she's just saying...

Eggs of all colors

These beautiful eggs are from the chicken flock at the Museum.

Why do we have chickens at a Museum, you might ask. Well, I'll tell you.

The museum has a "living history" component, in other words, actors who dress up in 1870's clothing and interact in character with the visitors. We have a homestead with a cabin, barn and stable where they hang out. Included are wild mustangs, heirloom goats (not kidding) and chickens. Therefore, the eggs.

Their subtle varied hues are so beautiful that we didn't need to dye eggs this year. We're admiring them til tomorrow, then we'll eat them and appreciate them from the inside.

A perfectly pleasant weekend

Saturday morning started with a long walk in the sagebrush with Mary and the dogs - an activity we've enjoyed for 12 years, on and off. Brisk and invigorating (Mary has long legs). I then brushed a pound of hair off the dog which always makes him all giddy and silly for some reason.

Mary (my occasional-housemate) has bought her own place so moved her stuff out of my spare bedroom. We'll really miss her, but I did gain back a room. I spent the rest of the day reclaiming it, moving in the Wii, books, knitting stuff, ironing board, etc. That was absurdly rewarding, and got me to organize bookcases, magazines, projects and knitting stash. As a result, my bedroom is now much less cluttered and more relaxing. I then finished every knitting project on the needles - a first in a long time. Mellow evening at home with a movie, Henry and his sleep-over friend, and a solitary sojourn in the hot tub.

Sunday I baked for breakfast, then had fun with the wet/dry vac for an hour or so. I discovered that it blew as well as sucked, so I blew all the leaves and needles from the winter off the deck, terrace and porch. Nice! Next I sucked out the old nasty pond water from the waterfall, found the leak in my liner and patched it. I filled the pool, set up and started the pump and was rewarded for all my hard work last year with the lovely sound of water down through the rock, between a trickle and a splash.  (Not a trash really, how about a splickle?)

It was (unseasonably) warm and sunny, so I sat on the terrace, enjoying the waterfall, knitting lace and drinking Pinot Gris while 10-yr-old boys played baseball in the front yard.

And you know what? I felt incredibly happy, and at peace.

And to top it all off, baseball season started.

Insta-hotty

When they built my house, they installed an "Insta-Hot." It's an environmentally-incorrect clever little appliance set into the sink that delivers almost-boiling water whenever you push the lever. It's great for tea, coffee and really really hot water. They're absurdly expensive, which I didn't realize until I had to replace the first one. I feel a little guilty about the energy use, but it's one of those little luxuries I appreciate each time I use it.

Last night the lever popped off, and being the handy gal I am, I took it apart to fix it. It's a puzzle with a number of tiny screws, rings, gaskets and such, but I've done it before and it's pretty easy. Unless you drop one of the crucial little specialized screws down into the little hole where it lodges just out of reach of tweezers, needle-nose pliers, sewing needles, sticky tape and the poultry skewer, my go-to tool for the trickiest repairs. Fiddling with various screws and nuts, I loosened the wrong one and set off a high-pressure geyser of water that hit the ceiling and sprayed all over the kitchen. We were instantly drenched - thankfully it wasn't the really really hot water. I frantically turned off all the various water handles under the sink (hmm - maybe I should have done that first) and surveyed the disaster scene. I sat in the puddle on the floor and started to laugh, frightening Henry even further.

Everything was soaked. There was an inch of water in all the McCoy vases on the shelves, paint literally peeled off the window sill, all the little pieces of paper held by magnets on the fridge were ruined, my cookbooks got sprayed, you name it. At least the african violets appreciated it.

The geyser did have the desired effect of pushing the little screw out. After everything was dried off, put back and the walls wiped down, I set about fixing the Insta-Hot again. And promptly dropped the screw into the little hole again.

At least I can say my floor is clean now.

April 1 breakfast

April 1 breakfast, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

I got Henry pretty good with this one.

I told him we were starting a new all-vegetable diet: no sugar, no dairy, no butter, which cuts out about 50% of his food intake.

His face fell as he started to work through it, though he did pick up a carrot and start chewing.

I know he's working on something for me for this evening. Luckily he's not very good at keeping a straight face.

He took a zucchini in his backpack for an April Fool's snack in class.

All the webbing on the interwebs

is right here:

So many choices! So many colors! So many applications! The mind boggles. Seriously, I love this site so much I'm looking around my home trying to figure out what else I can strap.

Nylon, polyester, polypropylene? Light, medium or heavyweight? Raspberry, camo or zebra print? D-rings, slides, snaphooks, cam buckles... I'm in heaven.

Thanks for the ideas and offers. I think I've found Strap Central.

Strapping on, buckling in and tightening up

Well, for all you people who thought this might be an exciting bondage post (or is it just me whose mind travels along those paths?), this will be a disappointment because it's about KNITTING! Peripherally at least.

As you may remember, I painstakingly knit my big sis an entrelac purse um, a few months ago. Knitted, felted, blocked. But months later, it's still awaiting a strap. We agreed that a webbing strap might be most comfortable (neck issues) and I found a purse strap set all ready to go with nice hardware. But it wasn't adjustable, and I couldn't figure out how to sew the rings on without a bunch more work. Let me just say here that I'm really tired of looking at this purse.

So, inspired by my nylon briefcase, I decided to go get the adjustable ring hardware and do it that way. After hours on the internet ("she has no life!"), I found out the thing above was called a tri-glide, a center-bar, a rectangular slider, or a number of other labels, and you can buy them from buckleman.com. Not wanting to pay $7 shipping on a .45 cent item and wait, I went out to find one, and FOUR STORES later, I'm admitting defeat.

Popped into Joann Fabric and came up empty on the hardware, though props for the large webbing selection. At Michaels Crafts, nothing even close. Home Depot had industrial tie-downs that seemed a bit much. I then had a brainwave and hit Sportsman's Warehouse to find backpack straps/buckles. [Note: I'm always a bit apprehensive walking into a store that has on its signage: "Camping, Outerwear, Reloading."] They had a huge amount of bizarre and arcane implements of mass destruction, and actually came close to a buckle repair thing, but not really. So I gave up.

So, Susan, I apologize, but I'm now going to have to order on line and hope for the best.

Long division, the coin jar, and our tax dollars at work

I just spent the last hour and a half teaching the basics of long division, again. In that time, we did five fourth-grade division problems. And once again, I ended up hauling out the penny jar, counting out 47 or 65 or 128 pennies and helping Henry divide them into camp tents, soup pots, and ounces of milk, trying (again) to demonstrate the concept of dividing one thing into another.

I realize my boy has some kind of learning obstacle when it comes to math, or actually, arithmetic. He will appear to grasp a concept, then the next night seem to have never encountered it before. I know that his teacher (who I think is great and deserves a hero award) has to deal with this daily, times 27 kids take away 2 remainder 4 carry the 1 and subtract the divisor. His school has pulled together a "care team" meeting for him at least four times so far, consisting of the principal, his teacher, the special ed teacher, the counselor, the school evaluator, the school nurse, the janitor and me to discuss how he's doing and where to go next. I'm very impressed and grateful that our public school system is so thorough and is not letting kids fall between the cracks. But honestly, it's not helping.

The meetings are good, honest and efficient. The thrust, however, is that the school would rather not approve him for an IEP (individual education plan), which would trigger evaluations, tests, paperwork, follow-up meetings, accommodations, monitoring, and all kinds of state and local red tape that they would have to deal with. I realize they're overworked and overwhelmed with kids needing help. But, none of that matters when I have to explain the basic concepts of division at 7 pm on a school night while needing to do laundry, dishes, pet care, baths, cleaning, paying bills (and, of course, blogging!).

At one point tonight, after counting out 128 pennies and then putting eight of them into one of 16 cups, the thought crossed my mind that what the hell am I paying my taxes for, if I have to end up teaching school every evening. Now remember, I'm a knee-jerk, bleeding heart liberal, and I believe in taxing the citizenry for the common good and that the government is best equipped to manage our public resources. But, damn it, it's not working for us. And I'm in a very well-managed and well-funded school system.

What about the families who can't spend the evening re-teaching the basics? If they have another job, other kids, a sick parent, addictions, food "insecurity," no home or just no ability? How the hell do we expect our kids to learn enough to divide a gallon of milk into 16 cups?

Well, I certainly don't have a solution. I'm just realizing the problem. Henry's starting to hate school, feel like a failure, and turning negative. It will take all the effort the school can provide us to keep him positive and motivated, and I welcome the help. We can't afford a private tutor, so they're all I've got. I just pray it's enough.

To clean or not to clean: is that really the question?

Once again, I'm losing the battle in my fight against the evil axis of clutter, dust bunnies, projects and piles of paper. (I realize that there's a direct inverse relationship here: the greater my knitting and blogging output, the messier the house. I don't know why that should surprise me, but it just dawned on me tonight. It was during the thought process: "Geez, this house is really a mess... I think I'm going to finish that baby jacket. Or wait, maybe I'll just write about it!")

I really don't want to spend all my "free time" (ha) cleaning, but I'm not comfortable with the level of disarray that results. I'm conflicted. I blame it on my mother.

I grew up in a messy casual home, with piles of clothes and papers everywhere and toast crumbs and jam spills on the counter. As a reaction, as an adult with my own place, I strive to have the kind of home Henry's friends all seem to have, where visitors can drop in any time, there aren't hammers sitting on the dining room table and everything is tidy and spotless (albeit a bit dull, IMO).

On the other hand, clutter is in my genome, and cleaning isn't. So I have a constant tug of war with cleaning up and making a mess, picking up and spreading out. Sometimes I'm on the winning side and the house hums with organization and rectitude. Other times, it veers dangerously into the hovel state. Which is where it is now.

Back when I had a non-non-profit income and a house cleaner, all was under control. I had to pick up regularly for her (a family tradition: "Clean up for the cleaning lady!" which we thought was ridiculously funny.) Frankly, it was great. A lot of money went toward that peace of mind, which is now unavailable (the money and the peace of mind). 

After a full day of work, gathering Henry, cooking dinner, doing dishes and the inevitable homework/bed wrestle, cleaning is the last thing I want to do. So I wipe off the visible part of the counter, shuffle papers around, cart stuff from room to room and move piles from chair to floor, not making much of a dent.

But here I am, writing to you, and I've made a lot of progress on the Baby Surprise Jacket:

taking shape

Everybody good?

Wow, it's been very busy around here. Doing nothing can be a lot of work. We had a lovely Christmas day and after-Christmas day, and the weekend-after-Christmas is nice too. The weather has turned warm, slightly melting the eight inches of snow we got. At least it hasn't rained. Rain on Snow is my least favorite weather condition, bar none. It's so depressing. Anyway, more fluffy white stuff in our near future...

So first of all, here are the results of all that raw fish and fowl I displayed a few days ago. Grill roasted and smoked turkey, pate and gravlax. Recipes provided upon request.

This should keep us for a few days. On top of the mussels and oysters. And cookies. And wine. I'm still full.

Which leads me to the Wii Fit! Kind of fun, easy to use and interactive enough to keep my interest for a bit, I hope. I learned a trick to it for all you who have just received one: the first "body analysis" you have to count as practice and do again. My first one said my Wii Fit age was 65 (rude) and the second time was 35 (very perceptive).

It does seem to emphasize balance, probably because the platform excels at measuring weight shifts. I got the same snotty comments Kathi D got at the beginning: "Oh, you seem to have some problems with your balance. Do you trip frequently when you walk?" asked by a concerned and caring and quite annoying trainer. It's ok though - irritation is a great motivator. "I'll show you how good my balance is!"

More to come on that front. Oh, and Henry likes it too.

I can now reveal my Christmas knitting, almost. OK, one item is not done and another is awaiting a dog size, but the rest of it. I'll do that tomorrow.

Right now, it's back to doing nothing - a sluggard's work is never done.

CC #1: Food

Cooking is not always pretty. Behold:

From the upper right, that is a turkey brining, chicken livers marinating in brandy, and salmon curing.

But soon, all this raw meat will be transformed into grill-roasted turkey, chicken pate, and gravlax (salt/sugar cured salmon).

Mark and I have some menu standards we like at Christmas. Christmas Eve is always oyster stew and Caesar salad. Christmas dinner is roast turkey (with beef for the red-meat-eaters) with all the sides including yorkshire pudding; and throughout the week, generous servings of gravlax, pate, croissants with triple-creme cheese, cookies and champagne. It's what my sister calls the annual Holiday Food Plan -- Eat What You Want When You Want.

While I'm cooking today, this is the view from my kitchen window:

The snow is snowing, snow on snow. We're ready to be snowbound and enjoy our cozy little family unit.

Have a warm and bright Christmas eve, relax, don't sweat the preparation, and enjoy your friends and family. Read "The Night Before Christmas" to the kids or pets, savor those sugar plums dancing and reindeer prancing, put out the milk and cookies, and stay up wrapping til 1 am. Sleep tight and have a wonderful Christmas morning,

Love to all,

Melissa

 

CC #2: Cookies

I'm counting yesterday's from-the-road posts as Christmas Countdown #3: traveling. So, onto #2: COOKIES. Another element of what Christmas is all about to the Hochschild family.

Sister #1 tends to outdo herself with cookie baking every year. I think she does six types, five of which are classics and one new one each year. Or something like that. 

Since it's just Mark, Henry, me and assorted passers-by this year, I'm staying with four varieties, plus add-ins from neighbors.

Rum balls made with cocoa and vanilla wafers are a must. Also Russian teacakes, doubled.

Gingerbread men (which we've been known to decorate the day after Christmas), brownie bites frosted with peppermint icing, and oh, right, I made mixed nut brittle (NO peanuts) already which counts. Really, that's all.

Then, starting Christmas Eve, we prepare the Cookie Plate, which is refreshed all week.

Stop by to have some or I'll be forced to eat them into January like last year.

Such a problem.

Last year's plate

CC #6 (belated): Fambly Christmas

 This may be an off-year Christmas for my family. It's the first time in years that Sister #1 and I (and the kids) haven't had Christmas together, and I'm seriously bummed about it. This year was Henry's and my turn to fly back east, but after three trips back there already and a new job, it was not going to happen.

Sister #2 has an interesting relationship with Christmas. She's a converted Jew and they've raised their kids in a Jewish household, but old memories die hard, so she gives and receives presents at Christmastime slash Hanukkah. I'm always careful to wrap theirs in blue and white non-denominational paper. 

Big Bro is not in the Christmas mood this year, for various reasons. He'll be at the parents' house but both he and my mom have said they're not planning to do much for Christmas this year "except for the food." Of course, with my dad still in rehab and my mom coping alone, we don't expect her to have energy left for making merry. We're sending presents anyway.

It will be a quiet Christmas here, but we're looking forward to it. No travel, no guests; except our bestest friend Mark who's flying up from LA to be with us again - we've shared Christmas with him for seven years now. Mark's the fun, bad-boy uncle-figure for Henry, and a funny, supportive partner for me. We plan to play in the snow (Henry), drink a lot (Mark and me) and not do anything we don't want to. We might even (shock of shocks) go out for Christmas dinner. That to me would be the ultimate Christmas treat.

So, what are your plans? Full-on tradition or a more unconventional approach?

CC* #9: The Tree

*Christmas Countdown

 #9 in the 10-Day Countdown: Trimming The Tree

I was bumming that we got our tree so late this year, until I talked to Sister #1 this weekend, who was amazed we had it up "so early." For all the effort that goes into it, and for the wonderful feelings it evokes, I like it up for a month. But I was traveling, etc. so we got the tree last week.

Rather than going out in the woods and cutting one down, we usually drive to the nearest Tom's Trees lot and strap one on. This year, there was a (non-Tom's) tree lot at the bottom of our street and over a little bit. I decided our tree adventure would be walking down there and carrying our chosen tree home ourselves, Henry and me. Which we did, and enjoyed. From leaving the house to having the tree up in its stand was less than a half hour. Efficient and a memory! That's my kind of Christmas experience.

It sits there awhile, beautiful in its purity, til I haul out the boxes and begin the mini-light fight. God, I hate mini-lights. And putting them on the tree, to be truthful. A few years back I unfortunately read how Martha Stewart lights her tree, and have had to follow the master's teachings ever since. This involves running a light wire up EACH BRANCH and wrapping it back down again, then moving to the very next one. There are a million branches on your normal tree lot tree. Tedious, uncomfortable, and absolutely fabulous results. The tree takes on an inner dimension, with lights twinkling throughout the branches, adding depth and magic. Pain in the butt though.

Then the next step, putting on the ornaments. No one wants to help with this, I've learned, so I do it myself, indulging in my most obsessive-compulsive design tendencies. First the breakables, then fill in with a few choice non-breakables, stepping back frequently to assess the placement and balance. Then it's done. I turn on the tree, turn out the lights, drink a winter libation and enjoy the view.

Bob waits for Santa Claws

10 day countdown...going postal

Stealing a great idea from Hack Bend, I'm going to initiate a countdown to Christmas. Why? 'Cause I'm always looking for easy blog content, silly!

So, since I missed the 12 days of Christmas start date, I'm going to do the 10 days til Christmas, starting with:

10. Mail Anxiety

I've got to get packages in the mail immediately or pay the convenience cost of three-day shipping or less. Since each family member lives in a different state, it's a process every year, including finding small boxes and then bigger boxes, scissors and tape; wrapping, labeling and sealing; getting to the mailing store and getting the damned things out.  Weirdly exhausting. I normally wait til the last minute to try to include all the presents in one box, which include our family's tradition of buying a huge sockful of stocking gifts for each person. In the end, I usually turn to amazon.com to fill in the gaps, at its (very-convenient) pricey convenience charge.

So, enough of this blog-crastination. Time for Mr. Zip and me to get busy.

Not working out. Literally.

First, let me say, I love my new job. Love the museum itself, the staff, my boss, the work. Don't love the substantial cut in salary that moving to non-profit entailed. So, like the rest of the country, I'm looking for ways to cut my expenses.

I had already cancelled my housecleaner and my lawncare service, so no further savings there. I've cancelled HBO and cut back to one TIVO service (digital cable and TIVO are not up for discussion here). I no longer eat out or go to the movies, courtesy of a failed relationship, and we don't take vacations other than to visit family. My clothing budget is minimal and I color my hair myself. I've already refinanced, and paid off debt. So what's left?

Unfortunately, it was our health club membership. We've belonged to the Athletic Club of Bend for many years. It's a wonderful facility, with workout rooms, indoor and outdoor pools, tennis courts, fancy spa locker rooms, kid's daycare and camps, exercise classes, restaurant, deli, racquetball and more. We've practically lived there over the years, with Henry in the camps, playing at the pool all summer, my aerobics and weights classes, meals, concerts, etc. Lately, though, it was hard to get to the evening classes and we were using it less. It's been a major expense and I couldn't justify it.

I miss the cameraderie, the socializing, the classes, the steamroom, and the sense of belonging to an upbeat, active community. Henry misses the bagels, the foosball table, the pickup soccer games and summer camp. And we'll both miss the pool next summer - it was a mini-vacation at a resort every weekend.

And I miss working out. I've stopped doing anything lately, and my muscles and outlook are both suffering for it. I'm not very self-motivated about exercise, even though I was an aerobics instructor in my distant childless past. For me, classes work great due to the social pressure to keep going, a set schedule, varied enough routines and a peppy instructor exhorting you to squeeze out 20 more sit-ups.

So what to do? Can't run anymore. Walking is slow and boring. Plus it's too cold. I'm dangerous on a bike. The local public pool is too far away. (Hang on and I'll come up with some other excuses...)

So, don't tell Henry, but I've bought us Wii-Fit for Christmas. I've heard it works pretty well as a workout. Even if it is a Snoopy McSnooperson (according to Kathi D).

Does anybody have any other ideas?

"Amaryllis by Morning..."

Poetic license there. More like amaryllis by end of December, if I'm lucky.

Brrr! It was cold last year!

I love amaryllis. (I think the singular and plural are the same here). However, the better ones are absurdly expensive. Most years, I scrounge around trying to find bulbs on sale, but by that time, it's too late to have flowers by Christmas. I've also bought the "reject" started bulbs at our local garden centers - that works, but they come with pots and are pricey even on sale. And I always attempt to resurrect a few bulbs or plants from previous years, though normally I get tired of taking care of them by August and they wither away.

This year I found an amaryllis site on line (yes, this is how I spend my valuable free time) that had an assortment of 10 bulbs for a very reasonable cost. I prepped the potsand awaited the shipment, and they arrived Wed.

Very exciting. I'll post photos as they progress.

It's all about pie

Tgiving pies, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone.

How DOES she do it?

How does anyone do it? Take care of a home life while working full-time. Not to mention attempting to have a social life (of sorts).

Over my past nine motherhood years, I often get the comment "I don't know how you do it," referring to single parenting. I hear this most frequently from temporarily-single parents when their spouse is out of town. I always answer that it's easier if you know the situation going in and you have no other frame of reference. In other words, I've always done it alone, though admittedly with a lot of help some years (I'm talking to you, Mark!). It's just the way it is.

But there are times (okay, all the time) where I ask myself the same question. It's not just the routine stuff like laundry and dishes, it's the additional stuff that comes with running a life. I feel like if I stop for a minute; go out of town, go hiking for the day, attend more than one evening event in a week, it will all pile up and spill over on me like a jammed assembly line. And it never goes away.

I know -- stop the self-pitying time-wasting blogging and get up and do something! Or maybe I'll go sit on the couch and knit.

Putting the beds to bed

Fall arrangement, originally uploaded by Meltrier.

Spent the weekend doing yardwork, chopping down irises, raking the garden and feeling virtuous. Most years I look out in December at the soggy plants and messy beds and wish I'd gotten to it all. So this year I did. Amazing what you can accomplish when you're not in a time-consuming relationship.

This arrangement is completely from the garden. Yet to be added are two Casablanca lilies who inexplicably decided to bloom in mid-November. Flower arranging is a fleeting art form, kind of like ice sculpture. Since I don't yet have a chainsaw (unlike my friend Suzanne who bought herself one when her husband was out of town), I arrange flowers.

Top Ten: Happy Homemaker edition

Here's a quickie:

Top ten main dishes I make for dinner:

1. Pasta with pesto sauce. This is (strangely) Henry's favorite food. He'll eat it for breakfast lunch and dinner, and even after dinner. I have to buy the bulk jars of pesto from Costco in order to afford this. I add fresh tomatoes to get a little more nutrition in it.
2. Spaghetti with tomato sauce, homemade with turkey sausage added.
3. Pad Thai. This is easier than it seems, using jarred pad thai sauce. It uses a lot of pans though.
4. Fish tacos. Easy.
5. Caesar salad with grilled salmon. Another surprise is that Henry loves salmon. Praises be! I make a killer Caesar dressing that I've perfected over the last 25 years. Secret ingredients and all.
6. Lemon chicken stir-fried with veggies.
7. Zucchini risotto. My sister Susan's award-winning recipe, minus the heavy cream and 1/2 the butter.
8. Roast chicken on the grill. No clean-up.
9. Grilled teryaki tuna. Super easy, with Japanese sides.
10. When we're out of time, Spaghettios or chicken pot pie. For him, not me. I go to cheese, crackers and a glass of wine.

(PS: I don't eat beef or pork, which is why meatloaf isn't on the list. Henry can if he wants, but I don't cook it.)