that really do threaten our homes and our families and our fellows."
And then I just got pissed off when I saw this blog post from a food blog that I follow. If you worry that a picture of a happily married gay couple might fracture your precarious straight relationship, I wouldn't click on the link that I posted. Because the sight of two men in love is just ... what? Earth shattering?
For those of you in Minnesota who want to know how to get involved and the issues surrounding the "Vote No" campaign, please visit Minnesotans United for All Families. They can be found here.
Thursday, May 3, 2012
I'm not a decorator
One of these first days I TOTALLY intend to post a recipe that I've made. Really. It's one of my plans (along with getting a first draft of my novel done by the end of April, going through more things in my office to donate / toss / etc.), but my life is different than it was when ShelleyBakes started. I still love cooking. But these days, I'd rather have recipes that come from my childhood or I make up things that utilize what's in my pantry. (And trust me - you probably don't want those "recipes.")
So here's some more commentary in the meantime ...
I'm going to be 34 years old this year. I'm not someone who shies away from getting older, in fact - I love birthdays. I love cake. I love the idea of getting friends together. I love any excuse to have a party. If I would have followed what I think my life should have looked like when I was younger - I would have had kids by now. Probably two, maybe I would have conned the husband into having a third one, but my childbearing years would be over and I would be knee deep into raising my little brood of hellions.
Somewhere a supreme being is giggling at my presumption.
My husband and I got married when we were 30 and we had some issues getting knocked up. Right around the time I had given up hope of conceiving, I found out that I was pregnant. (And promptly put up the bottle of Jamison that I had been eying in new appreciation of Irish whiskey.) And here I sit, six months pregnant and wondering where the hell the time has went and am I ever going to get my home office cleaned out and nursery ready?
And that, folks, is today's blog commentary: I am not a decorator. I'm not even a cleaner ... I'm a reformed hoarder who still has reporter's notebooks from a career that ended over five years ago. As I look around my office as I write this I spy: a blue rubber ducky, my Willie Nelson bandana that has been framed and waiting to be hung for about six months, the basil my friend Erin gave me - rooting in a pilsner glass, prenatal vitamins, the face cream my mom-in-law gave me a month ago when I visited her, a spent printer cartridge ... but oh, I have a couple baby outfits hanging up in the closet in my office. The rest of the baby paraphernalia (crib, bassinet, clothes, swing) are hanging out elsewhere in the house and are still at friends' houses, waiting to be picked up. The office is waiting to be cleaned out and transformed into my son's little kingdom where he will sleep, dream, wake, poop, and drool.
I'm so not a decorator.
One of my favorite food bloggers recently welcomed a daughter and posted BEAUTIFUL pictures of her "Up"-inspired nursery. I think this lady is in her 20s and must have more energy than my knocked up, 33-year-old self. But then I think of my beloved friend Sharona. She's 30 and managed to beautifully decorate her son's nursery. (Then again, she's more creative than I am ... and more organized. Yup, that's it.)
Every once in awhile, I'll tell my friends and I'll tell my baby bump that I'm almost sorry that I didn't get pregnant in my 20s. If I was younger and not as curmudgeonly as I am today, that kid would have everything down to the stupidest baby item ever conceived by the Babies 'R Us developers. I would still like places like Target and the mall. I would have had a heart attack when my husband suggested that we get rid of cable (although I might have been the one who made that suggestion ...). Baby's nursery would be themed and haphazardly PERFECT (because even in my 20s, I wasn't obsessed with details ...).
I sometimes worry that people take my distinct lack of interest in the nursery / all things baby purchase-related as code for me not being excited about the wee mister Mahannah. That's not true. I'm at a different place in this world where I'm more obsessed with quality over quantity. I want to do credit to the moms that raised my husband and I. In my thought process about how to achieve that, wipe warmers didn't really factor into the equation.
I'm not a decorator. I feel bad that the crib is not going to match the rocking chair that my folks are loaning to us for the baby's arrival. But I love that rocking chair. My parents have had it for years. And I really liked the crib ... it was nice. And it was on sale! (BONUS!)
So yeah - not a decorator. Also, not much of a planner. But I got heart ... I think I have some common sense. And when it comes to all the neat things I'll teach my son someday - I think he'll forgive my lack of taste when it comes to anything involving interior design.
At least I hope so. And look at it this way. All of the money I'm saving on baby items - I can put that towards his eventual therapy fund ...
So here's some more commentary in the meantime ...
I'm going to be 34 years old this year. I'm not someone who shies away from getting older, in fact - I love birthdays. I love cake. I love the idea of getting friends together. I love any excuse to have a party. If I would have followed what I think my life should have looked like when I was younger - I would have had kids by now. Probably two, maybe I would have conned the husband into having a third one, but my childbearing years would be over and I would be knee deep into raising my little brood of hellions.
Somewhere a supreme being is giggling at my presumption.
My husband and I got married when we were 30 and we had some issues getting knocked up. Right around the time I had given up hope of conceiving, I found out that I was pregnant. (And promptly put up the bottle of Jamison that I had been eying in new appreciation of Irish whiskey.) And here I sit, six months pregnant and wondering where the hell the time has went and am I ever going to get my home office cleaned out and nursery ready?
And that, folks, is today's blog commentary: I am not a decorator. I'm not even a cleaner ... I'm a reformed hoarder who still has reporter's notebooks from a career that ended over five years ago. As I look around my office as I write this I spy: a blue rubber ducky, my Willie Nelson bandana that has been framed and waiting to be hung for about six months, the basil my friend Erin gave me - rooting in a pilsner glass, prenatal vitamins, the face cream my mom-in-law gave me a month ago when I visited her, a spent printer cartridge ... but oh, I have a couple baby outfits hanging up in the closet in my office. The rest of the baby paraphernalia (crib, bassinet, clothes, swing) are hanging out elsewhere in the house and are still at friends' houses, waiting to be picked up. The office is waiting to be cleaned out and transformed into my son's little kingdom where he will sleep, dream, wake, poop, and drool.
I'm so not a decorator.
One of my favorite food bloggers recently welcomed a daughter and posted BEAUTIFUL pictures of her "Up"-inspired nursery. I think this lady is in her 20s and must have more energy than my knocked up, 33-year-old self. But then I think of my beloved friend Sharona. She's 30 and managed to beautifully decorate her son's nursery. (Then again, she's more creative than I am ... and more organized. Yup, that's it.)
Every once in awhile, I'll tell my friends and I'll tell my baby bump that I'm almost sorry that I didn't get pregnant in my 20s. If I was younger and not as curmudgeonly as I am today, that kid would have everything down to the stupidest baby item ever conceived by the Babies 'R Us developers. I would still like places like Target and the mall. I would have had a heart attack when my husband suggested that we get rid of cable (although I might have been the one who made that suggestion ...). Baby's nursery would be themed and haphazardly PERFECT (because even in my 20s, I wasn't obsessed with details ...).
I sometimes worry that people take my distinct lack of interest in the nursery / all things baby purchase-related as code for me not being excited about the wee mister Mahannah. That's not true. I'm at a different place in this world where I'm more obsessed with quality over quantity. I want to do credit to the moms that raised my husband and I. In my thought process about how to achieve that, wipe warmers didn't really factor into the equation.
I'm not a decorator. I feel bad that the crib is not going to match the rocking chair that my folks are loaning to us for the baby's arrival. But I love that rocking chair. My parents have had it for years. And I really liked the crib ... it was nice. And it was on sale! (BONUS!)
So yeah - not a decorator. Also, not much of a planner. But I got heart ... I think I have some common sense. And when it comes to all the neat things I'll teach my son someday - I think he'll forgive my lack of taste when it comes to anything involving interior design.
At least I hope so. And look at it this way. All of the money I'm saving on baby items - I can put that towards his eventual therapy fund ...
Monday, April 23, 2012
Done too soon
I have had two weird brushes with mortality lately – none of
them have involved me directly, thankfully (baby kicks in reminder of the lives
we are both living right now …) – but this is kind of a mind fuck for me, all
the same.
(Sorry – I should have put something in there that said
something to the effect of “I’m reminded of how short life is,” but I’m all
about honesty here. I am having a hard
time processing everything. Hence, that
delightful phrase “mind fuck.”)
First – a tribute to someone I never met – Jim Mosier from
Oxford Falls Mississippi: The world is a strange place that seems to
get smaller with each passing phase of technology. I never met Jim, I just knew him first from
Twitter and then on Facebook. Most of my
foodie friends know Jim because of his carefully crafted Bloody Mary mixes and
other items that he developed in his kitchen. Jim was passionate about small and
independent businesses. He was also
handy for a quick and snarky comment on Facebook. I will miss his wit and spirit. I guess Jim passed on about a month ago, so
this is a belated note of mourning, but Jim will be missed all the same.
…
I sit here today and I keep writing and deleting the next
narrative. Because how can you
encapsulate in words someone who was larger than life, more original than any
character shown on screen or page … how can you write about someone who should
not be dead? Someone whose spirit should
have transcended something as unfair as an untimely death?
My phone rang last night and it was my beloved mom, in
tears. My heart stopped as I wondered if
something had happened to my father or another member of my family. But no – it was news about one of my mother’s
dearest friends, taken too soon after a reported ATV accident.
Sandra Ehrhardt. I’ve
known that woman since I was a child. I
babysat her daughters. I remember going
to the hospital after her youngest, Samantha, was born. The first time I ever pumped gas? It was for Sandra … She was my 4-H leader,
she taught me how to make homemade caramels. When I started my job at Schmidt Printing, I
found out that one of my co-workers who later became one of my dearest friends
was her first cousin. I know this woman’s
mother. I know her husband. I attended her eldest daughter’s wedding and
I remember how beautiful Sandra looked that day.
This woman was in my life.
Not a constant presence, but if someone mentioned her name in passing,
it brought up the instant image of Sandra’s quick grin.
There are a couple songs that are in my head today – one is
a quick lyric from Bruce Springsteen’s “Terry’s Song”: “When they made you
brother, they broke the mold.” And then
my mind turns to Neil Diamond and his song “Done too Soon.” Diamond goes through a list of historical
figures – Jesus Christ to “E.A. Poe” and then sings: “And each one there/ Has
one thing shared: / They have sweated beneath the same sun, / Looked up in
wonder at the same moon, / And wept when it was all done / For bein' done too
soon …”
…
I try to be cognizant of my loved ones. There are people in my heart who are gone
that are thought of daily. Does death
make me appreciate my parents more? I
loved them fiercely in the first place.
But I will not lie. After a
restless night that found me on the couch sleeping, waking, and feeling my kid’s
intermittent kicks, I crawled into my own bed this morning and marveled at the
bristly feel of my husband’s new haircut.
Then I texted my mom to remind her that I loved her. Then my cousin Trix, who called immediately –
I made sure to get a quick “I love you” in before we hung up. I emailed my friend Cathy to tell her that I
loved her and that I was thinking about her family in the loss of her beloved
cousin. I’ll try to call my dad this
afternoon. I need to text my other
cousin who is celebrating her birthday today …
Today, in the midst of email requests for work projects, I
will let my mind wander. Although I’m
more secular than spiritual these days, I offered up a very heartfelt prayer to
Whomever last night to make sure that Sandra’s family felt peace in the midst
of all of this turmoil. I pray for
Mark. I pray for the girls. I pray for the grandbabies that were such a
light in Sandra’s life.
To be honest: Today
fucking sucks. And that’s about all I
got … but I also have a ton of memories.
If you’re the praying type – say a prayer for Sandra’s family. I know some of my readers know them as well
as I do. And if you’re not the praying
type – have a good thought for them. If
you would have known Sandra, you would have been marveled by her. She was a force to be contended with. She was a good mom, a good wife, a wonderful
grandma, and a good friend. The world is
a little emptier today without her.
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Past, present, and future
 |
| Three years ago ... |
 | ||
| A little over three months ago ... |
 |
| Damn ... still four more months or so until we meet you ... |
Ayup - I'm the luckiest girl in the world.
**A) I'm horrible remembering dates, even my own anniversary. I just suck. and B) I'm pregnant - hence I can think of something "important" while standing in the kitchen and forget it five steps later. Seriously ...
Tuesday, February 21, 2012
The importance of being an ally
OK - this is a cooking blog, but when I did my redesign a year or so ago (good Lord, when did I redesign this??), I did reserve a label for anything that crept outside the cooking realm - like my love for Diana Gabaladon, Gordon Lightfoot, Here Come the Mummies, etc. Anyway - that's the "Commentary" label. So here! Here's some commentary!
I read an article a little while back in Rolling Stone that talked about the a rash of teen suicides in Anoka-Hennepin school district. The majority of the nine students who killed themselves were bullied for being gay or for the perception that they were gay.
I think I emailed some pretty strong and profane reactions to the article to my husband and then I emailed my dear friend Paul to see what I could do about this. Basically, my email was that I feel like it is no longer enough to be an ally to the gay rights cause. Should I volunteer for the local GLBT youth organization in Rochester? I don't really have time, but I do not want to see this hatred in my community! Especially since I'm spawning a member of said community in mah belly. (Oh - sorry blog readers who aren't related to me or are not on Facebook ... Baby Mahannah is due in August.)
Here's part of Paul's reply:
"Honestly, I want to give you the same advice you gave me at one point (which I have replayed over and over and over when I get frustrated or down about being active in this issue) - you, as the person you are, and the position you are in, have incredible power to make a difference, and be an 'ambassador' (your word!) for change," Paul wrote. (FYI - I am rather impressed that I came up with the phrase "ambassador of change." How ... wordy ... of me.)
A couple weeks later, he sent me this article from the Huffington Post, which talks about the importance and the charge that straight allies have in our support of the gay rights movement.
This was one of my favorite lines from this piece: "As straight Americans we have two choices: we can choose to sit back and enjoy our rights as we have them, or we can realize that it is actually not freedom at all when our friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues do not share these basic rights."
I have no really eloquent way of closing this blog post. Those who know me well, understand that this is an issue that has really shaped me over the past few years - it shapes the way that I treat my faith, it shapes my political activism, and it will shape the way that I raise my kid. I am proud to be married to an ally and I'm blessed to have friends who share the same beliefs that I do.
However, all of these actions mean nothing if our country and our nation continue to deny the rights of all of its citizens. But it's a cause that I will champion until this is just another page in history. I hope that many of you will join me.
I read an article a little while back in Rolling Stone that talked about the a rash of teen suicides in Anoka-Hennepin school district. The majority of the nine students who killed themselves were bullied for being gay or for the perception that they were gay.
I think I emailed some pretty strong and profane reactions to the article to my husband and then I emailed my dear friend Paul to see what I could do about this. Basically, my email was that I feel like it is no longer enough to be an ally to the gay rights cause. Should I volunteer for the local GLBT youth organization in Rochester? I don't really have time, but I do not want to see this hatred in my community! Especially since I'm spawning a member of said community in mah belly. (Oh - sorry blog readers who aren't related to me or are not on Facebook ... Baby Mahannah is due in August.)
Here's part of Paul's reply:
"Honestly, I want to give you the same advice you gave me at one point (which I have replayed over and over and over when I get frustrated or down about being active in this issue) - you, as the person you are, and the position you are in, have incredible power to make a difference, and be an 'ambassador' (your word!) for change," Paul wrote. (FYI - I am rather impressed that I came up with the phrase "ambassador of change." How ... wordy ... of me.)
A couple weeks later, he sent me this article from the Huffington Post, which talks about the importance and the charge that straight allies have in our support of the gay rights movement.
This was one of my favorite lines from this piece: "As straight Americans we have two choices: we can choose to sit back and enjoy our rights as we have them, or we can realize that it is actually not freedom at all when our friends, family, neighbors, and colleagues do not share these basic rights."
I have no really eloquent way of closing this blog post. Those who know me well, understand that this is an issue that has really shaped me over the past few years - it shapes the way that I treat my faith, it shapes my political activism, and it will shape the way that I raise my kid. I am proud to be married to an ally and I'm blessed to have friends who share the same beliefs that I do.
However, all of these actions mean nothing if our country and our nation continue to deny the rights of all of its citizens. But it's a cause that I will champion until this is just another page in history. I hope that many of you will join me.
Monday, February 13, 2012
Valentine's Day Roundup!
Confession: The Husband and I already celebrated Valentine's Day. We hate crowds and we love Indian food, so we decided to head to our favorite spot on Sunday and celebrate the holiday, curry-style. For the big day, I'm either going to make his mama's BBQ Meatballs or spring for a heart-shaped pizza.
That's tomorrow. I'm not known for planning ahead.
But since I will plan for the rest of you - here are some Valentine's Day ideas from the archives. I've listed some entrees and dessert, because V-Day doesn't scream salad to me.
And for those of you who could care less about the holiday and think it's a sham that was thought up by the Hallmark company. This recipe is for you:
Whether you're snarky or sappy - I wish you a wonderful Valentine's Day.
That's tomorrow. I'm not known for planning ahead.
But since I will plan for the rest of you - here are some Valentine's Day ideas from the archives. I've listed some entrees and dessert, because V-Day doesn't scream salad to me.
 |
| The Pioneer Woman's Fancy Macaroni - that's right, bacon on top. Bacon = love. |
 |
| Pastitsio - known as Greek lasagna. Also known as love in a pan! |
 | ||
| Stuffed Chicken Breasts - this was a ShelleyBakes original, thought up for a friend of mine who wanted to woo a woman. |
 | ||
| This is Giada's Farmer's Pasta - yeah, somehow in my mind I equate pasta to romance. All I know is that this dish is goood ... |
 |
| Chocolate Cherry Cake - love doesn't need to be complicated. This cake is not - it's a cake mix and cherry pie filling. Absolute decadence with limited amount of steps. |
 |
| Again - convenience ingredients can lead to decadence ... this chocolate peanut butter cookie pizza is brilliant. |
 |
| This is a little bit more time consuming, but well worth the effort - Italian Cream Cake. |
 |
| Confession: Ina and Jeffrey Garten might be one of my favorite couples on television. I sometimes tell Ryan that he's my Jeffrey and he just rolls his eyes at me. (True love, I say!) This is Ina's recipe for Beatty's Chocolate Cake. And yes, it tastes as good as it looks. |
 |
| I made these cookies for my co-workers in the estimating department last year. They were charmed. And touched. And they loved it. I don't know what that says about them. Or me. |
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Confections and crafts: Cherry Cream Cheese Coffee Cake
It's good to have good friends - especially the kind of friends that you can be creative with and try new things that you would likely be too lazy to accomplish on your own time.
My dear friend Cathy came over this AM and we worked on a craft and I got fancy and served her some coffee cake. It is one of those things that's ingrained in me from childhood reading books like "Little House on the Prairie" and "Anne of Green Gables." When you have company over, you put your best foot forward and assure them through food and beverage that they are welcomed and loved.
This coffee cake comes from Taste of Home and has enough pain in the ass factor that it's the kind of cake you wouldn't make for yourself, but would save to impress someone. Because it is tasty - but the bottom cake layer that you have to press into a pan? Sticky and messy. (Hint: Get your hands damp first - it helps a little bit.) And at 25 grams of fat per slice, it isn't something you'd should be clamoring for on a daily basis. (Clamoring is one thing - indulging is the other ...)
As for the craft? I've dabbled a little bit in Pinterest, but I'm still relying on other bloggers to tell me the groovy things that they are finding on other folks' boards.
This craft came from Katy at Non-Consumer Advocate and takes Mason jars and re-purposes them into soap containers. Confession: I have more Mason jars than I know what to do with and have a special place in my heart for the vintage blue jars that we inherited when my husband's grandma moved out of her home. So it was nice to find an EASY craft that used up some of the materials I had on hand. And luckily for me, Cathy came to the party with lids her husband Timm had already drilled for us. So with a little bit of glue work, we made these:
Easy, lovely and re-used items that Cathy and I had laying around the house.
Needless to say, it was a wonderful Saturday morning.
My dear friend Cathy came over this AM and we worked on a craft and I got fancy and served her some coffee cake. It is one of those things that's ingrained in me from childhood reading books like "Little House on the Prairie" and "Anne of Green Gables." When you have company over, you put your best foot forward and assure them through food and beverage that they are welcomed and loved.
This coffee cake comes from Taste of Home and has enough pain in the ass factor that it's the kind of cake you wouldn't make for yourself, but would save to impress someone. Because it is tasty - but the bottom cake layer that you have to press into a pan? Sticky and messy. (Hint: Get your hands damp first - it helps a little bit.) And at 25 grams of fat per slice, it isn't something you'd should be clamoring for on a daily basis. (Clamoring is one thing - indulging is the other ...)
As for the craft? I've dabbled a little bit in Pinterest, but I'm still relying on other bloggers to tell me the groovy things that they are finding on other folks' boards.
This craft came from Katy at Non-Consumer Advocate and takes Mason jars and re-purposes them into soap containers. Confession: I have more Mason jars than I know what to do with and have a special place in my heart for the vintage blue jars that we inherited when my husband's grandma moved out of her home. So it was nice to find an EASY craft that used up some of the materials I had on hand. And luckily for me, Cathy came to the party with lids her husband Timm had already drilled for us. So with a little bit of glue work, we made these:
Needless to say, it was a wonderful Saturday morning.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Twenty years ago ...
I was reminded on Facebook this AM that Nirvana's "Nevermind" came out 20 years ago. In an instant, I was able to complete the mental math (because 33 minus 20 isn't exactly that difficult ...) and I realize that I was 13 years old and I remember getting a cassette dub of the album - "Nevermind" on one side and some of Pearl Jam's "Ten" on the other.
This album served as an antidote to some of the shenanigans of junior high. It didn't matter that I wasn't popular, that my mom wouldn't let me wear ripped jeans like I really wanted to, that my friends were geeks like me and that the worst possible situation of all time was pissing off Miss Smith in German class, the music of the Seattle grunge scene went beyond the badassery of bands like Metallica.
This morning, I've been going back and forth with an college classmate of mine who is in Norway. His opinion? Nevermind still sucks - never mind that it was an "awakening" of sorts in American music. As for me - I remember the awe I felt the first time I heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit." (Oh yes, I had that deodorant, my friends ...) I remember the prickles that I had the first time I heard the posthumous release "You Know You're Right" (driving on Interstate 43, just right into Milwaukee ... not a good place to get distracted).
If "Nevermind" is a shitty album, I embrace my bad taste with glee. And my 13-year-old self approves.
This album served as an antidote to some of the shenanigans of junior high. It didn't matter that I wasn't popular, that my mom wouldn't let me wear ripped jeans like I really wanted to, that my friends were geeks like me and that the worst possible situation of all time was pissing off Miss Smith in German class, the music of the Seattle grunge scene went beyond the badassery of bands like Metallica.
This morning, I've been going back and forth with an college classmate of mine who is in Norway. His opinion? Nevermind still sucks - never mind that it was an "awakening" of sorts in American music. As for me - I remember the awe I felt the first time I heard "Smells Like Teen Spirit." (Oh yes, I had that deodorant, my friends ...) I remember the prickles that I had the first time I heard the posthumous release "You Know You're Right" (driving on Interstate 43, just right into Milwaukee ... not a good place to get distracted).
If "Nevermind" is a shitty album, I embrace my bad taste with glee. And my 13-year-old self approves.
Sunday, September 11, 2011
The ABC's of me!
One of my favorite frugality blogs featured this post the other day and I thought it would be a fun one to share.
A – Age. I’m 33
B – Bed Size. Queen.
C – Chore I dislike. Dusting ... I have no clue why I don't like to dust, I just don't I'd rather clean the bathroom.
D – Dogs. I do not consider myself a dog person - when I was a kid growing up, we always had dogs and I always liked them, but I prefer the stubborn independence of my cat.
E – Essential start to my day. Talking to said stubborn cat while I'm making lunch for my hubby and copious amounts of coffee.
F – Favorite Colors. Blue, brown, green and gray.
G – Gold or silver? Either.
H – Height. I’m 5’8″.
I – Instruments I play(ed). Little known fact ... I took several years worth of voice lessons in high school and college and had a vocal scholarship to college. Having said that, I'm a fair-to-middlin' singer, the kind of voice that's really good for blending and not one to sing solos (which I am PERFECTLY fine with). Throughout school I played clarinet until I was a junior in high school and I started playing bass clarinet.
J – Job title. Proposal Manager.
K – Kids. A four-legged bastard cat.
L – Live. My husband and I have a house in southeast Minnesota.
M - Money tip I like best. I'm stealing what Frugal Babe put in her post, because it's simple and good. "Whatever you earn, spend less."
N – Never plan to… Never say never ... :).
O – Overnight hospital stays. Fifth-grade, getting my tonsils and adenoids out.
P - Pet Peeves. Intolerance and shitty drivers.
Q - Quote from a movie. "OK Ramblers, let's get rambling." I'm sure my friend Deb knows what movie that's from.
R – Righty or lefty? Righty
S - Siblings. I have an older brother ... we are by no means best friends, but we're fiercely protective of one another and tolerate each other slightly. I also have a cousin whom I consider to be the sister I was never gifted with.
T - Time I wake up. My mind starts waking up before 6 a.m., I can usually put off getting up until about 7.
U – Underwear. Yes please?
V - Vegetables I don’t like. Raw carrots.
W – What makes me run late. Me being me.
X – X-rays I’ve had. Dental and from when I broke my arm in sixth-grade.
Y – Yummy food I make. I've been known to make some good food from time to time.
Z – Zoo animals I like. Zoos are stinky, I'm not a big zoo person.
Do you have a blog? If you do, consider yourself tagged!
A – Age. I’m 33
B – Bed Size. Queen.
C – Chore I dislike. Dusting ... I have no clue why I don't like to dust, I just don't I'd rather clean the bathroom.
D – Dogs. I do not consider myself a dog person - when I was a kid growing up, we always had dogs and I always liked them, but I prefer the stubborn independence of my cat.
E – Essential start to my day. Talking to said stubborn cat while I'm making lunch for my hubby and copious amounts of coffee.
F – Favorite Colors. Blue, brown, green and gray.
G – Gold or silver? Either.
H – Height. I’m 5’8″.
I – Instruments I play(ed). Little known fact ... I took several years worth of voice lessons in high school and college and had a vocal scholarship to college. Having said that, I'm a fair-to-middlin' singer, the kind of voice that's really good for blending and not one to sing solos (which I am PERFECTLY fine with). Throughout school I played clarinet until I was a junior in high school and I started playing bass clarinet.
J – Job title. Proposal Manager.
K – Kids. A four-legged bastard cat.
L – Live. My husband and I have a house in southeast Minnesota.
M - Money tip I like best. I'm stealing what Frugal Babe put in her post, because it's simple and good. "Whatever you earn, spend less."
N – Never plan to… Never say never ... :).
O – Overnight hospital stays. Fifth-grade, getting my tonsils and adenoids out.
P - Pet Peeves. Intolerance and shitty drivers.
Q - Quote from a movie. "OK Ramblers, let's get rambling." I'm sure my friend Deb knows what movie that's from.
R – Righty or lefty? Righty
S - Siblings. I have an older brother ... we are by no means best friends, but we're fiercely protective of one another and tolerate each other slightly. I also have a cousin whom I consider to be the sister I was never gifted with.
T - Time I wake up. My mind starts waking up before 6 a.m., I can usually put off getting up until about 7.
U – Underwear. Yes please?
V - Vegetables I don’t like. Raw carrots.
W – What makes me run late. Me being me.
X – X-rays I’ve had. Dental and from when I broke my arm in sixth-grade.
Y – Yummy food I make. I've been known to make some good food from time to time.
Z – Zoo animals I like. Zoos are stinky, I'm not a big zoo person.
Do you have a blog? If you do, consider yourself tagged!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Vacation! (Otherwise known as "The beers I drank")
Ryan and I took a short trip up to Lake Superior over the weekend ... here's some highlights. (Also known as the "beers I drank" because the Duluth/Superior area are blessed with a couple of great microbreweries.)
Rest assured though - our trip wasn't all beer tasting. I caught a sunrise on Lake Superior en route to the Barkers Island Farmers Market.
Later, there were ships to be watched in Duluth in Canal Park.
But also - there was more beer ... these pictures were taken at Fitger's Brewhouse.
In short, it was a great weekend. Even if you can see the tan lines from around my sunglasses.
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| Thirsty Pagan Brewing was the first spot we hit after checking into our hotel. I found them on the Internet and was lured there with the promise of hand-crafted beers and gourmet pizza. We were not disappointed with either promise. |
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| This is the Burntwood Black. I think I could drink this beer every day for the rest of my life. They even use it to make brownies. |
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| Ryan had the North Coast Amber. |
Later, there were ships to be watched in Duluth in Canal Park.
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| I could watch ships all day ... there is something amazing about seeing a vessel that's about the size of a football field come into this tiny little canal and make its way towards the docks. |
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| This was my chocolate cherry stout. It was like dessert in a pint. |
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| Ryan went with the El Nino Pale Ale. Very good, very hoppy. |
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Detailed instructions ...
My husband has temporarily left me for a bunch of nerds at Gen Con in Indianapolis. And God love my husband, he likely loves my cat more than I do at this point, but he seems to forget that the Cat and I were shacking up long before he and I started cohabiting.
Having said that, he has also trained the cat to NOT drink out of the toilet, so I only rolled my eyes a little bit when I found this note taped to the bathroom mirror last night.
Bowls of fresh water are mentioned throughout. And the last item on the list mandates that the cat needs skritches! Every day!
Here's the object of my husband's affection.
Cat is not impressed.
Having said that, he has also trained the cat to NOT drink out of the toilet, so I only rolled my eyes a little bit when I found this note taped to the bathroom mirror last night.
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| Why yes, that's a picture of the Cat hanging in our bathroom ... |
Here's the object of my husband's affection.
 |
| "I'm stuck with you alone, again?" |
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
A moment of introspection ...
I'm not going to say that it was the hardest case I ever covered, I can go years - apparently - without thinking of this particular case that I covered at the tail end of summer 2001 and into fall 2002. But today, as news of Casey Anthony's acquittal flashes across my computer screen - I think about a 13-month-old boy who drowned in a bathtub after his father left him there. The dad was surfing porn and downloading music off the Internet, not knowing that his actions would have tragic consequences.
Looking at the two cases is like comparing apples and oranges. Both are hideous crimes against children, but for the 13-month boy in my case - there was no elaborate cover up. The efforts of my town's EMTs and police officers tried to unsuccessfully revive the boy. The father was later convicted and although I don't remember all of the details of his sentence, one of the conditions was to write a letter to his son every year on the anniversary of his death for five years. That would have ended in 2007 or 2008.
Out of curiosity, I Google'd the name of this former defendant that I had known. He's still out there (he was only in his early 20s when his son's death had occurred) and the picture on his Facebook are of his two current children. I cannot say that they are cute - this is going to sound really bitchy, but the girl looks kind of goofy and the baby needs to grow into its face in that way that new babies do. But I hope that this fellow is now a good father. I need to believe that people learn ...
Is Casey Anthony guilty? It has always appeared so to me, but I haven't hung onto her case with the breathless anticipation that 25% of America did. I am now waiting for the announcement of a tell-all book that will net Casey Anthony a few million dollars and the made-for-TV movie that will star some C-list actress as the party-mom-turned-model-defendant. (With that long ponytail, I've been finding myself thinking more and more of the Mormon hairstyles on "Big Love." Seriously, that goes through my head.)
My cynicism when it comes to people like Casey Anthony ... it truly knows no bounds. I won't even write the snarky thought that went through my head when I saw that my former defendant had sprung two more children from his loins. (OK - yeah, I will ... I was thankful to see that they looked alive.)
But my cynicism stops when I think about the victims in these cases. Caylee, a Florida toddler and Logan, a 13-month-old who came from a very tumultuous relationship ... you're in a better place. The rest of us will remember you with love in our hearts. And we will continue to shake our heads at the people who brought you here in the first place.
Looking at the two cases is like comparing apples and oranges. Both are hideous crimes against children, but for the 13-month boy in my case - there was no elaborate cover up. The efforts of my town's EMTs and police officers tried to unsuccessfully revive the boy. The father was later convicted and although I don't remember all of the details of his sentence, one of the conditions was to write a letter to his son every year on the anniversary of his death for five years. That would have ended in 2007 or 2008.
Out of curiosity, I Google'd the name of this former defendant that I had known. He's still out there (he was only in his early 20s when his son's death had occurred) and the picture on his Facebook are of his two current children. I cannot say that they are cute - this is going to sound really bitchy, but the girl looks kind of goofy and the baby needs to grow into its face in that way that new babies do. But I hope that this fellow is now a good father. I need to believe that people learn ...
Is Casey Anthony guilty? It has always appeared so to me, but I haven't hung onto her case with the breathless anticipation that 25% of America did. I am now waiting for the announcement of a tell-all book that will net Casey Anthony a few million dollars and the made-for-TV movie that will star some C-list actress as the party-mom-turned-model-defendant. (With that long ponytail, I've been finding myself thinking more and more of the Mormon hairstyles on "Big Love." Seriously, that goes through my head.)
My cynicism when it comes to people like Casey Anthony ... it truly knows no bounds. I won't even write the snarky thought that went through my head when I saw that my former defendant had sprung two more children from his loins. (OK - yeah, I will ... I was thankful to see that they looked alive.)
But my cynicism stops when I think about the victims in these cases. Caylee, a Florida toddler and Logan, a 13-month-old who came from a very tumultuous relationship ... you're in a better place. The rest of us will remember you with love in our hearts. And we will continue to shake our heads at the people who brought you here in the first place.
Thursday, June 30, 2011
Just random thoughts ...
I've been reading a lot lately. A lot ... and it is good:
Reading "The Mists of Avalon" by Marion Zimmer Bradley. Some magazine columnist had talked about how this book had transformed her life ... kind of like the first time that I discovered the Harry Potter books. I'm not feeling "transformed" yet, but I've been having this weird sense of deja vu. And that's when I remembered that one of the cable networks (TNT, I believe?) had adapted this book into a mini-series that I've watched. And enjoyed. So ... that works.
I've been OBSESSED with the books of JT Ellison lately ... she writes the Taylor Jackson series of murder mysteries and I've actually exchanged a few tweets with Ms. Ellison. She's a solid writer.
"True Blood" is back and I just finished the latest book in the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris - "Dead Reckoning." Although I love the TV series (ahem, Alexander Skarsgard), I'm kind of an ornery purist when it comes to the books and I wish that Alan Ball was a little more faithful to the books. Then again, he gave me Alex Skarsgard. I guess I can't be too ungrateful.
I have Steig Larsson's book "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" and I want to see if I'll get sucked into that like everyone else in America. I also have Stephen King's latest story anthology to start reading ... thank God for the public library.
So now you know what I've been doing instead of cooking lately. :)
Reading "The Mists of Avalon" by Marion Zimmer Bradley. Some magazine columnist had talked about how this book had transformed her life ... kind of like the first time that I discovered the Harry Potter books. I'm not feeling "transformed" yet, but I've been having this weird sense of deja vu. And that's when I remembered that one of the cable networks (TNT, I believe?) had adapted this book into a mini-series that I've watched. And enjoyed. So ... that works.
I've been OBSESSED with the books of JT Ellison lately ... she writes the Taylor Jackson series of murder mysteries and I've actually exchanged a few tweets with Ms. Ellison. She's a solid writer.
"True Blood" is back and I just finished the latest book in the Sookie Stackhouse series by Charlaine Harris - "Dead Reckoning." Although I love the TV series (ahem, Alexander Skarsgard), I'm kind of an ornery purist when it comes to the books and I wish that Alan Ball was a little more faithful to the books. Then again, he gave me Alex Skarsgard. I guess I can't be too ungrateful.
I have Steig Larsson's book "Girl With the Dragon Tattoo" and I want to see if I'll get sucked into that like everyone else in America. I also have Stephen King's latest story anthology to start reading ... thank God for the public library.
So now you know what I've been doing instead of cooking lately. :)
Friday, May 20, 2011
And the winner is ...
My dear friend Anne Polta!
Here was Anne's "mom" advice that was shared on the ShelleyBakes page on Facebook:
"My favorite mom story? Hm. One of her pieces of advice was 'never buy chicken on Monday.' When I attended Linda's bridal shower several years ago, we were asked to share advice from our mothers, so that's what I shared... and everyone was just screaming with laughter. But guess what... I do not buy chicken on Monday, ever."
Just a little side note ... I've known Anne since I worked as a rookie reporter in Willmar and she is very dear to me. Not only did she put up with me when I was a young(er) punk, she is also my beloved cat's "godmother" of sorts. Ten years ago when the Cat came into my life, she's the person I turned to for advice. She is a great mom to kids of the four-legged variety. :)
AND ... she's a blogger. You can find her blog "HealthBeat" here.
Thanks to all who commented! I really appreciate it!
Here was Anne's "mom" advice that was shared on the ShelleyBakes page on Facebook:
"My favorite mom story? Hm. One of her pieces of advice was 'never buy chicken on Monday.' When I attended Linda's bridal shower several years ago, we were asked to share advice from our mothers, so that's what I shared... and everyone was just screaming with laughter. But guess what... I do not buy chicken on Monday, ever."
Just a little side note ... I've known Anne since I worked as a rookie reporter in Willmar and she is very dear to me. Not only did she put up with me when I was a young(er) punk, she is also my beloved cat's "godmother" of sorts. Ten years ago when the Cat came into my life, she's the person I turned to for advice. She is a great mom to kids of the four-legged variety. :)
AND ... she's a blogger. You can find her blog "HealthBeat" here.
Thanks to all who commented! I really appreciate it!
Sunday, May 15, 2011
A good gift idea ...
I'm sorry that I didn't publish this before Mother's Day, but I was actually trying to surprise my moms this year instead of doing what I usually do. Which is not keep surprises very well. Because I'm just verbal and can't keep anything a secret.
Anyway ... this is a great gift idea for birthdays, upcoming graduation parties or if you just want to surprise someone you love with a gift that's heartfelt and hand-crafted.
This one's mine ... I just can't get over the colors ...
Here's another one ... Cathy includes a ribbon to wear, as well as a black cord that fastens. It's good for folks like my mother-in-law who have metal allergies.
Here's some information about Cathy from the SEMVA Gallery, which is a gallery in Rochester that represents visual artists from southeastern Minnesota. These necklaces are available at SEMVA for my Minnesota peeps. Or I can connect you with Cathy - just drop me a note at shelleybakes@gmail.com
And because I really like all of you and because Cathy was generous enough to gift me with an additional necklace - it's giveaway time. Here's the rules ... leave me a comment on here or on the ShelleyBakes page on Facebook that tells me your favorite "mom" story ... either one that involves you with your momma or a mom moment with one of your kids (four-legged included). Make sure it's not too cringe inducing, because she might just read this ... :)
In terms of which necklace it is - it's whatever one that Ryan didn't choose to give to his momma. At press time, I don't know which one he's going to give her ...
The giveaway ends on Friday, May 20th at 5 p.m. CST. The winner will be drawn at random. Likely by my husband.
Anyway ... this is a great gift idea for birthdays, upcoming graduation parties or if you just want to surprise someone you love with a gift that's heartfelt and hand-crafted.
These little dainties are made by my dear friend Cathy. I cannot say enough about my friend Cathy, but if I was going to start, I would tell you that she's an amazing cook/baker and an incredibly talented artist. She's one of those people that I pinch myself for knowing to make sure that I'm not dreaming of this very cool person who I call friend. Yeah - I'm pretty fond of her.
Anyway ... these necklaces represent a recent creation of Cathy's which miniaturizes some of her watercolors so they can be turned into pendants.
Here's some information about Cathy from the SEMVA Gallery, which is a gallery in Rochester that represents visual artists from southeastern Minnesota. These necklaces are available at SEMVA for my Minnesota peeps. Or I can connect you with Cathy - just drop me a note at shelleybakes@gmail.com
And because I really like all of you and because Cathy was generous enough to gift me with an additional necklace - it's giveaway time. Here's the rules ... leave me a comment on here or on the ShelleyBakes page on Facebook that tells me your favorite "mom" story ... either one that involves you with your momma or a mom moment with one of your kids (four-legged included). Make sure it's not too cringe inducing, because she might just read this ... :)
In terms of which necklace it is - it's whatever one that Ryan didn't choose to give to his momma. At press time, I don't know which one he's going to give her ...
The giveaway ends on Friday, May 20th at 5 p.m. CST. The winner will be drawn at random. Likely by my husband.
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