Per the New York Times: A couple of weeks ago, the Iraqi Kurds quietly passed their own constitution, to be voted on in a later referendum. Our own Veep, already in Iraq to facilitate negotiations between the Kurds and the Iraqi Arab government, opined that the move was "not helpful". In response, one of the members of the Kurdish Parliament evidently said of the Baghdad government "This is a punch in the face. We are fed up with them."

Not so much with the diplomacy, that. Serious honesty points, though.

Our 11 year old son's comment, watching a Star Wars episode on Cartoon Network: "General Grievous has some real anger management issues." When I started laughing, he looked at me and said "Seriously. He does."

You've got to wonder where they get it.

I have a mulberry harvest that doesn't quit. I've not managed that in past years because our tree stands alone in the middle of the back yard, the berries are very high, and they blow down. But my neighbors have half a dozen trees along the edge of their driveway and told us to make free of them. So now I have enough to do something with, but the stems do not want to come off.

So some of you others who harvest mulberries - how do you deal with the stems? Do you precook the berries and run them through a food mill? Or do you just put them in baked goods stems and all? Or take scissors and cut them off one by one? Or something else I haven't thought of?

Inquiring minds want to know! :)

My son and I went for a swim this afternoon, there being little enough else sane one can do when the heat index is in the vicinity of 100 Fahrenheit. He and another boy about the same age decided to play tag. Since tag with only 2 isn't much fun, they asked me to join them, which I did. (Old age and treachery triumphed, but that's another story.)

So at one point I was pursuing my son. The other child quipped "Keep your friends and family close" to which my son responded "and your enemies closer." The lifeguard and I both laughed, and the boys grinned. I was thinking that he had picked up that concept a whole lot younger than I did.

Or not. About 15 minutes later we were getting dried off in preparation for the drive home, and he said "what does that mean, Mom?"

"What does what mean?"

"What Luke said. 'Keep your friends and family close and your enemies closer.' What's it mean?"

I explained it, but I'm still chuckling.

"I'm not saying it's hot out, but I ran into Satan in the parking lot and he said he was going home to cool off."

Shamelessly ganked from ysabetwordsmith

I can't argue with this at all. I've read everything by Le Guin I could get my hands on.

( Fantasy Author test )

Because every one of them would have popped off this morning.

Our son - in a regular classroom, with no more extra support than access to a quiet place to work when he needs it - just made the straight A honor roll.

That's an accomplishment for a neurotypical kid, which he is not.

I'm in awe of him.

My son was waiting for me to put my shoes on and go outside to play kickball with him. After several checks at 2-second intervals, I finally said "I have one shoe on, and the other in my hand. I will get done faster if I don't have to keep giving you a blow-by-blow report. Patience, child!"

Then I had to adjust the shoe laces on shoe number two, so it took perhaps a whole minute. I was putting it on my foot when I heard "I'm being patient." I didn't answer, being folded in half and engaged in tightening said laces.

"Did you hear me, Mom?" came floating from over by my bedroom door. "I'm being really patient!"

And then he wondered why I burst out laughing.

Last night's cake is gone, so thoroughly I'd swear it simply evaporated. It had vanished by seven this morning.

Now granted, I made a half-sized cake. I mean really, what does a family of 3 need with a 10 inch cake?

But there was a carton of strawberries waiting to be cut up, and two hungry guys (not to mention Mom), and the end result was that two thirds of the cake was gone by the time we went to bed. The last third went, partly last night, and partly this morning as my son greeted me with "Mom, I just finished the cake. That was so good! Will you make another one?"

So I'm going to. This one he'll get to decorate. And the next time, I'll just make a full-sized one.

Our son, being bored and in a mood to decorate a cake, asked that I make one. I, being of a mind to encourage the creativity but not wanting to overdo the indulgence quotient, decided to make angel food. We’re a small family (three humans), so I’ve invested in some appropriately sized cake pans. The 7-inch tube pan does half-size sponge and angel cakes beautifully, and a pair of 6-inch round pans will make a half-size layer cake. (I know, I could just bake a single layer instead of 2, but he likes the way a 2 layer cake looks, so I just make it smaller.)

So I went looking through my cookbooks for an angel food cake recipe. Each one used twice as much sugar as egg-white by volume. That meant that a full size cake would contain 12 egg whites, 1 1/4 cups of flour and 3 cups of sugar. No wonder it tastes of nothing else! Low fat it may be, but that is all that can be said for it. By comparison, my favorite yellow butter cake contains 3/4 cup of butter, 1 1/2 cups of sugar, 3 cups of flour and 4 eggs. Half as much sugar and a bit over twice as much flour; yeah, you could taste something other than sugar that way.

So just on a hunch, I pulled my grandmother’s 1957 Joy of Cooking off my shelf. And I was right. Same amount of egg white, a little more flour, and half the amount of sugar. So that is the cake I made. It didn’t bake up with the crackly macaroon-y brown crust of a modern angel cake recipe, but I consider that no particular loss. And it has an actual flavor. You can taste the lemon juice, vanilla and almond extract in it. In other words, it isn’t just sweet inflated cardboard. It’s an actual cake, and one I’ll enjoy eating.

1957 Angel Food Cake
Preheat oven to 325^o F.

1 1/2 cups egg white (10-12 whites, depending on egg size)
1/2 tsp. cream of tartar
1/2 tsp salt
2 Tbsp. lemon juice
1 tsp. almond extract
1 tsp. vanilla extract (or 1/2 tsp. vanilla powder)
1 1/2 cups sugar
1 1/2 cups cake flour, sifted before measuring

In a large, clean dry mixing bowl, beat egg whites until foamy. Add cream of tartar. Beat until they increase in volume, then gradually add lemon juice, salt and extracts. Continue to beat until they just form clear peaks. Gradually add sugar while beating at medium speed, then beat a little longer, until lifting the beater leaves peaks that fold over a little at the tip, and the whites are still very shiny and moist looking.

Carefully fold in flour, a couple of tablespoons at a time, until no visible flour remains. Pour into an ungreased 9 or 10 inch tube pan. Run a butter knife through in a spiral to break up any big bubbles and to level the batter. Bake for 50-60 minutes, or until the cake starts to pull away from the sides of the pan and is lightly browned on top.

Invert the pan over a bottle and let the cake cool completely before removing from the pan. Enjoy.

Conversation I just had with my son:

"How come you always know when I'm silly-bugging, Mom?"

"Mm, maybe because I've known you longer than you've known you?"

"Oh. Yeah." Pause. "Mom, that's cheating!"

And he wonders why I laugh so much.

A lot of people have financial problems, are in debt to greater or lesser extent, and are trying to deal with it. And many times, I hear people say "I can't go enjoy myself until we're out of debt." It is as if everything in life that isn't work or care-giving is "a waste" so long as the financial situation is bad. It is as if enjoying something is "sinful" if your life isn't in perfect order. I have offered to take a friend who's been unemployed far too long for a "girl's weekend" to be told that even though it would be my gift, she would feel too guilty going to enjoy it, because it would be time away from job-hunting or caring for her family.

But all of that made me start thinking about how our culture views money and enjoyment of any sort. That's not just a minor discussion; it's a full philosophical dissertation, or maybe more than one. I don't have any pretension to being able to write such a thing, but I'll cheerfully take my stab at the whole thing anyway.

We seem to view anything pleasant or enjoyable with deep suspicion. Advertisements tout desserts as "sinfully delicious". But why? It's a food, an inanimate thing; it can't have intrinsic moral intent. So that leaves "delicious". But why should deliciousness be "sinful"? That makes even less sense. Sin is presumably a negative; why then attach it to the positive? Why view deliciousness with such suspicion that we condemn it as immoral? Same with relaxing; we joke that we're being "sinfully lazy", when we're taking time to recharge our spirits, as if time that is not tied to something tangibly productive is somehow wasted. We castigate ourselves for failing to save for something no one could foresee, second guessing whether that extra dinner out with a friend was worth it no matter how much we enjoyed it. And it's worse if we owe anyone anything. We tell ourselves that everything we don't absolutely need should be designated to repay the debt, saving nothing for our own well-being beyond survival - or feel guilty if we don't so designate everything beyond the basics. But that doesn't make much sense either; I'm not improving someone else's life by making my own miserable. And it's ironic, in a society built on credit, that debt should be considered shameful. It goes on, of course. If income does not equal outgo, we don't wait for creditors to call us deadbeats; we'll castigate ourselves first, and never mind that income didn't go up while the cost of everything it has to buy did. If we need help from family, it feels like failure, no matter what bombs landed in our laps.

It's terribly destructive, all of it. What is admirable about asceticism and misery? If it's going to be put into religious terms, I'd say things that we enjoy - good food, good company, a movie, (and yes, sex too) should be considered blessing, a gift from $DEITY, not sin. Not that there aren't things worth feeling guilty about. Failing to take care of one's family, things done so immoderately that they become destructive even if good in moderation (e.g. a glass of wine as opposed to alcoholism; a game of cards at a con versus a gambling addiction) But using a little of our resources to do the things that make us happy, or taking the time to feed our own soul should not, to my way of thinking, be among them.

I have a long-standing practice of taking older-sib gifts to baby-showers any time there's an older child already in the family. So when I got invited to a baby shower in Indy, I set myself to thinking up gifts suitable to a 2 1/2 year old little girl. The logic runs that the toddler understands that there's a party, and lots of presents, but that none of them are for her, and she doesn't understand why that should be.

What I made this time was a cloth doll the right size for a toddler to cradle in her arms with a nightgown, a poncho for the 2 year old (made too small, as it turned out) and a little tote bag to hold all of it in pink cotton with sparkly silver stars on it. The poncho will be for the new citizen (probably fit her come either fall or next spring), but Big Sister was delighted with her doll and bag. I stepped out at just the wrong moment, but I was told she grabbed that baby-doll and hugged it, then took it around to show to everyone present. I know that when she was told, awhile later, that I was the person who had made her baby, she not only said thank you very politely, she threw her whole little self into my arms and hugged me.

So I know I got it right. That makes me as happy as the baby-doll made the little girl who took her home.

And the plumber came, and replaced the worn-out well pump switch, and there was water.

Hooray!!!!

I am very glad of small town business folk. The conversation with the plumber ran:

"Did the circuit breaker trip?" - "No, I flipped them all to make sure of it."

"Bad storm last night." (I didn't ask how that would affect our well.) "Happened before the storm."

"Old system?" - "No, new just before we moved in in 2005."

"Gradual loss of pressure?" - "No, very sudden."

"We're on our way."

My sink is full of dishes, which overfloweth onto the counter, and I feel rather slimy for lack of my habitual morning shower, or even face-wash. But all will be cured in time. Indeed, those who can cure the lack behind it all should be here any minute.

In fact, they're here.

I must say, it's not a moment too soon.

It always seems to be about the water.

This evening I was making dinner. I rinsed the meat for soft-shell tacos for Da Boychick (having cause to believe he wouldn't touch the chicken curry in the crock-pot), crumbled it into the pan, and washed my hands. All normal. Plan was to do dishes after dinner.

Except I went to turn the water on, and there was none. No pressure. Not a single drop. Checked the circuit breakers - all good. Checked the plugs, making sure the pump had power. Solidly in the wall. Looked at the pressure gauge. Big Fat Obnoxious Zero. Called landlady.

So now I get to call the plumber in the morning, and see when they can get here. And once it's fixed, I get to do enough dishes that you'd swear I fed an army.

The thing I find myself wanting to tell those who would legislate their own rigid narrowness in the name of $DEITY is that they're really insulting the Creator. Taken by their own canon (and mine; it comes straight out of the Tanach*), all of creation, and humanity in particular, is created in $DEITY's image. As the original is infinitely complex, so too must be that which is modeled upon it. I'm not a Rabbi, but I am very well trained in my own history and philosophy, and that is where my reading of it takes me.

(Of course, I also find amusing/irritating the fashion in which they pick and choose. They say same-sex relationships are "evil" because their Bible says so, then at the same time say marriage is between one man and one woman. Polygamous Patriarchs and ancient kings are conveniently forgotten. I guess consistency is for hobgoblins, because it certainly isn't for these folks.)

And then I found this article. How wonderfully complex we humans are. I know such a couple personally, though the identity shift did not include surgery. Both are now self-identified "male", and probably confusing a lot of people because the erstwhile female of the pair is currently nursing a 3 month old baby who is clearly the delight of the parent's lives. (I need to make an opportunity to run over and meet the new citizen, but that's another matter.)

I don't usually read such things from a religious angle, save to the extent that everything gets the filter of my own upbringing and training and experience. But all the arguments against same-sex marriage seem to be religious, and it seems to me those who make them have it entirely wrong. It isn't an offense against $DEITY; it's a celebration of the aspect of Creation that is love, that is the bond between human beings that says "You're part of my soul; you hold my heart. I want to stay with you forever, and I want the community to recognize that we have bonded in that way." And to insist that $DEITY is so terribly narrow minded is, to my mind, insulting.

*Jews refer to the Old Testament as the Tanach. Our Testament can hardly be "Old" when we haven't incorporated what others refer to as "New", now can it? It isn't mere linguistic quibble; it goes directly to the heart of where Judaism and Christianity diverge.

Two of the most wonderful people in the world (and they're even friends with each other!) share a birthday today. textdeviant, min0taur, I hope you've each had the best of days. Your friendship is one of the most special things in my life. I love you both.

It is the measure of my sports apathy that I remember meeting a basketball star, and where, and when, but not who he was. It was a minor little adventure, but since I'm thinking about it now, you all get it.

Some years back, when I worked in a department store, I found myself waiting on a very tall gentleman. He was on crutches, and had obviously had knee surgery. He asked if I minded if he rested that leg on my counter while I rang things up. "Gravity's a bitch" was how he put it. I said sure, noticing that the counter top was low enough on him for that to be comfortable and went on, making small talk. He seemed to be expecting some sort of reaction from me he wasn't getting, but since I couldn't guess what it might be I ignored it. So a little later, we were done, and I handed the bag to the friend who was with him. The tall guy gave me a grin so perfect it looked practiced, and he and his buddy went off.

As one of my co-workers rushed over to say "That was Joe Basketballstar! (and stared at me when I said "who's that?"), I heard the friend say to the tall guy (expletives deleted) "She didn't have a clue who you are, did she?" and the tall guy's response. "Not one. Kinda cool, to just be a guy with a bum knee, y'know?"

A small one, but still, it's a start.

I promised indyellen my charoses recipe. So though Pesach is past, I just made a batch so that I could note and measure ingredients. I'm sure my husband will be happy to help me dispose of the evidence. :)

Kestrel's Charoses

1 large or 2 medium tart apples. (I had a 3/4 pound granny smith, so I used that.)
1 cup roughly chopped walnuts
1/2 to 3/4 cup sweet concord wine or grape juice. Use good quality; there's a huge difference in texture and flavor. Kedem is good; some of the grocery brands have a chalky texture.
grated zest of 1 small lemon (about 1 tsp.; 1/2 tsp dried)
juice of 1 small lemon (approx 2 Tbsp) combined with 2 Tbsp honey and 2 Tbsp brown sugar.
1 tsp ground cinnamon
3/4 tsp ground ginger
1/2 tsp vanilla

Peel and roughly chop the apples; put into a bowl with room to stir. Mix in walnuts, wine and lemon peel. Heat lemon juice, honey and brown sugar until the honey and sugar have melted. (20 seconds in the microwave did nicely.) Blend in to the apple mixture. Add the spices.

Taste and adjust as needed. This will be better the second day, if it survives that long.

There, K'chara. Promise kept. :)