Happy Halloween

Let's see what the magical oracle of blogthings has in store for me this Halloween.

Your Monster Profile

Name: Hungry Butcher You Feast On: Beer (Hhhmm, not so much. How about Chocolate?) You Lurk Around In: Swamps You Especially Like to Torment: Republicans (Why yes, yes I do. Just ask, Mr. Lime who is registered Republican. Oh, and for the record, I like going after Democrats too. I'm all about being bipartisan here...)

What's Your Monster Name?

You Are a Werewolf

You're unpredictable, moody, and downright freaky. (Gees, go on one destructive rampage and people are all set to slap a label on you.) You seem sweet and harmless, until you snap. Then you're a total monster. (Just gimme the chocolate and no one gets hurt. How hard is this people???? Come on, I said give it to me NOW!!!!) Very few people can predict if you're going to be Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde. (Keep em guessing, I say.) But for you, all your transformations seem perfectly natural. (Duh!) Your greatest power: Your ability to tap into nature Your greatest weakness: Lack of self control You play well with: Vampires (But if Frankenstein comes over here I am gone. That guy is such a klutz. And his bride? Spare me. All that lumbering around they do just totally ruins any stealth I might have. How am I supposed to have any fun with them fouling up my sneak attacks?)

What Kind of Monster Are You?

What Your Halloween Habits Say About You

You're a friendly person, but not the life of the party. (Hi, my name's Lime. What's yours? I'm so glad you're here. Wanna see my paper clip collection?) You like making someone else's day - and you'll dress up if you think of a really fun costume. No one quite understands you, but everyone also sort of worships you. And that's exactly how you like it. (What am I, the big question mark in the sky?) Your inner child is open minded, playful, and adventurous. (Although now only willing to go on ziplines that have harnesses.) You fear those closest to you finding out who you really are. You dread people discovering your secrets. (Puts on the most innocent look I can. What secrets? ) You're logical, rational, and not easily effected. Not a lot scares you... especially when it comes to the paranormal. (Ghost huh? Yawn...) You are a traditionalist with most aspects of your life. You like your Halloween costume to be basic, well made, and conventional enough to wear another year. (Basically, I am too cheap to want to spend more that $5 on a get-up I wear once.)

What's Your Halloween Personality?

Trini Tuesday-All Saint's Day

It's been a while since I did one of the culturally informative Trini Tuesday posts but it seemed a good time.

The year we spent in Trinidad exposed us to a whole new set of holidays that I have written about in many other posts long ago. Other holidays we were accustomed to observing were not part of the calendar. The end of October/beginning of November was a slight twist. There were no Halloween parties where everyone dressed up and no trick or treating with kids all in costumes. We knew that would be the case. What we didn't realize was what a big deal All Saint's Day was.

People may not dress up for Halloween but this time of year is the time for graves to be dressed up. I snagged the above picture from Flickr to give an idea what the tombstones in Trinidad look like. I'm not sure what sort of stone or materials are used but they are generally white like that. The harsh tropical sun and the driving tropical rains that beat down in that part of the world have a way of degrading things quickly. House paint fades, curtains fade and the fabric weakens, graves and their markings are no exception.

As we moved around our town during the last days of October and first days of November we noticed crowds of people in the local cemeteries whitewashing the tombstones before painting in the information contained on them. The cemeteries are not the huge expanses of land maintained by perpetual care arrangements so the families come to weed out the overgrowth, tidy up the markers, and offer prayers and remembrances. Folks had picnic lunches, flowers and candles all over the place. Some people were quite serious and somber about the proceedings but most of them seemed to have a rather festive mood. After all, this is Trinidad, where the populace boasts about having more public holidays on the calendar than any other nation (I haven't researched to verify that claim. I only know I heard it more times than I can recall.) All dey would take any chance tuh fete!

Even though All Saint's Day is a Catholic tradition it is not unusual to see Protestants, Hindus and Muslims out tidying up the graves of their departed family members too. Again, we were in Trinidad where the various religious traditions bump up against each other and comingle celebrations. The other groups might not be partaking in the religious aspects of the day but if it is chance to fete, or have some food, or meet a family obligation it's not necessarily limited to one segment of the population.

We didn't go to cleanup any graves but we had our own minor observation of the season. After I came home from the market Diana pulled a bag over her head. I took it back long enough to rip out an eye hole. She enjoyed running around our house and jumping out to say "BOO!"

Memers Parade

Beach Bum tagged me with this random factoid meme a while ago. Now mind you I have done this particular meme in its various lengths about a half a dozen times. I have also done 3 different '100 things about me' type lists. I am not sure how much more random information I can give without 1. boring the crap out of you or 2. requiring some sort of deep, personal, and lasting commitment from each of you.

That being the case, I obtained permission from Diesel to use the services of his trusty Nazgul, Grundir the Implacable, for this round of the meme. He has the somewhat dubious distinction of being my very first guest blogger and I am entirely placated by his efforts. I hope you will be too. Although I had to wait rather a while for Grundir to complete his designated task it finally comes at a good time because this weekend has seen sickness and injury, house and car issues, and technological problems (For all of you who like to complain about Blogger, let me tell you it doesn't hold a candle to the incompetence and problems that Yahoo has!) all crop up at once. With that I turn over the blog to Grundir the Implacable.


O Exceedingly Patient Lime of the House of Lime -



Greetings from Grundir the Implacable,
Nazgûl and
Meme-Wraith.
I have at long last completed my assigned task. I would have dispatched this meme much sooner were it not for the doubling of my workload at Diesel's estate.
Evidently I have disappointed my lord and am being punished for some offense.
I fervently hope that my able handling of this troublesome meme goes some way toward
gaining back his favor.



This is indeed a bothersome meme, my lady, perhaps even worse than
this one. Verily, it is as ubiquitous as it is vague and insipid.
Eight random things? What kind of foolishness is this? Most memes I
encountered at least have some discernible reason for existing, but this meme has
no form or purpose. It is but a shadowy ghoul preying upon passersby.



Bah! Even such a dismissive characterization gives it too much weight.
I shall dispatch it post haste without even baring my steel.



Eight Random Things About Grundir the Implacable, Nazgul and Meme-Wraith



1. Before I lost my corporeal form, I very much enjoyed the simple carnal pleasure
of pepperoni pizza. I did not eat it often, though, because it gave me gas.
Now that I am one of the living dead, I miss it. The gas, that is.

2. I once had a pet hobbit that I named Stubby Joe. I caught him rifling through
my jewelry one day and had to put him down.


3. Sometimes the distant howls of the wargs in the desolate wastelands of the east
give me the creeps. I know, people always say they're more frightened of me
than I am of them, but man are they creepy sounding.

4. I have a terrible sense of direction. I pretty much just followed the other
Nazgul wherever they were going.

5. I always giggle when someone says "crack of doom."

6. Legolas? Total fairy. That's not really about me, but I thought you
should know.

7. Sauron and I attended the same preschool. True story.

8. I have a recurring dream where I'm making a speech in front of a crowd and I
look down and I'm not wearing a cloak.



Take that, foul and insipid meme! I believe I have proven myself capable of
handling such troublesome wretches without difficulty. Perhaps one day soon
you will once again see me weilding my blade proudly at the
Mattress Police.



Bah! Such treacly sentiments are unworthy of such as I. I am Grundir
the Implacable. Fear me! And pay obeisance to
my master!

Friday 55 & Da Count-Wanderlust

Mommy, what's on the other side?

People in other countries.

Are they different than us?

Different looks and languages but the same feelings.

The little girl stood silently and thought as the water washed over her toes,

'Maybe there is a little girl standing on the other side wondering about us.

I want to meet her.'

*Image by Bradley J. Mitchell from http://www.painetworks.com/

I was about 5 when I had that conversation with my mother. It's the beginning of my lifelong fascination with different cultures and places. Before I was born my father was in the Air Force so he and my mother spent time stationed in France and Germany. As a child I was always captivated by hearing Mom or other people talk about 'overseas' and couldn't wait for my turn to come. I figured it was a natural progression. I was drawn to anyone who seemed to be from a different place. In college I spent most of my time with the foreign students. For me it was part of my education. What other time and place would I have a chance to get to know folks from a couple dozen different nations all at once? (Well, who imagined blogging back in the 1980s?)

If you read my bike trip series this summer you know I had the chance to see a lot of my own vast country. Outside of the USA I've only seen a little bit of Canada, Bolivia, and Trinidad. I haven't had the chance to do nearly as much travelling as I'd like to do for a lot of reasons. Partly economic, partly the hesitance of some of the folks around me. Wanderlust still has a grip on me though. Going off alone to Texas for a few days reminded me how good it feels to explore a new place and meet new people. My feet are itching to wander. It's one of those sleeping dreams that needs to be awakened.

So tell me...where do you want to go and why? Or where would you take me if I came along?

Halloween HNT

I ran out of time and ideas for an HNT shot this week so I am dipping waaaaay back into the archives from a post I did during the first couple months I was blogging.

Apparently it's a reasonable Halloween choice for me...

You Could Be a Vampire... If You Had To

Like most people, the thought of being a vampire has crossed your mind. But you're not sure if you'd do it, even if you could. Living forever doesn't sound half bad, if you could live forever with the people you love the most. But do vampires even love? And would the vampire version of you even be you? It's all too much to contemplate. Luckily, the chances of you ever becoming a vampire are astronomically low. (Lucky for all of you too, I suppose.) What you would like best about being a vampire: Living forever What you would like least about being a vampire: Blood stained teeth

Could You Be a Vampire?

HHNT!

I Can't Make This Stuff Up

Some weeks I scour all my various sources for weirdness worthy of a post and still come up wanting (and you wouldn't believe the dishpan hands I come up with). Other weeks the blog gods smile benevolently upon me and deign to drop into my lap a gem of weirdness I am in turn compelled to bestow upon you all. Whatever meager offerings I have raised up to the technologically geeky muses of mirth lately must have provided sufficient appeasement (somehow I am picturing Erato chuckling over lines of code) because upon opening an email that was neither spam nor chain mail I was blessed with the following.

My friends, behold The Banana Guard: The Original Banana Protector!

A hushed awe falls over the throng of pilgrims pressing forward to gape at the miracle.

I'll pause for a moment while you try to take it all in. The website assures us it is designed to accommodate the 'vast majority of bananas.' The wonder of this product fully delivering on its promises to maintain the perfection of your banana is certain to be breathtaking. I do feel a twinge of sadness for the unfortunate nanners that fall on either extremity of the bell curve though. What of the plantain? What of the tiny finger bananas? (Makes me wonder if the next product to be hawked will be a banana enhancement herb.) Are they left to fend for themselves in the cruel world of a darkened lunchbox as they are bumped and jostled by the pudding cup and ignored by the PB&J.

The New and Improved Version Two features a locking mechanism that "makes a satisfying snapping sound indicating your banana is well protected." After all, how can one truly revel in the joy of a really fine banana without assurances of the proper protection?

The site offers banana guards in Ravishing Red, Mellow Yellow, Sublime Green, Brilliant Blue, and Passionate Purple. It makes no mention of alternate materials for construction or availability of a battery pack option nor does it indicate if your Banana guard will arrive in a plain brown wrapper. However, we are assured that the new and improved model is designed with kids in mind. I'm not sure if I should be shocked or pleased by this progressive stance.

So hurry up and order your Banana Guard today because there's nothing so disappointing as anticipating that delectable treat only to find a bruised, limp, and mushy banana instead.

Milestones

I'm really not staying on top of things too well here. Believe it or not this was my 500th post. I meant to do something for 500, ah well...pretzels will have to do. As near as I can figure I had my 50,00th visitor sometime during this post or that one. Since I was so late about checking my stats I can't even tell you who that person was. Heck, I wasn't even around for my second blogiversary, although it was incredibly cool to spend it meeting a fellow blogger for the first time.

Actually, it is pretty weird to think I've come up with 500 things to post about (Granted not all those ideas were good, but still it shocks me.) It's downright mindboggling to imagine folks have wanted to come see those 500 posts 50,000 times. So I really need to thank all of you who stop by here regularly to see what sort of silliness I slap up here. I started this thing as a way to stay in touch with some pals from Yahoo! Trivia rooms and to have a creative outlet that cost no money. Now I have over 100 people I read on a regular basis and average 80 people stopping by here on a given day. How'd that happen???

Well, in any event it makes me think of milestones in general. There are obvious ones in life like graduating, landing a first job, getting married, having children. There are surprising ones like finding your first gray hair, the first time you are addressed as "sir" or "ma'am" or the first time something breaks when you own your first home.

I remember as a teenager the first time my mother came to me for comfort and I was the one who had the confidence things would work out. She had worked in a horrid little garment factory for 9 years after Dad left. When my brother and I got to be teens she decided she could squeeze in a few night classes at the Vo-Tech school to gain some computer and office skills. She had walked out the factory for the last time and was working in an office as secretary. Finally, she had some degree of financial security and didn't have to wonder when the boss would decide to cut her rate and screw her out of hard earned pay or when the next lengthy lay-off would happen and leave her counting pennies. Unfortunately, she wound up being-downsized a year or so after landing that job. She came home devastated and in tears. Now you have to understand how rare a thing it was for my mom to ever cry in front of us. She is the queen of the brave front. She was always factual about our finances, there was no secret, but she never let us see her worry. This time she was nearly inconsolable and terrified she'd have no choice but to go back to the factory. I well understood what that meant. At the same time I just knew, and knew with certainty, she'd never set foot in that miserable place again. I told her so. We talked about practical steps she was going to take to make sure her worst fears were not realized. It was the first time I felt like I was talking with her more as an adult and less like her child.

Tell me about one of your milestones, one that was not so obvious but one that you still remember its impact.

6x6 meme

SIX THINGS:
It's Monday morning and I have had to drive one Limelet who missed his bus, I got texted by an older Limelette who needs a forgotten item at school. The cupboards are also fairly bare so I need to get groceries. You get a meme today, but at least I have a reputation for making them somewhat interesting to read. Trust me, there's a payoff today.


1. Name six things in your refrigerator

-A bowl of habanero peppers

-Leftover stewed lentils

-A jar of pickled peppers dating from the Mesozoic Era (Peter Piper did not pick them)

-Some pesto I made last week

-An odd residue underneath the bottom drawer. I think it may be something that could evolve into that monster, Zool, Sigourney Weaver faced in Ghostbusters.



2. Name six things in your freezer

-Ice trays

-Shelves

-Frost

-Some unidentifiable bag of rock hard goo...Frozen Zool?

-Much less venison than 11 months ago, time to get hunting!

-Whatever ice cream carton the limelets have emptied and not bothered throwing away



3. Name six things under your kitchen sink

-Our entire collection of books which spans a section of wall roughly 20 feet x 6 feet downstairs. We discovered when pipes froze and then burst this was not a well thought out location for books.

-A coffee can covered in felt, I think it was an art project one of the Limelets made. Oh be quiet! I didn't throw it away. It is serving a useful function.

-Pipes, which are helpful in draining said sink.

-A basin which functions as a foot bath or a barf bucket as need dictates

-Some very tacky linoleum installed by the previous owners, which does clean up more readily than the bare wood would. It is not, however, as tacky and hideous as the linoleum that was on the floor before we covered it up with some understated and sensible Pergo.

-A supply line for the squirty thing on the sink. This line constantly gets hung up on the shutoff valves for the sink and I wind up having a tug of war with it when I try to use the squirty thingy. Usually the supply line and shutoff valves win but I am stupid enough to think if I just yank harder one day I will win.



4. Name six things around your computer

-A macaroni encrusted mug

-My inhaler

-A stuffed armadillo I bought in Texas because my son once had a weird dream and argued with me in his sleep about his need for a stuffed armadillo upon which to draw. I got him back to sleep by telling him we were all out of stuffed armadillos but I'd get him one when I had a chance. It took several years but I kept my promise. (Yes, we still tease him about the armadillo dream and obviously, he comes by his whacked out dreams honestly.)

-My iPod

-An empty Altoids tin

-A guitar slide

-Blow Pops

-A Christmas ornament Logo sent me in January.

-A beer cooler

-2 pottery things I made in 8th grade

-Postage stamps from Hong Kong, Kazakstan, Belgium, Australia, Brazil, UK, and some country that is on the Euro but I can't decipher the name of

-Broken sunglasses

-A fragment of the Berlin Wall

-A Swiss coin

-A blood pressure monitor

-A bag of empty printer ink cartridges

-Toenail clippers (I think my son left them here but fortunately I don't see and toenail clippings in the vicinity)

-Bandaids

-A stack of books

-The game 'Set'

-An old delivery confirmation slip for some tie dyes shirts I mailed out.

-A heart made out of plastic fuse beads

Yes, I know that's more than 6 things....my desk is a perpetual avalanche threat with a weird collection of items and I got carried away sharing.



5. Name six things in your medicine cabinet

-Toothpaste

-Toothbrush (I saw that 'Mythbusters' episode about toilet spray hitting toothbrushes...ICK)

-Floss

-Shaving cream

-Nail clippers

-Anbesol

Very boring medicine cabinet, my apologies. I keep the exciting things elsewhere, obviously.*




6. Name six things on or around your nightstand

-A lamp with doodles all over the shade, including one of a hunter standing over a bloody deer carcass

-Olive oil body butter

-Tissues

-A box I sewed out of orange batik fabric

-A piece of driftwood

-Dust

* Apparently Diana has located the other 'exciting things.' Here's the conversation that revealed it to me.

Diana: Mom, when you go shopping you should put personal lubricant on your list.

Me: Oh? why is that?

Diana: I noticed you're getting low.

Me: Beg pardon? How would you know that?

Diana: Oh I found where you keep it and I check every so often so I know how often you and Dad have sex.

Me: And the frequency of our sex life would be your business because???

Diana: Well, I need to know what is normal and what is not. If I don't keep tabs on you and Dad I will be forced to go have all sorts of sex myself so I can find out what is normal.

Well, at least she didn't figure out I need batteries on my list too....

Friday 55 & Da Count-Dreams

Long ice cream lines at Mayan temples.

$54 for melted ice cream cone towers when I want a milkshake.

Paco the cook is smarter than the boss.

Next lady doesn't know her flavors, bare hands scooping.

John Cleese takes my family hostage.

I remove my eyeball to get dirt off it.

John's impressed, gives cunnilungus.

Ok, I just know that last line woke you all up after you were scratching your heads wondering what the heck I was talking about. I very rarely have dreams I can remember in the morning but lately I have been having some seriously weird dreams. That whole mess up there is just a quick synopsis of 2 of the more bizarre ones. Sorry, I had nothing else for the 55 this week. Sometimes coming up with a thing to count is tough too. It's not because I am so ungrateful for good things in my life. It's because I want it to be something I can write about in a somewhat interesting way.

No I am not counting the bizarre nocturnal ramblings of my so obviously disturbed mind...I mean really...I have dreams about towers of ice cream cones that are too expensive and melt before I can eat them...then I have a sex dream about John Cleese??? What the hell is wrong with me??? Although I did wake up laughing after each of those absurd dreams....but I digress.

What I am counting is real dreams. I've been wanting to do a post about them for a long time. I've had something languishing in drafts for ages. I've had some real dreams languishing in draft for ages too. I think going to Texas alone gave me time to think about them. Seeing a dear friend marry the man of her dreams, knowing some of the dreams they share, meeting Seamus and seeing how he's making some of his dreams come true, seeing evidence of dreams come true for Signgurl when I got to meet her, hearing G-man say I made a dream come true for him, it all gave me pause.

Some of my dreams were buried alive and I was haunted by the way they scratched beneath their graves. Others were put on a shelf and carefully preserved. They need dusting off. Some new ones have been born and are crying to be fed. I've apologized for some dreams, neglected others, let a few die. I've been overjoyed to nurture a dream of two for others. I still have dreams. This week I'm counting my own dreams and trying to figure out how to give them life.

Invitation

If you are a dreamer, come in,

If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar,

A hope-er, a pray-er, a magic bean buyer...

If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire

For we have some flax golden tales to spin.

Come in! Come in!

~Shel Silverstein

HNT-Layover

If you read yesterday's post you know I had an absolute blast in Texas and a great deal of that was due to the incomparable hospitality Seamus showed me. Silly me forgot to ask to take any pictures with him, but I did take some pictures when I met G-man, Signgurl, and Roxi during my layover in Michigan. What a blast that was.

Signgurl and I both had the same thought to goose G-man when the picture was snapped.

Now I guess turnabout is fair play.

HHNT!

Texas: the Good, the Bad, the Funny

First of all, allow me to thank everyone who left birthday greetings here or at some of the other blogs that put up a post for me. Thanks also to the folks who sent emails or cards and to the ones who called me on my special day. You all know how to make a girl feel loved and I do so appreciate it. It made the day special. Now onto the Texas report...


I KNEW I WAS IN TEXAS WHEN...I heard gentle drawls, was addressed as 'Ma'am' by everyone, and saw a few cowboy hats.

THE GOOD

Texas friendliness. Every where I went I found folks who were beyond friendly. Even cashiers made eye contact and smiled when they spoke. Heck, they spoke to you more than to give you the bill in a flat tone. The drivers were also very tolerant of a disoriented Yankee trying to figure out how the heck to navigate the airport construction and discover the mystery of Texas Turnarounds. Folks were helpful and kind and went out of their way to be polite and congenial. I am sorry to confess, visitors to my part of the world will not find that to be the rule around here. I'll be doing my best not to live up to the reputation for terse iciness that those of us from the Northeast have earned for ourselves but I can't control the rest of us.

The wedding. It was beautiful. This friend of mine has flatly refused at least 4 other serious proposals of marriage. It was a delight to finally meet the man who got an emphatic 'YES!' when he asked. It was a joy to celebrate with them.

Texas flavor. I ate up what I could in the short time I had. Tex-Mex food, Tejano music on the radio (Yes, I tuned into that when ever I was driving....all part of the experience, I figure.) Gruene Hall, the state's oldest dance hall.

The sights. The Art Museum, the Riverwalk, Gruene Hall, the hill country, the Alamo...all fabulous. The very cool thing was when I went to the Alamo they were having a living history festival much like the one I participated in last weekend. I got talking to one of the re-enactors who is a board member of their historical society and he was really excited to exchange information so our group and his can have contact since we cover roughly the same time period.

Blog meet-ups. I had the distinct pleasure of meeting other bloggers for the first time. Seamus was an incredibly gracious host (I just can't say enough about how welcome he made me feel and how much I enjoyed his company) as he took me into San Antonio so we could enjoy the Art Museum and the Riverwalk on Friday. Sunday he showed me around his corner of the hill country. I so thoroughly enjoyed the time we spent exploring and talking I forgot to take any pictures! Thank you, Seamus for all the time you gave and for making the visit so memorable and special. During my extended layover on the way home I planned to meet with G-man and Signgurl. They did indeed meet me there AND they brought Roxi and her pal Croaker too. (Ok, so that falls under 'surprising.') G-man organized the troops and Signgurl made all sorts of food for us to eat. It was DELICIOUS and I can't believe how much work she put into the short little meeting we had. It was a super brief meeting but I am so touched that everyone took time out of their busy schedules to come say hello for the duration of my layover. It was really a wonderful chance to meet them all.

The weather. Perfect...nuff said.


THE BAD

Leaving when 2 kids stayed home sick. I went to my airport while both Diana and Isaac were staying home from school with the same hideous cold I had.

The Highways. The airport roads are all under construction and I was not hip to the notion of Texas Turnarounds until I intentionally got on a road going the wrong way (there were no signs indicating which was the right way to go) so I could find the closest exit and...well....turnaround. Lo and behold, that was what I should have done in the first place! Dang, y'all! Why didn't ya say so? Oh, yeah, my hotel...it was about 30 feet from the interstate....my room...at the end of the building facing the interstate. Hahaha.

Philadelphia Airport. It's dirty and messy. Folks are grouchy. The shuttle to long term parking was driven by an inbred who crammed so many of us in there that three people were literally sitting on the dashboard. Folks, I love Philadelphia. I think every American who can get there should do so simply because of the history of the place, but crap like this embarrasses me as one who grew up near there. Bolivia is the poorest nation in South America and the 3 airports I have been in there ALL beat the Philly airport for cleanliness and service as far as I could see.


THE FUNNY

Isaac. When I announced I was going to Texas he declared with a mixture of concern for my well-being and excitement over potential carnage, 'Mom, you know there are killer bees and tornadoes in Texas!' First words when I called to say I had gotten to my hotel safely, 'See any killer bees yet?'

The reception. It was very short. I knew just one other guest and her husband but we had a good time together....although I did get asked 4 times if she (who is 27) was my daughter...and once I was asked if I had grandchildren. Erm....no...emphatically no, on both counts.

The uber-conservative. After the reception ended quickly 'my children' and I decided to go find something else to do rather than go back to the hotel. We got talking to an older fellow who was glad to share about some interesting things. He then began to decry some of the societal changes that have been thrust upon his Texas paradise and the world in general. He announced, 'We wouldn't be havin' this sorta trouble if they'da hung Ed Sullivan and the Beatles.'


I KNEW I WAS BACK HOME WHEN...I saw a Mennonite bishop and his family all in plain dress and bonnets and heard them speak in Pennsylvania Dutch. I saw a TastyCake truck. Calypso came running down the stairs and threw her arms around me before I could even set my bags down.

I'm Baaaaaack....

Thanks to each and every one for the birthday wishes and wishes for safe travels. I had an absolutely WONDERFUL time. More detailed report to follow sometime tomorrow...

I've been doing this for days ...

I am trying to get better because tomorrow I am getting on one of these...


to go here...

for a dear friend's wedding.

I don't think I will have much if any access to this...
so I probably won't be around until Tuesday (figured if I am buying a plane ticket I may as well take a couple extra days to look around San Antonio).

My birthday and my second blogiversary are on Friday so enjoy some of this while I am gone. Just save me a piece if you don't mind.

If you are so inclined, a few good thoughts and prayers for health and safety for all (Mr. Lime and the Limelets are also fighting similar forms of plague) would be most appreciated. Leaving everyone while we are all in varying states of illness is kind of taking some of the shine off the trip.

A Little Reward at Harvest Festival

During the Harvest Festival each year there are tons of traditional arts and crafts and trades that are demonstrated. We also have all sorts of traditional foods many of which we make in the old fashioned way. I worked at the pretzel booth for the duration of the festival.

My job was to make the dough. Over the course of 2 days I turned somewhere between 50-60 pounds of flour into roughly a dozen huge batches of pretzel dough. Each batch took a lot of kneading to turn it into smooth dough that could rise and then be rolled into pretzels. In between batches I helped roll the dough. It was a lot of work and I came home sore and exhausted each night. A year and a half ago I was told I might not regain full use of my left hand after shattering the radius, dislocating the wrist and elbow, and tearing ligaments at both joints. A year ago I was recovering from surgery to remove the hardware that stabilized the bone. I am beyond amazed and deeply grateful that Janita (that's my left hand) held up through the hard work she was asked to do. That picture right there is both my HNT and Da Count for this week.




After the dough spends time rising, the girls with me rolled out small chunks into lengths that could be twisted into pretzel shapes. The girls worked hard to keep up with demand while doing this tedious job. They told me in addition to tiring of the rolling they got tired of hearing me give the story of how pretzels were invented. You all haven't been tormented with it yet so I'll repeat it one more time.

According to the story, a monk wanted to have a little treat to give his students after they recited their prayers and catechism lessons well. He took dough and twisted it into the traditional shape to remind the children of hands folded in prayer. He called the baked treats pretiola, which means little rewards. They became quite a popular treat and were brought to the USA when Germans migrated to Pennsylvania and other states as far as the Midwest.

After the dough is hand shaped it is given a quick bath in simmering water with baking soda dissolved into it. It's not actually cooked in the water, only dunked until it floats to the top and can be fished out. This allows the coarse salt to stick to the surface and causes a chemical reaction during baking that gives the pretzel crust its nice brown color and the texture we like so much. Originally, lye water was used to achieve the same result but since we didn't' really want to poison our customers or give them cancer we used baking soda.

At the festival we baked our pretzels in the old wood burning stove, which a lot of people found rather fascinating. Given that I was kneading crazy amounts of dough with the sun beating on me from the front while the wood stove blasted me from the back, I just found it incredibly hot. A kindly Civil War reenactor started the fire in our stove about an hour and a half before we wanted to use it in the morning so it could get up to the temperature we needed. We fed it wood through one of the top burners that lifted off with a special handle. We kept the baking soda water hot on top as well as a pot of soapy wash water. You can see from the picture it turned out some pretty nice pretzels. So now for the recipe...

I'll warn you to cut the recipe in half though or you may have pretzels coming out the ears.

SOFT PRETZELS

10 cups flour

2 Tbsp salt

5 cups lukewarm water

3 Tbsp yeast, dissolved completely into the water

1/4 cup vegetable oil

4-6 cups of additional flour

-Mix the flour and salt and add yeast water, stirring together until well incorporated.

-Add oil and stir 200 strokes. (That's what the recipe said, but I just mixed it in with my hand until very well blended...much easier than trying to stir that mess.)

-Knead in as much flour as the dough will take to no longer be sticky. Knead well for about 5 minutes or until the dough is smooth. (Lots of times I mindlessly continued kneading while I was giving my pretzel spiel or visitors were asking questions. It doesn't really matter. It's a forgiving recipe.)

-Oil the surface of the dough and set in covered bowl in warm place to rise for 1 hour or until doubled in size. (On a 87F day it sure didn't take an hour for it to rise properly but if it sits around longer it's no big deal. Like I said, it's a very forgiving recipe)

-Roll chunks of dough into lengths for twisting. (Our were about a half inch thick and about 12-15 inches long)

-Twist into pretzel shape or braid or whatever, the Pretzel Police aren't going to come haul you away if you make weird shapes.

-Place pretzels in simmering water with baking soda dissolved in it (4 Tbsp of soda to 1 gallon of water). Remove when the float to the top.

-Bake for 10-15 minutes at 400F on well greased sheet or until golden brown.

Now fress (eat) up!

Harvest Festival

It's that time of year again when I put on my early 19th century costume and head to the living history farm, which is run according to early 19th century standards, to help with the big festival. Tomorrow I will have a post about what my job was all weekend (complete with recipe). For today I am just recovering so I'm only going to share some of my favorite pictures from the weekend with a brief explanation.

Flowers and rye straw beehive.

Rye straw basket weaver. Rye straw was used most frequently by the Pennsylvania Germans. It was especially useful for mattress stuffing and baskets that would be used for food storage because insects and rodents were repelled by it.


Bobbins for lace making. I don't know how they keep them all straight during such a painstaking process.

Inkle loom. The inkle loom was used to weave thin tapes that would be used as apron strings, drawstrings for clothes or bags, or to tie on straw bonnets.

Griddle cookies cooked over an open fire. Yum.

Recently dyed skeins of wool. The wool is from sheep at our own farm and has been spun and dyed by our own spinners and dyers in the traditional way with spinning wheels and natural dyes.

I turned a head or two when I walked into the mini-mart all dressed up in my farm duds so I could get some money from the ATM for the day.

Da Count-Opportunity

I have two teenagers and a twelve year old. Diana and Calypso are pretty sure they have all of life figured out, as befits their age. Of course, Diana let me know when she was 3 that she knew more than I did. I kid you not. Calypso just knows I can't possibly understand what it is like to be 14 because I came from the womb with gray hair. Isaac is just entering the irascible know-it-all stage. I understand this is all normal. I remember being sure my parents were complete idiots. Now it's my turn and my own abhorrent stupidity and ignorance as a parent grows by the day. When my IQ finally bottoms out I might still be able to dress and feed myself with minimal assistance, if I am lucky.

Now and again when the planets are properly aligned and the tide of raging hormones ebbs temporarily one of my offspring approaches me with a question or for advice. I quickly steady myself before the massive shift knocks me completely off balance. With luck, the Earth turns slowly enough on its axis that the seeker of knowledge actually remains in my presence and open enough to hear my response.

Such was the case last night when Calypso and I were in the kitchen as I tidied up and she made brownies. She asked for clarification on something she had heard and expressed her concerns about it being inappropriate. We talked about it for a while with her asking several more questions and letting me know it was something she'd been thinking about for a long time but was a little afraid to bring up. It was not an issue I was at all upset about but I was impressed that she wanted to evaluate it and not take it blindly. I told her I respected her desire to think things through. Later on she wanted help interpreting a couple poems for English class and we had some more discussion with substance. When she was finished and headed to bed she let me give her a big hug.

At first glance it was an evening of mundane activities but for me it was a rare and welcome opportunity much worth counting.

HNT-Mmmmmmm...

I received a special care package from G-man in the mail recently. It was an early birthday present since I will actually be out of town (headed to Texas, yeehaw!) next week for my birthday (and second blogiversary).

I think he hit the sweet spot with his gift choices!

Mmmmmmm........thank you, G-man!

HHNT

Signs, signs, everwhere are signs

I had to go pay my homeowners insurance the other day. As I stood waiting for a clerk I noticed a sign on the wall that read...

Hhhmmm, my knee jerk response to that is...I will rot away to nothing while the worms feed on me. Somehow I don't think that is the answer the agents are hoping for though.

Then I went to the grocery store where I saw a sign advertising 'Roguefort' cheese on sale.

Now I know Roquefort is made in special bat guano filled caves in France (those French, I tell ya). I just want to ask Lecram and APJ if Roguefort is some sort of cheese produced during a fringe performance in some cave in Fresno.




A friend of mine said he recently went to an orchard with his family. While there they noticed a sign for...

Why do I imagine a woman in stilettos, with big hair and heavy make-up, wearing a tacky leopard print mini dress working the cider press? And do we even want to imagine the kinds of diseases you could get from that cider?





Finally, Margee shared a sign she saw at a local pet shop.

Is the Lord was commanding us to liberate rodents and reptiles in preparation for His return?

Trini Tuesday-FIsh Heads, fish heads, roly poly fish heads

Last week I turned a few stomachs with talk of eating chicken feet in Trinidad and I promised the tale of Dave and the fish heads.

As many of you know, Mr. Lime and I lived there for about a year. We had visited twice before we moved there and since returning to the US I have gone back about six times. After we left we remained affiliated with a local school that was willing to accept students with special needs. We helped provide some scholarships and some training and resources for teachers. During the summer of 1995 we organized a group of three university students to come back with us and work with the school for a short time. We did some surveys of local need and identified some students and families that could be further aided and some of us worked directly with teachers during that visit.

None of the three who travelled with us had ever left the US so prior to departure Mr. Lime and I did some cross cultural training with them. A lot of it boiled down to "Be respectful. Don't criticize or label things as weird or wrong. Be a learner of the culture." We also gave them some culture specific information they would need and walked them through being smart travellers.

Dave was one of the guys who came along and he had, shall we say, a certain passive aggressiveness to him. When we discussed procedures for getting passports and times for team trainings and schedules during travel or cultural norms he always found a way to mildly object or suggest that perhaps we were being a bit too rigid in our expectations of him. He'd show up late for the few trainings we had and not pay much attention or challenge when he did attend. He was pretty sure he'd be given wide latitude since he was American. I would gently but firmly remind him that he was leaving the US, things were different, and it would behoove him to be more flexible in his adaptation to a group larger than himself as well as a new culture.

During one of the briefings on cultural specifics I addressed food issues and the sorts of things they might expect to be served. It boiled down to, "Unless it will endanger your health (severe food allergy or diabetic issues and the like), you are expected to eat what is offered to you. If I hear anyone say 'Yuck!' I will personally drag them out by the ear and beat them in the head. You don't have to like everything or eat a mountain of it, but you have to try it." Dave had many concerns about the potential foods, fish in particular, since he really hates it.

Now in fairness I wanted to forewarn everyone of something fairly revolting they would see cooking but reassure them not to worry. In Trinidad almost everyone has dogs for security. Most people do not buy dog food, they cook for the dog. You can buy 'dog rice, ' which is low grade, nasty looking rice with all manner of crud in it. Into the rice you may add chicken gizzards or livers, chicken heads, fish heads, table scraps, pretty much whatever protein source can be had for as cheap as possible. As the dog food boils on the stove it smells pretty gross and looks worse. I very clearly warned our three intrepid travellers that when they saw this they should fear not, for it was the dog's dinner, not theirs. They breathed a collective sigh of relief.

The day came early in the trip when we were all gathered to lime at one of the host homes. Dear friends of ours and their mother lived on a single property and had graciously agreed to house our three students. We all sat in the yard enjoying sweet drinks (that's soda or pop to the rest of us) and getting to know each other while Nanzo, our friend's mom, was tending to a few things in the kitchen.

Dave excused himself for some reason and came back a few minutes later and asked to speak to me. He went on to describe a pot of dirty looking rice with fish heads floating in it. He asked with an expression somewhere between abject horror and utter panic if he really had to eat whatever was served to him. By this time I was sick of his inability to listen to directions and question everything we had told him every step of the way. I wanted to nip this tendency pretty strongly since being on Trini soil did not seem to curtail it. I also knew he was describing dog food and I confess the evil side of me came out.

I reminded him gently and firmly about our expectations of cultural sensitivity and respect and graciously accepting what is offered. He protested.

I told him how I had eaten chicken feet, how I had managed to get curried goat into my morning sickness plagued belly (I actually do like curried goat when I am not pregnant, it just doesn't go down easily when I am). He pleaded.

I told him he was staying with friends who had adopted Mr. Lime and I as family and if he offended them he was going to have me to deal with. His lip began to quiver and his voice broke as he explained, "But it's fish heads!"

I looked into his eyes and said, "Dave, just this once I will give you a pass. Do you know why?" He visibly relaxed and shook his head. I blasted him, "Because it's dog food, Dave! I told you about this several times because I knew you would be worried about it when you saw it! Now do ya think you can manage to listen to us from here on out????" I think he was about ready to do a dance for joy at not having to eat Trini dog food. He double checked, "You're sure that's dog food, not our food?"

"I'm sure."

"Oh! Thankyouthankyouthankyou! But you're kinda mean for letting me think I'd have to eat that."

"Maybe so, but lesson learned." (Wink and smirk)