Yummo Squalenkale Soup

Yes, Squalenkale.  I've decided that's its name.

6c water
2 veggie broth cubes (I use the Knorr ones)
2c red lentils
1 square o'frozen squash (10 or 12 oz usually) thawed in a bowl in the microwave
2c frozen chopped kale
1 tsp yellow curry powder
2tsp garlic powder
1tsp 5 spice
salt and pepper to taste

Bring the water, broth cubes,curry, garlic and 5 spice to a boil.  Add in the lentils and squash, stir well, reduce heat, and simmer 30 minutes.  Add kale in the last 10 minutes of cooking.
Serve with hearty bread!

I'm just gonna drop this off.  *walks off whistling*

ANSWERING SERVICE OPERATOR’S MANIFESTO

WHEN YOU CALL A PLACE OF BUSINESS AND GET AN ANSWERING SERVICE:

Just a few Helpful Pointers from the other end of the phone. Also, Swear Words Here. Be Ye warned.

1. TRIM THE FAT

Know that I paraphrase. I am often given less space than a tweet to get your message across. An entire 10 minute story about how you stubbed your toe two weeks ago and the toenail lifted up and there was a bruise and they gave you medicine and now you think it might be giving you a rash and making you throw up is going to be condensed into 4 words. i.e.: MEDS ISSUES- RASH&VOMITING. 15 minutes on how there’s poo on the floor tiles, patterned shower curtain and matching towels in your master bath will become SEWAGE SPILL-MASTER BATH when I am done with you. I care little for the progression of events; tell me what is at issue NOW.

2. HANDLE YOUR SHIT.

Please, for the love of Deity, have your information and pen and paper with you. I may have to refer you to call someone else at times. Be ready to write down a telephone number. I have shit to do. I do not want to “hang on” while you get a pen, run out to the car to get your paperwork, find your account number or FOR THE LOVE OF DEITY call your fucking spouse to find out what your child’s fucking date of fucking birth is. If you find yourself needing to do any of those things, hang up and call back. I can almost guarantee I will still be here.

3. NAME-DROPPING

“I know so-and-so who knows so-and-so who knows the owner of the business…” Wow. Yeah, um, this may surprise you, but I don’t care. In the slightest. Really, I have no fucks to give about who your mother’s sister’s cousin’s former roommate is or how much stock they own in the business you just called. Your message will get handled promptly and correctly, JUST LIKE EVERYONE ELSE’S. If the fucking POTUS* called this business his call would get handled the same way. Just sayin’. Which brings me to…

4. PROFESSIONALISM

I am, astoundingly, a professional. I answer your telephone call at all hours (there are 24 in a day and I or one of my coworkers can be reached all 24 of them) and dispatch it to the proper person. Promptly. That is my job. It is What I Do. It is NOT my fault if a.) they can’t be bothered to return phone calls. or b.) you are such a pain in the balls that they don’t or won’t call you back. You yelling at me, calling me names, and/or telling me what pieces of shit the people you just called are is not going to get your call delivered any faster.

5.) YOU’RE STRESSED. I GET IT.

I still need to do my job and handle your issue correctly. With as much information as they ask me to get from you. Do Not tell me I don’t need a particular piece of information if I ask you for it. Cuz I do. Your (insert business here) has given me a form to fill out when you call looking for them and get me. This form has spaces for all the information they want to know when I text/email/call/light the bat signal. FYI: Should you refuse to give me something I ask for I MUST document that. Think, before you get hateful and spite-y, about how your message is going to come across.

Name: ANY O. CUSTOMER

Acct#: REFUSED

Phone#: 123-456-7890

Address: REFUSED

Regular Widget Handler: REFUSED

Message: Thinks you are a crappy widget company and wishes you would die in a fire, but needs 2 gross of widget # 9876598.

Don’t sigh and suck your teeth at me when I ask you to spell your name either.My name is not Merriam OR Webster. I can’t spell Siebold Adelbertkreiger off the top of my head without help. (OK, I can, that one, but YMMV**) Rattling off your phone number at lightning speed is simply going to cause me to ask you to repeat yourself. Subsequently, I cannot have the on-call person call you back if you don’t provide your phone number.

6.) BE REASONABLE.

Should you be calling after normal business hours, be certain you are calling about an EMERGENCY or URGENT situation. Your apartment complex maintenance folk are not going to come out at 11pm to help you hang curtains. (true story bro) Don’t be surprised when I can’t make you a dentist appointment at 3 am. Don’t cuss me out because there’s no one on call for your trash service at midnight. Be aware that I may be getting someone out of their bed to attend to you. Give them a reasonable, sane amount of time to return your call. 30 minutes (with some notable exceptions***) is not unreasonable. If it is, then mayhap you should be calling 911, not me. Asking me when someone is going to call you back will always get you the same answer, to whit: “As soon as I can get the message to them.” This means you have to fucking hang up and stop asking me when they will call you back so I can GET the message to them. Additionally, give service technicians making house calls time to get to you. If you, or the tech on call, live in East Bunglefuck Backofbeyond and there’s a blizzard on, it may take a while to get to you.

7.) ANSWER THE PHONE.

You just called. I told you someone would be calling you back. In some instances, I even gave you a time frame in which to expect the call. Yes, I know life happens. So when you call me back saying you missed the call once, ok. But the third or fourth time in the space of an hour I have to page your issue out because you didn’t answer the first 3 calls? Don’t be surprised if the on call person has given me instructions that they are not going to call again. To them, and to me, your issue gets less urgent every time you don’t pick the phone up. Harsh, but true.

8. SOMETIMES, I CAN’T HELP YOU.

I do what the business who is MY customer asks me to. If they don’t want me taking appointment cancellations or “can you have Person A call me at first light” messages, I won’t. I can’t. Not even for you, O Special Snowflake. Shocking, I know. You did all that name-dropping in the beginning of the call and I still won’t take your message because I keep saying I’m not allowed to. Whatever will you do now? You’ll have to gasp Handle Your Shit! You’ll have to remember to call them during business hours! Which, if you ask, I am happy to provide.

9.) EVEN I HAVE LIMITS

I will only put up with so much. It’s a lot, but there is a cap. Start calling me a fucking idiot and discussing my ancestry and hygiene habits, and I will ask you once, politely, to stop. Continue, and I will document that you did it and HANG UP ON YOUR ASS. And no, I’m not lying. And no, you can’t deny it, because your call was recorded. And yes, I will be telling the business you were calling about it. Oh, and news flash: prank calls are so passé. I have caller ID, the call has been recorded, and the number to the local PD in your area is not but a Google away.

In summation, act like a grown up when calling a business. There are real, live people on the other end of the phone.

No Love,

Me.

* President Of The United States

** Your Mileage May Vary

*** Hospice nurses. 10 minutes tops.

APPENDICES TO THE ORIGINAL MANIFESTO:

Appendix #1:

YOU ARE NOT SPECIAL.

No matter what your *insert loving caretaker here* told you. I cannot “call the back line” to your doctor’s office for you because you think you are a special snowflake. That line is reserved for other doctors and medical professionals, not for some dumb schmuck who has decided they are more important than the rest of the universe. I cannot contact someone other than who is on call just because you’re too important to talk to who is. See #3. And for those of you using the rewards programs? No, I can’t fix your expired points. They are expired. No amount of whining, moaning and complicated stories about how you moved from West Gazongstahaven to North Overshoe and forgot to change your address so you didn’t know your points were expiring will change that. Especially if you get your points statements by email. I can see that, y’know. The points are gone. That’s kinda what “expired” means, innit?

Appendix #2:

TAKE THE DICK OUT OF YOUR MOUTH

Stop eating whatever that is that you are chewing in my ear. You sound like an industrial threshing machine for fuck’s sake. Speak clearly. Enunciate. I, of all people, am fully aware that American English is not everyone’s first language. Take your time and try for clarity. There is nothing so frustrating as trying to decipher 10 digits rattled off at speeds that would make a machine gun blush with a thick as peanut butter (you eat what you like…) Wheresowhatsian accent. Take me off speakerphone, because I can hear everything going on around you. EVERYTHING. Turn the goddam-noisy-box down off of the 999 decibels of Monty Jessica Springer I can hear behind you, push the pause button on the Bitches N’Hoes or Fast Train to Hicksville track you have playing so loud the bass is vibrating me from 4 states away, or the twang is snapping my bra strap, and put the fucking dog out. Y’know, so you can Handle Your Shit. (See #2)

And put the damn bong down. I can hear that, too.

Appendix #3:

IS YOU IS OR IS YOU AIN’T?

It’s a simple question. “Is this an emergency?” If I ask you that, I am required to. Do you need me to wake someone, or can this wait until office hours? Make A Fucking Decision. More often than not, the response I get to that simple question is “Well, I’m not sure…” ARGFLARBLEGRAH!! You fucking called me at 2:47 am and you’re not sure whether it’s an emergency? And don’t ask me if I think it’s an emergency. I’m not the one with a case of the galloping nevergetovers, the maggots in my carpet (this time) or the motor oil seeping from my ceiling.   I don’t HAVE to make this shit up, folks. Just you remember that.

Appendix #4:

ONE AT A TIME, PLEASE.

If you are on the phone, be on the phone. If your spouse, partner, auntie, grandpa or spirit guide wants to talk to me, kindly ask them to Wait Their Turn. It’s very distracting to have 2 (3, 7) people talking to me at once, especially if one of them is screeching from across the room.

Appendix #5:

YOUR CALL WILL BE ANSWERED

I promise. Even if I have to put you on hold for a minute. Or 5. If you hang up and call right back, I will put your ass on hold again. Not out of spite, out of necessity. Usually, if I am answering the phone when you call, I am here alone. All by me onesie, answering for the hundred-odd businesses that are our clients. If I put you on hold the fist time, I was fucking busy. I am still fucking busy 3 seconds later. Deal.

Understand that I may a.) have 37 calls that came in before yours, or b.) have more urgent calls than yours. Sorry, hospice patient with a fever trumps calling at 1 am to get your trash picked up the next day.

Appendix #6:

SPEAKER O’ THE HOUSE

While I appreciate that not everyone in the world slings the same lingo, (see App.#2) please choose your translator carefully. It may behoove you to wait to make your call, if possible, until there is an English-speaker around that is over 10 years old. Speaking for the 4 year olds of the world that have had to translate for the grown-ups (because I was one), messages WILL get garbled. Badly. Even if you plied us with candy.

Appendix #7  (might be time for an appendectomy here...)

(SOME OF) MICHAEL BUBLE’S FANS ARE ASSHOLES.

There is a certain parking garage in a certain city, which we take care of after hours. You push the big red “HELP” button, you get me. There was recently a concert by the above mentioned crooner, after which folks had trouble getting out of the parking garage. The abuse endured was astronomical. Seriously? Really though? The folks who attended the Slipknot concert were by FAR more polite. They didn't swear at me for asking for their phone number. They didn't threaten to ram the gate for asking for their name. They didn't cuss me out for the fact that the parking garage doesn’t accept cash after 10 pm. THEY didn't call the cops on me because I asked them to use a different gate than the one clearly marked “OUT OF ORDER”.

FINIS.

Please to understand that this is all MY OPINION.  This Be A Rant.  With rantiness.    It isn't likely to make anyone but call center/answering service employees laugh, but there it is.

WHOA.

It has seriously been like, YEARS.

No matter, I can always start again.

So.  I'm back in NH, I am divorced, and I felt like blogging again.  Yep.

I knit now.  I'm a lacto-veg now.  I live in a faboo apartment 3 blocks from my downtown.  I work 3rd shift at an answering service.  I have 2 cats and a Diablo 3 (xbox) addiction.

I live with and love a person with mental illness.  It's tough, but he's worth it.  Herein, I shall refer to him as mon cher.

I will try to blog weekly with more hints and tips for the poor and paranoid!

TIP O'Th DAY!

I just scrubbed my stovetop.  It's normally mon cher's job to do the balance of the housework, since he doesn't work outside the house.  Of late, he's had a bit of a rough patch, a setback of sorts.  This, if you are not familiar with living with mental illness, is a regular part of our lives.  We take it one day at a time, and I help out as much as I can when I am not working or dead to the world.
The housework has suffered.  It happens.  I think he had given up the stovetop for a lost cause, because it was...gleurgh.  Bleagh?  Not even my trusty bottle of Earring-guy orange cleaner touched it.  Elbow grease was on the menu.  I discovered in my scrounging about the house that we were out of liquid-creamy bleachy stuff that allows you to scrub softly.  To the Intarwubs!!  578,692 recipes to make your own not-hard cleansing creme.
Full of 578,692 ingredients I don't have.  Cuz I'm poor.
But I have baking soda.
And a wet rag.
Et Voila.
Wet rag+baking soda+elbow grease (and not much of that, for real) = Stovetop even an Italian mother couldn't sneer at.

Now...about that floor.

Dehydrator goodness!

I know, I know.

I haven't felt much like blogging in a while.

But I do today.

I have bought my first dehydrator, and my first batch was apples and strawberries. Not bad! I have plans for making my own raisins, and dehydrating mixed veg for soup mixes.

Things to do with Chorizo When you're poor

Moving to the land of Flat has introduced me to many new food items. The only Chorizo I knew was a hard, cured sausage like a pepperoni or a summer sausage. Apparently this is not true of Mexican chorizo. Last night was one of those scrape-the-back-of-the-cupboards nights, and all I had left in the house was a package of 6 chorizos, some lentils, and some rice.

aaaaannnd...Voila!

6 chorizos, about 1 pound. removed from their jackets and crumbled up.
1 cup lentils
1 cup rice
4 cups water
garlic powder
cinnamon
cumin
ginger

fry up the chorizo meat until it starts to brown, add spices. throw in lentils, rice and water. stir.
bring to a nice boil, stir some more, turn down to medium heat, cook 40 minutes COVERED, stirring occasionally.

Easy, not too involved, deliciously yummy! Makes enough for two people plus lunches and have enough for another meal left over, so this should feed 4 people easily.

Yacupper

Yet Another Crock Pot Pork Recipe


Not very imaginative. I know. But, true.

1- 2 pack pork loin, on sale at (hushed tones) the Evil Empire.
2- parsnips found hiding in the crisper
1 - medium onion
4- elderly apples, meduim sized
1/2 cup- cheap red wine (I use Paisano or burgundy because that's what I grew up with. don't use the salted "cooking wine" crap!)
1 1/2 cups- water
Garlic powder, powdered ginger, and rosemary to taste.

Peel, roughly chop apples, onion and parsnips into bite sized pieces. Throw into bottom of pot, toss them with your hands to combine. Sprinkle garlic, ginger and rosemary on to pork. lay pork on top of apple mixture in pot. pour in water and wine. put on high. walk away for 4 hours, OR...put on low, walk away for 6-8 hours.


Going to test this on La Ferrette and her spawn tonight. Probably supplement with veg and pasta salad.

I know the Troll and La Ferrette will eat it, but I have reservations about the spawn. Will update with reults!

Fried Stirs!

When I was little my father always referred to stir-fry as Fried Stirs. Which at the time, was hilarious. Now, it's just become what it's called, lol.

Fried Stirs on the cheap!

This is a dish that can be made with whatever meat/protein you have on hand. That package of chicken that was a great buy, but had enough in it for 1.5 meals? Yeah. like that.

Protein, choose one: 1-2 chicken breasts, 3-4 thighs, fairly firm tofu, 1lb beef of any sort except ground, ditto pork.

Vegetables, choose any:frozen broccoli, cauliflower, "winter mix", "california blend", basically whatever you have on hand or was cheap that day in the frozen veg aisle.

cut up protein into bite size pieces, and toss into hot pan with a bit of oil and start frying, stirring often (hence the name, no?) add soy sauce, garlic and ginger to taste, stir, stir, stir. when protein is nearly cooked, add veg, more garlic, more ginger, more soy sauce.
cook just until veg are hot all through.
Serve with rice.

Interred Slabs

Mmmmm...
Pork.

Usually pork isn't on the list because it's not often in the budget. Occasionally, however, El Hubbito will be looking longingly at the pork in the Butcher's case at the market, and find a really good buy.
Since he puts up with a lot cheap-food-wise, he gets his pig if he finds a too-good-to-pass-up deal.

One of his favorites (and mine) is the following Chops and Beans recipe.

INTERRED SLABS
Preheat oven to 350F/177C
4 pork chops: boneless is good, but they needn't be.
1 medium onion, chopped small
1 medium apple, peeled, cored and chopped small
4 cups (2 cans) Plain Beans. These can be any kind. I have made this with pintos, black turtles, great northerns, navy beans, cannelinis, the little pink beans, mixtures of the above. Use whatever you have cooked, or whatever cans you have, but they MUST be plain beans.
1/4 to 1/2 c prepared mustard. Don't use a sweet mustard, spicy brown or dijon tastes best.
1/4 to 1/2 c sugar-free maple syrup (use regular if you don't have/need the sugar-free)
2-3 tb worcestershire sauce
salt and pepper

Drain beans if necessary, and add everything but the chops to a saucepan. Start with 1/4 cup each of the syrup and mustard, increase if the mix seems too dry. Cook on low, stirring frequently till the mixture is heated through and forms its own sauce.

lightly pepper the chops, and sprinkle a tiny bit of salt on them.

spray or lightly oil a largish casserole or baking dish. spread 1/2 of the beans in the bottom of the dish, lay the chops on top, top with the rest of the beans.

Bake for about 45 minutes-1 hour.

I usually serve this with a dark green vegetable.

CLAP soup

Ok, not as clever as it could be, but it works. Carrot, Leek, Apple and Parsnip.

Served with cheese biscuits it is an amazing delicately sweet soup that is super-filling. With vegetable stock it's totally vegetarian, milk being the only animal product. Someone try this with soymilk and let me know, yes?

CLAP soup

3 tbsp (45 mL) olive oil
3 well washed Leeks; use white and pale green part sliced
4 sliced, large Carrots
2 sliced, large Parsnips
2 peeled and chopped Apples (I used Granny smith)
2-1/2 cups (625 mL) veg stock, preferably the non-tomato-containing kind Or...chicken if that's all you have.
4-5 cups (1-1.25 L) Milk, any variety
salt and pepper
Basil

In large saucepan, heat oil over medium heat. Add leeks, carrots, parsnips and apples and cook about 5 minutes, stirring often. Cover, reduce heat to low and cook 10 minutes to soften vegetables. Stir in basil, stock and sugar, bring to a boil, reduce heat, cover and simmer until vegetables are very tender, 15 to 20 minutes. Cool slightly. Working in batches, purée vegetables in blender or food processor with some of the milk. Return soup to saucepan and stir in remaining milk. Heat through but do not boil. Season to taste with salt and pepper and thin with additional milk, if desired.

Cribbed and adjusted from a Foodland Ontario recipe.
A certifiable hit with El Hubbito and the carnivorous girl buddy.


I thought it was about time to actually USE this blog, and this was my first hit of 2008.
Coming soon: The recipe for the Famous Oatcakes!

Ch-Ch-Ch-Chaaangesss

The time has come for them.

I'll keep the old posts here, because some of them fit the new format, and I wrote them for a reason, dammit. However, I'm going to start using this like I meant to.
Lifestyles of the Poor and Paranoid has always been the name I wanted to use if I ever actually got around to writing my cookbook. Therefore, TA-DAAAAA! My very own recipe blog.

Down at the Protest

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Gaming groups, care and feeding of.

No, not literal snacks and stuff, although I could post a recipe for fried cheerios this week...
But, I digress. Tomorrow, we'll be hosting the first game night here at the Abyss. Apparently the former gaming venue has become unsuitable, and as they wanted us in, it was all-around easier for me to say "Sure, c'mon over!" Not to mention that even if I'm unwell, I can sit on my own couch and game without having to worry about going out. At any rate, I'm excited. Moonies are gregarious animals, after all, and I'm usually cooped up here by myself.

Little sketches of the gamers I know for certain are coming.

The GM:
Has known the Troll practically since puberty. Brash, crass, obnoxious, and a complete sweetie. Reminds me muchly of el hubbito. Has some interesting ideas of how this game is going to go, and I must say I'm looking forward to living in his mind.
The Other Chick:
Reminds me of another girl gamer I know, but not as prim. She and I get along swimmingly, and it's nice to have another girl as gross as I am, or can be.
The Enigma:
Tall, dark, easy to look at. That's about all I know right now, other than his name, as he's not a real big talker. Yet. I'm willing to bet he'll open up more once he gets to know us.

+Moonies and the Troll makes 5.

Squee! The new Dax Riggs album, We Sing of only Blood or Love came out on tuesday. I bought it. You should too.

Beans, rain, and paper hippie lights

I felt like starting with a recipe this month, so here we go:

Chicken and Turtles
Turtles as in turtle beans!
1 1/2 c cooked black beans
OR
1 can black turtle beans, drained and rinsed
1 1/2 c cooked chicken
1 c cooked rice
1/2 c chopped green pepper
1/2 large onion, chopped
2 tb oil
4 cloves garlic, chopped very fine
2 tb lime juice
2 tb water
1 tsp each oregano, chili powder and cumin
hot sauce to taste

In a large skillet, heat oil and saute onions, 1/2 the garlic and the green pepper until the onions are translucent. Stir in black beans, chicken, lime juice, water, spices, the rest of the garlic and hot sauce. simmer, stirring often till heated through. serve over hot cooked rice with shredded cheese. Nummy!

As I write this, Sully has screwed off forthwith for the land of Underbed. Why? Because the sky is making loud noises and bright lights and there is wet out there. Not a big deal when we lived in NH, but here it hasn't rained for weeks, and I am really glad it finally has. I probably won't be so glad when it's icky sticky muggy tomorrow, but for now, YAY THUNDERSTORM!

Crap. I was gonna go smoke...where's that bumberchute?

Feh. Fooey on expensive lamps and lighting! Get yourself a long cord with a lightbulb socket at one end, and a paper hippie lantern. $15.95 including tax for overhead lighting for the living room. Oh...plus $0.87+tax for a box of ceiling hooks.
I can't wait till Friday! We're hosting the game night. Eeee! Geektopia!

She's Baaaaa-aaaack!

Ah, yes. It's been a while, has it not, my little chickadees?

The move went splendidly, the only black marks on an otherwise uneventful trip were first, the dumbass that rear-ended the poor carlet 2 days before we left, and poor drugged-up Sully getting confused and peeing on top of his crate. (stinky!!) Thank Goddess for Nature's Miracle.

I've begun the settling-in process here in the land of wheat. We have managed, through the generosity of La Ferrette and sister-in-law, to procure a bed, a dinette set, and even a super-nifty craft table. My old Kenmore sewing machine made the trip with us, and my beads are on their way. The folks at the SRS(welfare) office are optomistic about getting me some healthcare, and El hubberooni really likes his new job. And we have the awesomest, comfiest, coolest-looking couch and loveseat set known to man. My first grownup, non-handmedown furniture ever. I have decided to celebrate by making a blanket. I chose the "Blushing Grannies" blanket out of feb/mar '07's Crochet Today magazine. Except...I chose cream, caramel and chocolate to go with my new couch instead of the reds they use; I have to switch from an I hook, which the pattern calls for, to a K hook because my stitching is so tight; and I'm making either 48 or 52 squares instead of the 35 they call for. If I only made 35, the blanket would be so tiny it would be useless! I'm not knocking blankets as decor, but I like to be able to curl up under it. Blankets should be useable, warm and comfy in my house.

Let's see...how about a recipe? We haven't had one in a while.

Moonie's Spicy Magic meat&veggie rub

1/4 c paprika
2T garlic powder
1T onion powder
2T thyme
1t cayenne
2 t marjoram
1/2 t cumin
salt, to your taste, but it does need some.
black pepper , and
white pepper, or you could use one of those peppercorn medley things.
Rub this dry right onto meat, tofu, veggies, whatever, just before frying, or putting them on the grill, hibachi or George Foreman.
Or mix it into sour cream, cream cheese, ranch dressing, bleu cheese dressing...the list goes on. Any of those listed makes a kickass dip. Mix it into your next batch of hummus!

If there's enough folks asking for it, I'll post my SuperHummus recipe next time.

Holy Cops, Batman!

So, driving to Ye Olde Shoppe this morning, there's a detour. Wha? And then, I begin to notice a plethora of official vehicles. From all over. Hmmm...I wonder what's up? Upon recieving a request from Bossu-rady for a change run, I walk to the bank. Which is right next to the Legislative Office Building (LOB). And encounter hot-and-cold running cops in their dress uniforms. There is literally a WALL O' COP surrounding the State House and the LOB. There's flags and podiums on the lawn of the LOB, and spectators, and cops. Not to mention dignitaries, weirdos, and cops. Oh, and there were cops. I don't just mean town cops. I mean town, podunk, state, feds, village and purchase constables, sherrify-types, a gaggle of MA staties, and a couple that I'm pretty certain were Mounties (red uniforms).

Horses and puppies and Smokeybearhats, oh my!

And now, on "As the Stomach Churns..."

*names have been changed. just so you know*


OK folks, I've really tried to keep family draaaama out of this blog, but I gotta tell someone, and you're it. Besides, if you don't wanna read this crap, you need only scroll past it.
6 weeks ago, La Diva came driving up to the doorstep crying. Her children were in the backseat, silent. A 7 year old and a 2 year old are NEVER silent. (and awake) She was afraid of him. She was afraid that her boyfriend (Tacoboy) would hurt the children. Afraid that he would hurt her, or have her arrested again. (yes, I said again.) She uproots her children, moves in with us and forces Miss Primadonna Pooperschnitzel (7) to change schools in the middle of the year. Prim hates him and is afraid of him. "Tacoboy is ruining my life." No child that age should know how to suck up to someone because they're afraid of them. But she does. I've seen her. She kisses his weaselly little narrow ass so that he won't scream at her and shut her in her bedroom. "Hi Taco, I love you Taco." This...thing is not her father. Problem, though. He is Mr. TrainTrain BusyPants's(2) father.
So...this week. Miss Prim is at her daddy's having a sleep-over (it's school vaca week) and La Diva picks up Pants...and disappears. No phone call to let the people she lives with know she and Pants are OK and not dead on the side of the road, nothing. She rolls in about 9:30 the next morning, sans Mr. BusyPants, and proceeds to start stuffing clothes and diapers into plastic bags. I am not a stupid woman. I know where Pants is, and I know where she's been. But I must go to work. So I leave it alone, except..."Hey, Prim's daddy called here looking for you." "*diatribe about how he could have called her cell, and what a useless piece of crap he is.*" "OK, well, just giving you the message, dude." "*vitriol, vitriol*" "Well, gotta go to work, bye." And an offhand reminder that Prim is having a sleepover guest (Miss Chatterbox SnugglyBear, 7) that night.
So why do I have Mother mine, Prim's Daddy(The Inkerator) and Bear's mama(Ka-to) calling me at work all day? *Sigh* Because they know I'll fix it so that the girls can have their sleepover even if La Diva is a no-show as usual. In Ka-to's defense, she has 3.5 other children to marshal, and one disappointed 7 year old can screw up the mix real bad for her. The last thing you need whilst incubating, neh?
The sleepover goes off without a hitch *phew*. LaDiva even manages to sleep at home that night. Last night, however, she took her children out to "Get her oil change done." And proceeded to drop the children off at 7:30 this morning to be watched so she could go to work.
Part of me wants to call Inky and tell him what's up. He already hates Tacoboy and doesn't want the guy near his daughter. Part of me wants to tell LaDiva what. All of me wishes that Taco would just fall off the face of the earth because of all the hurt and misery he's caused my family. Seriously...I can't wait to leave. I'll miss the children, but I can't be a part of this anymore. it's affecting my work, my sleep, my stomach...I don't mean to sound selfish, but there is NOTHING I CAN DO FOR THESE CHILDREN. I can't change what's happening to them, or take them out of what I know is a bad situation. All I can do is love them when I see them, and patch up their physical hurts.
LaDiva I'm done with. She'll get "excuse me" and "pass the salt" out of me.

Dobedobedo...selling ev'rythin...dobedobedo...all has gotta go

Yep. Biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig yard sale this weekend. Kinda feels like I'm selling the last 8 years 5 bucks at a time. I have some trepidations about driving 1700 miles and not having any furniture when I get there, but it's also a great big weight of my pack-rat past that's coming off my shoulders. As I was looking through the mountain of boxes and bags that came from Summer St., I saw things I hadn't looked at in a year. OK, fine. Happens, right? Then...then I saw shit that hasn't seen the light of day since before Peepeehead left. Whoa. Why do I hold on to this crap?? Even if I wasn't moving halfway across the country, I have trucked this garbage to 4 different homes now. Jeebus, there's 2 liquor-store boxes of it!! So the motto for this month is: Sell It, Give It Away, and if all else fails, Chuck It.
The worst part? I have to get rid of sewing machines. ACK! And Fabric. And thread. and *shudder* YARN.
As a matter of fact, I have to have a yard sale in order to clear off the top layer of junk...so I can find the rest of the stuff I'm getting rid of. Double ack.

This Month's Experiment:

I noticed that living in this town makes me crankier the longer I'm here. I'm beginning to think it does that to most everyone. So I'm experimenting, something I call The Great Smile Experiment.
On super nice days like today I will go for a walk in beautiful downtown Concord and smile. At everyone I pass. At folks in cars. At people in shops. Hey, it's a gorgeous day, the sun is sunny, it's not too hot, the smell of coffee is wafting from the open doors of the coffee and bagel shops, the kids have the week off from school.
So I did. Great big "it's too nice out to be cranky" smiles. At everyone, and everyone's dogs and children.
Nada. Nothing. Zip.
Not one return smile.
Yep, this town is cranky.

Tips for Restaurants, V 1.0

So, hubberooni and I went out tonight. Doesn't happen very often these days, so we like to make it special when it does. We have a few favorite restaurants here in the Capitol City, ones that we frequent often. We decided to try something new tonight, and boy did we make a bad choice. So, Uno Chicago Grill, if you're listening, you suck.
Here be the list of negatives:

I won't add in the 15 minute wait for a table, because we expected it. I mean 15 minutes, no biggie, right?

1.) When we were seated, we waited about 5 minutes for menus, and then 15 more after that before we even saw a server, no beverages, nothing. When we finally saw a server, it was for her to tell us she'd be with us in a few minutes. Still no drinks. Not even waters. P.S. the table? dirty.

2.) Server finally shows up, it takes her 3 tries to read our order back to us correctly.
How hard is it to get a salad, a burger and 2 iced teas???

3.) Fast forward to food showing up. Salad dressing is not on the side as requested, and burger is well done instead of medium rare. Oh well...no big deal. Except it is.

4.) There are some important things to mention on the menu. Like that the burger comes with some sort of sauce, and that walnuts in the salad are candied. Not a big deal for most, but when you're not allowed to have sugar...a big deal.

5.) Salad dressing tastes like soap. Wrong cheese on burger. Candied fucking walnuts. Not just some, but so many it was nearly impossible to avoid them. Salad abandoned.

6.) Saw server three times. To take our order, to bring the food, to bring the check. At which point I had Had Enough. I let them have it.

Upshot? Got our "meal" for free. Never going back.

Now I'm gonna go send them a nasty email. Just about the walnuts, though.

BusyBusyBusy!

So, it has finally come to March. The month that haunts my existence. The month where traditionally it All Goes Wrong for me. All job-losing, health crises, major marital fights, and life-altering crapulence happens in March. It's mind-boggling. This month, so far, has been fairly...benign! Color me utterly astonished, but the normal beginning-of-the-year crapfest didn't wait until March this year, but started in January. Now that it's passed on through, everything's fairly ordinary. I'm peacefully doin' ma thang here at the herb shop, hubberooni is working the rent-a-cop job third shift and liking it OK, the cat eats, sleeps, poops, plays and snuggles, the niece and nephew are cute, the sister is fairly pleasant, the parents are parents.

OK, SO not complaining. This is the first March in 8 years that life has been livable, thank you Goddess.

And now: Craft-o-the Week!
Bed Sachets
Materials:
2 7"x5" rectangles of fabric. I like to use one of calico and one of something nice and fuzzy, like polarfleece. Works really awesome as an eye-pillow!
rice OR buckwheat hulls OR flax seeds
4 tablespoons each of dried:
lavender
rose petals
chamomile

Cut 2 7"x5" rectangles of fabric. sew right sides together, leaving a 1.5" opening for turning and stuffing. Turn.

mix your dried flowers together, and roll a piece of printer paper into a cone shape with a largeish opening at the tip. Tuck the tip of the cone into the pillow to use as a funnel for filling the pillow. Remember, you want this to be fairly loose, more like a beanbag than an actual pillow, so don't overstuff! Alternate pouring scoops of rice/buckwheat hulls/flax seeds and flower mix into the pillow, and stitch the opening shut.

TaaaaDaa! Enjoy!

WARNING!!!

Too much sugar-free chocolate=unhappy tummy. that is all.