Monthly Archives: September 2008

what are they teaching my kindergartener to sing?

Kid came home from kindergarten today singing this song:

we’re going to Kentucky,
we’re going to the fair,
to see a senorita
with roses in her hair.

so shake it, baby, shake it,
shake it all you can,
shake it like a milkshake,
and drink it if you can.

so one more to the bottom,
and one more to the top,
turn around, turn around,
until you make it stop.

WTF??

Do you know this song? To me, it sounds like some guy going to….”visit” his “girl” for some “quality time.” Maybe Kid got the words wrong? Or, maybe I’m just watching too much porn online filthy-minded?

Is Mr. Musicteacher having a nice little chuckle to himself? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge.

What does this song mean to you?

And what’s the next song for the kindergarteners…..? Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall….

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Project Runway, when the designers do each other

This episode showed me just how slow my mind has become, post-childbearing. No one ever told me that “milk brain” lasts for…..ever. The five remaining designers had to design an outfit for each other, in a particular musical genre. I was so confused. Every time I looked at what one designer wore I had to remember which other designer did the actual designing. A designer becoming a model on PR is like holding a mirror up to a mirror. Or maybe it’s more like telling me to call Ernie, “Bert”, and call Bert, “Ernie.” Either way, it gave me a headache.

Thank God that woman who looked like Leanne was already eliminated, or I would have had to take out my contacts and watch the rest of the show as a blur.

Once I finally got it straight at the end, in front of the judges, I realized Leanne looked ridiculous because of Kenley. Nice. You could tell those two were never friends.

kenley.jpgIs everyone sick of Kenley, now, by the way? Has she diss’d Tim enough, yet? Dear, sweet Tim. I am all for arrogant artists remaining true to their vision (as you can tell from this blog, right?), but Kenley, oh Kenley, grow up. Tim knows of which he speaks, and he is no Simon Cowell. You can see he cares about these arrogant ingrates creative newcomers.

And Suede, well, Suede got to wear the winning outfit when he got booted. So he looked good leaving.

Hey, anyone notice a resemblance to our democratic primary with who might be in the finals? We’re down to Korto, Jerrell, Leanne and Kenley. We’ll either have a woman, an African American or both as the winner. I’m hoping for the both (Korto)! Foreshadowing by the producers? Another move by that “liberal Hollywood” to subtly push this country left? Dumb luck?

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Take It Back Tuesday, or your tutorial on how to smoke salmon at home

[I know, not Tuesday. I was supposed to post this Tuesday, last week. Or maybe a few weeks ago...if you ask the Hubs.]

You may recall this:
dsc_0041.JPGI may have laughed at it, or tried to get you to laugh at it (well, it WAS kinda funny-looking).

Now it looks like this:
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The hubs built it from scratch (faster and more completely than with as much attention to detail as any other house project here….).

For all the time and energy involved, it does make amazing smoked salmon. Here’s how to make Kenai style, Alaska smoked salmon:

First, get a bunch of Alaskan salmon. We have our secret sources….
dsc_0067-1.JPGAfter a brine soak, that fish gets sliced into long, two-inch wide strips that are hung on string across a 2×4. The boards are hung across the top inside of the smoker, like so:

dsc_0014-2.JPGdsc_0069.JPGFish smokes for about 6 hours. The fire box sits 15 feet away from the smoker for a “cold smoke” effect. We preferred using alder wood for the fire, which is supposed to stay between 70 and 90 degrees. If you sleep late are not careful, you end up watching the fire into the night….
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When the smoking is done, you bring out the fish. Beware of predators, all along the way.
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dsc_0030.JPGThose smoked strips are cut into chunks, according to the specially-made, specifically-measured cutting board. Did I mention the hubs made that cutting board himself? The chunks go into the wide mouth, half pint, mason jars with a jalapeno slice on the bottom and extra virgin olive oil on top. Those are placed with water into the big pot for 100 hours minutes to cook the fish and seal the jars.

dsc_0046.JPGI mentioned the predators, right?

After you’ve taken care of the Kid all day, for two days and no breaks the hubs does all this meticulous work, you get this:
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Which tastes YYYYYUUUUUUUMMMMMEEEEEEEEEEEE.

And may attract people constantly hitting you up for fish a few cats.

But which is totally worth all the time, money, vacation days and late night energy. Totally.

How’s that, hubs?

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If you wanna know how my birthday weekend got better….

you can click here to find out.

img_0034.JPGIf you’re feeling lazy and don’t click there, you’ll miss reading my trip report from Great Wolf Lodge, a hotel/indoor waterpark with several locations throughout the U.S. We visited the only one on the west coast, in Grand Mound, WA. Come on, you know you’re curious.

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Learn-A-Word Wednesday: harridan \HAIR-uh-din\

noun:

A worn-out strumpet; a vixenish woman; a hag.

As the vulgar, scornful, desperate Martha, Miss Hagen makes a tormented harridan horrifyingly believable.
– Howard Taubman, “The Theater: Albee’s ‘Who’s Afraid’”, New York Times, October 15, 1962

Harridan probably comes from French haridelle, “a worn-out horse, a gaunt woman.”

Seems like I should have known this word. Do you?

Now that I had that exciting birthday, I’m particularly feeling the “worn-out” part of this definition. Not so much the strumpet part, although I do love the word, “strumpet.” It sounds so….perky and fun.

Buying these the other day at the grocery store may have added to my worn-out feeling:

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I’ve been nearsighted for decades (oh, I AM so old). If I can’t see up close now as I round over the hill, what is left? Eyeball transplant? Next year, maybe I’ll have the thrill of graduating to bifocal contact lenses. I just don’t even comprehend how those work, swirling around on my eyeball. Look, up close! Now, look far away! How do you not get a headache?

At least now with these little blue babies, I can see my fingernails to file them. We harridans need to keep our nails in shape.

Know any harridans? You don’t have to name names….

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I’m NOT your…..

This week’s writing suggestion from Absolutely Bananas is to finish this sentence: I’m your mother, not your ________.

And what do I always end up saying? Well, here’s what I’m trying to tell Kid that I’m not:

sedanchair.jpg

OK. Maybe I don’t actually say, “I’m your mother, not your MINJIAO!!!” But if I knew that word before today, I am sure I would have used it.

It would happen right after Kid would stretch her long arms up and sweetly say, “Mommy, will you carry meeeeeeee?”

Which happens after school, at the park, and in the kitchen.

See, I used to be her minjiao, so I can understand her confusion. But that was a good 20 lbs ago. Her weight, people, not mine. You know, when she was a toddler. We’re all minjiaos then for our kids, right?

Really, the one you should feel sorry for is not me, it’s Dog. Because Kid is trying to sign her up as the minjiao now. Too bad they weigh about the same. And Dog has bigger teeth.

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graduates of snooze at Project Runway

(Don’t think I missed an episode! I’m a little slow on this one because I was distracted with all my birthday events….)

Project Runway this week last week had recent college graduates getting a makeover by the designers. Pardon my yawn, but this episode was a little on the D-U-L-L side. No shrieking moms. Huh? “We wondered who was going to get the head of lettuce,” one designer said when Leanne’s pair of graduate and mom was a little difficult. But they calmed down and were boring after all. And what is a “head of lettuce” anyways?? Watery and flaky? Green and tight? Flavorless and skinny?

joe.jpgMost boring was Joe. His suit looked like a drunken law school graduate’s suit, not a young graphic designer interview outfit. And I ought to know. Bye, Joe.

kenley.jpgKenley is getting boring in her own way, too. Her own way, all the time, her own way. Reminds me of a certain Kid I know and live with…. She finally has a youngster to mold and what does she do? A mini-me. Way to stretch.

jerell.jpgJerell‘s was fine and all (I liked the top), but….yawn….where are the drag queens when you need them?

Or at least Blayne or Stelllaaaaaaah.

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