More Meals

Dinners since last post, so these are from 7 Sept -14 Sept.

 

Sunday: I made asparagus risotto, which uses arborio rice, white wine, chicken stock (or "chick-un stock" in my case -- chicken-free), onions, garlic, black pepper, a little butter and olive oil, and roasted asparagus. Served that with a green salad of mesclun, carrots, tomato, cucumber, and kalamata olives with a little Caesar dressing. Glass (or almost) of white wine, an Albet i Noya Xarel-Lo Classic 2007, which we bought after a wine tasting earlier this year. The usual s-f fudgecicle for dessert.


Monday: Tacos again, with soy crumbles, taco sauce and spices, onions, along with lettuce, tomatoes, black olives, Mexican cheeses, salsa, and taco shells. With a Geary's Autumn Ale. Sugar-free fudgecicle for dessert. I hadn't made tacos in more than a year until last week and now here they show up again!

 

Tuesday: Leftover asparagus risotto, to which I added peas and shrimp, plus a green salad with most of the usual ingredients. Served with the Albet i Noya Xarel-Lo Classic (white wine). Usual fudgecicle.

 

Wednesday: Seafood casserole (a la Amy Dacyczyn): mayonnaise, white wine, powdered mustard, canned tuna, shredded cheese, black pepper, and a celery soup made from scratch with butter, flour, milk powder, vegetable stock, and celery, plus whole wheat rotini. Baked for 35 mins at 350 (it was very chilly in the house that day, so the oven was a welcome heat source). Last 5-10 mins. of cooking, a topping of combined bread crumbs and melted butter is added and the top is removed from the casserole dish so it browns well. Served with the usual green salad, and a glass or two of a cheap ($8) red wine, Altano Duoro 2004 (Tinta Roriz and Touriga Franca varietals). The usual fudgecicle for dessert.

 

Thursday: Yup, leftover seafood casserole, served with cooked spinach and a half-glass of the Altano Duoro red wine. Usual fudgecicle.

 

Friday: I wasn't very hungry, so I had just a green salad (with the usual, including hard-boiled egg and garbanzos), and some roasted potatoes I made. (T. finished the seafood casserole leftovers, and had potatoes and salad). We finished the Altano red wine and had some of the Bartlett's dry blueberry wine, too. S-f fudgecicle for dessert.

 

Saturday: Ate out at Chinese buffet. Had a green salad (romaine, hard-boiled egg, green pepper, kidney beans, black olives, cucumber) plus 4 cold shrimp. Egg-drop soup with crunchy noodles. Smatterings of brown rice, garlic green beans, pepper shrimp, veggie lo mein. Biscuit. A little mint chocolate chip ice cream. Lots of hot tea.

 

Sunday: Ate out at lunch, so just had blue corn chips, salsa and low-fat cheese for dinner, with a Geary's Autumn Ale. Football Sunday!

 

Dinners since last post, so these are from 24 Aug - 6 Sept.

 

Last Week

 

Sunday: We ate out for lunch so just had sparse leftovers for dinner: a couple of tofu corn cakes, the green salad with tuna, and T. had half of his lunch meal that was left over. I think we had a new red wine with that, Bohemian Highway 2006, a Calif. cab sav., which I bought the day before at Whole Foods for $6. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert

 

Monday: I steamed two ears of corn-on-the-cob, and I made a one-dish meal of whole wheat rotini with pesto, steamed green beans, and grilled mahi-mahi. I grilled (really, broiled) the mahi-mahi on skewers in the oven for about 6 mins. total, after marinating them for a while in balsamic vinegar, olive oil, fresh chopped basil, and black pepper. Split a Negra Modelo for dinner. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert

 

Tuesday: You guessed it: leftovers! The rest of the pesto pasta mahi dish, and I made two more ears of corn, plus I made another green salad with the usual ingredients (including egg but minus tuna), and then at the last minute I cooked up (pan-grilled) about 12 jumbo shrimp coated in Old Bay and divided those among the pesto pasta mahi dish and the salad. Split another Negra Modelo with that. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert

 

Wednesday: I ate alone; T was out fishing until late. Two jumbo soy dogs with low-fat cheese, one corn cake. Glass of Bohemian Highway red wine. For dessert, a serving of grapenuts and a half-serving of raisin bran with low-fat milk.

 

Thursday: Stir-fry of mahi-mahi (marinated in rice wine, soy sauce, a litte peanut oil, and black pepper), green beans, shredded carrots, spicy and mesclun greens and spinach, broccolini, leeks, summer squash, scallions, garlic, ginger, and whole wheat rotini. Served with the Bohemian Highway red wine.  Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert

 

Friday: Leftover veggie/mahi-mahi stir-fry, a couple of leftover corn cakes, and we finished the Bohemian Highway red wine. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert

 

 

This Week

 

Saturday: Ate out: artichoke and black olive pizza, anemic garden salad (iceberg lettuce, tomatoes, green pepper, onion, black olives, italian dressing), a glass of Avalon cab sav 2005. Sugar-free fudgesicles for dessert

 

Sunday: Gardenburger (flame grilled style) with swiss cheese, lettuce and ketchup, and salad: mesclun greens, hard-boiled egg, cucumber, red pepper, shredded carrots, garbanzo beans, black and green olives, whole wheat rotiini and caesar dressing. Half a Negra Modelo. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert.

 

Monday (Labour Day): A slice of leftover artichoke and black olive pizza, the usual summer salad (see above ingredients, with tuna), wistful end-of-summer gin and tonics! Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert.

 

Tuesday: Tacos made with Morningstar soy crumbles sauted in taco spices and sauces with onions, and served with corn taco shells, diced tomatoes, mixed Mexican cheeses, romaine lettuce, black olives. With a Negra Modelo. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert.

 

Wednesday: Stir fry: shrimp, whole wheat rotini, broccolini, spinach, leeks, summer squash, shredded carrots, garlic and ginger, green beans, red bell pepper, water chestnuts, soy sauce, rice wine, and peanut oil. Split a glass of Avalon cabernet sauvignon 2005, which I quite like. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert and some moose tracks (toffee) ice cream.

 

Thursday: I ate alone - T. was volunteering: Taco salad from leftovers: soy crumbles, lettuce, cheese, tomatoes, black olives, broken taco shell. A Geary's Autumn Ale. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert.

 

Friday: Leftover stir fry from Wed. and Swiss chard sauted with garlic. 3/4 of a Geary's Autumn Ale. Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert and some moose tracks (toffee) ice cream.

 

Saturday: Scrambled eggs, half-English muffin, cooked spinach, with 1/2 glass of Avalon cab sav.  Sugar-free fudgesicle for dessert and some moose tracks (toffee) ice cream. After dinner: Half-glass of Bartlett's dry blueberry wine (accidentally aged about 10 yrs -- we forgot we had it -- and it's tasting fine!).

 

Seems sort of fitting, after thoughts on wanting, to offer (someone else's) thoughts on having. Plus, it showed up in my RSS feeder this morning and I liked it.

 

At Get Rich Slowly, JD writes an interesting post on having. Having stuff.  A few excerpts:

 

"'You know why you can't get rid of Stuff, don't you?' Kris had asked.

"'Because I want it,' I said.

"'You think you want it,' she said. 'You like the idea of having certain things, but you don't actually use them. You've got dozens of books stacked in the guest room. They've been there since the last time you purged Stuff a year ago. Have you needed any of those books in that time?'

"'No,' I said.

 

 

"After I told my friend Amy Jo about our clutter conversation last week, she shared her own thoughts. 'We each have so many interests, and certain things — like books — keep us connected to those interests, or give us the illusion that they do,' she said.

"'But they also clog up our lives and make us less efficient at doing what we are and what we want to do right now. It's hard to let go of the things that we believe represent parts of ourselves, or we hope represent us. In many cases, these things represent who we were or wished to be at one time — not who we are right now.'"

 

 

I've become adept at preventing new Stuff from entering my life, but it's difficult for me to part with the Stuff I already own. This is a very First World problem, and in a way it makes me feel guilty. We're trained not to be wasteful. That’s not a bad thing, but I think it can prevent us from making smart decisions."

And one of the comments, from RDS, echoes this:

 

"I believe that we are the first generation in the history of the world in which just about every member of our society struggles with managing the vast amount of stuff that we own. Many of us think of all of our stuff as assets. In truth, I suspect that much of it could more accurately be classified as liabilities."

 

 

An essay at Oprah.com strikes me as funny and true, particularly as I am reading Adam Bede, in which even giving a man goo-goo eyes is reason enough to keep a girl from becoming someone else's respectable wife. Divorce? Ha! Better to drown yourself in a pond.

 

She's happily married, dreaming of divorce


Funny:

"Nor is Will the Very Bad Man that I've made him out to be. Rather, like every other male I know, he is merely a Moderately Bad Man, the kind of man who will leave his longboat-sized shoes directly in the flow of our home's traffic so that one day I'll trip over them, break my neck, and die, after which he'll walk home from the morgue, grief-stricken, take off his shoes with a heavy heart, and leave them in the center of the room until they kill the housekeeper. Everyman."

 

(No doubt men can think of Everywoman traits that are equally appalling.)

 

True:

"Women don't view divorce as a scary, shadowy behemoth. It's an unpalatable yet manageable task -- like changing schools or extreme dieting -- that may or may not yield a better result.. ... We can admit that our marriages aren't lambent, lyrical ice-dancing routines and still decide to push on together to the final flying sit spin. We also realize that divorce is an alternative that's fully within reach, be it now or later or never."

In a continuing series ...

 

 

I've been saving them up for this post.

 

It's Lovely! I'll Take It!, "a collection of poorly chosen photos from real estate listings. With love." And comments. Don't miss it.

 

potentially nervous:  "The world's going to hell. Here are some bunny photos."

 

How I Spent My Stimulus. Tell your story.

 

Kim's Page o' Chopsticks. Chopstick wrappers, actually. (Thanks, Mike.)

 

 

Our dog was skunked last night when she went out for her last pee of the night, around 9:15 p.m.  She got it in the face and neck. At first she couldn't open her eyes and was foaming from the mouth. Though my spouse saw the varmint trying to escape our fence, he wasn't sure in the dark, seeing it at a distance from the rear with its tail held aloft, whether it was a skunk or a porcupine (it looked large), so we checked the dog's face for quills, and bites or bleeding, while she was still out on the deck. Finding none, and smelling a strong eau-de-Pepe-Le-Pew, we assumed a skunk spray.

 

We called the emergency vets, who told us to rinse her face over and over with warm water, which we did in the tub upstairs. We didn't really want to bring her in the house but it was dark outside, we don't have a portable tub or wading pool or anything large enough to use as one, and we weren't sure where the perpetrator was. After the warm water rinse -- by now her eyes were open and she'd stopped foaming -- we scrubbed her with a tomato sauce-water mixture. We are apparently quite ill-prepared for this sort of event: no tomato juice, no hydrogen peroxide and about a half-cup of white vinegar to our names.

 

Fortunately, it was warm and not rainy last night, so we opened most of the windows upstairs and some downstairs, using window and exhaust fans in some, but the house still stinks to high heaven today. Last night, it smelled like a chemical, a burning rubber kind of smell, not really the smell I associate with skunks. Much more concentrated and acrid. The forecast is not looking good for us, with rain and cooler temps expected from tonight through next Friday.

 

The dog slept in our room last night, on her foam bed covered double with washable material, but even the foam (three layers down) stinks today, so it's time for a new bed for her. The human furniture is of course off-limits to her for a while.

 

We humans also stink. I went to the Farmer's Market and grocery store today and heard people wondering if there was a skunk around. There was a fluffy black-and-white long-haired chihuahua running around at the Farmer's Market that caused some double-takes. :-)

 

My car stinks, though I sat in it only for about 8 minutes total. I'm running the 4th load of laundry now (so far, all dog-related) and have two more, at least, to go.

 

The dog went to the vet's this morning for a booster rabies shot; she was current on her rabies vaccine but they recommend a booster any time a pet has a run-in with a wild animal. She's now getting her second and third baths, with a mixture of white vinegar, baking soda and a little Dawn liquid detergent -- to neutralise the skunk's potent oil.  The vet recommended this, or rather instead of vinegar, hydrogen peroxide, but though I bought some hydrogen peroxide earlier today -- along with white vinegar, gloves, sponges, and more baking soda -- we still don't have enough of it to do the trick, and the vinegar seems to be working well. We're keeping it away from her face. (The vinegar is also working well added to the laundry.)

 

Our dog is a short-haired shedding variety that doesn't get groomed. Her fur can't be shaved without her looking like a Gloucester Old Spots pig and leaving her prone to sunburn and other skin injury. Judging from other spots she's had shaved for medical procedures, the hair may not grow back, either.

 

The skunks are around, we think, because our neighbours on both sides have grubs, which skunks love. We have a lot of nightcrawlers in our lawn -- not sure whether that's a skunk food source, too. We don't have any garbage outside and thankfully, the skunks don't seem to be nesting under the deck.  

 

Sunday Update: We gave her another bath yesterday using the hydrogen peroxide, baking soda, Dawn recipe linked below. She still stinks. Part of the problem is that most of the spray was on her face -- eyes, nose, mouth -- and that's where we can't wash much using the solution.

 

(Photo: The dog with a treat resting on her nose. One of her other tricks, besides disturbing skunks.)

 

Helpful de-skunking websites

What to do when your dog has been skunked (PetPlace.com)  - our vet printed this out for us 

The best way to deskunk your dog (Brian Retzler) 

Solving problems with skunks (The Humane Society) 

 

 

>> at Zen Habits, 12 Practical Steps for Learning to Go With the Flow. A simple list. I like the quotes, especially this one: 'Flow with whatever is happening and let your mind be free. Stay centered by accepting whatever you are doing. This is the ultimate.' - Chuang Tzu. I wonder whether the idea of accepting whatever I'm doing is consistent with Christianity, with prayers of confession, etc.

 

>>  from Life 2.0, Follow Your Bliss. The central idea, similar to the quote above, is 'no need for self improvement.'

 

"The central premise behind all the self improvement stuff (although often unseen as it can be oh so subtle) is that there is something wrong with us, something flawed that needs to be improved, something we need to do in order to be happy, healthy, successful and fulfilled.  It is this unexamined assumption, that we can be improved and therefore must be less than perfect, that keeps us in chains ... that reinforces this illusion of brokenness, powerlessness and being a victim-of-circumstances-beyond-our-control, which we see reflected back to us in the world we perceive around us."

 

Instead, this weblog counsels "an alternative to self-improvement, a spiritual path or another kind of seeking.... Vow to do what makes you happy right now and see where that takes you." Ah, but "anything we think we want, we have been conditioned to want," so it's not as easy as it might seem to do what makes us happy.

 

What I can't help thinking is that this plan to "be happy" is self-improvement by another name, with its implication that we're not happy enough already, and that we need to do something about this lack.

 

 >> "Jesus Made Me Puke" by Matt Tabbi in Rolling Stone, about a 3-day "Encounter Weekend" retreat with John Hagee's Cornerstone Church:

 

"The program revolved around a theory that [pastor Philip] Fortenberry quickly introduced us to called 'the wound.' The wound theory was a piece of schlock biblical Freudianism in which everyone had one traumatic event from their childhood that had left a wound. The wound necessarily had been inflicted by another person, and bitterness toward that person had corrupted our spirits and alienated us from God. Here at the retreat we would identify this wound and learn to confront and forgive our transgressors, a process that would leave us cleansed of bitterness and hatred and free to receive the full benefits of Christ.

 

"In the context of the wound theory, Fortenberry's tale suddenly made more sense. Being taken on that eighteen-hole golf trip with the barmaid, and watching his family ditched by Dad, had been his wound. It was a wound, Fortenberry explained, because his father's abandonment had crushed his 'normal.'

 

"'And I was wounded,' he whispered dramatically. 'My dad had ruined my normal!'

 

"The crowd murmured affirmatively, apparently knowing what it was to have a crushed normal."

 

 

>> at Marginal Revolution, How To Choose An Apartment. How much does the actual living space matter, and how much does the location matter? Do we under- or over-invest in one or the other? Interesting anaylsis via comments.  I now live in a house I don't really like, in a location I love. Before this, I lived in a house (including extensive grounds) that I loved in a location I didn't like. I still don't know which is better.

 

 

>> provacateur PJ O'Rourke's "Fairness, Idealism and Other Atrocities," commencement advice. His advice: make money, don't be an idealist (they're bullies), get politically uninvolved (politics is anathema to truth), forget about fairness, be a religious extremist (that is, realise that "using politics to create fairness is a sin"). 

 

About fairness:

"Well, I am here to advocate for unfairness. I've got a 10-year-old at home. She's always saying, 'That's not fair.' When she says this, I say, 'Honey, you're cute. That's not fair. Your family is pretty well off. That's not fair. You were born in America. That's not fair. Darling, you had better pray to God that things don't start getting fair for you.'" 

 

 

>> 25 Things All Women Should Learn to Do Already by the women at Jezebel. Ranges from manual and practical skills like rapid vegetable chopping, masturbation, financial investing, and assembling furniture, to the more abstract realm of truth-telling, and social skills like withholding information, getting angry without being passive-aggressive, and not taking things personally. And of course, there are comments. 

 

>>  "Total Recall … Or At Least the Gist" at Miller-McCune, on the differences between gist and verbatim memory. What interests me here is the hypothesis called 'fuzzy trace theory,'  which "explains how we can 'remember' things that never really happened:"

 

"When an event occurs, verbatim memory records an accurate representation. But even as it is doing so, gist memory begins processing the information and determining how it fits into our existing storehouse of knowledge. Verbatim memories generally die away within a day or two, leaving only the gist memory, which records the event as we interpreted it.  Under certain circumstances, this can produce a phenomenon Reyna and her colleagues refer to as 'phantom recollection.' She calls this 'a powerful form of false alarm' in which gist memory -- designed to look for patterns and fill in perceived gaps -- creates a vivid but illusory image in our mind."  ...

 

"Gist memory allows us to make snap decisions. But life does not always follow familiar patterns, and harm can result when we discard evidence that doesn't fit our assumptions."

 

They note that this 'misremembering' is a very common, ordinary occurence.

 

>> "The Candidate, the Preacher and the Unconscious Mind" by Shankar Vedantam in the WaPo. Central idea: We are biased against people who are in proximity to people we are already biased against. Second idea: We believe that people "from other ethnic, cultural and political groups are quite similar to one another, whereas they know that people from [our] own groups are quite varied."

 

The study he cites is fascinating:

Volunteers in a research experiment see an applicant sitting in a waiting room next to an overweight person, while others see the applicant sitting next to someone of average weight. ... "A variety of experiments have shown that overweight people suffer from discrimination; what [researcher Michelle] Hebl wanted to find out was whether strangers in the vicinity of overweight people would share in such approbation.

"Remarkably, Hebl found that volunteers rated job applicants more negatively when they had been seen seated next to an overweight person than when they were seen seated next to an average weight person. The volunteers had no idea that they were showing not only a prejudice against fat people but also a bias against people who were merely in proximity to overweight people.

"The experiment tells us something about the Obama-Wright controversy. The presidential candidate may have made it clear that the minister does not speak for him, but every time Wright's words are replayed on talk radio and cable TV, they automatically retrieve mental associations in many voters' minds with Obama. Hebl similarly found her volunteers unconsciously made associations even after being explicitly told there was no connection between the job applicants in the waiting room."

 

Similarly, "men and women seen in the company of beautiful partners are perceived as being more attractive than when they are seen in plainer company." But -- "there is some evidence our minds are especially attuned to negative associations."

 

 

>> "The Gospel of Consumption And the better future we left behind" by Jeffrey Kaplan in Orion. The article, with a focused accounting of Kellogg company work-hour policy over the years, is primarily a vision of Americans working and spending less while living comfortably.

 

"Machines can save labor, but only if they go idle when we possess enough of what they can produce. In other words, the machinery offers us an opportunity to work less, an opportunity that as a society we have chosen not to take. Instead, we have allowed the owners of those machines to define their purpose: not reduction of labor, but 'higher productivity'  -- and with it the imperative to consume virtually everything that the machinery can possibly produce. ...

 

"By 1991 the amount of goods and services produced for each hour of labor was double what it had been in 1948. By 2006 that figure had risen another 30 percent. In other words, if as a society we made a collective decision to get by on the amount we produ€ced and consumed seventeen years ago, we could cut back from the standard forty-hour week to 5.3 hours per day -- or 2.7 hours if we were willing to return to the 1948 level.

 

"But we cannot do it as individuals." The marketplace doesn't offer "a choice to work less and consume less. The reason is simple: that choice is at odds with the foundations of the marketplace itself -- at least as it is currently constructed. The men and women who masterminded the creation of the consumerist society understood that theirs was a political undertaking, and it will take a powerful political movement to change course today." 

 

In a sort of rebuttal to PJ O'Rourke's suggestion (above) that democracy might mean having our clothing choices, e.g., determined by the majority (of shoppers, i.e., teen girls), Kaplan notes that Edward Bernays, "one of the founders of the field of public relations and a principal architect of the American Way," decreed that "the choices available in the polling booth are akin to those at the department store; both should consist of a limited set of offerings that are carefully determined by what Bernays called an 'invisible government' of public-relations experts and advertisers working on behalf of business leaders. Bernays claimed that in a 'democratic society' we are and should be 'governed, our minds ...  molded, our tastes formed, our ideas suggested, largely by men we have never heard of.'"

 

 

>>  "Engines of Emotional Pollution"  (continues here) by Steven Stosny, Ph.D., in Psychology Today, posits four mechanisms that "govern most human interactions:" contagion, attunement, negative bias, and reactivity.

 

Contagion for Stosny is "what makes you feel what the rest of the group feels."

Attunement is a type of contagion, or a response to it; it's when we match "the intensity and tone of [our] emotions with those of someone else." It's honouring the boundaries of social convention. Interestingly, "[a]lthough our unconscious sensitivity to others is almost always active when we're not alone, it is not always accurate, i.e., we sometimes misconstrue what other people are feeling. However, we are far more accurate in sensing what others feel than in knowing what they think. This disproportionate accuracy between sensing another's feelings and judging their thinking leads to most of our misunderstandings of one another." We're pretty accurate in knowing another person's feelings but in trying to account for what's behind them, we make wrong assumptions.

 

Negative bias is related to attunement: Our 'negative' emotions influence us more than our positive ones, and we 'tune in' to negative emotions more than we do to positive ones: "So if you come home from work in a fairly good mood and find that your spouse is brooding or upset, attunement will bring him or her up a little and you down a lot. To keep from being 'brought down' by the other's negative mood, many couples attempt to dull their sensitivity to the other's emotional world."

 

Reactivity: is "learned resistance to the unconscious pull of contagion and attunement." It can be obvious -- 'I'm not putting up with your attitude!' or passive, ignoring another's bad mood.

 

From a Girardian perspective, I found this paragraph, which speaks of interdividualism (as opposed to individualism) without naming it, enlightening:

 

"The aspect of reactivity that makes it difficult to see, let alone change, is its illusion of free will and ego independence, even 'authenticity.' You think that you are acting of your own volition and in your best interest, when you are merely reacting to someone else. We've all uttered (or at least thought) the most ironic of all statements, 'You're not going to bring me down!' As long as you're in this reactive mode, you are down -- reacting to negativity with negativity."

 

 

 

Following Jane's lead, I'm blogging the (visible) brands I use today:

 

 

7:15-7:45 a.m. 

Getting up, getting ready ... Zadro is the Shower Bug I listen to in the shower.

I'll note only this first use of Quilted Northern ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

 

7:45 a.m.

Getting dressed ... socks and necklace don't seem to have a brand on them ...

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

8:00 a.m. - 9:45 a.m.

What's happening in the virtual world?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

8:15 a.m.

Dog feeding and cooking rice for future dog meals ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

8:45 a.m.

Feeding me, vitamins (some are not branded), cleaning up ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

9:45 a.m.

Going out -- need jacket, gum, shoes, and a treat for the dog ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

11:00 a.m.

Returning-home treat for the dog ...

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

11:00 - 11:52 a.m.

Now what's happening in the virtual world?

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

11:52 a.m.

Going out again for a walk ...

 

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

12:05 p.m.

Got a phone call while walking ...

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

1:00 - 1:30 p.m.

Home and reconnecting ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

1:27 p.m.

Water plus tonic water ... Lunch was leftovers in a non-brand plastic container, so no brands to record. Then in the garden.

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

1:50 - 2:00 p.m.

Playing with the dog ...

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

2 - 2:30 p.m.

Working out ... weights don't seem to be branded ...

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

2:52 p.m.

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

3:00 -  3:40 p.m.

Watched taped "Workout" and blogged, read online, etc. ...

 

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

4:50 p.m.

Did dishes. Oh joy. (Swept earlier, but no brand names on broom or dustpan.)

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

5:15-5:30 p.m.

Made cornbread to accompany leftovers for dinner. Most cornbread ingredients not name-brand.

 

 

 

 

 

 ________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

5:35-6:10 p.m.

Reading the paper online and doing email as cornbread cooks and before heating up leftovers ....

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

5:42 p.m.

Dog eats again.

 

 

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

6:15-6:55 p.m.

Dinner (leftovers, cornbread, and half of Christmas beer) and TV. Dog goes out.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

7:00 - 9:30 p.m.

Reading. Drinking tea. One phone call.

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

9:55 p.m.

Dog to bed.

 

 

 

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

 

10:00 p.m.

 Evening ablutions.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yesterday, I thought I did nothing. Nothing worth the while, nothing to reflect on, nothing 'good.' I probed that, feeling that I had done something, and something worthwhile, even if it was nothing that fit the cultural and partially internalised rubric of worthiness, and came up with this list of what I chose to do (and what I chose not to do):

 

I slept late because I was tired from dreaming.

I listened to some of Morning Edition on NPR.

I made the bed. 

I watered house plants and hanging plants.

I clicked on the Animal Rescue site and all the other rescue sites. 

I read and responded to email, including listservs. I read my feeds via Bloglines several times during the day.

I entered the HGTV "Green Home" sweepstakes, as I do every day (until this Friday). 

I did two loads of 'dog' laundry (her blankets, bedding, etc.) and a load of dishes.

I reconciled the checkbook with the bank account online.

I made a batch of brown rice for the dog. 

I moved money from a sweep account at an online brokerage into a mutual fund there.

I did minor research of a house for sale in town (pure curiosity). 

I took photos in the garden and watched the robins build their nest. I looked for the snake but didn't find it. I put the photos online at my Flickr account.

I weeded the yard/garden.

I stroked the neighbour's cat in my garden, while I was digging dirt, and I kept my dog, who was sunning herself on the deck, from attacking the cat. (It was rather dramatic and required strategy.) 

I planted lettuce and arugula in containers on the deck. 

I tracked down and printed a cookie recipe (but didn't make it).

I imitated the seagulls' cries.

I wrote two blog entries for my 'work' blog. 

I didn't do any editing of my 'work' website, other than the blog.

I didn't write an author's profile though I have the notes for it. I didn't edit another author's profile, though she sent me edits.

I swept the kitchen and hallway.

I listened to the Rev. Jeremiah Wright taking questions at the National Press Club on NPR (missed the first part).

I blogged here. 

I spent 10 minutes trying to figure out what to wear for a walk outside.

I took a walk downtown and did a few errands. I bought a heavy item and carried it home because I knew my spouse would appreciate it. (compassion, or earning merit?)

I bought a small gift for a friend.

I rehearsed fantasy (un)conversations in my head.

I took a half-hour online Harris survey that involved determining our net worth (omitting real estate) and exactly what percentages of it are in what kinds of investments.

I did my daily half-hour weights and stretching workout.  

I watched bits of "Red Green," sports talk shows, "What Not To Wear," "House Hunters," and "It's Me or the Dog," amounting to about an hour of TV. I taped "House MD" to watch later.  

I didn't watch any Kentucky Derby coverage because it made me sad and angry. I signed a letter online via PETA concerning horse-racing (I amended the letter a bit).

I re-heated Chinese leftovers for dinner. (Happy Cinco de Mayo! ;-))

I talked with a few friends via email and one briefly on the phone. Except for my spouse and dog, I didn't have a face-to-face interaction with anyone I know.

I wrote a grocery list and a short list of things to do this week. 

I read and finished a crime novel. 

I wrapped another gift for another friend and got it ready to mail. 

I didn't read anything scholarly.

I didn't do a crossword puzzle. 

I didn't drive or ride anywhere. 

I didn't make any money.

I didn't volunteer anywhere.

I prayed and meditated but rarely as discrete actions.

 

This series at CNN Money, which presents more than 50 brief, first-person profiles of individuals and families struggling financially with job loss, downsizing, reduced home values, student loans, gas and food prices, etc., is enlightening and disheartening at the same time. I empathised with the stories of many folks; this one really speaks to me.