September 2007

and I will tell you it might have something to do with one of these two things:

1. For lunch, we had crackers with Boursin Garlic and Herb cheese, Fiber One granola bars (9 grams of fiber, due to freakish amounts of chicory root extract, which is, presumably, very high in fiber, but adds what Derek says is a very “burnt” flavor, which I cannot detect, and confectioner’s shellac, which apparently isn’t an oxymoron, since shellac is edible. I looked it up. It used to be thought that shellac was derived from grinding up the wings of certain beetles, but it’s really a secretion from the female beetle that makes the bark of the tree they live on a little more sticky, so it’s easier to walk on. But in the harvest process of scraping the trees, inevitably some beetles get tossed in too, so shellac isn’t vegetarian, and is definitely not vegan), and a Diet Pepsi. Are you still with me?

Or 2. I was up from 2:30 am to 3:30 am performing my absolute least favorite parenting duty: cleaning up spaghetti vomit from the boys’ bedroom rug while simultaneously encouraging (ordering) the perpetrator to remain in the bathroom with his face pointed at the toilet, to stop crying, whining and yelling, and to try (skip this part if you’re susceptible) to snort out the piece that got jammed into his nasal cavity, causing pain and excess nose running. Curiously, the stuff running out of his nose seemed to have a little more wheat bran than is usual. Also, the poor delinquent has a very developed gag reflex, which makes the whole snorting part precarious. In the end, there was a joyful exclamation, “It came out!” and he went to bed without further ado.

I was, for the first time, really, really grateful for the garbage disposal. I don’t use it often, because of the energy and large amount of water consumed and the fact that it mucks up the water systems (I can’t direct you to where I read this information, sorry, but this will tell you a little), but when you have a towel full of recycled spaghetti, and someone hovering over the toilet, and you just don’t want to stick your hands in there anyway, the kitchen sink with the pig works just fine.

In any case, the stomach pain has ceased, only to make way for a new and exciting headache. Which should have been preempted by the Diet Pepsi, but what can you do?

Here’s another informal poll,

If you could buy a new fridge today, and money was not an issue, which would you pick?

Keep in mind that top freezers are the most energy efficient, bottom freezers are convenient because the normal stuff is at eye level and you don’t have to bend over to get an apple or a carrot, and side-by side fridge-freezers require less opening space, since the doors are narrower, but you can’t put a frozen pizza in them.

Poll SurveyTake Our Poll

Dangit, this isn’t working. I’ll try to fix it.


Derek and I found a house that we thought would suit our family. We met the agent, and walked through the house last week. The more we thought about it, the more we liked it, and the more I got worried that someone else would like it too. Which is a little paranoid, since it’s been on the market since May, and home sales go down drastically in the Fall.

We talked about the pros: it’s cute, the neighborhood is nice, the school is 3 blocks away, it’s 2 story, it has a basement that’s habitable, it’s not weird and gross on the inside, it’s not too expensive, it has a great yard with big trees, it has a porch, it has new windows and roof, it’s not too big.

And the cons: it’s made of asbestos, it needs to be painted every 5-7 years, it has a tiny kitchen, it has no counter in the main bathroom, and that’s all. But those are all things I can live with or change.

So Derek began applying for home loans on Tuesday. We thought it would take a while to get approved, and to choose which bank to use. I had told the home agent last week that we would call him at the beginning of this week, so by Tuesday night, I thought we should at least let him know we were interested in the house. I didn’t want him to forget about us. So Derek called him, and set up an appointment for Wednesday, to talk about options, to discuss the loan process, and to let him know that, even though we don’t have an agent, we’re not naive or stupid (which we actually are).

Derek made a whole bunch of phone calls to different lenders on Wednesday, and found one that would give us a lending plan that would work for our situation (i.e. no down payment, short employment history in Ohio, etc.) He then met up with the home agent, called me once during the discussion to ask what kind of washer and dryer I was hoping for. He came home an hour later, to announce that he had bought the house.

He did end up offering slightly more that the asking price, but that was so they would do a few more improvements, like banisters on the stairs (which is building code anyway, but not necessary if the buyer doesn’t want it), run a gas line to the range in the kitchen, put light fixtures in the bedrooms, remove the tree stump in the middle of the yard, and get some fancy-schmancy appliances, including a new gas range, energy-efficient washer and dryer, refrigerator, and possibly a treadmill. But it’s still a pretty good deal, I think. There’s nowhere else I could have a cute house AND a big-ish yard. It’s a little more than 1/4 acre, which is little, but not as little as most of the other yards in the neighborhood, with their 1/8 acre.

So I wasn’t expecting to own a house when I woke up yesterday morning, but I’m really excited that it’s the house I like. We have to close before October 19th. That’s like 3 weeks!

Derek just came home and announced that he bought a house.

* * *

Compulsive Writer is on a dessert binge, and keeps posting cake recipes, so I have cake on the brain. But no zucchini! What to do?

I’m providing you with my mother’s famous chocolate zucchini cake, because every once in a while, you need you eat your zucchini in the form of dessert. For me, it’s actually hard to accumulate enough zucchini to make this, since I positively love zucchini, especially if it’s little and I can sautée it in a freaking hot pan until it has brown spots, add some salt and pepper, and serve it up with pasta.

Chocolate Zucchini Cake

Preheat oven to 350°, grease and flour two 8 inch cake pans (I think it’s 2, I’m gonna call my mom to make sure, so check back later, just in case).

In a big bowl, sift together:

2 1/2 C all-purpose flour
1/2 C cocoa
2 2/1 t baking powder
1 1/2 t soda
1 t salt
1 t cinnamon (optional)

In another medium bowl, cream together:

2 C sugar
3/4 C butter or shortening

Beat into the creamed butter and sugar:

3 eggs

Stir in:

1/2 C warm milk
2 t vanilla
2 C zucchini, shredded (packed, generous cups)

Add wet ingredients to dry ingredients and mix to combine, so there are no little bubbles of flour. Pour equally into pans, and bake for about 1 hour, until they’re done, that is, when a toothpick inserted almost in the middle doesn’t come out gooey.

Frost this cake with chocolate ganache frosting, chocolate buttercream, or chocolate syrup. I prefer ganache, personally.

Boo-hoo. Boo-hooo-hoooo. Whine, whine whine. Consider yourself warned.

I feel like if I could just lose 5-10 pounds, I would be able to run farther and enjoy it more. If I could just stop bull-dozing every scrap of edible matter in my path, I could lose those crappy pounds. I have no strategy. I keep thinking it would be so easy to simply eat less. And then I get so overwhelmed with loneliness, sadness, boredom, avoidance of responsibility, inertia… that I can’t face the idea of not seeking out any and every simple and complex carbohydrate within a 5 mile radius.

Also, since I started running again last December, after the requisite 6-week recovery period (which for me is actually at least 8 weeks) after childbirth, I haven’t found my groove. I remember running for a couple of hours at a time and loving the freedom, the strength, the meditation, all that goes with distance running. I miss that liberated feeling. I remember the need to brag to everyone I met about my 12 mile run that morning. I remember pushing myself, but having it not be that hard.

Now, I feel like I’m made of cement. My feet don’t want to come off the ground, my legs don’t want to move. My ankles ache on the days I don’t run. My belly pokes out more than it did when I was 4 months pregnant. My stamina is gone, and the motivation to get out and run 4 times a week is severely lacking. I wake up with a headache every single morning. But I do it, and I’m happy if I get in one mile.

When I was closing in on the finish line during my first 1/2 marathon, I came up behind a woman who had stopped to walk. She seemed like she had given it everything she had, and had come up short. I was creeping along at 10 minutes per mile, so as I passed, I encouraged her, “It’s only one mile to go! That’s your very shortest run! 15 minutes at your slowest.” She girded her loins and started shuffling along with me. After a couple of minutes, she said thanks, and took off. I think she beat my by 3 or 4 minutes.

And now, I can barely push myself those 15 minutes. I did make it a whole 30 minutes on Saturday, with a short walk after the first 15, but by the end, I felt hammered. I really, really want to love it again. I want to be able to do 2 hour runs on the weekend. I want to do a 1/2 marathon in the spring.

Can anyone help me?

Update: I just signed up for the Indianapolis Mini-Marathon in May. Anyone wanna join me? Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? 

I just checked my spam queue, as I do sometimes just for fun. Every once in a while there is a genuine comment that’s not X-rated, and those comments are worth the sifting. Well, here’s what I found:

Just a quick note to let you know how your blog brightened our day at the dairy. I work at the Maytag Dairy Farms where we work extremely hard to hand craft the blue cheese your sons enjoyed for lunch. It is a very labor intense and complex cheese to make so was nice to hear that what we do each day here on the farm was savored by your young men.

Thank you,

I poked around, and lifted Myrna’s URL, because of course, I was interested. She works at the Maytag Dairy Farm. I thought it was so sweet of Myrna to post a comment, and I’m so glad I retrieved it. I don’t know why it was marked spam, it didn’t have any extra links or anything. Anyway, the folks over there at Maytag Dairy, they’re nice. And they make some good cheese.

Last night, we took the whole fam to view a house. Up to this point, I have been doing the house-hunting solo, using various internet searches to plan my attack, browsing neighborhoods, dragging friends and cousins along, and hitting open-houses. We don’t nave a realtor yet, nor a loan, but I’ve taken the approach that, since it’s very much a buyer’s market, there’s no rush.

A few weeks ago, I passed a house that I thought was cute. I made a note about it on my increasingly chaotic notes page, and drove on. The next week, I drove by again, and noticed from my car that the house looks vacant. So I got out and poked around. It’s a 1920’s bungalow, not unlike the fabulous house I grew up in. It sits on a double lot, so it actually has a yard, and not a 4×4 foot patch of weedy lawn. There’s an ordinance that prohibits the owner from building on the side yard, so it’s the same yard it has had for almost 90 years.

There is a great big tree in the yard (among a bunch of other big trees) that appears to be a magnolia. I have a particular love for magnolia trees-they make me weep for the beauty of the spring blossoming. There’s a garage in the back that has the original barn-style doors. The yard is definitely big enough for a pick-up game of soccer, a vegetable and herb garden, a compost pile, and maybe couple of chickens. I’m so not kidding. One day, I will have chickens. If you don’t believe me, go read this and tell me what you think.

I took Sheila to the house when she was here, and we poked around again. The neighbor, Nick, came out to introduce himself, and ended up chatting away a good half hour. He told us about the neighborhood, and seems to actually know the neighbors. I think that’s a good sign.

We decided to call the agent and schedule a walk-through, since I had heretofore only peeked in the windows. He met us last night and showed us around. I had to keep biting my lip to keep from gushing about how great this house is. It’s got a few things that are not ideal, including very little counter space in the kitchen, on which to knead my bread, the cabinetry is new and cheap, though not unpleasing to the eye, the side door is on the yard side, not the driveway side, it’s not quite 1400 square feet, there’s a giant stump in the middle of the yard, it’s made of asbestos (solid, though, so no risk of airborne particles), and I haven’t quite figured out where I would put the piano.

As far as advantages: it’s cute. Big yard. Two car garage. Two story. Some hardwood floors that were refinished this summer. Antique fixtures that the previous owner had been collecting, including super-cute doorknobs and some fantastically beautiful light fixtures. Big porch. 3 blocks from elementary school. Nice neighbors. Finished basement. What else? Take a look and tell me your impressions.

Today at lunch, I asked the boys if they would prefer peanut butter sandwiches or macaroni and cheese. We had some leftovers of mac and cheese from yesterday, and I’m talking about the psychedelic orange stuff. Calvin chose mac and cheese, Zeeb wanted a peanut butter sandwich. It was all fine with me.

The only problem with them ordering different things for lunch is that there is inevitably some extra. One sandwich is enough for them both, and half a box of mac and cheese is still too much for just Calvin. So I decided to have the extra for my own lunch. Half a sandwich, and about 1/2 cup of mac and cheese. But what adult can abide that stuff? Plus, since we have no microwave in our mini-kitchen, I had to heat it one the stove. I added a little milk, and put it in a pan. If you’ve ever seen leftover mac and cheese, you know that it turns into yellow noodles with no sauce to speak of.

I decided to try an experiment with the tiny remnant of Maytag Blue cheese that I got last week. I plated up Calvin’s noodles, and then put the rest on a plate for myself. I crumbled up a bit of blue cheese on top, and stirred it around until it was melty and a little creamy. I sat at the table, and caused a curious stir among the little people. I guess it looked appetizing to them.

Each boy asked for a taste. I warned them that it would be strong, and after Zeeb tried it, he asked for some more, so he could be strong like Superman. Calvin didn’t think it was overpowering, nor did he start gagging, like he usually does when he tries something new.

Soon, the boys were asking for bites of plain cheese. Plain blue cheese. A 5 year old and a 3 year old. I have no explanation for this phenomenon, especially since my boys are generally quite picky. I gave them a bunch of cheese, and then tried to put it away. They cried, and begged for more. This from the boys who rejected the fresh mozzarella I brought home two weeks ago. Inexplicable. Although they do like the Boursin garlic and herb sheep’s cheese with crackers.

Also, yesterday at work, Derek met Thomas P. Stafford. You don’t know who he is because you don’t know enough astronauts. Derek sums up his career nicely:

He’s one of 24 people who have been to the moon (i.e. in orbit or on the
surface) <<>>.
He never flew on a shuttle, he took pictures from inside the Apollo 10
module. Apollo 10 was the second mission to orbit the moon and surveyed
the location for Neil Armstrong’s crew to land during the Apollo 11
mission. Apollo 10 was the first to broadcast color TV signals, so the
color footage of the earth during the mission is mostly likely his
(note: the claim that he took the footage only comes from his talk
yesterday, when he said things like “this is a picture I took when …”).


Derek used to want to be an astronaut. He used to be a 10 year old boy, you see. But ironically, he was rejected from even joining to Air Force (during that two seconds he thought it would be a good idea) because of his color-blindness. I say ironically, because he now works for the Air Force and makes way more money than he ever would have by enlisting, works fewer hours, and doesn’t have to get transferred all over the world. Oh, wait. Is that a pro or a con?

Who wants to help me pick out a house?

1. My brother NungNung called today, just to chat.

2. Zeeb has the most musical, delightful laugh in the universe. I can’t help myself from tickling him every singe day, because he’s so ticklish, and he’s guaranteed to rip out continuous, glittering, precious jewels of giggles. If I could bottle the sound, I could bring the world universal peace.

3. A funny doll I acquired while in Mexico in 1980. It’s a girl in traditional dress. My kids have discovered the doll, and love her, so I use it as an opportunity to teach them some Spanish, using funny voices and requiring responses.

4. Rugs. I’m so glad I bought a bunch of area rugs at Target when we moved into this apartment. I’m pretty sure I don’t need to explain why.

5. Sheila. She drove 6 hours to visit me this weekend, and we went to the farmer’s market, the Wool Gathering, and house hunting, while she prepared her syllabus for her American Lit class that started yesterday.

6. Farmer’s markets. The one we went to on Saturday was in Yellow Springs. I bought garlic, green beans, eggplant, tomatoes, watermelon, apples, parsley, basil, potatoes, chinese lantern peppers, and a purple cabbage. I don’t think I spent $20.

7. The Simpsons. Yes, I know I’m a bad parent, because what morally responsible parent plunks her kids in front of the TV and turns on the Simpsons? But honestly, I think it makes them smarter. That’s why I do it. That’s the real reason. I swear.

8. Sunglasses. I can’t believe how painful it is to walk outside into a bright, sunny day. I must be getting old.

9. Jem. I admit my preferences in popular music are quirky at best, infantile at worst, but I really like this album right now. My kids love to dance to it.

10. Maytag Blue. Cheese. So fantastically good with the farmer’s market green beans, some pecans sautéed in butter, and the cheese cut into small chunks and added while everything was still warm. Oh my heck.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Next Page »