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Despite the 90 degree heat, Amigo boogied down outside US Cellular Stadium before a White Sox game. The band was playing classics from Chicago and Blood, Sweat, and Tears — the kind of tunes that warmed this baby boomer’s heart. He’s fifteen, and he shows that whether it’s baby boomer favorites or baby disco, you’re never too old or too young to enjoy moving to the music.
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>I have hidden zucchini in spaghetti sauce, muffins (raspberry/blueberry), chili, meatballs, chicken stew, and more.
I have used zucchini openly, without subterfuge, in chocolate zucchini cake, sliced it thin with potatoes and a little basil and grilled it (mmm), and of course, the ever popular zucchini bread.
(–adapted slightly from the Good Home Cookbook)
Mom’s Melt-in-your-mouth Zucchini Bread
2 cups all purpose flour
1 cup whole-wheat flour
1 1/4 teaspoons baking powder
1 teaspoon baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
2 teaspoons ground cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2/3 cup oil
2 1/2 cup sugar
3 large eggs or 3/4 cup egg substitute
2 cups grated zucchini
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
(Optional add-ins: chocolate chips, raisins, craisins (dried cranberries), walnuts: 2/3 to 1 cup each)
1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 8×4 inch loaf pans.
2. Stir together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, salt, cinnamon, and nutmeg in a medium bowl. Set aside.
3. Combine the oil and sugar in a large bowl and beat until light. Add the eggs, one at a time, beating well after each addition. Stir in the zucchini and vanilla extract. (Add optional ingredients here) Add the flour mixture and stir just enough to combine. Pour the batter into the prepared loaf pans.
4. Bake for about 1 hour. Test with toothpick for doneness.
5. Cool in the pans on a wire rack for 10 minutes, then remove from pans and cool completely before serving.
6. Guard the kitchen carefully. The aroma will attract random teenagers and neighbors to knock on your door, remarking, “Ooh, something smells good!”
Tips and options: I’ve made this with egg substitute, and I’ve had success reducing the oil in a variety of ways. I’ve used 1/2 cup applesauce and 1/4 to 1/3 cup oil. I’ve also tried 1/2 cup oil and 1/3 cup butter or margarine (sticks), softened.
I haven’t tried this recipe as muffins yet. Maybe tomorrow — I just picked two good-sized squash today.
>Compost. It cuts down (significantly) on the amount of kitchen garbage. It gives my garden soil an extra boost of nourishment. It cuts down on our trips to the brush dump and leaves fewer leaves for the city trucks to pick up.
There are specific “recipes” a home composter can use, but I’m pretty easy about it. If the compost is too dry, I add more wet ingredients (and I use the term ingredients loosely). If it’s too wet, I start adding dry ingredients like dried grass clippings. But right now, the decomposition is not happening smoothly.
Husband added a batch of wet grass clippings after he mowed the lawn last. This usually works great; the heat of the pile increases, speeding up the process, and the grass itself decomposes quickly. This time, though, the Week of Constant Rain hit the Midwest.
The additional moisture made the grass clump together, develop mildew, and stink.
The continuous rain made any other dry ingredients that were set aside, well, just as wet as the grass clippings.
The result: Eeew.
Today I’ll add the usual kitchen waste and stir what I can to separate the clumps of green and, um, grey-green. If the sun stays out, there may be hope for a few dry stacks from the beyond-bloom daylilies and other past-their-prime perennials.
But even if I don’t “fix” it, eventually, next spring some time, I’ll have a pile of luscious, deep brown compost to mix with my garden soil. No complaints here. Compost, no matter what I do, will happen.
>Dear Transport;
We’ve been through a lot together, you and me. We’ve driven the family on trips, taken vanloads of kids to movies, taken our turn in the grad school car pool, and even moved a child to college. Well, I’ve got to be honest. There are good and bad points in our relationship.
On the good side:
You’re roomy. We can seat eight, including the driver. That’s come in handy many times.
You’re heated and air conditioned. They’re both important in our fair state with its weird weather.
The dark green color absorbs heat in winter, but the lighter colored upholstery doesn’t overheat in summer.
Mom Car you may be, but Husband has transported equipment to model train shows and Amigo’s big recumbent three-wheeler fits in the back, too. You’re an equal opportunity vehicle.
You’ve shown some real longevity, still dependable after 105,000 miles on the road.
But then again, on the other hand:
You know how Amigo asks for the Transport Weather Report, and I read the temperature printout and compass reading to him? Well, it would be nice if the temperature were accurate more often. Today you thought it was 54 degrees outside, but the real temperature was closer to 75. I’m not asking for heat index or wind chill; a simple ballpark figure would do.
What’s with the radio button getting so finicky? I seem to be the only one who can turn it on or off in one try.
Oh, and the wipers and cruise control along with the high beam control all on the left turn signal bar, that’s a little too much. Next model, please put a few controls elsewhere for easier handling.
But overall, my dear minivan, I must say our relationship is stable. My complaints are minimal; they’re issues I can live with.
If I went to AskPatty, the car site for women, I’d give you a pretty good review.
AskPatty has recently launched CarBlabber, a place for women to write about their cars – the good, bad, and ugly – and to learn what other women think of their own cars. Or, in my case, to Blabber about the Mom Van. 🙂
>Upon unpacking boxes of materials in my new classroom, the following questions arose.
Why do I own a world map that includes the USSR? The Soviet Union collapsed before I started teaching!
Where’s the coffeepot in this building?
How many boxes do I need to open with my fingernails before finding my scissors?
Why are so many boxes are labeled DESK? Do I really own that many pens and paper clips?
How is it that the posters that took up four large drawers last year all fit in one drawer now? Oh, I guess I missed a box. Or two.
In which corner does my flag go?
Do all new teachers get the ugliest file cabinets? I’m not really new. Really, I’m not.
Where’s the nearest printer? And where’s the color printer?
Can I fit my four computers on two tables so that I have room for books and kids in the Book Nook corner?
Can I throw away the ancient styrofoam cups stored in the cupboard?
Did my supply order come in? What do you mean, what supply order?
Where is the file of my sent emails under budget?
When can I go home?
And the rest of the story: Yes, I threw away the outdated map. The media specialist led me to the printers. I re-wrote the missing purchase order, using details from my files. We have a gem of a secretary, and she started the wheels turning as soon as I gave her the specs. Hopefully, I’ll have everything soon after school starts.
>Damage Control. The phrase can imply politics (no names need be mentioned), it can mean a major recall (lead tainted toys anyone?). It can be as simple as an “Oops, my bad” or as complex as impeachment or censure.
Damage Control: Women on the therapists, beauticians, and trainers who navigate their bodies is none of these, but it has moments both as light and as serious as any Spin Doctor could imagine. Editor Emma Forrest collected essays from women, both ordinary and well-known, about the specialists, the “intimate strangers” who deal with their every whim and may end up knowing their deepest secrets. It’s a book that covers not the beauty industry, but women themselves: self-image, confidence, trust, and more.
Damage Control is divided into sections.
“Hair Grows (or you live and you learn)” reminded me that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence; many, many women covet the hair they don’t have. Got curls? Desire straight. Got straight? Pay big bucks for perms. For what purpose? These essays vary in tone from the content to the heartbroken, from the traditional beauties to those who seek to recognize and find peace with their own style.
“Fidel Castro’s Filthy Nails (or On Beauty Etiquette)” has a catchy title, but its contents have more to do with nails than with dictators. The surrogate therapist role appears here; the professional who listens to the heartaches, the highs and the lows of life while fixing hair or skin or nails. Examples are sprinkled throughout showing the way some women develop lifetime relationships, friendships that rival family ties, with stylists and other beauty professionals.
“Fix Me” and “Unhand me, Fiend” continue delving beneath the surface of the massage or the facial, telling of the personal discontent that leads many women through years of body work, chiropractic, reflexology, even plastic surgery.
“Wax Poetic” deals with exactly what it implies: Waxing. Hair removal. Not just legs and underarms….Looking for details? Sorry. My mother reads this blog!
The bookcover is clever and eye-catching; my artist/photographer daughter picked it up, admired the design, and paged through the chapters. The introduction is thorough and thoughtful, setting the tone for the collection as a whole. As I read the book, I found myself approaching one or two pieces at a time, then sitting back and thinking about them. This is a book that could live on my shelf for a while, one I could pick up now and then to read on part or another, not feeling pressure to hurry or rush.
Harper-Collins Publishing sent me a free copy of this book in exchange for reading it and posting a review. I’m due for a haircut soon. I think Rachel, my stylist, would enjoy it, so I’ll pass it on to her.
>Another Saturday night full of fun and games! Brewers and Packers both won, so the Hot Dog guy is celebrating by wearing the cheesehead. Did anyone else see Mike Holmgren’s face after that return with multiple holding penalties? Whoa.
Yes, we all went to bed happy, with smiles like this. 
>I’m seeing school supply tips all over the blogosphere. Suddenly Frugal talked about it. Mir at Wantnot even found a Back to School deal from PayPal. Others either agonized over the purchases or moaned over the time and money spent. Really, I’m not kidding, there are ways to outfit the family for school without breaking the bank. Trust me. I’ve been outfitting entire classes for 13 years.
Think of the basic 3 Rs: Reduce, Reuse, Recycle. Reuse: a good quality backpack will last several years, reducing your time investment and your frustration while you reuse it. We sent Amigo’s Jansport backpack in for repairs last summer, free of charge. It’s worth the investment. Recycle your children’s art projects. When you’re done displaying them on your own refrigerator, send them to Grandma’s refrigerator door.
Stock up. That sounds backward, but it isn’t. School supplies are cheaper right now than they will be in January when your child’s science folder breaks into pieces. Buy two of everything now. You’ll be glad later.
Reuse. Scissors, rulers, pencil cases, binders, and more, can last for more than one year. I used hand-me-down supplies when I went through graduate school. Honestly, I never bought a folder or binder or notebook; we had plenty in the house already. It was fun using La Petite’s old pencil case from middle school, decorated with sketches and doodles of rabbits, when sitting in a serious curriculum theory class. The professor probably wondered why I kept smiling.
Read the sale ads. I stocked up on supplies for my class’ Writers’ Workshop last week at Target. They had composition books at 2 for $1, while the office supply store down the street still priced them at $2 apiece. Tar-jay had cute notebooks, too; I went back later with La Petite. She bought color-coordinated notebooks in several sizes for her upcoming journalism classes.
Writing this post reminds me that I have work to do. I need to browse through the reading textbook for fourth grade before I relax and do any pleasure reading. Back to work; I’ll be setting up my classroom soon.
