I blog gluten-free

Wednesday, November 30, 2011


Advent is here... it's become the "Pop open a paper window"---and then? Nothing.  But with some, you could get awarded with chocolate. I decided...use it as it's supposed to be...this is waiting and prep time. Let myself be silent, and do my prayers, and...well, wait. I can joke that I got a chocolate marzipan Baby Judas today... sure... but now's not the time!

Did I get any answers in the quiet? Hmm... could be. "Be patient. You're ok, Be still..." echoed roundly in my head after a few prayers.

Sadness? It is what  it is. I'm not breaking. There's joy afoot!

As for now, the quiet includes a little music... I needed a break from the same old, same old... having heard "The Little Drummer Boy" 15 times in the space of an hour (our radio station needs to really work on that)- which I should not listen to, unless I am in a room without sharp objects and heavily caffeinated.

3 more Sundays after this one! Yes, I get so excited around this time of year.

Last year, there was a huge miracle... the Marvelous Nephew was falling through the cracks... a smart kid in a lousy school district, where his race became a huge issue. Then... the charter school called at just the right time, just after I said "I have that feeling things will get better". And... well, the phone began to ring off the hook! :) I can't take credit... I know that is one awesome kid, full of life, sweetness and fight, and unbroken even if he has seen so much pain, even if he lives on an even stricter GF regimen than I do... leaving many childhood favorites in the "Forbidden!" category. He got what he needed, with his and his mama's fight, and their faith.

Ghost Towns

I've been really enjoying Radical Face's "Family Tree: The Roots"---(the best seller will likely be Ghost Towns, simply because it grabs you and won't let go.) This is a 3 CD project, along with a free "prequel" that's not bad at all, "The Bastards: Volume One". The music all comes together to tell a tale of a family. On The Roots, no instrument was used that did not exist in the 19th century.

It's sublimely strong, and grabs your attention.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

Sunsets, Frozen Lakes, and Lighthouses

From September, 2009... I love that it looks like a painting.

A beautiful sunset over Lake Erie. 
frozen lake at sunrise
Light house near Chautauqua Lake. 
Nature needs no enhancement to shine. :)

These are old, pics I managed to find when I needed a bit of beauty... and God, I do love sunsets...and particularly colorful sunrises.
oh, a gorgeous find on a dark day!

Riding Through The Desert On A Horse With No Name

It is time I learned: I can't please them all. It's me, and those who care about me, and whom I care for, that I will focus on. The rest? As always--be nice but keep at arms' length.

No, I will not stop being myself, just because people don't like it.
I will continue working on bad habits I want squelched. For ME.
I will not stand by and let people hurt because of me.
I will not stop being nice, even if people do think it's artificial. I will not step down from defending myself if I need to.
I will say no.
That I'm a target because unlike some I will not sit and say nasty things for fun? Because, yes, I want people to be happy? Because I am what I am? Meh. People need to work on insults... passive-aggressive, sanctimonious? They don't work on me. I've heard it all before. And "stupid"? Meh. Try something new.
I won't be changed to fit.
No, I will not "dangle myself" in front of anyone for their friendship.
I won't tell a white lie, blow sunshine up your skirts.
Yes, I get mad on occasion. Yes, I can curse up a blue streak when I do.

I've got my full plate. I have things that have improved, I have things I am improving. I will absorb nutrients. I will show the doctors who said I'd be dead at 30. I will come to terms with grief recently re-opened, and people who know too much about the past and cannot shut up about it, thus leaving a new wound bleeding.
Yeah, I'm bleeding.
But I count my blessings. There are people, and wonderful things they've done. I can't count them on both hands, all my toes--- they are marvelous, and I am grateful.

If I am disliked because I am what I am? Tough cookies! I like me. No, I don't fall in love with me when I look in a mirror. Sure, I have moments. But... I like what's happened, happening, and will happen.
I have looked death in the eyeball, and laughed
I have lived through many a dark time, and come out stronger.
I have not lost faith.
No bragging... I can't take credit. I count, both those who have held my hand as I walked through hell, and those who tried to break me. Without them, I wouldn't have learned.

Time For Holiday Cheer

Finding old paperwork, and being the type of person who can tell when the worst of it is around (no matter how well hidden) particularly when the problem is one I haven't come to terms with, sucks. You know it's there... you know where you hid it. *sigh*

But Advent is here, as of the 27th, and it's time to get ready. To show joy, faith, peace, and goodwill to all men. I can't let a tiny thing keep me from acting like myself. Oh, no, it's time to brighten up!

First steps: decorating a tiny apartment. We'll see how this goes.
Cheer and brightness is needed. The rest, will have to fall where it may.

Sunday, November 27, 2011


Warning! The following is rather disturbing. 

This is a recording made over 100 years ago by Thomas Edison. It records the last surviving castrato (at that time) singing Ave Maria. Historically, it is a thing of value. On the ear, it may grate. (I can't hear some of it) the slight sobbing sound in the voice was taught at the time.

Now, a basic rundown on castrati:
Let's say you're a poor family. You have a son with a gorgeous voice. Now, before the testicles drop and testosterone allows the voice to deepen, you take Junior to the doctor...and lop 'em off!

Castrati were given heroic roles. They also, despite lack of testosterone, were known to be great lovers.
Castrati tended to have longer limbs and ribcages, which aided in their vocal power.

At the time of this recording, Alessandro Moreschi was older... and his voice had, in time lost some power. But on a historic level, this is quite the find.

Saturday, November 26, 2011

Bits And Pieces

Favorite songs of the moment...
I'm torn between David Bowie's "Life On Mars" and the Dynamo's "Woh! Woh! Yea! Yea!"- the second is so old fashioned, so "beachy"-sounding, and so innocent and happy that it's just adorable. But, uh, yes, repetitive.

 Huge pet peeve...
I hate chunky tomato sauce. Meat sauce should be lots of beef, and no chunks of tomato. I also detest eating a slice of GF pizza and realizing the sauce isn't as smooth as it should be.

I'm attempting to learn a fishtail braid. So far, my hair is just too slippery.

On the subject of hair, I'm thinking of something fun for the holidays. I might get some gold tinsel twisted in.

Basically, I'm studying, reading, and have my Christmas stuff ready when I'm ready--- including the very tiny and cute dollhouse sized Christmas tree.

Thursday, November 24, 2011

Fairytale of New York

They've got cars big as bars and rivers of gold, but the wind goes right through you, it's no place for the old.

Because my other favorite Pogues song, If I Should Fall From Grace With God is doing time in Subaru commercial hell (Great imagery, I had to laugh when I saw kids oh so happily playing hockey with such lyrics as If I should fall from grace with God, where no doctor can relieve me, if I'm buried 'neath the sod, still the angels won't receive me, let me go, boys, let me go boys, way down where the rivers all run dry- oh, my, yes, I always look back on my youth and think of rather fatalistic music, don't you?)
and it is the holiday season, the only Christmas song I know where the words "Slut, faggot, and cheap lousy maggot", not to mention, "arse". are used. Still, a very big, beautiful song. And yes, that is Matt Dillon playing a cop.

A Very Special Thanksgiving Taste Test

She is a little beauty.
This week, not only am I taste-testing (remember: nothing gets served, to anyone, unless it passes MY inspection first) but I am breaking in a new crockpot that is not dollhouse sized! And I've craved turkey noodle soup for a while now!

  • Ingredients: 
  • First up: about a container and a half of turkey stock. Buy extra. 
  • To this, add: 
  • Baby carrots, 1/2 package to a package
  • 3 celery stalks

  • Pepper, salt, and oregano to taste. I am a "By feel" cook, but about 1/2 tsp of each ought to do it.
  • 1/2 an onion
  • A turkey breast. Whichever turkey sported this had about a D cup!
  • 1 small onion
  • Package of noodles...add last, about 3-4 hours in. 

  • Cut turkey into edible chunks.
  • Chop onion and celery, just toss in baby carrots.
  • Place all in crockpot. Except the noodles.
  • Cook on low for 4 hours. 
  • Add noodles
  • Cook for half hour on high
  • Or Until Noodles are Soft
  • Eat!

Wednesday, November 23, 2011

Counting My Blessings

Here's to you:

Dear Mom, who never let me say "I can't", even when physical therapy and math caused migraines, or I hit a plateau, but urged me to keep trying. Who tried her damnedest in 28 years to help me be healthy, to communicate, to fight. To never take no for an answer. I love you. Thank you.

To friends who wouldn't let me wallow in my own sickness- who helped me even if at first, I was embarrassed they had to see me so rough... thank you.

Thank you. I am so blessed, I could just split in two!
A toast. And many thank yous to come. I am thankful, from the heart of my bottom :)

Tuesday, November 22, 2011

"I Don't Give a Flying Fig" Takes On New Meaning

look at this and try not to do a Beavis and Butthead laugh, I dare you!
Today, this masochist found herself grocery shopping-- and stumbled upon a large, purplish-green leafed plant. Being ever curious, and ever prone to accidents in the language department, I held up this plant, with it's three large testicle shaped growths (fruits) and asked, intending on finding out the species, "Hey, what do these look like?" I wanted a species classification, not a smirk and "You're so adorable, sweetie"! Next time, I should be blunt "Yes, I do know it looks like three overgrown testicles. What is it?" Upon terrifying myself with a google search, I realize I was holding up figs.

It was an interesting day... although I also did the mundane like buying towels, sheets and deodorant and getting the curls tamed (NOT! I snipped an inch off to try to get rid of old growth without losing length. I now am rocking the Shirley Temple look.)

For now, to rest... shopping two days before Thansgiving, ach du lieber! What was I thinking?!
I have a new crockpot to break in, which is great.. because I have a recipe to test, and my turkey breasts are at least a D cup. The little one wouldn't have been able to hack it.

And, since I took a solitary run down the detergent aisle, I should probably try to unstuff my nose (since I had a nose bleed the other day, this isn't easy) and get some rest.

And, since the fruit of a fig is shaped like a testicle, I do look at the story of Jesus cursing a fig tree quite differently now.
1 inch cut from layers---and the curls run amok. Amok! Amok!

Monday, November 21, 2011

Just Another Christmas Song

A special bit of fun, once a year, and it sure rescues me from the horrid anger I feel every time I hear "The Little Drummer Boy". I'll save the Sweet Valencia oranges for eating as opposed to swingin' 'em.

Forgiveness and Reconciliation

In their own way, through whatever motive they have had, those who have hurt me have taught me valid lessons. Listen to myself. Don't let misplaced feelings keep me from caring for myself, from letting myself heal.
It's a terrible time of year to do this, so pat, so trite--- and could be, so much tripe. (Not the cow's stomach meal I hear is delightfully disgusting, the other meaning, which, in the words of Shakespeare, is simply, sound and fury, signifying nothing.) But reconciliation must first come within, and towards, ourselves.

I thank, with no rancor in my heart, with no sarcasm, those who have caused pain. In doing so, you have helped me to heal, to grow, to evolve. To become stronger.
I thank those who have helped me when I was in pain. It means the world to me.

Let there be... yes, peace on earth, and let it begin with me. I must learn to put the darkness in its' context, to learn from it, and move on into the light.

I deal, in my own time, and with extreme gallows humor, with pain. I also remember that the first person I need to come to terms with, and to forgive, is me. I need to know that I cannot be a door mat, that I must say, straight out "Ok, you've gone too far". I must state when I need to go to a quiet state, to think, before I take further action.  I must do so, without first letting it eat at me until I explode. I must remember to not let myself get so busy that I neglect myself.

I also must remember: I cannot do it all. That there are things I am uncomfortable with and must say, honestly "I am sorry. I can't deal with that." because holding back anger, or pain, or disagreement so no one will be mad? That hurts too. And causes further issues in the future.

I have to learn to say "no", that's also true.

Money is not worth health and well-being.
To sacrifice yourself until you are so wound up you can't heal is dangerous, and is not good for you or those around you.

Love you, first... know yourself.
And don't give up faith--- or attempting to see the goodness in mankind, which, if you look for it, are sure to find.

Sunday, November 20, 2011

Once More: What Is This World Coming To?

There are a few things that will get me steaming mad, ask no questions. One of them is treating the disabled of any variety as if they are less than human. And for God's sake, infantalizing them when they're actually rather high functioning.

I'm looking at you, Mrs. Cohen from eighth grade. You, who told me I must bow my head before my betters. You who injured me physically. I do not hold grief over your subsequent firing, I do however have a bit of sadness when I recall that one of your sons is disabled.)

A child is a child is a child. They are children, with needs for love, respect and discipline (in the original sense... teaching, not punishment) first, foremost, and above all. 

A mother took it upon herself to bug her disabled child. And was alarmed at what she must have suspected, being broadcast back to her.

It wasn't a child affected by disability acting up. It was her teachers, those who should have tried to teach her within the best of their ability, to protect her. I read it, I clicked for extra information. The Stir and News of the Weird's Chuck Shepherd are both posting links, and I admit, I have a certain morbid fascination with seeing how this pans out.

1)Mother plants listening device on child
2)Overhears such lovely and demeaning conversations regarding her "fat, lazy child"
3)Overhears mockery of child (By an aide and a teacher, not other students) including "There's no wonder you have no friends" and "I don't need your test to fail you. You failed."

And because I'm currently incapable of looking at this objectively, links!
A few months ago, I think I had a mild conniption when a teenager with disabilities was told that her rape was her fault because SHE had not protected herself from a bullying student...by SCHOOL OFFICIALS.
Screw the public school system... I'd homeschool and live in a freakin' commune if I have to.
Parents: Protect your children. Let that Mama Lion Syndrome run free! And if you cannot, ensure that those the state pays for your child's education and safety actually do their jobs. Don't worry about being a pain in the ass for a school.
The Stir's Take
From the AP

And now, I need a walk.

Friday, November 18, 2011


I'm going to throw the gauntlet. In this world, so many things can go wrong, all at once. It's a shame that we really only remember both gratitude and "Good will towards all men" once a year, if that. But: first I will challenge myself, and then if you choose to accept it, I challenge you to come up with things YOU are grateful for.

1)When I think about it, I am still the healthiest I've ever been.
2)My family and my friends: I don't know what I'd do without you!
3)A somewhat mild, and beautiful November, weird weather and leaves that seemed to fall way too soon, be darned.
4)Johnson's Baby Vapor Bath... oh, God, it really is a miracle
5)Patience when I've been a huge mess, and help when needed and I remember to accept it.
6)The capability to remember all sorts of information as clearly as a photograph.
7)BOOKS! I love them! :)
8)My celiac diagnosis, without which, I'd still be eating things that were actually poisoning me, all for health.
9)Food... Pamela's Double Chocolate Chocolate Chunk cookie, especially. That's a lot of cocoa, and it's hard to believe that they're dairy free as well as gluten free
10)My own natural stubbornness, without which, I would not be alive today. After seeing a billboard saying, in large letters:  "Being stubborn kills", I had to smile grimly. Not always!
11)People who have been there, no matter what, no matter how stubborn or what a mess I was
12)the new attitude: Sometimes, you have to remember to rest, and if it's too much, walk away, take a breather.
13)YOU. Yeah, you. You know who you are!
14)Caffeine! For comfort, for warmth, for a kick when I need it
15)Those who cared enough to give me a gentle kick in the butt when I needed it.
16)For those I may not talk to anymore, but recall with fondness and not an ounce of rancor.
17)For those I kept.
18)For tough times, because sometimes, it is how we grow
19)For growth
20)For those I call my special blessings.
I am a blessed, and grateful little goofball.

Wednesday, November 16, 2011

Memories of Waffles Past

Everyone has food issues. Some texture, some allergies, some "other".
I have a lovely batch of them. Yet, I really do enjoy cooking, baking, etc.

I was diagnosed with Celiac Disease in November, 2009.
Now, my mother is occasionally showing signs of discomfort with wheat. She suspects my father of having them, as he always got sick when he ate wheat.

I don't remember much of this with clarity, but I remember when I was at the Montessori School, and our teachers decided to give us homemade waffles. I don't remember the day--- I probably played with Peter, an autistic child, in the sandbox again, as I did it quite often. I also know we probably trooped down to go for a swim. But I remember waffles, and what must have been a typical day. Then I remember Mom and her 1983 Ford truck... which I recall fondly... and a trip, heavens knows where, after school. I was beginning to feel sick and panicky and must have made some gestures that I wasn't quite right. Suddenly, I was sitting, covered in the mess of the waffles I'd had hours before. Knowing Mom as I do, even on that day in 1986, I am certain she went beserk.

In 2011, we have more incidents than ever before. What has society been telling us about eating healthy? Much of what I'd been told, in efforts to get me healthy has been wrong. Now I have to get myself together, and I daresay, many medical professionals I've had the honor of knowing, should perhaps put themselves to better use with their hands up a cat's behind. I am healthier now. Now, I need to build my immunity and get my vitamin levels up. Hopefully, we won't need shots anymore.

As for me, I'm going to continue to fight for health.