I Like Ike

My friend Sue Eichler, who I've known since at least Jr. High, made the trek west from the big city for a visit last weekend. It's been awhile! We got in lots of trouble during high school/summer softball days, and we pretty much picked up where we left off. Some of us got together for a friend's mom's memorial service (not the best of circumstances, but what can you do?), so Ike spent the day with us Saturday and went back Sunday. Note, in the photo above is the grade school (now senior apartments) she and some of my other friends attended (I was in the "new school" across town), and the infamous sledding hill. We used to build jumps that launched us out into the road...until some poor kid jumped without a lookout and got hit by a car.

I remember the very first time I ever went sledding there; I was probably 6 or 7 (or maybe 16, hard to remember), and it took much whining and badgering before Odie had reluctantly acquiesced to let me tag along. But once I stood at the top of the hill with my little flying saucer clutched to my pink snowsuit, I was too terrified to go down. Hey, it's a BIG hill! At that age, the slope looked SO HUGE. Odie, who had a reputation to uphold that did not include a wimpy kid sister, finally got me to go down (though the first time I think I started from the middle of the hill -- baby steps). I believe he was also responsible for my jumping off a high dive in pre school (!), riding a bike without training wheels, wading through the "red tide" in Florida, slalom water skiing, going down the big kids' water slide at Bang's Lake, jumping off the garage roof and beating up more than a few boys in the 'hood. I used to think it was brotherly love. Now I'm beginning to wonder.

But I digress...

Here's the childhood home, back when life was simple.



The subsequent night out with Sue, Amy and Deanna at Rosie's. Not pictured are significant others who were likely either bored stiff or horrified by the stories of truancy, debauchery and a little bit of the Three Stooges (I am reminded, again, of the game in which the batter managed to get an in-the-park home run on a weak single because Ike took a cutoff, turned, and threw the ball as hard as she could ... right into a wooden light pole. The resounding THUNK was priceless, drowned out only by the entire infield laughing so hard we could not stand up as the runner merrily rounded the bases. Ah ... memories.).

We were not being naughty. This is a reenactment of a team photo for the yearbook in which Deanna had surreptitiously flipped the bird. It was pointing down -- so it was veeeerry subtle.

Looking Good...I Guess

Legousia speculum-veneris

So when the gynecologist tells you, "Everything looks good!" should you say thank you, or just kind of let it go? I’m never sure. I opted for "Uh…OK." I am now a believer, though, in snagging that first appointment of the morning. I was in and out in under a half hour (and so was she, heh heh.) And I scored some free samples that are supposed to be better than Advil. I’m not sure I’ll ever not hate that whole experience though. Who the fuck invented stirrups? Could that exam technique be any more demeaning?

In other lady parts news, I also went for the annual boob scrunch, a.k.a. mammogram, where I scored a new supply of Mammo Wipes (handy on bike rides and any other time you need a refreshing moist towelette for mammaries and other parts – body or mechanical) and yet another glowing assessment. The tech was having a good day, apparently, or maybe my boobs were just extra cooperative, because she was all, "You can come in and have me do your mammogram ANY time – these films are just PERFECT!" She went on to exclaim that these were the kinds of films the hospital would send off for accreditation. Again, do you say "thank you" or just let it go? I opted for, "Well, I guess I’ll take fame where I can get it." But I don’t want to say too much more about it all lest I jinx it – haven’t gotten the results back on that yet. I can't help but fret. The Pap (I refuse to say "smear." Oops, damnit, I just did. Again, who came up with THAT name?), however, was all good.

As if all that touching wasn’t enough, I start physical therapy tomorrow for my shoulder, which appears to have developed some sort of "impingement." I think that's the term they use when they don’t know what else to call it.

"It hurts when I do this."
"Ah…must be an impingement."

We'll see. My guy (a former stellar source from my fitness column days) says he can get it on the road to recovery in three to four weeks. I think I can live with that.

One last anatomical anecdote: there was a college rep giving out free brains today by the cafeteria. Little stress ball brains. I had fun telling people, "Hey look! Free brains in the Commons – you should go get one!" Actually, it didn’t get as many laughs as I thought it would.

Flurry of Crumbs and What Not

OK, how did I miss the fact that THIS weekend we're supposed to set our clocks ahead? Had I not been rudely eavesdropping in the cafeteria today, I would have missed the whole thing -- and wondered why everyone was in a different time zone than I was.

Anyway... days are getting longer, temps are rising just a smidge, and I cannot WAIT for spring. However, when hot days are upon us, that will mean no more bread baking for awhile (except for the crockpot variety). That small loss in my routine is kind of sad, so I've been a bit of baking maniac lately. I'm going to try making smaller loaves that I can vacuum seal in food saver bags for the summer. These loaves here, however, are not small, but they have since been classified as tasty. I made some more rosemary bread, dried cherry and walnut bread and also tried a modified rye bread that I was quite pleased with. I was trying to replicate the flavor of the Latvian rye bread by adding a little cider vinegar and fennel to the dough. Not bad. The test kitchen is still tweaking the recipe though.



Also, here's the second batch of popovers made with the fabulous popover pan of the gods. This time I only filled the cups about half full, and they turned out just as good and more manageable to boot.


I should add that I would not be averse to another good snowfall, because after much comparison shopping and searching, I finally settled on and purchased (after finally finding some in stock) some new cross country skis and boots (also a challenge) with the latest in fancy new bindings. They finally came in just in time for...no snow. I am itching to try them out. I hear there's still snow in WI, so, despite the aversion I do have to wasting gas, I'm seriously considering a road trip. Skis are very hard to take a picture of. Here's a stock photo I stole from Amazon. Aren't they pretty?


In cookbook news, the college library is creating an author display of employees' books, and they asked if they could include my cookbook. I was all "HECK YEAH!" cuz I figure maybe I'll sell a few more. I had to provide a book and a little write-up about why I wrote the book. So this is what I gave them. They liked it.

The Pseudo Gourmet
A Cookbook for Those Who Have No Intention of Ever
Purchasing A Garlic Press
(The Back Story)
By Paula Lauer

Admittedly, about the only thing that qualifies me to write a cookbook is the fact that I appreciate good food, and I love to eat. Hence the title! The impetus for this project was a highly disorganized collection of favorite recipes ranging from old, old family favorites (some written in fountain pen) to scribbled formulas on napkins. I had my own freelance writing business at the time, so I pitched the book idea to a design firm I was working with, figuring they could use the finished product as a holiday gift that both showcased the firm’s talents and provided something fun and memorable for their clients. And I got free graphic design and printing out of the deal. Sweet! I wrote a special flyleaf for the first printing that compared the virtues of good food with good design – quality ingredients, attention to detail, tasteful and simple … or something to that effect! I was also writing a syndicated fitness column for Copley Newspapers, so I was able to plug the book in my column, and those newspapers also ran feature stories about me, which resulted in several thousand additional sales and, believe it or not, requests for “author talks” at local libraries. Eventually, the fame and continual barrage by Paparazzi and the like got to be too much, so I hung up my apron. But copies are still available for a mere $10 – autographs are free!
Visit the Pseudo Gourmet web site for sample recipes, ordering information, and more scintillating description: http://pgourmet.blogspot.com

“Anyone who craves fast yet wholesome food (as opposed to drive-through) that sustains the soul as well as the body will find what they're looking for in these 200-plus recipes, many of which include suggestions for cutting fat and calories. The Pseudo Gourmet makes a great gift for holidays, weddings, birthdays and housewarmings!”
--Publisher’s Note

“It’s the best cookbook ever. Are you coming over for dinner?”
--Paula’s Mom

“I couldn’t put it down! Seriously, I read the whole thing, and it’s a riot. I have yet to cook anything, of course, but I’m actually inspired to try. It’s that good!”
--Jayne in Rockford

Pop Over for a Popover

Behold my most excellent new popover pan! Note, this is a *professional* grade pan (it says so on the cardboard wrapper thingee), and I am here to tell you, there is nothing like a professional popover to get you going. The first batch came out golden brown, soft in the middle, and quite lofty.




I had to double the batter to fill the huge cups, though, so I need to play with that a bit. I don't really see a need for gigantic popovers that are the size of your head, since they're best warm, and I already have to share a batch of normal ones lest I take on the actual shape of a popover (minus the loft).

BTW, here's the recipe in case you're too cheap to buy my cookbook (haha).

2 eggs
1 cup milk (soy milk works too)
1 cup flour
1/2 tsp. salt

Whisk eggs with a fork, then add the flour, milk and salt. Mix together, disregarding lumps. Don't over mix. Batter will be fairly thin. Fill well-greased muffin tins 3/4 full if using standard muffin tin. If you use the fancy popover pan, Alton Brown and other say to just fill them 1/3 to 1/2 full. Put in a COLD oven set to 450. Bake for 30 minutes. DO NOT open the oven door, or they'll lose their poof.

Serve hot with butter, honey and jams.

Other culinary efforts included rosemary bread, chicken soup (just in time for another damn head cold) and sweet potato & chickpea stew. I know -- it sounds strange, but it's delish. Flavors in that soup included curry, cumin, and coconut milk. You know you want some.






Also, I finally posted some new faces on the face blog. I've been seeing a lot lately (am I lonely?), but I didn't have a camera handy, and now I can't remember where they all were...but I caught a few.



In movie news, Beth and I watched The Road. Wow. It was dark, pretty true to the book, and fairly riveting. Kind of makes you want to learn survival skills though. Or maybe the best way to off yourself in a pinch. We watched an episode of Glee afterwards, which was almost as cleansing as a Veggie Tale.

Ready for My Closeup

Just wanted to give a plug to my friend and former co worker turned photographer, Ryan, for taking these great pics of yours truly. We had to have portraits taken for our departmental brochure at work, and we hired Ryan to do them. The guy has a gift. Seriously, these pictures look like ones that come with frames -- they're that good. Guess what everyone got for Valentine's Day! Behold a few of the proofs.

Not Back in the Swing

I kind of lost interest in blogging for awhile...so this is an attempt to get back into the swing of it. I've been seeing faces all over the place (and me without my camera), so I took that as a sign that the Internet was calling. Or, maybe it was just a prank call.

I'll report now on my latest obsession, which is finding new cross country skis. It started with a desire to have a "backup" pair of my sweet Revolution skis (no longer made), which I love, but, it turns out, not as much as I love the new mid-length wide-body skis (which I rented just for kicks) that are all the rage. It was kind of like riding in a Lincoln after driving a go cart.

So then I decided maybe I should sell off some of my obsolete equipment, and promptly unloaded three sets of skis, boots and poles via my employee newsletter at work (well, 1 of the ski sets was Lenore's, but still, I was feeling pretty successful).

I was poised to buy...and had my heart set on the new Fischer Desire skis that are alleged to be strong enough for a man but made for a woman (even though they looked girly and were not red like the boys' skis, grrr). It became an obsession when it started proving impossible to find skis in my size or boots that didn't suck. Then, when I finally found some, the guy didn't want to make the sale. Seriously. I was all set to fork over $200+, but he didn't have boots that fit me. I was willing to pay full price for a USED pair of rental boots, and he didn't want to do it. Whatever. After much googling and almost resorting to a spreadsheet (the horror), I finally found skis and bindings that I hope will be the same if not better online at REI. Since boots in my size appear to be few and far between, I had to buy them separately. Fortunately, most stuff is on sale now. I found a pair at Village Cycle Sport on sale and two pairs at L.L. Bean that were $20% off, then Beth got me another 15% off, so that was a sweet deal (even though they charge like 10% sales tax...don't get me started). I'm currently "testing" all three -- two pairs of Rossignol (36 and 37) and a pair of Alpinas.



My goal is to find something that won't give me blisters and that keep my feet warm. It's a pretty tall order. So I've been wearing them at work and took the Rossies on a test ride today on a treadmill in the fitness center. People think I'm odd, but then again, that's nothing new. What I really want to know, is what is UP with manufacturers putting goddamn flowers on everything that's for women?



It drives me nuts. If it isn't flowers on my ski boots, it's fucking bows on my long underwear.

Case in point: Here's Addi, who didn't even realize her jaunty red bow was peeking out of her new Xena robe.



ENOUGH with the prissy shit already, do you hear me, lame-ass manufacturers? Also, pink and other pastel colors? Really not necessary. We get it. We're girls. We can still kick your ass and make a batch of popovers all in the same day.

Speaking of popovers...(recipe found in the Pseudo Gourmet)



I forgot how fabulous these little pockets of eggy joy were. I recently made some for Beth to prove my point, and she's joined me in the obsession (yes, another one -- did I mention she also bought new skis?). I just ordered a new popover pan from Amazon (I will be so sad when my free year-long Prime membership expires in August!) and almost considered paying $3.99 for overnight shipping. I know -- it's that serious. Note the assist above by a Perky Potholder, though Beth made it, so I'm not sure if it's really perky or not. These buggers did NOT want to come out of the pan. Hence the need for new designer non-stick cookware.

In addition to getting back into the swing of blogging (which I may not be, to be honest), I unleashed my inner soup nazi last night and made two vats of delicious soup: chicken noodle and sweet potato & chickpea stew. My freezer is filled with soup, homemade bread and cat food. Bring it on, just don't turn off my electricity.

In other mundane news, I'm still addicted to Glee and Weeds and looking forward to getting re addicted to Dexter. My interest is waning in Bones and Chuck. I may need to branch out and view programming with multiple-word titles. Not anytime soon though. There's only so much time one can devote to Netflix and still get in an adequate amount of this.



Gracie thinks she's a tiny lap dog, which she is most assuredly not.

Let It Snow. OK, That's Enough. Seriously. Stop Already.

This is what it felt like my house looked like. It was actually worse. Not really. But I'm thinking of getting a plow attachment for my Mini.

This was the view out my front window Tuesday night. Kind of ominous!


The blizzard of 2011 was, I think, much more exciting for the media than anyone else. Barring a little anxiety over the power going out (which, thankfully, it didn't), I rather enjoyed it; although, my snowblower could have picked a better time to crap out on me. Over the course of the 2.5 snow days (woot!), I baked several loaves of bread, made pumkpkin bread pudding and pea soup in the crockpot (not at the same time) slept late, did a tiny bit of cross country skiing and snowshoeing, and learned that if the little screw-in gas drippy thingee on your snowblower gets clogged, the snowblower won't start. That little lesson cost me 50 bucks, but I'm grateful that the small-engine repair guy made a house call.

Then I got sick, which kind of put a damper on the weekend. However, with the snow days and sick days, I will get a six-day weekend, so it's not all bad.

Here are a few not-so-dramatic shots from the snowfall. I'm guessing we got about 20 inches or so. Hard to tell with all the drifting.

I had several cardinals flitting around the bird feeder -- this was the only decent shot I was able to get.


The squirrels quickly re established their favorite pathways.



This may not look all that impressive, but I shoveled this by hand after the snowblower died. I think the snow was about knee high and kind of heavy.


Shortly before the snowblower gave up...


Tuesday night, it was snowing inside and out. Think I might need to get a new porch door!


Most of the windows had that "winter wonderland" look about them.


The sights on Wednesday morning.




Friday I was finally able to return the skis I rented (to see if I wanted to buy them, which I did), though I have yet to try them due to the chest cold, which I believe is a special gift from my boss. Nice. What makes people think they are so indispensable that they have to come to work sick? Seriously. If you're that critical to the organization that it can't function without you for a couple of days, maybe you should be asking for a raise. Since I'm pretty sure I won't be 100% by Monday, I am totally taking the day off. Hopefully I'll feel well enough do the stuff I couldn't do while dripping over the weekend -- namely, skiing on my new skis and grocery shopping (note to self: add Kleenex to the list). And napping some more. That goes without saying.

This evening is superbowl 45 (?), which I don't feel obligated to capitalize, though I'm somewhat rooting for the Packers, even though Odie is, I think, still a Steelers fan. I like the Packers' colors better and their small-town roots.

Speaking of TV viewing, thanks to Netflix and Hulu, I'm catching up on Glee and Weeds. I also watched an old (1948) movie called The Boy With Green Hair, which stars Dean Stockwell (Al from Quantum Leap, one of my favorite cheezy shows) as the little boy. I wonder if that was one of his first roles.



The film was somewhat odd, but captivating in the way it delivered its message (war is bad for children). I suppose that was a brave message to impart for its time, given all the pro-war propaganda in that era.