Amber

Roller Derby

2011-10-11T16:52:00.001-05:00

As of Sunday, I have been moved up a level on my roller derby team. I am now level II Fresh Meat. Meaning, I can scrimmage with the team and I am one step closer to making the bouting roster. I still haven't decided 100% on my derby name but I've got a few contenders. I'll keep you posted.

A Cinderella Moment

2011-09-12T17:52:00.001-05:00

The kitchen floor in our current rented home is - or once was - white linoleum. I hate it. It is disgusting. Instead of white it is more a coat of many colors that grease and grime gave to me. I've tried every cleaner on the market and even purchased a steam cleaner, but it never gets any less dingy.

Today while cleaning the kitchen I decide that I should do some old fashion brush and scrub on my knees to improve the floors appearance. Here is a quiz for you, after deciding my course of action did I:

A. change into a Cinderella-esque costume
B. Change into old sweats and tank top
C. Just pull of my pants and do it in my undies

If you guessed C you either know me too well or are kinda perverted. I couldn't risk having an A.D.D moment and losing momentum by going into another room. So down on my knees in my skivvies with a brush and pot of really hot water, seriously like burning hot, I begin my medieval attack on the floor.

30 minutes later and half the floor to go, I loose steam and decide the brush and mop need to have a death match. I do the rest of the floor with the same cleaning ingredients, but with a mop instead of the brush. The second half took all of five minutes. Upon inspection of the outcome, I have decided this:

Cinderella's fairy-god mother was a BITCH. She should have given her a mop. There is no difference between the two sides of my floor. Cinderella could have cut her work load in half, had time to hire out her services in order to make some money and buy a pair of properly fitting shoes. I mean really how do we even know this Prince was in fact "charming"? What if he turned out to be Henry VIII? A mop would have looked pretty good to Anne Boleyn I bet.

In conclusion, I have this to say to all you ladies: Don't lose your head. Use a mop!

Cowboy Coffee Rub

2011-08-05T12:43:00.004-05:00

For dinner last night, I made an excellent steak rub of coffee and spices (see the following recipe). I've had mediocre coffee rubbed steak at the Grand in Big Timber, but I knew I could take the basis of that recipe, and turn it into some thing spectacular.

My canvas, a poor cut of angus petit loin, was greatly improved by the rub. It turned an undesirable slice of meat into a tasty morsel.

Kevin at first was dubious, and announced with a look of disdain and an air of I-don't-eat-weird-shit-on-steak that he would have his without. It only took a mere whiff of the concoction to change his mind. He later apologized (many times) and excused his snobbishness on the basis of not understanding: "I thought you were just going to rub coffee grounds into it." As if I would do something so simple, and unrefined! Harumph!

As I said before, the steak, an offering from the local Albertson's, was not the best, but when it is your only option what can you do. Kevin on the heels of each apology said, "This is excellent it would be out of this world on a nice cut of beef." Basically, he would have eaten dog food with this rub he had previously snubbed. I told him that was the purpose of the rub hence the name: Cowboy Coffee Rub.

Working cowboys were not privy to luxury and the best of the table; they often ate the poorer cuts of beef and flavored them with what ever they had in their chuck wagon or saddle bag. A stroke of brilliance really when they used ground coffee. Many of today's best loved foods come from the less sophisticated culinary world. Fajitas, for instance, were made from the undesirable parts of beef that were given to the vaqueros and the resulting dish has turned into a Tex-Mex staple. Simple. Good.

As the Mexican vaquero introduced the world to fajitas, I am introducing Kevin to the world of weird shit on steak. The coffee rubbed steak will be a staple at our Crazy Tooth home, and when you come for a visit don't expect less; however, there is no need to wait. Run out right now, buy some beef, fix this rub, fire up the grill (infrared for you Bry) and within minutes you will have a tasty dinner.

Buen provecha, Eet smakelijk, bon appetit,

Cowboy Coffee Rubbed Steak

Ingredients:

1 1/2 teaspoon chili powder

2 teaspoon finely fresh coffee ( I used french roast where some use espresso)

1/4 teaspoon dry mustard

1/4 teaspoon ground coriander

1/4 teaspoon salt

1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black pepper

1/4 teaspoon paprika

1/4 teaspoon cayenne pepper

*some people add 1/4 teaspoon of brown sugar, but I had omitted it due to low calorie restrictions.

This makes enough for two 8-10oz portions. I did a slight olive oil rub into the meat before coating the top bottom and sides in the coffee mixture,and grilled about 6-7 minutes a side until the desired temperature was reached.

Closed

2011-05-26T11:32:00.000-05:00

Remember that saying: If the good Lord's willing and the creeks don't rise? Well they hath risen; therefore ending my service in Lavina a little earlier than expected. Montana is socked in with all the rain we've had. Billings had record fall just a few days ago. Rivers and creeks have over flown their banks, and the last little bridge connecting Lavina from the rest of the world was in a state of purgatory when I left this morning.

I walked into the cafeteria to say my good byes this morning and only 5 lonely high school kids were there. The bridge according to the mt.gov site was already closed but no one at school had been informed. The power lines were precariously close to falling into the river when I drove over. Our superintendent doesn't communicate/make decisions/ or show leadership well; so I let the mt road officials make my decision and headed home before the local sheriff could follow through and enforce the closer.

As they close the highway 3 from Broadview to Lavina, I close another chapter in my teaching book.

Woman of the Year

2011-05-01T10:37:00.001-05:00

I know you all are use to my blog being about me, what I like, what I want, what I did, but today I'm dedicating this post to Kevin's beautiful daughter, Katie Gustainis. Being a former coach of Katie, I would like to take credit for all her accomplishments. Kidding, I kid, I kid, I know you love a kidder. She just proves I haven't warped my students.

Miss Gustainis has received the Woman of the Year award from West Texas A&M. I am so very proud to know such an accomplished young woman, and look forward to seeing her continued growth and education in Boston.

Katie will be attending Emerson college this fall after her marriage to former Man of the Year and soon to be Luckiest Groom of the Year, Tim Vela. On their own these two are outstanding people both personally and professionally, and together they will take Boston by storm.

I think I'll make a shirt with her picture holding her Woman of the Year trophy and a caption that reads: I know her!

Congratulations Katie, I'm proud of you.

Recipe for Friends

2011-04-07T21:10:00.000-05:00

For Rachel and Aaron,

Remember the shrimp tacos we use to make with the soy, ginger, lime, and cilantro? I turned that into a fancy ramen noodle dish that I make when Kevin is away. I made it today using your favorite chicken death sauce. Et schmakalik!

Boil 3 cups chicken stock and 1 cup water
Add 2 packs of noodles boil 3 minutes then add about a quarter cup soy, juice of 2 limes and grate a finger length of ginger. (I have added the chicken flavor packs but I've done it without too.) Then, put a table spoon, or more, of chicken death sauce.
In your bowls put chopped green onions, thin sliced mushrooms and diced silken tofu with chopped cilantro.
Ladle noodles and broth in bowl.

I miss cooking with you guys!

Down But Not Out

2011-04-07T14:46:00.001-05:00

I have a terrible head cold complete with greenish grey gunk, and a stuffy nose that runs (how is that even possible?) a throat that feels ripped in two every time I cough, sneeze or hack (which is all I've been doing the passed 3 days), and through it all I've jeopardized hundreds of Montanans by not staying at home or wearing one of those hospital masks Michael Jackson made famous.

I woke up Monday with razor blades in my throat, and went down hill from there. We had parent teacher conferences on Tuesday, but luckily I only had two couples to contaminate. Yesterday, I helped spread my virus to hundreds of high school students by chaperoning our Quiz Bowl team. I was sent home at noon by my fellow co-workers. Did I follow their advice and go to the clinic? NOPE.

In my stubborn attempt to keep up with my fitness routine, I made Kevin take my grumpy wheezy ebola infected self out on a bike ride. I would have used profanity the entire time had I been able to breathe, but instead I worked through it. I think snails were going faster than me. I am pretty sure I was passed up by an old man with a cane and a two legged dog (could have been a hallucination). Did I mention I had to take an hour nap before we rode? Then I rested for 45 minutes (maybe I was unconscious) before going to my first roller derby practice.

I really had to suck it up there, not only did I have to skate for the first time since my 1996 debut as a roller derby dance queen for Vernon Regional Junior College, but I had to try and not fall down while actually attempting to fall down properly. Oh and there were push-ups and crunches with deep knee bends, and spandex. It was lovely. I managed to keep the hacking and thick green fluids to minimum, and I think I did pretty good. They invited me back for next weeks practice so it couldn't have been too bad.

If I made it through day 1 of derby feeling like a zombie think of how well I'll do when I am well. I just hope I don't get Typhoid Mary as my nick name. After all the shenanigans of the week, I did decide to do my rundown system a favor and stay home today. I also needed to file my taxes, clean before company arrives and walk around with a tissue shoved up my nose and an ice pack on my derby bruises.

Speed Wobbles

2011-04-02T21:12:00.001-05:00

I got a new Revel MTB Giant today. (That's a mountain bike)Kev and I took a ride this afternoon. We started easy just on the path by the house,but then we ended up below the rims on some trails that had a few ups and downs, and at one point I got the speed wobbles and scared myself. I had to hit the breaks to feel in control; then, I didn't have enough speed to make it back up the hill and almost fell over when I stalled out.

I have never owned any sort of bike with gears so I was on a learning curve too. When we got back to the house, I was beat and may have thrown up in my mouth a little bit. My taint is really hurty, but McKay at the Billings Bike Shop insured me that would diminish after a time. I hope so, but I figure my new carreer as a Derby Dame may be a bit more painful than my new bruised taint.

Remember when I was Badass

2011-04-01T12:12:00.002-05:00

When I was little I was tough, I bet up some kids, knocked a few older boys down, kicked some ass pretty much, but lately I've been lame. I haven't even fallen down or had a Spanish-speaking washing machine to contend with, but that all is about to change.

I'm joining the Billings Roller Derby Dames. I need material for my blog, and to fit into my size 6 jeans again. I decided to combine my workouts, effort to meet new people, and have a chance to knock someone down into one dynamic derby experience.

My first practice is next Wednesday. I've got to order some skates (I'll start with the basic "New Girl" rookie package for now but maybe one day I can upgrade to the "I got a Sugar Daddy" package) study the rules, and decide between pig tails, braids or one bitchin' pony tail.

I'm hoping for one bad ass nickname like: "Ambruiser", or Amber "Dawn of the Dead" Isaacs, or maybe "Ambufoo fighter". My Fresh Meat coordinator is called the "A-cup Annihilator" that's pretty awesome.

I guess I'm getting ahead of myself though. I have to pass the rules test before I can be assigned to a team within the BRDD.

So this weekend I'll be watching Kansas City Bomber and Whip It for inspiration, skating around my kitchen and studying my Women's Flat Track Derby Association rules.

Ballad of the Northland by Jason Barron

2011-03-21T08:57:00.001-05:00

Our school elementary is participating in a literacy campaign to promote reading in school children. This years theme: Iditaread

Readings and activities are centered around the Alaskan Iditarod, and later this month we will be honored with hosting a presentation by an Iditaread author, Jason Barron.

As a lover of books, I'm excited about the chance to meet an author. I just received a copy of Mr. Barron's book. As I sat here this morning preparing to read, I had an odd feeling of mixed emotions: excitement and concern.

"Wow, this man will actually be here. Someone who has published, someone who has had the mental fortitude to do what I aspire to do." Then, I thought "What if I don't like his book." It is only as I sit here now that I realize it doesn't matter if I like the book. Right, isn't that what a lit teacher tells her students? There is value in literature whether you "like" the story or not.

I was preparing to passively read this book, and what a disservice that would be to me, my students, and the author. I'm putting on my literary analysis pants and getting to work.

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on the bus

2011-03-10T07:57:00.001-06:00

We are on our way to the Lavina ski day at showdown mountain. One of my students, Courtney, has talked me into taking snowboard lessons. This may hurt.

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From Freezing to Phoenix

2011-03-03T20:23:00.000-06:00

Tomorrow I'm taking Kevin to meet my youngest oldest brother, Gary, and his wife, Angel. I can't wait it is suppose to be like 80 degrees there. I think it is suppose to snow here in Billings while we are gone.

I still love Montana, the snow, mountains, etc.., but I am ready to go some place warm for the weekend.

I think I may even pack some shorts, but then again....my legs are real WHITE, we will see.

just do it.

2011-02-28T08:39:00.001-06:00

With the help of all my available technology, I still can not seem to post regularly. You all will have to live with the insignificant trivial posts while I get back in the habit.

It is Monday, and I have no news or anecdotes to share, but I wanted to get back in the habit of posting.

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What do you mean he don't eat no meat

2011-02-26T19:57:00.002-06:00

I just made my first batch of tahini paste which I used for my first ever hummus undertaking. Kevin was never a fan of this lovely Mediterranean dish, but now he loves it.

It's been a world tour of foods today we had sushi and udon for lunch, and right now I have a fat boneless leg-o-lamb in the oven that I plan to serve with a nice Greek salad, lots of feta and of course pita and hummus.

Et shmackalik, buen provecha

Happy Holidays and Happy Birthday

2011-01-03T07:21:00.000-06:00

I just returned from my trip home to celebrate the new year with my soul blistas and in turn celebrate my mom's 70th birthday. I am beat I had to take a 3 hour nap when I got back. Right now Kevin is outside dealing with the car I ran out of gas (he's a KEEPER) and I am working on making Chiles Rellenos with poblano sauce. Well, technically I'm writing this, but the peppers are steaming in the brown paper bag.

I had a wonderful time back home, and everytime I go I can't get enough of the food that I love so for the next little while I'll be trying to recreate the flavors of home.

It was a shock to see my oldest brother at the birthday party. None of us thought he could make it with work and MaryJane having surgery, but he suprised us all and made the trip up from Houston.

It was a delight seeing all my nieces, nephews and their children. My family is huge and I feel like a barely know the little ones. I'll have to correct that as much as I can this year.

Gas-N-GO

2010-12-30T14:27:00.000-06:00

In my excitement to get on the road today, I Failed to realize that when your gas Gage tells you that you have 28 miles until you run out of gas that you should not let your car idle for 20 minutes in the drive way. I just wanted to defrost the windows and melt the 5 inches of snow that have fallen in the last 24 hours. Now I am stuck here waiting on a ride and have become fodder for jokes. Yuk it up people, yuck it up.

wooo wooo wooo

2010-10-13T19:33:00.000-05:00

Fire Drill.

Oh the exciting life of a high school teacher
smokin' in the boys room
trash on fire
Give those back
them are mine!

Happy Meals

2010-10-10T21:44:00.001-05:00

Things around here are just starting to slow down. I hate to admit it, but Kevin and I had been eating way too much frozen/takeout pizza. We have made a few good things here and there, but today we were back on track.

After sleeping late (so late my back started to hurt from laying there so long), we got up and made breakfast. Kevin made a mean dish of homefries with bell pepper, onion and garlic to go with the delicious chicken apple sausage we had purchased the day before and the perfect eggs he always makes. I made my first ever batch of biscuits, cheddar-sour cream biscuits that is. I had a little jellied cranberry left over from a few nights before, and that with the biscuit/sausage combo was a ride on the flavor train.

With our bellies full of scrumdiddleyumptiousness, we set about our day's labor. The weather here was gorgeous maybe it reached 80 today, but it felt much cooler with the breeze and shade. After the daily chores, Bubba begged us to take him hiking on the rims. It was beautiful up on top looking down at the town and the trees with their leaves turning all golden yellow, red and orange.

Hiking is hard work and makes you really hungry. For dinner, Kevin and I made our first ever red curry with chicken and rice. Man-o-man was it good. We both could eat it again this week. Maybe twice. I'm hoping our two delicious meals catapult us back into the habit of cooking really good food that make us both happy.

For those who may want the recipe check back tomorrow.

Dumbass Attack

2010-09-25T18:49:00.000-05:00

I've done it this time. Instead of listening to those who know better, Jessica and Kevin. I decided that yes, I need bangs, and I need them now, today, just this moment as I'm passing by the bathroom.

Worst idea EVER. What am I twelve? Well that's what it looks like. I looks as if a roving band of 5 year olds, tied me down Gulliver's Travels style and took a machette to my hair. TERRIBLE, terrible, terrible, terrible. I can't say it enough terrible.

Hello Hats. Good thing it's fall hats are in this season. I wonder if I can change the school policy to allow them inside.

Oh well, as Kevin says: "They'll grow out....in 6 weeks."

Good Times and Noodle Salad

2010-08-12T13:17:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow my sister, Janet, arrives from Texas. I'm very excited. I'm driving to Missoula today (should be doing that now instead of this) so that I only have to drive 3 1/2 hours to pick her up in Spokane, Wa.

She requested a visit to that bar with the swing, The Lumberjack. They have live music on Friday and Saturday so it will be tons of fun. We will visit on Friday night. Saturday we are going to the farmer's markets in downtown Missoula then on to Philipsburg for some sapphire mining at Gem Mountain. Followed by a night at the Philipsburg Opera House.

Sunday we are off to the derby. The demolition derby that is. No, we are not participating. We are going to watch a friend, Todd, and his son participate in the Western Montana Fair Demolition Derby. This should be exciting. After a lazy day floating the Black Foot river, I think we will not some hot dusty crash 'em up excitement.

Monday and Tuesday we will prowl around the mountain sides and visit Hamilton and Darby with a trip over the Skalkho pass down to Anaconda for antiquing and ladies lunch.

Wednesday we head back to Spokane. We're lodging at The Hotel Ruby, because Janet's flight is at the crack of down on Thursday. She doesn't know it, but I'll be returning to the hotel and sleep some more after I drop her off. While in Spokane I think we will try out one of two places that piqued my interest either the Catacombs Pub or Anthony's Home Port at Spokane Falls. Maybe we will do both. I've heard there is shopping and some cultural stuff there too.

It's going to be GRRREAT. I'll post next week with some photos of our journey. I wish you all could come up and visit. You need to sometime soon!

It's Not About Me

2010-08-06T10:05:00.001-05:00

I realize my last post may have sounded a bit narcissistic. I am 100% excited about Jess's wedding and completely honored to be the maid of honor. I'm just embarrassed about my size, and I don't want to ruin the photos and stuff by appearing as Fat Frumpy Girl. So no, it's not about me, all about Jess and Bryan.

I can't wait to see how beautiful she looks in her dress. I know she has worked very hard to coordinate the wedding and make sure everything goes off without a hitch. I am particularly excited about the reception where I plan on doing the Macarena and the Chicken dance. Just Kidding.

The Pressure of Pretty

2010-08-04T17:14:00.001-05:00

I've been searching for a dress to wear to Jessica's wedding. It wasn't until the bachelorette party that I realized I need to stop searching and actually purchase a dress. Like a lot of brides maids, I made the fatal error of intending to lose weight, but not actually doing it. I had book marked all these fabulous dresses that the thinner me would wear. Last week in my state of panic, I purchased a dress that was brown and boring. I think it was an outward expression of my inner uncomfortableness.The few times I went to try on dresses was so disappointing I developed an aversion to brides maid dresses. All week long I cringed when I thought of the dress. Not that it isn't a nice dress, but it is NOT nice enough form my best friend's wedding. When I thought of finding another dress I would start to sweat.

I had to build my self up and deal with the voluptuous situation I've found myself in. I found the dress and it's beautiful.

That other Language

2010-07-28T10:33:00.000-05:00

I've been neglecting my blog in the most serious fashion so far this year. I have attempted to correct it by signing up for mobile blogging (that is when you send text from your phone to post to your blog). It seems that the cell phone posts didn't decode (I'm pretending to know the correct technical term) properly and my last few posts look as if they were written in an alien tongue.

So no, I have not been to busy learning another language. I've just been busy/lazy...a combination of both we'll call it blazy.

Rewind..Let's catch up with what is going on with me.

I got a job! Most of you already know this. I'll be working in Lavina, Mt as the high school English teacher.

All the World's a stage...

This is my class room. It use to be one room, the Auditorium, and now it's two. You can see the table with chairs to the far left, directly behind that is the wall and those are my student desks. This will be interesting. I've been working hard making the necessary plans and I am really excited about teaching Literature. I'm a bit nervous about the grammar/punctuation, if you read my posts you'll understand why, but with all the teaching resources available to me I should be fine.

In the photo below you will see the original building with it's newer addition. all 75, PreK-12th, students are housed here. I love the older portion to the left. My class is located on the second floor over looking the football field in back.

Lavina Public School

I'm fairly certain that the grammar books in my class are from 1965, seriously. The Lit books are from 1996. I have some challenges to face, but with the support of the school, community, Kevin, and my Barnes and Noble wish list I can be successful. Yes, I'm pandering. If you find yourselves with an overwhelming need to give to charity please gift a book to my class. I think the contributions would be tax write-off, I'll double check.

School starts in 28 days. I still have quite a bit of work to do, but first let me recap the rest of my summer.

We have had plenty of visitors. Sean, Tara and Mason Morgan visited us from Wewoka, Oklahoma. Together, we all went on a three hour tour of Montana that lasted 6 days. Sean almost drowned in Rock Creek and Tara was terrified of the vault toilets. We stayed at a wonderful historic homestead and had a large time boiling water and eating beans.

Next to visit were my folks, Mack and Bea, with my niece and nephew, Tayah and Tucker. We saw dog-bears and deer-moose, had a snowball fight, white water rafted, ate strawberries and had a jolly ol' time.

Then Wyatt came to visit and we saw more of this great state including Como Lake, near Hamilton, and drove over the Skalkaho Pass, where we saw a cinnamon bear. We toured the Lewis and Clark Caverns,Camped, Hiked and then went to Texas. Once in Texas, we met up with the rest of the Gustainis clan and fished.

I left the family reunion a bit early for Jessica's bachelorette party. I'm pleased to report that we all survived.

Kevin and I returned home from the family reunion/bachelorette party last night. I'm exhausted from the whirl wind trip, but my first priority was to update the blog. I've missed posting on it, and I'm sure my family and friends would like to read it without having to interpret another language.

Off Means Off

2010-06-20T14:25:00.006-05:00

TURN YOUR PHONE OFF, RUDE! That's what I wanted to say to the lady sitting 2 rows in front of me at the local theater last night. I like Community Theater, and I can generally perform the much needed "willing suspension of disbelief" that it takes to engage in passive viewing of mediocre performances; however, when the stupid idiot in the ugly pants takes out her phone and begins to text during the first act, I get a bit aggravated. I was slightly annoyed. I was sending her the following thought “ It's dark in here lady that light is like a beacon signaling everyone beside and behind you to look at you instead of the art being created 2 feet in front of you”.

I think she was writing a novel. If I had a blow dart.... It gets worse, she does this throughout the first act, and near the end her phone rings. IT RINGS, people. So yeah she had it on vibrate, but you can still here that. I mean in a small theater that seats 150 you can hear a mouse fart. I was murderously annoyed at this point. She must have been adding a second volume to her already drawn out textography. It gets worse, a few minutes later (mind you there is a 10 minute intermission coming up soon) in the middle of act II she gets up and scooches her way past all the people in order to go out. She was in the second row, how annoying. I hate her, her phone and her stupid pants.

Okay, so that I sound like a total wet blanket let me expound on the rest of the night. The play, The Long Weekend, while it was predictable was also entertaining. I laughed out loud many times. Despite my earlier ranting, I very much enjoyed it, until the hyena next to me started cackling. Remember how I was talking about mouse farts and theater acoustics? Well this lady obviously thought she was at the bottom of the Grand Canyon and needed to really project her laughter when something was funny. At one point, it was so loud that the people around her, employing their indoor laughs, actually stopped and looked at her. I know because I did too, and her husband had that mortified woman-shut-the-hell-up-it-wasn't-THAT-funny look on his face.

What happened to Emily Post and her social etiquette followers? Obviously there are people who need an appropriate public behavior seminar. I'll be the guest speaker, and I'll bring a cattle prod. Despite the fact that people can't use their indoor laughs or follow the rules in a public theater, they can give a standing ovation. This is yet another thing that annoys me. It's like the equivalent to everybody wins. NO THEY DON"T, some people don't win. There has to be a loser or else it's not a competition. Equally true, not all plays are standing O worthy. I was just waiting for the Hyena to blurt “BRAVO, BRAVO!” while in the spotlight of Ms. Ugly Pants’ text screen.

A Teacherin'

2010-05-27T12:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I had my first Montana teaching interview. The day before I was near tears after spending 2.5 hours in the Missoula Dillard's trying to find just the right outfit. I left bound and determined to find something that Said: Hey-Lookit-I'm-A-Dignified-Perfect-For-This-Small-Town-Teacher. This is what I found:

A Teacherin' by Ambu on Polyvore.com

Kevin said it was perfect. Actually he said it was "parochial", but I took that as a good thing. I was anxious to get the interview over and done with. I think it went well. The people were great, and the school reminded me very much of Ponder. It was kind of weird, but I think Broadview, the town, would be a great place to get back into teaching. It has everything I liked about teaching in Aubrey. So we will see. Finger's crossed.

Greek Mythology

2010-05-19T16:05:00.001-05:00

In my college literary classes, I learned that the Greek Gods were beautiful, strong, sometimes grumpy and often at war with one another; but they lived on Mt. Olympus and ate Ambrosia. We were led to believe that ambrosia was divinely delicious made only for those who reside in the heavens. While teaching The Lightening Thief, I learned that for each God or demigod the flavor of ambrosia was personal. For Percy, the main character, it was the flavor of his mother’s homemade cookies.

No matter what ambrosia may be I know it’s not Greek Gods Greek Yogurt, because that stuff tastes like sour cream. I’ve read many different articles touting the benefits of Greek yogurt over regular yogurt. I read the label and saw for myself it only had 60 calories and 0 fat with 6 grams of protein. The label even read “Thick and creamy yogurt, full of body, and rich in taste.” HMM…Well, that is true enough if you like the flavor of sour cream.

Don’t get me wrong, there is nothing I love more than a dollop of daisy on my tacos, tamales or carnitas, but with bananas or blue berries.. I think not. I’m eating it for the sake of my health, but just so other consumers out there know. The ambrosial flavor of Greek yogurt is yet another classical myth.

Just Learning

2010-05-12T12:31:00.002-05:00

I'm trying to figure out how to blog away from my blogger. I've attempted several times to post from my cell, but I must be doing it wrong. So here is attempt one at email posting. We'll see.

New Noodles

2010-05-12T11:22:00.001-05:00

I've not only been lazy about blogging I've been lazy bones in the kitchen too. Sometimes it seems as if we eat the same thing over and over. We've been in a rut here lately with weekly servings of spaghetti, roasted chicken and potatoes, red meat with garlic salad, pizza and more chicken. Granted all of that is homemade, with the exception of the pizza. Kevin has been great about cooking while I was working late and on weekends, but now that my summer hiatus has officially begun I've decided it's time to get back to what I do best...experimenting in the kitchen.

I wanted to make Asian food last night, but I don't have a large repertoire of Asian recipes floating around in my head. I grabbed an issue of Fine Cooking hoping for a great new recipe. I found an article entitled Use Your Noodle which listed recipes using a range of Asian style noodles. I have limited knowledge of cooking with Asian noodles, Top Ramen being my only real experience; however, I decided to try something new because the recipe for rice noodles with shrimp and cilantro was exactly what I had in mind for dinner.

Kevin loves spicy and this dish called for red bell pepper and jalapeno. I knew he could fire it up with some chicken death sauce, and I could be content with the limey, fresh cilantro summer sun flavor of the sauce.

I kept a close eye on my sauce whenever Kevin was near for fear he would sabotage it with Tabasco. It turned out great the peppers gave it a nice flavor without being HOT and Kevin enjoyed the additional hellfire he placed in his own bowl.

I had a little trouble with the noodles. I cooked them according to the directions below, but some of the noodles were still hard. The package read that you should soak them in hot water for 45 minutes, but mentioned nothing of the boiling that was called for in the recipe. Since the recipe didn't turn out the results I wanted, I soaked the parboiled noodles in hot water while I finished the rest of the dish. This was sufficient to finish the noodles and keep them from getting cold.

Here is the recipe from Fine Cooking. I didn't do anything different other than use 11/2 limes instead of just 1 in the sauce and I used ponzu instead of regular soy.I like to boost the citrus flavor paired with the fish sauce, and I used a pound of the smaller shrimp. Ete Schmakalik!

Ingredients for 3-4 servings, but Kevin and I ate it all :)

6oz pad thai noodles
2 medium limes, i juiced and 1sliced in wedges for serving
11/2 tbs. packed brown sugar
2 tsp. soy sauce
1 tsp. fish sauce
3/4 lb. peeled and deveined large shrimp
3 tbs. canola or peanut oil - i used vegetable
1/2 tsp. ground coriander
1/2 medium bell pepper, cored, seeded and finely diced - I used the entire pepper.
1 medium jalapeno, seeded and finely diced
1 large shallot, finely diced - I used 2 medium
1/4 cup chopped fresh cilantro - I used a handful

For the noodles- Bring a medium pot of well-salted water to a boil. Add the noodles, lower the heat to gentle simmer and cook, stirring occasionally, (HUH, maybe that's why it didn't work so well for me I don't think I actually read ALL the directions. I definitely didn't stir or reduce to simmer.) until the noodles are just tender, 5 - 7 minutes. Transfer to a colander and run under cold water to cool slightly. Drain well.

For the sauce- combine the lime juice, sugar, soy sauce and fish sauce, set aside.

For the shrimp- toss with 1tbs. oil, coriander and 1/2 tsp ground black pepper, and 1/4 tsp salt.

Took Cook- heat 2 tbs. oil in a 12-inch nonstick skillet over medium-high heat until shimmering hot. Add the red pepper, jalapeno, and shallot, sprinkle with 1/4 tsp salt, and cook stirring, for 1 minute. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring, until it turns pink and is almost cooked through, about 2 minutes. Add the lime juice mixture and cook, stirring, until the shrimp is cooked through, about 1 minute more. Add the noodles and half of the cilantro: toss until the noodles heat through and pick up the sauce, 1 to 2 minutes.

To Serve- sprinkle with remaining cilantro and the lime wedges.

Law Abiding

2010-05-11T12:00:00.000-05:00

Today I’ve updated my status from “Card Carrying Resident” to “Law Abiding Citizen”. I finally registered mi coche to the great state of Montana and now have a blue license plate reading Treasure State.

And of course license plates makes me think of one of my all time favorite Hayes Carll songs. Can you guess which one?

It's Official

2010-05-05T10:55:00.000-05:00

I'm a resident, a card carrying Montananan. I finally went today to get my driver's license. I put on makeup did my hair and smiled nice for the camera, but they asked me how much I weighed, geez. I wanted to lie but didn't.

It was so easy to transfer from being a Texas driver to Montana. I made an appointment online, showed up at the right time, filled out a paper, showed some documents, had my foto taken, and bing bang boom I was licensed to drive in Montana all in under 5 minutes. AMAZING. I was expecting to be there much longer, but they've got it down here in Billings. I can say it was a very efficient, dang near pleasant, DMV experience.

Nook or Book

2010-04-07T11:26:00.000-05:00

I've been having an internal struggle lately. I have a love of the written word. Books are my friends, my movies, my vacations. In a book you have everything right in the palm of your hand, a movie in your mind and you get to choose the actors.

I love my books. I don't usually loan out my books because I would miss them. I have a room full of books in storage at my cousins house and I think about those books probably more than I think I about the cousin who houses them. (Sorry, Kell, I love you)

If someone puts a glass on my book, I get a little nuts. The summer when I went to Mexico, my bag was like 10 lbs over the weight limit so I had to take out books and stuff them into my backpack. I bought more books when I was in Mexico and sadly had to make the decision to leave some behind. I parted with them at the local public library in hopes that someone would love them as much as I did.

My delimma is this: I've been eyeing those ebook readers, like Barnes and Noble's Nook, and have been finding myself wanting one. I've pictured myself using it on my upcoming trip to Texas. I even checked to see if the two new books I want can be downloaded to it. But I love books themselves. The crinkle of the page. The tautness of a brand new binding. The smell of an old book dusty and aged. The crisp fresh inky smell of a brand spanking new book.

I have a fear that technology will take over the world and simple things like the hand written letter and books real books will disappear. I feel loyal to the hardback, partial to the paper back, but yet ever so intrigued by the slender, shiny, 1500 books at your fingertips appeal of the ereader.

OH, what am I to do!

Do I Love Spring

2010-03-28T19:58:00.000-05:00

When I Think

2010-03-02T15:06:00.000-06:00

I realized today what makes Kevin so different from the others. I can be any shade of me I want and it's okay with him. He doesn't mind when I shift gears from tom-boy to girly-girl and he doesn't judge when I'm stuck some where in the middle.

I was thinking about diamonds when I came to this realization. Not ring-finger diamonds, or even the pots and pans he bought last year but sheet metal, diamond plating.

There is more to this thought (it's profound and of a soul searching nature that one can only attain while doing things like cleaning sinks, floors and other mindless household chores) about diamond plating and how it relates to our relationship, but I haven't formulated a coherent expression yet.

I'll have to tear myself away from the blog now so that I can go back to my illuminating inner insight by way of scrubbing the toilets and a huge stack of dishes.

A New 'Do

2010-02-23T17:48:00.000-06:00

The Two of Us

2010-02-23T08:40:00.002-06:00

Make your Stick Figure Family at FreeFlashToys.com

Montana or Texas: A Quiz of Sorts

2010-02-11T18:25:00.000-06:00

1. This is a monster icicle. Is it

A. in Billings, Montana or B. Denton, Texas

2. At the time of this post, wunderground reported the current weather condition to be: Currently 32.4 °F, Snow Fog, Humidity: 96% , Wind: 1.0 mph from the NNE, Visibility: 0.5 miles, Dew Point: 31 °F.

Is this the report for:

A. Billings, Mt or B. Denton, Tx

3. According to infoplease.com, which state has the most state parks at 115?

A. Montana

B. Texas

4.Which state has 5 state forests?

A. Montana

B. Texas

Check tomorrow's post for answers.

False Memory

2010-02-11T17:33:00.000-06:00

Minds play tricks and my mind is very tricky. Jess and Brendee both pointed out that it was Beeffalo not Boofollow. OOPS. Hope I'm never called on to recreate a criminals face, it might not turn out right.

The Avett Brothers

2010-01-30T17:41:00.002-06:00

The other day while working out at the gym, I was watching Austin City Limits on PBS. ACL featured The Avett Brothers that day. I enjoyed them so much I ran out and purchased some songs on itunes and gifted two to Brendee and Jess and one to my brother Gary. I found the videos for the two songs I gifted on youtube.

I've been forcing Kevin to listen to them endlessly, and since you all aren't around for me to trap in the car and force feed you these songs, I'll just have to settle for hoping you see them here.

Enjoy

Boo-Fallow

2010-01-29T10:18:00.006-06:00

I've mentioned before that my friends and I adapted our own terminology after many years of being together. Some of the words were completely made up, some came from out-of-context usage, others from misspellings, and others still from our differing dialects and pronunciations. The etemology of several vocabulary words come from the Dutch accented pronunciation of regular things. For example: Blister - Blista.

To the outsider, these are silly sayings that don't mean much, but for me and mine each word conjures up a potent memory. A time none of us will forget.

Let me try to explain. The last apartment that Brendee and I shared together was only a few miles from our previous location. No need for a moving truck we just enlisted the help of my Dad's truck, Jessica, Rachel, Aaron and Archie also took the time to load a few beds and boxes. In the middle of this moving, We recieved a visit from Kevo's dad. We felt obliged to be hospitable to our friend's parents who took the trip across the Big Pond. During on a dinner break to meet and greet papa Vandrunen, it was decided that a trip to Shreveport, La. was necessary.

We abandoned our packing and hauling and loaded up for our road trip. On this trip, The Texas country side was in full Autumn splendor, the foliage and wildlife on display for our foreign visitor's gratification. It was at a pit-stop that Kevin's dad added the word Boo-Fallow to our vernacular. "Look a Buffalo!" We giggled at his Dutch pronunciation of the American Bison. To this day, Buffalo in any form is Boo-Fallow to me and that weekend in Shreveport is brought to mind.

In honor of that memory, I've termed my delicious dinner from last night The Great Amberican Boo-Fallow Chicken.

It is breathtaking isn't it? Look at the golden crust that looks crispy and juicy at the same time. This was achieved by roasting the chicken in the over at 400 degress perched atop a can of beer (placed in a roasting pan to catch the drippings) for moisture, and slathered in a Buffalo wing sauce (recipe to follow). I basted the chicken every 20 minutes or so and the result was devine.

The chicken was paired with a salad of greens, radishes, carrots and cucumber with blue cheese crumbles and Lighthouse blue cheese vinaigrette, and a double fermented Oregon Indian Pale Ale.

To make the Boo-Fallow sauce assemble the following ingredients:

1 stick butter

4 Tbs brown sugar

5 Tbs tomato sauce

1/4 tsp each of the following: garlic powder, onion powder, pepper, chili powder and salt

1 tsp oregano

1 dash of beer

red pepper flakes to taste

1/2 cup of hot sauce ( I used Frank's, and it wasn't too spicy. Add more or less to your liking)

Melt the butter and sugar in a sauce pan and then combine the rest of the ingredients, adjusting the spices to your taste. Simmer to combine flavors and then brush on chicken before placing in over. Baste the chicken with sauce throughout the cooking process.

Use a meat thermomenter so you know when the chicken is fully cooked, around 180. I think I cooked it at 400 for 45-50 minutes. Let chicken rest before carving. The skin will be crisp and tasty, with a slight sweet coat from the brown sugar and pleasant pepper kick and a boquet of spices and vinegar.

Medieval Torture Device

2010-01-29T09:34:00.001-06:00

There are certain times in a person's life when they are compelled to help others. Today, I have the task of helping Kevin remodel his office. My job for the after noon is to remove a wall paper border the former occupant of his office flung up at some point in the past.

One would think that a border would be easy. Maybe it will be, but my two previous attempts at removing wall paper have been painful or daunting. My first experience included a device used to perforate the paper so that steam can get behind and release the adhesive. That instrument looked eerily similar to this medieval Skull-Mace

If you know me well, you know I don't generally wear shoes while in the house. Since my first wall paper experience was in the new home of a friend, I was of course shoeless - on a ladder-precariously positioned directly above that scary looking pointy thing. I stepped on it, blood gushed from my foot and Heather rushed me to the bathtub, no need to make her new room look like a torture chamber doused in bright red Amber blood.

Every time I even think about wall paper I get a sharp prickle in the bottom of my foot. The second wall paper fiasco was in service of Kevin, and while it wasn't painful, it was a pain in the ass. Just ask Kev.

I've been trying to convince him to mud over the wall paper...Maybe if I bring the Mace I can convince him.

Mexican Melt Down

2010-01-28T15:08:00.002-06:00

For dinner the other night, Kevin and I made an amazing soup and sandwich combo. After watching an episode of Triple D, we both wanted to try jalapeno pesto.

In order to feel a certain ownership of recipes, I'm not one for following an origional recipe too closely. Well that, and sometimes I'm not paying attention. For this pepper pesto we used 1 bunch of cilantro, 2 jalapenos, 1 serrano, 2 cloves garlic and an unmeasured amount of pecorino romano (if I were pressed to say, I would guess some where around 1/3 of a cup) the juice of 1/2 a lime, and a good drizzling of olive oil. We stopped adding the oil when the consistency looked right to us.

To accompany our new relish, Kevin marinated and grilled flank steak. Let me just add that it was about 17 degrees out when we were making dinner, and Kevin braved the winter temps to cook on the open fire. That's my man.

We assembled the pesto and meat with some pepper jack cheese, avocado mayo, sweet grilled onions and a bell pepper medly.

The sandwiched was partnered with a spicey roasted red bell pepper and tomato soup. We roasted then sweated and peeled the red bell pepper, threw it in a pot of simmering chicken stock, then added cherry tomatoes that had been drizzled with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, salt, pepper and dried oregano and oven roasted for 12 minutes at 400. I had also oven roasted a few cloves of garlic that were mixed in to the soup. A stick blender was used to liquify the chunks and give the soup a wonderful creamy texture.

The soup and sandwich pairing was excellent. The soup had a robust redbell pepper flavor and slight vinegar finish. The tomatoes were the unseen hero. The sandwich was like a flavor maze. One bite was meaty cheesy wonderfulness, the next a sweet and tangy trio of white onion, red and yellow bell pepper, lurking in the shadows of the suprising not so spicy jalapeno pesto was the creamy avocado goddess.

Snakes

2010-01-18T10:28:00.001-06:00

I dreamed last night that I was riding in a truck with my parents when a snake slithered up under my hair and attached itself to my right earlobe. My dad was trying to keep me calm while my mother was telling me not to make things worse by trying to pull it off or shake my head around.

My dad apparently knew a snake charmer and was taking me there right away. As I sat there freaking out on the inside the snake curled it's tail up like a chin strap and stuck it into my other ear. I noticed at this point that it was red and black and smooth, but that didn't make me feel any better.

When we get to the snake charmer place we get out of the truck and it is cold, so so cold. I decide the cold is a good thing because I remembered that snakes are warm blooded, and I was hoping that instead of sucking the blood out of my body through my earlobe (because this is a dream so it was a vampire snake) it would freeze and just fall off. Standing around in the fridge night air the snake first gets lethargic and his tail comes out of my left ear and I notice the bold and vibrant black and red has started to turn to a sickish greenyellowgray color and it's body is getting longer like taffy when you pull it. It releases my earlobe but the tail get's caught in my hair. As it swings down from my head it takes a half harted chomp out of my right hand because I tried to catch it, but realized too late you don't want to catch a vampire snake when it's finally fallen off your ear. The contact with my hand bounces the head over to my other hand. The movement of the snake and our brief entanglement has warmed it enough to revive it's killer instinct when it reattaches to my left thumb.

It is here in the dark still night that the snake charmer arrives. Over walks a tall Texas cowboy hat wearing version of the crocodile hunter. This man produces a pair of toe nail clippers, and I think "hey buddy I don't need a pedicure." but before I can protest his snips the head of and this stinging foaming white stuff oozes out of it's head and the body falls away. The snake charmer says in his texasutralian drawl "There's ya blood mate he didna get too much, ya'll are lucky."

And then I woke up.

Breakfast Lunch and Dinner

2010-01-14T21:33:00.001-06:00

I watch food network often, and lately they have been showcasing some amazing burgers. Because of the parade of meaty, cheesey, goodness that I've been watching, I've had severe cravings for a big juicy burger. I've tried to cure my hunger with fast food burgers but they just didn't cut the mustard, if you know what I mean. They are too thin, flavorless and not homemade.

So last night I had the time and the ingredients to make The Best Burger Ever on Toast. It was ground beef with salt, pepper, ground mustard, a bit of red pepper flake, cheese, pickles, tomatoes and topped with a fried egg. It was so good that I could have eaten for.... you know it...Breakfast, Lunch and Dinner. I almost did too, but last nights cheese slice was the last in the fridge and I slept too late to have breakfast or lunch before going to work. I'm making a taco pasta right now, due to the lack of cheese in the house, but I'm mentally savoring the flavor of last nights meaty masterpiece. Check it out, here's a bird's eye view of the tower of power.

Is that a perfect fried egg or what? You can see the cheddar slice playing peak-a-boo under umpty dumpty there. And LOOK at those pickels on top of the mayo slather. MMMMM.

Whoops! I smashed the toast down too hard and broke the yolk, but look at that golden river of flavor. You see how the runny goodness cascades down the sandwich like a cholesterol waterfall?

Oh, no Pickles overboard. It's okay I saved them....for last. So stop wishing you had made this and go do it. You'll thank me later after you return from your vacation to flavor town.

Brut Force

2010-01-13T16:31:00.002-06:00

As a little kid I would take things apart to see how they worked, my toys, the remote, my radio. Sometimes this broke the thing sometimes not. If I couldn't exactly figure out how it worked, I would exclaim that it was magic. For instance, the transmission of radio waves and electric doors. Magical. You could have explained their workings either intricate or simple, but for me the more simple explanation of a grand magician with a sparkly wand works just fine. I don’t need to know how things work as long as there are others who do.

Things that are complicated just don't fit in my world. If I can't make it work, then I don't need to work with it. Like Math. I never had a head for that stuff. Thanks to a younger male professor and low cut shirts, I did just fine in college algebra. I'm not ashamed it is what it is.

I found that breaking, manipulating and ignoring things are not always the best answer. While they may have served me well in the past their practical application in the grown up world, well isn’t really practical it’s silly. It seems things always break when I'm alone; therefore, it's up to me solve the problem of the incessant beeping of the alarm system.

Through trial and error I've learned that while you can just smash the buttons until it stops that's only a temporary fix. It will lay in wait. Its complicated brain knows that I am sitting awake and alert only a few feet from where it sleeps. This system that's meant to deter criminals, is now stalking me. I open the garage door and it gives the accustomed BING! that signals an entry has been opened. I wait before getting into the car knowing that it will begin its manic repetitive bleating once I get in the car, but it doesn't. It waits until I come home to say “Ha! I've been going off the whole time you've been away. Welcome back, dumb ass."

I have taken it into my cold hard hands and thoughts of pulling the unit out of the wall so that the wires rip from their sockets to make it stop has entered my mind. "I've done this before don't make me do it again." I think angrily at my home security system, but the reality of this being a rental property and the fact that tearing its roots from the wall probably adds additional fees to the repair if anyone ever wants to use it again clears my head.

"You've won this round my foe but I'll get you sucker." I think of calling the landlord, but I will not be defeated by this machine. I go to bed thinking yet again that the smashing of random buttons has solved my problem. Do you know what kind of terror one feels when awoke in the middle of the night to an intruder invading your home? Tall looming figures clad in black ski masks ransacking your house and holding you at gun point while your watch dog lies bleeding with his throat cut and tongue lolling out the side. These are the images that my startled brain conjures up when the stupid, evil, plotting alarm system goes off with out cause at 2 a.m.

So I consider calling, but it's inhumane to wake some one in the middle of the night with a trifling troublesome beep. So I pound, push and spout profanity until the thing stops. I return to my room turn on the fan (that's another story) and go back to sleep. I awake annoyed yet refreshed in the morning. When I turn off the fan I hear it beeping again. I creep up on it, and remember I saw the control box in the closet. "AHA!" I think, "Now your mine." There it is the control box a big steel LOCKED box in the closet. Don't fret though, I found the key, and opened the box only to see a land of wires and one huge battery and an instruction book. My first thought was just rip those wires from that thing that looks like a battery, but the grown up side said "Read the manual."

My childlike wonder about how things work was slightly amused at the thought that I could look into the mouth of the beast and come out victor, but then I opened the manual and was flooded with a sense of powerlessness. This manual has not 1 index but 3. Where do you locate the instructions on How to Stop the Fucking Beeping?

So I'm sitting here taking out my rage in my blog and weighing the choices: A. use brut force and just rip out the wires and be done or B. Call a Magician.

My Mom's Birthday Cake

2010-01-05T21:00:00.000-06:00

In honor of my mom's birthday today, I made a pumpkin spice cake (Brenda Medina's Recipe) layered with Banana and topped with a caramel cream cheese frosting. I just finished icing it about 10 minutes ago while Kevin was watching tv in his favorite chair. I brought him a sampling into the living room only to find him sleeping in his chair. I startled him awake with the yummy goodness, and he liked it. I just check and his still awake. He doesn't like to admit that he falls asleep in his chair :)

I called to wish my mom happy birthday earlier this morning when the snow was just starting to fall. It has been falling all day and getting thicker and falling faster as the day progressed. I had to get out of the house to pick up the dry cleaning after 4 and it was a white out.

I made it back home safe and sound. I only had one little out of control moment but luckily I was going about 10 miles an hour and I steered into the skid without hitting the brakes. Good thing because it was two lane traffic with lots of cars coming the opposite direction. I probably tend to drive a bit overcautious here, but I know no matter what I do the people behind me will always think I can't drive. I need to get those Texas plates changed soon!

Once home from my winter storm outing, I started preparing the chicken cordon bleu we had for dinner tonight. I pounded the chicken thin layered ham and Swiss cheese and rolled the chicken up into a roulade. Which I then floured, dipped in egg wash and coated with bread crumbs. I placed the chicken on a greased baking sheet and baked in the over at 350 for about 25 minutes. It was delicious and I paired it with sweet peas, and red potatoes (which I boiled in chicken stock and garlic instead of water to add more flavor) tossed with butter and parsley.

The success of my dinner helped demolish the lingering guilt I've had about not being home every night to prepare dinner for Kevin.

Winter Storm Warning

2010-01-04T22:10:00.000-06:00

It's been nice and sun shiny in Billings lately. I showed up to work today with my manager calling the regional manager to tell her not to come tomorrow because we are expecting up to 10 inches of snow. WTF! 10 inches. Good thing it's may day off tomorrow. If it's crazy, I'll have to call in on Wednesday. I can't drive in a winter storm, I'm from Texas!

So what's my winter storm schedule for tomorrow? HMMM. I think I'll put my baking dishes that my mom got me for christmas to use and make a cake. Yup, that's it. Tomorrow is my mom's birthday, so I'll use her gift to make a cake in honor of her birthday, but I better not eat too much of it because I have to reach my birthday goal of being smokin hott by March 11th.

Other than my momma's cake (that ain't my boat, it's my momma's boat) I'll be cooking a special dinner for Kevin's birthday on Sunday. While watching Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives, Kevin informed me that he likes pigs feet. Never to be one to back down to a cooking challenge I'll be serving him up a hot plate of pig's feet, hog maws and collards.

I think I'll say naw to the hog maws but I will make the collards. Kevin and I have become very fond of this southern favorite after having it at our friend's house last christams. I've got a great simple recipe and I'm sure it will bring out the errr, earthiness...of the pig's feet. I'm not kidding about those, I'm serious. Not sure what or how you make pigs feet. I hope to god he doesn't mean pickled, because that's just gross. I'll flavor a soup or something with it but I draw the line at pickeling. I love pickles and sticking a nasty foot in it would be like taking a shot of tequila with a toe in the bottle instead of a worm, Right Brooke?

Dinner Confession

2010-01-03T18:50:00.000-06:00

I feel bad when I come home and Kevin has dinner cooking for me. It's nice and I love that he wants to do it, but I feel like he pulls so much of the weight already that I should come home from my meager part time job and cook for him.

Tonight he is making ceasar salad and stuffed cornish game hens. He also cooks breakfast most mornings. Oddly enough, I don't have breakfast guilt. Probably because I've never been a breakfast maker. My idea of breakfast is redbull or coffee, or if I actually have a meal I make things that you don't cook: bagel and lox, cereal, icecream, etc...

It's nice that we both have jobs that allow us to eat together most mornings. This is new for us. Before, when I worked we were never up at the same time. Since we started working out early in the mornings, we've had the extra time to spend eating breakfast at the table, and lately that's the only meal we've been eating at the table.

I don't make resolutions for new year. I think that resolutions are something that should be made throughout the year. Why wait to change? One thing I would like to change now, or revert to, would be eating dinner at the table as well as breakfast. When I was a kid ,we always at dinner at the kitchen table. Rarely were we allowed to eat in front of the television. Those were good meals. I remember having a lot of fun on those dinners. I think dedicating that time to your loved ones is an important part of growing and maintaining bonds. Kevin and I have good an awesome relationship that I think we both care deeply about, but we get lazy after work and sometimes veg infront of the idiot box. I'm not saying that the tv dinner needs to go away, but I want to make sure that since I'm not always home to cook dinner for him anymore that I'm still showing that our time together is important. I not saying I'm just saying.

The Re-do

2010-01-02T12:32:00.001-06:00

From My Pictures

Three years ago Jessica, Kevo, and I went to Austin to celebrate the New Year, but our friend Brendee chose to stay behind in Denton. We had an awesome time, lost a phone, paid a pizza guy to be our personal taxi, saw a sailor and laughed and laughed. It was GRRRREAT.
Mean while, pobrecita Brendee was not having so much fun. Infact, her choice to go to the lame-o party ruined her new year and a freindship. When the three of us returned home to find Brendee down and out all sad and lonely we donned the attire pictured above and set out to re-do the fabulous night before for our good friend. We got some strange looks and a couple of comments, "Aren't you guys a bit late?" It ended up being a very memorable new year for all of us.

In the spirit of the Re-Do, I'm remaking yesterday's post. I know, I know, a two sentence post does not do justice to the year I've had, so let me do today what should have been done yesterday.

As I wrote yesterday, 2009 was a year of change and adventure. I "retired" from my teaching job and endured a brief stint at my old daycare job, before going of to Mexico in search of knowledge, good food and clarity.

While in Mexico I did learn. Some about myself, a bit about culture and language and a fair amount about Moctezuma's Revenge. The most important thing I learned was that I could do what I set out to do. I came back from Mexico excited to for my move to move to Montana.

Once in Montana, I spent alot of time on the road with Kevin traveling to and fro. We visited Utah, Idaho, Colorado, Kansas, Oklahome, Wyoming and of course Texas. We've only scratched the surface of places to see in the state of Montana, and this new year I'm looking forward to checking off many of the hikes in my MT hiking book.

2009 we ventured to Scotland and for 2010 we plan to explore the Cayman islands. I would also like to visit the Redwood Forest at some point in time.

I did find employment in Billings for 2009, and I will continue there in '10; however, it is by no means my new career. I'm still passively searching for what will be my next career. So I intened to take the passive our of the searching and maybe muster up a bit a passion.

2009 was a great year to build upon. It set in motion a chance for me to be out of my box, my comfort zone. I think I have had a bit of a knee jerk reaction and haven't fully utilized the chance. I hope to make 2010 the year I embrace my potential, set and achieve goals as well as respecting limits but not being controlled by them. Well the alchohol limits, I'm respecting and controling those :)

Happy New Year

2010-01-01T23:13:00.000-06:00

2009 was the year of change and adventure for me. I'm not sure what lies ahead for 2010.

For My 3 Followers

2009-12-29T08:54:00.001-06:00

Even though I just saw you guys over Christmas, I figure I owe it to all my undeclared followers to rededicate myself to keeping the fascinating news of my life up-to-date.

I got a job; however, I'm not sure if I'm suppose to post the name on my personal blog so let's just call it...a dress shop. I'm a part time employee. I got the job purely by accident, but that's a good thing since I needed to get a job. I still need to find something with benefits. As to the question of what I want to be when I grow up, I still haven't figured it out. I'm not sure, but I think I might be like a novel with no plot. Hopefully, it's more like an intriguing best seller with an unexpected plot twist.

Went home for Christmas. We weren't sure we would be able to leave Billings because of the weather, and when we got home the snow followed us. I haven't seen snow like that in Texas at Christmas in a very long time. The last white one I remember was back in elementary when Jess and I got new bikes for Christmas. It was cold out and icy when we met up on the corner between our two mobile homes.

I had a wonderful visit with my family, even if it did start out stuck in a snow bank. My Pop, brother-in-law Luke, and Kevo had to dig out the abandoned truck on Christmas afternoon. My sister, Michelle and I had a late night bull session. It was great to spend time alone together. My mom couldn't sleep and got up to hang out with us, but I soon passed out mid-conversation on the couch. Santa was very generous to me and my family. He brought me lots of bakeware, smelly goods, coupons, pj's, ornaments, margarita recipes, a scarf from Scotland (Thanks Katie, my neck is no longer naked) and some beautiful bobbles. OH! and a seahorse shirt!

I'm thankful that I got to see my soul blistas, Jessica, Rachel, Aaron and new baby Wyatt. I'm grateful that they could take time out of their busy holiday schedule to spend time with me. It was the best present ever - knowing that our friendship was mutually important. Your friends are the family you choose, and I would choose those guys again and agian.

I'm also glad that I got to meet Bryan's (Jessica's fiancee) friends; eventhough, I just hope they did not judge me for my going..being put..to bed early. Too much Holiday Cheer I guess.

The next day, I got to see my big sister and first follower, Janet Jackson. No not The Janet Jackson, but you can still call her Miss Jackson if your nasty. I didn't get to see my niece, nephew or their kids, but Jazzy JJ got me up to speed. I was glad to hear that Stephanie got a new job and is doing well. I think the change will be good for her and I wish her all the best. Love you Steph! My nephew Thomas has a Lady Friend. Too bad I didn't get to meet her. Probably would have scared her off anyway.

I didn't get to see any of my brothers, but Gary in Arizona sent me a Christams email. We share a love of music. He is actually talented and I just like to listen and sing off key. I've already used some of the itunes gift he sent me to replenish my Reckless Kelly songs I lost when the old laptop died. Thanks Brother :)

Let's see what else? Oh, yeah Kevin and I were able to spend a few moments at Raphael's with Steve and Cindy Schoenke, Shelly and Colleen and a few drinks. Saturday night we spent dinner with the kids, and had way tooooooo much food at the Shogun. We met up with Jodee and Tryg at the Gaylord Texan and went to listen to M80 at the Glass Cactus. They were the best 80's cover band I've ever seen. Sadly Kev and I couldn't stay too long we had to be up at 3:30, but we stayed until 11 because you just can't leave early when Jodee and Tryg are around.

3:30 came so early. Kevin and I both fell asleep on the plane, or planes I should say. We had a layover in Phoenix. It was SNAFU we had to find a bus to take us to another terminal, but the first bus literally took us 200 yards then kicked us out saying "Next stop, parking lot." We had to go have another round of security. (SECURITY) After all this, we had another layover in Denver. Despite all the switch-a-roos we landed in Billings at 12:30. We were both bone tired but managed to make an awesome stew and stay semi-concious until about 8:30.

Whew, it was a Christmas Hurricane, and now I'm ready to settle down into a normal routine and better myself for the New Year. I've got some serious work to do if I'm going to be smokin' hot for my birthday.

So long friends. Sorry for the lapse. I won't say it won't happen again, but for a while I'll try to be a better blogger.

Scotland

2009-12-07T10:00:00.000-06:00

I've been back from our Scotland trip for almost a week, and I just haven't had the energy to post about our trip.

I still don't think I have the words to describe the rugged beauty of the highlands where we stayed the first few nights of our trip. The Capital of Edinburgh, where we spent the most of our time, was an amazing city. I felt as if I had been thrown back in time. The people of Scotland, those we encountered, were warm and inviting.

Here are a few pictures. I'll have to brush off the cobwebs and relate some of the more interesting aspects of our trip later.

Pork Pozole

2009-11-10T11:00:00.000-06:00

MMMMM. I love pozole. Before going to San Miguel this summer, I had never had pozole. I was forced to eat hominy, what we called indian corn, by my sitter once when I was a kid; therefore, I was traumatized and stayed away from it. In SMA I met Javier and Thelma. Javier was a big pozole fan. I think he ate it almost everyday. His enthusiasm for the Spanish soup won me over and I tried a steaming bowl of chicken pozole. It was wonderful. The broth was made of clear chicken stock, with tender chicken shreds, onion, hominy, and some spices. In Mexico they bring out a tray of fixin's: Fresh chopped cilantro, onion, jalapeno, crushed cumino, fried pork skins, avocado and lime wedges. I think adding the lime to the dish was what really woke me up to this soup. Oh that, and the crunchy crunch of the crispy pork skins ( I remember sharing those with my dad on road trips when we were little). Who can resist fresh cilantro? The smell will always and forever remind me of summer, Right B?

Any way, I've tried a few times to make pozole since my Mexican hiatus. Last night's batch I think was the best. I used pork instead of chicken. I also used canned hominy. I'm not going to attempt the process of taking corn and turning it into hominy. Too many steps, it seems intimidating. Kevin loved it. If your feeling froggy try it out. Make it your own, leave off the hominy if you don't like it, add more spice, use turkey. For my vegetarian friend leave out the meat, substitute vegetable stock and add lots of aguagate.

In a slow cooker place pork loin (2lbs) 1 large diced onion, 2 minced garlic cloves, 1 bay leaf, 1 serrano pepper, 1 tbs dried oregano,1 tsp cumino, 1 can rotel with green chili's, 1 large can hominy, 1/2tsp chili powder, 32oz each chicken and beef stock, cook on high for 4-5 hours or on low for 7. Shred pork with fork once cooked. Ladle into bowls and don't forget the fresh toppings.

I'm having this for lunch today and dinner again tonight. Join me, and let me know how your's turns out. Buen provecho, bon appetit, eten smakelijlik.

The Race at Lost Creek

2009-11-09T10:00:00.005-06:00

This weekend, Kevin and I were one of ten participating teams in the first annual Race at Lost Creek hosted by Catherine and John Geisecke of Grey Cliff, Montana. Catherine and John have a beautiful home on 3,000 acres with stunning views of the Crazy Mountains. Their property has a pond, trees, hills, creeks, Indian burial sites an old homestead, the graves of two little girls, wagon parts, and horses...It's truly beautiful and amazing.

The Geisecke's along with their friends Bryan and Sarah Zales planned the big event as a charity fundraiser for the local Big Timber grade school and a way to show case their ranch to all their friends. They devised 10 challenges testing your mental and physical abilities, as well as team work and communication. There must have been some extreme preparation. All the challenges were well put together and planned.

Before we could even begin the actual race, the teams were tied together at the wrist and had to toss pine cones into a bucket. Once 3 pine cones had made it to the target the teams were then allowed to scavenge for their maps and score cards. The "Rangers" - judges- had hidden each team’s items in a corresponding bandana (for instance, Kevin and I were the red team so we had to look for a red bandana bundle) and tied it to the brush in front of the house. This was no easy feat. Kev and I saw yellow, blue, purple, turquoise but no red. Finally we struck up an agreement with team purple: "We'll tell you where yours is if you show us ours." Team Purple - Sam and Robin- were true to their word and we found our stuff and were off. Teams blue, Kathy and Terrence, and silver, Brian and Dana, were not so lucky; they were the last to find their packages. Team silver's goodies were tied to a silver sage bush, camouflage for sure.

After finding our map and score card, we were off to challenge #1 "Trust Me" I guessed that one of us would have to be blindfolded and the other giving directions. Sure enough that's what it was. We decided I would be the blind contestant and Kev would be the caller. There were several stakes with colored flags tied to them and the caller had to direct the blind one to the appropriate stakes. Three flags were to be found and delivered back to the caller. Sounds marginally hard right? Add in the fact that 5 or 6 other people were there as well. It was so loud and all the voices were blending together. But Team Red had the edge. I couldn't distinguish Kevin's voice from the others until he started directing me in Spanish. Brainiac! It was great, I only ran into two people and retrieved all flags in a flash. Once back to the Ranger, we were given our clue to the second challenge, jumped on our atv and were off. The next challenge may sound easy but it was more difficult than the 1st.

Challenge #2 "Count It Up" the clue read: "Are you smarter than a fifth grader? Find the dead tree and count the branches. Count it wrong your here all night long." Sounds simple find the tree count the branches. There's a kicker you can't touch the tree, and everyone else is there counting to and it seems as if the branches move around. It took us 2 times to get it right. Good thing Kevin is a better branch counter than me.

The 3rd challenge was a detour meaning only one team member could participate, but on the next detour would have to be completed by the remaining teammate. The challenge moniker: "Bon Appetite". I knew it was going to be bug eating, so Kevin was our designated player. Sure enough, they had squid, not so bad, dried chili covered worms, and a dung beetle. GR-ROSS.

"Pioneer Ways" I think was the title of #4. I initially thought we would have to chop wood until I read the clue which said "Push and you are on your tush, Pull and you will be success-ful." so I'm thinking "oh, great we have to hike up this steep hill and then pull a cartload of rocks or something." My first instinct was correct. When we got to the top of this hill and there was a two person saw and a log. The orange team,Kendra and Shiell, passed us on the footpath up, and were already sawing when we got there. My teammate and I pulled together and cut that log in no time. We were even awarded a prize later in the day for our accomplishment. When I first saw the challenge I didn't know if I was strong enough to do it. My pits were sweaty and my legs were rubbery. This chubby girl was winded from the hike and all the running around previously. After sawing through that log, I felt like I was on top of the world. Literally. The view from where we were standing was amazing. You could see the snow capped Crazies the Yellowstone river and miles and miles of beautiful land and not a single house.

We had no time to relish the view Team Orange, despite starting before us, finished a breath after us and we had to race back down to the atvs.

#5 "Hook, Line, and Sinker" this was the second detour, since Kevin had done the previous, I was up to bat. I had to build a fishing pole out of sticks and twine, go to the dock and fish out weighted bobbers. The pole making was swift and sturdy. Kevin was able to direct me, but he could not touch or go out on the dock. He kept telling me, "lay on your belly, get on your stomach." but I didn't listen. "Why would I do that, I'm not going to fall in." Finally, I realized why he wanted me to do that, to get closer, duh. Team Pink fished out their bobber first, followed by Team Orange and then us.

There was tension in the air. The first elimination pit stop followed #5. We had no idea what teams, other than Pink and Orange, had been there. The first seven teams could continue while the last three were eliminated. John, the Grand Pubah, did a very good t.v. personality impression when he presented us with our race standing. I thought by his air and demeanor we were ousted, but that trickster was good. We were in 3rd place at the half way point.

With a cheer and exploding knuckle bump Team Red, headed off in search of victory and an Indian Grave. Hot on the heels of Pink and Orange we find our way to Challenge #6 "He who lies here" grab our clue for #7 and are off. 6 was easy, find the grave grab your stuff and get out. Little did we know our precious 3rd place standing would be threatened soon after.

"Come on Baby Light My Fire" #7. You can guess right? Yes, we had to start a fire using a steel and flint. I've never done this. Heck I can barely start a charcoal fire using a lighter and fluid. Kevin and I are bent to the task sparks flying everywhere, but no flame whilst all around us more teams are arriving and fires are blazing. 45 minutes and three unsuccessful flame ups and Kevin and I finally are able to sustain our flames and build a fire to burn through our rope. Sadly we knew this meant elimination, but determined to push on we race to challenge 8 "No Whining" all the other teams are finishing 8 and heading to their vehicles when we show up. Team blue is in the rear with us. We decide that the imminent elimination can not be reversed so instead of hurrying through the challenge we take our time. Who wants to rush a wine tasting anyway? It was great. We were given 4 wines. 1 white 3 red and had to decide what varietals we were enjoying. Chardonnay, Syrah, Cabernet, and Merlot were the wines.

To temper the agony of defeat Kevin and I ride off into the approaching sunset to have a real gander at the beauty surrounding us before we head back to the house to cheer on the winning teams.

In the end, Kevin and I were almost glad to have lost out in the fire challenge. We never would have gotten the final challenge. There were two questions to answer: 1. What three rivers empty into...what i don't remember, but the answers: Gallatin, Madison, and Jefferson. 2. What river did Lewis and Clark traverse? Answer: The Columbia. Never in a million would we have gotten those answers. Team Orange -Kendra and Sheill, were the winners followed by Green -Tim and Jone-, Pink -Philip and Cindy.

The race was the most fun I have had in a while. I feel lucky to have been a part of it and was thankful to meet so many new people who share a love of fun. Catherine and John were wonderful hosts providing us with an excellent after party.

415 West Hickory Apartment B

2009-10-28T14:57:00.000-05:00

It seems many of my good friends, Soul Blistas, have extra cause to celebrate this holiday season. As I've blogged before, Brendee is engaged but Kevo and his Vanessa are expecting. With all the good news flying around the level of emailing has been up, and along with the influx of correspondence we've each in our own way been reminiscing.

Brendee dug up this picture today. It was taken in front of my little tree-house apartment on Hickory street back in 2004, I think. Before the Forsyths were parents. Before Stacy was a mom. If I remember correctly Marina, our dutch friend, took this picture. I loved that little apartment with hardwood floors and a weird door from the kitchen to the bedroom and the holes under the windows that were as big as my finger and not insulated or patched. I would sleep with the screenless windows open when it was nice and my cat Andy, short for androgynous, would stare out the windows and make the squirrels bark. A few times a neighborhood cat joined us through the open window and Andy chased him off. I remember so many things about that period in my life. Standing next to my refrigerator, something was always going down in the kitchen, when Rachel told me she was pregnant. That was where Marina almost drove her rental car through the lawn (scary) and Becky Camp and I locked ourselves out when the screen door somehow happened to latch itself. Andy attacked a French guy, must of given him cat scratch fever because we never saw him again after that. (He was kind of strange anyway looked like the scissor wielding bald guy from Stephen King's Insomnia) Brendee and I became really good friends in that apartment. That's where Stacy and I became friends too, before she was just a friend of B and Rachel. We drank A LOT of wine in that place, on the steps and the lawn. That's where No Shower Sunday was born.

But what really got to me about this photo was not the remembering but the unremembered, the forgotten. I had forgotten about that picture until Brendee sent it out today. How many other things have I, or we, misfiled or shoved aside to make room for new memories. Hmm.

Once remembered those moments in time are sweeter than any candy. I almost said it was like money found in a winter pocket, but it's not it's better. I spend money I find no matter how long it was in my pocket, but those moments....I'm putting them in the vault.

A Bird on the Head...

2009-10-23T14:00:00.003-05:00

Everygirl wants to look marvelous, beautiful and fashionable for her special day and to some, Like SJP's character Carrie Bradshaw, that means haute coture or birds and feathers. Wanting to refrence one of our, Brendee and my, favorite movies, I trained my eagle eye on the internet to find something fine and feathery for B's big day. What I found were awesome birdcage veils, wedges and angle veils at Unveild Bridal Designs. Now I don't know that Brendee wants to put a bird on her head, but these classy modern style veils were just too faboulous for me not to share. Each of these brides shared their stories and photos with Dorene after wearing her beautiful headpieces. The first photo was taken by Lynn Michelle photography. The next lovely photo was done by photographer Angela Fuller. The third bride's photos were done by Maria Bernal. I would love to give credit to the final bride's photographer but couldn't find the information on the website.

Happy Birthday Brooke

2009-10-20T17:53:00.000-05:00

From brooke and aaron's

Yeehaw, It's Brooklyn's birthday.

From Jessica's Birthday Celebration

My beautiful friends Jessica and Brooke

From brooke and aaron's

So long ago.

From brooke and aaron's

Brooke, Aaron and Lukie

I couldn't be in Texas today to celebrate Brooke's birthday. Instead, I looked back through all my photos and had a good laugh and felt merry. I'll send a toast your way tonight, Tooker.

Hollywood Weddings

2009-10-20T17:40:00.000-05:00

Once a bride's maid never a bride? This myth is soon to be proven false by Brendee Medina. Hip hip hooray for my soul blista. I've decided to dedicate a few posts to my friend's up coming spring nuptials based on some of our favorite movie and t.v shows. I won't ruin the suspense by telling wich of our fav shows, but just know that while some of the refrences may be obscure, B will get it. Kevin says that I have my own language and he's scared that he is starting to actually understand it. This language isn't mine own, but developed with my gal pals, and Kevo, throughout the years. For enstance when I tell B she is like a dead babies finger she doesn't get offended she just laughs and asks me where her favourite raindeer jumper is.

So, some of the next few posts may be alot like the twinspeak that my friends and I have. For those of you without years of inside knowledge....just curb dog it and make me a bicycle, Clown!

Craig's Scam-A-Lot

2009-10-18T13:02:00.001-05:00

Last week I posted my services as a tutor on Craig's list. I have received several different emails from potential clients, but my internet-smarts red flagged the first and all the following were eerily similar.

I was so excited when I received the first one that I had to read it twice before I caught the stench of a scam. I replied to the email, thinking I would be a detective and try to bust the would be criminal. I'll let you read all the responses for yourself. Here are the emails I received:

Jones White to me show details Oct 10 (8 days ago)
Hi,
Let me know if you are available to tutor my Son great things and how much it will cost for a minimum time of 3hrs per week.
Dr.Jones.

To which I reply with the following email. Check out my sneaky detective skills. I refrained from referring to him as Indiana. I figured if I kept it light and simple he wouldn't catch on to my ploy and divulge all his sinister plan to me at which time I would swoop in with a team of internet snipers and make him pay for his egregious crimes.

Dr. Jones,

I charge $25 an hour for tutoring sessions. Were you interested in the Spanish lessons or English Language Arts and Writing? What grade is your son and what is his name?
Please respond with days and times if you are interested in my services.
Thank you,
Amber

He responds:

Jones White Oct 15

Hi Amber,

Thanks for getting back to me...am Dr. Jones White. I am from Fresno,California but currently based in Elizabeth Vale, South Australia. with my wife and children.. My son Frank will be coming for an holiday in the States,and i want him to be busy throughout.
Therefore, i just want to know if he can always come to you and teach him good things on Spanish every afternoon..If this is possible,i will want you to get back to me with the cost of your teaching him for a month which can start by 26th of October to next month...
He will be in the state in 2 weeks time...He will be coming to your Place for 1 hour each morning or afternoon..The Local Library would be your meeting place and Nanny would be dropped off/picked up during the hours of teaching
My Son's name is Frank,he is 13 years old and he is just a beginner. I will want you to calculate 1 hour per day for Monday,Wednesday,Friday for a MONTH,and get back to me so that we can arrange on payment.Kindly get back to me with.. TOTAL CHARGES FOR 1 MONTH THAT HE WILL BE TAUGHT 3 TIMES PER WEEK..
Thanks and waiting to read from you soon.
Dr. Jones.

Does that smell fishy to you? I think so. I haven't figured out how to get into my angelienajoliesque harness and body suit yet, but am planning something ingenious to catch this lowlife who preys on unassuming victims.
Here are the other emails that followed the wily Dr. Jones:

Davis Micheal to me

show details Oct 17 (1 day ago)
Hi,
Let me know if you are available to tutor my Son great things and how much it will cost for a minimum time of 3hrs per week.

Dr.davis

Rev James Vincent to me show details 4:13 AM (6 hours ago)

Hello,

How are you and how was your day be like,I saw your teaching ad's on craigslist and i will like to know if you can teach my son in your field 3 times in a week and 1 hour each day. Please get back to me with your charges per hour and your cell phone number,so that i can call you to discuss about it better.

Have a nice Day and i hope to read from you soon.

You Are Bless

Reverend James

Bill Blauer to me show details Oct 12 (5 days ago) -- Notice how in this last email from Bruce he tries to close the deal by selling the non-smoker aspect of his Son. Reads more like a pedophiliac singles ad.

A tutor Teacher is needed urgently for my 14 years old Son, possibly 2-3 days a week. Very flexible hour, Non-smoker, Excellent compensation. Get back with your price per/h if you are available.
Regards

Bruce

I think I'll respond to all with the following message:

Dear all,

I think you all are in greater need of my services as an English teacher than your children are in need of my Spanish tutoring. Your grammar is horrible, and the thin veil behind which you have hidden your scam is laughably poor. Maybe this type of ignorant plot to extract money from a victim would work on you and your Son, but not me.
I would love to teach you Great Things. Lesson number 1: Learn the language through which you are trying to deceive your victims. Lesson number 2: Learn about American culture if that is the country you would like to rob the most. Here in the great U.S of A, the professional doctors don't generally sign correspondence with the title and their first name. Idiots! It would read Indian Jones, Ph. D, M.D or D.D.S etc.. Lesson number 3: Learn your Geographical facts. Billings, Montana is nowhere near Fresno, California.

I'm sure if you decided to grow a set of cojones and come here to the United States that my fellow countrymen and women would love to round out your education.

Sincerely,

Amber

Dirty Dancing

2009-10-09T10:52:00.000-05:00

Jessica, her sister Jamie and I use to put Madonna on the tape deck in Jess's living room and make up routines for our living room show. I also remember one time we played the Beach Boys or some other group that did surfing songs and we used the bench to the Prose's kitchen table as our surfboard. Inovative we were. I had never even seen a surfboard, or the ocean but I was a pro that day.
That memory led me to the one where my sister Janet and my cousin Deedee did our hair in that awesome 'do we call "the crimp" baby, I'm pretty sure Dirty Dancing was playing in the back ground because it seems like for a period of time that is the only movie females in my family watched.

Dancing seems to be the thread I'm following here, so go with me to the high school dances at the cafetorium in Ponder, Texas if you will. I remember being in elementary around 5 grade when the whole school would go to the dances. My cousin Deedee and her friend would dance in the big group circles, that my friends and I would eventually embrace, and they would let me in sometimes too. I remember my cousin being at the valentine's dance when I was in fifth grade, around 1988, and was nominated to be the princess. I think Lori Crider may have actually won, but the point is I remember being so proud that my older cooler cousin was there rooting for me.

Years later it's Jess and I in the big circle dances, and don't remember them being "dirty" in high school but I do think back on them as being nerdy. Back then, the big thing was to jump around your friend laying in the floor without stepping on them. Sound weird, dangerous? I think I stepped on Crystal Patterson's throat at my aunt Emma's house once.

I wish I had this one picture. It was taken infront of Jess and Jamie's house before the black and white dance, or maybe it was the polka-dot dance, we all had on blue jean shorts and polkadot tops. (is that right?) We being Jess, Jamie, Crystal and me. I think Erin was there too, but maybe her shirt wasn't dotted.

I don't know what got me thinking about hair and dancing, but it makes me smile to remember that stuff.

Just a bit

2009-10-09T08:28:00.000-05:00

This is what I woke up to this morning. You can tell the pond isn't frozen over but there is snow on the ground, in the trees and roof tops. It's suppose to be a high of around 26 today, but warm back up tomorrow.

Beef Stew

2009-10-08T09:51:00.001-05:00

When the weather turns cold I always crave hearty chunky steaming bowls of comfort food. Yesterday, to combat the falling snow, I made a delicious beef stew. Sorry, I forgot to take pictures. I don't think it would have photographed well anyway. It was brown with chunks of other brown things (meat) and white things (potatoes) and orange things (carrot) and you get the point. It made the entire house fill with mouthwatering aromas and I couldn't wait to dig in when it was done.

To prepare the stew, I used a pound of beef stew meat seasoned well with salt and pepper. I browned the meat in a large sauce pan for about 8 minutes. Then I removed the meat and added butter to the meaty juice in the pan and put in peeled pearl onions. After cooking the onions for several minutes I added minced garlic a bit more butter, then potatoes, celery, carrots and cherry tomatoes. I should have peeled the toms first because their little skins were floating in the stew at the end. I added a touch of salt, more black pepper plus red pepper flakes. Once the vegetables were seasoned and in the buttery meaty sauce I sprinkled flour over the top of everything, I had also added a bit more butter. I stirred the mixture to combine and check its thickness then I poured in beef stock and let the whole mess come to a boil. Once the concoction boiled, the burner was turned down so the stew could simmer for an hour or so until the veggies are soft.

When Kevin got home I toasted some sourdough jalapeno slices to serve with the soup. The stew was delicious and had enough spice. Kevin didn't need to doctor it up, but it wasn't too spicy for me. I'm having the left overs for lunch and I know it will taste even better today. Like so many other things I love, soups only get better with age.

en coche

2009-10-07T11:43:00.000-05:00

Since I've been in the great state of Montana, I've probably seen most of it from the front seat of various vehicles. I can't think of one weekend that Kevin and I haven't been traveling either within the state or outside to Texas, Utah, whatever. I'm not complaining. I've seen a lot of landscape, animals, rest stops and gas stations, but it will be nice to have some time "at home" this weekend.

I'm learning a lot about living here. It's an entirely foreign thing to me to WINTERIZE stuff. One thing that's different for certain is that in Montana fall means snow fall not autumn. We had about a week and half of fall-like weather and then it started to snow. I missed the first snow fall of the season, due to our journey back to Texas for the Peanut Festival, and Aubrey Homecoming, but it's snowing right now and I can't stop looking out the window to make sure it's still there. CRAZY. Snow in October.

If it sticks I'll take some pictures, but for right I've got to winterize myself. Where are those long underwear?

Great Expectations

2009-09-30T16:17:00.000-05:00

One would expect a 32 year old woman to be able to park in a garage. Well I can but it was filled with anxiety. When you grew up in a trailer and have rented apartments your entire adult life, in Texas no less, there wasn't any garage in which to park.

Here in Billings the weather has turned cold and gray. They high for today was 53 which we reached about 9 am and it's been falling since about 11. It's 42 and raining. That rain may turn to snow, so I decide the garage is the best place for my car.

I pull into the drive line it up with the outside of the garage door and then get out of the car to stand infront of the garage and mentally measure the width of my car and compare it will the really small looking garage door.

I go inside because the pressure is just too much, it takes Jessica making fun of me to build up my confidence enough to give it a try. I block out the metal scraping noises echoing in my head and slowly creep into the garage.

I did it! I did it! I didn't even hit Kevin's bike when I surrounded with the trash bags just to give myself a bumper.

I know I should be ashamed of admitting that I was unsure of my parking abilities, I mean I've parrallel parked a bus before, but I'm proud. It's never to late to stop learning even if common expectations dictate that one should be confident in their garage parking ability before the age of 32.

Hefrowok, Ipeewoods

2009-09-23T15:28:00.000-05:00

Sunday, Kevin and I ventured over to Idaho into the Selway Bitterroot wilderness area of the Clearwater National Forrest for some hiking at Jerry Johnston hot springs. In our guide book we read that the clothing optional thermal pools were only 1.5 miles from the suspension bridge that crosses the Lochsa River.

I wore black underwear and a black sports bra just in case we decided to get in, my swimsuit was in Billings. The parking area was packed, as were the "pools". Most of the people we saw were younger and clothed, but we did see more than we wanted.

Why are nudes always ugly? As we are approaching the 3rd bathing area, thankfully I didn't have my glasses on, I see a lot of flesh. "Kevin is that old guy naked?" I inquire. "Uh, Yes," replies Kev. "Oh My God is he bending over." I ask trying to keep the giggles under control. It seems that when you bend over naked, one must hold that pose for an unnaturally long time.

After seeing that there just wasn't enough space in Idaho for me, Kevin and a nude guy, we decide that maybe will just keep hiking up through the day use area and see what else there is to see. We hike another half mile or so into the woods; where we spot two park rangers. They tell us about a really cool waterfall about two miles away. The waterfall lies outside the Jerry Johnston boundaries and is actually in the wilderness area.

Bubba chased squirrels. We took lots of pictures. Kevin must have had a power bar and energy drink combo for breakfast because he basically sprinted up the mountain; whereas, I took alot of breaks because I'm fat. We didn’t see any wildlife other than squirrels, but there was lots of wild animal poop. Once we reached the top of the world we found the waterfall and had a nice little mountain top wilderness pick-nic consisting of, Apples, cheese, beef jerky and chocolate chip Cliff bars for dessert. It was nice to sit there on the edge in the middle of the wilderness where there was nothing but trees rocks and water. Relaxing.

Men, or the little boys in men, like sticks and rocks. Anytime we go hiking Kevin has a walking stick. He also digs rocks. If there is a cliff, or a body of water a rock needs to be tossed, kicked or thrown down/into, I gave Kevin his Indian-- er, um, Native American-- name: Hefrowok, but I guess that sounds a bit cavemanish. The hike back down was less demanding but not necessarily faster, because I had to pee several times. I think I marked more trees than did the dog; therefore, Kevin named me "Ipeewoods". However, that name didn't stick around long I later became known as "Falling Squaw".

Once we got back down to the hot springs area all the bathers, clothed and x-rated were gone. We had the place to ourselves but didn't have the energy to get in and enjoy the thermal waters. I was less than graceful as our adventure came to a close. My hiking boots were just to heavy and the rocks, roots and other obstacles were landmines. Within 500 feet of the park exit a sniper takes me down. I'm peering out over the river thinking that a naked Sacagawea probably bathed there with Lewis and Clark, when my right foot strikes a rock, trying to correct myself my left foot becomes entangled with my right. My arms are paralyzed and my face is rushing toward the hardpan. Luckily, my right foot had been a bit forward so I fell at an angle and my right shoulder cashed into earth before my face. Since my hands were to retarded to stop my fall, my shoulder did all the work. Kevin caught the airborne portion of my routine. He turned around just in time to see my feet above my head in the air and my body kissing the dirt. Being the nice man he is, he showed concern and made sure I was laughing before he started.

I was so exhausted from our adventure that my laughing almost turned to hysteria. I started to feel the tears coming on and didn't know if it was from laughing or falling, but I collected myself. With Hefrowok's help, Falling Squaw got back up. We stood there giggling for an eternity before we could get moving again. The 45 minute trip home was filled with talk of how great our hike was and we both relived my dramatic exit more than once producing giggle fits.

So far, the Jerry Johnston outing has been our favorite, but we plan to attack many more trails in our hiking guide. I'll let you know how they go. Hopefully, I won't fall off a mountain.

Back in Black

2009-09-16T15:46:00.001-05:00

My muse had left me for a while and without proper inspiration I had nothing to post. Lot's of things have been going on, but I didn't have the magic to express it. We've been here in Lolo for the past month and unfortunately my new phone/air card don't work at the bottom of the valley where our cabin is located. My internet connection has been limited, but here's a quick run down on what I've been doing. I went with Ely to the River City Roots Festival. Here a few highlights from that experience:

Cash for Junkers opens the River City Roots Fest

Sculptor Sunti Pichetchaiyakul show cases his

lifelike art at the Roots Fest

What can I say? This girl

made me miss my friends.

Since the Roots Festival, I've been making my way around Missoula and Lolo. I've found an excellent coffee place with bagels and lox. Kevin and I delivered a Schwalbe truck to Salt Lake City, Utah this last weekend. While in Lolo, we've been hiking in the Bitter Root, but what got me thinking about writing in my blog again was the tasty black bean soup I made for dinner last night.

I have been craving Cuban sandwiches and felt guilty about serving Kevin a sandwich for dinner, so I decided that soup and sandwiches were perfectly okay when the soup is homemade and not from a can.

I find it takes quite a bit longer to make things due to the altitude. What should have taken 2 hours took 3 and 1/2. I started with a package of bacon. (bacon makes everything better) Once the strips were crispy, I set the bacon aside and sautéed the carrots, onion, celery, garlic and jalapeno in the drippings, then I added dried thyme, oregano, cumin and a bay leaf. I cooked the veggies and herbs together for a bit before adding the chicken stock and tomato paste.

After bringing to a boil I let simmer. When the liquids got too low I added tap water, and some beer. Oh yeah and I also roasted a red bell pepper and added it to the simmering pot.

While the soup was on the stove I rubbed the pork loin with a Chulula spiced seasoning salt. I seared the loin in some of the bacon fat that I had preserved, then cooked it in the oven at 400 for 35 minutes. When it was done I let it rest before carving it into thin slices to serve on toasted sourdough hoaggie rolls with melted Fontina cheese, pickles and mustard.

To finish off the black beans I ran them through the blender, but left it lumpy not smooth. I added some sour cream and cilantro to the individual servings. It was so good I had to tell you guys about it.

Dead Zone

2009-09-02T12:53:00.003-05:00

While in Missoula my Sprint services don't work. I can't use my phone or aircard in my little cabin. I noticed after my Mexico trip that my aircard wasn't working even in urban areas. Yesterday, I called Marquita at Sprint and was told that it would cost me $150 bucks to disconnect my aircard eventhough it doesn't work and if it did it wouldn't work where I live. Without residential proof I had to pay the fee. Our rental homes are under the business name and all the utilities are rolled into the lease so there aren't any bills that come in my name; therefore, I don't have appropriate residential proof according to Sprint.

I ask Marquita what it would be to terminate my phone service as well. $180 + $150 and what ever my current balance is. I never tell her to do it, but I guess she didn't like my tone of voice and did it anyway. I went to use my old 940 number today and it was turned off. I became enraged with the situation, and I almost chunked it out the window, but I don't litter and I don't have all the numbers in it memorized.

I am done with Sprint .
So for my loyal fans, I mean freinds and family, I'll be sending you my new Verizon 406 number soon.

Roll out of Bed

2009-08-27T12:01:00.002-05:00

I slept in a bit this morning. Kevin left for an event he is sponsoring in Kallispel last night so I had the place to myself. I stayed up until 1 a.m. finishing my Vampyre book. Probably not the smartest thing to do when home alone in a relatively new place, but I was able to sleep. Kevin woke me around 9. He is fond of finding reason to call, but I think he is really just making sure I'm out of bed. Of course I tried to trick him with my fake super cheery no i'm not asleep hello, it might have worked this time.

I got up and decided I was going to make homemade cinnamon rolls, well semi-homemade, based on one of my favorite desserts: Sopapilla Cheesecake. My friend Jodee Heimdal and her daughter Jessi introduced me to that dessert and I, in turn, have introduced to Missoulan society. You can't really eat cake in the morning and feel good about it, so I decided to turn it into cinnamon rolls. Everyone knows it's okay to eat those for breakfast at 10 in the morning.

The ingredients: 1 package of Pillsbury recipe creations (you can use the cressant rolls but they are perforated and harder to work with), 1 pkg cream cheese, 1/3 cup sugar, melted butter, and cinnamon. ( I actually did this at 1/2 the recipe because I didn't want to make the entire roll and be tempted to eat it while at home alone.)

Preheat the oven to 375, put on the coffee, and then start the filling. Combine the sugar and cream cheese. It's best if you let the cream cheese sit out for a while to soften. Keep the dough in the fridge until last minute so it doesn't get too soft and sticky while you are trying to work with it. Then roll it out onto a cookie sheet or piece of waxed paper. Spread the filling mixture evenly from end to end and then roll back up. Cut roll into 8-10 even sized pieces. Next, brush with melted butter and sprinkle with cinnamon and sugar, to taste. Repeat last step on the other side of roll. Bake in oven for a period of minutes that falls between 12 and 15 or until they are the perfect shade of golden brownness for your particular palate. Generally, if a recipe calls for 5-7 minutes I go for 6 it's in the middle, but if you have a two minute spread do you choose 13.5 minutes? I don't know, so I cooked them for 16 the bottom was a bit more crispy than the top but not burned and not hard, just right.

The only thing these rolls were missing is that orange flavored gooey thing you put on top of the store-bought ones. My mom use to make those for Michelle and me. If only I knew how to make that goo. I would and then these would have been perfection.

All It Takes Is One

2009-08-26T11:45:00.002-05:00

Jessica has a saying about 8 hugs a day and how they lift you up and keep you feeling good. Yesterday, was one of those days. I had been stressing over getting a job and decided I would interview with a family looking for a sitter a few days a week. It wasn’t my ideal job, but I like children and miss being around the ones my friends and family have so I went for it.

On the day of the interview, my hormones decided to come for a visit. I couldn’t find anything to wear, I was self-concious, emotional and feeling like a loser. I was about to walk out the door for a job I wasn’t sure I really wanted, but felt I needed so as not to be a burden on Kevin.

I met with the family, but I didn’t feel the connection. They were lovely people, the mother and daughter were gorgeous and the father was very nice and welcoming. I left there feeling low. Going through my head was the thought, “Hey college, get a real job.”

The next day, yesterday, I was being extremely hard on myself. Nothing seemed good enough, everywhere I looked was negativity, resistance and self-loathing. My friends were trying their best to bolster my self-esteem and lift my mood, but it just wasn’t happening.

The family called and I knew from “Hello” that they were calling to turn me down. The wife was so sweet about not hiring me. I almost felt bad for her because she was so nice in her rejection of me. After hanging up the phone my spirits were low. I thought, “Gee, I can’t even get a babysitting job.” What I should have been thinking was, “That’s for the best.” I threw myself on the bed and silently cried and then I felt like I should cry some more make it dramatic. That always makes me feel ridiculous, the loud sobbing with shuddering and some snot.

The best way to stop crying is to feel like a fool doing it, which I certainly did. I decided to rearrange some furniture. There’s nothing like moving beds, dressers and armoirs to work out your problems. When Kevin arrived, I was still in my heavy lifting mode, “I’m sorry you didn’t get that job.” He said. As I normally do I shrugged it off and didn’t say anything knowing if I did I would cry and he wouldn’t know what to do. He saw that I was upset and feeling low, and you know what he did? He said, “Can I do anything?” most of the time when men ask that women always say “No.” and the men walk away thinking at least "I tried." but not this time. Kevin asked, “Do you want a hug?” which made me feel so much better I didn’t cry. The tears that were threatening to flood went away, and I laughed and told Kevin how I had cried earlier but moved the furniture to make myself feel productive. He said, “I noticed; it looks nice.” That one hug and compliment were the best medication I’ve ever had for feeling low and sorry for myself.

Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend

2009-08-26T10:37:00.001-05:00

Kevin bought me a set of diamonds that increase in size from small, medium to large. They have become a part of my daily life. They are durable, stain and stick resistant and dishwasher friendly. No, I'm not talking about jewelry. I'm talking about cookware, Swiss Diamonds to be exact. It seems the non stick technology comes from tiny diamond particles embedded in material. You don't have to worry about using metal utensils because there is no Teflon coating. They cook well, distribute heat evenly, and they are pretty hefty, so if I need to smack Kevin with a frying pan I still can.

I made chili in one the other night and of course I didn't get around to washing it until the next morning, when the residue was dried. Most of the time letting something sit too long and trying to clean the caked on substance can be a pain, but not with my new pots and pans. I didn't have to let anything soak, and no scouring was needed.

Yesterday, I wanted to make carnitas, but found the crock-pot had broken on the move from Texas. No problem. I took out the large deep skillet, added my pork loin, green chilis, salsa verde and cooked at medium simmer for a few hours and VIOLA dinner was served. The meat didn't stick to the bottom, the sauce didn't burn. Who needs a crock-pot, when you have Swiss Diamonds.

And They're Always Glad you Came

2009-08-24T20:03:00.001-05:00

Built in 1974 in Lolo Montana by the Babcocks, The Lumberjack Saloon is my new favorite place.

Ely and several other Missoulans mentioned this rustic loggers bar to us, and Kevin and I had to see what it was all about. A short drive west on highway 12, past the Lolo peak, brings you to the dirt road, Graves Creek, and The Lumberjack is located about 3 miles north.

The view is spectacular, and not only do they have food and drink, but 4 small cabins to rent, and live music on Friday and Saturday night, but that's not the best thing. I've been to mountain bars, ocean bars, city bars, cantinas and pubs, but never have I ever been to a bar with a tree swing for a barstool.

When we first walked in, it took a minute for our eyes to adjust to the darkly lit interior. The photos turned out kind of dark so you get a sense of what it was like to walk in from the glaring sunshine. Immediately I liked it. We took a seat at the end of the bar. I had already spied the swing seat, but there was a large burly biker sitting in it and his body guard, I mean girlfriend, was sitting next to him. "I'll be sitting in that seat before the nights over." I told Kevin, but not too loud I didn't want the biker to hear. He had already made it known that only steers and queers come from Texas, and I thought 6:30 was a little early for a bar fight.

Waiting some what patiently and avoiding eye contact while coveting the swing, Kevin and I made conversation with a few of the bar's patrons and the day shift bartender, Jared.

We walked outside to check out the patio and view, and when we returned the biker and his babe were gone. For the remainder of our time in The Lumberjack, I took up the seat with small breaks to let Kevin try, and we became aquainted with our new favorite bartender Justin. The evening was so much fun that we left with t-shirts. I wore mine the next night on our return visit with Ely.

When we walked in Saturday night we were greeted by Justin with a big, "Hey Kevin, Hey Amber, Glad you guys came back." The warm reception brought a tear to my eye, or maybe it was the tequila, but Kevin and I were certain that we had definitely found our new favorite place, because sometimes you just wanna go where everybody knows your name.

Bump in the Night

2009-08-21T13:27:00.011-05:00

This week Kevin and I were in Missoula Montana. Our cabin is located in Lolo, outside of Missoula just up highway 12 past Fort Fizzle. It's a two story cabin that looks kinda shady from the outside, but sits on a beautiful piece of property 100 yards infront of Lolo creek.

Before coming up this week, I took the truck in to get the oil changed. While in the waiting room I decided to brush up on "Montana Outdoors" magazine reading. I read about black bear trapping, collecting bear hair and other things bear-related. One particle point of interest was the map showing the areas in which black bears are prominent. Missoula is a one of the places black bears call home.

We get to our place in Lolo early on Tuesday night, and Kevin takes us to dinner at Lolo Steak House. After dinner, we head back to the cabin to sit by the river in the moonlight. How romantic you think? No, the dog just needed to pee. We retire early but in the middle of the night I was awoken by loud crashings and thunderings. There was a bear that had came in from the unlocked back door. He was tossing things around the downstairs snorting and slobbering searching for food we must have not put away very well. I start trying to alert Kevin but my fear had locked my throat and poking him in the shoulder was inefficient. Finally he awakens me by saying, "Amber, your dreaming, it's okay." I relate my nightmare to Kevin. Then,relieved to have been dreaming I close my eyes and drift off again.

The next day my friend from home, Ely, comes for dinner. Kevin prepares grilled new potatoes and tasty chicken thighs, while I make a light blue cheese vinaigrette for the salad. Ely brings the beer and we sit outside enjoying the view and the great company that old friends always supply.

As we clear the away the dinner debris, I give Bubba a few bones, " You can't give dogs chicken bones." says Ely. Looking at him quizzically I respond, "yes, you can, we did it all the time growing up." He shrugs and Bubba inhales the vestiges of our dinner.

Neither of us have the energy to actually wash and put away the dinner dishes so we fall into bed leaving the mess behind, "I'll do them first thing in the morning." I tell Kev and we drift off to sleep; However, only a few short hours into our slumber, Kevin and I are startled from sleep by a noise. This time it's not a dream. There is a noise an actual noise, "Did you hear that?" Kevin whispers. "Yes." I reply eyes wide in shock as we both try to figure out if it is a burglar out here in the woods, or maybe a badger or raccoon. Neither of us say it, but I'm still thinking BEAR after my previous night's dream. Like the stealthy hunter he is, Kevin grabs his .357and heads for the stairs. Noiselessly, I slip from the bed and make my way towards the head of the stairs, when I see the dog. Bubba is laying on rug instead of his blanket, but he doesn't look alarmed or scared. I notice on his blanket there is a large wet frothy mess, and then it dawns on me, "It's okay, the dog threw up." I yell down to Kevin as I shake my head as Ely's words ring threw my head "You can't give a dog chicken bones".

Wind Swept

2009-08-18T12:08:00.006-05:00

Growing up my parents had this painting of an old windmill spilling water into a trough, cattle milling around and a rancher climbing the structure to presumably fix something or perhaps to enjoy the view. My earliest memory of an actual windmill comes from the visits we use to make to my uncle James' house.

The Windmill seemed to tower above us at the time and it was rickety looking. I wanted to climb it like the man in my dad's picture, but I never did. I don't remember if it's because my mother put the fear of God in us or if I was too scared too. I don't remember being scared of much in those days, so it must have been forbidden. But wouldn't that have made it all the more tempting to a rambunctious tomboy? Uncle James' house was a small white wooden structure, and the water was drawn from a well on the property and stank of sulphur. Don't think we fetched it with buckets or anything. It came from the tap, I'm not that old. Visits were filled with good homemade food, I remember fried chicken and white gravy, banana pudding, cream corn and lots of lemon to make the smelly water palatable. We ate gathered around the warm sunny kitchen or on the occasion that more than one of my uncle's sisters were visiting we would disperse. Some wandering outside to eat on the kitchen steps facing the windmill. Others into the living room to eat perched on the western style couch with wagon wheel printed cushions that faced the old telephone cabinet (the kind where you talk into a trumpet shaped mouth piece and hold the cone to your ear) on the joining kitchen wall or maybe in one of the chairs next to the west wall that was littered with finds. I remember seeing, what to me, was a huge rattle from what must have been an enormous rattle snake that had been found on the ranch.

Uncle James has been employed for the same rancher in Prosper, Texas for my entire life, and I suspect at least 20 years prior to that. That job almost killed him once, and he still has a knot on the side of his eye that bears witness to the accident. My memory of those days is fuzzy and old. If my recollections were a photograph they would be the faded tin-type made more romantic by the passing of years. I can't tell about those days without telling of my uncles brush with death. This is how I remember the accident.

I was in elementary school when my mother got the call. In my family you didn't leave kids with the sitter. My cousins, Kelley and Deedee, were our sitters. So we all packed into the car. Most of the time it was my mom and dad and my aunt Emma and Uncle Stan along with my sister, me, Kelly, Deedee and their brother Gene, so there was never enough room in the car but we didn't notice it was togetherness. We drove to the hospital where my uncle lay, his sun leathered face slack with sleep. His tan hide wrinkled by the elements and age a dark contrast against the crisp white starched linens of his hospital bed. I had never seen my uncle in anyting but jeans and long sleeved pearl-snap shirt. The paper gown they placed him in turned him into a stranger, a man that was still and weakened, not the heroic cowboy that wrangles cattle and rides horse back through the blistering Texas sun day in and day out. What had happened to bring down such a figure?

In the nature of our family we were gathered there, my fallen uncle and his 11 remaining siblings, the adults talking in hushed tones. The children, knowing better than to make noise or otherwise be noticed, strained their ears to catch a whisper of what had befallen our Uncle James. To my child's imaginative mind and my adult's embellished misremembering, the incident was thus: durning the night a howling storm came up. Lightening cracked the blackened bruised sky as swollen clouds dumped their torrents of rain, and the wind blew the falling moisture driving it into night like a thousand sparkling needles. My uncle was there a pale figure outlined in the flashing light of the storm. Rain dripping from his cowboy hat, his muscles strained against the wet shirt sticking to his lean torso as he held onto the rope that was attached to the wild-eyed horse who had been spooked by thunder. The horse reared, it's cries muffled by the screaming wind and booming thunder. The animal began to thrash about creating chaos in the rain. Finally, lashing out and kicking the rain glittered pipe fence, James was taken by surprise as one of the rails which had become loose spun on it's axis hurling itself with a wet sickening thump like a hammer to watermelon into my uncle's temple.

The force of the blow knocked him unconscious and dropped him into the marshy mud of the corral. He was brought from the wet cold thundering darkness into the too bright and deafeningly quiet hospital room where we were all scared and worried. A blood clot in his head was the biggest concern, but men of that caliber don't let a little thing like a head injury stop them. Tough as boots he is.

I mentioned he still works for the ranch. I don't think he will ever quit. He isn't a man that works a job. He is a cattleman, it's a life style. As an adult, I don't get to visit with my ma's family like I did when we were younger. Infact, the last time I saw Uncle James the passing of time coupled with my growth and the lack of seeing one another confused our meeting. He didn't remember which one of Beatrice's kids I was until I said, "It's me, Amber Dawn". I'm sure to him, I'm still a scruffy, dirty tomboy. I miss those days, the simplicity of life. The goodness of being together. The screechy sound that windmill made when the breeze would slowly spin it on a lazy summer afternoon.

The photo at the top of the page, inspired this reminiscence and it's hard for me to chop the story up, because those days were years of my childhood but they stretch out in my mind like one long hazy summer afternoon. Growing up, we didn't have money. I grew up in a trailer. We took vacations to visit family spread out all over Texas. My uncle James' house was only one of many stops. Another frequent family adventure was to my uncles Stan or Boddie's dairy farms in Sulphur Springs Texas. The old windmill is a symbol for me of the simple happy life we led growing up in the country. It's a reminder of my family, who I am and where I'm from.

The picture at the top, was taken of an old windmill remarkably like the one in the picture that my dad still has and the one that still stands in my memory, but it was in a field littered with the new-age windmills. This prompted me to think: What quaint fond memories will those trigger? Is some kid going to look at the photo below in 20 years and say: "Once when I was little a most respected and beloved uncle had one, and it forces me to remember the laughter and innocence of being a child."

Dog Days of Summer

2009-08-17T08:26:00.003-05:00

While watching Bubba taunt the neighbor's dogs this morning, I thought, "He is so funny." I'm not one of those people who replace children with dogs. Despite what Kevin says, Bubba does not wear a sweater. I may spoil him a little bit but that is because he is so sweet. He knows how to work me. He's got these amazingly sad eyes when he wants something from me, and when he needs your attention he puts his paw on your arm or leg, Like he saying, "Excuse me, Amber." I have this thing about putting on shoes. It's always done sitting on the floor (except sandals they just slip right on)and it never fails that the dog thinks, "hey she wants to play with me!" At which point there is much butt waging, he has a stump tail so his butt wags with his tail, and chewing on my hands and arms while I try to knock him away. He some times burrows his cold wet nose under my leg and it tickles.

Yesterday was our big day-o-fun. Kevin and I woke late, had breakfast and then took Bubba up to Zimmerman trail for some hiking. Before leaving we had to give Bubba his lesson on jumping into the bed of the truck. He doesn't do it automatically yet. He puts his paws up on the tailgate and looks at you like, "Help me up, I'm stranded here." His jumping tutorial goes like this: Kevin gets into the back of the truck and sits down, I take the dog about 10-15 yards away and run towards the tailgate so that the dog runs with me. Because I'm no longer the proud athlete of Ponder high school, I can't jump into the back of the truck. So when I stop the dog stops, and places his paws on the tailgate. Back again we go, "you jump then maybe he will jump." says Kevin. "Yeah right, I'd need a spring board and an Olympic medal to get any air." I reply.

After four attempts, the dog leaps into the back of the truck and in between pants the chubby dog trainer, me, helps congratulate him, "Good Boy, you did so good." There's a small voice chanting, "Dog sweater, dog sweater." In the back of my mind, but I'm not a crazy dog lady I swear. Bubba isn't even my dog really. He is Kevin's. I haven't had a pet since my black cat Fatty got eaten by Coyotes at my sister's house.

Back to Bubba, after the hike there is a reminder training session which doesn't go so well, and I think people might have seen our shenanigans. What a scene

Once we are back at the house,I decide to take the boat out for it's maiden voyage. The Skipper and Gilligan go too.

After our aquatic adventure, it's time for Bubba to push Kevin in the hammock. Notice the hammock height. I would like everyone to think it was intentional.
Yesterday was a great day for me, Kevin, and especially for Bubba, or at least I like to think he enjoyed it as much as we did.

Market Days

2009-08-16T10:45:00.014-05:00

Saturdays in Billings finds the streets downtown,near 29th and 2nd, closed to auto traffic but swarmed with pedestrians for the Yellowstone Valley Famers Market. Where you find farm fresh everything, and live music.

Kevin and I woke around 8 yesterday and went to the store to sell some trucks and then we hit the market. Our first stop was at one of the Hutterite stands to buy onions, peas and some pickeled things: pickels, beets, jalapenos and carrots. Everything is organic and grown within the Hutterite community

(I'm thinking they are similar to Amish but with electricity and mechanical technology) they even produce fowl on their farms; however, we bought our meet from another small organic Billings farm whose name I can't remember now. The steak, NY Strip, was juicy and tender. I also picked up some marrow bones to try an Anthony Bourdain recipe.

Next was a stop at Das Kuchenhaus, owned by Debra and Tim Zimbelman, they had gorgeous looking pastries and pies, but I chose only the bread. By this time, Kev and I a both a bit peckish so we stop at the tamale stand for green corn and buffalo tamales and nice lemonade.

Finally, we stopped and bought some fresh sweet corn for the evenings dinner.

We stopped by a little wine shop on the way home and picked up a Franciscan cabernet, 2005, Napa Valley. It was a good pairing with the steak and veggies. We prepared the corn and cebollitas (small onions) by soaking them in water and placing on the grill, using the husk as the insulator for the kernels. Kevin did the steak in a chimichurri marinade and grilled it along side the veggies. I prepared the peas with a few of the cebollitas by sauteeing them in butter and garlic. It was simple, fresh, organic and delicious.

Even Bubba liked it.

Hey Rocky....

2009-08-14T18:38:00.004-05:00

Watch me pull a rabbit outta my toaster. At least that is what I was thinking yesterday as I tried to make toast with the brand new toaster. I plugged it in put the dial to 5 and turned around a few minutes later and the bread was up untoasted not even warm. Funny, the little window where the number is located is no longer illuminated. So I move the toaster to another plug and the red numeral 5 flickers on and off in the window like Satan winking at me. I finally get it to stay on faulting the wall outlet, and I push the lever to make the toast go down and there is a loud POP and a small puff of white smoke, but the only thing I pulled out of it was the bread still untoasted. I smelled it, thinking: Gee I hope It's not polluted, and it seemed fine. I went on with my culinary magic turning the untoasted bread into a cold cut masterpiece showcasing turkey, white sharp cheddar, pickles, pickled jalapeno, mayonnaise (can't say that word without saying it like the drill Sargent in "Officer and a Gentlemen" Mayo-nnaise)tomatoes and avocado. Rocky has to have a Bullwinkle just like sandwiches have to have soup. So the accompaniment to Kevin's lunch was a pasta soup I made by using the previous nights chicken tortellini, tomato, artichoke supper and combining it with onions, garlic, herbs, chicken stock and stewed tomatoes and a dash of red pepper flakes. It was good. I took my handiwork down to Montana Peterbilt, but didn't tell the boss his sammie may have toaster fallout on it. He survived.

On the way home I stopped by Albertson's, I go there everyday, for the accoutrement to the evenings dinner. Once I was settled back in the pink tile kitchen, I marinated chicken in a citrus jalapeno mix that I whipped up in the handifoodprocessor (cup fresh squeezed orange, 2 jalapenos, 1 serano, 1/2 bunch cilantro, salt, course ground pepper,and garlic) I let it sit in the fridge for 4 hours or so then baked it at 350 for roughly an hour. After the chicken came out of the oven, I let it rest while I made the avocado lime salad. I chopped romaine, diced tomatoes and avocados and warmed up a can of black beans. For the dressing, I squeezed two limes, texted my friends Rachel and Aaron because this dressing reminds me of them, added 1/3 cup olive oil, sugar,salt and pepper and I whisked to combine. All the ingredients, including chicken went into the salad bowl and were topped with the dressing. Que Bueno!

Tonight we are having the same marinated chicken taco style with carrot-jalapeno salad. It's culinary magic folks, turning last night's good eats into a new tantalizing taste for tonight.

The Grand Adventure

2009-08-13T17:55:00.005-05:00

Kevin and I began our trip back to Billings on Sunday pulling my car behind his truck on a car dolly we rented from UHaul. With this particular car hauling device you can't back up. You have to pull through.
Kevin and I stopped at Deter Brother's in Lindsay for BBQ with my parents, and before we headed back out we had to stop at the Mayor's house (not kidding, the real Mayor of Lindsay). Lindsay is a small town and they get people to stay there by tricking them. It's like the Hotel California, a lovely place and once inside you can never leave, or so it seemed. Kev and I tried to find a roundy-round to pull through but all we got were dead-end streets. So with my Altima attached, we went four wheeling through a hay field. It was funny, and while bumping along we laughed and said, "What a beginning to our grand adventure."

Before getting into Amarillo, where we were going to go to a 'Dilla's game, it began to rain. We put the dog into the cab of the truck, and Katie texted the game was canceled. Later, We pulled into the Ambassador hotel off I-40 around 7:30 pm. After closing the curtains to the window, which looked out onto our Truck/car, I got in the shower at 7:35 ( I remember looking at the clock trying to time my shower so Kevin wouldn't grump about taking too long.) At 7:55, I told Kevin: "Hey, I've got to go lock my car before we meet Katie and Tim in the restaurant." I walk out and open the driver side door of my car and then I hear, "Excuse me is this your truck?" I look up and see two hotel staff members standing on the passenger side of Kevin's truck. I think, "Oh, we probably can't park here and take up all this space." so I say, "Yes, do we need to move?" To which the male replies, "No, you've been robbed."
I walk over and see the passenger side rear window smashed and I go over to my car, which was unlocked the entire time, open, press the lock, and shut the door. I look up and there is Kevin, "Hey, Come here." I motion with my hand. Kevin looks at me not quite understanding what I want. "Come here, We've been robbed." Maybe the shock didn't allow me to put the proper emotion into it so Kevin is still unsure what I'm talking about. I should mention that while this is happening the lady who works at the hotel says about 40 million times, "You should neva leave them valuables in yo car, sho nuff gonna get robbed if you do." To which I respond, "We never do." Never except this time. Them Valuables, as she so quaintly put it, were Kevin's laptop, passport, checkbook, and my Garmin. I found out once we got to Billings that the perps (yeah like the lingo) also ganked my bag that had my mail, a cool family photo (of my mom in a blond wig and my dad with some major pork chop side burns) and one of my all time favorite books.

Thanks to an Australian visitor to Amarillo, there is an eye-witness report of 3Caucasians, 1 skinny meth head girl, and 2 dudes. The stupid girl left DNA, Blood, on the car when she was rifling through our center console.

Kevin acts fast and closes all his accounts puts his identity theft protector in motion. The next morning we were lucky enough to find a shop who replaced the broken window in an hour and we were on our way. I couldn't wait to get out of Amarillo. Did I mention it smells like shit there? Yeah, you can smell the feed lots when the wind is right.

Outside of Dalhart, Kevin gets a call from Wellsfargo informing him some guy is trying to cash a check for $525. "He's a criminal, call the cops, arrest his ass." Kevin says to the bank manager. He does and they do. The man was stupid enough to make the check payable to himself, and present his ID to the bank, all while his sweet honey crack head was in the car. Amarillo PD shows up with Kevin's favorite T.V. show, COPS, in tow. I don't know what's better, that these two miscreants were caught or that it was on tape.

I was proud of Kevin and how he handled himself. He didn't lose it. I would have. I was plenty pissed and sick at heart when I discovered my belongings were gone as well, but I'm sure my mom has a copy of that photo some where, and thank God Ernest Hemingway was well circulated I can get another copy of my book. AS for our bank acounts no harm done.

We made it to Denver that night and decided to celebrate the kharmic capture of those theiving bastards. We had a nice dinner at Del Frisco's and our toast for the eveing was: "Here's to COPS, and Our Grand Adventure."

Feelin' Good Again

2009-08-13T15:41:00.014-05:00

Is it possible to get jet lag from riding in a car? My summer has been a whirlwind of travel and excitement interspersed with periods of rest and some relaxation. No need to rehash the entire summer, you can read about it yourself, but I must catch up on more recent activity.

Kevin and I drove Cody back to Texas last Wednesday. All was well. The boys turned me on to "The Death Lands" audio cd's that are action packed adventures in your mind.

We arrived in Texas a few short hours before my friends Kevin Vandrunen and Vanessa Chapmen tied the knot.
Kevin was introduced to Brendee's beau David

And members of the Dutch Mafia

The night was filled with many hugs, a few tears and lots of laughter

The next day I ventured over to my brother's, Ralph, house and had hamburgers and hotdogs with my two sisters, Janet and Michelle, my mom and dad, Bea and Mack, my niece and nephew, Tucker and Tayah, and Brendee. I guess in all the excitment that being a part of my family brings I forgot to take photos. I wish my other brothers could have been there, but it was a wonderful afternoon.

That evening, Kevin and I along with my good friends and a chunk of Aubrey went to see his buddy, Sean Morgan, play at Sunset (You know that little bar I mentioned in "No Shower Sunday") where there were lots more huggin' and Kissin'. I made a video of the slide show set to Robert Earl Keen's "Feelin' Good Again", but I couldn't figure out how to get it embeded to the stupid blog.
Sunday we started our trip back to Billings, and we called the trip: Our Grand Adventure. That is a new post all it's own.

Whistle While You Work

2009-08-04T15:37:00.002-05:00

In college I had a boyfriend who had to eat with the television or radio on really loud to cover the sound of his own mastication. Weiwd, huh? That relationship didn't last long. Now if I could only divorce my nose from my face.

It seems my nose is having the most trouble adjusting to life in Montana. The air is dryer, but I'll save you from all the bloody details. Last night, while making baked fish with a lemon caper sauce, I kept hearing a faint whssst sound and oddly enough it was my nose. How weird? I thought it had gone away, maybe I was just to concerned with my soupy potatoes to notice it's regularity, but sitting at the table with Cody and Kevin it was back. I thought: "Oh man, can any one else hear that?" Apparently not.

I'm no stranger to the noises my nose makes. I've even woken myself up snoring, but during the day - whilst I'm awake! Seriously, this is a problem. I was contentedly chopping poultry and making sauce for chicken salad this afternoon when the symphony of the sinuses started again. We are having guest for dinner tonight and I'm hoping the sound of their chewing will block the tiny dwarfs singing in my nasal cavity.

The Riding Adventure That Never Was

2009-07-30T18:04:00.010-05:00

Once upon a time, a family of 10 decided to go on a half day horse back riding trip. Each member of the family woke up excited for their days adventure, but Uncle Rob received a call that Goldilocks lost her bears and they were clogging traffic on the 2; Therefore, the expectant family would have to take a longer route around the mountain and delay the trip by a few hours.

Undeterred, the adults, Uncle Rob, Aunt Teffany, Kevin and Amber, jump in the mini-suv, and the children,Cody, Wyatt, Kendall, and Chelsea, pile into the truck being piloted by Tim and Katie. Off they go on what they expect to be a wonderful journey.

Through the mountains from West to East Glacier, Uncle Rob begins to worry about the rain and ever decreasing temperature. With the motto: "We are going to have a good time God dammit!" ringing throughout the adult vehicle they push on. "What would make a better story, that we rode some horses or that we rode some horses in a storm?" said Uncle Rob in an effort to deflect any ill humor that maybe mounting. After stopping to acquire cold weather gear, a funny thing happened.

The family of 10 drove right on out of the mountains into the prairie where Laura Ingles may have lived. The fate of the 10 travelers was cemented when Rob calls the riding company. As his temper mounts, an ominous air travels from car 1 to car 2. An uneasiness as thick as fog rolls in and in a booming voice the uncle announces, "Talk to her before I fucking explode!" at which point cousin Kevin wrangles from the company that they are in never-never-gonna-make-it-in-time land, because the place is still 2 hours away.

Vowing that this day shall not be ruined, the men push on as the women make fun in the back ground, "Well what makes a better story, that we ride horses or that we end up in Nebraska trying to ride horses?" responds Amber in an effort to avoid any ill humor that may be mounting.

The children in car 2 are slightly disappointed, but the group stops to dine in a lovely local at the base of Glacier and with a round of beers, for the adults, the trip is salvaged. What could have been possible disaster for the motley crew turned into an adventure in one of natures greatest wonderlands.

Move over National Lampoons

2009-07-29T10:14:00.006-05:00

Being on vacation with my boyfriend, Kevin, and his uncle, Rob, is like being on vacation with Lloyd Christmas and Harry Dunne.
These two have kept me in stitches for the past 4 days. They are more like brothers, and it's kind of creepy how alike they are.

On the first day together we managed to meet every single person we encountered between Kevin chatting it up with Park Rangers and Uncle Rob displaying his Good Samaritan skills. I think each adventure with these two should be it's own blog; however an examples of their shenanigans goes as follows:

From The Horse Riding Adventure

Teffany, Rob's wife, and I are walking along behind Lloyd and Harry when we here, "Hey Teff, Look a Badger" exclaims Rob praying upon his wife's blindness for comic relief.

"Where?" asks Teff squinting into the distance.

"Right there!" Kevin directs.

"Badger, I need to get my glasses fixed, because that looks like chicken to me." I say bewildered by their obvious confusion of the two animals.

These two almost pee their pants at this remark, while Teff is still searching for the badger and I'm lost in the confusion of what's so funny.

We realize Lloyd and Harry are making a joke on poor Teffany because she can't see, and for the last 4 days they both say, "Look it's a badger!" Every time we pass the shack where the chickens live.

I should start calling them the Hardy-Har boys.

These two characters are not the only ones to have brought laughter on our vacation. Each of us in our own way has contributed, and at times the laughter was needed. Like when the hot water heater went out, the time(s) we left the stove on all day and the topic of my next blog, The Riding Trip That Never Was.

Far Far Away

2009-07-24T08:03:00.004-05:00

I'm in Montana now, and my friends and family put up a brave front about me leaving but I know you all are sad to see me go. Look on the bright side - Jessica's dad has an airplane! Geoff Prose was never so popular before, huh?

A rare happening has occurred this morning. Bubba and I are the first ones up. We have the quiet of the still house to ourselves this A.M. The sliding door is open for the dog and I can hear the rustle of leaves out back. I think this will be a great place for my creative side.

I've got a room for an office right off the kitchen and the big windows over look the lake. I'm going to put a desk in there, and hopefully it will be where all my Great Creative Writing takes place. Maybe I can talk Kevin into getting me a chaise lounger where all my Great Creative Thinking can happen.

I'm going with Kevin and his family up to Flathead Lake, near Glacier National Park, this weekend; where we will be on vacation for a week. Activities include: White Water Rafting, Horseback Riding, Hiking, Biking, Lounging, and The Great Amberican Cook Off of '09. I asked Kevin if there were washers ( What does Lisa Hitch call it? Peanuts or something...) or horse shoes and he called me a redneck. Can you believe that? Guess what I said, "You can take the Girl out of Texas but you can't take Texas out of the Girl."

Serenity Now

2009-07-21T10:20:00.002-05:00

The past month has gone by too quickly even though the daily pace was slow and tranquil. I'm reflecting on all the things that have happened and what I've learned. I'm sure there will be many more posts concerning my Mexico trip despite the fact that I'm home.

I wish I could have taken the courtesy and serenity of San Miguel and put it into a pill for distribution to my fellow travelers. Once I arrived in Houston, the long lines and high tempers of tired travelers in the customs department threatened to diminish my peace of mind. I just smiled and nodded, but others around me sounded like angry cattle stamping and snorting. I was afraid of a stampede. It seemed like I was standing still and the world around was chaos. It took a while for reality to set in, and then I realized this isn't another dream about going home. This is the ugly side of a traveling life, and it seem to be saying, "Welcome Home, and get the hell out of my way."

Not Enough Room

2009-07-17T08:33:00.005-05:00

Today is the last day of my intensive Spanish course. Instead of heading out the door I'm writing this article. I know she's going to make me think and my head is so full that I can't even spell in English. But that's normal for me right? Like my laptop, my brain is fried. I think there might be smoke coming from my ears. You can definitely hear the gears grinding after my four hours of instruction.

My teachers, Philipa and Elvira, have been wonderful. I came here barely using the present tense correctly and now while I can say I'm comfortable using the imperfect tense I am far from perfect in my speaking ability. It's been well worth the money and I know I've learned alot.

With a few exceptions I'm no longer struggling to try and translate what is being said to me. The meaning is just there. It is amazing. I can't really describe what's it's like. It is no longer a foreign language. When some one asks you in English, "do you need to go to the bathroom?" You don't have to think me, bathroom, toilet, pee. No It's just there in your head. I'm getting there, but I am still not sure if my taxi driver last night asked me if I was getting tired or married.

My Teachers Philipa and Elvira. The third lady is my friend Francis.

The Last Cucaracha

2009-07-16T15:32:00.002-05:00

My Mexican vacation is coming to an end. I've said goodbye to two of my friends, Javi and Thelma. Before parting, we returned to our place, Catzo y Charleys, for one last cucaracha. Catzo y Charley's was nothing like Carlos and Charley's, don't get that impression. It was generally empty while we were there and the waiters knew us on site. We knew we had found a home when we entered one night and the waiter calls out "Tres Cucarachas!" before we even make it up the stiars. The view from c&c's was great, the music was always loud and we were never short of conversation. Some people might have called our place a dump, but to me it was great.

After paying the check each night, the waiter would bring a bonus cucaracha which Thelma and I generally left to Javier, but Tuesday night El Cucaracha del Fuego, my luchador name for Javi, was done and the honor was all mine. The night ended in knuckle bumps and the conquest of my street vendor phobia. I don't know if it was the mounting hunger or the flaming drink pictured above, but for the first time I indulged in street food. I dare say it was FANTASTIC.

Without Javi and Thelma my trip would not have been near as much fun. I wish them well on their upcoming wedding and hope that their last cucaracha was as memorable as mine.

From SanMgl

Sights in San Miguel

2009-07-11T15:58:00.008-05:00

Click on the picasa symbol at the bottom right hand corner then click on the
sanmgl hyperlink to go to web album.

Love in the Time of Economic Depression

2009-07-11T12:23:00.003-05:00

Paris, the city of love? I think not. Every where I look in San Miguel love abounds. I come across this out pouring of affection daily in SMA. I see couples snuggling by the fountain, young lovers and stolen kisses on a darkened side street, The husband embracing his wife and tenderly caressing her swollen pregnant belly, mothers and fathers dancing in the twilight to the Mariachi music. Today I saw a mother's love, a baby suckling on the street.

YesterdayI recounted my sightings to Javier and Thelma, jokingly telling them it was difficult to be without Kevin with all the public display of affection. Do I need more proof than the engagement of my two new friends to prove that love is in the air?

As destiny would have it, I have not had to miss out. After seeing the mother breast feeding her baby, I was planning what to say in my blog while walking up Correo when I was approached by a boy who couldn't have been older than 15, if even that old. He asked if I was lost. That was a reasonable question since I had taken too long deciding which street had the better view. I told him I was not lost and just sight seeing. At this he introduced himself and stuck out his hand. I shook his extended hand, but didn't quite hear what he said (he was standing on my left, deaf, side). I turned to put my good ear to him and he tried to pull me close for a kiss. Aye Carrumba! I was a bit shocked; however, I assumed this was a cultural misunderstanding. How was he to know I was deaf in one ear?

Awkwardly, I walk on and Juan never flags. He is right there step for step telling me how beautiful the jardin and the churches are and I keep saying, "Yes, I know. I've been here for a while." Not knowing how to get rid of him ( I have not learned the Spanish words for - Thank you, but you are making me uncomfortable and wish you would leave me alone) I think: Maybe if I give him a tip he will go away. He says thank you and we part at the corner of San Francisco and Barranca.

It is here, my friends, that I wish I could end my story; however, there is more. Oh so much more. My friendly tour guide quickly comes back, and turns into the most enterprising Don Juan. He begins by asking what I thought was: "Will you be my girlfriend?" to which I smile and reply "I'm sorry I have a boyfriend." Juan continues:

"Would you like to give me a kiss?"
"No, gracias, mis besos son para mi novio solamente. No thanks my kisses are only for my boyfriend." I try to walk faster.

"You are so pretty, you have nice hair." To which I think:Did he just say I have nice hair, I'm not sure better ask. On clarifying himself, I learn that while yes my hair may be pretty it's my breasts of which he is particularly fond . He is in fact so enamoured with "the girls" he asks to play with them.

Those of you that know me can picture my face at this point. I look around searching for a store to duck into and up head I see la policia. Juan must take my silence as misunderstanding, he continues his quest and asks me point blank if I want to make love, "Querias hacer amor?" I've decided that this has gone way too far and so quickly too. I drop the good-natured, stupid tourist act and pointedly look at the approaching police officer and back at Juan. With a smack on the shoulder and a sharp look in the eye, I drop the smile and raise my voice and carefully enunciate: "ADIOS, JUAN!"

I'm not exactly sure what was the deterrent for my passionate little friend. Maybe it was my I'm- going-to-kick-you-in-the-huevos look or the prominence of an authority figure, but I was relieved to see him go. Quite fittingly our separation took place right outside a store that sold sexy lingerie. The name of the store: SEXY. Is that Irony or coincidence? I don't know, but it sure tops my list of "Most Outrageous Encounters", and I can now say I was almost loved in San Miguel.

Malfunction

2009-07-08T14:13:00.005-05:00

San Miguel has proved to be a technological deadzone for me. At first my computer would not connect to the wifi, but now it is totally defunct. I can't send or post pictures because I have no way to get them to the public computer. Sorry you all will have to wait for when I return to the states for the pictures. Yesterday, I had to leave class early because of ¨the revenge¨ and I had read all my books, couldn't use my internet or the dvd player on my computer. My ipod is down and the cable on my mexico tv was out for some of the evening. The lights shut off for a while right around dark and my shower had lost all water pressure! Talk about boring/frustrating, good thing I was in the bathroom most of the day. With the exception of yesterday, I have greatly enjoyed my first two weeks here in SMA.

Today I am back among the living, and it is a gorgeous day, a bit hot, but in the shade there is a nice breeze. My goal for today is to find a juvenile spanish book so that I can practice reading in the language.

This afternoon, There is suppose to be a parade for the new Mayor of San Miguel, Lucy Nunez. Elections were held on Sunday and Sra. Nunez is the first femal mayor of San Miguel. My teacher Elvira is really happy/excited about the change.

I´m thinking of going to the botanical garden this afternoon or tomorrow after class. There is so much to see and do in and around San Miguel. I won´t have time for it all.

Fourth of July

2009-07-03T19:22:00.006-05:00

San Miguel is a city of celebration. Everyday is an excuse for a festival. Because of the multitude of cultures that converge on this small city, both religious and secular holidays are celebrated. When a group of people live in San Miguel their fiestas are adopted. For example, the 4th of July, tomorrow there is to be a chili cookoff down town and I wouldn't be suprised if there were fireworks.
Fireworks seem to be a part of life here, as if they are saying: "Hooray, it's Friday," or "Thank Guad"* we lived another day." Maybe it's just an effect of the tequila, I don't know. On my first day here we passed a small family fiesta and they were letting off noise makers and what not and my driver turned to me and said, "Welcome to Mexico, Amber".

* There is a bumper sticker here that reads: In Guad we trust. Guad being the Virgin of Guadalupe.

Waterfall

2009-07-02T23:55:00.001-05:00

It's the rainy season here and that means most afternoons and some evenings it rains. Some times it pours, and then sometimes a quick shower. The last few days we have seen rain on the heavy side. I walked to dinner tonight around 7:30 as the dark ominous clouds were rolling in. Each of my footsteps echoed with booming thunder. Just as I was turning the corner from Jesus onto Cuadrante, it started to rain. Luckily, I had my paragua and the restaurante, La Grotta/The Grotto, was only steps away. You can go either up or down once you get into the restaurant but I like the downstairs because you are looking up at the people and cars on the street and it seems as if you are below the rain and the traffic.

Once I was seated and had placed my order, I became lost in the rain. The drops were fat and heavy drowning out the sounds around me. It was as if I were completely alone even though all of the other four downstairs tables were taken.

By the time I finished eating, the rain had slackened, and was barely noticeable. It was a fine night for walking even though the cobble stone streets become very slick and dangerous after the rain. I'm strolling along taking in the refreshing breath of the newly cleaned air. With the moon glistening off the puddles and drops of rainwater the park glitters like a field of diamonds. I am half way from my apartment and the restaurant. It's here that the water converges from the two parts of town to make its gurgling retreat into the runoff grate. The rain has driven everyone back in and the night is calm and quiet. The only sounds are the slip sliding of the water along the smooth stones, far away a dog barks and some where a car turns down a street. I'm lost in a gentle reverie. I feel like a movie star, but suddenly I'm awashed in reality. That car is on my street. That car is passing me. That car is driving through the slip sliding water sending a waterfall of recycled rain down upon me. If that isn't something from a movie, I'll be damned; however, my mood could not be washed away, because inside I was still afloat on waves of happiness, you see I was thinking about Kevin and our life together in Montana.

Live Well

2009-07-01T18:58:00.001-05:00

There is an abundance of life here in San Miguel. It flows from behind the ornate wooden doors into the quaint cobble stone streets and shaded central parks. It’s lived in the open. Life vibrates through the sound of the church bells ringing in the new day and most nights burst forth in a spectacular array of colors as a celebration of having lived another day. Life walks the street in pairs, groups and families. Life sings, dances and smiles.

My teacher, Elvira, says that Mexicans don’t think about the future much. They have been taught to live each day well, and to be glad to be alive because no one knows what tomorrow may bring. Ironic, because I came here hoping to foresee my own future to try and plan a strategy for what may come.

I still have no clue what job I may hold; however, each morning I will think of the church bells, and remember to celebrate that which I hold dear - mi familia, mis amigas, mi novio - Mi Vida.

Mi Historia

2009-06-29T13:22:00.000-05:00

The following is an example of my homework for this week. In it I am using the preterit to describe when I was young:

Mi Historia
Yo naci en tejas durante el ano mil novecientos setenta y siete. Cuando era joven, mi familia vivía en muchos pueblos in tejas. Nos movíamos mucho, y no teníamos mucho dinero. Un día mi papa obtuvo un buen trabajo y mi mama ganaba empleo en el misma compañía. Por eso, no era necesario cambiarnos nunca más.
En ese tiempo mi familia vivía en Ponder, Tejas y yo tenia seis o siete anos. Yo Solía jugar juegos y deportes y montaba caballos también. Yo estaba contento y tenia muchos amigos.
Teníamos veinte anos que estaban viviendo en Ponder cuando mis padres cambiaron a Muenster, Tejas.
Yo Salí de la casa en Ponder después de terminar la escuela. Yo nunca he vivido en Ponder nunca más.

Los Veranos

Cuando era joven mi familia y yo viajábamos a mi tío quien vivía in sulfer springs, tejas. Mi tío tenía un Ranchito con caballos y vacas. Un día, mi tío nos enseno mi hermana y a mi como ordeñar las vacas y dar de comer los vaquitas con un botella.
Durante esas vacaciones mi hermana y yo jugábamos en los riachuelos con mis primos. Las vacaciones eran especiales.

Javier and Thelma

2009-06-28T13:22:00.006-05:00

Javier and Thelma are in my conversation class. Luckily they let me be a third wheel. These guys remind me too much of my friends back home. We've had a grand time getting to know one another and swapping stories. This picture was taken Saturday at a street vendor in the Jardin. After celebrating Thelmas birthday at the local pool hall, Limerick, they stopped for some late dinner. I was told by, Javi and Thelma that the hamberguesas were muy bueno. I left them sitting on the escalitas of the jardin and jumped into my 20 peso taxi to catch up on my beauty sleep. The next day, Thelmas birthday, Javier proposed. I wasn't there for that one.

Javier introduced Thelma and I to the cucaracha. If any of you are brave enough I'll initiate you when I get back to Texas.

Teusday we are going to a free violin concert at St. Paul's Church. The violinist, Turkkan Osman Macias, will be playing his 250 year old violin in a concert he has dedicated to the people of San Miguel for their support. He will be attending the Manhattan School of Music in New York this coming fall. After the violin concert, on the escalitas, steps, of the Parroquia there will be the opening ceremonies and songfest for the International Children's Chorus.

There is music here every day and night of all kinds. I experienced my first Organ concert last week. I've seen Mariachis, a jazz band, a duo performing "Under the Board Walk" in Spanish and "Cocain" in English. I also spent some time in a Mexican Karaoke bar where the only song I recognized was "Summer Lovin'" from grease( I think I even have a video clip).

Oh,The Thinks You Can Think

2009-06-27T12:06:00.003-05:00

Dr. Seuss was wrong. I don't have to think very hard for the pearls of wisdom that pop randomly in and out of my head. For example, There are many many dogs here. Some are vagabonds that roam the street some are loved by Mexican families and some are on vacation with their owners from all over the world. There is one thing that San Miguel is lacking and that is grass. I saw a dog on a leash sniffing for a place to pee and decided the side walk was the best place. The sidewalk is also where dogs poop (and sometimes horses too!). So on passing a fresh steaming not quite a pile, I think to myself, "I wonder if dogs get sick to their stomach in Mexico too?" I mean really are the dogs drinking the filtered water? Do they have to "adjust" like I have. I think if you asked one of these dogs if SMA was a great vacation spot for pets they would say "No". Think of it, grass equals toilet to our furry friends and if you had the runs and no commode how great would your vacation be?

Mexi-coma

2009-06-25T14:32:00.002-05:00

For the past two days my schedule has been: go to schoool from 9-1, eat, take a siesta, wake up read, eat, read and go to bed. Tuesday it rained so I had a good excuse for being inside, but yesterday I had a touch of Moctezuma's Revenge so I didn't really feel like going out. Staying inside made me mucho homesick.

Today i've joined the masses of North Americans at San Miguel's public library. Masses is really an overstatement, but it definitely feels like I'm back home in the computer lab at UNT. I can connect to the internet for only 10 pesos.

I ate at a little restaurante, something something Dona, where I had two huge gorditas. One was chorizo and the other aguacate, avocado, and an aqua fresca, sort of like mango juice, for only 30 something pesos. It was the best thing I've eaten here in SMA.

The keyboard here is different the return, shift and question mark keys are all in a different position. It'll take some getting use to.

I'll be posting pictures but I didn't know if I could use a thumb drive here or not.

The Intensity of Washing

2009-06-22T17:41:00.003-05:00

The washing machine and I are having a language barrier problem. It’s holding my clothes hostage, but I don’t know what it wants from me in order to get them back.

The maid comes on Wednesday, but today is Monday and my linen pants are too baggy to wear another day without being laundered. How hard could it be to wash my own laundry? I do it all the time at home. On approaching the machine, I’m comforted, nay tricked, by the two inch letters reading: EASY. This has proved to be the understatement of the day. Finding Radio shack yesterday was easier than washing a small load of whites.

This machine is new, clean, top of line with three knobs for: Nivel de agua, which means water level, (there’s a little symbol that looks kind of like a wave) Temperaturas, need I say more, and Intensidad de Lavado, intensity of washing, meaning delicates, extra dirty etc… I congratulate myself on knowing the proper settings: Medio, Manchas ligero, and Normal. I press the button reading Inicio, nothing, I press it again nada. I then start jabbing it repeatedly. After praying for serenity, I realize it isn’t plugged in. I Plug in black cord, lights come on, but hey what does that mean: Ciclos ecologicos? Ahh! It’s good for the environment, but wait there are more choices. Words I can’t comprehend: Remojo, Enjugar Exprimir and Lava. So once again I return to jabbing the selección button until the light is under the one word I understand, Lava, wash.

Whew, the machine begins to fill with water, so I add detergent, clothes and shut the lid. I hear it click softly behind indicating the safety lock is on, and I go inside to study.

Once inside I notice it is one o’clock, only an hour until siesta. After studying for a half hour, I assume my laundry is ready for the dryer. Boy was I wrong. As I approach I notice the mocking red light glaring at me like some devil from the underworld of washing, and there my close sit in a tepid gray pool of soapy water. It’s at this point I return to mashing buttons and muttering, “I just want clean clothes. I just want clean clothes.” I realize all this button pushing is the equivalent of screaming English at a foreigner and expecting them to understand, and like a foreigner the washer begins to shake it’s head. “Hooray” I celebrate the spin cycle, but this time I’m too cleaver to turn my back on the machine. I watch through the tempered glass top as it first drains then spins, then adds water, then spins, then adds water, then spins. It’s an endless cycle. I stand there watching becoming motion sick, when I decide it’s time to take matters into my own hands.

I push pause and then poke the red eyed monster until it selects exprimir. “Why not?” I think. This entire episode has been an experiment. Again with the spinning and spinning, I wait with my finger above the pause button should more water spit out into the machine. It stops, testing my patience. The door is still locked, so what do I do. Turn the fucker off. That’ll show you. Ha, no electricity no lock, or so one would believe. It’s at this point I contemplate running out into the street with a pleading, “Ayudame, ayudame” but what do I tell the person who decides to help. I accept defeat. With a glimmer of hope in my heart, I plug the machine back in wishing it will forgive my endless poking and cursing. Maybe just maybe, the machine will decide to relinquish its control of my clothing before the maid arrives on Wednesday.

I come inside look at the clock that reads 2:51 and think, “Tequila, now would be a good time to buy some tequila.” faintly I hear the chug-chug whirl of the machine and the faint whisper of a click. I charge at the door like Don Quixote attacking a windmill and rip the lid up before it decides to lock again. Hugging my clothes to my chest, I turn to the dryer and breath a sigh of relief for it reads: Whirlpool with end of cycle signal.

Fiesta Friday

2009-06-19T21:42:00.000-05:00

I’ve arrived in Queretaro, Mexico. It’s la fiesta de las iglesias, so there are fireworks in the sky.

I've just arrived at my lodging for the evening and have been welcomed by two true free spirits,
David and Zoe Sherill are wonderful people. He’s from Dallas, she’s from Ohio. The B and B is filled with handpainted tiles from Dolores Hildago, Handcarved wooden bed and mirror. This couple has retained the charm of a 300 year old casa while updating for guest use. Their knowledge of Queretaro has been extremely helpful and settling. I'm very glad I chose Quinta Zoe as my 1st stop in Mexico.

En Avion, on the air plane, I spoke with a nice college kid, in English, about Queretaro and San Miguel, but I stumbled over my fat tounge when I first tried to speak Spanish. So I went to the curb to “hail” a taxi only to stand there with a bewildered look on my face while everyone else was put into a taxi. Finally a nice senor asked, “tienes un boleto?” to which I replied, “aye, No” thankfully he didn’t laugh but instead directed me to the taxi desk where I became a stuttering Stanley, “bbbbbbbuenos dddddd noches” the lady is unimpressed doesn’t even take her eye from her cellphone and says, “donde vas”. Now I know what that means and how to reply to the question but my teeth, tongue and lips were revolting and refused to answer so I just handed her the paper with the address on it, to which she replied 160 pesos. Luckily my brains wasn’t on strike and I handed her the twenty dollar bill. My tongue decided to catch up but apparently not my vocal cords so I whispered, “dolares estan bien” aye aye aye, what a start. In the taxi I was too mortified by my mummified tongue to speak without out planning the conversation in my head, by that time I figured it was to late to just start blurting out the only phrases I had worked over in my brain. Luckily 15 minutes into the ride the lady with TB next to me asks “vacacione in Queretaro” to which I reply “Si”, it’s on open door so I run with my prepared phrases, “en la manana voy a San Miguel “ we have a short talk where I find out she has a sister in Huston but she herself is from Monterrey and is visiting a friend for 10 days. The cab driver was a handsome man who spoke way too quickly but had a kind face. At the end of our journey together the woman tells me that she has a dictionary for when she goes to Huston but doesn’t want to change ( I think she meant learn English but she could have been telling me she had cancer, I’m not certin) Near the end of our journey the woman turns to me and says “solo?” to which I nod yet again, smile and say “SI” I am alone in Mexico, now I’m going to see the fireworks.

Montana to Mexico

2009-06-18T23:45:00.002-05:00

I've just returned from spending time with Kevin and his boys in Montana. This trip itself was a whirlwind, first the packing up of his stuff from the Texas house and then moving it first into a uhaul storage space, then out again only a few days later. Whew, exhausting but so worth it.

I'll be heading to Queretaro, Mexico tomorrow before heading to San Miguel. I can't wait.

Palm to Palm

2009-06-04T21:47:00.002-05:00

Do they still put foot and hand prints of newborns on birth certificates? I remember the first time I looked at my baby book as an adult. I was awed by the tiny black smudges on the yellow tinged certificate. My father came upon me as I was tracing my finger along the delicate imprint of my beginning, and he said to me, "You were so small, your mother carried you on a pillow afraid you would slip through her hands. As you grew, I would hold our hands up in comparison." At this he took my hand and held it against his own palm to palm, finger to finger. "The last time we did this you said, ' you're so big and strong.' Now look at you. I'm so proud." With tears in our eyes we hugged, and I put that conversation away in my heart.

Who knew ink and paper could forge such a bond. I closed the book and tucked it into my box and together we loaded my car. He stood there with his arm around my mother and one hand held up as I drove away from the only home I had ever known. Long after his outstretched palm receded from my rear-view I could hear his words echoing in my head and they gave me the strength to move on. For the next few years when I missed home or felt like a failure I would pull out that scrap book and look at the first marks I had made in life. This review would always remind me that like those first few foot steps as a toddler I would falter and possibly fall, but my father’s words would be there to pull me up and help me along.

Years later, he was there helping me move out of the last in a string of college towns and into my own home. As we were unloading my things, my pa came into the room holding up my baby book, "Ma, look at this." The three of us sat cross-legged on the shiny hardwood floor of my new house looking at the clippings, scribbles and pictures that made up our past. In the book I had pasted things from high school and college. It was thick with memories and only a few pages remained blank. I grabbed a pen and traced each of my parent's hands into the back of my book, and told them, "just in case I forget how much I've grown." I asked my father if he remembered the day I left for college, the last time we looked at that book together. He smiled knowing it was a moment we both cherished.

Through the years I've called upon him to fix this or move that. This spring for the first time, I noticed the flag in my father's step. I saw the arthritic curl in his fingers, and reacted by trying to unburden him of his load. He put his gnarled hand on mine and said: "Let me get that; it's too heavy."

I'm 32 now and my father is 66. I've already made his Father's day card and across the palm of my grown-woman hand print the sentiment reads: Papa you're still so strong.

This is a tribute to family bonds, while it's written from the heart and some of the elements are true, it's not a memoir. It is a true portrayal of the love I have for my pa. It was written as an article for helium.com.

Negligence

2009-06-02T17:13:00.006-05:00

I've been extremely negligent with my post the last two weeks due to travel and infirmity.

I did go to Phoenix and visit my brother. I was in luck and it was overcast so we actually got to go outside without suffocating in the sweltering heat. I had a grand time with Gary and Angel. His band, The Enginears (their spelling not mine), played at a local sports bar & grill, Dillion's. It was surreal seeing Gary up there singing and playing his guitar. Reminded me of the first time I met my brother way back when I was 6 or 7 and he was in his twenties. I think he even looked younger being in his element like that.

During my trip, what I thought was an allergic reaction to dog hair morphed into a grotesque case of pink eye. Seeing how I was away from home and currently with out insurance, I decided on the homeopathic rememdy which I am pleased to say worked beautifully. The OTC product, Similasan, took a few days to work, but it didn't sting like steroid products do and I didn't have to get a perscription.
Apparently once I returned from Arizona, I was still a hot bed for bacterial infection. Kevin's family was coming in on Thursday and Friday of last week for Cody's graduation.

Thursday, I had a sore throat was dog tired and woke up in the middle of the night with a high fever. I spent the festive graduation weekend in bed with what I am calling the strep-flu. Not sure what it was, but I think I may have had an out of mind experience.

Now everyone is gone, and I am back to normal. I'm hoping to get back into my posting habit, so while I'm in Mexico I'll be posting daily.

Road Trip

2009-05-19T13:16:00.003-05:00

I've just returned home from my latest trip to Montana. I flew up to Bozeman on Friday, where Kevin and I attended an art walk. Then, on Saturday we drove down to Denver for the night and on to Canyon, Texas on Sunday. We spent that evening with Kevin's daughter Katie and her boyfriend Tim. We returned home on Monday. It was a beautiful trip. Everything was green and the country side was in bloom. I failed to take any photos but I will on my next trip.

I leave on Thursday to visit my brother, Gary, in Phoenix. His band will be playing while I'm there, so that will be a ton of fun.

Today I am starting my training for the Susan G. Komen 3day walk. I'm excited about this journey. It will be one thing I can cross off my bucket list.