she's just saying...

Just how good is life, anyway?

If you're a diligent reader of this blog, you may know that I really dislike the t-shirts and caps and bumper stickers that proclaim in happy-go-lucky type that "Life is good." 

Life is good: it must be true 'cause it's trademarked.

I feel it smacks of self-satisfaction and complacency, a sort of thumbing the nose to much of the world who is struggling to get by day to day. Or maybe I'm oversensitive.

Anyway, tonight, after I put away the groceries and was starting dinner, I realized I didn't have any onions. In my cooking universe, that's akin to not having olive oil, lemons or tomatoes -- I can't go on. So I went outside and called down the street to where a pack of boys were skateboarding. "Henry! Here's a dollar - run down to the farm stand and get me a yellow onion." Surprisingly (he's 13), he grabbed the dollar and skated off with the pack following. As I walked back up the street, enjoying the late summer air we've been briefly blessed with, I thought to myself: you know, at this moment, life is good.

To be continued...

Cranberries Go Tex-Mex

Yes this is a repeat. So sue me.

This is my all-time favorite cranberry sauce. I bring it to every Thanksgiving gathering, mostly for me. It adds a surprising and welcome contrast to the typical Tgiving menu, and goes great on cold turkey sandwiches as well. Warn the children, however - it's spicy.

TEX-MEX CRANBERRY SAUCE

INGREDIENTS: (approximate)
1 bag of cranberries
cup of sugar
cup of water
up to 1 chopped jalapeno, or about 1/4 cup canned, chopped
1-2 scallions, sliced
1+ tablespoon cilantro
1+ teaspoon cumin
2+ teaspoons lime juice

DIRECTIONS:
Combine water and sugar in a medium saucepan. Bring to boil; add cranberries, return to boil. Reduce heat and boil gently for 10 minutes, stirring occasionally. Remove from heat, gently stir in all the other ingredients and modify heat to your taste. This keeps forever in the fridge.

Skunk work

 

My brother's "conservation of bustedness" theory goes something like:  when you fix something, something else has to break, to keep the level of bustedness balanced. So of course when I fixed my car headlight (for the third time in three years), the burnt out driveway light, the leaking hose faucet and the screen door where Bindi busted through, something big had to go wrong. Which is that a skunk moved in under the deck.

Actually, I think a critter has been living there for some time as my previous dog showed a lot of interest in that corner of the deck, but I always assumed it was a family of brave mice (given the cat ratio in the neighborhood). But the other evening, I saw a large skunk waddling around checking for possible compost leavings before he scooted back under the deck again. Because as you know, skunks are crepuscular. (One of those cool words you learn in a wildlife museum. Look it up.)

After an initial panic, I called a number of wildlife control companies. Oddly enough, none of them seemed very eager to help me with this problem. The first one quoted me an astronomical figure to dig all around the deck and install chicken wire. When I expressed surprise at the price, he asked me if I just moved here from Mexico. Random, and belligerent, so I moved on. The second guy made and broke an appointment, then confessed he wasn't really comfortable with skunks, in spite of being certified by Oregon Wildlife to remove them. The third said he'd trap it for $180. However, due to state laws, he'd either have to release it on the property or euthanize it, neither of which work for me.

It all seems too much to deal with, frankly.  So I'm contemplating the live and let live approach.

Pepe Le Pew hasn't bothered us yet, really. If he's been around for awhile, he's got to be a pretty comfortable with our family;  kids, dogs, cats and I all hang around on the deck and back patio. I spray the hose and entertain, Bindi barks and pees, cats sprawl and kids pound across it while yelling and shooting water guns. Or maybe he's a really sound sleeper.

The potential downside is that Bindi, who isn't the sharpest pencil in the box but has plenty of enthusiasm, will spot it and chase. I've had dogs skunked before and lived through it, but it's no fun for anyone. While I'm figuring out what to do, I've researched the best skunk smell removal formula and laid in some hydrogen peroxide, just in case.

I've started a mild harassment program to gently convince the skunk that he'd be more comfortable elsewhere. Various suggestions I've found include sticking balls of ammonia-soaked rags under the deck, applying cayenne pepper solution around the den, putting dirty socks by the entrance (I'll need Henry's assistance with that one), installing a flashing red beacon or using commercial "predator urine" repellents. In the meantime, I've trained a light on the entrance to his den and am thinking about playing a radio there all day. Rap music, probably. Or heavy metal - that would make me move.

Fiddlehead!

I'm feeling very earthy and springlike today, though it appears to be snowing outside again. I just got a precious pound of fiddlehead ferns. Fiddleheads are tightly spiraled fern fronds, not yet unfurled. These alien-looking curls are only available for about two weeks in May - that's it, so if you haven't gotten any yet, you're out of luck.

They are a New England delicacy in my mind, but here they are in Oregon. I scored mine from the Agricultural Connections, a community-supported agricultural group here in Bend who have some adventurous vegetable offerings as well as the basic stuff.

People describe fiddleheads as tasting a bit like asparagus, but they really don't. They taste very green and deep and mysterious, with an addictive texture and crunch. Trim, rinse and blanch, then saute with butter, salt & pepper, a little lemon and maybe some garlic. I served them over angelhair (seemed fittingly delicate), and maybe ate too many last night.

I hear that warm weather has arrived elsewhere on earth, but here in the mountains, it's still a rumored event. The flowers and trees are doing their best and the late evening light is stirring up the animals, but it's still in the 50's most days. We're getting a little tired of it, but given the weather elsewhere I'm not complaining. I'll just eat my way to summer - I hear Paradise Farm Stand has morels again...

The greatest salesman in the world: my plumber

As promised, a plumbing post.

 

It all started with a slow drip. As you know from reading this blog, I consider myself handy, though when it comes to plumbing, my fix-it skills tend to worsen matters. So I waited until I collected a number of small plumbing projects and called my guy.

The first several things were routine: too much toothpaste as dried spackle in Henry's sink drain, a drippy faucet in the kitchen and a running toilet that just needed a new arm thingie. Also, the bolt on my toilet tank was leaking ever so slightly. Like a drip every few days. I just mentioned it in passing, really.

Several hours and hundreds of dollars later, I was the proud owner of a new toilet and garbage disposal, and was seriously contemplating a new faucet system. I'm not sure how that happened. And really, my life has not improved in any measurable way, something I expect when I spend $700+ dollars. But faced with the lurid graphic visuals of a garbage disposal rotting out and spewing all over the room and the toilet tank falling off, I had to act. Right? 

Now I fighting against calling the electrician. Who knows what I'll end up with?

Another evening on the farm

Every so often on this blog, I indulge in a little self-congratulatory strut. After all, it's my blog. It generally follows the same theme: most of the time I feel like a complete sloth and that the details of life are about to swallow me up, but occasionally I chance to look back and realize I just accomplished an impressive list of chores.

Last evening, after work and before bedtime, I accomplished the following:

• Took Bindi for a vet visit and to the dog park
• Made grilled salmon caesar salad for dinner
• Made banana cream pie (delayed from National Pie Day)
• Finished, washed and blocked a knitted lace shawl
• Did a load and a half of laundry
• Prepped a chicken for brining
• Cleaned out the fridge to fit in the pie and chicken
• Slaughtered a hog and framed the barn

OK, not the last two, but it felt like it. And then I wrote this blog post.

Photos of the shawl to come, because photos of a brined chicken and half-eaten banana cream pie are not that appetizing, really.

 

 

the cookie list

Sorry for the delay in posting. Some holiday or something intervened. As well as the intestinal flu.

But before I ended up prone and moaning for the last 24 hours on my parents' couch, I was busy knitting presents (mostly done - more on that at another time), shopping, cleaning up, making dinners, wrapping and most importantly, baking cookies.

Due to not being home for the holidays, I didn't get to the usual 5+varieties. Here's the final tally:

• Russian Teacakes
• Cocoa Rum Balls
• Peppermint and bitter chocolate frosted brownies
• Lemon Coconut Squares, not technically a Christmas cookie but by demand from MyBigBro

 Aunt Hattie's Squash Rolls made an appearance, plus your usual oyster stew, seafook paella, roast beef, chicken pot pie, apple crisp and go-withs.

Today we're snowed in, which is pretty cool actually in North Carolina, so we are canceling the one chance we had to go out to eat and are cooking at home again tonight. We're throwing in the towel and having waffles with chicken gravy.

Photo of something interesting here when I feel better.

 

 

The Knitmas tally to date

In the tradition of knitters everywhere, I cling to very optimistic views of what I can produce on deadline. I've been on the Knitmas train since early October, and here's the tally of finished objects so far (identifying details have been removed to protect the surprise):

• 2 hats (plus 2 more orphan hats that I rejected as gifts)
• 2 sets of fingerless mitts
• 1 pair of footwear
• 1 sock
• 1 cowl
• 1 scarf
• 1 bag
• 1 chapstick cozy
• 3 mini Santa hat ornaments (my version of procrastinating)

 I still have to finish: 1 scarf (halfway done), 3 hats (2 started so far), 1 sock and 1 set of mitts. There are six knitting days left until Christmas. Piece of cake, right?

I've already informed several recipients that they're not getting their gifts til after Christmas, so that buys me a little more time. Meanwhile, I won't be blogging, or doing much of anything but knitting with grim determination and focus. Other than taking four planes to North Carolina, setting up my parents' tree, baking cookies, making meals, doing errands and shopping and trying to keep Henry entertained. Should be a fun week! Really.

Note: this is not happening again next Christmas. Target gift certificates for all!

How are you all doing on your Christmas lists?

Top Ten Tues: Kitchen Implement Challenge

Great-Aunt Hattie's Squash Rolls, and a pie

First, a Thanksgiving story:

I was invited to a friend's home for the meal, and we planned a relaxed, mellow evening with kids and food. I offered to bake a pie and yeast rolls, and was asked to make the cranberry sauce as well. I provided a good bottle of wine, and we agreed we needed a vegetable, so I suggested I make this fantastic brussels sprouts and shallots thing. Turns out I was making quite a bit of the meal. On Tuesday the host family's new stove was delivered but unfortunately did not fit, so my oven was pressed into service for the turkey, stuffing and sweet potatoes that my friend made. Thursday morning, they dropped off the turkey, still in its plastic, two pans and went skiing. I spent the day mixing, baking, trussing, cooking and basting, and made the gravy too. I piled it all up in the car with Henry and we drove a few blocks for dinner. Once there, I whipped up the brussels sprouts dish and ended up carving the turkey as well.

At least I didn't have to do the dishes.

Luckily for all, I love cooking, though maybe not all day. The meal was fantastic of course, and we did bring home leftovers.

So, the challenge: here are some of the unusual tools I used on Thursday. How many of these do you have in your kitchen?  [Once again, #1Sister can't play as I know she has them all.]

1. Pie weights
2. Crust guards
3. Trussing screw
4. Turkey baster
5. Stock/oil separator
6. Dough-kneading board
7. Citrus zester
8. Meat thermometers
9. Flat whisk
10. Nut grinder

Home Sick

Today's the first day back after the school's Thanksgiving week off, and Henry stayed home sick. He complained of a headache and sore throat yesterday, enough that he didn't want to go to a movie. And this morning he begged to stay home.

At one point he had a temp that hit 101 deg., the "official" level at which you're supposed to keep kids home, but it subsided after Tylenol. He also complained that his abdomen hurt, which immediately set off the appendicitis alarms in me. Though within an hour, he was up eating Top Ramen and asking if he could watch TV. My rule is if you decide to stay home sick, you don't get TV, video games or the computer. That way malingering is not rewarded.

I'm never sure if Henry's really sick or if he just doesn't want to go to school. Given the choice, he'd stay home, as we all would, frankly. In the absence of clear signs of illness, I'm suspicious. It's mainly because I used to fake being sick to avoid school occasionally. How occasionally I'm not going to say as my mom does read my blog. (Sorry, Mom!)

Is it fair to question Henry's motives based on my own past behavior? He doesn't do this often so I tend to believe it that he doesn't feel well, but he also always seems to bounce back by mid-morning. This time he fell back asleep for several hours, woke up and read, and did his homework. Yep, definitely sick.

This is clearly not a real child.

Well-preserved

Kaiser in a can

48 jars and counting...

I've been canning up a storm. Not really sure what got into me this year, but at least it's been productive.

So far I've put up:

• Fig/Peach Preserves
• Tomato Jam
• Figgy Plum Compote
• Peaches in Bourbon Sauce
• Vanilla Applesauce
• Spicy Peach Salsa
• Fruit and Tomato Chutney

My main challenge now is where to store it all. I'm worried that the garage gets too cold - could the jars freeze and crack? Maybe under my bed. Though it kind of creeps me out to have food, no matter how well preserved, in places not normally designated for it. I need to dig a root cellar! I'll put it on my list.

Many of the 48 jars will be holiday gifts for neighbors and co-workers (none of whom read my blog so I'm not ruining the surprise). The jars are probably more expensive than the contents, at about a dollar each, and I wouldn't mind having them returned. I'm a little unclear on the etiquette for asking for them back so that probably won't happen. Maybe a little label saying: "Return this jar to be filled with more goodies next year"?

I think the canning frenzy is almost over, especially as my special source of almost-overripe fruit is winding down (sob). I still have a couple bags of apples and pears and that should do it. My vision is a relaxed, mellow Christmas season as I pass out beautiful jars of bright gleaming fruit to the masses. It'll never happen, but at least I'm a bit closer...

 

PS: Only one comment in 12 days? Is it over between us?

Yes, we can!

Even though I'm known to jump on the trend train, I hate it when something I've done forever suddenly becomes the latest cool thing and I seem like just one of the nouveau crowd. Knitting was one example, except I love that there are new hip young dedicated knitters (a la Ravelry, the knitting social site, that I'm addicted to). So that's not really an example. Never mind.

What I'm referring to here is canning food. I've canned food since my twenties, when I had a weird episode making ketchup, which (ketchup) stayed around seemingly for years. It was delicious, actually - more like tomato relish/chutney with a ketchup texture. But how much ketchup does one need?  We ended up ditching it in the middle of the night in the garbage. I've regularly made peach jam and tomato sauce over the years - good for Christmas gifts and makes me feel like a traditional and practical farmer's wife from the midwest, none of which I am.

So this year is no exception. Adam calls me when he has tomatoes and peaches that are no longer saleable so I have a direct pipeline to the raw foodstuffs. I've been canning the usual suspects and have branched out to the peach salsa and tomato jam shown above as variations on the theme.

"Apparently canning and preserving are back big time," Lynne Rossetto Caspar is saying, as I type this, on "The Splendid Table." How annoying, seriously.

So far I haven't sickened anyone with botulism, yet. I use the hot-water-bath method, both for the jars and myself, and that seems to work. I haven't graduated to a pressure cooker and probably won't, being one more random appliance to store. (We do have a cousin who collects them as yet another example of our family's weird collecting fetish. Though I suppose they're more useful than some of the things we hoard enjoy...)

You do have to buy some equipment as shown here, but it's a small investment for the great feeling of pride and accomplishment you get as you realize you can provide for your family in the face of the upcoming apocalypse. You'll all be scrounging for scraps, and we'll be full of tomato jam and feeling smug.

The accoutrements of canning

 

Farm Stand Ratatouille

This is the time of year we get the best vegetables in Central Oregon. Stop at Paradise after work, grab all the ingredients and you've got a one-stop, one-pan meal.*

The traditional recipe for ratatouille calls for sauteing each vegetable separately, combining them and baking. But that's not going to happen around my house. So this more a description of how I cook vs. a recipe, and you should modify as you wish. 

1 eggplant  

1 big yellow onion

2-3 zucchini

3-4 tomatoes

a few cloves garlic

Herbs and such: parsley, pepper, lemon juice, capers, thyme, rosemary as you like 

Note: some people add bell peppers, but never in this blog...

Slice eggplant into 1 inch slices, salt both sides and drain in a colander for at least a 1/2 hour. (If you don't have time you can skip this step, but the eggplant will be mushier.)

Meanwhile, slice the onion and cut the slices in half and saute in olive oil in a large deep skillet for 15 minutes or so.  Add the garlic now so it doesn't burn.

Slice the zucchini in 3/4 inch rounds, cut them in half, add to onion.

By now the eggplant should be drained. Wipe the salt off and blot hard with paper towels, then chop into 1 inch cubes. Add to pan. Let the zucchini and eggplant cook for awhile before adding the tomatoes.

Slice the tomatoes in half, squeeze out the seeds, chop and add to the pan.

Let everything bubble along for a bit til it's the consistency you like. Add flavorings from above list as you like and serve!

The great thing about this dish is that it gets better in the next few days, it's great at room temperature, and goes with everything. I like it with couscous, or just good crusty bread, a little red wine and some fresh basil sprinkled on top.

*Olive oil, bread and wine not available at Paradise. Darn.

The loudest goldfish in the world

Normally I don't need the alarm clock to wake up: I have pets. They all start bugging me about 6 am: the dog has to go out (only the third time of the night), the cats are bored and the goldfish is hungry.

Our goldfish lives in a big tank in the living room, where we provide him sensory stimulation and he provides us with the pleasant sound of trickling water through his filter. He's a basic goldfish - after the heartbreak of the fancies, we went for a simple yet sturdy variety. We've had him about two years now. He started out small with black and gold stripes; hence the name "Tiger." He's now about three times as big, has grown out of his stripes but kept the name.

Contrary to YrBigBro's comments about goldfish having no memory, Tiger is very smart and aware. He plays in his air bubble column, has favorite corners to sleep in and lets us know when he's hungry, which is a quite a few times a day. He blows loud bubbles at the surface which can actually wake me up from the other room. I don't think I'm anthropomorphizing when I say he's got a distinct personality. (If you want anthropo-whatever, just ask #1 Sister about the complex emotional relationship between her frog and snail. Now that's creepy.)

I may be the oldest in the house, but I'm not in charge. I serve at the pleasure of the children and animals who coinhabit the home. They constantly need to eat, play, cuddle, be cleaned up after and be let in/out/driven someplace. My role is to work to provide for their needs and take care of them when not working. I realize I created this situation. I'm not complaining. I'm just... saying, I guess.

 

 

The conservation of bustedness

Part of my August blog-cation: rerun from August 2008 (as are the first 3 comments...)

My big bro Steve has always espoused the theory of the "conservation of bustedness." In essence, it means that if you successfully fix something, something else must break. I always thought it was one of his semi-serious paranoid delusions, but allow me to pour myself a BIG glass of wine and tell you about my day.

I won't talk about Mary-who-stays-with-me-weekends's 55-pound puppy who frolicked in my carefully landscaped pond, tried to pick up the kitten with her "soft" mouth, ripped up Flash's special frisbee and chased both my cats, all before noon. No, this is about the smoke alarms.

I have seven interconnected smoke alarms in my four-bedroom home. That means when one goes off, the others all chime in helpfully. Today one of them went off (false alarm) but of course we couldn't tell which. So Mary and I ran around with our fingers in our ears changing the old batteries, and thought that was the end of it. Of course, fixing them meant something else had to go bust (according to the theory), so when cleaning up the mud the ladder left behind, I realized my fancy-schmancy vacuum cleaner could barely suck through a straw. Then a smoke alarm went off again (with all new batteries!) so we went running around trying to pinpoint the offender again.

Meanwhile, Flash (just a tad neurotic) panicked over the alarms, bolted out of the house and down the street, the labrador puppy gleefully following. We had to drive around the neighborhood for some time til we located them, brought them home and tried to figure out the smoke alarms again. Of course we couldn't pull the car all the way into the garage because Henry's bike was in the way (did I mention I ran over his bike Friday and had to get it fixed for $99?). Henry came back from looking for Flash and pushed the garage door closer which began to bang rhythmically on the roof of my car, having run off its rails and gone berserk, finally crumpling in defeat.

So now I need new smoke alarms, a new garage door and a vacuum repaired. How was your Sunday?

ABC: Always Be...

...Cleaning. (Apologies to David Mamet)

That appears to be my mantra. Or at least my constant activity. I'm always wiping, sweeping, washing, straightening and de-cluttering. Then why is my house still messy? It appears to take constant upkeep.

I don't consider myself a neat freak - far from it. As I've explained here before, my goal is always that my house is presentable enough for visitors at any time. Not every room or every corner, but the main areas. People are always stopping by, dropping off kids or picking Henry up. And I go to their homes constantly as well. I'm always impressed by how neat everyone else's place is. How do they manage it?

Maybe they don't have multiple pets and neighbor kids running through all day. Or maybe they have really helpful husbands. Hey, it's possible.

Does everyone feel this way? Am I obsessive? If so, why isn't the place cleaner?

Weeknight Caesar

One of my go-to meals is Caesar Salad.

(BTW, it's one of my pet irritations to see Caesar spelled wrong on menus. So annoying.)

I've made CS since I was in college and it's always a hit. It's a 10-minute recipe, perfect for the casual-but-impressive spontaneous entertainment meal you want to be known for. So, in the spirit of giving back to my wonderful supportive readers, I'm sharing it here.

(This is actually the classic Caesar recipe - I just explain how to cut corners and make it quick.)

Quick-but-Authentic Caesar Salad

all amounts are approximate - adjust to your taste

• 3-4 anchovies, smashed, or 2 tsp anchovy paste
• 1 coddled egg (see note below)
• 2 tsp Worcestershire sauce
• 1/2 cup olive oil
• juice of 1/2 lemon (or more - I like a lot of lemon)
• 1/2 tsp dijon mustard
• 1tbsp garlic (I use jarred minced)
• salt and pepper

• head of romaine, ripped into bite-size pieces
• 1/2 cup grated parmesan
• croutons (optional)

Place first eight ingredients into a jar and shake hard. Pour over lettuce, add cheese and croutons. Serve with more salt/pepper. Done!

You can top with chicken, shrimp or salmon. 

Note: to coddle an egg: tuck it into bed with a blankie and a cup of tea. Or alternately, boil it for about a minute. When you crack it open, it should be just starting to emulsify - you'll need to mash up the whites a little. If you don't like to eat raw eggs, you could chop a soft-boiled egg, but it won't be the same. Can't help you here.

Note #2: We keep a mouli grater pre-loaded with parmesan in the fridge in a plastic bag. It's always ready to go for fresh grated parmesan.

Family memory: When Doctor Sister was pregnant and living in Princeton and I was in NYC, she'd beg me to come down on the train on the weekend to make Caesar salad to satisfy her anchovy craving. Funny.

Multi-tasking while doing nothing

Our school year was just cut by two days as of immediately, and it just hit me that I need to produce year-end gifts for Henry's wonderful teachers by Tuesday a.m. The great Mr. G. will probably get a giftcard with a personal note. Miss T., who's been Henry's advocate, cheerleader, biggest fan and confidante, needs something extra-special. So of course I picked up the needles and cast on. Goal: finish a market string bag in the next two days.

I picked pattern, yarn and needles already on hand and am knitting furiously while watching the World Cup.  That background whining horn sound during the game is driving me crazy though, so I'm watching the game on mute and listening to the Phillies/Red Sox game on the computer while knitting a lace pattern at the same time. I can't attest to the final result.

(It's a vuvuzela and according to Wikopedia is "associated with permanent noise-induced hearing loss, cited as a possible safety risk when spectators can't hear evacuation announcements, and potentially spreads colds and flu germs on a greater scale than coughing or shouting.") Not the pleasant summer murmur of baseball, for sure. More like an approaching swarm of killer bees.

Anyway, everything's on hold while I finish this project. Parents out there, weigh in on year-end teacher gifts: pro or con?  Suggestions?  Favorites? Discuss, while I knit on.

 

Why is leaving so hard?

To those of you hoping for a relationship update, sorry - this is about traveling.

I'm headed to LA for a week (aww, poor me) for a museum conference, which should be a lot more fun than it sounds. Lots of big parties after-hours at various museums, we're staying in a fabulous hotel,  and hopefully have some time off to enjoy ourselves. The only obstacle is that I have to leave town.

For a single mom with pets, traveling is a pain in the patootie. Organizing myself is hard enough, not to mention being gone from the office for a week while continuing to manage projects. But organizing an 11-year old, two cats and a geriatric dog for a week on their own is like planning a military invasion.

I know. Very little sympathy from you all. So I'll move on from whining to packing.

We have five work days including a fairly important meeting, three big parties plus relaxing time. All in a carry-on. I've been fascinated by a slide show on the NYT website in which a flight attendant demonstrates how she packs. It's all about rolling. You tightly roll everything you can, and you fit much more in a bag. She supposedly fits the following in one carry-on for a 10-day trip:

"...three pairs of shorts, three pairs of dress pants, one skirt, three pairs of casual pants or jeans, three nightgowns, three bathing suits, one sarong, three lightweight sweaters, four dresses, 10 casual shirts, six dress shirts, a clutch, toiletries and two pairs of shoes. She’ll wear the third pair of shoes, as well as jeans and a longer sweater."

Hmm. First, I don't think I own that many clothes. Second, she must be a size 0. Third, I frankly don't believe it. And who needs three swimsuits, three nightgowns, 11 pairs of pants, four dresses and 20 shirts/sweaters for 10 days? Are you kidding me?

But I've been carefully watching her technique and am going to try it. Here's my meager collection so far. I just can't find room for the sarong. Maybe I'll wear it on the plane.

Top Ten Tues: Things I can't live without

I just got a hair iron which I'm in love with and which has changed my life, if a new hair style can change your life, and I do believe it can. I already can't imagine life without it. So that made me think of the other things I use every day that I can't live without. (Actually things I think I can't live without, but have and could, of course.)

The criterion I used is whether I'd replace these things if they break. And I already have with many of them. Plus, this doesn't count computers - they're like the stove or something.

So here's my list.

1. Hair iron, of course
2. KitchenAid stand mixer
3. Insta-Hot instant hot water dispenser
4. Clothes steamer - no ironing!
5. Tivo, at least one
6. Garage door opener
7. Canon PowerShot SD 1100 IS Digital Elph (is that a confusing enough product name?)
8. MLB.TV (baseball games on my computer)
9. Palm Pre, though I'm weakening on this
10. Hot tub

       

Only her hairdresser...