Monthly Archives: November 2009

>What is Compost Happens all about? My elevator pitch in rough draft

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Who am I? I’m Daisy, and this is my blog. I write it, I maintain it, and I hope you enjoy reading it. Once in a while, I make changes. Unless we’re professional bloggers by trade (and some are), any of us in the blogsphere will change what we can and spend time within reason to keep our blogs unique and good quality.

Last summer the buzz for bloggers included creating an elevator pitch. For example, if you were in an elevator at the BlogHer conference and you had to quickly describe your blog, what would you say? Here’s my first attempt:

Compost Happens is a personal blog: part family, part garden, part eco-consciousness. It chronicles my home life, teaching life, coffee, garden, …. oh, darn it, this is getting too wordy.

Okay, here goes again.

Compost Happens is a personal blog: part family, part garden, part crunchy green eco-writer. I’m Daisy, and I’m the groundskeeper here. I take care of family, garden, and coffee, when I’m not teaching and doing laundry.

That’s a little better, but it’s still a rough draft. Should I mention A Mother’s Garden of Verses or Mid-Century Modern Moms? Maybe. Now I’m thinking and revising, and that can only lead to positive changes.

Any changes, however, need to retain the integrity of the blog. Reviews, for example. The FCC is now regulating bloggers’ reviews, calling for clear disclosure of donated items and paid posts. Frankly, BlogHer ads have always required that kind of disclosure; it’s not new. Mothertalk/ MomCentral, unfortunately, is getting some negative exposure. I commented on a post related to integrity of reviews, and the emails came flooding in.

When I posted an honest review of James Patterson’s Dangerous Days of Daniel X, Mothertalk quoted a select few lines that made my post sound neutral, if not positive.
When I reviewed Return to Sullivan’s Island, I was again honest. Mothertalk asked me to change the review. I modified a few lines, but I could not make the book sound good. It just wasn’t. In fact, the first Sullivan’s Island was so much better I wondered if the author had really written the sequel.
Since then, I’ve been blocked from doing further book reviews.

Mothertalk/ MomCentral doesn’t seem to get it. Glowing sugar-coated reviews are not credible. If I encourage people to read a book, it’ll be worth their time. I’m a teacher, published in professional journals, a teacher of reading and writing, an educated reviewer. By telling me to change a review or not post it, they compromise their site’s integrity.

Frankly, I don’t plan to compromise mine.

Compost Happens is a personal blog; part family, part garden, part crunchy green eco-writer. I’m Daisy, and I’m the groundskeeper, taking care of family, garden, and coffee. I post honestly and straight from the heart. Count on it.
Like it or not.

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What is Normal? Who is Normal?

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“But you seem so normal!” It was a phrase in a post from Deafmom, a post she titled “You’re not really deaf, are you?” This one got me thinking – a dangerous pastime, I know.

Normal = neuro-typical, non disabled.
Normal = typical, following the norm.
Normal = expected, unsurprising.
Normal = cool forehead, no fever.
Normal = just another sheep following the herd.

Is Normal good or bad? Is Normal something in between? Is Normal a comfort level, don’t rock the boat, or is Normal that’s-the-way-we’ve-always-done-it?

  • Does Normal have an IEP (Individualized Education Plan)?
  • Does Normal need an adapted cell phone?
  • Does Normal stay in the background or insist on action?
  • Is Normal pink, red, or mauve?
  • Does Normal get on the right track, just stand there and wait to get run over?
  • Does Normal slow for yellow lights or speed up?
  • Does Normal walk to school or take her lunch?

The last one is the really telling question. “Normal” in the sense of non-disabled or neuro-typical is a label that doesn’t really make sense. It implies that the disabled person is someone out of the norm, out of the mainstream, off the track. It implies that the person with a disability isn’t one of the crowd, sticks out, doesn’t belong.

“Normal” doesn’t need to go the way of the R-word (retarded). Normal is, after all, a city in Illinois. But all of us, not just the so-called Normal folk, need to think before we speak. Telling a disabled person that they are not Normal is inaccurate, hurtful, and just wrong.

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>Thinking of Thanksgiving

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>The random thoughts that come with Thanksgiving planning sometimes surprise even me, the blogger with a category label for Random Thoughts.

Let’s try an organic heirloom turkey this year! Last year the Fabled Fairies earned a Butterball coupon (or two). This year we noticed an ad for a nearby meat market and their turkeys and decided it was worth a try. Local business (all of 6 blocks away), quality product (we’ve bought their sausages and pork chops and other meats in the past), what’s not to like? If we decide we prefer the (gulp) mass-produced meat, we’ll go back to it next year. But seriously, I hope not. A few more dollars on a special turkey will be dollars well spent.

Brother and Sister-in-law will be staying at their Chicago-area home this year. They’re expecting a tiny new addition to the family, and mama-to-be may feel uncomfortable fitting into a seatbelt. Staying home will allow her to relax and maybe, just maybe, start timing contractions in the comfort of her own home. We’ll host a slightly smaller party: our own nuclear family, including La-Petite-home-from-school, my mom and stepdad, and Chuck’s parents.

Sister-in-law usually brings the pies; maybe it’s time to try the bakery down the road from the meat market. I love to bake, but pies are not my specialty, and I don’t think a mixed-berry dump cake would fit the Thanksgiving menu.

Now I just need to decide if we’re having rootmash or regular mashed potatoes – or both. Opinions? Preferences?

Yes, I KNOW there’s a Packer game. Chuck is thankful that it’s in Detroit; he’d have to work if the game were at Lambeau Field. We’ll plan our dinnertime around it, and squeeze a radio into the kitchen so the cooks don’t miss a play.

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>Basic Wheat Bread for the bread machine

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>Wheat bread is usually more dense and heavier than it’s fluffy white counterpart because the flour is lower in gluten than regular bread flour. This bread machine’s instruction book suggests vital whole wheat gluten as part of any wheat bread. I found gluten at a natural foods store after searching the aisles of two large groceries. I advise you to call ahead and save yourself a trip! The gluten helps the bread rise better. Now that I’ve tried it in this straight wheat recipe, I’ll adapt it into my mixed white/wheat and the honey wheat with oats bread that Margalit shared with me.

The wheat cycle may start with a rest period to let the flours & grains absorb the liquid ingredients, softening slightly before mixing and rising. The bread is still more dense than the standard white, but that’s exactly why it’s so good.

Whole Wheat Bread with Gluten

1 1/4 cup water (warm)
2 1/2 Tablespoons oil (I prefer olive oil)
2 1/2 Tablespoons molasses (if you measure the oil first, the molasses will slide right off the measuring spoons!
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
2 Tablespoons dry milk
3 3/4 cup whole wheat flour
1 1/2 Tablespoons Gluten
2 teaspoons active dry yeast

Bake on whole wheat cycle.

I served this as a side (chili was the main course) with a variety of spreads and toppings. I had honey (sweet, local, and delicious) on mine. La Petite chose Nutella. Husband (a.k.a. Chuck) chose honey as well. The other options were jelly, peanut butter, or plain butter. No matter how we topped it, the bread was delicious.

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>The frugal and green teacher: room decor edition

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>One more sign of a frugal and green teacher: low- and no-cost room decor. First, train pictures illustrate our theme of “All Aboard the Fourth Grade Express!” The pictures are from an old calendar.

Demonstrate expectations like headings for written work and make a poster from the demo. Materials: two scraps of chart paper, a piece of leftover tagboard, and a blank flash card. Yes, I often use book characters as examples. It’s a literary and entertaining attention-getter.

And the fall foliage, large size, scavenged from the give-aways when another teacher retired. These are two-sided; they look great from the school’s front lawn.


Then there’s poster fun: using tagboard already in stock, an overhead projector, and clip art, a little creativity makes a world of difference and saves a bunch of money.

Is there more in the NaBloPoMo edition of the Frugal and Green Teacher? You’ll have to click back next Monday to find out.

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>Think locally: economic impact of the NFL

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>Family and friends know that I back the Green Bay Packers, win or lose. I dress in their colors from head to toe. Chuck earns a portion of his income at Lambeau Field each year. We’re not season ticket holders; the legendary waiting list is too long to consider. We take our enjoyment of the game in our living rooms, texting or g-chatting our reactions to La Petite on her college campus.

La Petite spent her first nine years living in the shadow of Lambeau Field, on the corner of Oneida Street and the aptly-named Stadium Drive. She learned to ride a bike in the Packers’ parking lot, and learned about entrepreneurship with her lemonade stand during training camp. She’s in her twenties now and training to be a photojournalist, and she spent a day job-shadowing at a pre-season game. That’s one awesome “Take Your Kid to Work Day!”


Now one of my favorite green sites has recognized the economic value of a local football team. Most NFL teams belong to a single wealthy investor. The Green Bay Packers belong to individual stockholders, among them many Wisconsin residents. The stock has emotional value only; no dividends. Stockholders attend an annual meeting (at Lambeau Field, of course), but have no say in team decisions.

Mother Nature Network posts green news and views every day. This weekend, they included a guest post about local economies and, you guessed it, the Green Bay Packers. Win or lose on the field, the team has a great impact on the people of Green Bay and Wisconsin.

When you add into the equation the idea that Chuck does most of his Christmas shopping at the Packer Pro Shop, it’s easy to see the impact. I think I’ll go get our cheesehead hat and get ready to watch them play the Cowboys! Cringe. Wisconsin native Tony Romo might just tear my green and gold team to pieces.

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>A Tree with a History

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>This tree was tall. It was born as a hybrid, created to be a pulp tree for the paper industry. It grew quickly, spread its seeds quickly (we pulled out its descendants every spring), and reached for the sky amidst the other trees in our old, historic neighborhood. It fell not to a lumbering crew, but to an urban tree crew with chainsaws and ropes.


The scientist who once lived in the house across the street experimented with trees, combined the cottonwood and poplar, created a successful cross-breed for his industry and planted one in his front yard. That tree was a climber for the kids, a host for birds’ nests, and a favorite route for traveling squirrels. But in the last year or two, it was leaning, stooping like an elderly grandparent reluctant to use a walker. Every storm would drop a few branches in the yard or the street, and the family was nervous. What would it take to knock this once-stately old giant into a home? At its size, it could take two or three homes with it if it fell.


So the humans took it down before the winter winds could do it. In keeping with the legend and the memories, Chuck and I salvaged several pieces. Chuck sliced a few thin for me; I’ll take them into my classroom. My students can look at the rings, analyze the age of the tree, and imagine the history it has seen.


A teacher down the hall is an expert in forestry. She’s offered to look over the rings and help me interpret. In exchange, I’ll share the rich stories of the tree, its developers, and its fans.

It’s not Aldo Leopold’s old oak, but this tree is special. A few small pieces are on the woodpile, but there’s more than firewood in this gentle giant.

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>Random acts of Fridayness

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>Last Friday was so full of random occurrences, I couldn’t write a straightforward blog post to describe the day. Even attempting a chronological day wouldn’t make sense. So…. here goes, in no particular order.

Random Acts of Fridayness

While I was in the kitchen putting together Twice Baked Potatoes and pork chops, Amigo was listening to old time radio dramas. “Mom, this one is Dinah Shore. Groucho Marx just invited her over for dinner.”

Near the end of the school day, a coworker burst into the room and told me that her son, a fighter pilot, would be in the flyover at the upcoming Packers game in Tampa Bay. She (my coworker, not the pilot) is a total non-sports person. This may be the first time in her life that she voluntarily watched a football game!

My fortune cookie at lunch told me that I’d be having a close encounter of a positive kind.

A substitute teacher, in for two weeks for a teacher who was hit hard by H1N1, brought me Starbucks (16 oz. Pike Place blend, black) as a thank you for helping her with science plans.

I pulled up to Jo to Go this morning and the barista (should that have two r’s?) knew what I wanted: 16 oz. hazelnut, black.

Chuck thought he might have to work late, but the newsroom was able to cover the stories without sending him out with the satellite truck.

Daughter sent word by g-chat that her computer now gets internet in her apartment. It’s not really a fix, more of a patch, but she was able to chat with her mother on a Friday night. A techie friend came over and helped her connect.

In conclusion, despite the lack of order in the recounting, it was a good Friday. Now the suspense: will such a day happen again? Will Daisy have a pleasant Friday ever again? One that’s eminently bloggable? Stay tuned, readers, and we’ll see if there’s another day packed with random acts worth reporting in the life of Compost Happens.

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>Preparing for winter, thinking of spring

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>The chairs are stacked, and the cushions are stowed away in the basement.

The new composter is set up on bricks, within reach of the driveway. I will actually be able to compost coffee grounds and filters all winter long!

I’m still thinking about the old bunny hutch. The hutch is old, not the bunnies. Our pet rabbits have house privileges now; we don’t use the hutch any more. I’ve been stashing my garden tools there. The debate: should I take down the hutch completely? The rhubarb could expand into this area. Or should I keep it, take off or repair the doors so it’s more usable? I think I’ll decide in the spring.

Still to be done: put away the little cello-playing frog (hiding behind white roses) and take care of the roses. The rosebush on the right is a knock-out breed; according to my current information (provided by my mother) it doesn’t need to be cut back and insulated for the winter. It’s trying to send up one more bloom before the snow comes. Should I chance it?

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>Open Sesame — Street, that is.

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One of my favorite lines in the original Muppet Movie is Big Bird’s response when Kermit and Fozzie offer him a ride to Hollywood. “No, thanks. I’m on my way to New York to break into Public Television.” Anyone watching the movie knows Big Bird and knows where he’s going. Can you tell him how to get to Sesame Street?

When we were in Seattle last July, Chuck and I visited a traveling exhibit of Jim Henson’s Muppets. Sesame Street, the Muppet Show, early commercials – you name it, it was covered. I couldn’t take pictures inside the exhibit, so we took pictures (of course) of the advertising on the way in and on the way out. How to get to Sesame Street, in my book, leads straight to Jim Henson, with a good helping of Joe Raposo’s tunes on the side.

And if muppet memories aren’t enough, go visit Mir at Wantnot. She’s doing her best to give away a DVD called Sesame Street: 40 Years of Sunny Days. Her contest expires tonight, so go on!

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