No Waste Day Wasted

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I started out No Waste Day with the best of intentions. I put my coffee in a jar and the jar in a sock. My son’s soccer water was also in a jar. My daughter drank her soccer water out of her expensive and cute SIGG thing. But that’s not really “no waste” as we always drink out of thermosesesi and to go mugs and such. The sock had a wintery theme to bring cheer to the dreary 70 degree temps Tucsonans are forced to face.
Post-soccer we went to lunch and partook in much waste, but the girl collected leaves for later use in a front window Fall display. I tied the leftover food and harvested leaves to the top of the minivan along with the kids since the interior of the minivan can only hold so much junk.

Upon arriving home, I cleaned out my minivan. H.O.L.Y. C.R.A.P. I pretty much had to cart No Waste Day to the curb with the trash at that point because there was such a paper blizzard I considered shipping it to Aspen to improve skiing conditions. Then, I collected all the food from the floor and sent it to Pilgrims Pride to compliment their reduced lunch for kids program.

Afterward, I did a bunch of laundry, but only hung one load to dry. A girl likes soft skivvies, you know. Blah blah blah worked for pay, which may never get done. Then packaging for dinner was unwrapped and trashed. Oh, hey, I have a solar oven on loan that cooks potatoes like silk.
So, today was Best of Intentions, Recycle, Trash, Use, and Think of How I Once Did Something Good for the Planet Day.

“Recycling is Bullshit” – Hey, Oh!


I’ve not been visiting TreeHugger as much as I used to. I don’t know. Do I think I know it all? Do I think I’ve evolved? It seemed like I had already internalized most of what I could do. My energy use is relatively small – relative to other Americans. I use gray water for the backyard landscape. I eat locally and not much meat. I carry around my own coffee mug. Plus, it’s not like I’m going to mount solar panels on a rental or participate in a greenwash by buying new goo-gaws. Even I have a bottom line.

Recycling is Bullshit is the blog that brought me back. I do still have much to learn. I remember that it was quite exciting to return bottles of Coke for quarters when I was a child. Not too many bottles could keep my brother and I in Ms. PacMan/Space Invaders/Centipede for quite some time or fund our sugar fix. That joy was stolen from my children by big corporations and their Indian-tear inducing trashy bottles? YIKES! Who knew? And for years I participated. Man, I love radicals. Thanks Lloyd! You scare me and make me feel like a loser, but YAY you!

So, anywayz, I don’t guess I’ll be able to change much about our recycling output in the short term. I’ll still have to participate in the wasteful society, but on November 15th I’ll also participate in NO WASTE DAY. I can’t find any official shadow movement other than TreeHugger’s, but I’m going to do it anyway. Care to join me?

GO VOTE!

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I had to put in a plug for my daddy-o’s blog today. He’s pretty much on politics like stink on shit, as the saying goes. In fact, the saying goes that way from my dad’s mouth pretty much a lot. This blog especially resonates with me because Dad recounts a story about my great-grandfather finding a way around a disenfranchising poll tax so that he could vote.

If I didn’t make the case before, please, please, don’t let this election, any election, pass without voting. GO VOTE!

Election Results In


Obama in a landslide!

Twenty-eight ballots were cast in the 8 YO Boy’s classroom. We voted on three candidate races and three propositions. Here are the results*:

  • Presidential Electors: Obama – 23, McCain – 2, Barr – 1, and no vote recorded – 2
  • Prop 105: No – 18, Yes – 8, and no vote recorded – 2
  • Prop 300: Yes – 15, No – 12, and no vote recorded – 1
  • Prop 403: No – 15, Yes – 10, and no vote recorded – 3

We had no reports of voter fraud or intimidation at the polling place. Voter turnout was high with only one absence among Ms. P’s “Big Wigs”. To background these results, a sizeable number of children from this class went trick-or-treating together. It was their experience that upon arriving at a house with an Obama sign, they were greated with laughter and “good” candy. Four houses later they came upon a house with a McCain sign out front. The lights were on, but no one was home. A basket on the porch had two solitary (not packages but individual) LifeSavers in it. This isn’t typical for all of Tucson as reports from the foothills residents on the 8 YO Boy’s soccer team indicate that the trick-or-treaters supporting Obama were asked to redistribute their candy – an idea on which they weren’t too keen.

I had a great deal of anxiety about real-world voting. I don’t do well with parking lots, people, waiting. I heard all these frightening stories about bringing the correct identification and wearing the appropriate clothing. I’ve had bad luck in the past with being turned away from the polls (never successfully) and I am tired of the fight. I just want to vote. Please? Can’t a sister vote without turmoil? Isn’t this why so many women have rocked the vote since 1920?

So I put on my big-girl panties and went to my local precinct polling place. I walked right in, stepped right up. I was the first in line and I threw down THREE different pieces of identification. Hither thither and yon for signing in, slips of paper that trade in for actual ballots, and a nosy black box operator later, I was finished. My number was 168 (I think) at 11 a.m. No need for all the fear and loathing.

I voted for my presidential electors and at least 10 Democrats, 4 Republicans, and 1 Green candidate plus some others who aren’t identified by party for local governing boards. I chose to retain or not retain 21 judges and I voted NO on 7 propositions and YES on two. I have no clue if I made good choices, but they were at least partially informed ones.

Tonight the fam, which includes Todd-o, will be eating hot dogs with yellow mustard and watching the returns. We are going to party like the Sooners won the National Title! I mean, we are going to honor what a freaking awesome country this is where we get a say in the political process regardless of whether or not everyone goes against my better judgement to select boneheads for offices and can’t figure out a proposition from a wide stance.

If you haven’t already, please go VOTE!

* Corporation Commissioner and TUSD Governing Board results were not tallied. The expectation is that the children will take their ballots and electoral maps home and follow the returns.

Halloween Snapshot

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Okay, I wanted to blog all this stuff about Halloween, but I neglected to attend to one of the more important tenants of publishing – deadlines. Of course for a blog, I don’t have to plan as far ahead as traditional publishing, but perhaps some of this would have been more interesting/useful BEFORE Halloween. It’s highly unlikely that my three readers would take a look at this today. In any event and without further ado, here are my Halloween snapshots.

First, we picked pumpkins. This was a time for funny faces and produce bigger than my baby. In AZ, we sell our pumpkins alongside dried chilies.

On to the massacre. The Weisers continue to invite us to Pumpkinpalooza in spite of the fact that we ALWAYS come. Robyn is a great pal who shows us a good time and feeds us well. Chili – YUM! I took a photo of my dinner. This year, I let the ankle biters carve their own designs with actual knives. No trips to the ER. Phew!


The 8 YO boy carved a bat in flight and the 6 YO girl carved a kitten cat. I scored a surplus pumpkin for free because someone dropped it. I carved snakes coming out of the resultant crack, which I had enlarged. We coated our pumpkins with Vaseline so that they would keep. We didn’t do such a great job this year and that, partnered with the heat, saw two of our pumpkins turn gross-out mushy.

I painted the girl’s fingernails orange, but it didn’t last. Then we roasted our pumpkin seeds. We washed the 3 or so cups of seeds, boiled them for 10 minutes in 14 cups of water and 14 tablespoons of salt, then coated them in olive oil and roasted them at 400 degrees for 20 minutes. YUM! Better than I thought, though I’m not the sort who cares for the outer shell.

Finally, we are looking forward to Dia de los Muertos. The kids made sugar skulls at one of the school’s fundraisers. Cute huh? These were made sans glue, so they are entirely edible.

Anna and I have been talking about how fun and inspiring Dia de los Muertos is in comparison to the more somber Memorial Day. They each have their place. Grace St. Paul’s Episcopal Church is celebrating the Feast of All Saints on November 1st and the Commemoration of the Faithful Departed (All Souls’ Day) on November 2nd. I’m looking forward to bringing photos of my loved ones who’ve passed on to the services.

Check out posts from last year. Here, Here, Here, and Here.

We’ve Been BOOed!

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The hubster and I endeavored to teach our kids the time-honored tradition of ding-dong ditch. We called it something else when I was a kid and though it was alliterate, it wasn’t very nice. Pranking isn’t part of the value system we normally teach our children, but with Halloween coming and all we were happy for the chance provided by some goblins at my daughter’s school – the happiest place on earth with all due respect to Disneyland. We were BOOed, you see. It’s a cool tradition even if it does smack reminiscent of chain letters.

The other night as we fought over homework, there was a frantic knock on the door, but no one visible through the peephole. JEEPERS! A mystery! Upon opening the door, we saw a sack full of candy and a note that read, “You’ve been BOOed! Blah blah blah. You have to BOO two other families.” As we read the note, there was another knock. The thing is you are supposed to put a note on your door stating that you’ve been BOOed to prevent spam BOOings, but you can’t do that if you are still in the act of reading the directions. More intrigue! Upon opening the door that second time, we had a pumpkin full of Tom’s children’s toothpaste and toothbrushes, among other stuff. How cool! Why, oh why can’t we be BOOed all the time? Oh, yeah, the chain part.

The kids and I went shopping for spooky gifts to pass on. We made sweet little bundles and set out with the master of delinquency, their father. Heh heh. First house, darn! Door’s open and barking dog spies the kids through the screen door. The 6 YO girl shouts her brother’s non-standard name. RUN! The door answerer squinted through the dark as the kids ran to our vehicle.

On to door number 2. The kids are fighting about whether or not the gifts are placed close enough to the door and when the bell should be rung. DING DONG DOH! The door answerer through the bushes spied the 8 YO boy attempting conversation outside the driver side door to his father who urged, “Get in the car! Get in the car!” Fortunately, by house 3, we had the procedure down.

Ding-dong ditch, easy peasy lemon squeazy heavily laced with adrenaline.

Ballengers Biking

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Now and again, between soccer practices and music lessons, we’ll take to the streets to revel in the freedom of two wheels and no particular place to go.

(Production Note: 1) Grrr! I tried saving this in a zillion formats. Quicktime was the only one that actually displayed the movie. 2) I had an aged film effect going, but what were static-y, scratched images at first became simple, elegant black screens. No cute hubster and children biking. My intent in attempting aged film was to pretend that this ride was filmed long ago – before little girls on their bikes were made to wear helmets. Clearly, I need more experience with the iMovies. And I need to remember helmets for BOTH the kids.)

Democraps and Repooplicans

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“Mom, have you ever heard of a Repooplican?”

“No. But that’s pretty funny. Where did you hear that?”

“Oh, I was thinking about how ‘Democrat’ sounded like ‘Democrap’ and then it just came to me.”

You gotta give it to my 8 YO boy, “Democrap” and “Repooplican” are clever AND descriptive.

I wish I had a nickname like “Barracuda” – you know, not the “swallow whole” metaphor way, but more like the “holy shit, watch out for her” sort of way. Barracuda is the first song on the third CD of that mixed tape* Max made me. When I’m rollin’ in the MV that base hits and I’m all “hell yeah, Molms!” I’ve been pissed at the Democraps for 7+ years now. WTF have they been thinking? doing? They must have Repooplican for brains.

I’ve not been successful at channeling my inner Repooplican. The woman doesn’t get me. Her rocking awesome nickname doesn’t get me. Heart protests the very use of their song for Repooplican Governor Barracuda! Sorry, Maverick. You lost me at Palin. Besides, I’m ready for the retro stylings of cheques and balances.

Lest you think all my word joy comes from the boy, the hubster explained the economic situation we are having now as compared to the great depression to the 6 YO girl. She thought on it a while, re-entered the room and clarified, “But we’re happy now, right?”

FIN

* Haven’t I mentioned enough the mixed tapes I have received from Max and Anna enough? Do you get the picture. First, the hubster stole my iPod and second, I like mixed tapes and I cannot lie!

Bloggy Style

Your Blogging Type Is Clever and Witty

Of all blogging types, you’re the best with words.

Almost every blog post you write has legendary quality.

You have a perverse sense of humor and often play devil’s advocate.

Impatient and picky, you tend to go off on funny rants from time to time.

Aren’t these Cosmo-style quizzes meant to stroke blogger egos? I mean, as though the blog wasn’t about ego from the get-go. This four-question quiz supplies only two answers per question, neither of which fully apply to my style, if indeed I had one. Since I started this blog, I’ve actually put some thought into what I hope to accomplish. What is my niche? I can honestly say that I have none. Although, the characteristics in my blogger type quiz result may be fitting descriptors of some of my old MS blogs, which are safely tucked away from the multitudes who would wish to do me harm. Yes, I’m talking to you. No, not you. You.

Point is, I’d like to see a result that reads, “Your blogger type is boring and sophomoric.” Perhaps, “Your blogger type is mushy and pointless.” I would also appreciate the honest, “Your blogger type is arrogant and self-indulgent.” My blogger type quiz result is a little more than a load of crap. But, honestly, aren’t I just the tiniest bit witty and clever? or was it clever and witty?

Oh, and since I’m feeling all quizzey. I took the what would Sarah Palin name you quiz and apparently Mommy Palin hates her little Puck Mule. Thanks to Rocks who directed me to that one some weeks back.

Now the truthy blog, I don’t think the hubster likes to be mentioned in my blogs. Even so, I’m thinking quite fondly of him since he’s the morning parent. He’s also running off some paperwork I need so I can sit on my behiney, drinking spicey creamed tea, on a slightly chilled evening while inflating my ego.