tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-85256733297359942932024-03-13T13:54:38.316-07:00LocaVerb: On living with a conscious and enjoying the local scenery.Live simply. Enjoy much.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-44863018863559456762013-04-26T08:55:00.001-07:002013-04-26T08:55:11.374-07:00From the Mouths of Babes<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Whenever I teach English 11B I have to teach Elie Wiesel's famous Holocaust memoir, <i>Night</i>. The kids are generally really interested in this unit. We end with a discussion about forgiveness and also watching the film <i>Hotel Rwanda</i> and a brief study of Darfur (maybe Syria this time around). It's important for kids to know about the Holocaust, but it's also important for them to know that this kind of thing is still taking place. When the kids have to answer the question, "why should high schoolers read <i>Night</i>?" They invariably say, "So this never happens again." <i>Now </i>I try and pose the question, "why does this keep happening?" (Side note: don't believe me? Click <a href="http://www.genocidewatch.org/" target="_blank">here</a>), because I want them to know that the hate and organized killing of the Jews (and others) is not an isolated event in history.<br />
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Today in class we watched some excerpts from an Oprah special where she and Wiesel return to Auschwitz. Wiesel is wise, poetic, and profound and Oprah is over-dramatic, self-important, and prying as is to be expected. But other than that, it's a pretty good piece. (You can watch it <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qguRarhTc-E&playnext=1&list=PLD92BC864E9E29150&feature=results_main" target="_blank">here</a>). The film includes some upsetting images and also an upsetting conversation about the fate of babies and young children in the camp. Afterwards, I asked the kids to journal about whether or not films like this should exist. I asked: Should we include graphic images in documentaries such as this? Should the news replay images of the Boston bombing victims, the twin towers collapsing, the explosion in Texas, people crying? Should museums keep artifacts such as shoes, clothes, and toys? Should movies and texts display images of dead bodies? Is there a benefit to constantly evoking these images? etc...<br />
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Most of the kids felt that the emotional impact of such images was important in the remembering and honoring of the victims of such tragedies. A few found them personally upsetting and therefore didn't like to look at them for themselves. One student wrote a particularly thoughtful paragraph that I just thought should be shared. I like this excerpt because it's thoughtful, concise, and so wise to come from the mind of a 16 year old. I like this excerpt because it comes from a special ed student who doesn't participate much in class. I like this excerpt because it brings me hope maybe this generation does in fact understand the weight and responsibility of history:<br />
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<i>These things show us the dark side of humanity. They show us just how far we have come and our ability to overcome horrific events. These things remind us of the mistakes of our ancestors and those in our past that must not be repeated again. They show us that anyone can do bad things, but it's the people who shine in the darkness that show just how good people can truly be. We NEED to know about this kind of stuff. We have to ask a lot of questions...</i></div>
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-73533084449475927182013-03-22T08:40:00.001-07:002013-03-22T08:40:32.113-07:00America's Bad Food: Whose Fault is It?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am constantly working towards a whole foods lifestyle. It's not easy. I married a man who does not like vegetables and I have the cliche picky 3 year old, however, I'm doing the best that I can. I'm not perfect and we occasionally eat things in my house that come from cans and jars. We occasionally go out to eat. We grab fast food when we're on a road trip. We eat hot dogs when camping and, yes, my child has eaten Kraft mac and cheese. However, I see everyday and each meal as a fresh start. I try and make smart food choices one forkful at a time. I whole-heartedly believe that the health and welfare of this country is tied strongly to food. I believe it comes from the way we treat our soil all the way to the seasonings we add at the table.<br />
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Because this is a topic that I feel extremely passionate about, I like to talk about it, post about it, etc. Food is personal, however, and you can't necessarily go around criticizing people's food choices. I have had co-workers voluntarily apologize for their food choices at lunch when it never even occurred to me to pay attention! I'm hyper-focused on my family's food... not yours! But it's because food is tied to our economic selves, our cultures, our emotions, our families and childhoods. Simple things can provide us comfort (peanut butter and jelly on a Ritz cracker, for example) and unusual meals can bring back a flood of emotion from a past experience. Everyone prepares meatloaf a different way. Everyone has a secret to the perfect pizza crust. Some of us count calories, some watch fat, some don't count anything, but it seems as though everyone has a complex relationship with food, for better or worse. And so, on the social networking sites that I frequent, I try and balance the difference between sharing information that I think people might find helpful and informative with that that is purely judgmental or emotional.<br />
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Likewise, depending on who I'm talking with and what we are talking about, I waiver regarding who's to blame for the current crisis in our food industry. The reality is, our food is full of junk and I don't think people realize this. Or, they realize it, but don't know how to avoid it. Or, they think they are making healthy choices, but are being misled. Or, they simply don't care. So a large part of me blames the food industry for doing these things on purpose as well as the USDA and FDA who allow such things to go on. But then there are the people who don't care. Now, I consider myself an educated individual, but not much smarter than the average Joe and I have been able to research and understand these things, so why can't everyone else? Sure the food companies are playing marketing games and sneaking things into their food, but we also live in an age of information and Americans need to take some personal responsibility here. Sure our cafeteria food should be healthier and our kids should get recess, but no one is stopping you from packing your child's lunch and taking them to the park after school, right?<br />
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Frequently on Pinterest I see comments attached to pins that demonstrate how misguided our healthy food habits are. A person will pin a homemade ketchup recipe with the tag "Healthy ketchup! no chemicals or icky stuff." The most unhealthy things in a bottle of store-bought ketchup are the high fructose corn syrup (HFCS) and the salt content. So if you are going to make your own with canned tomato paste (salt) and sugar and more salt, you aren't really making a "healthy ketchup," but rather one that might have less salt and no HFCS. Is this better than store-bought? Well, considering the canned tomato paste might contain BPA? It's a trade off, I guess.<br />
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Another common one: "healthy brownies! never buy a mix again!" and the pin takes you to a recipe that includes white flour, refined sugar, and probably oil. Would these taste better than a box mix? Heck yes. Are they "healthier?" Probably not. The box mix has listed various additives, but these are most likely in your store-bought flour anyway. Plus anywhere you find white flour, refined sugar, and oil, you're just plain not creating a healthy dish... delicious? probably. Healthy? nope.<br />
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*Don't get me wrong - if given the choice, I'd go for the homemade version any day. Home cooks use far less salt, sugar, and fat than processed foods and you're avoiding preservatives for the most part, but we fail to consider the quality of the pantry items we are using in some cases.<br />
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Similarly, and with the exception of dairy (usually), "low fat," "no fat," and "sugar free" might save you some fat grams, but you're trading them for sugar and/or salt content and in the case of "sugar free" you're nixing refined sugar for an artificial sweetener like aspartame. I know people love their diet sodas, but aspartame is a chemical poison in my opinion. A good rule of thumb, if it's banned when you're pregnant, then why would you consume it when you're not? Google it if you don't believe me.<br />
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I don't have a degree in nutrition - I just read (and I also care). So maybe the responsibility should fall on the individual? But then again, there are many, many books like<a href="http://www.npr.org/blogs/thesalt/2013/02/26/172969363/how-the-food-industry-manipulates-taste-buds-with-salt-sugar-fat?utm_source=npr&utm_medium=facebook&utm_campaign=20130226" target="_blank"> Salt, Sugar, Fat</a> by Michael Moss. This book details how the food industry manipulates our taste buds with salt and fat. Or <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2013/03/17/opinion/sunday/how-to-force-ethics-on-the-food-industry.html?_r=2&" target="_blank">THIS</a> New York Times article which everyone should read that outlines a bit of the marketing and lobbying the food industry does - and how aware they are of the choices they're making. So then I think, well, Americans are fighting a losing a battle and someone needs to step in.<br />
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At the end of the day, though, I think I fall on the side of personal responsibility. There is just too much information available these days for us to claim ignorance. Where I <i>would</i> like to see more government regulation and oversight is in the case of agriculture. Pesticides, GMO's, and water and land usage are big things that are beyond one individual's choice in the produce department. How we treat our seeds, water, and farm land is going to affect population for years to come and this is an area where I'd like to see some serious reform. I also know that many Americans don't have access to fresh foods and that our food aid system needs some serious overhaul - these are two more examples of places where I think a larger entity is to blame.<br />
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But in terms of the average person I interact with, healthy food choices are usually an option. My facebook feed is flooded with updates about autism/learning disabilities/ADHD, allergies, sickness, infections, weight/dieting issues, lack of energy, etc and we would be just plain stupid to not examine the food choices we are making and the foods we are feeding our children.<br />
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So is the industry to blame? Yes. Is the individual also at fault here? Absolutely. Wake up America, no one is looking out for you. It is time to take some responsibility for your own health and welfare and the health and welfare of your children.</div>
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-19469207938647465092013-02-19T06:42:00.002-08:002013-02-19T06:42:29.059-08:00For Love or Tax Exemptions: On Why We Have Kids<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
When I was a bit younger and newly married, I was very open to the idea of never having kids. I had a great new husband, he was in a band, I was out of college, I had a job, we just bought a house, and who has time for kids? Kids only get in the way of all the fun things that adults can do. Over time, this sentiment adapted only slightly in my reasoning. The world is over populated as it is, why would I bring more human beings into it? Politics, environment, religion, economy - every news story was dismal and then I entered a phase where, since I could see no benefit in it for a the child, I assumed that having children was a purely selfish act.<br />
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Sure, if you feel some obligation to propagate the species, or your dying last name, or your future cult, army, or baseball team, then I guess having children is a logical choice, but I just couldn't come up with any reason that wasn't centered around me. People would tell me that kids were so fun and you'd never understand unconditional love until you had one. People would say, "but think of all the places you could take them? Experiences you could provide." All the things that were in it for me.<br />
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So then I decided adoption was the way to go. The kids are already here, they are in desperate need of love and attention, it would help solve a global problem, while still fulfilling my curiosity about raising kids, but adoption is expensive and can take years. And I felt like having to choose foreign or national, open or closed was difficult and weird and my husband was only moderately interested in the idea, so I went back to figuring we wouldn't have kids.<br />
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Then I got a stomach bug. I was pretty sure I wasn't pregnant, but bought a test to check. Well it was negative, but when I looked at the little stick three minutes later and saw the negative reading I had a feeling of disappointment. I didn't know where this was coming from. Did I want a baby? So I spent two weeks trying to analyze my feelings. When I broached the subject with my husband he said he had been thinking of it too. After all, we had done a lot of things in our three years of marriage and six years of dating. I didn't go to all of his gigs anymore and many weekends we just hung out around the house. We still enjoyed each other's company, but we felt like we were ready for something else to do. Some larger purpose. Was this selfish? Were we about to embark on a baby simply because we were bored? Or because we wanted something more meaningful? Or because we had used up all of our free movie passes at the local theater? We didn't know the answer, but decided to take the plunge. After all, it takes some people months or years to get pregnant, we'd have plenty of time to get used to the idea... 28 days later, the stick said positive.<br />
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So then there is nothing to do, but get excited. Once you're pregnant there is no time for asking "why" or "was this a bad idea?", you simply must roll with it. I felt as though refusing contemporary baby convenience items and reading up on natural birthing and parenting was a way to go about this whole process without feeding into an industry I hated anyway. I already ate healthy, but I stepped up the organics, read labels, read books about labels, exercised, drank plenty of water, and never, ever laid on my back.<br />
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Well fast forward a year or so and now I had a real, live baby who I was responsible for. The economy entered a recession and I had some fleeting moments of guilt as I looked into his innocent brown eyes and wondered what his future would be like. Was it selfish to bring this child into a world of war? Would we ever be able to afford to send him to college? Would he find a job? Would he be successful? Would he be happy? What were we thinking? But some nights were hard and many days were hard too and then I decided this wasn't purely selfishness. A lot of self-LESS-ness goes into caring for a baby and so then I was left with - why do this then?<br />
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The first year was hard for me and not because of the usual suspects. We were lucky to have a baby who slept six to eight hour stretches from the beginning. He rarely cried and nursed like a champ. To date he's had two ear infections and nothing stronger than a little cold. He's only vomited once, so far, in this 3.5 years of life. So it wasn't that usual stuff that was hard for me. It was the fact that my husband and I were devoting our entire days to this small thing that gave us nothing in return. Certainly when he started smiling at us, it helped, but I craved some return of emotion. Certainly I loved him and hugged him and kissed him and snuggled him, but longed for the day when he hugged me back.<br />
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Well I am now the parent of a three and a half year old and, in terms of returning love, the toddler years are the best. Now he will walk around the house singing, "Momma I love you, I love my momma" and he repeated tells me I'm his best friend and just last week he called me his sweetheart. He demands a long and tedious hug and kiss routine before either my husband or I are allowed to even step outside and he wants nothing more than our constant attention all. the. time. It is only now, that he is able to share his thoughts so clearly, that I am starting to understand the why of having kids. The other night at bed my son said, "I love all the mommies and all the daddies." We've been talking about homes that only have one or the other because one of his daycare buddies has divorced parents and this has caused some confusion amongst the three-year-olds. So I said, "Well some people have a mom and a dad, and some have only a mom or only a dad, and some have two moms, or two dads..." And he smiled and said, "oh yeah! I love that!" So I sat back and thought that I could craft a thoughtful facebook post about that, but then I decided I had more to say than a few sentences.<br />
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Watching a child grow is truly a lesson in love, and I don't mean a lesson in how much you love them (though that will blow your mind), but a lesson in how love works. Toddlers greet everything new person, place, and thing with excitement, interest, and love. With the exception of green beans and bounce houses, my son's first response to most things is happiness. And I am lucky enough to get to watch and process with my own knowledge of the world. Watching a toddler grow is a true demonstration that hate, judgement, and criticism must be taught or learned. Watching a toddler get excited about an art project that involves a toilet paper tube and some yarn reminds us of the simple things. The fact that your child will play in the box the toy came in longer than with the actual toy reminds us that stuff is just stuff. And in a pile of new Christmas or birthday toys, your child will still always relish a hug and kiss from you - how many of us can say we'd feel the same?<br />
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Adult life makes so many demands on us and we see unfairness and tragedy. It makes us cautious, guarded, jaded, sarcastic, but the pleasure of having children around is the presence of a reminder of what really matters. And what really matters isn't dishes or deadlines, it's hugs, tents, tickling, and art projects. I have to admit, I'm generally reminded of these things only in my guiltiest moments. When I snap at my son because I'm trying to get dinner on the table and he looks so sad that I refused to sit down and color with him. It is in those twinges of guilt that I am able to remember that eating dinner 10 minutes late will not kill anyone and that someday on my deathbed I'm not going to look back fondly at how promptly I served dinner, but on those moments with my son.<br />
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So, I'm back to the notion of selfishness. To say that having a child is great because it reminds me daily of what's important in life is fairly selfish, but the fact that this daily reminder forces me to go out into the world and act with more peace and patience in my heart is not. I teach high school kids and, while they definitely can have their challenging moments, I now see them all as someone else's baby. Suddenly they aren't just students to me, they are kids. They are <i>somebody's </i>kids and I make decisions based on what I would want for my child. In fact I even wrote the phrase, "Is this good enough for Dylan?" on a notecard and keep it at my desk. In those moments when I feel like throwing out a worksheet or some silent reading I think about what I would want a teacher to do when my child was sitting in that desk in front of her. When I see a child running from their mother in a crowded room, I have no problem stopping to help wrangle because all kids are <i>somebody's</i> kids now. I give sympathetic smiles to the parents of screaming children at grocery stores and resturants, rather than judgement and looks of disgust because I have been there. I don't care if that child seems too old for a pacifier or that that dad is feeding his daughter a cookie at 8:00 am because we are all trying to survive the best we can.<br />
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The first night home from the hospital I remember sitting on the couch holding my son, watching him sleep, and wondering how anyone could turn their back on their own child or do anything to harm such a perfect little thing. I held this little human who had never experienced disappointment, fear, distrust, guilt, or humiliation. He had yet to fall and scrape his knee or bonk his head. And I couldn't think of a thing he could do that would change my feelings. He might be gay, he might be straight, he might be transexual, he might have a flair for the dramatic, he might be incredibly stubborn, he might inherit his mother's temper, he might be laid back, someday he will probably make a bad choice, he might be smarter than me, he could have a learning disability, he could develop a physical disability, he could play football and, despite all of these things, I would love him so much it would hurt my heart sometimes (but hopefully no football, haha). And then I go to school and see the bizarre things teenagers do and say or I watch the news and listen to hate speech and lies and I hear that the economy is struggling and I just keep coming back to the notion of love and peace and how powerfully important these concepts are. Because now my job is to ready the world for my son. My job is to actively do something to make things better because I have a vested interest and if we are all acting this way, then the selfishness of loving our own children is far outweighed by the positivity we can offer as a collective.<br />
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So if raising a child helps me remember that life is about more than stuff and deadlines and that our place in this world is to help each other rather than to judge, then I'd say having children is not selfish at all, but the best way I can imagine to help us learn how to love one another and treat each other with respect. And this is coming from someone who is not terribly gooey with emotion. The toddler and I have battled through tantrums, power struggles, injuries and messes. I don't walk around in this zen-like aura everyday. I'm a normal person who makes judgements and mistakes and lots and lots of sarcastic comments, but I think my favorite thing so far about raising a child is that every night at bedtime I get 15-20 minutes of snuggle and talk time with a person who has profoundly more insight I think than I do and everyday I get a fresh start. Simply having him around forces me to care about my actions and that alone makes the whole thing worthwhile.</div>
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-19313303924890349052012-11-18T06:51:00.003-08:002012-11-18T15:27:10.636-08:00On Liberals and Libertarians<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Well here I am. I'm sitting in the kitchen of a complete stranger, just outside of town, preparing to learn how to make cheese. One of the two hosts, a man, spoke about the values of goat's milk, the dangers of cow's milk, and the effect on his autistic son. He philosophizes about this dangerous food system we live by in this country and I nod along in agreement. Then the second host, a woman, speaks about the changing nature of personal farming, about government regulations and intrusions, about USDA controls and unfair taxes. I nod a little less enthusiastically because, as a Democrat, my vote probably put politicians in power who increased government reach into small farmer's lives... let's be honest. Then one of the participants speaks, she talks about knowing where her food comes from, the value of whole foods, and the Slow Food Movement. I chime in from time to time. Then the last participant speaks, a woman who is there with her husband, who summarizes everything we've been saying with "that's why our family has chosen to homestead and homeschool our children, completely pull out of mainstream society and raise our family our own way." If you have been imagining some sort of soothing music playing in the background, this is where you'd insert the sound of screeching breaks.<br />
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This is an observation I continue to make in my interactions with other homesteading/self-sustaining folks and is a blog concept that's been bouncing around in my mind for months now: there is a point, in my opinion, where the extreme Right and the extreme Left meet. As if political values can be measured on a circle rather than a timeline. I consider myself very liberal. I believe that many aspects of our system are broken and until these problems are rectified then I am okay with the government providing financial aide. We're talking about children, after all. I would never have an abortion, but I do not consider myself in a position to tell another woman what her choice should be. I believe whole-heartedly that global warming is a thing that exists and is happening now. I believe corporate interests have too much power in this country, but I also understand that we are currently reliant on this power to fuel our economy. I don't like it. I try and make consumer choices to change it, but I am also realistic about the current state of things. I'm not sure isolationism is a good foreign policy, but I hate war.<br />
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And as a result, I like to think that I live my life according to the following values: tolerance, sustainability, personal responsibility, compassion for others, and a focus on whole living.<br />
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So I raise chickens and bees and I can produce. I cook from scratch. We limit technology use in our household and we let our child play outside (sometimes alone) and fall down in the dirt. We rarely medicate and barely vaccinate. I pay my taxes, but make charitable donations to local organizations. I plan to supplement my child's public education with concepts that we value and we have a loose idea of religion, nothing that relates too much to Jesus, but more a general concept of God. <br />
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I go to workshops about raising bees, making cheese, canning, grinding grain into flour, and self-sustainability. And when I'm at these various functions, I meet many people. And many of them are Libertarians. In many ways we couldn't be more different and yet we are living our lives so similarly. The woman who spoke up at the cheese-making workshop did not, for example, believe in global warming, but they were working to reduce their footprint for money-saving/sustainability purposes. They homeschooled because of their own values (mostly religious), but spent a portion of the school day teaching the kids how to tend a garden. I assumed they were pro-life. I know they were opposed to government intrusion and yet, they were living their life nearly exactly like I was.<br />
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Our motivations for why we grew our own food and were learning to make cheese were different, but nonetheless, there we were. Our votes mostly likely canceled each other out and, yet, there we were. Me thinking the Democrats could steer us closer to an ideal and they putting their money on the Libertarians.<br />
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Now I'm not one of these "can't we all just get along" kind of people. I like competition and I understand its value in a free world, but the more I hang out in these circles with other Carhart-wearing beekeepers, the more I find our values are nearly the same. We agree on a general moral decline in this nation, but they cite some specifics from the Bible and I cite a more generic idea of the Golden Rule. And so we learn from each other and work together, but never discuss politics and all fall victim to a nostalgia that probably never existed.<br />
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So as we recover from another election season and I watch/read all these stories about what the Republicans must do to win in 2016, I've never been more sure that a two party system is not working. I'm less and less becoming 100% Democratic, but the options are so polarizing. I'd like to think that Americans, in general, are becoming more complex and having only candidate A and candidate B is not going to serve us in the future. And so my point in this was only to put down on (virtual) paper this trend that I've noticed, especially in these divisive times. I'm not interested in arguing politics or finger-pointing, but maybe am, after all proposing that "we all just get along."</div>
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-24378879591227986772012-09-26T08:22:00.002-07:002012-09-26T08:22:12.989-07:00Harvesting Honey<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
So fall is the time of year when beekeepers harvest honey. The bees store honey as food to get them through the winter. In order for humans to take this honey (1) there needs to be a surplus and/or (2) you must supplement your bees with sugar water. The husband and I have decided to feed our bees as little as possible and let nature take it's course. However, we were surprised with the amount of honey they stored and decided to harvest 2 frames. There were about 12 frames of honey so we've left plenty for the bees!<br />
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If you have tons of honey to process or want to keep the comb in tact, you must purchase an extractor:<br />
<img height="212" src="http://www.bouteljeproducts.co.nz/images/boutelje_24fs_honey_extractor_small.jpg" width="320" />
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These are giant centrifuges and run between $200-$400 depending on the size. These basically spin and whip all the honey out. We do not have one of these, so we did it by hand.<br />
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Here is the first frame. The light yellow part is the cap over the honey. Both sides of the frame look like this and both sides contain honey.<br />
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Then you use a sharp knife to scrape the caps off. You can see (below the knife) honey is oozing out and running down the frame.<br />
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More oozing...<br />
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Top half: honey. Bottom half: capped honey.<br />
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Pile of comb:<br />
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We repeated the process on the other side of the frame, then strained the honey through this wire mesh strainer twice.<br />
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Then we strained the honey through an even finer strainer (from our coffee pot!) to ensure that we caught any impurities.<br />
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Then we packaged it in jars! I used the flash in this picture so it looks like it's glowing, but that was the only way to show you how completely clear, smooth, and delicious it looks! One frame (front and back) yielded 4 cups of honey.<br />
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Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-35266790582544280942012-07-19T11:57:00.000-07:002012-07-19T20:10:13.898-07:00Putting Mommy-Guilt to Rest<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Today I'm feeling rather cranky and impatient with my little one. I put him down for a nap, laid on the couch, and replayed the day in my head. There were a number of things I felt crappy about. So, in order to indulge by bad mood, I made a mental list of all the things I did wrong that morning. To my surprise, my actions and words were not really<i> that</i> bad. Most of what I replayed where frustrating THOUGHTS I had had. About half of them were from some sort of judgmental inner-monologue that's always expecting myself to keep up with those blogging Pinterest moms who do amazing art projects and always know just what to say and the other half of my thoughts were cranky things that I might think, but would never say out loud to my kid. Let's be honest, haven't we all thought "just stop talking!" (or worse) while our kids are babbling on when we really just want 5 seconds to be alone with our thoughts? So, I offer to you, a list of crappy things I did today, followed by the same list from a far healthier perspective:<br />
<br />
1. Yesterday Dylan didn't take a nap at daycare. We came home and played in his pool for a couple hours then he was SO cranky that I had him lay on the couch and watch cartoons. He refused dinner and whined or screamed if we even looked at him the wrong way so I put his PJ's on, turned on a Disney cartoon, and he was asleep in 10 minutes. It was 7:15. So I put him to bed with no dinner.<br />
<br />
2. Today, Dylan woke up at 7 am because, well, he went to bed at 7 pm. I turned on Mickey's Clubhouse and let him lay in bed and watch an hour of TV while I drifted in and out of conciousness because I did not go to bed at 7 pm.<br />
<br />
3. When we got up, Dylan ate peanut butter and jelly toast for the 87th morning in a row. It's the only thing he'll eat for breakfast.<br />
<br />
4. I was so excited that it wasn't 1000 degrees in my house so I unloaded the dishwasher, made chicken stock, and brewed a big pot of coffee instead of changing Dylan's diaper. I didn't remember it until around 9:30. I felt like crap.<br />
<br />
5. Dylan lined up all of his construction vehicles in the kitchen. I tripped over one, banged my knee on the counter, and yelled something like "Ow! Dylan, get those toys out of the kitchen!!!"<br />
<br />
6. I suggested Dylan decorate one of his art projects (a little mailbox that we painted a couple days ago) with stickers we recently bought (thinking it would occupy him while I unloaded the dishwasher) then grumbled when he asked for help every 5 seconds.<br />
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7. We ran to the store to get a couple things and Dylan got it in his mind that we were buying a new motorcycle toy. When I informed him that we were not, he whined, cried, kicked, and yelled. I began to lose my patience.<br />
<br />
8. Dylan recovered from his tantrum them proceeded to ask me 100 questions all with the follow-up question of "why?" as we made our way through the store I resorted to an annoyed "I don't know" because I got sick of answering them. I officially lost my patience.<br />
<br />
9. We stopped at the library to fax something. When I told Dylan we weren't getting any new books (because we have a stack at home) he flopped on the floor and yelled, "But I want some, I want some, I want some!" I picked him up to leave, but still managed to see the stank eye given to me by the librarian.<br />
<br />
10. For lunch, I served Dylan a piece of leftover pizza. It was homemade, but I did not include any fruits or veggies because I didn't feel like getting any out and I just wanted to get to nap time. He asked me more "why" questions. I gave him more "I don't know" answers.<br />
<br />
11. I told Dylan it was nap time and he began to cry and ask for his dad. I said, "I wish dad was here too" in a less-than-pleasant-tone... then I felt crappy.<br />
<br />
***So first, when I sat down to write this list I immediately thought, "oh, I guess there weren't AS many horrible moments as I originally thought," which I think is an important point. We dwell on a tantrum or a harsh word that we later feel guilty about, but in doing that we overlook the good pieces of the day. Here's the same day with a different focus:<br />
<br />
1. Last night Dylan had tons of fun playing (naked) in his pool. He's getting so much more confident in the water and is fun to watch. It was hot this week and he was exhausted so he went to bed early. We all know toddlers have the weirdest eating pattern so I'm not going to lose sleep about the missed dinner, but make sure he eats a solid breakfast.<br />
<br />
2. Sure it's not ideal that he watched an hour of cartoons, but once we're up, the TV is off all day long. In addition, it's DVR'd so there aren't commercials and it's appropriate programming for his age.<br />
<br />
3. For breakfast Dylan had peanut butter and jelly on toast. Sure he has it every morning, but I do buy whole grain bread with no HFCS, I use natural peanut butter, and homemade jelly. This meal provides fiber, whole grains, and protein. He also had a glass of white milk.<br />
<br />
4. I did forget to change his diaper and that's crappy, but he seems none the worse for wear. He's never had diaper rash and he was happily playing so let it go.<br />
<br />
5. I repeatedly tell him not to bring toys into the kitchen when I'm cooking. It was unfortunate that I scolded him, but me tripping over them, saying "ow," and then reminding him of the rule was a natural learning lesson. And he did move them and apologize to me.<br />
<br />
6. Even though I was annoyed that I kept having to stop what I was doing to help Dylan with the stickers, it was a good fine motor activity for him and I did keep most of my grumbling to myself. Sure I was shrugging on the inside, but on the outside I stayed pretty neutral. And when he was done he was so proud of himself. He even took it to bed with him for his nap!<br />
<br />
7. I got nothin about the tantrum. It was a tantrum in the most classic sense: he wanted a toy, I said no, he cried. Even though I wanted to have my own tantrum, it did illicit a conversation about the difference between "need" and "want" and I did tell him that I understood why he was frustrated. Now, in my current reflective state, I remember a babycenter.com article about how toddlers wear their hearts on their sleeves. Haven't we all wanted to kick, scream, or cry out of frustration or disappointment at some points in our lives? We don't because we know better, but 3-year-olds don't. In fact, I'm a little jealous of his freedom to let it all out!<br />
<br />
8. The "why" questions are really cute when it's someone else's kid. Most of the time I give him real answers. In fact, we discuss density almost every time he's in the pool because he asks me why things sink or float so often! Today I was frustrated and his "why?"s didn't have easy answers so I took the easy way out. It's not the end of the world. I'll answer them in the future I'm sure and all will be fine with his academic development.<br />
<br />
9. I know we don't scream in a library, but toddlers don't. That librarian could have noticed that I was saying, "Please don't scream, people are reading," while also REMOVING my son from the library. It's not like I was just letting him flail.... we were leaving. Plus, it's entirely possible the stank eye was a result of a crappy day on her end and I was just one more thing. It might not have been the personal attack I imagined it to be. Once he settled down in the car, we did talk about why we have to be quiet in libraries. Also, it was nearing nap time, he was tired, quite simply.<br />
<br />
10. So his lunch lacked fruits and veggies. Well, there's always dinner. I did make the pizza homemade (last night's leftovers) and I did make a whole wheat crust, so there's that. Also, the pizza had mushrooms on it and tomato sauce and those both count as vegetables. It also had ham so the meal wasn't an entire loss. He had a juice box and it was the 100% real juice organic kind so I'm going to call that a serving of fruit and be done with it.<br />
<br />
11. I always feel bad when I use a snappy, negative, or sarcastic tone with him. All I can do is own it and try not to do it again. Can't take it back, can't undo it, might as well just try to fix it for the future. And P.S., in the moment, I wasn't lying. I DID wish his dad was here!<br />
<br />
On paper these things don't seem that bad, but they were enough minor annoyances to put me in a fowl mood. While I don't have time to write a reflective blog post everyday I do think there is something to be said for taking a minute to replay a day or situation and force yourself to look at it from a positive perpective. Even if you end up with "sure I wanted to scream 'shut up' at my child, but I didn't." In my book, that's still a win!<br />
<br />
My advice? Take a break from blogs and pinterest and instead make a list of things you do well as a parents. I think we moms need to cut ourselves some slack. And at the end of the day, the very fact that you're worried about if you're a good parent, probably means that you are one! :)</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-34239304194269958712012-07-16T20:45:00.001-07:002012-07-16T20:45:12.055-07:00The Death of a Beautiful Butterfly<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last Tuesday, I woke up and discovered via facebook that one
of my former students had passed away the evening before in a car accident. The
death of anyone is obviously upsetting, but the death of a high school student,
just two months after graduation, is just unfair. Especially a young lady like
Zelena. Zelena just had a zest for life. All morning I was flooded with
memories of her because, quite simply, she was incredibly memorable. You couldn’t
have a single interaction with her that wasn’t fun, silly, sassy, or wild. She
was always smiling, always laughing, and always speaking what was on her mind.
She was barely over four feet tall, but packed an enormous personality. I had just seen her the night before at the
grocery store where she worked. I sat on the couch in disbelief. All I could
imagine was the cliché image of a candle being snuffed out. It felt that
abrupt.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Dylan
and I had planned a day at my parent’s so I pulled myself together as best I
could, loaded up the car, and hoped that the trip would be a distraction. As we walked out to the car, Dylan stopped in
the driveway and crouched down, “Mom, look a butterfly!” he exclaimed. I looked
and a somewhat smushed butterfly was, in fact, in the driveway. “Mom, that
butterfly is so beautiful,” Dylan added. And it was. It had vibrant blue spots
and its wings were spread out as if it would take flight any minute. Dylan is really in love with the word
beautiful lately. In fact, our last trip to the mall was filled with him exclaiming,
“Momma, this shirt is so beautiful” at every other clearance rack I drug him
to. So I paused only briefly to reply, “Yup, that’s a beautiful butterfly
alright,” before adding, “let’s go.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But he didn’t move. Instead he stood up,
looked me straight in the eye and said, “Mom, why that beautiful butterfly have
to die?” I’m not kidding. Those where his exact words. All I could picture was
Zelena and I said to him, “I don’t know. Good question though.” And I looked down at the butterfly myself. Dylan
stood, still waiting for a real answer so I said, “Maybe someone accidently
stepped on him or the car accidently smushed him.” Then I held back some tears,
scooped Dylan up, and buckled him in the car.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Just a
few minutes down the road Dylan said, “I’m sad that that beautiful butterfly
died.” I replied (speaking in full-on extended metaphor), “I know sweetie. Even
when it’s an accident it’s still sad when butterflies die.”</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
We ride
in silence and, again, I think of Zelena. I can’t picture her without imaging
her smile. I can’t remember an interaction when she wasn’t laughing. Dylan
interupts my thoughts and says, “Mom, maybe that beautiful butterfly go home?”
I struggle to not swerve off the road as I turn and look back at him. He is
sitting in his carseat staring straight at me with those big brown eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Now I
consider myself spiritual, but not necessarily religious. I certainly believe
that there is more to this world than I can understand and appreciate, but I
don’t follow a lot of religious doctrine. I don’t image God in a personified
form, more as an essence. I certainly think things sometimes do happen for a
reason and I do believe in karma, but I don’t generally believe in a humanistic
God sitting in the clouds sending us personalized messages. So I say to Dylan, “What
do you mean? Where is the butterfly’s home?” and he answers with some
indescernable toddler-speak, but finishes with the statement “and when he’s
home he’s so happy.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I have
no idea what I said in response. I can’t remember. I was crying and trying to
keep it together so that I could answer something like “yes, I think you’re
right.” I certainly can’t explain this conversation, but it was so touching
that I had to write it down to make sense of it and to reflect on it.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Two
days later I went to the funeral home and cried with Zelena’s friends and
family. I spent the week replaying memories in my head and hugging my son
whenever I could. I spent a little bit of time asking why and trying to deny
the reality of the situation, but mostly I tried to find comfort in the phrase “when
he’s home, he’s so happy.”</div>
</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-71096360998060490112012-06-09T11:18:00.002-07:002012-06-09T11:18:54.256-07:00Adventures in Beekeeping: Installing a Nuc<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Here are some pictures of the hive as well as an overview of some things we've learned about bees!<br />
<br />
On Saturday, June 2 we traveled to Fruitport to pick up our nucs. When you buy bees by the nuc you're buying five frames of bees and a queen. They've already built some comb, some brood, and a bit of honey. They come in a box like this:<br />
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So you take your box of new babies home, set them next to their hive and open the plug. They'll spill out and fly around getting the lay of the land:</div>
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If you ever have a chance to watch bees coming out of a hive, you'll notice that they come out they'll fly a figure eight before leaving, that's the bee setting is GPS, so to speak. Now that they've been here a while, we notice several fly straight out and away - they're experts! They'll always return to their queen so you don't have to worry about them flying off and never returning.</div>
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After an hour or two, you want to transfer the frames from the nuc box to your hive. You have to do this carefully so as not to smush any and so as not to jostle and lose the queen. No queen = no colony and that makes this $500 venture pointless. You don't want to smush bees because (1) you care about bees and (2) when one is injured/killed it inspires the others to begin stinging.</div>
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At this point, you're in the midst of around 10,000 bees! It's pretty amazing actually. The first time I did it it was exciting and terrifying and made for a definite adrenaline rush. I've been out four times in the past week and it is less terrifying, but still pretty intense!</div>
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Today my husband and I went out (he finally got a bee suit) and cleaned the hive up. They'll build comb over the tops of the frames and hanging down under and you have to scrap this off. This can then be made into candles, soap, lip balm, etc, but I have no idea how! ... yet!</div>
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In this picture (above) you can see a bit of comb that's been built underneath the frame (the frame is upside down in this picture). That's what needs to be scraped off.<div>
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You can't see it too well (above), but in the bottom of this comb (near Chris's thumb) are some shiny, wet cells that are being filled with honey!</div>
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Here's a better picture of excess comb that needs to be shaved off. You can't see it in the picture, but when you see the bees up close, some have bright yellow legs because they are full of pollen! So cute!</div>
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<i>Other things that you're looking for:</i></div>
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- When you look at your comb you're looking for brood (babies) so that you know your queen is alive and well. These look like tiny will curled up white caterpillars - also super cute!</div>
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- You're also always looking for the queen. We haven't seen ours yet, but we have lots of brood so we know she's in there. The queen has a "court" of 10 bees who stay with her (around and on top of her) which makes it hard to find her. These workers bring food to her. The food that the queen eats is called royal jelly... haha. The queen lays all the eggs and secretes a pheromone that keeps the other females sterile - now that's power!</div>
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- We're still trying to figure out who's who. The hive is made up of the queen, the workers (also females), and the drones (males).</div>
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- Drones are male bees whose only job is to mate and then die (sorry guys). In fact, they don't even have stingers so they can't even defend the colony. In the winter, the workers will keep the drones from entering the hive (which means they'll starve to death) so that the workers can save the precious honey for their own survival.</div>
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- The worker bees are crazy busy. They tend to the queen and larvae, build the comb, clean the comb, collect pollen and nectar, produce the honey, defend the colony, and even clean up and remove the dead. They also decide when the hive is too crowded and then they swarm and leave (something we would NOT like to happen).</div>
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<i>Why raise bees?</i></div>
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We might get honey in a year or two, but this isn't our primary reason for raising bees. They are fascinating and incredibly important to our survival as a species so we're doing it mostly for a hobby. We might collect comb and do something with that.</div>
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You can also make money in bee world by taking your bees to fields to pollinate, building and sell bee boxes, raising and selling nucs and queens. Right now, we're just trying to keep them alive!</div>
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Oh, the fashion is also a bonus:</div>
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</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-30497956792736064232012-05-03T05:34:00.000-07:002012-05-03T06:32:46.030-07:00How Much Food Does one Woman Need?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
There is a student of mine who I have gotten to know pretty well over the years. Let's call her Ashley. She has a sketchy home life. A good relationship with her mom, but Mom makes poor choice in men. As a result, more drinking and drug-use goes on in Ashley's house than she would like her little brother and sister to see. Ashley has taken it upon herself to look after the younger siblings and, while I really do think her mom means well by her kids, she continues to make bad choices. She recently married the very man who prompted a CPS call from a relative because he was stealing Ashley's aderol. Last summer, Ashley accompanied my son and I to the zoo one afternoon and chattered the whole way home about drug use, arguments, and shut-off notices with the same ease that I would discuss what I'm having for dinner. She a very sweet girl, however, who struggles with her school work and has low self-esteem as a result.<br />
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Last week she informed me that her step dad (who was recently released from jail) was probably going back soon because he had failed a drug test. On Monday she mentioned the he was in fact in jail and had taken their new food stamps card with him. On Tuesday she told me that her mom went to the jail to get the card, but it was missing. I said, "how are you guys on food?" she responded, "I mean, things are bad, but we've been through a lot worse so don't worry Mrs. Villarreal."<br />
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On Wednesday she stayed after school for a club I run and had arranged for me to give her a ride home. On the ride home, we were talking about how hungry we are (lunch at a high school is at 10:30) and I said, "We need to eat up leftover chicken salad, but I'm not really in the mood for it." She says, "Oh man that sounds SOO good! I love chicken salad." We chat a bit more and she tells me that last night she didn't eat any dinner because there wasn't enough to go around. She told her mom and siblings to eat first (her mom because "you know, she's nursing so she has to eat" and her siblings because she always puts them before herself.) She had eaten lunch (thank goodness for the free/reduced lunch program), but her prospects of dinner weren't looking good. She kept saying, "we'll figure something out." So I told her we were going to stop at my house (on the way to her house) and I would make her a chicken salad sandwich. Well I ended up giving her the container of salad that was left and then when she said, "Alright, dinner for me!" I started thinking about the other kids in her household. We went out into the garage because she wanted to see our chicks and while we were out there I said, "I can give you a chicken to take home. Does your mom ever make roast chicken?" Her eyes lit up, "yes! we love chicken!" So I go over to the deep freezer, open it up, she peers into it and says, "Holy crap, this whole thing is full of food?"<br />
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At that moment I suddenly looked at that freezer from her point of view. That freezer that I have opened and closed 100 times in the past month. That freezer that I have rummaged in and dumped bags of fruit in. That freezer that I have stood over, countless times, staring in while saying, "What do you want for dinner?" or worse "Nothing sounds good." I thought suddenly of my kitchen cupboards, full of canned goods, pastas of varying shapes and sizes, granola bars, goldfish crackers, hell, I have 4 different kinds of vinegars! I have a spice rack and an entire cupboard devoted to my overflow spices. I have a special tupperware that contains all my cake decorating tools. And my refrigerator? Always needing to be cleaned out and always full of dressing, sauces, veggies, and leftovers. My whole kitchen is full of food. I felt embarrassed. I felt gluttonous. I felt guilty.<br />
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Go I grabbed a bag and started grocery shopping. I sent her home with a roaster, a couple pounds of ground beef, some noodles, soup, etc. I kept assuring her "don't worry, we have more food than we need," but I this was really just my inner voice speaking out loud.<br />
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While I am aware that I have never gone hungry and am thankful for having lived a life so free from want, this experience really made me internalize what it would mean to be hungry. I couldn't imagine, as a child, coming home from school and not going straight to the refrigerator for a snack. I couldn't imagine an evening without dinner. My entire life, dinner has been the mainstay of the evening. If it wasn't for dinner prep, dinner table conversations, and then clean up, what would I do with myself all evening long? So much of my life revolves around meals and I've never once had to go without one. <br />
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Over my eight years of teaching I have known so many kids and heard so many different life stories. I think we really do take for granted where people come from. Ashley is a smiling, jovial girl who goes home to chaos most days, but you'd never know to look at her. In some ways, kids like Ashley are inspiring. They speak to the resiliency of the human spirit, but mostly I find these stories depressing. This is America and in 2012, surely we should be doing better by our kids by now. Ashley's mom is loving and once Ashley complained to me that her mom never buys junk food. She makes strategic choices to extend the life of her food cards: roasts, bags of potatoes, canned goods, spaghetti. She is also working on her degree, little by little, as time and money allow. She's doing the best she can and attempting to eek out some version of the American dream. Certainly she could make better choices in some cases, but poverty is cyclical and it's all Ashely's mom has ever known. <br />
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In the end, I feel inspired and thankful that I was able to help one student out, but I also feel overwhelmed knowing that Ashley is just one of millions of kids who won't eat dinner tonight.</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-23319327791629432722012-04-20T11:26:00.000-07:002012-04-20T11:26:27.338-07:00The Problem with Organics<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So the last time I wrote it was to promote organic food. I do 100% support buying and eating organic food, but as we get closer to growing and farmers market season, I can’t help, but think about fresh, healthy produce. The problem with organic food is that has become so profitable that corporate farms are trying to get in on the act. Or, once small farms are growing to such a point that the “hand-picked” philosophy is being replaced with farm machinery and chlorine baths. In addition, the labeling of food in this country is pretty ambiguous.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><u><b>Here is an overview of a few of my concerns regarding large-scale “organic” fruit and vegetable operations:</b></u></div><ul><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Large organic farms might not be using pesticides, but they aren’t always taking care to preserve soil quality. And soil quality is not entirely infinite.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Large fruit and veggie farms rely on heavy machines to pick and wash produce. These machines are running on fossil fuels.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Organic food is being shipped all over the world. It’s great to buy organic tomatoes, but if they were grown in California, a lot of fossil fuels were used to get those pesticide-free maters to your plate.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Also, organic produce from outside of the United States does not necessarily follow U.S. Regulations. Investigative reporting have uncovered some questionable practices in Mexico.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The organic label does not require the growers to be hippies. By this I mean, we tend to associate the organic label with backyard farmers, but many of these large companies are exactly that, large companies. In the case of tomatoes, human rights issues are a major concern.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Let’s talk about organic baby carrots: these are mis-shapen carrot nubbins that are whittled down into a cute and uniform shape. Organic? Maybe, but also wasteful.</div></li>
</ul><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><u><b>Here is an overview of a few of my concerns regarding large-scale meat and poultry production:</b></u></div><ul><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Organic cows may be fed organic corn, but corn is not part of a cow’s natural diet. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Organic chicken and poultry is not necessarily “free range.” So a cow or chicken who is eating corn and not getting antibiotics or hormones may still be raised in deplorable conditions.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Free range” is an ambiguous label as well. In regards to beef, there are no legal standards governing what this means so if you buy beef labeled “free range,” the wording could really mean anything. In regards to poultry, a chicken must simply have “access” to the outside and there are no specifications about the size or quality of this outdoor space. It could be soft, lush grass, it could be mud, gravel, or cement. In addition, it could be a small paddock attached to a huge warehouse full of birds. Further, if a producer allows birds access to the outside for only 2 weeks of their lives (say before butcher) they can still count this as “free range.” There are no regulations regarding free range eggs. So, in this case, it’s similar to beef and pork.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Cage free” poultry means that birds can be packed into a warehouse-like building so long as they aren’t confined to cages. Example:</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><img src="http://www.sciencephoto.com/image/178551/large/E7640690-Turkey_breeding_farm-SPL.jpg" /> </div></li>
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><u><b>Here is an overview of a few of my concerns regarding processed foods:</b></u></div><ul><li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">An “organic” label doesn’t necessarily mean healthy. There is such a thing as organic high fructose corn syrup.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Many processed foods feature the claim of “all-natural.” It is possible to begin with a natural product (like a cocoa plant) and then, through processing, yield an unhealthy or harmful product (like cocain). The same is true of MSG and high fructose corn syrup. These are “technically” natural products, but they are not healthy. Salt is another example of a natural ingredient that could be hiding in your food without your knowledge (or in a surprisingly large quantity).</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“100% Organic” (a label you’ll rarely see) means that all ingredients are organic and the product contains NO synthetic ingredients.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">A product can have the “organic” label if 95% of it’s ingredients are organic. The remaining 5% can be synthetic, non-organic, or genetically-modified.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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<li><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">“Made with Organic Ingredients” means that 70% of the product must contain organic ingredients. The remaining 30% can be synthetic, non-organic, or genetically-modified.</div></li>
</ul><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>Holy Crap. What’s a consumer to do?</b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I know, right?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The solution is buying local and seasonal. It means giving up strawberries in winter and seeking out local beef, pork and poultry farmers. It might mean planting a few of your own tomato plants. It means learning how to can, freeze, and dry or raising a few hens for eggs. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This is the ideal.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><b>What’s a REAL person to do? </b></div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Here’s what I do (and I am, by no means, the gold standard). I buy beef and pork from local farmers. I ask them about antibiotics, hormones, and pasture time. I buy a quarter at a time and keep it in my freezer. I raise my own chickens for poultry and eggs. In the summer I try and do most of my grocery shopping on Saturday mornings at the farmers market or from road-side produce stands. I ask questions about farm-size and pesticide use. I also grow my own garden. I grow (so far): potatoes, onions, carrots, lettuce/spinach, tomatoes, peppers, cukes, zukes, beans, swiss chard, and pumpkins in roughly an 8x12 chunk of land. I can, dry, and freeze in an attempt to preserve the bounty!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Honestly, if given the choice I’d choose local meat and produce over store-bought organic any day. It’s fresher (and therefore more nutritious) and it supports farmers in my own community.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">But in the winter?</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I grocery shop. I try and use up what I have first, but I inevitably want a salad in December and an avocado to go with my tacos. I’m not perfect, but I do make the attempt to buy organic when I can because, even though the system isn’t perfect, I want to support it in hopes that it will change.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In addition, I write letters to congressmen, sign petitions, and go to meetings about legislation that affects food labeling, because that’s the only way things are ever going to get any better.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
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</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><u>Sources</u><br />
<a href="http://www.fsis.usda.gov/home/index.asp">http://www.fsis.usda.gov/home/index.asp</a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://michaelpollan.com/books/the-omnivores-dilemma/">http://michaelpollan.com/books/the-omnivores-dilemma/</a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://trusted.md/blog/vreni_gurd/2008/11/22/the_problem_with_organic_food#axzz1sbSDPu00">http://trusted.md/blog/vreni_gurd/2008/11/22/the_problem_with_organic_food#axzz1sbSDPu00</a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://healthwyze.org/index.php/deceptive-organic-and-all-natural-food-labeling.html">http://healthwyze.org/index.php/deceptive-organic-and-all-natural-food-labeling.html</a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://politicsoftheplate.com/?page_id=831">http://politicsoftheplate.com/?page_id=831</a> </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><a href="http://politicsoftheplate.com/">http://politicsoftheplate.com/</a> </div></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-48691166102168502242012-03-22T19:14:00.000-07:002012-03-22T19:14:29.160-07:00An Intro to Beekeeping<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">For the past few years, the hub-cake and I have been interested in raising bees. We've watched/read several things about Colony Collapse Disorder and the mysterious disappearance of honeybees in general and have always felt that one way to "give back" (even in a tiny way) would be to raise some bees. It would be great to get some honey, but our main purpose is similar to the reason why you put a bird feeder out. You want to help nature in some small way and it is interesting to watch different birds flit and fly around your backyard. Lately I've been reading more about the biology of bees and just how those bee hives work on the inside and it's pretty addicting stuff. Bees are insanely fascinating. They have such specialized and important jobs and every little detail is attended to within a hive. They are, however, fairly fragile. A poorly producing queen can throw a wrench in the works, too many drones, not enough drones, a bad year for flowers, a tough winter, a wet summer, and many other variables can all affect the health of a single colony. One faulty "part" and the whole thing may fall apart.</span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqN4ZqYRFZlzsMx4nGQx11K2MLxzaxGKZ4SmzRluUmaiF93bXxUNsBVAbq0W_k-_zS4tVT28aS9V-G1l7xU6QPNnshgzRipwl-tNo58a-UD3TlkJ5HjlOB3kbqSL8Y5fyduT4VVbgJUpg/s1600/honey-bee-cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image Detail" border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqN4ZqYRFZlzsMx4nGQx11K2MLxzaxGKZ4SmzRluUmaiF93bXxUNsBVAbq0W_k-_zS4tVT28aS9V-G1l7xU6QPNnshgzRipwl-tNo58a-UD3TlkJ5HjlOB3kbqSL8Y5fyduT4VVbgJUpg/s200/honey-bee-cropped.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here are some bee fun facts:</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Bees pollinate about 1/3 of our food supply (just one reason why you should not consider this venture crazy)</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Honey bees can travel up to two miles away from their hive while collecting pollen.</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Honey bees navigate with an internal "GPS" similar to that of birds (they work like magnets)</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Honey bees are cold blooded and can handle weather fluctuations pretty well.</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Bees survive the winter by eating the honey they've stored. If they have a good summer, they'll produce excess honey (which we can then harvest and eat!)</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- Changing queens will change the personality and routine of the hive (just as it would in a human society)</span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">- <span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">A colony of bees consists of 20,000-60,000 honeybees and one queen. Worker honey bees are female, live for about 6 weeks and do all the work. Males are for mating and, unfortunately, are prone to mites.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">Okay someday I might write a post about all of the different roles bees fill in the hive. It's absolutely amazing. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">Well Chris and I went to bee school and spent the first hour feeling completely overwhelmed and staring blankly at the power point in front of us. Actually, I can only speak for myself. It's entirely possible Chris was not as confused as me... but I doubt it. Then a second speaker came up and began his presentations with "Getting Stung." Ah yes, this is more my pace! Long story short, bees are a tricky business and they might just die the very first winter. This wouldn't be such a big deal if a pack of bees wasn't $80-$120. That is an investment I can make once (after a month of saving), but not one I'd like to make year after year. And they recommend you start with two colonies!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">When purchasing bees, you have two choices: packages or nucs. Packages come from Florida or Alabama and run about $80. If you order a package you get 3 pounds (about 10,000) bees delivered to your door! This includes a queen as well. Then you dump them in the bee box and hope they all figure out what to do. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">Nucs are colonies that are already beginning. You get the comb already attached to some frames, the bees have already stored some honey, and integrated the queen. These you'd buy locally so they are climatized and also run $120.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">Professional beekeepers say that you can be equally successful, but I feel like the nucs sound like a better option. They cost a bit more, but to me it seems smarter to start with a partially formed colony. So that's what we ordered and we pick them up mid-May!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">You also need a bee box. There are many parts to a bee box:</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><img alt="Image Detail" height="320" src="http://www.voiceofthehive.com/Pictures/BeeEquipmentDetails.png" width="320" /> <span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">Bees build their colonies up so the longer the colony survives the more boxes you would stack on top. The very bottom one is where the bees are and the one above is where they store honey. Any additional boxes above that are surplus honey. If you take too much honey then you have to offer the bees supplemental food throughout the winter. Phew... but that's not all! if you want liquid honey you have to buy (or access) an extractor (they run about $200-$300). You can do it the old-fashioned way, but one of my co-workers has an extractor and said she would share it!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">There are things like bee veils and smokers to keep from getting stung, but I have a feeling that bee sting posts will exist in my future!</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px; text-align: center;">This is seriously only the beginning. Who would have thought it would "bee" so complicated? (I had to work in one bee joke!). I'm really excited to start and a little nervous. And while this post makes it sound like I know a lot about bees, I assure you that when they arrive I will put them in the box and then go, "holy shit, now what?"</span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 22px;"><br />
</span></span></div></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-47783969955140412302012-03-19T18:15:00.002-07:002012-03-19T18:30:33.820-07:00Why Organic?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on"><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">A friend of mine recently asked me to help her come up with some "pro-organic" arguments that she could use to persuade her husband that organic food was worth the extra cost. The more I thought about my answer, the more I felt that a blog post was waiting to be hatched! Short answer to why I eat organic? It's safer, it preserves the environment, sustains soil quality, is safer for the farm workers, it's more nutritious, and the food generally tastes better.</div><br />
To me, choosing organic is demanding quality and freshness. Throughout the time I have spent reading, writing, talking, and campaigning about the food industry, I can tell you the most common response from people is something along the line of "what I don't know, can't hurt me." And I would argue that what you don't know IS hurting you. This country is fat and sick and, while we spend thousands of dollars searching for cures, maybe we should consider the causes. We eat multiple times a day and the average person consumes food from fields and factories in this country as well as around the world. We are eating food (including produce) that is full of chemicals, preservatives, additives, dyes, artificial flavors and colors, etc. We are eating meat and drinking milk full of antibiotics and hormones from animals raise in inhumane and unsanitary conditions. Our food (meat, fruits, and veggies) is washed in bleach or ammonia and is coated with waxes and ripening agents. Packaged and processed foods have all of these chemicals as well and also high fructose corn syrup which, even if it is as safe as sugar (it's not), is hidden in so many things that even when you try and eat healthy, you are consuming tons of this sweetener (which is making you fat, by the way).<br />
<br />
We're passing these habits on to our kids by feeding them convenience foods, packaged treats, and snacks that are dyed all colors of the rainbow. It's no wonder we have cancer, depression, anxiety, obesity, autism, and ADD. We hardly eat any REAL food. I'm tired of being labeled at the lunch table because I make food from scratch and don't feed my son oreos. I work full time and so does my husband, so if we can make time to sit down to home cooked meals every night - then so can you. It's all about priorities. In addition, I'm a teacher and my husband is a builder in the middle of a housing crisis, so if we can afford to add organic foods to the cart, then so can you. Again, it's all about priorities.<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5iWXU-KSDBr8GS4qr2800nP89QzwqbndG-axsTWZagj1k6mQhjr3BCrckq8aY2JLLbqJHTqZ0YF6BdODurb8-erLfrWrbopvF4edxQ1xk97RYBw0tjYS-at-36DAOK0pFZ83zafIeYrQ/s1600/399002_2800542853438_1254547504_32188313_315822395_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY5iWXU-KSDBr8GS4qr2800nP89QzwqbndG-axsTWZagj1k6mQhjr3BCrckq8aY2JLLbqJHTqZ0YF6BdODurb8-erLfrWrbopvF4edxQ1xk97RYBw0tjYS-at-36DAOK0pFZ83zafIeYrQ/s320/399002_2800542853438_1254547504_32188313_315822395_n.jpg" width="211" /></a><br />
Okay, rant over. The point of this post was to explain why eating organic is good. Rather than summarize other people's brilliance, I thought I'd just point you in the direction of some useful links.<br />
<br />
Why eat organic?<br />
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<b>1. It's safer. </b><br />
Check out the <span style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">Environmental Working Group's <a href="http://www.ewg.org/foodnews/" target="_blank">annual report</a> as well as the<a href="http://www.panna.org/" target="_blank"> Pesticide Action Network's</a> studies. There's real proof that pesticide residue is showing up in our bodies. And there's growing evidence that this is not a good thing.</span><br />
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<b>2. It's More Nutritious.</b> <a href="http://ecochildsplay.com/2012/03/15/organic-vs-conventional-is-the-proof-is-in-the-nutrition/" target="_blank">(read)</a><br />
This point has been argued for some time. There are now valid studies that prove that organic food does contain more nutrients that conventional produce, but the relationship isn't causal. Produce that is grown organically is generally grown in more natural conditions, often by farmers who use sustainable practices. This means healthier soil and healthier soil means more nutrients in your produce. Also, organic fruits and veggies are not sprayed with ripening agents or preservatives, so they have to be picked closer to their natural ripeness - which means more nutrients for you. Non-organic produce like bananas and tomatoes, are picked while still raw, then sprayed in a warehouse with a ripening chemical. This changes the color, but does not enhance the flavor. That's why a store-bought tomato can't hold a match to a fresh, just picked 'mater out of your garden.<br />
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<b>3. It's Better for the Environment and Humanity</b><br />
I don't need 100 links to prove that spraying chemicals has an affect on the environment. Pesticide residue pollutes lakes, streams, and rivers and adversely affects natural species (everything from deer to fish to bees). In addition, many large corporate growers are showering the plants and employees with dangerous chemicals and affected families are having a hard time fighting the corporate giants. In addition, the variety of food in this country is dwindling. We are literally putting all of our eggs in one basket when we let heirloom seeds go extinct so that Monsanto and Cargill can hold patents on 5-10 species of corn. <a href="http://ngm.nationalgeographic.com/2011/07/food-ark/food-variety-graphic" target="_blank">(check out this graphic)</a> We haven't even touched on terminator seeds, foreign seed policies, and genetically modified organisms (GMOs) - another post maybe.<br />
<br />
<b>So Why Does it Cost More? </b><br />
Short answer? Less insecticide/fungicide/weed killer means more crop fatality which means loss to the farmer. In addition, more weeds means more manual labor for the farm crew as well. Organic foods cost a bit more because they take a little more time and care to grow.<br />
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There are also fertilizer differences.<br />
<span style="background-color: #ffffcc; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 18px; text-align: -webkit-auto;">Some of the things organic farmers can't use that conventional farmers can: Sewage sludge, which is cheap to buy, and chemical fertilizers, which are both cheap to buy and cheap to transport. Instead, organic farmers fertilize their land with compost and animal manure, which is bulkier and more expensive to ship..." </span>(<a href="http://www.organicconsumers.org/organic/costsmore082405.cfm" target="_blank">read more</a>)<br />
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<b>Where to Start</b><br />
<div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;">If you can't/don't want to make a commitment to filling your grocery cart with organics, then I would urge you to start with The Dirty Dozen. So named by The Environmental Working Group which issues an annual report about pesticide use and presence in American produce. (You can check it out <a href="http://www.ewg.org/foodnews/summary/" target="_blank">here</a>) The Dirty Dozen are the 12 most contaminated fruits and vegetab<span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">les. They include: <b>apples, celery, strawberries, peaches, spinach, imported nectarines, imported grapes, bell peppers, potatoes, domestic blueberries, lettuce, and kale/collard greens. </b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">Produce that you should not lose sleep over are: onions, sweet corn, pineapples, avocado, asparagus, peas, mangoes, eggplants, domestic cantaloupe, kiwi, cabbage, watermelon, sweet potatoes, grapefruit, and mushrooms.</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;"><br />
</span></span></div><div style="text-align: -webkit-auto;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="line-height: 20px;">More great links to check out: </span></span><a href="http://www.organicconsumers.org/organlink.cfm" style="text-align: left;">http://www.organicconsumers.org/organlink.cfm</a><br />
<a href="http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/">http://www.foodandwaterwatch.org/</a> </div></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-78386800045438947462012-02-17T11:29:00.001-08:002012-02-17T11:29:20.751-08:00On Having the Crud<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I’ve been lucky, blessed if you will, with a child with an incredible immune system. I like to think it was the months of breastfeeding, where I supplied him with all my super-human teacher antibodies, but it’s probably just luck of the draw. (By the way, I also took the credit for his 100% hearing ability when they did the test directly after his birth. I chalked that one up to months of prenatal vitamins and organic chicken). Well anyway, he’s had few very minor bugs, but this week is really the first week he has been down and out sick for several days. Thankfully this bug didn’t involve barfing, but it did include a whopping fever, a phlegmy cough, a lack of appetite, an increase in whining that escalated to crying and then screaming, and (in between crying fits) a listless child who wanted to do nothing but lay on the couch and watch Mickey’s Clubhouse. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">The first day I worried about his TV consumption; everyday after that was simply survival. By the second day of no eating I was willing to feed the kid hot dogs and velveeta til the cows came home if it meant real substance. In addition, any rules about pacifiers and sleeping in bed with mom and dad? Out the window. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">He really was fine. It was a bad cold that turned into an ear infection, but it really makes me question some of my values (of course it does, you’re thinking, you make mountains out of molehills and favor overused phrases!). Well I don’t like the idea of antibiotics and dose after dose of artificially-flavored Tylenol. I also don’t like to see my baby watch hours and hours of TV or cry “Miiiickeeeey!” in the middle of the night. But when you, as a parent, have reached your max, it becomes (as I mentioned earlier) SURVIVAL.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My husband had the bug a week earlier and was still erupting in coughing fits every couple minutes (including all night long) and I, because of those amazing antibodies, had convinced myself that I was going to be fine (despite the dozens of times when Dylan coughed directly into my sleeping face at 3am). But by Wednesday, even I felt like crud. So here we are: all three of us in bed at 7:00, feverish, glassy-eyed, watching Mickey’s Clubhouse, taking turns coughing like some sort of out-of-sync orchestra. It wasn’t pretty. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I juiced the hell out of some oranges and lemons because I really believed that that vitamin C would help us. I made Chris experiment with Vick’s on the bottoms of his feet to see it would help the cough. I actually tried to convince him to experiment with several different holistic treatments that I found online, but the Vicks was the only one he would entertain. In the end, however, Chris indulged in Nyquil and the doctor prescribed an antibiotic for Dylan. I tried to integrate tea into my coffee-laden life, but in the end, what I really want is a handful of ibuprofen and a bottle of Nyquil. By my 4<sup>th</sup> hour class today I had only a squeak of a voice left and while the kids thought it was hilarious to hear me attempt to speak, I instead showed an episode of Modern Family and called it a day. And, while I don’t feel nearly as sick as I sound, I am exhausted. Exhausted from being up with Dylan all night this week, from waking up to cough, and from waking up when Chris coughs. My plan is to leave work immediately at 2:30 and rush home to take an hour nap so that I can pick Dylan up from daycare by 4:00. I’ll probably give in and take some drugs too.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I write this only to say to the dozens of people who have posted “feel crappy” as facebook statuses in the last week – I FEEL YOUR PAIN! And also to remind myself mostly that this quest for eating healthy, living healthy, and being healthy is bound to have a few setbacks along the way.</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-50824574596444016462012-01-23T10:54:00.000-08:002012-01-23T10:54:13.524-08:00My 30th Year<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I turned 30 in October and there has been something about this “thirtieth year” that has been different. In the past I have resolved to work out, eat healthier, lose a few pounds and for some reason, right around my 30<sup>th</sup> birthday, things just started to click. For years my parents have told me to work out and eat right for the health benefits, not for weight loss, but as every woman who has ever wanted to wear a bathing suit knows, results are ALL that matter! My general pattern was: something would put the idea in my head that I needed to shape up (a hot tub party, a tight-fitting dress, jean shopping, etc). So I would resolve to eat healthy and exercise. I do this for a day or two and, when my pants still fit just as snuggly as they did the day before, I’d give up. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">My “excercise” plans have ranged from walking to running to biking. Past plans have included workout DVD’s and circuits I cut out of health magazines. Once I joined a really expensive gym. Nothing ever stuck. I generally don’t like to work out. I like to do physical things, but not when the point of the physical thing is weight loss. I like to swim, I like to play sports, I like to walk when the purpose is sight-seeing, and I never enjoy running. Ever.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">So a little before my 30<sup>th</sup> birthday I joined a gym. It’s not a fancy one and not terribly expensive. I had to sign a contract, which I know is a horrible thing, but I felt like I should be able to committ myself to working out. I pay $25/month and I figured that if I went 5 times a month, then it was worth it. I didn’t go into this experience with any illusions of grandeur. Just go to the gym from time to time. Thankfully, I’ve discovered zumba. Zumba burns a ton of calories and doesn’t feel like exercise at all. Don’t get me wrong. It feels like hot, sweaty, can barely breathe work – but not exercise. I actually look forward to zumba! Also, when I'm in a bad mood, stressed out, cranky, I now find myself CRAVING a trip to the gym.... seriously... I've never experienced such a thing before...</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Eating healthy wasn’t too big of a leap because we already don’t eat too bad. I did Weight Watchers for a month or so with a co-worker and what I learned the most from that system was portion control (no you do not need to have two rolls with that meal, heck, you don’t even need to have ONE roll!) and respect for the little things. While on WW I got 29 points a day. Suddenly a tablespoon of butter or oil (1 point) feels like a lot, especially when I've grown to be quite liberal with the oils and butters! A mindless snack might be 5-10 points – that’s a lot! So it helped me put my day in perspective. Someone brought in donuts at work and I just couldn’t refuse, ok, well don’t feel guilty, just have a light dinner or hit the gym after work. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Now on to my newest piece of craziness. The hubs and I watch a lot of documentaries as you probably won’t be surprised to hear. Several of them have included or featured, in some way, the effect of juicing. We’ve talked about buying a juicer for a while and over Christmas break we finally did (a $100 purchase is a big deal in our household). So far, we love it. So far, we’ve made fruit juices. So far, we’ve only used the juice to supplement our diet.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Until today.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">This weekend we decided to make a real honest effort at a juice detox of some sort. After reading and reading we settled on a modified diet. We will replace two meals a day and all snacks with juice or raw fruits and veggies and eat good, healthy dinners.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Today was Day One.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Breakfast was a “Morning Energizer” which included parsley, carrot, and apple. It tasted mostly like parsley, but was drinkable and got me through the morning.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Mid-Morning Snack was “Cantaloupe Cooler” which is cantaloupe and strawberries. Better than parsley!</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Lunch was a veggie salad with a little bit of the Cantaloupe Cooler as my dressing. Not awful, but I made the mistake of including mushrooms and let’s just say that mushrooms and Cantaloupe Cooler are not a good mix.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">In addition I’ve been drinking water with lemon in it and I brought a banana that I waited until the very last minute to enjoy (which is now). </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I’m not a chugger of beverages, especially these types of beverages so they last me quite a while just sipping on them.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">After School Snack is a "Watermelon Spritzer" which contains watermelon, strawberries and sparkling water.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">Before committing to this plan, I had already defrosted a pot pie that I made and froze a while back so that's what we'll be having for dinner.</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">How do I feel? Crappy. All the juicing info says that at first you might feel groggy (check), tired (check), and experience headaches (check). I’m not, however, hungry, which is kind of a surprise. And I felt fine all morning. The grogginess just hit me this afternoon. I’m also a pretty serious coffee drinker so the headache may be caffeine withdrawl. </div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;"><br />
</div><div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">I do think, if nothing else, this will give me an appreciation for dinner. All day I’ve been dreaming about the from-scratch, pot pie that I have at home, ready to be thrown in the oven. I also savored a banana, alone in my classroom during my planning, as a near spiritual event. Mmmm... solid food....</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-65144082566219513382011-12-25T19:05:00.000-08:002011-12-25T19:05:56.727-08:00To Be a Toddler at Christmas<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qZoDBuXHoys/TvfjFqYMvAI/AAAAAAAAAKI/zKYy7t6r6JU/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qZoDBuXHoys/TvfjFqYMvAI/AAAAAAAAAKI/zKYy7t6r6JU/s320/004.JPG" width="240" /></a>Ah, to be a toddler on Christmas day. I know what I'm about to say is not terribly original, but I find it's always nice to be reminded of the simple things. For better or for worse, the life of a toddler is pretty black and white. They are generally content or furious, happy or screaming, awake or dead-to-the-world asleep. As a parent, this strict dichotomy is very frustrating, especially when things fall into "the gray area." Examples of "the gray area:"</div><br />
I say... "Yes you can have a snack, after we change your diaper."<br />
Dylan hears... "NO snack, horrible diaper torture begins NOW."<br />
<br />
I say... "We can't go outside because it's pouring rain."<br />
Dylan hears..."NO, your dreams mean nothing to me."<br />
<br />
I say... "Sit in timeout because we don't hit."<br />
Dylan hears... "NO hitting, sit here for reasons that make no logical sense."<br />
<br />
I say... "It's time for bed."<br />
Dylan hears..."NO more fun today!"<br />
<br />
Anyway, these frustrating mis-communications aside, sometimes it's nice when toddlers only have a one-dimensional grasp of things, especially at Christmas-time. Presents are just fun. Relatives are just new people to play with. Family dinner means lots of cookies for dessert. Long car rides mean extra napping. A blizzard means more snowmen to build. And that's it. No family baggage, no complaining, no stressing about money or about who to buy what for. No worrying that the ham will be dry. No playing politics at family gatherings... just fun. Toddlers just look at the world as one giant plaything and nothing else matters. And they take this idea of play very seriously. Toddlers are able to pack so much energy, excitement, and passion into every moment, it's no wonder they sleep like rocks and fall asleep in positions that would make even a yoga master cringe. No wasted time in toddler world!<br />
<br />
Certainly adults must do adult things and occasionally worry about adult issues, but if I could just remember to get a little more toddler back into my mindset then things would be a little less stressful and a lot more fun!<br />
<br />
<b>Wondering where to start? Here are some things that rock Dylan's world:</b><br />
<b><br />
</b><br />
1. Riding a bike while saying "vroom, vroom, VROOM!" all the while.<br />
2. Playing peek-a-boo anywhere with anything.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7r0x8yBGz4/Tvfjjdk4F9I/AAAAAAAAAKU/dsMLarSl5PI/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-A7r0x8yBGz4/Tvfjjdk4F9I/AAAAAAAAAKU/dsMLarSl5PI/s320/001.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>3. Laying on the floor next to the dog so that when his tail wags it tickles his face. <br />
4. Pulling up his shirt to expose his belly and then demanding a raspberry kiss.<br />
5. Jumping: off of things, on to things, over things, etc<br />
6. Tickling and being tickled.<br />
7. Draping a blanket over his head and then spinning around.<br />
8. Spinning around in general.<br />
9. Hiding underneath pillows<br />
10. Licking his finger and then "drawing" on the window.<br />
11. Licking his arm.<br />
12. Licking in general (we're really into saliva these days)<br />
13. Farting<br />
14. Stirring a little bit of flour in a large mixing bowl using a whisk.<br />
15. Batting ornaments off the tree.<br />
16. Lining up a series of toys on the dog's back, while the poor dog is sleeping.<br />
17. Running about in fits of hyperactive hysteria.<br />
18. Screaming, screeching, barking, yipping, you get the idea.<br />
19. Building towers then battering them down with a hand, another object, or a bike.<br />
15. Asking often for hugs and kisses.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5jkzoz2NMjQ/TvfkBs9h9DI/AAAAAAAAAKg/gY0uaUn-hbg/s1600/016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5jkzoz2NMjQ/TvfkBs9h9DI/AAAAAAAAAKg/gY0uaUn-hbg/s320/016.JPG" width="240" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i>the aftermath</i></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-1613652961590332942011-12-18T16:14:00.001-08:002011-12-18T16:18:23.009-08:00Chicken Nuggets that Feature... Chicken!Anyone who has spent more than five minutes with me (or read my facebook), knows that, eventually, the conversation will probably revolve around something food-related. One surprising topic that I discuss frequently (especially with teenagers and other moms) is that of chicken nuggets. Many seem to believe that chicken nuggets are a childhood-making culinary delight. When people find out that my son doesn't eat store-bought chicken nuggets (especially those from fast food resturants) they usually recoil with disgust and ask "why?" in a tone that can only suggest that they are really thinking, "I'm asking 'why' to be nice, but I really want to report you to CPS for your role as 'worst mother ever.'"<br />
<div><br />
</div><div>Growing up I ate a lot of chicken nuggets. In fact, I still do enjoy chicken strips from time to time, but there is a difference between a nugget and a strip. While strips are deep fried and that's awful in its own right, nuggets are a creation that is almost not even a food product. In order to create a nugget that can be mass-produced, manufacturers combine ground chicken parts with all sorts of chemicals and preservatives. Some brands are better than others, but let's take McDonalds for example. Here is the ingredient list from mcdonalds.com (compare and contrast to my recipe below):</div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i>Chicken, water, salt, modified corn starch, sodium phosphates, chicken broth powder (chicken broth, salt, and natural flavoring (chicken source)), seasoning (vegetable oil, extracts of rosemary, mono, di- and triglycerides, lecithin). Battered and breaded with water, enriched bleached wheat flour (niacin, iron, thiamine mononitrate, riboflavin, folic acid), yellow corn flour, bleached wheat flour, modified corn starch, salt, leavening (baking soda, sodium acid pyrophosphate, sodium aluminum phosphate, monocalcium phosphate, calcium lactate), spices, wheat starch, dried whey, corn starch. Batter set in vegetable shortening. Cooked in partially hydrogenated vegetable oils, (may contain partially hydrogenated soybean oil and/or partially hydrogenated corn oil and/or partially hydrogenated canola oil and/or cottonseed oil and/or sunflower oil and/or corn oil). TBHQ and citric acid added to help preserve freshness. Dimethylpolysiloxane added as an anti-foaming agent.</i></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Here is a nice breakdown of icky stuff from from cheeseslave.com:</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px;"><span style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><i><br />
</i></span></span></div><div><blockquote style="background-color: white; border-left-color: rgb(221, 221, 221); border-left-style: solid; border-left-width: 1px; color: #666666; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 1.571em; margin-left: 0.786em; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0.786em; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><div style="margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">The most frightening of all is the <strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">tertiary butylhydroquinone</strong>, an antioxidant <strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">derived from petroleum</strong> that is either sprayed on the nugget or the inside of the box it comes in to help preserve freshness!<strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"> TBHQ (tertiary butylhydroquinone) is a form of butane (lighter fluid)</strong>. The FDA allows processors to use it sparingly on food. Source: <a href="http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/311320/chicken_nuggets_twinkies_and_candydo.html" style="color: #2361a1; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;" target="_blank">Chicken Nuggets, Twinkies and Candy… Do You Really Know What You’re Eating?</a></div></blockquote><div style="background-color: white; color: #111111; font-family: Arial, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 22px; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;"><strong style="margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-right: 0px; margin-top: 0px; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Needless to say, this is not food, folks. This is a bunch of petrochemicals, denatured flours, and rancid hydrogenated oils (trans fats)</strong>. Not to mention GMOs.</div><br />
In the very best scenario, the ground chicken in nuggets is mostly the dark meat and other poultry parts that are fatty, high in cholesterol, and not terribly nutritious.<br />
<br />
So this week I am going to make some homemade nuggets, cook the, and freeze them so that we can enjoy them whenever we need a snack, but don't have to worry about GMO's, fillers, MSG, or gross, fatty mystery meat.<br />
<br />
<b>Homemade Chicken Nuggets Sans the Icky Stuff</b><br />
1 lb organic ground turkey or chicken breast<br />
Salt/Pepper (to taste)<br />
<div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">1 Tbsp Italian Seasoning (to taste)<br />
1 tsp garlic powder<br />
Cooking Spray<br />
1 cup Whole Wheat Flour<br />
1 cup Bread crumbs<br />
2 eggs<br />
<br />
<u>Directions:</u><br />
<br />
Preheat the oven to 350 degrees<br />
<br />
Coat a cookie sheet with cooking spray.</div><div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">In a bowl mix together the ground turkey/chicken breast with salt, pepper, garlic powder, Italian seasoning.<br />
<br />
Put the flour in one small bowl, the bread crumbs in another, and the the eggs in a third. Wisk the eggs together with a little water (about a tablespoon).</div><div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Roll the turkey/chicken breast mixture into one-inch balls then dip in the flour, then in the egg wash, then in the bread crumbs before placing them on the greased cookie sheet. </div><div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Use a fork (or your fingers!) to smoosh the balls down a bit, i.e. flatten them into nugget-like shapes. Give the nuggets one more spray of cooking spray.</div><div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Bake about 10 minutes.</div><div style="background-color: white; margin-bottom: 1.571em; padding-bottom: 0px; padding-left: 0px; padding-right: 0px; padding-top: 0px;">Enjoy right away or let cool completely then freeze.</div></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-33076336523550986802011-10-20T07:12:00.000-07:002011-10-20T07:12:24.756-07:00The End of a [Turkey] Era<br />
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Monday night our turkeys had a date
with destiny. Well that’s at least how we continued to refer to
the fact that they were going to butcher. A few months back the tom
aggressively attacked Dylan (scratching his face and ripping his
shirt) and has had his eye on him ever since. I’ve made many
jokes, ever since then, about being happy to see the big guy go. I’m
not entirely heartless, but we knew these birds were being raised for
food so we haven’t gotten attached. Not to mention, I have an
overwhelming amount of love for my child and his perfect face, so to
see a giant scratch down the side of it infuriated me.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well last week we discovered that the
hen had laid a couple of eggs and was dutifully sitting on them.
Since these turkeys were our experiments, we just bought whatever
they sold at Tractor Supply and, like the roasters, they were the
over-bred, broad-breasted variety. Broad-breasteds, like the name
implies, are bred to grow enormous breasts – America’s favorite
part of the Thanksgiving feast – and as a result, can’t breed
naturally. Their chests are simply too large. So lately the female
has been sitting around the yard and the tom has been attempting to
“climb aboard,” but we didn’t have any faith that these eggs
were actually fertilized. Still though, she was sitting like such a
proud mama and broad-breasteds are said to have little to no
mothering instinct left. So then we considered keeping the hen. If
nothing else, she’ll provide eggs (giant ones at that) and maybe
the two she’s sitting on will actually hatch. Either way, once we
started calling her “mama” the thought of taking her to butcher
turned my stomach.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Then a few days went by. She grew
tired of sitting on her little nest and left the eggs in the cold for
the warm comfort of the coop at night. We were then sure that, even
if those eggs were fertilized, they were not viable now. We cracked
them open to find that they were in fact NOT fertilized and also
learned that the shells of turkey eggs are quiet hard! Then the hen
started pecking the comb of one of my layers until it started to
bleed, and once again, I was okay with the impending butcher date.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
So on Monday we load the two turkeys
into our old dog crate and strap it into the back of Chris’s truck.
His truck has a cap on it so even though they’ll bounce around a
bit, their trip will be much warmer than factory farm poultry that is
transported for hours in those open-air semi-trucks.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
As a side note, when you look up
“poultry butchering” in the white pages, not many businesses pop
up. So I went to Tractor Supply and asked around. (Thank God for
Tractor Supply!) Anyway, the very same guy who sold us our chicks so
many months ago, gave me the name of a guy about 30 minutes south. I
called him and we set a date. He was super friendly on the phone,
with a warm chuckle.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Well, we head out a bit before dusk so
by the time we get there it is just beginning to get dark. The road
changes from blacktop to two-track dirt. We find his driveway
(marked by a sign that reads <i>Skinning, Butchering, Processing</i>)
and take the windy path back into the woods. The driveway opens up
into a clearing where there is a ramshackle house to the left and a
small pole barn with a screened in front “porch” area. There are
no cars, no lights on, and no signs of human activity. We spend a
minute or two debating if any person actually lives in the house
before I give Tim a call. He says he’s down the road chopping wood
and will be right up. By the time his pickup truck pulls up the
drive it it very nearly dark. I get out, expecting a jolly man in
his mid-60’s (by the phone conversation), but what I get is nothing
short of mountain man. He is large and potbellied alright, but with
a long, snarly hair, dirty jeans, a flannel shirt, and a Carhart
jacket that has probably existed longer than I have. I feel like his
face was dirty, but it could have been the impending darkness.
Another younger man gets out of the truck too. I assume this to be
Tim’s son and, while his hair is only slightly shorter, it is
hidden beneath a filthy baseball cap. They are friendly, but if I
was to judge based only on appearances, we probably would have jumped
in the truck and sped away. So here we are, in the middle of nowhere
with little cell phone coverage, standing with two dirty mountain
men, in front of a make-shift butchering facility. This is how
horror movies begins! The pair of ragamuffins also have a young
child with them, maybe three, wearing an oversized cowboy hat, so I
assume everything is okay. Backwoods murderers don’t usually bring
along toddlers.
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
We make small talk and then, afraid
that these men are going to handle my turkeys in a rough manner, I
say, “I’m really sad to drop them off. We’ve gotten attached!”
This is only moderately true, but I am trying to play on their
chivalric tendencies. Either it works, or they just aren’t the
type to manhandle turkeys because the younger of the two “escorts”
the tom out of the cage in a way that does not feel harmful or overly
rough. He plops him on the scale and says, “47lbs!” The hen is
closer to 30. In the end, they will dress out at 43 and 23 lbs!</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
They move them into another cage and
say, “we’ll move them inside so the dog doesn’t bug them.” I
find this considerate and this eases my mind.</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br />
</div>
<div style="margin-bottom: 0in;">
Obviously these men are going to kill
these turkeys and the ride out was rather somber and we both felt a
little queasy. Death isn’t pretty, and even though I choose to
raise and eat my own livestock, doesn’t mean I rejoice in their
deaths. However, I do feel that this is a feeling that everyone who
eats meat should feel. When you buy a prepackaged pound of ground
beef at the grocery store it is so far removed from the actual animal
it once was. Taking an animal to butcher (or doing it yourself)
really puts you face to face with the fact that these animals are
dying so that my family can eat. I think about how much I carried
them around as babies and all the times we took them lettuce,
watermelon, tomatoes, and corn cobs. We made sure they were warm and
dry and always had food and water. We separated the male for days at
a time when the hens were pulling his tail feathers out and we gave
the hen “breaks” out of the coop without the tom so that she
could wander without him trying to mount her every 5 minutes. We put
a towel down so that they wouldn’t slide around in the cage in the
car. They had good lives. We respected them and took good care of
them, so we whispered our usual prayer of thanks for these turkeys
and went on our way.</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-50632965990215683402011-10-16T09:08:00.000-07:002013-12-15T13:52:24.032-08:00Let Me Introduce You to Fideo<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<br />
There are a few things I learned from my father-in-law before he left Michigan for the warm, dry south-Texas air. One was that you measure how long rice needs to cook by sips of beer, another is that you should never eat sour cream ever (I have chosen to disregard this advice), and a third is how to make fideo (pronounced <i>fee-day-o)</i>.<br />
<br />
Fideo is kind of like a Mexican spaghetti soup. Like most of my father-in-law's recipes, it has very few ingredients, but is full of flavor. In fact, the hardest thing about reproducing his cooking is infusing flavor into a dish with only 5 ingredients. <br />
<br />
This, ladies and gentlemen, is fideo:<br />
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Over the years I have fancied it up with diced avocado, a little squeeze of lemon and a sprinkle of cheese, but my father-in-law eats it in its purest form and with a side of heated corn tortillas.</div>
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Fideo is actually the type of noodle that is used and it is basically skinny spaghetti, or vermicelli, but it's broken into smaller pieces. My husband's family always bought a brand sold in a yellow box, but I'm not sure what that brand was and can't find it around my house so I use La Moderna:<a href="http://www.alcalorpolitico.com/notas/fotos/SOPA--MODERNA-200-G.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Image Detail" border="0" src="http://www.alcalorpolitico.com/notas/fotos/SOPA--MODERNA-200-G.jpg" /></a></div>
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In addition, you'll need one pound of ground beef, some oil, an onion (chopped), a green pepper (also chopped), a small can of tomato sauce, a large box of chicken stock and some salt and pepper. Now, Jorge doesn't write recipes down and rarely do I (unless I'm posting it here) and fideo is a kind of "made to taste" kind of dish so you have to relax and be creative with this one:</div>
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<b><u>The Recipe</u></b></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;">1. First, brown a pound of ground beef. Use a little season salt to season as it's cooking. I use<a href="http://www.goya.com/english/product_subcategory/Condiments/Adobo"> Adobo</a>, but you can use Lawry's too. Drain and set aside in a separate dish.</span></span><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><br />
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<span class="apple-style-span">2. Then, in the first skillet used for the beef (it
needs to be kind of deep) add just enough oil to cover the
bottom, and turn the heat to about medium. When the oil is warmed up, add
about 2 handfuls (2 cups roughly) of fideo noodles. Stir them around so they brown, but keep an eye on them so they don't burn. </span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="apple-style-span">3. Next, add half of one large onion (chopped) and a small green pepper (chopped)</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="apple-style-span"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="apple-style-span">*My father-in-law says to chop the veggies in large pieces so that the picky members of the family (Stephanie) can pick them out. I say, chop 'em small and trick the picky members to eat them! You'll have to make your own decision about veggie trickery.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="apple-style-span"><br /></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><span class="apple-style-span">Anyway, keep stirring so the veggies heat up (maybe only another minute or two).
Then add in the ground beef.</span><br />
<br />4. Now the next part is a little tricky. Jorge only ever used water, but I've switched to chicken or beef broth over the years. You want to add enough liquid so that it looks like a soup. Keep in mind a little of the liquid will be absorbed by the noodles, so just when it looks like the perfect liquid to ingredient ratio, add a bit more liquid. You can use water, broth, or a mix of the two. I usually add about 4 cups of broth, then end up adding a little more water.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">5. To the soup, add one heaping tablespoon of tomato paste and stir to dissolve. Also season to-taste with chili powder (2 tsp), garlic powder (1 tsp), pepper (1/4 tsp), and a dash of oregano. You can add salt too, but I prefer to add that to-taste in my bowl at the end.</span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-color: white; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; line-height: 115%;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">6. You want to bring the soup to gentle boil and keep it that way about 7-9 minutes (to cook the pasta). I check the pasta along the way and just as soon as it tastes al dente, I remove the pan from the heat. (</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18px;">While cooking, you can always add more liquid if needed.) If you over cook it, the noodles will turn to mush.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18px;">To serve, simply ladle into a bowl. We heat a couple corn tortillas on a <a href="http://www.mexgrocer.com/9115.html">comal</a> (or cast iron skillet). You can top the soup with diced tomato, diced avocado, a dollop of sour cream, some shredded cheese and/or a squeeze of fresh lime. However, my inlaws eat it as is, occasionally dipping a warm tortilla in the broth.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif; line-height: 18px;">Best of luck and enjoy!</span></div>
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Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-91671269009050354782011-09-30T17:20:00.000-07:002011-09-30T17:20:31.304-07:00Farm Bill 101So apparently I've decided as of late that teaching (and all it entails) attempting to work out regularly, and raising a toddler just wasn't enough? I mean, heck, I was eating a leisurely dinner most nights and going to bed at the early time of 10pm. I am a class advisor and our task this year is to raise enough money to throw a fabulous prom next year. I am teaching two new classes this year. I have also officially launched my "side project" called Backyard Spice Shop in which I travel to craft shows and pedal my wares (spice and bread mixes and homemade jelly so far) - Etsy site is coming soon! I'm trying to get a Gay-Straight Alliance going at school and a student just asked if I'd help the school pride group produce a lip-dub video this year. Sure, why not. And now, I'm working with an activist group to fight for a fairer farm bill in 2012. I am not telling you all of this to make you jealous of the fact that my kitchen sink is overflowing with dishes because I'm never home to wash them, I'm telling you so you can understand why the posts have been few and far between.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOhNdzqDa5293N6aEq4fOhMUlSE9Ti-BKQFzEmOm6_Ai8pecppjMN_Lc3ZJrlmJs_i8yhKvQoj22GG5c_JIjUZO4tmoHN22KE9v-_hRMaf8KNoN4EWtOUw6llDtSIr0E365ikODtxVPlrX/s1600/farm+bill.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOhNdzqDa5293N6aEq4fOhMUlSE9Ti-BKQFzEmOm6_Ai8pecppjMN_Lc3ZJrlmJs_i8yhKvQoj22GG5c_JIjUZO4tmoHN22KE9v-_hRMaf8KNoN4EWtOUw6llDtSIr0E365ikODtxVPlrX/s320/farm+bill.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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More importantly, I want to talk about the Farm Bill. The Farm Bill was originally written in 1920 and included the GIPSA rules (Grain Inspection, Packers, and Stockyards Administration). These rules were intended to protect farmers, but over the years they haven't been funded or defined. The current leg of the campaign is focused on getting U.S. Senator Debbie Stabenow (chair of the agriculture committee) to agree to make sure these rules are defined and funded the rules would do the following:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">• Stop price premiums and secret preferential contracts granted to cattle and hog factory farms.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">• Prevent one buyer from representing multiple meatpackers at an auction. This practice effectively eliminates competitive bidding on livestock, which hurts small-scale producers.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">• Prohibits retaliation against poultry growers who speak out about abuses.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">• Protects poultry growers who make expensive upgrades and investments and prevents companies from requiring growers to make expensive upgrades to their facilities if they are in working order.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">(www.foodandwaterwatch.org)</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Today the Kalamazoo group alone got 233 people to call Stabenow's office and demand change. I'm still waiting to hear the totals from around the state, but we filled at least one voicemail box and had to be rerouted to a new number!</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">In addition, I played an integral role in the creation of this awesomely giant rooster prop. His name is RJ. We painted his front side with chalkboard paint so that we could change his message as needed.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;"><img height="320" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-snc7/302184_2456286368206_1283506297_32938982_994006068_n.jpg" width="238" /> </span><img height="238" src="https://fbcdn-sphotos-a.akamaihd.net/hphotos-ak-ash4/321218_2456286488209_1283506297_32938983_2045338032_n.jpg" width="320" /><br />
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Now I don't pretend to be "small farmer" in any sense of the word, but I do raise chickens and turkeys and we have found that most processing plants won't even take your birds unless you have at least 25. This is very frustrating and only a teensy example of what it must feel like to raise 200 head of cattle and be bullied out of the market by "farms" that raise 2000 head.<br />
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The reality is that our food system MUST change. Factory farms are using up our natural resources and leaving fields as barren as a parking lot. Our food is full of chemicals that is having any number of untold effect on our healthy. These large scale operations are pollution our land, water, and air. This is at least one small step that I can be a part of when shopping at the farmers market and baking bread from scratch don't seem like enough.</div>
Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-21255195279837330422011-09-07T18:02:00.000-07:002011-09-07T18:02:10.473-07:00On Coming Clean about Personal ContradictionsI think that many people struggle with reconciling beliefs and reality. We all have a sense of what makes a "good parent," a "good spouse," a "good sibling," a "good person," etc. Sometimes we replace "good" with other lofty ideals like "successful" or "happy." Realistically, we try to live up to beliefs that we sometimes can't achieve. Sometimes we won't ever be able to achieve them because of who we are and our own personal weaknesses. Sometimes we just aren't at a point when success is possible. We may be too immature. Regardless, I think it is exhausting to keep constant tabs on an unattainable belief. I read many blogs that inspire me to live simply and holistically. I do my best and try and make the best choices for my family. The reality is, these bloggers may be presenting a specific persona. Maybe they have more means than I do: time, patience, money... who knows. When I began this blog I wanted to be real about how difficult it is to always make healthy, earth-friendly choices, and unlike the blogs I read, I am a person who is sometimes annoyed by her child. Unlike other bloggers, I occasionally pick up a $5 Hot and Ready Pizza from Little Ceasars. Sometimes I dread eating the veggies that are overflowing in my garden because I've been eating them for several days in a row. I like to think that I'm honest about these things. However, I have found myself on the defensive in several situations as of late, "Wow, you're eating that?" "You mean this isn't organic? *gasp*" "You of all people don't like broccoli?" "Are you feeding Dylan chips?"<br />
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I am very passionate about food. I think and read about food-related politics second only to the amount of time I spend thinking and reading about education. But here are some other things you should know about me... In an attempt to free myself from trying to live up to an unattainable belief about who I am, how I should be, or how I should raise my family, I have offered you a glimpse of some of my contradictions:<br />
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1. I love Cool Ranch Doritos. Yup, they are full of all things I hate: artificial colors and flavors, preservatives, MSG, and fat... but they are so, so good.<br />
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2. I sometimes buy grocery store chicken. Sometimes I can't get to the farmers market and sometimes I don't have the money to buy the $5/lb selection. Grocery store chicken is full of sodium, but sometimes I buy it and eat and I don't always feel guilty about it.<br />
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3. There are always American cheese slices in my fridge. Sure I prefer fancy cheese and American cheese isn't really a cheese, but more of a "cheese-product," but I think we can all admit that it makes the best grilled cheese. Sometimes you just need a good melting cheese!<br />
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4. I'm happy that our chickens are finally laying and I am totally okay with eating the eggs, but every time I crack one open, I can't help but think about the fact that this passed through the "vent" of a chicken. Mmmmmm.....<br />
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5. I love ranch dressing. Again, a product full of nastiness, including high fructose corn syrup, but if I had my way, I would dip nearly everything in it!<br />
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6. At the request of my husband, I once prepared a dish that was as follows:<br />
- A layer of shredded chicken<br />
- A layer of goo that included: sour cream AND cream of chicken soup mixed together<br />
- A layer of shredded cheese<br />
- A layer of crushed cheddar Doritos<br />
And I ate it. And it was not horrible.<br />
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7. Sometimes my toddler drives me crazy. Everyone posts on facebook when they are in love with their little one, but people rarely post "The kid is driving me crazy. Someone please come and rescue me."<br />
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8. I sometimes feel paralyzed at the grocery store b/c I've read so many things about so many different products that I feel like I can't buy anything. I used to love to grocery shop, but now it causes me anxiety when I am buying something for a recipe that I know was not grown/raised/harvested in safe, clean, or acceptable conditions.<br />
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9. I eat fast food. Not often, but I have a weakness for crispy chicken sandwiches.<br />
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10. I love TV. Certainly it isn't "classy" to spend hours drooling in front of the TV, but if there was adequate programming, or I had enough things DVR'd, I could sit in front of the TV ALL. DAY. I do love to be outside and hate to waste daylight so I generally reserve my TV watching for the evenings (I love DVR), but as a result, I have many tired mornings because I just don't want to turn it off.<br />
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<br />Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-65443804022290830662011-08-22T20:38:00.000-07:002011-08-22T20:38:12.362-07:00On Keeping PerspectiveI really don't want this post to be a cliche "be thankful for what you have" rant, but a couple things have come up and I'm feeling that exact sentiment. First of all, last week I had coffee with a former student of mine who is currently building a school in Uganda. The story is simple. He visited Uganda. Fell in love with the people. Came home and raised money. Went back and began the project. Okay, it wasn't entirely that simple, but he is not associated with any large charity. He's raising money through donations from people and churches (you know, the old fashioned way). When he's in Uganda, he washes his clothes by hand, walks a mile and a half for water, lives off of simple food stuffs and labors everyday with the people from his village to build a school. A school that children will walk two to three miles to attend. And he couldn't be happier. They mold each brick by hand and he has suffered from malaria about 85 times (that's a exact count, of course). Here's<a href="http://ryankaminski.wordpress.com/"> his blog</a> if you want to check it out or donate a few bucks!<br />
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So while we are having coffee he relates a story of when he is telling some of the kids about America and happens to tell them about our pets. So he describes dogs and all the care we take of them and one of the kids says that he wishes he could come to America and be Ryan's dog.<br />
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So that gets me thinking. Our pets drink cleaner water in America than many people drink around the world. My dog certainly has a shorter walk to the source. Most dogs (not so much mine) go to the vet regularly whereas many children around the world have never seen a doctor. My dog eats to his heart's content daily and many people around the world are <a href="http://globalpublicsquare.blogs.cnn.com/2011/08/18/somalia-a-very-man-made-disaster/?iref=allsearch">starving</a>. <br />
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Then a couple days later, in a weak moment, I typed in yahoo.com into my search bar because I was bored and I wondered what non-news stories were being covered on their homepage today. The first story that popped up was the wedding of Kim Kardashian. I'm sure you've already assumed where this is going and you don't need me to tell you to "count your blessings," and "prioritize," but I do think we all need reminders. Kim Kardashian's cake alone cost $20,000 and stood 6 feet tall. It was designed to feed 440 guests. I'm sure there were that many guests in attendance, however, the cake was not served. Guests ate pieces from some behind-the-scenes-sheet cake. I have been preoccupied all night with several questions.. "why?" is obviously my first question. Where did all that cake go? How much did the secondary cake cost? But I just keep coming back to why? I mean, seriously? I know many celebrities live extravagant and wasteful lives, but I think that this story, in context to my conversation with Ryan, just really felt appalling. I know Kim Kardashian donates to charities, but man $20,000 would feed a lot more than 440 Somalis. <br />
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I love to cook and I love to share food and I absolutely HATE to see food go to waste. I will cut mold off of bread or cheese, consume products past their expiration dates, re-use leftovers in far too many ways -- anything to keep from throwing food away. It's because I feel so grateful to have enough food and to be able to afford "fancy" foods like gourmet cheeses and flavored vinegars. <br />
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I just thought it was a nice reminder for myself so I thought I'd share with you.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-43246316343048695792011-08-16T18:31:00.000-07:002011-08-16T18:31:18.674-07:00More Sites to Make You Go "MMMM!"I have a few additions to the sites I directed you towards last time. I've been loving these sites as of late:<br />
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<a href="http://tastykitchen.com/">The Tasty Kitchen</a><br />
This is a great place for indulgent dessert ideas, but has delicious meal recipes too!<br />
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<a href="http://theitaliandishblog.com/">The Italian Dish</a><br />
What could be better than a site devoted to Italian cooking? Bread? Pasta? Cheese? Wine? Seriously. Need I say more?<br />
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<a href="http://brokeassgourmet.com/">Broke Ass Gourmet</a><br />
I obviously love the name, but I also love the recipes. She makes fancy things with ingredients I usually have on hand.<br />
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Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-21631996757409449112011-08-15T18:16:00.000-07:002011-08-15T18:16:56.576-07:00Amnesic NostalgiaOne of the sociology classes I took in order to complete my minor was "Family and Society." The instructor was very charismatic and I remember more tidbits from just interesting things she said than I do from any other class. I remember her speaking about progress and how there are always those who look back with a sort of amnesic nostalgia. She called it amnesic nostalgia because these people tend to believe in the "good ole days" as if things were better "back then." The amnesic part is the fact that there are always social problems, but when we are feeling nostalgic, we block these bad things out. Think back about high school, unless you had some traumatic experience, you probably default to the good times. Anyway, the instructor went on to say that these people are often opposed to new technology and significant change. They fear or wish to avoid things that change the way things are done.<div><br />
</div><div>Well. I believe I may be one of these people. Obviously there is a paradox built into this belief system, I don't like some progress, but I certainly like the kind that develops green technology or cancer-fighting drugs. So can you have it both ways? I don't care to have new electronics like iPods, fancy digital cameras, and state of the art computer systems. I recently got a Nook and, I'll be honest, I've wrestled internally with whether or not I am happy about it. I want to hoe my garden by hand, not with a roto-tiller. I want to bake from scratch (on the rare occassion that I bake!). I want to can fruits and veggies. I want to have a pantry filled with jams, pickles, and other such homemade delicacies. I want to raise all of my own food. I want to never worry about a calorie because I burn far more in producing the food than I do in consuming it. I feel that non-air-conditioned air is "fresher." I also want my life to slow down. I want to keep perspective.</div><div><br />
</div><div>The problem? I don't have time for many of these activities. I like an AC window unit in my bedroom because it helps my allergies. I like that I can keep my Nook in my purse and I have a book on hand ALWAYS. I like that when I just can't pick another potato bug off of my plants, I can just sprinkle the tiniest amount of 7 Dust and call it a night. So I struggle with the medium. I want to raise my son to appreciate the way things were once done. I want him to learn to write in cursive and to appreciate old books, movies, and music. For no other reason than because I just want to teach him to<i> appreciate.</i> It's like when your math teacher made you do things the long way, then introduced you to the short cut.</div><div><br />
</div><div>As a public school teacher I am, of course, a member of a union. Again, unions are a structure in our society that I value and respect. I also believe it is my civic duty to take an active role in preserving unions and working within my own. I feel the same way about voting. I feel that it is our duty as Americans to affect what ever version of democracy we are currently living under. So what do you do when you feel as if you don't have a voice? The government is legislating how unions do business. The battles with administration feel like they can't be won. I don't have a clue how to vote in the next election because I'm unhappy with all of my choices. </div><div><br />
</div><div>It feels as though it is more and more difficult to respect these once-respectable institutions. Even grocery shopping has become difficult. I want to feed my family wholesome products, but many meat, fruit, and veggie suppliers are not required to tell the truth on their packaging. I'm starting to feel like the more I learn, the harder it is to find happiness. I'm starting to understand the phrase "ignorance is bliss." I don't want to be pessimistic, but it feels to me like everything is changing and I just want to go back to the "good ole days." I am being ironic on purpose. I know that there are no "good ole days." I know that my generation is not the first to struggle with change, progress, or frustration in their governing body. I know all of this, but that doesn't make any of it any easier, now does it?</div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-54661364037696494402011-07-27T14:27:00.000-07:002011-07-27T14:27:10.104-07:00Goat Cheese-Stuffed French ToastYes I did this.<br />
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I had just a smidgen of honey infused goat cheese left over from an evening of cheese, wine, and friends.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjge7_228R9Vu_c3ZX6Yo3SQJQyztzJb-tEKD8BBqAZvHDHPzoGhNVh34-ejWlEtbYx0LmfENoo_qnZ0ONhL_bJGopvIAUhdg9zPRC-kS-dM7dXKaDEvKLNehEmTc5E-PUeMwPDp4Q0raQ_/s1600/001.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjge7_228R9Vu_c3ZX6Yo3SQJQyztzJb-tEKD8BBqAZvHDHPzoGhNVh34-ejWlEtbYx0LmfENoo_qnZ0ONhL_bJGopvIAUhdg9zPRC-kS-dM7dXKaDEvKLNehEmTc5E-PUeMwPDp4Q0raQ_/s320/001.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
This was too large a piece to throw away, but not really a big enough piece to share.<br />
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Well the hubby is out for the evening so I thought I'd experiment with this overly indulgent dinner idea.<br />
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First I made french toast like normal. I combine eggs, milk, vanilla, and cinnamon to my mine.<br />
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Then I spread the goat cheese on the warm french toast.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwuvR__hYFMPYMrQhfP9zoCZgK8O9skvO4on3ENEpVSu_Hp4-OWx1ygngzmFd6ooNSxGNWWONqrEiUYBI0bCJ_0kiFuA-D5594kyz1-sXxxpAMXIgJPZfkl-IQuZColSYCGMXBV9Tbkcdg/s1600/002.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwuvR__hYFMPYMrQhfP9zoCZgK8O9skvO4on3ENEpVSu_Hp4-OWx1ygngzmFd6ooNSxGNWWONqrEiUYBI0bCJ_0kiFuA-D5594kyz1-sXxxpAMXIgJPZfkl-IQuZColSYCGMXBV9Tbkcdg/s320/002.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
For good measure, I added a few chopped walnuts. I considered adding blueberries (which I picked on Monday), but that would require a trip to the deep freezer and I just wasn't feelin' it.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6XtzSrAoAHHwzSFFRCzY9KXLLUYl8Dzudr_Co4aykCHLA5NulsEqMWHgSpMAdUFRE4Zk06mxDmuM8mWdD_EUyCEjregYGj7X3d1B9C-RNtfxGe2oBni2HTq4oH0RmlCFp0eWPynGoV6V/s1600/003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM6XtzSrAoAHHwzSFFRCzY9KXLLUYl8Dzudr_Co4aykCHLA5NulsEqMWHgSpMAdUFRE4Zk06mxDmuM8mWdD_EUyCEjregYGj7X3d1B9C-RNtfxGe2oBni2HTq4oH0RmlCFp0eWPynGoV6V/s320/003.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><br />
Then I threw another piece on top and added a little syrup. Of course, I only added powder sugar for the photo, I would never over do it in this matter (haha, yeah right).<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDicYD_aDknMNEHWma2FzeE0M-BqsmQwtdfm5TrqJPS46tL0QR11Ey12QG4lyWO0WZ1O7ZQMmFu8OpVD2lTE_Lz_JuNTUiMKxQhY99Jn7vD4NpY1tQQQt9ixzWxEi7Y-KJzfr4Wl73eWW/s1600/004.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJDicYD_aDknMNEHWma2FzeE0M-BqsmQwtdfm5TrqJPS46tL0QR11Ey12QG4lyWO0WZ1O7ZQMmFu8OpVD2lTE_Lz_JuNTUiMKxQhY99Jn7vD4NpY1tQQQt9ixzWxEi7Y-KJzfr4Wl73eWW/s320/004.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8525673329735994293.post-49829054103744569842011-07-21T10:37:00.000-07:002011-07-21T10:37:34.498-07:00A Not-So-Short Rant on ParentingI think it is pretty safe to say that parenting is tough. Even if you don't have or even like children, this is probably not news to you. Thankfully, parenting books, magazines, websites, and overly-pessimistic friends will prepare you for this when you are pregnant. What you will not be told is how emotionally draining it can be - at least the first one.<br />
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Every day that you raise a child you are confronted with any number of decisions: what will I serve for breakfast? what outfit will this child wear? what will I serve for a snack? Should I even serve a snack? What will I serve for lunch? for dinner? Should I apply sunscreen? is bug spray safe? Is he teething, getting sick, or simply being whiney? Some decisions are tougher: Is he too old for a pacifier? Are vaccines safe? When should he start preschool? Is he developing normally? Is he constipated? Where is he? Have I lost my child? Oh crap, he's not in his room... You get the idea. Some of these are not terribly difficult problems to solve until other adult human beings enter you life, and trust me, they will.<br />
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First of all, your spouse is presumably in the picture. He or she will probably have an opinion at some point and sometimes it won't mesh with yours. You will probably have grandparents who have opinions and those most likely will NOT mesh with yours. Daycare providers, babysitters, and other friends with kids may feel the need to provide opinions about the way you cut your child's hair, the manner in which you dealt with his most recent tantrum, and, of course, his sleep and nap situation. These people will all tell you what they think "should" be happening in your life as well as the life of that mini-human who are raising. Some of these people will offer advice that you could not imagine living without. These are people who have survived these years or are currently surviving them. They may offer you suggestions that you never even considered.<br />
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Now, there is also another group of people who will no doubt enter your life. These are those friends (or neighbors) who do not have children. These people speak in absolutes: "I will never let my child..." or "My child will always..." or "I will do this..." You will take these comments as a direct attack on the way you are already doing things because raising a kid is hard work and you are always second-guessing yourself. Therefore, when a childless (and in your mind, objective) observer comments, you worry they might be right. Things are simpler for these people. They aren't in the midst of making one million decisions about the care of a mini-human. They probably get eight hours of uninterrupted sleep. They may come and go from their house as they please and make plans at the drop of a hat. These are people who do not schedule their lives around naps, meals, snacks, and tantrums. These people aren't living with the constant guilt that mothers seem to always have lurking somewhere in the back of their minds. I'm not criticizing these people. I was one at one time, obviously. They have either made this choice or just simply have not chosen to reproduce yet. The advice these people offer is usually not helpful and sometimes only serves to make you question everything you thought had already figured out.<br />
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What these people don't understand is that they, literally, don't understand. When your child whines or cries, they do not have the same physical response that you do. A cry is a cry when you don't have a child, but when you do, you can recognize YOUR child's cry. You can tell the difference between a whimper that means "I'm frustrated" and a whimper that means, "Ow that really hurt." You can sense which whines are about to turn into screams and you can tell when a real hug is needed. You are getting used to the fact that your own personal hygiene really isn't that necessary. You are now more excited about train sets and tricycles then you are about iPods and Nooks. Your childless friends don't know what it feels like when your child wraps his arms around your neck and squeezes so hard that you feel like you might just explode with love. They don't understand that after an unusually horrific night you wake to find your child looking at you with a look of such admiration that even you begin to think that you might really be the center of the universe. You get to see the first time they successfully count, the first roll, the first step, the first laugh - oh my god - the first time they really laugh? If that could be bottled we could end wars!<br />
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Kids really are a hell of a lot of work and I find that I exist in a state of near-exhaustion most of the time. I don't get to stay out late at the bar or meet people for lunch spur of the moment. But those last few minutes before bed when I'm reading a book and Dylan has nestled his head against my shoulder and then looks up at me with those intense brown eyes says, "more books, mama?" beats a kegger, a hangover, a trip to the salon, a lunch with friends any day.Andreahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15017244822264786205noreply@blogger.com4