tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2964612659124201482024-02-20T01:50:18.356-08:00all squared uplittle snippets of my quilt making
and other threadsJessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comBlogger617125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-79513768296563404962021-09-08T13:55:00.003-07:002021-09-08T22:00:06.764-07:00I'm Now Wired for Sound!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3hxUCjZvMaeZRXG8ZAZxg7qaO0E7m89L_eawP_oYJYkzFrGPS1Tvk-spI_qCzjvDmfd8lyuGaRP7RrsyZ10XGyuwIRPnoXF2_nOM4kJ87uyo_ctaucPtCxRzMnqkQiRnm-BwUbso1090/s593/0-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="593" data-original-width="479" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm3hxUCjZvMaeZRXG8ZAZxg7qaO0E7m89L_eawP_oYJYkzFrGPS1Tvk-spI_qCzjvDmfd8lyuGaRP7RrsyZ10XGyuwIRPnoXF2_nOM4kJ87uyo_ctaucPtCxRzMnqkQiRnm-BwUbso1090/w258-h320/0-1.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; text-align: left;">Things they don’t tell you about your Cochlear Implant surgery</span></div><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">I thought I knew what I was up against. I thought I’d done my research. I’m not one to Google “Actual footage of Cochlear Implant surgery” but I looked at some nice neat graphics and medical drawings. My surgeon walked me through my CT scan and showed me where she would drill into the mastoid bone to get to my inner ear, that she would remove my Baha magnet first, drill a “well” for my new implant to sit nice and cozy on my skull – I was set to go.</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">But I didn’t really think about how my poor unsuspecting body would react to all those medical power tools. I had an inkling what I’d been through when my husband removed my oh so chic ear bandages the day after surgery – wow, blood! And all the prong marks on my ear and face reminded me how they got to where they needed to go. I won’t elaborate, let’s just leave it at there was some spreading involved - my ear was swelled up and sticking out like a well-beloved Disney elephant.</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Surprisingly the pain wasn’t too bad. I ended up taking only 4 prescription pain pills, the rest of the time just monster Motrins and regular Tylenol. For me, the main symptoms were vertigo, dizziness, and an overwhelming feeling of yuckiness. My whole head felt like the losing boxer in a four hour-long prize fight, even my right eye was thinking “what have you done to me, I’m not even on the bad side”. Putting in contact lenses felt like an invasion of my brain space. Brushing my teeth felt like I was brushing down my throat. Everything was out front and ready to be irritated with the slightest provocation. I even lost my sense of taste, or rather gained a most unappetizing metallic and numb sensation on my tongue on the surgery side. It still is bothering me, but once I figured out the worst offending foods (fruit and cold foods) and the best combatants of the metallic taste (super spicy foods like curry) it's been easier to deal with. This should go away within a few weeks or months. I certainly hope so, because I want fruit to taste good again. And water, it would nice if water tasted good again.</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">One symptom that threw us both for a loop was a brief period when I had hallucinations. I don’t know if it was from the pain meds or just the swelling. I looked down and saw our dog’s stuffed toy Purple Guy moving across the floor. “Ernst, Purple Guy must have a mouse or a bug in him because he’s moving across the floor.” My husband walked over, stared at me with giant eyes, and said maybe I’d better go lie down. He advised the same when I told him the plant on the kitchen table was rotating. And when I asked him if he had blood coming out of his eyes while we were eating dinner, well apparently that’s kind of a freaky thing for a man to hear his wife say. We won’t get into the voices I heard in my operated ear. Suffice it to say, that was all very creepy and scary and we were both glad that part of my healing journey only lasted half a day.</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;">I think the worst day was the Sunday after my Thursday surgery. A sweet friend drove two hours to bring me flowers, so I came out on the porch to chat with her. I was still in my pajamas at noon, which for me screams “I’m feeling horrid!’ My friend has profound hearing loss in both ears, so her empathy for my situation is dialed in. As I sat there looking like a wild mess, holding my spinning head, trying to hear her through the mask she so kindly wore to protect me,<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>I realized I was not exactly the poster child for making CI surgery look the least bit desirable. </p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">But after that day things started to get better. Much better. I wasn’t ready to dance a jig, but the realization that I would soon be able to hear that jig better gave me hope. I started back to sessions of my volunteer work on Zoom, I started walking around the pool, then the yard, and participating a bit more in life without holding my head as if it weighed more than my body. I couldn't lift anything over 10 pounds (not that I wanted to) or jar my head in any way (not that I wanted to) or engage in any house or yard work that involved bending down (not that I even came close to wanting to.) I got good at picking up things off the floor with my feet. The day I emptied the dishwasher I knew I was on my way to feeling well again. First load of clothes? Jessica's back!</p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Our bodies are amazing and want desperately to heal from the things we do to them, either intentionally or accidentally. We have trauma and we swell and bleed and bruise and the swelling hurts and makes us wonder who that is staring back from the bathroom mirror. But it’s all part of the process. Healing isn’t pretty but it happens. I am not and will never be the best person to ask how a surgery went. The operations themselves go great, I breeze through, my body loves anesthesia. But I don’t do well with incision pain and swelling, haven’t since I was a newborn who had kidney surgery. My mom said I would scream bloody murder when they changed my bandages. I don’t scream anymore, I just see Purple Guy moving across the floor.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><br /></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-family: Helvetica; font-size: 12px; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;">Anyway, it’s been three weeks tomorrow since I walked in that surgery center alone to get my Baha magnet explant and my Cochlear Implant. And tomorrow Ernst gets to come with me to my CI activation day. Almost all the pain is gone, I’m still dealing with some after effects of my ear drum being damaged during surgery, but for the most part I am healed. Tomorrow starts the really fun work, learning to retrain my brain to hear in a completely different way. My road to Single Sided Deafness has been a very long and twisting one, but I’m hoping this decision sets me on a new path. I’m a Cochlear Implant recipient! It's going to take a while for me to wrap my head around that.</p></div><div><br /><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBWlV9uH3LzT0Djwxt_9tcTlN849YcEoNcV9jfjs13vSk39O_829axffDBvYhVnlFzSWVWVaYoKFWdRjcA-O3jxsY-imk_xgLCrOGElcOiS-0oUTPSulU8jYoHmsLRpR_nU9B46QQz5Sx/s593/0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="593" data-original-width="479" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxBWlV9uH3LzT0Djwxt_9tcTlN849YcEoNcV9jfjs13vSk39O_829axffDBvYhVnlFzSWVWVaYoKFWdRjcA-O3jxsY-imk_xgLCrOGElcOiS-0oUTPSulU8jYoHmsLRpR_nU9B46QQz5Sx/w258-h320/0.jpg" width="258" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><p></p><p><br /></p><p><br /><br /></p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-60556702703188630422021-08-12T22:21:00.002-07:002021-08-13T17:31:27.920-07:00Say what?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghM2VklHDeIc-QUDdiQWgXhnwNZiutP6JzzG3TXJmr2yGsF4McUCSmVwL8K_14LXx3L-dwrdm0RqJvp0ULUKkXFHeLjvv7nuSFfOpdXpSa3XSvIg-57wcKaOvnVSsSs_8IS9-NMxEjieJV/s400/thumbnail-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="400" data-original-width="300" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghM2VklHDeIc-QUDdiQWgXhnwNZiutP6JzzG3TXJmr2yGsF4McUCSmVwL8K_14LXx3L-dwrdm0RqJvp0ULUKkXFHeLjvv7nuSFfOpdXpSa3XSvIg-57wcKaOvnVSsSs_8IS9-NMxEjieJV/s320/thumbnail-1.jpg" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I want to hear from both ears, it’s as simple as that. We have two ears for a reason, and I want both of mine to get sound.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">And that’s why next week I’m having an “explant” of my Baha 5 magnet and Cochlear Implant (CI) surgery. It’s been a long journey, here are the highlights.</span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">In my mid-twenties I began to have some strange sounds and fullness in my left ear, tinnitus or ringing and some odd swooshing sounds like a sprinkler. I was diagnosed with possible Meniere’s Disease.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Following these symptoms, the bouts of vertigo followed. It ran the gamut between feeling slightly sick to my stomach and having to hold my head really still<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>- to violent attacks that hit me like a bullet. I’ve been thrown to the ground from vertigo, literally. Once at work I was thrown off the toilet and on to the bathroom floor on all fours - a force to contend with that brought me to my knees in every way imaginable. The inner ear out of balance is not a friend to a normal life.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Many times, while lying on the floor, or in bed, or in the bathroom, or a combination of all three as the nausea hit, I would just wish I could lose my hearing in my left ear in exchange for a life without vertigo. Be careful what you wish for.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As the years went by and the vertigo got worse, my hearing tests showed damage. I was told I wouldn’t be a good candidate for a hearing aid, so I didn’t get one, and then inexplicably my hearing would improve for a time. But even that stopped happening and my hearing loss was affecting my life. My sweet Mom insisted I see her audiologist on a visit to Connecticut, she treated me to a hearing aid, and that was a life changer.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">It was the little noises I appreciated the most. My hair moving against my left ear. The equal sound of both my feet hitting the floor. Leaves rustling, all the birds! It all goes away so gradually and when the sounds come back suddenly every single one is a gift to be treasured.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> My brain felt balanced again, like my left side was firing on all points again just with the addition of hearing sound clearly once more in my left ear.</span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As predicted, even in my non-typical case of Meniere’s, my hearing continued to deteriorate. A stronger transmitter on my hearing aid helped for a time, but once those little hairs in our ears are damaged, even the strongest hearing aids available cause sound distortion and word recognition is the first to be affected. I got super good at the Single Sided Deafness Dance, which has one cleverly positioning oneself to understand dialog, especially in a crowded room.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I have really great hearing in my right ear, even for, ahem, my age. Why can’t I just hear from that ear? I do, and I do amazingly well, but like a person who loses an eye loses depth perception, a person with SSD loses the ability to know where sound is coming from. I can hear that you’re calling me, but I can’t hear where you are and I can’t understand all you’re saying. For a person who loves people and talking and hearing stories and joking and laughing and give-and-take and puns and the nuances of language, this disability cuts to the core of what makes me tick. Parties exhaust me, work situations are difficult and something as simple as trying to find out where my husband is in our big yard becomes a shouting match of “But <b>WHERE</b> IS <i>OVER HERE</i>??? Over <b><i>WHERE</i></b>??”</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">First to remedy this I tried a CROS system that sends sound from one hearing aid to a hearing aid on my good ear. UGH, that was horrible. So, in the Spring of 2017 I had a Baha 5 device implanted. Currently I have a screw in my head attached to a magnet under the skin and I wear a device that attaches to the magnet and it sends vibration through my skull to my good ear and I can hear from my left side. Pretty cool. Except for that “where” part of it all. I still can’t tell where sound is coming from and my word recognition stinks and for something that falls off when people hug me and causes pain on the side of my head…yeah, I haven’t exactly been the poster child for the Baha 5 Attract device.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My surgeon was aware of this situation and she contacted me last Fall about getting a Cochlear Implant. I wanted to wait until I was fully vaccinated to pursue it, and in March 2021 I had my first appointment with the audiologist. Lots of appointments and hoop-jumping-through followed. More hearing tests, a CT scan, a pneumonia vaccine, a vestibular vertigo test and even a Zoom meeting with a phycologist to make sure I was a good candidate. I passed all the tests I was supposed to pass and failed the ones I was supposed to fail, and apparently I am a great candidate for surgery. It’s next week.</span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My surgeon will remove my Baha magnet (the screw stays in my skull as a parting gift) and install the completely different and much more sophisticated CI hardware. I’ll still wear a device on the outside as before, but instead of hearing <i>from</i> the left, I will hear <i>on</i> the left, the CI sending information directly into my cochlea that will be picked up by my hearing nerve. The nerve in my dead ear will “hear” again. It won’t restore my hearing, but I will hear sounds from that side on that side while wearing the receiver. It may take months of training and lots of visits to the audiologist for mapping, but I’m a pretty determined person when it comes to hearing, so I think I’m up for it.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><p class="p2" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px; min-height: 14px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></p><p class="p1" style="color: #454545; font-stretch: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; line-height: normal; margin: 0px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">That’s my story of how I got from a strange sensation of fullness in my left ear with some odd sounds some 35 years ago, to being considered profoundly deaf in that ear and now a week away from getting a Cochlear Implant. We can’t pick what goes wrong with our bodies, and in the big picture of things I got off pretty good so far. Losing hearing in one ear, along with the vertigo episodes for those many years, has been incredibly challenging. I’ve always tried to face it with humor and brightness on the outside, but there have been so many dark times, I can “Why me?” with the best of them. But now it’s time to say “Why not me?” for a chance at hearing again, albeit in a very roundabout way. If this is successful, and if we ever get out of this pandemic, be prepared for me at parties and large gatherings – I’ll be the one with the Bionic Ear ready to talk your ear off.<span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span></span></p><br /></div>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-46200577400318471272021-03-22T14:01:00.002-07:002021-03-22T14:09:31.038-07:00A Real Shot in the ArmIt's not like I was unclear on the process of registering for a Covid-19 vaccine. I'd been to our county's site numerous times checking on the availability for the English learners we know. I knew it was a process, but I didn't know how time consuming or emotionally taxing it could be.<div><br /></div><div>When my tier (tears?) of availability came up I was then thrust from observer to participant, and it got real. My husband's school district (a different county) opened up appointments for him and he made his appointment. My eligibility for our county was up in the air. I spent a chunk of frustrating time bouncing around the various means of getting an appointment - the pharmacy and the grocery store options were booked solid, the medical clinics were a bit of a maze to navigate. Friends began telling me what they were able to do, but I always seemed to be one step behind.</div><div><br /></div><div>After one more morning of attempts, I said "Forget this, I'll get it when I get it" and I decided to put it out of my mind and concentrate on a morning of uninterrupted volunteer work. At noon I saw an email from my supervisor at my school district, with a link to make an appointment. I screamed with joy. Making that appointment, standing in front of my stove in the kitchen, my hands practically shaking as I scrolled through all the appointments that had already been taken, fearing I read the email too late, with my husband peering over my shoulder telling me to keep scrolling down. And then there they were, all the available time slots for a Saturday at one of my districts high schools. I picked a time, got the confirmation and took about 3 screenshots of it to be be sure. And then we danced with joy, we'd be vaccinated in the same week - Moderna for Ernst, Pfizer for me.</div><div><br /></div><div>Getting that first shot was a glorious day, both weather-wise and joy-producing. When I pulled up to the event I realized what a huge undertaking this was, they vaccinated 2100 people that day. The line was long, but moved fast. I forgot they would be taking temperatures when we walked in and I had a sudden horrible feeling that I'd get kicked out, but no fears, I always run low. I was in! We snaked around, six feet apart, and then before I knew it I was seated and the vaccinators were so sweet and I had the shot while I took a selfie. I didn't even feel it, those have to be the thinnest needles ever.</div><div><br /></div><div>We celebrated with champagne. It's not like anything I'd ever experienced, receiving a serum injected into my arm that has the ability to save me from a disease I'd never heard of 15 months earlier. I wasn't about to be reckless or maskless or foolish, but it felt like such a game changer. We did it, we did it, we got through it.</div><div><br /></div><div>The second dose was not nearly as exciting, but we celebrated nonetheless. It was Pi Day, so of course we celebrated with all things round - some vegan personal pizzas, a raw apple tart and a tofu chocolate pie. I figured if I'm going to feel sick as a dog the next day I'd better enjoy my vaccine day to the full. And so I went to bed that night and waited to wake up sick. But I didn't, feel sick that is, I did wake up. Nothing but the slightest soreness in my arm, less than the first dose caused. No day spent in pajamas watching Netflix, no chills, no fever, no aches. I felt a bit left out and wondered what was up with my immune system. Then we found out that 10% of people didn't get a reaction. Welcome to the 10% Jessica, put your clothes on and get on with your day, there is pie to eat! </div><div><br /></div><div>A few days later my husband got his second. He didn't get a fever or chills either, but was hit with a curtain of fatigue that he said was just like jetlag. A day of dragging and then off to bed early and he woke up almost 100%. So we are done and done and on Sunday I'll be finished and next Wednesday for Ernst - both fully vaccinated.
Then begins the slow transition back to what used to be normal life but that feels nothing like normal now. Having people over to the yard, grocery shopping in a real live store, picking out my own produce, Ernst back teaching in-person instruction, planning our first trip away on a (gasp) plane! Here we come Spring 2021, we are approaching you with baby steps. Very happy baby steps.
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padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyG47ZDiT9ZKy4YX80e7eoJwdgdOD_GIOpZoy7mE-nxQ9bThG-t9UZ78Z893OCKXdtzUZaQzBouMChmTEAsvQSIXqoOg9OMgTJTiMh0yxl6uh_J614gFm1AbLfJfEAsiY3HymFKZPoadih/s320/IMG_2892.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcPYPGmqJhIDBYBI6m5Ceexv81ZUdzQRD51ZWzf6HvJn6iuNKZ6ND840je93rOjMWBiFfzPfbMT9ZCZPJ9g8rBQXpTDhN5Bpdyg9zJlAwlItvkXKJxYywTLeIo5p-Rm6DZTjOWf5gzEeL/s640/IMG_2953.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0px; text-align: center;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="311" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJcPYPGmqJhIDBYBI6m5Ceexv81ZUdzQRD51ZWzf6HvJn6iuNKZ6ND840je93rOjMWBiFfzPfbMT9ZCZPJ9g8rBQXpTDhN5Bpdyg9zJlAwlItvkXKJxYywTLeIo5p-Rm6DZTjOWf5gzEeL/s320/IMG_2953.jpg" width="320" /></a></div></div>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-23832602143652826672020-12-30T15:31:00.005-08:002020-12-30T15:31:34.130-08:00Now Hear This!Some abbreviations and their meanings:
SSD - Single sided deafness
BAHA - Bone anchored hearing assistance
Baha Attract - A BAHA made by Cochlear America
CI - Cochlear Implant
CROS - A hearing system that send sound from one side to another in a person with SSD
What's the good news about losing your hearing in one ear?
You still have the hearing in the other one!
What's the bad news about losing your hearing in one ear?
You cannot tell where the sound you do hear is coming from!
Ears are amazing, if a bit odd looking. They stick out, they have lots of circular nooks and crannies, they are great for hanging glasses on and they have that perfect spot on the bottom that's just iching to dangle an earring from. And most importantly, ears don't just hear, they hear sounds directionally. Just like two eyes provide depth perception, two ears provide direction perception. The tiny little split second from when your left ear hears a sound compared to when your right ear hears it tells you where that sound is coming from. Ten o'clock, two o'clock, right straight ahead or from behind, this ability is not appreciated until you lose it. It's incredibly unnerving to hear a shout or a bang or a pop or someone calling your name over and over again, louder and louder, and have nota clue where it's coming from. It's amazing I haven't stepped in front of bus.
The two solutions for SSD up to this point have been a CROS system or a BAHA. I've tried bot. The CROS gave me terrible ringing, even in my good ear. The Baha Attract works amazingly well if very robotic and tinny, but that localization problem is annoying and emotionally draining. I have two ears, I want to hear from them both. Last year the FDA approved Cochlear Implants for SSD. I emailed my surgeon and expressed my interest. Kaiser contacted me. During a pandemic. To see if I want to have the Baha magnet removed and the CI surgery. Did I mention we're in a pandemic? So the answer for now is Yes, please, that would be totally awesome, but maybe wait until at least all the medical staff is vaccinated?
Until then I've started wearing a hearing aid along with my Baha. The hearing aid isn't enough to understand speech with, but I hear sounds from my left ear again and I can discern where they are coming from. I'ts joyous, plus will give my nerve a chance to wake up for when I'll need it again to use the CI. Because I have tiny ear canals and my hearing is so bad, the part of the hearing aid that goes in my ear feels like the size of a Lego, but it's worth the discomfort. What's been my favorite thing to hear? Birds and cruchy leaves. So if you see someone walking around Cottage Creek smiling while looking into the trees while kicking up dry leaves underfoot, that's me. Impatiently waiting for my possible CI surgery.
Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-15019061807256943912020-08-26T17:19:00.000-07:002020-08-26T17:46:05.960-07:00Pandemic, Painting, Protests and Pectin. <p>We learn a lot about ourselves when the world turns upside-down. I've learned that in order to keep my wits about me and not dive down into a pit of despair, I need to keep busy. Not just busy like puttering aimlessly, I mean like so busy I can't even think of picking up my phone to check the news because my hands are covered with either dirt, paint or kitchen muck. I started off our March lockdown with lots of house projects, ended up painting the interior of the house, worked a lot in the garden and finally almost permanently attached an apron to my body and processed loads and loads of fruit.</p><p>All our abundance was thanks to our fruit trees getting the memo that we cancelled all our vacations and trips this year and that we'd be home. All. The. Time. And then other people with fruit trees had the same thing happen and they had fruit trees gone bonkers too. Once people hear about the couple that welcomes all produce happily into their lives, you become like the fruit dump, but in the best way possible.</p><p>First it was our plum trees, We've lived here for 8 years now and never ever have we had so many plums - even the old half dead tree that looks like it needs to be put out of its misery went bananas with fruit. And like I said, we were here. All. Summer. Long. So instead of the squirrels and the birds and the dog getting fat on our plums, we picked it all before that could happen. And then came the huge box of yellow plums from the friend of a friend. And a huge box of pears from another friend. And then our peach tree got all jealous and even though it's still really small, it went to town with a huge crop. And not to be outdone our fig tree got into the act and produced a nice crop too. We can't forget the boat load of onions we received, onions to last a lifetime. I cooked with and chopped up onions in so many ways but still more onions! What to do, what to do?</p><p>It was time to get busy canning. As I mentioned, canning hands can't check the news so it was the perfect activity to get my mind off many things out of my control and take control over all this healthy organic produce.</p><p>All we needed were the canning supplies, especially lids. What?? The rest of the world was canning too and canning supplies became the new toilet paper? What do you MEAN all the stores were out of lids? How could there be no pectin? That's preposterous! I searched in my stash for any lids and rings and jars like a Depression-era housewife, determined to stock up the pantry for her Vitamin C starved family. I put out the call for any friends who had supplies, and then got on Craigslist. Getting on Craigslist during a pandemic to look for canning supplies was a surreal experience. "I'm not a prepper, but hey I got these peppers..." Bingo, we got some jars with 1976 Bicentennial designs on them, that had sat that long in someones's garage, and a friend snagged some supplies at Walmart and we were in business.</p><p>I got jamming making jellies and preserves from figs and plums and pears. I made peach just-about-everything, including my first attempts with peach chutney and peach salsa, even using up all the onions for crying out loud. I even got to use the peppers from the failed tomato garden, It was a wonderfully successful time in the kitchen and now we have our larder full. That's the first time I've ever typed the word larder and it feels really good. People ask me if I want to sell them and OH NO, that's way too much pressure. I really love to give them away to friends who visit, it brings me great joy. We have one more batch of figs to do and I can state that the Summer Canning Season of 2020 is sweet history.</p><p>Blogger had finally updated its features, and I admit I cannot figure out how to insert my typical comments under each photo. So feel free to make up some incredibly witty remarks for each of the following photos and attribute them to me. </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5NMBc4qNZqd06Yr0_jYMTxddByqGPMblIQw-IHS3CP_U0F9kXhbvbuv4DpEk4AmkqF3wOqYZg37ZCkNJZyQ2Uhi8gkWxW0YhrVe8sIVnpQhFJ56fTSBDTR3HXEidREBh98_ZhWR4My94/s640/IMG_7448.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhC5NMBc4qNZqd06Yr0_jYMTxddByqGPMblIQw-IHS3CP_U0F9kXhbvbuv4DpEk4AmkqF3wOqYZg37ZCkNJZyQ2Uhi8gkWxW0YhrVe8sIVnpQhFJ56fTSBDTR3HXEidREBh98_ZhWR4My94/s0/IMG_7448.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA5WfbcVNBq00w9fgwBWawl2jXtIFhsY9huK2bfiokeThs0oGlnknkDPLxGRBiOdn7iHYA3wQ6KjYi17NlKhSbx76r1rmA1YBRBFeIWw2KZdvjmv1b7py7asbP_rYHMSULxUhlSQ1g3Ksn/s640/IMG_7471.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-sQuqCVgAb1E6lhaqHHjJw7UME4SjB-oQqm0tu1x0eqEupaW3g5ZxDsRAVyK-9bVQsux1SsII4ATET8YqFlPvhcZbiz2G_vBHQ94FhcRiq9Ntj_Dqp6LrG7iEUJSIUXzugoMuIVGUjiq/s640/IMG_7506.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7-sQuqCVgAb1E6lhaqHHjJw7UME4SjB-oQqm0tu1x0eqEupaW3g5ZxDsRAVyK-9bVQsux1SsII4ATET8YqFlPvhcZbiz2G_vBHQ94FhcRiq9Ntj_Dqp6LrG7iEUJSIUXzugoMuIVGUjiq/s0/IMG_7506.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQ9WL8S-FQYYJFasgp2xrqaqhGn1OeD82T3aXBDusm4TcYPZuaur5IAifrIPQMa8vsZe647Mp8FwW2T0B0TYzyprinpxCkPfXIMD3Fx3z6oHvak1XXl7uehiMAUmIUt85gzyOxvbp3Jfj/s640/IMG_6698+%25281%2529.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgfQ9WL8S-FQYYJFasgp2xrqaqhGn1OeD82T3aXBDusm4TcYPZuaur5IAifrIPQMa8vsZe647Mp8FwW2T0B0TYzyprinpxCkPfXIMD3Fx3z6oHvak1XXl7uehiMAUmIUt85gzyOxvbp3Jfj/s0/IMG_6698+%25281%2529.jpg" /></a></div><br /><p><br /></p>Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-63244062896459226232020-05-28T15:28:00.005-07:002020-05-29T12:26:35.404-07:00The keys to our lockdown <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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You can learn a lot about people during a pandemic, but that would take a great amount of snooping and lots of judgement calls, so it's much easier to just look inward. What I've learned about myself after 10 weeks of lockdown, which now has lifted considerably, has surprised even myself. Here are some takeaways:<br />
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<strong>The state of our house</strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong>
It has been my assumption for many years that I prefer a neat and tidy house because I want it to look nice should someone stop by unexpectedly. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a clean freak and sometimes the layers of dust on the horizontal surfaces in our house have their own zip codes. I'm talking the general tidiness factor that allows a guest to walk in and be greeted with a sense that things are clean and put together and someone cares enough to vacuum and dust on a schedule, if not regularly.<br />
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Was I doing that for others? Nope, not at all, I've been doing it for myself all along! No one was stopping by, and if they were they were, it was just to drop things off on the porch and run back to their cars. Yet I still feel compelled to keep things neat and tidy. I'm the person I've been picking up for all this time. It was a revelation to me.<br />
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The same thing went for my appearance. While not a glamour queen or anything, I'd thought that when I get dressed in the morning, I'm mostly doing it for others, that I cared maybe a bit too much how others viewed me and what I wore. But I found out during lockdown, when the only ones to see me day after day were my loving and sort of colorblind husband and dog, that I dress for me. Each and everyday, even when there were no Zoom meetings to attend, I got dressed in something semi-normal, put makeup on and fixed my ever growing hair. I can't stay in jammies all day, even in a pandemic, I need a fixed waistband to get my day started.<br />
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<strong>How I get projects done</strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong>
The reason I'm not a morning person isn't because I wake up grouchy or in a bad mood. OK, well lately this pandemic has me waking up in a less than cheery state. But the reason I don't get much done in the morning is because I prefer open-ended time frames for anything more than loading the dishwasher or starting a load of laundry.<br />
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My job with the school district and my proctoring work is typically in the afternoons, and I didn't realize how much this was affecting my desire to tackle big and little projects around the house. My work isn't physically draining, but the timing really messes with my wanting to start something I won't have time to finish to the bitter (or sweet) end.<br />
<br />
Time wasn't much of a factor on lockdown. In fact "all the time in the world" was suddenly handed to us on a silver platter. From fixing a hole in the ceiling that's been there since we moved in, to painting the bathroom, the mailbox, the shutters and anything that wasn't moving, to cleaning out the garage shelves and hauling bricks in the yard - lots got done. Our yard is all ready for company, even if we aren't. Starting a Zoom English class for my Moldovan friends? That one has been a total kick. Time is a gift, and I was a very happy recipient.<br />
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<strong>I'm not a panic eater after all</strong><br />
Along with the whole toilet paper thing, pandemic snacking seemed to be a big topic of discussion. When the realities of the coronavirus first really hit, for once in my life eating did not become an avenue of distraction or comfort for me. In fact, I lost my appetite for most of the things I love, which was good because I was in no mood to brave the line at Trader Joe's for my "must haves" of peanut butter, chocolate covered anything, Norwegian Seed Crackers and avocados.<br />
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With nowhere to go and all those days of open-ended time ahead of me, I found I was enjoying cooking more than ever. We sat down to so many meals together, even breakfast on the porch as we watched the neighbors walk by. To my incredible surprise I put on a few live cooking shows for friends and I didn't burn anything. We ate like kings - whole-food plant-based kings.<br />
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<strong>I loved shutdown. There I said it.</strong><br />
<strong><br /></strong>
Trying to be a sympathetic friend, I listen and read as people have expressed how much they miss getting together with friends at restaurants and parties, or just grabbing a cup of coffee together. I mentally reach down inside to see if I still have a heart, because honestly I have been completely enjoying this time. If you could have the shut-down minus the death, sickness, fear, and economic devastation, I'd say "Stay Home Directive - How long can we keep this up?"<br />
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Our street was so quiet, we met neighbors we've never even seen before, and when they asked how we were, we knew they really wanted to know how we were. We sat on the porch more than we have in the seven years we've lived here. There was an unexpected calmness about life amidst the chaos, and part of me, well a huge part of me, doesn't want it to end. My friends' kids and my congregation and my hair salon, bring those back. Alright, maybe sidewalk salons and al fresco meetings. And travel in a floating bubble with no TSA lines. And teleporting to Chicago. All the other stuff can trickle back in as slowly as it wants, if at all.<br />
<br />
Some keys to my success, should I ever face something like this again:<br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaH45PuzhS-XplyOSKMnkB6Av_yctwdlhKoCS7I0sZrkJHAh1zMmDkirl4j7_9Vi4RZSM16tnUfQfv0MPgUsBlRvcoJMj1Q0Z7zk7IV-j5bWfj6SXZXJx5JEIL8Fbh_jyVtQb3ZoUCj0R/s1600/IMG_4935.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="635" data-original-width="640" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaaH45PuzhS-XplyOSKMnkB6Av_yctwdlhKoCS7I0sZrkJHAh1zMmDkirl4j7_9Vi4RZSM16tnUfQfv0MPgUsBlRvcoJMj1Q0Z7zk7IV-j5bWfj6SXZXJx5JEIL8Fbh_jyVtQb3ZoUCj0R/s200/IMG_4935.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 12.8px;">First, I tried not to have a cow about staying home.<br />
We had food, water, shelter, rice and beans.<br />
And a dog, who might have enjoyed it if we'd had a cow.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="453" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeNjsQ6UwSzGXPgDhSvyEDZCbsZA5JTzMQoE4CZetOPRPQpYjbdMNLxNHc9Mnq3-Bw6hPSW2FBLzlWFG7UZZw5GRBQKIEU1fHnc_waJHTxL1o54G2-Yb-Uqh8vbiXGKgaPSfrD1k-RbYe/s320/IMG_3750.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="226" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Putting first things first was the most important step.<br />
Not just an important step, but a historic one. </td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeNjsQ6UwSzGXPgDhSvyEDZCbsZA5JTzMQoE4CZetOPRPQpYjbdMNLxNHc9Mnq3-Bw6hPSW2FBLzlWFG7UZZw5GRBQKIEU1fHnc_waJHTxL1o54G2-Yb-Uqh8vbiXGKgaPSfrD1k-RbYe/s1600/IMG_3750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWeNjsQ6UwSzGXPgDhSvyEDZCbsZA5JTzMQoE4CZetOPRPQpYjbdMNLxNHc9Mnq3-Bw6hPSW2FBLzlWFG7UZZw5GRBQKIEU1fHnc_waJHTxL1o54G2-Yb-Uqh8vbiXGKgaPSfrD1k-RbYe/s1600/IMG_3750.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UOEqpGzTrYDbyNhInQpWQtsyR6xWW_HCSR1L6OsVEwxXIJUdla8XM1VsUEegekl3v6-i5rnCPAfNWTvhrqVz6wgcdwFBRixpVcv1Cm8NDm5P-eJfW_wuJgIWKJdXnBr6nmuS7iPMQ3M2/s1600/IMG_3809.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="481" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-UOEqpGzTrYDbyNhInQpWQtsyR6xWW_HCSR1L6OsVEwxXIJUdla8XM1VsUEegekl3v6-i5rnCPAfNWTvhrqVz6wgcdwFBRixpVcv1Cm8NDm5P-eJfW_wuJgIWKJdXnBr6nmuS7iPMQ3M2/s320/IMG_3809.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I had this positive guy with me.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaH0lwj-lAPy95Aj5M8bQtalxJOWi5zRTzphT76jzxsNoXCrzSATixRgudmaUmU587P9TqAr3CgRlBPzOMGdanVMoPusapKGuqT-L9qnO-d6f4A6JucM5XfG9AmYiJL1R2fknNxARSTqv/s1600/IMG_3894.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYaH0lwj-lAPy95Aj5M8bQtalxJOWi5zRTzphT76jzxsNoXCrzSATixRgudmaUmU587P9TqAr3CgRlBPzOMGdanVMoPusapKGuqT-L9qnO-d6f4A6JucM5XfG9AmYiJL1R2fknNxARSTqv/s320/IMG_3894.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And this positively adorbs pup, who got more walks than ever before.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGWQqEwMlCfR3J7a2Vfv9TtlY-WVLEwWt503Ai-jQWJfhMA9V2_FlABQdWgxymkWdqEIHQJWexW-zzcULV0cOob0VieYlIGWek0qE0yfJN4ayQohIxffN34_iZb-wOQnlWuYy8X3-fVfh/s1600/IMG_3976.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoGWQqEwMlCfR3J7a2Vfv9TtlY-WVLEwWt503Ai-jQWJfhMA9V2_FlABQdWgxymkWdqEIHQJWexW-zzcULV0cOob0VieYlIGWek0qE0yfJN4ayQohIxffN34_iZb-wOQnlWuYy8X3-fVfh/s320/IMG_3976.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We planted our pandemic garden.<br />
It's like a Victory Garden, with much less know-how than generation's past.<br />
Grow garden grow, it means less trips to the stores!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0CgH1cXNVXNMiaTB62uCgpkxnzq3yykqVrhg9zHdtFaiIH0vBbKB2YcvmH-LahZqCRoEPv8RBlitYHr9f3BEUaMk198eCHeTMqUgehOUmKIuzNYjpfhdgqbBQQA8WYjw5dWahXz7SnSX/s1600/IMG_4070.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx0CgH1cXNVXNMiaTB62uCgpkxnzq3yykqVrhg9zHdtFaiIH0vBbKB2YcvmH-LahZqCRoEPv8RBlitYHr9f3BEUaMk198eCHeTMqUgehOUmKIuzNYjpfhdgqbBQQA8WYjw5dWahXz7SnSX/s320/IMG_4070.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When we did venture out, we masked up.<br />
Or we painted, whichever you prefer. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfZ9FECKzGGIbm4FKOUIh0RR_6OXdWM1PdsvmQZS_UhyEGbKIrKJDRQE5l6HSFUNRdtp68-MwFTrXyoAyHmj7etMT4y5KrXoK4x4NUmvv67LzGmZU36WROG74ihuSj-ugOJg9auX3Wg_l/s1600/IMG_4094.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfZ9FECKzGGIbm4FKOUIh0RR_6OXdWM1PdsvmQZS_UhyEGbKIrKJDRQE5l6HSFUNRdtp68-MwFTrXyoAyHmj7etMT4y5KrXoK4x4NUmvv67LzGmZU36WROG74ihuSj-ugOJg9auX3Wg_l/s320/IMG_4094.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our front yard was a plethora of purple.<br />
White shutters look better with purple than the old brown ones.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCyOOIN84RXz9MANXmS2iAcLa-PKLUXfah734soSnvE4IyCFyTU65bBrxfw88zhFVEWMueMbQYDjkhGx0tEcc_y9xXaXh1ywkelb9919dIdD1kY1Hzpg6Tx8Q_bvlMymGuZmS_9ZZSS6Vw/s1600/IMG_4353.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1089" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCyOOIN84RXz9MANXmS2iAcLa-PKLUXfah734soSnvE4IyCFyTU65bBrxfw88zhFVEWMueMbQYDjkhGx0tEcc_y9xXaXh1ywkelb9919dIdD1kY1Hzpg6Tx8Q_bvlMymGuZmS_9ZZSS6Vw/s320/IMG_4353.jpg" width="217" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">If you want your hair to grow out, have them close all the hair salons.<br />
Works every time.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFMq-RmKTRSapMM6NNSKsDzngt5IElgJBltjqQZXC8jMlra5QZwVVyfG_-UwvNs5CEe0-QQCy5YJMpC0JmplJ4yuCAkpwJnE-wAST7hW_NnDoIlbUoRu8EuQgn7itfZ-CrkrAPY7plzVh/s1600/IMG_4667.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgFMq-RmKTRSapMM6NNSKsDzngt5IElgJBltjqQZXC8jMlra5QZwVVyfG_-UwvNs5CEe0-QQCy5YJMpC0JmplJ4yuCAkpwJnE-wAST7hW_NnDoIlbUoRu8EuQgn7itfZ-CrkrAPY7plzVh/s320/IMG_4667.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should there be food shortages, we've got the whole calories and scurvy thing covered.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-qTCNHLf4qcz3HxDSnIPPyHLBt_OkQpupVbK_jWY8M4MEHK8_GSb4xTO5TNl5rwu8pHInHIFT9nVzkCQA_5pRQzR9KefC-K4iknTs2lv_iapQ0w2oQh1W_EaxubXmv58FEH_R-A2XysC/s1600/IMG_4677.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="499" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhk-qTCNHLf4qcz3HxDSnIPPyHLBt_OkQpupVbK_jWY8M4MEHK8_GSb4xTO5TNl5rwu8pHInHIFT9nVzkCQA_5pRQzR9KefC-K4iknTs2lv_iapQ0w2oQh1W_EaxubXmv58FEH_R-A2XysC/s320/IMG_4677.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Green smoothies just about every morning.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWE5V6bKqgFDPdqtzeAHXZBZI7coZk66U9GDWbSMEMOEIzBlYhBQG8h2fb7ymY-G1wccCKorm6FUuaPy49l1jJ_rRwEbgXzqK1i3cyrES3AdTxogfG90AqpTXxiQ72xWT5sl4CJuEmCQZ2/s1600/IMG_4694.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="560" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWE5V6bKqgFDPdqtzeAHXZBZI7coZk66U9GDWbSMEMOEIzBlYhBQG8h2fb7ymY-G1wccCKorm6FUuaPy49l1jJ_rRwEbgXzqK1i3cyrES3AdTxogfG90AqpTXxiQ72xWT5sl4CJuEmCQZ2/s320/IMG_4694.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Happy meals are super good for you.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHcxWhU0jo06KuoWo3Z1JHjm1LQuNIyf3T35o_wD2nHQCXCv8H4sSnmuDteFnTh7rtrFbrEyZxOVAGhowjOvhtRYtr1a2PWIof5nrPnMWmVe1eWV3_JBiAcmYW9zKsdF1kdPKrN9M7Kpv/s1600/IMG_4721.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdHcxWhU0jo06KuoWo3Z1JHjm1LQuNIyf3T35o_wD2nHQCXCv8H4sSnmuDteFnTh7rtrFbrEyZxOVAGhowjOvhtRYtr1a2PWIof5nrPnMWmVe1eWV3_JBiAcmYW9zKsdF1kdPKrN9M7Kpv/s320/IMG_4721.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We rediscovered the joys of delivered produce.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvWNLk2MFZtufR8veu8OpVpIF2yr416N9ja67XTpFcVGJFmXtu-oseF-9L7EtKh0LRqPeVc-oGAX5Z8Z04GTu_Rd5D5HW6L8JwfX6ZDKNx3R9MWif-7g_5pB6a3ZoDR_Z6GAdOkJiK8lV/s1600/IMG_4858.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibvWNLk2MFZtufR8veu8OpVpIF2yr416N9ja67XTpFcVGJFmXtu-oseF-9L7EtKh0LRqPeVc-oGAX5Z8Z04GTu_Rd5D5HW6L8JwfX6ZDKNx3R9MWif-7g_5pB6a3ZoDR_Z6GAdOkJiK8lV/s320/IMG_4858.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Rest is key to staying balanced. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTF7cZDYMX_djZFc6pZMjHdEjVfaB0MNi5j_q1CtM9awlP1fBn3nFrV2OKFSrvpczikPaJop5rYZlVbRjsN6_EtkvpSHnvi-q0yr5ulJ47RNV2py5ja1oOiWHK0PY44Yb2jLG0IXdrbhZZ/s1600/IMG_4997.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgTF7cZDYMX_djZFc6pZMjHdEjVfaB0MNi5j_q1CtM9awlP1fBn3nFrV2OKFSrvpczikPaJop5rYZlVbRjsN6_EtkvpSHnvi-q0yr5ulJ47RNV2py5ja1oOiWHK0PY44Yb2jLG0IXdrbhZZ/s320/IMG_4997.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Veggie burgers to the rescue!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxaeAvr0HFBlk8GZ6BrRXcFPhGhEt6tkz18LUaggIrUqBz0qYEu1HKOUUbslQRdLdMSeoCSv33rz9qv38STWXhUjf0AN75zIdLpM5C0uQz-o0wen5cz7Hfcd1gWhoo1wpwLglaYBK9-wU/s1600/IMG_5029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjxaeAvr0HFBlk8GZ6BrRXcFPhGhEt6tkz18LUaggIrUqBz0qYEu1HKOUUbslQRdLdMSeoCSv33rz9qv38STWXhUjf0AN75zIdLpM5C0uQz-o0wen5cz7Hfcd1gWhoo1wpwLglaYBK9-wU/s320/IMG_5029.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We ate some most interesting and tasty meals.<br />
Exactly why do I run to the store so often?<br />
Because now I know so many errands are completely overrated.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoRYwmGWOCrL9aK4dgq8bMOe2_qwQrQgstScDdz4WQ0fkJfpt3ZwrMB1bWqh-IuQSgZz_Ty2Zp8Yyg62eFjjXZkDqTT_WRpPuRuYgoAeCbmwCd_HQm6BHQfXJQ6bLM8La6d9EEM0wZWKO/s1600/IMG_5045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFoRYwmGWOCrL9aK4dgq8bMOe2_qwQrQgstScDdz4WQ0fkJfpt3ZwrMB1bWqh-IuQSgZz_Ty2Zp8Yyg62eFjjXZkDqTT_WRpPuRuYgoAeCbmwCd_HQm6BHQfXJQ6bLM8La6d9EEM0wZWKO/s320/IMG_5045.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When I got super stressed about the news, I cried.<br />
Then I made masks, because it's hard to cry when you're sewing. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoT1Tf6HoH9Co3PHiUkPx_7lItB1zvi4cTD6gOGo4uyQTfB0kP59Ff9YIcW24DrAzsDn_oyanpLpydS5gy3CLid60BBnfNiGyEm82CplTOz-zIDNARKl-Mt6zN5g8iz4ZRvo9f8MdlMWBJ/s1600/IMG_5179.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoT1Tf6HoH9Co3PHiUkPx_7lItB1zvi4cTD6gOGo4uyQTfB0kP59Ff9YIcW24DrAzsDn_oyanpLpydS5gy3CLid60BBnfNiGyEm82CplTOz-zIDNARKl-Mt6zN5g8iz4ZRvo9f8MdlMWBJ/s320/IMG_5179.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Projects large and small became the focus of our attention.<br />
We tackled some major stuff, and minor things too, because<br />
it's better to view your home as your castle rather than a prison in lockdown.<br />
We spiffed up the castle, with more to come.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgLuSdG72GvhMyIbepZPyybHpU89FWXOdthRPVEU7nXIHXU6w7fL1OAZB9NnSclKJJbbRKHRUsiuvanzqx2DyeRoXxOtel8e2ieVYqPRzLZgA-a83PkkN_gb42LeYJjWv8RzeoR0J-n6G/s1600/IMG_5375.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsgLuSdG72GvhMyIbepZPyybHpU89FWXOdthRPVEU7nXIHXU6w7fL1OAZB9NnSclKJJbbRKHRUsiuvanzqx2DyeRoXxOtel8e2ieVYqPRzLZgA-a83PkkN_gb42LeYJjWv8RzeoR0J-n6G/s320/IMG_5375.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Finally, we spoiled this little Flower Pup rotten.<br />
All the dogs, and some of the people, wish Stay-at-Home would go on and on,<br />
but it can't and won't.<br />
But we can sure come out of it better people with a stronger sense of what really matters.<br />
Faith - Family - Friends - Furry Things</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-86930421745396749472020-04-21T12:44:00.001-07:002020-04-21T12:44:21.711-07:00Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili, an Accidental Delight<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Vkmk5o6vboMvuk_xPlV6EZprLGFV5Oj-IMJayE8udcCK8A_TimFRWJgaBp2HljLR7JK9uSHmgnOTSsaYy8tSofAxmuCZoy0gmylf6xENcEq8w_5YtdICxFbmm-LYjjhCzrc5ZeIyK2w/s1600/IMG_4255.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="350" data-original-width="640" height="175" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjf1Vkmk5o6vboMvuk_xPlV6EZprLGFV5Oj-IMJayE8udcCK8A_TimFRWJgaBp2HljLR7JK9uSHmgnOTSsaYy8tSofAxmuCZoy0gmylf6xENcEq8w_5YtdICxFbmm-LYjjhCzrc5ZeIyK2w/s320/IMG_4255.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
My husband's only complaint about my cooking is that I often accidentally come up with a hit, and I can't recreate it. A little of this, a little of that, some produce I threw in because it was on its way out, plus half a can of something I found in the fridge. It all becomes a yummy dinner that we'll never have again, because I didn't pay attention to what I was dumping in.<br />
<br />
Enter the coronavirus pandemic, where I've been doing either live cooking demos on Instagram or filming them to upload to IGTV. I first started doing it to stay connected with friends, but then realized I really enjoy it. They aren't professional by any means, I still have yet to upload the one where the bottle of catsup sprayed all over me.<br />
<br />
I videoed myself making some sweet potato black bean chili, explaining in no uncertain terms that this wasn't prize winning chili, just something healthy for the two of us. And what would you know, it turned out great. Really really tasty. So I watched again my little of this, little of that measurements to see what I could see. Here is my best attempt to document what went into this yummy and healthful vegan chili.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u>Sweet Potato Black Bean Chili</u></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><u><br /></u></span></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 onion, chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 or 3 carrots, chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 small or 1/2 large red bell pepper, chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 ribs celery, chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">6 small or 3 large sweet potatoes, peeled and chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 cans black beans, undrained (I used low sodium)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 can chopped or stewed tomatoes</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 large can black olives, chopped</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 bag frozen corn (or one can)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 small can tomato paste</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 cup canned pumpkin (optional)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 cans of water (using the black bean can to measure)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 teaspoon garlic powder</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 teaspoon chili flakes</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/2 teaspoon black pepper</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon cumin</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon chili powder</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1 teaspoon dried oregano</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">2 teaspoons all purpose seasoning</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">1/4 teaspoon liquid smoke flavoring (optional)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">salt to taste (optional)</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Put all ingredients in an Instant Pot or electric pressure cooker, stir together and cook on high pressure for 6 minutes. Let the pressure release naturally.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Or put all ingredients in a slow cooker and let simmer for 8-10 hours.</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Enjoy!</span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
That was it. Super easy - dump and go. The spices are most likely very flexible, this wasn't spicy at all, just rich and delicious. Jazz it up to make it hotter if you like, but I was letting the sweet potatoes shine. They did!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdH5H0BOVBhxiHEPJLp2yRAB8X2xjtzWqwWm-rsDVBCKe8Iyg8BXhj_F3pO12bSFefcTCZaFNARe27JCexZkXYbNMhzqSTONTdEqzAyXXCrdt2qFhiZ_rhrPEjJjmix5dC0_0J2BRcWRsk/s1600/IMG_4257.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdH5H0BOVBhxiHEPJLp2yRAB8X2xjtzWqwWm-rsDVBCKe8Iyg8BXhj_F3pO12bSFefcTCZaFNARe27JCexZkXYbNMhzqSTONTdEqzAyXXCrdt2qFhiZ_rhrPEjJjmix5dC0_0J2BRcWRsk/s320/IMG_4257.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Get out your big spoon!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PcideTno04nQRiWQSlw3T0M9MGP4Cr02A992XxoT77YAoYcernTp9JMBQxxsC4wqmBVM3YEVfTIXLoItauCn85Xzbpad6msCiRkuATK0SIuwOJ0bElzPHBgFB63tBxbeccxLi54FojYe/s1600/IMG_4259.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6PcideTno04nQRiWQSlw3T0M9MGP4Cr02A992XxoT77YAoYcernTp9JMBQxxsC4wqmBVM3YEVfTIXLoItauCn85Xzbpad6msCiRkuATK0SIuwOJ0bElzPHBgFB63tBxbeccxLi54FojYe/s320/IMG_4259.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Super tasty the next day, with a beer.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-39992936461029853542020-03-28T09:21:00.001-07:002020-03-28T19:18:23.207-07:00Waiting for the first shoe to drop<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It all developed so slowly. It's hard to put a day on when the real impact of the global pandemic hit me. This thing we all refuse to call COVID19 (4 syllables) and instead call the coronavirus (6 syllables) came like the slowest tsunami ever, and we haven't even seen its full crest.<br />
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Back at the end of January I got a call for a last minute trip to Chicago for work. I scrambled to get packed and ready, not too hard because for this job I've been there so many times I know what's expected. All black clothes for work, warm stuff for outside, but not too warm because I spend most of the time inside the vast McCormick Center which is connected by corridors to my hotel. Five nights of luxury broken up by brutally long working days and a couple chances to see my friend Roxy and visit the Romanian congregation in Skokie.<br />
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The day before my trip a young friend who was following the story emerging from Wuhan China asked me if I was afraid to fly, especially to Chicago, where there was a case of this new virus. No, not afraid to fly, not afraid of Chicago, just afraid I'd miss my 4:30 am wake-up call if I was sleeping "deaf-side up." We contemplated buying an Apple watch with a buzzer so I could rest easier. Ran out of time for that, instead I set my phone alarm for 4:30, 4:31, 4:32, 4:33 and so forth. I found out the hotel still does wake up calls too.<br />
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There were some really bad technical difficulties with the test which I can't go into. Suffice it to say we worked the longest day I've ever worked (5:30 am - 11:30 pm) with the most disappointing results. We were being careful with hygiene because it was flu season, but nothing special. Little did I know when I flew home, that was going to be my last flight for a long time. I sat by a young man coming back to his brother's funeral from suicide. A most draining and gut-wrenching conversation filled the majority of the trip home. I arrived back completely spent in every way.<br />
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The next Monday I had jury duty selection and was forced to sit by a young woman who was coughing and hacking and snorting and sniffling in my limited breathing space. I tried looking for another seat, but I couldn't and had to sit by the hacker. Sure enough, four days later on a conference with my husband in Santa Rosa, I got a doozy of a cold. Fever, sore throat, upper respiratory infection big time. I ended up with double pink eye and an ear ache, with feeling like I'd been run over by a semi. It took me very long to recover. In the midst of the fog of this virus, I could sense that this mystery virus in China wasn't just in China anymore. It was spreading. My calls in to my doctor for the pink eye and earache were met with many questions about where I had traveled and did I have a dry cough. The answers were Chicago, that blasted courthouse, Santa Rosa and bed, and not a dry cough, mine was a bit wet.<br />
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With each half week came more and more bad news, more and more people were getting "it" (one syllable) as we now all call COVID19. Photos arrived from our friend in Seattle who works at Costco of people racing down the aisle to hoard toilet paper. The news was filled with TP, sanitizer wipes, paper towels and death in rest homes. And we thought the craziness had peaked.<br />
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The rest of the dates are getting jumbled. We began to rethink the whole "kiss, hug, kiss again, shake every single hand of every single person" at our Romanian meetings, filled with the most kissy-huggy-shaky-handy group of friends you've ever experienced. I started washing my hands more, way more, especially since I had recently been so sick. Then I just started refusing to kiss, and introduced the fist bump and then the toe kick. Then we had our last physical meeting on March 7. We thought it would be for 2 weeks. It's now been 3 weeks and will most likely go on this way for months.<br />
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How are we keeping our unity? First we watched streamed talks and meetings from Romania. But then we got direction that we were still to meet as a congregation, but on Zoom. I had never heard of Zoom before. Now it's a regular part of my vocabulary. We have Zoom meetings with our congregation, and it's simply adorable to see these older immigrants taking to this great technology on their ipads and iphones. We are learning how to mute, stop video, raise our hands, upload a nice photo and we're memorizing everyone's pictures hanging above their sofas. But most of all we are staying united, encouraged, upbuilt and connected. Zoom is the best invention of our times. Let's all give a big sanitized gloved hand for Zoom.<br />
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About the time I was completely over my cold from February, and in the middle of making marmalade, my husband told me he had a sore throat, wasn't feeling well and was going out to the trailer to self-quarantine. My heart sunk, every muscle in my body began to tingle and I wanted to just curl up into a ball and cry. But I had marmalade bubbling in pots and I had to deal with it. By the time they were in their jars I had calmed down. My thinking process went from total dread to "This isn't a death sentence, this isn't Ebola, he will be OK, and worst case scenario I have stellar examples of friends who have faced the worst of the worst of losing a mate and they are still functioning as beautiful giving people who have true purpose in life". From now on, when I get some bad news, I'm going to make marmalade, because the process got me from an emotional fetal position to standing tall and positive by the time the lids make it on the jars.<br />
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During all of this, in addition to Ernst self-isolating in our trailer, we had no bathroom except for the one in the pool house and the one in the trailer. A leaky toilet had led to a stained floor which led to pulling it up to investigate which led to discovering mold which led to finding out it was really bad to tear up a bathroom during a pandemic. "Boo hoo, poor me, no inside toilet!" Again, an attitude adjustment was in order, as I walked out in the dark with my flashlight to use the loo. "Jessica, this is all some people have or know or experience their whole life. Buck up and deal with it." I should have made some more marmalade. Finally after 12 long days the dad of one of Ernst's students agreed to come and put in our new floor. Yippee for floor guys who also set toilets! We were flushing again by the time Ernst was better.<br />
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In amongst the growing tragedy this epidemic (now pandemic) has wrought, life goes on. Never did I think San Francisco would order a lockdown of its citizens. "Those poor people!" I thought. Then a few days later my county, Sacramento, got a similar directive. It seemed so drastic, so scary, so unbelievable.<br />
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Then we just got used to staying at home. We had enough food, we never hoarded, we just prepared. My motto is "We aren't preppers, we are preparers." We basically lived on beans and rice before this started, the only hard part is getting the amounts of fresh produce we consume. We signed up for a farm box delivery, can't wait to see what it contains.<br />
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Our days consist of eating real meals together at our table, spending lots of time with our dog, Zooming with our congregation, getting more stuff done around the house than I ever thought possible and trying not to look at the news while still staying informed. At this writing, we don't know anyone personally who has it, and I hope that stays the case until the experts nail down the best "drug cocktail" to hit this with.<br />
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We are eating extremely healthy, our goal is to keep our inflammation down and our blood flowing freely through every artery, vein and the tiniest of capillaries in our bodies. I'm not going to binge eat junk food, even vegan junk food, right before what might be my body's most important fight ever, surviving COVID19. We continue to eat a low added fats, whole-food plant-based diet heavy on the greens and vegetables. Since I'm only working the morning shift on weekends at my school district job I have so much time to mindfully plan meals around the food we have. I'm quickly learning how to enhance frozen vegetables to make our fresh last longer.<br />
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Our biggest question now is did Ernst get a very mild version of the virus? He said the back of his throat was a color he had never seen it, it was purple. And his tonsils looked very odd too, with ominous streaks of veins coming off them. Of course we can't know, they aren't going to waste a precious test on someone who only had mild symptoms. It just would ease my mine to know this guy who has survived so many health scares got through this one with just a week of self-imposed isolation.<br />
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Without that knowledge, we are just staying home as much as humanly possible, staying connected with our friends and while taking precautions, knowing the picture is much bigger than our little home, our little home with the big backyard and the modest supply of toilet paper. So if you run out of legumes, we can share. But don't come knocking at our door for TP, all we'll hand you is package of frozen collard greens.<br />
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Until next time...Stay safe, Stay smart and Stay HOME.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZTaxJqTLORowiGWYT4qgJ4Yj6p3P_Xby2ANRPETy4maKFB7GDLR3utGbSbUs_mtMTsVf-PyVxthVmDy_VuhbSSWmz7emBW7ThJQVZ-PHGeHHNupxq5HOPm8cU0wI5b0Ez0o0HJzkCzY7/s1600/IMG_3302.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxZTaxJqTLORowiGWYT4qgJ4Yj6p3P_Xby2ANRPETy4maKFB7GDLR3utGbSbUs_mtMTsVf-PyVxthVmDy_VuhbSSWmz7emBW7ThJQVZ-PHGeHHNupxq5HOPm8cU0wI5b0Ez0o0HJzkCzY7/s320/IMG_3302.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay connected</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GH7sPeMVM9-kmNDqx3WMhz1hzDor0EqI_ZlCpMMAH-ShB8kF-Phu8nRImRNNkOuSp0kWoJiLbt9atKwPpdvSL-Ud1CrOiJBWJylgojmYmQyfVL2gOzLXjwHKmEqpvpNsIqK3_7O87bdS/s1600/IMG_3323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6GH7sPeMVM9-kmNDqx3WMhz1hzDor0EqI_ZlCpMMAH-ShB8kF-Phu8nRImRNNkOuSp0kWoJiLbt9atKwPpdvSL-Ud1CrOiJBWJylgojmYmQyfVL2gOzLXjwHKmEqpvpNsIqK3_7O87bdS/s320/IMG_3323.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay strong</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGqpUQ6ux9its0stw_9NZloScJmM0fvPIc2HElQvct3esU4a4VTwzB4VZDGari_GnJvvdW-O7Staao9pTnAzeYohcuxic3PvtXTLSicrqwwkqoWbMPW91obwNmbQguc5O1DpdEduK4IZy/s1600/IMG_3325.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTGqpUQ6ux9its0stw_9NZloScJmM0fvPIc2HElQvct3esU4a4VTwzB4VZDGari_GnJvvdW-O7Staao9pTnAzeYohcuxic3PvtXTLSicrqwwkqoWbMPW91obwNmbQguc5O1DpdEduK4IZy/s320/IMG_3325.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay kind</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZlgW68iDW-PX58M7l_NPu6i4VB8u1Vo-3G_At6s_NyIYPr8yFqFZxq9VdUWD_wmm8hwMQg1t9KoBAYR4FfdwbANyhnloj0jJgDMCPJRkBCL5bo76ywKvUuSLk_rYl7255uo1ivqPdqP9/s1600/IMG_3335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzZlgW68iDW-PX58M7l_NPu6i4VB8u1Vo-3G_At6s_NyIYPr8yFqFZxq9VdUWD_wmm8hwMQg1t9KoBAYR4FfdwbANyhnloj0jJgDMCPJRkBCL5bo76ywKvUuSLk_rYl7255uo1ivqPdqP9/s320/IMG_3335.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay clean</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsBQ5jgEOvC5CWmUMwWzfN6-Gw5jNYn2CnGfVz_WSkPWLIm2mJDZHJfO7iCDhRJD5kkAdobapFF2ZHQIqCiPXIyAj6dkakSvYO3HiliPupEN7gplvM3VZW3fUGhec0ICkHIssiE7vMceu/s1600/IMG_3337.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFsBQ5jgEOvC5CWmUMwWzfN6-Gw5jNYn2CnGfVz_WSkPWLIm2mJDZHJfO7iCDhRJD5kkAdobapFF2ZHQIqCiPXIyAj6dkakSvYO3HiliPupEN7gplvM3VZW3fUGhec0ICkHIssiE7vMceu/s320/IMG_3337.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay healthy</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dZ0tiEY-ejD3cKQ1ccefLBDhK7ey6YOQgtpFHnVlgSnaXQox2NGmJA36ZlJrVlxvHE8dn3qAcKoDpsxBBk4M9CWQccV9CEDud8JVs1SGnnSR6fEGii33WO-6EpkXqDKAgUXqcIkXz8fB/s1600/IMG_3349.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4dZ0tiEY-ejD3cKQ1ccefLBDhK7ey6YOQgtpFHnVlgSnaXQox2NGmJA36ZlJrVlxvHE8dn3qAcKoDpsxBBk4M9CWQccV9CEDud8JVs1SGnnSR6fEGii33WO-6EpkXqDKAgUXqcIkXz8fB/s320/IMG_3349.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay protected (from paint)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wnFkqM3WXgYcTv_4b00AdeAgLPP3NDXaICUTDJ2z253jDr8pwQP770UwreBMWpoyn4qdYI4oRof8nirXF0dpwj4eU0OgLi7UE2aQETden3YABhvCAiIXvF2edf4_28IpnbpTIW1yTQDP/s1600/IMG_3352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5wnFkqM3WXgYcTv_4b00AdeAgLPP3NDXaICUTDJ2z253jDr8pwQP770UwreBMWpoyn4qdYI4oRof8nirXF0dpwj4eU0OgLi7UE2aQETden3YABhvCAiIXvF2edf4_28IpnbpTIW1yTQDP/s320/IMG_3352.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay bright</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v9vSSb-2DBpLnykI5-BGmXYrLwKRaa9mfd6q0M8aEH022FyDSUynlznZQHeX1XRMQ83ylJ5grHtBdkC-340_94sTTA78Iytk1RSt_IuucJ-8QjzQWVX3tfiLSZRhve6dEYI5HBMPaMb5/s1600/IMG_3356.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0v9vSSb-2DBpLnykI5-BGmXYrLwKRaa9mfd6q0M8aEH022FyDSUynlznZQHeX1XRMQ83ylJ5grHtBdkC-340_94sTTA78Iytk1RSt_IuucJ-8QjzQWVX3tfiLSZRhve6dEYI5HBMPaMb5/s320/IMG_3356.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay sane (dryer balls in dog food?)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8fZNXuhX19TVs4zkBcTaRqq4z0uG6VFiRrJGNuNQMk-wUpeQcNzY2dblwZ_XSXoAPxJwjgbaQoNIq9jhhT57SR4beRoe5jH7icmyaIQdd5G26BWiQHLZwx-OlrvklotkdI8NBhElg4IB/s1600/IMG_3358.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="640" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEic8fZNXuhX19TVs4zkBcTaRqq4z0uG6VFiRrJGNuNQMk-wUpeQcNzY2dblwZ_XSXoAPxJwjgbaQoNIq9jhhT57SR4beRoe5jH7icmyaIQdd5G26BWiQHLZwx-OlrvklotkdI8NBhElg4IB/s320/IMG_3358.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay determined to eat the food you already bought</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgHBwOzxtrWL1K1RaSbn6R_Ka0Z30RkhEFNQNCYIwcygWTwmPFprK25pyeouXal9vM9Qz8Yof8FKMAeA6RXk-R3y16kohK9fu1mWfoM3NDGGF4gzfMf-8cAKj-Mh4pjxG7_NiuAopL5oI/s1600/IMG_3394.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiIgHBwOzxtrWL1K1RaSbn6R_Ka0Z30RkhEFNQNCYIwcygWTwmPFprK25pyeouXal9vM9Qz8Yof8FKMAeA6RXk-R3y16kohK9fu1mWfoM3NDGGF4gzfMf-8cAKj-Mh4pjxG7_NiuAopL5oI/s320/IMG_3394.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay realistic</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay spicy</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay masked when necessary</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay exercised</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay busy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcs3JHhANOqsuake3sPIrgzOzJfYX1o2ndZ2RKqF68VwAeJEp0kI6Gv7Kwtbr86Q-DEwrJxPr2AsHF2KIXZAGpg6S7tnKbzOyeNZWQgeeo0dI5wSTyukgc4Bab4gdoYdCjwQ5TFhOT9kzB/s1600/IMG_3280.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="359" data-original-width="640" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcs3JHhANOqsuake3sPIrgzOzJfYX1o2ndZ2RKqF68VwAeJEp0kI6Gv7Kwtbr86Q-DEwrJxPr2AsHF2KIXZAGpg6S7tnKbzOyeNZWQgeeo0dI5wSTyukgc4Bab4gdoYdCjwQ5TFhOT9kzB/s320/IMG_3280.PNG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay hopeful we will soon be back with our friends</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stay home!</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-81543369283550096792020-03-01T19:26:00.000-08:002020-03-01T19:26:27.305-08:00Marching Onward!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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February 2020 will go down in my history as a very, very bad month. I would say I want a do-over, but that sounds too painful, so I'm moving onward and upward. March 1st never sounded so good.<br />
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February started with me still reeling from the end of January, which had me going on a very last minute work trip to Chicago. I had two days to prepare, but I've been there many times before so that part wasn't daunting. The daunting part was that usually I travel there with either my husband or with a set of close friends who also work the same exam as I do. This time I was on my own. Staying at a fancy pants hotel all by yourself is a bit pathetic.<br />
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The work situation ended up being horridly disaster-ridden. I can't even divulge what happened, just a technology fail of epic proportions. The only good thing about the trip was seeing my friends in the Romanian congregation in Skokie. There's never a lack of new and fun places to visit in Chicago, and my friends were kind enough to come pick me up at my lonely hotel and drive me around town to explore all the vegan options, which seem endless.<br />
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That trip took a lot out of me, so I started February off dragging. A few days in I had to drag myself to jury duty where I was forced to sit next to an obviously ill woman who was hacking and coughing the whole time. As interesting as the jury selection process was, and as funny as the judge was, my overwhelming memory of the experience was thinking "She'd better not get me sick, she'd better not get me sick." Sure enough, a few days later, while at a conference in Santa Rosa with my husband, I got sick.<br />
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For the next two and a half weeks I was a walking medical dictionary for every possible symptom of a head cold. Fever, headache, double viral pink eye, earache, sore throat, coughing - the list went on and on. About this time the whole Coronavirus thing was picking up speed, and my call in to my doctor about the pink eye was met with "Have you been to any affected areas lately?" Chicago, a jury selection room in Sacramento and Santa Rosa, that was it. It was a doozy of a cold, but I could happily conclude it was of the most common variety. Hot tea, lemon, honey, some Jagermeister and Netflix got me through.<br />
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So what else happened in this most dreadful month? Oh, just a trip to the ER for my husband, who passed out after a bout of possible Norovirus. Yep, while I was still so sick, my husband gave me the scare of a lifetime (which can be added to all the other scares of a lifetime he's given me) and had me on the phone with 911 one morning as his BP dropped to a frightening level. The dispatcher asked me how old he was. I'm sure she could have used a ballpark number, but I couldn't remember exactly and when I asked him. that's the point where he completely blacked out. I was screaming "How OLD are you?" so loud, I cringe in embarrassment still. That dispatcher must have thought we needed some serious help, because very soon our living room was filled with paramedics. By this time he woke up, we both knew how old he was and the rest of the morning was spent in the ER finding out he was and is in great shape.<br />
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So what else happened? Somewhere in there I gave a talk in Romanian, I didn't cough once but definitely not my best effort. On the plumbing front, our toilet is leaking, which will most likely need a new bathroom floor. The backyard spigot was jealous of all the attention and leaked even more than the toilet. We started a carport/solar panel structure that had Ernst and I completely disagreeing on HOW HIGH we were going to make it (I wanted sensible, he wanted close to the moon. I missed a bunch of work because of being sick and then ended the month proctoring an eventful California Bar Exam. So much drama, and that's not including the total weirdness of people taking the bar exam in surgical masks! Is it proper etiquette to ask "Hey, is that mask for your protection or mine?"<br />
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Those were the highlights of February 2020. The weather was glorious, as it often is when one is sick, but glorious in a way that screams "we need rain, please skies, drop some rain because I don't want to water the yard with double pink eye." We got a drizzle the evening of February 29th, which was hopefully a glimpse of a wetter March? We are only one day into this clean new month, and I'm liking it already. A friend asked me to sew up a little project for her niece, and it was the most productive thing I've done in weeks and weeks. I'm getting jazzed about when the real spring hits, excited about some upcoming trips we have planned (Chicago's in there again) and just getting back to feeling good again. March, let's do this!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxueLF2Xi5WVBbWaiJgTS17MfSiQhnleZcbqxQsPcHcL4eQmmHF281DjrP9Xm2gbSyzV78rI5gNW-qIalLLjRlC0UgbrKj6gAccU2jC8acblXXuP-tb1YjvbrN8WxeHhZf0b177TNwwfm/s1600/IMG_2768.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitxueLF2Xi5WVBbWaiJgTS17MfSiQhnleZcbqxQsPcHcL4eQmmHF281DjrP9Xm2gbSyzV78rI5gNW-qIalLLjRlC0UgbrKj6gAccU2jC8acblXXuP-tb1YjvbrN8WxeHhZf0b177TNwwfm/s320/IMG_2768.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A rice sock holder and two Bag Buddies.<br />Yes, I did something besides cough and hack!</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-34627239135808448322019-12-30T11:26:00.000-08:002019-12-30T11:28:52.705-08:00The Winter of My Discombobulation<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Do you remember the Mary Tyler Moore Show? It's an oldie, it aired back in the 70's. Ms. Moore played career woman Mary Richards, who was super stylish, always pulled together, had an awesome apartment and wardrobe. Her life wasn't perfect, but her outfits and hair certainly were.<br />
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Yes, always so polished, except for that one episode when Mary was up for an award. She had a nasty head cold, stuffy red nose and all, she'd had a disaster with her typically perfect hair, hurt her ankle and at the last minute a wardrobe malfunction forced her to borrow a dress from her funky-hip neighbor Rhoda. As Mary limped up to the podium to receive her award, the first thing she said was "I usually look so much better than this!"<br />
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I'm no Mary, either Tyler Moore or Richards, but I'm having that moment played over and over lately. I want to wear a sign that says "I usually look better than this."<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsG666PCPo6z-kubo-jYoaQ2PuFHMqxZfHe7x7Xrm0IOAtTpT9nth29VMw1BtrXImQ7Qvqp_n6Ns0IsI4PO5ZYkIwPFDWjA4SfkDmTa4WQ-rob0zqyNyldpYN_0IHQwMkV1U8nF7QDDrAE/s1600/22222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="391" data-original-width="403" height="310" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsG666PCPo6z-kubo-jYoaQ2PuFHMqxZfHe7x7Xrm0IOAtTpT9nth29VMw1BtrXImQ7Qvqp_n6Ns0IsI4PO5ZYkIwPFDWjA4SfkDmTa4WQ-rob0zqyNyldpYN_0IHQwMkV1U8nF7QDDrAE/s320/22222.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MY COLORING</td></tr>
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2019 was my <a href="https://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2019/03/grey-matters.html">Year of Going Silver</a>. While I thought there'd be more of it (grey) and it would be hard to get used to, letting go of the dye was one of the best decisions I've ever made, looks-wise. I'm so thrilled I got through it without either buying a wig, bailing and going back to the boxed color or pulling my hair out, strand by strand. It turned out so cool, really cool. And therein lies the only problem with my decision. It's thrown this former warm-toned Autumn into a multi-seasonal tizzy! <br />
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None of my tried-and-true colors look good on me anymore. Orange is a lemon, lime green is queasy and brown is downright poopy. My face looks pink and suddenly looks great with silver jewelry, while the rest of me is still rocking gold rings. How can the simple act of finding something to pull over one's head and not look like something the cat dragged in be so hard? The numerous trips to the thrift store - the numerous sweaters I've purchased for $5 trying to find any color that works - the donation pile in the garage stacked up with $5 sweaters to redonate - it's a circle of futility that is only benefiting charities at this point. <br />
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I believe I've stumbled onto the answer, though. Picking the brains of my friends Mr. Google and Sara from New York, my dilemma may be nearing its badly colored end. It appears I'm a Soft Summer who has neutral coloring, can wear both gold and silver, but must must must wear muted colors near my face. Muted, Jess. No vibrant oranges, no tomato reds, and slap yourself if you wear a heavy brown near your hair that's no longer brown. "Suited for Muted" is the new catch phrase for 2020. Goodwill pile in the garage, prepare for a wardrobe dump of Autumn colors.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W3ihM0itSLS2s5mqQYdRdq-RbdsxL5d-v9cQ8VNHIZwMmyPnV1k6tYbA4DewC8RT6X9Rpml3r66kmfDNlEXVWwnnJoOeA7wOwWf8r729glyoFpTcN5zhWHfkizTSAcY57LHonB9lDe77/s1600/0%255B1%255D.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="330" data-original-width="291" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W3ihM0itSLS2s5mqQYdRdq-RbdsxL5d-v9cQ8VNHIZwMmyPnV1k6tYbA4DewC8RT6X9Rpml3r66kmfDNlEXVWwnnJoOeA7wOwWf8r729glyoFpTcN5zhWHfkizTSAcY57LHonB9lDe77/s320/0%255B1%255D.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MY SMILE</td></tr>
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Because of some shifting molars that were causing some gum issues, I opted to get Invisalign trays this October. The thing they don't tell you about Invisalign is that you won't just be wearing clear liners. They will also be gluing "attachments" to your teeth to get things to move more easily. What do the attachments look like? A bit like tiny pieces of broken Tic Tacs. But on my eye teeth, more like the entire Tic Tac has been affixed. My eye teeth appear pregnant and ready to give birth any day. My lips catch on these attachments while the liners are off. When they are in my mouth? Then my lips look puffy and awkward, a bit like Meg Ryan after her ill-advised lip job, but without Ms. Ryan's adorable hair, figure and obvious knowledge of the perfect colors to wear. Soon I'll be done with this treatment and the ability to smile like a normal person will return, maybe around the same time I learn what "muted" means.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjbpdGCZl6aC9RIiuxgjZ6Q8x9GqRJTGVkP74kZ4Tz_Utid8PiwmoRl-aJw8cIXnj9WYfGzwbJfNmmDZx3mUXmW5ShiLpHQCNKclcIpwB0Bi99_ORxvxeVeJ1r-LxKdSIG-Db0umKHiHx/s1600/11111.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="433" data-original-width="411" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCjbpdGCZl6aC9RIiuxgjZ6Q8x9GqRJTGVkP74kZ4Tz_Utid8PiwmoRl-aJw8cIXnj9WYfGzwbJfNmmDZx3mUXmW5ShiLpHQCNKclcIpwB0Bi99_ORxvxeVeJ1r-LxKdSIG-Db0umKHiHx/s320/11111.jpg" width="303" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MY SKIN</td></tr>
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Winter is hard on skin. The air inside is dry, and lots of ooey gooey moisturizer is necessary. It was probably not the best season to start a strong exfoliating process. One minute my skin is fine, the next minute it looks like a snake when it slithers out of its skin. Or rather, it looks like what the snake left behind. Not pretty. And on top of that, what else happened to this 57 year-old, recently grey-revealed woman wearing the wrong colors, the one with the awkward smile? Pimples. Yep, I have been getting break outs. Go. Figure.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOv7HguBgy4sVd7yswUyLiTGswH58t18VnLXcQV0wHmbd5_36syOGOhi2-g5MRiBIqbQhnLkOqzWh7Wgx2O7aUg_JVB4LGspK7cXPlrvR656_9cYs2sJD9FxBgJzI-_mAkgr_vxsMHh5ie/s1600/555555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="368" data-original-width="425" height="276" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOv7HguBgy4sVd7yswUyLiTGswH58t18VnLXcQV0wHmbd5_36syOGOhi2-g5MRiBIqbQhnLkOqzWh7Wgx2O7aUg_JVB4LGspK7cXPlrvR656_9cYs2sJD9FxBgJzI-_mAkgr_vxsMHh5ie/s320/555555.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">MY HAIR CUT</td></tr>
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Wait, you say, "She's happy with her hair, right? She has to be happy about <em>something!" </em>Yes, I'm so very happy about my hair color and that I don't have to think about it any more. I really love the color. I even made my "Memoji" grey-haired. But see that hair style? That is what I was warned about, the ever-so-joyful time spent trying to grow out a pixie cut. I heard it was hard. I heard it was awkward. I heard you either had to get it cut often or just often be annoyed with it. Maybe if I wasn't spending so much money at the thrift store buying wrong colored sweaters, I could be getting it cut more frequently. But just like I had to be patient and let my roots reveal themselves...ever...so...slowly...this funky style will grow out soon. I just have to get thru Winter and wait for Spring and my dry skin to Fall off and soon I'll find my Summer self. Muted, of course.</div>
Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-15394438167911928842019-11-30T13:11:00.006-08:002019-11-30T13:11:50.898-08:00No Waste November 2019? Sadly, no. <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Last year, November 2018, my husband and I (mostly me) decided to take on <a href="https://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2018/12/no-waste-november-lets-talk-trash.html">No Waste November.</a> The goal was to not buy, and therefore not discard, any unrecyclable packaging. It was a challenge, but with a lot of thought, ingenuity and reusable mesh produce bags, we did it. It meant giving up many beloved products from my "can shop there without a brain" favorite store, <a href="https://locations.traderjoes.com/ca/sacramento/70/">Trader Joe's</a>. While TJ's has lots of unpackaged produce, their pre-washed items in plastic bags are so easy to use, it's hard to resist them.<br />
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So for last year's challenge, I bought lots of loose produce from the bigger stores I normally avoid when I'm busy, namely <a href="https://www.raleys.com/">Raley's</a>, <a href="https://www.wincofoods.com/">WinCo Foods</a> and <a href="https://www.sprouts.com/">Sprouts Farmers Market</a>. It felt good to fill our bellies with healthful food while not topping out the garbage can with packaging headed for the landfill. No Waste November 2018 was a success!<br />
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This year as November approached I geared up mentally to repeat last year. No sweat, this challenge isn't that hard. It was amazing to see how little waste we produced last year by simply refusing to purchase "one-use only" packaging.<br />
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And then November came, on the heels of the sudden death of a lovely woman we worked with for years on volunteer building projects. She was much too young, much too vibrant, much too full of life to even imagine her now dead. I stumbled into the eleventh month of the year, feeling like someone punched me hard in the middle of everything that counts.<br />
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A week after Mindy's memorial service, which was attended by 480 people who were equally stunned to the core, our dear friend Dal died. He was about the kindest, most soft-hearted man I've ever met, with a melodious voice that matched his well-chosen words of support and love. Any corner of me that didn't feel devastated, well Dal's death found it and set up camp. This was a hard month. Very hard.<br />
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And so our No Waste November became a Just Get Through November. I'm sure our buying habits and garbage production rates still are well below the average for our area, but yep, I caved and bought some treats. Treats in plastic. Salad kits from Trader Joe's with innumerable little bags of add-ins, in even more plastic. One shot eating, with the trash to prove it. Maybe next year, November, maybe next year.<br />
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So while we weren't perfect, and November pretty much stank, I'm going to count up the victories, which surprisingly were quiet orange and came in their own compostable packages.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A needed trip to Yosemite was squeezed in early November.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Soup is good for the saddest of souls.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ginger Bear did his best to cheer me up.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Persimmons did their thing, looking all perky and cute.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trader Joe's ingredients, every last one.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet Potato Chocolate Pie!<br />At least the sweet potatoes weren't packaged. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYIloepU4nvziehHh-Wd9REKnFeU62f8HPOX-xS0gIvAVH1yyw46ptAOr9eWSAWlcmsmEGFlmGiuIuFB1yT9rxbaeNdWbkQKQjeavhisC0bQUzb7LcmYu79iYocqLumrE4m2Mv5ygqc-9/s1600/IMG_0407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqYIloepU4nvziehHh-Wd9REKnFeU62f8HPOX-xS0gIvAVH1yyw46ptAOr9eWSAWlcmsmEGFlmGiuIuFB1yT9rxbaeNdWbkQKQjeavhisC0bQUzb7LcmYu79iYocqLumrE4m2Mv5ygqc-9/s320/IMG_0407.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A free pumpkin from my husband's work.<br />Comes in its own wrapper!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmzuEahMCsnfwy77sOaXiCTKGwvNy3hEbQUrnSAHXhzFVpqIxwphp2VN1JyIrHJjceb4vRbf6HLdmBJnuO9-PqTUttQyRw2NjHZdQw0RcmOFfaZ6BspYKgD35Z5FD5Ik04PyKCV89HU-l/s1600/IMG_0421.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQmzuEahMCsnfwy77sOaXiCTKGwvNy3hEbQUrnSAHXhzFVpqIxwphp2VN1JyIrHJjceb4vRbf6HLdmBJnuO9-PqTUttQyRw2NjHZdQw0RcmOFfaZ6BspYKgD35Z5FD5Ik04PyKCV89HU-l/s320/IMG_0421.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I invented Pumpkin Rice Porridge.<br />Baked in the shell.<br />Looks awful, tasted great.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjUfk9qsgyarOOEwNhVdcLnxiBYONB9LBSAPRak7l1W-TTQ93T5cSgr36C1zkl-UOP-5v-68uvxFKMWbxDJrxRsbcfjmIjL4vKK0kR-2zs71vOqPsjsiAHfaiVLPY-O8sBk01cJyOKHEhZ/s1600/IMG_9740+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjUfk9qsgyarOOEwNhVdcLnxiBYONB9LBSAPRak7l1W-TTQ93T5cSgr36C1zkl-UOP-5v-68uvxFKMWbxDJrxRsbcfjmIjL4vKK0kR-2zs71vOqPsjsiAHfaiVLPY-O8sBk01cJyOKHEhZ/s320/IMG_9740+%25281%2529.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Thus ends November 2019.<br />Eat well.<br />Tell your friends you love them.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-66440533492184223302019-09-14T14:54:00.000-07:002019-09-14T14:54:56.043-07:00Old photos - a sometimes blurry window on our world<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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When I was young we kept most of our photos in a big brown striped suitcase in our linen closet. We weren't big on photo albums as family, they existed for only certain occasions. Finding a photo meant digging through the big brown suitcase until you found the one you were looking for, plus twenty others you weren't. The brown suitcase went back East when my Mom moved to Connecticut, and after she died my sister in Portland became the keeper of the brown suitcase photos.</div>
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Along the way, I'm not sure how, but I came to have quite a few of the photos that technically belonged in the suitcase. I had a plan at one point to make an album for each of my four siblings of their family history, and I only got to my oldest brother Jim's project. That left me with lots of odds and ends of old family photos, going back to my Dad's family in Sweden. Lots of really amazing pictures of people who we're are related to, we just don't know exactly how. The women all have incredibly long wavy hair, so that might throw a wrench in the belief that they're blood relations. Other family photos contain well-dressed people at holiday parties, and other occasions, some quite mundane. People have come a long way, and unfortunately they are now traveling in yoga pants.</div>
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While my fashion sense has changed over the years too, my history of keeping photos organized can be summed up in two words. Hit and Miss. While I have several epic trips documented in amazing detail, and I'd created albums for the first seven years of our marriage, the remaining 21 years plus all the family photos I had went into photo boxes.</div>
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Photo boxes are a procrastinator's best friend, or enemy, depending on what you're focusing on. If hiding things away in a pleasant and stackable manner is the goal, they are great. If what you're looking for is your photos stored in a way you can find them, the more boxes you buy, the less likely you'll ever find that precious picture you're searching for.</div>
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Our photo organization, or lack of it, came to a head this past month. It's a whole other post I'm not ready to compose, but this summer while in Romania we received the news that my brother Jim was very ill. Upon our return, we were able to spend a few intense but very meaningful days with him before he passed away. With plans for a celebration of life in the works, my sister-in-law asked us for some photos of our family, with photos of young Jim in particular.</div>
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Out came the boxes and the photo shuffling started. Of course I couldn't find the ones I was looking for, who could in all those boxes of mixed-up photos? Old Swedish relatives, school photos, letters from my Grandma, get well cards, sympathy cards, camping trip after camping trip and way too many photos of the Pudgy Years, before we became plant-based. For every third photo there was a duplicate, even the really bad blurry ones.</div>
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I did my best to go through them all, and I found some family pictures I didn't even know I had. But to really do this right, we had to get rid of our couches. Yes, the couches had to go and here's why.</div>
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While sitting down one night contemplating life, I got the sense that our big green couch and love seat were not producing one spark of joy in me. We got them used, they were now even more used, they were too big for the room, they were losing their ability to properly hold up a human form in a comfortable manner and they were emanating the smell of Golden Retriever. Our friend Dan was over for dinner and without much thought I had Dan and Ernst move the couches to the garage. That weekend they went bye-bye via Craigslist.</div>
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What does this have to do with photos? Well, we moved the futon from the guest room into the living room as a temporary solution for the missing couches, and then grabbed the IKEA chairs from the tv room to add more seating. That made the rug look like it needed cleaning so it got one. Then the table in the corner looked out of place and bulky so we moved it to the tv room. All this furniture moving gave me a nice wide open space in the guest room to really tackle the photo project. Thank you big green couches, you really did serve us well until you didn't.</div>
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On a folding table in the guest room with no bed, I set out every single thing that contained photos or memories. This was the project I never got to when we <a href="https://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2015/05/tidying-up-its-changing-my-life.html">Konmaried</a> the house a few years ago. The amount didn't seem too daunting, then I remembered my husband must have some more to add. Yes he did, and at that point we had ourselves a photo-declutter-a-<span style="background-color: yellow;">rama</span>. Boxes and boxes, framed photos that had been packed away, lots of photo albums with those awful sticky backed pages with shiny plastic film, the ones that were so easy to overload with really bad blurry photos of people with their eyes closed and someone's finger halfway across the lens.</div>
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Why did we save so many of these photos? Because those were the days you paid for film, took photos hoping you got the right shot, so you took a few just in case and then you brought them to be developed and you paid for the prints - only to see closed eyes, blurry images and someone's finger halfway across the lens. We saved them because there were no do-overs. The moment had passed and all you had left was the really bad photo. So you put them in your sticky albums. And a funny thing happened. You forgave the photos for being of poor quality and you came to adore them. You didn't see the flaws, you saw the memory. And that's why it's so hard to part with these, they are old flawed friends and you can't just toss them away without a bit of guilt.</div>
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There was no way I was going to make chronological sense of any of these. This project isn't for passing down memories to generations to come, this is for us. It's so we can find that special photo when we need to. It's so we can toss the scenery photos and concentrate on the people pictures. I know what Half Dome looks like and I don't need a shot of it from 2004, but I do want that photo of our friends from Germany standing with the amazing granite peak in the background. OK, maybe we can toss the one where all four of them have their eyes closed, but that good one is a keeper!</div>
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Instead of by year, we separated them by categories. Places we've lived, friends from each place, dogs we've owned, kids we've known and loved, weddings (even the ones which ended in divorce because it's history) and many many trips. Lots and lots of people photos, and when you're looking at ten photos of a couple or family who mean a lot to you, it's easier to find a few good ones that flatter everyone if not most. If not, then we kept the blurry closed eyes photo. It's a reminder of simpler times.</div>
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While we aren't pared down as much as I would like to be, the mountain of photo boxes is now of a reasonable size. I know where all the photos of my brother Jim are, and that's very comforting. I have little tabs separating the categories of our life. The pictures of my childhood dogs are no longer barking up against that trip to Frankfurt, and New York photos aren't bobbing for space with trips to Apple Hill. It's not picture perfect, but I'm calling it almost there. Once we get the picture table down we can get the guest room back in order and bring in a new couch. I'll be sure to post some photos.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Wd97MrUz9tMM3GUnz2ebPfp7BesKfE7_6NSTf3XnAz50xNWMQrzlTB8HW4vOSRPe0OpzRLde6pbO34X9CzA4wSzeN7zZE9_PB9C4EZKwaREoY3xi4L6KakyMl3MxFaywIxlvwkFI8JO1/s1600/IMG_7711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2Wd97MrUz9tMM3GUnz2ebPfp7BesKfE7_6NSTf3XnAz50xNWMQrzlTB8HW4vOSRPe0OpzRLde6pbO34X9CzA4wSzeN7zZE9_PB9C4EZKwaREoY3xi4L6KakyMl3MxFaywIxlvwkFI8JO1/s320/IMG_7711.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First these had to go.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyoxZNwX9d2GECALz3H9nI2DDtznEXTcTOl5axcBJ-JKWmGhm_Td4xtN1m7kg_l2ePA7Ejh8QofdZ3fbMXxhu7lHDIBm_QgtSKe_oKHgQe5Ss6wC_OrbitMHdEjTgzHOF2Jx3YcshN5WA/s1600/IMG_7753.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXyoxZNwX9d2GECALz3H9nI2DDtznEXTcTOl5axcBJ-JKWmGhm_Td4xtN1m7kg_l2ePA7Ejh8QofdZ3fbMXxhu7lHDIBm_QgtSKe_oKHgQe5Ss6wC_OrbitMHdEjTgzHOF2Jx3YcshN5WA/s320/IMG_7753.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And temporary items were borrowed from other rooms.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfUz5tshjfzRxcv1R2WJwQmHhlVVovQnb0BcY2zHeD0BaXjBXO5knDnSC5hTkX9P_ZXQypY3AFc_W7uVFdRubO96ki0vdCiK2A93e2tBJVs3mPkuke8miZdhQRskifYkRVvYSZN3ygml9/s1600/IMG_7755.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYfUz5tshjfzRxcv1R2WJwQmHhlVVovQnb0BcY2zHeD0BaXjBXO5knDnSC5hTkX9P_ZXQypY3AFc_W7uVFdRubO96ki0vdCiK2A93e2tBJVs3mPkuke8miZdhQRskifYkRVvYSZN3ygml9/s320/IMG_7755.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Which opened up this spot for a photo table.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_3zebybMBkVxMXRp-y9lJhRaqYkliGcp96s_-9mYQ7ybdiHsg5SJadGqxpUfUFj8szPH3H_VpuoR2OR-dT5vr0-sC69yLEZiOvz5Vk_ihPQl4xbFZzzPQphXq9Odx-lSFazLJG4OH1Wq/s1600/IMG_7759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjY_3zebybMBkVxMXRp-y9lJhRaqYkliGcp96s_-9mYQ7ybdiHsg5SJadGqxpUfUFj8szPH3H_VpuoR2OR-dT5vr0-sC69yLEZiOvz5Vk_ihPQl4xbFZzzPQphXq9Odx-lSFazLJG4OH1Wq/s320/IMG_7759.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Eeks, found more!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMNc6BMxhQnBKOHMrEZWKpDhWtXWbmA3r9qQr2aYwzLrEWr4Txd3hmogPytMs5yO_jVTmLW1cLf404v54GrK3Nu-Uo7i2L3kc1nkJq5rlUwJuRSrL74338PLnKd-rDdskF5KHQYv8f4h7/s1600/IMG_7930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTMNc6BMxhQnBKOHMrEZWKpDhWtXWbmA3r9qQr2aYwzLrEWr4Txd3hmogPytMs5yO_jVTmLW1cLf404v54GrK3Nu-Uo7i2L3kc1nkJq5rlUwJuRSrL74338PLnKd-rDdskF5KHQYv8f4h7/s320/IMG_7930.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things got delayed with a plumbing problem.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs31-LssD6m6xi9rAYC53_zSsDh6uZ-TvxveLQXvrNy2yROuEFTOs6FoMwrs9GOUAzKhWIIuKrsDDACs9nBOnnAWjvqP8IutJR4yvI9SMdiKa2HtvFkBTT96panaTRyrajjleUtozCw-F/s1600/IMG_7984.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijs31-LssD6m6xi9rAYC53_zSsDh6uZ-TvxveLQXvrNy2yROuEFTOs6FoMwrs9GOUAzKhWIIuKrsDDACs9nBOnnAWjvqP8IutJR4yvI9SMdiKa2HtvFkBTT96panaTRyrajjleUtozCw-F/s320/IMG_7984.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Had to take a photo of that.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTnn8HIceuilvNA4QunY-Urt7jiFCf3FHDHlX74dW7NplOrHesTOeka0S01KR_mr1ZezqH5xbGsJ-93wreeOvs61tmr3OPxP2j69r5ZQEilaTUJpW15q22xHrlcm89eOGzD5OcmWgk3Ds/s1600/IMG_8078.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="577" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbTnn8HIceuilvNA4QunY-Urt7jiFCf3FHDHlX74dW7NplOrHesTOeka0S01KR_mr1ZezqH5xbGsJ-93wreeOvs61tmr3OPxP2j69r5ZQEilaTUJpW15q22xHrlcm89eOGzD5OcmWgk3Ds/s320/IMG_8078.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The photo I was searching for that started this whole thing.<br />My brother Jim with his puppy Bantu and my puppy Holly.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-WvfaR7n_dccFwSOQf0HegmhvGXEHwjklSw1pWP44jf0GN4vvb6B5J-soRt3DVrLoWde3hcSIlZEDFfwvRTsXiYa6RCCHht2upVuQwKQdr6WfXQTAn84pwihN8HuW47LamQktN_isTqe3/s1600/IMG_8146.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-WvfaR7n_dccFwSOQf0HegmhvGXEHwjklSw1pWP44jf0GN4vvb6B5J-soRt3DVrLoWde3hcSIlZEDFfwvRTsXiYa6RCCHht2upVuQwKQdr6WfXQTAn84pwihN8HuW47LamQktN_isTqe3/s320/IMG_8146.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Things got serious.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_swPTbNFWlphC7khG9YKKtDXvl8h5OugUcYNqnEyXJfZ67iI5rPdGFOrnxtvszuk20xauH5VCnsJKGjbMbMW9LDylJqW6TeXb6i-908E4VGm8AnhdoZf0n-rgttQr6-0jXei3Z3TpOyd/s1600/IMG_8388.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="415" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEia_swPTbNFWlphC7khG9YKKtDXvl8h5OugUcYNqnEyXJfZ67iI5rPdGFOrnxtvszuk20xauH5VCnsJKGjbMbMW9LDylJqW6TeXb6i-908E4VGm8AnhdoZf0n-rgttQr6-0jXei3Z3TpOyd/s320/IMG_8388.jpg" width="207" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And I found more treasures.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HPcuWk9HYt5hYM1_uzyo5xUv__nAh18HTmzkl3sUeszVlNfUNpmoF2XEJK5TJxW3QHqaDUYEjZ1ccHkQKVQSUipgNC54NCPLhmgYB4RLygEth6fOy3apVnZLo8BdWlVxz1s09pOpIi_w/s1600/IMG_8521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8HPcuWk9HYt5hYM1_uzyo5xUv__nAh18HTmzkl3sUeszVlNfUNpmoF2XEJK5TJxW3QHqaDUYEjZ1ccHkQKVQSUipgNC54NCPLhmgYB4RLygEth6fOy3apVnZLo8BdWlVxz1s09pOpIi_w/s320/IMG_8521.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It got a bit better.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpkwz_Rcgqaety7tKe7Rspp9V6N70XitZP_AEIq6xkpryq4QA94YJMvDGqKcOmm6g8LrFMk3LBgTfxphfRGD5kD0s5o-eUpyxV8a9tmPHacHa8E-y5dCTyYfOew_PNLiyJuCO-6Iqu3Vn/s1600/IMG_8554.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIpkwz_Rcgqaety7tKe7Rspp9V6N70XitZP_AEIq6xkpryq4QA94YJMvDGqKcOmm6g8LrFMk3LBgTfxphfRGD5kD0s5o-eUpyxV8a9tmPHacHa8E-y5dCTyYfOew_PNLiyJuCO-6Iqu3Vn/s320/IMG_8554.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Using the game table in the tv room was a home run.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Mxsq5tIRg6S-ldhs281MHaO_1rGB6hX1CeARNjvxRmYY9YJZuk486rdDY6O1LnRlvqEV0wY0Q6s0NaV7bI9JGpic_m57ShzUGLIevEutCfSfrrjWfqTw5Tdhs_nHWqiVdpyDrdFAF0yY/s1600/IMG_8560.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6Mxsq5tIRg6S-ldhs281MHaO_1rGB6hX1CeARNjvxRmYY9YJZuk486rdDY6O1LnRlvqEV0wY0Q6s0NaV7bI9JGpic_m57ShzUGLIevEutCfSfrrjWfqTw5Tdhs_nHWqiVdpyDrdFAF0yY/s320/IMG_8560.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Categories. We have categories.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61ciwxNOId-0RDpRMwCXzmNXz53YnX9bJpGOBeT3dxeEURDdzqkguqNwiARVnKb11JCjRM3qS0S7fhodtg93_KCorjKNXxr-LRUXA3iXQt370Bj7XeN775MjGqt5U3GbSarRstg1gw0VW/s1600/IMG_8562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="464" data-original-width="640" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh61ciwxNOId-0RDpRMwCXzmNXz53YnX9bJpGOBeT3dxeEURDdzqkguqNwiARVnKb11JCjRM3qS0S7fhodtg93_KCorjKNXxr-LRUXA3iXQt370Bj7XeN775MjGqt5U3GbSarRstg1gw0VW/s320/IMG_8562.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Whittled down to this, plus some boxes of memories.<br />And a few albums.<br />Was it worth it?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVfE1EyGpqMW7s4E32t0pnEpj6zff5Egc7m8zh0KK-SGb6itpXIyJioFbUbDeUuAOiblaEX878fUpswcwaMtQz5sfFBUfBbknMe7fGF_qRTZhcIV-Wu3heydiZzF1ir2ykJJinSr3Ra-I/s1600/IMG_8578.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="578" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyVfE1EyGpqMW7s4E32t0pnEpj6zff5Egc7m8zh0KK-SGb6itpXIyJioFbUbDeUuAOiblaEX878fUpswcwaMtQz5sfFBUfBbknMe7fGF_qRTZhcIV-Wu3heydiZzF1ir2ykJJinSr3Ra-I/s320/IMG_8578.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">When you rediscover that photo of your friend standing on the Twin Towers...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLzqpFD7TQYr57NMEvMRvnheqBLOMPhy8eforl9zykalw2uQHd_Tg0RLx0yB8nQrk6MWQT5qiR8NmIlRnnUStpKAJcWU3VNckWVDwCTtGj8I5BjU8uHKomJtETvUMrp4Gc28imkwpjUMZ/s1600/IMG_8581.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="469" data-original-width="640" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkLzqpFD7TQYr57NMEvMRvnheqBLOMPhy8eforl9zykalw2uQHd_Tg0RLx0yB8nQrk6MWQT5qiR8NmIlRnnUStpKAJcWU3VNckWVDwCTtGj8I5BjU8uHKomJtETvUMrp4Gc28imkwpjUMZ/s320/IMG_8581.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and that trip to Windows on the World where I ate sushi for the first time?<br />Even some of the "Why Did I Save This?" photos were worth saving after all.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-44379511703446192772019-06-19T17:34:00.001-07:002019-06-19T17:34:58.103-07:00I was in stitches, but it wasn't funny<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
That Friday started out so well. I did some volunteer work in the morning, stopped for groceries on the way home and was now preparing a salad for some guests that night. It was our first little pool party of the summer, a summer that came late for pool parties. The house was reasonably clean, the yard was reasonably in order and our young guests were reasonably excited about being the first to take a swim at our place in 2019.<br />
<br /><br />
Our guests were bringing the bulk of the meal, they are just that way and I've stopped fighting it. But I wanted to add a simple salad - canned garbanzo beans, halved cherry tomatoes, black olives, chopped parsley and some seasonings. Oh yes, we can't forget the diced red onion. The onion gives it that little bit of punch, that pop of flavor that says you cared enough to dice up something extra. A bit of red onion is perfect for that.<br />
<br /><br />
"Almost done here, just have to dice up this onion and the salad is done, hmm, this knife probably needs sharpening again, I just had it sharpened, we sure go through a lot of produce, oh well I'm just about finished..."<br />
<br /><br />
And just about then the knife slipped off the onion and right into the tip of my left index finger. The finger that according to instructional videos on how to safely and quickly dice an onion should have been bent in such a way that makes slicing it with the knife next to impossible. The same finger that still bore the slight scar a bit further down from another slip of the same knife from a few weeks before.<br />
<br /><br />
In my defense I would like to add that I process lots and lots of fresh produce with that combination of knife and fingers. Barrels of produce both bulky and thick, and heaps of herbs - fine and delicate. I still have all my fingers. For now.<br />
<br /><br />
After slicing into my finger I gasped and grabbed a semi-clean, semi-dirty dish towel. It's not like it was covered in chicken juice or anything, but later I did make a mental note to reach for a completely clean dish towel in the future event I cut myself again and there is blood. <br />
<br /><br />
After the shivers raced up my spine and into the far reaches of my head, I ran some water under my finger to see what was up. The skin opened up in such a way as to cue up the theme for Jaws, so I knew I had to get my husband involved at this point. I called him in, but was a bit afraid to take the clean/dirty towel off my finger. I decided to try rinsing it again. Jaws 2. <br />
<br /><br />
A decision had to be made. Head to the ER for stitches, a visit that would cost $500 in a copay? Or pay out of pocket to visit an Urgent Care not connected to our health plan, which by now seemed like not much of plan. I called the advice nurse and found out Sacramento has an Urgent Care again, located in the south area. My dirty-from-yard-work husband cleaned up my finger and wrapped it enough for me to drive to Urgent Care. He was way too dirty to think of coming, so I drove myself, finger sticking straight up the whole way. Index finger, which is better for driving in traffic.<br />
<br /><br />
I arrived and took a number like I was about to order ice cream or make a return at IKEA. I sat down. My knees went weak for a second. But then I began to convince myself maybe it wasn't that bad, "I bet they can just glue this old shark flap shut."<br />
<br /><br />
No-go on the super glue, it needed stiches and the most painful shot I've ever had ever ever ever - straight down the center of my finger from the tip. I usually like to look when I get a shot, but the MA said not to look, so I trusted him. I'd like to say I made no noises whatsoever while receiving this shot, but I tell the truth always, so I'll say maybe I groaned a few times. To distract me, the assistant asked what I was making when I cut my finger. Garbanzo salad with tomatoes and herbs. And some red onion. He asked if I was vegan. Why yes, I am plant-based. So was he, and that might have been the first Plant-based High Five (with my other hand) while receiving a shot on the other hand in the history of that particular Urgent Care. We talked recipes while the man with the shot sewed me up with three stitches. He said it was pretty deep. Um, yes, deep is a good word.<br />
<br /><br />
I got home with my finger wrapped up, still blissfully numb. We decided not to disappoint our little guests and went on with our little swim party and marshmallow toasting bonfire. I sat there with my finger sticking out like a sore thumb, a position it would stay in for many weeks to come.<br />
<br /><br />
First, I must comment on how amazing the human body is. It took longer than I thought, but now at almost eight weeks later I just feel the slightest numbness and loss of sensation on one bit of my finger. I'm sure it will continue to go away and I'll be fine, because it's already 99.998% better. <br />
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Second, the body is very adaptable. At first I couldn't do anything right with only nine fingers, I kept bumping it on everything within bumping distance, and all tasks were clumsy and slow. Then I got used to it and when I healed up I had to remind myself that I had 10 fingers. Slowly I got back to typing and crocheting and picking stuff up without wincing. And yes, very carefully, with added skill and technique, I chop onions like a Food Network Star, with less speed. No more slipped knives, no more stiches, just lots of shark-like precision.<br />
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Here is the progression of amazingness, our bodies really are amazing.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgDpTHXnl8w6DPM1eDLOXyWKdXImBVo_EC_Zrmi-1k__vWkpj8jV7YycVjie8DdKdT-AdtzI3s7Z5KYUBqIkT4tEGRFfCoLxO9aO_4W4BBFO-GFi81-tV51XGqb0iiqLMh3ZgsNBG-R-a/s1600/1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibgDpTHXnl8w6DPM1eDLOXyWKdXImBVo_EC_Zrmi-1k__vWkpj8jV7YycVjie8DdKdT-AdtzI3s7Z5KYUBqIkT4tEGRFfCoLxO9aO_4W4BBFO-GFi81-tV51XGqb0iiqLMh3ZgsNBG-R-a/s320/1.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ick. Ouch. Stupid onion.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsswGrqFtJqQVaUjcTZpVuXxHSzc1RZd70sL76gzUktB0DXqs0NDzGhlX6grS3nRxSQR8M58KAnpBOAC1oRjektmRUlLBv7my_G4qIA6sKLXH6hz_nqDHiI8laO4KNdwjEGF98eS1a6UK7/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsswGrqFtJqQVaUjcTZpVuXxHSzc1RZd70sL76gzUktB0DXqs0NDzGhlX6grS3nRxSQR8M58KAnpBOAC1oRjektmRUlLBv7my_G4qIA6sKLXH6hz_nqDHiI8laO4KNdwjEGF98eS1a6UK7/s320/2.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Still ouch.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO4ZLmVFK9guPZkSHapZ8hKBnj76OEqYTMC_ncMwB1gxb3OKYBYMsI04XOBkfHYYGEqFmch-saNHtxP7Rx1NkG-dWnTmvj6ffZeP4x3RtUufonXyANxHwCvx_kdyqaf-0k8w_Uw7DABSs/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimO4ZLmVFK9guPZkSHapZ8hKBnj76OEqYTMC_ncMwB1gxb3OKYBYMsI04XOBkfHYYGEqFmch-saNHtxP7Rx1NkG-dWnTmvj6ffZeP4x3RtUufonXyANxHwCvx_kdyqaf-0k8w_Uw7DABSs/s320/3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No yard work for me!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bRKAqVjUmtnU1hfesfgE7NTqQldXM6dmg6-FvF6hve9upxCqoSPBlOhyphenhyphenzU8da3cimexLxDbVAHnYK4ven8V2N4KNDtIVXgB3adzMAwFNW-9TaQmrBb94siqUqxMOz5SbrAzpAuTOiUP7/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7bRKAqVjUmtnU1hfesfgE7NTqQldXM6dmg6-FvF6hve9upxCqoSPBlOhyphenhyphenzU8da3cimexLxDbVAHnYK4ven8V2N4KNDtIVXgB3adzMAwFNW-9TaQmrBb94siqUqxMOz5SbrAzpAuTOiUP7/s320/4.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Can't wait to get the stitches out!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiOTobKkSESStuvN6-_fTna5cXOhu-uytxi4tO4Ts7hHJmfiIc-maoEQcKFsnUKVs_yo55p4jyL4w87benFjB07VbQpS1p-5wDLnwZMKcwXzai00k9NX4TplfYr0-ka6MzA89ij6gD72N/s1600/5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqiOTobKkSESStuvN6-_fTna5cXOhu-uytxi4tO4Ts7hHJmfiIc-maoEQcKFsnUKVs_yo55p4jyL4w87benFjB07VbQpS1p-5wDLnwZMKcwXzai00k9NX4TplfYr0-ka6MzA89ij6gD72N/s320/5.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stiches out, Steri strips on.<br />
Ah, the relief.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_h99kU_IRGCoK0UnN-EMT4psoSZUFg9pE-4ImCWbdYmw3-jVPbBkzhK5zKW7NAxwHkvwBry1XLiDca_O5jFYciNE2R3cyEyxU3FJobNYoVedPA5UpZLN_YUwAc5CCTSeCm1B41ZYwzzX/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="561" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz_h99kU_IRGCoK0UnN-EMT4psoSZUFg9pE-4ImCWbdYmw3-jVPbBkzhK5zKW7NAxwHkvwBry1XLiDca_O5jFYciNE2R3cyEyxU3FJobNYoVedPA5UpZLN_YUwAc5CCTSeCm1B41ZYwzzX/s320/6.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Go finger go!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiD4iK2mKASr3TIwRHxBQEIzbQf2vROzRFjkSCHhlTVA7VXvSvLKBOIfrVyby8pdkuvAd7nPEr_3lT3lsZ-OGrqsqVphZe2xy4NyyaO-M5kgUWSq8FGQsGoWY3oTlhGDShKtDfQjH5lvm4/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="561" data-original-width="421" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiD4iK2mKASr3TIwRHxBQEIzbQf2vROzRFjkSCHhlTVA7VXvSvLKBOIfrVyby8pdkuvAd7nPEr_3lT3lsZ-OGrqsqVphZe2xy4NyyaO-M5kgUWSq8FGQsGoWY3oTlhGDShKtDfQjH5lvm4/s320/8.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Almost there!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I love you non-dominate-hand index finger.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-83029650099633710682019-05-14T12:15:00.004-07:002019-05-20T09:26:47.537-07:00Cottage Creek Iris Farm?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
People are often surprised when they step into our house for the first time and see our yard. It's on a street with other modest houses built in the late 1950's. Hardwood floors, one small bathroom, no insulation in the walls. People were made of tougher stuff back then, didn't spend hours in the bathroom and wore more sweaters it seems. They wanted small houses and big yards, a bit opposite of the trend of late with McMansions on postage stamp-sized lots. I don't understand the big house trend, but on many a hot summer day when our yard needs attention, I long for a stamp-sized yard.<br>
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That's because right here in the suburbs of Sacramento we have 1/3 of an acre of property. That's a lot of maintenance, even when we've been trying for five years to make it maintenance free. I've come to appreciate that only giant slabs of concrete are maintenance free. So we keep chipping away at our yard, section by section, mostly with wood chips, sweat and blistered hands. We have made progress, but there are still areas to be tackled.<br>
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<b>The Redwood Grove </b><br>
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Yes, we have a grove of redwoods. Well, actually just three really tall ones that freak me out when they sway in a big winter storm. Under them is a super cute nursery of baby redwoods. The little guys don't scare me when they wave in the wind, they aren't tall enough to bring the house down yet. We want to plant some ferns in the redwood grove, but it's not high on the list right now. Only the swaying redwoods are high.<br>
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<b>Dudley's Fence Area</b><br>
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We have a cool neighbor named Dudley, and I'm convinced that everyone should have such a neighbor. He keeps his yard nice, he has a garden, he gives us plants and I just love to see my husband way out in the back chatting with Dudley over the fence. The fence is very old, and Ernst and Dudley are determined to keep it going because they are those kinds of people. Good old fences that require cooperation to keep up make for good neighbors. On our side of the fence we have a nectarine and fig tree, a sycamore that looks like a dragon, a few iris bulbs I planted last fall and a weed farm I didn't plant. It needs some attention and lots of wood chips.<br>
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<b>The Mound of Dirt</b><br>
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The big mound of dirt came from when we put in the Basketball Court/Dance Floor. The big mound of dirt used to make me upset because you can't just have a big mound of dirt in your yard and just leave it there. But now I know you can. It eventually starts shrinking and growing clover and probably would look like we planned it if we just covered it with chips.<br>
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<b>The Garbage Area</b><br>
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Ugh, what can you say about a garbage area? This is the place that no matter what we do with the rest of the yard - the pool area, a covered patio, a grassy area, the little orchard, Dudley's fence, the fernless redwoods, the vegetable garden, the dance floor/basketball court, and other random places that we make pretty for a party - no, no, no, some people end up eating their food, while standing, in our garbage area. I have seen male guests standing up eating using our recycle bin as a table. I'll never get it. I just walk over to the redwood grove and scream to the ferns that aren't there yet.<br>
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<b>The Old Dog Kennel</b><br>
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Way in the back corner of our yard is a sad little area that used to be a dog kennel. The first owner put it in. Dogs should not be put in kennels as far from their people as possible. Neither should vegetable gardens, so I have wisely decided to keep ours closer to the house. This has left the kennel area to be quite neglected. It still has the weed barrier down that the previous owners installed when they thought it would be a good garden spot. They too learned that gardens should be closer to the house. The weed barrier is coming up in giant hunks, the weeds ignored the barrier. We keep our compost bins there, our wood and random branches that fall from the redwood trees.<br>
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But I'm going to turn things around for the old dog kennel. I love irises. They love me. They love this soil. You can ignore them. They're drought tolerant. You can dig them up and sell the rhizomes. I love them, or did I mention that? Did I also mention they are the lazy gardener's dream plant? And that you can SELL them? So when I dig up some of our iris bulbs this Fall to sell them, I'm also going to plant a bunch back in this sad corner of the yard, hopefully making it a happy profitable spot. The redwoods are so jealous.<br>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zAseQPSctLbDrkQNcFBbjpwr5hrYpv3ST51SXkm6LhYojRuSk6S9_FpZSXvdTlT8yGe7HiSmpQfbm8iUsDXE5cfHISVZJwknTUHJZXsjWmfHr4xijWY9YXyJ-xovHFpZYxRODYEC3hQZ/s1600/IMG_3487.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zAseQPSctLbDrkQNcFBbjpwr5hrYpv3ST51SXkm6LhYojRuSk6S9_FpZSXvdTlT8yGe7HiSmpQfbm8iUsDXE5cfHISVZJwknTUHJZXsjWmfHr4xijWY9YXyJ-xovHFpZYxRODYEC3hQZ/s200/IMG_3487.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yellow Submarines</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBAVWSPa4Rea53qxg5Gi_cUMDDktb_EhEq5bia1qOfPy9QTsjXUGe79T4MVxs3eKaAHGwC7PAZxjzvEh7hACrsd5XPjXkwBvIHaipX01MlgshnmL1_bDgBMH58MjgNrhfBdXw3n3ScgJL/s1600/IMG_3632.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibBAVWSPa4Rea53qxg5Gi_cUMDDktb_EhEq5bia1qOfPy9QTsjXUGe79T4MVxs3eKaAHGwC7PAZxjzvEh7hACrsd5XPjXkwBvIHaipX01MlgshnmL1_bDgBMH58MjgNrhfBdXw3n3ScgJL/s200/IMG_3632.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Touch of Green</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-uCP9XY2K1enT0I649qT5W5VvWjQsVDfUkqx1gcfLi61xahQIVuHyQWmLz01b6LFIWeZTX7-ta46Cg1j1vBgg1RYrDUs9iSoOj62ytTZ1at3lNwhOXtVW6JzCDLri2Jdmu532yMK9R9L/s1600/IMG_3562.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8-uCP9XY2K1enT0I649qT5W5VvWjQsVDfUkqx1gcfLi61xahQIVuHyQWmLz01b6LFIWeZTX7-ta46Cg1j1vBgg1RYrDUs9iSoOj62ytTZ1at3lNwhOXtVW6JzCDLri2Jdmu532yMK9R9L/s200/IMG_3562.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Purple Periscope</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jvPnIi2kMyIqUmMjI2DsE7zlATyf2nmZF2erJdP1LbIHlPrGP_ZZaPkbrRhdFxUZeDg0oqt0Z_csrnGau91v4Q-pbIjXU7ey0yXJnnl5-CfDPp13s1GZI80WM_Ym6cDBDlHJJQGXzZB4/s1600/IMG_3630.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_jvPnIi2kMyIqUmMjI2DsE7zlATyf2nmZF2erJdP1LbIHlPrGP_ZZaPkbrRhdFxUZeDg0oqt0Z_csrnGau91v4Q-pbIjXU7ey0yXJnnl5-CfDPp13s1GZI80WM_Ym6cDBDlHJJQGXzZB4/s200/IMG_3630.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ice Cream Sherbet</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3n9gsfSiIEZ0yOINPAHvDaF3BbazICODZ2bCeMZSAF19tsliEuCbRV08hlFCcPT3w3s4jivXqPdOqkh_k8uXI8bywKtv4cBKEyi47crGPfajkyhSHRrperv1jcfJbCdC8eZpa_oqrqBd/s1600/IMG_4145.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3n9gsfSiIEZ0yOINPAHvDaF3BbazICODZ2bCeMZSAF19tsliEuCbRV08hlFCcPT3w3s4jivXqPdOqkh_k8uXI8bywKtv4cBKEyi47crGPfajkyhSHRrperv1jcfJbCdC8eZpa_oqrqBd/s200/IMG_4145.jpg" width="150"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prom Dress</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjDhkijX4hoOHniX9EEXlVXUaXwCJGqSoSFwDKXG3bxg9eE9ViTheC6PxKS9Ub8VY3hyphenhyphenHY0OHQMVkEKd5tfDhJvHCNlMicMJym5pdPwXoLhojrpKgHeB6u97G6FiZE_8q1Pn2e5uMgP6g/s1600/IMG_4338.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGjDhkijX4hoOHniX9EEXlVXUaXwCJGqSoSFwDKXG3bxg9eE9ViTheC6PxKS9Ub8VY3hyphenhyphenHY0OHQMVkEKd5tfDhJvHCNlMicMJym5pdPwXoLhojrpKgHeB6u97G6FiZE_8q1Pn2e5uMgP6g/s320/IMG_4338.jpg" width="240"></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Future home of Cottage Creek Iris Farm!</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-63257755288329984582019-03-26T16:12:00.002-07:002019-03-26T16:16:57.675-07:00Jessica Bear in Yosemite!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Upper Falls<br />Lower Falls<br />Jessica Bear</td></tr>
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It had been a very very long time since I'd been to Yosemite. We used to go all the time, when we camped with friends who were dedicated enough back in the day to get camping reservations there. It used to be really hard and involved waking up early exactly 3 months beforehand and calling the parks people and promising them a kidney or some other vital organ in exchange for a camping spot. To get a spot on the valley floor you practically had to come up with two kidneys. These friends were good at playing the Yosemite camping game, and we were happy beneficiaries of their diligence. Now you just go online and there are no kidney donations required. And yet we still don't go.<br />
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There have been occasions over the years that my husband has brought visiting guests down to see Yosemite, in one big long day trip. I've always had to work, or there wasn't room in the car for all of us, and hence a huge lapse in my visiting this most amazing place. I had tried to convince myself that maybe it wasn't that great, after all Lake Tahoe is pretty cool and who can look down their nose at the California coastline? Certainly not me. So Yosemite sat there, unvisited for years and years.<br />
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And then some friends visited, raved about seeing it all in winter and something clicked and I suddenly had to get back to Yosemite. My sister was coming for a visit, she loves Tahoe and the ocean, but I put a trip to see Half Dome on the Must See, Must See, I Really Must See List. The forecast changed about a dozen times, but I was still determined and we kept our options open for a day that had no clouds. Zero clouds, not a one, that's what I was looking for on my Weather Channel app and that came two Thursdays ago. Temperature was no factor for me, it was all about the clouds ma'am.<br />
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We hit a pleasantly brisk, absolutely cloudless day with very few people. In fact, there were so few people we nodded at those we had already seen and did the "We'll take your picture if you'll take ours" routine. With so many roads and trails still closed due to snow, it was amazing how uncrowded it was. Definitely a plus to not going in summer.<br />
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The park has been through it with all the storms this winter. My sister asked a ranger at Half Dome Village (formerly Curry Village) if there had been a microburst or something that had come through, we saw so many downed trees. No, he said, just so much snow and stormy conditions, many trees were down everywhere. The entrance from Merced looked like a beaver convention, trees felled in an unbelievable amount. They had crews working to get the park in shape for its spring opening season, which is April 1st.<br />
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What is it about Yosemite that makes it so awe inspiring? Half Dome is iconic of course, and El Capitan takes your breath away. But it occurred to me while there with so few people, and a chance to walk so much of the valley because other parts were closed, is that the valley itself is the most incredible part of Yosemite. Gigantic cliffs surrounding a huge flat expanse, the flatness in complete contrast to the soaring heights.<br />
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Yosemite Valley is like an EKG of a person's wildly beating heart. Then it flatlines, Then it starts up again at full speed. The valley is the flatline, and it makes the rock faces of El Capitan, Half Dome, Glacier Point and the other sheer granite mountains that much more impressive. I'm super glad we went and I certainly hope my Yosemite drought is over.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccEP6asRoA74SbnVeu1aix0y5lN7ufUpShqXkIixLzbxZDqQedM7vdNCp2wabeolzw-1DpCP4_957XA9RVplEAuyZVu1H1WHJ-kt1QMi-MyL_AgrkkxQQqphkbqH_8wp9YbMXrVYUJCei/s1600/IMG_3019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="90" data-original-width="320" height="112" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgccEP6asRoA74SbnVeu1aix0y5lN7ufUpShqXkIixLzbxZDqQedM7vdNCp2wabeolzw-1DpCP4_957XA9RVplEAuyZVu1H1WHJ-kt1QMi-MyL_AgrkkxQQqphkbqH_8wp9YbMXrVYUJCei/s400/IMG_3019.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"And the skies were not cloudy all day."<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Any road trip has to begin with a stop at Trader Joes!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yippee, Half Dome didn't go anywhere!</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxPFbs0SSpMrDVZLGU7q3SeYWY_9Eqgy-fdJSVRdB4Y4YxtbStk1ub_PANujxi3mxyPqQ8GmsG_fnf3mBS4rA0klH50JUSx39FrNGb_pI3N4AbHpDf56ZpDDH8Z8uih_GzfMi6Z7uvsRao/s1600/IMG_2954.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3Ld0ZAg5BllE5314am67YECLE-DfLCJwR_AtgPsKH2ytbj7aDldyz383UYav-8X5aomSeDPX0vgz8x5OqpP-JO3PhPbd1H3l2ORW8_eYhcot0Cuq9Lf6QRB3fp7FhdpEO3ihbkBbWxXa/s1600/IMG_2991.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii3Ld0ZAg5BllE5314am67YECLE-DfLCJwR_AtgPsKH2ytbj7aDldyz383UYav-8X5aomSeDPX0vgz8x5OqpP-JO3PhPbd1H3l2ORW8_eYhcot0Cuq9Lf6QRB3fp7FhdpEO3ihbkBbWxXa/s1600/IMG_2991.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All those cliffs make you dizzy.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUFtucHRnySSCkcpoyglkFfjhDHNEHZRBD-L9aM4ruZAd_yf-mkkNXS7skjeBXv15v1_iuFHaBLEczXUL2HAVsFtbIdHECU8g0IhnyYOXgHIqUCM1MaS14rx8sfsttI9kgfuI-3BMOUAG/s1600/IMG_3011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmUFtucHRnySSCkcpoyglkFfjhDHNEHZRBD-L9aM4ruZAd_yf-mkkNXS7skjeBXv15v1_iuFHaBLEczXUL2HAVsFtbIdHECU8g0IhnyYOXgHIqUCM1MaS14rx8sfsttI9kgfuI-3BMOUAG/s1600/IMG_3011.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica Bear wants you to know she fell off this giant mound<br />
of snow onto the dirty street and lived to 'tell the tail".<br />
Hiking can be dangerous in winter.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKaO3rbv2Dcur-nclfE3kf-0ubkyH3VeZ6C5vva8Vyehq5TSRGYOaTIjZX4q4LGrLx5e0CM8t9rxwkrqC88bQsei57VU1N2XWQSCTKxoSx6x2tzKnCJ3yl8wXpLpIHR6gTmkdrOIZG8L1/s1600/IMG_3016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPKaO3rbv2Dcur-nclfE3kf-0ubkyH3VeZ6C5vva8Vyehq5TSRGYOaTIjZX4q4LGrLx5e0CM8t9rxwkrqC88bQsei57VU1N2XWQSCTKxoSx6x2tzKnCJ3yl8wXpLpIHR6gTmkdrOIZG8L1/s1600/IMG_3016.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No crowds, no clouds. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Half Dome and El Capitan in one day.<br />
What a bear!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd29-TtRwsTP8npuzeURts6ASohxCQZAeYQ6L7xDEL_8damfuZ49Yv5mSKF0FsY4NwyJL6I01Q5WZc5qBA5R8lSSfyvtoy0vMPD2IFwpdNVpsOhBHtL54UMTz6lJYXOIxwx2YXWU3jLcwF/s1600/IMG_3024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd29-TtRwsTP8npuzeURts6ASohxCQZAeYQ6L7xDEL_8damfuZ49Yv5mSKF0FsY4NwyJL6I01Q5WZc5qBA5R8lSSfyvtoy0vMPD2IFwpdNVpsOhBHtL54UMTz6lJYXOIxwx2YXWU3jLcwF/s1600/IMG_3024.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing on flat ground.<br />
Staring up at sheer granite.<br />
It's what makes Yosemite such a special place.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-13916451231731497642019-03-02T15:14:00.001-08:002019-03-02T15:14:08.999-08:00Grey Matters<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<b>A quick update on my decision to stop coloring my hair on November 9th, and the highlights I got in January to ease the process.</b></div>
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<i><b>I regret it! It's horrible, I hate it and I wish I never did it.</b></i></div>
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The highlights that is, I wish I never did the highlights.</div>
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The decision to go grey? I'm so happy! Why didn't I do this <i>years</i> ago? I'm "only" grey around the front, mostly the sideburn area. And yet I've been dying my hair a very warm color for many years, only to discover that the hair coming out of my head isn't warm at all. I'm so excited for this new color that's coming in, it's like I'm going to the salon every week to get a new look, I don't know quite where it's all headed, and it's completely free. The highlights I got in January just delayed the whole process and I wish I could undo what I did. Getting my money back would be cool too, but oh well. Now I'm just out the money and the hair breakage that resulted. Sorry wallet, sorry hair.</div>
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My advice if you want to ditch the dye? Grow it out using all the tricks in the book for covering grey, for as long as you can stand it. Use hats, scarves, grey cover spray, strategic parting, berets, headbands and anything else that gets you thru the first two months. It's super amazing to find out what color your hair is. Are you silver? Grey? White? Salt and pepper? All of the above? </div>
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Then make the decision if you want to try some highlights or lowlights or maybe some color fading if you've been using a very dark color. Find a colorist who supports you. As much as I would not want to be a blond, if I was going from super red or black hair to grey, I think going blond first would be way easier. This takes so long, I'm only four months in and I'm growing so impatient. </div>
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A stylist at Ulta who was working the register said her clients who go grey say it's the worst year of their life. Really? I think the worst years of my life were the years my parents died and this past summer when I had my head surgery so I could wear my Baha hearing device. Going grey the worst year of my life? Bring it on, this is so fun!</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK56FvZQ2gPBbpDvdRD5stboAYgg3qEwwKMzNCslWiMQuoP6SZ-4lvMX0yFQYdhE1atjs8L-eAWz_yR-ANFfn83cChNELplkJU4ZzwxqathGcaCuNPH5s_9NIwFNfJ4lt0fL4bGj43yUVu/s1600/IMG_2084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="505" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK56FvZQ2gPBbpDvdRD5stboAYgg3qEwwKMzNCslWiMQuoP6SZ-4lvMX0yFQYdhE1atjs8L-eAWz_yR-ANFfn83cChNELplkJU4ZzwxqathGcaCuNPH5s_9NIwFNfJ4lt0fL4bGj43yUVu/s320/IMG_2084.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">After the highlights. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Humor during this time is super important.<br /></td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IHDYLPZ_XwMbUpIu1MwT7TiwZ5lKKiDbueZJ3pmoucA4HVjtQeMHw7aqLC4UCaxr8cNKvlIC3-nC4d2bqMab7M9z01zUP9Lq7TeH31qE9TxYMxTc2K5LN1Ja4aHX4sZL3dymDuclcoBa/s1600/IMG_2225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6IHDYLPZ_XwMbUpIu1MwT7TiwZ5lKKiDbueZJ3pmoucA4HVjtQeMHw7aqLC4UCaxr8cNKvlIC3-nC4d2bqMab7M9z01zUP9Lq7TeH31qE9TxYMxTc2K5LN1Ja4aHX4sZL3dymDuclcoBa/s1600/IMG_2225.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've questioned my decision, for several seconds at a time.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemFmFNlvMc2Olld6bL7pxYExzgWr6AOFbrILEBeSmfiNmsIpAhla0LEDIhF-0_o4DNNG1u5kMeuPtZDmrYzAhPodu_Oroos2zEXg14We7gbibXX-ZFCMIBvqlGgvkPMZCowLfD3kxizHW/s1600/IMG_2718+%25281%2529.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="360" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhemFmFNlvMc2Olld6bL7pxYExzgWr6AOFbrILEBeSmfiNmsIpAhla0LEDIhF-0_o4DNNG1u5kMeuPtZDmrYzAhPodu_Oroos2zEXg14We7gbibXX-ZFCMIBvqlGgvkPMZCowLfD3kxizHW/s320/IMG_2718+%25281%2529.PNG" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I've played with filters to imagine the end results.<br />Can I color my eyes grey too?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1VzIbLEspZcrGFApxbT_2C3iD3QaqiJN3TrHVI79sYHrDNYbJDYbjq927hRRCLpRGYtlOnBzvSewIRvAmQ9w7-8v5BPnflWbAVWf56jtWUUxkayZYq1WoFmrTCSmhnR3Zq9mwxbYf7mP/s1600/IMG_7840.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu1VzIbLEspZcrGFApxbT_2C3iD3QaqiJN3TrHVI79sYHrDNYbJDYbjq927hRRCLpRGYtlOnBzvSewIRvAmQ9w7-8v5BPnflWbAVWf56jtWUUxkayZYq1WoFmrTCSmhnR3Zq9mwxbYf7mP/s320/IMG_7840.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Realized my 28th anniversary picture is going to be very different.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDybizc6Hm0U7n9Ta1GGIUNWtGlXb3N0z8loFRKaUGEElSxhOGIFrQoQAT3gKPCMbOd-Pb1DeJFaCqJ62ymxiHEGnQmFgxbL7bymxzEXigZ4OYTcaPkw8AN411MNtTqpL3hrprvcCmTxLt/s1600/IMG_9227.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDybizc6Hm0U7n9Ta1GGIUNWtGlXb3N0z8loFRKaUGEElSxhOGIFrQoQAT3gKPCMbOd-Pb1DeJFaCqJ62ymxiHEGnQmFgxbL7bymxzEXigZ4OYTcaPkw8AN411MNtTqpL3hrprvcCmTxLt/s320/IMG_9227.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Made peace with my past.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZCZ_golRGJrBPxtxk-etGGXLpRJ2Lkc8PhbTDiSI91n3kR-kDtl_-qOn3kQdCGq4Pkd6Y4sJqMDAR9lw92kWhkgLsWabaDqVgUdRkjiAq04Tf9aXZ9covVq3e_gWiN1BaNcWn5PluA3x/s1600/IMG_9460.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoZCZ_golRGJrBPxtxk-etGGXLpRJ2Lkc8PhbTDiSI91n3kR-kDtl_-qOn3kQdCGq4Pkd6Y4sJqMDAR9lw92kWhkgLsWabaDqVgUdRkjiAq04Tf9aXZ9covVq3e_gWiN1BaNcWn5PluA3x/s320/IMG_9460.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I know I'll be the only grey haired one in many photos.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOCmmDxsEUFnUwlzh1sYyQZa1bMShk46flFYeFnRXW5kQQ8CxynZcA9oJAtZsB5MB_pG_lT5YivK4pedTs6rJsA5ExNP1w7ylIFFT0MFWfLbmqZ_uz5aoYdh1eFLsjTMJEJMjD7p05Bti/s1600/IMG_6670.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="553" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMOCmmDxsEUFnUwlzh1sYyQZa1bMShk46flFYeFnRXW5kQQ8CxynZcA9oJAtZsB5MB_pG_lT5YivK4pedTs6rJsA5ExNP1w7ylIFFT0MFWfLbmqZ_uz5aoYdh1eFLsjTMJEJMjD7p05Bti/s320/IMG_6670.jpg" width="276" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yikes, look at that red hair!<br />If I can go thru getting a magnet put in my skull...</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIZungIdSHcBY5OM7rcFjrYpLgkCgbyGPVJyapX-7WFvkHiFH-Immz-ZYr8eVV9AP6qGYD9yHXqJRaqPTUOli-KfUFFXvkMG5TUl7ZAJXbEugu1dn-DBJg8yBWOOuPNan98MYwKGG4gxS/s1600/IMG_6717.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWIZungIdSHcBY5OM7rcFjrYpLgkCgbyGPVJyapX-7WFvkHiFH-Immz-ZYr8eVV9AP6qGYD9yHXqJRaqPTUOli-KfUFFXvkMG5TUl7ZAJXbEugu1dn-DBJg8yBWOOuPNan98MYwKGG4gxS/s320/IMG_6717.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...and waiting for this to grow out,<br />I can do this!</td></tr>
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A young friend of mine showed me an app on her phone called Show AI. It's designed for blind people to get a verbal readout of a photo or barcode. You can take a selfie and it tells you how old you look, what color your hair is and what mood you are displaying. It didn't see all my grey hairs under the brown, and it tagged me as more than a decade younger than I really am. I'm not using the app ever again, I'm going with this! </div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMdlWl9YPOhHBUkY9MfeMzk4NwJPVQeCVbKKkem3INzvnkJp8lD2_8p7tQChRVvmRco780hLSyKxqbGWimm9dQaCA1fy5T3e7fLCTQ_S63HfRT1XSaqKzCtS8jRaLgwmoIWoQD7dZPHu3/s1600/IMG_2739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="980" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRMdlWl9YPOhHBUkY9MfeMzk4NwJPVQeCVbKKkem3INzvnkJp8lD2_8p7tQChRVvmRco780hLSyKxqbGWimm9dQaCA1fy5T3e7fLCTQ_S63HfRT1XSaqKzCtS8jRaLgwmoIWoQD7dZPHu3/s320/IMG_2739.jpg" width="195" /></a><br />
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45 (?) year old woman with brown hair (going grey) looking happy.</div>
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That about sums it up for this year.</div>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-22425462094571332142019-01-22T14:25:00.005-08:002019-01-22T15:32:47.703-08:00While there's still pepper in my salt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrVvjEnmr289cVNy-gbJ4zBLqYLOfuLbwEGTyC9QA9WH0fjBeWIq2HjkIoaMsgebIpx6V041TJNluwfBwhU3qO1sZtVMkvhJ8DMFArtTEpagn7iNuPI_1z1KJPv1bwojN0utfL9oPzzZp/s1600/IMG_2206.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1005" data-original-width="856" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibrVvjEnmr289cVNy-gbJ4zBLqYLOfuLbwEGTyC9QA9WH0fjBeWIq2HjkIoaMsgebIpx6V041TJNluwfBwhU3qO1sZtVMkvhJ8DMFArtTEpagn7iNuPI_1z1KJPv1bwojN0utfL9oPzzZp/s320/IMG_2206.jpg" width="272" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hair, it grows on you!</td></tr>
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When it comes to my hair, I'm neither a trend setter nor a stick-in-the-mud. While there have been moments when I chopped it all off and went from long to super short, typically I'm not too daring or out there, and definitely not a person to plunk down wads of cash to get a certain look. I've always thought the same about hair as I do nails, it's this dead stuff that comes out of our bodies, do I really want it to be the center of my universe?<br />
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Well, I can now admit that my hair has become the center of my universe. It's practically all I think about, Google about, Pinterest and YouTube about. And not just hair, but grey hair. Yes, I have decided to jump off the diving board of vanity and dive head first into the latest craze, going grey.<br />
<br />
When I was 15 years old, a friend saw and yanked a half grey, half brown hair off my head. That wasn't the beginning of my ascent into a head full of grey, it was just a weird anomaly. I can't really say when I started to really notice the silver hairs peeking through the browns, probably in my mid-to-late-thirties? I started covering the nasty intruders with Natural Instincts, because it's perfectly instinctive to color up grey hair, isn't it? While it may be instinctive, it's not natural, and I was never good at all with the coloring process. Hair color on the walls, hair color on the floor, hair color on the toilet seat, it seemed the color went everywhere it wasn't supposed to. I'd have the best intentions of just covering the roots like the instructions recommend, but once I got that pair of cheap plastic gloves on my hands and the chemicals filled the bathroom, I would just say forget this and I'd empty all the contents all over my head. And the floor, and the walls and the toilet.<br />
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This has gone on for years, except for the times my friend and sometimes stylist, who is really good with color, would convince me to get my color done by someone who knows better than to get it all over the walls. This involved lots of time sitting in the salon, piles and piles of foil pieces, time under the dryer, more sitting, and after feeling like a drowned rat, emerging from the salon with lovely color. And a depleted budget. But what cute color!<br />
<br />
Until it grew back.<br />
<br />
And hair never grows faster than when you love the cut or you love the color. If you love both, don't blink because hair then goes into speed growing mode, and before you can say "Oh this color? It's just kissed by the sun" those grey roots start rearing their ugliness and ruining whatever social event you've got planned that involves showing your head.<br />
<br />
So then comes the decision, do I go back and get more professionally done color, or do I slink into the aisle of the store and try to pick out the color that comes within hopefully ten shades of what my hair color was when I was five. Buy the box, hope it looks halfway OK, undo all the work done with foils by the expert, more drips on the floor, and walls and toilet. I probably went with the at-home process 95% of the time.<br />
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I had no intension of changing the status quo. In fact, when I picked out the color of my Baha hearing device that I wear attached my head, my choices were grey, blond, black, brown and reddish brown. I went with reddish brown, because that's my hair color, right? When I exchanged one of them for a smaller model, the audiologist chose black without asking me, and commented that black goes with everything. Little did I know how much I would appreciate her choice.<br />
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A few months ago a friend we had known in Tahoe posted on Instagram that she was "ditching the dye, going grey." I was shocked! Just like I was shocked that another friend from Tahoe had done the same thing the year before. My thought was, "More power to you sisters, but no way, not for me!"<br />
I sort of put off the decision by saying "Maybe I'll go grey when I'm sixty."<br />
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After getting my hair colored at the salon in summer, and seeing how fast the grey came back, especially at my temples, and following it up with a bad box color that seemed to just look flat and blah, I started seriously rethinking my no-way-on-the-grey. I did one more box color which according to the receipt was November 9, 2018. About a month later I decided for sure to let my roots come in and see what happens.<br />
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What is happening is not what I expected. I assumed I was completely grey all over. I'm not, and the color of my roots in back is cracking me up. Dark brown, a color of hair I associate with my Mom as a young woman. Brunette, without a hint of warmth. It's totally neutral, and if it comes in like this I may have to rethink half of my wardrobe.<br />
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I had some highlights put in to help with the dreaded "line of demarcation." I sort of wish I had bitten the bullet and just gone without this step, but the lighter color is helping me get used to the bigger changes ahead. A friend of ours who is very daring with her tresses, whose hair may or may not have been pink just a few weeks ago, saw my hair and said she loved the "Ombre Look." I'm going to close my eyes and accept that as a compliment.<br />
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As much as I didn't want my hair to grow fast after a coloring, either from a box or the salon, it's the opposite now. I want my roots to grow, I want more grey, more natural color to see what I've been covering up all these years. If I believed it would help, I'd take hair growth supplements. But this is a time for good old fashioned patience, something I am in short supply of. If only I had as much patience as I have grey hair.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc21Z_-gVyLIfNw9gA7GP0jGTJYZqv1eUJwM-JKIe7R_fjoZJaUm9G8WCPDEKoULxJc9fNxwiiQ4G7SMkNe60mATIGAONkpyisBGWFeCgPuGTalxoC2vxwqMokHYgvriXzsoYEp3C-kVPv/s1600/IMG_7231.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc21Z_-gVyLIfNw9gA7GP0jGTJYZqv1eUJwM-JKIe7R_fjoZJaUm9G8WCPDEKoULxJc9fNxwiiQ4G7SMkNe60mATIGAONkpyisBGWFeCgPuGTalxoC2vxwqMokHYgvriXzsoYEp3C-kVPv/s320/IMG_7231.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Summer convention, grey is peeking out!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFFLlAYxpmPJGvHWmvsIwJaeW0A65Uzgfrtbs5uZ6yHHJXzV7Hw7e0eXvpmPFQAC72ZzQlZB8u3_jt1CCkeeh1RiZ9wpwUz-Jrvz9tvoBVnEv_4m80XwmXdVnrEkiRSlI5i5ZNm7-Lfp5/s1600/IMG_7381.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="579" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeFFLlAYxpmPJGvHWmvsIwJaeW0A65Uzgfrtbs5uZ6yHHJXzV7Hw7e0eXvpmPFQAC72ZzQlZB8u3_jt1CCkeeh1RiZ9wpwUz-Jrvz9tvoBVnEv_4m80XwmXdVnrEkiRSlI5i5ZNm7-Lfp5/s320/IMG_7381.jpg" width="289" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Plunked down some money to get it colored right.<br />
But it grew. Stupid roots, stop growing!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCap2VHd2_c2cfyPWtgOTJI5MQWF_LtY8TXLTwkEklkb3z7TGa3xhAkmgraCc5koF86UBoOysolcL2ZdJ7mRPllCaCwtgbNxVkRCbSjm_Xc0Kn4OjHDSag1pmgL6PhxuFUi0HvJGPS-G1/s1600/IMG_9759.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="562" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWCap2VHd2_c2cfyPWtgOTJI5MQWF_LtY8TXLTwkEklkb3z7TGa3xhAkmgraCc5koF86UBoOysolcL2ZdJ7mRPllCaCwtgbNxVkRCbSjm_Xc0Kn4OjHDSag1pmgL6PhxuFUi0HvJGPS-G1/s320/IMG_9759.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So I box colored it again. Cheaper, but blah.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbgjEgJbr3JPTnsLvKNj4v93SkPu2VFla8loqyc1Sz9VQO8ukdT0stlbL1SR0_nvardjEShxFmMFk_9ywgzInmi3TzMqO2RHUIfLB1XcX99EHyB9R5R_FPJQQKW1l0sZU629RcohPxBBs/s1600/IMG_1711.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqbgjEgJbr3JPTnsLvKNj4v93SkPu2VFla8loqyc1Sz9VQO8ukdT0stlbL1SR0_nvardjEShxFmMFk_9ywgzInmi3TzMqO2RHUIfLB1XcX99EHyB9R5R_FPJQQKW1l0sZU629RcohPxBBs/s320/IMG_1711.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The day I decided to ditch the dye.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XqpHZyhZtrR7waxQFWA7OHTHXCA-slvsARY3nkB0wzcUo9UyUgyr_4CtV5EX0pqmRChxmk7osC3PtOGPq6FR2WXJtO7kxwxOWwRm-64RboiDoP8HJ6dXwyHvELmq-t_L3uNPO_T45Yrl/s1600/IMG_2084.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-size: 12.8px; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="505" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2XqpHZyhZtrR7waxQFWA7OHTHXCA-slvsARY3nkB0wzcUo9UyUgyr_4CtV5EX0pqmRChxmk7osC3PtOGPq6FR2WXJtO7kxwxOWwRm-64RboiDoP8HJ6dXwyHvELmq-t_L3uNPO_T45Yrl/s320/IMG_2084.jpg" width="252" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Faded and dark auburn/brown, blond highlights, grey roots, dark roots<br />
I can't wait to find out who I am.<br />
To Pixie or Not to Pixie, That is the Question.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypvoWko0bN7PdeROFNmRyhRNoKmT6UC96RMRr_yyUWcW0evfLQuFzT6URruBc1jns_oar81VjHvXGj-35phEVA6NI_-1LV801UwxUd4nu7ilLe5I-BpJDVq8Ieb_OMl9pMKj8FTGBWj3T/s1600/IMG_2100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgypvoWko0bN7PdeROFNmRyhRNoKmT6UC96RMRr_yyUWcW0evfLQuFzT6URruBc1jns_oar81VjHvXGj-35phEVA6NI_-1LV801UwxUd4nu7ilLe5I-BpJDVq8Ieb_OMl9pMKj8FTGBWj3T/s320/IMG_2100.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeling pretty good about the future.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-25571078238457133052019-01-08T11:59:00.001-08:002019-01-18T19:57:44.357-08:00A bear hat for Ernst and a bear hat for Ernest <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Using patterns from <a href="http://www.repeatcrafterme.com/">Repeat Crafter Me</a>, I've crocheted my fair share of animal hats over the past few years. Bears, pigs, foxes, puppy dogs and monkeys, in the end they are fun to make, even if the feature placement causes me to tear my hair out. Where to put that nose? Are the eyes crooked? Will the ears flop down or stand upright, or worse yet, will one ear be stubborn and make the whole thing look whacky? A lot of worries over a hat, I"ll admit, but they seem to stare at me wanting to be perfect.<br />
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When my husband requested a hat he could wear to <a href="https://www.sacrepublicfc.com/">Sacramento Republic FC</a> soccer games, a bear hat to be exact, I figured I wouldn't stress too much. This hat would be all in the family, super easy! We went to the yarn aisle at our local <a href="https://www.joann.com/needle-arts/">Joann Fabrics</a> together, and he decided on a brown multi-colored yarn I'd used before. It's always nice to use up yarn that's lying around. He chose the accent color (didn't have that color lying around) and we talked about the general look. Cute but not silly. Got it.<br />
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I used the basic pattern from t<a href="http://www.repeatcrafterme.com/2014/01/crochet-dalmatian-dog-pattern.html">he dog hat</a> on Repeat Crafter Me, but decided to finally branch out and make my own design for the face of the bear hat. I wanted a big white area on the face so the black nose would stand out, plus it would give me a place to sew on a smile with the burgundy yarn And then I got the grand idea, because the ears always give me such stress, to make some pom pom ears. They would be so cute, and would tie in all the colors of the hat, the brown and white and burgundy, all in a happy little pair of puff balls right on the top. You know, just like real California Brown Bears have.<br />
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I made the hat while working my night shift job, taking care to do my work first and foremost of course. But since the goal of this job is first and foremost to not fall asleep, crocheting is allowed. The puff balls, or rather pom poms, turned out <strike>so cute</strike> fierce and menacing looking, ready to strike fear into the opposing team's fan base. I took a picture of what the finished hat was going to look like, for approval from the guy who is willing to wear a crocheted bear hat in public.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-aN2WiIgh8ds/XDUBGGK6KEI/AAAAAAAAMiY/LMnRFlIXGOoX3dyAlhs6T5W7udtyYR4DQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">POM! POM!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The reaction? Tepid, most certainly tepid. "What's with the ears? Those don't look like real bear ears." Hate to tell you this, but that's not a real bear, Buster. I was crushed. My Pom Poms got a big No No from the Big Bear, and that's unbearable. But I pushed through the pain, and made him some boring old true-to-life bear ears fit for a Grizzly.<br />
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But I had those pom poms left. What's an animal hat maker to do?<br />
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Enter Ernest. Not Ernst, that's my husband's name. We now had an Ernest with two E's on his way, and I saw my perfect opportunity to palm my pom poms off on the new kid!<br />
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Ernest was the expected baby of a new couple in our congregation. Without giving any details, I'll just say they just moved here, were very brave in the country they just emigrated from and put themselves at risk under a regime that has made life miserable for many in the last few years. There, that's all I'm saying, besides that they are cute and she was so hardly showing when I first met her I kept accidentally touching her pregnant tummy as I tried to not botch her language too much. She didn't make me feel dumb about either the tummy bumping or the language botching. I loved her right away. When my husband heard of their bravery and then when he heard they were planning on naming their baby Ernest, he was positively smitten. It doesn't matter to him the baby's name was chosen before they arrived here, or that there is an extra E in the name, Ernst was very excited to meet baby Ernest.<br />
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He told the couple he would come to the hospital when the baby was coming if they wanted, and they said yes. Don't know if they were aware of this man's fear of birth, small detail. The plan was the baby's two aunts would be there for most of the interpreting, and Ernst for if anything major went wrong.<br />
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We got the text on New Year's Day that mom was in labor since 4:30 am and that they were now at the hospital. Wow, this was amazing, a baby coming on the first day of the year, a gorgeous blue sky day when we both had nothing going on whatsoever.<br />
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It was a pretty amazing experience! I kept wondering what my role there was, it turned out to be chief photographer of a lovely and beautiful birth. The peace and love and calmness and serenity between mommy and daddy was almost more of a miracle than the birth itself. Ernest was here, he was healthy, everything was beautiful. What a way to start 2019.<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-DtjQ405no5k/XDUAe_OQK_I/AAAAAAAAMhY/wUF83Rb2DughIrRQZh3nJ6pBGg97LavzQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A hat for Ernest.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2RTzIlnp1hk/XDUAhxfgRSI/AAAAAAAAMhc/MT1GI8MZPKUTsrdmSaKO1LaYKy2tQF9fACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Welcome to California, little guy!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-bhiKch3KxpY/XDUAk_qOhcI/AAAAAAAAMhg/p0V-ZeGCUqYFXcu-m7NZ0Yr4P7e0iSIlACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">You are in good hands.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-A_xKr7LqP2o/XDUAoXNJ5BI/AAAAAAAAMho/EY6SM8WhxCM7mNZXtgCuiYKuBgrQTmn9ACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No worries.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UoRy8LjHNTc/XDUArD-QZbI/AAAAAAAAMhs/3y6In06ims89ABxYfj2_xjoy7KIVT5UQACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Yep, smile away!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hRruoyMZnjA/XDUAs_KwKmI/AAAAAAAAMhw/X8D3clWgv6EocDaNsrERsl2aGN-2B4fDgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Your mommy was amazing before, during and after.<br />
Daddy too.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-4wXNyXbIJCs/XDUAumKdDSI/AAAAAAAAMh0/Ut8h88xiQ_0PwEv4IUJQ6KJLeQT_TMQ2QCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ernest :) Boy</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-eV8cwUebg4Q/XDUAwqoDeHI/AAAAAAAAMh8/Np9hjiT_WtkY4l4gMMp4UmJdVG8leEhNgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ernest and Ernst.<br />
Ernst and Ernest.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-0fYFXjG-Kmw/XDUAypg0EWI/AAAAAAAAMiE/uCuK7tCN76gQuIUzc9Vqj_SRTX04Ok62ACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Should I crochet some bear booties?</td></tr>
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</div>
Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-15065610174778974802018-12-14T11:29:00.006-08:002018-12-14T14:12:52.909-08:00No-Waste November? Let’s talk trash!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We may need a smaller can.</td></tr>
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We've been eating a whole-food, plant-based, low-sodium, minimally-processed and no-oils diet for so long now, it's become second nature. Chop an onion and saute it in a bit of low-sodium vegetable broth, add some garlic...ya da ya da...and pretty soon we have dinner and leftovers that last at least through lunch tomorrow and possible dinner tomorrow night. </div>
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This way of cooking makes me feel good physically and deep down good inside too. In our quest to save money too, we buy lots of unprocessed fresh fruits and vegetables, along with a good amount of frozen foods, canned goods and depending on my schedule, pre-chopped vegetables from Trader Joe's. I limit myself on pre-processed fruit, because I'm just never <i>that</i> busy. But bags and bags of produce enter our house each week. And all those bags eventually make it into our trash.</div>
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Many times after a marathon cooking stint, I would be surprised how much trash I had just thrown into the kitchen trash. Of course the recyclables went where they belonged, the compostables went in the garden, and the better compostables like potato and carrot peels went into special batches of dog food for our Molly girl. But the one-time-use only bags and cartons were the ones that bothered me. The frozen corn bags, the clear plastic produce bags that I would never manage to save and either reuse or bring back to the bin at the store. Each week we filled up our trash can with lots of unrecyclable plastic that was going straight to the landfill. And I'm sure if you asked the land, if it could talk, it would ask that we stop trying to fill it. Ditto with the oceans.</div>
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So loving a good food challenge, we decided to use November 2018 as a test ground for a zero waste month. We dubbed the month No Waste November, knowing we were shooting for more of a Low Waste goal. If I have a catchy title, I can do just about anything in a month, so the end of October had me using up as much of the food we had in single-use containers. These items were mostly the frozen vegetables and fruits in the freezer, and bags of items such as nuts, flour and dried fruits. I invested in reusable mesh produce bags from the grocery store and started washing out and saving plastic produce bags from the store. I also got a few wax coated food covers from Trader Joe's. These would be in addition to the washable plastic covers I had from GladWare, the ones that look like something your grandmother wore at the beauty parlor. I've never been one to fight with plastic wrap, it always wins.</div>
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First shopping trip? Not Trader Joe's, where the one-use plastic bags are king. No, I headed straight to Sprouts Market with my reusable mesh bags. I marched into the produce department and started filling up mesh bags. And then quickly realized I was going to need more bags. I think I'm at nine now, we could probably use 12. I did start just throwing similar things in one bag, like herbs and smaller vegetable bunches such as radishes. I bet the cashiers mumble under their breath at shoppers who do this, but there is only so much mesh I want to mess with. </div>
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We had a great month of dried bean soups, vegetable soup, more dried bean soups, followed up with some more soup. Because the month of No Waste was also the month of No Oven, the off button on our oven decided to quit, so roasting, baking and casseroles were out of the question. Soup for days and days and days. </div>
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We are only two people, but we eat home-cooked meals probably 95% of the time. That makes one tall kitchen can of trash each week. With really watching the one-time use plastic, we reduced this to only one can for the whole month. It felt so odd to throw away that tall kitchen bag with so little trash in it, that I started to just up-end it into the outside bin and reuse the bag. There was no food trash in it to speak of, so it wasn't even smelly. Amazing results. This little experiment has made me think twice about the packaging of even the healthful foods we purchase, and whether there is an alternative means to buy that same product.</div>
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How were the cost-savings? Our shopping habits definitely changed, but we were not attempting to save money, just plastic. But nonetheless, money-wise we did pretty well. Minus the days we went to Southern California for a get-away, our average food costs were $9.88 per day. Not quite as good as the $6.66 all-time record from <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&blogID=296461265912420148#editor/target=post;postID=4221485353812084793;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=2;src=postname">eating at the 99 Cent Store </a>for one month, but not too shabby either. </div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG-pIEAMHVJ0ifJClBE4cw2LPNPq11k4czHVrNQo2njLMBdpM3T91xibh75Wu1MJ2u0h0PSepe037eFRh2gViv_fF3zqN5C-loPF8T4e4yDtyDKGPn-C6O7doBuGWM44em0_EaGq5GmSPF/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wax lined food covers.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="400" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-_kgytHpHzCc/XBQESpHIDGI/AAAAAAAAMfw/1_ZY_hiH9F0KkI6qFfPxzkBlMzZfX-YTwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="300"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My only complaint is that they're opaque.<br>
Opaque, yet so charming.<br>
It made me feel like our food in the fridge had all turned Amish on us. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2MG8RQUk6Oc/XBQEUr4UY8I/AAAAAAAAMf0/mhTmTN1dVzk6v1ZO4nsxZQ3oe_4-sgRQQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ultimate in packaged foods. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-WbnNTuOSX2Y/XBQEYyaWWqI/AAAAAAAAMf8/1g52Hw7kqagYXrypWdeGhBTYx7NAvUV8gCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Recyclable, but not really reusable.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-t2uIRhowYxo/XBQEbfIfKPI/AAAAAAAAMgA/f4cwvzbpabMhKSbiKWKZ5MagCZ7pu-hHQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Not recyclable, but reusable.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-xCwmf0Ijmvo/XBQEeVbBL-I/AAAAAAAAMgE/D0QaN-qopAM4uwJlVJXqxAj_qOOQK-X_ACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Only good for one use.<br>
Unless we took it on the dog's walk. Hmm.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-MdrUep6madg/XBQEgulaYUI/AAAAAAAAMgI/Vv7Qp8SdpJYQF5cw5qMlO0ZQfEgnFMbeACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Such "apeeling" packaging!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-UC0WJ3tq0n8/XBQEixxhsPI/AAAAAAAAMgM/A_8Sz1qaf3QKWYqjfXyiAwGCcUh9gx23gCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jar salads, they fit right in last month.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hDqwY7xnTj4/XBQEkecuUxI/AAAAAAAAMgQ/tRIw84jELoYt6gtyP27ZY5grE3MBh6ZwQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320"></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No plastic here, fruit filling in for fresh flowers.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-70470653001183562392018-11-25T11:10:00.001-08:002018-11-25T21:43:49.367-08:00Getaway Guilt<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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The morning of November 8th started off dry and breezy and much too warm for a November day. Too dry, too warm, and that breeze turned into quite a windy morning. An icky wind. A wind that had me thinking "this is one of those days when something really bad could happen in California."</div>
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Unfortunately I was right, and soon I learned that the town of Paradise, north of Sacramento, was pretty much wiped out by the worst fire in California history. The numbers of dead and/or missing are hard to fathom, as are the over 12,000 homes burned. I didn't know anyone there, but it's one of those places that makes you smile when someone claims from that town. Paradise - it must have been fun to write that down as a return address.</div>
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The day of the fire and the next, the skies in Sacramento became horribly smoky. Then Saturday it got downright scary. The streets looked foggy, but it was lung-burning and eye-tearing smoke. I saw a person with a full face respirator in the parking lot of Trader Joe's, and someone inside had a smoke mask. I thought they were being a bit dramatic, then I saw when I got home the air quality was in the hazardous range, all groups were advised to stay indoors. Suddenly that carton of soy milk didn't seem that important, I made a mental note to add smoke masks to our Go Bag kits.</div>
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The next few days were just a blur of depressing news, and more smoke. We had an inversion layer and the stuff would not budge from the skies, besides the fact that the Camp Fire to the north continued to rage. The stories of the evacuation were trickling out, and it sounded apocalyptic. My mood was matching the dreary skies. But we had a trip planned to Southern California, and I was looking forward to getting away. With the house cleaned for the dog sitters, we caught our early morning flight to my husband's conference in Irvine.</div>
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Knowing that the fires in Malibu were still active, I didn't expect to see great improvement in the air quality, but a change of scenery was due. I love staying in hotels, especially for my husband's conferences. Sleeping in, binge watching decorating shows, not making the bed, it's all good. The skies leaving Sacramento a week after the fire were still so bad, I'm surprised our flight wasn't cancelled. But oh was it nice to lift above that layer of smoke and fly away from hazardous air that was keeping us inside. The air in Long Beach was blue and it smelled fresh and lovely. I felt super guilty for enjoying the clean air, I wished I could turn a fan on and send it up north. The air back home was cancelling event after event, the local school district closed for a day, along with my husband's district and every other one in the area, including all the college campuses. I can't remember another disaster, except for maybe the 1989 earthquake, that was such a gut punch to Northern California in so many ways.</div>
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After our short stay in Irvine, we took a ferry to Catalina Island to catch up with an old friend from our days in South Lake Tahoe. It had been a long time since we had seen Laurel, a very long time. Ernst gave the talk that Sunday for the little English group, and we got to sleep in the equally small Kingdom Hall on a Murphy bed in the back room. We had breakfast each morning at the hotel where our friends live and work, so between the free digs and the free food, we only had to pay for the ferry ride. Our three nights on Catalina were a soothing balm for us, heart, mind and body. And lungs.</div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-2-2c7ezAkpE/W_rx9M6hAFI/AAAAAAAAMc8/tBWbBV7nUyUGfOqvsPk_XgPR9c4PMDhjACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So long, Sacramento.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-JwajIqyrMvw/W_rx-89HNCI/AAAAAAAAMdA/aTWLpDC1l3YzjXxPEzFNLzwYey5sn3wFgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello SoCal.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ufyMd9ilCjM/W_ryBUUhSkI/AAAAAAAAMdE/QPCEUwl6_FQ74PrJ74WB-iNXW0et-wU1QCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was in the mood for some thrift store shopping!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-g5NGY4ypg7w/W_ryD9XSNdI/AAAAAAAAMdI/fYL-VSS9pv0AfTrv_QJUHVpLrMo4mn2sQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">And spicy Korean food.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Irvine streets are completely empty of walkers.<br />
Except me. </td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ZbM-sO3T3g4/W_ryIhjSpSI/AAAAAAAAMdQ/kpTNYm2NHJA2iLIcf34xNgWE3aa9j9SSgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Great thrift store in cute Old Town Orange.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-7d-xIF-HULM/W_ryLDEp9VI/AAAAAAAAMdU/0CDF8JAkeToaY8KaZD-eD70VqUDkCnJGwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meh, the Beyond Burger tasted like meat.<br />
I'm over meat.<br />
Give me a lentil burger any day.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-w4C_JlTn76w/W_ryNQDjGeI/AAAAAAAAMdY/9-8CoO91oDY2vVY_wvLnTv-L7mM3-sJywCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Orange outfit!<br />
Rather, my outfit from Orange.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdjThAZXVkfN1GdIdiTzPiBQNimgk2CmV33PwfaxDI4jl9VgFOFzTxnb4e7MSazeorgv8bujCnTNdcSLj-w1feGGiHY20h8p7Dzt-Kho3QzACFkDwDST3SM9qn0D3bBwBG7TvPaiZmFx8V/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Catalina!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XPmoZ4HUjIo/W_rySv3o_pI/AAAAAAAAMdo/cGrukrOzEwclQ6iwHRlyulRxxnxLZM7SACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Laurel!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-afLfEaVgz2E/W_ryYTsB1SI/AAAAAAAAMd0/g-2F-0FPjb0pQPimj9YhaKoTo7_LnwQRgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Prettiest mini-golf course ever.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-IIqWUHxS2DU/W_ryeZJ4O5I/AAAAAAAAMeI/mX_i9DR2xC8_V3B1Y5JSCUlPKPLFOVFAwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Adorable harbor!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-cP8UVDOtARU/W_rygtnV0II/AAAAAAAAMeU/SYFkJJG4chg2KupDD2hjc5S57-P83B1SwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Golf carts - it's how people get around the town of Avalon.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-5fL_XFDrhDg/W_ryi3dIPiI/AAAAAAAAMeY/kuQVKTyUJJ0lNDc8wBJIHdxqQbgEsE-rACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tiny hall!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-hY_ttqMV5EE/W_rynS4zsrI/AAAAAAAAMeg/GMHgCzdfrlU7406KnngBJpFkgmqwUrf6wCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">These fish work at Laurel's hotel.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ghYikScqzyo/W_rypyr6UhI/AAAAAAAAMeo/HzMZekESICclZwJZ2SZwfENC-GLcngQEACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We love conferences!</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-zWfAPbx6fZg/W_rysGE3NJI/AAAAAAAAMes/yAO158QIWRUAYuYmled-enor0-zwPVEBwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">"This side makes my bill look smaller."</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NTVtchmTfSg/W_ryuk5RUtI/AAAAAAAAMew/Bd5nWxBtPyQpG63ZSMTQi2T8xR0vb5K0ACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Good-bye Avalon.</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-rAHXyP_YYvI/W_rywnZSzdI/AAAAAAAAMe0/kD4UUmDFaLk9TbNhK3TqnqKWh-Fm2a4RgCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hello Molly!</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-33845740001030054322018-11-06T12:10:00.001-08:002018-11-06T12:10:20.928-08:00Bag Buddies, my new fabric friends<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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With several craft fairs under my belt, I'm finally getting the hang of it. But it took a mad scramble to make a completely new product to get me back in the game.</div>
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The craft fair I've had the most success with, hands down, is the one at the <a href="https://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2014/12/blog-post.html">Sierra 2 Center</a> in the Curtis Park area of Sacramento. My upcycled rag quilts have a target audience: Environmentally-conscious shoppers, <i>not</i> in the demographic that is frantically trying to downsize, and some disposable income doesn't hurt either. I've done two craft fairs at the Sierra 2 Center, and they were both very happifying to this rag quilt maker.</div>
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One year I couldn't make the Curtis Park fair because of my brother-in-law's wedding. Another year, after paying the sign-up fee, I decided the flyer was too Christmasy, so I bowed out. The flyers since then have been much more inclusive to those who don't celebrate the holidays, so I take that loss of money as a win. Last December, even with a <a href="https://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2017/12/one-sick-puppy.html">horrible emergency regarding our dog's health </a>and a late start to the day, the good folks of Curtis Park came through for me and made for a successful fair. </div>
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This year I couldn't participate because of a work conflict. So I decided to finally give the <a href="http://daviscraftandvintagefair.com/">Davis Craft and Vintage Fair</a> a try. It's got several things going for it - namely a start time that isn't at an ungodly hour, plus it's on a Sunday, which works much better for me. It's outside, so weather is a factor, but hey, some cold blustery weather is good for quilt selling, right?</div>
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Welcome to November 2018, which saw the temperature topping 80 degrees this last Sunday! Did I get a lot of looks at my quilts? Yes. Did anyone want to buy one on a day that had me peeling off layers before 9 am? Nope. No quilts were sold. Boo.</div>
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But my late blitz of making about 60 "Bag Buddies" to diversify my product line was successful. Not only are they super fun to make, I used up some of the fabric that just wasn't finding a place into any of my quilts. Yeah for Bag Buddies!! They will be a part of future line ups. I'll try again in Davis on the first Sunday in December. Maybe the temperature will dip below 65 that day, and someone will feel the urge to buy a cozy and warm upcycled lap throw. If not, move over quilts, I'm befriending these little squares of joy.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-NKiVl_ComnI/W-BlGimiotI/AAAAAAAAMbk/NaoPWzXTB9Q4mUKdFn6EpUx0ZUY7OjbpACHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Put them on your luggage handles.<br />Your suitcase will be the envy of the luggage carousal. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-XjivKTCc_64/W-BlJuKuorI/AAAAAAAAMbo/1LTZIQWuLaoLmwdnqInvIVWbDicmt8cSwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">They are reversible. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgpdHpz-OpDxZGKaJD97YZU4b4FbZjadmsARBT6EeC719eU3JqAf9n8yQ_QGniIVm0N-llL3r9HcEOLZD2yxz9R_3CvvAqje9fWp1Upwurpljy29rKPERQzzcL4I9M4KkciSqN9yQSsAPsH/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No, they're not pot holders.<br />They are buddies for your bag.<br />And they are incredibly fun to make.</td></tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-i4bbcf14Meg/W-BlPUYV24I/AAAAAAAAMbw/EEIthzDMwj4kRHLb9p02FTQHSNWv2UbzwCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My hats are even jealous. </td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7slQoS2cvEURYwf6S5RcqDZlmsWRCzGOBcHhvkhjevrKxqgp69FWOR2dtCAOxDHFp9On1r_HTOp9qJSsU77zg39xBjJLh3rD95JGM6HytNVknP07o6sTn9qEVc9lWLUWUgslzvj-QHLM1/" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The quilts are getting nervous!</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img alt="" height="320" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-ltw7a1Hc8QU/W-BlUkXRp6I/AAAAAAAAMb4/4fxOkvICcYcpr72judAzJdzCPYceuhOtQCHMYCw/%255BUNSET%255D" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bag Buddies, they're stacking up!</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-50887149328689951022018-10-15T10:58:00.001-07:002019-01-18T19:58:11.418-08:00Chilled to the bone!<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Last December I decided to do a big experiment with my diet, and I <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&blogID=296461265912420148#editor/target=post;postID=8638112352660182840;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=19;src=postname">went raw vegan for a year</a>. Well, make that nine months, because <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&blogID=296461265912420148#editor/target=post;postID=3616041095612213826;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=1;src=postname">our trip to France</a> sort of did it all in. Not to mention I never got back on the raw routine once we got back. You can't really be a raw vegan if you're eating cooked food, even just at times.<br />
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My reasons for stopping mostly involve the amount of time, money and mental energy for me to sustain a diet that has no cooked elements. I'm not saying it can't be done easily, cheaply and effortlessly, but I sure can't do it. I feel great eating this way, I have tons of energy and my body does backflips of appreciation for me everyday I cram it <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&blogID=296461265912420148#editor/target=post;postID=2264078684264484089;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=14;src=postname">full of fresh fruits and vegetables</a>. But it's Fall, and squash is calling me, soup is yelling my name and vegan stews - well, you can just imagine how they felt when I shunned them for salads. And since our food budget has been over-the-top expensive, something has to give, and it's going to have to be my raw vegan adventure.</div>
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If the time, energy and money weren't enough to get me to stop eating raw for now, there's an oddity about my body that's been making me crave hot and steaming bowls of cooked food. Years ago when I was dealing with some puzzling health issues, a doctor looked at my finger tips and said, "Do you know you have R<a href="https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/raynauds-disease/symptoms-causes/syc-20363571">aynaud's Disease</a>?" What in the world is that?</div>
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While it's a "dis-ease" I wouldn't call Raynaud's a disease - it's more like an annoying syndrome. It causes the fingers and toes to get super cold and numb in chilly weather, and they take a long time to warm up. It can cause pain and numbness in the extremities. Imagine how it was shoveling snow off my car window in South Lake Tahoe with this issue. Brrr, my body shudders in memory of those icy mornings. </div>
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For me the severity of Raynaud's comes and goes, but has it ever come on with a vengeance this Fall. Drinking a cold smoothie not only makes my fingers numb from holding the glass, but my entire core will be chilled for up to an hour after downing a healthy but cold green smoothie. It's not fun! I love smoothies and they set me up for a great day of energy. But a warm one would be so very gross and the cold ones make me feel like I'm on an excursion to the South Pole. Once I get chilled, it's hard to unchill. This morning after my pumpkin smoothie I tried to grab a few things out of the freezer to make our dog some food. Just touching the frozen food bags made my hands instantly ache with pain. My husband had to come help me get food out of the freezer like I had a fear of frost. Brrr. </div>
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Because of this flareup, just thinking about salads and smoothies makes me shiver. Hopefully this will pass, because I love them. But for now my body is demanding warmer foods that I can curl my little frozen fingers around. Hot foods. Cooked foods. Steaming foods. Foods you have to blow on before eating. Not raw, not cold. Cooked. My "Year of Living DangeRAWsly" is over. Pass the soup!</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chilly, not chili.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Chili, not chilly.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-36160410956122138262018-09-19T16:50:00.005-07:002018-09-21T07:32:05.659-07:00Plant-based in Paris? Vegan at Versailles? Bearly! <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Years ago I read about a family who stealthily kidnapped their neighbor's little garden duck decoration, and took it with them on their European vacation. Upon returning, the travelers presented both the missing duck and a photo album of all the places in Europe the duck had visited, to the delight of their neighbors.</div>
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Several years back I picked up the Jessica Bear keychain while visiting my husband's German relatives. I took one picture of the bear with a bigger bear, and that was it - Jessica Bear's Adventures began! We've photographed her at the Great Wall, on the canals of Venice, in Germany, Switzerland, Poland. I got in trouble attempting to take a photo of her in a Romanian grocery store (by a can of carp, which is spelled "crap" in Romanian.) She gets tucked away on most all of our adventures, and we have a great time finding places to pose her wherever we visit. It's great on my bad hair days, at least we get a good photo of <i>one</i> Jessica.</div>
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Our recent trip to France was no different. The Bear and I went for 10 days, my husband flew in for just the last five. I was first in Paris with friends in unusual but terrific accomodations - a houseboat on the Seine. Then my husband met our train with minutes to spare to head down to a lovely small city in the Tours region, Blois. More on those places later, but this post is all about food, because it's France and France equals food. </div>
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In 2016, we noticed an amazing change in both Germany and <a href="https://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?tab=wj&blogID=296461265912420148#editor/target=post;postID=4963642724548299630;onPublishedMenu=allposts;onClosedMenu=allposts;postNum=7;src=postname">Romania</a> when it came to finding vegan food. It was easy, <a href="http://allsquaredup.blogspot.com/2017/08/how-germany-has-changed.html">especially in Germany</a>. There were Soy Curls in the drugstores and most every restaurant had vegan options. It seemed to us that these meat-centric countries had done a complete flip cuisine-wise, much to our delight. But would France be the same way? </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jessica Bear, packed away with the other travel essentials.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Air France did not disappoint, I ordered a Hindi Vegan meal plan.<br />
Spicy garbanzo beans for breakfast? Why not?</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The houseboat held seven people and one bear very comfortably.</td></tr>
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Upon arriving and checking out our accommodations, our group hopped on the metro and headed into Paris. Before jet lag hit, hunger hit harder. The group was really hoping to find the perfect Parisian bistro to eat at, you know, the kind with outdoor tables, waiters in white aprons, that lovely ambience you think of when you think Paris restaurant. But hunger is a powerful force, so we begrudgingly settled for a place that advertised burgers. This vegan hoped for the best.</div>
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Not only were the burgers swooned over, and the charcuterie and cheese platter cleaned to the last crumb, this plant-based eater was extremely happy with her choice - a quinoa and veggie salad. I made entirely too many happy food noises as every last grain of quinoa and each bite of fruit and vegetable was consumed with culinary appreciation. Ah food, the French do food like no other. Why did I doubt?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A vegan salad at a burger restaurant? No problem!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Jet lag? Grin and bear it, with lots of caffeine, of course.</td></tr>
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I thought this would be a sign of things to come, that plant-based eating had arrived in Paris, but this was not the case. I had to be super creative in most of the restaurants we visited after that first night. It's not hard to explain what you need in a restaurant, if you speak the language. But with lots of facial expressions, pointing and with our trusty French speaking Blake helping out, I was able to get the point across - I want food with no meat, eggs or dairy please. </div>
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My biggest peeve about asking for a food change is when you're asking that the expensive part of the salad be left out, and they do just that, leave it out but then leave you with a tiny boring salad. Not in France, they get it - she doesn't want meat, but she does want vegetables. So they piled on the good stuff and I piled the good stuff in. The combos were delicious, the dressings were divine and I ate like a queen. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I did taste the French Onion Soup. Yum.<br />
But there it's just called Onion Soup for some strange reason.<br />
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On the way to and from the metro each day, we passed a very fancy Indian restaurant. My first thought was, I sure don't want to eat Indian food while in Paris. Oh how wrong I was. On the last night before we headed south, I was in the mood for something, but I couldn't quite decide what. My friends were debating going out for one last meal in Paris, but something was drawing me to that Indian restaurant. I had already (according to my phone) walked 8 miles that day and climbed 38 floors, but I summoned the energy to walk back for some Indian food takeout. </div>
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I found a worker who could understand my needs, I wanted some "take away food' with no meat, eggs or dairy. I was shown an item on the menu called Mixed Vegetables. Since I can't read French, I wasn't able to point to anything more interesting sounding, and I didn't want to be a difficult vegan, so I agreed to the Mixed Vegetables with rice. I was picturing some boring cauliflower and carrots, dry. What was I worried about, this was Indian food <i>in France! </i>Where would I get better Indian food outside of India? Their clientele was French, of course their food would be the best take ever on food from India with awesome French ingredients.</div>
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That was one awesome meal. I artfully arranged the out-of-this-world mix of vegetables in the yummiest and perfectly spiciest of sauces over the fluffiest of rices on a real plate and enjoyed it on the deck of the houseboat. It then occurred to me, Why was I passing up the ethnic restaurants in Paris for "real French food"? The French do food great, so they would do all the food great. Next trip to Paris, if there ever is one, will have me visiting Thai, Chinese, Vietnamese, Turkish and every other kind of restaurant I can find. Who cares if it's authentic? Who needs authentic when it's cooked in France?</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our fruit stand in Blois, France.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">One night they said the sorbet was vegan.<br />
The next night they said it had "a leeeetle milk."<br />
It was goooooooood.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Best. Melon. Ever.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cupcakes after the civil ceremony.<br />
They weren't vegan, but they were very pretty.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Wine is vegan.<br />
Very much so.</td></tr>
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The main purpose of our trip to France was to attend the wedding of my dear friend's son and his French Canadian fiancee. Her family owns a chateau in the Tours region, in a town near Blois. It was a lovely setting for a lovely couple on a lovely day. It was just lovely, if I haven't said so already. </div>
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The wedding was catered, but the groom's mom had the task of adding some items to the after-the-ceremony champagne serving hour, while the wedding party was taking photos. So she purchased lots of cheese, nuts, fruit and crackers along with some bread. Can you imagine the feelings of three Americans realizing they were arranging cheese boards for French people who really know cheese? Like intimately, since birth? We did the oh-so-chic presentation of a little bit of this, a little bit of that, artfully arranged in a sort of messy manner - the fashionable way you present appetizers in the US right now. It was quite the juxtaposition between our overflowing cheese and fruit platters and the sparse and precise hors d'oeuvres served by the catering company. All-you-can-eat American style verses French culinary conservatism. Our cheese boards were appreciated, but I also appreciated the different food approach as the evening continued. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Say cheese!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The ultimate in outdoor cafes.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">There was a vegan option, but we didn't get the memo.<br />
So we just traded with our seatmates.<br />
In the most elegant way, of course. </td></tr>
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When the dinner arrived, it became quite evident why French women don't get fat. The food, while very rich, was served in small portions. There was more white dinner plate showing than food. We switched and swapped food with those sitting next to us to get some vegan options. We tried to eat slowly. Pick up the fork, eat something, put down the fork. let the body know it just ate something, swallow, pause, repeat. </div>
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Everything was lovely. We started with a pear sorbet with pear brandy to cleanse the palate. After that came the dinner as described above. Then they took away the food plates and we were served the salad course. After that the five cheese course. I was expecting overflowing boards of cheese like we had created earlier. Silly me. A server approached each guest with a platter of five cheeses, and asked which were their choices. He or she was then served a small portion of the chosen cheeses. The guests ate them slowly, savoring each morsel with the bread on the table. (The Americans had already finished off all our bread with the main meal. Silly Americans.)</div>
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It was all so refined, and no one pushed themselves back from the table exclaiming they were stuffed to the gills and would never put another bite of food in their mouth ever again. The French, they have the whole eating thing down to a perfect art. </div>
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So if you're traveling in France as a plant-based eater, have no fear. While vegan menus aren't the norm, you'll have no problem getting your dietary needs satisfied, along with your tastebuds getting satisfied too. And when you find yourself in an Indian restaurant, just order the Mixed Vegetables With Rice. I'll happily accept your "merci" ahead of time. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Venture into non-French food.<br />
It's bound to be wonderful. </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bistro perfection.</td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-6312803597131339422018-09-02T09:43:00.003-07:002018-09-02T09:49:25.006-07:00From over my shoulder <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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My Mom had an amazing memory for what people wore to various events. Why? Because she loved clothes and was interested in them, the color more so than the cut or style. Someone would mention a Christmas party 25 years in the past, and my Mom would say "Mrs. Hickerson wore a blue dress and Fern had on a red blouse." (Some neighbors were always Mr. or Mrs. while others were on a first name basis, for no apparent reason.)</div>
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She didn't need photos to remember these details, photos weren't in color then anyway. The memories were burned in her brain, in all the hues of the rainbow. Remembering what people wore was her super power. She was awful at taking photos, my Dad was the one behind the camera in our house, but her photographic memory for fashion served her just as well as albums full of snapshots. </div>
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Taking photos used to involve remembering your camera, having enough film, having a flash attachment, taking a decent photo which you didn't know turned out until you had the film developed, not destroying the film before you got it developed, taking the film in for processing, waiting to see how they turned out, being disappointed and/or thrilled how they turned out, then deciding whether to keep/toss/put in an album/shove in a box, or some other completely inefficient way to store precious memories.</div>
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Nowadays taking photos just means having your phone, having enough battery power and enough storage on your phone to take photos. So we take A. Lot. Of. Photos. And then we take another because someone had their eyes closed. Oops, another one because I look fat in that one. Another one. And one more just in case I lost a few pounds in the seconds since we took that fat photo. So many photos. Too many photos. </div>
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Last week we went on a whale watching voyage to the Farallon Islands. Which meant seeing a boat load of people's behinds as they leaned over the edge taking photos of whales, who probably think they look fat in all the photos. "It's mostly water weight." I took so many videos trying to film these amazing birds flying just above the water line, that by the time we came back into the mouth of the Golden Gate, I was out of battery. The fog had lifted, the sun was out and it was such a magical moment on a gorgeous day of an amazing city built on hills. And I was upset I didn't have any juice left on my camera.</div>
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Then it occurred to me, Just look at the city. Look at the water. And the bridge and the hills and the sea gulls and the skyscrapers and the boats and the beautiful day. Instead of looking at it through my camera, I looked at it. It was fabulous. I won't forget that moment in time. Just me, Ernst in his Elmer Fudd that, the spray of the water from the boat and a memorable afternoon. I need to run out of battery power more often. </div>
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As I embark on another trip, I'm trying to get a major portion of photos off my phone. I downloaded them to my computer first, so if heaven forbid I delete a screenshot of Vegan Tofu Stew it isn't lost forever. Or one of the millions of photos I have of my irises? I can't lose any of them! Or the Pinterest haircut shots that never seem to translate into the haircut I really want - those cannot be lost. Because it took a lot of work to find that perfect search of "Messy Parisian bob with whispy bangs for slightly wavy hair but a really low hairline in back. Low maintenance. Pretty. Easy." I many never get that exact match again, so it must stay on my computer with all the other grand ideas I had for my hair. That's how the digital age works. This stuff is forever. </div>
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Goal for the next coming year? Stop taking so many photos, or at least stop letting them clog up my phone. My plan is this - each Sunday evening go through my camera and delete all dumb photos, useless screenshots, duplicates, triplicates, blurry pictures, pictures of my dog being cute, and of course all photos that make me look less than toned and in fabulous shape. Wait, let's be realistic here, I'm keeping all the cute dog photos.</div>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-296461265912420148.post-47539427737849343872018-08-20T15:39:00.000-07:002018-08-20T15:39:56.942-07:00It's all in the jeans<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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Not too long ago I was given an amazing pair of jeans. They fit me in all the right places, the pockets were the perfect size for my sturdy Swedish "background" and they were not distressed or torn or bleached or ragged in anyway. They were fresh off the denim mill and sewn into a shape I could wear with joy. </div>
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The only tiny problem was they were incredibly long. On this new kick of realizing quality is worth fighting for, I had them altered to fit my vertically challenged legs. Then, feeling all confident and happy with a great pair of jeans, I wore them to a work weekend in Chicago. I'm pretty sure they made it home, but I can't seem to find them anywhere. I tore apart my closet looking for them. Nope, they are still missing in action.</div>
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The closet tear apart was a good thing though, I ended up trying on everything in my summer closet and then some. I put some items back in rotation and permanently let go of others after close inspection. A full length mirror with a hand mirror as an accessory is hard to take, but knowledge is power. I also gave a good hard look at my shoes and told a few pairs to hit the road.</div>
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While I didn't find my perfect jeans, I found a pile of jeans someone gave me for my quilts on Etsy. Rather than call my search a complete failure, I got out my rotary cutter and mat and went to work on that stack of denim. There is more than enough for my next quilt idea, which is a Casual Friday quilt with jeans on the back and shirt material on the front. I made one in the past that turned out super cute, and with fall coming along soon, I need to get my quilt inventory up for the colder weather. <br />
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While jean styles come and go, the fabric is awesome for making rag quilts. So certain friends who frequent thrift stores and garage sales give me the unwanted jeans they come across at dirt cheap prices. In this latest stack of donated jeans, mostly ones I wouldn't dream of wearing, I found a pair that made me take a second to try them on - full length mirror and all. They looked better than my "old good jeans" (stay with me here), which are now my "new old work jeans." Oh the drama Levi Strauss put into play with his invention. </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The stack of jeans for the chopping block!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">No skinny jeans need apply, I want jeans with some wiggle room!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Distressed jeans. What Would Audrey Think?</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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Jessicahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05788198753815842259noreply@blogger.com