>I don’t recite the script in the teachers’ manual, either.

>Shortcuts. I take them all the time. In the classroom, on the road, on the computer (give me the keyboard commands and I’m faster than any mouse!), and in the kitchen.
Especially in the kitchen.

Tomato soup? I combined two recipes.

When a second batch of soup turned out a bit too bland for our tastes, we made the tomato into a base for minestrone (recipe to come, soon, I promise).

A muffin recipe with coconut, an ingredient no one but me will eat, turned into a new muffin that we all love.

I fill my crockpot more by formula and luck than by recipe.

We make planned overs as often as we leftovers; it gives us a shortcut later.

Even when I start out with a clear plan, it can change. Martha Stewart would never, ever live here.

Baking bread in the breadmaker is a shortcut. I almost feel guilty because it’s so easy. The crockpot — how would I teach and feed my family without it? One of my other favorite short cuts is starting baked potatoes in the microwave and finishing them on the grill. The cooking time is shorter, and they still get that fabulous charcoal grill taste.

This topic was suggested by Parent Bloggers Network and Ore-Ida Potatoes. Idaho may produce more potatoes than Wisconsin, but I know Ore-Ida works with my state farmers as well as those out west. My daughter loves all things potato, so if I registered early enough to get a free masher, I may have to share it with her. The coupon, though, that I’ll keep.

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>Pre-op day ramblings

>How to approach this subject without resorting to TMI mode? Metaphors and euphemisms, that’s it. Amigo (age 16) goes to the big state children’s hospital tomorrow for tummy testing. He’s preparing today, with clear liquids and the Pre-op Cocktail designed to, well, cleanse. (Oh, geez, I’m sure the spam will be tremendous on that reference)
I could tell he was nervous because his hand shook as I handed him the first glass. He was relieved it didn’t taste too bad. With the radio set up in the bathroom, he settled in for the duration while I set the timer for 20 minutes until the next dose.
The timing here is either bad or good, but not much in between. I have a nasty cold, stuffed up head, weepy eyes, and painful sinuses. If I didn’t have to stay home with Amigo, I’d probably take a sick day of my own to rest. In short, I’m feeling lousy, in need of rest, and not sure I have the strength to help the teenager deal with his pre-op anxieties. It seems like a classic case of mom taking care of everyone else first, then falling ill herself. Even though I know better, that’s my big weakness.
In between handing Amigo his every-20-minutes glass of Pre-op Cocktail, I’m dosing myself with fluids and vitamin C. I had healthy toast (whole wheat with flaxseed) with local honey for breakfast. I’m inhaling the steam before I drink my coffee; does that count? Eventually I’ll make myself some lunch, but I don’t want to make anything that Amigo will covet, since he can’t eat real food today. Eggs and toast might fit the bill: healthy basics, comfort food, nothing too exciting. Tonight it’s tomato soup and stuffed pork chops, not his favorite either. He’ll have chicken soup (no noodles) and jello. I made two flavors; lime and orange. No strawberry or raspberry; the nurse told us anything with red dye can appear in the tests and skew the results.
Meanwhile, I’ll work in the garden and the kitchen. I have schoolwork in my bag, but it’s too nice out to waste the day indoors. I opened the windows and turned off the heat, and now I’ll harvest the rest of the spinach and a batch of tomatoes if they’re ready. The math facts papers will wait; I can correct them while Amigo’s in the O.R. and recovery.
If Amigo is up to it, he can study for the World History test he’ll miss while he’s gone. After he’s done with his, um, dumping festival, he might stretch out on the couch and read the chapter once or twice. He has an ongoing novel project in the works now, too. He can work on that at the computer, which is fairly close to the Activity Room, so to speak.
We parents, moms especially, seem prone to the thought of “I have to do something! I must make this downtime worthwhile!” I still feel a bit of guilt putting off the math papers until tomorrow. Amigo will let me know if he’s not up to studying today; why can’t I be so straightforward?
Maybe that’s the enlightenment of the day. It’s not the test results tomorrow. It’s knowing that it’s okay to let things slide at work for a little while; the papers will still be there on Saturday. I can take care of myself and my teenager today.

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>Who am I?

>According to this poll, I am a social liberal, an economic liberal, and best described as (drum roll) a socialist. According to them, I “…exhibit a very well-developed sense of Right and Wrong and believe in economic fairness.” When I clicked on Famous People, my icon was very close to Barack Obama, but exactly on Hillary Clinton. According to their interpretation of political ideologies, mine was right on the edge of the socialist area, bordering on Democrat.

This was an interesting quiz in that it focused on, as they put it, “fundamental values” and “avoided the edgy party issues.”

If you’re offended by the Socialist label, please think again. Just like chocolate and coffee, all in moderation. Here’s their explanation:

For example, on the economic axis, a highly permissive system, like the American system of the early 1900s, might mean things like low taxes and increased scientific innovation. It might also result, as it did back then, in unrestricted child labor and millions of poor people with black lung. At the other end of the economic spectrum, a highly regulated system might conserve the environment, establish national health care, and eliminate poverty. But as we’ve learned from the Soviet system, extreme regulation can also lead to stagnation, sameness, and unhappiness.

In other words, balance is key. We in the U.S. of A. have high standards for government services and regulations, but we pay for those through our tax system. We are constantly looking for the perfect balance, and never quite finding it. That’s a large part of why I find all things political evolving and fascinating.

Try it yourself!

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>Muffins formerly known as Kitchen Sink

>How much does a recipe have to change before it becomes new? I looked into the refrigerator this morning, saw too many carrots and a final zucchini squash, and decided to make these. This recipe started as Kitchen Sink Muffins (courtesy of Michelle at Scribbit). With my changes it’s still recognizable, but it’s definitely different, too.

Not-so-Prosaic Mosaic Muffins

1 cup all-purpose flour
1 cup whole wheat flour
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoon baking soda
2 teaspoon cinnamon
¼ tsp. nutmeg
½ teaspoon orange peel
½ teaspoon salt
2 cup grated carrots
1 diced apple, skin on
1/2 cup raisins
½ cup crushed walnuts
½ cup grated zucchini
3 eggs or ¾ cup egg substitute
2/3 cup oil or ½ cup applesauce + ¼ cup oil
2 teaspoon pure vanilla extract

In a large bowl mix all the dry ingredients. In a medium bowl separately mix the next eight ingredients (carrots through vanilla extract). Stir the wet ingredients into the dry, mixing only until just combined. Pour into 18 lined or greased baking cups and bake at 350 degrees for 20-22 minutes.

Will wheat germ work in these? I forgot to try it. A small amount of honey might be fun, too.

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>Fortune smiles on those who — clean?

>”Mom, the computer sounds different.”
“Maybe because the speakers are no longer muffled by piles of papers.”

Yes, we cleaned the clutter. I pulled out piles and piles of papers, sorted them into piles for each of us, and then put away all of mine. Husband found the right places for all of his. Amigo’s Camp Awards went up to his room, and La Petite had a couple of items to file, too. Most of the clutter pile was mine or Husband’s. Why do we keep all this, and why was it randomly piled behind the desktop computer? No, don’t answer that. I’m sure there’s no valid response.

In the pile I found several fortunes from fortune cookies. Again, why did I keep these? For future blog post, of course! What other reason could there be?

To Decide Not to Decide is Often a Very Wise Decision.
Oh, just what I need – an excuse to be more indecisive!

Others look up to you.
Well, I’m a short person, so it can’t mean height.

An unexpected event will bring you riches.
I remember this cookie: I taped the fortune to my computer monitor at school because it turned up the day I found out my grant had been approved.

People say you have a sharp sense and superb intellect.
Do they? I’d like to think they’re right. But then again, why am I sitting around watching baseball and writing about fortune cookies? Not the most intellectual of pursuits.

Ignorance never settles a question.
It doesn’t? Why not?

The star of riches is shining upon you.
See above. This was also taped to my monitor at school. If I’m really taking the Cookie thing seriously, it might mean we’re in for more grants. Or maybe, just maybe, it means I’ll find something worth $$ in the next pile of clutter I’m bound to attack.

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>Working Mother, also known as Multi-Tasker

>Or…a typical Saturday in Daisy’s life

Make coffee.
Feed rabbit.
Read paper and have breakfast.
Chase rabbit out of La Petite’s room.
Check email, Twitters, and Plurks.
Empty dishwasher.
Sort dirty laundry. Start washing laundry.
Reload dishwasher. Again (is that redundant?).
Take out compost. Pick tomatoes. Search unsuccessfully for squirrel Husband reported was lost in garden and couldn’t get out.
Find recipe; bake muffins. Contemplate posting new variation on recipe. Print carrot cake recipe; potential use for extra carrots, now that two bunnies are gone to live with La Petite at her school apartment.
Continue laundry process while cleaning kitchen while muffins are baking.
Lunch: BLTs with L & T from garden. We’ll miss this when the first major frost comes!
Remove muffins from oven. Mmmmm.
Clean kitchen (again), continue laundry cycles (still), and start schoolwork.
Browse two books scavenged from Throw Away table in lounge. Sort out and copy several usable ideas for vocabulary instruction, math centers, readers’ workshop, and more. Recycle the rest. Teaching budgets, like all state funded budgets, will get more stringent before they’re more generous. Creative scavengers spend time, but save money. Maybe I can apply that to my own life and budget as well.
Grade penmanship papers, using star stickers scavenged from Throw Away table.
Continue laundry process (still, yet, again).
Take out recycling. How many cans and bottles can we generate in half a day? No, don’t answer that.
Fill snack basket. Remind self to bake cookies or bars. Look for easy and nutritious snack recipe.
Move old recipes to new box (scavenged, of course). Recycle old cards, recipes no longer current, and good intentions.
Correct and grade vocabulary worksheets and spelling tests.
Fold a load of clean laundry: the end is in sight!
Post three more books to Paperbackswap.com and hope someone will want or need them.
Fold more underwear and socks, my least favorite load. Amigo says “Underwear! You said underwear!” I say, “Put a sock in it, Buster.”
Wonder if I should text message Husband, who took his bike to the library, and tell him it’s getting cloudy and the storm is moving in. Nah. He’ll say I was worrying too much and whining at him. Let him get wet; he won’t melt.
Check on status of washer, fill dryer, and start planning supper, all in a few moments’ time.
Make supper, feed family, clean kitchen, make soup stock for freezer (and future), take break to watch baseball team lose. Again.
Fold yet more clothes, back up Husband as he censors Amigo’s choice of tunes on YouTube, finish wiping down kitchen table.
Drop off Amigo at Homecoming dance. Do the weekly grocery shopping, this time with two to three weeks in mind because of increasingly busy work schedules. Gawk at huge bill. Wonder who eats all this?!
Go home. Put away food. Decide that the storms can move in, pandemic flu can shut down the city, and we could still feed the family.
Pick up Amigo at dance, exhausted but happy.

Tomorrow? I’m getting tired just thinking of it.

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>Earworms! There oughta be a walk for the cure.

>Earworms. They happen to the best of us. They’re contagious. They spread. And they don’t respond to antibiotics.
No, an earworm isn’t a viral infection. It’s a song that won’t go away, the song that never ends (yes it goes on and on my friends). Oh, sorry about that.
An earworm can be one you hum under your breath, a classic tune that inspires air guitar while cooking dinner, the one you whistle in the shower, or the refrain that you belt out while behind the wheel when you’re on the road again (just can’t wait to get on the road again). Oops, I did it again.
It’s the type of song that makes a mom walk over to the computer and comment, “Oh, Rod Stewart. Classic rock!” only to be told by her teenager that it’s actually Adult Contemporary.
I truly do believe that there is a song for every occasion, and for every song, an occasion. The occasion isn’t always obvious, either.
Playoff action? Take me out to the ball game!
Waking up so early it’s still dark out? Good morning, starshine!

My hi-ho, hi-ho, it’s off to work I go anthem? Java Jive, of course. I love the java jive and it loves me.
Don’t even get started on the Wheels on the Bus song.

Tired of working, ready to go home? It’s five o’clock somewhere!

In our home, the place where the cheesehead lives on the piano, the music varies so much you’d be amazed. When Amigo was little, he was always requesting, “Mama, sing!” Now it’ s more likely to be, “Mom, stop that, we’re in public.” But within the confines of our own four walls or even our own minivan, we sing our loud, sing out strong.
Sing of good things, not bad.
Sing of happy, not sad.
Sing, sing a song, make it simple, to last your whole life loooooooong!
Don’t worry that it’s not good enough for anyone else to hear…
because —
I love you just the way you are! (Did you really think I’d make it through a songfest like this without a little Billy Joel? Not a chance!)

This post was written for Parent Bloggers Network as an entry for a contest sponsored by Bush’s Beans. Remember, no matter how much you “toot” your horn (or sax or tuba), beans are really a vegetable. In this part of the world, they grow in our team colors, too.

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>Does history repeat itself?

>I was teaching a story in the school reading textbook. The teacher’s page, full of sidebars and notes, suggested teaching the time period of this historical fiction piece.

The Great Depression: Point out the date of the letter on page 25 (August 27, 1935). Explain that this story takes place during a period known as the Great Depression, when as many as one out of four working-age people were unemployed. Many families could not afford even basic necessities. The Great Depression lasted for more than ten years. It began in 1929 and ended in the early 1940s, during World War II.

The story follows a young girl sent to live with her uncle and aunt in a faraway city while her parents seek work. As I looked out on the class, I recognized an unfortunate level of understanding in their eyes.

“As many as one out of four working-age people were unemployed….” More than half my class qualifies for free or reduced price breakfast and lunch because their families have little or no income.

“Many families could not afford even basic necessities.” I’ve provided folders, crayons, pencils and more to at least one third of my class. Only half brought in the requested box of tissues to share with the class.

“The Great Depression lasted for more than ten years.” My students are nine and ten now. Will they struggle with their families throughout their education? Will they learn what they need to in order to make their lives better? Or will they end up working dead-end jobs right out of high school or, worse yet, drop out of school?

The idea of living with relatives isn’t a foreign concept to these kids. Several are doubled up with relatives because their parents couldn’t pay the rent on a place of their own. Some are barely making it and may be evicted. The list grows for our service club’s Adopt-a-Family project even as donations decline.

It’ll take a lot more than a few Box Tops to make things right for these kids. These are the very children who need more schooling, not less. More stability, not less. Yet they’re the ones suffering the most, and they’re the ones most likely to fall further and further behind.

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>Vegetable Stew (with beef, eventually)

>I’m sorry. I can’t give you a recipe. My stews are more likely to be cooked by formula, a formula like this.
Find a little of each and every vegetable in the house, including leftovers. Don’t forget to pick a little of this and that from the garden.
Slice and dice and throw into the crockpot with a pound of stew meat and a few cups of beef stock. Simmer all day. Add gravy (or thickening, if it’s watery enough) about an hour before serving.

The photo was pre-meat and pre-stock. This particular stew includes:
From the garden: spinach, fresh green pepper, one tomato, green and yellow beans, basil
From the farm market: corn on the cob (leftover from Sunday night), red pepper, yellow pepper
From the grocery store: stew meat, a splash of Worcestershire sauce
From the freezer: beef stock

Side dishes: I’ll find something. I have that good light rye bread from the bakery, and I picked up cheese curds at the farm market, too. It’ll be a harvest festival meal!

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