Oh em gee. I have been sick for 7 days. That sounds like... a line from an old poem or song or something.
For seven days and seven nights,
I've suffered pain, but fought the fight.
Ok that was lame. I'm SLOWLY getting better, though I have a fever this mornin'. Managed to sleep through the last two nights though; previously I'd been waking up for hours of pain, fever chills, and more pain. I thought my throat was trying to kill me. Now my throat is almost better ( I still sound like a frog) but I've still got something like the worst cold ever. At least I've had an appetite through this whole ordeal (my stomach is currently reminding me). Course, trying to eat is real fun when your nose might as well be stopped with cement. I'm sure you really needed that detail. But I lose my breath just eating 'cause it's so ingrained in me to chew with my mouth closed. Anyhoo!

This morning I was waking up, praising the universe for another full night of sleep, when... Well, think about faces. Not expressions, just the flesh itself. Thin eyelids, soft lips, delicate, sensitive nose. Then think about cat feet. Little toe pads that precede wicked scimitars of death. Now if you were to put the two together, face and cat feet... but wait, let's start at the beginning.



For some reason, it started with a cat in a tree. Little Genevieve has not mastered the art of climbing trees. Strike that. She has not mastered the art of getting down. So I would go to the tree, reach as high as I could on tippity toe, and call to her. She would slowly, slowly inch to my hand, then climb down my arm (good thing it's winter and I wear lots of layers!) to perch on my shoulders.



In fact, I have become such a reliable bridge that I can even be used when hopping from the couch to the counter. I was bending over to scoop some cat food out of the bag when four little paws briefly graced the back of my head.



In fact, I seem to be preferable to even a four foot drop, because I so kindly bend my knees like a good elevator and the shoulder level drops to a convenient 18 inches for kitty to hop off of. Because here Genevieve wasn't stuck, no, not this time. And while I was busy thinking, "ooh photo op", she was thinking, "just a liiiiiiiittle closer...". And then boing onto my shoulder.



Just last night while brushing my teeth, I had bent over to spit, and all of a sudden there was Genevieve on my back, checking out my bathroom nook from her new observatory. Yes, I am ladder, an elevator, an observation deck, and a bridge. But you know what the best thing ever is? I'm also a safe haven. Because this morning, when feline feet met face, not a single claw was out. And they haven't been since that first rescue. So I may be a convenience, but I'm a loved one. Maybe not respected, but definitely loved.

Now if I could just get healthy dag nabbit.... It's perfect spring weather for the next few days and I've got gardens to till and driveway gravel to rake! Cats to serve and birds to feed! Arrrgh!

Carrots!!!

OK I'm way too excited. I will try to type this as coherently as possible. It's the uber excitement. And the insomnia. But where to begin? 'Cause it's kind of a long story, or at least one full of digressions and side tracks. For example, I didn't know I could send pictures from my phone to my computer! Heck, I didn't even know how to access pics on my phone, I barely even knew how to take them. But my borrowed camera, see, does not have a handy dandy nifty shnifty battery pack. It runs on double A's, and it sucks those down fast! So it was dead, and I needed pictures. Thus, the process of evolution. I figured out my phone cam. Necessity. The mother of invention.

So, anyway. Last winter, we hadn't harvested all our carrots. When the earth finally thawed, we dug up the sad leftovers. The frost had split them, warped them, disintegrated them. Sadness. Well, this year we again had not harvested all our carrots. We had a ton! They grow like weeds here. Except much tastier. Now, part of why we didn't harvest them was NOT laziness. It's that the earth itself acts as a root cellar. No pun intended, but carrots are roots. And omg I just realized that root cellars were the first "fridge". Necessity. Invention. Turn on, ye wheel o' time and life. Sorry. Insomnia here. End digression.

As I mentioned earlier, spring is starving time. The jobs are as dried up as last autumn's corn stalks. I really wanted to make some soup, and I knew there were carrots down in the garden. However, being under a couple feet of snow and all, the location was hard to pinpoint, but I guessed it out. An educated guess, of course. I only say that because I think on every test I ever took in high school the instructors would precaution us with, "now, if you don't know the answer, make an educated guess". I found the carrot patch. But the earth was rock hard frozen solid. I was bummed; I figured whatever we had left unharvested was ruined. Unreachable, anyway, to find out for sure, but what hope was there that they could have survived a frozen bed of dirt? This is the bed of dirt:



The last few days it has been warm, in the 50's even, the snow is all but gone (it hides in the shadows like a sneak), and it's like I can taste the memory of summer, a half remembered dream, a promise, a silent hope. Ugh, did I mention the insomnia? It's making me woozy. Anyway, this morning I felt, well, hungry, and angry at winter. I set my jaw and clenched my fists with determination and I swore that I would find those carrots, whether they were dessicated or not. I flung my trowel into the ground with the fervor of a spartan against his enemy. And holy cow to my surprise the dirt was soft and totally yielding. The tundra-like perma frost has been defeated. And even more amazing, the carrots. Oh sweet carrots, how do I love thee? The carrots had survived, resisted even, Old Cranky Man Winter. Not to mention this was a record year of snowfall, the most in 17 years here. It was a fabulous, joyful harvest. Food pulled up out of the ground, I felt like I created it, like Tom Hanks in Castaway, when he finally makes fire and he shouts out his prowess to the world. Probably it was god, or mother earth, or the great spirit or whatever you call divinity. It was certainly a gift. "Carrots! I have carrots!!!" Sing and rejoice. Have some soup. Warm your bones in the sweet sun, your hands wrapped around a steaming mug.

And my last digression, speaking of soup and carrots: When I had my wisdom teeth out (which is the nicest way to put it, seeing as the dentist had to actually cut into my BONE to extract those suckers and it took weeks to recover, adding the upper tooth hole tearing into my sinus's making me sick so really it should be called 'having body parts torn, mutilated, and amputated) for two thousand dollars WITH insurance.. I'm so not bitter. I swear. Ok maybe just a little. ANYway, during that awful recovery, my mom took really good care of me, and her mom, my Granny, came over and made me carrot soup. So dang delicious. I couldn't eat solids, and I actually lost something like 15 pounds in the first two weeks after that traumatizing yankage. She even bought me a blender to make the soup with. If I had the recipe I'd share it pronto. Hey, look at that, again the wheel turns and I'm back at an earlier realization: people who give their shoulder to lean on, wanting nothing, and giving out of pure love. I feel damn lucky, and I tell ya, it's not just the carrots.

Spring is Starving Time

At least that's what the pioneers called it. They'd just about exhausted their winter stock and it was too soon for the garden to be producing. One bad winter, according to Laura Ingalls Wilder, (a hero of mine, have you noticed?), they each had 2 slices of bread a day. For like two months. It was getting to where they were debating; kill our milk cow for meat now and go with out milk and butter for a year? or hang in there? And the cow wasn't even producing milk in the winter 'cause it was her starving time, too.
Well, I'm not THAT poor, heck, I'm living like royalty compared to that. I'm piecing together a teeny bit of work here and there. I'm getting very creative with making my own breads (rosemary, yum!), scoring on food from the dollar store (one buck for a box of saltines!) and dried beans and stuff. You can make like 3 pots of soup out of a dollar bag o' beans, an onion, and a couple carrots. Eat with your homemade bread and yay!! And I do allow myself the luxury of butter. Everything's better with butter! And cheese. Cheese is hard to go without. Ooh! In fact, I'm making homemade pizza today! Dough from scratch, sauce from scratch, and cheese and onions and garlic for toppings. Drool.
Luckily Old Man Winter is losing his titan's grip on the landscape as well as the snowbird economy. Way too slowly, though. I want to work, and garden, and be warm and merry! I want a full fridge, a full bank, and of course a full smile. I tell ya, Frugal Frannie looks like Paris Hilton right about now. At least there's always loved ones. Peeps who give you a good shoulder to lean on out of pure love. And laughter. Not having laughter would be like not having oxygen. Let me share some with you.

A: Genevieve is oh so innocently watching the birds.
B: A beautiful bit o' bead work my friend handmade for me! That's lot's of B's.


C: Not so innocent anymore. Or graceful. No, you cannot pounce through windows. Contemplating level of stuckness versus possible unentanglement / escape routes.


D: "Hmmm,what is this fun shiny dangly thing?"
E: Really cute toes.


F: F is for fail. Because suddenly shiny dangly thing looks like good noms! "Nom Nom.... Ack! Mom! I wanted that!!" Yeas dear, it's only the THIRD globe I'm on since you broke the first two. Luckily this time the only thing busted was my gut from laughing so hard.


Well, there you have it. Life is ups and downs and spin you around till you're laughing or sick. Still, sometimes I think I'd settle for a kiddie ride. The only time I want the full fledged roller coaster is when I picked that line and when I get off the ride I can leave on nice, solid, level ground. And get a funnel cake. With powdered sugar. Mmmm.

The Perfect Grilled Cheese Sandwich

Omg it is really snowing like crazy. This morning when I opened the door for His Royal Highness Majesty (Pheonix) I was totally shocked. I mean, I knew snow was in the forecast but whoah! We got a good 8 inches last night and it is not ceasing! I can't see the yonder hill; nothing but a wall of white. That is another of my high tech detection systems.

Digression. Yesterday it went from snow to sun to snow to sun every 20 or 30 minutes! It was weird! Blue skies to white wall. The snow didn't stick though, it was too warm. LoL Mom calls it chubby rain. Big fat flakes that melt on impact. End digression.

Where was I. Oh yes, Pheonix was ever so delighted (large drip of sarcasm here). However, he pulled on his coat of brave indignity and went about his business. 2.3 minutes later he was quite ready to readjurn to the bedroom.

I decided a hot meal was in order. Actually, I think I will always prefer a hot meal over a cold one, but the snow just adds that much more need for it. I surveyed my materials. I considered my laziness. Then my stomach said Dammit woman I want a fancy grilled cheese so git off your bum already! And I acquiesced.

Okay first things first here. Butter. Butter is your friend. I don't mean your heart's friend, or your arteries. Fine. Use Smart Balance. It's good stuff too. But here's another temperature / weather indicator: my butter is hard. What the heck? It's supposedly... oh. 65 degrees in here. Well that's what microwaves are for. So get yourself some nice soft butter. Then of course bread- potato is my favorite. Obviously cheese; I had colby jack on hand. Slice it thin! OK but here's the exciting part. Dice up some onion and tomatoes!





K, so butter the bread and lay it in a frying pan- lowest temp! Then butter it on the face up side. I know. Arterial clog. Layer cheese, then onions and tomatoes, then GASP! Secret ingredients about to be revealed! A dash of salt, pepper, and crushed red pepper flakes. Then more cheese. Then the top piece of bread BUT! Butter it first because, see, this stops the innards from slipping out when you flip it! Amazing! Butter as glue! And then you must butter the top of the sandwich so that when you flip it it will be ready for the pan surface. Put a lid on it (no I did not just tell you to shut up) 'cause this helps the onions get really soft. Don't want to bite into raw onion, ew. Flip it after ten minutes. I know, its a long and stomach grumbling time 'cause then you have to wait ten more minutes on the other side.

This picture is blurry because, umm... because it's portraying the gooey goodness of this sandwich! Yeah that's it! Well, anyway, this is my version of a grilled cheese and I just droolingly love it. If you try it I hope you do too :)

Things to do when you're snowed in.

Jan 31st*
* Well that's when I wrote this, and we're looking at 2 or more days of snow again so I figured why not share these helpful hints!


Exhibit A. My car, far far away. The sadness. Poor lonely car, unable to serve her master, to fulfill her purpose in life.
Exhibit B. Scary, scary, non driveable driveway. In fact, we should change your name to... slideway. Or something. You are denying my car her very reason for existence.
Of course, I always think, WWLIWD? What would Laura Ingalls Wilder do? She would probably be appalled by my slothy ways. But I'm sure she'd be too polite to say anything. I bet she would also find my attire disturbing. Anyway! Let's get down to business here.

So! things to do when you're snowed in (using the term loosely here).
1. Make snow labyrinths! Work up a good sweat stomping meandering trails that intersect here and there, and stomp those suckers down good! Then later you can wonder why you didn't make one nice straight path to the driveway...

2. Get a (self) manicure! Since you bought the nail polish for one dollar it will chip if you even look at it funny! Which means you must touch it up constantly so hey! More time consumed waiting for snow melt! Oh and yes, I'm very white. It's winter. Tans are for summer. I can't help it.

3. Make snow tunnels and caves for your kitties, 'cause trust me, you aren't the only one with cabin fever.


4. Watch too much TV. And while you're at it, thank god for high speed internet to provide you with said entertainment. And netflix. Thank them too for the insta watch action. I think I watched season one AND two of The Tudors. And maybe some Flashforward.

5. Oh hey! Take a shower because the pipes haven't frozen today and no need to be stinky. Plus the warmer you feel the better to combat old man winter.

6. A good stock of high quality beer helps. Coors Light, baby. I bet King Henry the VIII would drink it. Then spit it out and order some one beheaded. He was into that. But I'm not some royal monarch so I can drink it.

7. Make random and strange lists! ...

8. Tear through the house, up and down and back and forth, shred wallpaper, knock over glasses, kill the s*** out of a roll of toilet paper and drive your mom crazy! Ummm that was Genevieve's idea for the list. You know, it's scientific fact that the cute factor saves lives.
And now, I must go follow these directives. Oh one more thing! Wear cozy pajamas!!!! No wonder Laura would look at me funny...

PS: Genevieve is GASP curled up next to me and not wreaking havoc... and she is snoring... the cuteness is unbearable. Good job mother nature. Throttle averted.

PPS: OMG I would never throttle a kitty!!!! But I bet all parents have fought the urge once or twice when their kids go crazy. This is where a good loud "AARGH!!" comes in handy. And then I laugh. I tell ya, a good arrgh really helps and laughter ALWAYS does. OMG I am going to melt in preciousnous overload over her snoring. Wish me strength.

The snow, it does not go.

Hmmm... neither does my car. Driving the level part of the driveway, even in 4 lo, was slippery. Ok, I need new tires. Yesterday I got a lift down to my car (it was at the bottom of our hill) and got to the grocery store to stock up a bit for the next snow. This always happens, too- I go to the store for just a few basic supplies, only grabbing a hand basket, and then end up so over loaded that I can barely lift the thing, not too mention my other hand is full of stuff, too. Which was actually not thinking ahead as much as I thought it was because... then I drove back to the bottom of the hill. And I looked up... and up... and up at the hill that I now had to carry all the groceries up. Plus the bag of kitty litter. Le cry.


Yes, Genevieve, for you. And Pheonix. And Miss Q. And Leonidus. Pheonix and Miss Q are usually outdoors as much as in, and despise the litterbox, but since we've all been snowed in its a 4 cat box. Eew. So I couldn't leave that (heavy) bag of litter in the car. Nor the groceries, though they would probably have stayed refrigerated just fine, if not frozen. So I hiked. And I thought about how exciting the snow was. Was. And then I stepped in a thigh high snowdrift. And then I laughed so hard I had to pause for a moment. I decided to stick to the road and not take a shortcut, but funny how laughing makes everything better, even if it takes getting dunked in a snow drift to make you laugh.


I don't know if you can see, but in the very center of this last photo is the tips of antlers on my awesome elk skull. They are my high tech snow level indicator. There's about 5 inches showing now.. that's up from 2 yesterday. None the day before. Some day the whole skull will show again. And on that day, if you happen to be strolling along my driveway, and you see a jar of pickles, grab it for me will you? There used to be a huge snowdrift there.

Two days ago.

Note the bench and firepit (center) for landmarks.

Pheonix... does not like the snow. He is not amused.

Then yesterday there was 2 to 3 feet of yucky mushy slushy snow. The forecast predicted much more (they even closed the highway) but I didn't want to get my hopes up 'cause people always seem to blow weather warnings out of proportion. Umm, yes, my hopes... yes, I WANT to see lots of snow. Well, wish granted.

This morning when Pheonix demanded to be let out, I opened the door and found myself pushing snow with said door. Have I mentioned my door is 3 feet off the ground? Well, poor Pheonix, he really had to pee. So after much eyeballing of the situation and a tentative groping paw pat, he took the plunge. Literally. Hopped to what I guess he thought must be the bottom of the steps. ...and promptly disappeared. And oh em gee did I laugh so hard. I mean, I tried not to, 'cause I swear cats can tell when you're laughing at them, but when his head popped up all covered in snow I just died laughing. Pheonix took in the situation, did a little butt wiggle, and leaped right back inside. Then, to add insult to injury, he had to use the litterbox. Oh the humanity!!

He then gathered what grace he could to perch at the window and glare at the snow. How dare mother nature not acquiesce? The sheer appalling rudeness! The indignity!!!!!

Anyway, I hope these pics came up 'cause since my comp crash and camera death it's been trouble getting photos online! Thanks to Mom for letting me use her camera! If they do show up: this is this morning- the lump on the right is the fire pit.

And it's still a comin'! Lost power once trying to post this but have it back.. for now.. ah the adventure!

January 2010 and I can't sleep

I'm afraid I have no photos, but I spent the last few days babysitting the neighbors' 14 chickens. I had a lot of eggs. Like, 4 dozen. And like I said, I can't sleep. I love to cook, but I hate cooking eggs all the weird ways people order them at the restaurant. I feel bad about wasting 8 or so of those eggs (starving children in Ethiopia and all!) but I had the insomnia! For some weird reason, practicing my egg skills sounded really, really fun. Is that the weirdest sleep deprived project ever? Probably not. So I practiced. I pulled some over mediums, an over hard, and poached the most perfect egg ever. And at the place I work, scrambled is supposed to end up like some sort of pancake looking thing. I am not down with that but I worked on perfecting the technique ( when MY eggs are scrambled, they are bubbly bits and pieces of cloud looking matter). Anyway, I think it helped me get sleepy. And the eggs will be eaten by a certain spoiled dog who stops by looking for handouts so they did not really go to waste. Cooking practice and spoiled dogs yay!

P.S. Sunny side up. I gotta practice that one.

P.P.S. Maybe over easy is an inherited taste? Me mum n da never made 'em that way, so... I dunno. I'll stick with the scramble. OMG there is one guy who orders them 'basted' I think he calls it... which is poached... in BUTTER.Yowza. Say hello to Mr. Arterial Clog.

Treasure Hunting

So. Went treasure hunting this morning. Why I got up at 6:30 am on my day off... well, I'm just glad I got sleep at all. Insomnia, you know. Pretty soon I'll be starting underground fight clubs. I kid lol. What's weird is that lately, when I DO sleep, I just have crazy dream after crazy intense dream. But I suppose that's a story for another time, off the subject at the very least, so here ends that digression (there will probably be others though).

Anyway, I got up way too early for a day off and decided to go check out the garden. There's this zucchini I've had my eye on for several days now, and I had a craving for some zuc fried up with eggs and cheese for breakfie. Our zucchini crop has been quite pitiful this year, sadly, so we've all been like vultures circling the ones that do pop up. Well, I hadn't picked it yet when I noticed some tomaters near by... which then led me to a bare patch in the earth. Somewhat like a kitten following a butterfly, I suppose. This bare patch marked where I'd previously dug up a couple of yukon golds. It was a purely experimental dig- see, this particular potato plant had sprung up of it's own accord; apparently, we'd missed a tater during harvest last year and lo and behold, a volunteer!

Now, as I'd only pulled two big taters out of this spot and a handful of little ones, at 7 am this morning I thought, why not? There's bound to be more in there. So I started to dig. And by jove was it a fantastic and exciting treasure hunt, and like any such adventure should be, it was fraught with peril as well as rewards. Not the kind of Indiana Jones, finding gold and jewels, running from giant boulders and head hunters type of adventure, but plenty good enough for me. Yes, I had my share of peril. I encountered TWO nasty scary yucky grubs- tho of course I was gentle and placed them in other pastures even though they GROSSED ME OUT. Also I encountered a big fat earthworm, which yes I know is great for my garden but I have a phobia ok? I bravely ignored my squeamishness and carefully relocated heshe (as I'm pretty sure earth worms are, um, both sexes?).

Anyway, the terror and the dig were well rewarded. Look at this loot. I'm going to make a huge batch of bacon potato cheese soup (yes the former vegetarian has fallen so far) and I'm going to throw in some onion stems- the flower stalks have this exquisite flavor-and I'm going to spread the wealth. I'm going to take some to Mom and Potterman, and my awesome friends/ neighbors Ociffer Martooni (which does her funny side justice but she's a beauty too, also she is the aforementioned bestower and addictor of pedicures lol) and her hubby the king. Not that he is some patriarchal monarch, nor a crooner from Tennessee, but somehow he just ended up with that nickname.

Somehow it just seems like a miracle that this beautiful food grew right here in the dirt in my yard. And I tell ya, you don't see yukons this big in the store, nor would they be as tender as these if you did. It's almost like they have no skin at all. If only I had I good knife for chopping them. Working where I do, with quality utensils, makes me a tad displeased with what I have at home. LOL but I'm happy, and if junky knives are my biggest complaint, then I'm luckier than most.

Wow, so many hummingbirds surround me! (Sitting in the garden writing this.) The daisies are translucent with the morning sun, and even more pleasing to me than these little bomber humming birds is all the bees. They hover 6 inches from my face, scoping the flowers. I know that would freak some people out but it's worms and grubs that get me lol. When I see these bees legs laden and heavy with pollen it makes my heart skip with joy. Bees are the... messengers? harbingers? procreators? of our future. Not to go too far on a tangent, but human kind has tried to replicate what bees do for us and has so far failed. We NEED bees to pollinate our crops. The circle of life, yo. End digression.

Later I'll tell you about my new family members but at this point I don't want to jinx it. I've lost too many furry kids and these new ones are attaching to my heart at an alarmingly quick rate. Plus I think they make my nose run. Lol but it's more than worth it.

If you're lucky, I'll put up the soup recipe, and if I don't, it's really just cuz I'm a slacker. Please pardon my vernacular, like I said, I got up at 6:30 on my day off and I'm about ready to crawl back in bed.

As we always said at the dinner table when I was a kid: rub a dub dub, thanks for the grub, yay God!

P.S. Sorry if the pictures don't show up; I'm sure you've seen potatoes before. My hard drive blew up recently and not only was it a terrible time, I lost many things. Photoshop was one, and it was the tool with which I usually condense photos for the web.

So, guess what?

The craziest, most unimaginable thing in the entire world happened. It wasn't this hawk, though that was pretty darn cool too. It sat in this tree about 25 feet up for at least an hour. It kept crying it's sad sweet cry. I think it had hurt it's leg, but luckily, not a wing because that would have been a death sentence. All the little birds were really pissed about it chillin' there and kept dive bombing it the entire time it sat there. The hawk would duck if he had to, but mostly just ignored them. And boy were they talkin' some schmack to it, too. Turns out it was a Ferruginous hawk (buteo regalis) and yes regal is a great latin name for them. They are the largest hawk species! Cool!!!! And I got million great pics but I was too lazy to put 'em up. Ha.

Anyway like I said that's not the crazy thing. Are you sitting down? I just cracked myself up because how many people STAND at their computers? Here it is: I got a job... that I LIKE. Omg I think the world stopped turning for a sec there. I never ever believed in such a thing. A job you like? That's like Unicorns and Dragons. A nice story, but pure myth. And the day I ran out of money (well, the liquid cash I'd been living on) I got a job. For good pay, too. I didn't know I was going to like it tho. I figured it'd just be, you know, work. Hopefully tolerable, but even if I hated it I'd have income. And it turns out, I love it.

I'm a sous chef and all I do every day is FUN STUFF!!!!!! I make cakes and pies and rolls from scratch. I peel taters and make tater salad. I even make the salad dressings! I make apple walnut salad and pasta salad and the darn YUMMIEST chicken salad ever!! I boil eggs and peel 'em, and that may sound menial, but to think that I get PAID to do it!!! I get paid to do one of my favorite things ever, prepare food! I mean, some of my favorite websites are just recipe collections and I love reading them. I was considering culinary school for sheesh sakes. Now I'm getting the real deal on the job experience can you believe it?!?! 'Kay I think I'm going to wear out my exclamation key now. Suffice to say, I'm stoked.