The Daily Oyster

I Should not be in Customer Service??

2012-01-03T14:27:00.000-08:00

I just recounted the following to my husband, only to be told that I shouldn't get a job in customer service.
I get a email requesting a renewal of equipment that reached its End of Life (EOL) 12/31/10 from a company other than the one that shows up in our files. We'll call that company, Company B. We do not support gear that is 2nd hand, as it is too expensive to certify that it has not been tampered with. Never fun to let a customer know that what they have just purchased is a several thousand dollar door stop.
The customer says that they got the box from their partner company, Company A. I can't find anything on the web that links Company A with Company B, as often is the case with mergers & spin-offs. Also Company A is in San Jose, California and Company B is in Vancouver. Also, Company A already upgraded away from the EOL hardware.
All signs point to a 2nd hand sale with the new customer aware of the "we don't re-license used hardware policy". They have called support and asked to get the box reset. Support has told them they cannot unless they get the box reassigned to their name. I'm telling them that we don't re-license boxes and that the right Account Manager would be happy to quote new equipment. They haven't liked our message of, "we won't support that box in any way, we'd be happy to sell you new hardware."
Despite this not being my territory, and my attempts at being clear about their options, Company B is still calling me.
Today's call:
"I spoke with support and they won't let me reset the box."
"No, they won't, as the box is EOL and we cannot support it."
"But I just want it reset. I don't need it to be supported. Why can't I just get it activated?"
"If you activate it, then you're likely to call support for assistance."
"Why would I do that?"
"Well, haven't you already called support about the box?"
That last statement popped his bubble and he just asked for the name and number of the Account Manager. I'm hoping that is my last call with the customer. I'm thinking they might feel the same way.

Science Experiment

2011-10-31T06:51:00.000-07:00

I've decided to do a follow-up study to R Soussignan's discoveries regarding how smiling causes an uplift in mood. http://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/12899366

Having further meditated on my dissatisfaction with my recent photos (see my last post), I think I also find that I don't look happy enough in pictures. When not posed, candid shots have recently found me with some pretty unpleasant expressions - revulsion, disdain, annoyance. I don't associate those emotions with myself, and feel my photos should not reflect feelings I don't think I feel. I want the photos to reflect to reflect my inner peace, unfortunately that may already be the case.

Back to my cunning plan; Instead of spending endless hours in therapy or meditation, I think I have a quick fix to some of my internal turmoil woes. I have been reflecting on the nature of the body and emotions. I believe it to be a two way street. Not only will I try to smile more - I'll channel that Buddha half smile at all time - I will release the tension from my shoulders.

While getting a massage a few years back the therapist told me that she has be trying to get my shoulders to relax and move away from my ears. According to her, every time she pushed my shoulders down, they popped right back up again. I thought it odd and now, I am SO much more tranquil and told the story to my massage therapist last week. She confirmed that my shoulders still like to creep up to my ears.

So, I've decided to spend a week or two consciously putting more space between the ears and shoulders. I expect this to impact my mood. No more sourpuss photos - just beauty and joy. Much cheaper than a face lift and less effort than finding zen.

Photos

2011-10-26T18:33:00.000-07:00

Right before I went on my first jog in 2 weeks I took a look at the photos that Marc had uploaded of our trips to England, Italy and Napa. I really didn't enjoy seeing myself. I recall thinking that I was photogenic when I was younger - even into my mid-20's. But now, in my mid-30's, I feel like every photo catches me at a bad angle.

As I pumped my arms and pushed through that 3rd mile at my 11 minute/mile pace. I envisioned myself thinner. What would I look like 40 lbs lighter? I haven't weighed that little since middle school. Would the loss of those pounds suddenly make me look like a celebrity? Would it fix mt stray hairs? Improve my make-up & wardrobe choices?

Coming down the final stretch, I realized that I might be looking for something in the photos that isn't there - the me of 10 years ago. I get compliments about my appearance, so I can't be as ugly as I see myself. And it dawned on me, the photos might look like a woman in her 30's rather than in her 20's. Not much I can do about that.

Not much chance that I'll get those extra 40 lbs off in the next year. I'm hoping to be pregnant in another 3 months and Marc doesn't let me diet when pregnant or nursing - something about not starving the baby. Maybe by the time I'm 40 I'll have the body I did when I was 15.

Transition

2011-08-21T07:20:00.000-07:00

I put off parenthood for a long time. Aside from the standard need to get established in the world, followed by finding the right person to breed with, there exists other internal resistance to parenthood. However, the desire for something new breached the egocentric levee with no dutch boy to plug the dyke.

Having a baby stretches my ego the same way a new yoga pose expands muscles long contracted. No longer am I in the spotlight of my own life, instead I'm sharing it with a egocentric human fragment. As my mother's life before me was merely a conceptual haze, so must mine be to Sebastian. Photos of parents, their stories and past couldn't be possible, as the child wasn't there to witness it. My mother exists as only my mother, having been delivered as an adult the same time as me. A picture of her graduating high school seems like a film still. She beams from behind her cat-eye glasses, topped off with the bouffant hair, so eager to go off to college. No, my mother was born with long straight hair and hippy clothes. I Look at Sebastian, and my own photos, my own life fades and discolors. Photos of enchanted college years crystallize; the magical moments dulling into a display of funny clothes and odd choices of interior design.

The child in me wants to scream at him, to validate her experiences: there were times without cell phones, tablet computers and cable TV. In college, I inked letters, stamped them and mailed them to my high school friends. During my year in Italy, I had no email. The world changed and I was a part of it.

My thirteen pound baby absorbs the spotlight and leaves me in the shadows. He now dictates my outfits (nursing tops), when I sleep (when he does), when I change clothes (when they are soaked by baby effluence), what I eat (5-7 servings of organic fruits & veg), what I do drink (water) and what I do not (caffeine & excessive amounts of alcohol). I cannot let him out of my sight without first finding someone else to mind him. No longer will I be running off to the circus or Ibiza or the store without thinking of what will happen to Baz.

Magic moments come when he smiles and sleeps. It took 36 years to get my life just right. The right job, the right income, the resources to do what I wanted when I wanted to do it. I finally sated the child in me. Now I've got the child outside of me to sate.

Political Hostage Taking

2011-08-13T13:36:00.000-07:00

Lately I've had a hard time with the news. I cannot stand to see what they are doing in Washington. I appalled that so many in Congress are OK with balancing our budget on the backs of the poor, infirm and elderly. This society is better than that - giving the Millionaires tax cuts while fighting a needless war in Iraq and reducing money for programs that give food to poor children.

What annoys me the most are the Tea Party's refusal to compromise. I'm not keen on compromise, I'd like to see Society run my way. However, I realize that not all Americans would support my Utopia. Thus we need to compromise; give & take. We can make changes to medicare AND increase taxes on those making over $1M. But the Tea Party won't budge.

The Tea Party has a Utopian vision of a Federal Government who's primary concern is that of American business. Fewer than 20 of the CEO's of Fortune 500 being anything other than White & Male. They feel the government shouldn't provide a safety net providing for the poor, the infirm and the old. Their ideology, as ideology always does, comes at the price of taking food from poor children, denying care to the sick and allowing the old to suffer. There is a lack of education funding, and thus no investment in the next generation. The driving force is, I want what I want and I want it now. Damn everyone else.

But like all ideologies - from The French Revolution to every attempt to implement Communism, their ends justify their means. No compromise is acceptable. Too bad if others want to live under different rules. Too bad if other citizens would like to see their money go to Planned Parenthood instead of wars. Their intransigent behavior riles me.

Why does the Catholic who is against abortion get to say that no money can go to Planned Parenthood? While my beliefs as a non-denominational spiritualist, don't get to halt my tax dollars from going to pay for these wars that violate all my morals?

As it is, we all pull together and we allot funds and taxes in an imperfect manner. It is a terrible system, yet better than all the others that have existing so far on this planet. Get with the program Tea Party. We compromise here and suffer no tyrants.

Rude Ramsey

2011-08-09T21:05:00.001-07:00

My best friend Hilary gave me the best children's book ever, Rude Ramsey and the Roaring Radishes. The story isn't terribly complicated, but is is full of R words; Rude Ramsey, his friend, the red-nosed Rat, Ralph, ramparts, ruckuses and more. My mom and I read it almost daily. Not only that, but it actually increased my vocabulary with repine, repast and a extra definition of rent (an opening made by rending or tearing; slit; fissure).

The book is written by a beloved author, Margaret Atwood, which only makes it more inspiring. So inspiring, I feel compelled to try a similar short story on my own. It might involve a cab cruising cross country with a congenial canine, however, I can't contend with Atwood's celebrated conte. My copy could be crappy clinquant. I shall constrict my chronicle to a confined congregation of close cousins and courtiers. I hope my child considers it cherished.

Cutest Baby in the World

2011-08-04T06:19:00.001-07:00

Like every new mom, I'm 100% convinced that my baby is the cutest, cuddliest, best thing on the planet. I'm also aware of my complete and utter bias. This baby could be hideous, but I will never know.

A friend of mine was completely sure that her baby was exceptionally cute, cuter than other babies. However, she was unaware of that baby-bias. She talked about trying to get baby modeling gigs for her boy. It was painful, yet none of us were willing to disabuse of her those notions. I hope the modeling agency was able to break it to her gently.

There are two things that I find funny when people meet Baz. First is when people say, "He has your coloring" which cracks me up - the hair is, um, well, enhanced. My mom misheard something I said and replied, "No, you can't henna his hair!" The thought hadn't really occurred to me, but ties well into the second thing I find amusing is when people say, "Oh, that really is Marc's baby!" I think that is code for, "He doesn't look much like you!"

Rarely am I able to see similarities between babies and their parents. So it cracks me to to hear that he does or doesn't look like me. Honestly, I don't see either me or Marc in him. I just see unbearable adorability. However I have learned the value of baby photos. Before I was a mother, hell, before I was pregnant, I couldn't have cared less to see a photo of your kids. But now, oh dear me, I have offered photos to business acquaintances! Some think I'm weird and seem to laugh it off - if that is possible via email, while take the, "I'll show you mine and you can show me yours!"

Blitz

2011-08-03T09:28:00.000-07:00

Doesn't Attachment Parenting sound good? I'm not 100% sure what it is, however. Not one of the four books that I've read/consulted specifically covers Attachment Parenting - the ins & outs, dos & don'ts. So I have no concrete idea of what it is.

Yet, despite that, I'm pretty sure I'm failing. I do breastfeed. I've got baby in a co-sleeper. Yet can I collect Attachment Parenting points for things which are more about my convenience than the babies? I mean, I'm so lazy, I don't want to get out of bed to feed the baby, hence the co-sleeper. The baby doesn't sleep there because that's the safest alternative to co-sleeping. I think Dad would prefer to have baby in a crib and out of earshot, however, until he's got boobs to feed little Sebastian and is ready to be responsible for the night time feedings, he doesn't get a say.

Maybe I should pick-up yet another tome on how to best raise my baby, yet I feel that educated instincts are doing a pretty good job so far. I say educated, as I was educated about natural childbirth which lead to a good birth outcome - even if I did ask for drugs, I didn't get them. Are instincts the same as desires? Is that urge to eat the 10th cookie an instinct or desire?

We do have a good baby and we, like every other couple on the planet, are bumbling along the path of new parenthood. Yet, we tend the baby when he cries. Even sometimes I tend him when he doesn't cry which results in cries and a smack on the hand from Marc. My instinct is to help him when he's upset. If he's wet, change him. If he's hungry feed him (boob is the easiest). If he's got gas, do chicken-legs.

I stumble on the stimulation front. How much is good baby stimulation? Is it OK if he just lolls about while I fold laundry? I can tell him, "Now I'm folding your burp cloth" but that doesn't seem very high brow. Maybe I should take it up a notch by telling him about either the origins of the cloth (baby labor camps in China where he'll end up if he doesn't stop crying) or the history (Rags used in futile attempt to keep baby-effluence off good clothes)?

My books tell me to read to him. Seriously? I try, yet he doesn't even look at the book. He's also not that keen on toys. He's only just started making eye contact and cooing and smiling and melting my heart to the point that I wish I could spend every moment flirting with him. But then he looks away and I'm again wondering what do I do with this baby in my arms and I ponder on how I'm failing at this parenting thing.

Birth Story

2011-05-15T09:49:00.000-07:00

Spoiler: Sebastian James Cohen was born Monday, May 9th at 6:25 PM. He weighed 7 lbs., 7 oz., and was 20.5 inches long. I think the cone head he had gave him those extra .5 inches.

How it happened; slowly.
I had a long early labor. Tuesday night, April 24th, I got a bad headache. The headache continued Wednesday along with a general mental fog and near inability to stay wake. Thursday or Friday the Braxton Hicks contractions were no longer something that merely happened - and if I felt my belly, I could feel. Instead, I was aware of them. They didn't hurt, but I did know when they were happening.

Saturday the midwives came to check me. They said this wasn't labor, but my cervix was 1 cm dilated & 50% effaced. During the check, they could feel what seemed like a thread in my cervix which they tried to massage a bit - not fun. They sadly informed me that this could go on for a week possibly. I couldn't imagine a week of narcolepsy, mental fog and mild contractions. Marc did his best to set my expectations to a longer view. I wanted to have the baby Sunday - or Monday at the latest.

Sunday morning arrived and the contractions were laced with pain. However, they were irregular and unable to settle into a pattern. Marc took me over to Mike's Beef & Brew for some breakfast. Our waitress, Melissa, expressed concern over my appearance of misery. Marc keeps telling me, "It isn't going to happen today." I want to kick him. He had a long To Do list, so my mother came over to keep my company. I gave her her Mother's Day gift - a Garmin to keep her from getting lost with our baby. By mid-day, it was pretty clear I wasn't going to be a mother on mother's day, despite the contractions.

However, at midnight the contractions took it up a notch. Not wanting to hear, "It isn't really labor" from my husband, I climbed out of bed and into the bath. The contractions initially slowed, but after about 45 minutes, they increased. After becoming a prune, I did get out and moved down to the fireplace - getting in the Bradley Rest Pose and tried to relax. Tsunami curled up close to keep me safe. After another hour or so, panic took over and I went back upstairs and woke up Marc. I was terrified that the baby would come before the midwives. Thankfully, Marc's cooler head prevailed. He kept me company and timed the contractions. He hid the clocks so that I couldn't try to make them more regular. About 5 AM I convinced him to call the midwives.

They arrived about 7:30, along with my mother and my dad arrived around 8:30 am. The initial check put me at 2 cm & nearly 90% effaced. They did feel that thread again on the cervix. I tried to do all the things the baby class taught me. I ate if I was hungry, I walked around. I took deep breaths through the contractions. The contractions were painful, but they didn't take my breath away.

Around 11 AM they suggested I take a bath. I obliged, the contractions ceased and Marc & my father enjoyed the Liverpool match. They won 5-0. However my labor had stalled. The midwives said for me to nap, they were heading out to lunch and then we'd discuss the game plan upon their return.

We have our pow-wow around 3 pm. The midwives think that things have stalled and we're probably not going to see action until the sun goes down. They say they can do some things to get labor going, but those only generate contractions, not labor. We check my cervix - I'm up to 3.5 cm and Mollie does some strong massage on the cervix, breaking the thread. They give me some homeopathic crystals to put under my tongue and leave me alone with Marc for some special cuddles. Kissing is another method of starting labor. Well, we don't do much kissing before the contractions kick it up a notch. I thought they hurt before, just kidding!

I have no idea how long I'm like this - but Marc is with me in bed and the contractions increase - it starts out about 3:30 pm. Someone says that I should go outside. Marc helps me walk - by giving me his back to support myself. It is freezing outside. My contractions slow, dad gives me a Popsicle. I want to go back to bed.

The contractions come back and then some. I'm trying to breathe with them, but then the pain escalates and I start to squeal. Relax. Focus. Low moans. Bring the pain, the breathe down. I can't get comfortable. Around 4:30 pm my water breaks and I flop off the bed. I try to squat against the wall, but that doesn't feel good either. Nothing feels good. Peeing is the worst, as the bladder is crushed and the walls of the lining are greatly irritated.

I labor on the floor, near the end of the bed for God knows how long. I beg to go to the hospital, "Please give me an epidural". In my head, I'm wondering how am I ever going to give this kid a sibling as I never want to feel this pain again. The mind wanders to thoughts, "If I got an epidural, I would still have to go through early labor - how useful is that?" "I can't do a c-section." "What the hell am I going to do?"

I suggest a bath between contractions, "Yes, but you'll have to get out to push" the midwives say. Shower? "OK, let's get Marc into a suit." The midwives prep the shower, I make a mid-contraction dash. The water feels good, but I cannot stay standing. I'm down on all 4's and Marc's not finished changing. I flop out of the shower and onto the mats. "Time to push" I say. "Can you pee first?" I try, but nothing comes out. The toilet feels super good. "Can I push on the toilet?" "No." They've prepared an area in the bedroom. The painful contractions are subsiding and I've got the pushing to do.

I try the step for an assisted squat - no go, I flop again. This time, I'm on my left side. Marc's on the couch behind me. He's got my top leg. My bottom leg is bent. The midwives can see the head. And the pushing begins. I can feel the head ducking in & out. They have me touch the hairy, slimy top. I'm encouraged, and start to push harder. The pain changes to an achy and burning pain that is localized in the arrival area - no more soul crushing pain riveting through my abdomen. My dad is there - I have no idea when he arrived. He's holding my hand. I'm pushing... harder. And then there is a baby. The pain mostly ceases.
I have a slimy, crying, wriggly baby on my chest. Warm blankets cover us. I ask Marc to check if it is a boy or a girl. A boy, and would the midwives confirm?

I'm now on my back, the midwives are trying to help me get the placenta out. I'm bleeding too much for their liking. I think they give me a shot, then a second medication to slow the blood. The placenta comes out, but there are some other membranes. I'm shaking uncontrollably - but they tell me that is normal, just hormones. I hug the baby wondering if this will end with an ambulance. But the blood slows, the membranes come out. I'm OK.

The cord pulses out and they want to clamp & cut it. They set it up, Marc does the cut. The baby is on his own. Marc takes him and I can take a shower. I think it was the best shower in the history of all showers. I have to wear a diaper after wards, as I'm still letting blood go. We - me, Marc & Sebastian, all climb into bed. I'm brought soup and some reheated pizza. Mollie & Laurel give us the placenta tour - I have a wound the size of a dinner plate bleeding from my uterus. Great. They do the newborn check and Sebastian is good to go. We give him the vitamin K shot. He's unbelievable. So small. So perfect. With arms that flail about and toes and a belly.

He can't really see me yet. He has no clue who I am. I doubt he knows what love is. Yet I'm in love with him. I could kiss him all day - he doesn't really like that. He doesn't like to have his diaper changed. He prefers to be warm. He's a good sleeper and really digs breast milk. As I write this, he's only 6 days old. My stomach has gotten flatter by the day, yet my breasts have increased. I'm down 16 lbs now - only 20 more to go. Maybe 25 if I milk my boob right. All's well in the Cohen household. Despite the pain, Sebastian won't be an only child. I'll be looking into Hypnobirth and birthing tubs next time - assuming that we're still low risk and the next baby is in the right position and all tests are normal. Yes, I want a natural birth, but not one that puts me or future baby #2 at risk.

Dog Ambitions

2011-05-04T15:14:00.001-07:00

When not having contractions or looking deep into Tsui's eyes, I've been plotting her summer hair cut. As you loyal readers may recall, the first summer out here she had the Mohawk that helped her look taller & thinner. Last summer she had the lion cut, however she was disappointed to not get a role in the community theater's Lion King.

This summer I'd like to do the low-rider. My thought is to buzz the top, leaving the sides full to give her a short & squat look - even more than she already has as a wiener dog. Then we'd add some color - I'd like to add red & orange over her front paws to give her flames. I suggested we dip her paws in black dye to make tires, but Marc says no.

I still need to come up with a strange honk equivalent and a way to paint, "Warren DeLano 6/21/73 - 11/2/2009 RIP" on the equivalent of the back window. More thought is required.

Dog Days

2011-05-04T14:50:00.000-07:00

We're getting close. Last night I started to get irregular contractions and a terrible headache. This morning I was still getting contractions and still had my headache. I'm guessing the headache is associated with the hormone shift. The contractions are still mild and irregular, yet I'm aware of them for the first time. Previously the Braxton Hicks contractions were only felt if my hand was on my belly. Now my belly is telling me that it is getting tight - no hands required. At times I wonder if my uterus might be working on an impression of a bowling ball. It becomes hard and spherical and, from my estimate, it might weigh roughly 10-12 pounds with baby, placenta and amniotic fluid included.

I got in a nap this , as I felt narcoleptic this morning and my attempts to work were foibled by foggy head. The nap took the fog away along with the stronger contractions. I suspect they'll be back. I hope not tonight... I'd rather made the labor a weekend project.

As I write this, I'm enjoying a warm breeze through the open window behind me. Little Tsunami is dozing on her back next to me. I suddenly had an urge to find her belly button. She didn't seem to mind and I think I found a small divot where she was once connected to her mum. Good to know she isn't of alien origin. Zoe submitted to a belly search and I think i was able to locate hers as well.

Today I've been telling Tsunami, "Not much longer. You're going to be replaced by a monkey baby." and, "You did a good job as a practice baby. I promise not to forget you when the baby is here." She does not seem distressed by the impending change. Instead she looks deep into my eyes in a loving hypnotic way that evokes a feeling of overwhelming love and tenderness. They tell me I'll fell that same feeling but on steroids when I look at my baby. I can't imagine, but should know soon.

Garden Update

2011-04-17T10:07:00.000-07:00

Tiger was restrained, however the snails were not.
I am missing a bean plant, mystery plant and was able to rescue a clump of baby lettuce from two marauding snails. Plot #1 doesn't look happy.

Tiger Proof Fence - Veggie Garden Year 3

2011-04-17T09:23:00.000-07:00

The veggie garden has expanded. With a lovely gift from Dad & Brendan-Kate-Lilly Mac, I now have a second garden plot. This one out sizes garden plot #1. We've gone from 4x8 to 4x12. This grow was in part due to my annoyance that I really can't grow corn, Tomato & other veg in a 4x8 foot plot - well, not more than 1 plant of each. This year, the new plot will be the tomato-corn plot. The original will (hopefully) have beans, okra, peppers, chard, carrots, cucumber and eggplant. Maybe I'm being a bit ambitious.

Last weekend Dad helped with the installation of the plot. We were quite a motley crew of workers, Dad being a bit older and seeing him work makes me uncomfortable. Me, unable to pull my normal weight being 8 months pregnant. Which leaves Marc, our only able bodied worker. Despite the collection of physical limitations, Dad & I dug up the lilies (which are awaiting planting at my mother's house) and sod. Together the three of us assembled the wood frame. Then Dad & I filled the plot with the soil that able-bodied Marc had carried from the garage to the back yard. While we filled, Marc worked on our reward - a steak & potato lunch. Our successful installation praised, our reward consumed, Dad soon departed and we promptly napped to recover our strength.

This weekend we took on the watering system and installation of the Tiger proof fence. Last weekend, we realized we had an odd configuration of sprinklers that we could tap and re-work to provide irrigation to the plants. Saturday started off with a trip to Lowes and much thoughtful time in the irrigation aisle. $200 later we headed home with piping, nobs, tubes, adapters, caps, fence posts, fencig and six sage plants that work as caterpillar deterrents for my tomatoes.

Marc set to work on the sprinkler system and I, realizing my utter lack of water delivery knowledge got tasked with driving in the stakes for the anti-pet fence. With all my learning, I never expected to be the one driving posts with mallot in hand. After 7 stakes, I realized that gloves would be a good idea. I AM looking forward to my mani-pedi today to soothe my ego & rough skin.

This year marks another new adventure - a few weeks back I treated myself to a seed sprouter. This magical device gives me little pods into which I put seeds and then it creates plants. Some call it nature, I call it miraculous. My first round was an utter success, until I tried to move them to larger grow containers and killed about half of those that had grown. Well, I started another batch - this time including 3 types of tomatoes: Beef Steak, Roma & cherry. Well, the ones that did survive my brutal replanting as well as all of those from round 2 have been put into the ground. The cord didn't really make it, but I, ever the optimist, put them in plot #2 and said a prayer. Also in plot #2 we've got the smallest little tomatoes tucked in under protective wire frames, guarded by sage plants along the border. In plot #1, we still have Massive, Happy-Chard that hasn't been pulled up in 18 months. I think we need to eat more chard to keep it better under control.

Also in Plot #1 - the cabbage that I put in back in December that is finally getting big enough to consider producing heads. To them I added 3 pea plants, the 1 bean plant that made it, 2.5 okra plants (it would be three, but I knocked off the leaves from one during the replanting process, so we're again optimistic and saying prayers) along with a row of carrot seeds (they can't be sprouted, must go in the ground. I also planted 5 tender shoots that I think are bell peppers, but am unsure along with one total mystery plant. I'm trying not to over plant, per Marc's encouragement. However, things look so bare right now. It is taking a lot of energy to NOT add more.

Also, I created the potato circle/mound and put all my seed potatoes into the ground. We're crossing our fingers for a nice harvest of banana potatoes in 75 days. The package says 75 days, yet I've never had my plants fruit in that short of a time frame. What am I doing wrong?

By the end of the day, and many impromptu sprinkler showers later, we have installed a happy irrigation system, plants and a fence that should keep Tiger, the cat that loves to use my plots for a litter box, out. I haven't checked if it was successful. Marc earned himself a special gold star by dragging our exhausted selves out to the store to get kitty litter so that Tiger might use her outside box instead of my plots.

With that, I'm out to see if kitty-enemy #1 has soiled my labors.

Home Birth

2011-04-15T08:05:00.000-07:00

I've tried to keep my interest in home birth a bit of a secret. I didn't want to be harangued by people telling me why I need to go to the hospital. Until last week, I had my parents & husband set against the idea, but Marc cracked and we've picked a team of East Bay Midwives to do the home birth - barring any complications that would send me to the hospital.
My friend's baby-mamma wrote up this wonderful rationale for why home birth:
http://tkdbaby.blogspot.com/2010/11/kickin-it-old-school-our-decision-to.html
Which I 100% agree with. However she left out one part of my decision - the physical achievement.

In my life I've hiked the Andes. I've danced until dawn. I've run 26 miles in a row. I've done two half marathons, one up Mt. Diablo and through streams coming down. I've done 3 hour bike rides that have left me saddle sore for days. I've done cousin death marches around various cities. I've risen to many physical challenges and endured the temporary pain that comes with them.

Along the way I've noticed that endorphins kick in. Running 26 miles is a long time to be in discomfort, yet many people do it voluntarily. I haven't yet experienced child birth, yet my Bradley Method Instructor who's had 5 natural births describes labor as work, but not necessarily painful work.

Training for the early stages of labor - relaxing so that the only muscle working is the uterus. Advice I have heard when doing distance running training - relax all muscles but those working. Tight shoulders during runs will cause pain as will they during childbirth. Anxiety or mental tightness during running causes pain as will it during childbirth. Yes, stretching those parts of me will leave me saddle sore for a while - as does a long bicycle ride.

I hope that putting childbirth in the same context as endurance physical events and using the same mental & physical techniques will result in a childbirth where I'm high on endorphins, not morphine. I'll have the baby and be coherent and a full participant in the experience - not doped up and woozy.

Yesterday the midwives pointed out that I was having Braxton-Hicks contractions. The rest of the day, I was feeling my belly, waiting for it to become firm and solid as it was in their office. I am so thrilled that I'm getting closer to the big event. My body is working and preparing like I am mentally.

How many products do you use each day?

2011-04-13T18:21:00.000-07:00

In the last few years, I've vacationed several places which should have lovely snorkeling but instead have reefs that appear to be dying. What struck me in my last visits to Hawaii as well as staying at a hotel on the "Coral Coast" of Fiji was how fuzzy the coral looks. Hawaii especially - what was once a magical world of vibrant colors looked like it was coated by mold and sand. I credited global warming, and sadly shook my head.

Then I saw the Campaign for Safe Cosmetics and some ideas started bouncing around in my head. They are pushing to get toxic ingredients out of products we put on our bodies. I watched their video - www.safecosmetics.org - agreed in my standard liberal way and then didn't think much of it.

But then it started to eat away at me. I mean, I compost my organic, locally grown veggie scraps. I grow my own veg. While being pregnant and peeing twice an hour, I've taken to flushing every other time (kinda gross, but it is just a touch of pee that can mellow until joined by more pee). I do what I can to live as gently on this plant. But I'm potentially washing my hair with stuff that is killing fish and marine life.

While in the shower, I looked at the bottle of Pureology, which I love, and realized that it proudly stated that it was Vegan. My shampoo is vegan. Seriously! But then I looked at the ingredients. Most of the ingredients came out of a lab. I'm sure some were derived from petroleum products. What good is having vegan shampoo when the ingredients it requires come from oil? The stuff that we just dumped millions of gallons into the gulf killing billions of fish, birds and other marine life. Seems a bit silly. Then I looked at the Neutrogena body wash - same thing, vegan but with chemicals. The pattern emerges.

As I got out of the shower, I started counting all the products I lather on my body. Special anti-stretch mark lotion for the belly, Essential Organic moisturizer for the legs, face moisturizer, eye treatment, deodorant, 3-4 different products to make my hair happy and maybe a dash of perfume and counted eight or nine products in all. No wonder the reefs were dying outside the hotel in Fiji. All that stuff plus sunscreen washes off us, into the water and it disrupts the delicate balance of the water.

Now, I'm terrible, I'm not going to stop dying my hair. I am going to take a closer look at the products I rub all over me. I'd like to see if I can find more earth friendly. I want more ingredients which I can identify - Tea Tree Oil - and fewer that I can't - Methylparaben.

Belly - Size Matters

2011-03-18T08:10:00.000-07:00

Less than a week ago, one of the barristas at our regular Starbucks was surprised to hear I was pregnant. Which shocked & appalled me. She said she just thought I had put on a few pounds. Great! I'm 7 months along and still look fat-not-pregnant.
This is only 10 hours before I have birth class where me & 3 other women are learning about natural childbirth. Of the there other pregnant woman, one had her baby Monday. She was on #2 and taking the class as a refresher - so while I am jealous of her round and clearly pregnant belly, she's over 2 months ahead of me, so no comparison.
However, I've got two other women in the class. One is larger and it isn't obvious she's pregnant, as she is just large. The other, who is due a week before me, has a clearly pregnant belly.
Me - I could be 5 months if that, or as the barrista says, "just thought you looked a little porky." So, what do I do? I find myself pushing out the belly farther than normal. No worries about keeping the abs tight. I'm like a child who sticks out their belly to scream, "See! I'm pregnant!". But, really, I am pregnant.
I tell my coworker who just delivered her 2nd baby that I'm trying to pick clothes which make it clear that I'm expecting. She was so confused, "Why?" So i don't look fat! Duh!
Marc seems to think I'm crazy. I just need to find a t-shirt that declares my current state sot that, despite the 22 lb weight gain, I can feel pregnant not fat.

Strange Thoughts

2011-03-13T19:34:00.000-07:00

Here I am at 7 months. Two months to go until we meet future baby.
In my attempts to connect with future baby, I realized that the little one is upside-down and, for the most part, in the same position it will be in for the next 2 months. Would you get bored stuck in the same position, on your head for 2 months?
What is the little baby thinking? How bored must it be? No TV, books, music is only at the whim of your mother. It sounds terrible. I feel guilty, until I force fish down my throat for the benefit of future baby. Then again, it doesn't sound like the next nine months are much better. How did we make it through those long days of no thought and little action?

But then I go to get dressed and feel so big. Yes, Marc is a good husband and I believe him when he says I look beautiful. I think we tell pregnant women they are glowing to make up for min 20 lbs we gain, the inability to put on our shoes and frustration with clothes. I get dressed and think, "God I'd like something else to wear. But why buy clothes that I can only wear for the next 69 days? What a waste!" Sigh.
In our house we have a struggle between my pregnancy-onset anorexia and Marc's efforts to keep food entering my body. This week was a victory for me - I haven't gained weight this week. I anticipate a surge from the Marc side of things... we'll have cheese plates, snacks and endless trips to Starbucks where pastries magically appear for me. He is a good man. He'll be a good father. I hope I'll be a good mom.

Collective Bargining

2011-03-12T08:58:00.001-08:00

I am quite disturbed by the Wisconsin Governor Walker's drive to end collective bargaining in his state. What I've seen is that those with the least use collective bargaining to ensure that they maintain an adequate income. I've never seen collective bargaining used by the Haves (Stock Brokers, Sales Reps, Bankers, Lawyers, etc). The vast majority of those who collectively bargain are blue collar workers. The teachers, hotel workers, plumbers, laborers who do the stuff we white collar folk disdain.
Many states have decided that the Haves don't need to contribute to the budget deficits. They don't need any tax adjustment. Instead the efforts to balance budgets falls on those with the least voice and ability to fight back. We're taking money from our kids & schools. Which, I suspect will result in a need for more prisons down the line. Walker is doing his best to bust unions so that those barely making the national average will have little leverage when their pay dips below the national average. They are removing funding from health care and family planning - great more need for prisons in 18 years. They won't help people NOT have kids, nor will they help support, raise or education those unwanted children who then be burdens on our society.
I hope all union workers in Wisconsin strike. Stand-up!
Our collective culture will deteriorate if we insist on taxing our poor and vulnerable while letting the millionaires & billionaires thrive. There is no trickle down. We tried that under Bush and all we got was a massive depression.

Can the Federal Government Require to you buy something?

2011-02-19T15:16:00.000-08:00

One of the premises of the argument against Obama's health care plan is that the Federal Government requires you to purchase something. At first I did think this might be a bit dubious, however, as I start to amass goods for the Future Baby, I'm suddenly dumbstruck by all that I'm mandated to purchase.
I have to purchase a car seat to get the baby home. I guess I could take the bus or walk, if I didn't want to. That is also like saying we don't need to buy food. How many Americans are able to grow their own food supply?
I have to purchase vaccines in order for my child to participate in society. We are all familiar with the fight on this front.
I have to provide a quality environment for the baby. If I don't buy diapers and let it stew in its own waste, Child Protective Services will come take the baby.
I must provide clothing to the child, or it will not be able to leave the house. Again, I might be able to raise cotton, clean, spin & weave it into cloth from which I can then fashion a garment, yet that loop hole is a bit silly. So, the purchase of clothing is required - especially if my child is to attend school. If my child does not attend school, I'm mandated to provide education for it - which requires the purchase of curriculum/materials, etc.
It seems silly to say that the government cannot require us to buy things.

Development

2011-01-24T16:00:00.000-08:00

Officially it has started! I didn't think it would happen so soon...
I'm 23 weeks along. Just a few more days and I'll be in the third trimester. However, to those who do not know me, I just look big-bellied. I look like I've been working my way solo, through a keg and it is moving from the metal tin to my gut. I do not look pregnant. I look nothing like all the photos of pregnant women with distinct round bulges. Yes, I know, I should count myself lucky

However, when I am not counting myself lucky for having a beach-ball under my shirt, I am stuck with this nagging thought in my head, "Is my fetus developing normally?" Is it on the small side? Is that why my belly isn't round and massive? I didn't think I'd have to worry about my child's development until the Human Tape Worm (HTW) made an appearance. At which point, I'd feel compelled to chronicle how soon it walked, held a rattle, said "Mommy!" and such. But no, I'm starting the worry now even before the HTW has appeared.

Maybe it would grow more if I felt more maternal towards it. The exercise tapes and birth class talk about feeling connected to my baby. How am I supposed to feel connected? The big belly is like a never-ending post Thanksgiving bloat and the kicks could just be high-powered gas. The glowing woman, hands on belly, gently gazing down who is somehow channeling the Virgin Mary - nope not me. I'm sure it will change with HTW makes a personal appearance. Until then, I'll keep wondering what is going on in there and if it has learned how to play Mozart yet.

Energy Efficiency

2011-01-23T09:59:00.000-08:00

Yesterday I enjoyed an hour catching up on New Yorker magazines. I read a number of thought providing articles, one if which has stuck with me.
This one: The Efficiency Dilemma - If our machines are more efficient, will we just use more of them?
The article clearly states that the answer to that is, "Yes!". The example provided about refrigeration has an interlinked story with other excess with it. Essentially, by the 50's the modern home had a refrigerator. That model would pale in comparison to our current versions - cooling less while using twice as much energy. Yet, 50+ years later, we don't have just one, energy efficient fridge. Instead we have the kitchen fridge, the spare in the garage, or maybe a drink cooler in the family room and a sub-zero to keep our Costco purchases frozen. So, yes, our refrigerator is more efficient, so we own more of them. Our energy usage is not less.

So, for the same energy bill, we can own two fridges which means we have to fill them, right? Trips to Costco help with that. We super size our consumption of food. The article notes, "the growth of American refrigerator volume has been roughly paralleled by the growth of American body-mass index." However, we don't eat it all. According to wastedfood.com, we throw away some 40% of the produce we produce.

This core issue has been bouncing around in my head. Yes, I struggle with cooking & eating everything I bring home. I hate to have something go bad. I do try to put what I don't eat into either the dog-bowl or the compost heap. I do have one weakness - take home food. Friday we had a pizza delivered and ate half of it. The rest is still there... staring at me, asking to be eaten. But with my expanding waist, I'm not keep to indulge twice in a 7 day period. I'm guilty of over buying and there are starving children in some parts of the world. You might think, it's just a pizza indulgence - get over it! Yet last week, it was left-over Thai food that sat in there wanting to be eaten for days. There is a pattern of waste in my life.

And it doesn't stop with the food. I know I'm evil by keeping the house at 70 degrees in the winter and, I'm not sure what in the summer. I ponder shade structures in the back yard to passively cool both the units & my house. My ever-so-efficient air conditioning units face west and bake in the summer sun - but really, that could improve their efficiency by 10%, would I then change the thermostat down 10% in the summer, evening out the gains?

In essence I'm American and living the American life-style. Unless I make radical changes, such as going off the grid or replacing my house with an earthship, are the changes worth it? They are small and mere drops in the larger sea of energy usage.

DMV Follow-up

2011-01-19T07:02:00.000-08:00

The DMV visit was fantastic. Never better! Couldn't believe it!
I didn't have an appointment - having been to sick on Thursday to go, I went on Friday with Nook & New Yorker in hand. However, I didn't get to read. My number was called within 10 minutes of arriving. The guy who helped me was very nice. Almost every person who I spoke to congratulated me on my new married status. The were quick, nice, competent. Except for the photo lady - she was a bit scattered and I was left standing for a while, which, in my current state, can get a bit tiresome.
One bad thing - they did warn me that my license might be 2 months to arrive! They are re-vamping the California ID/Driver's Licenses. I'm excited to see what the new one looks like. I do hope my hair looked OK. My last photo was fantastic. The one before, well, I kinda looked like a Russian Prostitute. Bad hair & face day.

One strange thing - I counted 8 babies at the DMV all under the age of two. Very strange. Do we now require drivers licenses for Big Wheels?

The mother of the little tyke next to me was even more odd. She was well manicured with the hair/make-up & nails yet, despite having a toddler in tow, she elected to go wit the four inch, platform, patent leather heels. The shoes I would choose to go clubbing in are her top pick for going to the DMV with baby.

Writer's Block

2011-01-12T19:15:00.000-08:00

Yep. I can't find anything to write about today.
Maybe tomorrow I'll have more inspiration?
Tomorrow I'll be sitting at the DMV getting my driver's license updated to reflect my new name. My last few visits to the DMV have confirmed my sense that it is the cesspool of American Culture. Why is the DMV so appealing to those missing teeth, whose educations ceased at the second grade? Is it the hard, plastic seats? The unwashed surfaces? Is it the eternal lines with the mysterious numbering systems? What is it like this in other countries? Marc claims they do it all by mail, so they have avoided the entire entity.
While my favorite moment at the DMV was registering my SLK a few years back. I got it all tested - which was a challenge, as I accidentally called road-side assistance while trying to pop the hood. But the nice man who gave me my place and walking papers sent me of with, "Yo fit to ro'l". Bling Bling in my Black Mercedes!
My experiences tomorrow may provide me with a bleak & dirty muse.

Fit & Pregnant

2011-01-10T08:52:00.000-08:00

I didn't realize exactly how rare fitness was in women. Why this has come to my attention - I am having the hardest time finding information, workouts and fitness gear for pregnant women.
What I can find reflects an image that most women don't do anything vigorous. The maternity shops give you a large cotton t-shirts:
http://www.motherhood.com/maternity/activewear-tees-and-tanks.asp
Seriously - these are my workout top options? None of the options appear to be designed for actual workouts, where one wants the sweat to be wicked-away with special fabrics.
Dropping by Lululemon, a bit proponent of women's fitness I was told, "Our regular clothes have 4 way stretch and can accommodate a pregnant belly." Really? You're telling me this 30 inch waist top will expand by 50% to get abound my belly that I anticipate to be 45 inches around? I have my doubts.
However, even if I can find the clothes, I'll be hard pressed to find a workout. The fitness advice in "What to Expect When You're Expecting" (a book that is able to convince more women that they have medical issues than med school is able to create hypochondriacs), includes push-ups against the wall, gentle stretching and other activities for those who find the idea of running a mile unfathomable. May caution against any Real Effort, as that might upset the delicate constitution of a pregnant woman. I'm taking a birthing class and their "exercises" include daily 5 minute walks, a pelvic tilt and squatting.
I know that marathon training & pregnancy aren't really a good combo, yet there is nothing for the expecting mother who, at the start of the pregnancy could go out and knock out 3 miles in 30 minutes. Suddenly I'm being told not to do to much - 5-30 minutes a day of walking should do it. I do that with the dogs - what am I supposed to do to keep fit?
Is the limited number of products an indication of a limited audience? Are there so few women who are fit and want to stay that way during pregnancy? I can't be the only one.

Christmas Letter

2010-12-27T17:22:00.000-08:00

I'm not as clever as David Sedaris yet I still have urge to write a Christmas Letter. Unfortunately you're not as likely to laugh reading mine.

So 2010 was quite a year. As most know, I was pretty blue at the start of it. The wind still knocked out of me from brother Warren's unexpected suicide in Nov 2009. But I did have a highlight the first week of 2010 when I got to meet baby niece Lilly-Mac (we are hoping she'll be eligible for government bail-outs later in life). Lillian McNamara Delano appeared Dec 2009 and has been growing ever since. Little Brother Brendan & awesome sister-in-law Kate tend to her whims at their house in Greenbrae.

While I was happy for them, I was even happier for myself - Marc & I conceived in early January. Unfortunately God smacks down the smug and I miscarried in March. Just to smite me, I learned about the death of two friends about that time as well. Could it get any worse? Yes! I had blabbed about the pregnancy to everyone at Warren's memorial only to miscarry a few weeks later. Nothing like being asked repeatedly for the due date when the baby was only a memory.

Yet, not to be dismayed, I took a job change. However the job wasn't a good fit and by April I had landed myself in the therapist's office. I have since learned that I am not quite equipped to handle two deaths in the family, a miscarriage, two deaths among my friends and an unhappy job change. Make note for future stressful times. I do not know how I would have managed had I not had Marc with me through this rough patch.

Life kept coming and, like a well written play, comic relief injected it self over the summer. Our first laugh came from David & Ashley's wedding in Kansas City, MO. Marc & I journeyed with Dad, Aunt Sally, Uncle Richard, Cousin Dania & her husband Chris to Mid-Continent International airport. We enjoyed the family time at Aunt Nancy's house before & after the wedding. The day of the wedding we were in town with the Cousin Nathan, Cousin Dania & Hubby Chris. Dania & Chris offered to let Cousin Nathan, Marc & I use their suite to get dressed for the wedding, as they were staying closer. When Marc when to change, he realized that I had left his pants at our hotel room. Whoops! A quick trip to the local Brooks Brothers and we were again on our way. Even with the store run, we were early to the wedding. We made the logical decision to not spend the extra 45 minutes waiting in the Church, but to find the closest Bar and get liquored up. We all found the service much more fun than the rest of the family.

Barely a month later the family again gathered, this time in Port Huron, MI. Mom & I traveled together to attend Grandmother Polly's internment. Thankfully we had brought our passports as I took wrong exit and we crossed a bridge over a canal to find ourselves in Canada. Whoops! After much begging and pleading one of the boarder guards gave in and stamped my passport. I did need proof of our trip! Other highlights on the trip was meeting Cousin Alie, meeting Luisa, Cousin David's now wife and taking a ride in the Cris Craft that impressed on my father the coolness of wooden boats.

Other summer highlights included a visit from Marc's mother & brother. Later Marc's Aunt Christine, husband Pete and cousins Livy & Alex showed up. Their visits resulted in multiple trips to Yosemite and even a mule ride. Great to get to know my future family better, even if they called eggplant aubergine.

Late in the summer our luck changed for the better. There was a shuffle in the teams at the office which almost moved me to DC. However instead, they made me a sweet offer to get me back in my old role. After a week of deliberation, I came to the conclusion that I'd rather be happy with what I'm doing than be doing a job that could be better for my career.

Not long after the job reversion, Marc & I got the house situation resolved. The house is ours and at actual market value. Yippee! That finalized while we were enjoying a weekend in Massachusetts. The other Cousin David was marrying his beautiful German bride, Luisa, on Cape Cod. Lovely service and very enjoyable wedding! This time we got liquored up at the wedding instead of before. We took a side trip on the way there to visit my Alma Mater, Smith. Boy has the campus changed! The students looked the same. The town was slightly larger yet still full of restaurants and shops geared to the college crowd.

Another stroke of luck came with getting pregnant and making it successfully through the first trimester. We finally had a due date we could share - May 15th. With the pregnancy and the house was settled, we were able to plan our wedding!

Thanksgiving arrived and we got Marc's mum to come back to attend, as we weren't going to be able to get to England for Christmas... or so we said. Once she arrived, we revealed the real plans: To get married at Dad's on Thanksgiving and fly off to Fiji for a two week honeymoon. The wedding went off beautifully. The sun cooperated and we were married on Dad's deck in Sausalito. Dad did the ceremony, Brendan held the rings & took photos, Kate was Matron of Honor and dog watcher, Mom & Mum were witnesses and Cathy did a reading. The service was short and perfect. I had always felt that Dad's deck was the perfect place to get married and it was. The meal was perfect - Turkey and all the trimmings.

Two weeks in Fiji with lots of sun & snorkeling - heaven after the long & turbulent year. We got home to find that Christmas was in full swing. Yet after living for weeks without To Do lists or work, getting in the Santa Swing was tough. We skip the tree and enjoyed Christmas Eve at Dad's - complete with Yorkshire pudding. Christmas Dad was at Kate & Brendan's place. Kate's family was in town and we are SO happy that her brother Chip has returned whole & unharmed from his time in Iraq.

I'm hoping we're back on an upswing for 2011. All my best to you & your family.

Jennifer

Blossoming Bellies

2010-12-26T19:03:00.000-08:00

I'm told that I should feel the baby move any time now. I'm 1 day shy of 20 weeks and eager to feel that first kick. I may have felt it already, just not realized what it was. As for this week's status report: "Your baby weighs about 10 1/2 ounces now. He's also around 6 1/2 inches long from head to bottom and about 10 inches from head to heel — the length of a banana." Yikes. I've got a banana tucked into a melon in my abdomen! You think I'd notice if the banana decided to move around.

But what's really kicking me is the pregnancy rules. It seems that almost everyone wants to get in on the game of telling expecting women what they should or should not be doing. Some times it makes sense - Don't take Aleve or ibuprofen because it will increase the rate of birth defects by 7%. Some times it doesn't - you cannot wear high heels. (I realize I might not want to wear heels while pregnant, but how is that going to damage the baby's development, exactly?)

I labor under the abundant unwanted advice that is thrown at me: eat fish, but don't eat *that* fish. I'm struck by the urge to say either, "Shove it" or "Do you realize how dumb you sound?" From what position to sleep in (left-side) to the shoes I should we wearing (no heels, no flip-flops), to my choice in lunch (no sushi, no deli meat or hot dogs) I'm sick of these rules.

I am not only amazed that the wrap-the-pregnant-woman-in-bubble-wrap mentality, I'm also stunned that so many women I know to be smart & thinking women buy into it. Does it ever occur to them that, "Hey, we've managed to keep the human race reproducing for nearly 40,000 years and only in the last 100 or so years have we seen these rules. Maybe it is mostly hype? The women in France seem to be enjoying brie with not a noticeably higher rate of miscarriage" Poll the women 60 & older - they'll tell you that they drank while pregnant with you and you seem (mostly) OK. Maybe this has to do with the desire to just let go for 40 weeks - "No, hon, I can't clean the kitchen, my doctor says to take it easy. Yet, when I miscarried, I was told that it was likely genetic - not that lovely Camembert cheese I had.

I'm a little slow, yet what I'm coming to understand is that this is the pre-birth version of Mothers Guilt. While Freud started this movement with his blame your mother psychology, the tone and rigor escalated once women who didn't need to work yet didn't want to stay home put on their hats and got jobs. I can recall the news casts talking about how scarred latch key kids would be as adults. I was a latch-key kid and I seem to be a (mostly) well adjusted adult.

Thankfully, we've seen the real data - a generation and a half having grown up without mom home baking cookies - and so far, so good. Lately the tactics seems to be focused on getting mothers to feel guilty that they aren't providing enough opportunities for their child to thrive in. Hence the well scheduled & over-planned life of the modern child - from play date to music lesson to soccer practice, and woe be to the mother who doesn't make a good, home-cooked meal after busing Junior around all day. Just stop already.

I do say that all women should find the right balance for themselves. My balance involves an occasional drink of wine, nearly daily work-outs and all the blue cheese I can eat - balanced with my 5-7 servings of fruits & veg, one of which should be a leafy green and total ban on caffiene, unless it is in that chocolate I just noshed.

The Wedding

2010-12-17T20:13:00.000-08:00

Oh whoops - I promised a report on the wedding plan.
Here's how it happened....
As we we looking at our due date and considering our post-house purchase financial status, I suggested that spending $15k - $20K next summer, on an event that we'd have to fund, plan and execute while dealing with being a parents of a 2 month old seemed like a lot. We both missed out on a honeymoon the first time round and, with our current wedding budget projections, it looked like we would miss it the 2nd time round as well. So I suggested we elope. The only problem - I didn't want to get married outside the US and Marc didn't want to honeymoon in the US. He explains, "It isn't a real trip if they speak English & use US Dollars."

So, what if we got married on the down-low here in the US and then run off? I labeled it "faux-loping". Sounded good to me. We were mulling over plans and bringing in Dad & Cathy to co-conspired with us at Cousin David's wedding to the lovely Luisa on Cape Cod. Also at that event a conversation with my Aunt who tells me, "It just isn't right to elope. Part of getting married is sharing the even with friends & family..." Great, she didn't even know our plans and was already condemning them!

We then decided where to go - at first we were thinking Australia, but then realized there was too much to do/see. So we took it down a notch and decided that after this crazy year, we could really do with some quiet together time. Fiji came on the radar. Cousin Dania gave us good advice on where to go.

So, the event - well, we got Marc's mom to agree to come out for Thanksgiving. She wasn't sure why, but we got here here just the same. We worked out the planning, flowers & cake with Dad & Cathy. I had a tough time with a dress - what is the appropriate attire for a Thanksgiving Day, 2nd Wedding, at my father's house while pregnant? The long white gown was SO out. And finding something that doesn't look like it should be worn to the prom/opera gala/office can be tough!

But we worked it all out. We told the other attendees - My mom, little brother & sister-in-law on the precessing Tuesday. They were all excited and sworn to secrecy. The weather cooperated with a sunny day. We decided that the deck with the view would be ideal. Everyone arrive by about 11:30. We realized that Dad wasn't going to be able to read the ceremony from his iPad, so we put it on the nook. Sister-in-law helped me get dressed and led me to the alter at the right time. Both Mom's signed the paperwork. Step-mom read a passage. Little Brother took photos and tended the rings.

We said "I Do" and exchanged the rings then a kiss. Dad didn't let little brother bring the shot-gun for some silly photos. We had a toast (I got a baby glass of champagne). We enjoyed Cathy's traditional Thanksgiving feast. We cut the cake and then caught a flight to LA to catch the evening non-stop to Nadi, Fiji.
As soon as we boarded the plane, we changed our status on Facebook & turned off our phones for the next 2 weeks.

Three weeks, 1 day we've been married. I'm happy. Oh so happy. So there's the scoop.

My Belly Preceeds Me

2010-12-17T19:47:00.000-08:00

I'm coming up on 18 weeks. I'm eager to pass the 20 week mark so that I'm official half way to my delivery day. This is the I'm-not-fat-I'm-pregnant phase. I find myself telling anyone who will listen, "I'm pregnant!". I've gained ten lbs (some of that is the baby, some is the Fiji Honeymoon). My waist has expanded four inches. My clothes don't fit anymore. For the first time in four weeks I was in the office. The female coworker say they see it. Yet asking a male colleague, he responded, "Jen, no male's eyes will notice your stomach". I realized that due to my increase in cup size, 99.9% of men will find their eyes unable to drift below my blossoming boobs.

I've notices my breasts too. I noticed that, when I got hit my a jelly fish in the water, I was unable to see my waist, as the boobs blocked my view. I've noticed that while swimming in the ocean my nipples felt like they were getting run through a grater. They may be big & luscious, yet they are totally "Look but Don't Touch". Today's advice: a month before the baby is due, start brushing your nipples with a toothbrush to help desensitize them and make breastfeeding easier.

Aside from the onslaught of advice (were women really able to reproduce when they didn't know that they could kill the baby by lying on their backs??) which, as a pregnant woman, I've found myself drowning in, I'm finding myself awash with, "Congratulations". I just got out of nature's way, had some fun and here I am expecting the next generation. It takes no brains - as we can see on 16 and Pregnant - no brains at all to get pregnant. I know those of us 30+ do have a harder time, yet, for the most part, it felt good and I think Marc did all the work. It is like getting Congratulated for finishing a big bowl of Ben & Jerry's.

As my belly grows, I bet the weirdness responses will only increase. Last night, hubby looks over at me while I'm chopping veggies for dinner and says, "You do look pregnant". "Really?" I wonder, or do I just look like I have a belly? Of course I have to sneak upstairs to the full length mirror to check. When I have good posture, my belly doesn't go out farther than my breasts. When I slouch - my belly precedes my boobs. Belly - no Belly - Belly - no Belly.

Yes, I'm pregnant but one of the few things I've liked about my body is my flat stomach. My thighs break my heart, but my belly and narrow waist make me proud. Now the belly is not flat. I look down and my belly is blocking my view. How? Why? Did I really let this happen? I want to look pregnant, not big-bellied, is that possible? So many months to go before I diet... so many months to go...

Settling down again

2010-11-11T19:47:00.000-08:00

Life seems to have slowed, finally. The house is settled. I'm pregnant. We have a plan for our wedding - I'll tell you about that in a week or so, once the details are worked out.
The last year happened behind closed doors. From the miscarriage back in March, which may have contributed to a depression in the following months (was reading about this the other day). It took 5 months for my body to recover which, doubtlessly taxed my emotions. Combining that with a job change that, while possibly being of more career advantage, diminished my happiness level. Hanging over my head the whole time was the, "are we moving or are we staying"?
All of it felt too personal to write about. It overshadowed my adventures such that I couldn't feel compelled to write about it.
In the end, things appear to be working out. I'm back in my old job, with added responsibilities and the coworkers I adore. Since we know we're staying in the house, I got 270 bulbs to plant in the garden this weekend. I've fallen in love with the comfort of maternity pants.
My home is happy. Marc takes good care of me. He's been nudging me to be more careful of what I eat while pregnant. I do push for my 5 servings of fruits & veggies, he's trying to keep the excess Halloween candy out of my grubby paws. Although we do have a standoff - he refuses the flu shot & I'm refusing to stop consuming all types of cheese (save queso fresco which has been clearly linked to Listeria infections).
With all these changes for the better, I hope to restart writing regularly again. No longer do I have anything to hide. Until I have the baby and do something like drop it or leave it unattended near an open power socket.

Autobiography

2010-10-27T18:06:00.001-07:00

On the way home today, Bill Bryson reading his book "At Home" to me, described a 19th century explorer who, after returning to England to find his fortune in tatters, retired to his bed too lethargic to write his own autobiography.
And my first thought was, "I'm not sure we missed much." Terrible. I have a suspicion of Autobiographies. Now, to be clear, we're not talking about memoirs - those books that can engage the reader while recanting a story of a specific time or experience.
Instead of engaging or amusing the autobiography often has an agenda. Instead of amusement they often have agendas and self-promotion. I attempted to read Carly Fiorina's autobiography yet found it a description of how she glossed through life, with effortless ease having one blessed opportunity after another come her way. Of course she worked hard.
Yet even if the work was supposed to be an honest account of one's personal history, we all put bias into our memories. Just ask any researcher who studies the recall of events. Of course, if you're involved in a traffic accident, you'll recall the situation as much to your favor as possible. However, even when the person was a disinterested observer researchers find people are unable to recall the event correctly (as compared to a video chronicle of the situation). How could that tendency not be magnified when looking at one's own life?
I imagine writing my own autobiography, yet my thought is, "Who the hell would care?" Really. I haven't Done anything. My life has been rich, yet benign & bourgeois. Granted, if you're reading this, you know me and probably find certain times of my life (specifically those you shared with me) more interesting and possibly worthy of a memoir, were I to find a better writer than myself to ghost write it.
Going beyond a memoir, for an autobiography, how do I choose which events to include? How do I determine what caused what? Did my reaction to having physicians as parents result me in shunning that profession or was it actually due to my decision that biology was numbingly dull? What impact did that 7th grade boyfriend actually have on me? How much truth is there in my job history narrative that I tell all potential employers?
Now, for someone who has a blog it may seem silly to say such things about autobiographies. You're probably right. And then, I don't really expect anyone to read my blog - I mean, don't you have better things to do?

Exfoliation

2010-09-06T12:43:00.000-07:00

After spending an hour pruning my tomatoes, I had a sudden realization - pruning a plant is a lot like exfoliating. I'm just taking away the dead bits from the plant so that it can grow new, fresh leaves.

This three day weekend has been just delightful. Marc & I - after nearly 7 weeks of travel & visitors, finally can be home. He was declaring that this coming week would be his first full week in the office for 5 weeks. I corrected him - this week was a 4 day week, so cannot count in that tally - he's had 6 weeks of travel, class & vacation.

This week should give me some insight into the next 3 months. The house sale is progressing and I may have a escrow close date. Also, there is a chance I'll get a transfer to DC and I'm waiting to hear the likelihood of that. Strange to be working on settling my home situation along with investigating the possibility of moving.

Which ever happens, I'm sure it will be for the best. Each path looks inviting and once I'm on it, there isn't much I can do about it. Trial & error. A move could do good things for my career and staying here might to good things for the future family. The inability to travel both paths, look back and then make the decision makes the choice I make the best one. How can one compare it to a road not traveled?

Marc's making me breakfast. Bacon, Eggs, Mushrooms, Toast - he might even include British Beans. We've done our ride (20 miles there and back). I did my post ride triathlon training post ride run - only 15 minutes, but I was able to do 9 minute miles. The garden is trimmed and time for breakfast.

Where did the Wrinkles Come From?

2010-06-19T15:59:00.000-07:00

When I see a photo of myself I immediately check for my flaws. It starts with the expression, am I smiling? Or am I in the middle of saying something, thus appearing like one of those poor crazy people we cross the street to avoid. Are my hands & arms placed in such a way that they don't appear disproportionately large? How is my waist? Turned to look thin and delicate or am I inhaling and buddah belly? But really, is there anything about me that is delicate? I move down to the trouble zone: hips, rear & thighs? Can we crop the shot to eliminate the legs? No, then how about the ankles? I realized, after a photo of me from a beach BBQ last summer that I am NOT to wear flats with a skirt. I MUST have some sort of heel to give my ankles a good form.

These checks have been standard for 35 years... well, maybe not 34. I don't think I started turning the critical eye until I was about 12. So 23 years. Now, suddenly, I've been spotting something I haven't had to look for before: Wrinkles. The weren't there before, I swear it! Recently, like in the last 2 months, they have appeared. With a smile I've got a crease explosion coming out from the corners of my eyes. Even without smiling, there is a tightness in my face that seems to say, one wrong expression and I'm crinkling up like crumpled sheet of paper.

The wrinkles, the "I don't think I'm ever going to have legs to rival Daisy Duke" realization and I'm slidding like a contestant in Wipe Out into the deep dark pool of middle age. They talk about this and there are endless Hallmark cards mocking the fact in Walgreens. Yet, really why am I surprised that it might happen to me. I blinked and I was cast out from my shiny 20-something years and they've put me up against the MILF wall.

What can I do? Botox - I hate to say it is tempting, hell all forms of plastic surgery now seem acceptable and worthwhile. Not the other week my friend with a 6 month old said, "Yep, three years and I'm getting a boob job". That might be overkill before I have children.

Maybe I should just start out with a facial? Get some good face cream. Do eye creams really work? A recent article in the New Yorker suggested that nothing really works for wrinkles. Some treatments do some good for a short period of time... but really, I'm beginning to believe that the best way to deal is to two things. First - get into a job where one's looks do not impact one's employ-ability or income stream. Next, find a mate who won't trade you in when the smile lines persist after the smile is gone.

T.E.A Party Troubles

2010-06-19T15:47:00.001-07:00

On today's "Smug-me" trip to the Farmers Market in Brentwood, I found that the local Tea Party had a table set up. They were wearing red shirts and had signs about Federal Fiscal Responsibility.
Seeing them polluting my little liberal haven of eat-local & organic food haven irked me. Where were the for the 8 years of Bush running up the federal budget like a drunken sailor? Where are their anti-war signs? The wars are costing us millions a day. No, only when we decide to invest in our own nation do they suddenly come out of the woodwork and start demanding that we reign in spending. There are no demands that we stop bombing other nations.
What morality can account for their turning a blind eye on spending that results in killing people while motivating them to actively protesting health care for the weak, young & sick? Where are the pastors and priests decrying such behavior as completely contrary to Christ's message?
I want to spit on the Tea Party.

The Dodgers

2010-06-09T20:45:00.000-07:00

Growing up in Palo Alto, it had been suggested that I might want to be either an A's fan or a Giant's fan. Honestly I never mustered the energy to develop any sort of affection for one or the other. They both are plagued by terrible color schemes - I mean, how can the Giants represent the city of the gays with orange & black. I realize that Halloween was the biggest holiday in SF for many years, but really does our team need to dress like a pumpkin through-out the summer?
The A's aren't any better - Green & Yellow? Ick.

So, until I became Duncan's girlfriend back in my early 20's I let baseball be. But he wasn't content with my empathy towards the boys of summer. He did not make me choose between the A's or the Giants. Instead I was instilled with a loathing for the Dodgers. He explained that the Dodgers were against all good things. I liked kittens, the Dodgers hated kittens. They were for cloudy rainy days, I like the sun. They represented all things bad in the world.

About six years later, I did move to Los Angeles. I tried to embrace my new home. I went to a Dodgers game - they were playing the Giants, so it was kinda OK. I ate a Dodgers Dog and was nearly injured in the 3 fights that broke out within 10 seats from me - and I wasn't even seated in the bleachers. Such a contrast to my later experiences at PacBell Park when I moved back... from fist-fights at the Dodgers game to white wine and sushi at the Giant's park.

So, what has prompted me to write this? I have been receiving spam from the Dodgers for the last five years. I've tried to remove myself from their list. I've tried to put them on the black list with no success. They keep trying to invite me to their hateful games, despite moving 400 miles away and pledging allegiance to the Giants. Nothing stops the spam. Duncan was right, the Dodgers are evil.

Miss America

2010-05-21T13:51:00.000-07:00

I was just reading a fun bit about Miss America. Our first Arab American to be crowned. The Right wing is all up in arms - I'm guessing they feel only blond haired, blue-eyed Aryans should get the title. The idea didn't sit right with me.

The Arab world tends to be very conservative. Generally, they would prefer their women barefoot, in the kitchen and under a tent of cloth. Isn't the Miss American contest generally anthem to their values? The one event that could get picketed by both conservative muslims and card carrying feminist is the Miss America Contest.

So, if many liberal groups are repelled by said beauty pagent, what is the logic of those said liberals trying to influence with, Conservative author Daniel Pipes, says, "odd form of affirmative action". I dare say that must on the left would prefer to find the Miss America contest a home on the entertainment shelf next to black-face and throwing Christians to the lions.

Beyond that, selecting a Muslim woman is more red-neck that liberal. What better a way to give the finger to the Taliban than to allow for the lustful viewing of one of "their" women in a bikini the size of an amoeba? I'd think the Right Wing would be cheering this as a victory of Pure Blooded Americaness over commies & terrorists.

I'm going to go back to hating the event. Congratulations to Rima Fakih for winning the most repugnant prize of all.

Car Rental Reviews

2010-05-13T13:12:00.000-07:00

Tilly got put in the shop yesterday. She had a little problem that caused her to return to the body shop. My insurance got me a "free" rental. "Free" as I know I'll pay for it through my premiums.
The rental pick-up was nice enough. I got the car, drove it the mile home and didn't notice anything strange. The nice counter guy showed me how to adjust the seat, open the boot and such. Fine, fine, fine... just want to get home and nurse my wallet which feels injured by my deductible.
This morning, totally new story. I needed to get into the office today. So I leave the house, go to the car and then realize that I have no way to open the truck. The Saturn has only keys and no remote entry. Then the trunk - there is no slot for a key. I have to go around to the front door, unlock it and then press the button on the door to get the trunk unlocked. At lunch, I noticed that the passenger door doesn't rate high enough to get a slot for a key. So, if I were a gentleman and wanted to open the door for a guest, I'd have to open the driver side door, unlock the car and then run around back to the passenger side. What a production!
Little things... little things make a car acceptable.
My drive in was unresponsive and cushy - just as I would expect from an American car. The only thing is that the turn signals don't auto-cancel. They just keep going. I ended up having my idiot sign on for a solid mile. Maybe this car just has some wear & tear. The counter guy tells me that he get the cars that are just about going to die. Our little nowhere outpost doesn't get the mini's or 300's or any fun cars... we get the about-to-be-sold-to-unaware-consumers. Joy.
The last bit of note is that my drive, due to lack of MP3 connectivity, was dominated by local radio. As usually I have either BBC Radio One or my iPod filling my ears when on the road, I learned that my "just West of Ohio" neighborhood has an abundance of God-Radio. I couldn't help but feel bad for the faithful listeners, as they get really the short end of the drum-stick when it comes to music. The God-Rock puts God before the rhythm, which is marginally better than the hymns sung by the Battle-of-the-Choir competitions. Bad music and men who sound as sleazy as a vat of french fry grease. There is no good to be found there. I have to surf the stations to keep from going insane. Anyone want me to call them on my drive home? Or shall I learn the value of silence?

Keeping Fit

2010-05-13T11:40:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I decided to jog the mile to the gym, work out and then jog home. It worked out pretty well. I didn't take my gym card and got hassled a bit at the front desk, but in a non-hassling way. "Since you always bring your card, we won't bother you about not having brought it." Right.
On the way home, I pass the high school. There was some event by the auditorium and, despite it being 6:20 PM, kids were making their way back to school. I came up behind a young couple who were flirting, but distantly. I was too far back to hear what they were saying, but she was reaching our her hand, as if to touch his arm. He bobbed back and forth - occasionally leaning towards her, often retreating. I kept thinking, "You fool, she just wants to hold hands."
As I got closer, suddenly I become quite self aware. Such a contrast between these kids in their teens going through the adolescent mating rituals and me, in gym clothes running by trying to stay fit. To them, their warm afternoon gets punctuated by sweaty middle aged woman wheezing as she goes by. I must be a total wet blanket! Call me libido killer! Poor kids. But maybe I prevented an unwanted pregnancy?

Car Troubles

2010-05-03T15:23:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, as I drove over the Bay Bridge a lit cigarette stub flew into my windshield, having been released from the driver's side window of a green Honda. Not a few minutes later, as I followed a white Jeep Cherokee with License Plate# 4AVV385 garbage was released from its driver's side window. Clearly, I was so incensed, I took down their license plate. I know nothing can be done, yet I do hope that karma comes around and bites these two base, ignorant individuals. Do they really feel that the world is their trash can? Holding it until we get to the can does make a difference.
But how big of a difference? I know that trash doesn't disappear. That we just put it where we can forget about it and hope that it goes away. Instead of releasing a crumpled up something from your window while on the bay bridge, effectively ensuring that it gets released into our bay. He could have put it in a trash can where it would end up as landfill. When will we run out of landfill?
I believe, we can do better. What if we shifted away from having trash in the first place? Instead of releasing the crumpled up packaging of cigarettes (what I believe the white jeep littered), how about buying loose cigarettes and putting them into a refillable cigarette case? Not much we can do about the cigarette butts, aside from quitting smoking - which is a good idea as well.
Next we could tackle those single use water bottles. We drink the not-much-better-than-tap water out of them and then discard them. And where do they go? We could do so much better as a society by finding ways to move towards re-usables. Have pure water filling spots - aka water fountains - where people can fill up their long-term water bottles. Start charging for plastic bags at the supermarket- make the option of reusable bags much more appealing. Little steps here and there which will add up - if the majority of us do them repeatedly.
We can do better.

Doggie Designs

2010-04-19T09:47:00.000-07:00

I'm not alone!
Others enjoy making their dogs into canine topiary!
http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/19/sports/19grooming.html

Spring

2010-04-18T21:16:00.000-07:00

I found spring's arrival this year to be inconsistent. We had a week or so of sun in March, then weeks of cold & rain until Saturday. Finally the sun arrive, warmed the air and helped dry out the earth.
I spent Friday night with my mother, out in the woods. We got there late, as we were both up North. I brought a deli dinner - Thanks Andronico's - and then settled into talking. Saturday we got her iTunes and iPod talking friendly. She took me on a private March Walk. I did my best to ask any question I could think of. We had sun at the start, yet fog started rolling in by the time we were done around 2 pm. I left my mother and headed back to sunland.
I did make a stop along the way at the Half Moon Bay Nursery. I intended only to get some lavender for the front yard, two flower plants and then head home, but I could stop. Shortly after I had 4 sage plants, as I think they do good for keeping some pests away from the veggies, or so I thought. Not sure now.
So, one I was home, I kissed Marc hello and then headed into the garden. Marc followed me out and tried to offer assistance. As I put in my 8 tomato plants he did try to dissuade me. He kept saying something about "Wall of Tomatoes" and saying I would need to better contain them this year. What - just because I might have 8 tomato plants instead of 5, that might be a problem.
He kept a close eye on me as I seeded some other plants - I'm working on two bits of eggplant and then I planted some seeds I thought was corn, but now I'm not terribly sure. We'll see what comes up. I put a row of lettuce in between two rows of mystery plants. Cross your fingers.
All this to say that spring really is here. I got my garden in order. Marc bought me a bike - I rode home from REI on my new bike. Loved it. Today we had time to lie about in the sun. Another treat. I think spring is now my favorite season.

Are they Serious?

2010-04-13T10:52:00.001-07:00

So I'm reading this:
"I have hopes that President Obama will at least try to appoint somebody who will get a huge bipartisan vote, and if he will, he's going to go down in history as a better president," said Sen. Orrin Hatch, R-Utah. "If he doesn't, there's going to be a whale of a fight if he appoints an activist to the court. That's not good for him, it's not good for the Senate, it's not good for the country."

Looking toward the hearings, Senate Republican leader Mitch McConnell of Kentucky said, "Americans can expect Senate Republicans to make a sustained and vigorous case for judicial restraint and the fundamental importance of an evenhanded reading of the law."

On Yahoo news and am shocked.
The Republicans are squealing about getting a judicial nomination who understands judicial restraint. What about Bush's appointments to the Supreme Court? I mean, his justices just overturned 100+ years of rulings regarding free-speech limitations for corporations. They're steadily working their way to over turn 30 years of abortion rights. Where is their restraint?

The push by the Republicans to appoint their extremist judges has caused a shift in the court so profound that Stevens - a judge nominated by Republican President Nixon - from the center to the far left.

Their judges have little respect for civil rights - see their opinions on about anything. Their opinion on States rights ends with their own values- see Scalia's ruling on states setting their own laws for marijuana usage, contrasted to his opinions on gun ownership.

President Obama, please nominate a leftist woman who is under the age of 50. I think it is the best way to help keep the balance on the court.

You want me to drink HOW much water?

2010-03-26T15:09:00.001-07:00

The last few years I've become frequently annoyed with this pressure to drink water. The, "at least 8 glasses a day" thing. I think the last straw was being told that I need 8 glasses of water and that, No, tea and sparkling water don't count.
Really? What does all that H2O in there do to my system if not get ingested? Tea is 99% water and 1% stuff. You're telling me that 1% stuff cancels out the water? How exactly? If if did, wouldn't the 1% cause the water to shoot through my system so fast as not to get absorbed? I don't get the runs from drinking water, so I'm not believing.
Let me talk about my dogs for a minute. I've got nearly my weight in dogs - two good sized boxers and my 7lb weiner-dog. They, collectively, drink maybe 16 oz of water per day. Did humans really evolve so far from dogs that we're supposed to consume 4x the amount of water? And where did primitive man find so much water to drink daily? And how did he tote it around?
In a Bush-like effort to find the science to support my opinions rather than evaluating the scientific finds, I present you with this:
http://www.the-aps.org/press/journal/02/release8-13-02.htm
Summary of the article peer-reviewed & published by the American Physiological Society:
"DRINK AT LEAST EIGHT GLASSES OF WATER A DAY FOR BETTER HEALTH?
"This age-old advice is the scientific equivalent of an “urban legend,” with no basis in fact, according to a noted Dartmouth researcher whose findings are published in the American Journal of Physiology"

And it gets better! When it comes to coffee, tea, coke and other caffeinated beverages:
"According to Valtin, there is strong scientific evidence that not all of the 8x8 needs to be taken in the form of plain water. Research conducted by Dr. Ann Grandjean and her colleagues has shown that caffeinated drinks – most coffee, tea and soft drinks – should count towards the daily fluid intake for the majority of people. The authors' conclusion that “advising people to disregard caffeinated beverages as part of the daily fluid intake is not substantiated by the results” of their study, was published in 2000, in the peer-reviewed journal, Journal of the American College of Nutrition."

I am vindicated!

Death of a sibling

2010-03-26T13:09:00.000-07:00

I have found that losing my brother has been a terribly confusing ordeal. Not just due to his unexpected and shocking suicide, but also as loss of what was supposed to be.
In writing this, I realized how warren fills my childhood memories like mokume metal. When I think of events, he is as much of a part of them as I was, thus our entities in my mind have bleed together. I cannot recall being a child as an experience distinct from being a child with brother Warren. Not that we were some inseparable team, as we weren't a close pair even if it was visually obvious that we were siblings. We had been asked if we were twins more than once.

He had all the same teaches before I did and left shoes that I had to fill. Every teacher said, "Jennifer DeLano? Your Warren's sister, right?" From that moment I knew they would expect me to be smart & well behaved. He was in some ways in the room with me, becoming the yardstick against which I was measured.

When I came home from school, he was there. I might play in the back yard and he'd be in the living room programing the Atari. We traveled together every other weekend to stay with my father in San Francisco. He studied, played the keyboard and programmed.

Only when we went to college and matured in our 20's did my memories start to form without him. Yet, I still recall dates by our relative age. He graduated high school in 1990, and we overlapped one year, so I started high school in 1989. Likewise, we both graduated in 1993 at the same time - he after 3 years at Yale, me from Gunn.

There were a few years after college where he was doing his PhD and I was trying to sort out life after college. But then he brought me on at Sunesis and, again, life was life with Warren. I'd see him daily. We'd discuss the IT situation. He encourage me to stop staying out late on Fridays and find a worthy idea to pursue passionately, as he did with PyMOL. Lunch at Sunesis was spent in philosophical, political or ideological debate with, of course, Warren and other Sunites.

He did have a life outside mine, but it seems like a side of Warren that was very distant from the man I knew as my brother. Yes, he was married. He had a house. He did home projects. He developed PyMOL and impacted the global scientific community. He had a pilot's license and flew planes on occasion.

Our interactions were distant from that world. He continually pushed me to be better, stop all that needless travel and focus on something meaningful. We discussed the impact of the mortgage crisis on the American economy. He told me to stop being so emotional and calm down about things. Yet he did want to "be there for me" when I broke up with Greg. He frustrated me by not getting mom a gift on her birthday.

As we matured, our relationship did change. We stopped annoying each other and even started to interest each other. The last year or so, I think we started to really see the other as adults separate from ourselves. I wonder how our relationship would have changed over the next ten years. Would we have finally evolved into separate beings? I assumed we'd be interesting & annoying each other for 70 more years. That we'd retire to White Sands together and sit at the same lunch table, as we did at Sunesis, and discuss politics, philosophy, economics and such. Of course, he'd probably die a few years before me - I mean, he was my OLDER brother. There, you see that? Even as I imagine my own demises, it is an event tied to Warren.

I struggle to separate us. I feel like he was the balloon and I the hot air - he was always one step, one inch, one year beyond what I am. My actions all get measured against him and he lead the way. My memories aren't of just him, they are of me & him. When I describe him, I am utterly unable to do so without including myself. I have always been in his shadow, yet he protected me from the wind & rain.

Waiting for Warren

2010-03-24T13:33:00.000-07:00

The recent weeks have had some ups and downs. On the upside, Marc & I snuck off for a long weekend in Hawaii and he surprised me with a beautiful ring. I started a new job at the same company - which is a good move, yet stressful as I get up to speed. Then we completed a grueling 1/2 marathon with 2400 ft of elevation gain/loss. My ego felt great, but it wasn't able to help me up and down the stairs the last few days. My legs were less thrilled with the accomplishment.

Through this, I've found I've been thinking more of my brother Warren. I haven't had the urge to call him, but wish he could know what I've been doing. Normally mom would have given him updates and he and I might try to find a day to have lunch.

I feel more in denial that I did right after his death. I don't want to accept that he's dead. My father asked who I'd like to have at my birthday lunch and I couldn't include Warren & Beth. It isn't an option. He's been with me for most of the last 30+ birthdays and now he's not.

I feel my brain struggling with the concept of death. What is this not here stuff? What does it mean? Why did he die? How is it possible? Logical answers don't help me with these questions. I want an explanation from the universe - why are we here? Why isn't Warren here? Where did he go?

There just aren't answers. I am hoping my need for them eventually diminishes.

Count me Census!

2010-03-17T20:59:00.000-07:00

I can't recall where I was the last time we had the census. I don't recall much, but I do recall that, like this year, I was keen to get selected to fill out the long from. Something about filling out those forms give me a feeling of importance.

However there weren't enough interesting questions on the form. Name, gender, birth date and then race. I get to select White. I'm not of Mexican, Puerto Rican, Cuban or other Hispanic, Latina or Spanish decent. And why do we single out Mexican, Puerto Rican or Cuban? I mean, we don't count Colombian, Peruvian or Jamaican. Why are those three nationalities so special? And what if you're of Peruvian Native American stock? Do you fill out the Native American slot and say Peruvian, as that would be more accurate than Hispanic, right?

Likewise there is no interest if you're from Africa. My friend who is white, Jewish, South African descent... is he white or African American? And why should the Moroccans be lumped in with the Kenyan and Mali? Are they all the same race?

Then we come to the Asian breakdown. Suddenly we have a world of interest with Japanese getting to be different from Chinese & Korean. I mean those three countries boarder each other - that's like saying we need to have the British and Italian differentiate from each other. Are they really difference races?

At the end I realize how meaningless it all is. I check the last box, feel unfulfilled and tuck the form into the envelope to send back. There are more important unimportant things for me to fret over.

Birds

2010-03-05T07:53:00.000-08:00

I can hear birds chirping. Their twitters and chirps sound much like a mother fussing over her brood.
And such a little noise and I have flashbacks to my childhood. The blurry memories from my first few years at 3330 Thomas Drive. I'd hear them and know I had a day of fun ahead. I associate the birds with warm days - however the memories have blurred with time. First the chirping, then the back yard, then going swimming at the Eichler Swim and Tennis Club. When I was really young - 3 or 4, we might walk to the Peninsula Dairy that wasn't too far away. They kept a freezer out front where we could buy an ice cream pop. They tore down the factory and put in housing developments a few years later.
More than the sights and sound, the feeling of being small floats into my consciousness. The feeling of safe unknown - I didn't know what was in store for that day and I wasn't worried about it. I knew I'd be fed and dressed and have things to do. I wasn't worried that I needed to tackle a To Do list. Or maybe my To Do list had only a few things on it: play, eat, sleep. The world was so much bigger than I was and irrelevant to me. I neither knew nor cared how the milk got into the fridge. It was just there. The cheerios were in their box. The cat was wondering around. A child's zen of living in the moment.

Job Change

2010-02-24T20:13:00.001-08:00

Despite enjoying my job immensely, I feel I've played it out. I've learned a lot and am itching to do more, expand my skills. After some poking, prodding and self-promotion, I've got a job change. In two weeks I start a new adventure. Adventure is the right word. I'll be back in the world of direct sales. I'll have a quota again, no longer riding on others' sales successes.

However, I'm terrified. Since graduating, I've had six jobs. This will be my seventh. Of those six jobs, three fall into the category of clear mistake. Bad fit or bad manager or just plain wrong. Were I more clever, I could mine those jobs to create a dilbert-esque sit-com or screen play.

Of the other three, two were blessings (this current job falling into that category) and one was mediocre. Mediocre is not the right word. It wasn't good; it wasn't bad. Instead it came with moments of bliss and success however that interspersed with times that are best likened to being blindfolded and left in a kitchen with knives, hot pans and pots fresh from the oven scattered about.

Logically, I'm confident I can do the job. I have the skills, the drive, the motivation. With new situations, one faces many things out of one's control. Who doesn't find it easier to hide within the known, the safe and the regular. Even if it is a shortcut to mind-numbing repetition and death, the familiar pulls at us. Resist!

Flowers on the Trees

2010-02-24T20:05:00.000-08:00

Last time I checked, the calendar was still on February. However, living in California, the trees are on their own schedule. Out here in the country, the tress are getting a jump on spring. Instead of staying sticks, they have adorned themselves with boas of petals. Covering themselves in little white or pink flowers.
I just love seeing it. However, we've had a storm come through and I fear the rain has prevented the bees from doing their job. I also fear that a hard shower might cause a premature falling of the flowers.
So far, they've hung on. I just cannot stand when the trees decide they are ready to change into something more comfortable. They release their petals and then work on covering themselves in little, lime green buds of baby leaves. On the ground, like a discarded dress, the petals lie about waiting for a wind to take them on their way.
Just two months ago I thought, "this must be the prettiest time of the year with all the houses decked out in crazy lights." And then we have the blooming of the trees and I think, "this must be the prettiest time of year.". What will cause me to say, "this must be the best season!" six weeks from now?

Curling

2010-02-20T11:29:00.000-08:00

A couple weeks ago I watched the Colbert Report where Stephen visits and applies to join the Olympic Curling team. Watching him fumble and test the young men's patience, I just smiled. It ended with his remote controlled stone landing in the middle and him requesting to join the team. All the guys couldn't help but smile when saying, "No, sorry, Stephen, you can't be on our team."

And today, as I type this, the men's curling team is up against Sweden. Seeing their shining faces makes me smile again. Kudos to Stephen for making one more curling fan.

I do feel bad for my English guests, as they don't get to see their teams on TV. The coverage is almost exclusively of Americans with a token bit to the Canadians. Without a doubt the impression it leaves is skewed - it seems that it is the American Olympic games. Should we change the circles to just red, white & blue?

Adaptability

2010-02-12T08:42:00.000-08:00

As I fed our three dogs this morning, I noticed how well they were doing. The three of them, the two boxers and little Tsunami, all anxiously sat on the edge of the carpet. The aren't allowed in the kitchen while I prepare the food, so they sit and occasionally put one paw, then another, onto the kitchen floor - as if I might not notice this time. I see the creep and scold them, they retreat. Tsunami jumped back, bumped into Austin. A year ago, Austin would have growled his annoyance, testily relocating himself. But today he sat there, stoic and let Tsunami do a lap around him.

Time has helped. The first month Tsui was in this house, Austin refused to share the couch with her. She'd jump up, he'd jump down. But now they will flank me, one on each side, looking for love. Austin and Zoe do share a tighter bond than either do with Tsunami, yet I'm hoping, in another few years, they'll be buddies.

We all adapt. Strange, new and fearful new situations eventually become familiar. I wish I could have shared that with a friend who recently passed. She lost her baby, tragically, to SIDS and then her grief overwhelmed her and she took her own life. I'm sure her husband and all of her friends wish the same thing - that if we could have held her. Like I wish I could have held my brother. Been there to soothe the fear, the sadness, the overwhelming anxiety - just to help them through that rough bit. Help them learn that it will subside. That the sun also rises. We adapt, not matter how painful, we keep on living. With each breath we're closer to finding peace after the storm.

Long Time No Post

2010-02-08T10:47:00.000-08:00

This weekend we had a fantastic abundance of friends & family around. We held Warren's memorial yesterday. There were 11 speakers in all. My old coworkers were surprised that I didn't speak. I just couldn't think of anything to say. I had nothing to add.

Probably due to my selfish grieving. I mourn my loss. I mourn that I can't have him with me through the rest of my life. One family friend shared the story of seeing Warren at age 3 or so, approaching me, the baby. It was clear he was going to hit me for some reason. The family friend suggested to Warren that if he hits me, I'd scream & bite him back then our mom would come in and send us both to our rooms. I think that was Warren's first introduction to logic.

My relationship with him was so primal and selfish. He was there to harass. He was there to mock. Even with him being dead, I still tell mom how much better I am than he. It is a knee jerk reflex - I don't know how to exist without it. We were rivals. As a child I did try to minimize that - I did not try his areas of success such as science, band or computers. He was no good at sports, so I was off the hook there.

The grief has mixed completely with the confusion of his death. My logical, sane, sensible, thoughtful brother lost his mind. He spent his final weekend in a mental hospital. Did something happened in his brain? As far as we can tell his brain looked normal, yet I realize how crude our scientific understand of gray matter is. Maybe his PyMOL will illuminate the answers eventually. There is so much science that we still have to explore. His legacy, PyMOL will help us find the answers.

I know he is dead. I touched his head, patted his cold hands before they cremated him. I have a voicemail he left me. I can listen to his voice anytime I wish. But I don't need that. Having had him as my big brother, I feel like I hear his advice any time I please.

But there are things he hasn't yet weighed in on. I haven't heard his verdict on becoming an uncle. I can hear him telling me that crying over him won't help - it's just not logical. Yet I don't know what he thinks about Marc & my plans for starting our own family.

I don't feel like he's dead. I keep thinking he's right there. He's a phone call away. The memorial did force me to confront his death for 1.5 hours. We spoke about him, remembered him and looked at photos of him. Cried over him. Despite all that, I don't feel like he's dead. It is impossible. He wasn't supposed to die until we were in our 90's.

I hear it will sink in eventually.

Post Christmas

2009-12-27T08:28:00.000-08:00

I did it - made it through Christmas without a tear.
And then guilt. Today I feel like I should cry. Should let out what sorrow is left. Not that it would be possible. I think back to the days right after he died. The shock, the numbness and some part of me wants to be back there. Each day goes on and I live it out. Each day he isn't here.
So much in the world can be fixed. Most everything can be repaired. We fix cars, relationships, toys. You can pay debts. You can mend fences. Death just can't be fixed. There is no way to recover my brother. Just keep living.
And then the living seems unfair. I had a lovely time walking around Boston yesterday with my friends Mike & Ken. I enjoyed dinner at a pub in Falmouth with my Aunt & Uncle. Warren still isn't alive. He's still dead & gone.
He feels so much farther from me lately. He's gone more completely now. I don't feel his confusion, or encouragement. I don't hear him telling me what to do, like I did those first few weeks.
Losing a sibling is so strange. He was supposed to be with me. Go through life with me. Be there when my kids want to visit, as I'm visiting my aunt now. My parents have such acute pain - they lost their son. Their son who should have outlived them. His wife lost her world. I just lost him. The order of kids has been upset. I reject the position of oldest child. Brendan and I should both have stable Warren to be there for us. Warren the rational, the normal, the straight and narrow. Some part of my psyche thinks that I should start conforming now. Like I need to take his place. I'd fail at that miserably. How do I keep being me without his counter balance?

3 Weeks, 4 Days

2009-11-28T10:19:00.000-08:00

I was told that Thanksgiving was going to be tough. I didn't really believe it. I had had only 3 Thanksgivings with Warren in the last 20 years, so why would this one be different.
I was wrong. The two days prior I had been able to wake-up happy again. I reveled in the passing of the strongest waves of sadness. I hoped that the worst had passed. Yet, something about knowing that I'd never get to have my brother with me on Thanksgiving crushed me. It tossed me back into the state I had been those first few weeks after his death. I just held onto Marc and cried. I had a glass of wine and watched Super Troopers to keep me from being a sobbing blob of sorrow. Another factor I was not expecting was the exhaustion. The strong emotions wipe me out. I felt dizzy, barely able to walk from my office to the den.
To treat the exhaustion enough to make it to my father's on Thanksgiving I downed a Rockstar. It worked, but left me amped up for bedtime. Marc's first Thanksgiving with my family went well, aside from the general sad mood.
Yesterday the sorrow lingered. Only today did I wake up feeling better. I crave Normal, yet what is Normal now? Can I say that I'm thankful that I didn't see Warren every day? That he a constant presence - so now the new Normal looks a lot like the old Normal. Part of me feels that my grief is out of proportion; we weren't *that* close, how can I feel *that* sad. Like I have no right.
I feel what I feel. Today I feel OK. I'm up to distracting myself with the Christmas Card list.
Let's hope I can manage to feel this OK until Christmas. I suspect it will be as bad as Thanksgiving.

Sorrow

2009-11-13T07:39:00.000-08:00

On Nov. 3rd, my big brother, Warren, took his own life.
It doesn't make sense. I'm not sure it ever will. Just a week prior he was off happily hiking in the mountains with his wife. Then he crashed and we couldn't save him.
The pain of losing him runs deeper than I thought possible. And I hadn't seen him since July. I did get a voicemail that I'm going to have saved. He said, "oh, and I Love You." at the end. We weren't close and that doesn't seem to matter. He was supposed to grow old with me. He was supposed to tell me how to better raise my kids (not that he'd know, having decided long ago that he wouldn't have any - and I don't have any yet).
Now I have a new marker... no longer does my time start with the birth of Christ. I mark things by his death. On Tuesday it was, He's been dead 1 week. Today it is 10 days since he died. Soon we'll have 1 month. After my birthday, it will be about 4 months. People keep saying, "the holidays will be tough." and "It gets easier with time." I'm still waiting for the 24 hours without tears maker.
At first I didn't want it to get easier. I wanted to hold on to the pain, as anything less might mean I want or even feel OK with forgetting him. Then a wonderful man suggested I try to think of how Warren would want me to remember him. And I also heard Warren whispering, "Jen, don't be so emotional. Be rational." He'd be so critical of me if I were to be trapped in darkness from his death. I don't think he ever understood how I could be so distressed over relationships or emotional things.
This morning was the first time I could wake up and not be sad. For the first few days, waking and sleeping were the hardest times - followed by driving. Those were the times I had to be alone. After a week, the grief moved into daily things. I tried to go to work - just for some distraction. However, my mind has been utterly unable to focus. I forget things. I start something and am so easily distracted. I don't know how I was able to finish the Open Enrollment at the office. My lists of To Do are so basic, I nearly include, "brush your teeth" on them. Don't ask me what the date is, I have no idea.
The shock has worn off and so far I'm stuck with the thought, "I want my brother back!" fills the pauses in the day. At those times I try to return to how he'd want me to remember him. He'd want me to remember how he took me to breakfast after my last break-up. He wanted to comfort me, but, for once, I didn't need it. I was touched that he tried. I remember our lunches where we'd but heads over our life choices... he thought I should be more like him, I thought he should be more like me. He had such a laser focus on life. My laser didn't have a focus, more it resembled the night sky in a planetarium. I have always struggled with a little jealousy and a little disdain for how he so early on found his passion and then did only that. Reading the blog will memories of him, he was so lucky to be able to fill his days with exactly his passion - Science & computers. That's all he needed. He never struggled with the question, "What should I do with my life?" He knew and he acted - and science has been blessed by the results.
I love you, too Warren.
I wish I never knew of your scientific achievements. I wish I just knew the brother who I loved and disparaged. The genius who I could feel superior to when I called to remind you to get a card & gift for Mom's birthday. Did you remember this year? I did.
I wish you were here. I just can't imagine how life will be without you.

One Week, Two Towers

2009-08-15T17:37:00.000-07:00

I got home today from a long, exhausting week.
Starting backward - At 4 AM this morning I woke up in Toronto. At 7 AM we were pulling away from the gate. I had upgraded to Economy Plus and even scored a bulkhead. Things were going good, until a frazzled mother of 3 children settled in behind me. She put her youngest little one behind me in a special seat that gave the tiny devil the 5 extra inches his legs needed to kick my chair. Clearly he wasn't happy about the arrangement, as he wailed and kicked on several occasions. I do believe he slept for about an hour - I took advantage of the silence. However he did awaken, poop himself (I'm guessing that was where the poop smell came from) and mom took him to the bathroom for a clean-up, giving me an extra 5 minutes of snoozing before the next round of kicking and wailing.
Having recently finished A Year Of Living Biblically, and thinking of how the author won a battle with his wee-one in a mature & biblical way. I did jerk around during one of his fits and caught eye contact with his mother. She knew what was going on and was doing her best to keep the kid under control. I could just tell that saying something would only frustrate her without getting us any closer to a more settled child. So I let it be thinking, "I'm sure I once kicked the crap out of chair when I was that small. Life comes full circle."
Eventually I opened the window just to see Yosemite go by - we flew just North of Half-Dome and I looked down to think, "I'm going to be there in 3 days!"

Friday was a good day. I didn't quite get in a work-out as planned. Having had my first full night sleep in 2 days, I traded the tread mill for for an extra 30 minutes of sleep. Work had piled up since my long trip to Toronto, and I wanted to get to the most urgent before spending the morning on a critical team building exercise on Lake Ontario. I won't bore you loyal reader with the details of the meeting.

Friday afternoon I took a lovely walk from my Westin Harbour Castle across the downtown to the Royal Ontario Museum (ROM). Lovely walk through the downtown to the University of Toronto where the ROM sits. I did check online and found that they had some discount program for Friday night, so there was a line out front. I enjoyed standing in it. I got handed a flyer by some passerby about the exhibition which happened to be on display - The Dead Sea Scrolls.

I thought we were done with the hubbub about the Dead Sea Scrolls. And I was right. What I didn't realize was that some Palestinian group believes they are the rightful property of Palestine and must be returned. In fact there were maybe 10 protesters. The flier they handed me stated that the scrolls had been in the East Jerusalem museum until their "unrightful theft" by Israel. What did I think? These scrolls have been safe & touring since their "theft". The scrolls are a bit of history - and unrivaled and precious gift. Why would we let that be in the care of a unstable government? Islamic extremists blew up statues of the Buddha, what would we put these treasures in their hands? I'm for holding on to the treasures securely in the west until the trouble in the middle east simmers down.

The scroll exhibit was fantastic. It took a call with Marc later in the evening to recall why they were so important... the text of the bible hasn't always been fixed. There were edits and different versions along the way. Next to it, I also got to see the Egyptian Book of the Dead, mummies and a lovely collection of Hellenistic Pottery. However, the end of the museum visit had to be the best - eating at their top floor restaurant. I dined on lamb with eggplant puree, something like hummus with tabbouleh. Stunning combination and I reflected that those who amassed the dead sea scrolls probably didn't dine this finely back 2000 years ago.

More later. We've got dinner to cook.

Green Monsters

2009-08-07T06:50:00.000-07:00

Two interesting articles (Thanks Mark Morford!)

First, my feeling that the Federal Organic Label was BS has been vindicated. Strange how I just knew that the "organics" at Safeway weren't right and I've even had some questions about Trader Joe's when it comes down to it. Evidently, the Federal Regulators have been swayed by the Food Industry and foods labeled USDA Organic have synthetic stuff in them. Ick!

Like the Hebrew Kosher labels, I need an Organic Label I can trust. I do trust Whole Foods, yet I would like to have a holy of holy Organic Label created & issued by an organization that I trust who clearly defines what it calls Organic; clearly stating what is pesticide free, what is free range and such.

The USDA - eh? Their concerns: "The market's expansion is fueling tension over whether the federal program should be governed by a strict interpretation of "organic" or broadened to include more products by allowing trace elements of non-organic substances" Yikes.

Next - While I'm not going to feed these things to my worms, here's a list of 75 things you can compost. Who knew? And I'm not sure I want the contents of my vacuum bag added to the worms who will produce compost that I'll put on my organic garden. Yeah, but I do have 2 compost piles - the organic & the not-so-organic. The not-so-organic will get used in the garden on things that don't go into the food chain, while the strictly organic will get infused into the veggie patch.

So go forth and be green!

Finding Time

2009-08-04T10:36:00.000-07:00

I used my East Coast Lunch Break to walk the dogs today. The last time they had gotten out for a stretch of the paw was Saturday. I feel terrible. They hang out all day with us. They look at us with those longing eyes. How can I be so neglectful?

However with the summer heat, the dog walking window has shrunk. By 10 AM the temperatures pass 80 degrees, which I enjoy. However, their fur coats do limit their enjoyment of the sun. So the walk has to happen first thing or at the end of the day.

The end of the day poses problems. Sunday we were crashing from a long, fun friend filled weekend. Yesterday I didn't come home until 10, as I got invited to dinner with Ilyse and friends. We did have a lovely time, enjoying chatting & curry in the Richmond District. However, the four-of-paw were left out of the good times.

The last week has been a non-stop run of friends & fun. Thursday we briefly saw Aaron. We saw Greg while loading my furniture into the U-Haul. Saturday Shawn celebrated her birthday with friends & family. Sunday Jen & baby joined us for amazing pancakes. I got in a chat with Gail before old friends Kairi visited with her daughter & husband. Yesterday I had time with Liz -shopping for a B-day gift for Hil's, then dinner with Ilyse, Matt & friends. Fun and exhausting. And I know there are so many others I didn't get to have time with, and are on the horizon. I think making time for friends would be a lovely full time job - not sure how I'd pay the mortgage, eat and fuel the mini - but fun!

Today may be quieter.

More Growth on the Way

2009-07-28T09:30:00.001-07:00

After letting the dirt settle from the De-Corn-ification, I felt ready to plant this weekend. I decided that I would need to let my seedlings eat or grow, so I pulled out the two remaining cauliflower/broccoli plants and put in a row of mystery Arugula/Beet plants. I'm hoping they take and don't get devoured as my little basil did.

I also put some basil in dirt and am hoping to grow it as well. Part of this weekend's efforts included a massive tomato harvest. Yesterday, from the harvest, I made divine tomato, basil, garlic pasta sauce. I was so proud when Marc told me it was the first time he's every really liked pasta. So proud!

But I did have to purchase the basil and now, again, I've got a load of basil. With my last two efforts in pesto making being somewhat unsuccessful, I'm thinking of other options for the basil. I still have tomatoes and i'm wondering if I can make some yummy bruchetta.

Also planted this weekend - thanks mom for the seeds! - carrots. My mom has never had luck with carrots so gave me this pack of seeds. She said to take care that the ground stays damp. I probably should have put a layer of mulch over the little seeds, but I was afraid of impeding their potential growth.

Next to the scattering of carrots, I planted a row of sunflowers. I'm not a big sunflower seed eater, however I did read a little article in Sunset Magazine about this: www.greatsunflower.org
I just realized I might not be using the correct type of sunflowers... I'm going to have to go out and find others. We'll see. I have time.

Time does seem to be on my side. However, nature does seem to be moving in. I haven't yet seen another Horn Worm and the Green Looper Caterpillar count is way down - bordering on 0. However, I do find these orange/black bugs that seem to be hanging out near white spots in the leaves. I've been fighting some mite infestations, I will need to do another organic spray-down this weekend. And there seems to be a growing population of spiders - which isn't the worst thing, I just wish they'd eat more of the mites. The ecosystem is evoloving. Along with it, I've had to evolve a doggie guard, as I think Zoe has developed a taste for my fresh from the vine fruit.

All in all, I'm happy with it.

Growing Big Things

2009-07-23T11:17:00.000-07:00

Sunday I pulled out the two rows of corn. Friday I had harvested 2 ears and boiled them up, only to find that they were as hard as plastic. I searched on the web for the story behind why my corn would be like rock and learned that it was due to my harvesting too late.

Saturday I went out and collected all the corn I could. I hucked it and gave the strings & husks to the worms. After boiling it up, I found that about half of it was edible. Sad. The corn stalks had grown so tall and were such a point of pride. Too bad they didn't do so well in the production department. They suffered from mites at the end. Black mites which coated the ears like a mold.

Sunday the stalks were chopped down. I cut them up and put them in the pile of unwanted plant remains that is growing in the side yard need the gate in the fence. I felt sad and betrayed. All that love. All that water. Had I failed them or them me?

My attempts at growing seedlings has stalled. Some started and died in the hot sun, despite my watering. Others have found to be tasty nibbles for some unseen, and so far unstoppable, leave nibbler. Of the 20 onion seeds planted, I have 4 small shoots. I can't tell the arugula from the beets, as they both have red stalks for some reason.

The little plants looks too delicate to forcefully relocated into the soil. Then where can I plan them to allow them to thrive? I think they should go where the broccoli/cauliflower runts were. There they can get sun. The space left vacant by the corn has partial shade due to the 6 ft tall tomato plants blocking out the sun.

We'll see where they land.

Race Relations

2009-07-22T09:08:00.000-07:00

I just saw this article:
http://www.cnn.com/2009/US/07/22/gates.arrest.reaction/

A prominent black scholar was arrested, in his home, as a suspect for burglary. Some white woman called in and reported a break-in at the man's address, the police came and arrested the man. Stunning.

Now, this could be a Saturday Night Live skit - but have the break-in be at the white house and poor O'bama getting arrested. Would be quite a statement. Not sure if its funny, as it hits too close to home. The DC Police can make a statement like, "It was an unfortunate and regrettable incident".

Underneath - the head of our Supreme Court states, "The only way to end race discrimination is to stop discriminating." That's working out real well, don't you find? This man has no recourse. He's taken in, booked and harassed - impacting his standing in the community. Impacting his life, as he might have had work he needed to do or time to spend with his family, but instead, the state has taken his time & well being based on race. Imagine this a million times over.

When I was a child, my friend Cheran's mother was a judge. She went to South Africa when there was still apartheid where she got arrested by the police. I think it was due to being a black woman with a camera. When asked what she did, the police didn't believe she was a judge in America. Their bias was so thick, telling them the truth - that a black man owns a mansion in Cambridge or that Amercians might find that blacks are the intellectual equals of whites - doesn't penetrate their thick skulls.

I don't want to be judged by a court who is lead by a man who doesn't understand the impact of being black, latino/a, asian or female in this society. His insulated, posh, caucasian background prevents him from understanding the lumpy impact of the law's uneven application. I am excited to have Sotomeyer on the Supreme Court and to see the influence of her Wise Latina self.

Feeling sick

2009-07-06T14:57:00.000-07:00

What shall I name this little guy? I found him happily eating my mound of tomato plants. He evoked a little yelp and near sprint to the garden door. When I noticed him, he was high up and only a few inches from my face. I think he (or she, who knows) could have happily hopped over to my nose, were it foliage instead of flesh and continued to chow down.

Now I'm not sure what to do with him. Nor what to name him. I took a close-up of his head & claws. He has

Each of his little paws has ten or twelve little spiky-grippy things that help him cling to my tomato.

I enlarged the photo and was fascinated by his features. The polka dot pattern; the little hairs; the faux eyes; the under the mouth claws to help guide in the leaves; his upper lip that appears to end in teeth.

I feel queazy. And the worst part is that I know he isn't the only one. There must be more where this guy came from.

I've got goose bumps on my arms and I swear I can feel one of them crawling on my neck, under my hair.

Here he's posing on a CD to give you a sense of size. Can you see the claw-hook that sticks out as a dog's tail would, but in this case it is more like a thorn defense found on so many plants.

At first I got him into a paper cup. My first instinct was to run. Then I realized I had to remove this critter from my garden before it ate every leaf & stem. I wrested him into a cup with a chop-stick and sacrificed th tomato branch in the process - he wasn't going to let go! Next - bring the cup that was not coated in green caterpillar blood up to Marc to show him. I left him the cup. Really, I don't know what to do with it!

War of the Roses

2009-07-05T20:24:00.000-07:00

Nature has reclaimed my vegetable plot. The pristine, bug free Eden is giving way to the creepy crawlies of the fallen land. Last week, itt started with a large black spider. I let it hop away, as I peeked around for any green loopers. After I harvested the collard greens & lettuce, the earwig count and caterpillar counts dropped dramatically.

On the same day I found the spider, I found a yet to be identified black and orange beetle. The next day one of my plants - unsure if it is a broccoli or cauliflower - was showing some mites. I washed them off. The next day I found the plant with a mite blanket and realized I had to take action.

Friday I visited the local nursery. The visit had three purposes, to get some organic soapy insecticide, get me some live insecticide in the form of lady bugs and finally, to get some sort of trellis to restrict the growth of my tomatoes. The woman at Pompei Nursery helped me out, going above & beyond to answer my newbie questions. She patiently listened to me discribe the tomato situation and suggested that the plants were probably spending a lot of their energy producing those vines. The arms of the tomato plants were twisting their way through the corn, over-hanging the bell peppers and oppressing my broccoli.

I came home and did a big tomato trim, after having been emboldened by the lady at the nursery. I trimeed down all arms without actual baby tomatoes. I dramatically scaled back the massive mound. Then, using an article my mother clipped for me, I found that my tomatoes are indeterminate - so I should have these for a long time. Marc came out and assisted me with the installation of the trellis bits. We created two wall-like breaks onto which the tomatoes can climb find support. They seemed happy today after we got it all settled.

Back to the bugs - I used the insecticide soap, which smelled so good, I had a hard time knowing when to stop the application. However, the bugs were still there this morning. Saturday AM I had released one of the two containers of ladybugs, yet I put some on the plant with the mites but they didn't seem interested. I did'n'g get the impression that they were ready to much down.

Then this morning, I discover three of those big (say .5 inches by .33 inches) orange & black bugs. Writing about them makes my skin crawl. The ceiling fan gently blows my hair on my neck and I keep thinking that it is the bugs and each sentance I type gets interrupted by a swipe of the hand to my shoulder. Ick.

Marc came out to visit me as I tended the plants and immediated spotted a bug that we later idetified as a stink bug. It pushed me over the edge. We did research on the web and found that many bugs are made scarce by spraying down plants with a mixture of molasses and water. So I grabbed our yet to be used spray pump, filled it up with the mixture and coated my garden and self with the mixture. I'm hoping to check tomorrow that it worked. Either way, I'll be releasing the 2nd round of the ladybugs in the morning. The thought of keeping them for another day in the refridge breaks my heart. Those creatures should be free and out in the world, doing good.

I'm hoping I can find a way to manage the bugs, the blissful plant-it-and-it-will-grow halcyon days at the start of my garden seem to be fading. I am also having problems in the worm farm. I believe I added too much food without providing worm bedding. When putting in the bits from today's cooking, I found that there weren't as may worms as I would have liked. In addition, I found two nearly 1 inch long grubs. Not good. I may need to harvest the compost and get new worms supplies. I'm hoping that I the little guys were just hiding, not missing all together.

Sad day in the garden.

Living with a Killer

2009-07-02T08:01:00.000-07:00

About 5:15 this morning Tiger wakes us with her special meow. The one that says, "I'm tracking my wounded prey for my amusement." The morning light doesn't illuminate the shadows enough for us to identify the silent victim, so we try to go back to sleep while hoping that whatever it is will not join us in bed.

Fifteen minutes later I climb out of bed to find that she's taken on one of the large moths - it would cover 1/2 my palm were I not to chicken to hold it - and is chasing it around the master bath. I dodge the moth while brushing my teeth, secretly cheering when it finds refuge behind the shutters of a window that, initially, seemed too high for Tiger to get to. I pray for the bug's escape, while being utterly unable to assist it, as well as for a quick death, if that is the critter's fate. She takes a break to come over to me, in hopes that I might giver he a little affection or turn the tap so she can drink from the faucet. Cheeky, as the Brits would say.

An hour later the bug is silent, yet Tiger is hopping up and somehow clininging to the bottom of the blinds, suspending herself - I don't know how, cand she get her claws into the drywall? I haven't checked on the bug.

When I moved in with Tiger, Marc mentioned that she would do this sort of thing. I didn't believe him. I've lived with cats and, yes, there is the occasional mouse and bird, but moths? lizards? He had to be joking. No - here on the edge of the delta, there seems to be more wildlife. She regularly brings in 3 inch lizards. Two nights ago she had one in the hall between the garage & kitchen. I saw her, then realized what she had and squealed. That set off the dogs - Austin running to my rescue by biting the lizard. 10 minutes later I mustered up the courage to check on the critter - one eye had popped out, yet hung by something.

The lizards I will save. Last week we chased off the Tiger & the dogs - the barkers get excited when I squeal - and we used an empty coffee tin to trap a gecko. Catch & release. I just can't muster the courage to help the bugs. Yesterday morning I went to pick up, what I thought was a blade or grass or thin leaf from the floor of the master bath, assuming it was something that Tsui had picked out of her, now mohawked, coat. Silly me. Marc laughed as I yelped and flung the detached tail across the room. The feel of the limp, rough, no mistaking what it ickiness was almost too much for me.

The bits are the worst - Tiger has a love for decapitation. I've cleaned up multiple headless bodies left about the house. She loses interest when they cease moving, it seems. I think she figures that the game is done and she's ready for some kitty treats.

I'll check for the bug remains tonight, after I've mustered up the courage - or, I'll ask Marc, if I haven't stealed my stomach.

Time and Energy

2009-06-30T15:17:00.000-07:00

Each day starts and we choose how to live it. Certain hours are devoted to sleep; others to work and finally, time to play.

Walking the dogs this morning I was struck at how our choices have changed over the centuries. Reading The Woman in White, nearly all the characters would take time each day for a walk. The expression, Morning Constitutional comes from that I believe. The author clearly valued such behavior, as all the good people were disposed to activity, while the villains were not known for having any physical habits.

It got me to thinking - what do I value? Where do I put my time, money & energy. The recent trip with Marc to attend his step-mother's funeral was a value decision. For me, time with Marc and being with his family during the funeral embodied the value I place on family; I spend my time, energy & money on family.

Likewise, I am invested in our upcoming trip to Peru. Having read about it in the guidebook, researched the guide options and assisted with the deposit. Yet, I realized I've been thinking more about a trip to Alaska. I have always wanted to visit Alaska- see Denali, cross into the Arctic Cirlce and check out the glaciers. That's supposed to be for next summer, yet I'm already there.

On the smaller end, I organize my day to have work time, time for home life (cooking and tending my garden) and time at the gym. I like to have a walk with the dogs. This morning they were running in the sprinklers with the biggest grins on their faces. Funny the sense of accomplishment I felt for giving our dogs that joy. They are family too and I want the best for them.

Watching TV makes me itch - as I can feel time passing and know I'm losing hours that could be spent in more engaging pursuits. I buy audiobooks to both enhance my learning and make use of time in the car that might otherwise be lost. At times, I realize I get compulsive about it all. I schedule these things - in the last few years, I've tried to get to Boston & Austin to see friends & family on an every other year schedule.

But then I think, yes I am compusive, yet those I'm visiting don't do the same. And I start to think and look at where those around me put their time, energy and money. They make the same choices I do each day, maybe not as compulsively analyzied, yet they are the same choices. Who should I see? How should I spend my paycheck? What show should I watch? What book to read? Gym or Work? And then I step back and compare. If I'm investing me into these things, shouldn't others be matching me?

Where do you put your resources? What does that say about you and your values?

Garden Report

2009-06-24T14:58:00.000-07:00

Today I took to the tomatoes. They had grown taller than me - really, a tomato plant that was over 5'9"! However the plants slumped this weekend. I blame it on the wind that was blowing this weekend. The gusts pushed & tossed my vines, so that they are now expanding. In an effort to trim the fabulous five plants back a bit, I tried to take off all non-flowering, non-tomato producing growth. It was a herculean task and the entire creation still appears to be flopping about. There are flowers on nearly every stalk as well as little tomatoes and bigger green tomatoes.

On Monday I was tending them and found the first red cherry tomato. I took it in, showed it to Marc and then enjoyed it. The rest of the tomatoes are stubbornly holding on to their Green like Irish on St. Patty's Day. I check daily for any signs of red within the expanding green mass. Each day I'm disappointed. How could there be just one red tomato? Wouldn't it have little tomato-mates that grew with it? If so, they are well hidden among the rich smelly branches.

On sadder note, I had to pull up yet another broccoli plant. I feel so bad. I helped created these plants. I put them in the ground and encouraged them to take root. But, after they didn't perform, I have cruelly removed them from the plot - in a plan to make way for more productive things. I'm making the garden for growth and yet I reap and destroy plants in the process.

Back to the good news... the Zucchini plant is thriving. I've got a think - we're talking over 1.5 inches in diameter think - zucchini growing with two following closely. I think I'll harvest this round on Friday for dinner - we'll have Zucchini & steak and corn. And there's a fleet of little pre-zucchinis waiting their turn to grow big & sweet.

The corn plants have shot up and are now working hard on their ears. I don't know when to harvest and am trying to find that information on the web. Similarly, I'm trying to figure out why my cauliflower hasn't done its thing and grown a head either.
Here's the instructions:
http://www.ehow.com/how_9878_grow-cauliflower.html
Step 4: Keep cauliflower plants evenly moist; especially when they're small, they need about 1 inch of water a week, whether from rain or the garden hose.
Step 5: Start the blanching process when the flower head (also called a curd or button) is about the size of an egg. Make sure neither it nor the foliage is wet; otherwise the plant may rot. Loop heavy twine around the leaves, gently lift them up and tie them together. The aim is to keep light and moisture out, but to let air in and also leave room for the flower to grow inside its shelter.

Do you notice some dramatic lack of information... I put the plants into the ground and have been waiting for the head/curd/button... for naught. There's no indication of time. But I did realized the first paragraph states, "Though it's a cool-season vegetable, it can't tolerate weather that's too hot or too cold" Cool-Season veg - like growing it in 90+ degree heat might now work? I'll feel so sad pulling it out. I was just rejoicing my victory over the caterpillars - they seem to have disappeared.

Now, I did see a little something that made me happy:
http://www.growingpower.org/
Their mission: "Inspiring communities to build sustainable food systems that are equitable and ecologically sound, creating a just world, one food-secure community at a time."
Pretty neat - I wonder how that might get going in my community.

Adult life in the 'burbs

2009-06-20T13:51:00.000-07:00

At 9 months, my parents moved me & my brother to an Eichler settlement in Palo Alto, CA. As long as I could remember, our house was fire engine red with white trim. The house had few windows on the front and was a wall of plate glass in the back.

Eichlers were mass produced homes built in the 1950's for solders to move into with their young wives to raise their families. My house had 4 bedrooms, 2 baths and atrium with the most prolific lemon tree, the kitchen that opened in to the diningroom and a living room. All that was tucked into less than 2000 sq. ft, single story, detached house. The walls were thin and I'm still amazed I was able to sneak out at night without my mom knowing.

About 5 blocks from home was the Eichler Swim & Tennis club. Our little club had maybe 6 tennis courts, probably only 4; one big pool with 5 or 6 lanes and a deep bit off the laned portion that went to 10 ft deep and had a diving board. There was the baby pool which we grew out of but took over on occasion. 6 of us could get in and circle around the small round pool, creating a whirlpool. When the water started to splash out the sides the life guards often noticed and kicked us out. Fifteen minutes of every hour was Adult Swim when we all would like on the cement drying off, letting the adults have a chance to enjoy the water without their little ones clinging to them.

Fast forward 25 years and I'm again living in a housing development. Only this time the homes are built on an entirely different scale. Marc's house is over 3000 sq ft. We have 4 bedrooms, but 3.5 baths - with the master bath being bigger than the bedroom I had when growing up. The upstairs has the bedrooms, a loft area, laundry and a high, double height section. The ground floor has the gourmet kitchen, breakfast room, den, living room (we call that the library) and then the garage. Everything is bigger than my little place in Palo Alto.

The bigness extends to the neighborhood. The parks are bigger and more abundant. My new club - it isn't just swim & tennis, but also a gym, childcare, basketball courts and spa. Their are at least a dozen tennis courts - some are even covered in this massive dome thing. The pools are bigger - 2 hot tubs (one is adults only), the family pool with the baby pool attached, the lap pool with 6 lanes and then a covered lap pool that gets used for aquasize. The changing room has showers, lockers, a sauna & steam room. The cars in the lot are bigger - though that has more to do with the migration of sububan moms from volvo station wagons to Bloated Land-ships. The people also seem bigger, but maybe that's just my being judgemental.

I'm not sure bigger is better. I do feel a twang of guilt when we close the windows against the 100 degree heat and enjoy the airconditioning - another feature missing from my childhood home. I appreciate the yardage of counter space in the kitchen, yet could do without the breakfast nook. Where does it stop? Our massive over consuption - I'm living it. Get me some solar panels!

Garden Update

2009-06-17T17:00:00.000-07:00

The latest garden dispatch contains sad news. I had to pull out 1/2 of my broccoli plants. I didn't realize they were ready for harvest. Their buds were so small, just bigger than a ping-pong ball. So I didn't think that they were ready for harvesting. Then they flowered. I thought that odd, as I hadn't expected the broccoli to flower before growing its head. When checking the wise internet, I learned that they had gone to far and were no longer useful. I pulled them up.

The seedlings I planted will soon be big enough to go in and fill up their gaps. One of the beet-lings has two red-stemmed growths and one green. I'm not 100% sure what will grow or why these other seeds are sprouting. Maybe this is why one is supposed to use that special, sterilized soil when getting seeds to sprout. Hmm will have to consider that in the future.

On a brighter note, I found green tomatoes tucked away in the massive tangle of greenery in my veggie plot. They are bright green and one is nearly the size of a gypsy pepper. I can't wait for them to get some red streaks and start to change into something edible. Checking on them scents my hands with that fantastic tomato plant smell. Every day I poke my head around there.

The zucchini plant has done so well since getting moved to a pot. It has produced a 7 inch zucchini and a 4 inch baby zucchini. I'm trying so hard not to pick them - instead letting them keep growing. The whole thing seems like magic. How did I get so disconnected from my food?

DIY Triathlon

2009-06-14T15:58:00.000-07:00

So Shawn invited me to join her on her next triathlon. I'm considering it. I went out and blew $200 on gear - swimsuit, bike shorts, swim cap & goggles (plus an ultralight fleece that was on sale). The bike shorts were deemed mandatory when Marc & I did a 10 mile, hellish ride the other night just to get some cardio in. Fifty minutes later I was barely able to walk, embarrassed at my exceedingly slow time and unable to sit down either. No fun, got me a bit concerned about doing this tri.

Friday I bought the suit and friday night I did an 8 pm swim. I did 20 laps of a 25 meter pool. I was able to swim some 1250 meters or what one tri training schedule suggested for a swim. It took a little under 30 minutes and I wasn't impressed, dark sky, cool water, shivers to-from the locker room.

Despite the not so successful start to my triathlon training, I decided to have an informal triathlon today. My desire to test my abilities combined with a why-is-the-scale-going-up? moment has spurred me to burn more calories that I intake, by a factor of 100%.

Here are the results:
7 mile hike - 2:33 - 748 calories - mind you, this was with the dogs and Zoe was taking every opportunity to lay down in the shade to rest, I also had to pull burrs from Tsui's paws several times and prevent Austin from mauling every dog we passed.
10 mile bike - 40:50 - 458 calories - this was on the expresso bike machine. I think I did pretty good. The new bike pants were a saving grace. Now,
1 mile swim - 36:45 - 474 calories - Calorie count based on random website.

Total Time: 3 hrs 50 min with 1680 calories burned.
While the Sprint I'm training for is .5 mi swim, 20 mi bike and 4 mi run - I did try to balance out the exercises, as there was no 20 mile bike option for the stationary bike and I have no bike.

However, the walking in the sun with the breeze and views delighted me. The bike ride challenged me and had me sweating. The swim felt fantastic with sun and water. I'm thinking that I might look at getting a bike soon.

Time

2009-06-07T16:28:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a book on Time. The interested came about after reading a book on life in England in the year 1000. Life back then didn't have clocks. The church didn't have a tower with time - those arrived in the 1300's. Days were marked by sunrise, noon and sunset. There were sun-dials that created hours as divisions of the day that changed as the seasons changed. In the summer, hours were longer, in the winter, they were shorter. If one woke in the dark, s/he had no way of knowing if dawn were almost there or if they had been sleeping for merely an hour. I find it nearly unfathomable.

My first thought, "How could two people meet for lunch?" and then I realized, there were no restaurants, so meeting for lunch wasn't going to be a concern. Hmm, life existed before lunch dates?

Speaking of noon, we have standardized noon. Before we divided the world into time zones, every town had noon on their own - why not? Was noon anything other than when the sun was highest overhead? Yet, as we now are divided, from Las Vegas to San Francisco our watches read 12:00 and the sun may not be at its highest point over head. We switched from sun time to clock time.

Clock time marks our days, for those of us raised in the digital age, imaging all towns setting the clock over their town hall to be noon at the local, sun-time of noon seems absurd. Yet, as recently as 75 years ago, that was the way it worked. The trains were the stimulus for the change to time zones. Think, if a train was leaving San Francisco at 12 noon and had a 10 hour journey to Las Vegas, when would it arrive? How would the stations along the way - each with their individual setting of the hour know when the train should arrive? Say the train reached Fresno after 4 hours - would it be 4 PM or something possibly later (as Fresno is father east, it would, presumably, have time running slightly ahead of San Francisco).

Only in the first quarter of the last century did people start to wear watches. This came about during WWI - as soldiers were issued wristwatches so that they might better sync up. Along with watches came migration and movement... the trains would have the say. They divided up the country so that they could make arrival and departure schedules. The time of sun defined noon came to a close.

It would be only a matter of years before the move from sun-time to clock-time was complete. Think, man started to mark the days with the sun dial - giving days divisions: night, before noon, noon and afternoon with changing hours. Then the clock was invented - a means to produce a regular marking of time developed in the 1300's and then hours were no longer divisions of the day, but independent. They were X-number of clicks of the clock. The day soon was divided into 24 equal hours - no longer 12 hours for the time when the sun was up & 12 hours of darkness. Now the hours were independent from the days. As the clocks progressed we got minutes - in the 1600's there were 4 divisions in the hour. But 1800 there were 60 minutes in the hour. By 1900, there could be 60 seconds within the minute. As our clocks developed, so did our divisions of time. Yet until 1967, the second was a division of a day: 1/86,400 (60 sec x 60 min x 24 hours).

In 1967 the second changed. From a part of a day, it was modified to a definition I can't quite understand:
"Since 1967, the International System of Units has defined the second as the duration of 9,192,631,770 cycles of radiation corresponding to the transition between two energy levels of the ground state of the caesium-133 atom. This definition makes the caesium oscillator (often called an atomic clock) the primary standard for time and frequency measurements."
Thank you Wikipedia.

Evidently, we cannot trust our second as a division of day, as the earth's day isn't quite the same. At some points in the trek around the sun, we spin faster or slower. Who knew?

Seeing the history of the hour, I realize how arbitrary my watch is. A part of me longs to return to the time we woke when the sun rose and retired as it set. Hard for many to understand me saying that, with my history of all-night parties, I know. But noon should be when the sun is highest. Sunrise should start the day. Why complain about the change in time from day light savings? The sun still comes up regardless of whether we call it 6 am or 7.

Not that I believe we could run our nuclear lives on solar settings.

Garden Update

2009-06-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

Last week I harvested the collard greens and realized that I have reaped all the quick growing plants. Now I have to wait until the tomatoes, corn, peppers, cucumbers, cauliflower, broccolli and zucchini flower and bear fruit. That is going to take a while. My Farm Fresh To You newsletter noted that they are having great success with their tomatoes this season. That each week they grow another 10 inches or so. Soon though, the plants will stop their skyward trek and funnel their energy into making their red bounty. I cannot wait!

Until then, I'm doing daily caterpillar checks and giving some extra water to the relocated cucumber & zucchini. I took time this afternoon to dig my hands into the worm farm. I tried my best to harvest a bit of the poop - got about 2 cups worth. I mixed that with the organic soil and filled up the little containers I bought the other plants in. Into them I mixed seeds for arugula, onion and beets. Tuesday, after work, I hope to drop by the Plant Mart at the junction of 101 & 280 and get more seeds. I need leeks, green beans and potatoes. I may have to order the potatoes online.

The garden grows abundantly. It feels like god is smiling on my veggie patch.

Utterly Fantastic

2009-06-03T06:08:00.000-07:00

Mark Moford's column today - totally fantastic and not just because I can say that I know the guy. I'd like to say he's a friend, but with public figures who are smart and nice - I'm not sure that his willingness to talk to me at parties and return my emails qualifies as friendship. If I keep stalking him at his yoga class, maybe that will help - or just create a fun plot line for a cringe sit-com.

Art Jazz Lit Obama

The Very Hungry Caterpillar

2009-06-03T05:43:00.000-07:00

As so many children, I've read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. The story of the little guy green, mulit-footed critter who eats and eats and eats. I thought it was just a quaint tale to tell the little ones so that if they found a caterpillar in the garden, they'd know that the creepy crawly thing would eventually become a butterfly. A story to help train little minds into sympathetic and educated adults I did not realize it was a factual story.

But then, my collard greens were suddenly filled with holes. It was the Pearl Harbor of critter attacks. One day we're playing ball and having a good time, the next we're under fire from little green monsters who eat and eat and eat! My response was worth of a hunt the monster video game - picking off caterpillars of all sizes and dropping them into soapy water. But then I felt bad - killing the unlucky loopers (the ones I have are called, Green Loopers). So then I took to launching them into bushes that have leaves I was not inclined to eat and I felt marginally better.

Not only were they eating my collard greens, broccoli leaves and cauliflower leaves, they were eating my ego too. All while I was in England, there was a bit of gnawing away at my brain. Before leaving, I asked one of the nice people doing dog sitting shifts (we had three lovely ladies help us out -more on that later) to check my plants for caterpillars. I do think I'm strange - asking someone to go on a caterpillar hunt.

My only solace came from Tiger the cat. As she favors the silver moth as a toy. I realized this was one giant cycle. The moth lays its eggs on my plants, my plants serve as host to their babies and then my cat toys and kills the adults (too bad not before they lay their eggs). Mother Nature has such a sadistic streak in her!

Yesterday, I couldn't take it any longer. I harvested the Collard Greens. They got cooked in garlic, olive oil and lemon. Since they came from my veggie plot, they tasted better. However, I did have to wash them twice and do an extra find check to see that the little green guys weren't hitching a ride into the cauldron of boiling water that I put the leaves in. I let Marc know that I could say, with 95% confidence, that his dinner was caterpillar free. Good thing Tiger doesn't have to make that statement.

Time to go and do my morning sweep for Caterpillars to prevent them eating their way into the heads of cauliflower.

Dude, that doesn't make sense....

2009-05-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

So, it appears the California Supreme Court does agree that we can vote out the rights of our citizens by a simple majority - what we did when we approved Prop. 8 - yet the marriages that happened are still valid. How does that make sense?

I hope we're able to get a measure on the next ballot to revise our constitution and remove the shameful Prop.8. Maybe we can also get a measure on the ballot to remove the right to vote for old white people? Wouldn't that be classed as a simple revision/clarification of the constitution? If the justices lost suffrage with a simple 50% + 1 vote, do you think they'd see that removing the right to marry by the same method should also be wrong?

In the end, I'm tickled that my friends Mike & Ken are still married. Someday we'll get society to catch up.

England

2009-05-24T05:44:00.001-07:00

Marc & I arrive at Heathrow a bit early yesterday. But our 10:30 AM arrival didn't do us much good. His father had to battle 2 hours of traffic to get across London to get us. We're here for Linda, Marc's step-mother, Linda's funeral. She passed unexpectedly on Monday morning. We are all sad for her untimely departure.

After the rough ride through the city, Marc's father decided we would take the Northern route of the M25 around to his house in Rainham, on the East side of London. Not the best choice. We had a four hour journey which did include several country roads and a short pause to divest our bladders of their contents as well as refuel with a round of battered sausages & chips. Yes, I commenced my first day in England, in a similar way to my departure - sans-a-veggies. We had kabob for dinner, I'm not sure the shredded lettuce and bits of onion would be a very scant single serving of vegetable. All yummy and I do fear I'll need to shop for larger pants before my departure in 10 days.

As we were walking through Heathrow, down the long halls on our way to Immigration & Customs (where I did confuse the poor Immigration Officer by pointing out my British traveling companion who was already in England, technically) I had a David Sedaris moment. Marc lamented that he had forgotten his allergy medication. My response, "I'm sure you could get some from a local chemist." Boy did I feel smart - using Chemist instead of Pharmacy... look at me, picking up the local lingo! And then I was thinking of how Sedaris would smartly describe my pretensions and pride, right before skewering me or having some dark twist.

My focus on word springs from the book I'm reading, well listening to, The Woman in White and find it mesmerizing. Set in England in the mid 1800's, the characters are all so bright and fun. Probably people didn't really speak in such a vivid and luscious way, yet I do enjoy thinking they did and morning our current minimalist mode of communication. But I do find it plausible, as I'm provoked into hard listening here with the British form of phrasing not matching up with my Hollywood English ear. Between the locals, my novel and Angel Sedaris on my shoulder am dizzy with words. I hope I don't get pretensions in my speaking or blogging - maybe that's where my Sedaris angel comes in. He'll nudge me whenever I try to use the British tongue, as I am bound for failure as so many American women do in their attempt to wear the Parisian beret.

On a side note - Mom, please email me. I can't find your address.

Positivity

2009-05-21T11:41:00.000-07:00

I was reading NPR's article on Positive Thoughts and found this quote so amusing:
"Physicists are very clear that the relationship is purely correlational and not causal," Sloan says. "There is nothing causal about quantum entanglement. It's good to be open-minded, but not so open-minded that your brains fall out."

So the garden goes very well. I did some early harvesting and served up lettuce to my mother, brother, boyfriend and sister-in-law. Then I went out two days ago and found that my collard greens were getting enjoyed by someone other than me! Little green caterpillars were having a field day on my broccoli, cauliflower and collard greens. Those little tyrants!!

Marc has been a hero getting the drip watering system hooked up. We are traveling back to England under unfortunate circumstances tomorrow and I am so thankful that he took the time to get the watering system fixed so that I wouldn't have to burden out house sitters with the task of watering my veggies. I did ask a friend to care for our house. He thought it would be just Tsui and said he'd consider, but no... I informed him that we have 3 dogs, 1 cat, a tank of fish, a worm farm and a veggie plot that all needs some attention.

The last three days I spent in my company's class learning the inner workings of our email product. The class was very useful and I was the star student the first two days - even doing a demo of the Encryption product for the class. However, the 3rd day we got involved in LDAP routing. It was on the very edge of my technical understanding.

At times I felt like I was having a elephant described to me with out having ever seen one. How do you describe a trunk? The wrinkly skin? They gray color, the tree trunk like legs and ball of a body? So was LDAP routing, domain profiles, SMTP and the other tid bits. I'm happy that I now, can confidently say, "My product can integrate with multiple LDAP servers and do group look ups and routing" I won't add that I wasn't quite able to configure it. I did follow the instructions well enough - however, I wasn't totally sure of what I did. But the mail arrived in the correct inbox with the correct addressing.

That's it for today. I hope things calm down enough that I can go back to my essay format. I'm not sure all my readers enjoy the recent stream of consciousness method.

Caught Up

2009-05-15T15:39:00.000-07:00

For the first time in months, I feel caught up. I have no pressing tasks. I don't even have any food in the fridge that needs to be chopped, melted, seared or fermented. All my finances are in order, well, almost in order. I have no trips to pack for. There is some work I could do, but I'm in sales - there is ALWAYS some work I could do.

I guess I do need to go get my mother a mother's day gift, yes, I'm a week late on that. I love how Marc sends his parents cards for the American Mothers & Fathers Days as he cannot recall when the British ones are.

My work responsibilities have shifted slightly and I now drive to Los Gatos every other week. The last few weeks the windmills have been turning. Their arms move so silently and gracefully and watching them brings me a sense of peace, until I have to swerve to stay on the road. I don't know if any other form of energy harvesting feels so tranquil.

This weekend we have only 12 miles to run and we are debating if we want to run Saturday morning before visiting my mother - which will reduce our energy level or on Sunday, when we'll could be tired from Saturday. Either way, I want to do a road run and know that we'll need to be out by 6:30 - the sun heats things up by 9:30 AM.

It all should be fun and I hope to have some interesting things to report on. Have a great weekend.

Justices

2009-05-11T22:07:00.000-07:00

So, the hunt is on for a new Supreme Court nomination. I've been ignoring much of the hubbub around it. Until there are names out there I can't muster much energy.

However I have read some of opinions in print. What I'm seeing is everyone defending their particular minority. I cannot deny that I'm not part of that. I feel very strongly that the nomination should be a woman - and a young minority woman at that. I came to this conclusion when reading an opinion penned by a man - an older man. This assumption comes from his lament about the older white male justices who were going to be looked over due to the need to have a younger, liberal judge of some sort of minority.

What I found so amazing with some of these opinions was that there seemed to be an assumption that the best candidates were white & male and that there really was a best candidate. I do not accept either idea. I believe we have a pool of intelligent, liberal, rational, young and Constitutionally well versed scholars/judges that would make exceptional supreme court justices. Some of our current jurors, specifically Scalia & Thomas, do little to hold up the bar for rational or intelligent. So, from this pool of candidates, I cannot fathom that it would be devoid of women or minorities.

I firmly believe that race & gender should come into play for the current open seat. White males make up a small minority of this country, yet the majority of seats on the supreme court. I feel that not having a make-up of the court closer to our population disenfranchises our people. All that to say, I have faith that Obama will do the right thing and that he will nominate a good candidate. I wonder if his wife would consider the job.

Happiness!

2009-05-11T21:24:00.000-07:00

Happiness comes in a very small package. Tsunami has a near 100% success rate at making me smile. Her little smallness that hops around and asks for love and fun. After 3 months of living with Marc & his pack, she's really been loosening up. Today her mission was to take out Tiger the cat. It was like watching a 6th grade bully trying to get the attention of the teacher's pet. Tsui would attack and nip and Tiger would pretend not to like it, but at no time did Tiger fight back or try to get away. So coy.

On other fronts, the broccoli has started growing. The heads are about the size of a jaw breaker from one of those coin machines we used to find in Safeways and Longs. I find it amazing how easy this garden thing has been. I put the dirt in the box, added the baby plants and then they grow and start to bear fruit. So simple.

The last bit of exciting news... Marc & I finally purchased the tickets. We're going to Peru. The deposit has been paid, the plane tickets purchased and now we've just got to get the shots and oh dear. I just realized I put the tickets in my last name and my passport is in my formerly married name. Nothing like that for motivation to get that last document changed into my name. Damn.

Successes

2009-05-08T06:26:00.000-07:00

This morning I'm getting my fix of Mark Morford and this line catches my eye:
"Aren't we all merely a collection of assorted, slapdash decisions disguised as thoughtfulness? Aren't we made up of various projections and patterns and expectations, a toss of the DNA dice onto the cosmic craps table run by drunken angels? I'm going with 'yes.'"

I've had this post rattling around in my head for a few days. Things I've seen or enjoyed that have been total successes. What better way to start off the topic than with an amazing column by Mark Morford.

The worms are a HUGE success! I'm so proud of them, of me, of nature. I had tried my hardest to leave the little guys alone - to let them do their eating thing and not be that pesky waiter who think that a check-in every 5 minutes will assure a good tip. No, they had nearly 10 days to eat through the massive amount of food and bedding and such. And they were great - they nearly licked their plates!! I opened up the worm hotel, which, due to the trays and layers, more resembles a hotel and found healthy, happy worms on each floor, chowing down. They clearly had eaten their fill, yet there was place for a lot more.

I harvested only about 1/2 a cup; mixed in the new food and then packed it all down to the first two trays. I could just kiss them. They are doing me proud!

The next success - the rose bushes in my neighborhood. I've been doing my best to get the four legged crew out for their daily constitutionals (it amuses me to no end to call a walk a "constitutional", so dignified!). While out enjoying the 'hood, I've found that they have put the local rose bushes on steroids. Most of the shrubs have gone aggro with flowers. Some teem with white blooms that they, themselves are nearly 100% white. The green leaves can barely poke through the explosion of white flowers. Then, on Neroly, the red bushes abound. I don't recall ever having seen such ambitious rose bushes!

The last success would have to go to Dania for a lovely dinner last night. Cousin Dania & her husband Chris opened the BBQ season with grilled corn, pineapple & sausage. The meal included super conversation and some amazing cookies. Thank you!

Possible Future Successes:
With the introduction of Dale Carnegie into the Cohen-DeLano household, I have decided to try to implement 1 idea a week for the next 5 weeks. This week is "Live in Day-tight Compartments" - so no ruminating over things one wish to have or not have said. Next week we have "No Judgment" week where I let the divine to all the judging and keep those opinionated thoughts out of my head. The week after, much to Marc's enjoyment I'm sure, I'll have "No Complaints" week. I really shouldn't tell him, I have a suspicion that he might do his best to provide me with thing to complain about just to test my will. What doesn't kill me will make me stronger as well as very annoyed.

Traumatic Situations

2009-04-30T14:55:00.000-07:00

I was just taking a peek at the news and came across this:
http://www.cnn.com/2009/HEALTH/04/30/galanos.plan.b/index.html?eref=rss_topstories

An News Host talking about "The Morning After Pill" - you know, the one that is equivalent to taking something like 8 birth control pills. The one that puts a hiccup in a girls ovulation cycle - changing the mucus on the cervix to not allow sperm to pass, delaying ovulation and/or making the uterus inhospitable to a fertilized egg. The pill that doesn't make a girl feel very good (I know, I've taken it), but neither does the stress of knowing that the fun sex last night might last in an 18 year hang-over and OMG, I really would rather not deal with pregnancy right now.

His words, "Think of a 17-year-old girl. Most of the time she's a high school senior, still living at home with Mom and Dad. She still needs her parents in the tough times. But they will be cut out of a traumatic situation."

She's 17 - do you think she asked Mom & Dad if it was OK to have sex in the first place? Why penalize the girls who are responsible enough to try to prevent pregnancy the next day by preventing them from getting the meds, or having them have to ask an adult.

I just laugh at the idea that "traumatic situation". She's not pregnant, just trying to prevent it becoming pregnant.

Here's another whopper, "Does it really take that long to get a prescription?" Yeah... getting a prescription at 8 AM on a Sunday - no problem!

I don't know what magical medical system he belongs to. As for me and my nearly all inclusive, upper-middle-class PPO option, I still can't get a prescription on a weekday except during a 7 hour window that usefully corresponds to the hours I work and I have to leave work to get a doctor's visit in before they hand me that little piece of paper. I don't even want to imagine trying to get anything on a weekend - it would involve hours of waiting at the ER or an urgent care clinic. And this 17 year old girl is supposed to know and navigate this system on a Sunday morning - is he going to sell us a bridge?!?

But wait, there's more, "The boyfriend will talk his girlfriend into unprotected sex with the promise of buying the "morning after pill" the next day."
Since teenage girls have NO sex drive of their own. They must be talked into sex. They are the responsible ones. BULL-HOOEY! Maybe he's trying to raise his girls to think sex is bad, shameful and should only be done for procreation. Poor things.

I'm getting angry... must go buy milk to make yogurt.

Going Nomad

2009-04-27T19:44:00.000-07:00

In the same week, in two vastly different books, the topic of human tribes arose. Aside from some shows on the Travel Channel or National Geographic, I had believed that tribal consciousness didn't come into play in my life. Hubris, I realized after some reflection. And the question started:

What tribes did I identify with?
Where do my values come from?
What have I done to signify my belonging

I think back to high school or college; didn't we all just play those roles daily? Then the family - from my divorced & divided family - what the entire clan valued and then the differences in each family unit. While living in Los Angeles, I lived near the Hasidic Jews. Their clan was clearly marked through the curls the men wore, the covered hair and long sleeves on the women. I didn't know what their values were, aside from strong external signs that delineated their belonging.

The questions kept coming.

Why do we stay?
Why do we leave?
What happens when we leave our tribe.
What happens when we stop believing in the magic of our tribe.

Initially I thought that due to my expose to a wide variety of cultures, I found tribal bonds restrictive and ultimately meaningless to me. What one tribe says is good could be taboo in another - so much fuss over something basically meaningless.

But then after I took out my bellybutton ring, I realized those ties run much deeper than I had realized. I've had that hunk of metal in my navel for 16 years. I didn't realize how tied to it I had become. Something clicked today - I didn't feel like I needed it any longer. It was a marking that I was alternative. I looked at it and felt the ties to my raving day, to burningman, to all the odd things I've done. But I'm not doing those things now; I don't see a space for them in my future so I felt it was not my marking any longer. I didn't think it was a big deal. Yet ever since I took it out, I've been in a bit of a daze.

Hilary and I got our navels pierced in a bonding endeavor just before going home on break during our first year of college. I recall my mother's horror and dismay when I showed her my stomach. I had left my family tribe and declared my allegiance to the young, alternative and wild. I still recall when Hilary told me she had taken hers out years ago. I felt sad and a bit violated. She had walked away from our ties. Our doing it together in the basement of some lesbian in Northampton had meant a lot to me, was It no longer meaningful for her?

I thought all that had faded. I didn't think I needed that badge any longer. I'm not part of the uber-hip tribe any longer. I don't go to raves, push fashion boundaries or live on the edge in any way. I grow veggies, compost with worms and culture my own yogurt. It seemed right that I leave behind that symbol. My life orbits different values now. I have no interest in raves and can barely tolerate bars now a days.

Taking it out and looking at my stomach, I felt as if I was looking at my body for the first time in years. I could see the contours of my abdomen in a different way; the sparkle of the metal didn't distract from my flesh. I was unadorned, truly naked. Washing in the shower, my hand didn't knock against anything, instead it slide on past my bellybutton without a notice.

The connection to the tribe goes deeper than I believed. I spent the afternoon reflecting on what I had done. I realized I was taking off the symbols of my former tribe. I had been leaving slowly for the last few years. Yet I didn't join a new tribe. I have no strong identification with any group or demographic. I'm an occasional social element in a dozen different groups. I don't identify with mothers or young professionals. I'm not tied into a sports activity or team. I try to connect with my family, yet with my cousins grown and brothers married, family feels more like a diasporia than a clan. I'm barely more than an acquaintance with anyone at work. I come and go. Partly I realized my wounds from breaking tribal taboos still smart and I avoid initiating myself into any tribe as a preventative measure. Partly, I don't see any tribe that encompasses me entirely - I distrust all group think.

I once believed that we had evolved with our Science. That we were beyond the ancient, as we now toy with space travel, nanotechnologies and the sublime Martini. Yet today I deeply realized how tied we are to our culture. My inner-self craves a marking of this passage. I don't know how to acknowledgment that I've moved on.

Farmer Jen is Looking for Adventure

2009-04-23T07:14:00.001-07:00

Thanks to Mom for posting a note! I never knew why we stopped growing tomatoes. I thought it was due to my eating them all, but no, she grew her best crop ever and was done.

I'm not there yet. I have my little plants all tucked into their bed. We've been careful to make sure they don't fry in this week's heat wave. I hear it is supposed to be back to down to 75 today. 95 or 100 was a bit much! But all the little guys look fine. So, I keep going out side and thinking, "Now What?". There's no weeding to do. It is too early to start the seedlings for the mid-summer crop - I think there will be onions, beets, more tomatoes and beans in that round. I will have to check my gardening book to see what I might be doing now. Last night I dreamt of beans, polls and wire. I think deep down I want to grow beans.

On the yogurt front, this last batch I made wasn't right. But I was pressed for time, so didn't try to re-culture it. The taste had a strong tangy, and it did not firm up at all. I put it all into containers and just decided to deal with it later. 3 days later and the containers haven't solidified. I've been feeding it to myself & the hounds - with Austin, aka Mr. Picky, eating the stuff up happily. This morning I realized that accidentally made buttermilk! From yogurt to buttermilk, a new adventure!

The Veggies Go In

2009-04-20T21:22:00.000-07:00

After work today Tsui and I went to Flowercraft and invested another $100 in the vegetable plot. Tsui was no more amused at being carried through the plant store than the helper folk who were clearly giving me the, "Does she really think she's Paris Hilton?" looks. But I didn't care... tittering around in 3" heels, dress pants, blouse, Tsui in my right arm, the list of plants to get in the other.

They were low on veggies. There weren't any of the onion family represented - so I don't have the garlic, onion, leek & shallot section. Instead I over bought - getting yellow & white corn, 5 types of tomatoes, 4 bell peppers, 2 zucchini, 2 types of cucumber, lettuce, collard greens, 1 watermelon, the last strawberry plant, broccoli & cauliflower. Some might say I over-planted my little 4 x 8 foot plot. I say I'm optimistic.

I enjoyed taking each plant out of its little container, breaking up the roots so they'd quickly & easily take over the garden, placing it in its little hole and then tapping the dirt all around it. I didn't enjoy that the last bit of soil I added was laden with wood remains, so I'm getting splinters in my hands and know that I'm going to have to move to gloved gardening. However that will help my nails, as they are not enjoying all the dirt contact.

Marc did the honors of watering the little plantlings. He got home as I was planting the last few green babies. I am dreading the day when I have to rip out the remains of the plants to make space for new ones. But they all got tucked in and I'm hoping they'll all be there when I check on them tomorrow morning.

More updates to come... that is if you tune back in. Was my life more interesting when my favorite band was My Life With The Thrill Kill Cult? Hope my blog doesn't replace Ambien in your life. Is reading about corn growing as exciting as watching paint dry? You'll have to come back to find out.

Jenny, Jenny Quite Contrary

2009-04-19T16:23:00.000-07:00

How does your garden grow?

When I first came over to Marc's house, I admired the backyard. I asked that we enjoy drinks on the patio while the lamb roast he was making cooked. He obliged.

Then, when we started talking about moving in, I asked if I could have a vegetable garden. He said yes. I didn't want to push the issue, it would mean that I would tear out a section of the lawn for my pet project of growing veggies. So I just let it sit for a bit.

Then I moved in and we started talking serious. I asked again about the garden and he said yes again. Then I took a Sunday afternoon to dig up the grass and flip it, just like the book on growing a garden suggested. While I was digging, he brought me a glass of water. Then I realized he was very serious about me and totally indulgent.

Two weeks ago we went out and got the lumber and supplies. it then rained for most of the week. The next weekend Marc & I built the frame for the raised bed. I still need to paint it and then put in the outside brackets. On Easter I got 6 cubic feet of organic soil. I went back later that week - after swapping out Oola for Tilly, who can carry more. Friday I started to mix the soil with the soil booster. I filled up the box and on Saturday realized I needed more soil. Today we got another 9 cubic feet - in all, we have nearly 30 cubic ft of soil in my little plot.

Never did I think I would want to grow veggies. This all came about a year ago when I had that odd anxiety about the environment. When I got the composter and decided I needed to do more. As a girl, my mom had a veggie plot. The tomatoes never made it to the table, as I would harvest them straight into my mouth on summer afternoons. She stopped towards the end of my time in elementary school, I should ask why.

And now, suddenly, I have the urge to grow veggies myself. I get a box of organic fruit & veg every week and yet, I want more. I keep thinking about it and can't find a reason. I've spent $300 on wood and dirt and I haven't even purchased the seeds or plantlings I need to make the garden more than dirt. So, we'll estimate I've got another $100 to spend. $400 in all - this is not a plan to save me any money.

Friday, as I mixed the soil, I just felt content. I'd pour 1/2 a bag of organic booster #1, 1/2 a bag of organic booster #2 and 1 bag of top soil. Down and around I'd plunge my hands, ruining last week's manicure, catching splinters and doing my best to mix the dirts together, then dumping them into the raised bed. Over & over, I sweat and stank and needed a good scrubbing when I was done.

In all, I felt connected. I felt productive. Putting in the garden might be expensive and I'm not sure if I'll save any money in the long run, yet I'll be tied to my plants and the earth. Each day I can see what I've helped created. I can eat my efforts and then I can cut up the left-overs and feed them to my worms who will help me nourish my garden in the coming weeks.

Surprise?

2009-04-16T09:28:00.001-07:00

Am I not the only one who found this:
US Discovers Violations in Surveillance Program
Surprising?
Really - did any of us expect that the NSA would follow guidelines? I'm sure they were doing a range of things - from listening to their former girlfriends/wives conversations to, the well documented, spying on a Congressman making a trip to the Middle East.
Didn't they just hook up their hose to AT&T and try to trap a copy. The sheer volume of data makes the computing power they'd need to sort/pull/find specific bits of data mind-boggling - and yet them seem to have managed to do it. Impressive & terrible all at once. Can't we put this nonsense to a stop?

Pirates - not the Johnny Depp type

2009-04-15T10:13:00.000-07:00

I just read the following:
In all, Somali pirates are holding over 280 sailors on 15 ships — at least 76 of those sailors captured in the last few days. Pirates have attacked 79 ships this year and hijacked 19 of them, according to the International Maritime Bureau, a piracy watchdog.

How shocking is that? The Pirates are extra pissed about some of them getting killed in that last rescue/raid. But really, if one is a pirate and hijacking vessels, why would one expect to NOT be killed in the line of duty?

They seem to be targeting the aid ships going to feed the poor & suffering in Somalia. They are trying to steal from their brothers. The can get $1 Million in extortion for the ship.

I thought we were beyond this - fascinating to find we are not.

Significance

2009-04-14T06:15:00.000-07:00

How much meaning does one's car have?
When I was 16 my mother totally indulged me and let me have a Jeep Wrangler. The car rode rough, inhibited nearly all conversation when going above 45 mph and I loved it to death. I enjoyed it for the toy it was. It didn't have air-conditioning, the windows zipped open and I could pull the key out of the ingnition while the car was running. I felt young, energetic and fun when I drove it.
Then I got the Jetta, as I wanted to have a more sophisticated car. And it did serve me well - 4 doors, pretty good gas mileage. I switched out the cassette player for a CD player. I had 2 break-ins in the 8 years I had the car. We enjoyed some great road trips togehter - SF/LA, Texas, Oregon, Nevada and many trips to the Eastern Sierras as well as Tahoe. It was still going strong at 250k miles. How I felt driving my car changed. When I first got it, I felt sharp and zippy. As we aged, I felt like it was a little lack-luster and I still loved her - I had named her Pris.
All at once, the jetta got broken into, needed her 3rd clutch and broke the 250k mark. I knew I needed a new car. So, Greg helped me search & search and we found something special - a 2 seater Mercedes SLK32. It was suped-up with the AMG construction. It was fast and so impressive. Driving up in that, especially with the top down, turned heads. It screamed, "I have money!" or "I'm HOT!" With the top down, I got to enjoy the sun on my face - sun roofs just don't cut it. I named her Oola, after the character in The Producers, as she was fun & pretty and otherwise useless.
Do I drive the car or does the car dive me?
There was such a great feeling of driving up to my high school boyfriend's house in Oola, he and his dad were impressed - my car outclassed both of theirs. I enjoyed that - but really, that is so shallow! And how sad that the car impressed them - shouldn't I be the one impressing them?
Didn't Socrates struggle with this - is it the Man or is it the Toga? Anyway, I don't want to be in my car's shadow.
Marc & I traded in Oola yesterday. We got a cute little JCW Mini Clubman. It is Pepper White with the Silver roof and has all the bells & whistles. He loves how it drives. I love that I can plug in my iPod, navigate with traffic information (but I haven't figure out how to turn this off yet, making it super annoying), make/answer calls on the car speaker phone via bluetooth, enjoy satellite radio (did you know there is a Playboy Radio Station? I nearly crashed while listening to instructions on how to masturbate!). And then the best part - I can fit the entire dog pack in the car! We can take trips together - Oola would only transport one dog at a time.
So, is the mini upstaging me? Is it undermining me? My car should be a manifestation of my values and match my goals. I value fuel economy, my dogs and fun. The new car, I think I'll call her Tilly (short for Matilda and said with a hint of British accent), gets me closer to living my values. On it's third outing, it transported the worms for my new worm farm composter.

Yogurt Divine

2009-04-09T13:42:00.001-07:00

I'm sure you've been on the edge of your aereon chair waiting to hear how yogurt attempt #3 went. And I am very happy to report that it was off the charts. I used fancy-pants, pasteurized, but not homogenized milk that came from local cows, fed organically and given weekly massages and baths. Maybe not the 2nd part, but happy cows who roam about merrily chewing grass and watching the world go by.

I did more checking on temperature this time - adding fresh yorgormet starter when the milk was between 108 & 112 degrees. I let it sit, then tossed it in a strainer that I had lined with a clean thin dish towel. The yogurt was a little lumpy, however it was rich & tangy and thick. I regret making it with 2%, as that it too much fat for my weight-watchers self... so I'm off to trade in the glass bottle the 2% came in for a full bottle of fat-free milk with which to make another batch tonight.

As for the worm farm, I have yet to get the worms. More on that later.

Composting Revised

2009-04-06T11:24:00.000-07:00

I had an exciting Birthday filled with fun.
Marc got me motorcycling lessons and then let me ride his Harley. Which was fun, until I got to the end of the block and dropped it. This must be love - he was actually more worried about me than the bike! Not only that, but he sent me out on it again the next day. I did better then. It is MUCH heavier than the scooter I had and, likewise, much harder to handle when going slow or stopped.

Then Marc & I enjoyed dinner at Jardinere on Monday night. Which was good, but Marc didn't much care for the flight of Grappa I insisted on enjoyed after dinner. He let me enjoy it all... I guess that is a blessing in disguise.

Tuesday - the actual birthday - I had lunch with my mom & brother. Warren discussed how much of a disaster the current state of real estate is and how close he is to the poor house while heckling me for considering myself environmentally friendly just because I compost & make my own yogurt. My mother and I recollected about a lovely trip we had to Louisiana 21 years ago for my 13th birthday. Much fun.

On the other hand, Marc did encourage my environmental ambitions - he got me a worm composter! After you, kind readers, have endured my trials with the NatureMill, we're starting in on a worm farm. Should be fun! I have assembled the housing and am amassing the scraps needed. Last night's dinner helped a lot in that regard - I had Dad, Cathy, little brother and sister-in-law over.

The highlight, aside from the company of course, was the fantastic black bottom cupcakes. So good! We had the a la mode, in honor of late Grandfather Jim. And I had a card addressed to, "Jennifer Mercy DeLano, Jr" Not sure about that last bit... need to ask Dad about it.

But BCD was super generous with a gift of a circular saw - this is to assist my vegetable garden ambitions. He also promised 1 day of home improvement labor.... should be fun. I'd love to have him & Kate out again. Earlier yesterday, Marc & I got the lumbar and hardware needed to make a veggie plot. On Saturday I dug up the sod and flipped it over, per the instructions in my garden book. This weekend we'll build the frame and then I hope start to fill in the bit with top soil. Then I'll need to pick the beggies - I also need to get the worms for my worm compost house. Should be fun. I never thought I'd enjoy such mundane & wholesome activities!

In all, quite a happy way to start the next trip around the sun.

Dear Diary

2009-04-06T08:53:00.000-07:00

Dear Diary,

Today Marc let me ride his Harley. I went around the block, around the other block. Up one street and down the other. In all, I did about 7 miles and got up to 45 miles per hour. I was able to avoid dropping the bike and didn't terrorize the local skater punks too much.

The oddest thing happened. I felt some odd itchy down-under. When I later checked, I realized that I was starting to grow a set of balls. I'm not sure if all Harleys do that or just the Road King.

I'm not sure if I want to keep riding or not now.

That's all for today.

Jen

Yogurt & Stories

2009-03-31T08:56:00.000-07:00

While in Washington, DC last week, my coworker mentioned that making yogurt was really easy. So I found a recipe online - from a woman who used her crockpot every day for a year. She had a very simple way to make yogurt in your crock pot: put in the milk, heat for 2.5 hours, unplug crock pot let cool for 3 hours, add yogurt to milk, wrap crock pot with towel for insulation and let sit for 8 hours.
It really is that easy. I tried with whole milk - it said that would be easier. And it worked really really well. Now I have two tupperware tubs of yogurt ready for dog feedings. I think tried it with non-fat yogurt, for me. I added some gelatin with the yogurt, as suggested, but it didn't come out as well as well as hoped. It was runny and not as tangy as desired.
I found this online:
http://www.epinions.com/reviews/Donvier_Yogurt_Cheese_Maker
A yogurt sieve. I may have to try it. While I don't really resent buying yogurt, I dislike throwing away a plastic container every few days. As a result, I'm now going to make my own! I am excited.

With this victory comes the celebration of my birthday (today). I'm happy to be turning 34. My mother once told me I was more agreeable when in an even year - we'll see. But with my happy day is some sadness. My good friend's brother is in the final stages of with terrible cancer. I'm sad for him. I'm sad for my friend. It leaves me feeling so helpless. I did find my friend on IM and was amusing him with silly thoughts & ideas. I felt like I was cheering him up - I think that is all I can do.

I read this:
http://www.salon.com/opinion/keillor/2009/03/04/brothers/
Garrison Keillor's essay on losing his brother. He writes with such clarity. I want to share with my friend, but his brother isn't dead yet. It might be pre-mature.

Dreams Come True Even on Morning Runs

2009-03-25T05:44:00.000-07:00

This morning I jogged down to the mall, past all the museums, to the capital, right as the sun was fighting up over the dome, back down the mall, around the tidal pool, waved at the Jefferson Memorial, was almost lonely as I passed the FDR monument, trekked cross country to the reflecting pool, looked right to see the sun, the Washington Monument and the Capital Dome gleam, then paid my respects to Lincoln, jugged back up the reflecting pool to the WWII monument and thought, you know, we’re running out of space for monuments, we might want to hold off on any more wars for a few decades, then tried to jog up and around the White House, but found it was barricaded & protected in such a way that I wondered what sort of statement it makes for children & foreign visitors to see, so up 15^th St and then back to the hotel.

I have dreamt of seeing the Capital with the cherry trees in bloom. They are primed and ready. A few trees have popped early, erupting in white – when I do this jog again in Friday morning, I hope more have opened up their flowers. I feel so blessed.

Washington Wonders

2009-03-24T12:18:00.000-07:00

I definitely get star-stuck. Not by celebrities (who cares about Brad Pitt's thoughts on Fathering or Nichole Richie's lastest blunder) but by places. For me, few places have the dazzle of Washington, DC.

Last night, driving into the city, with the lit-up monuments and glorious buildings that house our government, I find it overwhelming. This building, here, shelters the Congress while they debate and make deals. Over here the world impacting monetary policy gets decided.

Funny - I didn't have this same "oh my god!" feeling while walking around London. Not sure why. I did get to go into Parliament once. Back when I was 17, my mother and I were ogling the building and the nice guard told us we could go in and watch the meeting of the House of Lords. What fun! They heckled each other! Boo's rang out during while a well dressed man orated.

But there wasn't the same aura. London had a different glow. The "oh my god! I'm in London" feels different than, "oh my god! there is Obama's house!". The Awe tilted towards the strangeness and far away.

Some of it must come from the icons. The Washington Odalisque honors my 1st president. Trafalgar's column - um, Trafalgar - he lead the Navy, right? It is as if we both like the same sport, yet cheer different players.

I hope to eke out a few hours when I can see a sight or two.

The Green Paint is Greener on the other Side

2009-03-20T09:43:00.000-07:00

So last week Marc took me on a quick run through of the model homes built & decorated to sell the homes in our little complex. They have 4 floor models with all the bells, whistles and features. It was wild to see them. The one of our house was a mirror image, which made it familiar and not at the same time.

What I came away with was the desire for $20k of upgrades. I almost wish I hadn't gone in, as I was very content with our house. We have been nesting and getting things just so, but then I see what professionals can do with triple our budget and I'm now sad.

Some things I didn't like, as they were just over the top a faux flag/brick wall in the family room? why? And some of the fixtures screamed, "I have no taste, just some extra cash to burn!" But then there were small things that did work. Mostly these had to do with furniture - not the look of the pieces, but the size & placement of them. The colors and details of the wall finishing and how the colors echoed in the pillows to make a very cohesive look. I was wrap!

I also saw how themes could take shape and be echoed about. One theme I want, and I have a feeling my civilized British-mate will not appreciate is my enjoyment of the West & Dessert. Like worn wood, polished smooth with age, bleached in the sun. Colors that give the feel of desert rocks, sky & vegetation. Yes, I wouldn't mind a cow hide on the plank wood floor; Sedona & Santa Fe without the Cowboys, Indians or knotty pine. I Hate knotty pine. Rough, smooth & warm.

Not that I would try such a task without a professional. They have a way with things. Little things, like putting a edge-thingy (yes, I know the technical terms) as a band around the room, and at what height and then what to do above & below the band in terms of color & smoothness to make it all work. It amazes me. Marc says it is simple, I'm not convinced.

All that to say, I don't have the time, energy or money to take the house to the next level. I'm stuck now, knowing what our house could be - yet unable to get there. Why are we humans so programmed? Or is it that we've totally hone our marketing skills to the point that executives can just push the average Joe's buttons? I recall my ex-husband having a fear of psychologists, as he thought they could get inside his head. He was right on getting in our head, just wrong about who had the skill to do it.

One Last Strike for the Composter

2009-03-20T09:39:00.000-07:00

So, I decided to give the composter one last go. I put in the bowl full of scraps I had from 2 days of cooking, plugged it in and let her rip.

I came out the next day with a few more things to add and her red light was flashing - Jam. It was late, I was tired and I just unplugged the thing.

I'm dreaming of getting a composter on my way home. Our kitchen produces such a volume of scraps, I feel bad NOT composting. Putting all those things into the grand dumps around my great state.

I just need to shake off my city-girl limitations and go green.

Kindle me Not

2009-03-18T06:04:00.000-07:00

My birthday is in 2 weeks and I'm all atwitter with excitement. In the past I've given my father a present suggestion that I want but wouldn't indulge myself in. This year, I thought it would be the Kindle 2. And then I was discussing it with Marc on our long Sunday walk.

The Kindle 2 looked slick - you can download almost any book in a matter of seconds. Talk about instant gratification. I want, "She was a good reader" on my tombstone. However, I can't really flag pages for future reference. Also, after finishing a book I might want to share with Marc, I'd have to lend him my Kindle. What fun is that? We already struggle over the Nintendo DS, "Where did you put it?" "Are you finished with that Soduko yet?" "I've got the highest score in the 20 math calculations, ha!" Does the Kindle record how long it takes to read a book? That could be trouble for this hyper competitive duo.

Then, even if he were to get a Kindle 2 for himself, that wouldn't solve the problem of sharing a good book - as the books aren't transferable. What happens when the Kindle 3 comes out? Can I transfer all my Kindle 2 books? Probably not. This device is sounding less & less appealing.

On the 1/2 filled shelves of our new bookcases sit books from all parts of my life. A picture book of Italy given to me by my Great-Aunt Zada, edited with postcards she had collected on her trips. Across the room are the Greek Plays next to Herodotus - a book that I occasionally reference. My philosophy shelf houses the Bible, a book on Zen, The Elegant Universe and God's Debris. Even if the Kindle let me create virtual bookshelves, they wouldn't be there to amuse my guests. Nor could it provide me with the small and leather-bound book from 1750 that my Grandmother Polly gave me. I haven't been able to read it, as the S's are sometimes F's as was the printing tradition back then, or was that due to their not having formalized spelling by that time?

I imagine that, one day, I will have to switch over to a new book technology. I don't yet think that the Kindle is it. Instead, I'm asking for a larger, traditional composter - something along the lines of this Wibo - sorry NatureMill. It is made out of recycled plastic - all the better! And then, I'll see if my dad is up for giving me this, I think it is a ready to go garden plot, but I need to go check it out. I'm not sure if dirt is included.

Composter Woes

2009-03-12T07:11:00.000-07:00

I peeked. I opened the composted to check the status of my compost before a full week had gone by. The excitement got to me.

Sunday I took a gander under the lid only to find nothing there. The compost was gone. For a fleeting second I thought that Marc had stolen it as some odd joke, but no. All of the compost, in a nearly undigested state, had been dumped into the "done" tray. How did it come to that conclusion?? In my perplexed state, I contemplated tossing it all back up to the top for another session in the mixing chamber.

Then I spotted the evil white fuzz and knew that I couldn't. The mold had returned. Unfortunate.

Yesterday I buried it. Load #2 of half digested food waste now lays in the back yard. I am beginning to wonder what the archaeologists of 2250 will think of the dirt around the future ruins of our current home. "Strange how this house shows garbage disposal so close to the foundations - totally non-typical for primitives of that era."

I will begin agian this weekend - after a good dosing of 409 tonight.

Road to Bliss

2009-03-11T08:20:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I purchased, "A Brief History of Everything" on CD. I didn't like it. There was an excessive amount of odd jargon used to reinforce an odd construction of how to view the world. With each CD, the little voice in my head kept saying, "You know Jennifer, you don't have to finish every book you start." and I would reply, "Maybe the next CD will be better."

But last night, as I was driving home, the book reached a point where the framework developed meaning. The ideas swam about and one came up to me - that in X & Y Buddhist traditions that the path to enlightenment was just that - a path. The follower never arrives at a destination. The idea I caught next focused on how adherents to some Eastern traditions were required to take an oath where abouts they, as they found enlightenment, did not drift off into the bliss, focusing only on their path. Instead, the practitioners were required to teach and enlighten others so that all humans travel the path to nirvana.

I had put these thoughts away until I picked up little Tsui this morning. After spending a little time trying to face the mess that is my list of renewals for 2009, I decided to get me some dog love to lift the spirits.

Tsunami fits on my chest and she does this thing where she puts her nose down, covers it with a paw and then bursts out, and tries to kiss me - the french kind of kiss. Her attacks come at my mouth with tongue extended. She takes a few stabs at getting me and then ducks down again. I pet and nuzzle and she attacks again.

Everything else in the world vanishes. I'm left with Tsui and love. The future disappears, the past fades. She lives like this all the time. Just in the moment. This moment she sleeps at my feet. The next moment she sits & waits while I make her breakfast. Another moment she's got a leash on and we're out about town. I think she's already on the Zen path and clearly she's helping me along.

Gay Marriage Again

2009-03-06T09:09:00.000-08:00

So, I thought the justices were going to rule on gay marriage yesterday, but they only heard arguments. And from the gloomy news, it sounds like they are going to let that razor thin majority vote hold.

My question to all of us interested in equal rights, for gays, women and minorities - where are we in the initiative process? Please send me a roster for getting signatures to put another measure on the ballot voting to legalize gay marriage. Let's start the campaign now. Let's start raising money. Let's start educating the people. And let's right an initiative that is compelling to centrists, liberals and independent voters.

I think we can do this. I have hope.

Gay Rights Day

2009-03-05T07:20:00.000-08:00

I was reading on the NPR Website about today's decision regarding Gay Marriage. I very much hope that the court agrees that the state should not be able to restrict minority rights with a simple majority.

Reading the article, I was surprised to see this:
"This seems to be an effort to indiscriminately go after anyone who contributed money, regardless of their position on gay issues," says Frank Schubert, spokesman for the Yes on 8 campaign. He says the backlash has endangered individuals who exercised their constitutional right to freedom of religion.

The Supreme Court has effectively said that contributing money to campaigns is similar to free speech. It follows that those who contributed money to the campaign were, effectively exercising their right of free speech and stating that they believe that gay people should have their right to marry removed. I don't know how else to interpret a donation to "Yes on 8" other than as a statement against equal rights for Gay people.

I believe in transparency in campaign financing which was what happened here. The names of the contributors were made public. These people effectively stood up in the town square and stated their opinion on the matter. As a result, those who did not agree with their opinion made their thoughts known. Several people had to resign. This isn't surprising to me. If I were to make racists statements in my blog or on Facebook, I shouldn't be surprised if my employer called me in to HR to address the issue.

And where does religious freedom come into this? Were these people who donated money restricted from worshiping? Where they forced to do something against their beliefs? No, they brought their religion into the public sphere and then complained when others had beef with their actions. Likewise, the pious often have beef with those who wear skimpy clothing in the public sphere as it, while unfortunate choice of attire, is offensive to them.

Where am I going with all this? Not sure. I believe that we all should be held accountable for our actions, be it fashion mistakes or making racists, sexist or anti-gay statements.