The numbers game

I'm feeling a little joyous today... I've lost just over 20 pounds since the beginning of the year. It feels like it's coming off so slowly, but we are told that that is the healthiest way to do it.

Since January Gabi and I have been counting every single calorie we eat. We have a food journal that we keep, and by doing it together we've kept each other honest and motivated. She's lost a lot of weight too, so the process is getting us both healthier.

Calorie counting is something that I resisted for years. I just would not go there. Finally, however, the time was right and for whatever reason I was willing to start. It's been illuminating. The most amazing part had been just realizing how many calories are in certain foods. For example, I'd always pretty much figured that a hamburger and fries would have lots of calories. No big surprise there. A whole day's worth of calories gobbled up in one meal.

But did you realized that there are 500 calories in the cinnamon chip scones that you can get at Caribou coffee?

I used to eat one of those every week or two. I just assumed it was okay, I mean, it's just bread, right? But no, I'd have to walk for over two hours to burn off the calories from just one scone. I haven't had one since I made this discovery.

Another consequence of my number obsession is that I'm not just eating better food vis-a-vis nutrition, I'm eating better tasting food as well. If I'm going to eat it, then it's got to past the is it worth the calories? test. Lots of things don't pass the test. Store-bought cakes and muffins? Nope. Fast food burgers? Nada.

If I'm going to let myself indulge, I'm going for the best I can get. I found the most exquisite, small-batch cheese at Byerly's a couple of weeks ago. Intense, nutty, tangy. Just a little piece is heavenly, and makes it easy to pass up mass-produced cheddar. When we were really craving burgers and fries, we went to Granite City Brewery for their bleu cheese burgers and waffle fries, and we split an order. Really good.

One other good thing I've discovered, a small glass of red wine is only about 75 calories, and so it's easy to "make room" for that once or twice a week. It's a small but pleasant indulgence. And since we've discovered Our Daily Red organic wine, I can drink it without getting sick.

All to the good.

BSG Humor

The huns invade ~ and are beaten back

Yesterday we spent gardening. We planted our containers for the south patio: tomatoes, peppers, and two mint pots. One is the mojito pot (spearmint and peppermint) and one is the tea pot (chocolate, ginger and lemon mints). Actually, I'm thinking that the ginger mint might make a very tasty mojito as well. We also began the process of dividing the sidewalk bed. The iris and stella d'oro daylilies in that bed are hugely overgrown, and I want to make room for more different perennial varieties. We did the small section yesterday, and it took three hours and two Advil. I had forgotten just how much muscle it takes to break apart a big daylily. It could be an Olympic sport.

The first third of the sidewalk bed ~ daylilies freshly divided and ill-mannered varieties pulled out roots and all.

We also ripped out every last bit of a couple of other varieties that I foolishly brought into the garden. There are some plants that should come with warning labels. Biennial campanulas and false dragonhead. Horrible things. The campanulas, at least, are lovely when they bloom. But each plant makes ten kazillion teeny tiny seeds that spread everywhere. First-year growth forms a dense mat that overwhelms all but the sturdiest plants (think asiatic lilies). Then after the second year's bloom it all dies off, leaving empty spaces as it mats up and takes over another neighbor. Truly a horrible border plant. The false dragonhead is almost as bad ~ it sends out runners and invades neighboring plants as well. But it doesn't clump, it just pops up here and there the way dandelions do (though dandelions are easier to remove and, frankly, prettier as well).

Biennial Campanula ~ a small clump, but getting ready to bloom. It would be lovely if it had a whole field to plunder, but it's not such a good plant for a small border.

I wish garden tags came with this kind of information. Along with sun/shade requirements, climate zone, water needs, couldn't they also say something about whether the plant plays well with others? Flower gardening is always a matter of crowd-control, at least to a certain extent. But some varieties really take it to the extreme.

Whirl-a-weekend

I had such a great weekend ~ far too entertaining to pause in the midst of it and blog. It is that time of year, however, when I want to spend all my time outside. Kayaking, playing in the dirt, going for walks, just sitting on the patio watching birds splash in the fountain... anything and everything. I didn't read a thing all weekend. Barely watched t.v. (excepting, of course, for Battlestar Galactica), didn't want to cook, absolutely no interest in the computer... ah what bliss.

Friday, for my birthday, seven of us went to a new restaurant in town... Mi Famiglia. The ambiance is so elegantly swanky. We did not go for dinner, no, we went for cocktails and desserts. We ordered seven different desserts and then shared them all. The best part: each dessert came with a candle in it, and we lit all the candles. Then my friends held them all up for me to blow out after singing Happy Birthday. Very, very fun. We stayed three hours. Laughed ourselves silly.

Saturday, we had the family birthday party. We loaded up the nephews and niece, along with Gabi's brother and mom, and all headed out to Lake Maria State Park. We took the kayaks, although it was too windy for the boys to venture far from shore. I took a tour of the lake and saw blue and green herons, deer, turtles and lots of pelicans. Also had a couple (only) swells come over the side of the kayak when I was on the far side of the lake where the wind/wave momentum had some time to build. Thank goodness for the skirt! I was still soaked. But it was very fun.


(green heron pic from 10000birds.com)

After picnicking and kayaking we loaded up and went to another part of the park where we hiked out to a more secluded little lake. It was mating time for the toads, and their chorus was incredibly loud. The kids spent about 45 minutes investigating and catching toads before we walked back. I think we all were exhausted by the time we got home.

Sunday was cold and rainy, and we spent the day cleaning house and grading tests and homework. Gabi needed to get a huge pile of work done so that she could post grades today ~ and so certain kids would have the time, should they also have the inclination, to rescue their grades before the end of the year.

We had an amazing hail storm on Sunday. Fortunately, there aren't too many flowers out right now (the garden is about 10 days behind schedule). The only hail damage we found is some torn daylily leaves. Most of the hail was nickel or dime sized, although there were a few that were much bigger. After the hail came an impressive rainstorm. Dumped about 1/2 an inch of rain in a matter of minutes. Thank goodness, however, that we were spared the tornadoes. I've watched news footage of Hugo, MN and, as always, am dumbfounded by the devastation they bring.






Fortunately the iris buds are still tight ~ no damage from the hail.

Cheers, California

I was so excited yesterday to see the news that California’s Supreme Court ruled that same-sex couples should have equal protection under the law – i.e. be able to be legally married. It made me so happy I wanted to dance around the library.

As goes California, so goes the rest of the country, eventually.

Just as important, on the other side of the nation New York’s Appellate Court ruled earlier this year that even though same-sex couples could not legally be married in New York, the state was obliged to recognize legal unions performed in other states or countries.

Together, these two decisions show an unmistakable trend toward fairness and equality, and they leave me thrilled and hopeful.

Gabi and I were married eleven years ago – in a church, in front of family and friends. Gabi even wore a dress and heels. And, we borrowed from the Quaker tradition and made our own marriage certificate. It lists our names and our parents’ names and then states that Gabi and I,

“having declared their intention of marriage with each other, were so married with the love and support of their many friends, meeting on this Nineteenth day of July in the year Nineteen Hundred Ninety Seven in a meeting of worship at the Unitarian Universalist Fellowship called for the purpose of marriage. On this joyful occasion in the presence of family and friends, they took each other to be partners, promising to be loving and faithful to one another as long as they both shall live.”

We each signed it, Peg, our minister, signed it, and then every other person present in the church signed it. Forty seven signatures in all. That ought to count for something, don’t you think?

But, of course, our very special piece of paper is not the same as that other, legal piece of paper that heterosexual couples can get at the courthouse.

So much depends on that piece of paper.

We spend thousands of dollars a year for me to have lesser-quality, individual medical insurance, because we don’t have that piece of paper.

We spent hundreds of dollar for wills, powers of attorney and other legal documents to protect each other and our home, because we don’t have that piece of paper.

Should our relationship continue to go legally unrecognized until one of us passes away, the other will lose thousands of dollars in social security benefits, because we don’t have that piece of paper. I could go on. Project 515, a Minnesota non-profit, has identified 515 separate “state statutes that provide rights and responsibilities based on the legal definition of marriage.” The list covers laws pertaining to everything from health insurance to adoption rights to banking and financial legalities.

Of course this all makes “marriage” sound like more of an economic and business arrangement instead of a love bond. But, let’s face it, that’s what legal marriage has been, since Biblical times when marriage was about cementing ties between families and ensuring paternal privileges. No couple, gay or straight, needs a piece of paper to make a commitment to each other. That piece of paper has nothing to do with how two people feel about each other, or the lengths they are willing to go to to make a home and family together. The only thing that paper stands for is a recognition of what the state and society are willing to do to help them keep their commitments to each other.

Somewhere recently I read an article that stated that marriage rates in the US have increased as health care premiums have risen, as (heterosexual!) people have decided that tying the knot would save them a mortgages’ worth of health insurance premiums and deductibles in the long run.

Well, how fortunate for them that they have that option!

No one, no politician, no pundit, no preacher, can tell me that I am not married. Gabi and I made our vows to each other and we have kept them. We’ve made a good life together, filled our homes with love and peace and many friends and family to enjoy it with us, we’ve stood by each other through trials and illnesses, and here we are, stronger every day. This is marriage.

But yes, this country and this world are set up to confer certain unmistakable benefits to those who have that special, special piece of signed and dated paper. And I damned well want that too.

So, cheers California! A toast to you (and your predominately Republican Supreme Court!!).

We may well be coming to visit you this summer.

The Queen of Beef Stew

Again this morning I found myself loading up the big crock pot with five pounds of chunked beef and two pounds of sweet potatoes, Cleo twining herself around my legs while Rosie sat politely but expectantly on the bookshelf by the kitchen window, watching, watching.

Before I started making their food, they thought of my cooking as little more than tantalizing scents, heavy with spices and garlic, and they stood in the doorway or slept on the bookcase, present but not particularly attentive. They understood the difference between PeopleFood and CatFood. More importantly, they had manners and understood that while they could have all the latter they wanted, the former was completely off limits. No begging allowed.

Now that I am Queen of Beef Stew and CatFood comes from the very same stove and fridge as PeopleFood, the line between the two has blurred and my every entrance into the kitchen is an Event. We still have the “no begging” conversation, and Cleo, bless her heart, tries to remember. I can see her little cat brain trying to restrain the furry gray rest of her. She looks up at me, worshipping, and I swear I can hear her thinking, I know you don’t want to be bothered right now but oh gaud that smells so good I love beef you know I wouldn’t bother you except it's been only an hour or two since breakfast and I’m really really starving. Please?

To which, like any goddess, I boot her gently away from my feet and carry on with my chores.

Our friends are often stunned and curious when they learn that I cook for the cats. Understand, please, this was a last ditch effort to heal our beloved Cleo. Rosie has demonstrated quite convincingly that she could live on anything: chicken kibble, fish kibble, dust bunnies, rubber bands. It’s all the same in that vacuum-sealed space that passes for her brain.

But Cleo has always been, to put it mildly, sensitive. She’s terrified of children, although thunderstorms don’t faze her. She’s very gentle and quiet unless badly spooked, whereupon she can turn in a nanosecond into a screeching, lashing, scratching bundle of terror. And then, almost without fail, she pees all over herself. She has to be sedated to visit the vet, and still complains endlessly and looks like some drugged-out refugee from a specially designed veterinary concentration camp.

And, lastly, give her food that doesn’t agree with her and she will quite literally very nearly puke herself to death. We have vet bills to prove it.

The list of foods that don’t agree with her is long: chicken, rice, corn, beef liver, spider plants.

Now, it’s easy enough to find pre-made food without chlorophytum comosum, but chicken, rice and corn are another matter entirely.

A year ago, Cleo had been getting progressively sicker, throwing up so violently and spontaneously that she was helpless to even move once the fits came over her. She threw up on the bed, couches, anything. She threw up every bit of food in her belly and when her stomach was empty she threw up blood. Over and over. We barred her from our bedroom when we were gone and kept the couches covered at all times, watched TV or slept with one ear half-cocked for the awful sound of her retching. We saw the vet and asked him about it, half sick ourselves with the fear that it was cancer or a tumor and we would have to put our cherished little cat down. Instead he just shook his head and said, “Does she lick her sides and tail like she’s itching or has gas?”

“Well yes,” we replied, “but she’s done that all her life.”

He nodded. “Food allergies. They get worse as cats age. Change her diet.”

Obediently, we started reading labels even more carefully on bags of cat food (we’d already been paying good money for the best, healthiest food we could find). Everything had something we didn’t want her to eat. So I went to the library and started researching.

And so began my reign as Queen of Beef Stew, Duchess of Salmon Casserole, Grand Lady of the Lamb Indulgence.

Last night as I dished out their food and noted that there was only one meal’s worth left, I told Gabi that I was getting tired of making all their food. Perhaps it was time to look for a pre-made food, one that was chicken and grain free and also free of artificial colors, flavors and fillers. In other words, something made with just as much care and consideration as I put into their every meal.

But today, after our little love-fest this morning, it doesn’t feel so much like a chore. We will need to find a pre-made food for them, if only to augment their stews during the two-week vacation we’re planning for this summer. But for now, the crock pot is full, the cats are sleeping contentedly, and a fine drizzle is falling on the growing plants in the garden. This is what I do, this is my life as lived, and it’s all very good.

Cinco de Mayo yum

We are incredibly fortunate to live close to a wonderful store called Manea's Meats in Sauk Rapids. They make an amazing assortment of chicken sausages ~ pure bliss for those of us trying to keep kosher in mid-Minnesota. A couple of days ago we picked up some chicken chorizo, and I was so excited about it that I had to make something really good. I came up with this recipe for dinner last night - very, very tasty and a dinner sized serving is only about 500 calories. Happy me.

Obviously, not everyone can find chicken chorizo, so use the regular pork/beef if you must, but it will be much fattier and higher calorie.

Chorizo Dirty Rice

1 cup low-sodium chicken broth
1/2 cup water
1 cup long-grain brown rice
1 pound bulk chicken chorizo
1 large sweet onion, chopped
1/2 green pepper, chopped
1 sweet red pepper, chopped
1 clove garlic, minced
1 can black beans, drained and rinsed

1. Bring broth and water to boil, add rice. Cover and simmer for 40 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, brown chorizo in a large skillet. Drain fat if necessary. Add chopped vegetables and saute until onions are tender but peppers still have a bit of crispness. Remove from heat and add beans.

3. When rice is cooked, add to meat/vegi mixture and stir well. Reheat if necessary and serve immediately. Makes 4 main dish servings.

Joy, bliss and lots of water

It was, as my lovely Gabi said, a weekend largely devoted to water. First, we hooked up the four rainbarrels purchased last week to the gutters installed two years ago...

We may not get our chores done speedily, but we do get them done, eventually.

First off, I must say how happy we were on Saturday morning to look outside and see sunshine instead of snow! Yes, the weather predictors had been saying, "The snow is coming the snow is coming" all week, and we were believers. Instead, we we were greeted by sunshine and temperatures speeding all the way up to the high fifties... yes, there's some sarcasm there. Still, a lovely day. We spent the afternoon fixing up the rainbarrels, and all was well and good in the world.

Sunday was simply beautiful. The first miniature iris were budding, lots of sun, the lawns turning malachite green. New growth is such a stunning color this time of year. It takes your breath away.

I bought some pansies and potted them up for the front and back steps. So cheerful to come home to.

In the afternoon we were took the kayaks out to St. John's University and Lake Saga-somethingunpronouncable. It was great. The wind was up a little, but not enough for whitecaps. Just some fun waves to bounce over the front of the boats. The water was frigid, but with our big, strange-looking skirts on the kayaks we stayed dry and warm.

Best was venturing into the little pond-like areas around the lake that are inaccessible for most of the year. However, yesterday the water lilies were still a foot below the surface and the water is still high enough that we explored further than we ever have before. We found a second beaver dam (old and abandoned, by the look of it). We saw dozens of turtles sunning themselves -- they're very easy to spot this time of year because they are a deep dark green but the watergrasses are still brown. In a month they'll be virtually invisible.

As always, we saw many varieties of birds at Lake Sag. Common loons, two kinds of chickadees, ducks, geese, goldfinches, kingfishers... and an eagle on our way home.

We also saw (and heard) a herd of 15 deer, does and fawns. They were incredibly noisy running across last year's dropped leaves.

So, yes, proof positive that winter is over.