JonesyAlonesy

A Gala Event

2010-12-06T20:20:00.000-08:00

Last weekend was the Custer County Foundation's yearly Christmas Gala. This is Broken Bow at its finest. The event is the Foundation's biggest fundraiser of the year. All the hoity toities of the town get gussied up in their best duds and come enjoy a lovely supper. There is an auction with a real live auctioneer. It is loud, exciting and almost musical. You want to tap your foot to the ninety-ninety-ninetity nine...And you want to buy things. Art, vacation packages, truck loads of gravel, tractor time. There is something for everyone at the Custer County Gala.

At the periphery of the dining hall there are other items to bid on in a silent auction. This allows the well to dos to rub elbows and visit with one another as they peruse the lovelies. And there is meat. Oh is there meat! Every year we have had the pleasure of going to the Gala we have been graced with a large cut of prime rib. This year they did us one better. They brought an appetizer of, you guessed it, meat! Big ol' chunks of steak marinated and skewered and grilled to well doneness. For a moment I wondered: "will they serve something other than prime rib this year? Surely they won't follow meat chunks with a gigantic meat chunk?" I thought. But then I thought again. Of course there would be double meat. This is Nebraska! This is cattle country. And so it was: after the little meat chunks, out came huge, succulent, bloody slabs of meat!

Oh, but how could I mention the Gala without mentioning the football? Gala night is also Husker night. The Big Red on the big screen. Eating and auctioning and elbow rubbing all takes a back seat the the football. Even the decor is Husker red and black. Ladies in sparkly black dresses and red faux leather jackets wave their red napkins above their heads and woot woot for the home team. The movie theater sized screen flashes red and white. A good play is made, and the crowd goes wild. A bad play and heart felt mourns resonate through the hall. Auctioneers hush for playtime, and the cadence commences again only during commercial breaks. Popcorn is served. All of Broken Bow sits back and watches, cheering on the Huskers with all their might. A community at its best.

Potager Post

2009-08-05T17:36:00.000-07:00

More pictures of the potager! It is still not finished, but around here when something is 90% done, it's basically done. I must have inherited a gene that keeps you from completing projects. Anyway, it's still the best looking potager on our block. The fruits of our labor include strawberries, tons of herbs, Japanese eggplant, broccoli, cauliflower, pickling cucumbers and this mystery melon. I don't remember planting it, so if anyone can identify it I will give them 50 cents -- next time they visit me.

Also, I know nothing about pickling, so I have been searching for recipes to use up all these cucumbers!! I find the whole topic very confusing... salt versus vinegar, boiling brine versus cooled brine, hot water bath versus no bath. There are so many pickling permutations that I get confused. I finally emailed my good friend Lynne Rosetto Casper for her input, but I have yet to hear back from her. I'm sure she'll be in touch soon.

Finally, even though it is well into August I have had merely 3 ripe tomatoes so far. The rest seem to be in some sort of green tomato suspended reality. As we are still working on the canned green tomato chutney from last year, I sure hope whatever bizarre Nebraska Summer conditions are keeping them from ripening will settle the hell down.

Happy, healthy gardening, people.

P is for Potager

2009-06-15T16:26:00.000-07:00

I was going to wait until this project was finished to show it off, but as it may never actually get finished I have decided to post some pictures. So behold the potager! (that's french for prissy kitchen garden). Stuff's not really growing yet since it's been really cloudy and wet here this spring, but soon those little boxes will be full of delightful veggies, herbs and flowers. I even went so far as to plant a couple of rose bushes. This turns out to have been a mistake -- they are already dying, but I have no regrets.

Other random photos

Morels

2009-05-04T20:04:00.000-07:00

One of the radio podcasts I listen to has a segment on the Santa Monica farmer's market. I have to admit that over the past couple of weeks I have been just a tad jealous to hear about all of the wonderful new spring produce that is available at the market. Our own farmers market will not open for at least another month or so. Oh to experience fresh fava bean sauteed with spring leeks! As usual for NE though, if you just look around a bit you can find your own kind of spring wonderfulness here.

Today I guilted Keith into accompanying me on a search for some morel mushrooms. Neither of us really knew for certain if they existed around here, but I was determined to find out, and as it turned out Keith was willing to accompany me. We set off in our little Jetta with the dogs in the back and made our way to our nearest "river". We walked around for quite awhile, at first thinking maybe there would be no Morels after all. Then Keith spotted them: a bunch of beautiful brainy, chorally looking things. They were sort of out of place in the middle of a field of green grass, but they were sitting there plain as day! We excitedly picked them and threw them into our bag. After about an hour or so of further hunting this is what we hauled in.

It was a fun way to spend a beautiful, warm spring evening here in Nebraska. The dogs frolicked in the the river beside us while we carefully hunted mushrooms. There wasn't a soul around for miles which was nice and peaceful and of course meant more mushrooms for us! Tonight we enjoyed a delicious morel sautee. It may have even been worth all the ticks we brought home with us.

Recycle Me

2009-04-29T08:02:00.000-07:00

As of this week I am the official chair of the Broken Bow Green Coalition's newly formed recycling sub-committee. I am very excited to have such a role! While others may look around Broken Bow and see a hopeless community of uninterested resource squanderers, I see immense potential!

This is a community where men think of F350 pickups as a symbol of their masculinity: drivers of girly Ford Rangers and the like are ridiculed as driving something other than "a real truck". This is an industrial farming community dependent on gas powered tractors and chemical fertilizers and pesticides to raise immense fields of corn. The life's blood of Broken Bow is a large cattle feed operation that produces tons of cattle waste and ozone depleting methane on a daily basis. (Unlike other industries, there are no governmental regulations requiring "farm" waste to be disposed of in environmentally sound ways).

This is community in which lives a young man who, upon seeing my husband peddling to work one day, commented on the anomaly: "that guy must need to save money". This in turn sparked a conversation between this teenager and his mother about how people without kids have time to do things like ride their bikes to work, and yes saving money is an important thing to start thinking about with college around the corner... No mention of how much impact gas spewing motorized vehicles have on our environment or our current problems related to dependence on foreign oil. The green thing just isn't in peoples' consciousness here. I think part of the problem is simply lack of education, and the other problem is the unfortunate political connotation in so many people's minds when the words "environmentalism" or "green" are spoken.

But do I find these facts about Broken Bow daunting? I think not! I am truly excited about the potential of our town (including my household) to improve our carbon footprint. Although many rural people are behind the curve on environmental issues, there are also a bunch of smart, informed and interested people here (hence the coalition). In addition, for every F350 driving litterbug out there, there is a little grey haired lady who has been saving yogurt containers to use as tupperwares and reusing the waxed paper liners from her cereal boxes since the great depression. There is hope for this small town!

Check out Keith's awesome website he made for our cause at www.greenbrokenbow.org

So Long Anonymity

2009-04-22T13:52:00.000-07:00

By my calculations Keith and I have been BB inhabitants for precisely 18 months. That has been sufficient time to get settled into the community and to make a few dear friends. It has also been enough time for a good proportion of Broken Bow-ites to have needed our services in the clinic or ER, and thus recognize us in the streets.

As the "homemaker" of our domicile I am generally the one out doing errands and jaunting about town. It is not uncommon on these escapades for me to be stopped by a patient, or a patient's family member when they have a question or comment about their medical condition. I always thought when I went into medicine that this would not bother me. I felt that I liked helping people, and if I had to sacrifice a few personal minutes out of my day to do that, so be it-- it would be enjoyable. What I didn't fully conceptualize was the types of things people would stop me about and the completely inconvenient times they would stop me.

For example, yesterday I had a 30 minute slot between patients when I planned to pop down to the hospital's annual rummage sale and hunt for treasures. I scarcely passed through the doors when a patient cut me off to ask me about her husband's recent blood work. "What were the numbers?" she demanded. I was torn between repeating a conversation with her which I had had on MANY occasions versus finding cool, cheap stuff. Of course I did my best to answer her questions.

When I finally elbowed my way past all the elderly thrifters and their shopping carts to the back of the rummage sale (where the books and LPs are) a woman identifying herself as a neighbor (I am learning that anyone in a 1/2mile radius is a neighbor) stopped me to talk about her husband whom I had pronounced dead in the hospital. I nodded sympathetically then awkwardly went back to sifting through the LPs.

The next day, equally as hurried, I planned a quick stop at the grocery store. As I was loading up on sale peppers a patient's mother veered out of her way to come talk to me about her son. I had seen him in the ER the night before, and he was still hurting. This was a 28 year old man who had twisted his ankle when he hopped out of his pick-up truck. He was just certain he had broken it even though all of his x-rays were normal. She wanted to let me know that the 800mg of ibuprofen wasn't touching the pain, and he wanted to be re-evaluated for a fracture (I'll have to make a separate post someday about the incredible wimpiness of 20-something year old males). When I started to offer suggestions the mother told me that she didn't necessarily want me to do anything, she just wanted to share. I simply looked at her, silently wondering why she felt this was an appropriate vegetable department conversation.

My anonymity is a thing of the past. My medical school ideals of being available to those who needed me at any given time still exist, but the problem is that a rummage sale or a grocery store are simply not practical places to diagnose and treat, and unfortunately too many people somehow feel it is okay to infringe on my personal time for relatively trivial problems.

If I could send a message to all Broken-Bowans it would be this: I cannot diagnose your daughter's knee injury when she is not even present. You are lucky if I can remember your name much less you husbands blood work. And I find it terribly awkward to discuss your continued rectal pain and bleeding in the supermarket. Please take note.

Another Birthday

2009-04-21T20:40:00.000-07:00

I guess all my complaining last year about not being spoiled on my birthday did the trick (thank goodness Keith cares not about the effects of positive reinforcement on whiny behaviors). This year not only did I get a delicious homemade meal, but I also got homemade cupcakes! Look at the care and love he is putting into those little gems. They were superb!

Look What My Worms Made!/Vacation

2009-04-01T19:29:00.000-07:00

I'm glad someone has been working hard around here, because lately it has not been me and Keith. While we were on our mountain getaway, the worms have been working hard for us. Beautiful compost to make Terry green with envy! My garden is going to be awesome this year.

Keith and I were in Crested Butte Colorado last week. We had a fantastic (and much needed) vacation. Although the 9 hour car ride with methane producing beasts was not enviable, the skiing, snowshoeing, scenery, food and friends were superb!
See Bryan, skiers and snowboarders can get along (Not sure what's wrong w/my face here)

Bryan and Christa

Where did this doggie come from? His tag said "Wiggle Butt" which I though was rather demeaning.

Marie, Thad and Espera

It was a dog heavy week. There are actually 4 dogs back there, but I think Lucy and Thena are crushing the others.

Home Design Update

2009-03-07T09:37:00.000-08:00

Once, a long, long time ago, someone requested that I post more pictures of our house after we had a chance to decorate it. As it turns out, Keith and I enjoy watching the Daily Show and reading books far more than we like home decorating, so many a moon has passed w/o such a post. Recently I have decided to work in ernest on getting things done around here though (my goal is to get things just the way I want them just in time to have to move). Today I am happy to announce that things are sailing along. Exactly one and a half years after we took up residence here, our living room is finally starting to look finished, and our bedroom is looking good.

Here are a few of the lessons I have learned along the way:

1) I suck at home decorating. There is nary an item in this house that is actually residing in the place I planned for it. Invariably it does not look good were I envisioned it, and it has to be shuffled. Luckily our house is big, and I can usually find another suitable place for things. The only flaw in this strategy is that it cannot last forever once the last possible space is occupied.

2) Things you see online are never what they appear -- always get a swatch first, stupid. Along those same lines, just because you know what color "flax" is does not mean Restoration Hardware does.

3) Keith does not like anything I pick, so if I really want it, I shouldn't ask his opinion.

4) Home design consultants may actually be worth their exorbitant fees if they can keep you from blowing a thousand bucks on a wool rug at overstock that doesn't really go with anything in your house, and you can't figure out how to get said rug back in the packaging to return it.

Anyway, enjoy these pics. I must say, I do not really think the bedroom photo really does the space justice. In real life it's pretty awesome -- and finished!

By the way, anybody have a good idea as to what to put above the fireplace? I'm leaning toward a western theme: either a picture of bison in the snow I have seen at a local shop or maybe even a stuffed deer head mount (Keith is against the latter). Thoughts?

Look at my awesome new pants!

2008-12-23T16:19:00.000-08:00

The sole purpose of the post is to show all who are interested (and who wouldn't be) how great Keith looks in his new pants/sweater combo. I am proud to say that for the first time in weeks he was actually too hot at work, and this allowed him to shed his sad, worn-out, and full of little lint balls hoodie. Yay, long skinny pants!

The worst thing about eczema

2008-12-22T19:55:00.000-08:00

This winter has been incredibly cold (-30 w/wind chill the other day). What is perhaps worse though is how dry it has been. Over the years I have been annoyed on and off by a tiny patch of eczema on the lateral aspect of my middle finger. With this extra dry weather coupled with having to wash my hands umpteen times a day to rid them of germs and doggie stink, my eczema is spreading. Now the whole middle digit is red and cracked and stinging like crazy. I'm also getting textbook antecubital fossa involvement. So, to treat it I have taken to wearing a glove on my right hand at night in order to get the steroid cream and emollient to absorb better. This is the worst part of having eczema -- operating my laptop mouse with a glove doesn't work, so I am forced to navigate left handed. Difficult. Yes I realize that if this is my biggest concern, then I have a nice life indeed.

With the cold weather hitting this weekend and Keith being on call, I spent most of the weekend baking cookies. This crazy cookie lady motivated this madness, which will likely never be repeated in this house. Co-workers are getting a variety of delectable cookies though, and I too made biscotti, and it is awesome. It was so hard to wrap it up and not eat half of it in the process.

Tomorrow I will try to post pictures of Keith in his awesome new, long enough and not too baggy and super good deal cords and nice wool sweater which will hopefully keep him from complaining so much about the cold weather. These were his early Christmas gift. And kudos to Kat for helping me find the handful of places that actually sell Gautreaux sized slacks.

Born To Hand Jive

2008-11-01T07:11:00.000-07:00

If you had a special talent would you show it off every day, seeking attention and praise? Well if you were smart you would save that special talent for a very special day in which you could shock your peers, stun your wife and win a $50 prize. What I am speaking of friends is Keith's dance, hand jive and gymnastics talents. Who knew he could cartwheel?

As you can see Keith and I dressed as Greasers for Halloween this year. As it turned out another couple tried to steal our idea and they too showed up as Sandra D and Danny. Big mistake for them. Their costumes were obviously unmotivated, cheap internet versions while ours were creative, homemade duds. For some reason though, the judges seemed torn between the two duos for the "best couple costume", and they decided to have a dance off to determine who would get the prize. Poor other vinyl T-bird jacket greasers. They simply did not stand a chance. You see, not only did Keith and I just have our first country swing dance class (easy enough to embellish into a fifties style swing), but 6 foot 4 inch Keith has also got some mad cartwheelin' skills. Needless to say, we departed victorious with some fancy T-shirts (mine has a topless hula dancer on the front) and a $50 gift certificate.

Hand Jive!

Here's a picture of some other best costume winners: our neighbors kids won "scariest" and "most original" for their zombie and Oscar the Grouch costumes. So cute!

Kirby's Kluckers

2008-09-25T15:16:00.000-07:00

The more you know about food and where it comes from, the more paralyzing shopping is. My ideal shopping cart would include food that is grown locally, without antibiotics, and is nutritious. It should be from animals that are raised with all their original parts, natural habitats should be minimally impacted to grow and harvest the food, it should be packaged in environmentally friendly packaging, no workers should be exploited in the growing and harvesting process, and minimal oil should burned to transport it. Oh, and I would like it to be delicious please. Is that too much to ask?

There is a guy at our local farmer's market that sells chickens. From his sign I can only infer that his name is Kirby, and I have been buying his Kluckers for the past several weeks now. I was so excited when he showed up at the farmers market because the chickens in the local supermarket are barely passable as meat. They are generally droopy and fatty, and I shudder to think what the conditions they are raised under might be. I am always looking to shop locally, but ironically our nation's heartland doesn't produce much beyond corn and soybeans (which you can't find in the supermarket btw). So, when I saw the local Kluckers, I excitedly bought as many as would fit into my freezer. Kirby's sign also has messages scrawled on it about "natural" and "no antibiotics, no hormones". Wow, that's all great I thought.

Well more recently I have thought to ask Kirby the details of his chicken operation. He tells me that he raises about 70,000 "birds" a year, and he raises them in 9x12 roofless buildings each containing about 80 birds.
9x12: that's how big our new patio is. When I imagine 80 birds living on our patio, it is not a paradise that I am envisioning. The birds are obviously cramped. And unlike "free-range" chickens these chickens do not have access to the fields around them (although I understand most free-range birds aren't smart enough to venture outside anyway).

"Well, do they all have thier beaks?" I ask
"Yeah, they have their beaks" says Kirby.
I explained to Kirby that I had read somewhere that people who raise chickens will frequently pull off thier beaks so that they don't peck eachother all up while they're mashed together in thier ridiculously undersized cages.
"I feed 'em lots of protein, and when they have enough protein they don't peck"
"I had understood that they pecked because they were stressed from the tight living quarters, but you're saying that their trying to eat eachother?" I asked.
Kirby turned to me in a nice, but pitying, special ed teacher kind of voice and said:
"Well did you know that meat has protein?"
"Yes, I did know that" I say.
"Well if they get protein then they don't peck.
Apparently the tightly packed birds are actually trying to gobble each other up.

Whatever. All I know is that I have basically 3 options for poultry at this time.
#1: buy floppy, fatty Tyson birds from the supermarket and feel terribly guilty while eating moderately edible chicken.
#2: buy Kirby's Kluckers and know the pea-brained birds aren't exactly living the dream, but at least they have their beaks, and also know a ton of fossil fuel wasn't used to get them to my dinner plate
#3: Don't eat chicken -- no way!

While I am disappointed that buying food in an environmentally and socially responsible, and animal-friendly way is all but impossible in America's heartland, I am comforted to at least know that my fried chicken never knew the displeasure of going beakless.

Patio-Ho!

2008-09-14T14:58:00.000-07:00

Look at our awesome new patio! I know this has been much anticipated by the general public what with all the hype and all. It has been much anticipated by us as well, since we actually started the project about 3 months ago. The funny thing is, the actual project only took two days, but we managed to spread it out over an entire season. That does not deter me from planning further projects though. I think the patio is awesome, and I am already drawing up plans for more landscaping and general backyard beautification. Of course I will wait until next year for that since it may snow any day, and that way our blisters will have healed, and hopefully by then Keith will have forgotten how much work this patio was.

Action Shot

Finished result

I think we may even have a few nice evenings left this year for enjoying margaritas outdoors.

Cheers!

This Week In Merle

2008-09-03T10:50:00.000-07:00

Sunday Keith and I drove down to Kearney in order to drop Merle and Braedon off at the airport there, thus concluding their week long Nebraska adventure with us. I think a decent time was had by all. We tried to show the duo some of the finer things Nebraska has to offer including ankle deep rivers, copious dog walks, kite festivals in scorching heat despite concomitant wind storms, and of course a visit from Keith's mom and grandpa.

Merle claims the reading time and "gentle breezes" were relaxing, she seemed to get along well with our children, and she didn't seem too freaked out by ginormous bugs that exist in our back yard.

Keith and I were glad for our first (and in all likelihood last) visit from someone in my family, and we are happy that travel went well for them.

Since most of you have likely already seen the above pics on Keith's blog, let me close with some lovely shots of a perfect golf swing. Go get 'em Tiger.

GQ Golfer

2008-08-20T19:41:00.000-07:00

I never could have predicted this: I never thought I would ever pick up golfing. I guess I just don't see myself in that stereotype. Golfers are pretty much made of time and money aren't they? Golfing happens to be a great distraction from a hectic lifestyle though, and it's a lot easier on your aging body than a lot of other sports I can think of. The game is oddly easy to pick up, but very difficult to master. I say that with only a total of 36 holes under my belt, but I feel confident in my assessment.

I also never could have predicted Keith's interest in the sport. As most of you know Keith is not much for spouting off information about himself, so it wasn't until just recently that I even knew what a die hard golfer he had been in his youth. He's still pretty good, and he looks awfully good sporting a bag of clubs.
He's working on replacing his hazardous, head-flying-off clubs with new ones. We used the new irons today, and here is Keith transferring them to his new, less torn up and duct taped bag.

I'm off to watch some olympic volleyball: Go May/Walsh!

This Just In

2008-08-12T21:23:00.000-07:00

I now have my cell phone back (or at least a very close facsimile with the same number). Feel free to resume sending me pointless and distracting but much appreciated text messages. Or if you are my family, feel free to continue to not ever call me unless you have a medical question.

The Bounty

2008-08-09T19:53:00.000-07:00

It is official. My garden has borne food, therefore I am a gardener. Look at all the different tomatoes I made! I also grew some huge zucchini, but that was sort of an accident. Although the tomatoes have boosted my gardening confidence some, I also had a small blow when I recently tried to harvest some carrots. This is the stuff no one tells you. How in the world can you tell when a root is mature? I figured since carrots were showing up at our farmer's market, then mine must be ready too, right? Wrong.

While I only planted 2 zucchini seeds, the zucchini has, of course overtaken our small garden plot. At first I was overwhelmed by the rate of their growth, but I have since learned that if you pick them small, they are much more manageable and they taste better too. I really like the recipe idea published here for pasta with zucchini ribbons (scroll to bottom for the recipe). I have actually made all three of the recipes there. The pancakes were also delish, the squash goat cheese bean thing, not so much. While I'm on a roll with zucchini, let me share another simple, but great little recipe, courtesy of Mollie Katzen.

Heat some olive oil and pressed garlic over medium heat until the garlic is soft.
Use small zucchini, about 5-6inches long. Cut them in half length wise then place them cut side down in the pan. Cook about 5 minutes.
Turn them over. Sprinkle with bread crumbs and parmesan cheese. Cook 1-2min more, then place the pan under the broiler for a few minutes until the cheese is bubbly and brown.
Delicious!

Seattle Trip

2008-08-09T18:54:00.000-07:00

Keith and I recently got back from an awesome vacation in the Seattle area. Summer is such a lovely time to visit. We went to not one, but two fantastic weddings. We enjoyed countless gourmet meals, time with friends, a reunion with my step-dad and amazing scenery. Here are some pics.

I'm pretty much a hermit

2008-08-07T18:35:00.000-07:00

Today I made a spectacular dinner, or supper for you mid-westerners. It consisted of almost all garden fresh ingredients and farmer's market finds: potato, rosemary, leek, and smoked gouda frittata; cherry tomato, mozerella and fresh basil salad; and fresh from the oven organic wheat bread. Since Keith was on call, I proceeded to cook the meal starting around 6:30pm thinking he would either be home soon, or I could cart a plate down to the hospital to him. Little did I know that Keith had already had a fantastic supper all his own! He had eaten at the annual JMMMMC (way too many Ms) picnic! Why did I not eat there too you ask? Because I forgot! And no one could alert me to the event because I am a hermit! I have been without cellular communication for 3 full weeks now. Being the cheapskates that we are, we also have no land line, so here I sat, alone, happily cooking leeks until they and I were both sweating.

I finally found out about the picnic when I bounded across the street to Dan and Amy's house and asked them to use the phone so that I could check on my husband.

Sigh.

Still, I bet my supper was better than his. And I had a lovely glass of Pinot Noir to boot.

I wonder if this is how farmer's wives used to live. Always a step behind. How did they ever get along without the dear cellular?

I am hoping that the 3 weeks less of cellular waves beaning my brain will be just enough to keep me below the tumor threshold.

Cute Doggies

2008-05-25T19:49:00.000-07:00

Not much going on around here this weekend. Keith is on call 4 days straight, and I am beginning to think he doesn't live here any longer. Me and the dogs have been chillin out by ourselves this weekend.

Here is Lucy enjoying her new summer wading pool/mosquito incubator.

It makes Thena oddly jealous. Here she is attacking Lucy while she bathes.

Lucy relaxing in front of the lilacs - which have already lost all their flowers btw. It seems like they just bloomed for crying out loud. Those bushes are a heck of a lot of work for 2 weeks of flowers, that's all I have to say.

The most exciting thing I did today was to go over to the neighbor's house and help them grout their new kitchen tile. Living the dream.

I Got Worms!

2008-05-23T13:26:00.001-07:00

They came in the mail in a brown USPS box. Keith and I spent a couple of hours making a home for them. It may look like a simple garbage can, but it's actually a simple garbage can filled with cardboard and rocks. Here they are at home in their new compost haven. Don't they look happy?

Actually the worms and worm-bin making progress have been a little more difficult than I had bargained for. The little rascals keep trying to escape. Apparently I lack the necessary skills to make their bin homey enough that they never want to stray outside of it. They like it damp, but not too damp you see. After just one day in the bin there was a massive jail break attempt. The crafty worms had climbed up the sides of the pail and squeezed themselves out of every air hole and lid seam they could find. I found them stretched out across the porch attempting to make their way to the lawn (I guess that's where they were headed -- where else would they be trying to go?). I painstakingly picked up each slimy, grimy little guy and tenderly tossed him back into the scraps.

Since then I have experimented with varying levels of dampness, food, light and air mixtures until I thought I had finally achieved the perfect state of zen for my worms. And they seemed to be staying put, for a time. Then last night we had a huge storm. Somehow the elements managed to soak my bin once again, and when I came home from the ER at 2 am last night, what should I find, but wads of soggy worms scattered all over the porch, glistening in the moonlight. So, I once again performed the labor of love of returning them to their unnatural domicile.

This episode coupled with my recent gardening experiences has left me wondering if I am just not good at things. It seems there was a time in my life where all things came easy. What could have happened? Is it age? Mental slowing? More challenging projects? Did too much focus on medicine and a lack of regular exercise and healthy diet finally squeeze all the practical neurons from my brain?

I guess it doesn't really matter. I'm still quite enjoying the wiggly little bastards. Also, I have little green bean buds and zucchini leaves sprouting out of my tiny backyard garden plot. Who says you need talent or skill to enjoy life?

Keith fashioning boards for the worm-bin.

Oh, and it was Keith's birthday! Can you guess how hold he was?

Husker-Mania

2008-05-14T20:31:00.000-07:00

Here is irrefutable evidence that I am a true Nebraskan -- a Cornhusker in fact. Nobody has to know that we left in the bottom of the ninth and were glad about it when we found out later that the game went to 16 innings and didn't end until past midnight. We enjoyed the game with other Gautreaux/Rinne types, and the weather was fine. Shirley was there, of course, and wouldn't you know that a good 15% of the crowd were old students of hers with a few of Keith's old classmates bespeckled in. Small world Nebraska is!

Being the special mom that Shirley is, we spoiled her by giving her the best: a Perkins Mother's day brunch. You can't beat it. No pictures of that, but here's another of us at the game. Hi Grandpa Rinne!

My Trees are Better Than Yours...

2008-05-07T19:46:00.000-07:00

Damn right, they're better than yours.

So what if I am a terrible gardener and I will never make a strawberry grow. I have awesome trees. Lots of them. They're starting to bloom, and they are super cool. We also have loads of lilac bushes which are a favorite of mine. So who cares if I live almost 5 hours from an airport or an Anthropologie, my little neck of the world is quite nice in springtime.

World's Worst Gardener

2008-04-19T15:20:00.000-07:00

I have a hunch that no one can kill plants faster than I can. Exactly one week ago I left my local garden center full of hope and excitement about my first gardening experience. I busily and lovingly potted fragrant herbs and cute little flowers. Knowing full well that gardening may be tricky for me I had the nice garden lady steer me towards only the hardiest of plants. "This is easy to grow right?" I kept asking. "Oh yes." She would reply. Now, I am not a total gardening moron. I know most plants can't live out in the freezing cold. In BB the last frost is usually around May 10th. So, I asked nice garden lady what I should do with my plants. She replied that they should be outside in a sunny place, and if it was expected to freeze overnight then I should bring them in. Okay! easy enough. I was on my way.

So, how come just a few days later my poor little herbs were so droopy and sad? I went back to the garden center again and asked them what could be wrong. Nice garden lady #2 looked horrified when I told her the herbs had been out overnight. "It was 35 degrees last night!" she exclaimed. Since when is 35 degrees freezing? I want to know. I was not deterred. Even more determined to nurture my plants, I developed a rotation system by which they would receive full sunlight at various windows and patios throughout the day, then spend the night inside. Then Keith and I drove to Kearny. When we left it was 70 and not a cloud in the sky. My plants would be so happy, I thought. And then it hailed. Not just little gravely kind of hail. I'm talking big marbles and gobstoppers falling from the sky. There are tiny decapitated flower buds scattered all around the veranda. The basil plant looks like a fallen soldier. I am left wondering if there is any hope for me.

On a cheerier note, Keith and I used our cute new dessert plates the other night. The shortcake was delicious.

Happy Birthday to Me

2008-04-17T17:47:00.001-07:00

Happy Birthday Shaleah!!! You're 32 years old! And as Keith tells me, I don't look a day over 31. To celebrate my birthday, I am hanging out by myself and composing a birthday blog. That may seem sad to those of you who partied until 4:30am on your recent birthday (Valerie), but for me it's kind of par for the course. I cannot remember the last birthday I had where either Keith or I were not on call. Tonight is no exception with Keith still at the hospital at 9pm. Lucky for me, doggies and the Decemberists are excellent company.

Actually, I have had some good times today. Always friendly neighbor Amy had me over for birthday lattes, and nice clinic staff rushed out over lunch and bought me a last minute cake. The biggest highlight today, though, was when I went shopping in B.B. and I was actually successful in finding some stuff I need. I went to the library and found a not from the 1970s green home and garden makeover book (yippee!), and I found out that my beloved garden center sells all the supplies I will need to build a patio (Yay!). I also bought mattresses for our new trundle daybed. Those of you who can drive a few blocks to a Home Depot and Target and fill all your domestic desires may not appreciate that, but trust me, it was exciting!

Also, I've gotten lots of stellar gifts. I got a fancy dutch oven, and cute apron to wear while using said oven, and a cookbook. I'm sensing a theme here. The 17 year old Shaleah would be rolling her eyes in disgust if she could see 32 yo Shaleah raking in a bunch of cooking stuff, but 32 yo Shaleah seems to like it. I also got a lovely assortment of coffees and hot chocolate which I have been enjoying all week (thanks mom!).

"Spring has changeable weather."

2008-04-11T06:51:00.001-07:00

So states my Nebraska: Guide to the Cornhusker State (nice book, thanks uncle Tim). They ain't kiddin'. Last week Keith and I spent a warm evening lounging in these chairs with our laptops. This week they're buried in snow! Nebraska spring, you tease me with promises of long weekend bike rides only to dump 8 inches of snow on my front lawn.

We had been expecting a visit from members of the Gautreaux family this weekend, but perhaps that will not happen after all.

In other sad ironies, Keith and I finally upgraded our television only to find we couldn't get the big game (or any channels for that matter). This is how we watched it instead.

Not much else new going on here. I am starting to deliver a few babies, which is always fun. And I continue to make small, slow improvements to our home decor. It looks as though flying will never be a part of my future since the one instructor in B.B. has left town. Instead I am seeking out more domestic hobbies like gardening, interior design, and shopping for a myriad of baby showers.

Desert Flowers

2008-03-28T19:31:00.000-07:00

Here are some pictures from our vacation this week. For the most part the fun-having was done during the first few days. For Keith and I, the second half of the week has been spent sitting in a large, overly air-conditioned auditorium for nearly 10 hours straight listening to people talk about various medical topics. The talk on pap smear updates was good, the one on aerospace medicine, not so practical. Truth be told, I love a good CME. I love sitting around and drinking coffee while soaking in what really smart people have to say about the studies I've been reading all year. I love pontificating about various medical practices. It's amazing how much difference in opinion and practice style there is between various clinics and communities. Keith thought I was crazy when I was actually more excited to go the the conference than I was about sight seeing or sitting by the pool. Anyway, enjoy the pics from our "Kat almost died hike", as well as our trip to the botanical gardens. More pics will eventually be available on Flickr as usual.

Top 10 Reasons to Move to Broken Bow

2008-03-24T15:18:00.000-07:00

For those of you who aren't aware of all the attractive offerings of our beloved B-squared, here's a partial list in reverse order of importance:

#10) Nice people. Our garage door has been torn off for over a month, and no one has stolen a single item.
#9) Open spaces. If you like the outdoors, and you don't mind frequent gale force winds and an occasional waft of cattle manure, then you'll love walking or biking on rural roads through rolling plains.
#8) Local produce. Talk about a green-minded people, BB has a nice farmers market throughout the summer. You can even buy local, grass-fed Bison there.
#7) Friendly neighbors. Ours have come through yet again in the doggie daycare department while we're vacationing in AZ.
#6) Very nice doggies live there (yes, I mean ours)
#5) No traffic. You know you're getting spoiled when sitting at the intersection for 30 seconds while waiting to cross the highway causes you to throw your hands up in frustration.
#4) Home cooking. Sort of a necessity rather than a bonus given the dining options are few, but hey, it's still good.
#3) Excellent health care from very qualified professionals.
#2) Housing prices: You can afford a veritable mansion here for the cost of a down payment many other places in the U.S.. The median home price in BB is $57,800.
#1) Keith and Shaleah live there, and if they aren't enough, they now have a big TV.

So, if it hadn't already occurred to you, give it some thought. Broken Bow, "In the middle of everywhere!"

Rich people live here.

2008-03-24T15:06:00.000-07:00

We're in Scottsdale. It's a ritzy suburb of Phoenix that seems to exist solely for the purpose of helping people consume. The road our hotel is located on is lined with countless restaurants, hotels, coffee shops and shopping centers. And if you don't like the Crate & Barrel across the street, you hop on the shopping trolly and ride 8 miles south to the next one. Awesome! Today I bought cute dessert plates at Anthropologie, a lemon juicer, and espresso cups -- all things that are very hard to find in rural NE, but easy enough to take back as a carry on.

We have four days of Continuing Medical Education (CME) conferences here, and four days of consumption. Kat and Jeffrey were kind enough to drive out here and entertain us for the weekend. We did lots of cool stuff including a nice hike and a visit to Frank Lloyd Wright's winter home (see this blog for professional style description of events).

When we come back we will be smarter, tanner and better dressed. Very successful CME week indeed.

A good rule of thumb: Any time you go to observe nature, bring binoculars

2008-02-20T10:05:00.000-08:00

Did you know we have a national insect? (I know Keith and Jeffrey probably did, but other people with normal sized brains?) Well, I didn't. I have no idea why we need one, but I guess if we're going to have one, the monarch is a worthy recipient of the title. Monarchs may not seem real sexy to the casual observer, but I'm here to tell you that they're hot! Monarchs have a pretty amazing life cycle. For example, Monarchs from the Northern Rocky mountains migrate south to Mexico each year where they inhabit no more than a 70 square mile area for the winter. The migration cycle is longer than the butterflies life span, so somehow their tiny little bug brains have to hold the navigation information in such a way that it can be passed on to future generations so they can complete the round trip.

This winter Christa and I decided to escape our respective tundras and travel down to Mexico to observe the hibernating butterflies in the Michoacan state. Neither of us are really butterfly buffs or naturalists of any sort, but we were both incredibly impressed with the experience. It was definitely worth the three and a half day trip it took us to get there (no joke!). When we were there we met a guy who loves Monarchs so much, he got his PhD in Monarch life cycles. He now works at the Smithsonian, but he comes back to Mexico each winter to lead nature tours of the Monarch sanctuaries. How cool are you sir?

This picture shows the butterflies all clumped onto tree branches where they are hibernating. (If one did not bring binoculars one might have missed this). Monarch watching wasn't all we did though. During our week long hiatus from our husbands, we also managed to hike a volcano, visit a colonial city, and sip pina coladas poolside before heading out to the sand for some volleyball. (Another rule of thumb: when hiking volcanoes in Mexico, don't tell your guide you're pregnant unless you really want to freak him out.) Mom and baby did great, and we're already planning our next sunny vacation.

Bad Ass Mountain Biking Chicks

2008-01-02T13:22:00.000-08:00

These are old pics (obviously), but with the freezing cold weather and flat landscape here in B-squared, there has been a paucity of outdoor activity ops and therefore related photo ops. I miss the Rockies, but I am doing my best to transition to small town plain type activities. We've cross country skied a few times. Last week I played basketball with Keith and other large, hairy people. I am not in good shape. Running up and down the court for two hours straight without a break nearly killed me. I am not exaggerating. My VO2 max is probably a negative value at this point in the winter. Also at multiple points I was literally writhing around on the court when my calves cramped up. I could barely walk for two days after that. Also I am tiny compared to men. I don't know how to do anything except post up and rebound, and when I'm in the key I get batted around like rag doll. It doesn't help that when I finally had an open shot, a certain loving husband (whom I will not name) reached out with his infinitely extensible mitt and swatted the ball back at me. Isn't there some sort of unspoken rule against that? There should be. I'm going back tonight, but this time I'm going to rig it so that said husband is on my team.

Winter is Here

2007-12-08T12:27:00.002-08:00

There's a bit of a snow storm across Nebraska today. Keith is on call in the ER waiting for the ambulance to bring him his next crash victim. Not wanting to be one of those victims, I canceled the shopping trip I had planned to the metropolis of Grand Island. This has had two effects, the first is that people I love will be getting a lot of stuff from Amazon this year, and the second is that I have time to blog. Unfortunately I don't have much to blog about, so instead I will post pics.

It's funny looking at these pics. I think they convey a lot, but without some text, I think they are probably totally misleading. Like if I didn't tell you so, you may never guess that the telescope Keith seems to be expertly gazing through has actually been collecting dust since our first Christmas together when I bought it for him. It is only now, two years later, that it has finally had its debut. I would have been wise to listen to his mother who suggested buying the least expensive model out there, since Keith actually likes lying on his back to gaze at the stars much more than he likes fiddling to focus a high powered telescope on distant planetary features. Still, the moon did look really cool that night.

I think these pictures capture the joy of playing in the snow with the puppies and maybe even the relaxed warmth of the fire. What they can never convey is the stench that exudes from those cute pups' coats as the snow melts away from their filthy puppy skin.

Even though I have been yet unsuccessful in getting tall pictures to come into my blog upright, I still wanted to put in our "Christmas photo". What you are missing here, but could easily guess if you ever met our dogs, is that it took us about 15 harried minutes of corralling our indoor livestock to get this perfectly posed pic. And if Keith smile looks strained, I think it probably is.

Hope everyone is having a good holiday. We certainly are.

Catolog Shopping

2007-11-08T19:12:00.000-08:00

Whenever people want to commiserate with me about moving to a small town, it's always the shopping that they bring up. "Oh, don't you miss the mall?" This is a surprisingly big factor in people's choice of local. People need their Wal-Mart, JC Penney, and Target. This I don't get. To me the mall is a fairly undesirable place you endure only to get cool stuff. With all the great delivery options out there, it seems to me that online shopping is the way to go. They'll even send you catalogs just in case you forgot about all the neat things you didn't know you needed. This is the major downside of online shopping. As you buy, the catalogs start multiplying in your mailbox. Today, I got this bizarro catalog in the mail called Free People.

I've never even heard of this place, but perusing the catalog taught me a lot about what I can only assume is Tibet. Like, it's warm enough to sit in your tent fashioned from designer sheets and quilts wearing your underwear, but not quite warm enough to do it without a hat.

Also, the hip thing is to wear your child's winter mitten/hat ensemble over your disco minidress when you're off to do heavy manual labor in your work boots. Tibet must be a fascinating place. (Okay, I do realize that it's run by the same people that run my beloved Anthro, but I can still make fun).

Uberinformed husband of mine found this service you can supposedly use to stop the mailings. So far we've requested to stop Anthropologie, Athleta, Sundance, Garnet Hill and many, many more. In actuality I'm not sure we've stopped anything. We still get like 6 Victoria Secret catalogs weekly (two copies of each issue). The problem is that they're smarter than we are. The other day I returned an ill-fitting pair of shorts to Athleta only to have the replacement pair come with two more catalogs from that company. Also, even iron-willed Keith is not strong enough to overcome the temptation of the beautiful catalogs. As I opened the browser to start this blog, this is what I saw. What can you do?

Yard Beautification

2007-10-21T13:18:00.000-07:00

This week our lives focused on our yard. First these guys (and their monster crane) were kind enough to hall away the infamous Scheffler stone that has marked this yard for so long. Now we have a gigantic crater in its place.

When it comes to yard work, Keith may be a little out of his element, but Lucy turned out to be a decent hauler awayer of branches (of course she takes as many out of the pile as she brings to it -- we're working on it).

Unfortunately our compost pile was quickly overrun with what can only be termed a shit ton of leaves. And you don't even see the huge piles that were hauled off to the dump.

You'll have to trust me that our yard was pristine, because here's what our yard looked like the very next day. As you can see that tree is magic and produces an endless supply of fresh autumn leaves daily!

Keith's dad was kind enough to contribute to the beautification with some flowers. Is it just me or are these guys looking a little tired? Especially that little blob up front. I'm not even sure you can recognize it as a living plant in this pic. I'm sure T.G. knows what he's doing.

Happy Halloween.

Super Sized

2007-10-08T18:47:00.000-07:00

We officially started work last week. Keith has been toiling with the new electronic medical record and working up an appetite.

I'm not sure the photo does justice to the sheer mass of spaghetti on that plate, but believe me, it's impressive.

And half a loaf of bread too.

Look at him go!

The puppies are enjoying making a mockery of our pricey new fence by ramming it with all their body weight until the slats pop out allowing them their freedom. Such ingenious puppies!

Living with Keith is not making me smarter

2007-09-17T18:15:00.000-07:00

It would seem that Keith is the smart one and I am the approachable one. Since this post I have recieved two emails from friends asking me what Twitter is. Yesterday my dad emailed me to ask how to get his gigantic video clip down to a size that could be posted on YouTube. Three years ago people never would have dreamt of asking me these questions. Simply living with brainiac man does not make me a brainiac. I'm better with pondering the meaning of life or living room color schemes. Please direct questions accordingly!

Anthropologizing

2007-09-14T15:59:00.001-07:00

No, that's not a term for expressing remorse for something relating to ancient cultures. It's what's I'm doing to our house because of my addiction to/affliction with shopping at Anthropologie. I have a love hate relationship with this store. I love everything in it and I hate how overinflated the prices are. But I'm one up on them, because I have almost never payed full price for one of their items, so I am only paying slightly more than what each item is worth. Ha!

You may have already seen this on Keith's blog, but here's our latest addtion.

Then there's these.

(The last ones are gifts from a fellow Anthro addict.)

If I don't get to working soon, our house will so be chalked full of sunbursts, lava swirls and other colorful, contemporary mish-mashes, it'll make your head spin.

The Good Life

2007-09-13T19:40:00.000-07:00

Keith and I continue to settle into our new home here in Nebraska. As we have not started working yet, our lives are pleasantly simple if a bit isolated. These past few weeks I have filled my time with internet shopping, puppy walking, and town meandering. Happening upon a set of recycling bins at the Jack and Jill grocery mart is by far the most noteable event in my life as of late. Here's Keith packing cardboard boxes from internet retailers around the country into the tiny cubby. Just stuff, stuff and bye bye consumer guilt!

Also, the weather's nice here, so we had a little barbeque.

A very little barbeque. Keith is shaping up to be a fine grill master. Maybe next year we'll promote him to a more appropriately sized grill.

T minus 8 days until mountain biking vacation part deux. Colorado here I come... back.

Whakapapa

2007-09-05T20:49:00.000-07:00

I dedicate this philosophical post to M.Standridge, in commemoration of and grievance for the end of his great blog.

The other day I was listening to Terry Gross interview Sekou Sundiata (he died recently, so the interview was re-aired). Sekou Sundiata does spoken word poetry, and he has this rich, deep voice to complement his great poetry. While I really enjoyed his readings, what piqued my interest was part of the interview where he told Terry about coming home for a family reunion. During the reunion a story about his great grandfather emerged. His relatives described his defiant great grandfather who had escaped cruel slave owners only to be turned in later by his fearful family. It was a story Sekou had never heard. He found it terribly interesting in its own right , but it also held special interest to him because it was about one of his ancestors. He wondered how his relatives could have kept such a great story from him, and what other treasures they may hold in their memories.

When Keith and I were in New Zealand we heard the native Maori speak about their Whakapapa (Fa’-Ka-Pa-Pa). It is the word they use to describe their tradition of passing on oral heritage. Even in a modern age of television and internet, the oral tradition was still alive and well and talked about with regularity. A ski area we went to even bore the name Whakapapa.

I’ve thought about this some with regards to my family. I think it’s relatively rare that we get much oral tradition around my house. I think part of it is cultural, but part of it no doubt is because a lot of the memories are so painful. Nevertheless, when I do hear my parents recount the story of how they sold all of their material possessions for silver coins and bought a burro to ride to California, or about how they lived on cantaloupes from their garden and home brewed root beer for almost an entire year, I get that same sense of interest and joy that I think Sekou Sundiata was describing. I wonder what other stories my parents have that they haven't thought to share. Even if some of it is as horrible as a southern lynching, along with the stories come threads of bravery, humor and everything else, and it’s all worth passing along.

Coming Soon to a Clinic Near You…

2007-09-05T19:43:00.000-07:00

I guess Keith and I are famous. And all it took was 8 years of college, three years of residency and a move to the middle of Nebraska to finally get the attention we deserve. We just arrived in our new home town today, and while I was out running errands people kept beaming at me and saying “Oh, you’re the new doctor!”. I think this gigantic ad they’ve been running for the past three weeks may have something to do with it.

Does this mean I have to stop wearing baseball caps, flip-flops and yesterday’s jean shorts to run errands? I certainly hope not. I also hope people don’t wonder why I’m married to a guy that looks about 19.

Iron Chef New Zealand

2007-08-28T03:38:00.001-07:00

Dining in NZ has been a fun and varied experience. Regardless of where we go, it seems that there are countless restaurants to chose from, each beckoning us with open doors.* The highest quality meal so far was probably the leg of lamb on roasted vegetables and potato mash that was prepared by a five star chef at Cafe #6 in Paihia. He had relocated to this small, remote seaside restaurant when his wife's doctor told her she needed to move out of the city in order to reduce her stress. The food was amazing. We were one of two couples in the place that night, and the boisterous chef kept coming out to make sure our meals were okay. (He also encouraged me to eat more, stating that he felt a woman should have something you could hold onto.)

Here's a picture from one of my other favorite dining experiences here:

You've probably already read about it on Keith's blog. What really made it a great experience wasn't the food so much (semi-raw chicken can never really be great), but the live music performed by the owner was supremely entertaining.

Last night we ate Mexican food. Sort of. This was actually the first Mexican restaurant we had seen. The menu included a glossary of terms such as "taco" and "enchilada". Very exotic. The menu also included seviche and sangria and there was a picture of a matador on the wall. I ordered a lemonade to go with my meal. The waitress/owner/Indian lady politely brought me a Sprite. "Oh, I ordered lemonade" I said. "Uh huh", she replied and walked away. The delicious "lemonade" complemented my not-very-Mexican chicken nicely.

Today we happened upon a Korean place. From the outside it looked like it was a quick, cheap eat, but once we got inside we realized the place was actually quite big, crowded for being 2 o'clock, and there was a giant projection screen t.v. showing Asian pop videos. We ordered two simple stir fries, which turned out to include like ten separate dishes of mysterious food-like items. Even after we were finished eating I could only identify two of the objects from the tiny bowls.

Thrice sweetened mystery beverage, bonus!

The ordering process in restaurants is as varied as the type of cuisine available. Sometimes a waitress does all the things you expect a waitress to do, but other times you're expected to get up and order at the bar. You may pay as you order or you may pay at the end. Maybe you get sat with menus, but you still have to go and place your order. Or maybe the food is sitting there in a glass case and you just go and grab it for yourself. One thing that doesn't vary is that you always have to get up to pay your tab, and you never need to tip.

*This is a notable drawback of dining in NZ in the winter time. Everybody has to have their damn door open. I know it's a temperate climate and all, but I would argue that if it's cold enough to have your log fire burning, then it's clearly too cold to have the doors agape.

Sleeping in a van is making me smarter

2007-08-22T13:04:00.000-07:00

8/15/07
I am the furthest thing from a history scholar. I would definitely lose to any fifth grader in a battle of American or any other history. In fact I have always dreaded history so much that in college, in order to fulfill my history requirements, I took a class called Philosophy of Religion. The class basically focused on various philosophers arguments for or against the existence of god. It was my favorite college course, but I still have no idea why it counted as a history credit. The upside to being ignorant, however, is that now when I read history I am constantly surprised, sometimes shocked and always entertained.

Today I finished Undaunted Courage by Stephen Ambrose. Keith refuses to read anything by Stephen Ambrose because of some plagiarism claims. I don't know anything about that. I do know that the author's writings tend to drip with American patriotism and are from a traditional white, male perspective. Nevertheless I find his writing well organized and entertaining. The book focuses on the life of Meriwether Lewis including the expedition he and Wiliam Clark's led across the American west in 1804.

One thing I found interesting is both Lewis and Clark's complete inability to spell. This is something I struggle with as well, but their spelling is so poor that after a while I started to wonder if looking at all those misspelled words would somehow confuse me further and cause my spelling to become even worse (alas, I have spell check, so I'm alright). Here's an example of a passage from Clark's journal:

"The men has to haul with all their Strength wate & art, maney times every man all catching the grass & knobes & Stones with their hands to give them more force in drawing on the Canoes & Loads, and notwithstanding the Coolness of the air in high presperation and every halt [the men] are asleep in a moment, maney limping from the Soreness of their feet Some become fant for a fiew moments, but no man Complains all go Chearfully on -- to State the fatigues of this party would take up more of the journal than other notes which I find Scercely time to Set down."

It's not just the spelling. I mean, what's with all those random capital letters? Despite this peculiarity, the book is undeniably interesting as a look into the thoughts and character of Meriwether Lewis. The title is appropriate. Lewis and Clark have an extraordinary amount of courage, and I would say sometimes stupidly so. They were so confident in their mission and in their men that they managed all sorts of seemingly impossible feats, such as taking heavy canoes down class V rapids, confidently parading through hostile native American territories, and surviving wild (usually provoked) Grizzly bear attacks. Also, for those of us who only know of the story at an elementary level, the book has a "surprise ending" which was tragic, but also one that provided insight into Meriwether Lewis that I would not have otherwise surmised.

I guess an unintended positive side effect of renting a van to tour New Zealand is that, sans internet and television, you may learn some history.

Blowing the Travel Wad

2007-08-16T14:30:00.000-07:00

Anybody ever wonder how much it costs to travel in NZ? I'm not even talking about the astronomical airfare costs, I'm strictly talking food, entertainment and lodging. Having been poor all my life I have only been to poor countries while on vacation thus taking advantage of the strong US dollar. Thanks to poor Mexicans, South Americans, and Europeans, I have really had some kick ass vacations. Thanks guys! The NZ dollar is another thing however. Our Lonely Planet guide said to expect to pay around $100 per day, per person on food and entertainment alone -- that wasn't even including lodging and travel mind you. One of the reasons for the exorbitant figure is that every tourist attraction comes with an astronomical price tag. You can't even really hike for free. Also they have all these crazy adventure sports the kiwis have dreamt up in order to strip us of hard earned dollars. So far Keith and I have not really been at all tempted by Zorbing, bungy jumping, canyoning, and we're simply too cheap for any of the heli-variation activities. This has left us room to shop. Today I blew the wad on these.

I can further justify the purchase because my permanent residence is currently in a place where shoe shops are next to non-existent, and internet shopping for boots is all but impossible. I mean, even if you figure out your size in a certain brand, what are the chances that the boots will fit you right in the arch, ankle and calf? Not only that, but you really have to feel the leather and inspect the seams up close to make sure you've got yourself a quality product.

What this all means, is that Keith and I have to eat day old muffins and cook Top Ramen in the rain in order to get back on budget, but it's totally worth it.

X-TREME Mountain Biking!

2007-08-06T19:34:00.000-07:00

Keith obviously has the official NZ blog complete with daily activities, beautiful pics etc. I'm generally happy to just let him do the blogging and save the $$ on internet time, but today was inspiring.

We're in Rotarua now, and for the past couple of days we've been exploring the Whakarewarewa national forest single track. I knew NZ was world famous for mtn biking, and I think now I know why. First of all everywhere you go it's totally beautiful, even a day like today which was basically overcast and drizzly, was still sort of mystically beautiful. But really I think the great thing is that places like Rotarura cater to mtn bikers. There are tons of trails designated for mtn bikers only. That means no slowing down for hikers and no negotiating horsie doo doo and hoof prints. Also the trails are well managed with signage and directionality. This translates to safer, faster riding. We happen to be here in the winter time, and in Seattle that would mean closed trails. Here nobody seems to care how deeply rutted and muddy the trail gets -- it never closes. Finally, the mountain biking opportunities are ubiquitous as are the mountain bikers. That is why the past two days have constituted the most X-TREME mountain biking.

Today's ride consisted of about an hour of grueling uphill road climb (on legs dead from yesterday) to get to the top where we could cruise down a mix of trails. The first was a class 4 meaning tough but just short of the crazy suicide jumps and stuff that would make it class 5 (the most X-TREME class). This trail was loaded with deep mud that had seen enough fat tires that some of the ruts were so deep and narrow that you really didn't have enough clearance to pedal. It reminded me of high school softball practice where a rainy day meant dedicated sliding practice and head to toe mud from sliding into home plate. In other worlds it was a slip-slidy, verging on out of control fun-fest. The remainder of the trails got more dangerous and less fun as my skinny little legs ran out of steam to power the bike, and my arms and hands turned to jello making the down hill trek all the more unsteady. Still, it was a great time and any mountain biking adventure that ends with no permanent damage to either of our reproductive organs is a success in my book.

I'm Sailing! I'm Sailing!

2007-07-12T16:03:00.000-07:00

Keith has now been to Seattle twice, and each time there have been record setting high temperatures. Coincidence? Probably. Yesterday we continued our life of leisure in the baking sun by going sailing.

Keith and Trav

Our Skipper (aka aunt Leslie)

Other stuff we've been up to:

Grueling bike ride

Tired us

Hopefully next week will be cooler.

Tragedy Strikes the Family RV

2007-07-09T13:57:00.000-07:00

Thankfully, true tragedies are rare in our everyday lives. This week was an exception to that. My dad and his wife Kim recently purchased a used RV in order to take a family vacation this summer. They were only two days into their trip when this happened:

That's what had been their shiny new (to them) RV. It took all of 30 minutes for it to burn to the ground. The forest rangers commended my dad for not driving onto the side of this remote road where a huge forest fire would have certainly ensued. In their haste to vacate the vehicle (they were driving it when the fire started under the hood), they lost some valuable items. The most notable was a laptop containing the only copy of a book Kim had been working hard on. I think it's natural to want to find meaning in something like this. I'm not a spiritual person, so I am not sure there is meaning here, but one thing's for sure: this event reminds us all what is really important in life. They may have lost a lot of possessions, but we are all so happy that Kim, Dad, Gaby and Vron are all safe at home!

Adventures in Moving

2007-06-27T19:14:00.000-07:00

You would think you could take the misery out of moving when you pay someone else a good chunk of cash to do it for you. Not so much, it turns out. Our movers arrived at 9am (they were supposed to be there at 8). I took that as a bad omen along with the fact it took them about 20 minutes just to get the back of their truck opened up. When they finally did raise the door there was an obvious problem. There was already a house-load of stuff taking up 2/3 of the truck. There was clearly no way our ginormous bedroom set and overstuffed couches were going to fit in there. The friendly Bosnian movers looked at me and assured me with a smile "no problem, it will fit". They spent the next four hours stuffing and finagling and finally looking rather spent in the 90º sun. Eventually Keith had to drive 30 minutes to the next town over to rent a U-Haul for rest of our stuff. (Incidentally, the U-Haul was big enough we could have fit everything in there and avoided the movers entirely, but then who would have lifted that ridiculous bedroom set?) It wasn't until 11pm that the truck arrived at our new house, and even with Keith and I working as hard as the poor movers, it wasn't until 3am that we finally got everything inside (along with half of Broken Bow's bug population taking advantage of the open door invite). I asked the movers if that was the worst job ever for them. They shook their heads and said, "Oh no, no. This is nothing." I don't know what kind of percentage of the payment they get, but I hope it's significant.

That was two days ago. We're still not even close to being done unpacking. But we have decided that our new house is most excellent. We love it! I painted the bathroom yesterday.

Maybe a little more cool-minty then I had planned, but it's o.k.

The fence guys put the posts up for our new doggie sanctuary today, and we took an evening stroll up to the pond where Lucy enjoyed a nice swim. Broken Bow definitely has puppy approval.

Here's us taking a break at Emily's Soda Fountain.

More pics forthcoming as we continue to explore Valspar's color palate.

The Last 48 Hours

2007-06-21T16:19:00.001-07:00

Tuesday was my last night on call at my current job. It was all going okay until 12:30 am when I got a call from the nursing station:

"This is Karen at the Hospital. I have a 58 year old woman here who stubbed her toe at 7 pm, and now she wants it looked at."

I rarely swear around my coworkers, but on this occasion it seemed called for. "You have got to be ***** kidding me." Why in the world didn't she come in during the day time?" I got dressed as slowly as possible in order to let myself cool off. I took care not to tidy my hair or rub the sleep from my eyes so that the patient would hopefully notice this was a human they were disturbing for their "emergency" -- a human who has to work a full day tomorrow. As it turned out, the patient was a very sweet lady whom I had met several times in clinic before. She has had the most terrible of luck and has suffered through both a bone marrow and a kidney transplant. The prednisone she has to take daily has thinned her bones to the point that she actually broke her ankle when she stubbed her toe. She was trying to tough it out at home, but the pain was too much. so she finally called a friend to bring her in. Maybe it could have waited until the morning, but I couldn't help but feel like a jerk for being angry at her.

The rest of the night and the next day went downhill from there. I saw one non-emergent emergency after another. Each time I finished seeing a patient I would lie down just long enough to think maybe I would get a few precious hours of sleep only to be awoken by another phone call. Eventually the sun came up, the puppies started stirring, and it was time for a new day. I faced my clinic without a badly needed shower, behind before I started, and still trying to catch up from last night's workload.

I started my clinic day with an elderly patient's son informing me that he didn't agree with my assessment and care of his mother's ankle fracture. I had shown him the x-rays, and because of his extensive carpentry experience he was certain that he knew how things should line up. He felt that the radiologist and I were both wrong in our assesment of the fracture and its healing progress. I tried my best to be empathic and to explain to him that the disagreement about the x-ray read was really moot, and it wasn't going to have any impact on her fracture healing or management. He told me that the more I talked the more he distrusted me, and what's more, he thinks I should have had her moving her ankle sooner. Moving her ankle sooner? Did he learn that through carpentry too? Outwardly I nodded and offered a referral for a second opinion. Inwardly I could not fathom how he ever got so confident with reading x-rays, here I thought you had to go to medical school for that.

I walked out of that patient's room to find one of my partners waiting for me to ask if I could see one of his patients for him. Today was his day off, and the family was very anxious for an appointment. Sure, no problem, I said. As it turns out the patient was quite complex. I spent over an hour with his wife and strongly opinionated daughter about his not one, but two cancers as we tried to come to an agreement about the best care plan for him. The family had been through a lot trying to get his bladder cancer worked up. They had waited over a month to see a specialist in town, only to have that specialist cancel his visit. They then found a specialist over 3 hours away. They packed up their confused, agitated and frail loved one and toted him all the way to Fort Collins. When they got there the doctor told them he would not see the patient because he had not received his records and CT scan reports from our clinic. They turned around and came home. I ended up hospitalizing the patient as much for the family's comfort as for the patient's, all the while knowing that I would later have to fight with the social worker and insurance company to justify the admission.

After finishing up with this patient I hurried to the next room where a heavy set man greeted me like this:

"I've been sitting here 30 minutes already. A man could be dead by now!"

He had walked into the clinic without an appointment because his back was hurting. He thought he may be having a heart attack. It turned out he just strained his lumbar spine. I carefully examined him and offered my opinion and advice for care. He huffed off, never thanking me.

Another patient left without a word before I ever got to see her. I had gotten terribly behind, and she was simply tired of waiting I guess. She came back over the lunch hour, and I saw her then instead of eating a proper lunch.

I went home tired. I fell asleep on the couch at 6pm and didn't wake up until 5:30 this morning.

I started today by seeing my Alzheimer's patient in the hospital. I had more information back from the various lab tests, and I was better able to treat him and to give the family a more accurate prognosis. The respiratory treatments and antibiotics we put him on had helped him breath more comfortably, and he was eating again. The family agreed to have him go to the nursing home with hospice care. They smiled and laughed and seemed so much more comfortable with everything. His wife thanked me over and over for being compassionate and for explaining everything to them so well. She had tears in her eyes when she told me she was so glad that she had met me. I did almost nothing except just listen.

I finished my clinic. It would be my last here in Wray. Some of my patients told me they were sorry to see me leave and they shook my hand and thanked me for their care. I went downtown for lunch and a lady stopped me to thank me for taking care of her neck and arm pain. The physical therapy was working. She felt like I listened to her better than anyone had before.

It doesn't take long in medicine to realize what a roller coaster ride it can be. There are too many days when people are ungrateful, frustrated, distrustful or simply a challenge because their diagnosis is elusive. When I do get thanks and praise, my initial reaction is to shake my head, because I know I am only doing what anyone in my position would do, and because I know how truly limited I am in most cases. At the same time though, I also force myself to soak it in, because those are the reactions that I need in order to feel like my work has meaning, and those are the reactions that I need to let me know that maybe now and then I do have a positive impact on people's lives. Those are the reactions that make the 12:30 am phone calls worth while.

Monthiversary

2007-06-13T16:56:00.000-07:00

Warning: this post is not intended for the emotionally immature, and the non-sappy among you should probably just skip it.

My dad told me this week that when he read my first blog post his initial reaction was that of protective concern that my new husband may be cruel or controlling, because why else would he cancel our t.v subscription without my input? And I completely agree! Kidding of course. I tend to give Keith a hard time a lot about this and that. In actuality he is a great husband. He doesn't know I think this. He only knows that I think he never takes the trash out or cleans the bathroom in a timely fashion, and that I wish we would synchronize our bedtimes to maximize cuddle time.

Today is not our monthiversary. Our monthiversary falls on the second of each month (marking our first date and our first kiss). We never celebrate our monthiversary, because we always forget. This despite it being on Keith's Google calender. The following is the kind of thing I would write about Keith on our monthiversary if I could ever remember it was coming.

One of the things that first attracted me to Keith is his rare intellect. You would be surprised how hard it is to find a really smart guy who isn't a total weirdo, and you'd be crazy to hold out for a smart, well-adjusted, cute, athletic AND nice guy, but that's what I've got. The thing that impresses me about his intellect isn't just that he is always up on current events, or that he knows who directed every film that was ever made, or that his knowledge of computers and gadgetry rivals Bill Gates. Those things do continually impress me, but it's his broad understanding about the world, its events and its people that I really admire. It is impossible to take him by surprise with news of some outlandish action by a government official, or some crazy bit of world politics, because it all seems to make sense to him.

Another thing I noticed right off was his hard work ethic and his eagerness to help his classmates. Keith always wants the people around him to be happy and comfortable. Unlike so many people in medicine, it is not hubris that drives him. He truly cares for his peers and patients.

Keith is a great basketball player, but when he plays against me he always plays just hard enough to make it fun and challenging, and he doesn't have the male ego issue going on if I do end up winning.

I don't think Keith realizes how much I look forward to 5 o'clock when he will be coming home, or how much I hate to have to sleep without him for even one night. He also may not know that on those occasions that I am upset at him, I am never able to sustain the anger because the second I look up into his sweet face and eyes, I can't help but see how truly kind he is, and then I get to thinking that maybe it's me that's a bit crazy for getting mad in the first place.

Keith gives me absolute freedom to live my life any way I choose. He'll let me be as active or as lazy as I want to be. He puts up with my protean moods and decisions without so much as an eye roll. He would support me working 80 hours a week or no hours a week. He let me get the most destructive dogs on the planet without a hint of dissent despite never really wanting a dog of his own. His concern is only that I am happy.

So, dad, you needn't worry. I am in the best of hands.

Nothing Better to Blog About

2007-06-13T16:24:00.000-07:00

You know those annoying stay at home moms who have nothing better to talk about than every detail of their newborn's behavior because that's all they know and experience? Little Tommy's first smile, his burps and doo-doos, etc. Well it turns out I'm way worse than them. For some time I have been obsessed w/my pups stooling activities (quantity, frequency, consistency, and location). I'm always interested to see what little plastic or metal surprises might reemerge from their little intestines. ("Hey, that's where that milk cap went!") Today I was so impressed I had to snap this shot.

That's poo!

Okay, that's poo about two hours after the dogs consumed an entire bag of rice and a half bag of split peas. There are about six of these in my yard. It proves my theory that the dogs don't actually ever absorb anything they eat, which in turn explains their insatiability and my going broke on designer dog food.

For one of the first times in my life, I am actually ahead of the game.

2007-06-11T16:18:00.000-07:00

Keith and I are roughly two weeks away from our big move from out of this tiny town and on to a similar tiny town. Those of you who know my propensity to procrastinate won't believe this, but we're already mostly packed.

Living like this is the downside of being prepared.

This photo actually illustrates another weakness of mine, which is my lack of patience. I'm trying to be good, but I couldn't resist the planters on sale at Crate and Barrel (I blame Kat for this, because I would never have stumbled upon C&B's outlet site without her blog). I also have a huge area rug and a hand painted drum table on the way (what sense does it make to move furniture in only to move it back out in order to place a rug under it?). Nevertheless, I am cutting myself off from internet shopping. Instead I'm focusing my time on virtually moving in:

Most of the stuff in this sketch, we don't even own yet, but it's going to look fantastic!

In more exciting news of preparation, we have booked are trips to Seattle and New Zealand!!! We'll be in Seattle July 3rd through July 25th. I think the trip to New Zealand may be the coolest vacation ever. I hope Keith agrees.

This is how we will be getting around. We're planning lots of mountain biking and hiking, so I hope the showers in these things are somewhat effective. We'll be hanging out with the kiwi-heads for almost five weeks before we have to start work on October 1st.

The puppies will be in good hands with Keith's dad. He can't say we didn't warn him!

Can someone please explain to me why Paris Hilton is famous?

2007-06-07T10:14:00.000-07:00

I tend not to take interest in celebrity gossip, but thanks to my husband and podcasts of The Best Week Ever, my serene bubble of ignorance has been penetrated. When Paris Hilton kept showing up in the news I finally had to ask: "who is she and why is she famous?". To which Keith replied: "well... (insert thoughtful, chin-rubbing expression here)". The answer he eventually came up with was something along the lines that she is famous because she's super rich and she parties a lot. (Insert my ponderous furrowed brow here) "Uh huh..." I still didn't get it.

So now she's famous not only for the rich girl, show your drunken nakedness on Youtube stuff, but also because she's a criminal. This is where I start to get interested. Not the criminal part, lots of celebs are criminals and drug addicts, and what have you. It's the part about her serving FIVE days of her 45 day sentence that piqued my interest. Not only that, but she was in some special celebrity part of the jail for those five days. AND, she's finishing out her sentence in a mansion. Jail time in a mansion. I hate to break it to the courts, but I don't think that's punishment. Somehow I doubt your typical, average income drunk driver who breaks parole (twice) would ever get such a leniant sentence. (Jeffrey can correct me here if I'm wrong -- or at least he can in a year or two).

Okay, here's an idea. The California jails are overcrowded right? So how 'bout we send Paris home as planned, and to actually make it a punishment for her, we could send, say, 15-20 other inmates with her. Based on the way Paris interacts with her dog I think this would truly be severe punishment for everyone involved.

How Real Life Differs From HGTV

2007-06-03T17:48:00.000-07:00

But first, here are some pics from Elliott's graduation from the Air Force Acadamy.

We had a good time with the Gautreaux clan.

The Thunderbirds were impressive.

Congratulations Elliott!

Now onto our segment on home makeovers. Keith and I went to B.B. (that's how I'll be referring to it henceforth) this weekend. We wanted to get a jump start on moving in. The puppies loved the gigantic yard, and I loved all the trees and bushes which are just Northwesty enough to make me feel at home.

Our major undertaking this weekend was to paint the master bedroom. Finally, my chance to put all those hours of HGTV viewing into action! We did have a couple of issues with the taping process (takes a long time, paint pealed off with the tape), but overall things went well. We love the color of our new room, and it compliments our new duvet perfectly. (btw, we learned that it is actually easier to just skip the whole taping process since the paint would just wipe off the wood trim anyway, or apparently a simple denatured alcohol solution will remove paint from wood without damaging the finish if the paint is stubborn).

Not nearly as glamorous as HGTV either.

Nobody seems to know where Broken Bow is.

2007-05-31T18:59:00.000-07:00

I'm not just talking about friends in Colorado or my family in Seattle. I mean like even folks from Nebraska don't know where it is. This worries me, because if people don't know where I live, they will surely never visit me. Even if people do figure out where I am, what are the chances they will fly to NE then drive 3 hours and 45 minutes from the airport to get to Broken Bow? I've got to figure out something appealing about the place that may draw people there (besides that I live there, that clearly won't be enough). I could direct people here, but my family may be scared away by the song, not to mention the horses and cowboy hats. I also doubt the Christian motorcycle rally on June 1st will really tempt them. I guess I could buy lots of cool stuff for our house so people will visit. A plasma television, a hot tub? I still doubt it will be enough. Visitors were scarce even when I lived in Greeley (which most of my family considered rural btw).

Even if you never visit me, at least let me tell you where Broken Bow is. It is smack in the middle of nowhe-- I mean Nebraska. It's actually not too far from being the center of the U.S. Keith will try to tell you it is in Western, NE, but I have proof that he's wrong:

For those of you who've asked, this
is where we will be working. As well as this hospital.

We'll be moving in June 25th. Keep us in mind next time you make vaca plans!

Goodbye Raising Arizona,

2007-05-26T08:03:00.001-07:00

Hello The Heart of the Game. This is my new all-time favorite movie ever. And it's not just because it was filmed in Seattle. The documentary follows the Roosevelt Rough Riders, a AAA female high school basketball team, through several seasons of play. Roosevelt was in my conference in high school, which adds to the coolness of the movie for me, but that's hardly what makes it great.

The film starts out documenting what could be any old high school girls team, and it follows them as they become extraordinary under the guidance of award winning coach Bill Resler. Along the way you get a glimpse into the psyche of the athletes as well as the brilliance of the coach. Through one particular character the film gets into some interesting social and political issues that are specific to female athletics. In addition to great personal stories, the film is loaded with captivating game and practice sequences, buzzer beaters, and heated locker room pep talks. It's like Hoosiers, only better, because it's real people instead of actors, and the athletes are chicks.

The chick thing may not make it better for everyone, but it does for me. I absolutely love how far female athletics have come. If I were raised just a single generation ago, I never would have had the opportunity to play organized sports. Can you imagine? You either had to be a spectator, or be on the sideline where you jumped up and down in a mini skirt waving pom-poms around. Not to offend any avid cheerleaders (or wearers of mini-skirts for that matter), but for me there is no comparison between cheerleading and the physicality and team dynamics involved in competitive sports. If I grew up when my mom did, not only would I not have fit in, but I would have missed out on the one thing that I have gotten more joy and opportunity from than anything else -- I'm talking about volleyball of course. Also I would be depressed.

One more thing. I'm sure everyone remembers this ad:

Sure, like all ads, it's geared towards selling products, but the statements the girls make are based on actual data published by (among others): the National Cancer Institute, the National Institutes of Health and the Ms. Foundation. Not only are sports super fun, they're also good for you!

So the movie's cool, and the only thing that could make it cooler if it followed a women's volleyball team, but you should still check it out.

p.s. I hope I don't ruin it for people by hyping it up too much. You should remember that I'm a bit of a feminist/jock type person, so my opinion may be slanted.

Skinny Pants are Out?

2007-05-22T08:19:00.000-07:00

One thing I like about living in rural America is that no one seems to have any idea what is "in" and what is "out" when it comes to fashion. This allows me to wear pretty much whatever I want. This is good, because apparantly, after just one year of living in Wray, Co, I am already out of date. When Keith and I visited the big city last week, I was so excited to see "skinny jeans" on display that I had to try a pair on. They instantly brought me back to the mid '80s when my sister and I used to sew our jeans to a taper that fit our calves as tightly as possible while still allowing enough room to barely slip/tug/force them past our heel.

Then I read this. At this point I'm totally confused about what type of pants I am supposed to be wearing, but what I do know is that I am quite happy with my skinny jeans. While I also appreciate the baggy pants, I like the form fit of the skinnies. I also find it easier to wear flats with them because I don't have to find the perfect sized heel to wear with the long, baggy pants. In this manner, not only do I avoid the tripping, heel catching etc., but I will also avoid the following:

So no matter what the trends do, I plan to wear these skinny jeans as long as they have the tensile strength to form fit to my skinny ass.

Home Again

2007-05-20T15:26:00.001-07:00

Keith and I made it back to Wray yesterday. All in all it took us 12 hours to get here. That is one of the major downsides to living off the map. I have to say, though, that I am glad to be home.

The game at Fenway was great, but the true highlight of the trip for me was
definitely getting to catch up with some friends from medical school. Thanks Jonathon and Scott for the town tour, the yummy home cooked meal, and of course the rousing game of "Loaded Questions". We may have to purchase one of our own, as we have a pathetic supply of board games, and there is little else to do in Broken Bow, and, of course, it's the best game ever. True to our nerd selves, we also found the visit to the ether dome to be a delightful experience.

I've already published one pretentious post this month, so I will refrain from an elaborate discussion regarding the ethics of using someone else's handicap sticker, but I will say that if something makes you belly laugh it can't be too unethical (principal of amusement?).

Also thanks to Andy and Sarah for not only visiting with us, but for letting us hold their cute little baby. I especially appreciated that you didn't take her away from me the second she started crying. Babies are constantly crying when I try to hold them, and moms are constantly whisking them away from me thereby cutting into my scarce baby cuddling time.

We are very much looking forward to when each of you come visit us in Nebraska!

Fortunately for us, our house is up for demolition.

2007-05-15T19:08:00.000-07:00

Keith and I became new puppy parents this year. We are really good and loving them, but not so good at training them or at keeping them from slowly destroying our home. This turns out to be sort of okay, since the house is set for demolition in about two months. Unfortunately some of the items we would like to take with us are suffering as well.

So, yes Kat, lab puppy does = everything destroyed.

And who the hell chews on a random spot in the wall anyway?

Lord help them if they don't get this out of their system by the time we move into our new home.

No Itineraries

2007-05-14T20:19:00.000-07:00

I'm definately a fan of playing it by ear when it comes to vaca. So far it seems to be working out. In just over 24 hours we've already had a great time with friends over a superb homemade meal, biked through many of the Frederick Law Olmsted landscaped parks and gardens, seen much of the freedom trail, and taken in a great game between the Detriot Tigers and the Boston Red Socks at historic Fenway park.

Pretty gardens

Give me a fucking break people, there are like 12 empty cans just down the street.

History (you know, one if by land two if by horse...
or something like that

Holy crap, we didn't even realize Matsuzaka would be pitching (I promise that's him). He pitched a complete game in the 7-1 win.

Don't let 'em tell you it's hard to get tickets at the last minute.

Living Your Ideals

2007-05-13T20:36:00.000-07:00

I feel like I have a lot of ideals. I think this is a generally a good thing. The problem, though, is that all too frequently I find myself falling short of my ideals, and those very ideals end up crippling me with guilt. There are so many damn issues to worry about, how can one person make a difference, and should they even bother trying?

Here are some examples of things I wish I could change.

I value the environment, and I am constantly fretting over the massive amounts of waste I see going on around me every day. Like, why the hell does our neighborhood grocer insist on double bagging a single milk carton? And am I really the only one in the entire town who tries to bring my canvas bag with me when I shop? Does anyone but me care how much fossil fuel is wasted every year just se we can get kiwis from Chile in the winter time?

But despite my observations, am I the perfect eco-friendly consumer? Of course not. In the little town we live in there are no recycling facilities, so rather than continue to save up our recycling and load it into the car each month for our regular trip to the city, I now just toss everything into the garbage. It's just easier. Just this morning I drank from a styrofoam cup. Oh, the shame I feel even writing these words.

Here's another example: After listening to a story on This American Life, I think to myself "Are you kidding me? A kid can be brought to the U.S. from Mexico as a child, get her entire education here, even go to a University only to be told that she will never be able to go to realize her lifelong dream of going to medical school and practicing as an Obstetrician because she does not have a green card? (This same kid is working two jobs and commuting 2 hours each way in order to put herself through school.) How is that the land of opportunity?" The tears roll down my face, but what can I do?

I hate the inequality of social classes that exists in the U.S., but I have some Aveda hair products and top of the line road bike.

I am looking into getting my pilots license even though I hate the way we waste fossil fuels.

This just scratches the surface. I hear things in the news everyday that make me want to jump out of my chair and go knock on my senator's door to demand they help rectify injustices. I think to myself "What?! They are keeping all those people in Guantanamo just because they pissed someone off, and that someone decided to make a profit by turning them in? Not only is there no proof of wrong doing, but there aren't even any charges?. Our president is flat out lying to us about how all the prisoners there are Al Qaeda insurgents?! He's ignoring the Geneva Conventions AND Habeus Corpus?!! People know it's all lies and yet we are still keeping people there and and torturing them?!!!" Oh the rage, the disappointment, and ultimately the impotence that I feel.

Am I alone here?

Mahatma Gandhi said "You must be the change you want to see in the world"

I may be unique in my overly inflated sense of guilt and responsibility, but I don't think I'm alone in wanting to live in a way that affects social change positively. I still have no idea how to fix most of the world's problems, but I do feel like Gandhi's words are comforting and somewhat empowering.

I know what I'm about to type next will sound trivial in the face of all that's wrong with the world, but here's what I've got.

For the environment, I plan to can my own fruit and pasta sauces (actually my eco-conscious sis gave me this idea). She says it only takes her a day or two to can enough food for the entire year. Also, she can buy local produce because she just buys what is in season. Bingo. Just solved two major environmental problems with one fruit cellar.

For the wrongly imprisoned people? The struggling young students with no hope of ever realizing their dreams? The millions of gay citizens who self-righteous, religiously motivated persons continue to discriminate against for no particular reason other than they are made uncomfortable by the gay lifestyle? (I know, I hadn't even gotten around to introducing this idea in my earlier rantings, but I'm on a roll.) Well, frankly, I don't know. Even if I were willing to leave my career and dedicate myself fully to one of these causes, I wouldn't know where to start. The best I can do is embrace my local immigrant (not literally), frown when people utter homophobic comments, and, of course, stock up on produce when it's in season.

Going to Boston

2007-05-12T07:52:00.000-07:00

Keith and I are leaving for Boston tomorrow. We have exactly three friends there, and we are very much looking forward to seeing them.

Keith will like this aspect of the city. Or at least he would if it were up and running yet.

We're actually going for a medical conference, but we should have a few days to take in the sights.

Pics when we get back.

They took away my television

2007-05-11T16:33:00.000-07:00

I spent about 20 minutes yesterday watching the previews on the pay per view channel. Why would I do that you ask? Well, the satellite wasn't working for some reason, and I really felt like watching television. A bit later my husband came home and nonchalantly told me: "oh, I cancelled our satellite subscription today".

Panic stricken.

Speechless.

You see, even though I have a license to practice medicine, I spend three days a week alone at home, and all the company I have is the likes of David Bromfield and Angelo Surmelis from HGTV. They have become like family to me. My husband suggested I use my laptop to keep me company. Hence the blog. And this picture:

We need a lot of furniture for our new house, and I like this table. Wouldn't those high chairs squish your knees up against the bottom of the table though?

Actually, I already had a blog on my myspace page, but I decided I didn't like it - the myspace page that is. This happened when a psycho ex-boyfriend sent me a friend request out of the blue. His creepy little photo was up in the corner. When I say psycho ex-boyfriend I don't mean like he called me too many times at home after we broke up, I mean psycho like he has the letters S-H-A-L carved into his forearm (too much of a wuss to finish the whole name I guess). He also threatened to eat rat poison if I broke up with him (unfortunately he never did).

So anyway, this is my first post.