Is this heaven?!?

It ain't Iowa, I know that.

Not that there's anything wrong with Iowa, per se... although I could live happily without seeing snow again for the rest of my life... but since I was quoting the line from Field of Dreams, I figured I should continue.

Now, where was I? Oh, yes!

Heaven!


Heaven can be found on the back of a mellow Quarter Horse named Joe (who's still sporting his winter fuzz for the time being)... at a ranch west of Gainesville, Texas where they train cutting horses.

I helped.

No, really. I did. A little.

The folks who own this place go to my church, and the wife (Melanie) asked me this morning after worship service if I wanted to come out and ride.

Did I? Are you kidding me?


That is ACTUALLY ME there on the horse on the left. My job was to help keep that little Angus calf moving so that Jeff could work at training his horse to "cut"... which means to keep that one calf separated from the rest of the calves so the cowboys can do whatever they need to do to him (brand, de-worm, de-nut, whatever).

Do you KNOW how happy this kind of thing makes me?

Really, really happy.


Alice also sat on Joe for a while, because he may be the mellowest horse known to man (even though he's relatively young, only about five or so). And she got to ride him for several rounds in the round-pen.

Mister Mellow Joe, the furry bay Quarter Horse.

Oh, and my butt-bones are screaming in pain now. It's a happy sort of pain, of course, but it still hurts. I sure hope I'm able to walk tomorrow. It's not looking promising.



But it was WORTH IT. Oh, yes, it was.

ZOMG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!1!!

Guess what we got here at the big yellow house in Ballyhoo?


CROCUSES!!!!

That picture was taken on Thursday. Here's what they look like today:



It's a brilliant, sunshiny day... just the sort I needed after last night's unpleasant shenanigans. And to have little yellow non-dandelion flowers popping up in my yard? Priceless. And sooooo necessary to my mental health.

And then, I rounded a corner and saw this:



Yep, that's right. The first daffodil.

ZOMG, people. Spring really IS coming.

The King of Caturday

My handsome kitteh-boy.

It's FRIDAY!!!

It's Friday and I get to wear jeans to school. I put the brakes on a couple of smartass freshman boys yesterday and got a nice clean floor out of the deal.

This is starting out to be a pretty great day. One of my two favorite English curmudgeons is on FoxNews right now (Stuart Varney) (the other one is John Derbyshire). I'm having a tall cuppajoe. And I loaded my Prokofiev CD onto my iPod last night. OH-- and I bought the Glee first season soundtrack on iTunes. That's what I'll be listening to during Art class today.

Wheee!

On a more humorous note, guess what? I've just had a MAJOR source of blogfodder added to my life.

I'm going to be the cheerleading sponsor next school year.

Karma is really weird sometimes, yanno?

Sis Boombah is going to be my new name. hehe

Looky!!

My BFF drove by my old house in Des Moines yesterday and took a picture of it. AWWW!! I miss my quirky, crazy old house! It was too small and had a weird layout, but I loved it just the same. I miss being right in the middle of the city. I miss seeing my BFF something FIERCE.

I do NOT miss the snow, though. That is entirely too much. I mean, really!

Scaerials

Watching the Aerials competition on the Olympics... I swear, that scares the bejeebers outta me, watching those people flip around on skis like that. I'd ride the skeleton before I'd do THAT.

Art idea

I recently made this koi card (5" x 6.5") from a picture I found on the internet and it has given me an idea.

More to come as my idea begins to gel.

Church pot-luck fun

Okay, so all three items I brought to the church pot-luck fellowship meal today were a big hit and were incredibly tasty. That is such a rare occurrence that I thought I'd share my recipes here.

First off, the pasta salad. I am NOT normally a fan of pasta salad. It's usually too sweet or vinegary or just generally yucky. But the pasta salad I made yesterday evening is so good, I'm going to make it again and again. I actually threw it together from stuff I thought sounded good, and it ended up being even better than I thought it would be.

Basil-Avocado Pasta Salad
(makes a ton; halve it for smaller batches. Do the math. I'm not into numbers, myself.)

Two cartons of grape tomatoes, halved
Four avocadoes, diced
One six-oz. jar of parmesan-romano cheese shreds
One carton of baby portabella mushrooms, washed and quartered
One carton of fresh basil, chiffonade-sliced
One box of Barilla mini-farfalle bowties, cooked and drained and lubed-up with EVOO
One bottle of Caesar dressing (your choice of brand)

Throw all of it into a big bowl together, pour the Caesar dressing over it, toss it together, and refrigerate it overnight to let the flavors intermingle nicely.

UPDATE: The leftovers for this are even better-tasting, but it might be better to toss the diced avocado in lime juice first before putting it into the salad because it tends to get kinda brownish on the edges. Tastes fine, just isn't terribly attractive as a leftover. Other than that, I can't wait to make this stuff again. It's just that good. I had it for lunch today at school. Rick ate the last of it for lunch here at home.
------------------------------------

Dijon Pulled Pork
(again, makes a ton. Adjust accordingly.)

One pork butt, whatever size will fit into your crockpot
One bottle of Dijon mustard (the generic brand will be fine)
White wine

Put the pork butt into the crockpot. Pour the entire contents of the Dijon mustard bottle into the crockpot on top of the pork butt. Pour white wine over this until the liquid comes about halfway up the sides of the pork butt (more or less, doesn't matter THAT much). Set the slow cooker to Low and leave it on all night long, about eight hours or thereabouts. When you get up in the morning, if you don't faint from hunger at the incredible smell, pull the pork apart with a fork and remove the big shoulder-blade bone if there is one. Serve on a bun.
-------------------------------------------

Easy-Cheesy cheese ball
(makes one cereal-bowl-sized cheese ball)

8 oz. cream cheese, softened
One packet of Hidden Valley Ranch salad dressing mix, made according to the recipe on back of the packet except with half the liquid ingredients -- it calls for a cup of milk and a cup of mayo, use half a cup of each instead)

Mix these two ingredients together, along with a handful of shredded cheese (Fiesta Blend or cheddar).

Line a cereal bowl with stretchable plastic wrap, then sprinkle another handful of shredded cheese onto the wrap. Spread it out a little, then pour the cream cheese/ranch mixture atop the cheese shreds and then wrap into a ball-shape. Twist the wrap closed and put the cheese ball into the freezer until you need it.

You could also top it with pecans or chopped pistachios instead of more shredded cheese.
-----------------------------------------

Enjoy, y'all! I'm not gonna lie to you, these three recipes are the bomb. The yeast bread I made was also quite yummy, but I didn't want to share that with anyone else, so I sliced it up and put it into a ziploc bag for me to snack on during the week. Most store-bought bread contains cornstarch or even corn syrup, which tears up my GI tract something fierce, so if I want to eat bread, I have to make it myself. That's why I love-love-love my breadmaker.

You hardly ever see breadmakers anymore, seems like. They were all the vogue at one point about ten years ago, and then people bought them and never used them. Well, I actually USE mine. It works beautifully and it wasn't a high-dollar item, either.

Any-hoo, the recipe I've been using for home-made bread includes white flour, hot water, honey, organic sugar-free peanut butter, kosher salt, and shelled pistachios. It's some serious good stuff. I might try it with rice flour (mochi) sometime; my system tolerates wheat flour, but it's much happier with rice-based ingredients than with any other kind of starch. Maybe half and half to start with.

My iron supplement arrived in the mail on Friday. Hooray! Hopefully in another week or so, I'll be able to get a new round of labs done to check and see whether it's absorbing. I'd like to be able to have my "oomph" back.

Caturday Olympics

Dad & Dude

Dad is watching the Olympics.

Dude is not.

Dude is, however, occupying his favorite spot in the house, next to his favorite person in the house.

I spent most of the day today at school at an academic competitive meet (UIL, for those of you from Texas who know what that is), so I wasn't around to do my usual Saturday blogging. Once I got home, I had to start cooking for tomorrow's church pot-luck lunch. I made a pasta salad with basil chiffonade, grape tomatoes, baby portabella mushrooms, Caesar dressing, avocadoes and Romano cheese. I also put a pork butt into the crockpot with Dijon mustard and Sauvignon Blanc wine and put it on Low to simmer all night long (I'll pull it apart in the morning before church so it'll be "pulled pork" but not barbecue-flavored). Finally, I fired up the breadmaker and tossed in some flour, peanut butter, honey and pistachio nuts. Should be tasty. Smells heavenly as it's baking.

Kitty Boy earned his keep today

Dude caught and killed a fat mouse in the kitchen today! Good kitteh!! He carried it around a while, then took it outside. I'm so proud of my kitty-boy, getting rid of the nasty mouses for his mommy.

Sadie the Scottie wins the big one

Great Scot! Sadie wins at Westminster

Sadie earned her 112th best in show ribbon. Also reaching the final ring were a brittany that recently had two litters, a whippet that can run 35 mph, a Doberman pinscher headed into retirement, a white toy poodle who overcame his anxiety around crowds, a Canadian-bred French bulldog and a puli that twice won the herding group.

When I was in elementary school, our neighbors had a herd of Scottie dogs. I was absolutely petrified, terrified, of those dogs. If I got anywhere near their fence, they would all as a unified group come tearing out of nowhere, barking ferociously. Even today, I would probably never get too close to a Scottie... my rational mind knows it's no big deal, but that scared little seven-year-old girl in me still quails at the thought of those pert black dogs.

All the same, congrats to Sadie. I'm sure she's a terrific dog.

I just probably won't ever be running out to buy a Scottie pup. Some things make lasting impressions on developing psyches, yanno?

A February cold

Runny nose.

Sore throat.

Fatigue.

I haz dem.

[sigh]

Do these nincompoops even READ the news?

Give up your iPod for Lent, bishops urge

"Instead of giving up chocolate for Lent, why not fast for justice ... to help those suffering from the effects of climate change," said Jones.

Ummm, I hate to burst your eco-bubble, but "climate change" is dubious at best, and man-made global warming is a colossal hoax. But then, so is your eco-feelgood religion.

Believe what you want, but at the very least, can you be informed? Clinging to this idiocy makes you no better than the Islamo-freaks who can't seem to emerge from the Middle Ages... but spouting it from a leadership position makes everything about you look ridiculous.

Pop

At the Baylor University Medical Center's world-famous hookah bar, my Pop tokes up on their finest bronchodilators in an effort to clear his lungs and increase his O2 sats.

We sailed down the Dallas North Tollway toward downtown Dallas, Texas to go see my Pop last night. He hasn't been doing so well, you see... fluid is building up in his gut and in his lungs. They drew off 2.4L of fluid just from one of his lungs last night. No wonder he couldn't breathe!

The myeloma is in remission right now, but the other terrible problems that come along with a stem cell transplant are definitely causing him major major agony. I'm hoping they're going to get to the root of this fluid buildup thing SOON and get him the medications to fix it. I need my Daddy to get better NOW. This picture you're looking at? This is not what my Daddy looks like. Yeah, it's how he appears right now, but it's not HIM. He's supposed to be whittling in the backyard, puffing on a fine Dominican something-or-other, or cleaning a big bass... not sucking on a hospital bong.

Get well quick, Pop. I love you so much.

新年快樂

Happy New Year, y'all!

Chinese New Year photo gallery

And in case you're hoping to improve on your financial situation, here's some Feng Shui investment tips for the Year of the Tiger:

“Tiger years are typically marked by dramatic changes and even upheaval and 2010, much like the tiger itself, sees an energetic and powerful, but impulsive and risky, year ahead,” the brokerage said in its 16th annual Feng Shui Index report. Overall the outlook is bullish, with especially strong gains expected from September through the end of the year.

This particular Year of the Tiger is also associated with metal, one of five traditional Chinese elements, which means it will be a good year to own metals, and gold could rally to more than $2,000 an ounce, the report predicts. But water-related sectors such as shipping are set to have a lousy year.

Umm, okay. The article also mentions that The Year of the Tiger is going to be an especially auspicious one for those born in the Year of the Horse. That would include me, so I'm looking forward to a terrific 2010. Believe it.

[eye roll] Whatevs, peeps. I believe that a year is what you make of it, regardless of what happens in it. This one's going to be fantastical great because I intend for it to be.

Caturday morning nap

If there *were* such a thing as reincarnation, I'd want to come back as a pampered and well-loved family kittycat. It must be simply loverley to take so many naps, and have free food and water that I don't have to work for, and have a yappy puppy dog to wrestle with when I'm in the mood for such tomfoolery.

A little local color

A few snow creations I saw in Denton yesterday when I went to my cardiologist appointment:

Snowboarder?

Ummm... wedding cake? It was quite nicely done, but I wasn't sure what it was supposed to be. Robot snowman, maybe? I dunno.


The Flying Tomato!!


When I stopped for milk at Braum's, the employees had put together this smiling creation atop one of the shrubs.

I love Braum's. I really, really do.

I hate snow, of course, but I still have a sense of humor and I still appreciate a good photo-op. Plus, I had my green & brown plaid Wellies on, so my feet didn't get cold OR wet. That, coupled with the moderate temperatures, made it bearable. If it had been minus ten out, you can bet I wouldn't be shutterbugging outdoors.

I bought those Wellies on 6th Avenue in NYC, about two blocks south of Central Park, because my feet were wet in the rain when I was walking to the MMA. I love those boots sooooo much... not only are they kickin' awesomely cute, but they evoke very happy memories, too.

A visit with the cardiologist

I didn't really want to have to get out in this snowy mess this morning, but I had a 10AM appointment with my cardiologist (Dr. Robert Park, with the Denton Heart Group in Denton, Texas... the nicest and coolest cardiologist I've met since my BFF's spectacular cardio dude, Dr. Matthew Flemming in Des Moines) to explain my labs and my stress echo test, and if I rescheduled, it would have to wait until APRIL. April, people! Good grief!

So I pulled on a couple of turtlenecks, a hoodie, longjohns and sweatpants, two pairs of thick socks, and knee-high rubber boots. I don't do wet socks, and I knew that all the snow in the parking lots and sidewalks would be deep and melty and sloppy. I was right. It was a MESS. Nobody down here has a snow plow, so the parking lots just stay nasty.

Once inside the doctor's office, they put me on the scales and I said, "I probably have on ten pounds of clothes. I'm not kidding." He moved the pins and sure enough, it measured 128. "It IS!" I exclaimed. He agreed that I did have an excessive amount of clothing on, and he marked me down as 118, which is what I'm tipping my home scales at these days. (I know, it's unthinkable. But it's true.)

The cardiologist told me that I did have several episodes of atrial fibrillation and a few PVCs, and a little leakage in one of my valves, but that it wasn't what he was concerned about. My iron levels, he said, were pretty much at zero.

"Would that cause syncope?" I asked him. He said absolutely, especially in the shower or when standing up quickly. You see, I fainted in the bathroom floor getting out of the shower yesterday. It occasionally happens to me. Anyway, he said that there were three main possibilities for the severe anemia problem -- menstruation, malabsorption due to my surgery, and/or gastric lesions that are leaking blood.

Yeccch!! If they're afraid I have lesions in there, they're going to want to 'scope me. And that's, like, my most favorite procedure EVAR (/sarcasm).

He said that if I had gotten to this extreme low iron level more quickly, I'd probably be incapacitated, but that since it's been a gradual decline, I'm still able to function.

Anyway, he punted the iron deficiency issues to my bariatric surgeon and my primary care physician... and said that if, after my iron levels are stabilized, I'm still having the fibrillation issues, I can come back and we'd start looking at medication to fix it.

Next step is a visit with the surgeon, who will probably prescribe an iron supplement that I can absorb properly.

Snow Ice Cream!

Made up a big bowl of snow ice cream tonight... Alice approves. As do Isaac and Martha. As do I, for that matter.

I used Paula Deen's recipe: 8 cups of snow, a can of sweetened condensed milk, and a teaspoon of vanilla. I can definitely recommend this... it's gooooooood.

Slow-moving White Behemoth

This giant hit of snow is predicted to sit atop us all day today.

I hate snow.

I can haz summr naow plz? Kthxbai.

Going to bed early

Yeah, it's only ten after seven in the evening, but in just a bit, I'm going to bed. I am tired. I'm going to attempt to at least make it until the kids go to bed, but I'm not sure I can last that long.

Honk shoo.

Mmmmm... catfish...

One of my dearest friends came over with her family tonight for a little Super Bowl Commercial Watching. She works for a catfish restaurant, and she brought over some leftovers that they couldn't use.

Ah just loooooves me some catfish.

Not good news

Y'all pray for my pal, BlogDog... I just found out that they're without power over where he lives in Virginia. There are lots and lots and lots of people in the same boat. A dangerous situation, that's what. I think that his area got about two feet of snow.






I worry.




The photo is from the Baltimore newspaper's web site.

Happy Birthday to Ronaldus Magnus

I read this over at NRO this morning and just felt like it was exactly the right tribute to The Great One today. It's written by Paul Kengor, who's a professor of political science at Grove City College, which is a Christian college in Grove City, Pennsylvania, about sixty miles north of Pittsburgh.

Reagan was just plain likable. Of all the subjects I’ve studied, few were as universally liked. Sure, Reagan, as president, was demonized by the Left, but that’s what the Left does: indecent, ugly rage. Still, even most liberals muster nice words about Reagan personally.

Central to that likability was Reagan’s humility. The word “I” didn’t dominate his conversation, unless he was poking fun at himself. He was no narcissist. Ronald Reagan was not full of pride; he was thoroughly unpossessed of self-love.

And so, with that background, I’d like to take the opportunity presented by Reagan’s time of year — not to mention the month of Presidents’ Day — to share an anecdote that was told to me by Bill Clark, Reagan’s close friend and most significant adviser.

At the time this happened, Clark was serving as Reagan’s national-security adviser. He had previously been deputy secretary of state, and would later be appointed secretary of the interior. His driver all this time was a man named Joe Bullock, a Georgia native who had moved to Washington during the Great Depression. Joe was a victim of the cruel Jim Crow laws that afflicted the South. He went to Washington for a better life.

Joe first found employment as a mule driver. He eventually began chauffeuring various senior people in the federal government, some of whom, including a high-level figure in the Carter administration, didn’t treat him well; in fact, that previous cabinet secretary didn’t speak a word to Joe in three years.

Thus, Joe was taken aback when Bill Clark not only talked to him, asking questions about his life and family, but also asked whether he could sit up front. Clark rode shotgun with Joe, drawing more than a few stares and safety concerns as well, since Clark, given his influence in national security, was a target of America’s enemies.

One morning, Clark’s father visited Washington. He hit it off with Joe. Clark’s father was a rancher, a man of the West. He gave Joe a gift: a Western-style belt, with a kind of “John Wayne belt buckle,” as Clark described it. Joe loved it, proudly displaying it by always leaving his blue suit-jacket unbuttoned.

That belt soon assumed a life of its own. A state visit by England’s Queen Elizabeth and Prince Philip was upcoming, and protocol demanded that the White House provide gifts. Clark, Reagan, and a few others brainstormed following a morning briefing. For Philip, Clark suggested a “Western belt.” He had one in mind, made by Si Jenkins, a Santa Barbara friend of both Clark and the president. (Reagan, too, was a California rancher.)

“Well, what does it look like?” asked Reagan. Clark noted he had a model in the car: Joe, who was wearing the belt. “Send him up,” ordered the president. They called for Joe, who entered via the door of Reagan’s secretary.

Joe had worked for the federal government for half a century, but had never been within 50 yards of the Oval Office. He walked in. He saw Clark, Vice President Bush, the senior aides, and the president of the United States. He was in awe, overcome. Suddenly, this tough six-foot-four man began weeping: He had come so far since Jim Crow and the Great Depression. He was choked up.

No one in the room was prepared for that reaction. They were dead silent, uncomfortable, unable to respond — except for Ronald Reagan. The president rose, walked over to the driver, extended his hand, breathed in, and said matter-of-factly, “Mr. Bullock, I understand you have a belt to show me?”

It was an “everyman” touch. And it put old Joe immediately at ease. Business-like, Joe showed the belt, and then he and Reagan began swapping stories, chatting away like old friends.

“The rest of us just faded away,” said Bill Clark, “as the two got along famously.” President and driver, remembering the old days.

Bullock left with a story to tell his fellow drivers, and his grandchildren. He died a few years later.

No, this anecdote is nothing dramatic. It’s not like challenging Gorbachev to tear down the wall. It’s simply another of many small stories I hear constantly about Ronald Reagan. This was a good president and a good man. The White House needs more of them. That’s a thought worth bearing in mind this February.

Requiescat in pace, Mr. Reagan. We sure do miss you.

Caturday profile

Mr. Handsome shows off his best side.

LOOK!!!

My nook has arrived!!!!!!! [happy dancing]

My first book download? One I've been waiting for for several months now... Sookie Stackhouse #9, Dead And Gone, by Charlaine Harris.

I'm going to limit myself to one actual book *purchase* per month right now, since money's tight, but there are already three freebies on my nook, and I may read through them for a while and "save up" my options for dl'ing more.

I'm also going to set up a Wish List at B&N so if any of y'all feel compelled to, you can send me a book yourself. :)

I am also going to construct a couple of covers -- one for me and one for my sister -- to fit our nooks so we can carry them safely in our purses and/or diaper bags. We could buy one, but the nicer ones are also quite expensive. Plus, there's something much more fun about a hand-made personalized one, right?

Anemia?

My cardiologist's nurse just called me with some results from my recent round of testing. I had been having weird heart flopping, so they did some lab work and a stress echocardiogram to see if they could find the reason.

Anyway, she said that my lab results indicate that I'm quite anemic. This doesn't surprise me, really; it's not unusual for people who've had some kinds of bariatric surgery. But they are going to do some extra lab workups on me to pinpoint the exact deficiencies and get me back on track. If I had to guess, it's probably a deficiency in B12 and folate. I'll post when I know more.

In the meantime, I'm much MUCH more concerned about my little daddy. He's really really struggling, healthwise, and needs your prayers. This stem-cell transplant business is a hard one, indeed. They tried to draw off some of the fluid from his abdomen yesterday and couldn't, so he's going back in on Friday and they'll do an ultrasound to try to find the main pocket of fluid. They're also going to do a biopsy on his liver. Please please please pray for him if you're so inclined. I would certainly be grateful, and so would he.