Upgrade

It seems I've been upgrading a lot lately. This is a good thing.

When we were preparing to move to L. A. we knew I would be earning quite a bit more, but we also knew rent would be outrageous for something decent. What we didn't realize was how much taxes and insurance would take out of my paycheck. I wasn't taking home as much as we had anticipated. Ryan had found a job working for pennies (seriously) at a bike shop in Manhattan Beach with an occasional side job selling window coverings. Our place was cute. It was a charming 1940's two bedroom apartment with hardwood floors, crown molding, lots of windows, loads of storage, and a big, beautiful tile kitchen located in West L.A./West Hollywood.



It even had an avocado tree in the back with an area for grow boxes. We lived 2 blocks away from Little Ethiopia (some of my favorite food), the Le Brea Tar Pits, and Museum Row where you can get in free after 5. But, to be honest, it was miserable. Money was so tight we couldn't do anything fun. Ryan was so busy driving back and forth between work and band practice that he never had time to actually work creatively on music. Plus, I had to deal with the occasional cockroach (I have a phobia), not to mention we lived a stone's throw away from a hospital where sirens blared at all hours of the day and night. What do you do you when you have 8 months left on your lease? I felt trapped. Land locked. I was withering away sounds dramatic, but I honestly felt that way. Too much noise. Too much cement. Too much smog.

When I was younger I had two visions of myself when I was older. I could never decide which was one was the "real me". One vision was of me living in a major metropolitan city like New York, Chicago, or even L.A., living in a high rise apartment with ultra modern and sleek furniture and abstract paintings on the walls. I would wear fashionable but severe designer clothing and work for a top design firm.


The other vision was of me living out in the country in an old farm house on a few acres of my own. I would have a couple of horses, a milk cow, chickens, goats, sheep, geese, and beehives. I would grow my own organic food, churn my own butter, make cheese, and bottle the abundance of summer for the winter months. I would sew and quilt and paint. I would be outside. I would breathe fresh air. I would be amazed by beauty every day. I would love to do what this woman does. Take some time and check out the site. It's pretty extensive. I really want to stay at her Bed & Breakfast.


Living in that charming 1940's apartment just outside the beating heart of the city has taught me that I am the farm girl more than the city girl.

Time for an upgrade.

I didn't exactly upgrade to an old farm house in the country, but it was a step in the right direction...even if it was an itsy, bitsy, baby step. Bekah put me in touch with an apartment manager, Beth, in her ward. The company Beth worked for needed another apartment manager at one of their properties in Valley Village. Ryan and I interviewed and Ryan got the job. He quit his job at the bike shop and we packed our things, broke our lease and moved a few days later. Although the apartment complex isn't as "cool" as our place in West L.A., it is cozier. It feels more like a home. It has carpet. I never thought I would want carpet, but I actually like it. I can do sit-ups (not that I ever do), without breaking my back. I can walk barefoot with out my feet turning black. Although there isn't a space to have a grow box, I have a balcony that I put my herb pots on. There are more trees and single family homes around and I don't hear sirens all night. The streets are wider and more open. It feels more like downtown Salt Lake/9th and 9th area than L.A. We even have a pool to swim in.

Upgrade.

Within a week of moving into our new place I felt less stressed, happier and more peaceful. We can actually ride our bikes without fearing for our lives, and we are within riding distance of Griffith Park or Balboa Park for a longer rides.

Upgrade.

Since Ryan is managing the 30 or so apartments we get rent and utilities free in addition to a $250 stipend. This essentially is the equivalent of Ryan making more than triple the amount he did at the bike shop. We can actually have a little fun now... like going to Six Flags Magic Mountain for our 1st anniversary...and start paying off my school loans.

Another upgrade.

(There should be a video here but it wouldn't load...help?)

By the way, I recommend taking ibuprofen with you to Six Flags. Ryan's phone fell out of his pocket on one of the rides and it was most likely smashed to smithereens. As a result we bought him the fancy new google phone...MyTouch.

Upgrade.

Because he works from home, Ryan has more time to work creatively on music and is only a few blocks from band practice. Before he left the bike shop we bought Ryan a road bike on a pro-deal. It's a pretty sweet ride. Now he has time to road bike with me.


I consider that an upgrade.

I might start to like it here. Ryan's making out pretty well with this change too.

Blaahg

Oh man. I don't know how well this blog thing is going for me. I feel like I have a hard time writing authentically because I know I have an audience. It was the same way with keeping a journal. I always thought about my kids/grandkids reading it so, things became a little forced. I feel pressure to be witty, clever, etc. I can do this in person, but I have a hard time translating it into writing I analyze too much, but if you know me...you already know this. 'nuff said.


About a month ago my sister and her family came to visit and we went to Disneyland, and I might have had more fun than the kids did. It was much more crowded than we expected, but we were able to capitalize on having 3 adults and fast-passes and packed the day full of rides and met loads of characters. I was never a "Disney" kid growing up...in fact I thought I was "too cool for Disney." But a strange thing happened and I found myself mesmerized when I stood face to face with the Mad Hatter, Alice, Queen of Hearts, and the Evil Queen from Snow White. Since it was October, Disneyland was showcasing their villains. I loved it. I think everyone has a sort of fondness for dark things. Why else would we love dressing up as witches and skeletons and tell ghost stories?


But my favorite part of Disneyland? Bonding with this kid....


I don't get to see him much and I doubt he even remembered who I was, but we became fast friends. I love my niece and nephews and I pretty much arrange my holidays around them.

Forever Young

My sister Erin emailed me two poems that my niece Sophie wrote the other day. She just barely turned 9. I don't think I even knew what a poem was when I was 9 and I think my first attempt at one in 4th grade English had something to do with a paper cutter being like a tiger. In fact, I think it was a haiku. Paltry compared to her verse.

But Sophie isn't like other little girls. She doesn't like loads of girly stuff or what ever the Disney Channel is slinging. At 4.5yrs she loved dinosaurs. I took her to the Thanksgiving Point Dinosaur museum where she shocked me by looking at the skeletons of these huge lizards and listing off their names: Dimetrodon, Iguanodon, and Archeopteryx. Did I mention she was only 4.5? I looked for the name plates to make sure she was right and thought she might be able to visually associate the name (she couldn't possibly be able to read dinosaur names at under 5yrs could she?) with the dinosaur. The name plates were on the far end of the exhibit...too far for anyone to read. This tyke knew her stuff. She got all of them right. I was even more impressed because these weren't your run of the mill dinosaurs like the Triceratops, T-Rex or even the Stegosaurus.

At this time she also loved ghost stories and preferred to have them as her bed-time stories. Of course they were never too scary, but spooky enough for a 4.5 year old. I was surprised by her requests.

A few months later my sister told me a story about how they had been driving to their local Rec Center when Sophie (now 5) recited a poem that she had written.

I died for what I had not known
I didn't see the girl coming to squash me
I am dead
I am dead
I am dead

At first Erin didn't believe her and asked her if she learned it in school (Halloween was coming up) or heard it somewhere else. But Sophie explained that the poem was about a fly that she had squashed in the car. She also explained that when you said "I am dead" it got quieter each time. Huh? What? Since when do 5 year-olds use that type of syntax? I don't even know what to call that type of sentence structure. So you see, Sophies' creativity started early.

The following summer Sophie composed a song. Again, Erin didn't quite believe that Sophie created it on her own, but she did. I don't remember all of the lyrics but it is sung with harmony and has depth. My sister took her to a Cowboy Poetry reading where she mustered up the courage to stand in front of seasoned poets and weathered cowboys to shyly sing her song.

Going back to her most recent poems. I called Erin almost immediately after I read them and asked for the story. Once again, Erin was a little skeptical on if Sophie had really written them. Poor girl, can't catch a break. When Erin asked about the "copper witches", Sophie told her casually that she just thought it sounded good, not recognizing the symbolism (pennies) that they have and how they make her fall to her knees. As far as a "lopper"? Well, she just made that word up because she liked it. When asked what it means, she replied, "it's kind of like a loser." Erin asked if they should change it to say "loser," but Sophie thinks "lopper" sounds better. So do I.

This girl is brilliant.

I didn't post her poems...yet...because I want her to get them published and I don't know if blogging them would interfere with her chances. Any suggestions?

Lake verNON

Ryan and I went backpacking in Yosemite last weekend. We were planning on a 5-6 day trip, but a friend and a huge Kid Theodore supporter, Kathy Carpenter, passed away unexpectedly and her funeral was on Monday. Our trip was shortened to 3 days. The first day we (Ryan) spent driving (I slept a majority of the time, having finished a string of shifts at the hospital). We stopped at a kitschy but admittedly cool road-side farm/market/fruit stand and had BBQ'd tri-tip sandwiches, fed the chickens, and pet the rabbits and goats. They had wine and cheese tasting (we only tasted the cheese), artisan foods and loads of stuff for hipsters to Quilted Bear homemakers to rednecks alike.

Hetch Hetchy Reservoir

Unfortunately, we ended up having to back track an hour or two after missing our turn-off. We arrived late at Hetch Hetchy and slept under the stars at the backpackers campground at the trail head instead of hiking to Laurel Lake. We got an early start, bypassing Laurel Lake and headed straight to Lake Vernon. I speak for both of us when I say we soon found out we are out of shape (although round is a shape). The hike was a mere 10-ish miles in, which should have been a piece of cake considering my past hiking adventures. Granted the first half of the trail is a series of steep switchbacks, it felt like a struggle most of the way. It was also unseasonably hot. I deserve to have another excuse right? We didn't reach camp until 4pm (we hiked an extra 2 miles to see the winter trail shelter).




Face flies galore. Can you see them all? That's only half of them.



We passed on setting up the tent and slept under the stars again. I would ditch tents altogether, but storms and rumors of storms keeps me from doing it. I would take my bivy, but that would leave Ryan to fend for himself if it rained. It would be nice to get another one so we could minimize pack weight and have back-up in case the weather is foul. I miss my day's at REI when I could actually afford all of the new fandangled gear through pro-deals.


Since we lost a day driving and we had a funeral to attend, we packed up and hiked back out the very next morning. We made good time (downhill) and covered the distance in 4 hours.

We took the scenic route home and drove through Yosemite Valley and visited Bridalveil Falls, Fern Spring, and Glacier Point. We'll definitely be back for more. Hopefully in better shape and have more time.

Sore and blistered, Ryan couldn't jump very high

We drank straight from this spring... I hope we don't die.

Annecy Reina Merkley

I love this little girl. I wish she didn't live so far away so I could smother her with kisses and have her fall asleep on my chest. Ryan and I might have to make a trip up to Vancouver just to see her again. Dan and Marshawn make beautiful babies don't they? I say 'Encore!'



Dan gave her the most comprehensive and beautiful baby blessing I've ever heard. I doubt she'll ever need another one.


Congratulations Danny and Marshawn!

Bread Recipes

Below is the recipe for the crusty artisan loaf per Jessica's request. The original recipe was published in the New York Times. Watch the video on You Tube to get an idea of how the dough should look.

No-Knead Bread
1/4 tsp active dry yeast
1 1/2 cups warm water (I used 1 1/4...my first batch came out too soupy with 1 1/2)
3 cups all-purpose flour (I used bread flour), plus more for dusting. You may use white, whole wheat or a combination of the two.
1 1/2 tsp salt
Cornmeal or wheat bran for dusting (I just used extra flour)

1. Combine yeast, flour and salt, stirring until blended. Add water. The dough will be shaggy and sticky. Cover bowl with plastic wrap. Let the dough rest at least 8 hours, preferably 12 to 18, at warm room temperature, about 70 degrees.
2. The dough is ready when its surface is dotted with bubbles. Lightly flour a work surface and place dough on it. Sprinkle it with a little more flour and fold it over on itself once or twice. Cover loosely with plastic wrap and let it rest for about 15 minutes.
3. Using just enough flour to keep the dough from sticking to the work surface or to your fingers, gently shape it into a ball. Generously coat a clean dish towel with flour, wheat bran or cornmeal. Put the seam side of the dough down on the towel and dust with more flour, bran or cornmeal (I skipped the towel part and left my dough on my cutting board...my first loaf stuck to the fibers too much). Cover with another towel and let rise for about 1 to 2 hours. When it’s ready, the dough will have doubled in size and will not readily spring back when poked with a finger.
4. At least 20 minutes before the dough is ready, heat oven to 475 degrees. Put a 6- to 8-quart heavy covered pot (cast iron, enamel, Pyrex or ceramic) in the oven as it heats. When the dough is ready, carefully remove the pot from the oven and lift off the lid. Slide your hand under the towel and turn the dough over into the pot, seam side up. The dough will lose its shape a bit in the process, but that’s OK. Give the pan a firm shake or two to help distribute the dough evenly, but don’t worry if it’s not perfect; it will straighten out as it bakes. (This whole process is to trap in the steam to make a chewy crusty bread. I can't afford the $100+ for a decent dutch oven so I bucked up $30 and got a pizza stone instead. To create the steam I put my broiler pan on the bottom rack and added a cup of water and quickly shut the oven door to trap the steam. I found this trick here.)
   
5. Cover and bake for 30 minutes. Remove the lid and bake another 15 to 20 minutes, until the loaf is beautifully browned (or 30 minutes total with a pizza stone). Remove the bread from the Dutch oven and let it cool on a rack for at least 1 hour before slicing.

Buttermilk Bread (Good Housekeeping Cook Book)
1/4 cup warm water
1 pkg active dry yeast
1 tsp plus 1/4 cup sugar
1 1/2 cups buttermilk (I reconstituted powdered buttermilk)
8 T butter or margarine
2 tsp salt

1. In large bowl, combine warm water, yeast, and 1 teaspoon sugar; stir to dissolve. Let mixture stand until foamy, about 5 minutes.
   
2. Meanwhile, in 1-quart saucepan, combine buttermilk, 6 tablespoons butter, and remaining 1/4 cup sugar; heat over medium-low heat until warm. Add buttermilk mixture, salt and 4 1/2 cups flour to yeast mixture; beat with wooden spoon until blended.
3. Turn dough onto lightly floured surface and knead until smooth and elastic, about 10 minutes, working in enough of remaining 1/4 cup flour just to keep dough from sticking. Shape dough into ball; place in greased large bowl, turning dough to grease top. Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let rise in warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
4. Punch down dough. Turn doug onto lightly floured surface and cut in half; cover and let reast 15 minutes. Grease two 8 1/2" x 4 1/2" metal loaf pans.
5. Shape each dough half into rectangle about 9" x 6". Roll up from short side. Pinch seam nd ends to seal. Place, seam side down, in prepared pans. cover and let rise in warm place until doubled in volume, about 1 hour.
6. Meanwhile, preheat oven to 375. Melt remaining 2 tablespoons butter. Just before baking, with serrated knife, cut a lengthwise 1/4-inch-deep slash in top of each loaf. Brush loaves with melted butter (I didn't worry about the shape and or slashing, nor did I butter it before baking and they still came out beautiful). Bake until golden and loaves sound hollow when lightly tapped on bottom, 25-30 minutes. Remove loaves from pans; cool on wire racks. Makes 2 loaves, 12 slices each.

Bread

Even though our week in Salt Lake seemed booked, I still had enough time to pick and bottle apricots and plums, and made jams, juice, and pie filling! I didn't particularly like helping my mom bottle fruit and make pie fillings and jams. Actually, I vividly remember spending most of a Saturday peeling apples and wishing I could go play. I dreamt of peeling apples that night. After I moved out I tried the store bought variety and they were never as good. I missed the rows and rows of colorful bottles of fruit in our basement growing up. I love the idea that I can save a little bit of summer in a bottle and eat it later when the landscape has lost all color. Nothing is better than homemade jam. Seriously. You name a flavor and it's better homemade. I love watching the bubbling pots of color knowing I'll be enjoying the flavors all winter long.

Now I needed some chewy crusty bread to eat with my homemade jam. But good bread is expensive, especially when your husband eats half a loaf in one sitting...okay I do too. For the last week I've scoured the world wide web and found a great recipe for artisan crusty bread that really works! It's super easy too. I failed on my first attempt because I sifted my flour so the dough was much too wet. But my 2nd and 3rd attempts turned out lovely. I can't wait to try adding some flavor to the basic recipe...sourdough, rosemary, kalmata olive...YUM!




*Sigh*

Summer.