Look! Pie!

For the past few minutes, I was working on a post about how I didn't feel good and WebMD can turn me into a hypochondriac with every condition from the flu to lyme disease. But that post felt whiny and boring. But I have just a few days left of NaBloPoMo and I'm not about to fail now. So look at my beautiful Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie and enjoy the recipe below.

Ingredients

Crust

• 30 small gingersnap cookies (about 7 1/2 ounces)
• 2 tablespoons raisins
• 1 tablespoon canola oil

Filling

• 1 cup canned pumpkin puree
• 1/3 cup packed brown sugar
• 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon
• 1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
• 1/4 teaspoon nutmeg
• 2 pints (4 cups) frozen low-fat vanilla yogurt, softened (see Tip)

Preparation

1. Preheat oven to 350°F. Coat a 9-inch deep-dish pie pan with cooking spray.
2. To prepare crust: Combine gingersnaps and raisins in a food processor and pulse until finely chopped. Add oil and pulse until blended. Press evenly into the bottom and up the sides of the prepared pan.
3. Bake the crust until set, about 10 minutes. Transfer to a wire rack to cool completely.
4. To prepare filling: Combine pumpkin, sugar, cinnamon, ginger and nutmeg in a large bowl and mix well. Add ice cream and stir until blended. Spoon the mixture into the cooled pie crust. Freeze until firm, at least 2 hours. Let the pie soften slightly in the refrigerator for 20 to 30 minutes before serving.

• Tip: To soften ice cream quickly, microwave on Medium-Low for 30 to 60 seconds.

Two things

1. Thanksgiving dinner was wonderful. I highly recommend all three of the recipes I tried from EatingWell.com.

2. While Ripley still has no social graces and doesn't really appreciate the wee one visiting, both dogs enjoy our back yard. See? Pictures!

She might not notice if I stay way back here.

Oops! She noticed.

Please be my friend.

Happy Thanksgiving

After yesterday's miserable failure at trying to cook chestnuts, I took a giant chance and bought a new batch from a different store. This morning, I roasted them (cut an X on the flat side of each nut, spread them on a baking sheet and bake at 400 degrees for 20 minutes). I'm guessing I got bad nuts the last time because these came out beautifully. Really, this picture doesn't do them justice.

Chestnuts are odd. They taste a bit like bacon, so they should taste good in the Brussels Sprouts. My pumpkin mousse pie also looks lovely. If nothing else, our table will look great. And even if the food ends up tasting less beautiful than it looks, I will still have plenty to be thankful for today.

Things like:
my friends (furry and otherwise)
my family
the S.O. (who counts as both -- friend and family, but not furry)
cheesy SciFi shows
silly video games
laughter
my health
the S.O.'s job
and a beautiful sunny day in which to enjoy the little things in life.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Chestnuts roasting on an open FAIL!

I guess I thought I was Martha Stewart, imagining that I could cook my own chestnuts for my Thanksgiving dinner. Silly girl. I followed directions (from a recipe Web site) for roasting them in the oven -- to no avail. I followed the S.O.'s experience with steaming chestnuts -- nope. They are hard little rocks. Not something that will evoke thoughts of home.

So, despite my best efforts to have everything I need for tomorrow's dinner, I have to run back out to the store.

What's on the menu

I'm trying to include some healthier side dishes in our Thanksgiving dinner this year. In addition to turkey and stuffing -- which the S.O. makes and are delicious -- I am making:

• Brussels Sprouts with Chestnuts & Sage
• Smashed Spiced Sweet Potatoes
• Frozen Pumpkin Mousse Pie

(All from EatingWell.com) I'll let you know how they turn out. But they sure sound yummy. No Tofurkey in this house!

Activities on the menu are playing with the S.O.'s new Playstation 3, board games, several episodes of Farscape and playing with Ripley and my dear friend's puppy.

It promises to be a fun day.

Vanity, thy name is Pammeey

For some reason, I got it in my head that I need to whiten my teeth. Honestly, I think it's television and the movies. Have you seen how blindingly white actors' teeth are these days? Whatever the reason, I picked up some teeth whitening strips. (Don't judge me.) Because I'm all about trying to save a buck or two, I bought the Target brand equivalent of the Listerine Whitening Quick Dissolving Strips. I doubt there's much difference and I'm not planning to find out.

I have to wonder if vanity is worth it. The strips are quite sticky, and you aren't careful (and yes, I speak from experience) you will end up with your jaw stuck shut for several minutes while the strips dissolve. And the dissolving process is kind of gross. You'll look a bit like a mad dog for a few minutes.

But once they've dissolved, your mouth will feel minty, then it will feel normal. I'm only on my first day of trying the strips so I can speak to their actual effectiveness. But they're kind of weird.

And it's all for the sake of vanity.

Ripley gets new food

I suppose it's an age thing, but Ripley has recently developed bad doggy gas. Sometimes, she'll run up the stairs and toot. It's kind of cute, because she'll stop and look around, as if to say, "What the heck was that." Not so cute is when she's curled up in my lap (as she is while I type this) and passes gas. At those times, she tries to play it off like nothing happened.

So, in the interest of her well-being and not having to smell dog farts, the S.O. and I took a trip to the pet store to look for a different food. She's been eating Iam's as long as I've had her, but lately it obviously isn't agreeing with her. The new food is a lamb and rice formula that contains no corn or soy. Apparently those two ingredients can mess with doggy digestion. We have to slowly introduce the new food, mixing it with the old, so it'll be at least a week before we know if the new food makes any difference. Let's hope it does.

While at the pet store, I replaced Ripley's old tag with a stylish new one. I usually try to go with more tough stuff, but this was so cute -- and the S.O. picked it out.
I know I've been posting about the dog a lot, but I don't have kids. This is all I have, people.

Ripley helps with laundry

Maybe that should be "helps" with laundry -- and maybe I should also say this isn't voluntary. But it's pretty darn cute.

Resisting temptation

With an early deadline for my test drive next week, I decided to work on it over the weekend. That way next week will be open to just relax and fix the big meal.

I thought it would be easier to get out of the house. So I headed to Barnes & Noble, where there is free WiFi and (of course) Starbucks. The holidays are coming, and Starbucks has its signature holiday lattes on offer -- sticky sweet coffee drinks with a ton of whipped cream on top, like gingerbread latte, peppermint mocha and caramel brulee latte. They all sound and look delicious -- and full of really unnecessary calories. So I resisted and got tea. yum.

No. I love tea. But gingerbread latte? Come on!

UPDATE: I have to add that Starbucks is packed and noisy and not doing much for motivating me to work on this test drive. Also, is it so unusual to see someone typing on a laptop that you have to stare at me?

It Takes a Village

The neighbor's gate malfunctioned yesterday, and her dog was wandering the street in front of my house. Knowing the dog's name, I went out and called to her. When I started toward her, she decided Chase is the funnest game in the whole world and ran from me -- right into the street, with cars coming from both directions. Thankfully, they saw her and stopped. I finally caught her and walked her to the neighbor's house. She wasn't home, so I brought the dog back to my house.

I put her in the back yard, then opened the back door and let her come inside. Ripley and she have met -- the neighbor's daughter has watched Ripley when we go out of town -- but dogs have short memories. So much sniffing and circling ensued. Finally, the neighbor dog decided things were cool and went into the classic Let's-Play stance. Let me pause here to mention the neighbor's dog is a full-grown Black Lab. Ripley, lacking social graces and being endowed with little dog syndrome, mistook Let's-Play for Let's-Fight and got all barky and snappy. It is her house after all.

Back outside went the neighbor's dog, none to happy about it. I spent the next few hours looking out the back window to make sure she didn't pull a Houdini on me and looking out the front window to see if the neighbor had come home. I left messages on her answering machine and a note in the door but I worried she'd see the open gate and panic.

About 4 p.m. the neighbor's next-door neighbor got home, so I talked to her about taking the dog. The S.O. was gone and I had to leave shortly. I just didn't feel comfortable leaving the dog in the back yard alone. This neighbor had watched the dog before so she took her to her house. Later in the evening, I got a phone call from the dog owner:

I understand you found my wayward dog. Thank you for finding her and keeping her. Like I told K, it takes a village. We're working on that gate.

I know I have a prejudice against Labs. They're sweet, beautiful dogs but they also have to be the goofiest creatures on God's green earth. I think it really does take a village with a dog like that.

My dog -- a rat terrier, you know -- is anti-social when it comes to other dogs. She's content to hang out in the sun and soak up the attention of one or two people. Huh. Maybe dogs and their owners really do come to resemble one another.

The Culprit, Part II: Attack of the Inanimate Objects

A while back, I broke my good vegetable peeler. (I was trying to peel thin pieces of cheese for a recipe. It was a tip from a cookbook, so don't judge me.) It was guaranteed, so I knew I could get a new one. In the meantime, I bought a cheap one to use.

Big mistake. This one is like a weapon. Its serrated (!) blade grabs anything that comes near -- peels, dish towels, human skin. I managed to slice a chunk out of my index finger without even trying. I can't even blame slippery turnips for it.












It has a cover on the blade for storage, but even putting the cover on is a dangerous endeavor. It grabbed my thumb like a thistle and took a painful, tiny bite.

I have since received a replacement for the good one, so this vicious thing is going in the trash -- or possibly, hazardous waste.

The culprit

I was all set to write a post about the scary vegetable peeler I bought a few weeks ago -- and will get to that in a minute -- then my dog created a new post for me with the same title. Somehow, she got into the bag of candy I have for my kids at tutoring. As I passed from the bedroom toward my office, I saw her holding something in her front paws and setting to work chewing on it. My first thought was that the S.O. had given her a rawhide bone to chew on so he could sleep in. But we never give her that bone in the morning. So my second thought was that the killer had caught a bird and brought it into the house to devour. Ew. Then I realized it was a Tootsie Pop miniature. She was holding it by the stick and trying to chew the wrapper off. And she'd chosen chocolate. It was pretty cute and I would have gotten a picture if I weren't more concerned about her health and safety.

Bad dog.

Six Words

DOVE Peanut Butter Milk Chocolate PROMISES

Mandatory Pet Pics

Ripley crashed out on a pillow in the sunshine, wearing her little doggy sweatshirt.

I obviously disturbed her by taking her picture, so she changed positions. Still cute.

She actually enjoys wearing the little sweatshirt when it's really cold out. And don't worry, she still looks tough in it.

I can't stop thinking about this

Colorado Springs has a shop called Vacuums and Dragons. They don't have a Web site, so I can't share that with you. They sell and service vacuum cleaners AND they have "historical medieval replicas and gifts." If you want proof, you can look at a picture at this blogger's site.

There's a commercial on TV for this shop, with the focus on the vacuum sales and services. It's just such a strange combination, I think I really need to go in there. I've gotten kind of obsessed with the idea of a shop that sells vacuums and dragons. I even dreamed of it last night.

I have a test drive this morning, maybe I should take the car up to this shop, just to ease my curiosity. I'm picture dragons actually using the vacuums.

Contemplating a career change

Today, I'm thinking about a career change. Or maybe I should say, I'm thinking about a career embarkation, because I don't really have a career now, per se.

Having spent the past several months working with a personal trainer, I'm wondering if it's something I could do, if it's something I'd want to do and if I'm really in good enough shape to motivate someone else.

I feel like my part-time job as a site coordinator for the Children's Literacy Center is really important. I feel like I'm making a difference. But it's just a few hours a week and doesn't pay much. Not that I think I'd make much money as a personal trainer either.

I think my high school guidance counselor failed me. I still don't know what to be when I "grow up." As long as I can remember, I wanted to be a writer. Unfortunately, in today's world, with "citizen journalists," bloggers and the like, there doesn't seem to be as much call for actual writers. Unless I can figure out the next big thing -- as a colleague and I once discussed, "Mary Kotter" seems a bit obvious -- and write a huge best seller and option the movie rights, I don't think my writing career is going to rake in the big bucks.

With the snow coming down in fits and spurts today, and the sky alternating between partial sun and slate gray, I'm contemplating what to do next -- with my career and my life. These are pretty deep thoughts for a Sunday afternoon -- thoughts driven by another Monday looming, another aimless week, another a test drive of a car I've driven before, another winter that seems to be shaping up to be dreary and cold.

So I definitely need some kind of change, right? This doesn't feel like a buy-some-new-shoes kind of funk or a red-wine-and-chocolate-can-fix-anything sort of mood. Then again, maybe it is the cloudy sky, and I'll feel better when the sun shines again.

Focus on the positive

Knowing that the gloomy, wintry weather would probably keep me housebound this weekend, I got in a Saturday workout with Joe and a couple Boot Campers I don’t get to see other days of the week. We did a lot of boxing, which can be a lot harder than some of our normal exercises. It’s also very empowering. There’s nothing quite like punching something as hard as you can — safely, of course.

As we were finishing up, I commented to one of the other campers that she had great legs. Her response: Who me? It made me realize (1) many of us are not very good at taking compliments and (2) we have a tendency to focus on the negative things about ourselves.

When you look in the mirror, do you see the good things or do your eyes immediately settle on your trouble zones? I know that my eyes settle on my midsection — the part I like least about myself. Joe suggests taking a full-length photo of yourself. With a Sharpie, write your goals on the photo. Additionally, you should write good things on the photo. How about things like “I want to tone my middle” and “I love my strong, toned arms.”

I know “self-talk” is a bit of a cliche, but sometimes we have to say nice things to ourselves. We have to remind ourselves that we’re stronger, have more energy, feel better and yes, look better thanks to our workouts. Maybe your trouble area isn’t as toned as you’d like it to be, but I bet you can find something about yourself you do like. Give it a try. You may feel silly at first but you may realize there are a lot more positives than you originally thought.

Cross posted

It's Friday!

Take that, week!

And now for some real controversy

And to wash the angry out of my mouth ...

It's true. They are.

In which I get controversial*

Yesterday, I read something that reminded me a billboard here in town that shows a young boy leaning against a disembodied pregnant belly. The sign says, "A person's a person, no matter how small."

I hate that billboard with a passion and it makes me so angry every time I see it -- because of its imagery and for highjacking Dr. Seuss for a self-righteous, misguided message. You see, the message I take away from it is this: A person's a person, no matter how small -- unless it's a pregnant woman. Then she's just a belly -- a vessel for carrying the real person.

Ugh.

*to some people