All I'm Saying there's a joke in here somewhere

News of Idaho
Senator Larry Craig's arrest for lewd conduct is all over the place right now. Every media website I look at has his picture prominently displayed with all kinds of gory details about the arrest, the public reaction, and Craig's own statements.

News of the arrest is the only part of this that is really news to many Idahoans, at least to those who have been here for a while. There have been rumors swirling around him for a long time. And as others before me have pointed out, the only reason to find this even remotely entertaining is simply because he has had such a tough record against gay rights, and
has partnered so closely with so many hatemongers so-called "family values" groups. So really, I feel like this has been a long time coming. And my initial reaction when I saw the news update on the local paper's website yesterday was a burst of glee that carried me into last evening.

But today... Today I feel sorry for his family. As I've mentioned before, I used to date the Senator's cousin, and my family bought part of his father's ranch outside of Midvale back in the 90s. So I know a lot of these folks, and I know they are walking around with their heads hung--and believe me, that's not a place those peoples' heads are used to being. Nor do they deserve to be. The family members I have known are such good, genuine people. You might wonder then, why would they feel badly about this? I would think they are feeling like they're painted with the same brush--the brush that is highlighting what a dishonest person the Senator
appears to be. Maybe I presume too much. Maybe they're angry at him too, and maybe they
don't feel any more or less betrayed than any other constituent. I haven't spoken to any of them in several years, and I don't think cold-calling them now to satisfy my curiosity is a good thing.

And honestly? I feel a little bad for the Senator. A little. I mean, who is to say what is truly in his heart? If he's a gay person who has been so terrified of outing all these years that he's outwardly a total contrast to the person he really is inside, then I feel a little bit sorry for him. It
doesn't excuse the fact that he has done a great deal to continue an environment where gay people don't generally feel comfortable being all the way out. Not one little iota. And conversely, if he has been laughing behind his hand at all the people he's been fooling while out trolling for tawdry encounters in bathrooms, I feel bad for us.

One way or another, I can't really say I feel all that good about the situation.

Malia came to town to visit us on Friday. I picked her up at the airport, we went and had some lunch, then went on a lengthy tour of my workplace, which she more or less coincidentally is affiliated with through her own job. Peripherally, anyway. We came home and she helped make homemade deep dish pizza for dinner with produce from our neighbor's successful garden (which we are watering and harvesting from in the neighbor's absence). We went to the Fair on Saturday, where Malia and her friend from high school, who has recently moved to Boise, were duly impressed by the earless goats, the quantities of fried dough, and the people watching.

Sadly, we had to let Malia go home today. She is a GREAT house-guest. Seriously, if you are looking to have someone come visit you, you can't ask for better. Our poor dog is in a funk because he had made her an honorary member of his pack: she unceasingly, untiringly threw his ball for him. He hasn't had that much attention from an adult since Freya was born.

Tonight has me in a bit of a grump. Freya refused to take her afternoon nap, which made it really difficult for me to turn the 28 lbs. of tomatoes I had bought into sauce, as I had planned. I think I managed to get through almost half of them, but what with cleaning and getting ready for my in-laws arrival tomorrow...well, my stress levels got high. She's sitting on my lap watching YouTube right now, and we're headed for what I really, really hope is an early bedtime for her.

If you don't hear from me for a couple of days, it is due to in-law attendance. They promise they are staying for a much shorter period of time this go-round...we'll see. I'm not holding my breath.

We took Freya to the Western Idaho Fair last night. It was interesting, as always. One of our first stops was the petting zoo, which is basically a huge variety of livestock breeds in little pens. You can buy cups of grain to hand-feed the little critters. They had Watusi cattle, pygmy goats, and everything in between. Freya was in her stroller and was a lively observer, but didn't want to touch anything. We headed off to the livestock exposition barns from there and were alarmed to find a bunch of goats with no ears. Evidently, some of them come that way. On purpose or something. We got to observe goats getting milked by machine, which nearly made agnostic little me fall to my knees in praise of the lord because I don't have to use a breast pump.

And then it was off to the horse barn. One of my very favorite things to see at the Fair are the draft horses. We used to have a matched team of Shires when I was a kid, and they'd pull our hay wagon around. Their names were Teddy and Willie, after former President Roosevelt and the world's greatest country music singer and guitarist. They were really cool horses and the sweetest, gentlest animals around. Maybe Freya took a cue from me, but she got excited to touch one of the huge Percherons in the barn. Once she had petted him, she wanted to pet every other horse in the barn, large or small.

After some more poking around and a dinner of Fair food (gyros and churros), we walked around the midway. Freya really, really wanted to go on the carousel and Matt would have taken her, but she is nowhere near the height requirement. I hope to high hell we make it by next year--she's going to be a lot harder to dissuade by then.

We headed for home, but Freya and I will be taking Malia down there on Saturday to check it out. Nothing says "Welcome to Idaho" like earless goats and drunken rednecks.

You know, one thing I don't really get are motorcycles. It almost certainly stems from the fact that my elder brother is a paraplegic after a motorcycle accident when he was 21. (Freak deal, and yes, he did have a helmet on.) Ever since, I've been pretty afraid of them.

Clearly, they have a huge following. But one thing that drives me nuts is when you see two motorcyclists passing one another, they do this weird little wave where they drop their left hand down to about the 7 o'clock position. It doesn't matter if it is a hawg rider passing a guy on a crotch rocket--they don't seem especially classist. And it is certain that they don't know one another, but they have their little wave to acknowledge their brotherhood or something. I was especially interested a couple of days ago when I was following a guy on a hawg down the street and a moped rider was approaching the other way. No wave. I guess maybe they are a little classist.

And the other thing I don't get are those bucket helmets that they sometimes wear. I am a HUGE proponent of helmets, and it makes me glad to see people wearing any helmet at all. But why a bucket? It protects the top of your head, I suppose, but what about your face? And your teeth?! I'm completely freaked out about the possibility of losing my teeth, so I would be all about a helmet that covered my whole head and probably would want as much extra protection around my mouth as possible. I'm way too pretty to have my face scraped off on the concrete.

Anyway, that's just me, I guess.

I lost Freya last week. Yep, flat-out lost her. Sure, it was only for about 3 minutes, but they were probably the most unstable 3 minutes of my life. We were out in the front yard waiting for Matt to get home. I was weeding, and she was on the front porch by the door. I had my whole body turned toward her and was between her and the street, and I looked up and checked her position every few seconds.

And then I looked up and she wasn't there anymore. Slight tinges of adrenaline started to feed my blood stream, and I quickly stepped around the side of the house. No baby. I checked the other side, and she wasn't there either. Mystified and increasingly panicked, I trotted to the next house down, and then the next one. I came back the other way and started checking front and side yards. Our neighbors across the street were in front of their house and asked if anything was wrong, and I said, "I can't find Freya!" The hysteria in my voice spurred them and they raced over. Just as we were about to mount a major expedition-style search, I thought to look inside our house. As if she could get in--at full stretch, her hand is still a foot below the doorknob. I stuck my head in the door, and there she sat on her toybox by the window, watching the neighbors and I as we were running around. She had pushed the front door open and then closed it behind her.

It was absolutely chilling. And from what people have been telling me, it happens to just about every parent and usually more than once.

She and I met a friend and her daughter at the Morrison-Knutson Nature Center this afternoon. Freya and my friend's 4 year old were wandering around the paths together, and Freya caught a toe on some broken asphalt, tripped, and bonked her head and skinned her knee. She cried and I picked her up and soothed her. She had a tiny bit of pavement rash on her noggin. But she shrugged it off really quickly and hopped down, and no sooner had my friend said, "That was a quick recovery!" than Freya caught her toe and went down again, bonking her head a second time. It opened up the first scrape even more and now she has a big old purple knot on her forehead. Poor little mouse! I swear for every drop of blood she's ever shed, I have bled a gallon in sympathy. I feel like I have, at least.

Can you imagine the life currently being led by the brother/sister act who have outgrown these? Or what about these matching outfits? Donny and Marie, jump back!

Craigslist has been interesting around Boise lately. A guy just tried to lure a woman in by posting an ad that he wanted to sell his wife's iPod out of some kind of revenge thing, and here's the thrust of the story:

Police said that when the woman came to the park to meet Newman, she thought the situation was suspicious and called police. Officers found a man wearing a black stocking cap in a red sport utility vehicle with California plates and a knife, gloves and bb gun inside the SUV. Officers arrested Newman on the misdemeanor charges that night and he bonded out the next day.

Makes me think twice, I tell ya. What are some of the odd things you all have seen on Craigslist?

I received my cheesemaking kit in the mail on Saturday, and have had my butt in a bundle to make some mozzarella ever since it showed up. I went to the Co-op and bought some expensive local milk and started my first batch this morning.

Well. Cheesemaking isn't quite as simple as they let on.

I didn't realize how quickly a gallon of milk would heat up to 88 degrees F. A little quicker thank I thought, let's just say. I think I accidentally caused it to pasteurize a second time, and the more milk is heated, the less good little bacterium are in it to glob together and form curds. I worked and worked, and nothing came to pass except a skimming of curd on the top. I set that into some cheesecloth over a colander, just to see what I'd have left, then went to work some overtime at the office.

I bought another gallon of milk, this time whole milk (instead of 2%, which still should have worked). It was also from a different dairy/distributer, so that might have made a difference. The recipe for mozzarella calls itself "Thirty Minute Mozzarella," so I thought I could crank out a batch before I had to go back to the office. Not so. I came back after skimming the curds off and tried to finish the job. I would say this batch is actually about 90% like real mozzarella. It actually tastes like it--it just didn't bind together as much as I would have liked. So I made a spreadable cheese, instead of a sliceable one.

I've got to tell you, it tastes wonderful. Once I get the technique perfected, I really don't think we'll be buying mozz from a store anymore. It is worlds apart. And I would imagine after making a few batches, I'll get my time down to closer to thirty minutes.

As for that first batch, it actually strained out well enough to make a creditable amount of ricotta. Did you know ricotta is pretty much a thinner version of mozzarella? You do now. Since I'm not likely to heat up the house making a lasagna, I'm interested in hearing if you all know of any good recipes that use ricotta. I don't have the time in life to make crepes, in case you were going to mention those. (Though why I think I have time to make cheese, I don't know...)

I've been doing some great reading lately. I've been on a central Asia bent for the most part, having recently read "A Thousand Splendid Suns" by Khaled Hosseini. It was really moving, and terrifying to think what can happen so quickly to a society held in extremist hands. My boss had loaned it to me--he's a very liberal, well-read man, a Buddhist, and open-minded. I jokingly told him that the book made me decide to vote Republican in the next elections because men like GW were all that stood between us and the Taliban. He said he wanted his book back.

Next, I read "Three Cups of Tea" by Greg Mortensen and David Relin. What an amazing story! Mortensen was a mountain climber who failed on a bid to climb K2. On his way back down the mountain, he chanced upon the wrong path and wound up in a village where his life was changed forever by the villagers he met. He vowed to return and build them a school. One thing led to another, and it has turned out that the foundation he and a donor created has built dozens of schools in Pakistan and now in Afghanistan. In addition to just being the right thing to do, it turns out this school building counters extremist anti-American sentiment that is building in rural areas where the only education kids can get is often in "madrassas," which are essentially brain-washing camps where only nominal education is provided and mainly hatred and violence are the teachings. And to give you some perspective, a teacher's salary in Pakistan equates to about one American dollar per day. A dollar. Isn't it a worthwhile investment? So I finished the book and went on over to Mortensen's foundation's website--The Central Asia Institute and made a donation. And I can't recommend the book enough. Sometimes it feels like most of the rest of the world hates us Americans, and this book tells us that it isn't true. We just need to take a little action to help fight that sentiment.

Finally, I am currently reveling in Barbara Kingsolver's new one, "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle." She and her family move to their farm full time and vow to only eat locally-raised food for a year. It's a life-changer for me too, I think. I didn't realize just how much fuel it takes to get any given meal on my plate, and this book provides some really practical, fun, good for the earth, good for your health, good for your family ways to make changes. In fact, I got inspired to try making my own cheese, and I went over to the Cheese Queen website and ordered a kit to help me make homemade mozzarella--and it only takes 30 minutes for a one-pound batch! I cannot wait to try it. I cannot wait to post to the blog about it.

So if you are casting about for new reading, there are three recommendations that I can't say enough good about. They're entertaining, and they're meaningful, and they'll help you enrich your own life and that of others. What more can you ask for?

Oh my baby, you're a year and a half old. And you started Montessori full time today. It was not your greatest day, I have to admit.

We got to the school and you evidently recognized it from the few days you spent there in June, because you started crying as soon as you saw the building. We went in and I sat down with you and we read some stories, worked on a puzzle, and played with big Lego blocks. You had settled in pretty well when it was time for me to leave, but as soon as I told you goodbye, you started sobbing. You chased me out the door crying, "Mama, mama!" It hurt like crazy for both of us, I guess. You did well through the day, and I know you will get adjusted to it quickly. In fact, one of the teacher's aides commented that you settled in really quickly back in June when you were there. I know it is going to be hard for a few days, but I really think you're going to love Montessori.

Almost as much as you love YouTube. You point up the stairs several times a day toward the computer room and say, "Watch bwoo!" bwoo being your word for elephant, because that's the sound an elephant makes. So we watch elephant cartoons and such on YouTube for a while. Here's one of your favorites:

Not to be outdone, you are a YouTube star in your own right:

You're such a sweetheart, and I feel such guilt over your Montessori trauma today that I'd probably get you a pony if you asked for one. Thank God you don't know how to ask for one...

All my love, little heart.
Mommy

I don't think I'll trouble you all with a travelogue this time, as we didn't really have a whole lot of activity on our vacation. But I will give you one long post full of pictures and details, how's that?

We went to Eagle Lake, California. We were trying to find a place as close to Lassen Volcanic National Park as we could get and that would still be affordable. That put us about an hour from the Park, but Eagle Lake was nice and quiet. It is a big time fishing area, and there are a bazillion little cabins you can rent for a modest price. Our cabin was probably 600 square feet and really pretty cute inside. The only downside was that the owners regularly fed the deer that hung around the area, which made for some really pesky deer. (Note: there is no good reason to feed wild animals, especially in the summer. That should be left to professional wildlife managers, and only during especially stressful winters. Enough said.) Here are a couple of the beasties in the front yard. I will add that Freya got a kick out of watching them.

We made about three different forays into the Park. On our first day, we took the main road from the south and drove it all the way through to the north side, then back down to the cabin. We stopped at several good places, including this creek. Freya loved to get in the water and throw rocks, pretty much everywhere we went.

Matt went fishing on the south end of Eagle Lake on our second day, but didn't have much luck. I think the fishing is mainly done out of boats and very early in the morning. Without a boat, you're kind of screwed. If we go back, we might take my Dad's jet ski, which is big enough for one person to fish off.

We returned to the Park on day three, this time down to Warner Valley and The Drakesbad Lodge, which is a kind of guest ranch on the south end of Lassen NP. It was...uh...apparantly brutally overpriced, at least as near as we can tell. The accomodations weren't much different than the cabin we stayed in (at $60/night), though they did provide all your meals. But it was about $176/person/night there, so we felt somewhat vindicated. Still, the Warner Valley was pretty. And Freya got to throw some rocks in the creek.

On our final day, we went back to the Park, and this time explored the northeast corner, which is where Butte Lake is. I highly recommend a visit there if you go to Lassen NP. It is beautiful, and it is quiet. There is a great campground in a grove of enormous ponderosa pine trees, hiking trails lead out in all directions, and Butte Lake itself is gorgeous. Freya threw some rocks in it.

Matt also got to do some fishing, but was again unsuccessful. While Freya was engaged in throwing rocks in the lake, she did take a little tumble and fell head-first into deeper water. (I was standing right beside her, so she was quickly rescued.) We were greatly impressed with her instincts: she put her head up out of the water, put her hands down on the lake floor to prop her head up, and floated for the second it took me to react. Those swim lessons really paid off.

So that's our vacation in a nutshell. It was pleasant and relaxing. And many rocks were thrown.