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Kitchen Utensils: Spatulas, Presses & Spoons

by Lucky Red Hen on June 10, 2011

Spatulas: Why do they make some that can’t handle high heat? Aren’t spatulas made for flipping hot skillet foods (eggs, pancakes, meats, etc.)? I can’t remember which spatula can handle hot and which one cannot. They should ALL be high-heat resistant. If I need to flip cold stuff, I could use my hands. {or leave it unflipped}

If most of the utensils in the dishwasher are spoons, shouldn’t that be a warning that you consume way too much cereal and/or ice cream? {yes, there is such a thing as too much}

Cutting French bread that’s been cut in half and slathered in butter (particularly garlic butter with herbs) creates a dilemma. Trying to slice into individual pieces while butter-side up makes a crushed mess. The better way to get slices without crushing it to smithereens would be to turn it butter-side down, but then you lose buttery goodness. {sigh}

As garlic presses go, I think I have tried enough to conclude that the Pampered Chef one is the bomb. I have had an OXO, Cutco (great knives, crappy garlic press) and other non-recognizable brand presses and the PC one reigns supreme. You don’t need to peel the garlic before sticking it in the press and it gets it ALL minced without leftovers. {I don’t dig waste}

By the way, if you need to peel your garlic, stick it in your rubber husband (that’s what we call our rubber jar opener thingys) and roll it around your hand or on the counter a few times. {instead of buying Martha’s expensive rubber tube that does the same thing}

Tongs in long and short versions are always handy and pretty cheap. I suggest having the kind that have a lever at the bend that locks them closed for easy storage. The kind with the metal ring you push back and forth to lock seem to malfunction and cause me grief. Less grief in my kitchen the better. {which means I might cook more often}

Have you heard of a butter bell? It’s a European thing, that allows you to have room temperature butter without worry of spoiling. There are physics involved, which isn’t my strong suit, so know that it works without needing to know how (the water in the crock creates an airtight seal, which prevents spoiling/bacteria to form). We recently said “peace out” to the perfectly red Fiesta Ware-type butter dish when it accidentally crashed to the floor, so our room temperature butter sits on a mini-plate on the counter. Gross, I know, but we need soft butter at a moments notice. {margarine won’t do}

Anything you want to add or suggest? Stick it in the comments!

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Respectful Disagreements on Breastfeeding

by Lucky Red Hen on April 28, 2011

Recently, I’ve had friends blog and Tweet about the support of breastfeeding anywhere, anytime, and without covering up (I lurv those friends, this post isn’t about them). Then this section of a KSL.com article got some pretty feisty comments on their Facebook page and I couldn’t keep from saying something about the ruckus.

Cover it up!
Nursing mothers should avoid breastfeeding uncovered around others. Ottley said she is a huge proponent of breastfeeding, having breastfed four children herself, but there’s a way it can be done in public without making others feel uncomfortable. In public places, or when others besides your significant other and children will be around (and maybe your sisters and mom), figure out the best way to cover yourselves and do it, please.

I’m a little appalled by the way most of the proponents chose to defend their opinion. However, I DO believe they have the right, and it’s necessary, to voice their opinion; but wish they would do so politely.

Oh, wait. But they don’t want to be polite. They want to do whatever they want, whenever they want, and however they want with no regard for those around them; everyone else should mind their own business and get over it. That IS pretty much the gist of what their argument is about when all that was said was “cover up, please.”

Here is the comment I posted, trying to explain why some prefer not to see uncovered public breastfeeding (not trying to change anyone’s mind about how they should feel about it… I understand their POV, why can’t they understand, not agree, the opposing view?):

My opinion: I agree with the writer for suggesting that it’s polite to cover up while breast feeding in public.

It’s polite to fart away from people. It’s polite to wipe food from outside your mouth with a napkin. It’s polite to pull up your pants so your butt crack isn’t showing. It’s polite to cover your mouth when you cough or sneeze. These are all natural things that pretty much everyone does that society has deemed appropriate behavior even though it’s legal to fart wherever you want, leave food on your face, wear your pants down low and cough or sneeze without catching it.

The issue isn’t that the baby is being FED, of COURSE the baby should be fed at anytime that it needs food.

Breast feeding is WONDERFULLY BEAUTIFUL… so is French kissing but it’s generally not done blatantly in public because it’s polite to go somewhere private to do so. Is that a better analogy?

I’m not saying that breastfeeding is like or comparable to those acts (maybe I should have said metaphor or simile; perhaps I’ll be studying a dictionary later). I’m saying that we have public behavior and private behavior. I believe we should conduct ourselves based on the circumstance. We are quiet in a library, we can yell in a park. You dress up for the red carpet, wear sweats at home while watching TV. The dog has to have a leash in town, but at home he’s free to roam.

For crying out loud I’m not saying that feeding a baby is like being in a library, going out to somewhere fancy, watching TV, or a DOG.

If I were to travel to Japan, I would find out what the customs are and do my best to respect their culture; remove my shoes upon entering their house, bow to the elders with respect, use chopsticks instead of a fork (I can do it, it just gets a little messy sometimes).

There were some rude things also said about/to the author of the article on that Facebook page. Without KNOWING the author or commentors, here are some comment snips:

  • breastfeeding mothers… have to deal with this type of hate on them?
  • If someone is so twisted that an innocent baby eating offends them, THEY should cover their head with a blanket. Smarten up and CHANGE YOUR ARTICLE!
  • That’s just daft and an example of poor writing.
  • It is articles like this that help continue the dismal breastfeeding rates… we make them feel like exhibitionists or morally inept… while in the presence of anybody other than their dog in the dark of their homes with the shades drawn! It’s absurd! Please stop letting your issues with the human body jeopardize the health of any mothers and babies by putting out such irresponsible and ignorant articles!
  • we are more comfortable seeing breasts when they are airbrushed and sexualized in print or film, rather than fulfilling their original purpose
  • …illogical sexual undertone to process of feeding an infant at the breast while at the same time encouraging our preteen girls to dress provocatively and allowing TV shows to sexualize nearly everything!
  • Dear [Author]: PLEASE put a bag or a blanket over YOUR head while YOU are eating!
  • to the author, if you wanted to broadcast your anti-breasts agenda, why try to hide it in a piece about pregnancy? It didn’t work anyway.
  • positively infantile preoccupation with bosoms!
  • hiring etiquette writers who have an education and are able to demonstrate a familiarity with their topic
  • a healthy number of lulzy prudes squabbling with them. Pathetic. Sad. As pathetic as hiring some ditz who, going by her blog, struggles with some pretty basic rules of English, and pretending that this person has some useful insight into culture.
  • holy fragglenuggets! get some HELP
  • (To a commentor) I hope you someday realise how sick you are before someone has to shoot you like a rabid dog.
  • I believe the etiquette expert should apologize to everyone she has offended.
  • Maybe they could use a real expert this time.

This afternoon I visited with a couple who I’ve known for over ten years. It seems that we believe almost the opposite of each other of most taboo subjects (politics, religion, sex), yet we love each other very, very much. We talked about how our written words can get lost in our meaning or intent. Without seeing the face that’s saying it, or hearing the tone, the words are interpreted however the reader hears it in their head. Our desire to get to the point and avoid the fluff gets the three of us in trouble sometimes. What we say in a few sentences takes others paragraphs of filler because we’re to-the-point and they’re side-stepping to avoid hurting feelings (which does not mean I like to hurt feelings).

“I kicked the dog,” said in a soft tone, slight down tilt of the lips, and an emphasis on kicked to denote shock or sorrow (as in it-was-an-accident and I didn’t see the dog under my feet) is written the same but meant entirely different from “I kicked the dog,” said with a scowl, gritted teeth, and an emphasis on I to denote pride in the act (because the guy is a jerk).

Although this post is all about public breastfeeding, I really meant for it to be about the way we disagree and conduct discussions on differing opinion.

And to bouy my emotions back to a regular level (and probably give me a little justification that I’m not twisted), I’ll share this snip from someone who wrote to me about the other commentors vs. my comment:

Absolutely shocked. And saddened. I realize opinions always open the door to criticism, but I greatly admire a woman who can express that criticism in a respectful and courteous way.

Agreed.

P.S. Remember, keep comments classy, folks :)

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I Make My Own Path in This World

by Lucky Red Hen on April 25, 2011

Very few times have I watched figure skating on TV, so I’m not familiar with Johnny Weir, but I’m impressed with what I’ve learned in this short article and accompanying video(s).

The interview was largely about how Weir decided to work hard for his dreams (he comes from a small town) and that he lives his life exactly how he wants (dressing in flamboyant attire; “Too much is not enough.”) and not how others tell him to be.

“I don’t need to answer to anybody.
I make my own path in this world.”

That statement is very powerful. It’s something that I wish more young people would embrace. Being confident in who you are and sharing that with the people you meet (on the street each day… Sesame Street, anyone?) to infect others with a higher self esteem (which, I feel, is lacking in many people these days… I wonder why that is.)

Of course that doesn’t mean we should be a jerk while embracing this idea. But Johnny has a cool disposition (in the few videos I’ve just watched of him this morning), is poised and polite.

When he addresses his feelings toward the 2010 Olympic gold medalist, Evan Lysacek, who’s beat Johnny two years in a row, I feel he is speaking honestly when he says, “I absolutely hold no grudges against Evan. Of course he was important in my life, simply because he was my biggest rival from the United States. He’s the Olympic champion and a world champion, and of course I’m jealous of those things that he has. But that’s the only jealousy or grudge I hold against him.”

Those last two sentences are what impress me… he’s jealous of the things he has, but that’s all. He doesn’t dwell on the fact that Evan has bested him or punish himself for not being as good, he instead has a healthy attitude toward his rival by recognizing his accomplishments and not attacking his character.

This is a highly combustive subject so I’ll just share what Weir pointed out about being a gay man. Meredith Vieira asked about “coming out” and he said:

“I’m very surprised by the reaction, because I’ve never lived in a closet. I’ve never claimed to be straight or gay, I claimed to be Johnny Weir. And that’s something I think is very important for anybody in this world is to own who you are, regardless of what you’re born into. I was born a white male, a white gay male, and I don’t celebrate being white or male, so why should I celebrate being gay? That’s my opinion on the whole thing.”

This man impresses me with his demeanor and inspires me to be proud of  and work hard at what I am good at, not dwell on what I’m not good at or the things I have little or no control to change.

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San Antonio: That’s a Yes!

by Lucky Red Hen on April 22, 2011

(LOTS of iPhone photos in this long-winded post about my trip to San Antonio, TX)

This is me with my friend Emily at The Alamo in San Antonio, Texas. Wanna know how we met?… (say it with a redneck accent) on the innernet. Twitter, specifically.

What?!? YOU don’t meet people in person you know from the internet? O_o

As much as you may find it weird that I do, I may find it weird that you don’t :D

She and I follow some of the same people on Twitter. We both replied to those same people’s tweets and saw each others replies. We found each other to be hilarious, so we started following each other. I whined about my ugly blog and she’s The Blog Fairy. BUT (that’s a BIG BUT that’swhatshesaid) she was on hiatus and had a long waiting list. I whined some more and made her laugh even more until I forced her out of hiding and conned her into helping me (and by “helping” I mean doing it for me) by sending her a check AND hand making her this…

It’s an applique’d bird on wool felt that I sewed into a mini book cover. The ribbon out the bottom is an attached bookmark. My MIL (she’s SO clever) came up with the idea to make cute tweetie birds on the front after seeing something similar on Etsy (I love that place.) It took ALL DAY (about 8 hours, on and off) to make this one. The most time sucking step was picking the coordinating fabrics. Oy vey!

During the intense blog transformation, Emily and I texted, emailed, and Skyped (she’s my first experience at Skyping; we even had a three-way with my host company… and by host company I mean my friend who troubleshoots my hubby’s host company business). I met her hubby when he came into the room during a Skype session once and her kids several times as we trudged through the blog designing. It felt as if we were already good friends in a short amount of time.

Wait a minute… what’s the parameter to figure out who is or isn’t a Good Friend? And why is there a stigma about meeting on the internet? Why does it seem that it’s better that people meet in a bar, at college, at a party, at church, or at work than online?

I’m sure there has to be the same ratio of gems vs. non-gems (at first I said losers, but just because you don’t pick someone as a gem doesn’t mean they’re a loser) whether there are 100 people at church, 100 at a bar, 100 at college (small college, haha), 100 at a party, or 100 online.

Anywho… this post is supposed to be about my trip to San Antonio, not a debate on how we meet people (although I will give you a teaser… I invited someone who I met on the internet write up their perspective of our friendship. That will come sometime in May after finals.)

Emily mentioned that their family hasn’t had a professional group photo taken since her first/oldest was a baby (she’s 9) and now they have three kids and no family photo. So sometime in February I said, fly me down (I hadn’t ever been to San Antonio), feed, house, entertain me and I’ll take your family photos. Done! We booked the flight for April, before Texas got too hot (it was 95 degrees there my last day).

From the airport we went straight to the famous river walk for dinner (met another friend, a duck, who wanted my fries) then across the street to The Alamo.

Officer Martinez gave me the 30-minute “gist” of The Alamo and Texas history.

Found this welcome note in my room (a.k.a. the 9 year old’s room)…

THEN (that’s supposed to be a BIG then) we got to meet up with my visiting-from-Utah @Suedonym, 007, and The Princess for lunch Thursday at the Food Network famous Mi Tierra & Bakery. On Monday we had no idea we would both be in San Antonio at the same time until Sue tweeted something about how she’s at The Alamo, can’t find her bike, and there’s NO BASEMENT. Emily asked me if Sue lives in or is visiting SA, I texted Sue and found out they’re there on vacation and lunch plans were in motion! The food was delish and we got to people watch while eating on the patio.

Speaking of people watch… it happened to be Fiesta so there were crowds everywhere, parking nowhere (except in $15 lots), Mexican bands playing (their tubas), and bright colored flowers on everything. Like this entire outfit… (yikes!)

I almost bought two of these shirts for friends, but took a photo instead.

On our way back home from downtown San Antonio, we swung through Gruene, TX to scout out where we’d take the family photos, did some looking through the shops, and had lunch at the Grist Mill (I should’ve taken pictures of that place, it’s incredible and I’ve seen NOTHING like it; if you’re in Gruene, GO THERE).

I’d really REALLY love to own this red glass cake plate from the antique store in Guene, but it cost one hundred and too many dollars. It’s. Absolutely. Divine.

While walking through the shop, a ball-cap-wearing teenage boy stepped out of the way so I could pass. I said, “Thanks.” He replied, almost under his breath because he probably says it ALL the time, “Yes, ma’am.” And not in an you’re-so-old kind of tone, but in a polite and courteous way. I tracked his mom down and told her how he warmed my heart; she thanked me profusely because, she says, he doesn’t always show good manners at home. Awe.

Speaking of expensively divine objects of my affection: Under a bunch of other antique silver cigarette cases on the bottom shelf of the cashier jewelry case was this beauty (that could double as a business card holder; or just lay pretty in my hand)…

I found it at Uncommon Objects in Austin last Friday, but didn’t have $89 to spend on frivolous things. If it’s still there, you’re welcome to buy it for me (my birthday is coming up, wink wink). No really, I’m serious. I shouldn’t crave it, but I do.

Across the street from the store (which holds the object of my desire, *ahem*) is the renowned Cutie Pies (closed for the day). We quenched our after lunch sugar need with a whippersnapper shot (fresh whipped cream shoved into the middle of the cupcake with adequate spillage up top) in our giant baked treats at Hey Cupcake.

But that was AFTER meeting up for lunch at  with yet ANOTHER Twitter persona who neither of us have met before… @JennieBakesALot!

We had fun talking Twitter, blogging, mom stuff, and food. We met at Torchy’s Tacos and took some pictures in front of the little logo guy and the golden wall of oddities.

On our way back to the house, The Hotlight was on. Do you know what The Hotlight is? It’s the devil’s beacon and I hate that I now love it. I have, since that day, dreamed of it at night more than once. I didn’t really know it before this day. I mean, I knew OF it, but haven’t experienced it for myself. When The Hotlight is ON, you get a FREE, hot off the press, classic glazed donut

THAT MELTS IN YOUR MOUTH, PEOPLE!!!

Please. If you’ve never tried it, DON’T. Trust me. Unless you want to be a slave to The Hotlight (much like being under a trance, with the undeniable magnetic pull) heed my warning.

Saturday on our way back from taking family photos, we drove to this weird thing (it was a surprise, we were just told we would see something “weird”) and boy was it weird! Beautiful to see in person (despite not understanding why it’s a ginormous, at least 20 feet, scrap metal deer sculpture in the middle of a housing development).

I feel like I’ve gone on forever and ever (plus there’s a zillion photos on this post). Sunday Emily made us delicious waffles, we attended church, had a nap, and enjoyed a yummy roast dinner (I ate too much, again). Before my flight on Monday we attended a birthday brunch, ran some errands, dropped off the oldest at piano, played at the park while we waited for her, and swung by Aspen Leaf for frozen yogurt treats (lemon ginger sorbet topped with coconut and pomegranate berry sherbet with blue and rasp berries).

I was bummed to leave.

But got to drown my sorrows in some Bluebell Ice Cream when my last plane got delayed by a good 45 minutes (making the flight back wickedly annoying… I was SOOO tired getting into Seattle at 2am Texas time).

Oh! Other fun thing… while waiting in Houston for my next flight, I ran into my friend and her husband on their way back home from Mexico! Small world!

P.S. I forgot to tell the “That’s a yes” story. I guess it’s a common saying in England because the dad (from London) I sat next to on the plane kept saying “That’s a yes” when he agreed with what I was saying. Kind of like when we say Uh-huh, yeah or amen, and sometimes twice in a row, “That’s a yes, that’s a yes.” He was really nice. I think I’ll try to get the phrase to catch on in The States.

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Cashiers Should Be Nice To Kids: or momma bear will blog about it

by Lucky Red Hen on April 8, 2011

After much online research, my 11yo settled on buying the Nerf N-Strike Recon CS-6 (they used to be called “Nerf guns” back in the day) at Target today.

We had several errands to run, so I suggested he put his quarter-filled film canisters in his camera case and wear it around his neck so it wouldn’t get misplaced.

After 10 minutes of trying on jeans at Value Village (these kids go through pants so fast), we were ready to go and that’s when he realized his jacket and money were GONE O_O

My heart sunk as I recalled the time I was a girl shopping with my mother and set down my purse. It felt like it had only been a second that I turned around but I’m sure it was longer. Time estimation does not seem possible when you’re a kid. Either something takes FOREVER or it happened in a SECOND. The purse turned up at customer service later, without my coveted wallet (white and tan leather with a horseshoe on the front) and 24 hard-earned dollars. I think I was more devastated about the wallet being gone than the money.

After asking a couple store clerks, we found out one of them saw them slung over a rack and put them in the Lost & Found. All was recovered, phew!

Even with extensive editing, this post is getting longer and longer… do you want to hear about my good deed? It’ll make up for the story coming at the end. A little yin for my yang ;)

Good deed: While waiting FORever (time estimation for me might be skewed too) for a VV cashier to count out a customers 40 paperback Star Trek books, having to start over a couple times and they weren’t all the same price, other cashier’s opened up and offered to ring up the next person. I wasn’t in a hurry and had already been waiting so long that I decided to stay put and wait my turn. Buuut, when the cashier finished ringing them up and waiting for the lady to write her check, THAT’S when she decided to tell me, “I’m sorry, I’m closed after this customer so you’ll have to go to another check stand.”

O_o

No. There wasn’t a sign or light indicating that her lane is closing/closed. Ugh. All that time being patient for nothing. When I turned to leave, my eyes met some puppy dog eyes (not really a dog and her eyes weren’t really doing the puppy dog look, but she did look a little nervous).

Long story short… this gal had $70 of dishes to return (the set was missing all the bowls) but VV doesn’t give refunds, only exchanges, and wondered if she could buy my stuff with her return credit and I’ll give her the cash (I NEVER have cash, especially that much, but this time I did and it was just enough.) I only had $10 worth of stuff to buy with cash, the rest was supposed to come out of our checking account (we’re on a stiff budget). I said, “I could use some good karma, so I’ll do it!” She couldn’t stop thanking me… profusely.

The second cashier rang me up but then realized she couldn’t do a return/exchange transaction so we had to reverse the transaction and go to a third cashier to actually get the job done. He was FANTASTIC, had a GREAT ATTITUDE, and bent over backwards (figuratively) to make us happy. Dangit why didn’t I get his name? Guh.

THEN.

THEN we drove 25 minutes to Target for the Nerf gun Nerf N-Strike Recon CS-6 and some perusing. After all the perusing, we just had the gun to buy and approached the next-to-be-served checkout lane. The cashier was finishing up the previous customer with a pleasant attitude. She rang up the gun and gave the total due. My sweet, well-behaved, 11yo then handed her the first bundle of quarters (he had about $19 in quarters then some dimes, nickels and a few pennies for the rest… but MOSTLY ALL quarters.)

Claudia: (looking at her handful of quarters then back at 11yo and in a snarky tone) We don’t take over $5 in coins.

11yo: (blink.blink)

Me: What do you MEAN you don’t take over $5 in coins? Since when?

Claudia: My supervisor won’t let me take over $5 in coins.

Me: Then let’s get the supervisor. (who happens to be just several feet away)

Claudia (to the supe): They want to pay with over $5 in coins.

Supe: Then take it. (turning away with a slight quizzical look)

Claudia: But I’m not supposed to. Two people have told me that.

Supe: I’ve never heard that. Take the money.

Me (directed to the supe): Coins ARE money, aren’t they?

Supe (to me then to Claudia): Yes they are. Take the money.

She starts counting out the quarters. At one point she tries to back peddle saying that she, too, pays her daughter for chores in coins. But then she says…

Claudia: Well, I’d normally take the coins but there’s a backup. (motioning to the nice mom behind us)

It was 2:30pm on a Wednesday, nowhere near a holiday, with at least four other cashiers on duty with only ONE customer each… there was NO backup. And it isn’t hard to count quarters… four equal a dollar.

Me: Wait a minute. You said before that you aren’t allowed, but now you’re saying you would if there wasn’t a backup?!?

Claudia: Yes, that’s right.

O_O

I’ve been talking to my kidlets lately about how we say things. Say the word “sorry” in a sarcastic whine with your squinted eyes and sneer -or- in a humbled voice with upturned eyebrows and down turned lips; same word, different meanings.

Like in Three Men and a Baby when Tom Selleck reads to the baby from Sports Illustrated. It’s his tone of voice that soothes the baby, not the explanation of how the basketball star completed his layup and scored his umpteenth basket.

We had several cashiers that day: one at Les Schwab (I returned our chains; the clerk was slammed with incoming calls, an impatient older customer waiting after me, and she maintained her pleasant disposition the entire time, as did I), three at the first Value Village, one crummy one at Target, and one at the other Value Village (we were searching for a small lamp for the hall bathroom).

I KNOW how to behave with cashiers, I HAVE BEEN a cashier, I have a couple of Employee of the Month awards from past employment in customer service, so I am pretty sure I have a good idea of how customer service works.

“Yes, we have no bananas!”

There is no excuse for a cashier to treat someone unkind, ESPECIALLY a KID. And obviously by my momma bear rant, MY kid. If she was having a bad day (which I don’t think she was), she didn’t need to take it out on the customer, my son.

Lesson Learned: don’t punch rude people in the neck. Blog about it instead.

P.S. Told the cashier at the other Target today about the incident and she was appalled. She said that she’s been paid in pennies before, that it doesn’t happen very often, and that their store has nicer employees than the other one ;)

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Living Green: today vs. yesteryear

by Lucky Red Hen on March 24, 2011

The following photos show you how I grease my muffin tins. Did you WANT to know how I grease my stuff? Maybe you didn’t KNOW you wanted to know. And perhaps you’re NOT as big a F.R.I.E.N.D.S. fan as as I am (here’s a little clip of Chandler speak).

A little piece of plastic wrap, wrapped around my middle fingers
(not just THE middle finger, ALL the middle fingers).

The backside is where I gather the excess plastic
then hold it down with my thumb.

See how my fingers stay all clean and shiny?
Well, maybe not SHINY, but if I were a robot I could say that literally.

I am NOT a robot (in case you were wondering about THAT too). Maybe I could play one on TV (probably not).

Either way, robot or not, I am thinking I DON’T need to use the plastic wrap to grease my stuff anymore.]

Stay with me here… What would happen if I JUST used my fingers, au naturale? Here’s what would happen… I would save the landfill a strip of non-biodegradable plastic wrap (not that I cook often enough to really make a difference, but still) AND moisturize at the same time O_o

And my hands have been CRAZY dry and brittle lately (sigh). So now I vow to just use my (clean) fingers to grease my muffin tins, baking dishes, and whatever else needs lubed so food doesn’t stick.

Check out this short article I just read on being ‘green’…
IT’S ALL ABOUT THE GREEN THING
by Jim Knowles

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Our Wall Art: metal prints, gallery wrapped canvas, oil paintings, and a quilt?

by Lucky Red Hen on March 22, 2011

Pretend like you’re coming over to my house, we’ve enjoyed visiting, and you’re about to (recluctantly) leave. This is what you’ll see on your way out!

A message saying, “Please Come Again!” and four of my favorite images printed on metal and hung together. They’re gorgeous in person, having a metal sheen that makes them POP! Plus they have dimension standing out from the wall, not pressed up against it.

Here’s looking into our teensie tinesie (how do you like my phoenetic spelling?) hall bathroom. Custom gallery wrapped canvas wall art (say THAT five times fast!) that’s perfectly safe in humid spaces.

These photos were taken a couple years ago at a nearby park. I was trying out lenses to see which one I might like to get next (the Canon 50mm 1.2f L lens, thankyouverymuch, birthday is coming up). The kidlets weren’t dressed for a photo shoot or coordinated for permanent wall art, but I used them as test subjects.

The piece on the left is four images of them making different poses every time I pressed the shutter button. The piece on the right is of them holding hands (not sure they’d be as willing to do that anymore, so I’m glad I captured their sweetness when they would let me). It’s actually not a technically sound image. My highlights are blown out, my shadows are too dark, and I’m not sure that anything is in focus.

BUT I LOVE THE IMAGE. I LOVE THE MOMENT. I LOVE WHAT I GOT EVEN THOUGH IT WON’T PASS A CRITIQUE, BUT…

“How does it make you FEEL?”
– Joe Buissink

Images of my kids make me feel extremely happy. That is why they hang on my wall. Not because they’re award winning.

The metals, on the other hand, are ROCKIN’ technically sound images :) Here’s a closer look (including the reflection of the dining room chandelier on Lisa and Eli’s faces, woops) of them before hanging.

…and a little snipet of my slipper :D

Here’s another way to get dimension with our unframed canvas painting. It’s stapled to the wall (where the creases/folds are) and stuck on the right side with painters tape. It reminds me a bit of my grandma, Lucille, who’s been gone for a long time.

The art on the left is by Adde duLaux Russell. It’s three separate canvases, making packing/moving a breeze. We met her in Seattle after seeing her one-winged angel silhouette painting (that’s not hanging in our house, unfortunately, it’s on a wall in a Sun Valley home instead). We’ve had it about nine years now, and every year we swap Christmas cards… how sweet is THAT?!?

The photograph on the right is of aspen trees in American Fork Canyon, UT, by Russell Gunther. His brother and I traded it for a quilt. I had already committed to making a baby blanket for their 5th baby, so he said (after trying to gift it to me and I wouldn’t take it for free), “I’ll trade you this for a quilt,” thinking that meant the baby blanket. But I talked to his wife about making a simple adult-sized one for him for fun, in addition to the baby blanket, and she agreed that it’d be funny.

Well, after trying to find the perfect fabric (I was seriously just going to get two pieces of fabric and sew them together, super easy) and coming up empty, I switched gears on accident and decided to try a design I’ve NEVER even come CLOSE to doing (nor had I ever made anything bigger than a baby blanket). This is what my 2 piece blanket turned into…

…well over 400 pieces in a Bullseye Design, cut in four’s and reconstructed. P.S. That’s not him, that’s his son holding it for me the last time I was in town so I could get picture proof that 1) yes, I did make it, and 2) yes, they actually use it.

We have more art hanging in our home, so maybe I’ll have to post another tour to show you the rest. By the way, all these photos were taken with my cell phone. You’d think I’d use my real camera, but no.

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Tubal Ligation = Good For Me/Us

by Lucky Red Hen on March 19, 2011

Tubal ligation (TL), sterilization, tubes tied, permanent birth control, fixed, spayed. Whatever you want to call it, it’s 99% effective in preventing pregnancy the first year. Subsequent years reduces the effectiveness slightly because there is a rare chance, depending on the procedure, the fallopian tube(s) can reform and/or reconnect, allowing the possibility of fertilization.

I know someone who got pregnant after her husband got a vasectomy… TWICE

…two vasectomies, two pregnancies (she had a TL done after the second surprise baby).

TL is also intended to be permanent, but surgical reversal of the procedure is possible (I also know someone who’s done this and was able to have another baby; not the same lady as mentioned above). The fallopian tubes can be cauterized, clipped (like a Chip Clip), blocked by tubal rings, or cut and sutured out of the way. My version was to cauterize closest to the uterus and toss as much of the tubes in the garbage so there is NO CHANCE of them growing back together. [shiver]

I had my TL 20 minutes after the birth of my second child. I already had an epidural for the birth, making anesthesia easy, and they went in through my belly button, just in case I didn’t want visible scars to ruin my chances of becoming a swimsuit model or table dancer (bahahaha). Recovery was a breeze (didn’t notice since all my guts were healing from the birth). The cost was much less because I was already at the hospital with an epidural so I was just, basically, paying for the doctor to do the surgery.

The anesthesiologist (dude, I just spelled that right the first time without spell check!) asked if I wanted to stay awake for the procedure or go under. Um, I just had a baby and don’t know when I’ll get deep sleep again so I chose go under :)

“Why didn’t you have your husband get a vasectomy instead? It’s much less invasive (30 minute out-patient), cheaper ($500 vs. 2k+), and quicker recovery.”

Because I am the one that doesn’t want to ever be pregnant again. More kids could be possible, but not out of my body. We would be parents to our nieces and nephew (if their parents die at the same time), we could adopt, or steal (depends how cute they are, j/k). If (knock on wood) I expire before my hubby, he could have more kidlets with his new wife if she wanted to. But if it were the other way around, sorry new hubby, baby factory CLOSED.

The benefits of having a TL done:

  • no pregnancies (or bladder control issues due to them)
  • no condoms (only 97% effective, as Ross/Joey found out)
  • no birth control pills (remembering/forgetting to take them)
  • no Depo Provera shots
  • no diaphragm
  • no cervical cap
  • no patches
  • no implants
  • no sponges
  • no prep (where’d we put the contraceptive?)
  • no worry (am I or am I not?)
  • no rhythm method (math is hard)
  • oh, and no abstinence (plus you can do it anywhere, anytime)

Some numbers…

Apparently there are many women (up to 26%) who wish they hadn’t gotten a TL. At Chapel Hill Tubal Reversal Center, they receive requests for information about TL reversal 7 days a week, 365 days a year, from women who regret having a TL. The U.S. Collaborative Review of Sterilization found that 20% of women who were sterilized before the age of 30 regretted their decision. Regret has been shown to correlate with external pressure by the doctor, spouse, relatives, or others :( Fewer than 20 percent seek reversal and fewer than 10 percent go through with it.

My REASONS for not wanting more babies:

  • I’m too old for this (doesn’t mean you’re too old for it).
  • When my kidlets move out, I want to do other things.
  • Kids are HARD. Maybe not for you, but for me they are.
  • My patience level is about (pinches fingers) this big.
  • Sleepless nights, feeding, diapers, potty training, crying…
  • My back doesn’t do well with little ones; I’m kinda broken.
  • Guilt with all aspects of properly/improperly parenting.
  • Selflessness… I barely have enough for my existing children.
  • My paranoia over EVERY STEP they take causes great anxiety.
  • I’d be in the high risk pregnancy age group next time around.

Kristi (@TweetingMama) says she regrets her decision to undergo a TL following the birth of her daughter two years ago. Read about her experience at Our Mommyhood. You could’ve read my clever reply in the comments section of that post, if the power hadn’t gone out mid-typing (grumble).

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