Category: Uncategorized

decorative

Mother Earth Day

2 Comments

About mid-way between Earth Day and Mother’s Day, Caddo Artist sent me this:


Caddo Care Carton Contents:

Sandy Springs Buffalo Meat Jerky, Hinton, OK
Pepper Creek Farms Dip Mix, Lawton, OK
EEMB Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookie Mix & Peanut Butter Brownie, Lexington, OK
Lasley Roasted Peanuts, Eakly, OK
Scott Farms Tortilla Soup Mix & Reds, Rice, & Spice, Altus, OK
Sooners Salsa, Amigo’s Salsa, Ardmore, OK
Native Roots Market Bumper Sticker, Norman, OK

That there first item was done et straight’way. The brownie soon follered and the salsa wern’t long for this world. I’m not saying that Caddo is fattening me up for reunion slaughter; I am saying I haven’t exhibited much self-control.

Caddo included a card with the quotation, “There is nothing more honorable than motherhood.” I have plans in the coming days to disprove this, but for now, I am embracing the honorific. A separate note read, in part, “I wanted to send the apple pie, it was a party in your mouth with every bite!” The tease! I guess there is honor in motherhood, but cruelty in friendship.

Okay, while she did everything as I have written, the expanded contents of the note were personal, touching, inspiring, and directed straight my way. Perhaps there is nothing more honorable than motherhood, but for sure there’s nothing more humbling than reflective generosity. This mother of three who takes care of her family and friends so well is certainly most honorable.

decorative

What’s Blooming

3 Comments

Our night blooming cerus attracted a visitor. Is this a cerus? I think so. It is now anyway. Sometimes we have more than 30 larger-than-your-hand-sized blooms on that cactus. Have you met our new pet bee? We are taking up bee-keeping. Not bees-keeping. Just the one. Doing our part to prevent Colony Collapse Disorder and therefore world destruction.

My great-grandmother in Alabama had a gorgeous backyard with a fishing pond. Along one side was a vegetation-covered corridor and I loved to walk around the pond to get to the fantasy world under those arched green shadows. Depending on which way you walked around the pond, you either passed her beehive before the tunnel or afterward. The bees terrified me, especially in those swarming massive numbers, so I made myself inconspicuous as possible when in their general area.

Do I need to state explicitly that we aren’t getting a hive? Well, there you have it, and our vari cacti don’t all bloom at night. My prickly pear blooms in the daytime and I have three sorts.

I have orange flowers (lots of them):


I have yellow flowers (just this one, but the promise of more):


And I have orange and yellow flowers (not sure this one is prickly pear):

I’m thinking of doing some tuna harvesting and making stuff.

On edit: I didn’t pay much attention to sizing, but the photos are much prettier when really big, so click on them to see up close.

decorative

That’s Right, Kale Chips

1 Comment

The most insanely fantastical librarian gave Hawt Mz. a tip on kale chips, which she then passed on to me in lieu of getting emotionally involved in my daily drama. Now all y’all will benefit from a resourceful woman-to-woman, educator-to-educator network.


Right prior to the kids’ spring break, the perfect storm of crazy busy, interpersonal frustration, and a visit from Aunt Flo hit like police brutality. I met my teacher guru in a dim corner of the breezeway where she gave me excellent advice, which was to get as ugly as I needed to get in private, then use that to inform a more calm voice.

Hawt Mz. spied me purging my soul and afterward brought me from the dark into the garden’s light with a gift of beets and kale. The produce was about to go to the chickens because it was time to harvest, but our farm stand wouldn’t be open until after spring break, or so she claimed. Then she passed on the kale chip recipe.

Washed & dried kale
Oil to cover
Salt to taste

I translated this to 1 Tbs Kosher salt, 1 Tbs oil, kale.

The sheet on the left is straight up. The sheet on the right uses 1 Tbs of apple cider vinegar. The photo doesn’t do it justice, but the vinegar kale took on a deeper green.

Here they are, crunchy, over-salted chips. That’s right, “salt-to-taste” is way less than 1 Tbs of Kosher salt. FYI, the vinegar chips were mo’ betta’. Generally speaking, kale chips taste like paper thin, ultra crisp Veggie Booty.
You could totally replace the salt with Lawry’s or BBQ seasoning or popcorn seasoning or powdered cheddar or qual quiere.

The kale chips were a diversion from my bad attitude, but keeping me emotionally afloat is a community where people recklessly embrace each other with new ideas, thoughtful advice, and perceptive support.

decorative

Housekeeping

3 Comments

Not the real sort of housekeeping where I wash dishes or any of that. As the hubster will attest, I detest such frivolity and won’t entertain even the thought it. For example, here is my drawing room:


And my library:


Okay, these are photos of the Collyer Brother’s home, but only because we don’t have a drawing room or a library. Instead we have a landfill and a Goodwill drop-off station, and unlike these photos, my clutter is in color. I’m ignoring the real cleaning for now. The housekeeping to which I refer is the mental, electronic sort. Therefore, today I’m presenting a listy sort of thing.

1. I’ve delivered another phenomenal guest post to Denveater. Seriously, I am so erudite, sophisticated, amazing … where was I? Oh, yes, I am well edited. That’s what I mean. She makes me smart. Big hearts to the glamorous, hilarious, and freakishly intelligent Ruth for whom I’d write anything.

2. While driving around in the minivan listening to the oldies station and not paying attention, the 6 YO girl says, “Mom, if it is a bad case, then he probably should go to the doctor, but I think he’s talking to his girlfriend.”

3. I’ve been crazy stand-on-my-head while running in circles busy. This is the afternoon of my dreams:

Thems are beets from Hawt Mz who identified and lifted one of my many recent foul moods, veggie fried rice fortified by backyard chicken eggs, and a Mexican Coke made with real sugar and not the post-New Coke crap.

4. I’m proud of my for pay job. It’s fun, interesting, and challenging. I actually get to use my college degree. Yup. I got one or two or three. I know, I know. You are shocked, but it’s true. I don’t do anything without my computer guru, Ultimate. Except this, I did this all by myself (with the help of a zillion other people). You can see me in the background trying to convince people how cool my job is. Get out your tissue. Two asides: A) don’t get me in trouble and B) we are in a capital campaign and if you have a check for a million or so, your gift will be fully tax deductible.

And just like that, I’m exhausted and can’t sweep up one more item for you. Those dusty corners aren’t going anywhere. I’m totally going to do a Scarlet O’Hara on them.

decorative

Bocal Sandwich

4 Comments

Last night I went to a school meeting and made comments that I wasn’t ready to make. I drew blank and felt caught with my pants down. Instead of terror, some folks read passion in my voice. I guess that’s better? In any event, I woke up with “I should have said this instead” thoughts. At the school this morning, a few pals said they appreciated my emotional honesty, which totally grossed me out because, as Anneliese pointed out in a meme, this is the Midwesterner’s nightmare.

Later, I went to pottery and busted out the bottom of a casserole dish that otherwise would have been awesome. I’d worked on the dish for, oh, a month of classes. On the bright side, I still have an intact casserole dish lid. Now, what am I going to do with that?

The day wasn’t a total loss. Anna and I went to the Maderas Bassoon Quartet performance, which was the finale of St. Philip’s In the Hills Lenten Recital Series. Even if it wasn’t a Lenten recital, you could have guessed the host was an Episcopal church based on the music hall’s decor. Check it out.

The deep burgundy velvet draping, the gold gilded alter behind the piano, and hanging from the exposed industrial metal beams? Chandeliers. These are my peeps. No one questioned how enjoying this little concert helped us with our meditations in reflection of the sacrifice of our savior, Jesus Christ. Also, the quartet itself had just the tiniest hint of irreverent attitude. Take, for example, this excerpt from a bassoonist’s biography:

Cassandra Bendickson first became enthralled by the bassoon when a curious group of four bassoonists gave a concert … . She passed the time until her hands could finally fit the Great Bassoon by playing lesser instruments such as piano, viola, and clarinet. Finally, she could grasp the beast…. She is currently enslaved by the mantle of graduate studies in the great quest of Bassoon Mastery.

Can you believe that!?! She didn’t even mention me. All will be forgiven in time and just to show my own good will towards her, I’m providing a little lesson on the difference between a bassoon and an oboe, which is apparently a sticking point.

  1. You can hit a baseball further with a bassoon.
  2. A bassoon is better at a camp site because it burns longer.
  3. A burning oboe is useful when setting bassoons on fire.
  4. Bassoonists form very tight social bonds with other bassoonists because they are far too exclusive to mingle with other instruments.

I kid, of course. And I’m a hack. These must be the only bassoon/oboe jokes out there and I’m sure bassoonists are weary of them. I do realize this is a sensitive topic. I think the main difference is the bassoon is totally twisted. Seriously. See?*


Did I mention my jeans were too tight all day long? Oddly, they only got tighter as the day extended to night. I ended the day so overstuffed with melted cheese that no amount of metabolism in the world can take care of the bloat. If today were a sandwich the bread would have been livestock fodder, but the meat would have been hearty and uplifting.

* These images were totally stolen from here and here.

decorative

Solar Power Rocks!

4 Comments

For a second, I was at Winfest. Then I realized things weren’t green and squishy. Also, we live in Tucson and not Winslow. You’d think that because both towns are in Arizona no big diff, but you’d be wrong. My thoughts took me to Winslow, Arkansas where Arkansawyers get down to bluegrass and rock and country and stuff. The Hubster adored his Fighting Squirrels (closed in 2005). I’m more lukewarm remembering bootleggers and black eyes, but I can’t deny the environmental beauty of Northwestern Arkansas.

Nay. I’m talking about Tucson’s Solar Rock Festival, which in its comparative infancy has its own dedication to environmental beauty.
You see that graphic up there? Check out that percentage. Yup, 100% solar powered rock concert. Having biked to a 100% solar powered rock concert, why on earth would I feel compelled to turn out my lights for an hour when I returned home? Terrifying! People create babies in the dark.

I didn’t take photos at Solar Rock because of the back breaking work involved with volunteering for these high-inspo bosses. I was there for set up, during which I ate a bagel and snagged a repurposed “T”. I returned later to work the kids’ booth, where ankle biters (and Boris) created original works of art on organic cotton grocery bags. The creations by some of the young people rocked my world even without solar powered amplifiers. The art on my children’s faces packed powerful punches as well. The 9-YO boy requested a scorpion lizard and the 6-YO girl’s kitty face was furry cuteness.

Luckily someone else took photos. 1) Presenting the Hubster, 2) Scorpion Lizard King and Queen Kitten Cat, 3) Boris’s blood-red paw against a Turkish rug, 4) Solar panels on wheels.

And there you have it – a completely exhausting day. If my lights were out at 8 p.m., it’s because we earned an early bed time.

decorative

Excessive Misery

2 Comments

I don’t even want to get into the drama clouding the pastoral existence I’ve so desperately attempted to carve out for my family. Don’t ask and don’t tell, please. I’ll keep mine to myself. You keep yours to yourself and we will pretend everything is fine and dandy like a hard candy Christmas. Leave me alone, I’m doing fine, Just go away, I’ll be okay, Please don’t touch me… (an inside joke shared between my family and millions of SNL viewers).

In the midst of major dramas, there are minor dramas. Each fire is put out in its own turn. We plod determinedly ahead. Considering our real-life, unavoidable drama, I have no desire for avoidable, made-up crises – even if they make me giggle a little.

Now, forget everything I just said because I’m gonna share a wee bit o’ priceless, made-up drama. Due to planning shenanigans (avoidable drama), I unexpectedly attended a field trip with the 9-YO boy’s class today. His unhappiness about water molecules made me giggle a little. Dra-ma!


Clearly, as the photo evidences (noun verb, boo-yah!), I am nothing but a loving supportive mother. I’m hugging him; I have a clear look of concern on my face; he has a kissy mark on his face. Yet he sees me as a mustache-twirling evildoer on whom he wishes doom. Or perhaps he’s thinking, “Kill me now!” Whatever the case, I’ll be ready for your drama in a couple of weeks. In the meantime, don’t be surprised if I laugh at your lack of molecular diversity. ‘k?