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

I've mentioned before that I've got issues with my hip/lower back, which is actually something called "piriformis syndrome," where some of the muscles running through my pelvis pinch a nerve against bone. Jessica suggested I go see a massage therapist trained to a higher degree than my usual, and that jogged my memory about a co-worker's physical therapist.

I've been going to see a lady for about three weeks now, and I am totally amazed at how much better my hip feels. I barely have any twinges with it at all; she's taught me some great stretches and exercises, plus done a few adjustments. Yay!

However. It appears that the top two ribs on my left side are out of joint and have been for a long time. (Possibly as a result of a stupid car crash when I was 21. Stupid because I caused it.) I was interested to learn that your ribs do have a joint where they meet up with your vertebrae; the joint is called a "plane joint," so it is different than the regular ball-and-socket joints you have in your hips, elbows, shoulders, etc. The plane joint is essentially flattened pieces of different bones that line up with one another. My ribs happen to have slipped up above the matching vertabrae, and they pinch the muscles there.

It's funny--when I went in to see her, I mentioned the shoulder peripherally. She checked it and said, "I can't believe you're here for your hip. Holy crap, what a mess!" She's reiterated that on every visit, because the muscles have tightened up so badly around that area that she simply cannot get the joints to match up again.

We're working on it. After what she's done for my hip, I have a lot of faith!

BinkyBoy just reported that Idaho wack-job Bryan Fischer is not-too-subtly drawing correlaries between the fact that two families killed in a horrific plane crash happened to be related to the owner of a chain of private abortion clinics, and the fact that God saw fit to smite them by crashing their plane into a Roman Catholic graveyard that happened to include a monument to fetuses who were aborted:

The terrible symmetry in this event is the kind of thing that should prompt us all to reflect on certain major questions about the sanctity of life and justice in this life and in the age to come.

I imagine that all of us will answer these questions in different ways, and none of us knows the mind of God on this matter, which is why I refrained from offering any commentary. We will not know the ultimate answers to our questions until we stand on the other side, but think on these things we must.

Don't you just love it when people say, "(I just said all the previous bullshit)...but I'll refrain from commenting." My ass you're refraining--it's all there in black and white.

Aside from the fact that it is a purely awful, hateful thing to say, the irony strikes me that there's not much difference between God deliberately killing a family (including five innocent children and one in its mother's womb) in a plane crash, and the most wanton abortion-for-birth-control type of fruitcake the pro-life movement likes to hold up as its poster children. If a pregnant woman has an abortion, it's somehow worse than God killing living kids? I don't think so.

Personally, that train of logic takes me to the mental destination that God is a Grisly Abortionist. Anyone else?

Sorry for the break in service, folks--as I've mentioned before, Freya's Montessori program follows the Boise school schedule and they get the same spring break as everyone else. We decided to head off to Oregon for a few days. It was a great trip.

On our way there and back, we stayed at a yurt at Tumalo State Park, just north of Bend. For $35/night, we got a really cool heated room with comfy bunks, and access to showers and restrooms with hot running water. It was really, really fun. What? You don't know what a yurt looks like inside? Well, let me fix that for you:

These yurts slept five people, but it would have been cozy. We used the bunk beds shown, and there is a futon that accomodates two more people.

Here's that futon:

Our yurt came with a pirate! No, that's just Matt. He's not thrilled with this picture.

It's good manners to tidy up your yurt before you leave--we brought our own housekeeping staff along.

From Bend, we headed west through Eugene and Reedsport to the coast. If you haven't been to the Oregon coast before, you've got to go. It's wild and incredibly beautiful. The weather can be pretty sketchy, but you just take along the right clothes and you're fine. That first day at the coast we went to Shore Acres State Park, which is a spectacular spot. A "pioneer timber baron" built a mansion here and planted his gardens with exotic varieties of plants and flowers, as well as a huge variety of rhododendrons. It's on a cliff over the ocean, and has the most beautiful little cove near it, where Freya got to indulge in her sand castle building hobby.

We rented a cabin at Cape Blanco State Park, which was another great investment at $35/night. (I liked the yurt better, though--more character.) It too had heat and comfy beds, as well as a table and chairs and some shelves, plus an ocean view. You can't beat it.

Cape Blanco is the only place I have ever seen wild whales, but that was on our trip back in 2004, and we didn't see any of them this time around. We did see sea lions and some harbor seals, which was neat.

We were hoping to get Freya into some good tidal pools, but Cape Blanco just has a really sandy beach, so again, more castle building and kite flying.

We capped it all off with a visit to West Coast Game Park Safari, where we met my Aunt Judy, Cousin Robin, and Robin's daughter, Aubrey. They don't actually live at the game park--they live about an hour up the road and I hardly ever get to see them. In fact, I don't think I've seen Robin since we were about 5 or 6 years old, so it was great. The park itself is a little cheesy, but it was a fun activity for Freya.

She and I got to pet Char, a black leopard there. I am not sure, but I believe this is some kind of propagation facility, where they breed animals and sell them to...who do you sell exotic animals to? Collectors? Probably not zoos--I think they're pretty selective.

So. That's the rundown of the trip and most of the highlights. It was almost like you were right there with us, wasn't it? Anyone else go anyplace fun for spring break?

I won't be blogging for a few days, so I'll wish you a happy Spring Break!

I've mentioned before that I take Freya to a local farm every Saturday during the growing season. Our friends who own the farm run a little farm-stand and sell produce, bedding plants, eggs, milk and cheese, plus honey they get out of their own hives. Most of the produce is grown on-site; milk comes from Cloverleaf Creamery (a hundred miles or so east of Boise), and the cheese from Ballard Family Cheese, another semi-local, small-scale producer.

While the products are great, the main thing for me is to be able to show Freya how farms grow our food--she understands about seeds growing into plants, and she knows that some plants grow tasty fruits and vegetables. She knows the chickens at the farm, and she loves to go visit them. She knows those very chickens lay the eggs we eat.

Unfortunately, the county government put a freeze order on the farm last fall because they didn't have the requisite permits to sell products, nor were they zoned for commercial traffic. My friends tried really hard to work with the county, but the county code was vague about how they could make their business work and lord knows the county employees were even more vague. In fact, they toured the farm one day and had no understanding of basic growing principles like irrigation. The irony there is that the very people who could best use to know how a farm works are actually in charge of shutting one down. They don't know how hard these folks work; all the know is that a certain piece of paper isn't stamped and the current code doesn't allow the business to remain open.

The good news is that my friends are going to convert their operation over to a CSA service, which stands for Community Supported Agriculture, wherein people can buy a share of the total crop for the year. We'll still be able to get our fruits, veggies, eggs and honey, but the farm cannot allow customers on its property without risking violations. In fact, my friends were threatened with jail if they did not comply with the county code. Being peaceful folks, they're not risking it.

In the meantime, they've put several thousand dollars of their own money into a draft county code to allow farm-stands and farmer's markets to operate on their own property. They won't ever get reimbursed for that by the county, but perhaps their proposed code will be adopted. Perhaps it won't be--there are no guarantees when dealing with the bureaucracy, but as farmers, they're used to uncontrollable events.

If you're in the Boise area and interested in subscribing to a CSA run by excellent, hard-working people who grow natural produce, please let me know and I'll connect you. If you're not interested, or not in this area, please consider giving some of your food dollars to the local farmers who are struggling to stay afloat. We really need these farms.

I have crocuses up in the front yard, I have about four inches of tulip plants showing, and we just planted peas, lettuce and onions in the garden. With any luck, we'll have shoots showing by the end of spring break!

The temperatures today were pushing sixty, overnight temps have been in the forties for the last several days. We know it will snow and frost again and again (you don't put tender plants out in Boise unsheltered until the snow is off the Foothills, usually mid-May), but we are well on our way.

I also got to wear a pair of capri yoga pants around the garden just now, and started cooking the mushrooms off all the skin that has been covered for the last six months. Hooray for spring! And happy St. Paddy's day to you.

Do you have any oaths, epithets or swears you particularly like, but aren't a daily part of folks' vernacular? My current favorite is, "Bollocks." It's an Old English derivative of "ballocks," which is defined as "testes."

Properly usage might include, "He said what?! That's bollocks!" It's essentially a slang term for nonsense or rubbish.

So go on--broaden my vocabulary. Do you have anything off-color to share?

When I was growing up, my absolute favorite food was crab. We didn't get it often, since we were in rural Idaho and an hour from the nearest large grocery store, and since my folks didn't usually spring for big-ticket food items. But every now and then, we'd have crab legs for dinner and it was a HUGE moment for me.

I picked some crab up at Fred Meyer today, and we ate it for dinner tonight. Freya has had and enjoyed crab in sushi before, but has never dealt with it fresh out of the shell. Well, now I have a greater respect for what my folks went through cracking crab for an insatiable child: I probably got to eat about a third of my portion, as did Matt, and we were both cracking as fast as we could to feed the little maw that demanded, "More! More! More!" I felt like a mama robin with a cuckoo hatchling in my nest.

I actually had a flash of being a grandmother someday and having Freya call me to say, "Your granddaughter loves crab too. Boy, I hardly got to eat any of my own!" I'm thinking of calling my dad tonight to tell him the same.

(And hey, at least she ate the same thing we did for dinner tonight! Now all I have to do is serve crab every night--I'll never get the stench out of here.)

I was lucky enough to have lunch today with Darlene and Sisyphus today atOno Cafe, a Hawaiian/Asian-fusion joint in Boise. (This was triple-lucky because, hey, lunch!, because I was in good company, and because Ono is awfully tasty.)

It's a good thing there weren't any catastrophes there today, because the three of us represented roughly 20% of Idaho's Democratic bloggers. I think. It would have been quite a blow to the party. It's also a good thing I was on my best behavior, because the panko-breaded/ginger/soy salmon dish I had was so good I damned near did a face-plant into the plate. I even refrained from picking the plate up and licking it. You really have to mind your etiquette when you're meeting internet people, or they get scared and you never hear from them again--have you noticed?

Anyway, I make a motion that we have a tradition of getting together when Darlene is able to migrate over from the Other Scary Part of Idaho, and maybe we can get some of the other 90% to join us. You guys in?

We've been fighting dinnertime battles with Freya lately. We always try to serve her food that she likes to eat, so nine times out of ten, she's having "toddler food" while Matt and I eat whatever we cook that night. She'll join us for things like spaghetti and pizza, but she's really more into chicken strips or carrots with peanut butter.

We ask her what she'd like to eat for dinner usually, and those nights go a little better when she has some buy-in to what she's eating. But still, she doesn't eat much. She'd rather snack--yogurt, goldfish crackers, string cheese, etc. Part of me wants to concede to that; another part of me says that we'll give her wacky eating habits and I'll be cooking her chicken strips every night when she's seventeen.

I actually sent her to her room for the first time ever the other night. We had some apples that were about at the end of their shelf-life, so I made homemade applesauce. Freya knew that was what she'd be eating and she seemed fine with that until I put it in front of her. Then the fight was on. She turned up her nose for a solid half-hour at it, and all the cajoling and ordering in the world didn't work. Finally, I explained that kids who don't do what their mom and dad say have to go sit in their room by themselves. Then I gave her several more chances to comply, and then took her up to her room where she screamed and cried all alone for a grand total of about five minutes. And then she turned up her nose at the applesauce again. I actually wouldn't eat applesauce with someone else's face, so after she tried a bite and gagged, I gave up and made her cheese and crackers.

I'd love to hear suggestions from parents who've survived this. Do I just let her go and make sure the snacks she eats are at least healthy, or do I continue to enforce a dinnertime shared with her parents?

I can finally get into my blog software, and now I'm too tired to come up with anything in particular. However, I will share with you the funniest video in my e-mail inbox today.

I'm guessing this fella has chased his share of parked cars:

Spring tickled me this weekend, and I decided it was time for a clean-out around here. Most of what I had to deal with was not trash, but not anything I wanted or needed to keep anymore. Some of it had some value, and wasn't just something to donate to one of the charity stores. So what to do?

I started by cleaning out my closet and taking unwanted clothes and shoes to a local consignment store, where I dropped off quite a few things that had been hanging in my closet. I'll call in a month and a half to see how much has sold, and how much money I was able to make.

Then I took the last of Freya's outgrown spring clothes and a bouncy seat to a kids' consignment store for credit. Since she doesn't need anything right now, I left the credit at the store to use at a time in the future.

I did make a drop at Goodwill, which consisted of the stuff that the consignment store didn't want (and that I couldn't think of another source for), as well as the gleanings from Freya's toybox that wouldn't sell at consignment.

Then I came home and started listing things on FreeCycle. If you're not familiar with FreeCycle (and aren't sick of hearing me talk about it yet), it's an online community that communicates through a Yahoo! group. You post what you have to get rid of, e-mails come in to you from people who are interested, and you select someone who will come and get it from you. I listed our old computer monitor (which is hopefully going to get picked up tomorrow), Freya's old and beat-to-hell highchair, and all of last year's plastic pots from my little landscaping project. The latter two items have already been picked up by folks who could put them to use.

Ahhh, it feels good. Next weekend? Spring cleaning, possibly. Anyone like to come wash my windows?

Oh, and answers to the "What's on My Zune" quiz are in the extended entry:

Continue reading "Spring Purge"

Because I can't think of anything to write about besides bitching about the falling snow (and that didn't take long, did it?), here's the next round of the game where you read the lyrics from selected songs on my Zune and tell me the title and artist. Ready?

1. There's a dead salmon frozen in a waterfall

2. When I arrive I'll bring the fire

3. Lay your coconut on my tiki

4. She needs a golden calculator

5. The line forms on the right, babe

6. I'd rather live in his world than live without him in mine

7. Sweet the rain's new fall sunlit from heaven

8. What if I were Romeo in black jeans

9. I'm a soldier in the war on poverty

10. Our families can't agree; I'm your brother's sworn enemy

Post your answers in the comments section!

I have a chronic pain in the ass. Technically, it is piriformis syndrome, wherein my piriformis muscle spasms, pinching my sciatic nerve. It's a nuisance, and while not generally debilitating, it hurts enough that it really drives me nuts sometimes. I've tried a lot of different things for it, but the thing that worked the longest, strangely, was pregnancy. The relaxin hormones coursing through my body caused that muscle to relax and leave my sciatic alone.

I decided to try a chiropractor last week. I've never been sold on chiropractic and I did try one once before and didn't feel like it did anything much for me, but was willing to convince myself that maybe he just wasn't a very good chiropractor.

Anyway, I went in and got manipulated on Thursday, then made a follow-up appointment for yesterday. I saw a different doctor this time, and he launched into their "Plan For Healing," which consists of two different options. One is The Patch Plan, where you go in for about 20 visits and they just fix you up so you're not in pain for a while. "But it's just a patch. What would really help you is The Cure Plan," wherein you go in for thirty visits or so, get your adjustments, and then they teach you how to stretch and exercise so you don't allow yourself to get hurt anymore.

There's very little I hate more about doctors than when they suddenly become salesmen. I nodded politely and acted interested so that I could run out the door at my soonest opportunity without him realizing I hadn't really swallowed the bait.

The part that pissed me off the most was that "The Patch Plan" was covered by my insurance. The Cure? Nope. Sorry.

QUACKERY! So now I'm back on the search. I've tried acupressure, chiropractic, massage, etc. I'm at a loss. Any suggestions for me?

Poor little Freya has the croup. She's been carrying around that awful cough for about three days now (which the Mayo Clinic website says normally only lasts three days, so knock wood), and she's running a pretty good fever to go with it. She's sluggish and fussy and wants her mommy.

It was a rough night last night--she kept coughing and waking herself (and Daddy and I) up, and then it would take her forever to get back to sleep. I'm quite pooped out, and was unfortunately at work when she took her afternoon nap. I was planning on snoozing with her after I put a couple of hours in at the office, but it wasn't meant to be, I guess.

I have hopes for tonight, but they aren't real bright. She fell asleep on the couch a half-hour ago and I managed to get her tucked in to bed. But I'm guessing she'll wake up about 8:30 and be raring to go until the wee hours.

Part of the job...it's all part of the job... Poor little kid.

I'm about to declare this the Week of Random Crap here on All I'm Saying...

1 - Go to "wikipedia." Hit “random”
or click http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Special:Random
The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.

2 - Go to "Random quotations"
or click http://www.quotationspage.com/random.php3
The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.

3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days”
or click http://www.flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days
Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.

4 - Use Photoshop (or similar) to put it all together.

5 - Post it to Facebook your blog and tag the friends you want to join in.

This would have looked a lot better if I'd actually had PhotoShop on this computer!