Pua Bean Has a Job

My little Pua Bean is on the career path. I don't know exactly what it is, but she knows because she's always practicing, always               .

Her first job was pretty entry level. She would take items out of open bags out of the back of her stroller. Clearing out laundry baskets was her favorite part of her job. Coming in a close second is taking every single wipe out its container then finding just the right one to go rub the windowsill. 

Then she got promoted when she learned how to open the kitchen cabinets. Her new job was to clear out all the pots and pans whenever she noticed the doors were shut and the pots and pans were inside.

Building onto her responsibilities at her job she moved to purses. It was her job to make sure all pens had their caps removed and all credit cards, business cards and paper money were strewn across the floor (I think she got a bonus for every time a credit card was found in another room or under the couch.)

To hone her craft she started moonlighting and attending training seminars where she would investigate the strollers and purses of people at the playground.

During all her training she mastered another skill, zippers! Thus adding of skill to her resume. Much to her happiness and career aspirations she's discovered that backpacks are no longer off her list of items she can empty out and ruin.

Her goals for the next 6 months are simple, and if she works hard I think she can achieve them. She plans to work on opening drawers. Her method of screaming while tugging on the handles is producing a little bit of success but she still needs to work on her technique. After that she will work on opening the refrigerator to extract her favorite snack, cheese. 

She's hoping to make management by her 2nd birthday.

'Nilla Wafers and Chex Mix High

We went shopping at Grocery Outlet over the weekend. I'd never been to a a Grocery Outlet before.

There were a lot off-brands but the store wasn't filled with unmarked dented cans with no labels, like I imagined. Prices were pretty good. Quality was pretty good, mostly. Selection was pretty good, mostly.

Selection was great for those who eat a conventional diet. Selection was not the best for those of us who enjoy a more Paleo / Primal way of eating.

We were able to load up on the staples we needed like milk, cheese, bananas, apples, but it was definitely not a one-stop shop. It was however cheap enough and convenient enough to go make it a regular stop in filling our fridge.

When we were at the check-out line I heard on the overhead something about check stand 3 (the one where we were) had won some prize of the day. We won? Yay! What did we win?

A moment later someone came over and handed us a bag filled with all kinds of treats and goodies that we no longer eat; Graham Cracker Sandwiches, Nilla Wafers, Chex Mix, Red Vines. When Hubby and I saw the 'nilla wafers we instantly thought the same thing; POT OF COFFEE AND BOX OF 'NILLA WAFERS.

The next morning we totally cheated and had said 'nilla wafers and pot of coffee. What I noticed, however, is that I could only eat a big handful of the cookies. A year ago I would have hidden in the closet with the box and eaten it all. It was just too sweet for me this time around.

Yay evolution of taste buds and learning new eating habits.

Then for lunch I opened the bag of chex mix and found that I only wanted to eat my favorite bits from the bag, that the whole bag did nothing for me anymore. Happy and sad at the same time.

Overall I'm happy I don't want the foods I used to eat on a regular basis, and used to make meals out of. Overall I'm happy that I've taught my kids that vegetables aren't gross and I don't have to disguise them to get them to eat them. I'm happy that they crave food that's good for them. Don't get me wrong. They were just as stoked to pounce on the Graham Cracker sandwiches, 'nilla wafers and chex mix, but they don't miss it when it's not around, and that's progress.

Ryuk vs. Tipper Gore

I'm not one of those moms who wants to censor everything. I'm not interested in what the Parents Television Council has to say. I don't have a need for Common Sense Media. I'm not even sure if the PMRC still exists. However, that doesn't mean that I think that my kids should watch or listen to everything. Not everything is appropriate for everyone. I don't think it has to be, either. For example, I don't think my 5 year old should watch A Nightmare on Elm Street, but I don't have a problem if my 14 year old watches it. As a parent it is my job to determine what is and isn't appropriate for them.

Now, my nerdiness is pretty contained. I like Star Trek (mostly TNG and DS9). I like Buffy. I like Twilight Zone. I get most of the sci-fi jokes on Big Bang Theory but a lot of the actual science jokes are lost on me. There are a few other sci-fi and fantasy series that I enjoy, but again, it's pretty contained.  I don't branch out much. I never really got into anime.

The Girl recently started watching a lot of anime. Not really knowing a lot about it, other than its existence, I decided to watch one of the series she talks about. I started watching Death Note. At first I watched it just to see what The Girl was into and see if it was appropriate for her age-group. I watched the first episode and I was hooked. I am up to episode 10. The verdict? Is it appropriate? Meh. There are other ways I would rather she spend her time, but if she's going to watch TV (even though she watches it on the computer and not TV, but what's the difference?) it's more interesting than Victorious and it's something we can watch together and talk about.

I'm sure she'll find an interest one day that I'm not too cool with. For now I will keep my eyes and mind open and hope that she'll trust me enough to share with me her likes and dislikes.

The "Newser" - a dream

A few months ago The Boy told me "Mom, I saw a newser today." He told me he saw a newscaster from the Breakfast News we watch in the morning. When I was a kid I didn't pay much attention to the news. My two oldest watch the news all the time. It's on in the morning when they are getting ready for school. We also usually watch the 6pm news. They know all the newscasters and when the regular ones aren't on, they notice. When they get haircuts, they notice. When they haven't been on in a while, they notice. I didn't start paying attention to the news until I moved to San Francisco. I didn't even know Breakfast News existed until about 5 years after moving to San Francisco and my boyfriend (now hubby) watched it. Anyhow, I had a dream about one of the "newsers" we see on TV on most days.

I had a dream about local news anchor Frank Somerville.

I was in Long Beach walking down the busy street that intersected with the street I grew up on. I still lived in the house I grew up in, but I'm not sure if anyone else lived there. Frank Somerville passed me on the sidewalk and I struck up a conversation with him. I asked him if I could get my picture taken with him. He said yes. I told him that he'd have to walk back to my house with me so I can get my camera. He followed me. On the way to my house he said that he knew someone who lived on the same street as my house but they lived there a long time ago. I told him that I was pretty old and that I moved into my house when I was 2 months old. We probably lived in our houses at the same time. He asked me if I remembered them. I told him "oh no, we never talked to anyone on that part of the street."

We entered the house. He sat on the couch and struck up a conversation with my parents plus some other people. About a half hour later he left. 

I never got my picture with him.

Naked and Hungry - 2 dreams

Dream #1
I was wearing nothing but a towel that didn't quite fit all the way around me. I hopped in the elevator at my work and planned to get off on the floor I don't work on because there was a closet there with lot's of clothes. The elevator didn't stop on the floor I wanted. Then the elevator turned into a subway. There was a woman standing next to me who works in my office. She had a bag filled with clothes that had the logo of the brand she takes care of at work. She was looking for my size, found it, then as I was putting the shirt on her stop came up and she got off the train. She had forgotten her bags of clothes and her cell phone. She called me on her cell and I answered it. I told her I would bring everything she left behind to work with me on Monday and leave it at her desk. 

Dream #2
Then I found myself at the airport. I saw Andrew Zimmern. I went up to him and asked him where the best places to eat were at O'Hare airport. We walked around the airport and he showed me his favorite places.

A Snuggle with Jack White - a dream

My friend E and I were hanging out in front of my house talking about what we could make with pumpkin pie filling. We didn't want to make a pie. Pie is so pedestrian. We decided we were going to make pumpkin pasties. Pasties are here and now, baby. 

We went back to her house in SF. She and her family had just moved back here. When we got to her house, E's hubby and kid were sitting on the front porch waiting for us. There was a party going on inside. We went inside and while we were gathering the ingredients, a poetry reading started. E's hubby was mad because he didn't want to start the poetry reading until 7:30 but it started early. 

After gathering my ingredients I had to go pee. Someone was standing outside the bathroom and told me I couldn't go in because Jack White was inside crying. I had to pee so I opened the door, told him I had to pee and could he please leave for a moment. He nodded, but instead of leaving, he went inside the shower and shut the shower door. He wasn't going to leave the bathroom, but he would let me pee in peace. While I was peeing he came out of the shower, crying and told me that the poetry reading had stirred up some memories and feelings that made him sad.  We spoon-snuggled until he felt better. 

The End.

Any Relation?

So, I think I'm related to San Francisco Police Chief Greg Suhr.

Hear me out on this one. I may not be as far off my rocker as you think I am.

My mom told me a story once about her dad's uncle (whose last name was Suhr) got fed up with living in the plains states and went west. My mom says she thinks she may have heard something about her great uncle falling for a Catholic girl, something good Lutherans from the middle of America didn't do at that time. Not sure if that's why he left or not. Neither is she but she thinks it might be. It could be that he was sick of the life he was leading and wanted to seek his fortune elsewhere.

Anyhow, they never heard from him again as long as I know.

Flash forward to about 10 years ago. My mom was visiting me in SF. She saw Chief Suhr on TV (except he wasn't Chief yet) being interviewed about something or another on the local news. She saw the Chief, thought he looked familiar. It's then she told me the story about her long lost great-uncle.

I called the Chief (except he wasn't chief yet) the next day and told him that my mom thought we were related. He sort of thought I was a nut case, but then I told him the story. He was either really good at humoring me or he thought my story was interesting because he was nice to me and listened to me talk, and even asked a few follow-up questions.

I don't remember how the conversation ended. The conversation never went any further than my one phone call to him. It still would be interesting to know if we're related.

Now, here's my proof, not that we're related, but that we could be related.

On the right is Chief Suhr. On the left is my cousin, my mom's brother's son. 

We're totally related, aren't we.

Baked Macaroni - So Terribly Out of Practice

I used to make macaroni and cheese a lot. It was one of my go-to standard meals and I would make a few times a month.



The Girl really liked my mac and cheese but she also liked the box kind. She would get mad at me when I told her we were having mac and cheese and I would hand her a plate of my mac and cheese and not Kraft or Annies. We decided we needed to call my version Baked Macaroni and the box version Mac and Chz.

(side note - Once The Girl spent the night at her friend's house. When she came home she told me that her friend's mom had made THE BEST mac/chz and would I please get the recipe. I called up the mom and she laughed and laughed. It turns out it was Annie's brand.)

It's been years and years since I made Mac and Chz. It's probably been about 2 years since I made Baked Macaroni, until yesterday. I was making a batch for some friends who just had a baby.

The Girl and The Boy were so super excited that we were going to actually have pasta in the house and they were going to get to eat it.

Man-o-man-o-Manischewitz am I out of practice.

Although I'm pretty sure the recipients of my baked macaroni got a good batch, I bought way way less pasta than I thought I needed and made way way way more cheese sauce than I needed. This resulted in the Kiddies not getting any, and the recipients of my creation wouldn't get as much as I wanted them to have.

It started out fine. The onions and garlic were sweating nicely. The secret ingredients were doing what they were supposed to be doing. When it came time to make the roux, the flour cooked nicely and nothing burned or stuck to the bottom of the pan. Trouble came when I added the milk. At first I didn't add enough. Then I added too much. Then it didn't get thick enough so I had to add some flour.

Because of this accidental augmentation of the bechamel I underestimated the amount of cheese I should use. I had a giant block of Tillamook extra sharp Cheddar as well as some Parmesan. I had to dig into our regular stash of cheese to make the cheese sauce cheesy enough. I was able to make a 9x13 pan of the baked macaroni but the kiddies didn't get any.

Even though we don't cook pasta at home anymore, I'm not heartless. I promised the Kiddies they would get some mac/cheese goodness and they will. I've got a pot of pasta shells boiling right now, and not the whole wheat kind.

I guess it's a good thing I have become out of practice of making delicious but unhealthy foods. It means I'm getting better at feeding my family the foods we should be eating.

Why I Hate Geese

Here's a story from when I was about 11 years old.

I wanted a Schwinn Beach Cruiser with pegs on the back wheels. I begged for one starting at about the time of my birthday in October, and didn't stop until I got one in December for Christmas, sort of.



I didn't actually get a Schwinn. What I ended up getting was a Stingray Beach Cruiser, and it didn't have pegs.

Almost the same, but not quite.

Anyhow, I used to ride it all over the place. One of the places I rode a lot was the duck pond at El Dorado Park.




One day I was riding around the duck pond trying to see how fast I could make it around. At one point a goose ran right towards me and bit my leg. On my next trip around the pond I tried to kick the goose. I missed, lost my balance on the bike and steered myself into the poop and moss filled duck pond.

The goose squawked, mocking me with his smug goose-ness.

I got up, picked some gravel out of my hands and rode my bike home with wet, mossy pants and scraped up and bleeding knuckles.

You Made Me Lie to My Son - an Open Letter to Applegate Organic and Natural Meats

Dear Applegate,

Hubby and I try our best to eat a Paleo diet. We're not the best at it, staying true to the spirit of the way of eating about 85% of the time.

We are always on the look-out for new ideas, inspiration and recipes. We are especially on the look-out for quick foods from the conventional grocery store by our house. That is why we were so excited to see Applegate Natural Chicken and Apple Breakfast Sausage. Hubby bought a box thinking we'd give it a try.

This morning I was running a bit behind (as usual), I hadn't had my coffee yet (not as usual) and looking for something quick for my toddler and me to eat. I pulled the sausage out of the freezer and through the sleep in my eyes, read the back of the box.

Your nutrition panel states that one serving comprises 3 sausages. Your cooking instructions give directions for 2 sausages and 4 sausages. According to your box, in order for me to have a complete serving of your sausage, I need to cook a portion 1/3 bigger than the recommended portion. Now I'm not an idiot. I can do math. I can infer that if cooking 2 sausages takes 1 1/2 minutes, then I could just add an additional 45 seconds to heat up the third sausage. However, microwaves don't always work on the principles of logical mathematical equations when heating up frozen things. I thought that 2 minutes 15 seconds would be too much for 3 frozen sausages. I decided to heat up my 3 sausages using the heating guidelines for 2 sausages. You wanna know what happened? It turns out that 1 1/2 minutes is too much for 3 sausages. One minute would have done it. OK, I'll concede that I was planning on giving one of the sausages to my toddler. Knowing the sausage was fully cooked I didn't need to heat it up to 165 degrees. I could just simply take the chill off before handing it to her. But I heated up my 3 sausages at 1 1/2 minutes, found it way to hot for even me to eat right away. I had to pass it back and forth from hand to hand making "ah-ah" noises and blowing on it before I could eat it. (yes, I know I could have just put it down on the plate and waited a minute and maybe passed the time by tying my shoes or making sure I had my bag packed for the day, but it was early and I hadn't had my coffee yet.)
Once I finished my sausages, I cut up my toddler's sausage into bite-sized pieces, put it in a little ramekin and put it on the table next to her brother who was eating the breakfast his dad had made for him. He asked me if I was feeding her last night's meatloaf for breakfast. I told him yes because I knew he'd ask for some and I didn't want to do more math and be confused with your heating instructions at 6:30am, before I had my coffee.

Thanks Applegate for making me do math and lie to my son.

By the way, your sausage were pretty good. I can't wait to eat them with some fried eggs and dip the sausage in the runny yolk before I take a bite.

Goodbye Sunset. Hello Excelsior! -- a dream

Hubby bought a new house that we were moving into. The first time I saw the house was when we moved in. I didn't have any input in choosing the house. It was up on a windy hill kind of like the streets when you get off the 101 at Caesar Chavez, but looked more like the Excelsior. As we were walking down the street to the house the local business owners and residents gave me suspicious glances. Their glances and stares softened when I told them we were moving in the house down the street. 

I got inside and the house was filled with staircases. I had a hard time figuring out which stair case was the best one to get to my bedroom. I was told the kids each had a bedroom on the ground floor but as hard as I looked, I couldn't find them. Hubby's and my room was on the top floor. It was huge. There were a few different stair cases leading up to the room. The staircases were painted red. There were all sorts of closets behind doors that Hubby hadn't checked out. I opened a green door and found a little kitchenette painted avocado green. I walked into the little kitchenette and looked on the shelves and found TONS of really great yarn in plastic ziplock bags. I was about to take the yarn out of the bags when I saw that the yarn was full of little black bugs. I was bummed I had to throw all the yarn away. 

Then I found Hubby in the middle of the room. I was sitting on the bed. He was sitting on the floor.  I noticed our cat Pauly was playing with something. I looked closer and realized it wasn't Pauly but rather a kitten with the same markings as Pauly. I said "oh look, a kitten." Hubby exclaimed "oh no. we have cats," much in the same way someone would complain about having a cockroach problem or gophers in the back yard. Then out from under the bed about 5 more kittens came out. One of them a patagial body, like a flying squirrel. The markings  formed a big red diamond shape in the middle of its back and rays radiated down to the skin flaps. It looked like a cape that Elvis would wear. I wanted to keep him.


Question - Am I using the word "patagial" correctly?

A Good Word Goes a Long Way

I was an administrative assistant and executive assistant for quite some time. Although I'm not anymore I'm still aware of what it's like to be one and the things they do to keep things running smoothly.  One of my biggest things one has to accept in being an admin is that one does not always get the recognition one deserves, or get credit for the work one does. In my job now I still work with the admin team to run events and such.



This morning I was at the coffee machine grabbing my cup of morning caffeine goodness. This woman who works in a completely separate department from me was getting her morning fix as well. I don't really work with this woman. Our jobs don't intersect. In fact, if we both didn't get our coffee at the same time in the morning or our tea the same time in the afternoon, I would have no real reason to interact with her. I mean, she's really nice and stuff, we just don't have any opportunity for our jobs at work to interact. Anyhow, she told me that this morning she saw my co-worker and I do some "behind the scenes" work in the office. Actually, we were polishing the Riedel glasses. (In my office, having sparkling wine glasses is important.) She said she wondered if anyone realized how much work we do and if they appreciated it. Then she stopped pouring her coffee and told me that she appreciated it. She knew it was a lot of work and she was thankful that we did it.

It really made my day.

Dessert!

I made my first Paleo dessert last night, and I'm not just talking about cutting up some fruit and putting it in a pretty dish.

So if you pay any attention to this blog in the last year or so you'll know that The Hubby and I have been working really hard to change the way we eat. We've changed our eating habits to reflect a more Paleo way of eating.

Wanting something sweet I made this; Brownie in a Mug from Paleo Desserts. It was pretty good. It wasn't the best consistency ever, but the taste was just what I wanted. Hubby and The Girl liked the taste but didn't like the texture.

So this recipe was GFV (gluten free vegan). I'm not vegan, and I don't have a gluten intolerance. Paleo says no gluten, which is why I made it. I have no problems eating animals or the products they produce. I mean, I don't think hunting for sport is OK. If you're going to kill an animal you should eat it, but by and large I believe that my teeth were made to bite and tear, which is perfect for eating animals. Truth be told, The Hubby is more strict about it than I am. At home I do a good job eating the right things. At work I do a pretty good job. If there's leftover lunch from some meeting I'll usually eat it. Sometimes saving a bit of money wins over eating right. When traveling for work I suck-diddly-uck at it especially since I travel to places where I have to eat in restaurants every night and not cook my own food. I try but it doesn't always work. Also, I'm not a diva about it. I'm not above taking one for the team. If I'm given a plate of food, sometimes I'll just eat the Paleo stuff and leave the rest alone. Sometimes I cave and eat it, like at my niece's wedding last month. I got the beef. The beef came with some really yummy looking mashed potatoes. I had a bit of the mashed potatoes. I'm not perfect, and the mashed potatoes were delicious. Also, if you saw me at the zoo today you saw  me take a few bites of my kids' dippin' dots. I try, but I'm weak.

Anyhow, I strayed from the recipe a bit in that I baked it in a water bath. I thought it would be safer to cook the ramekins in something rather than just on the rack. It didn't solidify as much as I wanted to. I think next time I make it I'll add an egg. It might make the texture less grainy. The flavor of the Brownie in a Mug was really good, but I think something to make it more brownie, less brownie batter-like will make it even better.

 

My Favorite Store

THE BEST .. (I'll say it again) .. THE BEST toy store in the whole wide world is Archie McPhee.

Need a Magical Unicorn Mask? They got it.
Need a Yodeling Pickle? Look no further.
Do your hands need underwear? Try Handerpants.

Just look at it. How could you not love this place?



Once I saved all my change for one whole year and spent the whole lot at Archie McPhee. It was fantastic. I got to shop in the actual store when we drove through Seattle on the way to my folks' house. When Hubby found out I had spent over $200 at the best toy store ever he was a little mad. Money is tight, y'know. His being mad for having spent so much money was ameliorated by me telling him where the money came from but he was still mad that I had over $200 of McPhee Magic that we had to carry across 3 states in our car, and then it would clutter the house.

That was easily 10 years ago, if not a few more. I've since then amassed a great fortune in Archie McPhee products. So much so that Hubby has put a lifetime ban on me buying anything from that store ever again, unless it was for someone else and it would never, ever be in our house.

So yesterday when I got home I got a big surprise. There was a box on the stairs with those magical words "Archie McPhee" written all over it. I smiled. Then a wave of panic washed over me. I blurted out "I swear I didn't buy anything at Archie McPhee." Turns out Hubby wasn't home so I texted him "I swear on my honor I did not spend money at McPhee.com."

The kids were home, though. They hovered over me until I opened the box and then dove into it as soon as the tape was removed. I had to shoo them away so I could dive in myself. It was my box. Why should they get to go first?

Here's what was inside -
  
 
plus a few other things I can't remember right now but they are just as cool and fantastic and magical as the stuff I just listed above.

Turns out my birthday is next week. My good friend E had sent the package. Hooray for me and thank you E. For my 16th birthday she gave me a 6 pack of Mountain Dew, which I probably drank to my head. This year's birthday present is pretty much just as cool. Thanks E!

San Francisco I Am Coming Back Again

I seem to hear the fog horns calling me.
I seem to hear the surf at Ocean Beach
And from Sutro Heights, I seem to see the lights of the City that is very dear to me.

I seem to see the windmills in the park
The Farrallons and the sharks
In fancy I am lead back to Mt. Davidson
San Francisco, I am coming back again.



                                

In Which a Golfer from Ottawa Saved Me From a Drunk Girl

I'm in Upstate New York right now visiting my company's Mother Ship.

Not quite used to the 3 hour time difference, when I got back to my hotel room last nightI put my head down on the bed and the next thing I knew it was 3 hours later.

I woke up, brushed my hair and went down to the hotel restaurant for some dinner.


I sat at the bar. I ordered a glass of wine and a cheeseburger.

Sitting two seats away from me was a woman. She started talking slurring to me. For the first five minutes of our conversation I was entertained. She told me she was local, she was the oldest of 7, not married, no kids, but she had 14 nieces and nephews, 8 of whom were under 5 years old. She also noted that she lived not too far away from the hotel and didn't have anything in her house to eat, and didn't feel like going to the grocery store to get something to cook, besides, she was craving her favorite drink, Captain Morgan and Diet Coke (yuck, I know).

By the time my burger came I was ready to be rid of this woman. I was no longer entertained. I thought that she'd leave me alone if I pretended to be really really interested in the burger in front of me and the baseball game on the TV. I was wrong. She kept talking, and starting every sentence with "I schwear to god . . ." and "Sssserioussllly . . ."

Just about the time the woman was ordering her 3rd Captain Morgan and Diet Coke a man came up to me and asked very politely if I would scoot over a seat so that he and his friend could sit together. Instead of sitting closer to the drunk lady I scooted the other way. The men sat down. I look over at the one sitting next to me and thanked him. He looked at me funny.

We talked for a moment. He was Canadian and in town for a golf tournament. I told him I was from San Francisco and in town on business. Our entire interaction lasted about 30 seconds. He and I were both satisfied with the brevity of our conversation and didn't talk any more. In the meantime, Captain Morgana, in an attempt to be charming and friendly, spilled her purse all over the lap of the guy who sat next to her, laughed it off, ordered another drink and kept talking.

I finished my burger, got a second glass of wine to take back to my room. As I was leaving the bar the man stopped me, motioned to Captain Morgana and said "now I understand why you thanked me."

I smiled, wished him luck, then went back to my room, drank my wine and watched TV until I fell asleep.

Say Cheese!

This weekend we went to my niece's wedding in Victorville, CA. I gave The Boy my camera to take some pictures of my niece's special day.

Enjoy.

I would like to give The Bride and Groom my very best wishes and hopes for the future filled with love and good humor.
Also, I wish for them an 8GB memory card and unlimited batteries for their camera when their kiddies are old enough to push buttons.

We Could Talk or Not Talk Forever and Still Find Things to Not Talk About

At work I take lunch around the same time everyday. Sometimes I bring my lunch. Sometimes I buy my lunch. Most of the time whether I bring or buy, I eat in the same spot.

Here's a pic of the eating area in my office. Not so bad, eh?

There are a few different people in the office who take lunch around the same time I do. I have to say I'm pretty lucky in the "those-who-take-lunch-around-the-same-time-I-do" department.

Today I had lunch with one of my lunch buddies. He sat at one end of the table and I sat at the other. I ate my lunch, he ate his. I read my book. He read his magazine. We heard some really loud horns coming from the Bay. It was really loud. It sounded like two cruise ships yelling at each other. We both looked up at each other, shrugged, half smiled then got back to reading and eating.

When he finished, he cleaned up his stuff and told me it was very nice to have lunch with me today. He totally meant it.

I really like that there's no uncomfortable silence between us. There's no need to break the silence with useless noise just so there would be noise. He just wanted to eat his lunch and read his magazine. I just wanted to eat lunch and read my book. For the record, we do talk. We talk everyday. Sometimes we joke. Sometimes we tell stories. Sometimes we complain about work. Today was just a no-talking day and that was fine with the both of us.

Put the Eggs in the Coconut Flour and Mix it All Up

This morning I tried my had at making pancakes made with coconut flour instead of using pancake mix, bisquik or whole wheat flour.

Here's what they were supposed to look like.

Mine did not look like that.

I used the recipe from this website. The directions were easy to follow. I wasn't sure what coconut nectar was so I skipped it. Nectar, to me, suggests something sweet. I was going to use some honey but I tasted the pancake batter and thought it was sweet enough. I don't like my pancakes too sweet. I like my toppings to be sweet. I don't think that by not adding the coconut nectar I messed them up.

The recipe said to make them small. So glad I did. They were super delicate and broke easily. I also had a hard time telling when it was just the right time to flip them over. They don't bubble in the same way as traditional pancakes.

The Boy didn't like them. He said they were too coconutty. The Girl said they were just OK but then changed her tune after she  drowned them in butter and syrup. I'm not sure if Bean had any. I left the house for the morning before she ate her breakfast, but when I got home, I ate the leftover pancakes and offered her a bite. She wouldn't eat any. I don't know if it was because she was full or if she didn't like it. Hubby said they were good but he could tell they were full of fiber. I liked the flavor, but thought the mouth-feel was grainy.

I would definitely make them again. I wonder if using a different recipe would produce a less grainy product. Then again, maybe it's just a characteristic of coconut flour. It'll be both yummy and fun finding out.

My Birthday Came Early

OK, my birthday didn't really come early, but I did have my yearly mammogram early this year. I usually have it closer to my birthday. It felt a little weird having it a little earlier than usual, like my schedule wasn't quite right. It's sort of like when the time changes and you change the box of baking soda in the refrigerator and change the batteries in the smoke detector. I have mammograms close to my birthday. Seems fitting. My birthday is in October. October is Breast Cancer Awareness month. Makes sense, to me at least.
Kaiser was totally on the ball, though. They called me in June telling me it was time. I blew them off because I knew I was going to have one in October. They kept calling and bugging me. I gave in and had my appointment. I wasn't trying to not have one, I just didn't want one until my self-appointed time.

Guidelines say if you're over 40 you should have a mammogram every 2 years. Kaiser will cover mammograms every year. I have one every year, but if you recall, I didn't have one last year as I was breastfeeding at the time. While the American Cancer Society says I could have had one, they also say that they may be not as accurate as breast tissue is more dense. Also, I had spent the 4 months prior to that being poked and prodded before the baby was born that I was a little sick of all the doctoring I had to endure.

Anyhow, I got it done and just like in the past, the procedure took about 10 minutes. It doesn't hurt, but it is a little uncomfortable.
While I was in the waiting area I took some selfies.



Afterwards I went to Sugarbowl Bakery and got some pork buns for The Girl and The Boy.

If you're over 40, get a mammogram every year. Whatever your age is, do self checks.

Until next year . . . . .