best bread. ever!

Please, for the love of all that is tasty, make this! The result is a rustic ciabatta bread, airy and chewy and crusty and wonderful.

Mix together 1 cup flour, 1/4 teaspoon yeast, and 2/3 cup warm water for about 2 minutes. Cover the bowl with plastic wrap and let it rise at room temperature for at least 12 hours. This is called the biga. Within 1-2 hours you will see very small bubbles forming - that's good!

Add 2 cups flour, 1/2 teaspoon yeast, 1 teaspoon salt, 1/3 cup non-skim milk, and 1/2 cup water to the biga. Be sure the milk and water is room temperature. Mix for about 5 minutes, then knead for 8-10 minutes. The dough will be very sticky, but do as best you can.

Cover bowl with plastic wrap and let rise for 2 hours.

Very gently fold dough a few times with a spoon, re-cover, and let rise for 45 minutes. Repeat. Do this very gently and only a few times - you don't want the gluten to go crazy. Fold, don't mix!

Gently divide dough in two. Take each half and gently fold in half, then press your well-floured fingers into both loaves so that there are indents all over the surface. The key word is "gentle" here! Let rise for another 45 minutes or so. Heat oven to 450.

When ready - finally! - spray surface of dough with water. Bake for 5 minutes and spray again. Repeat. Bread is done when the surface is golden and crusty and wonderful.

This is really, honestly, truly, the best bread! I've taken to keeping a little biga in the fridge, just in case I want a snack later.

Now, I'm the queen of substitutions and otherwise "doing it my own way" recipe-wise. However, don't you dare try to use yogurt, soy milk, or skim milk! The proteins in the milk are what makes the texture airy and bubbly. I'm going to attempt a gluten-free batch next week. If you can manage to save some of the bread for the next day, it does not go stale overnight and makes for wonderful paninis in the morning.

***
Usefulness of the day: If you prefer to air-dry your clothing but don't like the stiffness, pour plain white vinegar in the fabric softener holder. The stiffness is a result of detergent residue, and vinegar will dissolve it.

prayer request

This afternoon, I pulled into a gas station, thirsting for a cold beverage. I parked next to a red sedan and noted that the driver was asleep. I was not concerned - I know that I have caught catnaps here and there.

But walking back, I felt a sense of unease. I peeked in the car and saw a spent syringe on the driver's lap. Given the area, she was likely not a diabetic...if you get my drift. I phoned 911 while letting the station's manager know what was going on. 911 assured me that a team was on its way, and I asked the station's manager to check through an open window to be sure the driver was breathing. I spent good money of those CPR classes, yo. "She is just really, really, really high, I think," he said.

Non-responsive, but breathing. So I left. As much as I wanted to remain and know that she was ok, I knew that I would never know that she was, truly, ok. And, given that, my presence would only be of the gawker variety. No need for those. She was - is - a young girl. By her college sweatshirt and the college decal on her car, I assume she is a student. Please pray for her. I assume she survived her "high," but please pray that she survives. Please pray that she would know that her Creator loves her - dearly loves her - and that tremendous joy can be found in places other than a needle.

***
In other news, if you feel so inclined to pray that I land a job soon...it is also tremedously appreciated. Matthew 18:19 and all :)

thou shalt not

steal!

On Friday night I went out for dinner and drinks with a few girlfriends. One friend parked on a main street in the middle of the city. We had a lovely time. I got my fill of baba ganouj and garlicky cucumber yogurt soup with iced mint tea and sampled a tahini sauce that made my palate sing and...

Well, I'm turning into my grandmother, aren't I? No story can be told without detailing the food.

Around midnight, we walked Friend back to her car. A few cars away, we all saw that the rear passenger window was open. Now, if you live in the city, you never think, "did I leave the window open?" You know that "oh, great. Someone broke into my car."

Friend did an inventory while I reported it to the police. This city's police handle all broken-in cars by phone these days because, as the officer noted, "there are so many; crime is really, really bad these days."

That's brotherly love for you.

Gone was her GPS, satellite radio, a fistful of random cords, and cool little coin purse. Before you feel pangs in your own empathetic heart: the GPS was low-end $50 unit, the radio was broken beyond repair, and the coin purse contained an estimated $.12. Even better! All those cords were broken. They left the only working cord! And they left the GPS cord, too. Replacement GPS cords, I'm told, are almost as expensive as the unit itself. They also took two vouchers for a complimentary meal for two at any Hilton restaurant. (I'm praying that the thief uses those to treat his mother next month.)

Then, a howl. "They took my WORK clothes!" My heart stopped. I know how expensive work clothes are, especially hers. I quickly prayed that the work clothes would find their way to someone who needed a really, really nice interview suit. "Was it your interview suit?" I asked, afraid to hear the answer.

"Nah, just a few shirts," she said, calming down. "And something else, too..." she murmured.

The stolen bag held her dirty, filthy, disgusting laundry from a recent business trip. Work shirts, gym clothes, and unmentionables. All stinky and sweaty. Sexy. But even better (or worse!) she had suffered what she delicately called "extreme ladybit issues" on her trip and the evidence was all over the bottoms.

So that was the haul: a bunch of useless plastic, two meals for two, and a bag of clothing that definitely qualifies as biohazardous material at this point.

Crime doesn't pay, kids!

On a more serious note, I am increasingly saddened by how many people out there have zero regard for the property of others. I'm not naive and I know that there are far more serious crimes. But it makes me sad. Remember when I hit my friend's neighbor's car? The guy was floored that I knocked on his door. Plenty of people told me that I could have - and even should have - just driven off. I don't say that to put the spotlight on my values :) but to show the sad, sorry state we're in. Where honesty and doing the right thing is rare and, when we see something we want, we are loath to let trifling matters of finances or ownership get in the way.

The break-in occurred on a busy street on a Friday night between 8pm and midnight. The car was alarmed. And the Upright Moral Citizen(s) had plenty of time: the mess of papers in the glove compartment was meticulously sorted and several expired vouchers for complimentary meals were left behind. I'm certainly not proposing that any of the multiple people who had to have seen this go down were under any obligation to step in. I know I would not, not with the number of trigger-happy thugs in this city. But, to put it bluntly, one has to have some pretty big cahunas to smash a window and take his sweet time. Don't tell me it was some crackhead, because he had enough presence of mind to sort through the unexpired and expired meal vouchers. Yes, I know that theft or damage to another's property has been around for a while, but...I can't help but theorize that it is related to today's culture of gimme, gimme, gimme, and gimme now!

***
Usefulness of the day: Can't hurt to stash a roll of duct tape and a couple of heavy-duty contractors trash bags in the car just in case you need to tape up any windows!

sewing update 1

Someone chided me for not posting pictures so here they are!

The machine. It belonged to a woman's father who was a tailor. Included with the machine was a box packed with very old sewing stuff. Buckets of vintage threads on what looked like hand-carved spools, bags of sharp tools and brushes, some kind of a ruler and clamp contraption that I'm guessing is as to a shirt as a vise is to a carpentry project, vintage cigar boxes of buttons, more than 100 zippers, and more stuff I don't even know how to describe. All of it promptly freecycled. As I combed through this cool vintage stuff, all perfectly labeled in the handwriting of someone who actually learned penmanship, I imagined the father would have been good friends with my cobbler, who is 95 years old, blind as a bat, perpetually high as a kite from all the polish fumes...and who does an impeccable job on my shoes for a good price.

And the fabric that started it all. "That is going to be an obnoxious bedspread," my mother said. "Perfect! I replied. "Matches your daughter's personality!" I used to be painfully shy. Then I learned to overcompensate. Then overcompensation became natural. Then I needed a matching bedspread.

About a year ago I discovered Heather Bailey fabrics, swooned, and dashed over to etsy for anything in her prints. The photo of these pre-cut squares caught my eye and didn't let go until check-out. I suffer from twin problems: poor impulse control and the mistaken belief that I am crafty. Which is why I am not allowed in Michael's anymore. I am chock-full of grand sweeping ideals, but the follow-though and actual requisite skills don't exist.

I laid out the squares last summer to hand-sew. Then, after threading a needle, I got distracted by some shiny object bored. And that was the end of that. Until a sewing machine landed in my car trunk.

I love it when things land in my life.

Exhibit A.

Exhibit B.

I posted on freecycle yesterday, offering a homemade meal or resume editing for a sewing lesson. Reason 436 why I heart freecycle: a dozen ladies offered to come over, give some demos, and have me start the quilt as they watch and correct.

If you have Johnson & Johnson stock, buy. Band-Aid sales are going to dramatically increase.

***
Usefulness of the day: Can't find (or broke) your camera cord? Pop out the memory card: there is usually a drive on your computer that will take it. To get the pictures, go Start>Computer>Devices with removable storage. The card should be listed there.

insert rolled eyes here.

Disclaimer: "feminism" means 10 different things to 10 different people. Feminists are a wildly diverse lot, I've learned, and what one "feminist" believes is a reasonable, well-argued "feminist" goal or objective another "feminist" also reasonably believes is yet another link in the Chains of the Patriarchy.

With that.

Sometimes an apron is

wait for it...

...just an apron!

Feminist Kristen Painter was delighted to receive an apron as a gift. But then, something happened.

This cheery little number propelled her straight into a "feminist identity crisis." Watch out, people. Those aprons are a clear psychological threat to one's psyche.

"I was asking myself, "Am I perpetuating the idea that female domesticity is our only contribution to society and therefore our only value?!"

Thankfully, said crisis was over soon.

"I quickly assessed myself, my motives, why I enjoy the apron, who had given it to me, and I realized I was ok. I am not sacrificing my ideals by wearing the apron. The fact that it came from a like-minded, feisty feminist herself helped calm my brief freak out."

Well. I'm glad. I never had much use for sitting around and theorizing whether my [insert random neutral household item here] was perpetuating anything or, have mercy, "sacrificing my ideals."

That's the problem with just about every single -ist group out there. Not just feminists, not by a long shot! They all suffer from a shared tendency to spend far too much time, effort, and mental energy fretting about perpetuating instead of, say, enjoying a pretty, machine-washable present that just happens to protect one's clothing from splatters. Is examining whether X perpetuates Y worthwhile? Of course. Just not All. The. While.

My parents were very keen on raising me to be a Strong Independent Woman. Accordingly, my mother banned Barbies (unhealthy body image) and chose to have me called by my middle name, theoretically unisex but definitely masculine. Even she was very happy when my father gave her a fancy new vacuum cleaner for Christmas one year. And anyone remember that scene in Father of the Bride where the woman broke off the engagement when her fiance gave her a blender? Puh-lease. Who cares about perpetuating when one can have powerful suction technology and smoothies?

Hope Ms. Painter's significant other gives serious contemplation to her next birthday gift.

Oy.

what is the world coming to?!?!

In breaking news, the Wall Street Journal reports that leather shorts are in.

For summer.

Sorta how bare legs in a skirt were/are in. For winter.

I think I'm the only female in my generation who would consider going without nylons for a summery beach dress. Maybe. Then again, my skin is nearly blue so going bare-legged is practically an affront to public decency.

Anyway.

Do you see those? Those shorts have a "paper bag waist."

"Paper bag waist" sounds rawther shabby chic. Taking a cue from Mugatu's Dere-lict! campaign, are we?
Ladies, don't be fooled! The only people who should be wearing pleat-front bottoms - and that is what the "paper bag" is! - are the gentlemen who grace the pages of Brooks Brothers and L.L. Bean.

Just watchin' out for ya!

***

Usefulness of the day: Well, if the above wasn't useful enough for you...even if it doesn't look dusty, be sure to regularly clean your computer (and television) screen to reduce eye strain.

sewing machine!

A neighbor gave me her old sewing machine before she moved. I'd like to try it! I've had these lovely Heather Bailey pre-cut quilt squares for more than a year and would love to do somethingwith them. The machine came with a large, heavy box of thread, zippers, and bobbins.

Bobbins. Don't know what they are, but they (1) sound sharp and (2) accordingly, will find their way into my fingers soon.

Any suggestions for how-to websites, books, etc.? My fine motor and spatial reasoning skills are non-existent. I could find a way to suffer serious bodily injury in a padded room. And, when it comes to anything artsy with the exception of photography, I have the attention span of a

oooh, something shiny over there!


Yes. So any advice for an extreme beginner who needs to avoid injury while stitching together a patchwork quilt?

When the dogs' "other mommy" - my former Roommate - moved out, we agreed a joint custody arrangement was best for everyone. Then former Roommate decided that the dogs were better with me and, while she takes Coco for the occassional overnight, ol' Frick and Frack are basically mine.

Lord, help me.

The difference really isn't significant. When we lived together, former Roommate traveled a great deal. As in, at least 3 weeks out of the month. As we lived together for about five years - in which I went from being terrified of all dogs to debating adding a third! - the natural progression was that we became co-owners. And, by circumstance, I was (very happily) doing at least 90% of the parenting. She decided to keep it that way.

But it is handy to have an extra set of, well, hands, at the dog park.
As you can tell, certain boys know exactly where we are headed.

And all I have to say about this is that in my car, all dogs are properly restrained in the rear. But what fun are rules on a sunny Saturday morning?

forsaken

This is probably either (1) a really stupid question or (2) one of those questions that, along with "where did Cain's wife come from?" we're just not supposed to ask. I actually did ask the below (and preceding) question in my ladies Bible study group, which were met with assorted clucks and variations on the passive-aggressive "I'll pray for you," which we all know is nice Christian speak for "you are a total moron."

Why did Jesus think that God abandoned him?

***
Usefulness of the day: Need to buy a large quantity of fancy resume paper? FedEx/Kinkos usually has 500 packs of it. Much cheaper than Staples. You probably have to ask for it; the big packs are not typically on display. Ask how I know :/.

dog safety kit

With all the things Jack (and, to a lesser degree, Coco) has managed to scarf down, you'd think I'd have my act together with a box full of doggie first aid. Nope. But I put one together this weekend after a wee little incident involving Jack and raw bread dough on Easter.

1. Put the ASPCA's pet poison control hotline in your phone. The number is (888) 426-4435 and there is usually a $65 fee. I can't say enough about their hotline; having called it so many times I half-expect them to answer, wearily, "hello, Jack's mom." A vet - not a trained operator - answers quickly, you take care of billing after you get the dog stabilized, and you can call back as many times as you want for the same case.

2. Know the fastest way to a vet ER. Program it into your GPS and have it plugged into your phone.

Drugs

Depending on what the toxin is, contact a vet before administering! Some substances are more dangerous if vomited - acidic, alkaline, and petroleum products, for example.

3. Have fresh hydrogen peroxide (3% USP) on hand to induce vomiting...from experience, I can say that "tickling" the back of the throat does not work!

4. Activated charcoal tablets to absorb toxins

5. Benadryl pills (anti-histamine only)

6. Milk of Magnesia to counteract acids

7. White vinegar to counteract alkalines

8. OTC vet anti-anxiety/sedative

Tools

9. Scissors

10. Good tweezers

11. Turkey baster

12. Needleless syringe (same kind you might find attached to pediatric cough syrup)

13. Eyedropper

14. Rectal thermometer

15. Muzzle

16. Duct tape

17. Penlight

18. Q-tips

19. Tablespoons

20. Large Ziploc bags for storing any samples


Other supplies

20. Beach towels

21. Paper towels

22. Sterile gauze

23. Athletic bandages

24. Blanket or dropcloth for transport

25. Disposable gloves


Food and drink

26. Canned yummy food for giving drugs, such as wet dog food. Peanut butter and sprayable Cheez-Whiz is good, too.

27. Shelf-stable liquid for giving drugs, such as canned milk or broth. Instant mashed potatoes also works.

28. Canned pumpkin. Not pumpkin pie filling, but plain pumpkin. Good for constipation.

29. Bread. Try to keep a loaf on hand.

30. Ice. Try to keep ice in the freezer.



Whew! That's a lot of stuff. Most people have the majority of these items in the house, but it can be very convenient to have them all in one place.



Storytime! Most of our vet emergencies have been real. The time Jack ate 34 sticks of Miracle Grow...or a box of chocolate Ex-Lax...or when Coco ate a Starbucks espresso brownie, thereby turning a $3 treat into a $600 overnight ER trip. But, once, Jack faked a back injury.


I had a friend staying with me for a few weeks and, apparently, Jack felt he wasn't getting enough attention. On New Year's Day, he was on my bed on the fourth floor of a rowhome, crying. The darn dog acted as if he was paralyzed or seriously injured. "How the heck do I get a 120lb dog off a bed, down 4 flights of stairs, down the block, and into the car?" I wondered. I called the ER, who told me they did not have an ambulance service but did give me the number of the Dog Charmer.


Dog. Charmer.


I can't make this up, people! The Dog Charmer came over, whispered into Jack's ear, and within minutes he was limping heavily and whimpering all the way into the car.


Then, after blood work and X-rays and CT scans and the entire vet student night staff of the hospital standing around him trying to figure out what was wrong...a cat walked by. Jack leapt off a high exam table, flew down the hall, stopped, turned, locked eyes with me, and grinned the biggest grin of his life.


Ok, boy. You got what you wanted: more than a dozen caring, concerned people fussing all over you for hours. Never, ever underestimate this dog. When he wants quiet snuggly time and kisses, he will cozy up to me, whimper, and show me where the breeder removed his dewclaws. When he was 6 weeks old.


Ever see those signs in convenience stores, "do not accept checks from this person" with a name and a photo? Yeah, there is still a picture of Jack in the ER nurses' station labeled "FAKER."


He went by a similar-sounding nickname for a few months after that.


Still does.

The first tulip of the season.
The tulips didn't emerge until late April late year. Yay, global warming!

The lilacs are just beginning, too.
These are last year's lilacs, but I just could not get a decent picture yesterday!

Hope you all have a lovely weekend. I am praying hard about the job I really, really, really want...I'm feeling now like I probably won't get it. Oh well. Still praying...want to join me? :)

Friday was cold! I met a friend for drinks and had to wear my winter coat. Saturday I thought about doing yard work; I really, truly had big plans to till and rake and such. But then a friend asked if I had any interest in wandering around a very quaint little town's very quaint shopping district that just happens to have what might be the world's best cheese shop and I just couldn't say no! I spent all day Sunday with the world's cutest, sweetest baby girl.

I guess I'm just full of superlatives today.

Calling all prayer warriors!

Or rain dancers or sage burners or senders of good karma...

I had an interview this afternoon. It went very well. Loved the firm, loved the tye of work, loved the guy I'd be working under, loved the support staff, loved that the position comes with my own parking space (downtown parking is no fun), loved it ALL. The interviewer was honest and told me he is only considering me and one other candidate. The other has more experience, but trained under an attorney my hopeful boss doesn't like; hopeful boss is concerned that the other candidate has some very bad habits that are too entrenched to change. I have less experience, but my big selling points are (1) loyalty - unlike most of my generation, I don't want to job-hop and (2) I can bring (and have brought) in lots of business. The interviewer definitely loved that.

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PRAY HARD that I get this job! It would be a perfect fit.

wishing you all...

...a very happy, healthy, blessed Easter.

It's a small world!

Three years ago, I hired a new dog walker.

Our old one was amazing and wonderful and almost insanely concerned about the dogs' well-being. She was a corporate attorney who got tired of The Man, started a dog walking business, and quickly realized the dog parents are - to put it politely - more challenging than corporate clients. She went back to law but kept me as her sole client as she grew quite attached to Jack and Coco. Coco cried when she left each day...and Coco has never cried for anyone. Eventually, though, her schedule didn't allow consistent walks and she reluctantly told me to find a new walker.

I really liked the new walker, K, and she did a wonderful job. I've had walkers who start out great and then, slowly, the 30 min walk becomes 20 min becomes a quick walk around the block. Not so with K. She actually walked them for an extra 10-20 min every day and totally loved on them. (I know because I borrowed a friend's nannycam a few times...) K was awesome, the dogs were happy, and I was happy.

Who wouldn't love these two?

Then, in early 2008, she just didn't show up one day and didn't respond to my (super-nice, "are you ok?") messages - both completely out of character for her. Then she didn't show the next day. Or the next. Or respond to any messagees. By now, I was quite concerned. She was a young, pretty woman who, I knew, did a lot of jogging in a park. I even considered calling the police, but there was no mention of a missing woman in the news, so I dropped it. The weeks went on and I sent a final message asking her to return my house key and to let me know if I owed her any money. No response.

Now, I'm a pretty good dog mamma. I always pay promptly and give a nice Christmas bonus. I give a 2-hour range of when I'd like the sitter to visit...I don't care if the walker is running late and comes at 2pm instead of noon. When the sitter has to stay overnight, I leave out a bottle of wine with a note detailing where the DVDs and bubble bath are kept. K and I even maintained a non-dog related semi-friendship, meeting for coffee here and there. So I was confused. Had I done something wrong?

I began to imagine scenarios. An illicit love affair. Fled from creditors. Bipolar disorder. Joined a cult. A few months later, I was bored and did a search on her email address. Lo and behold, she was apparently a wedding planner in Central America. Whew. Not dead. Just...flaky.

Flash foward to now. I have two apartments that I am trying to rent. And K responded to a for-rent ad. No doubt it was her - she has an unusual name and it was her email address.

Guess she is back in town.