Amy’s Gripping Commentary

I took this week off work and have been pretty much lying around, still recovering from last week’s illness and also unfortunately doing some work from home. I have (not particularly intentionally) reverted to my night owl ways, staying up very late and sleeping until normal persons’ lunch times. Something about 2 a.m. just seems like a great time to start projects or settle down to watch TV to me.

After illness and work stress and just not wanting to leave the house, we decided to stay home for Thanksgiving. It’s the first time I did not eat with one of our families. It was great! Of course I missed the folks at home, but I just didn’t want to drive six hours in a day, or even to David’s family event closer to home. And get this: I made great food I was excited to eat! Being vegetarian at Thanksgiving provides a lot of side dish opportunities but is overall not the meal I used to look forward to when I was a kid. This time, I chose the menu, and holy cow I haven’t had gravy that good in years.

The mushroom and spinach galette was ok to good (NPR article/recipe); the pastry is a bit dry for my tastes but the filling has promise in another application. But the gravy recipe at that page was terrific! I suppose all the fat (olive oil) and flavor (onions, garlic, veg broth, spices) just came together in a way that reminded me of the tasty drippings of yore. Tasty, yes, but again this year I adopted a turkey instead.

David made mashed potatoes and I whipped up the standard roasted veggies for a meal so filling I didn’t have room for the pumpkin pie I also made. I’m excited about the (gravy) leftovers! I had intended to do a Quorn turk’y roast as well but Kroger was out and we had way too much food anyway.

eat more chicken vegetables graffiti, Indianapolis

Of course today was Black Friday, and while I look forward to the ads for some reason (still a holdover from a history of the expectations of the season), I’m not usually compelled to go out in the fray. This time I considered it, then figured out I could shop online and actually pay less with online discounts than going to the doorbusters at ‘o-dark-thirty. Then I went back to bed!

When we were kids, we would craft our wish lists from looking at the Sears Wish Book and any other catalogs that came to the house. We often had rating systems to indicate how badly we wanted particular gifts. I remember the moms and grandmas and aunts getting together after Thanksgiving meal to discuss who was buying what for which kid–we knew to stay out of that room so they could decide! From then until Christmas was an exciting time, and I don’t think we were too spoiled, but maybe I just think that because our cousins got more junk than we did! It was easy to think we sacrificed for the family financial good when they had new stereos and TVs in their rooms each year while we just shared a video game system two years after it was initially released. I think our families were careful to get the items we would really play with, and the anticipation of Santa and stockings and the surprise Big Presents at the end of marathon gift opening sessions all made for a pretty neat holiday–not to mention the big family meals and waiting to watch each person open something in turn rather than tearing into the pile at once.

I still really enjoy Christmas, but I try very hard not to ask for or purchase items that won’t be valued and used. I definitely take more pleasure in buying for others now and in watching what others receive. It’s relaxing not to worry whether I’ll get some new gadget because I’m now in a position to just get it myself if needed. I try not to take that for granted. And I’ll be making my own gravy this Christmas as well.

I’m anxious about a dentist appointment today, since I have a tooth root area that feels way funny and I don’t think I have the psychological stamina (nor the excellent insurance) to go through any more fancy dental work. Plus I think I had a root canal on this one anyway so I’m not sure what the problem could be that isn’t really bad! I remembered one of my favorite Sesame Street clips, though, which makes me feel better:

I just called an automated prescription refill line for my mail-in pharmacy benefit. I’ve called this line for refills many times, and while the voice actuated ordering is really annoying, usually it’s quick and, oh, automatic. So I went through the whole automated refill process, including confirming my address (which it knew) and my credit card, confirmed I didn’t want any other refills, and then it said it was connecting my call and I was on hold for ten minutes. What?? Usually they confirm immediately and ship without me talking to a CSR. This must be the cost savings from the mail-in pharmacy selling their operations to someone else. Awesome! When the CSR answered, she asked me all the same questions again, and I asked, “Why am I talking to you?”

Yesterday we held a family party for my grandparents’ 60th anniversary! It was nice to rehash the old stories. Grandma wrote Grandpa a letter which recounted how he’s not often outwardly affectionate, and gave an example of her tough day home with the kids when he came home and didn’t reassure her as much as she would have liked. She asked if he loved her, and he said, “I come home every night, don’t I?” Somehow this seemed very sweet given my gentle grandfather’s nature.

Some recent items:

Congrats to my little brother (though he’s noted as a Clydesdale, and darn it if I’m not basically Athena weight!), Matt, on completing his first triathlon last weekend. It was in downtown Indy and so far there are no reports of anyone dying after swimming the canal.

Matt’s first triathlon 08.16.09 from Amy D on Vimeo.

Friends recently invited us to Symphony on the Prairie, where we heard Queen music in an outdoor picnic setting. Drunkenness ensued. Also the guy who sounded like Freddie Mercury threw in “I’m gonna sit by you, another one rides the bus!”

Had a bunny date at my house. Rabbits who happened to be named Bill and Hillary met, and Bill humped Hillary repeatedly. She looked annoyed and went home with Waldo instead.

I grew huge ass zucchini!

And my pepper is finally turning red!

Also note we now have cabinet doors, drawer fronts, and a wine rack! David’s work slowed to a backwards crawl but at least he had time to work on his own place.

I looked away or took a phone call or something while working, and Walter apparently brought me Thing 1 for a game of fetch.

Rode my bike to the state fair this weekend. I’ve never gone and wanted to get it out of my system. The prospect of fried food overrode the sadness at some of the animals (I managed to walk into the swine building while they were being auctioned). Of course the first building I wandered into had the rabbit judging going on. Poor buns.

There were a number of bizarre sights at the fair, including middle-aged white women belly dancing in a group (I got stuck watching this because it began pouring rain and this tree kept me dry):

An awesome mullet with balding and feathering at the same time:

Suckers with their feet in nasty brown muddy water getting ‘toxins’ removed (what a freakin’ racket):

Miss America seasoning (I almost bought it but it wasn’t worth eight bucks for a joke):

And a lady playing show tunes on an organ in the middle of Pepsi Coliseum while competing horse teams trotted around her:

It was all worth it for the funnel cake, mint ice cream, and onion rings.

Even though a draft horse farted on me.

When I was young, we’d go visit my great great aunt and uncle’s farm on the west side of town. Uncle Walt and Aunt Dorothy had 80 acres, and at various times, cows, chickens, corn, a pond, an inground pool (this was the most exciting part for my brother and me at the time), dogs, woods, strawberries, you name it. They had a long dirt lane and when you drove on it, the resident dog (jobs included guard and groundhog killer) would come running to meet you.

My mom and her mom both spent lots of time at the farm when they were young. I am SO glad we got to go visit too, but I wonder what it would have been like to live there for whole summers. There are stories of using dynamite to blow up field rocks and my mom getting lost as a toddler and the dog finding her.

They lived in a creepy-cool 1850s(?) farmhouse and the upstairs, a place we rarely visited, wasn’t even vented for heat. The dirt cellar had amazing jarred veggies on old shelves. The big wraparound porch had rocking chairs and bees would visit the flowers while you sat around and talked.

The old barns were really amazing to me. I was not very adventurous and didn’t explore as much as I should have, but the falling-down old chicken coop and slatted corn sheds fascinated me. My memories don’t include the animals that lived there, since Aunt Dorothy and Uncle Walt were older by then and rented their cornfields to other farmers, but the old buildings were right there by the house as a reminder. There’s a picture somewhere, one I clearly remember, of kids bottle-feeding a calf. I remember the wooden ramp with rails where the grown cattle apparently climbed on the truck to go to slaughter. My mom said Uncle Walt would cry when they left.

Whatever happened to that world? It must have been amazing to be an American farmer through the bulk of the last century; the changes in fertilizers and yields, the move to families shopping in big grocery stores, the selling of this beautiful property in the country to be another fancy subdivision after the old farmers went off to assisted living facilities. Uncle Walt suffered from illnesses related to his life’s work, but I just remember him sitting in a recliner and telling deadpan jokes. (When asked why his dog was so spoiled, he responded with the title of this post.) Aunt Dorothy climbed on top of the shed in her 70s to paint; I remember her still liking to eat Long John Silver’s food, of all things, in her 90s, long after moving away from the farm and going deaf.

I was thinking of the farm after watching Food, Inc. last weekend with friends. Please go see it–it’s amazing what we don’t know about the food we eat and where it’s sourced. I visited a farmers’ market just before the movie, and went to another one this past weekend, but yet that’s not where the bulk of my food starts. I’m trying to take advantage of more markets this year while we are in growing season, plus we are growing more vegetables ourselves. When I stop to think about this basic thing, food, it amazes me what an industry it’s become. Now there are even concerns about ‘food security,’ whether from national perspectives or right here in my city.

Maybe it’s not helpful to idolize the old family farm in this day of WalMarts and a bigger population, but I know none of Uncle Walt’s cows stood knee deep in their own manure their whole lives, nor did his chickens live in cages the size of a sheet of paper. The unchecked growth of factory farming and seed law signals to me the dirty politics and the greedy side of capitalism that tosses aside any reasonable treatment of worker, animal, or planet.

The power of consumer dollars: a vote every time you eat.

I’m very excited about the upcoming opening of our first non-profit community grocery in a rehabbed building in an underserved part of the city: Pogue’s Run Grocer!

Bike to Work Day was a couple Fridays ago in Indy, and although I was actually on vacation, I biked-to-vacation by joining the masses who converged on the circle downtown. Then the rest of the schmucks actually had to ride to work! Ha. I rode home and drove to Tennessee for a Smokies trip.

I bought a nifty camera mount to use my little Flip video thing on my bike, but due to downright user error and low batteries, I have little to show for my experiments. I hope to post a real ride soon.

Here’s the Lilly contingent gathered on the circle.

The Star caught us getting organized in their gallery.

There was also a pic taken at Indy Cycle Specialist before we left but it doesn’t seem to be posted. Meanwhile, someone from the Indy Star interviewed a few of us and, as usual, I was quoted slightly out of context and with only the dorky movie reference included. It’s still better than the rabbits jumping around misquote, and probably better than being on TV last fall.

In the meantime, I’ve been to NJ for a conference (where I also sat in a ca.1745 church’s cemetary to read for awhile), IL to transfer rescued rabbits, the northern part of the state for the annual family holiday/race day cookout, and enjoyed my tax dollars at work at Ohio’s Air force museum and that hiking trip in the Smokies national park (which ended with an energy museum visit in Oak Ridge, but I accidentally called a sex line in Jamaica when I misread their phone number on a billboard!). Being off work is great!

Those on Facebook may be familiar with recent escapades. Here’s a summary and a few extras!

Poor David Beckham, victim of endorsing a product that can vandalize.

I finally captured this bizarre vehicle while biking. I’ve seen him around but now I know where he lives! I think he collects abandoned carts from the neighborhood.

April 7: Evacuation
April 8: Unclog sewer pipe
April 10: Are four gin & tonics a lot?
April 11: Pissed about working on a Saturday during my vacation
April 12: Beat the pants off my family at Scrabble
April 13: Finished state taxes and had an embarrassing exam
April 15: Ate all the peanut M&Ms in cubicle next to mine
April 17: Rode bike to work and saw red-headed woodpecker, Christmas tree w/tinsel, middle-aged guy in fedora on BMX
April 17: Went out drinkin’ with friends and then bought cigarettes for the first time
April 18: Rode my bike to Race for the Cure
April 20: Busch Light can in my newspaper tube
April 21: Work woke me up at 1 a.m.
April 23: Casper won a photo contest
April 24: Work woke me up at 3 a.m.
April 24: Some asswipe broke into my Jeep
April 25: Rode my bike to Earth Day
April 25: Appraisal woes and bought a refrigerator
April 25: Someone stole my credit card number
April 26: Mutt Strut! Pics to come but this is my favorite:

April 28: Frustrated by canceling services and realizing property taxes are worse than I thought
April 28: Someone shit in our driveway
April 29: Sold my house! Still pissed about taxes
Next few days: Slammed at work and given an ‘opportunity’ (that means more work)
May 2: ToxDrop and electronics recycling
May 3: Insulated the attic

Don’t you want to be my friend now? My favorite FB comments had to do with the shit in the driveway.

I gave blood tonight in my hand-me-down Speed Racer shirt (funny how last year’s entry also focused on the outfit), the third time being the charm after failing the iron requirement twice in the last few weeks. I’m at 39% hematocrit now, baby! A couple of vitamins and a couple extra weeks must be the ticket for me. It really was Speed Bleeding because I think I set a personal record with my six-minute pint time. This is much better than the time they kicked me out after half an hour having not produced enough blood in the bag.

Want to save three lives and maybe win a gift card or a resort stay in Florida? You can enter Manic Mommy’s contest too! Just give blood by the 28th and get your picture doing it.

In other scintillating news (would you believe we get to use a variant of that word a lot at work), Casper came home all dopey from the groomer with a bandanna AND a bow.

And, showing off my new haircut and the cool sweater my mom made me (twice), we have this not particularly flattering picture of my apparently thick midsection (I swear it’s not).

I joined Facebook a month ago and have unearthed over 100 people I know, most of whom I haven’t seen in forever. I never realized I knew so many people. It’s been fun to catch up with old camp and boarding school friends. A few friend requests, however, have come to my inbox with me wondering who the people are. I generally figure it out but this one stumped me, so I asked my brother. I didn’t recognize her picture but she had a similar first name to a friend I did have in our neighborhood and would like to chat with again. Many last names have changed with marriage so I have to think hard about these folks sometimes. Note: I changed the friend names for this entry.

Email from Facebook:
Sally Martin added you as a friend on Facebook. We need to confirm that you know Sally in order for you to be friends on Facebook.

Sally says, “Hi Amy, I used to live in Bercliff. My parents still do. I used to ride bikes with your little brother Matt, and i went to Adams.”.

Amy emails Matt:
Do you know who this is? I don’t think it’s Ms. Barton…

Matt replies:
Yeah, it’s Sally Crump. They lived on Wildemere and had the dog with the ridiculously “original” name Blackie. She sent me a friend request as well. I didn’t approve it because I don’t like approving people I don’t really know and/or don’t want to know any better.

I have a list of friend requests out the wazoo that I don’t approve because they were people that I went to high school with, but never spoke to, etc.

Besides, Sally Crump and her younger sister used to knock on our door twice a week to ask me to go bike riding, but I thought they were creepy so I always made an excuse. Then one day they started asking to use our bathroom after I turned them down for a bike ride (presumably to get a look inside our house. I mean, seriously, their house was only 2 blocks away.) That made Dad really mad and after about the third bathroom excursion he told me to tell them to… and I quote.. “Go pee at home.”

Anyway, I have no interest in being “friends” (Facebook or otherwise) with people I don’t intend to fraternize with. To me it’s just another version of “peeing in my house” for Sally Crump because I’m probably not going to talk to her on Facebook, but she’ll be able to see everything I write and look at pictures of me and stuff. She can “pee” on her other Facebook friends, but not me!

Heck, you’re lucky I approved you as a friend on Facebook!

-Matt

Welcome to the new year and a snotty nose. I have been sick for nearly a week. Fortunately I didn’t have to go to work during this time, but it’s not like I got to enjoy many of the days off–plus work kept calling and paging me anyway. I did see a lot of crappy TV when I wasn’t knocked out with Nyquil (who knew Tori Spelling had a reality show, or that there was a lobster-catching show as well as the crab-catching show?), and today my aches had declined sufficiently to leave the house for a veggie burger at Denny’s. I thought I was on the mend a couple of days ago and met Nicole at the gym and then for a nice dinner, but whoops, I wasn’t so well. Even David got part of the sickness.

My exciting purchase this week is a new office chair, which I’m not sitting in because we’ve been too ill to carry it downstairs. I’m excited about it because it met all my ergonomic requirements (I don’t take that stuff for granted anymore… I guess I’m old) AND it’s 60% recycled AND it’s not leather! Awesome. AND I had an awesome coupon! I even paid eight bucks to have them assemble it for me because I just didn’t feel like doing it. I must have arrived at wealthy status, because the old Amy would never have paid someone to do what she can do herself. Now if it were twenty bucks that would have been different.

Right after I spent too much on a chair, our microwave died. I no longer find the microwave to be super essential (meaning buy it the same day it dies) but it’s still pretty essential (within a couple of weeks). David has hated my microwave from the start, he being a person who probably wouldn’t have one if I hadn’t brought it with me, but we agree it’s nice to have. The discussions now are where it will go–in the wall? Over the stove? We have to know these things so we know what microwave to buy. But I’m just pissed that my microwave died after only two 3.5 years (yes, I looked it up…time sure flies). I thought I bought a fancy 1200-Watt unit so it would last (maybe not as long as the twenty years the previous one lasted, but still), and here we are having to decide about an appliance together. Are we ready for this kind of commitment, people!?

Guess who’s 30 today?

My baby brother!

My brother and I used to watch this Disney cartoon when we were kids. We’d rewind the wolf falling noise over and over (and the noise the old lady made in Lewis’ apartment building in Ghostbusters). I was singing “Casper, the stinky doggie” to the Lambert tune a few minutes ago and thought I’d see if I could find the cartoon!

We had a family poker party (though I played Perquackey instead) this weekend for Great Grandpa’s 100th birthday. Of course he’s been gone five years but we met in his memory. My poor aunt ordered a Happy 100th Birthday, Grandpa cake and everyone at the grocery store kept asking her how he was doing! She said it was really awkward but it was pretty funny to us. The post title is something he used to say when another driver honked at him.

I neglected to take any pictures until right before I left. Maddux is staying with Lucy while the kitchen at his house is being remodeled.

Last week we got together with KNH’s family for a comparison of two turkey substitutes. Here we have a Celebration Roast (lower left side of plate), a Quorn Turk’y Roast (center), and our yummy side dishes. The Celebration Roast is more of a hearty grain-based meal that isn’t supposed to approximate meat taste specifically but still have good texture and flavor, while the Quorn version was very meatlike but dry. We decided gravy would have been a good addition but it was a school night and we just didn’t have much time to cook. We did manage to drink a lot of wine, however.

And we had PIE! The whipped topping being the most important part.

My great grandfather would have turned 100 today. I happened to find this picture last week and was confused when the birthdate on the back was listed as 12-03-08. That was 1908!

The back says:

Donald V. Carpenter
12-03-08 – 5-16-03

In September of 2000 at the Kentucky Speedway he rode in a NASCAR race car. He went four laps at 170 MPH. He was almost 92 years old and the oldest person ever to take a ride from the national company of Richard Petty.

Grandpa Carpenter was always a funny guy, though his life wasn’t always easy. He used to tell stories about growing up around where we lived. Lover’s Lane was where my parents’ house ended up being built and he and his buddies would put red handkerchiefs over their headlights so the necking kids would think the police had pulled up behind them, and then they’d throw water balloons at them in their Model Ts. He recorded his stories to cassette tapes and I imagine them in some recorded history museum sometime.

I think it was Great Grandpa who once bet a family member that he could throw a hat up in the air and shoot a hole in it. My grandpa (his son-in-law) was the unlucky taker of this bet. Someone threw the hat in the air, and he followed its trajectory with his gun, including as it fell to the ground. After it landed he shot a hole in it and won the bet.

He was a baker and his brownies won the Pillsbury Bake Off for professional bakers one year when I was a kid.

I remember four-generation sledding parties for our birthdays with him riding down the hill when he was 77. It was the same hill he had sledded on when he was a kid.

In later years, Grandpa Carpenter was in an assisted living facility. It was called Shamrock Place but he called it The Rock. He loved to have visitors and to go for rides on the St. Joe River in my dad’s boat. We had poker parties for his birthday every year (and they have continued in his memory!).

We miss you, Grandpa Carpenter!

Today is David’s birthday! Unfortunately one planned gift didn’t pan out and now I have nothing for him. The pleasure of living with me ought to be enough, right?

David wrestles with Walt, who pretends to eat us on a regular basis. After being a stray puppy he lived with a Rottie and a Doberman and they taught him all about fun play with a soft bite, so it’s actually pretty entertaining to fight with him. Of course sometimes he just ambushes you, especially when walking in the yard, so you have to be on your toes.

Love of dogs definitely played into David and I getting along so well from the beginning. Dogs and politics are probably the only major similarities we have, though (I’m trying not to count inattention to an immaculate household here too). I’m not mechanically inclined, but he can make or fix about anything. He’s also good at breaking stuff. His trade is roughly trim carpentry, hence the lovely custom cabinets surrounding the fridge submission below. Lacking money and time, though, means the face frames and doors have not yet been built! He does most aspects of remodeling so this relatively crummy bungalow now sports real wainscoting, slate and travertine floors and walls, a finished basement, a privacy fence put together with pocket holes, and even strange security measures like a blue LED that comes on at the back door if any of the gates are left open. That is pretty handy for the dogs but may have been a bigger pain to install than the excitement about this idea compensated.

David is also an excellent pianist and even got his degree in music, which is why he’s a contractor. While I did fine at violin when I was a kid, I certainly don’t have a tenth of the natural talent David does. I don’t get how someone can listen to something and just bang it out without sheet music. He also sings well, something I certainly can’t claim. Someday I’d love to buy him a baby grand, but it won’t be this birthday. Nor would it fit in this tiny house.

I’m sure you can see why our freezer space stresses me out. We need a new fridge, but I know people get by with small ones. It’s just the American Dream, as Dad would say, to have a giant fridge. So do we really need one? I can’t justify the purchase but I won’t say if this one died I would be all that sad about getting a bigger Energy Star replacement. Can’t beat a free refrigerator, though.

Last year I was part of the Fridge Friday group on NaBloPoMo. I think it’s defunct this year but I was inspired by the mass quantities of margarine in my parents’ fridge when I visited this past weekend.

Okay, Parents: account for yourselves.