Almond Orangenilla Muffins - a Mescipe!

I love to mess around with recipes...thus the term (that I just coined myself!) "Mescipes"! I just made some muffins that are pretty darn tasty, and even a smidgen better for you than regular muffins. The original recipe is from the Joy of Cooking, "Reduced-fat muffins". (I decided to start with this recipe simply because we'd run out of milk; making "reduced fat" means no milk, apparently.) I'll put that recipe in here, along with changes I made and why I made them.

REDUCED FAT MUFFINS turned into ALMOND ORANGENILLA MUFFINS

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. Grease or line muffin tin of 12 regular muffins.

Dry Ingredients:

Joy Of Cooking (JoC): 2 c. flour
Jessica Tryon (JT): 1 c. all-purpose flour + 1 c. almond flour that I made by grounding up almonds in my Cuisinart.
Why?: I've done this with other recipes and I know that it works, and almonds are tres good for you, and cuts down on the carbs from white flour. It does give it a texture though, and a little crunch, so if you don't like that in muffins stick with all-purpose white!

JoC: 1/2 - 2/3 c. sugar
JT: 1/3 c. regular white sugar and 1/3 c. Splenda, to cut down on the carbs.
Why?: Splenda's a pretty safe bet when baking, as far as sugar alternatives go; and though I can taste a Splenda flavour in other things I've done with it, I don't taste it in these muffins... yet.

JoC & JT: 4 t. baking powder - no change. I don't know enough about how this works to mess with it.

JoC & JT: 1/2 t. salt - no reason to change that one!

JoC: 1/4 t. baking soda (if using yogurt; don't use this if you're using milk!)
JT: 1/4 t. + 1/8 t. baking soda
Why?: I will be using yogurt. Also, the Joy of Cooking adds little extra recipes following a basic recipe to add flavours and things. Since I was going Orange, and it didn't have anything for orange, I followed tips under Lemon about adding the extra 1/8 t.

JoC: 1/4 t. nutmeg (optional) - I did not add the nutmeg, because I didn't want to!


Wet Ingredients:
JoC & JT: 1 large egg - didn't mess with the egg.

JoC: 3 T. veg oil or 3.5 T butter, melted
JT: 3.5 T. butter, melted
Why?: Obviously, using the oil instead of the butter will cut down on the fat. But I used the butter for flavor. Because butter is tasty. Plus, I smear some on when I eat them, too. I start thinking butter will be the death of me, but then I think of Paula Deen and stop worrying about it. :)

JoC: 1 t. vanilla extract
JoC: 1 t. orange juice
Why?: I intended to use yogurt instead of milk, but I only have vanilla yogurt! So I didn't add vanilla. However, I made orange muffins, so I squeezed half an orange and put in 1 t. of orange juice instead! This keeps the liquids balanced, which is important.

JoC: 1 c. lowfat milk or plain lowfat yogurt
JT: 1 c. Activia vanilla yogurt
Why?: It's what I had, but since we needed vanilla extract (see previous) that worked out great!

That's everything that the original recipe says to use. Mix the dry in one bowl, the wet in another, then pour the wet into the dry and stir it until -just- mixed up, then put them into muffin tins (made 12 regular muffins, kind of flat... not enough batter to puff over the top) and bake for "12 minutes (or slightly longer with fruit)".

However, I needed more orangeyness for my orange muffins. So:

To the dry mix I added: little pieces of oranges. I cut the orange so that I could section it like a grapefruit and cut each section into tiny bits. I squeezed them a bit by smooshing them with the flat of the knife. Then I dropped them carefully into the flour one at a time and coated them thoroughly. This keeps them from burning and sticking together in clumps.

To the wet mix I added: orange zest! I haven't got a zester, so I carefully peeled the orange with a veggie peeler (avoid the white bitter pith!) then chopped the peelings into teensy bits. The lemon recipe said to mix the lemon zest into the wet mix, so that's what I did with the orange zest.

Now that I've added little bits of oranges, I ended up not getting frantic when the timer went off, and these ended up having about 14 or 15 minutes. It was a smidge too much, the bottoms stuck; next time I'll definitely check them at 12 and make a wiser decision.


I know a lot of folks who freak out when it comes to not following a recipe perfectly. But I've found that in most cases, since recipes are really just a combination of elements creating chemical reactions, if you have similar ingredients (like orange instead of lemon) you can fudge it pretty easily. Use what you know from other recipes (like knowing that ground up almonds made good flour for cupcakes), or look up recipes that use your main ingredient and see what kinds of things they do with it. Most of that information, given a similar food type, will be interchangeable. Learning how to make Mescipes gives a lot more flexibility for creating great food when your ingredients may be unpredictable.

So what kind of Mescipe will you be whipping up next?

blog moved

Apparently I still have 5 followers on this site, and I didn't realize it, so... just FYI... I moved! the url is still http://daybreakandtwilight.blogspot.com but what happened is that I started a new one and moved the URL over there and renamed this one, so your follower program thing says that you should stay here when, in fact, the URL has moved.

SO... click on the link above and come on back! A lot has happened since April!

Boredom la-dee-dah... TOOMUCHTODO!!

So life was trucking along on a relatively even pace when it was suddenly stunned by everything happening at once. (Thus, of course, I blog. *heh*)

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Nicholas arrives tomorrow and will be around until Tuesday, I think. This is a very good thing. We have many ideas but no plans, which is typically how everyone around here likes things. He is bringing our kayak and some paddles, but we have nowhere to store it and no roof rack to actually get it to water. We're hoping to replicate Steve's "hang it from the garage rafters" scenario for storage. Of course we got a car that doesn't come with roof rack as an option, so we'll have to dig up the cash for a custom fitted one. We'll see how all that goes.

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I ended my last class with a 98.23%. It's sufficient. *heh* Started a new one this week on "Children, Family, and Community", and it seems to be ok... though repeating a lot of stuff we've already had, and not to much more depth than the first time. But we'll see. It's an instructor I haven't had, and she seems to be rather hands-off right now. It's her first term teaching for Walden, though she's taught many years in a community college. I wish I was more optimistic.

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We are going through the Anglican class, which ends in Adult Confirmation. In order to be confirmed, you have to have first been baptized. There has been a family story that said when I was an infant, a Catholic family member got permission and a vial of Holy water and baptized me in the kitchen sink, since there was doubt about my continuing existence. My parents (being of the 'baptizing is for adults' vein) taught me that it didn't really count. They also taught me that communion was acceptable to take when I was old enough to understand it. In the church we currently attend, they accept infant baptisms and require baptism for taking of communion. I've been content with that thus far. However, because the Confirmation is a rite with the Bishop that requires having been baptized, and I was becoming more and more uneasy about not knowing for sure, I called the family member related to the story. Who has no recollection whatsoever and after lengthy discussion it was all agreed that even if it had, the situation 32 years ago would not have warranted the church having any record of it.

The moral of the story is that next Saturday we will be Dave Ramsey "Sell so much stuff the kids think they're next"ing at Wescott from 7am to 10:45, leaving the table to Jen and running to church for the 11:00 Confirmation rehearsal, running back to Wescott to clean up by 1:00, running home to meet my parents who are driving in from Charlotte, hitting the road for Seabrook by 2:00, and by 4:00 I will be immersed for Baptism in the Atlantic Ocean. Then Sunday morning Lanse and I will be confirmed.

Anyone who wants to come is welcome, but let us know because Seabrook is gated and we'll need to call in a pass for you.

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Adoption homestudy update! Which adds a trip to Columbia to the list of things to do in the next two weeks.

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We also needed to have physicals redone for the homestudy. I called and made the appointment Tuesday morning, went to bed Tuesday night with a sore throat, woke with a fever, and went to the appointment Thursday feeling horrid. Still feel horrid. I'm going out this morning (when I stop typing) to get my medications.

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Things to do by next Saturday:

• Pick up meds and med equipment (need a mask for the nebulizer)
• Get better
• Finish up stuff to sell at the sale
• Wrap up last month's budget info and complete this month's (which already started)
• Write two papers by Sunday night
• Clean the house for Nick (which is a disaster because of crafting stuff for the sale)
• Get groceries (we're out of everything)
• Bake bread (see previous)
• Do stuff with Nick
• Purchase and install kayak storage system
  
• Possible going away party for a friend tomorrow night
• Church
• Tuesday night class
• Meet with Doug about the baptism
• Do Week 2 homework (readings, discussion posts x3, 2 papers)
• Clean the house for my parents
• Host my parents
  
• Travel to Columbia for homestudy stuff?
• Survive through next weekends' schedule
• NOT PANIC

That is all.

Easter 2009

No matter what you believe spiritually, you can't deny the intense amount of love it would take for someone to willingly submit themselves to a public torture and death on your behalf for a crime they didn't commit. There's no power on earth that would motivate that kind of choice aside from an overwhelming love.

The thing of Easter is that that very thing happened, and Christ came back. Anyone can die; I'd wager there are even people who do feel so intense a love that they would be willing to - or already have - die for someone else in horrible and humiliating ways. What makes today so completely and vitally important is ...He didn't stay dead.

In the last few years I've awakened on Easter Sunday so bursting with gratitude that I put on the praising music and danced around the kitchen. That the ruler and creator of the universe held that kind of love for me just fills me with overwhelming joy. I'm a bit more subdued this year, contemplative and tired, but still soaking in bewildered joy and gratitude to Him.

I hope today brings you joy and a deeper understanding of His love for you.

Thursday Randomness

Last night we attended our church's Tenebrae service. Some Anglican and Episcopal congregations do this on Holy Wednesday, but Catholics and others do it on Holy Thursday or Good Friday "The purpose of the Tenebrae service is to recreate the emotional aspects of the passion story..." which went from the story of Judas checking in with the Sanhedrin to set his silver price to the crucifixion of Christ. In the middle were readings from the Old Testament from times when the Israelites were crushed and abandoned and felt forsaken by God. After each reading a candle was extinguished, until only the Christ candle was left; that was removed after the crucifixion and brought back in at the end. In all honesty, I was a bit bored... it was all readings, we sang two hymns that were pretty and solumn but weren't ones that I really emotionally connect to; it was hard to see the litergy and hymn words because it was held by candlelight, and I was focusing (physically and mentally) too hard on following the service to actually internalize it. After the Christ candle was removed from the church (walked out the front door) we said the Lord's Prayer, and that was incredible. It just had a much deeper emotional meaning at that specific point in time. Overall though, I think I've been most affected by the first CRC Tenebrae service that I went to; there was just enough difficulty for me to participate in this one for me to get emotionally involved.

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On a much lighter note, Aleta Meadowlark asked this question today in her lovely food blog, Omnomicon: "What are your top 10 herbs and spices?" So I figured I'd share mine, in no particular order. (S&P are a given, btw.)

1. Garlic Salt
2. Savory
3. Rosemary - fresh from the garden
4. Marjoram - fresh from the garden
5. Basil - fresh from the garden
6. Curry Powder
7. Paprika
8. Coriander (don't use it often because it's whole and I haven't got a grinder, but I love the flavor.)
9. Lawry's Season All Season Salt (yeah, I know)
10. Chives/Green Onion (technically more a vegetable than an herb, but I make it work)

We're having chicken wraps for lunch, with lots of Lawry's. Yum!

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My right foot hurts pretty badly when I walk on it; it's something in putting pressure on my heel that radiates pain down to my toes. Sigh.

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I contested a deduction on my last paper of Week 5 (last week), and my instructor changed my grade! Woo! Go Instructor!

I now have access to my classroom for the new class that starts Monday. It's called "Child, Family and Community Relationships" and is my final course for the 1000 level courses. After this I get to dive into Preschool specific courses. Yay! I have an instructor I haven't had before. We'll see how it goes.

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I love watching the bird bath out here when it's a gorgeous day and I've just refilled it and then sat quietly and patiently waiting. Papa Bluebird took a dip a couple times and then got into a fight with another male Bluebird; the finches (I've figured out how to identify between a male house finch and a purple finch! We have both!) did some low swooping but didn't stop, a mockingbird took a drink and bopped around in the leaves for a bit, and two male cardinals chased each other around the tree. There was something enormous in the neighbor's far tree watching it all, but it silhouetted against the sky and I couldn't identify it.

Learnin'

In a burst of uncharacteristic motivation, I spent all last week learning. I learned about Anglicans, I learned about children's health, I learned about Social Services, I learned about Academic Advising, I learned a bit about my instructor, I learned some XML, and I learned about myself.

'Twas an awful lot of learnin', and it made my brain hurt.

So I'll try to make this quick:

• I just might be Anglican by belief, my "baptism" is accepted, I could have it re-affirmed or get confirmed, depending on what I want. There's a recommended church in Charlotte, but it's smack in the downtown and quite a goodly hike from my folks', and they don't have a Saturday evening service. My mom wants us all together for Easter service, as she should; they're very much not Anglican, so we're facing the 'can't please everyone all the time' scenario.
  
• Proper nutrition is important, especially in growing kids. Nutrients work together to make the body go. Energy balance is vital.
  
• Our case worker has done all her prepping for her 'sit down and write' day, which is sometime this week.
• I have a new Advisor at school who is very nice, interested about me, and will stick with me til the bitter end. This is a good thing.
• My instructor, while very intense and perhaps unaware of inconsistencies, has a good heart.
• XML sucks to learn by doing
• I love making blogs, I have a very short attention span, I'm resourceful, I'm lazy, I enjoy raw spinach, and I can predict earthquakes with my legs.

I learned a lot more than that, but really it's all just details.

Monday blogging

Despite most of the world feeling that the best day of the week is Friday, I have recently realized that I look forward to Mondays most. This is because all of my week's homework is due at midnight Sunday night, and I spend all week slacking off and all day Sunday wringing myself ragged speed-writing papers. Monday morning brings the blessed relief of "well, it's too late now" and six days of slacking ahead of me.

Unfortunately, my current class ends with a bang in the form of a blogging project, and it ends on Easter Sunday night, so I'll be out of town most of that week. Our Application assignments each week have been to write a "blog post" (really a regular academic paper, as that's how she grades it) on some aspect of children's health, and then in the final week we are to revise each week's work and create a health blog, with each weeks' paper being one post. I have a great many personal opinions regarding this project which I will be keeping to myself until my grades are in. Just in case.

When it comes to blogging, I have a fault: I simply can not just use the provided templates. I have two blogs already, besides this school project, and I spent hours seeking out and tweaking non-blogger-provided templates, grabbing one someone else made up and changing margins and colors and images (with no XML experience, just changing numbers randomly and hitting 'preview' to see what it did, which is why it takes so long). I decided to poke around and see what I could come up with for class even though it's not due for another two weeks, and I'm glad I did. I started putzing with it around 11:00 this morning, and just decided to quit for the night now that I'm satisfied with the general layout.

After all that work, I just don't see the point of stopping with five Application paper posts, so after class is done I may just use it as a place to ramble on about my schoolwork and what I'm learning. Though this class seems to focus on physical health under the heading of "Child, Safety, Health and Nutrition", everything that I've learned (and rambled on about) so far has to do with the health level of a child in some area of development. And I can't see the point of a 5-post blog. I'd hate to think I just wasted an entire Monday laying out a blog for 2% of my grade.

Right now the blog is under construction, but if anyone wants to give me feedback, feel free. It's here. Please don't comment on that blog, put it in here. Thanks.

Road Blocks*

Tuesday was one of those days that conspired against us in very subtle ways. I honestly don't quite remember what I actually did, but through some weird combination of blood sugar imbalance, PMS, and lack of proper sleep, I suffered some sort of weird spacial disturbance where I kept dropping things or I would go to set something on a table and miss by a quarter of an inch. The sort of thing where I'd spill something, and then in the process of trying to clean up the cat would walk in it, and I'd grab the paper towels, drop them, grab them firmly, knock over a dish on the counter with them, finally get them to the table, wipe the mess too quickly for it to absorb and thus pushing it onto the floor.... that kind of thing. Little frustrations all day.

We had our Anglican Communion/Adult Confirmation class in the evening, and something seemed very determined to have us be late. I made dinner just fine, utilizing the microwave, and we ate and cleaned up and then started packing up things to go. We were both irritated, and Lanse decided to make tea to take, and the microwave made this horrible noise... but kept running, so he let it run for a minute, but the water was still cold. So the microwave was dead. Long live the microwave. I boiled some water on the stove and he had his tea; he went out to the car while I ran to the bathroom... and the toilet wouldn't flush. At that point it became obvious something didn't want us to leave, so I said screw that, and we left anyway. When we got home, the toilet worked fine. Unfortunately the microwave really was broken.

Yesterday was much better, we had a nice long deep conversation about personal faults and no one got mad, and we figured out how we could go buy a new microwave. And then we did. It's about the same size (slightly smaller inside, but by like... 1/10 of a cubic inch) but it's glossy black and makes a huge visual black hole in my kitchen. I'm seriously considering getting white appliance paint to make it match. But the biggest concerns were size, proper buttons, and price, and this had pretty much what we wanted. Then we meandered our way home and I did homework and played more pirate game and went to bed.

Today has been better. Lanse is away at a work event, so I have the day to myself and I'm really not doing anything different, but I'm enjoying it all being just mine (and the cats') anyway. I'll probably do some beadwork, pretend to study, do more piratey stuff, read for Bible Study tomorrow, and write more blog post on spiritual issues that I'm learning at class.

So stay tuned!

*No idea why I called this Road Blocks but I still feel like it fits, so there ya have it.

Birds

Taking turns in the birdbath this morning:

• 4 or 5 Sparrows
• a House Finch
• 2 Tufted Titmouses (Titmice? They're newly arrived and really pretty. I hope they stay.)
• female Cardinal

Watching from nearby:

• 2 male Cardinals, occasionally chasing each other off
• 2 Blue Jays
• male Bluebird, who's never far from his family so they're probably watching too.
  

I love my back yard.

I was drawn by Ursula Vernon - a dream

The land was flat and covered with trees, except for the part I was standing in which was a long clear section somewhat like a golf fairway. At the far end of the clearing was a tall hill with a foreboding dark and pointy castle on the top. The skies were unnaturally dark, like when it's just about to storm and it's nearly dusk anyway, so it's this eerie darkness you can sort of see through but not really. An evil ruler had just taken the throne and was doing something dastardly, but I didn't know what.

What I did know was that all the creatures of the land were happily frolicking along, heading towards the ocean. It was exciting, all my friends running along, as though they were just going for a day at the beach. I went along too, but then the ocean was nearer than it had been, and kept crawling closer, up over the land. The other creatures didn't seem to realize that the water was already here and kept running ahead through it to get to where the ocean should have been, and they went in over their heads and didn't come up. As the water lapped my feet I realized that the evil ruler was planning to drown the world while he was safe on the hill and start it all over again. I turned and began running towards the hill...

...and then there was a mirror...

...and the world went wobbly, like looking through very old glass...

...and I was standing in a bright white hallway with old gray formica flooring. It was finally bright enough for me to get an idea of what kind of creature I was. I had some round bits, with one long leg right in the middle, and then two really long ankle kind of things came off the end of it and I had two very large webbed feet. I also had a long, round, wobbly - and yellow - trunk of some sort. And possibly knobbly antennae. I was colored like a Dr. Seuss character but I knew without a doubt that I was drawn by Ursula Vernon, and I did not match my surroundings at all. There was a wide floor standing mirror behind me, which faded away as I watched. It was still there, but it wasn't; like it'd be there if it was needed. If I came back.

A human lady came around the corner and stopped short. She had brown bobbed hair, wore a long white lab coat and carried a clipboard. She said, "Hello! Who're you?" very kindly, and invited me to follow her to her office. As we entered the hall she'd come from, I noticed she was was walking somewhat... carefully... and looking around a lot. Suddenly, a door opened and a middle-aged gruff looking man stopped short in the doorway. He had glasses and a lab coat like the lady's, and was very tall and solid with rumpled graying hair. The sort of man you don't want to argue with. He took one look at me and said to the woman, "Grab it! What is it?? It's a... demon-thing! We've got to take it to the lab!" With a squeal and turn on my heel, I dove around the corner and back through the mirror.

I was in a different part of the clearing, where the castle looked the same distance away but the water hadn't quite reached me yet. Rather, the water had nearly reached me, but both the water and I were nearer to the center of what remained of the world. It was very quiet. I knew there wasn't much time left, if I hadn't already lost it all. I also realized that there was nothing that one small creature could do here; I couldn't climb up to the castle and challenge the evil ruler who had magic and power with just my webbed feet and wobbly trunk and knobby antennae and disagreement on my mind. I'd be blasted to cinders in an instant... if I was even accorded the time of day to begin with. I knew that the answer to saving my world was through that mirror... in that other place. I turned back to the mirror and went through.

The building was deserted; my hallway was lit with the same strange flourescent bulbs but some connecting hallways had been locked down and darkened. I peeked down the connecting hallway I'd been in earlier, and the nice lady scientist darted quickly out of a door with her arms full of papers. She'd been watching for me, and she was ready. "Quick!" she hissed... "We've got to get you out of here!"

We made a mad dash for the lobby doors and came out onto a sidewalk with occasional passers by who, for some reason, saw nothing unusual about a three dimensional cartoon drawing walking around their city. Two cars were pulled up to the curb, both run down... a dark green truck and a dirty red four door convertable of some sort. They were full of guys in their early 20s, of the 'cowboys without manners' type, and were clearly in on lady scientist's getaway plan. She shoved me towards the pickup saying, "Get in!" As she climbed into the convertable, I heard her say, "Quick! Go! Her world is dying, we have to save it!"

How did she know...?

Food thoughts, again

Ood Steak
First, a food related photo for Doctor Who fans. The sign's said this for at least six months, but I finally just stopped to get the photo:

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Onion tears
I cry when I cut onions. I'm pretty sure everyone does, since there seems to be a whole universe dedicated to various methods of onion-tear-prevention. Both of my parents cried cutting onions. What everyone failed to tell me is that they cry because it hurts. I think that was a mean trick.

We've recently discovered the joy packaged in green onions, which I've been putting on almost everything I cook. But cutting them has become such a horrible experience that I've had to plan ahead. Here's what I've discovered:

• I do not cry until I actually touch the cut part of the onion. I've managed to fine dice an entire stalk of green onions without touching onion juice and I did not cry. In the last few months I've only managed to do that once though; it's hard to hold the onions steady enough by the knife to cut them without touching them.
• Once I cry, there's oils involved with my eyes. I have to have 1: a paper towel to wipe my hands; 2: a shirt to wipe my eyes once the oil's off my hands; and 3: a fabric of the sort that cleans glasses well.
• My eyelashes are long, and even after I cough or sneeze and my eyes water, they tend to streak my lenses. After chopping onions, my lenses are so splattered and streaked with oils that even if I could see through tears I couldn't see.
  

Onion tears summarized: Plan ahead. We don't bother with whole white onions because we only eat about half of it before it goes bad or dries out, we don't use it enough. Green onions are great because I can chop up one stalk at a time if I really want to and the rest will keep for a bit. However, I hate doing it and so I've decided that every time I want to cut onions, I will cut twice as much as I need so that the next time I don't have to. I just made a chicken wrap for lunch and only needed a pinch of green onions, but I chopped up three stems to have for later, since I was going to cry anyway. Figured I'd make it count for something more than one chicken wrap.

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Grapefruit Meditation
I've posted before about grapefruit, it's a fruit that really fascinates me in flavor and juiciness and the subtle balance of tart and sweet in the perfectly ripe grapefruit. But what I hadn't realized before this week was the emotional importance that grapefruit holds for me.

Most people have routines or rituals that they probably wouldn't identify as such but which come out as "just the way it is done". There are so many little ways especially done in the kitchen. I was taught that, while you can just forcefully scoop grapefruit out of the sections and eat it, the best way (if you have time) is to actually cut the sections with a knife so as to not miss any juicy goodness. When I was at the women's retreat, a friend saw me cutting out each section of grapefruit and helpfully demonstrated a faster and more effective method of using the grapefruit knife. I didn't mind - at the time I was hungry - but it began to bother me, like I'd missed something important and I didn't know why. I realized that somehow over the years grapefruit eating has become a centering and meditative practice for me. I've developed a routine in which I carefully cut around each section (in order, counter-clockwise), eat each section (again, in the same direction), and then I go around again through each section with my spoon to scrape out any bits that I missed with the knife. Finally, I squeeze the grapefruit carefully into my spoon and eat the juice; repeat until the grapefruit is wrung dry. Any seeds I removed as I ate go back into the grapefruit remains to head to the trash.

In order to get as much grapefruit out, I have to be intentional and focus on each section at a time. I concentrate on the angle of the knife and keeping rind and section membranes from the parts I want to eat. It centers me, focuses my mind, and ends in a blissful taste of heaven. It's meditation with immediate purpose and gratification, and I sense that it's somehow a microcosm for the process of meditation in a general sense. I'm still trying to find the words to explain that thought. But I know it's true for me, because many grapefruits have gone rotten in my refridgerator during stressful times when I make the choice not to eat one because I haven't got the time, or I just don't want to face what may surface if I slow down long enough to carefully section one.

Why bother putting this much intent into eating fruit? Well, if I just quickly hack away at it and gobble it up, I'll most likely be wasting food and the joy of flavor... and that's just not done!

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Fasting and Blood Sugar
Our last two sermons have focused on or mentioned the discipline of fasting. One thing that both priests mentioned was that one of the spiritual side effects or a possible purpose of fasting is that when you're hungry all your bad traits tend to come to the surface, like anger and irritability and pride, not to mention any emotional issues you have relating to food itself. They indicated that fasting is one tool God uses to bring us to a point of dealing with those aspects of our personality.

These sermons came at the same time that I was studying about nutrition and diabetes and other things like that. Fasting or not, when my blood sugar crashes I get angry and irritable and pissed off that I can't handle this stuff (pride?). These emotional responses are offical symptoms of hypoglycemia and low glucose levels. While these are (or can be) serious medical conditions and should be treated as such, and folks with these conditions should work closely with their doctors when considering a religious fast, I find contemplating the ties between the topics very interesting. I'd already been wondering about the link between food and emotional response, but hadn't thrown the spiritual into that mix.

I bet God did that on purpose.

Paradigm Shift

Every time I think of the word 'paradigm' I relive the Salad Years skit from my Wheaton days. Salad Years was the student TV show, and one skit was two people imitating the Sesame Street two-headed monster doing a compound word thing. They did 'paradigm', except instead of 'para-dime' they said 'para-diggum'. It was amusing. I think you had to be there.

("para"...."diggum"...."para"...."diggum"...."PARADIGGUM!" "hey, there goes my dignity!")

Looovely.

And also very off-track.

Anyway, yesterday morning the phone woke me up, which is never a good way to start any day. But the weather was nice, and aside from being groggy I was mostly pleasant. The phone call was Frances from the mortgage company calling to verify when would be a good time to schedule closing on our refinance. She said she was spending the day filling out the forms for us and we'd probably close Thursday (today) or Friday afternoon. This was about... 9:30. OK, great, we've been waiting for a closing date for a month now. Fantastic!

I go about the morning, doing my morning things, and get ready to settle into schoolwork after lunch. The phone rings, and Frances tells me that not only can we not close on the refinance, but our home didn't even qualify for that loan in the first place. The loan officer was supposed to have checked our property values in their database, which apparently he didn't; so the only way we could continue is if we have a minimum of 10K out of pocket to bring with us. So not cool. So the refinance is cancelled, we're trying to see if we can get our non-refundable application fee (minus the assessment cost) back because the guy should have known we couldn't apply for it. We haven't heard back yet.

While I was finishing up on the phone with Frances (and trying not to throw my phone through the screen on the porch) our adoption case worker beeped in. She called back when I was off the phone, just to tell us that the homestudy she promised would be done by either last or this Friday hadn't been started yet. I'm not upset, there's good reasons, but I'm disappointed. Check the adoption blog for more details on that call.

So. Two upsetting and potentially life-changing things; but really it was a matter that in both cases we'd spent the last weeks or months anticipating a more comfortable and responsible moving-forward kind of life. I spent the rest of the day making calls and rearranging our financial goals and realigning my mental concepts of the near future. And relaying this all to Lanse, who was none-too-pleased as I was but processes things differently. It was an... interesting... rest of the day. Aside from a discussion reply or two, schoolwork wasn't part of it. But Lanse allowed an attack of Demon Housekeeper and stress-cleaned the main living areas and our bedroom, a quality of his in which I am very pleased. I just wish stress didn't have to be the trigger.

Some positive things happened though too. I wrapped up loose ends on the property tax snafu, and we actually can pay our mortgage and live off our income "comfortably" (in quotes, because we personally don't need much to feel comfortable; others would find our budget restrictive) and I finally got our March-April budget sorted out. We don't need the refinance to afford the house, and that's a huge sigh of relief.

That said, a little bit extra would be a great thing so we can start paying down some loans, so I'm wanting to put a little more focus in the concept of an Etsy shop with my quilting and jewelry stuff. I'm hoping to get the beading ladies at the game store to teach me some cool stuff that I can sell or give with Christmas in mind. Christmas took a big chunk out of our December budget last year, so anything I can do ahead would be good.

And then there's always schoolwork. Sigh. I suppose I should get to it.

Right now...

There is no breeze, a very uncommon thing on a cool overcast day on the coast. The windows are open and the house is filled with a fresh and slightly damp smell of spring. Over the last two days a soft rain has fallen in ten minute increments every couple of hours. The warm orange glow of the lamp and the purring love of a cat somehow makes the battle of budget creation a little more palatable. I doubt that anything could make financial organization warm and fuzzy, but if it could be done, this would be the right mood for it.

Smoke

I am completely in love with the flavor of smoke. I rediscovered Smoky Sharp Cheddar cheese and realized that what I crave in cheese, meat, barbeque sauce... you name it (except maybe baked goods)... is a rich smoke flavor. So if you ever decide to gift me with food, there's a tip.

Just thought I'd share.

I also just realized that 'smoke' is one of those words that look really strange after a short bit.

Smoke.

Smoke smoke smoke smoke.

See?

Ode to Cow (not for vegetarians)

In our last episode, I was waxing philosophical on one thing or another, I don't quite remember now. Since then, I worked on week 1 of new term's homework, went on our 10th anniversary 5-star resort weekend from Thurs-Saturday morning, got the stomach flu from Sat evening through Monday (no, it wasn't food poisoning), did more homework, suffered emotional drama over adoption issues (internal, no news yet), and played a lot of Puzzle Pirates. I am willing to delve into more detail on any of those events, and may yet do so (though I'll hold off on flu details, as I hope to keep my few readers), but it's 10:30 p.m. and I can't think straight.

So until that time, I will leave you with the following brief prayer that sprang to mind at our hamburger lunch and left us rolling in sacrilegious laughter (we didn't actually pray this, it was at the end of the meal. I don't think God minded, since we really were grateful):

Thank you, Lord, for yummy food
Thank you, Lord, for food that mooed

Thank you, Lord, for ketchup sweet
I will put it on my meat.

Amen.

A baffling blessing...

For the first time in years... possibly even decades... this particular most amazing thing happened to me today: I walked out of the house to buy some jeans, drove to a store, walked to the children's department, tried on crop jeans, found five (5!) that fit, bought three, and went home.

I got blue jeans with butterflies (butterflies seem to be really in this year), some darker blue denim with a cuff that looks like these with a different belt (teal with a big butterfly buckle), and a dressy black blue jean with dark gold stitching and a gold sequined belt. They don't have that one on the website.

Those of you who know me personally will understand why this is so incredibly amazing. Clothes shopping (when it's needed on a schedule, and I haven't just accidentally run across something) is humiliating torment for me that typically takes two to three weeks of repeated and severe self-esteem beatings while going to store after store after store. Today's experience is, frankly, unheard of.

Plus: with the sale prices that started today and clearance, these three pair listed at $32/pair totaled to a whopping $47. All 5 would have cost almost $160 without sales, and with them rang up to $76. I really wish we'd had that available, but even the $47 is stretching it.

Lord, thank you, and please provide overwhelming blessings for the person who invented capri pants. Or crop pants, or what I guess they're now calling dusters or something like that. They're all the same idea, and they fit. Amen.

Labels

Through the weekend, Jo used stories of women in the Bible to discuss what God intended women - us - to be. On Saturday she covered Rachel and Leah from the book of Genesis, specifically from Ch. 29: "¹⁷ Leah had weak eyes, but Rachel was lovely in form, and beautiful." The point here was how labels given to a person can be either simple explanations or identity defining things. These labels on Leah and Rachel proved to be so defining of their self-esteem and identity that it sculpted everything that we are able to see of their lives and their children's lives, resulting in Rachel's son Joseph saving the Israelites from starvation.

When we got into our groups, the assignment was to identify our own labels. Once done, she asked us (no response required) to think about whether they were healthy or unhealthy, and whether or not they played a fundamental role in our personal identity and self-esteem.

The strange thing is that the only labels I could think of that I knew and that were placed on me by others were from my childhood and teenage years. [I will insert here that there are labels given directly by others such as "this is my shy/tomboy/pretty/smart child", labels given by society based on things like where you live or wear, and labels that can be assigned to yourself inside your own head that represent what you think of yourself. In our group we only discussed those labels placed on us by other individuals.] I know exactly who I was understood to be when I was younger, and I think they were mostly good things: outgoing, friendly, self-accepting, resilient, smart, resourceful, talkative, perhaps a bit naive. I've heard all these things lately from people describing me back then.

But then Jo made the point, what happens when "the happy one" has a bad day, "the introvert" who speaks slowly has something to say, or "the smart one" fails a test? What happens when the outgoing, self-accepting, smart, and resilient person feels suddenly abandoned and terrified, experiences PTSD and depression, fails out of school, and begins to realize how angry she is about herself?

What happens is (following some therapy and family support, God's sudden neon-sign pointing to a purpose, and truck-loads of prayer) you get Me, right now. But for whatever reason, I have absolutely no idea what people see me as now. I have no concept of what labels I may or may not have picked up since I was the me I used to be. Whether that's because I'm much more cautious now (a label?) or just because I've been a lot less social in the last few years and not many people know me, I really don't know. But the last time I was able to define myself in concrete terms appears to be Freshman year of college. And frankly, that's really disturbing. I tend to be a very concrete thinker in general, and I feel like if I can't define myself concretely I must be shades of gray... which somehow feels not too far from fading out entirely.

I'm glad that Jo said that labels can be healthy as well as unhealthy. As much as I dislike being placed into a mental box or category and all the expectations that come with it, labels can help clarify and define a purpose. Ask any pretending preschooler: labels can make a random inconvenient stack of wood discover purpose as "table" or "chair" or "baby bed" or "doghouse". The purpose of this exercise wasn't to deny all labels, but merely to identify them and their qualities.

Maybe taking some time to intentionally explore what my current labels are could help me understand better what my purpose is at the moment.

"Retreat"

When we arrived at the retreat we signed up for a small group in which we were to discuss whatever questions our speaker, Jo, asked us to discuss. On the first evening we grouped to meet one another and our question was "to you, what does 'retreat' mean?" There was brief clarification on whether they meant 'retreat' or 'a retreat' such as we were on, and decided we could answer either.

Most of the folks in my group thought of retreat as a good thing. A refreshing time away from the stresses of life. A time to rest and relax and pull a breath to return to the real world.

My idea was completely different from everyone else. I don't know if this is because of what I'd read recently, but the only thing I could see was that 'retreat' is what you do when you're in the middle of a battle and you're losing. In the case of medieval style battles (I don't know much about modern warfare) retreating is not considered shameful; wise battle leaders retreat with their armies when necessary... to higher ground, to a more strategically important location, to reassess and develop a new plan of attack. Possibly to begin a new process of negotiations among leaders, or to provide medical assistance to the wounded. Retreat is not a peaceful thing, it's a terrifying thing. It means that defeat is on the horizon unless you start making some changes. It means that if you don't quickly begin to relearn your enemy and identify their goals, to predict their moves more accurately and stand up to them, you may lose your kingdom to another ruler.

All of this seems to happen at every church retreat I've been to. All of the emotional breakdown and rebuilding that occurred this weekend could be seen as a retreat from the spiritual battles we experience every day in our lives. For me however, Friday night to Sunday morning is never long enough to first see the current battle conditions, then to identify the problems in our first strategy, and finally to settle on a better plan. It always seems just long enough to identify the problems and panic, but we never have the time to develop the new strategy. Sometimes there's enough time to allow the Spirit to bring us calm and peace after the panic, but never enough to decide what to change in our lifestyles or what steps to take next. What to do to make things different.

Although I'd not been on a church retreat until now since High School, I'd say that stands true for those ones as well. We get all hyped up in worship and praise, God says "Yo, pay attention to *this*", we fall apart, support each other, and then we feel better... for the moment. But even in High School no one offered, "Okay, here's how we can move forward. Here's what you do next." Trust in God. Pray more. Read His word. Learn how to listen. Communicate with someone and share your pain. Those are all great things to do, but how? "Oh, just trust in God. He loves you and He's got it all under control." Great! How do I do that again? Does someone have a magic button that will help me trust in the areas I don't? Trusting is like caring; if you don't, you don't, and at least I have no idea how to make myself do it.

But I think that's okay. Becky and Jo both taught that this process is hard and messy, and that's the way it's supposed to be. Retreating from a battle is facing the blood and the wounded and the fact that things aren't going the way you thought they would. But we always seem to stop there... when do we see as a church family that the bandages are on, the healing's begun, we have a new plan, and then turn together to re-engage the battle?

Women's Retreat weekend

This past weekend was our church's Women's Retreat at Camp St. Christopher's. It was... well, I give it mixed reviews, but only because of my perspective. (Given that it's the only perspective I've got, I guess it'll have to do.) To clarify, it was very well done; the schedule was light enough to provide relaxation times but was also very challenging spiritually, which it was supposed to be. The people were (and are) wonderful; Jeannie et al did an amazingly fantastic job setting up and running the event. Jo was a fan-freakin'-tastic speaker. The food was very good and completely appropriate for my dietary needs (resulting in me not eating any of the extra food I brought along just in case). The setting was gorgeous

So, why mixed? First, I was completely exhausted. It was that kind of complete life-drained done that the past week of illness and adoption inspection/prep might cause. Secondly, despite the joyous experience of falling asleep on a screen porch to the sound of the ocean on Friday night, it was cold and I got somewhat freaked out by the large creature that was bending the palm tree and causing large branches and things to fall around. So I moved into the cabin to join the two snorers. For me, no sleep = very bad. I had to apologize to some folk after my attitude on Saturday morning. (Incidentally, if I snapped at you and don't recall or couldn't find you afterwards, I'm sorry! Tired is no excuse!) For Saturday night I moved up to the more hotel-like rooms because it was too hard to take the cabin's stairs, so I slept much better on Saturday. Thirdly, it was my first time at an event like this as an adult, so I really didn't know what to expect. A large part of my mind was held off at an analytical distance simply observing. The last time I went to a church retreat I was in High School and it was full of emotional wrenching and power struggles and, well, high school drama. So I'm innately distrustful of these kinds of situations. I'm glad to report this was... somehow, the same but also completely different. It was emotionally wrenching (see 'finally' point) but it was also a Safe Place, without the snarky teenage angst. It was simply different. Finally, it was a spiritual retreat with a speaker who challenged us. Which basically means this was soul-searching, exterior-image-peeling, defense-shattering kinds of things. About 100 women peeling away the layers (I prefer the cake vs. onion image, incidentally) with lots of crying, some excruciating wailing and screaming, and steps to healing. All very necessary, all very exciting at some level to see the Spirit work, but also all very, very hard. Exhausting.

On the way home, Cathy J asked me to summarize in a sentence or two what I took away from it. I couldn't manage that, since I came up with one concept that needed lots of sentences to explain. (Not a surprise, really.) That idea of 'what did God say to you' had been circulating throughout the last day, and most people were like 'well, I need to work more on *this*' or 'I need to let go of *this*' kind of things. Those things that were in their *this* were usually main topics of the lectures or the Sunday sermon. For me, it was a smaller (but maybe still large) concept: This stuff is work, and it is messy. And that's okay. Becky (our Priest) said it again on Sunday and it suddenly resonated really hard with me. I have the idea that I should be able to automatically accept those things that Just Are, because some things I have no control over. I know that I can't control some things, but I hadn't realized how angry I was about them... or I had at some level understood that I was angry, but felt I shouldn't be because it should be easy somehow or there really wasn't any point to being angry. Plus, I just hate when I fall apart and I get my shirt (or Lanse's shirt) wet and snotty and then I have a headache from crying and even though I feel better at the moment, it doesn't take care of the problem. So really, why bother? All it does is make a mess.

But that's okay. And sometimes that's necessary. Even if I'm upset about something I have no power to change, I can fall apart about it sometime. It's allowed.

So. Since this seems to be the only way I can successfully journal, I may be working through some things here. I will turn comments off unless I'm looking for advice. It's nothing personal. If you have my email address or IM and want to engage in a back-and-forth discussion, you do of course have the freedom to try it; just please trod carefully and don't be offended if I don't reply or choose not to answer your questions directly. I will not be discussing this on Facebook. In case it needed saying.

Stay tuned for potentially challenging stuff.

Or, I might just get sick of soul-searching and you can toss the last couple bits. You just never know!

Mini-Quiche

Making a quiche used to sound so intimidating (just like custards). Then I realized that quiches are just scrambled egg pie with stuff in it. So I make quiche a lot now.

I made little bitty quiches last night and I think I'll eat some for lunch. I have probably shared this before, but I'm gonna do it again. So there. Um.

Note that these are crustless, all the better to avoid carbs. If you season it well, leaving out the crust does not avoid flavor.

Preheat oven to 300F.

Chop the following into little itty bitty tiny pieces.
green onion
mushrooms
ham

Really, you could itty-bitty-tiny-piece any kind of veggie or meat you know you enjoy in omelette form. Just remember that these are small so what you put in must be chopped up small so it all fits. Next time I plan to use asparagus. Mmmm.

Anyway, so it's all chopped up. Get your mini-muffin tins out and spray em with your non-stick butter spray stuff. If you want to line them instead, use foil; the paper ones get too soggy. In each cup put a pinch of each of your lovely bits of stuff you just chopped up.

Top with shredded cheese of your choice. I used shredded Mexican blend from Kraft.

Note, I filled the cups nearly to the top with stuff. Cuz I like a lot of stuff in my food. It's okay. Really.

In a bowl, beat some eggs with some milk. Yes, this can be very violent. I was making 24 mini-quiches and ended up using 5 eggs with a little bit left over. I tend to eyeball the amount of milk, but it was much closer to "a splash" than anything actually substantial. I like my quiche to be very eggy, where there isn't other stuff.

In the beaten egg/milk mix kosher salt, pepper, garlic salt, and savory to taste. If I'd had the motivation to go out across the yard with scissors I'd have added fresh rosemary or marjoram. But I didn't. Using some sort of useful dipping and pouring device (I used a 1/4 cup measure but didn't actually measure with it) fill each little cup with egg stuff. Work slowly so it can soak itself down through all the stuff. You can fill it pretty full; these didn't really overflow.

Bake for half-an-hour-ish. I started with 10 minutes and then rotated them because my oven's uneven. I did another 10 and took them out, and really they should have been done more. I was fooled by the cheese browning on top. However, *note* that I do actually plan to reheat them in the microwave, which should take care of the extra cooking. Straight from the oven at 20 minutes they were cooked, but kind of damp... like some people might leave scrambled eggs looking just a little bit wet but not really. So they won't kill you if you eat them.

Unless they're ninja death eggs.

Just this minute someone gave me a wonderful egg baking idea! I don't think I understood it the way she meant it, but I might want to try it. This shall take some pondering. And perhaps some experimentation. And, definitely, another trip to the store. Details at... well... whenever I get around to it.

Ok. So the moral of this story is: Make and Eat Mini-Quiche. It's easy! And very tasty. With toast and jam and a big glass of milk. In fact, I'm going to go do that right now.

Childish bitterness

I have always wanted a tree house or a fort outside. It wasn't something that ever happened when I was a child, so I was thrilled when we found this house had a playset with an upper deck. Unfortunately, the upper deck was badly braced and unsafe and the adoption safety inspector said we had to either rebuild or take down the upper part. So, two weeks ago we (Lanse) demolished it, since we didn't have the tools to do the reconstruction work. It was a very hard decision to make and we were sad.

This weekend the neighbors behind us built a really tall, expensive, and perfect play fort with window screens and rope ladders and everything right across the fence from where our pathetic demolished playset stands.

It feels incredibly childish, but I can't pass a back window without wanting to cry.

?

I'm working on writing my final paper for my final class of the term. For whatever reason, I keep accidentally typing '?' instead of '.'. There's apparently something very comforting when I hit the left shift and ? with both pinkies. No idea why. Maybe they're tired of being left out.

There's also the distinct possibility that '?' pretty much defines my state of being today. It's been one of those '?' days.

Egg (un)Salad Sandwich

I like to experiment with making hard food easy, and I figured this would be one of the easiest things to modify for lunch. Everyone knows the egg salad sandwich. I eat them often. For some reason, actually preparing it drives me batty most times. So today I made an egg unsalad sandwich.

Hard cook some eggs. I prefer steaming them just long enough for the yolks to be not quite done, about 10 or 11 minutes. Alton Brown steams his for 12.
Take 2 slices of bread. On one side put Miracle Whip (or mayo, yuck!), on the other put mustard.
On the MW/mayo side put pepper and paprika
On the mustard side put kosher salt (you can see it on the mustard side so you know how much you have)
Slice an egg; put egg slices on one slice of bread. Today I sliced two eggs and only used the slices with yolk in it.
Slap the other slice on and eat it. (Also eat the white egg slices you didn't put in the sandwich. Don't be wasteful.)

Honestly? It wasn't all that tasty. If I do it again it'll need some serious tweaking. But I thought I'd share anyway.


Oooh, garlic. Yeah. I should have added garlic.

Gardening

I am currently planning this year's container veggie garden. I learned a lot last year about what not to do, so while this year will still be pathetic (as I'm a self-taught beginner) it'll hopefully not be quite as pathetic. I'm frustrated with the fact that despite living on the coast, all the online garden places keep telling me that I'm in Zone 8, along with most of inland and south of us. They claim that we shouldn't plant until the last frost in April, but the trees here are budding and it's only February. Planting in April would only give two months (or less) before we're living in the 90s temp range. So I may just go ahead with things. We'll see. Either way, it's making me hungry.

Things I Grew Somewhat Successfully Last Year

• Tomato (2 varieties)
• Green Pepper
• Basil
• Rosemary
• Marjoram

Things I Killed Dramatically Last Year

• Cucumbers
• Strawberries

Things I'm Contemplating for This Year

• Tomato
• Green Pepper
• Dwarf French Beans
• Basil (new plant, old plant died in winter; Rosemary and Marjoram are still good)
• Dill (anti-bad-bug herb)
  
• Green/Spring Onions
• Strawberries (done right, none of this silly pre-packaged cute pot kit things)

I also intend to add some flowers around this year to keep the bad bugs away and the polinational bugs close. Some, but not all:

• Geraniums (anti Japanese beetle)
• Marigolds
• Nasturiums
• Zinnia
  
• Asters

I also need some tall wire tomato holder-uppers, and I need to see if I can find a fine-mesh crate to put over the strawberries. Apparently they make fruit cages to keep birds away, but they're enormous and made for walk-in greenhouses. I also have to find a corner of the yard to dump out last year's old dirt. Also, our spray nozzle on the hose cracked because we were dumb and forgot to drain the water before it froze. Oops.

I hope the garden centers are ready for me!

Perspective

Perspectives are interesting things. From my perspective, what I've done today is:

• Caught up with my friends' news in Iowa
• Talked with a friend in Texas
• Checked in with a concern on a friend in Minnesota
• Dream-journaled
• Done some creative writing
• Briefly met with other adopting moms to discuss a church program
• Updated my family and friends on my week
  
• Double checked with the bank about a money transfer
• Attended a meeting regarding University advertising
• Looked up recipes (and then cooked them)
  
• Completed the rest of Winter term's assignments for EDUC 1012, which included some research
• Investigated a preschool mentoring program

From my mother's perspective, if I were to ask... (and my backside would agree with her):

• You've been frittering at that computer for six hours now... get up off your bum!

Harp and Flame (a dream)

I was standing in a football field and the stands were full, I was part of the organization for a game that was about to start. It felt like maybe high school or little league in a small town where everyone goes to the game. A very old man, maybe 80s or 90s was walking down the stairs toward the front row and everyone started yelling 'Nazi! Nazi!' and chanting 'Auschwitz!' He froze at the bottom of the stairs, looking really frail and hunched over, like he wanted to sink into the floor. Then a little girl came over to him and led him to his seat. Everyone knew this little girl was Jewish. He sat in his seat with his hands over his face until the yelling died away. Before the scene changed, I was aware that the community had decided to shun the little girl because of her forgiveness, and that this man was probably in danger from people.

Then I was walking along the street, which was an inaccurate version of Howard Street in front of Jenks in Wheaton. On the corner of University, there was a large old Victorian row-style house; it was kind of like well-maintained old downtown brownstone, beautiful, enormous bowing oak trees all around. Now I was the little Jewish girl, grown up a bit. Walking with my head slightly bent, but on high alert from anyone who might come at me. The man from the ball game lived in the Victorian house, and I wanted to go visit him.

I was in the drawing room with him and his daughter (in her 40s or 50s) who took care of him. It was all dim in gold tones, soft and old, vaguely like a British drawing room, but clean and orderly. The man showed me a large book that looked somewhat like a large history encyclopedia from home school suppliers. He was quietly but insistently showing me things of great importance. He showed me a symbol in the book; it was a very small medal plaque shape in bronze and red mottled fire colors, with a golden harp on the center right and a large red gold flame swooshing across the left corner. The image was worked into the illustration, in the way that an artist might work his name into a painting but make it visible only if you're looking for it. Then the man sat down across from me to talk.

I realized that the man was James Hong, and had trouble focusing for a while because I'd only ever seen him in Big Trouble in Little China as the scary bad guy. He said, "As an actor it's important - vital - to represent the history accurately." I remember being relieved that he really was being an actor and wasn't actually the Nazi man, and was thinking over and over about his role as Lo Pan and wondered if I ought to bring it up, but decided not to because it wasn't in the "Jewish Girl forgives Nazi Man" script.

Some period of time passed. It was overcast, as though it were about to rain but hadn't yet, and I approached the house again. This time I entered the door on the corner of the house into the store that looked out on University. It was a socks-and-shoes store, but also sold other things. Again, it was all slightly dim, in browns and golds, but neat. I browsed the sock rack and then turned to the man's daughter, who ran the store. I asked her if the socks had arrived yet with the specific details we had previously discussed. We were speaking in code, as there were other customers in the store. (Who had no interest in me, thankfully.)

She went into the stock room, and I could see the shelves with a library ladder through the door. She came back and handed me a pair of socks in swirling reds and golds with the harp and flame stitched into them. She also handed me a box, kind of like a cigar box or one of those yellow assorted chocolate boxes you see at drug stores. Inside the box was the man, who had passed away in his sleep quietly, happily, and forgiven. They had managed to reduce him in size so that he could fit comfortably in the cigar box. Beside him was something long and cylindrical wrapped in light blue flannel. The dream ended with a sense of sadness, but also some relief that he would no longer suffer from the past.

Harp and flame emblem in my dream.

Catching up... again

I seem to be taking long breaks in blogging now. (Long being, ya know, a few days... which some consider normal...) Anyway. That happens when I get so stressed out that depression slugs me upside the head, and I bury myself in some computer game (thanks Sarah) and convince myself that it's acceptable because there's Real People there! It's a social life.... right? RIGHT?? Ya, right.

Anyway, the financial problems of yesterweek have been mostly resolved. The property tax form was filed, though we haven't heard back yet. We received our home refinancing packet, I read every single word and wrote down questions, played phone tag, got my questions answered, and put it in the mail. Sallie Mae approved my new school loan even though I didn't finish my FAFSA (apparently the FAFSA is for the new loans in June, and I needed to just renew with Sallie for Spring Term.) FAFSA's waiting on our tax return. Our taxes are nearly done, but we have to wait for the revised property tax form. We made it to the end of our budget cycle without starving. (Well, we did let ourselves get really hungry, Dave would be mad, but only because we had $24 left in grocery for the final two days and didn't want to risk running over if we went to the store.) We realized that between our brick-and-mortar bank and ING we were getting confused and needed all our records in one place, so I spent yesterday uploading everything into Quicken online. Now we can see all our money, which is very nice, but the budget function on Quicken is quite incompatible with the way in which I budget, not to mention that we budget from the 15th and not the 1st because the mortgage takes most of the 1sts paycheck, so it's not transferring budgetary numbers properly for me. Gads, I'm such the nerd.

Other than that, school term's almost done. This is the last week of Winter term, and I have one short paper to write and a short list of web resources to submit by Sunday night. I'm still pulling a 4.0, but this CD class has been a pain in the behind due to the instructor's lack of presence. Then we have next week off. Yay! So if I finished homework today I could have a week and a half off! (I probably won't.) The following Monday starts Spring term and a course on Childhood Health and Safety, along with its Making Connections "lab" class. Rootin'-tootin' fun, lemme tell ya.

Spook has finished his meds and is acting much better, which is a huge relief. This was liquid amoxycilin, which I can't spell, but it meant as soon as Lanse squirted it in his mouth, Spook could spit and spray and shake and splatter everything within ten feet with it. While Lanse claims that pilling a cat is harder than this, it's certainly less messy. I'm glad that's done with.

Next Friday morning we have our Fire inspection and then I head off to our church's Women's Retreat at Camp St. Christopher on the beach. The weekend after that Lanse and I go to Woodlands for our anniversary weekend (which isn't until the end of May but we could get a good deal now because it's off season). So, school vacation + women's retreat + 10th anniversary bed & breakfast... sounds like I'm lined up for some relaxation and refocusing! The timing's definitely good. Also, maybe, all depends, the last chance for some time if God works the adoption stuff quickly.

Finally, I'm working with our clergy to develop an adoption resource for our church, since a lot of members have adopted or are currently or are somehow otherwise related to it. "We" is pretty much all me for the moment as I organize some resources. Now if only people would get back to me...

Valentine from God

Through Matthew West, "I love you more"

Take a look at the mountain
Stretching a mile high
Take a look at the ocean
Far as your eye can see
And think of me

Take a look at the desert
Do you feel like a grain of sand?
I am with you wherever
Where you go is where I am
And I'm always thinking of you
Take a look around you
I'm spelling it out one by one

I love you more than the sun
And the stars that I taught how to shine
You are mine and you shine for me to
I love you
Yesterday
And today
And tomorrow
I'll say it again and again
I love you more

The last five days

Over the weekend we had some fun social times, as well as annoying homework times, and some migraine headache times. Also, while all the cats had been sleepy and sluggish during the cold snap, Spook decided to stay that way when it got warm again. Then he started limping. Anyway. Over all, we had no idea what was in store for us this week.

I'd scheduled to do some work at church on Monday morning, and I had to go at least to take back something I'd forgotten to take on Sunday. When I woke up we noticed that Spook was really not doing well, so we scheduled a vet appointment for 10:15; I poured coffee in my travel mug, drove to church, got distracted on a project, frantically drove home and got the cat and drove to the vet late, where we sat for an hour to get a diagnosis of a UTI and some medication and give them more money we didn't have.

Got home around noon having not eaten yet, sugar crashed, ate, napped, then zoned out playing stupid games for a while (thanks, Sarah!). Wasted the day, knowing that Tuesday was specially reserved for 1) homework and 2) quick budget transition for March.

Tuesday laughed in my face. Har de har. I decided to do the quick budget stuff and settle in. Found one tiny discrepancy, grabbed the stack of papers in filing to find one form. Found another form.

This would be the form that somehow went to the filing stack that said, "Oh, by the way, your property taxes have increased from 660 to 2947 and you either owe Escrow 2500 by March 1 or we're raising your monthly payments by 500."

Panic ensued, then a half hour phone call with the current mortgage people, and then a 2 hour call to refinance the house. Joy. Suffice it to say, I didn't get any homework done yesterday.

This morning, a meeting at church for VBS planning and a good long talk with my friend Cathy. Vented, prayed, cried. Got home, talked to my dad who calmed me down and told me to call our cousin-realtor who helped us buy the house. He told us what we forgot to do a year ago, (file a form that came with our closing papers) so we downloaded a form to take to the tax assessor's and hopefully they'll move us back into the 4% range instead of the 6% which should cut it back down by at least 1500. I'm nervous about the little clause that says if we didn't file within their time frame we forfeit the right to file, so that's our prayer right now. That they'll let us file and recalculate our taxes.

In the end I know it'll be okay; once we finish the refinance (if the house assesses where we need it to) the monthly payment will be back in the safe zone even if we can't get the tax office to change the percentage. If we do get it changed and get the refinance as well, we're golden.

So we'll be a bit crunched for the next couple months until the refinance closing, moreso than we were before. But we'll make it. Money's really freaking annoying.

And now that I've shared all of this, I really should finish the homework due tonight.

Big Daddy Weave

Really weird name, but that's what you get when you go into rock music. I guess. I've found that one of the best ways I worship and get inspired is through Christian radio. I've been listening to His Radio out of Columbia this past year, and just this week they hit the air at 100.5 FM from Charleston, so now there's no static. Yay!

Big Daddy Weave has provided more fuel for my recent faith introspection this week. Here's the chorus:

Big Daddy Weave Lyrics - What Life Would Be Like

[Chorus]
He made the lame walk
And the dumb talk
He opened blinded eyes to see
That the sun rises on His time
Yet He knows our deepest desperate need

And the world waits
While His heart aches
To realize the dream
I wonder what life would be like
If we let JESUS live through you and me

Dear Kira, Spook & Colin

Our cats got mail yesterday, one for each of them, from their doctor. Kira's was on top. It reads:

Dear Kira,
We want to thank you and your family for choosing The Animal Hospital to take care of all your veterinary needs.

We strive to keep up with the latest technology and health issues to keep you healthy and happy for many years. As a part of helping to keep you healthy, we will remind your parents to bring you in for a yearly wellness exam, vaccines and bloodwork.

[cut: more of same]

Sincerely,
Your vet


I've been kinda iffy on my opinion of these people, but this really heaps up the + column. This was great!

A prayer

Brandon Heath; Give me your Eyes

Looked down from a broken sky
traced out by the city lights
my world is a mile high
best seat in the house tonight
Touched down on the cold black tile
hold on for the sudden stop, breathe in the familiar shot
of confusion and chaos
all those people going somewhere why have I never cared

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Lord, give me your eyes so I can see
Yea-ah-ah Yea-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah

Step out on a busy street
See a girl and our eyes meet
Does her best to smile at me
To hide what´s underneath
there´s a man just to her right
Black suit and a bright red tie
Too ashamed to tell his wife
He's out of work
he's buying time
All those people going somewhere
Why have I never cared

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Lord, give me your eyes so I can see
Yea-ah-ah Yea-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah

I´ve been there a million times!
A couple of million eyes
just move and pass me by
I swear I never thought that I was wrong
Well I want a second glance
So give me a second chance
To see the way you see the people all alone

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
The ones that are far beyond my reach
give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Lord, give me your eyes so I can see
Yea-ah-ah Yea-ah-ah Yeah-ah-ah Yeah-ah

Knowing God

This is an entry I made in my diary on March 13th, 2000. I stumbled across it lately, and it gives a really good perspective at the end that I want to share. I have changed a lot since then, and the contents of this entry was a big part of the beginning of that change.

"I'm reading a book by Phillip Yancy entitled Disappointment with God. He spent the first half of the book exploring God's personality. I've maintained that I've kept hold of a "personal relationship with God" despite how I felt about his followers, but now I'm not so sure.

I have a personal relationship with Stephanie [my college roommate]. The very first thing I set out to do, and I continue to do as often as we come into contact with one another, is find out - truly seek - who she is. How she feels about things, what she likes, what she doesn't know about. I have never done that with God, even though we're in contact with one another (or should be) constantly. I have never read the Scriptures specifically to find out who God is.

I know the Torah books (and most of the Old Testament) are interesting history lessons, prophets give instructions and cover judgments and the End Times, Jesus is love and the way to salvation, and the rest are commands, stories and the end of the world. Can one honestly have a "personal relationship with God" and not know who He is beyond the Sunday School rote responses?

That's like saying Stephanie is a close friend because I know her hair is brown. And if that's the kind of relationship I have with God, there's not much "personal" in my faith."


(And a 2009 answer to my posed question, the answer is NO! You must dig! You must SEEK the desires and face of God. How He feels about things, what He likes and dislikes, how He can be a good friend to me, and what I can do to be a good friend to Him. If you want to know His will for you, if you want to rest the peace He offers, you have to be willing to try. Relationships, even here on earth, take hard work. We're created in His image, so why should a relationship with God be any different?)

Thoughts on faith

When our children are young we teach them a song that goes, "Oh, how I love Jesus... because He first loved me."

And then around Junior High, we teach them, "Be careful not to fall in love with love."

***************

Being a Christian is like attending Harvard when everyone at Yale expects you to show up. During high school, you get to see a wide variety of academic options. You make your choice, and Harvard sends you the letter that says, "Yes! We think you're ideal for this program! Come! WE LIKE YOU!" and you enroll. So, at that point (connecting our metaphor) you've agreed to follow Christ.

Sorry to break it to you folks, but faith and trust? Good Christian behavior? Knowing God's will? HARD WORK. You're accepted to Harvard. You love it. They love you. But you have to attend classes, read your textbooks, practice your skills, do what your professors tell you to do and not only talk about it. If you need help, the faculty will do their best for you when you ask... (of course, heavenly help is exactly perfect!)

Those pissed off Yale folks might egg your car, or steal your homework from your table at Starbucks when you run to the bathroom. They may even get some Princeton folks to ambush you at a football game, or get another Harvard person (whose parents made them go there) to steal your underwear and hang them on every flagpole on campus. Or worse, they get sweet and cozy and start to convince you that Harvard really isn't as great as you know it is. Life gets harder when you make a choice and the previously friendly folks become opponents trying to get you back on their side.

Living for Christ needs focus and motivation, and a willingness to seek out understanding of hard concepts and choices. In the end, you'll still have a "Harvard" degree, but it's up to you if you graduate with a D+ average or summa cum laude.

Adoption inspection

We passed with flying colors! It wasn't complicated, but it was important. I have to go fall down now; the adrenaline rush and now letdown has caused a bit of exhaustion.

More details at 11:00... or, well, whenever I get around to writing them. I'll probably put them on the adoption blog, so check there later on.

Thanks for your prayers, everyone. We could feel them! We even slept last night!

Preparing for Thursday

Thursday morning around 11:30 is our first county/state inspection for the adoption. I haven't posted here because pretty much all of our weekend has revolved around the last-minute projects we had to do for it, as well as just doing homework and going to church. If you would like more of an update on the last couple of days, please check our adoption blog!

Yesterday

Yesterday was a very lovely day. I got older. :)

Lanse woke me up nicely, and I went to Publix to get some breakfast goodies for my Bible Study group. The people at the store seemed to know it was my birthday, (not really) but they were really nice and the bagger hauled things for me and gave me extra pieces of firewood and even held my car door for me, like a chauffeur. I felt special. Then I went to buy a mocha, cuz I haven't in a while, and I ended up with a NINJA MINT mocha. Cuz I'd only ordered a regular sugar-free and the coffee girl thought I'd ordered mint. She offered to change it, but I like mint so I kept it. It wasn't bad. Mint was so sneaky!

Bible Study was great, we ate birthday strudel and strawberries and they sang to me, and we talked about Job and everyone checked in on life. This group is amazing. We seem to also spend a good deal of time discussing how wonderful the group is; maybe I should whip up some Mutual Admiration Society cards.

Anyway, I came home and spent all afternoon playing on my silly new game addiction, Puzzle Pirates. It's one of those games that have lots of real people playing at once, and we're pirates, but like... when ships attack each other and we sword fight, we go one on one in a game of Tetris. So they make like... sailing is one kind of game, gunning is another, bilging and carpentry are others... and so on. So I wasted my day happily. Also, while I did that I was also listening to a lecture from school on social networking. Kinda boring, it was basically an introduction to Linkedin and Facebook and things. Took the quiz at the end which told me that I have an excellent online persona in regards to it helping (or not hurting) my professional goals. This is good.

Then my JULIA called me! I miss my bestest friend ever, she's in frozen Minnesota. So we talked for a while and everything's good. I'd been calling and just missing her for a while, so it really was the best birthday present ever.

Speaking of birthday presents, Lanse gave me Stardust the movie, which we'll probably watch tonight. Yay! Except he's on call... so I don't know.

Lanse took me to dinner at Tomatoes, an Italian restaurant that I like. The appetizers and desserts are excellent, and the atmosphere makes me feel completely at home and at peace, which is really weird. However, this is the second time we've been and the second main course that really didn't impress me at all. We had porcini crusted scallops for apps, veal marsala for main, and dessert was a really good thing I can't pronounce that had a custard on a thick biscuit crust with blackberries and raspberries and one other berry on top. It was really good.

When I went to Publix I'd gotten a bundle of firewood just for my birthday. I know it's not cost effective at all compared to actually buying a cord from somewhere. But I was in a hurry. So we spent the evening after dinner playing computer games/reading in the living room while messing with fire. I also talked to my brother and my mom, and a friend from church too. And then we went to bed late.

It was a great day.

Good study day

It's gray and rainy, but not too much. It's the perfect day for huddling down with a book. So I have my tea, my comfy pillows, my cats... and my textbook. Today, this is my study area (it was full of cats when I left to get the camera... they left before I got back):

Jen's coming over after work to help us prepare for the inspection. We love Jen. (We love her husband Luke too, but he's not coming.) In any case, Jen doesn't know it yet (but will when she reads this!) but I'm experimenting on her with dinner. I'll post it later, when we've tasted it.

A fresh start...

In an effort to drag myself out of my depressed crazies with intention, I arranged to make excuse to do my homework at church today. I need a public place to ignore in order to actually focus on what I'm doing. But in order for me to be there, we all felt it was better for me to volunteer and do a couple odd jobs before settling in.

I arrived a bit after ten, hung out and chatted in the office, punched, collated and finished creation of the latest batch of directories for Cathy McG, finished the pamphlet I volunteered to do on Friday for the C4K project for Cathy J, ate some lunch, got the call to schedule the health inspection, freaked out and called family, and then opened my textbook... to see it was almost 2:00. I read about 10 pages and then came home. Still better than nothing.

Actually accomplishing helpful work at the church really made me realize how much ministry means to me. I enjoyed working at Grace Covenant with the school so much I know I want to do something like that, but I didn't realize how much of it was ministry work in general... I've focused my degree on the children, which was also a huge part of it, but it's the church environment over all that moves me, and I'd thought it was the classroom. I may start to refine my future plans, just based on this morning. This could be a good thing.

Then I came home, ate more, zoned out, arranged with mom to maybe get a free living room set (but we have to get a truck to move it from Charlotte, so it won't be ALL free) and then we biked up and down the street. We have a cul-de-sac on each end, so in the end it makes a nice longish ride for me. Plus it was cold, so we kinda booked it home.

I'm pleased. I think I'll have a much better time being responsible and taking care of myself if I just determine that I'll probably get around to it eventually, but there's no pressure. I work better that way.

No need for resolutions

Off and on this year I've been trying to get myself to exercise because I feel like a slug and my blood sugar would be helped as well. I kept trying little things that I've never liked doing because my grown-up brain thought that I should. It's the stuff New Year's resolutions are made of. Of course, that never works.

But now, my health woes are at a end-of-the-middle with the return of my beloved bicycle from the basement shop of Lanse's Uncle Chuck. She's a Schwinn from the 70s, with all the lovely retro shapes, and coaster brakes. Ta da!

Yes, she is in a rather sad shape, but Uncle Chuck fixed the wheels and replaced that silver part under the handlebars that joins up with the pink bit. It was originally too narrow and wobbled around a lot. Everything that needs doing right now is aesthetic - except for replacing the seat, which is now slightly too low; it's very functional, and I rode it around the block this afternoon. Let me say right now that eight years is much too long to keep muscles in any sort of shape. But I enjoy riding my bike, so there's an incredibly good chance that I'll finally start exercising.

So, part of next month's budget will go towards a new seat, some higher grade sandpaper than what we have left over from the oak cabinets, and some paint. I'm thinking either deep purple or bright teal. If I can find one, I'd like to also replace the emblem on the front.

Yay!