Now what?!

So, yesterday started out so nicely… This was the first evening I was able to sleep though the evening with no opiate pain pill’s assistance. This is a big thing for me as addictive personalities tend to run in my family. So far, chocolate seems to be my main problem but I didn’t want to take any chances so I weaned myself off the Percoset. Hurrah for moi!

Then, as an extra special treat, ooh ah, the spouse took me to the store so I could explain fresh as opposed to frozen veggies to him. – I may not like veggies but I am Velma’s daughter( MS. always eat fresh and , if possible, raw ) It was so nice to have a change of scenery and I got to talk to a slightly odd but nice man in produce while himself wandered the rest of the store. One side note here about the saint. He is the best, most patient nurse ever but a good conversationalist he is not. So not only did I speak with slightly odd man yesterday but also to my friend’s husband on the phone for an hour. I am kinda starved for conversation.

So the one thing I noticed yesterday was that I had a nasty pain in my upper right back, under the shoulder blade. I had assumed that I had slept on my back funny but as the day progressed it started to get sharper and sharper regardless of icing or heating the area. I couldn’t breathe in deeply without sharp shooting pains and I had really, really bad heartburn. Initially Ms hypochondriac thought she might have a blood clot traveling around, but the all knowing net didn’t seem to support this as the pains should be on my left side. So then, I started to think about it. I had just gone off my opiates which were probably masking the rib pain and I was so freaked out by THE FOOT that nothing else registered in those days. I’m now thinking that I probably cracked a rib in my fall based purely on the evidence that strapping up that section of the rib cage seems to have helped. It still hurts like a house on fire but it is more manageable by now.

Himself wants me to go have it X-rayed but , as far as I can tell, they don’t do much other than send you home with ibuprofen or Tylenol. I’m already taking the Tylenol and, to be quite frank, after my experiences in the emergency room I refuse to go back unless I’m unconscious.

On the plus side, the heartburn has been so bad I don’t feel like eating. I’m hoping this will help me not gain more weight than I can help while THE FOOT heals. Generally though not the type of weight loss method I’d recommend. I am also kind of hoping that I don’t have another body part that becomes its own entity. After all who want both THE FOOT and THE RIB to rule their lives?

But you'll get so much reading done...

So, I’ve been getting a lot of “staying home isn’t so bad, you’ll get so much reading done…” . On paper as it were, yes this is absolutely true. I love to read, I always bemoan the fact that I don’t have enough time to do it, I’m a captive audience of one, I’ve been imprisoned in my home library and yet… For the first several days I couldn’t concentrate on anything, I read a whole 15 pages in three days. I was too busy worrying about how big the bill was going to be, who was going to pay etc. I was also busy calling my HR department, the disability insurance folks and so on.

Then, after the initial set of worries, I invented others. Yes my husband will tell you I can worry about anything. However things have calmed down a little bit and now I have started reading. Things are still not exactly paradise. I seem to become so easily distracted. I dunno, it could be due to the fact that THE FOOT, alternates between feeling like I have a hundred very small bees in the cast, to having a red hot vice clamped down on my heel. Sadly THE FOOT seems to prefer watching John Stewart on Hulu. It finds itself more easily distracted by the folly that is American politics. So we’ll see if I can actually finish off my fifteen books by the end of August. So far it isn’t looking good. I got five read before the accident and another r one is almost done but that leaves seven to go in two weeks. I’m thinking of forgiving myself though and resetting the clock once THE FOOT behaves itself again.

On the plus side, Miss Scaredy pants “I’m gonna fall again” made it from her walker, to the wheelchair without killing herself. Motivation – fear that my mother in law would see the vast balls of cat hair rolling through the house. German Hausfrau obviously took over from Miss Scaredy pants just long enough to Swiffer the floors from the wheelchair. Huzzah!

Stay tuned – Can German Hausfrau keep it up, will Miss Scaredy pants be vanquished? whoops THE FOOT also just reminded me that it can do sharp dagger needles of pain too!

It really is all about the cat

Obviously this was brought home with Me, the cat, in mind. ALmost as good as that snazzy white perch at the end of my mom's leg

My broken ankle - what I took for granted

Before I write anything else I want to send out my deepest and most profound apologies to my mother. I used to become impatient with her after her surgery when she’d tell me how difficult it was to reach the restroom. After all, she had her walker, she was good at using it, so what was the problem. Mom, I now know what you are talking about and I’m so sorry I was so short with you.

My instructions are to have no weight bearing weight on my left leg for 8 weeks. I have interpreted this as thy leg shall not touch the floor, ever. So the first thing I used to take for granted was a quick in and out in ye old powder room. Anyone else who has had major surgery will understand this. No one else on the net has mentioned this but…

For the first three days of my break I was on crutches. I have a somewhat low toilet seat. It was literally impossibly for me to lower down and control the crutches at the same time so my husband and I came up with a cirque d’ absurd routine to compensate. I’d hobble halfway into the bathroom, he’d follow behind to make sure I didn’t fall; he’d then grab a kitchen chair and contort around me and the crutches to place the chair next to the toilet. He’d grab the back of the chair and I’d then ease on down and over. We then had the “dignity clause” wherein he would leave, I’d do my thing and then have him come back, hold the chair again and I’d ease back on over. I’d then get back up on the crutches and lurch back over to the bed. I told him there’d be no way for him to go back to work if I had to stay on those crutches

Thank heavens, I now have a walker and it is so much easier to get over and back on my own. I do have to use the towel rack to steady myself so I send a little prayer to the local bathroom appliance deity that the brackets will hold on pretty much a daily basis. I’ve also allowed my foot to touch the floor as I slide down which makes things easier.

I also miss actually being able to carry things. Hands must be on the walker at all times so I cannot do something as simple as grab a glass of water. No big deal until you realize you really need it, like I did last night. My leg really started to throb at about 1:30 a.m. I fumble around get the right pain med and then realize I don’t have a glass – no way am I going to wake up Mark, who is utterly exhausted and who is in another room. But hark; do I hear the therapy cat hacking up a hairball next to the spouse? I do. Mark has been attuned into instant wakefulness for years to the sound of hairballs so up he gets. Huzzah, I then legitimately feel I can yell for some water. Had it not been for therapy cat though I would have been in trouble.

And finally, I miss being able to put on garments with no problem. I’ve been wearing oversized t-shirts and granny panties for ease of on and off. Yesterday Mark took me out into the backyard in the chair and I realized I really should either have what they used to call a bed rug on or contorted into a pair of pants. Fortune smiled though and the neighbors were not at home to see my lower extremities.

So you broke your ankle, what's that like?

So, ta da, I broke my ankle. News flash kids, Do not try this - it is not fun. For those of you who don’t already know the story, I and a co-worker were taking some “accompanying materials” to a Spanish textbook “accion” over to her new supervisor. (Note the irony in accion =action) There were eight books in total, just enough for them to be too heavy for her to carry on her own, so we each took 4, a very manageable load. I volunteered to help her carry them from my library over to her supervisor’s desk. We started down the stairs and I was conversing with her about a recent gift we had received when my foot slipped out from under me. I don’t think I fell more than four steps but evidently it was enough. I heard a snap and knew I’d broken something. (A side note here, everyone kept saying that maybe it was just a sprain but, trust me on this, you know when something is broken) I told my poor co-worker to go get my boss while I propped myself up on the landing. A very nice gal came and called 911 as did a co-worker. Many nice firemen and EMTs then came and took me over to the hospital. After three sets of x-rays and two reductions of my ankle I was sent home from the ER and was told I’d have surgery.

An ankle reduction BTW sounds so harmless but it is where they splint your ankle, which involves plaster of paris and lots of squeezing of the ankle (lots of squeezing and being told to relax while they seemingly smash the bones back together. Dude this hurts , you relax).

Initially the ER doc seemed surprised that I didn’t want any painkillers but honestly, initially the ankle didn’t hurt. Come time for the second reduction though, The orthopedist asked if he could put lidocaine in my ankle and I said yes please. Now for anyone, and I mean anyone to get near me with a needle and ask to insert aforesaid needle, normally the answer would be a polite but firm no thank you. That I said yes was an indicator that yes, the pain or fear thereof had ratcheted up just a notch.

So the waiting commenced, I was told I’d be on the waitlist for surgery for Thursday so, in the meanwhile, I started calling my HR department ,OHC, the workers comp insurance folks etc. Workers comp assured me I was authorized to have the surgery. I also phoned the surgeons office to let them know this.

On Thursday we wait, and wait, and wait, until I am almost in despair but are told to finally come in. Now getting out of Mark’s truck when we came home from emergency and getting back into the truck to go to the hospital is quite some feat. They gave me crutches at the emergency room but I didn’t feel comfortable using them on the stairs so, and to this day I don’t know how I did this, I managed to get out of Mark’s truck and unto my butt and then slithered into the front door. I got on a rug and Mark dragged me to the bathroom. I then sat on the tub and was able to use the crutches from there.

In reverse, to go back to the hospital I then had to slither on my butt down concrete which must have had a temp of 90 degrees., have Mark set up a chair, haul me into the chair and then from there I was able to get into the truck. If I have one piece of advice for anyone, please make sure your transport is a sedan and not a truck.

Another side note – DO NOT give crutches to someone with a broken ankle and who may/may not be on drugs. They are not stable, you have tons of weight you are trying to hold up on one by trying to keep the one leg from touching the floor and balancing on another leg which gets fatigued pretty darn quick. Their primary use, as far as I can determine, is holding them in front of you while you are in a wheelchair and using them as a battering ram to keep people away from your foot. Trust me a foot in a cast is the equivalent of a light and a moth. People will veer toward your foot.

Finally got into surgery and, thank goodness, it is a success. I get an overnight stay and then home on Friday – Night nurses, bless them, are the most fabulous creatures ever. I loved my nurse and want to adopt her.

Now comes the reality of living with a broken ankle and reality seems to equal fear.

I’m afraid I’m somehow going to get stuck with a huge hospital bill even though it is should be covered. Due to some statements made at admissions I’m really, really scared about this.

I’m afraid I’m going to fall and rebreak the ankle and have to do all this all over again. It’s not the pain I fear so much as it is the inconvenience

The odd thing about a broken ankle is, while there is a lot of discomfort and some pain, it is not the worst pain I’ve ever felt. When I stabbed myself in the butt with my sewing scissors, that was pain! It is almost impossible to do anything on one leg though, when the other leg has what feels like a 30lb cast on it (Mark tells me it is more like 10/15 lbs) It is such a drag not being able to casually walk from one room of the house to another.

I’m afraid my primary caregiver, Saint Mark, is going to snap, and run away from home.

I’m afraid of how helpless I really am. I can barely manage using the facilities without help. I cannot open cupboards or the fridge, my window, or turn on/off my lights as hands must be on the walker at all times.

I’m afraid I’m going to yell at my very elderly cat who thinks she is helping me by sleeping on my bladder all the time.

I’m afraid that the one perceived upside, i.e. I will get lots of appliqué and reading done, will turn out no to be true and I’ll be more behind than ever on my projects.

I’m afraid of stupid things, like the fact that, I’d finally gotten pigeon pose down and was this close to being able to do hero pose. Actually, I’m more pissed about this. I get my exercise routine down, baby, only to have to start from ground zero, come on!

I’m afraid that I might not be able to age well in my current home, after discovering that hallways are not really suitable for either the walker or wheelchair. There are also too many steps in my house though Mark has already built ramps all over the place. I’m afraid of something called a highrise toilet, which my friend Nancy assures me I’ll love but I don’t know, does it have a penthouse at the top?

Since I’m quite the captive audience I’ll post more on the trials and tribulations of living with a broken bone. Stay tuned.

Married with zombies

Married with zombies - by Jesse Petersen Let me just say this rates a definite 4 severed heads Sarah and David are having marital problems – Sarah is the breadwinner in the family while David is an unemployed schlub who stays home and plays video games all day. After five years of marriage they are almost through with one another but have been seeing a marriage counselor as a last ditch effort. You can tell how bad the marriage has gotten as they bicker over the music selections in the CD changer on their way to see their marriage counselor. They are so busy fighting with one another it takes them awhile to notice that traffic in Seattle is suspiciously light. Their garage attendant is absent from his post as is the receptionist for their counselor. We, as the reader, knows something’s up but Sarah and David are so absorbed in their grievances they have no idea of what they are about to walk into. They barge in on their counselor chowing down on the perfect couple who normally has the appointment before them. It’s only after the counselor turns on Sarah and she and David then have to fight her off that they begin to have an inkling that something is, indeed horribly wrong. David, who Sarah has felt has been pretty useless, is the first to cotton on to the fact that people are turning into zombies. The bulk of the story then revolves around their trying to leave Seattle to get to David’s sister. Along the way they meet some characters who are even scarier than the zombies. The story breaks no new real ground in terms of zombie lore partially due to the fact that Sarah and David utilize all their zombie knowledge from the books/movies/video games they’ve consumed. Rather it is a fun snarky read told from Sarah’s point of view and some of her observations are priceless, I defy you to not laugh at the vision of zombies still pulling handles on the slot machines. Since the two main characters ring true it’s entertaining to sit in their backseat as it were and watch they learn to not only fight zombies effectively but also learn how to get along. Learning to work as a team killing zombies is so much more effective than those trust exercises counselors are always trying to use. Anyone who has ever blown a gasket over finding the toilet seat up or the toothpaste cap off can relate to these two. A hoot – recommended even for you non zombie lovers as long as you don’t mind what my grandmother used to call salty language.

Furry fisherman

The terror, aka Marguerite, has learned to fish. I had recently left the silverware drawer open and this is also where we keep rubber bands which Marguerite loves. She proceeded to fish around in the drawer with her paw into she was able to scoop one up. Sadly she would not permit her picture to be taken at that time so we did a "staged" picture with her toy. Then this evening I had set the laundry basket down on the footstool in preparation for folding.. There was a small piece of paper under the basket and just enough space for a little paw to shoot under and, once again, fish for it. The curmudgeon has accused her of stealing one of her tricks being as it is that paper play is her baliwick.

Weeding the shelves July 23rd

I've accomplished removing four books from my pile. I cheated a bit by returning two books unread but the goal is to diminish the pile so I figure it counts. One of the books has been around quite awhile in the pile and I wish I had picked it up sooner. A dead man out of mind/Kate Charles explores a series of deaths in a "high catholic" Church of England church. Suspects abound and the reasons why the suspects might commit murder are valid and keep the reader guessing. I enjoyed entering the world of the Church of England as well as meeting our sleuths Lucy Kingsley and David Middletown-Brown. Since the book is older and, as an American, I tend to think of the C of E as very similar to the Episcopal church so some of the issues seemed a little dated to me including the opposition to women priests; a subplot of a man who is probably hiding his homosexuality by being married to a woman; and a 14 yr old who is disturbed by her aunt living with a man. I also felt that I would have understood the characters of Lucy and David better if I had started at the beginning of the series. David had had an affair with someone in the church and I was unsure as to why he stopped seeing this man and started seeing Lucy. This kept pulling me out of the current story. Overall the I did enjoy the mystery and when I can resume hitting the library stacks I intend to check out some of the other titles in the series.

The Crime Writer - a review

As promised my first review of my read or weed em pile The opening scene of The Crime Writer by Greg Hurwitz opens with a bang. Drew Danner wakes up in a hospital bed to “a haze of face, too close for casual”. Two policemen are waiting for him to become conscious. Turns out these officers think he killed his ex-girlfriend as they found his unconscious body slumped over hers. There is only one problem, Danner had a tumor which caused him to black out so he has no memory of whether he really killed his ex or not. He is convicted of her murder but is released due to insanity of the time of the murder (that pesky tumor). He returns home only to find odd things happening - the first night he is home he awakens to find his patio sliding glass door open and bloody footprints which turn out to be his as he has cut his toe, or so he assumes, with the same type of knife used to kill his girlfriend. Since he is not sure whether he is sane or not he decides to look into the murder as if he were writing one of his own thrillers. He doesn't get very far along before another woman is found murdered in a manner very similar to the first murder and he is again arrested. However, due to his previous nocturnal activities he had filmed himself sleeping and the police must release him from custody.Drew determines to investigate this new murder as well. What I liked about this book is that Drew does think he might have killed his ex girlfriend and is terrified by this knowledge. I also liked the conceit of "writing" his own murder mystery and got a kick out of the pages marked up by his editor. His descriptions of Los Angeles and the types of people who live there are also fabulous. Here is just one example as Drew is waiting to see an actor friend in a club “they gain position in the scrum by working in concert, like raptors, with the friends they’ll only be too eager to drop once they book their first pilot.” Drew has a lot of people help him in his investigation, including his editor, a cop and forensic specialist, his AA sponsor and a young Latino kid. The AA sponsor, who is African American and the Latino kid sometimes veer awfully close into stereotype sidekick territory and I would have liked to see their characters fleshed out more. I was willing to overlook this problem though and just go along for the ride as Drew tries to solve his own mystery. Recommended with the caveat that this is more of a mystery than a thriller.

Weeding the shelves

As with most people in the book profession I tend to accumulate books. Some I collect with a view towards permanence, for example, I have a small collection of children’s books, first editions, quilting books etc. and these types of books I’ll never part with. I also have a large number of books for casual reading – which have made unmanageable by pursuing other people’s reading blogs. Quite a few blogs have a mailbox Monday, waiting on Wednesday day type of feature wherein they are looking forward to new books and thus adding to my reading piles. However, I’ve come to the realization that I have more books than I'll ever get to and I really need to weed some of my books so I’ve set myself a challenge. So I’m going to do a similar type of thing but call it weeding the shelves. Hopefully once a week I’ll report on what I’ve cleared from my shelves and perhaps even write a book review or two. My initial goal is to work with the 35 books that have wandered into my living room. I’ve decided that I must read 15 of them by the end of Sept. If I haven’t read 15 then I must get rid of an equivalent number to make it 15. I must read the remainder of the books by the end of December or get rid of the rest of the pile. Then it is onwards and upwards – I’ll continue winnowing by setting deadlines and to help with the reading part I’m not going to the public library. So far I’ve finished one so I better pick up the pace!

Peace at last?

Detente has been reached! Tilly and Marguerite have reached an agreement. If a common enemy approaches the back door such as the baby possum that visits nightly they will ignore one another and sit side by side, ever vigilant that a new enemy is not allowed in. Tilly has also decided not to expend too much energy in hissing unless the terror ventures really, really close now. The spouse even tells me that there has been an occasional touching of noses, this I’ll believe when I see it. I believe that peace will continue to reign as long as tiny one is not allowed into the main bedroom. Should she come between Tilly and her beloved at night – well then all bets are off.

Stealth moves

The little one has pulled out the best weapon in her arsenal in her attempts to ingratiate herself to the human half of the curmudgeon duo – uber cute play moves. Last night she took her feather toy, carried it over to Mark’s shoe, stuffed it in and then proceeded to insert half her body into said shoe to recapture her prey. Pretty good move! Though Tilly remains impervious

Love is ever hopeful

Poor Sammy – he persists in continuing his love call to the lovely, but now spayed, Marguerite. He sits at the back door night after night only to be rudely rebuffed. He calls to her she repays him by rushing the door and swatting him through the screen. I ask you though, who could resist this face?

The curmudgeon and the terror

Anyone who knows us well knows that somehow stray cats know to come to our house for rescue. We currently have two rather moth eaten toms who make their home in our backyard. Then in early May we noticed a youngish looking longhaired calico who occasionally flitted in and out of yard to eat some of the boys food. We just assumed that she belonged to someone as we had other moochers come by and partake of the dry food we left out for the boys. However, we began to notice she seemed to be ravenous all the time and came to the conclusion that she did not belong to anyone. In early May we decided we needed to do something about her. She had already had one litter of kittens and was showing clear signs of being in heat again. We were able to snatch her and have her spayed. During her recuperative phase she remained indoors but my intention was to turn her into an indoor/outdoor cat as we have a very old (22yrs) cat already indoors and I knew she would not appreciate a new cat being in the house My husband had other plans and so Marguerite has remained indoors with us. Tilly, the other cat is not amused by the newbie. Tilly can sulk rather effectively around the house and rather ungraciously growls at the new cat and generally goes out of her way to show just how displeased she is. Being set in her ways she would just as soon that this new, loud animal of elephantine habits would disappear. Marguerite, not to be outdone in the surly department, has the lovely little habit of lunging at one both front paws fully extended in a sort of an Mountain lionfish type of lunge. Her claws are fully extended and she does not attack with a light paw. Little wonder then that Tilly is so curmudgeonish around Marguerite. Tilly mainly growls at the newb and then vacates her immediate vicinity as she does not want to play the role of hapless victim. Last night though Tilly finally got her own back. She, my husband and I were all lying on the bed reading while the terror aka Marguerite was providing her own entertainment on the floor, darting in and out beneath the dresser, rooting around in the baskets I have set out for books and magazines and just generally having a good time. Tilly, in a very stately way slowly made her way down the cat stairs next to our bed. We had thought she was perhaps going to go get a drink of water or perhaps snack on a few kibbles. This, however, was not her plan. She waited until the little one was halfway beneath the dresser chasing yet another dust bunny when WHAM, Tilly plants a paw right across the backside of poor Marguerite. Marguerite somehow does a flip out from underneath the dresser with a most shocked expression on her face. Tilly, being a wise one immediately fled the scene.

The Vegan experiment - the final report

I'm a day late and a dollar short on my final report on being a vegan, but hey, life got in the way. First let me say that I and my true love, butter, have been happily reunited for a week now and I am so glad i can cook with something besides canola oil.
I can say that I survived 23.25 days more or less as a vegan.
So on to the questions
1. Did I lose any weight? Nope I stayed exactly the same not an ounce lost nor gained thus proving that a vegan diet is not a diet per se but more of a lifestyle choice.

2. Did I cheat - Yes I did. I admitted to eating French toast at Denny's and my downfall seems to be chocolate. I had a couple of pieces of Halloween candy and a slice of chocolate cream pie but overall I did try to stay true to the vegan food principles.

3. Was it easy? If the definition of easy is convenient then nope it wasn't. I was able to find a limited number of convenience foods as well as the usual suspects e.g. veggies, fruits, soy etc. at the mainstream grocery stores so kudos for them. Eating at a restaurant, not surprisingly, was much harder. Vegetarian choices seem to be pretty prevalent but not vegan. The one restaurant where I asked for cheese to be removed from the veggie sandwich was accommodating and the Black Bear diner where I thought I'd find nothing vegan had a veggie burger but for the most part I avoided eating out as I knew the choices would be slim.

4. Do I feel better physically? No I don't and for the first few days I actually felt pretty lousy as did the spouse. We both had stomach problems from the soy products and I had a headache for a good four days. I have to admit the headache is probably my fault. I suspect I simply needed to increase my water intake. My guess is that i was lacking due to no milk consumption.

5. Will I stick to a vegan diet - Heck no but I do plan on becoming more of a vegetarian eater again.

6. What was your first non-vegan meal? The spouse had suggested we go out to lunch on day 23 and I mentioned that I couldn’t as I had one more day of veganism to go but then he mentioned Baja Cactus and I caved. They have THE best enchiladas enmoldas so my firs ton vegan meal was chicken enchiladas and boy were they good.

Dennys you shouldn't have

Dear reader, I have a confession. I was tempted into sin by that bright red and yellow sign gleaming in the dark…let me tell you the story.
Long before I decided to try being a vegan for 25 days a girlfriend and I had planned on going to Yosemite in September. This past weekend she, my husband and I went up to Yosemite and had a fabulous time. The park was comparatively empty, the weather was cooperative and we generally just had a good time taking in the sights as we hiked through the park.
I had some worries that I might not find much to eat but was reassured when I took a look at the Ahwahnee hotels lunch menu. I had a perfectly nice roasted vegetable sandwich and the chef withheld the cheese normally added to the sandwich. We decided to not eat dinner in the park in order to give the driver sat least some daylight on the return trip. We left at 6:30 and at 8:00 p.m. we were all pretty hungry. We had passed through several small towns and finally in Oakdale we decided to stop. Since it was comparatively late in the evening and we were so famished we stopped at the first restaurant we spotted which happened to be Dennys. I knew that Dennys had recently gotten some bad press after having added some horrendously huge calorie laden items to their menu but I figured I’d be able to at least eat a salad. However, all the salads I saw on the menu had meat of some sort including those salads on their new fit fare menu. I could have probably asked that the meat items not be included but I was cranky and hungry, the waitress was tired and probably hungry so …I succumbed. I knew not to go whole hog as it were so I stuck to having 2 pieces of French toast. I have to confess it was pretty tasty too. I then went hell for broke and ordered a piece of French silk pie. The pie actually tasted pretty nasty to me so I stopped after a few bites.
I do know how I could have prevented my lapse into vegetarianism. I could have bought fruits, nuts etc with me so that I wouldn’t have gotten too hungry but I was afraid that while we were in the park a bear might take a liking to my snacks and either break into my car or, if I had the food on me, decide I was a tasty snack waiting to happen. So I left the foodstuffs at home. The other thing I could have done would have been to check out one of the many vegan websites to see what their recommendations were for eating vegan at Dennys. It turns out that there are vegan choices at Dennys including a true vegan burger as well as oatmeal, potatoes, bagels etc. However, because I was so hungry I let it get the better of me. I never saw those items on the menu but I bet they are on there. So lesson learned – either keep decent snacks with me or do better research next time.

Hubby lives - vegan for three days and counting

Both hubby and I have survived for three days on our new “regime.” It was a close call our first night when I made vegan migas (recipe to be found here if interests you http://www.eatingwell.com/recipes/vegan_migas.html) but didn’t really follow the recipe closely enough and dang near burned out the back of my throat. A word of warning, the combination of adobo and Serrano peppers, not a good thing. It then continued to be touch and go when I turned to a frozen soy meat analog dish and himself mentioned that I was already eating meat. A little crochety from burning my throat out with the Serrano peppers I kept pointing at the box and shrieking “meatless, see right here it says meatless”. The downhill trend continued when he decided to consume peanut M&Ms in front of me. He, going the vegetarian route can have them but I can’t. Haven’t men learned by now that chocolate is sacred and should not be consumed lightly in front of those who can’t have it?
Both the hubby and I had a few misconceptions before I decided to follow the vegan lifestyle for 25 days so I’d like to address a few of them.
Going vegan is healthy –
Well, yes and no. Remember when I mentioned that Boulder potato chips were vegan? So is a lot of other junk food including some foods aimed directly at vegans. Tofurcky anyone? BTW, purely in the interests of science, I tried a whole foods vegan donut. It wasn’t bad but a bit oily, and definitely not healthy.
If one were to go on a low fat, unprocessed diet that is completely plant-based then, yes, vegan is healthy. One word of caution even here though. If you have a thyroid condition, some plant based elements (goitrogens) including soy and cruciferous vegetables are considered to be toxic to thyroid patients. Not all experts feel this is true but it is something to think about.
As long as you are not eating meat, dairy or eggs you are eating vegan, right?
I certainly thought so and was surprised to learn that many vegans also don’t use honey. Planet Green has a good explanation here http://planetgreen.discovery.com/food-health/reason-vegans-honey.html. I was also surprised when I started reading labels how many otherwise “healthy” foods use honey. So far I’ve yet to find a non pumpernickel bread I can eat. Fortunately Thomas New York style bagels are vegan so I’ll use them for a snack. As an aside, pumpernickel bread, which I love, is very hard to find here in California. I’ve only ever found cocktail sized pumpernickel. Other ingredients I now need to look for on labels are casein and whey which are milk by-products (duh, curds and whey)
Eating Vegan is boring
Okay, I’m not going to lie, for me it probably is going to be boring. Remember I don’t really like a lot of fruits and veg but for those people with more enlightened palates there are tons of recipes out there and if you actually follow the instructions a lot of them look pretty darn good. The internet as a tool offers no excuses for boring. There are tons of recipe sites on the web along with many vegan organizations willing to answer questions so you should be able to eat meals with lots of variety.

Vegan for 25 days

Can a girl who hates fruits and vegetables become vegan for 25 days? Can her spouse survive?
On a lark I’ve decided to try and find out. After all, if former President Clinton, “Mr Fried Foods” can do it then I figure so can I. After all I did become a vegetarian for a year and a half and did pretty well, though I must confess the occasional hamburger was eaten during that time.
I’m curious to see how easy it really is to go vegan. I have no desire to permanently go vegan but all the vegan converts keep talking about how easy it is. However, these same people seem to be well… zealots. I’ve not really heard from the perspective of “I’m an ordinary Joe and yes it really is easy, or no it’s not all that easy and here are the problems” point of view. I hope to represent that point of view.
My ground rules are that from Sept.1 – Sept 25th
1. I’ll not eat the obvious: no meat, no dairy, no eggs, no honey. I will miss you butter…
2. I’ve got to eat like I normally eat, i.e. I use a lot of convenience foods during the week and cook on the weekends. Also vegan does not necessarily mean no junk food. Guess what? Boulder potato chips =vegan. Just sayin’
3. If I go to a restaurant I can’t cheat and eat meat just because I don’t see anything I like on the menu. However, I am also not going to interrogate the staff to determine if my tofu was fried on a grill separate from meat products either. I’m trying this as a possible life style choice and not a religious conversion type of thing.
I’m lucky that I live in the Bay Area. We seem to have, at least, a lot of vegetarian choices on the restaurant menus as well as several stores in the area that have a good selection of vegan frozen foods. In other words, even I may be fairly successful at going vegan.
There are also several websites that should help me in my quest such as http://www.isitvegan.com; eatingwell.com and PETAs website.
For those of you concerned about the spouse, he is not going vegan but he has been “strongly” encouraged to go vegetarian for the 25 days. After all eating a nice juicy steak in front of me could be hazardous to his health.
Finally, you may ask “why only 25 days” and not the widely promoted vegan for 30 days? The answer is that realistically I don’t think I can sustain being vegan after Sept 25th. ON Sept.26th I start my usual training regime for student library clerks and the days tend to be very long. Meals are generally taken in a haphazard fashion and I don’t want to faint in front of a freshman because I haven’t eaten in 12 hours. That tends to scare them.
Wish me luck….

Garden dreaming

My husband, mother in law, a friend and I all went to view a garden of a local artist/gardener in Berkeley a couple of weeks ago. I’d seen this woman’s work at the San Francisco home and garden show and had perused a couple of her books. I knew I’d be seeing lots of color as well as fanciful statuary but seeing them “in the flesh” is a whole different experience. Keeyla Meadows truly has not met a color she doesn’t like but more importantly she makes effective use of these colors. I also love her use of art work as well as a variety of different materials she uses in pavings and planting structures. She has a web site and if you love color check it out here http://www.keeylameadows.net/home/home.html
Her color suggestions are very similar to those used by various quilt instructors over the years. Alas do I ever follow these principles? The short answer is no. If I try to combine several different colors my garden tends to look, at best, disordered and, at worst, muddy. However, I’ve become so enamored of her style that I’ve decided to totally redo my back garden in the hopes that I might obtain a pale version of hers. Regretfully for the spouse this means lots of physical labor. Last weekend we started looking for boulders and found some. My husband’s valiant little four cylinder Nissan hauled the rocks home. Himself, with the help of a hoist, got the rocks off the truck and in the back yard in the approximate position that the rocks will ultimately go. Did I metnion that he moved over a ton (literally) of rock?

This past weekend I then got it into my head that we needed to amend our very clay like soil. Keeyla also has a recipe for “good soil” so we set off on a quest for the various ingredients. We discovered that commercial establishments such as Summer winds and Home Depot do not carry “loamy sand” 5/16”” lava and rock nor do they know what rice hulls are much less were to purchase them. It has finally warmed up in California so driving around in the truck looking for these things got a little “heated”. One lady in Osh was pretty sure the spouse was in trouble but I can assure her we were simply discussing types of sand. After a very hot 2 hours in the truck we came home disheartened. I, information specialist that I am, then turned to the internet. We have discovered where most of our ingredients are and next weekend I hope to obtain them. Stay tuned….

By Jove, I think she's got it.

By Jove I think I’ve got it.
I hate machine piecing or at least I did. I was always afraid that I was going to make too many mistakes and in the process ruin perfectly wonderful fabric. For years a friend has been trying to convert me to the dark side and even helped me make a lap quilt with really large half square triangles. This made me just comfortable enough that I thought I’d take a sampler class at my local quilt shop. After all, I knew that with my growing fabric hoard I had to start doing at least some quilts by machine or I, the cats and quite possibly the hubby would be swallowed whole. I don’t think the hubby would notice as he’d be too intent on his computer screen, but still..
The sampler class caused a resurfacing of all those fears I’d initially had and gone was the comfort level I’d obtained with the lap quilt my friend had helped me with. I became obsessed with that quarter inch seam and whether my 12 inch blocks would ever square up. I’d burst into tears and shriek at the hubby (who did notice) and really began to hate one of my favorite hobbies. I finished the class, finished my quilt and am happy to say it looks pretty good. I decided to persevere and try another quilt but on my own so I signed up for a block of the month type of deal and found that, as the months went on, I began to feel comfortable again. Yes, there are definite mistakes in the first three blocks but nothing that can’t be “repaired” with either a little extra strip of fabric or some carefully placed borderie perse. Some of my blocks now even fit the required 12 ½ inches and can be squared up. I feel like an absolute wiz with snowball/flying geese type units. While I can’t say that I’m having fun yet I have begun to enjoy the machine piecing process just a little. I’ve got three more blocks to go along with sashing so keep your fingers crossed for me. Amazingly I’ve started thinking about my next couple of quilts and, yes, I’ll be doing them by machine.
I will never be a total convert as evidenced by the fact that I’ve got several hand piecing projects in process but I can definitely see doing more and more quilts by machine! My friend will be so proud.
Postscript – after writing this I worked on block no.10 and 11. Block no.10 came together perfectly – block no.11, not so much. I was off by a whole quarter on one edge. I have no ruddy idea why as I worked on the blocks together, overly cocky maybe? Instead of ripping my hair out, I simply added a strip to the bottom. It ain’t pretty but it is a solution. Fingers crossed that block no. 12 comes together.
You can see from my early blocks that there are some boo boos but none too horribly bad.