Feels Like Fall

I doubt I’ll see any leaves turning here in central Texas, but the cool crisp mornings and sweater-accommodating weather has certainly given me a taste of the Fall up north that I miss very much. In reality, the weather may be no cooler than it was last year this time. But after so many days of 100+ temps this summer, it really does feel like a cold front has set in early this year.

Our peppers are growing more and more each day, something that wouldn’t necessarily happen so late in the year in the north. Last weekend, I picked up 15 pound of fresh apples from an Idaho farmer- a little taste of what grows so readily in other states. Tomorrow, we will celebrate our first Thanksgiving celebration of the season – something that happens no matter how far south you live.

Fall is here in Texas, and I’m eating it up while I can. Before long, we’ll be setting our sites on foreign soil (Ireland in three weeks) and preparing for Christmas in North Carolina. I have a lot to do between now and then. But for now, I think I’ll step outside and enjoy that cool, sunny 70 degree day.

An Unexpected Model

J and I planted some pepper plants back in May that were graciously given to us from some friends. They promptly died (the plants, not the friends). They were attacked by aphids and fungus. Despite our attempts at using store-bought organic pesticide/fungicide as well as home-made varieties, they perished.

A friend of mine from work took pity on us and gave us four more pepper plants. These were a bit more mature and, after several weeks, took off until they were almost as tall as me (being a stalking 5'4"). But they had no flowers. Thus, they had no fruit. They just kept growing. Then the heat of the summer kicked in, and despite our best attempts, our plants withered in the 100 degree heat. After weeks and weeks of watering, they just turned brown and crisp and dead. J wanted to cut them off and plant something else. I asked what the use was. Texas, I decided, is no place to grow anything. Let's just leave it to the snakes and scorpions.

But then it happened. Something miraculous that native Texans have only seen on varied occasions during their lifetimes--- it rained. It rained for days and days. I even got out my Jcrew green flowered galoshes. Then the heat broke and we got out our sweaters to help us deal with the crisp 78 degree chill. Then we noticed something... after a month or more of neglect, we went to our backyard and saw green pepper plants full of flowers and two little peppers.

I guess sometimes nature can take care of itself (imagine that). We still have aphids, but we also have ants which are eating them away. And since that initial "crop," we have many, many more peppers coming. Next year, we'll be patient and wait to plant until after the summer sun is settled a bit. A nice fall garden seems to be the ticket after all.

I took some pictures... and this little guy insisted on being my model. Every time I moved to get him out of the shot, he followed the camera. Perhaps he just wanted to attack me and my large black object... but I decided he just wanted the attention.

A Bundt to Remember

In my constant attempt to “chill out,” I’ve been baking and cooking a lot more (J’s just delighted). Last week, I made Macaroni and Cheese with Turkey Bacon, and Fish sticks with tarter sauce (all Gluten Free of course). I am working on earning my degree in domestic goddessness, and J says that I’m well on my way.

This morning I went out to get my flu shot and a church garage sale caught my eye. I stopped to look even though we didn’t need anything. I thought it was, as my parents would say, “a drive by,” but I had an inkling that something magical awaited me.

I was right. There, nestled between some old books and a half-burnt candle was an avocado-green ceramic bundt pan. It was only 50 cents.

This afternoon, I embarked on a journey to make an edible, chocolate (of course) bundt cake that was free of all the nasty things that tend to upset my system. Yes, I made a Gluten Free, Dairy Free, Agave Nector Chocolate Chip Bundt Cake and it is fabulous. It’s moist, bouncy, full of flavor and downright tasty.

J gave me an “Mmmm plus” on my project, and I got a tummy full of chocolate. A good evening indeed.

Gluten-free, Dairy-free, Agave Nector Bundt Cake

Dry ingredients:

- ½ c sorghum flour

- ¼ c rice flour

- ¾ c all purpose gf flour

- ½ c tapioca flour

- ½ c cocoa powder (gf, dairy free)

- 1 tsp xangthan gum

- 1 ¼ tsp baking soda

- ¾ tsp baking powder (gf)

- ½ tsp salt

- 1 cup chocolate chips (gf, dairy free)

Wet ingredients (pay attention, here’s where it gets tricky):

- ¾ cup + 3 Tbs Agave Nector

- 3.5 Tbs Cooking oil (note the .5)

- 2 large eggs, beaten- remove 2 Tbs.

- 1 tsp vanilla (gf)

- ¾ cup rice milk

- 3/4 tsp vinegar

Topping:

- ½ cup agave nector

- 1 ½ Tbs cocoa powder

- 1 Tbs melted butter substitute

- 2-3 Tbs rice milk

Directions:

- Combine dry ingredients (except chocolate chips) in small bowl.

- Combine wet ingredients in small bowl, mix well.

- Stir dry and wet ingredients together, making sure it’s smooth and bump free (no bumps in the bundts please).

- Stir in chocolate chips.

- Pour into greased bundt pan.

- Bake at 300 for 60 minutes. Cool in pan for 5 minutes, then transfer to a wire rack

- Once the cake is cool, combine melted butter, agave nector and cocoa powder in a small bowl. Add rice milk slowly until it’s thin enough to drizzle. Drizzle it over the bundt cake and let it set for a couple minutes.

- Enjoy your Bundt!

I'm a Growing Girl

“I’m a growing girl!” That’s what I told my husband to justify getting a chocolate Chic-fil-a milkshake last weekend. Surprisingly, I did not get sick. Perhaps, it was a fluke, but it could also be another one of the odd happenings coming out of my treatments for vitamin D deficiency.

When I was diagnosed about six weeks ago, I did a comprehensive search of the internet. I read about how people were more energized, happier and felt well after being on the supplement (and by supplement I mean 50,000 units once per week- compared to the 200 units in my centrum). Most said they noticed a difference after a month, but felt significantly better after a year.

I noticed a difference in about two weeks. I am more energized. I’m sleeping better. J says I’m much happier to be around. I even spent an evening washing the baseboards and still had energy to do the laundry. Even my hairdresser asked what I’ve been doing to make my hair thicker.

So when I walked into my Grandparent’s house over Labor Day weekend, I expected people to comment about my new relaxed and happy demeanor. I didn’t expect to hear my mother say that I “felt taller.” Sure enough, after a couple hours of commentary, I insisted that we find a measuring tape and determine the outcome once and for all. To my utter delight, we found that I grew a half-inch this summer. I am officially 5’4.”

To sum up, mothers really do know their children. And when they tell you to drink your milk, it’s good to follow their advice. Vitamin D really does make a difference!

Melodramatic Musings

There’s this song by Over the Rhine about Ohio. It’s rather melodramatic and it makes me think of adolescence and all the people I know who never really left (the state, not adolescence). Everytime it plays, that last line, “I hate to see your story end,” keeps repeating in my head. It’s been on replay a lot lately because tomorrow I head to Indiana, the “Ohio” of my youth.

When I say that “I hate to see your story end,” I don’t mean that the state is dying. Though, I can imagine “brain drain” is probably still a pretty dramatic issue. I mean the story of youth and the story of growing up and the story of being from somewhere. Even now, I’m torn to say that I’m from the state. Not because of bad memories, but because I have so few relational ties. Sure, my extended family remains and I see them about once a year, but beyond that and with the anonymizing ease of technology, the state simply doesn’t beckon to me as “home.” When I’m old and gray (God willing), they could just as easily say of me, “she’s from Nevada,” depending on where I end up.

I imagine though, that I will always retain some sense of attachment to the small town where my parents were raised. The small community is still rich with heritage, and though I lived there only a few years, was a consistent factor in my childhood. In fact, that’s where I’m traveling tomorrow. Apart from my nuclear family, I would consider that my “roots.”

So tomorrow, with a bit of bittersweet zeal, I will head “home” to Indiana. I will see (literally) more than 100 people and cherish the time to catch up with family. But I can’t help thinking how odd it seems that this chapter’s ending. I’m no longer in the back of the mini-van, stopping in Spencer for an ice cream and heading to Grandma and Grandpa’s house. I’m married and starting my own family, traveling by plane to see a story that was over far too quickly.

Remembering Katherine

My friend Katherine died this week. Though she had been fighting her cancer for a long time, she always seemed to come around and beat it again and again. When I received the call that this time was different, I was a little shocked and very sad that this world lost such a faithful advocate and friend.

I must admit that I didn’t like Katherine at first. Our first meeting was to discuss the GYN support group, which she had started a few years before. She waltzed into the meeting like she owned the place- and I found her bossy and demanding. I think she’d be happy to be described that way though. Bossy and demanding is how she accomplished what she did and how she touched so many lives. Bossy and demanding is how she got heard in a sea of awareness about cancers with 80% cure rates and said, “Hey, what about us? We’re dying over here.”

Katherine made things happen. When she was first diagnosed, no support groups existed for GYN cancers in her community. She didn’t shy away- she started her own and included anyone who wanted to attend. She developed a tight-knit community of support, whose members are bound together even years after their treatments ended. Even then, she wanted to do more. She started a conference, Living on the EDGE, and brought in doctors, complementary therapists and even dieticians to help women with GYN cancers live life beyond medical treatments. She did everything she could to help the GYN cancer cause and she made a tremendous impact.

I’ve learned a lot from Katherine. While we’re both action-oriented people, I learned from her that no matter where you come from you really can do something to right a wrong, or make the world a better place. Don’t be afraid- just walk into the room like you own the place and start making a difference.

I used to have a list for everyone who died. I kept it in an old bible I received in my third grade Sunday school class. I stopped when I realized I had far surpassed the amount of death and suffering that anyone should see in his or her lifetime. But when I think about those I’ve lost, like Katherine, I know I would do it all over again. I would suffer the heartache of losing a friend. I would walk hand in hand with people I know will not be here on earth much longer. I would stand with the families and the friends left behind again and again, because those lives were meaningful. I would have rather loved them and suffered that loss than to have never known them at all.

Three Flat Tires

When I was a little girl, my father and his friends used to sing some crazy songs around the campfire. My favorite was always the beaver song (you had to use buck teeth to sing it), but another common camping song was entitled “Three Blue Pigeons.” One by one, we’d sing the pigeons off of their fencepost and, one by one, we’d sing them back on.

The tune’s taken on a new verse in the past few days though, due to the fact that I have managed to get not one, not two, but three flat tires. That’s what happens when you run over nails.

The first flat was from the roofers, who managed to fill our driveway with nails even though they finished our roof about two weeks ago. A very kind man took a risk by pulling alongside my vehicle on I-35 to tell me my tire was flat. Then, my husband (otherwise known as my “knight in shining armor”) rescued me from a strange parking lot and swapped vehicles so I didn’t have to sit at the shop.

I guess he didn’t realize he’d have to come to my rescue again so soon. As I pulled out of the neighborhood this morning at 6:30 a.m., I realized (after the fact) that the shiny stuff sprinkled in the middle of the road was not broken glass. No, I ran over a nicely distributed puddle of nails. My husband not only rescued my vehicle again (this time with two flat front tires), but he also verified the nails and filed an incident report so the police would come clean them up.

One by one, the tires have gone flat. One by one, they’ve been patched and returned home to Mitsy (my car). And all day long, I’ve been humming that simple, silly song and thinking of old memories, and new ones- like the time I got three flat tires in three days.

Three flat tires.

Three flat tires.

Three flat tires taken out by nails.

Oh look….

There comes the husband…

Let us rejoice…