House earrings and other investments

During our engagement, I inherited a bit of cash from my Grandmother's estate. Did we spend it on kicking the wedding up a notch? No, we kept to our simple plan. Did we put it into a down payment on real estate in Davis, which would now be worth a pretty penny? No, we didn't. We traveled. For us buying a house has been the big Road Not Taken. We don't have any regrets.

Our first trip to Europe, and specifically to Ukraine, was life changing. Visiting Kiev in 1993 was an eye-opening jolt of reality. We met incredibly wonderful people living in such harsh conditions. Never before had I appreciated the basics, like having healthy teeth or something simple such as soap in the stores. On that first trip we also traveled to Prague, back when Prague was still cheap and cool. Ernst bought me a pair of earrings - two little red wooden house earrings. I love them and always get compliments when I wear them. Our joke was we owned not just one, but two houses. A duplex, in fact.

Precious real estate

Once we caught the travel bug we found the only cure was to travel more. We traveled cheap, but for long stretches and to some far away corners of Europe. There went down payment after down payment, invested instead in memories and priceless friendships. But now our little red houses have a third addition, one much larger. This one is the real kind. Yes, we are finally taking the plunge. We officially are no longer renters but mortgage payers. We signed the papers on 10-11-12. :O)

We had to be some of the pickiest house hunters our real estate agent ever met. Our requirements? Not long on description, but very specific about one thing. Location. Location. Location. We were looking for a house in a tiny little area of Sacramento, namely the neighborhood we already live in. We were hoping for a place with less yard work and definitely not a pool. Our wonderful agent Austin Nejera would email us listing after listing in nearby areas, but he finally got used to our dogged stubbornness to stay planted right here.

Because of the limited area we were interested in, we only looked at three houses total, and put a bid on two of them.

The first one taught me to never tour a house on a rainy day. It was one of the few pouring down days we had last winter, and it made all the ickiness of the house seem even ickier. It was also too big, with another large room added on the back and an extra bathroom. It's just the two of us and we don't need so much space. That made it easier to say no to that dreary house.

The second house was so much nicer! It had a wonderful enclosed patio with lots of windows - the perfect room to stage a Moldovan party from. It also had a man cave in the backyard. I've come to be a real fan of the man cave. It was the same exact layout as the house we rent now and was on the street behind us. It was basically just paint then move-in ready. The kitchen was on the livable side of funky for my taste, and it would have been an easy transition. And I thought how wonderful to have a smaller yard to take care of. Our bid of $26,000 higher than the asking price was the second place finisher. Drat! We really, really wanted that house.

So we went back to waiting. It's sort of a strange feeling walking through your own neighborhood wondering which house will go on the market next. It made me feel like a home vulture.

And then we heard some news from our friends, a family who's presence in our neighborhood is one of the reasons why we love it here so. They were going to short sale and did we want to try to bid for it? Talk about feeling like a vulture. Us getting it would only happen if they lost it. My emotions were a wreck, I felt guilty for even wanting the place. We put in an offer at the asking price (this time with a "Beg Letter" with a picture of us and Molly in her kiddie pool) and the bank accepted our offer and we jumped through all the lending company hoops and it's official. We are buying a house in a great location, our own neighborhood. A house with a huge yard. And a pool. Yes, it has a pool. If the dog could talk, she would congratulate us for thinking like Golden Retrievers. Who knows, if she wasn't in the picture, literally, we might still be looking.

We submitted this with our offer. "We need a bigger pool!"

This was our first dog Kodie the night before he died, being spoiled by the kids of the house. Maybe we could just all live there?

Happy Ten Eleven Twelve Day

There have been so many fun fall dates now that we're in the "pre-teen years" of this century.

For us, of course there was our big October bash on 10-10-10 celebrating our 19.25 anniversary. An admittedly strange anniversary to remember, but who could let that great day pass by without a party? Not I.

And then of course the perfect day for Igor and Rafaela to get married? I butted in with my suggestion for their wedding date and they ran with it, 11-11-11.

And now here we are on a silly little Thursday, completely wasted by the great date of 10-11-12. How sad that Ten Eleven Twelve is going down as a do nothing day. So ho hum. Hmm, when does 12-12-12 land? 11-12-13? After 12-13-14 we're out of chances and all the cool dates are gone. The countdown begins.

Things you don't want to hear in the morning

Annoying bird calls (the song birds have all switched to rap)
A jack hammer (there ought to be a law)
Your husband saying "The dog got into a skunk last night, I'm late for work, you're going to have to deal with it." (Homeward Bound should have rated her higher on level of difficulty - she is a three paws pup!)

The Da Da Sisterhood quilt

Some of my quilts get done at breakneck speed. While life falls apart around me - no food to eat, dishes piling up, laundry overflowing - a quilt gets designed, cut out, sewn together, snipped and washed in a marathon session. These aren't good for the house, or my hands or my back or my loved ones. But boy can I crank one out when I'm on a roll.

This quilt was in the making for 16 months, a new snail paced record. It's a gift for our friends Dennis and Julie, our fellow Romanian language learners in our congregation. Julie and I are lagging behind our families, founding members of the Da Da Sisterhood. In the middle of all the material gathering, Julie's mom died. That made this quilt much more sentimental and it was more pressure to get it right. Added to that, Julie was trying to track down some little clothes from her boys that had been worn by their cousins.

so cute, and so small

Finally it's done, finished up in this last blast of summer. I have never sewn with so many checks and plaids, not a favorite of mine because it's hard to get them straight when you're putting four squares of them together. But the plaids add such a cute touch. I was so nervous to cut up that itty bitty boys flannel shirt - what pressure. I had to tell myself, OK you do this all the time, you cut up old clothes and make quilts, just do it. But it was so small, any goof would make it unusable. I got one square, front and back, that was all. But it's my favorite, because the boys who wore that little shirt have grown up to be two really wonderful young men who we adore. Here is your quilt Dennis and Julie, a very Happy Belated Anniversary to you all.

so cute and so big

Davis Chili versus Woodland Chili

There are two surefire ways to keep me tossing and turning for hours. Feed me chocolate covered espresso beans anytime after 5 pm. Tell me something really interesting right before bed. What kind of information keeps me up?

• Budding romances
• Engagements
• Broken engagements
• Separations 
• Pregnancies 
• Health scares
• Money woes
• Money windfalls (it could happen)
• Juicy gossip

Basically any information that I can't do a thing about but lie in bed and ponder over is best left until morning. That's the rule around here. But the other night Ernst casually informed me that the couple I was planning to make the food for live in Davis.

Davis? I practically bolted up in bed. They live in Davis? Not Woodland?
What difference does it make? was his reply.
Men. Sometimes they are just so hilarious.

At that point my menu was all set. It was to be first of all really healthy - a plant-based, low oil Dr. McDougall style meal. Of course I wanted it also to be yummy and easy to transport and able to sit in the refrigerator at my husband's school, ready to be delivered to a home in Woodland.

I tossed and turned in bed with the following thoughts swirling around nutty brain:

• Farm to table
• No GMFs
• No BHAs
• Locally grown
• Farmers markets
• Pesticide free
• Cruelty free
• Cage free
• Chemical free
• Free range
• Shade grown in the Amazon in a preserved rain forest by well-paid indigenous peoples who don't wear leather

Although my ten years in Davis were my chunkiest ever, it wasn't the town's fault. It's really easy to eat healthy there. Throw in the Green Belt, and what's not to love? I still don't understand though, how I moved there as a vegetarian and moved away a carnivore. What was I thinking?

Needless to say, the night of the Davis/Woodland mix-up was sleep-free for a time. But I forged ahead with the planned menu. Here it was, all packed up in not so environmentally friendly plastic containers. If I lived in Davis, I would have sent the food in BHA-free glass containers. Tied with cruelty-free twine. Delivered on a bicycle.

Here are the recipes, or as closely as I can remember making them.


Causeway Classic Chili
(quantities are for a big batch) 

In a large pot in about one inch of veggie broth, saute a chopped yellow onion. After onion is soft, add a teaspoon of chopped garlic. Stir in one large can of each: black beans, garbanzo beans and kidney beans. Also add  a large can of crushed tomatoes and half a package of Trader Joe's frozen 3 color bell peppers and about a cup of Trader Joe's roasted tomato and red pepper soup. Add the following spices to taste: salt, pepper, paprika, cayenne pepper, crushed red pepper flakes, cumin, hot sauce and Braggs.

Let cook until the flavors combine and it thickens up a bit


Oh So Yolo Rice Salad

To about 3 cups cooked white or brown rice, add a half of each chopped fresh bell peppers - red and green and yellow, about 1/4 cup chopped cilantro, 1/4 cup chopped red onion, some unthawed Trader Joe's frozen roasted corn, one can of chopped black olives, some cumin, salt and pepper, a dash of Braggs and apple cider vinegar and a little plop of salsa. Toss and chill. Serve with cherry tomatoes.


Poleline Peppers

Core a variety of bell peppers and slice into quarters. Broil on both sides until the skins are charred.They will look awful. Cover with parchment paper or place in a covered bowl and let them sweat it out. When cool, peel off the charred skin and slice. (The peppers, not the skin. Put the skin in your earth friendly compost pile.) Toss with a dash of balsamic vinegar, Braggs, maple syrup, salt and pepper. Chill and serve cold.

When it all hit the wall

It was settled, the menu was chosen, the date was burned in our brains. We were on the list to make a dinner for my husband's principal after their new baby came along. I would make the food, E would deliver it.  They have food restrictions. We are experts at food restrictions. It was to be gluten free. I can do gluten free with my eyes closed.

Except we forgot. As in completely forgot to bring the food. As in totally forgot to prep the food. We both dropped the ball and it made a very large thud. When E called me and revealed our mutual stupidity, all I could repeat over and over was "We are such losers." Normally Ernst doesn't let me be so hard on myself, but he agreed, we were losers.

And that is why I sprayed marinara sauce all over my piano, my Belgian rug and up the living room wall. I am so focused on making food on Tuesday and having it ready to deliver on Wednesday, that we have no food for us. The fridge is a desert, except for some lentils that are getting on my nerves. That is why my dinner tonight was a bowl of pasta sauce. No pasta, just sauce. Cold, jarred pasta sauce. Red. A big red bowl of jarred red gloppy sauce, because I'm gearing up to cook a really nice meal tomorrow and the fridge is bare. Don't feed the losers - focus on redemption - something like that.

I brought my bowl into the living room, because on top of being really bad at remembering to bring his work supervisor the meal we promised, we can't seem to keep the kitchen table clean. So into the room with my favorite rug I went. Down on the couch, grab for a magazine to read and wham! There was pasta sauce all over the coffee table and big plops of it on my rug. While I ran for some cleaner, Molly went to work. She did quite a good job licking it all up and after I washed the rug off and vacuumed, all the evidence was gone. Then I looked at the piano. And the picture on the wall. And the wall almost up to the ceiling. Man, pasta sauce can really fly. Culinary redemption doesn't come without a price.

Sewer guys and Space Shuttles

The dog's most exciting event of the day?
Barking at the sewer workers in the yard.

My most exciting event of the day?
Watching the space shuttle Endeavour make a pass over Sacramento on top of a 747 jet!

I actually ran out prematurely in my pajamas when a Coast Guard plane flew over, but the sewer workers let me know it was the wrong plane. Then I heard them yelling, "There it is, there it is!" They had either found something very nasty in the pipe or it really was the Space Shuttle this time. I ran out just in time to see it - pretty impressive. The rest of the day is going to be so ho-hum.

photo credit: LA Times

Gosh, Google's got me in a giga-grip

Recently I heard the phrase, "There's no such thing as a free blog."

Sure there is, I thought. Blogger is free. It doesn't cost a thing to join. You just pick a background theme (one that will soon embarrass you to no end and that you'll spend countless hours revamping) and you start writing. And posting photos. And uploading videos. It's a win-win situation. My blog is the photo album I never kept up and the diary I never updated. Blogging - love love love it!

Recently I went to post some photos, as usual nothing earth shattering. Probably yet another cute photo of the dog, or a newly finished rag quilt or something from our white trash garden. Then the trouble began. A message popped up - my Picasa storage was full. Huh? I'm not even using Picasa to upload my photos, I'm just uploading from my computer. Not so, my little deary, was the answer. Not only does Blogger put all uploaded photos onto Picasa without us really knowing it, once Picasa fills up they want us to spend $2.50 a month to increase our storage space.

OK, $2.50 a month is nothing, hardly worth thinking about. But one of the first things I probably said as a kid was "Not Fair!" stated with my face scrunched up, hand on hip and lower lip sticking out. I was that kind of kid and I'm still much the same way. Assume I pay this little paltry sum, for however long I keep doing this blog, and then stop paying at some point. So what happens to all that extra memory? It's not like I'm buying the memory, I'm leasing it. So any photos put on my blog after that point would show up as a big ugly X in all my future posts.

Hmmm, hand still on hip, what am I to do? I Googled it and got some answers. Turns out, and listen up new Blogger users, I should have been resizing my photos to 800x800 or less before uploading them. Or I should have set my camera to that setting, seeing as I think my dreams of becoming a photo journalist ended the day I took a picture of how to make dog food in a crock pot. Smaller photos mean less memory which will mean your Picasa storage should be fine.

How can you know if you are reaching Picasa capacity? Open up to your Google page. Find the pull down for More. Go to Photos. AHA! And you didn't think your photos were going to Picasa. Scroll down to the very bottom, get out your magnifying glass and the Hubble spacecraft's lens to see it, and there in tiny print is how much storage you have left. I was at 99.9%. This is what I did to get myself more storage: I put some mindless time in resizing a zillion of my photos, more zillions to go. But I read that any photos under 800x800 from now on do not count as storage so I'm good for now.

In Google go to Photos to open up Picasa:

1) Open a photo.

2) Click on top on "Actions"

3) Click "Edit in Creative Kit"

4) "Resize" (when Creative Kit opens)

5) Change the largest dimension to 800 & the other will adjust itself in proportion. (Keep proportions is auto checked)

6) Click "apply"

7) Click "Save to my album" (upper right)

8) A box opens up to confirm this. It'll have "replace" checked. Click on "replace" and it will save to your album.
9) Click the > symbol to right of the picture to go to next one.

10) As you proceed, your storage capacity will increase. You can also, very carefully, delete photos that you may have uploaded but never kept on a certain post. Do this carefully; if it's not in Picasa, it won't be in your blog.

So, where do I go from here with my blog at the mercy of Google and Blogger and Picasa? Many bloggers are switching to Word Press, but the process sounds daunting. It acts more like a website, I guess, but you need professional help to make the leap. I know I need professional help in many areas of my life, but really, for a blog? A blog that is mostly about my dog? If ever there should be a free blog, a dog blog should be one of them.

Ernst wants me to forget the whole blogging platform and take the leap to getting a website. Again I say that seems to be a bit of overkill. Besides, AllSquaredUp.com is taken as is SquaredUp.com. What we came up with is SquaredUpLife.com which I'm not in love with, but could live with. Until my friend Julie said it sounds like ScrewedUpLife.com. With the state of things lately, that might be just perfect.

It's crystal clear - I love chandeliers

In describing my decorating style, the words elegant, sophisticated and refined would not be on the vocabulary list. Crystal and lace? Not so much. Think Early Dumpster. I really go for the stuff that's been beat up a little. Not even Shabby Chic really, more like just shabby. I like the kind of furniture that's improved with each bump of the vacuum cleaner. I keep waiting to get a bit more ladylike on the home front, but slightly chipping paint just steals my heart.

So it's a surprise to me when I simply go gaga over chandeliers - the more over-the-top the better. I was in bauble heaven when we attended the Romanian convention at the Stanley Theater in Jersey City recently. This theater built in the 1920's is full of amazing chandeliers and art deco lighting fixtures. If you love chandeliers, your neck will hurt after a visit to this place. They are stunning.

Back in the mid-80s I was visiting my brother in New York. At the end of the trip he said in an off-hand remark "Oh yeah, Jessie, if I had thought of it, you could have been one of the volunteers to help clean up antique chandeliers. We're renovating some building in Jersey and they were looking for people to polish up the crystals."  I could have been a part of making those gorgeous things shine again after years of dust and nicotine? I've tried letting go of this, I really have. The chic in me forgave him but the shabby in me will never forget!

The Alexandria quilt

Russians and Moldovans are famous for having multiple "official" nicknames. By that I mean they have nicknames that people call them with such earnestness that it's hard to remember what they're really called. I have never read War and Peace, but have heard that the back and forth of nicknames is enough to drive the reader crazy. That's how we felt when we were first trying to sort out the names of our new Moldovan friends. A conversation with Ernst:

So Sura (Shura) says to me...
Who's Sura again?
You know, Galia's sister.
And Galia is which one?
You know, her real name is Galina.
OK, so who's Sura?
You know, Surica, Galia-Galina's sister.
I thought her name was Alexandria.
It is, but it's Sura for short.
So who's Surica?
That would be Sura's other name.
You mean Alexandria?
Yes, Sura and Surica and Alexandria. All the same person.
And her husband is Alex?
You mean Alexander?
Whatever.
Yeah, but everyone calls him Sasha.

We should have just run away at that point. I think the confusion with the names is just their way of warning you that Romanian grammar will drive you mad. We can't say we were not warned.

When Sura found out I made a Galina rag quilt, well, let's just say I had some explaining to do. So here it is - the official Alexandria quilt. I cut this out weeks and weeks ago and finally got it done. It contains some gorgeous blue and green florals from the thrift store, an incredible vintage damask, some fabric sample stripes, an upcycled white Bullock and Jones dress shirt and the very last of that awesome asparagus green corduroy that made its way into so many of my quilts. When I bought the very large amount of it at Goodwill, I thought I would never go through it. Unless it has changed its name and gone into hiding, the green is gone.

The Sura, um, Surica, well actually Alexandria quilt