more TSA Muzak

inspired by nikya one busy knife-ful monday morning. to the tune of "jingle bells"... you know you want to sing it aloud.

Dashing down the pier
with a suitcase full of knives.
I have to catch this plane
which leaves at half-past five.

I've flown with this before.
I don't have time for this.
Why do you people pick on me;
do I look like a terrorist?

Oh, TSA, TSA: all you people suck!
Thousands Stand Around all day just to make a buck.

TSA, TSA: all you people suck!
You only Throw our Stuff Away just to make a buck.

I wrapped my cash in foil
and shoved it down my pants.
You made me take it out;
what the hell is wrong with that?

You stripped me of my watch,
my cell phone and my shoes.
What else should I take off today?
Do my shirt and pants go too?!

(chorus)

TSA Holiday muzak

many people comment about how cheery i am at work. little do they know that it is a grand facade, designed to get me through the trying times, so i can go home and make fun of the stupidity in song. what i'm really thinking....

'The Christmas Song'
adapted for the workplace by kate

Laptops rolling down the x-ray belt,
crashing right onto the floor.
Gallon jugs of expensive shampoo
and strollers wedged in x-ray four.

Everybody's brought some kind of present wrapped up tight;
we can't see what is packed inside:
knives with keys next to wires on block cheese
with vibrating slippers aside.

They know it's time to board their plane.
Their bags are stuffed and loaded 'way beyond what's sane.
We know that every child is gonna cry
'cause mom packed Play-Doh & pudding (those can't fly).

And so I'm offering an Excedrin
Cause headaches shortly will ensue
May your lunches be long enough and your patience run thick:
Merry-happy-Christma-Channu-Kwanzi-kah, to you!




Twelve Pains of the Holidays
adapted for the workplace by kate

twelve things at christmas that are such a pain to me:

12 unwashed patdowns
11 pocket knives
10 zippered pockets
9 children screaming
8 folding strollers
7 foreign tongues
6 ladies corsets
5 No ID's!
4 ounce bottles
3 chainsaws
2 live rounds
1 cat in the x-ray machine

lemon clove cookies

 for those who have been asking and patiently waiting, i had a free moment. i give you the lemon clove cookie recipe, with and without sugar.

Lemon Clove Cookies
from McCormick's Cooking with Flavor

2 C flour
1/4 tsp ground cloves
dash salt
3/4 C (1-1/2 sticks) softened butter
1 C sugar
1 egg
1/2 tsp lemon extract

1. Combine flour, cloves & salt; set aside.
2. Beat butter & sugar on medium speed until light & fluffy. Add egg & lemon extract; beat until well blended, scraping sides if necessary. Stir in dry ingredients.
3. Divide dough in half. Roll into 2 logs, about 1-1/2 inches in diameter, about 9 inches long. Wrap in wax paper and refrigerate 1 hour or until firm.
4. Using a sharp knife, cut into 1/4 inch slices. Place on ungreased (or parchment covered) baking sheet. Bake in preheated 350* oven 12-15 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool on sheets 1 minute; transfer to wire rack to cool completely.


Sugar Free Lemon Clove Cookies
adapted from McCormick's Cooking with Flavor

2 C flour
1/4 tsp ground cloves
dash salt
3/4 C (1-1/2 sticks) softened butter
1 C Splenda
1 Tbsp honey
1 egg
1/2 tsp lemon extract

1. Combine flour, cloves & salt; set aside.
2. Beat butter, honey & Splenda on medium speed until light & fluffy. Add egg & lemon extract; beat until well blended, scraping sides if necessary. Stir in dry ingredients.
3. Divide dough in half. Roll into 2 logs, about 1-1/2 inches in diameter, about 9 inches long. Wrap in wax paper and refrigerate 1 hour or until firm.
4. Using a sharp knife, cut into 1/4 inch slices. Place on ungreased (or parchment covered) baking sheet. Bake in preheated 350* oven 12-15 minutes;cookies will not be browned. Cool on sheets 1 minute; transfer to wire rack to cool completely.

a two-way street

I've been mulling over my first week on full-time status and a few incidents and passenger statements have really just wedged in my craw. Everyone thinks that they, themselves, are infinitely special and should be allowed to skip the screening process just on their say-so. Really? A terrorist would completely agree with you on that one. Right. Self-screening on the honor system. Go ahead, pat yourself down and just tell the police you have an IED strapped to your thigh. I'd give terrorists about 32.7 minutes to jump on that one and then everyone would blame the government for not protecting them again.

According to the Transportation Security Administration's Civil Rights Policy Statement, "the public we serve are to be treated in a fair, lawful, and nondiscriminatory manner, without regard to race, color, national origin, religion, age, sex, disability, sexual orientation, status as a parent, or protected genetic information." What a mouthful. I have interpreted that statement to mean, "everyone," which expands back out to mean, "I am screening all of you to the same degree. None of you are exempt."

You have the right to be treated respectfully. While I cannot vouch for every one of the other 42,999 officers, everyone I work with treats passengers respectfully while maintaining the standards we are required to uphold. That little blue statement goes both ways.

* When you roll your eyes at me after I've suggested three times to put your cell phone through the x-ray machine and then you call me a bitch, you are the one out of line. Dude, I even said "please."
* When you slam your luggage on my hand and yell at me for "making you miss your flight" while I am trying to help you, you'll be unloading your belongings by yourself at the other end. I got up at 2am; I was here on time. I am not to blame for your initial tardiness.
* When you say to me, with your condescending smile, that I am ineffective and that making you disrobe completely before boarding your flight is a waste of your taxpayer dollars, I am more likely to remind you that There's Still Avis. And if you didn't wear 19 layers of clothing and boots that lace all the way up to your neck, accompanied by a collection of no less than 29 bracelets, necklaces, and earrings that could be used as paperweights, you would have far less to divest. Try one layer of clothes, a sweater, slip-on shoes, and pack the bling.
* If you can read your boarding pass and navigate the internet well enough to book a flight, you can read regulations on what to bring and what not to bring from TSA's website. Most airlines have links to that page from their websites as well. If you "haven't flown in years" and haven't educated yourself, then your bag check is your education.
* When you mis-read the website and decide that you can bring anything you like as long as it is in a plastic baggie, you will be given your options: go to the ticket counter and check your bag under the plane; mail each item to yourself at a ridiculous cost of $20 per item (the checkpoint mailers company is not in any way affiliated with TSA or any individual airport); take it out to your car if you can, or give it to someone who may have dropped you off; or voluntarily surrender it. That's right, I said surrender. No one is forcing you to throw it away. You can always just miss the flight, if your shampoo is really that important. Once you scream at me and throw that shampoo, you have just stepped into the bounds of "assault." Keep that in mind. Because if I'm not allowed to swear at you and throw things, I certainly will not stand by and wear my BarbieTM smile and let you. I can pretty much guarantee that my swearing will trump yours. Don't test me.
* Go read this. Then go watch that. Please step back and get your liquids, gels, creams, and aerosols out of my face. Even if it didn't happen here in America, it is still a legitimate threat. A terrorist can just as easily declare, "It's just hand lotion. What's so dangerous about hand lotion??? You people are so stupid."
* I am treating your grandmother with the utmost respect, but she is not exempt either. She may not want to harm a fly, but the truth is, other people in the world could care less about their elders, or family members who cannot protest or fight back. It's old news, but still relevant every day.
* When I tell you what is involved in the additional screening I am about to perform and ask you if you'd like a private screening in a provate room BEFORE we start, that is the best time to say yes. While you are still encouraged to tell me when and if you are uncomfortable, when we pick up all your belongings, haul them into a private (yes windowless) room and begin the process all over again, you can just hold on to all the complaining about how inconvenient it is to start over. You requested it.
* When you wrap wads of money in aluminum foil and tuck it into your underwear, I'm not going to ask you to drop your drawers to see it. I'm going to deny you entrance to the aircraft until you leave, with all your belongings, and remove it. Yuck. (And yes, I use hand sanitizer after handling money ALL THE TIME now.)
* When you deliberately wrap your box cutter or cologne in your dirty underwear to deter me from searching your bag, guess what? Your dirty underwear will be on display for everyone on the checkpoint to see. I will fan that bad boy out and run it through the x-ray so everyone can see what a pig you are. Then I will change my gloves, sanitize my arms and hands AND the bin AND the table befouled by you and move on with my day.
* Please do not attempt to interpret my x-ray images of your bag. You can't even see the screen. Crossing your arms over your chest, checking your watch, sighing dramatically and telling me that I am "a waste of time" does nothing more than distract me from clearing your bag. Most of the time I'm not even looking at the bag of the person making the loudest noise and insisting that "it's just a cell phone; my god, do you need better glasses or something??" So, um, yeah. It's not actually a cell phone and you wouldn't know, since it isn't your bag. I especially love to tell that passenger when it was a training bag and I actually caught a simulated IED. Eat that, buddy.

You have the right to be treated respectfully. And so do I.

caramel apple cake

from Easy Cooking the Costco Way, 2009

this cake was quite literally the perfect end to a fabulous fall day in our house. the sweet-tart of the apple combined with the creamy sweet caramel glaze had my i-don't-like-apples-boy begging for a second piece. the recipe calls for 5 apples, but i don't think i could have squeezed more than four into the pan without making it "apples with cake stuck to the sides." also, i baked mine in a bundt pan for look-at-me points. made the glaze look prettier than on a standard rectangle too.

cake
1 C packed light brown sugar
1 C granulated sugar
1-1/2 C vegetable oil (we use sunflower)
3 eggs
3 C unbleached all-purpose flour
1 tsp baking soda
2 tsp cinnamon
1/2 tsp nutmeg
1/2 tsp salt
2-1/4 tsp vanilla
4-5 granny smith apples, peeled, cored & chopped into 1/2-inch pieces
1-1/4 C chopped pecans or walnuts

1) preheat oven to 325* (300* for a dark pan). butter & flour a 9x13 pan.
2) beat sugars and oil until well blended and creamy. add eggs, one at a time beating well after each addition. stir together flour, and spices. gradually add to wet ingredients, mixing until just blended. stir in vanilla, apples & nuts.
3) bake for 50-75 minutes, or until a wooden toothpick inserted in the center comes out clean. a darker pan or bundt may take a bit longer with a lower temperature; check frequently. let cool in the pan (for 15 minutes and invert bundt cake onto serving platter.)

glaze
4 tablespoons butter
1/4 C sugar
1/4 C light brown sugar
pinch of salt
1/2 C heavy cream

4) melt butter in saucepan over med-low heat. stir in sugars and salt; cook for 2 minutes. add cream and boil for 2 minutes, stirring constantly.
5) poke holes in the cake with a wooden skewer. pour glaze over top. serve warm (divine!!) or at room temperature.

coupla camp'n recipes

at the behest of more than one reader, here are a couple of my kids' favorite camping recipes. judging by the number of requests for the soup, it looks like several families will be partaking of chicken noodle soup at our next pack trip!

*Creamy Chicken Noodle Soup*
2 C chicken stock/bouillon
2 cans cream of chicken soup
1 clove minced garlic
2 C chopped cooked chicken
1 C sliced carrots
1 C sliced celery
1/2 C chopped onion
1 T parsley
1/2 tsp thyme
salt & pepper to taste
2 C dry egg noodles

home prep: (i always freeze the meat and veggies i take camping because they double as ice packs in the cooler that way. i can re-use their dishes if i have any leftover soup as well.)
1) cook, chop & freeze chicken.
2) chop & freeze veggies.
3) cook & cool noodles. store in plastic baggie.
4) if using chicken stock, freeze that in quart-sized freezer bags. if using bouillon cubes, never mind.
5) combine dry spices in small tupperware container or snack-size zipper bag.

camp prep: (either propane stove or over the fire)
1) heat frozen stock first, if necessary. otherwise, combine 2 C water & bouillon cubes, add 2 cans of soup. stir til combined.
2) stir in dry spices. add veggies & chicken. heat through. add cooked noodles last.
3) heat 'til bubbly; it shouldn't take more than 10-15 minutes on a good fire. serve with biscuits or toast. serves 6.

FABULOUS on a cold, rainy trip. you can change up the veggies to your family's liking, of course, and if you prefer your soup thinner, just add more liquid. we like ours thick enough that it doesn't run off the spoon on its own. you can easily convert this recipe to a beef stew by changing the stock, veggies, & meat, but keeping the same measurements.

*Backpack Fudge*
1/2 C cocoa
16 oz powdered sugar
1/2 C butter
1 tsp vanilla
3 oz cream cheese

1) combine butter, cheese & vanilla in a gallon FREEZER bag. when squished together, add cocoa & sugar.
2) pass around the campfire and knead in the bag for 30 minutes. knead carefully so the bag doesn't burst! spread in pan and let rest for about 10 minutes. cut & serve. makes about 1 pound. VERY good.

kate's eights 10-7-09

 8) i started this week out on a fair note: i got up with my first alarm on sunday, which has not been happening lately. just tooooo tired to get up. i decided to treat myself to dunkin donuts on my last sunday/friday and there i found my precious: pumpkin donuts. YUMS! the day passed without so much as a burp in my happiness until about 9:50, which was right before quittin' time. an elderly stick-in-the-mud decided to start an argument over facial wash. without all the he said/she said, it was too big for the carryon. the end. but he decided to throw a fit about it. i remained calm and unflustered until he asked me my IQ. my supervisor (bless you, you saint) stepped in and told the guy to get his things and go, and stood my ground for me as i paced like an angry lioness down the terminal. you may not like the policies that i enforce, but do not dare to insult my intelligence. the IQ tests that i have taken, (because i have had reason to take more than one) average out to 137. i didn't know that was good until yesterday, when someone said that score was "borderline genius." wow. thanks, dude.

7) tomorrow begins my Hell Week, since my shift changes as of sunday morning. so i work my regular shift thursday, friday, saturday.... and start my new shift sunday, monday, tuesday. it's gonna be a long-loooooong week. may the gods have mercy upon any soul who thinks to piss me off on tuesday. and then management will announce whether i'm lucky enough to get full-time hours - and change my schedule again.

6) i woke up hungover this morning from 2 glasses of wine. i can't be serious, can i???

5) i counted out another 1K campbell's soup labels yesterday. which brings my total thus far to 3100... and i still have more. fortunately, once i have caught up with the bag of summer labels, i will be able to keep up with the weekly dropoffs a lot better. boxtops total (which will be going into the mail this week) is about 2300. i think. i can't remember and i can't be arsed to go upstairs right now and look. not bad for, like, 40 hours of work! :oP

4) my mother said something positive. i almost fell down in shock. maybe this new presidency is good for her, i dunno. she received a $100 whole foods gift card from the wife of someone she works with. she earned this little gem for transferring the contents of a floppy disk onto a flash drive. i know.... can i get some of that kind of work?? so she calls me and tells me she doesn't want to go to "this whole foods place," even after i told her all about whole foods and how lucky she was to have that gift card. she sent it to me in the mail with a card that read, "i'm not thinking of this as re-gifting, i'm thinking of it more along the lines of paying it forward." wow, mom. you don't know how profound that really was... especially for you. BOOO-YAH! i got a whole foods gift card!!

3) there is a branch literally hanging by a thread in my tree. it is about... 40 feet up and over a set of power lines. we contacted the power company last spring when it splintered and they told us they weren't concerned with it. with today's extremely high winds, it is now leaning heavily on the guide wire between poles. that bad boy is coming down soon. i can feel it. i just wish there was something i could do, aside from fork out $2K that i don't have to have a tree surgeon hack the whole tree down. i'll prolly sleep in the girls' room tonight just to listen. i don't want to be woken in the night by a fire alarm. apparently the lines back here have a habit of setting the houses on fire when they come down. so say the neighbors. *shudder*

2) my baby had her first homecoming this past weekend. we found her dress by fluke during back to school shopping. it was the perfect size and price, so we snatched it up. friday night, the mavericks delivered a sound spanking to the visiting team (who were also wearing orange); the score was 36-12 at the beginning of the 4th quarter when we left in the rain. trombones don't much like rain. saturday, after getting the girlie's hair did, we drove to bria's boyfriend's house, and brad's mom and i paparazzi'd them for about a half hour before driving the two to TGIFriday's for dinner. they sat at their own table on the other side of the restaurant from us. we dropped the cuties off at the dance and i collapsed into bed. i understand that someone else retrieved them, because she was here sunday when i got home from work. she danced so much, she ruined the toes of her shoes. WoW. looking at the pictures of my daughter, she is so much a young lady... i hardly recognize her from her "everyday tomboy" look. *sigh* now i'm just nattering.

1) the temps are dropping and the soup recipes have been dusted off. we are looking forward to a night in the near future of setting fire to a lot of wood in our yard (possibly more delivered straight from above) and enjoying our firepit before it gets too cold to sit by the fire. this has been the shortest summer season i've ever known outside of the united queendom. it was still chilly enough to wear jackets in mid-june, and we busted out the winter coats for a day last week. *grump* and lars has outgrown almost all of his pants already. in two months. he keeps growing like this and he'll be taller than his big brother by christmas. yipe!

there's a daughter on her way home now and 3 other kids to pick up, then homework and dinner to begin... and then the boy scouts and i will be working on knots tonight. yay knots!

"hi. i'm New."

so i've raised my hand and volunteered for something again. at least this is something i can do while sitting on my butt in front of the tv. see? i'm making time for *me* to sit and relax! i know, i know... but someday i can put all these valuable service hours on a resume, right? yeah-no. not this one. see, this time, i've volunteered to be the Clippin' Queen. that's right, cow-tow and grovel at my feet which, incidentally, are covered with little scraps of trash. behold Her Royal Hiney, Queen Kater, counter and compiler of Boxtops for Education, Campbell's soup labels, and Tyson's chicken labels. oh, and more stuff that i have yet to discover, i'm sure.

so here's what i do: i open the collection boxes in the school lobby, check the expiration dates, count the labels, send them in, and the school gets money. easy, right??

i expected a pretty big haul after the summer months of diligent label-watchers such as myself. and then i got a 30 gallon trash bag half-full from the last label Queen. OMFG doesn't begin to describe it. if i didn't respect the position of the Clippin' Queen before, i sure as hell do now.

first and foremost, what, in the name of prince albert's socks, would possess someone to re-use a plastic zipper lunch baggie to send labels in to the school???? is this personal? because we can meet at the bleachers after school if that's all it is. you pack a ho-ho for little suzy and she brings half home in her peanut butter sandwich bag and you think it's all good to send that sticky bag in to school the next day full of labels that need to be counted? REALLY? that's taking recycling a bit too far. so guess what? i'm not counting it. your effort goes right into the trash.

speaking of "in the trash," those Boxtops have expiration dates. out of the thousands of Boxtops in my living room, i've tossed about $20 worth that are expired. those Pillsbury tube biscuits all expired in june 2009. so did a lot of Old El Paso products. no good, guys. products you buy this week have dates far into 2011, 2012, and even 2013. so, um, where are all these products coming from with dates of 2008, 2007, and even 2006? if the Boxtops expirations are *that* old, you prolly shouldn't be putting that food in your mouth. just sayin'.

being a mother of four, i can totally understand not knowing where the scissors are at every given moment. i have torn the labels off the cans and chunked those boxes up to collect the miniature $.10 school prize. however, could we at least make an effort to cut along those dotted lines that the company so lovingly provides on the label? the little fat Campbell's guy by himself is not the part needed, folks. on some labels that isn't exactly clear, but i really don't need the whole label. especially the food service labels that are the size of an 8x10 sheet of paper. scissors are our friends. just, you know, trim a little bit?

and our final public service announcement goes out to the people who are sending in just random food boxes. check what i got today: Little Debbie cosmic brownies, PastaRoni, Lipton dry soup, Popsicles, Mott's sliced apples (the sticky bag! oooh, fun!), Mini Oreo go-pak, Quaker granola bars, a single Quaker instant oatmeal packet, (insert store brand) toasted oat cereal, Fiber One, Annie's shells & cheddar macaroni (the club store size box), and Land-O-Lakes fresh eggs.... i'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that this family is either new to school and has no idea what "Boxtops for Education" or "Campbell's Labels" are or possibly is new to the country. either way, it looks like i have a flier to create.

after 15 (non-consecutive) hours, i have grouped the labels by point value into gallon-size zipper bags. seven one-gallon-sized zipper bags and a couple of quarts, to be exact. i have counted 2,000 water bottle labels, 3,600 boxtops, and less than 500 soup labels. (i have to cut most of the soup labels out myself because following the dotted lines seems beyond the ability of some label collectors). and after all that counting, i discovered that the water label campaign was finished in april 2009. i did those labels first because they were the most difficult - sticky plastic things that refuse to lie flat for counting. *sigh* that is what my efficiency got me.

and i've taken a leaf out of another Queen's book: i'm sending out for help. "wanted: someone who likes to sit and watch tv and count little sticky scraps of trash." hm. somehow i don't think that want ad is gonna generate much interest. i need to re-work that baby into something like: "assistants needed to sort school labels for cash redemption. no cold calls." that might work. just get here soon. please.

pumpkin pancakes

3 C unbleached all-purpose flour
1/2 C sugar
1/2 C packed brown sugar
3/4 tsp salt
3 tsp baking powder
3 tsp baking soda
3/4 tsp cinnamon*
3/4 tsp ginger*
1/4 tsp nutmeg*
4 eggs
1-1/2 C sour cream*
1 can of pumpkin
1 C milk
3/4 tsp vanilla

1. In a large bowl, whisk together the flour, sugar, salt, baking powder, baking soda and spices.
2. In a separate bowl, beat the eggs, adding sour cream, pumpkin, milk and vanilla. Mix well.
3. Pour the egg mixture into the flour mixture and stir until just blended. Spoon a scant 1/4 cup batter onto a preheated, buttered griddle (or a heaping tablespoon for "silver dollar" size). Cook pancakes slowly over a low-medium heat for approximately 4-6 minutes, flipping after 3 minutes, when bubbles break on surface and edges are dry.

yields 36-40 regular pancakes

*for sweeter pancakes, substitute 1-1/2 C french vanilla yogurt for the sour cream and decrease the sugar to 2/3 C. you can also sub in 2 tsp pumpkin pie spice for the 3 spices listed here.

(this recipe feeds 6 dinner-size portions, plus two breakfast leftovers. usually. i don't bother with anything smaller , so i've converted all my recipes to "jumbo-size." you may need to adjust the amounts. or just keep a stack in the freezer! these are pretty thick pancakes too, so you might want to add a dribble of water or milk before cooking. sometimes i do, sometimes i don't.)

kate's eights

 1 - thank you, stacie, for blogging weekly and fueling my desire to do the same. if i can get into the habit of a regular weekly burst, maybe i can wrangle some more long-term and more fanciful writings back into my packed schedule.

2 - why are critters smarter than my family? my family members are too stupid to shut a door behind them when coming in from outside, thereby inviting all manner of crickets, spiders the size of rhode island, and mice into my home. but the critters entering my home are too smart and avoid all the Killer Death i have lying around to dispose of them. can i get a reversal here? although that spider last night was pretty stupid, running under the couch away from the giant shoe and then coming right back out to be squished to death. i seriously would have torn the house apart until i saw it die anyway. good to have it over with quickly. that monster was HUGE.

3 - why is it so hard to be environmentally friendly? i'm trying to recycle laminate at the elementary school. the laminating machine automatically generates a 3-foot by 15-inch swath of wasted laminate between every feed. i have heard other teachers say they cut it down into pieces and use it as disposable overhead sheets. i use it to grade papers. yesterday, i gathered approximately 30 feet of this wasted plastic, trimmed it down and stacked it neatly on an unused shelf. the janitor of the school deliberately threw it in the trash in my face, telling me she isn't going to waste her time with that. sorry, whose time? i gathered it from the trash, trimmed it, and stacked it up. not like i left it in a heap on the floor. then she swooped around the room, threw away a bunch of construction paper (that was big enough to be used still) and several blank pieces of paper, most of which i was using to divide up piles of copies i was making for three teachers. my point is, i am a taxpayer and this woman is throwing MY money in the garbage. this wasn't the first time she's thrown good paper into the trash,nor is it the first time she's thrown MY work into the trash. i'm starting to feel bitchy towards her. so i tattled to the principal on her.

4 - king arthur flour ROCKS. i can't afford to only buy that flour exclusively... it's well over $3 per bag. but i buy the bag and halve it with regular unbleached flour for baking and the results are still amazing. i baked snickerdoodles for my son's class treat yesterday. i had no less than five kids (and his teacher from last year) ask me in the hall if i had brought my famous snickerdoodles. and three kids who are not in his homeroom said, "lucky," and sulked off to class because they missed out this year. it's good to be famous for something tasty.

5 - next week begins a new era of music in our house. we will have trombone and upright string bass. i find it ironic that both instrumental music kids so far have chosen instruments that are larger than they are. so we'll have timpani for lars and harp for mileidy, right? oy vey.

6 -so, last night i sliced open an acorn squash for dinner. i'd never had it before, but i prepared butternut squash for my kids as babies, so i had the basic concept down. slice, scoop out seeds, bake. in the middle of this process, my nose began to run. i started sneezing, then my nose blocked completely. then my eyes began to burn like fire. i ran to the bathroom (as best as one can with their streaming eyes squeezed shut, snot pouring from their face and slimy seeds on one's hands). i washed my hands off with hot soapy water, cleaned up my face and headed back to the kitchen. i had just enough time to finish scooping seeds and throw the pan in the oven before starting the whole face problem over again. only this time, it didn't improve with a good, hot wash. i had to lie on the couch with ice on my eyes, which were blood-red and swollen shut. needless to say, i did not partake of the acorn squash for dinner. if it had affected my breathing in the slightest, i'd have been hitting 911 FAST. now i'm all a-skurrd of acorn squash.

7 - camping!!! we are heading en masse to gettysburg this weekend for some scouting/birthday fun. we traded in a HUGE (circa 1992) two-room tent for two smaller (lighter, waterproof) tents. we are hoping to hit a ghost walk for seamus' birthday fun and another mommy is baking a triple chocolate birthday cake in a dutch oven. i will take copious notes and attempt this feat at a later date. since my pear upside down cake was a success (except for that 2 inches in the very middle), i have every confidence that i can do this one too. oh, and i'm hoping to stop by the gap outlet in search of new fleeces for the chitlins. they miss the gap sweaters they've outgrown!

8 - with the end of september drawing ever closer, it is time to begin work on the halloween -excuse me, book character- costumes. fortunately, they have all decided to be relatively easy stuff this year. our second-grade "Ramona the Pest" will be resplendent in um, a new haircut, a dress, and wellies. our third-grade "Calvin" will have his stuffed tiger in tow for the big event. and for his finale of elementary school book parades, our fifth grader has decided on a nonfiction book.... "Poop: A Natural History of the Unmentionable" by nicola davies. yes, i'm serious. his brown sweatsuit will have different, um, specimens labeled on it. i'm making him do most of the work, about which he is absolutely STOKED.

on that note, fare thee well until next week.

marbeled peanut butter fudge

4 C sugar
1 can evaporated milk
1 C butter (i only use butter, but margarine can be used)
1 (7 oz) jar marshmallow fluff
3 C chocolate chips
1 Tbl vanilla
1 C peanut butter (i use super chunky)

1. In a heavy saucepan, boil the first three ingredients for 8 minutes, stirring constantly.
2. Add the next three ingredients, stirring well after each addition. Remove from heat (keep stirring frequently).
3. Pour half of the chocolate fudge into a buttered 9x13x2-inch pan.
4. Dollop peanut butter around pan, and pour the rest of the chocolate fudge on top. Swirl with a knife or offset spatula.
5. (Optional) Place a sheet of wax paper on top of the surface (to keep it from drying too much while it cools) pressing it all the way into the corners of the dish.
6. Chill until set. Depending on the humidity, it could take a couple of days. Slice into bite-size squares. This is a very rich fudge. Makes about 5 pounds.

avast, me hearties

t'day is national talk like a pirate day, see? the flyin' spaghetti monster deity tells tha' the lack of pirates on the high seas is the cause of global warmin', so help yer environment and be a pirate fer a day, see? iffn' ye can't figger it out, hie thee to a translator. stripes, eye patches, hooks and peglegs encouraged. long waxed moustaches preferred. ye've got no exuse fer avoidin' yer duty to yer planet t'day, mates.

git yer landlubbin' arses inta motion er i'll make ye walk the plank!!!

propaganda - does that come with fries?

 the first headline from an online social networking site i read yesterday made me giggle. somebody actually thought our kids were going to have to stand and take some kind of oath to the president. i followed the links and was dismayed to see that someone had posted a blog, deliberately misleading her readers into thinking she was citing sources for the president's speech next week. when i commented as such, the owner of that particular post (not the blog) accused me of not getting all the facts before making up my mind. he was right. i was dead tired and hadn't done my research before declaring the blog (not an actual news source, ladies, her personal scratchings just like mine) utter bullocks.

research i have done.

my opinon has not wavered.

michelle malkin's blog , dated 9-2-09, posts a video which was originally posted to youtube.com on 19 january 2009. proof? the posting date is underneath the name of the poster on the right-hand side of the video. this video depicts a few dozen starlets pledging themselves to change in america - although i think we could have done without knowing about the guy who pledges to conserve water by only flushing when he takes a dump from now on. and i admit, the guy who says he will no longer flip people the bird while driving is a bit off-color, to those that don't actually drive in real traffic. and the two folks who creepily pledge themselves... yeah, that could have been left out. but that was not the message at all. and that message isn't even the topic for next week's address to the school children of our nation. to the school administrator who probably didn't view the whole video and showed it to the sheltered classroom in utah - kick him in the pants and move on. everyone makes mistakes. to everyone else in an uproar - keep reading.

the department of education sent out a letter on 8-24-09 to school districts announcing the president's address, stating that its primary goal was to empower kids to set goals, work hard, and stay in school longer. sounds kind of like a pep rally gone global. that has the potential to be pretty cool. there are suggested classroom activities to pair with the speech but they are by no means listed as mandatory. there is a video contest described on the webpage as well as several FAQs. from the panic ensuing across the interwebz, it does not appear that half the country has even read the letter or the questions. (hint: click on the colored letters. they are links to what i'm discussing).

this address to the children of the nation is not new. the associated press (a real live news source) reports that former presidents ronald reagan and george h. w. bush delivered similar speeches to students. to say that the president wants to do some sort of swearing in or indoctrination is ludicrous. in my opinion, which is just as valid as michelle malkin's, someone who does not favor the current president has purposefully started a smear campaign on the president's good intentions, just for readership. go conspiracy theorists! wooo!

for the parents clamoring for the ability to "grant permission" to allow this monstrosity to occur next week: get on microsoft word and create yourself a permission slip. or, here's a thought, GO with them! what a concept. parents inside a school contributing to the education of their kids and not a cupcake in sight.

for the parents who say they will pull their kids out of school if their district decides to show it: would you have been that disrepectful to any other president? any at all? there is no problem sitting in the classroom and watching a shuttle blow up or watching the inaguration or watching the moon landing, but the president isn't allowed to encourage your child to be his or her best? how self-centered.

for the parents who claim that the president is a fascist-communist-whatever-else-evil-you-can-dredge-up: just wow. that's all i can come up with. you will be able to view the speech in its entirety after it is posted on the white house blog on monday. take a peek. wow... with imaginations like that, you guys should totally be writing new primetime television scripts.

i pledge to keep an open mind; to view the world through my half-full glass and to teach my children that everyone has a voice, regardless of whether we agree or not. i pledge to continue to reduce our family's output of material waste, using a composter in our yard and switching our appliances to surge switches that can turn off everything plugged in all at once, reducing our use of nonrenewable energy. i pledge to remain calm and keep my friends close, even if they jump off the deep end with conspiracy theories.

*sniff* i love you man. group hug? oh, wait. i've been sitting here so long, i gotta pee first.

ETA: unverified: NPR reportedly announced that the homework/accompanying curriculum has been removed due to parental concern. so now your child can just listen. um, yeah.

UQ 1998-2001

we lived in the united queendom (because there hasn't been a king in the kingdom for such a long time!!) for about 3 years when stationed there in the air force. we were dirt poor, being the junior-most ranked people, not only of the us air force members, but the entire base. most of the time we were advised to stay confined to our dinky little base in the middle of sheep farm country because of protests against the americans "spying on the british." we lived 3 miles from the nearest village that had more than a post office, 17 miles from the nearest city with a "mall" of sorts, and 2 hours by flying scotsman to london. all that during the petrol strikes and mad cow to boot. the smell of burning flesh will haunt me to the ends of my days. so my opinion of the country is probably a bit jaded, to say the least.

we acclimated to driving on the other side of the road pretty well, but i could not for the life of me handle a left-handed stick, so we were really glad we brought our american saturn with us. i only drove that, but dh could switch between my car and his mini quite well.

the first few months we lived there, we got to know the area, learned some of the history and many experiences we deemed "quaint" and "new." by the end of our first year, many of those things we called quaint were now small daily annoyances. i didn't like being called "duck" or "hen," and i visibly bristled at being called a "colonist," as the locals were want to do whenever i was seen in my humungous 4-door american sedan, or if i opened my mouth. our bank didn't communicate with other branches except by post...even though they could see we had money in our bank account on their computers, they told us we would have to drive to the bank where we originally opened the account to withdraw funds. i didn't like being expected to fix tea for the repair people who were in my home to - gosh, repair things, not gab! the hot and cold water came out of separate taps, so one couldn't wash the dishes without alternately scalding and freezing one's fingers with each rinse. summer was the last 2 weeks of august...and that was it. i went through a more-than-mild-but-not-severe depression every winter when the sun came up as we walked to school at 9 am and the streetlights came on as we walked home at 3 pm. the cold, wet, damp weather seeped into my bones and settled there that first winter and i never quite warmed up again until we'd fried in the arizona sun for a week or so after our return. and the only snow we received was a paltry dusting, so we couldn't even enjoy any actual "winter."

we found the food to be very bland, even at the finest restaurants, although i fell in love with just desserts and their chutney and cheese sandwiches. they make the only chutney i have ever liked. i've tasted others since, and none hold a candle to the nectar from this little coffeeshop specializing in tea, sandwiches and sweets. the combinations of food offered elsewhere blew our little american minds: tuna and sweetcorn pizza? baked bean pizza? ice-lollies? mr. brain's pork faggots - what?!? steamed spotted dick? (no thanks, i'll have apple pie.) fish served wrapped in newspaper from a truck - and the fish was fried whole, eyes and all! broiled tomatoes and cold baked beans on toast - for breakfast? i went into the kitchen and showed the chef at our hotel how to mix up a box mix of aunt jemima pancakes for breakfast. and i bought our own syrup from the commissary to go with it. he tasted some and found them "delightful."

we got a membership to the national trust to tour the history of the country that has been around for centuries and often found that a castle we had driven 2 hours to see was actually only a pile of old stones and a brown sign that said (site of). too many of those disappointments and we stopped going out in search of castles altogether.

BUT.....

we loved nottingham. we couldn't make the 2 hour drive often, but every time was well-worth the trip. we picnicked in sherwood forest and toured the art exhibits in nottingham castle. i miss biking the fen roads through village after village, over fjords, passing fields of wheat with no other sound than our wheels and the occasional car. i miss our house in the village, when we would wake up to the sounds of the horses in their back pasture in the mornings. i miss the fresh produce at tesco. i miss roundabouts. i miss the quiet. i miss the occasional high tea, sitting down with friends for a cuppa and watching the world slow for an hour, because we were all sitting down having a cuppa. i miss the christmas faire. who knew that toting a stein filled with hot mulled cider (or cocoa for the kiddies) and munching fresh roasted or warm, candied chestnuts during a light snowfall could be so magical?

we attended a fabulous medieval banquet, the likes of which i have not ever seen stateside. we dressed in medieval garb and the table was served by bustier-busting wenches laden with pewter pitchers of mead and ale. we were served soup in bread bowls and no utensils, so we sopped the thick heavy stew up in bites of bread. one person carved the several chickens at the table and we ate with our hands, as traditional medieval diners would. i had to scoot down the bull hotel's back stairs on me arse to the waiting car so i wouldn't fall to my death that night. it was fun - and it wasn't just the mead.

we had a wonderful time in our brief visit to scotland. the staggering beauty of fresh snow on ben nevis every morning was a sight to behold. we stopped for tea every couple of hours up there, just to keep warm! and that was in april!! loch ness surpassed my imagination in scope and beauty. we tried haggis on toast that week, and although i won't eat it again, that decision has more to do with how it's made than how it actually tastes.

we loved visiting our friends in knaresborough, in the yorkshire dales. our friends could actually see that bridge in the website's pic from the end of their street. we went to the fall festival and regularly bought the queen's "pink lady apples" at her winter residence in sandringham. we did actually make it to london on a few occasions. we hung out at the zoo in london and hit the hard rock cafe once, also visiting the sherlock holmes museum on baker street. and stonehenge is breathtaking at sunset. that is not a postcard; i took that shot in january 1999.

but we shallow americans pined for our pizza delivery, 24 hour stores, ATM's on every corner, restaurants without any smoking at all EVER, sun, chocolate chips, and proper cake. (sponge and rolled marzipan just never did it for me.) like i said, we miss some things. we plan, someday, to make england a stop on a tour through europe...for a chutney & cheese at just desserts! it's a great place to visit, but i couldn't live there.

getting ribbed in america

"I just ate the most wonderful meal at the Officer's Club," he began -- in Arabic, of course. The students who didn't understand were scribbling notes and frantically flipping through the dictionary. He was late. He was always late for his right-after-lunch class and we just dealt with it. Those of us who could not afford to eat in the Officer's Club even if we were allowed in, just rolled our eyes and prepared for the story of privilege that was about to unfold. He had the flair for the dramatic, from the sharp angles of his eyebrows, down his regal nose, all the way through to the crinkles at the corners of his mouth. He was known by that smile as easy-going, even if strict. His grammar was better than most in his field, and he was respected by student and colleague alike. He was going bald and he was not fighting it. His comb-over looked more as if it was out of respect, to deflect the light from the students' eyes, rather than trying to hide the pate shining beneath that fading rug.

"The meat, she was falling from the bone. The flavor of the ribs was like nothing I have tasted before. That wonderous smoked meat was so good, and so fabulous, I had called to the, the chef to come to my table and I told to him that he was the best chef in all California."

Bjurstrom glanced up from his paper. "You ate ribs at the Officer's Club today?" he asked, with a strange look in his eyes.

"B'il arabia, min fudlik," insisted Dr. Asfoor, which we all knew by now translated to "in Arabic, please."

"You have eaten the ribs in your lunch at the Officer's Club today?" he managed, struggling with the past tense. He licked his index finger and started thumbing through his dictionary, a smile tugging unprofessionally at the edges of his mouth. Those of us who knew him well, knew something was up. We took our direction, however slight and unspoken, from the former Airborne Ranger designated as our class leader.

"Do you want to know where I ate this fabulous meat?" Dr. Asfoor teased the class into conversation. He drew us in, one by one, including us in the details, teaching us phrases and helping us talk around words and verb conjugations we had not yet learned. That is probably why I loved conversation so much. I loved diving right into the unknown and muddling around learning.

Bjurstrom carefully placed his dictionary in the corner of his desk and arranged his notes, while waiting for a lull in the conversation. "I ate ribs at the Officer's Club today, too," he said as proud as a five-year-old holding his first school painting.

Dr. Asfoor, turned to him with a big smile and asked, "Yes, and what else did you eat? Tell us because we cannot go inside, ya rafiq," he joked.

"I ate a salad and some milk. Milk makes a soldier strong. It was a good meal and my stomach is full. I do enjoy a tasty pig."

Dr. Asfoor broke into peals of laughter. "You are a funny student!" he exclaimed. "I love to hear my students tell jokes to me! I could not eat a pig!! They were beef ribs!" He was laughing so hard he was holding his belly and wiping tears from his eyes. I told you he was drama to the core.

Bjurstrom looked around the room and we could see the smile screaming behind his eyes. He was trying so hard to hold it together and it hit me. Dude. Our Muslim teacher just ate pork ribs. And on a Friday, no less, their holy day. And he liked them. The only thing that could make this worse was if he had somehow managed to eat them with his left hand.

"No, really," Bjurstrom brought out the English. "Those were pork ribs."

The classroom got deathly quiet. "No. You are mistaken. They were the beef ribs. Surely they would not serve pork ribs on this army base." He paused for a moment, and before anyone could take another breath he stated, "I must leave."

And leave he did.

He didn't return until Monday, when we heard from all the teachers about Poor Majid Asfoor getting poisoned sick at the Officer's Club on bad meat. He had to go to the hospital and have his stomach pumped. Our entire class snickered and elbowed every time it was mentioned. We tried explaining how much he liked the ribs and how tasty he thought they were, and the conversation was simply derailed, every time. Dr. Asfoor himself, brought in a new lesson plan altogether and dramatically changed the subject permanently. He even pretended not to understand either Arabic or English when the subject was brought up for the remainder of the YEAR.

I guess there are some things better left unsaid.

crockpot chicken cacciatore

from the crockpot cookbook (we have a 5-qt. model)

1 med onion, thinly sliced
3 lb chicken, cut up
12 oz tomato paste
4oz drained mushrooms (or about 3/4 C fresh)
1 tsp salt
1/2 tsp pepper
2 cloves minced garlic
2 tsp crushed oregano leaves
1/2 tsp basil
1 bay leaf
1/2 C dry white wine
1 lb cooked spaghetti

(NOTE: i added 1 can undrained diced tomatoes and about 1 C thinly sliced yellow zucchini because i like my cacciatore veg-ful)

place onion in bottom of crockpot, with drained mushrooms, drained (reserve juices) tomatoes and zucchini. place chicken atop veggies. combine tomato paste, wine, and spices, adding reserved juices from tomatoes if needed. pour atop meat & veggies. place bay leaves in sauce. cover & cook on low - 8 hours or high - 4 hours. serve atop spaghetti.

alcohol screaming

I remember it like it was yesterday. No blacked-out pieces, no waking up in strange places, no cautious uncertainty....I remember just about every detail. After all: most of them went into the police report. But I'm getting ahead of myself.

July 1997. Sweltering heat of Maryland. Plenty of booze laid in from the Class Six. Jello shooters mixed and frigidated the night before. Good friends re-uniting from several bases on the eastern seaboard at my house. Promises of good food (always, i can't let them down), good music (as dh could never let them down either), good drinks and good laughs, plus the added comedy of three dogs and a baby. Bring on the birthday party already.

We invited neighbors, thereby notifying them that we'd be rowdy for a while. But strangely none of them showed up. We cleaned the house like mad, opening windows, re-arranging furniture for the maximum party atmosphere, and cleared out all the land mines in the back yard. Music cranked, bodies arriving, food being eaten...all signs of a rockin' party. Still no neighbors, even though they said they'd come. Strange bunch of co-street-habitants we live amongst. *shrug* Oh well. Their loss.

Nigh about 10:30, I toddled across the street to ask the friendly beings there if they'd like to join us for my champagne toast. I don't know why. It just seemed like the thing to do at the time. I walked in (their front door was open) to a full-blown screaming match between Navy member wife and paraplegic husband. Drunk and giggling, I still decided to ask them if they wanted to come over. Wife responded with a resounding, "Yes. Anything to get away from him!" Back across the street I shuffled, crystal champagne flute in hand, concentrating on making it ring around the edge as I walked. The shouting match followed behind me. And then I heard the screams.

I lurched around (in my own yard by now) to see husband in his wheelchair with a death-grip on wife's hair trying to twist her head off. Literally. In the middle of the street. Her voice was becoming more strangled-sounding when I burst into my home, snatched up the phone and dialed 911. Other neighbors came out of other homes, separated husband from wife on opposite sides of the street and locked his wheels while we waited on the phone for the 60-120 seconds it took for the base police to arrive.

Navy wife was taken into custody "to cool down" (WHAT?!? The victim gets in trouble? Oh, no, it's the military member who gets in trouble, i see.....not) and husband is sent back into the house, under surveillance for a while. Or something. And then the head police dude comes into my house to take the official report from the person who called. Yup. Drunk Katerooni.

He took a long sweeping gaze at the detritus of a former good time strewn from one end of the room to the other. Don't get me wrong. It didn't look like a crack-house, but every horizontal surface was covered with bottles, glasses, and flutes of varying fullness alongside empty jello shooter cups and paper plates of birthday cake and hors d'oerves.

I wiggled my fingers in response to his stare and giggled, "I'm 21 today. I'd offer you a drink, but I know ya just can't stay. Too bad for you, huh?" He chuckled and smiled and began his report.

"Awe you da miwitawy membow?" he Elmer Fudd-ed. oh. my. god. It was all I could do to not laugh in his face. It didn't seem like a good idea. The room was deathly quiet, and I imagined I could hear the sounds of twenty people biting their tongues until they bled. It was the longest drunk twenty minutes of my life and although I couldn't stop smiling, I never managed to laugh outright at the officer's serious lisp. We all waited a full minute after the car door slammed and had driven away before breaking into thunderous peals of laughter.

And the lesson I learned that night? Not "Don't beat your spouse." I already knew that. Not "Don't invite the neighbors." I'm glad I had intervened and was able to call for help when I did. It was simply "Don't drink so much that you can't fill out a police report with a semi-straight face." And the Kater was careful in her drinking habits ever more.

The End.