Look at my bread!

Look at my bread! It turned out really great. I made three loaves like this and I have another loaf in the fridge ready to bake. It's very dense and chewy.

I am an artisan!

I made the artisan bread, and I took a picture of it, but I can't upload it because my brother-in law and his girlfriend are sleeping in my computer room. In a twin bed! Ah, romance.

8 Christmas gifts I remember

Today, I thought I ought to come up with 8 things about Christmas. There were a few directions I could have taken this, but I decided after about 30 seconds of intense deliberation that I will share 8 gifts that I have received that I can remember. At this very second, I am wondering if I can do it. Here we go:

* My mother gave me an oil painting of my daughter, I think it might be my only prized possession. It's the only "thing" that I can think of that I would grab if the house were on fire.

* The first gift that ever brought tears to my eyes was from my sister-in-law, a waitress who saved her tips all year for Christmas presents. Usually, that meant she didn't have a lot of money to spend at Christmas, but one year, she had a really good year I guess. She gave me a print of the St. Mary's McGowan church where I was married, painted by watercolor artist Charles Mulvey.

* I remember I got a hair dryer one year from my mom. It must've been my first non-toy present- I remember thinking it was an odd Christmas gift, but I was excited because it seemed like a grown-up thing to have.

* I remember that 16 years ago, I was pretty certain that the box under the tree from Spencer was the sewing machine I had asked for. Instead, it was the stereo he had wanted.

* I got a sewing machine a couple years ago. I picked it out myself.

* 13 or 14 years ago, I was at my step-sisters house, and I admired her Christmas Village. She gave me the very same village that year.

(this point marks the end of the "easy ones")

* Madison sewed a hat for me last year. I love it.

* When I think back to my childhood Christmases, I remember that I always looked forward to gifts from my uncle Chris. He shopped at Radio Shack, and we got electronic gifts, like Merlin and a tape recorder.

These aren't necessarily my favorite gifts, or the most meaningful or anything like that. They are just 8 gifts that I can think of tonight.

Madison and I made bread dough this afternoon, but we didn't get it into the oven tonight. We will make a loaf tomorrow.

Things I learned this week- Birthday Edition

Today I turn 37 years old, which seems a lot older than 36. I still feel 23. Here is what I learned this week:
(Once again, many of the interesting things I learned this week are tidbits that I cannot share until after Christmas. And, of course, by then, I will have forgotten them.)

* I leaned that sometimes, embalming involves removing internal organs, soaking them in formaldehyde (or whatever) and then returning them to the abdomen in a thick plastic bag before the abdomen is closed. This reminds me of a bag of gizzards, and I say no thanks. (just to the plastic bag.)

* I made eight of something. I used the same pattern for all eight items, and the same fabric. The items are remarkably dissimilar. So, I learned that I could not work in a production setting. My quality varies.

* I learned that I can catch up all the work I have put off (at work) in a year if I apply myself and work hard, no interneting or anything, for 7 and a half hours.

And I did not start the bread today, I will start it tomorrow. I had to buy flour. When I got home from the store to put the flour away, there was a brand-new, unopened 15 pound bag in the pantry. Things like that are not uncommon in my house.

Our daily bread

For the past few weeks, I have been preoccupied, trying to figure out what to feed my brother in law and his three kids when they come for a week, beginning Monday. Since we don't spend a lot of time at home, I need foods that are easy to prepare. Quantity is important.
I am so happy that I found this recipe for no-knead artisan bread from Mother Earth News. The recipe is special because you prepare enough dough for 8 loaves at once, and store it in the fridge. Each day you want bread, you remove a portion of the dough and bake it.
I am going to give it a try, I'll let you know how it turns out.

Nature versus Nurture

My daughter's room is a mess. I know, that doesn't make her unique. My room is a mess, too, and there are messy rooms all over the world. Tomorrow is a big day for my daughter's dirty room. It's a make it or break it day.

A day or two before Thanksgiving, I told her to get her room cleaned because her cousins would be coming over in a couple days. She became angry with me because I didn't give her enough notice to clean her room. After all, she reasoned, her room is a disaster. It takes a long time to clean a disaster zone.

So her cousins came, and waded through the clothes and books and toys and paper and God-only-knows what else in her room and they all had a great time. No one was lost.

On or about December 1, I asked her how long she thought it would take to get her room clean. She thought about it and answered, "two weeks."

So, I gave her until the 19th to get her room clean. I promised no nagging, no yelling, no pressure. Her dad and I have reminded her, but I think we have done a pretty good job refraining from nagging. But, if her room isn't clean tomorrow, all bets are off... and I don't have to have a house full of kids because her cousins won't be allowed to sleep in there.

Will she do it? I really don't know. She has been working at it steadily for a while, but her progress seems to have stalled. It's as if she is unable to tell the difference between garbage anything else.

Christmas Caroling

Last night, Madison and I joined other girl scouts in Albany to go caroling in the neighborhood around the program center.

Caroling with young girls is very difficult, because they sing so high, but I really enjoy it because the girls sound so pretty when they sing Silent Night. Just like angels. I just hum the parts that I can't sing.

I also enjoy seeing our audience's reactions. Since we sing in the same neighborhood every year, some people are expecting us and sing along. Others, maybe renters or homeowners new to the neighborhood, are shocked that anyone goes caroling anymore. They take pictures, or call for their family to come to the door. Everyone- absolutely everyone- seems to really enjoy being sung at.

Movies we love

There are some movies that my family will watch every time they are shown on television, even if we have just seen it a week ago. It just so happens that most of them are on heavy rotation on AMC and TNT and Encore...I wonder if they know what we like, or if we like what they show. It's the couch potato dilemma. Anyway, here they are, in no particular order:

The Green Mile- Lots of good God symbolism and a circus mouse.

The Mafia collection: Goodfellas, Casino, and the Godfather movies. Once or twice a year, one of the networks will run them all in a weekend. That's a lot of monkey-freakin entertainment.

The Shawshank Redemption- I assert that this is Morgan Freeman's finest narration work.

The Truman Show- More God symbolism, and I just love this movie, because when I was little, I used to think of my life in terms of a TV show, I guess.

Jackass- I'll admit it.

Tin Cup

Tombstone, and to a lesser degree, Wyatt Earp. And of course, Lonesome Dove, which requires a pretty hefty time commitment.

8 people I get to spend the holidays with

I have some crazy relatives. A couple are bona fide bananas, the rest are just run-of the mill nuts. I love them all, I really do...(And because I love them, I changed their names.)

* Crazy Uncle Ray is my husband's schizophrenic uncle. Ray spends his days drinking coffee, rolling cigarettes, and smoking cigarettes. I've only been told of the schizophrenia diagnosis, but it is obvious that there is some other mental impairment happening.
He lives in Coos Bay, but he comes to visit for holidays. He is missing many teeth, and he has poor muscle tone around his mouth, so we all have to be sure not to look directly at him during meals, else we get a unobstructed view of the food in his mouth. When he comes to visit, he stays with

*Grandma Betty, Ray's mother, my husband's grandmother. She carries no diagnosis that I am aware of, but she is a nutty old bat. If she doesn't feel like she is getting enough attention, she will just walk out of a room and go home, pouting. She also demands that on Christmas morning, all of the children tell her who each gift is from. This is her way of teaching them to be grateful, I guess. She also wraps up her old jewelry and gives it as gifts to the girls. But not in an heirloom way. In a crazy way.


*My nine-year-old nephew Trevor, who wants handcuffs for Christmas. That's all he wants.

* My husband's autistic brother who runs into traffic to collect pop cans. He also has some issues with keeping his mouth closed when he eats. My husband has to carefully plan his seat at the dinner table so that he doesn't face his brother or uncle Ray. I came to the conlcusion recently that my mother and law and her son are just younger versions of Betty and Ray.

* My mother-in-law, who is in charge of rations. She rations the food- dishing up the same amount of food for her 15 year old son as her 7 year old granddaughter. On Christmas morning, she forces my husband to play Santa, which means he is in charge of passing out gifts in the order she specifies. She puts numbers on the gift tags.

* The crazy doesn't end with my husband's family. We also get to host my father for Christmas. He is planning on being at my house for less than 48 hours, and he wants to : eat Christmas dinner, golf, and go shopping on the 26th. I told him we are planning on having prime rib for Chrsitmas, so now every time he sees a rib roast, anywhere, he calls to tell me the price per pound and grade, even though I have told him that I am not buying the roast until the 23rd. Today, he called to tell me what he got me for Christmas, so I didn't buy it for myself. He's practical.

* I can't forget my husband and my daughter, who are crazy enough to put with me. And really I could only think of six others.

Things I learned this week- Unbelievable statistic edition

I learned many things this week, but most of them are things that I can't share until December 26. This morning, while I was absent-mindedly using facebook with no intention of learning anything, I saw that my friend Rachel became a fan of The Children's Book Bank, a portland charity that receives donated used childrens books, cleans and sorts them, and distributes them to children in low-income areas.
I clicked on the link and was directed to the Children's Book Bank facebook page, where I saw this statistic :
In homes in middle income neighborhoods, the ratio of books to children is 13 books for every child.

In low income neighborhoods the ratio is 1 book for every 300 children.

Think about that. One book per 300 kids.
It sounded so ridiculous that I decided it must have been made-up, or, at best, from wikipedia.
But it isn't made up. The statistic comes from the 2006 Handbook of Early Literacy Research, Volume 2.
I wasn't able to actually read the handbook, so I don't know how the aurhors arrived at that figure, but the 300:1 ratio is cited often on childrens' literacy websites.

Can you believe it? One book per 300 kids?! In the United States of America.
I have a hard time getting Madison to let go of books. She still has complete sets of Junie B Jones books and Magic Treehouse books, as well as lots of other books for young readers. It's time to let those go, and get them into the hands of kids that need them.