Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 18:54
blueberry pancakes + pancake 101
http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/smittenkitchen/~3/346802894/ http://smittenkitchen.com/2008/07/blueberry-pancakes-pancake-101/ 
In the Great Deposit of Food Phobias post, a few of you said that you were afraid of making pancakes and my instant un-asked-for retort is that you all clearly didn’t grow up in my house, where I am pretty sure that knowing when to flip a pancake was one of the first cooking tricks I ever learned.
Mom made pancakes at least a couple weekends a month, and was loyal to the Joy of Cooking recipe, a page so batter-stained and grimy, I am pretty sure the book falls open to it even when the red ribbon isn’t at that page, which is never. And though I promise not to judge you, please, whatever you do, don’t say that Shmisquick word to my mother. It upsets her. I still remember sleeping over my friend’s house and coming over and saying that her mom made pancakes for breakfast, and that they were okay.
“Pfft,” my mother said. “She uses [that word that rhymes with Shmisquick].”
Mom was ruthless, and apparently I wasn’t much better. In college, my friends and I took to driving out to the 24-hour IHOP in Arlington whenever it struck our fancy, but I never ordered pancakes. At IHOP. Because they tasted like they were from a mix. And my mother, rather than discouraging the “Pancake Snob” label my friends were giving me, beamed with pride.
But that’s enough about all the ways my mother poisoned me against anything but homemade things. I’d much rather take you on a tour of how easy pancakes can be.
10 Pancake Tips
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Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 18:01
Things That Come After 69
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 20:33
Brev från en träningsnovis
Kära Carl Lewis,
Nu har jag haft din (ja, inte personligen utan mer marknadsföringsmässigt) crosstrainer i min ägo i två dagar. Jag köpte den visserligen begagnad, "nästan oanvänd" som det brukar heta både om dina och dina konkurrenters träningsmaskiner. Det är fantastiskt hur många som köper en dylik maskin, och sedan står den bara och samlar damm i ett halvår innan man till slut tröttnar och säljer bort den billigt.
Jag är tjock och otränad, det ska medges. Jag orkar dock att cykla 1,5 mil på 45 minuter, om vädret är med mig. Enligt rekommendationen ska man göra ett pass på 30 minuter om dagen för att det ska ge bra resultat. Första gången jag klev på din maskin orkade jag 30 sekunder! Sedan fick jag träningsvärk i lårmusklerna, trots att jag hade den ställd på näst lägsta motståndet.
Idag har jag kört ett flertal pass, och kommer som bäst upp i fem minuter kontinuerlig träning innan jag måste kliva av. Då svettas jag dessutom som en tokig. Det är fortfarande en bra bit från 20-30 minuter, men ... jag är lite stolt över mig själv som har tiodubblat min förmåga på två dagar. :-D Är inte du det? Nästa mål är att träna regelbundet och kanske uppnå 10 minuter utan paus. Jag intalar mig att 4x5 minuter under loppet av några timmar måste vara bättre än inget alls.
Vi får se hur länge du och jag håller kontakten. Du står där så ståtligt i mitt sovrum, och ännu har jag ju inte tröttnat, men vem vet hur läget är om två veckor? Tills dess: vi hörs!
PS: Jag tror att ditt personliga rekord på 100 meter löpning är typ 9.86 sekunder eller så? Jag har inte för avsikt att försöka slå det, så du kan vara lugn, Calle lilla!
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 18:00
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 20:20
The goat days of summer ...
Another picture of Tage, sent by Olof from Stockholm: 
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 19:46
Skansen nummer 2
http://mias.blogg.se/2008/july/skansen-nummer-2.html (English below) Här är film nummer två från Skansen, med djuren! En del klipp är nog lite väl långa, men jag kunde inte låta bli eftersom de är så söta. Klippen är faktiskt kortade en hel del som det är. Tyvärr hade katterna gömt sig för alla jobbiga tvåbenta som kom och skulle stirra på dem. Så jag kunde inte fånga några på film. Skansen, djuren / Skansen, the animals from MTEvideo on Vimeo.
English:Here is film number two from Skansen, with the animals. Some clips are probably a bit too long, but I couldn't help keeping them because they are so cute. They are actually shortened quite a bit as they are. Unfortunately the cats had hidden away from all the annoying two-legs who came to stare at them. So I couldn't catch any of them on film. Skansen, djuren / Skansen, the animals from MTEvideo on Vimeo.
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 18:47
Brakes 3 - 1 Solihull Moors
The teams ran out to some modern pop song that began with the words ‘Let’s get ready to rumble’, to which a Moors supporter was heard to say, ‘it’s only a friendly’. Later on he was heard to shout, ‘There’s no such thing as a friendly’ and, no doubt, was back to, ‘it’s only a friendly’ by full time.
After 97 seconds of the game I thought that we were going to be overrun by a classy Conference North Side, but by 124 seconds or so, we were 1 – 0 to the good with a goal from Bellingham. After 240 seconds it was 1 – 1 and, with the sun high in the sky and the heat almost unbearable for a pale skinned Welsh boy like myself, I was worried that the game might fizzle out before it got going. Lord knows why I though that though, perhaps it was the hundreds of midges that seemed to be emanating from the ear canals of Dodgy Dicky Edy and attaching themselves to the lenses of my glasses that put me off, or the ones that went in my hair and down the back of my t-shirt. It was quite odd as myself, Dodgy-D and Pete were the only ones who seemed to be being bothered by them. We must taste good.
It was good to see Marcus Jackson back in a Brakes shirt after his trial at Hinkley. I don’t think he’s actually signed for us as yet and, bearing in mind that he’s only been at any club for about a season, there’s no guarantee that he will, however, the signs are looking favourable. Marcus went off early after receiving an elbow to the hip that left him hobbling but hopefully it won’t be a long term injury.
Back to the game and Bellingham made it 2 – 1 and then, almost inevitably, 3 – 1 as he found himself free on the left, ran towards goal at the retreating keeper and, at exactly the right moment to shoot, ran a bit more, then a little bit more and then stuck it in the net.
Solihull Moors play 2 divisions above Brakes but, on today’s showing, it could very well have been the other way around with Brakes playing the ball along the ground as much as in the air and having plenty of chances to show for it. Josh Blake had a couple of opportunities, Shay Morgan carved through the Moors like a hot knife through butter and put his shot past the rooted keeper and inches wide of the upright and Sean Brown, who hasn’t signed for us as yet, ran almost the entire length of the pitch as though surrounded by a force field as several Moors players failed to get anywhere near him, only to put his shot wide. Steve Palmer broke the play up well and distributed simply but efficiently, Liam Reynolds seemed to be involved in almost everything as well.
All in all it was a well deserved win and I think it’s fair to say that this squad could be the best we’ve had in a long while.
It was only a few weeks ago that many, myself included, were bemoaning the loss of several key players to big spending Brackley, however, on what I’ve seen so far there is no cause for concern.
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 11:24
Travel demons
For some reason (don't tell me, if you know--I don't want to) before every trip I find myself imagining that horrible things are going to happen to my family/home/animals while I'm away.
This morning was no exception. I woke up happy (well, as happy as you can be when sunlight spears you in the eyeballs after you stayed up too late reading a book by Someone Else, but happy) and immediately fell into a semi-dream-state in which I was driving somewhere in the Panhandle on the way to Denver only to be stopped by a highway patrolman to tell me my family had all been killed in a car crash and they needed me to come back immediately. My iterative brain then insisted on taking me through everything I *should* remember to do in that dire circumstance..."Call so-and-so..." "Do you have their number with you? What about such-and-so's number?" Who to call about what, in what order, what words to use....I got out of bed finally and no amount of tooth-brushing could clear out the gummy mental residue of imagined disaster.
After a bowl of cereal, some eggs and bacon, and putting on jeans instead of pjs, my head began to clear. But every single time I'm away overnight, I have to go through this....what will I do if...???
It's never my own demise, or my own serious injury, though I'm the one on the airplane at 40,000 feet over the Pacific (I have flown in the plane that blew out a hole in flight), or the one driving on interstates along with huge trucks laden with dangerous cargo and driven by people who think they own the road, plus a collection of drunks, drug-users, and others in various ill-maintained vehicles, or the one on a train whose track I have not personally inspected and about whose engineer I know nothing. I don't worry (much) about those things...I worry about husband falling off the roof, having a heart attack, having a stroke, kid being shot while at work by a crazed (or criminal) person who storms into the pizza shop with a gun, or the both of them being killed on I-35 or 183 while going to or from work or choir practice or church (and killed on the road is the likeliest--there was a fatal crash on the road out of this town last night, which delayed them getting back from a movie.) Or a horse being hit by lightning, bitten by a rattlesnake, catching a leg in a fence, eating something toxic again, or otherwise becoming injured or dead. Or a grass fire (not that unlikely in this drought and heat) or brush fire (ditto) or house fire (ditto, esp. if someone walks away from the kitchen stove while a burner's on...it's happened to both of us) or a giant rock falling out of the sky and obliterating the town while I'm not there.
Well, that should be out of the way now, because I have mapped out contingency plans for being stopped on the road for bad news this side of Abilene, between Abilene and Lubbock, between Lubbock and Amarillo, between Amarillo and Denver, etc. etc. It's probably magical thinking: the disaster for which you have thoroughly planned is the one that, seeing it can't spring on you out of nowhere, doesn't happen.
If if does, I will blame having written the previous sentence.
E.
![apprehensive]( "apprehensive") | mood: apprehensive |
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 15:01
THE CGI EFFECT UNCANNY VALLEY
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 15:32
Jerky
http://bizarrocomic.blogspot.com/2008/07/jerky.html  Today's Bizarro is brought to you by My Faulty Brain.
Hello from Sunny San Diego, my BizarroBlogBuddies. Just before I left my estate in Brooklyn yesterday, I loaded all the appropriate cartoons that I would need to continue posting on this blog onto a little dealy-bobber stick so I could bring them with me. Then I left the dealy-bobber stick in my computer at home. What I have learned from this experience is that dealy-bobber sticks, no matter how well-designed, do not work at a distance of 2400 miles.
So I'm posting this older cartoon, which happens to be one of my faves from last year, because it was already on my laptop. No time to add a lot of funny links today, I'm off to the Comic Con to see strange people in stranger outfits.
I hope you like this panel and are not going to be a jerk about it.
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 15:00
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 14:00
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 12:42
Inspiration: Vintage Photography Auctions
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 12:33
i’ll tell you one thing for certain
http://wonderingsandwanderings.wordpress.com/2008/07/26/i%e2%80%99ll-tell-you-one-thing-for-certain/ http://wonderingsandwanderings.wordpress.com/?p=54 
I am inching toward the 6-month mark of my separation and though the past 5 1/2 months oddly almost felt like a breeze (perhaps not a zephyr, but a cool November wind), I suddenly feel the pain of it all. Like the band aid of distraction that was covering the wound has been yanked off and has torn a strip off my heart. When I left almost half a year ago, I was in survival mode. I dove right into my new life, new place, new job, without so much as testing the waters. But I’ve since had time to swim back to shore where I’m dipping my toes in and the water doesn’t seem so inviting. The lake is full of ripples as if a thousand stones have been thrown in and I can’t see clearly.
The trigger of all this, I suspect, is my search for an apartment. I’ve been living with my cousin since February but it’s soon time for me to leave the nest and fly on my own, which makes the end of my relationship feel more final than the day I left. On some deep unconscious level, my mind being the trickster it is, I may have fooled myself into believing that my stay at Amy’s was a layover on my long flight back home. After all, I had no strings tying me here - a temp job and no place to call my own.
But now, I’ve been offered a permanent position and I’m looking for a 1 bedroom apartment. Strings are being knotted and my stay no longer feels temporary. It feels very real, very permanent and no matter how much I sugar coat it with images of freshly painted walls and vintage Pyrex dishes… it’s still me sitting on my couch, me eating leftovers, me watching a movie, me lying in my single bed, me sipping a glass of wine, me with my deafening silence. There is no us in this reality and that is where my hurt lies.
***
Lately, the question du jour has been “what the fuck am I doing?” Between the chaos of a busy work schedule and a mind occupied with processing a million thoughts a day… my brain feels saturated and my heart is doing little to help the situation as it has its own mending to worry about. I feel pulled in a thousand different directions. I am afraid that I’m never going to figure out what I want to do with my life. What if I’m an administrative assistant for EVER? What if these little jobs that were meant to be a means to an end all these years end up being my life? Working for a company until I get a toaster oven in 10 years and a shitty pension in 30 years. I’m not judging anyone who is living this life, it’s just that I feel like I’m missing a dream I can’t see. Because when I try to think of what else I could do with my life, the answer is I DON’T KNOW. And though that answer felt okay when I was 20, it was like a little Who voice inside my head, now the voice is that of a giant and it is filled with dread. Whereas before I could at least say that I had the relationship thing figure out, because really, all you need is love… now, that has all changed.
***
In all the confusion, I feel the need to let go of something and had considered quitting this blog because if you don’t have time to do something well, don’t do it at all, right? False! Still, this made me wonder why it is exactly that I blog?
And the answers came threefold.
1. I crave the attention and the praise (c’est vrai).
2. I do it for my mother because I know how happy it makes her and I like to make her happy.
3. This is where I come to find myself, writing makes me feel sane.
Sometimes, you get the real me. Sometimes I am the person I aspire to be (my higher self speaks through me). And sometimes I am the person I want you to think I am. So allow me to introduce myself. Hello, my name is Jeanine and I am only human. I’m trying to find my way in a strange world that is also full of beauty. I am darkness. I am light. I am scared and I am hopeful. I can sometimes be a total selfish, judgmental bitch but I’m trying to be a better person every single day. I am negative. I am positive. I am the girl who will do 2 hours of intense yoga then drink a bottle of wine and perhaps puff on a cigarette. I am contradiction, I am balance.
And I am most certainly in the gray zone right now. The zone where I don’t have everything figured out. And though I may not have time or energy to write right now, I have a feeling that my creativity will find its way back to me again and I would regret not having this place when the time comes. So for now, I have to accept that this isn’t quite home yet. It’s more of a Motel 8 room, which my creativity checks in and out of when it’s in town. And it’s okay if I only pop in to share a quote and a photo. And it’s okay if, when I find my way back, nobody is here to greet me because ultimately, I am doing this for me (and me ma).
***
I was talking with Kevin the other day and he said that while waiting tables last weekend at the bistro, he chatted with a table of 3 going on their third bottle of wine and one of the gentlemen said in pure Nova Scotia fashion “I’ll tell ya one thing for certain… everyone is fucked up”, to which the other replied… “and that’s why we drink”. That should be a t-shirt, a bumper sticker, the title of David Sedaris’ next book (whom I recently met at a book signing, but that’s another story… he is fantastic, by the way).
And then my cousin told me that she walked into the changing room at the yoga studio a few evenings ago and found one of the instructors, who has been practicing for 20 years, punching the yoga mats furiously. It seems one was out of place and as she pushed it back, she noticed all the other misplaced mats and lost it. Amy said she must have punched at least 10 yoga mats before entering the studio, sitting in lotus and breathing deeply before teaching her class.
This was both shocking and comforting to me. To know that we are ALL only human. We are all fucked in the head on some level. We each have our own nagging doubts, insecurities, awkward social moments, fears, weaknesses, shortcomings. Even those who appear to have their shit together. Even those who spend a lifetime practicing yoga. Remember that when you are being hard on yourself.
***
Another yoga teacher said something the other day, which resonated deeply with me, as I lie in savasana after an intense heart opening practice with heavy tears forming at the corners of my eyes. She said, when you find yourself not living fully, with intention, whatever that means for you, just start over… and over… and over. Each breath is an opportunity to change, to accept… to let go.
And so, with this breath, I am starting over.
***
“Would it be as much fun, Jeanine, if you never stopped laughing? If there were never any clouds? If you were never challenged? If you were never alone? If you never heard the whole truth when it hurt? If you always knew what would happen, what to do, and where to go? Or would you be like, “Beam me down, Bro!
Yep,
The Universe” Notes from the Universe
       
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 11:00
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 10:00
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 10:36
Same punchline, different joke
Summer-like weather has finally arrived in southern Sweden, prompting Dr. Darling and I to take a stroll in the sunshine when I got home from work on Thursday afternoon. Malmö is a great city for walking, and set out on one of our favourite routes along the canal. There were tons of people out and about, including this group enjoying a floating dinner party on the canal. 
As I paused on the bridge to snap the photo, Dr. Darling noted a disparity between the amount of food on the tables verses the amount of alcohol. Dr. D: Gosh, they seem to have a spectacular amount of wine down there but not much to eat. Shazz: And you're surprised by that? Dr. D: A little. Aren't you? Shazz: Not at all. It's a bunch of Swedes dining al fresco. A copious amount of booze is compulsory. I think it may even be written in the Swedish constitution. Dr. D: Good point. We continued on our way along the canal, which was buzzing with paddleboats and kayakers. This one was unusal though as it was a four-seater. We think it was a family, based on the way they were interacting with each other. What a cool way to spend some quality time together!
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Toward the end of our stroll we came upon a couple who were fishing. I love to fish, and I'm always curious to know what folks are catching...especially the canal that runs through the center of the city. The man had a large white bucket next to him, and when I saw it jiggle, I figured he had a catch he'd be happy to show off. But as I approached him, I could see that the only thing in the bucket was the remnants of his picnic supper. By now, though, I was too close to him not to at least say something, so in the hushed tones that one uses when talking to fisherman actively trying to catch fish, I said to him (in my best Swedish): "I saw your bucket move and thought you'd caught something, but it must have been the wind. Anything biting?" And he said: NOTHING. Seriously, not a word. What's weirder, he didn't even acknowledge my presence, and I was standing right next to him. (I know I wasn't invisible because the woman was sitting a few feet away and she at least looked up at me.) When I caught up with Dr. Darling (who, hating all things fish-related, had walked well ahead), I described the strange non-encounter, concluding with the statement: "That man is either incredibly rude or completely deaf." Dr. D: Or he could Swedish. Shazz: Good point.
 | mood: amused |
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 10:21
You know you've lived in Europe too long when...
http://kolokolo.blogspot.com/2008/07/you-know-youve-lived-in-europe-too-long.html 1. You expect to be in another country if you've spent two hours in a car. 2. Your kid asks you how to say a word in three languages. 3. You learn the Cyrillic alphabet so that you can read the street signs in your favorite spa town (and know what your spam is talking about). 4. You think $4 gas is a good deal. 5. Americans regularly compliment you on your English and ask what country you're from. 6. You catch yourself singing to an oompa beat. 7. You think the New York Times online edition is the hub of American journalism. 8. U.S. politicians are still embarrassing, but then so are everyone else's. 9. You believe everyone has the right to good chocolate at least once a day. 10. You forget your favorite holidays. See below: Conversation on a conference call to the States, July 7Julia: Hey guys, so, how are ya’ll doing over there. You just had a holiday didn’t you? Which one was it again?
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 08:02
Changing The Game
http://chucksigars.com/index.php/2008/07/26/changing-the-game/ Back in the mid-1980s, when Beth was a baby, I used to work a graveyard shift at a hospital, and a couple of times I worked the Saturday night when Daylight Savings went into effect. Someone asked me once what happened at 2am when the clocks changed, and I said, “Nothing.”
We weren’t supposed to tell.
So I’ve been suddenly senior for all of half an hour, and you want to know what happened?
That’s it. A paradigm shift. A change of venue. A turn-the-snow-globe-and-shake-it sort of thing.
I spent a year learning how to live sober. I spent the next one, this last one, learning how to live again. Works for me.
There is no sadness, people, but thank you for your kindness.
There is no chaos, either. And no recurrent dreams.
I still dream, and still dream some of the same things, but not the same ones. Not the ones so familiar I gave them names. The Reunion Dream. The Highway Dream. The Pool Dream. Drunk dreams, Dad dreams, death and dying dreams.
I used to dream, pretty often, that I would suddenly leave the house and start running. This was a recurrent dream and a good one; there was freedom, then, and peace.
Odd, too. I ran from time to time, a long time ago, for exercise, but nothing serious. Not long enough or hard enough to become hooked, or regular, or even good. Just familiar.
So the dreams are gone, whoosh. Bit by bit.
This is me at 50, then. Pretty much the way I was at 49, except maybe not so much.
I know I’m less sentimental, less passionate about some things, more amused and bemused and distant. Less engaged in details, more inclined to be cynical about the world and politics and my fellow men and women than I was a year ago. I’m writing a lot of crap, lately, too. So it goes.
And yet. I love, and am loved. I work and I move and I learn and I cherish damn near everything, and I’m happier and I’m healthier and somehow along the line I’ve lost 90 pounds, too.
This is what occurred to me the other day, at any rate, as I was walking around the lake. Starting over. Changing everything. Staying alive. Moving forward. It was sunny, too, and warm, and nobody was around, and maybe because of that, and maybe because it was time, and maybe because I needed to do something else, I started to run, like I’d never ever stopped, like I never ever will.
Saturday, July 26th, 2008 // 00:00
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snippetI can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn
bushes have roses. Abraham Lincoln
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credits
Layout thanks to dandelion. Findus the cat as used in my user icon and header is the creation of
Sven Nordqvist.
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