A Hunting We Will Go, Well, Not Me

This is the house that Bob built.

Tis the season in Minnesota to see people dressed in bright orange and heading into the woods.

It's the deer hunting opening weekend here in my great state. Young One and D are heading up North to the family log cabin that my dad built. They'll bond, scratch, shoot stuff, and generally have a good time. It's their thing.

If my cold gets better, I'll visit my grandma and we'll have dinner with the hunters on Saturday night. Can't go exposing her to the germs, so I'm hoping this is short lived. If I'm still sniffling, I'll stay home and have some alone time.

And Somewhere in the Middle Lies the Truth

Warning, you're all gonna die. Details after this commercial break...

The Swine Hysteria is getting to me.

On one side we have the "if it bleeds, it leads" news programming that is gaining momentum. On the other, the fear mongers touting the misuse of vaccinations, the fear of Thimerosol and other injection preservatives.

I don't know who to believe.

I sat through Teresa Forcades' video with a skeptical mind. She does touch on some truths that we should be alarmed about. The changing of the definition of pandemic by the World Health Organization must be addressed.

Some of the journal articles she quotes do not exist. BUT, she opens another side to discussion and for us to make educated decisions about whether or not to vaccinate.

I'm most certain someone is currently fact checking Forcades' claims, I look forward to that. In the meantime, does it surprise anyone that drug companies are requiring that no one is able to seek compensation for injection related injury? That's almost become standard now and yet so many just sit by and watch it happen.

I'm leaning towards regular influenza vaccination and not the Swine. I think that's already struck here, but I have no definitive proof.

Please take some time to wade through Teresa's videos. They are difficult, I know, but we need to hear more from "the other side"

On the Porch

Happy Harvest! I took it upon myself to go totally Martha on a bunch of squash.

Before








During





After

Take a phantom, Snake (an army dude from a video game), a monster, and Harry Potter. Mix with fresh, chilly Fall air. Sprinkle throughout a neighborhood, add candy liberally. Garnish with pumpkins and finish with a nap on the couch.

That's one great recipe for a Happy Halloween.

7 pounds of candy, most of it forgotten by now. We'll donate to a worthy cause. The smiles and the memories, now that's what was really collected.

Connecting Over a Cup

A long time ago, I had a conversation with a dear one about coffee. I have a deep love affair with my morning Joe. I cheat on my husband with him daily. I sometimes think about him as I fall asleep. Freshly ground, deep, dark, rich coffee. It's my morning ritual and my day is not complete without several cups.

Hot in the morning, iced in the afternoon. Or a hot mug, always present, Joe never lets me down.

My dear one, whom I mentioned earlier, couldn't imagine paying close to $5 for a cup of coffee. "Heck," he said, "I don't even pay that for a pot of coffee." "I hardly pay that for a pound," he went on.

Now, as I've also mentioned, I'm a coffee lover. I made a pilgrimage to Kona just to see the beans on their native hillside. I almost didn't leave the island because of it.

"You're not paying for the coffee," I said in an instant of inspiration. "You're paying for a meeting place, the ability to park at a table and read, write, work, or connect."

And, you know what? I was right.

I spent four hours recently connecting with two other moms across the table, while holding steaming cups of almost $5 coffee. We more than profited from the investment. We bought time. Time away from our daily grind, time to share joys and challenges. Time to laugh and support, commiserate and bond.

Worth every penny.

I'm a bit of a cheapskate. I invest only in things that really mean something to me. I don't cruise the mall, I frequent thrift stores, I cut coupons, and I pinch pennies until they scream. Pay $5 for a cup of coffee? No way. Pay $5 to park at a table and connect with other moms?

You bet your bottom dollar.

Happy Halloween!

Today is all about pure, guilt-free joy. Eat lots of candy, smile and laugh a lot, talk to lots of neighbors, kick a pile of leaves, wonder at a pumpkin carving worth of a museum, get a belly ache from too much candy corn, sip hot cider, marvel at how some of the kids can walk in their costumes, count the vampires and the Britneys, make a kid's night by emptying your candy bowl into his bag, savor the smiles.

My dad died five years ago today. The anniversary of his death reminds me that life is short, eat the candy, celebrate the happiness without any guilt. Set aside your worries and enjoy the joy. My dad always wished that he had done more of that. His greatest regret, shared with me on his last lucid day stays with me.

I'm not down today. I'm happy that this day is pure kid enjoyment from top to bottom. Dad would like it that way.

Evolving and Revolving

.Scootin' away to a friend's house and then coming back home again. Those out of my sight trips teach us both so much.

I remember when I was a new mother. I was all about breastfeeding, attachment parenting, and completely immersed in mommydom. Our little world was small, population 2, with a third that came and went as his career allowed.

Bit by bit, we left that town, and joined the masses. It didn't happen in leaps and bounds, and I wasn't dragged kicking and screaming, hoping to remain.

Growing up and becoming independent is an unstoppable evolution. Sometimes, when I speak with mothers who fight it, I wonder why, but more importantly, how do they do it?

Since birth, Young One has made the unstoppable journey to independence and I've reveled in it. That's not to say I don't get a little teary and long for the days that his little hand sought out mine! Those days are over and with their passing comes new tender moments. He needs me differently, and sometimes in better ways. Less physical, more spiritual.

Attachment parenting became a trendy term a long time ago. Honestly, those that subscribe to it really don't need to name it. Attachment parenting simply means to be in tune and connected with your kid. I don't know many moms who aren't, so to attach (pun intended) the term really seems silly to me.

Call it my own Mommy evolution. I needed those terms when Young One was younger to feel validated. I needed to name my parenting style. It didn't last long for me. I wasn't a vigilante breastfeeder. Young One weaned himself. I didn't get caught up in the mommy wars of I'm better than you are because I _____________. (Fill in the blank with: feed all organic food, weave my own diapers from hemp and recycled newspapers or what have you.) But, I had the need back then to focus completely in. At the time, I couldn't see out of the box I had put myself in.

Now, looking back, I find a lot of it funny. I'm seeing that part of me again in younger mothers. It must be a necessary part of the journey. What I've gained from it is to look to more experienced mothers when I'm struggling with whatever phase we're in. I wish I would have done more of that when I was a younger mom.

Like I said, I couldn't see outside my little world and now, when I see that in others, it gets to me. I want to shake them and say, this time in their lives is so fleeting. Look outside your world and look to the future. Your birth experience, your breastfeeding, they're just blips on the radar of motherhood. They don't define you as much as you think they do and they certainly don't define you for as long as you think they will.

When your children reach out for independence, as they are genetically driven to do, you've got to step back from your own agendas and let them fly. Your attachment in the early years will serve them well if you did your job right. They'll return again and again, just in a very different way.

We humans seem to have the need to label things. Wrap them up in tight little boxes tagged with a judgment. We do it to ourselves, we do it to each other. I can't solve it, I know, but I can cut the string those neat little boxes are wrapped up with. I can look closer at my own label, the one I put on myself and the ones others put on me. And I can create a new one.

This self reflection is getting a little too deep and it's taken up the time I should have could have would have made dinner. Thank God for the forethought to stick something in the crock pot. Tonight's it's pork roast, with crumbled freshly dried herbs and lemon peel. Yum.

Lemon Peel Pork Roast

3-5 lb pork loin roast, boneless or bone-in

1 head of garlic

1 whole lemon

your favorite herbs: I used freshly dried herbs from my CSA, rosemary and thyme, about 1 tsp each

1 tsp salt

freshly ground black pepper to taste

Cut slits into pork roast and insert peeled garlic cloves, as many as you like or your family can stand! Zest your lemon into a small bowl. Crumble dried herbs into the bowl and mix all with salt and pepper. Rub or sprinkle onto pork roast. Cook on low 8-10 hours or until someone in your family says, "I'm starving, when do we eat?" Roast is done when it's internal temp is 165 degrees. If it's cooked all day, it will fall apart, so don't serve this if you want an impressive roast to carve at the table.