Barefoot Girl

I usually wear my crocs when I go to water and weed the garden. It's nice that they are waterproof, but sometimes the way they squeak when my feet slide around in them makes me a little crazy. Wearing socks is not the solution-- they just get soggy and unpleasant. The other day, I finally just left my slippery shoes behind and stepped barefoot into the grassy pathway that runs the length of the community plots.

The grass was cool and soft, and I was transported back to summer days when I was a little girl and we never wore shoes to play outside. Why haven't I gone barefoot recently? I wondered, before remembering that I live in a condo without a yard. No worries, though. Now I just kick my shoes off the minute I get to the garden, and there they stay until it's time to go.

Not So Total Recall

We saw the remake/reboot/whatever of Total Recall today. (That's what happens when you hang with teenaged boys; although I confess, I kind of wanted to see it.) As it progressed, I realized that although I have definitely seen the original, probably more than once, ironically, I had very little recall of it. Sure, the first one had Arnold Schwarzenegger in it, and early on in this version, as I watched Kate Beckinsale beat the crap out of Colin Farrell, I remembered the old one had Sharon Stone in it as well, back in the day when she had the rep as a serious ass-kicker.

After the movie, Riley and Heidi assured me that the two versions were not much different from each other, with the exception of the setting, and Treat did a little digging to to find that neither one was much like the Philip K. Dick story they were based on. "I don't think the wife's character was quite as resilient in the first one," Heidi added. "I'm pretty sure she didn't make it to the end."

And that's when one more detail sprang immediately to my fifty-year-old brain. Arnold's inimitable Austrian accent deadpanning, "Consider that a duh-voorse," as he terminated his "wife".

Now, that, I totally recalled.

Degree of Difficulty

Cats have the reputation of being rather graceful. The elegant stalk, the arch of the back, the effortless leap-- these are feline markers. Well, that is true for every cat I've ever met, besides our own Penelope. That one is downright clumsy.

Perhaps we first noticed it the time she raced across the wood floor, and for no apparent reason suddenly attempted a full stop. Unsuccessful, her back legs kept going, passed beneath her, and flipped her ass over tea kettle in a full somersault. What did she do? She shook it off. It couldn't have been as novel to her as it was to us.

Since then, she has tripped numerous times; she has misjudged many leaps and several landings, including a few onto my lap, the latest of which was just a while ago, resulting in some pretty deep punctures to my thigh, and a bump on the head for Penelope.

None of it seems to bother her, though. It is what it is, and so she goes on.

I heard a piece on the radio the other day about human satisfaction. It was in conjunction with the Olympics and was, in part, addressing why most silver medal winners are disappointed with their achievement, while most bronze winners are satisfied. It seems that we rely on comparisons to help us figure out how we're doing. The silver winner is looking at the gold he or she lost, while the bronze medalist is feeling pretty happy to be going home with something, unlike all of the other competitors behind him or her.

Fortunately, Penelope does not get caught up in such head games. Maybe she's on to something.

We Are Family

Heidi and I have been together for nearly 14 years, and over that time we've shared great times and tragedy, like any couple. We feel fortunate to have the love and support of both of our families, and we have brought them all together in various circumstances and constellations over the years. It works, and for that we are thankful.

Even so, living in a time where same-sex unions are still very controversial (I'm talking to you, Chik-fil-A) and in a state where they are not recognized at all (yes, Virginia, there are committed gay couples), it's hard at times to keep calm and carry on, but of course we do.

Today we were cleaning out drawers in the guest room when we came upon a whole cache of photos. The oldest was from 1969 and the newest was probably 2004. I don't think we've even looked at them in five years or more, so we had fun going through them after so much time.  

The pictures were all mixed up: There's Josh, there's Jennifer, that's me in college, there's Riley, there's Treat, that's Bill and Emily's wedding, that's Kyle, that's Kevin, that's Courtney and Jordan's wedding, and so on.

Some were mine, some were Heidi's, and some were ours.

As it should be.

Chops

"Let's have this for dinner tonight!" Heidi suggested while looking through my new cookbook.

"Sure," I agreed without a second thought, without even looking at the recipe, because, after all it's summer, so what's a little extra cooking?

What indeed. It's high time to acknowledge that I am not the cook I once was, and this vegan dish of  homemade pasta, filling and sauce, not to mention hand filling the tortelloni totally kicked my ass. We'll be lucky to eat by 8:30 and my back is killing me.

It's going to be good, though.

Juiced

After much soul-searching and debate, we finally broke down and bought one of those professional blenders. You might recognize it from the store demos where folks with mic headsets prepare all manner of smooth foods. The big finale is always a hot cream soup prepared from raw ingredients-- the friction generated from the sheer speed of the blade is enough to cook it (!)

That's not why I wanted it, though. In fact, if anything, such a public spectacle made me steer clear of this product for many years. It was not until Heidi became vegan that the profile of this blender rose in my consciousness. After that, they were in every third recipe I read, always with a note that a regular blender "would do" and a clear implication that your product would be a little inferior.

These babies will run you some serious bucks, though, and for a long time I was able to resist. That was, until I came across The Conscious Cook, by Tal Ronnen. Tal is a chef who also happens to be vegan, and although I've collected a lot of fantastic recipes in the last year or so, this was a book that appealed to my former professional sensibility. The first pages have  In my Kitchen and In my Pantry lists of tools and ingredients, and as I read through them, I was proud to see that I had everything I needed, except... yes, that blender.

And here's what it came down to... I feel like I have mastered an excellent replacement ingredient for almost all the eggs, meat, seafood, and dairy dishes we have always enjoyed, except for cream. Soy milk, rice milk, and almond milk do not have enough fat. Coconut milk works in some situations, but it has a high flavor profile. Ronnen's Ur-recipe is for cashew cream; he uses it liberally throughout the book, and you can't buy it-- it is handmade with, yes, that blender.

So now I have one. I have made cashew cream and it is amazing; I'm looking forward to putting it to great use. I have also made some quality frappucinos and smoothies. Today for lunch we had an avocado and cucumber soup with cilantro, mint, and Thai basil. It was a hit. Last night, on Top Chef Masters, I pointed out every single blender like ours, and there were many, all being used in cool delicious ways.

BUT, yesterday, the food section in our local paper did a feature on juicing-- how healthful and great it is to make your own fruit and veggie juices-- but when all was taste-tested and done, a dedicated juicer turned out to be preferable over... yes, our blender.

Sigh.

Sticking the Landing

There has been a lot of press the last week or so about the impending landing of the latest Mars rover, Curiosity. On Sunday, it will enter Mars's atmosphere at a speed of about 13,200 mph, and in the space of about 7 minutes will have to slow to a full stop. NASA engineers have developed a series of ingenious systems involving rockets and parachutes and ultimately a "sky crane" that will hover above the surface to lower Curiosity gently down. All of it has been tested, but none of it together, and so some NASA officials have dubbed the upcoming event Seven Minutes of Terror.

On another note, despite my objections, we watched the full prime time coverage of the Olympics last night. What can I say? Not only does she like dancing, Heidi is a fan of gymnastics, too. I can say this-- NASA should consider using a few of the fab five on their own team. Talk about practical experience with hurtling full speed through the air only to come to a complete stop-- those golden girls know how to nail it.