bind down from mischief

“In questions of power, let no more be heard of confidence in man, but bind him down from mischief by the chains of the Constitution.”

– Thomas Jefferson

I found the above quote in the comments of a right-wing website’s article about the current administration’s proposed labor law updates.  While quoting notable chunks of the proposal to pull kids [under the ages of 16 or 18] out of dangerous agricultural and non-agricultural work environments, the article sensationalized the story: Obama’s Labor Department Looks To Take The ‘Family’ Out of Family Farms.  There is a black-and-white picture of a girl, straight out of Little House on the Prairie, pouring milk into a larger container among cows, but with a giant red “banned” stamp over it.  The article claims that DOL’s measures will compromise small family farms who eponymously employ the whole family, including children, in their work and may struggle to afford legal, adult labor.  The article, with a Republican agenda, is quick to blame the (Democrats’) Obama administration for any measures that in any way challenge the Holy American Icon of the Family Farm.

In the comments, people ask why attention is being turned to child labor laws, rather than more pressing issues.  Other commenters suspect pressure from labor unions who don’t want a kid stealing work from a “family provider/union member”, though that might just be a pat remark with no substantive evidence in this case.  My first thought is that this reform is in response to Newt Gingrich’s recently publicized opinion that poor, under-served youth need to be working jobs instead of being enabled (to be poor?) by welfare.

Personally, I am a fan of family farms and overall genuinely living—eating, working, playing, etc.—where I live, rather than outsourcing everything to large corporate enterprises that don’t give back to my community anywhere near what they take from it.  This is as much about sustaining the people in my local community as much as it is about the environment and people in my global community (a.k.a. the World).  I am not convinced by the article that the DOL’s proposed updates would actually cripple family farms.  I am also not sure that they aren’t perfectly reasonable in terms of protecting children.  If they aren’t, and if the DOL’s measures are actually “out to get” family farms, I have a hard time saying that it’s aligned with true leftist ideology.  [One commenter said that the Obama administration is an embodiment of "modern liberalism"—HA! If only!]  Instead, I’d say it stinks—nay reeks!—of corporate special interest.

The individual who posted the Jefferson quote thinks it is our government who is over-reaching, but not necessarily the money-mongers who have an unjust, incalculable sway in it and over us.

The government is what we make it, as is any other relationship or community [which are maintained with accountability and communication].  Unfortunately, because we’re a HUGE country, there leaves ever-so-much room for opportunism [greed] to distract from a goal of protecting and providing for all.  While the current modes aren’t working and we may struggle to envision new/better ones, I think we all agree that there needs to be some form of articulated commonwealth (e.g. roads, schools, postal services, etc.).  It seems that conservatives’ vision for our country relies on private religious organizations (read: churches and practicing Christians) to take on this role, you know, in the event that wealth and resources don’t magically distribute themselves fairly to the healthy, happy, hard-working citizens.

They’re sold on a sentimental vision of what America stands for and has been, and with good reason: it’s comforting, immaculate, protected from scrutiny by a thick shellac of nostalgia, and it contains a shred of patriotism, however small, that we all want to cling to.  Of course, I should say that this vision may diverge wildly from your or my vision, or from what actually comprises our country today.

In a conservative vision, people work hard; they build homes, families, and lives through their efforts.  They take pride in their work, live up to their ideals, and act with honor within their communities.  Incidentally, in this vision, Americans are mostly, if not all, white.  They are Christian—maybe Jewish.  They all speak English.  They are straight and cisgendered.  They are homeowners, or will be once they save money.  They date, get married, have children, pets, and family reunions.  They drive cars that they wash on Tuesdays.  They go to church, if only for cardinal holidays, and participate in “American” holidays: barbecue in July, wear costumes in October, carve turkeys in November, wrap and unwrap gifts in December.  They say the Pledge of Allegiance with conviction and pride.  They donate food, clothes, time, and money to charitable causes.  They respect our firefighters, police, and military.  I could go on, but if you’ve ever watched American TV, you prolly get the picture by now.

In this vision—contrary to today’s iridescent makeup of our country—Americans are not Muslim, Buddhist, Hindu, pagan, Wiccan, or atheist.  They are not refugees or immigrants of color.  They aren’t illiterate, even if only in English.  They are not “ethnic”.  They are not biracial.  They are not homeless.  They are not addicts or criminals.  They don’t smoke pot.  They are not HIV-positive.  They are not gay, lesbian, bisexual, queer, transgender, transsexual, polygamous, or polyamorous.  They are not kinky or promiscuous.  They are not anarchist, communist, or anti-capitalist.  They’re not unemployed, at least not for long.  They are not draft-dodgers.  They don’t get divorced.  They don’t have or want abortions.  They aren’t lonely.  They aren’t injured or abused or angry or unhappy.  They are not blind, deaf, or disabled.  They don’t have learning disabilities, mental health issues, restrictive diets, or chronic physical health conditions.  They don’t make you talk about things that make you uncomfortable: politics, religion, climate change, themselves.  They are not any more more than civil—nevermind embracing—of others whose beliefs or practices scare them.

Thomas Jefferson was an agrarian-revolutionist American superhero (that is, if we set aside his racism and slave-keeping).  His vision, as I understand it, of what our country could be is one of highly-educated farmers, all actively shaping and adjusting our government together, while directly working (through farming) to support ourselves and our communities.  I think that in his vision our government was never meant to be the stagnant, impacted institution that it is today, so encumbered by corruption and short-sightedness that we cannot move forward.

I am heartened by the power of Jefferson’s words, and by the conservative commenter’s having quoted them, even if intended to bolster a different perspective than my own.  Hopefully if the quote gets spread around a bit, more and more people will see the meaning I see in it:  No one entity should have so much control over the people which, we would agree, includes the government elect.  In particular, however, I think that corporations have been given far too much power over the people and our collective resources.  Let us use our Constitution and other legislature to bind these corporate entities “down from mischief”.  Let us participate in shaping our government to protect and propagate the commonwealth.

Blogger’s Note:
I wrote this piece back in December 2011 and never posted it.  I don’t feel like it’s as polished as I’d like, or that I’ve delivered any substantial conclusion or insight.  As an informal opinion piece, however, I believe it’s fit for the public and decided to share anyway.

gluten-free spumoni cookies

More adventures in gluten-free baking!  This time, I’m trying some cookies.  I honestly don’t think I’ve made any cookies since the glutenous butterscotch walnut cookies of twenty-ten.  I’ve been focused mainly on cakes and cupcakes.

A week ago, while on a shopping excursion at the Grocery Outlet, affectionately known in these parts as the “Gross Out”, I came across Sof’ella Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Mix.  On their website, it’s listed for $6 per box, but I got it for $3 a pop.  About the mix, the first four ingredients are: white rice flour, navy bean flour, cornstarch, and tapioca starch.  My main sensitivities are gluten (wheat), casein (milk protein), garbanzo beans (chickpeas), and soy.  [This means that the ubiquitous—and inexpensive!—Bob's Red Mill Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Flour, which contains garbanzo beans and fava beans, is not an option for me.]  Beans are notorious for the flatulence that they cause, but I find that smaller beans are not too, um, inflammatory, so I was willing to chance the navy bean flour.

Seeing as it was Spring Break, I had the opportunity to make a “big breakfast”, as per my son’s request, and tried out the box’s pancake recipe.  Now, despite having attended culinary school, worked in restaurants, and made nightly family meals for seven odd years, I still struggle with two basic food preparations: boiled rice and pancakes.  Nonetheless, these pancakes came out surprisingly fluffy and not too burnt, especially considering their lack of gluten!  (The navy beans in Sof’ella’s mix made me a little gassy, but nothing uncomfortable or offensive.)  Needless to say, I went and bought two more boxes!

Over the last couple months, the desire to make gluten-free cookies had been percolating.  I specifically wanted to make ones with cherries and pistachios, like the Italian dessert classic, spumoni.  I planned to adapt a recipe to the newly acquired baking mix, and had the perfect occasion for my women’s group last night.  Here’s the recipe I devised:

gluten-free spumoni cookies

1 c sugar, granulated
½ c (1 stick) butter, soft (room temp)
1 egg (2 might be better)
½ c water
1 T almond extract
2⅓ c baking mix*
1 T salt, pref. large grain**
1 c pistachio nuts, shelled, chopped
1 c dried cherries, pitted – add more if you like!
1 c white (chocolate) chips***

Preheat oven to 375°F.  Cream together butter and sugar thoroughly.  Add egg(s), ¼ c of water, and the almond extract, stirring until smooth.  Add salt, nuts, cherries, baking chips, and baking mix, adding additional water as necessary.  Using an ice cream server, scoop approx. 3T of dough into rough patties.  Place about 2 inches apart on greased or parchment-lined cookie sheets.  Bake for 10-15 minutes until edges are golden.  Let cool on rack or eat hot!

Makes 1-2 dozen cookies.

* I used the aforementioned Sof’ella Gluten Free All Purpose Baking Mix.  Feel free to substitute your favorite gluten-free or wheat-based mix.  If you’re making your own from scratch, don’t forget leavening!

** I used Redmond’s Kosher Real Salt, which you can find at many fine grocers, including Central Co-Op’s Madison Market.

*** I used Ghirardelli Classic White Chips, which are technically not true chocolate.  I chose these because a) the company sticks to fairly healthy ingredients and b) I don’t care a whole lot for chocolate when it’s not by itself.  If you do care for chocolate, I recommend doing a 50/50 mix of white baking chips with dark or bittersweet chocolate chips.  You could even use broken up bits of your favorite chocolate bar!  (I really like the versatility of Cadbury Royal Dark, which is more of a bittersweet.)

How did they come out?  While they were a little crumbly, they were a hit!  There were other women in the group with gluten sensitivities who appreciated having something yummy and safe for their tummies.  Others were impressed that the cookies tasted so good despite being gluten free.  I think that’s always the highest complement of any gluten-free comestible!

baklava, polenta, and spam

Since I’m intrigued by the meme going around facebook, 100 Foods to Eat Before You Die (but I’m not letting anymore Facebook apps in on my deets) I’m participating the old fashioned way:  I found another blog with this list, and I’m going to see how many foods I’ve had.  I’ll bold the ones I’ve eaten, and make copious comments in brackets

I consider myself a fairly adventurous eater, though I’ve never been into the kind of stuff they had on Fear Factor, for instance.  I also consider food as medicine, so I try to avoid excess/unhealthy foods.  I am a bit of a gourmand and most who’ve eaten my food would say a great cook, too.  I hope I score high, so let’s get to it.  My diet has been very different in the last four years than those prior, so it’s hard to remember all the stuff I’ve eaten.  I’m making my best guesses.

1. Abalone
2. Absinthe [Tried to smuggle this in from Prague, but still haven't tasted it!]
3. Alligator
4. Baba Ghanoush
5. Bagel & Lox
6. Baklava [As often as I can!]
7. BBQ Ribs
8. Bellini
9. Birds Nest Soup
10. Biscuits & Gravy
11. Black Pudding
12. Black Truffle [In stuff, but never by itself]
13. Borscht
14. Calamari
15. Carp
16. Caviar
17. Cheese Fondue
18. Chicken & Waffles [Sounds nice]
19. Chicken Tikka Masala [Apparently the bland dish the English came up with in India]
20. Chile Relleno [Grew up in Latino community, but don't think I've ever eaten this!]
21. Chitlins
22. Churros [In Barcelona!]
23. Clam Chowder
24. Cognac
25. Crab Cakes
26. Crickets
27. Currywurst [Never heard of it]
28. Dandelion Wine
29. Dulce De Leche
30. Durian
31. Eel
32. Eggs Benedict
33. Fish Tacos
34. Foie Gras [An incredibly guilty pleasure!  The last I had was at Maximilien. Magnifique!]
35. Fresh Spring Rolls [I think there must be more Thai restaurants in Seattle than any other kind.]
36. Fried Catfish
37. Fried Green Tomatoes
38. Fried Plantain
39. Frito Pie [Uh, thank you, South Texas...]
40. Frogs’ Legs
41. Fugu
42. Funnel Cake [Just once!]
43. Gazpacho
44. Goat [Not that different from lamb]
45. Goat’s Milk [I've had goat cheeses and ice cream, so I count this as yes.  Hate it.]
46. Goulash
47. Gumbo
48. Haggis
49. Head Cheese
50. Heirloom Tomatoes
51. Honeycomb [I think so...]
52. Hostess Fruit Pie
53. Huevos Rancheros [I think so...]
54. Jerk Chicken
55. Kangaroo
56. Key Lime Pie
57. Kobe Beef
58. Lassi
59. Lobster [Tasty, but not worth the cost, in my opinion.]
60. Mimosa
61. Moon Pie [Vending machines make it possible]
62. Morel Mushrooms [Sadly, no ]
63. Nettle Tea [Wild harvested my own nettles a week ago!]
65. Oxtail Soup
66. Paella
67. Paneer
68. Pastrami on Rye
69. Pavlova [It's inherently gluten-free and I hope to try it sometime]
70. Phaal
71. Philly Cheese Steak
72. Pho
73. Pineapple & Cottage Cheese
74. Pistachio Ice Cream [It's my favorite gelato flavor, too!]
75. Po’ Boy
76. Pocky
77. Polenta [A family tradition!]
78. Prickly Pear [Or, as they are known where I grew up, Nopales]
79. Rabbit Stew [But I have made and eaten a rabbit terrine]
80. Raw Oysters
81. Root Beer Float [There's an A&W Drive Through in my family's history!]
82. S’mores [Once or twice?]
83. Sauerkraut [Revile it.]
84. Sea Urchin
85. Shark
86. Snail
87. Snake
88. Soft Shell Crab
89. Som Tam
90. Spaetzle
91. Spam
92. Squirrel
93. Steak Tartare
94. Sweet Potato Fries [I oven-bake these at home, too]
95. Sweetbreads
96. Tom Yum
97. Umeboshi [I love salty/sour/sweet - what a crazy ride!]
98. Venison [Maybe...?]
99. Wasabi Peas
100. Zucchini Flowers [In Italy, no less]

I’m a little surprised by my score: 62.  I guess I’d hoped it would be higher.  Nonetheless, I know there’s lots of new, bizarre, and/or exotic foods I’ve tried that aren’t on this list.  Considering I have countless food sensitivities, I feel I’ve been bold [and/or stupid] enough to try as many as I have.

What’s your score?

about my typewriter

A little over a month ago, I got the notion to buy myself a typewriter.  I’d gone to a book-making event at which I helped type-up some poetry broadsides on a typewriter.  I was reminded of how satisfying—and challenging—it is to type on one of those things.  The typewriter is very straight forward, and affords no distractions from its prime directive: to print words.

I quickly tried to collect as many potential uses for a typewriter as I could.  I was set on having my own, and I needed justification to spend the money.  I could use it for filling out forms, typing up addresses on envelopes, and recording my thoughts, safe from the wiles of Facebook or my email inbox.  I could use it for letters, family memos, or to type out things I can’t print at home; my computer printer hasn’t worked in years.

I could also eagerly, if not cautiously, expose my son to the wonders of the typewriter.  After all, a child his age once used her family typewriter to compose stories and full-on books!  I’d recently learned the haunting story of Barbara Newhall Follett in the Lapham’s Quarterly article, Vanishing Act.  I suppose it was her story that planted the typewriter seed, months prior to the book-making event.

I conducted a search or two on the internet, to see how much a portable, non-electric typewriter would go for.  I found a man named Jim in the Seattle area who repairs and sells typewriters from many eras.  My heart was instantly set on one: a Royal Rugged Quiet DeLuxe, in something of a dusty teal.  At the August Central District Artwalk I sold enough of my wares to afford the typewriter.  I called Typewriter Jim as soon as possible!  Of course, there were schedule conflicts and so forth, which seemed to last an eternity.  Finally, my partner and I drove out to Jim’s place to buy the typewriter for which I’d been lusting.

Jim showed us the idiosyncrasies.  For instance, there is no exclamation mark.  “Hopefully,  you’re not a very excitable person,” he said.  Instead, I have to use the long, straight apostrophe, then backspace, and type a period.  The typewriter is fully mechanical, and each keystroke must be executed with conviction in order to register a good impression.  Naturally, the keys can get tangled up.  (I have since had to learn a new typing cadence that suits my typewriter.)  I was sold, paid the man, and happily began typing during the ride home, right on my lap.

I knew then that I had to name it, name her.  What immediately came to mind was the name Eudora.  It is from Greek, meaning “precious gift”.  That alone did not seem appropriate.  After looking up her serial number on the Typewriter Database, a website complete with animated titles and a MIDI soundtrack, I learned exactly what year she’d been made: 1956.  Then, using the Social Security Administration’s Popular Baby Names service, I looked through names that had been common during that year.  One name stood out: Beryl.  To me, it suggested strength of character and a refined heritage.  Coincidentally, it is also Greek in origin and is the name for a common mineral crystal, which could easily describe my typewriter’s color.

Her name is officially Eudora Beryl; Ebie for short.

I’ve learned that she has several other idiosyncrasies, beyond those that Jim had indicated (or could have known).  For instance, the latch that holds the cover over her keys and ink ribbon isn’t very strong.  If I type too jauntily, this lid pops up!  It’s quite startling!  Also, both the U and the M tend to “hiccup” and advance forward an extra space, but not always.  This has resulted in many “exam ples”, “thou ghts”, and “fru strations”.  Sometimes, the ink ribbon is very sparse, for no explicable reason.  I can alternate between using the top half or the bottom half with a little switch on the front, and that sometimes helps.

She sits in our house, atop a particle board microwave cart that I bought for $1 and painted white.  Ebie is always in her case.  When I want to type, I scoot the cart away from the wall, open the top, and can begin typing without removing her from the case.  Made of reinforced fiber coated in yellowing shellac, her case has a document clip in the top, to keep paper at the ready.  I could pick her up by the heavy black plastic handle and take her anywhere… and she’d work just as well as she does at home.  She is patient, reliable; honest.

When I type with Ebie, it’s almost as if she is her own, quiet entity, in a way that a computer has never been to me.  I find myself franking thoughts in a diction retrofitted for her era, almost as if I’m speaking to her.  It’s “Dear Ebie” instead of “Dear Diary”.  She reminds me, constantly and palpably as I type, what a marvel and a privilege it is to put my thoughts on paper.

Many may dismiss what seems like a redundant artifact from a fusty era, but not me.  Having a typewriter has been a real treat, and something of an honor.  After all, Ebie has taught me a lot.  I don’t have to worry about what font I’m using.  I do have to think about what I’m going to say before I type it, and I have to mean it.  And, by either stamping them out with asterisks, pound symbols, or correction tape, I have to admit my mistakes.  Ebie will neither take the blame or criticize me.  We all have our limitations.

gluten-free feather cake

My partner Adam has two brothers.  The youngest was due for a birthday and there were plans for a cozy lunch at his mom’s house.  I asked if I could bake a cake for the occasion.  They said I didn’t have to but, since I’m no longer among the wheat-eaters, I knew I’d be without dessert if I didn’t!  Their sister-in-law is also gluten-free, so I figured she’d appreciate it, too, if no one else did.

I had planned to turn to my standard: Namaste Foods‘ Spice Cake Mix, a bag of which I try to keep in my pantry at all times.  This time, though, I found I didn’t have it on hand!  When I’d last gone to the co-op, they were out.  I’d opted to invest in a bag of their Perfect Flour Blend.  That was all I had for sweet gluten-free baking, 24 hours before the family celebration.  I had no choice.  It was time to finally test it!

Namaste claims on the bag that their gluten-free flour blend can be used in most any baking recipe.  It made sense to turn to the most traditional of recipes.  My friend Allan recently bequeathed upon me his coveted, first-edition Better Homes and Gardens Cookbook.  No doubt, you or someone in your family has a copy. It’s the one in the red and white gingham binder.  In the Cakes, Frostings, and Fillings section, I found a Nutmeg Feather Cake recipe that looked promising.  With three eggs, the odds of the cake holding together were good.  I altered the recipe to suit my tastes… and what I had on hand.

gluten-free feather cake

½ c (1 stick)  butter, salted
1½ c  sugar, granulated*
1 t  vanilla extract**
3  beaten egs
2 c  Namaste Foods Perfect Flour Blend
1 T  nutmeg, pref. fresh grated
1 t  baking powder***
1 t  baking soda
½ t  (sea) salt
1 c  plain yogurt, pref. whole milk

Preheat oven to 350°F (175°C).  Cream together butter and sugar in bowl until light and fluffy.  Add eggs and vanilla, mixing thoroughly.  Sift flour, nutmeg, baking powder, baking soda, and salt together.  Then add these dry ingredients to the first bowl alternating with the yogurt, a little at a time.  Mix thoroughly, until smooth.

Pour into two lined or greased 9 x 1½ inch round cake pans and bake for about 25 minutes.  Cake is done when a test toothpick comes out clean.  Let cakes cool completely before frosting.

*Conventional sugar is technically not vegan, sometimes containing small amounts of bone meal.  To keep your recipe vegan or kosher, make sure your sugar is specifically marked as such.

**Conventional flavor extracts contain alcohol, which is often derived from a glutenous grain source, like wheat or barley.  If your sensitivity to such ingredients is high, look for flavors specifically marked as gluten-free.  You can also try to make your own, infusing gluten-free vodka with vanilla beans, lemon zest, and more.

***Conventional baking powder contains cornstarch.  To avoid allergic reactions and/or GMO corn, seek out an alternative at your local co-op or fancy grocer.  Similarly, you can make your own using cream of tartar and baking soda in a 2:1 ratio, adding another part arrowroot or potato starch if you intend to store it for later use.

I found that, despite baking fairly regularly, I didn’t own more than one round cake pan.  I poured the batter into a large rectangular cake pan, and then later stacked one half on the other.  That seemed to work fine, especially because I staggered them; the fat, cut edge of one on top of the short, pan edge of the other.  I didn’t want to use frosting between the layers, so I had to devise some kind of filling.  I tried one idea, and it totally flopped, so I’ll spare you the details.  The second idea was better: almond butter mixed with amaretto-flavor sugar syrup.

Ill-prepared as I was, I turned to the dark side: frosting in a can.  There are so many reasons to avoid this stuff, and it’s really not hard to make a tasty, wholesome frosting from scratch.  Nonetheless, there I was, slathering the stuff onto Aaron’s birthday cake.  Truth is, I don’t do well with dairy, in addition to gluten, and wanted to avoid the extra butter.  Since this episode, I have since invested in a tub of Spectrum Organic Vegetable Shortening.  I also don’t do well with soy, so the fact that frosting in a can is hydrogenated soybean oil might seem like a problem… but I pretend that it’s not?

It looked nice.  I sprinkled on some toffee bits and more fresh grated nutmeg.

Anyhow… the cake!  It rose!  Those of you who aren’t experienced in gluten-free baking have no idea what kind of miracle that is!  I mean, most gluten-free cakes and breads rise, but only nominally compared to the glutenous stuff.  This feather cake was truly light and fluffy.  It was, I daresay, the lightest gluten-free cake I have ever eaten!

Also, so often gluten-free cakes compensate with sugar or chocolate.  I so easily tire of chocolate, which is partly why I was so pleased to find the spice cake mix that Namaste Foods makes.  Finally, something quick and easy that wasn’t going to overpower me with chocolate!  And…!  I found out that Namaste also has a mix for blondies!  Blondies, people!  I am so incredibly impressed with this company.

My feather cake, with no chocolate to hide behind, was still delicious.  It easily stands alone with vanilla frosting, while still able to complement stronger flavors.  I’ve since paired it with a vegan lavender vanilla frosting, and it was di-vine!  Below is a recipe I came up with when I first tried to make frosting without butter.

vegan lavender vanilla frosting

¾ c  Spectrum Organic Vegetable Shortening
2½ c  organic vegan powdered sugar*
5  heads of lavender flowers
2 t  vanilla extract
¼ t  (sea) salt
2 T  water

Using hand mixer, lightly whip half of the shortening.  Add lavender, vanilla, and salt.  Gradually sift in the powdered sugar, one ½ c at a time.  Add water and shortening as needed, to smooth and lighten the consistency.  Take care to not over-beat the frosting.  Makes 2 c.

*Conventional powdered sugar contains cornstarch.  To avoid allergic reactions and/or GMO corn, check the organic options at your local co-op or fancy grocer.

Those of us with non-mainstream diets often struggle to find foods that treat our taste buds as kindly as they do our bellies.  I know that struggle sometimes makes me lose my appetite.  I was so excited to discover this recipe, because it made me feel like I didn’t have to sacrifice so much.  It’s not perfect, though.  Eggs, cow dairy, and conventional sugar, as well as soy and chick peas, are still irritants for my belly.  I know that some of you have even more restrictive diets.  Ideally, I want a recipe that contains no irritants at all.  When I find something better, I’ll be sure to share!

less is more

I feel the faintest guilty twitch of hypocrisy typing the title of today’s post since, despite the small footprint of my urban one-bedroom apartment, I do have a lot of crap. Of course, it’s not all crap… just some of it.

Much of my household is filled with things that I acquired for free; gifts, “free couch” scores, hand-me-downs, Freecycle freebies, or castaway treasures from the streets of Seattle. Lots of other things have been inexpensively sourced from various thrift stores, Craigslist, Target, and IKEA. [I have a weakness for IKEA.] I am a self-confesséd “stuff person”.

I do, however, have scruples about technologies. Part of this is motivated by my finances, true. If I had more money, however, I don’t know if I’d buy any of the things I don’t have right now. I guess it depends on how much more money I had?

One of the things I don’t have is a television. When I did, living with my son’s father some years ago, I watched a lot of the Food Network. I was always in accord with Alton Brown‘s anti-single-use kitchen gadget policy. Why buy some ultra-specific—and often pricey—kitchenware when you could use a simpler, cheaper tool that had plenty of other uses?

In a similar spirit and, yes, somewhat out of financial necessity, I challenged myself to live without certain “basic” household technologies when I first moved out on my own. For example, I never procured a vacuum cleaner. I kind of got tired of it but, the first year, I used to take my rugs out and beat them. I shit you not.

It wasn’t just about the expense or the space. It was about really living my life, living in my body and using it (rather than machines) to do the things that needed to be done. I think gyms are just plain foul, and a sad sign of the times. I’m adamantly bent on living without them.

Between my election to ride my bike rather than drive my mini-van and to shake out my rugs rather than vacuum them, I had the most amazing upper-arm muscles I’ve ever had! Out of the same Luddite defiance, I tilled my gravelly, reclaimed-parking-lot garden plot with a hoe and a lot of determination. It was so exhilarating, I’ve done it again every spring since then.

On my way home from downtown the other afternoon, I saw an old upright vacuum cleaner on the side of the road. It was kind of like an old Kirby, but you could tell it wasn’t as luxe, though clearly in good condition. It had the same heavy, cast-metal sucker snout, and a bag made of upholstery fabric hooked up just under the handle. I was surprised to see it on the side of the road, and wondered if it was truly free for the taking, as I suspected. I got off my bike and inspected it. I touched the handle, lifted it to feel it’s weight, but then decided not to take it.

Why? One major reason was the conveyance home. Although I have carried plenty a large and/or awkward thing on my bike, I wasn’t quite convinced I really wanted it. The old burrow has been feeling a bit cramped lately, what with a growing boy and all my precious, ever-multiplying stuffs. I questioned where I could actually keep it.

Another reason for turning down a perfectly good (and adorable) freebie was that I was at all in doubt. It’s so much sweeter to have things you really want, no matter what you paid for them, rather than stuff you’re indifferent about.

The clincher? I’ve gotten this far without a vacuum, and I’m kind of proud of it.

And besides… I can always borrow semi-annually from a neighbor if I’m really hurting for a good home-sucking.

I think it was the above incident that compelled me to tweet about all the modern gadgets and such that I surprisingly live with out.

Then, I thought I’d make a chart about it… ’cause that’s how I roll.

things i don’t have	things i use instead
TV	DVDs, YouTube, Hulu, my rear windows
iPod	radio, CDs, cassette tapes, Pandora, iTunes, quiet
iPhone	computer, wall calender, digital camera, brain
smartphone	dumbphone
laptop	desktop computer, thumb drive, [paper] notebook
dishwasher	me
microwave	oven, stove top, bain-marie, culinary skills
vacuum	broom, carpet sweeper, dim lighting
bathtub*	sink, shower, neighbors’
credit card	debit card, piggy bank

~andrea

*I realize a bathtub isn’t technology, per se, though it is something I live without.

a brief update

It seems that many months have passed since my last post. I can’t say that so much has happened since then, at least not externally. I’ve spent some time drawing in, trying not to emotionally over-extend myself. This has and has not been a success. I seem to be only so immune to loneliness, which is to say nothing of the incurable existential loneliness I have even in others’ company.

I am preparing for a cozy holiday craft sale in a little over a week. I’ll have for sale many of my plush creations and hopefully some other thoughtful surprises in paper and cloth.

I shall drag my feet through this holiday season, it appears. I have so little enthusiasm for decorating, cooking, celebrating, and yet an aching, pressing need for cheer and significance. Tonight, I put invitations on neighbors’ doors to participate in a building-wide Secret Santa gift exchange.

2010 will be drawing to a close soon and I wish I had more to show for it, and not just in terms of blog entries.

My heart is tangled and petulant. Would that I could soothe it and bring it some lightness.

makeup? yes, makeup.

This all started a couple days ago when my son got into a tube of my lipstick.  I had to give him props as he quite successfully destroyed it.  Most of it ended up jammed into the far end of the cap, with a good percentage smeared across his face, more than covering his lips.  It was an old tube of Prestige Classic Lipstick in Heartbreak, which is a bright red.  I don’t remember where I bought it.

Anyhow, it reminded me of how much I like to wear red lipstick, and that I would like to do so more often.  I suppose my motto with lipstick is kind of “all or nothing”.  I’m either going to wear nothing (or something that is barely noticeable) or I’m gonna go with a full-throttle red.  Typically, I go with nothing, or maybe a daub of Burt’s Bees Lip Shimmer in either Rhubarb or Cocoa.

A little less than a month ago, my friend Charlotte invited me to her place for a MaryKay party that her friend was hosting.  It’s been years since I was part of a church family, so such invitations are very rare these days.  My son was along for the ride and he mostly made mischief and played with Charlotte’s daughter.  He also tried on some mascara; so did I.  I hadn’t worn mascara since a brief stint in high school; this time I found it to be quite stunning.  It was also frustrating, however, because of how it made all the otherwise thick and evenly-spaced lashes stick together.  Boo.

In one of those “I’m a grown-up, aren’t I?!” moments, I resolved to buy myself a tube of mascara, though not from the MaryKay catalog.  I went late one night to the Safeway across the street and labored far too long over which variety I’d buy.  I wasn’t even at a full drugstore, but it seems there are an inordinate number of choices on the mascara market.  The choices revolve around color (several kinds of black and brown), brush shape, waterproof or not, and what kind of false promise you’d like to buy into: volume, length, volume and length, etc.  As with anything, there is the full spectrum of packaging and pricing to contend with, too.

I found I just couldn’t go with the classic pink and green Maybelline tube, for some reason.  There are now these sexy new silicon mascara wands, which come in exciting colors, and I was plain seduced.  I think I chose “definition + length” as my false-promise-slash-mascara-objectives.  I finally decided upon Maybelline Define-a-Lash Mascara in non-waterproof Brownish Black.  It cost more money that I would like to admit, though it was certainly not priciest one available.

Aside:  Makeup, why are you so freaking expensive?!  I realize I could just lower myself back to the Wet’n’Wild echelon, where products range between a mere one and three dollars apiece, but I think I’m finally above smearing tinted castor oil all over my face.

My review? I wish I’d gotten the classic brush-style wand.  I don’t know if it would’ve been better, but it would’ve cost less and not wiggled about so much.  Maybe it wouldn’t leave specks of mascara on my lashes either.  So instead of a heavy look, I only put on a little bit, which is all I really wanted in the first place… I guess.

Now that my son had defiled my main red lipstick, and my backup tube of Jane Lipkick Rich Color in Firetruck wasn’t doin’ it for me, it was time to invest in something that would.  Today, I brushed on some of the last of the Prestige lip color for the day.  I read over a couple Google findings.  I clipped a coupon for a dollar off any Rimmel makeup product.

After I picked up my son from preschool, we biked over to what I thought was a RiteAid.  It turned out to be a Walgreens.  Fine.  I located the Rimmel London display and found a two-step color that I thought would do the trick.  I asked the woman behind the cosmetics counter if she had any recommendations.  She directed me to the CoverGirl Outlast lipstick, which is well-praised in one of the articles I read.  It was, however, more expensive and the package contained less actual makeup than the Rimmel one did.  Also, none of their reds quite matched what I had in mind.  I have a pale, olive complexion and need a red that errs on the orange side, not the violet.   I was also going for something really rich and dark, toward blood- and brick-reds and away from cherry or candy apple, while still reading as “red”.  So, after much ado, I chose the Rimmel Kiss & Stay Lip Gloss in Cherry Blossom.

I also wanted to get a good lip liner, to help prevent feathering, which is both common and criminal for red lip color.  I didn’t know if I wanted a brick red or a nude.  I asked the cosmetics attendant for a brand suggestion and she pointed me to a Revlon liner that was also more than I wanted to spend.  The L’Oreal Colour Riche lip liners were on sale for $5 a pop, and I opted for one in [look away] Eternal Mauve.  Just FYI for the ninny who named it: It’s not mauve.  It’s more like “antique rose” or, hell, “salmon contusion”.  Someday, I will get paid to name colors…

My review?  Fantastic!!  Others might complain about dryness of the pigment step of the Rimmel lip color, but I love how secure it is!  The lip liner I put on first was almost unnecessary.  Add a juicy coat of clear gloss from the other end of the tube, and it’s just brilliant!  The red is the absolute perfect shade for me, and I’m really happy with it.  It’s dark enough that it contrasts rather than highlights the spots and imperfections on my face.

Of course the gloss rubs off but, outside of hardcore eating sessions, the color stays put.  I ate a bulky chicken burger for dinner and, while a good deal of it came off on my food, I needed only a very tame touch-up afterward.

About the lip liner, I must say that the color choice was a good call.  It matches the natural blush of my lips well, so I’ll also be able to use it by itself and under the more natural, subtle lipsticks that I have.  I was careful to choose a liner that is not a wood pencil, but the plastic, twist-up kind.  This one has the extra bonus of a tiny sharpener built-in in the end to bring the tip to a clean point.  With such a mellow color, this isn’t a big deal, but good to know if I ever want to get a dark red, like I had originally intended.

So, yeah… makeup!

alternative baking

Today, I made my maiden voyage into the land of baking sweet things that I can actually eat.

Now, in the not so distant past, I’ve made a crushed-cereal crust fruit tart and a Passover sponge cake, but I don’t think those really count.  The stakes were too low.  Today, I actually followed a recipe, from scratch, with my own dubious substitutions, and ventured to make food that will not make me feel like shit tomorrow.

Over the last year, a host of food sensitivities have surfaced.  I say “sensitivities” rather than “allergies” for a few reasons.  The first reason is that I’ve never been tested; my list is of trial-and-error best guesses that I have narrowed down with less than diligent experimentation.  Considering there’s been no clinical research on my particular case, and I didn’t use to have these sensitivities, I have no idea what’s causing them… That’s not true; I have lots of ideas, but no proof than any of them are true.  My current speculations are that they are a result of a year plus of chronic life stress and the increasing number of foods being genetically modified and so forth.

The second reason is that while some foods very obviously make my life suck when I ingest them, I don’t go into anaphylactic shock or break out in a rash of gory hives.  My main symptoms are, in no particular order : general malaise, unrelenting fatigue, abdominal discomfort, constipation, other GI complications, noxious flatulence—a.k.a. “silent but deadly farts”—the like of which I cannot even blame on someone’s dog.

The foods I hold suspect are in two general groups : probably bad and really bad.

In the really bad group are : cow milk, lactose free cow milk, cow milk yogurt/kefir/buttermilk, soy milk yogurt, cow milk ice cream, most cow milk US cheeses, wheat, soy-based faux meats, (instant, sweetened) oatmeal, peanuts, Spam.

The probably bad group is made up of foods that also seem to have a negative affect, but only when in large quantities and/or frequent intervals.  It includes : cow milk butter, cow milk heavy cream, chicken eggs, refined sugar, (glutinous?) oats, salami & sausage, many four-legged meats, soy milk, refined sugar, cruciferous vegetables, beans & legumes, onions, fresh garlic.

Now, let’s try to bake !

I bought a bag of butterscotch baking chips from the grocery store last week, for a semi-safe indulgence of my sweet tooth.  I noticed a recipe for butterscotch walnut cookies on the back and thought I might give it a go with my recently acquired spelt flour.  Spelt, while not wheat, is an old cousin to wheat, has gluten in it, and isn’t on my guaranteed “safe” list.  I’m hoping that because it’s not as widely farmed as wheat, and this batch is organic and unbleached, it might work out okay… I’m not sure if it’s the gluten or the wheat that’s hurting my belly.

I also have some rice flour and masa, which is finely ground corn treated with lime, used traditionally for corn tortillas.  I have almond milk to replace cow milk, though the recipe promises I could use water.  I have a little bit of ground arrowroot which, I think I might bust out for the occasion… or not.

Yesterday, on a trip to the co-op, I bought my first duck eggs.  They’re open stock, so I bought three : two for the recipe and one for fun.  I spoke with the gal stocking the eggs and she said that duck eggs are more rich and, well, gamy than chicken eggs.  She attested to like them, but warned that many people do not.

So here’s the recipe I ultimately followed :

butterscotch walnut cookies – adapted

1 c packed brown sugar
½ lb (two sticks) salted butter
2 duck eggs
3 T water
1 t vanilla extract
¾ t salt
¾ t baking soda
1 ½ c spelt flour
½ c rice flour
½ c masa (fine corn flour)
1 c chopped walnuts
1 11oz. pkg butterscotch baking chips (we’d already eaten about ¼ of it)

Preheat oven to 375°F.  Cream butter and brown sugar.  Mix in eggs, water, and vanilla.  Then mix in salt, baking soda, and all flour.  [I added maybe 2 T agave nectar because it seemed a little dry.]  Mix in walnuts and butterscotch chips.  Spoon out with ice cream scoop onto greased cookie sheet (or Silpat) and bake for 11 – 12 minutes.  Let cool 2 – 5 minutes before handling.

I haven’t finished baking off all the dough, so I don’t know how many this recipe makes.  I’m guessing you can get at least two dozen this way.  As the grocer promised, the duck eggs add a gamy aroma which, along with the nuttiness of the spelt flour, somehow makes sense with butterscotch and walnuts.  It wasn’t what I expected at first, but it was still yummy and satisfying, especially hot from the oven!  I wouldn’t do this with chocolate chips, however, considering the rigidity of my taste-expectation of standard, bleached all-purpose wheat flour chocolate chip cookies.

The real test is how I feel, or rather smell, tomorrow.

what I do best

My life is not what I want it to be.

What is it that I would change if I could?

What can I change?

I’m starting to feel an insatiable itching, aching, chafing surface.  It has been compared before, but it is not unlike that of a scab that is just about ready to come away from the skin.  I am so, dare I say, disgusted with my life, my surroundings, the status quo.  I want to slough it off, like a giant, pus-crusted scab.

There are things that I want to keep, of course; not all of it is to be counted as chaff. My son, for instance, is perhaps the one thing I would keep through everything, regardless.  He is my flesh, reconstituted with a new spirit, and I have a profound attachment with, duty to, and love for him.  As much as my will can prevail through it all, I want him with me, and to be with him.

Aside from that, there are a few pieces of clothing and artifacts of my former vestiges that I would like to keep.  There really isn’t anything more.  There are many things I have that I like having, but could be replaced with things of similar value and function, such as my computer monitor, my collection of paper lanterns, my dishes, etc.

My metaphysical skin, the fabric of my being, is positively crawling with unrest, lack of fulfillment, and need for some drastic, solvent change.  I am seasick with the unevenly heated mélange of thoughts and feelings I experience at any moment : I am sad, exhausted, livid, content, gleeful, crabby, inconsolable, discontent, stymied, etc.

What kind of change can I possibly affect on this life that feels so stuck?  I am not finding fulfillment among my friends and acquaintances.  I am not finding community whenever I outreach for it, both as leader and recipient.  I am not finding adequate support to bring up this precious gem of a child I have the duty and honor of stewarding through his first decade or two on this earth.  I am not finding safety and warmth with the people I call family.  I am not finding an intimate partner with whom to weave a synergistic legacy.  I am not finding financial stability and sustainability.  I am not finding comfort, joy, and ease in my home.  I am not finding reliable pleasure and positive feedback from the employment I undertake.  I am struggling to stay invested in personal projects I create for myself.  I am struggling to stay hopeful and/or find direction for how to push my life forward, in a direction toward the life I would like.

It so often feels barely enough, and when it doesn’t , it feels like struggling, scraping, yearning, aching…

I don’t know what I can change other than that which I have already tried to change, with scant results.

I am gasping for breath, aching in my bowels for nourishment, thirsting with a parched and scaly heart for love and joy.

I know nothing else but to desire what I desire.

I pray that I can devise the magic to transfigure this hypodermic crisis of mine.