Yesterday it snowed 13 inches (0fficially) but there was so much drifting that we had two-foot drifts in our front yard.  I put on my brand new snow pants and a sweatshirt and went outside to shovel snow from my car and the driveway, something I’d done multiple times since moving to Colorado last summer.   I cleaned off the car and shoveled snow with my bum shoulder, and then tromped my damaged knees through the two foot snow drifts in the front yard, just to test out my new snow pants.  Then I tromped some more into the back yard to take some pictures of the snow drifts forming on the neighbors garage.  The drift was rather elegant and artistic and it deserved a photo shoot.

Usually I load up on the ibuprofen, three or four times a day, from two to four tablets, just to be able to move without pain in my knees.  This is a regimen I’ve kept up for the inflammation in my knees since before my surgery, which happened almost a year ago now.  The knees aren’t perfect, that right one still won’t let me climb stairs without a good hand-rail to hold onto, but something I’ve noticed in the last month is that I am not as regularly taking the ibuprofen.  First, it was just a dose in the morning, and a dose at bedtime.  But I haven’t taken the morning dose in three weeks or more, and only an occasional dose during the day but that is usually for a headache.  The night dose still happens, but that’s because I’m taking it to help with sleep (it’s the PM variety).

Today, as I shoveled, I could feel the pull of muscles and the strain of tendons, but finally, no more shoulder pain in the joint or around the bone.  None.  For the first time in the three years since Dr. Williams botched surgery and your repair, that shoulder finally feels like it should.  And my knees?  Despite spending most of the day outside in the snow, or sloshing through mush to go to the store or elsewhere, my knees have not complained at all.  I have not felt compelled to take my ibuprofen, not felt the knee give or feel like it wanted to give despite the fact that I was walking on uneven terrain, with snow that was like walking on sand and making my steps unsteady.  Even tonight, after another day of in and out and more snow removal, I feel fine.

I could not have said this even three months ago when we got our first big snow.  And yes, sometimes, if I am not being careful with that right knee, I’ll get that tendon twanging over that ridiculously big spur on the back of my knee, but I know how to rotate my knee enough to slip it back into place, so it stops hurting almost immediately.

I know I promised not to learn to ski until at least two years after my first surgery.  I had my doubts I’d ever be able to learn to ski with the knee the way it is.  But you know what?  I actually think I might be able to do it at some point.  Two years will be this October.  And that’s right about when the ski slopes start opening up here.  After all, I live in the one place in our country where snow is highly celebrated, and skiing is a huge part of our local economy.  I should feed that beast, right?

After all, I didn’t spend all this effort fixing my knees so I could keep sitting in a chair.

So thank you, Dr. Schwarze, for fixing my knees.  And for fixing my shoulder.  I feel great!

Sincerely,

Your Problem Patient Susabelle

Work has been nothing but a run-full-tilt adventure the last two weeks.  This is typical for the start of the semester, when all of the students who didn’t plan ahead are now in panic mode trying to get their materials for classes.  I do the best I can; I have a great staff, we are methodical but speedy, and all of the work will eventually get done.

And right in the middle of this, my boss needed to give me my half-yearly review.  I actually don’t mind this process, and in fact prefer that the review be visited throughout the year, so that I don’t lose sight of the goals.  In a job as busy as mine, it is easy to get buried in the trenches of the everyday and forget that I had a few goals that were above and beyond the everyday grind.  So we met this afternoon, both of us just about out of authorized work hours for the week (that’s University-speak for “we don’t pay overtime), snow flurries flying madly outside the window, a lab full of students and staff right around the corner from us.  Somehow, however, despite her ADD-ness and my let’s-hurry-up-and-get-this-over-withness, we did manage to get through what we needed to get through.  And you know what?   Out of the three goals we set in October, I’ve already met two completely plus some, and the third is half-way to complete.  Not bad for walking into a job that was in many ways different than my old job, and into a brand new life that has brought its own stresses.  So I walked out knowing I was meeting goals and then some, and that I was on track for my first year.  It is always a good feeling to know you are meeting expectations at a minimum.  That is, to know it for sure.

The last week or so as I’ve been driving to work, I have seen plenty of new calves in the fields.  Yes, I take the long, scenic route to work (it’s my form of stress relief) and I pretty much know where all the cows and horses are.  I’ve been driving by two pregnant mares in a small pen near a house, and I keep watching anxiously to see the colts when they come.  It never occurred to me that it was calving time.  In fact, I always thought that happened later in the spring.  I guess I was wrong!  I’ve seen some very newborn ones, and some a few days old.  Today I saw one running, its legs all stiff and still trying to figure out how to get all four legs going in some sort of rhythm. I live in a rural area; despite the fact that I’m only a few miles from civilization (Boulder), it is still very much rural, and this is good for me.  It is good for my heart.

Behind theses fields are the backdrop of my mountains.  Yes, mine.  I love them the most, more than any other person loves them.  And even if I don’t, I want to believe that I do, because, well, just because.  This morning we had a mix of sun and clouds, as there was heavy snow in the high country.  The morning sun, pink and orange, was rising behind me, shining onto the mountains.  I made a turn to head west on one of those country roads I’m fond of, and could see the giant slab of mesa that sticks out above Lyons, a few miles from where I live and work.  I never realized that I could see it from where I was, and that was probably because it blended in with the landscape.  But this morning, it was completely highlighted by the sun, while everything else is in the shade.  When you drive into Lyons, it’s this huge proboscis looming over the town.  And slightly to the south, the Flatirons were in the sun, looking pink, while their tops were shrouded in snow and fog and clouds.  Incredible.

So, though my days are full of stress with work and worry about what’s going to happen with the duplex and whether or not we can find a suitable (and long-term) place to live without too much bother later this spring, I have this infinite beauty and new life around me.  I can’t help but to win, right?

Oh, and the property manager sent over her fix-it man, who fixed the toilet, the dishwasher, AND the garage door that does not want to close when the button is pushed.  That’s something, right?

Right.  Happy weekend!

So recently I wrote an email to the property manager, informing her that we had had our house phone disconnected due to the dearth of calls from companies wanting to help us “save our house,” and that we had also gotten local Colorado cell numbers.  I gave her my new number.  Then I informed her that the downstairs toilet was running, and that the dishwasher was no longer getting dishes clean.

Her response was first, “how did those people get your phone number” and then “I’ll send the handyman over to fix the toilet on Wednesday,” and asking how long the toilet had been running (they pay the water bill here, I do not).  There was no mention of the dishwasher.

I was in a mood, so I wrote her back, reminding her that the house and its address was listed on every foreclosure site in the state, and that we were getting stacks of mailings from banks, the Boulder County Courts, and real estate agents, all regarding the foreclosure. I also told her that our phone number was listed, so it wasn’t all that hard to do a reverse lookup and get the number. I told her this was one of the more annoying experiences of my lifetime.  I also told her that I didn’t know how long the toilet had been running, that because the basement is pretty much unlivable in the wintertime that I am usually not down there except to do laundry, and happened to notice the running toilet.  I mentioned the dishwasher again.

Her response was:

“The restructuring of the mortgage is on tract. This is not our choice, it is Colo law procedure. :(. I have not ever heard of the dwn stairs being unliveable?? Can your husband not repair the running toilet? Per the lease agreement, tenants will be responsible for repairs $45 or less.”

If you’re guessing by this point that I’m seeing red, you’re right.  “This is not our choice.”  Really?  You didn’t pay the mortgage for at least six months, maybe more, but everything we are going through is “not their choice?”  This is wrong on so many levels it defies reason.  Just once, I’d like to see SOMEONE stand up and take some responsibility, admit their mistakes, and promise to do better.  All I’ve heard through this entire process is excuses and more excuses.  That it is the “economy,” it is whatever.  Well, I’ve paid my rent on time every single month I’ve been here.  So have the neighbors in the other side of the duplex.  We have paid our rent, which is collectively almost TWICE the mortgage payment.  I did my part.

Furthermore, what stake do I have in fixing the running toilet?  I do not pay the water bills.  I couldn’t give a rats butt right now about the running toilet.  I have no desire to fix it (although I could and it would be pretty simple as I’ve done this kind of thing before).  What possible incentive do I have to fix it?  I only told her about it because I thought she might want to have it fixed, since the extra use of water is probably showing on the bill.

And as for the downstairs being unlivable, she is already aware of this problem, and we have had email conversations about the issue with lack of heat and lack of electrical outlets in living spaces.  I have the emails that she sent me regarding the issues and how they were not going to fix them.  In fact, her argument about why they were not going to fix the problems in the basement was that the house had been approved for Section 8, and that meant there was nothing to fix.  She also suggested we purchase and plug in a space heater in that large room to make it usable.  She forgets there are no electrical outlets in which to plug in such a device.

According to Longmont City Occupancy Codes, which I have a complete copy of, the downstairs room with no heat and no egress window is not a livable space.  Neither is my daughter’s bedroom, which has heat and electric, but an improper egress window (needs a ladder and needs to be twice as big as it is).   To make matters worse, the other half of the duplex has heat and electric in the large “family room” and also has ladders and the appropriate size windows for egress from the basement should there be a fire.  And those tenants pay $100 less a month than we do.

Oh, and again, she failed to make any mention of the non-working dishwasher.

I really hate being lied to.  Especially in this big of a way.  When I signed my lease in June, and paid a quite handsome sum of money in rent and deposit, the owner was already not paying the mortgage.  That whole “approved for Section 8″ thing she used as an argument to not fixing the big issues with the finished basement?  Also a lie.  Then there was the whole “lie of omission” that occurred when we had to find out about the foreclosure by being served with foreclosure papers in November, four months after we signed our lease.

We are starting to look for another house.  We have time; the foreclosure sale is not until March 14th, and federal law says that even if the foreclosure goes forward, that we have 90 days after the foreclosure before we must leave the premises.  And if a refinancing is completed in time, and the house is saved from foreclosure, then I’m still obligated to the lease until end of June.  And if I find the perfect house and we’ve managed to save up the money to move, then I will be using my trump card to get the lease broken.  That trump card is a phone call to the City of Longmont Occupancy and Code Inspection office.  I’m sure they’d love to take a look around this place.

I have waited to blog on this until I was pretty sure the issue had died a horrible death in the U.S. House of Reps and U.S. Senate.  Today was that day.

While I’d like to say “good riddance,” I do know we need to stay vigilant for future bills of this type that might try to make their way through congress, or worse yet, the same bill in a regurgitated form.

Unless you’re completely tech- and Internet-savvy, you may not even know what the impact of these two potential laws might have (and could possibly) been.  Basically, what both bills were doing was giving the Federal government broad powers to shut down or remove websites that were accused of copyright infringement.  What’s that you say?  The Federal government can already do that?

No, they can’t.  They have to have a clear paper trail (or e-trail in this case), show that the website owner is willfully sharing copyrighted materials without permission, given them warning to stop their illegal activities, and THEN shut them down. The new laws (which are effectively dead in congress now) would have given the Federal government the right to shut down a website just because someone said there was copyright infringement.  No proof required, no legal steps need to be taken, no due diligence required in investigation, no due process of law.  Just shut it down, just like that.

You might wonder what lobbyists dreamed up this bill and who such a bill would benefit.  That answer would be the MPAA and the RIAA, the Hollywood entities that control movies and music distribution in our country.  Their intent is to shut down sources of pirated content, and to make it easier to do so.  The problem with this is that such actions throw out the baby with the bathwater.  Are there pirates out there that shouldn’t be doing what they are doing?  Absolutely.  Is it a widespread problem?  That is debatable.  Piracy is bad, I get it and I believe it.  But giving these two self-serving institutions (they are NOT government agencies) the right and the power to control what government does is not the answer.

The real issue for many of the tech-savvy is that giving the government such broad-based power, with such lack of oversight, is a recipe for disaster.  While the bill’s intent, admittedly, is to shut down the biggest and baddest of the piracy websites, its unintended consequence will be to make it easy as a sneeze to shut down any website without cause or due process.  This means that any site hosting videos or music, of any kind, legal or not, would face the very real possibility of being shut down on a whim.

When was “innocent until proven guilty” become abolished in this country?  I thought it was still part of our justice code, but perhaps I’m wrong.

This geek-mom-blogger is happy that SOPA and PIPA have been withdrawn or at least dredged through enough mud that they will not be debated in the near term.  We are safe, for another year.  It’s hard to say what will happen next year, when it is an election year.

I’m going to run away and be a hermit.

My latest experiment in household stupidity was realizing that the paper towel roll was empty on Thursday.  I did not use the last one, but someone else did, and that someone else was likely an adult and (presumably) contributing member of the household.  The spare paper towels are about 10 feet away, outside in the garage, and can be reached by opening the door.  You don’t even have to go into the garage or up or down any steps.  They are RIGHT THERE BY THE DOOR easy to reach. Today is Sunday.  I finally walked over to the garage door, opened it, grabbed a roll of paper towels, and put it on the roller, all while my eggs were cooking in the skillet for breakfast.  If it took me 30 seconds, I’d be surprised.

So the question is, who used the last paper towel and didn’t bother to go get a new one to put up in its place?

The same question could be asked of the toilet paper (and you don’t even have to GET UP to get toilet paper, it’s right there on the back of the sink, with more in the closet right outside the bathroom, some monumental THREE FEET AWAY).  The same could be said of the last packet of sweetener, the last of the shampoo in the shower, the last napkin on the table, the last of the milk in the gallon, and on and on and on.  Then there’s the laundry basket that belongs in the bathroom that somehow gets carried upstairs but never quite makes it into the bathroom, so someone (not me) starts throwing their clothes on the floor in the bathroom instead of walking out to get the laundry basket that is no more than 15 feet from the bathroom.  And who keeps taking the hand towel off the bathroom rack, throwing it in the dirty clothes, but not replacing it with a clean towel?  Here I am standing here with dripping hands and NO TOWEL and I didn’t take it down.  Even if I HAD taken it down I’d have reached into the closet and gotten a new one and put it up.  And would it really kill anyone to pick up their empty sweetener packets, dirty napkins/kleenex, the wrapper from the bag of popcorn or slice of cheese and throw them in the trash can that is literally ONE STEP AWAY?  And those dirty socks you took off while you were sitting in your chair.  Two days later they are still laying there, in the living room, for everyone to see (and smell).  No wonder the house stinks.  I can’t even get anyone to take out the trash; the closest it comes is the bag gets tied up and set in my office, which is also the way out of the back of the house.  A short short walk outside will take you right to the trash can where these things should be ending up in the first place.  Then there are the coats and jackets.  Two or three adorn the back of the sofa at all times, and at least one chair in the dining room will also contain a coat or a jacket.  The scary thing is, you have to walk RIGHT BY THE CLOSET on your way in the house.  You PASS BY THE CLOSET in order to throw your coat on the sofa or a dining room chair.  Really?

I spend half of my time at home replenishing, refilling, putting away, throwing away, picking up, and nagging others about regular chores that should just be a matter of routine.

And if I ask who did it, I get a whole string of “not me’s,” or worse yet, “I was going to do it later.”  Later?  LIKE THREE DAYS LATER??

Really, is it that hard for someone else to do a few things around here to pick up behind themselves?  I’m not the only one who uses paper towels, toilet paper, shampoo, sweetener, has dirty clothes, and eats or drinks.  But my recyclables always go in the recycle bin (it’s in the kitchen so it’s pretty convenient), my dirty dishes manage to make their way within the same hour of use from my office to the kitchen (or from the table next to my chair to the kitchen), and my socks and other dirty clothing make it into the laundry basket.  Even better, my dishes actually make it into the dishwasher, and I strive not to use dishes that have to be hand-washed so they don’t have to sit.

I’m tired of picking up behind grown people who should know better, who DO know better.  My just leaving it sit hasn’t taught anyone anything, it just means that eventually I get too annoyed and go take care of it myself (like the paper towels and the toilet paper).  I work full time and have an at least 90 minute commute every day for work.  Klown works full time but has a five minute commute.  The Perfect Child works full but she rides with me most of the time.  There is no excuse for anyone in this house not picking up behind themselves.  It is getting really old to keep having to do the same things over and over and over again, and to nag about the same things over and over again.  I may not be perfect, but I do pick up behind myself and I don’t leave messes for others to pick up.  My wet towels do not end up on the floor or stuffed into the laundry basket where they can turn into piles of mildew.

A bit less of that from the other adults in my house would be awfully nice.

I swear, sometimes I just don’t get it.  I’ve had my share of cranky neighbors over the years.  The last most complained about one was an angry old red-headed hag who didn’t like anyone (that we could tell).  We called her the “Lunch Lady,” until I realized that was an insult to lunch ladies everywhere!

Coming to Colorado, we were going to get new neighbors.  And in the first month, we managed to meet most of them and can talk to them on a first-name basis.  We wave at each other, say hi in the grocery store, sometimes ask for advice.  That’s what a neighborhood should be, in my mind.  Friendly people kind of watching out for each other.

The people in the duplex across from us are a weird lot, I guess.  I’ve waved more than once and all I get in return is a scowl and I swear I hear a growl.  I have NO idea what we did to these people.  They are living in a duplex just like we are, and I’m sure they’ve seen some neighbors come and go along the way.  But still.  What the heck did we do?  I’d love to go over there and ask just what their problem is, but I’d probably just get another scowl.  As my mother likes to say, “you can’t rationalize an irrational person.”  So I suppose I should chalk this up to irrational people and not worry about it.  Especially since we won’t be living here in another six months anyway.

But still.  It’s rather disheartening to be treated with such, er, grumpiness, when we haven’t done anything that we know of to cause the grumpiness in the first place.  We only park on our side of the street, we keep our yard nice, we put up Christmas lights and we’re friendly with all of the other neighbors.  As my daughter would say, “what the heck, man?”

Yeah.  What’s up with that, anyway?  Grumpy McGrumpypants.

I’m not from New Orleans, but this is my best stab at this dish.  The rice can be mixed in, or served western-style like a stew over rice.

1-2 lbs. boneless chicken breasts or tenders, cut into 1″ or larger cubes

1 lb. smoked sausage (like Polish or Polska Kielbasa)

1-2 lbs. raw shrimp

1 green pepper or mix green/red/orange/yellow, chopped

1 medium yellow onion, chopped

1 or 2 stalks celery, chopped

1 can kidney beans

1 28-oz. can diced tomatoes in juice

1 bay leaf

1 tsp. Gumbo File seasoning

1/2 tsp. dried oregano

14 tsp. thyme

salt and pepper

Place chicken, sausage, shrimp, pepper, onion, and kidney beans in crock pot.  Mix together the tomatoes and the spices, pour over meat in crock pot.  Stir together.  Cook on high for approximately 3 hours, or until chicken is just done and tender.  Don’t overcook, the chicken and shrimp will dry out.   Serve over a bed of rice with cornbread on the side, and hot sauce for those that want it.

You can add a cup or two of frozen sliced okra to this dish if you’d like, and you can use Andouille sausage instead of smoked sausage if you want more bite to the dish.

This is warm and filling and full off all kinds of good for the new year!

2-4 pounds chicken legs or thighs, skinned (at least 1 dozen pieces)

3 tablespoons oil

1 can tomato paste

Salt and pepper

1 green pepper, or mix of red/green/yellow pepper, chopped

1 yellow onion, chopped

1 teaspoon garlic (fresh or from a jar, do not use granulated garlic)

1 bay leaf

4 threads saffron (optional but it makes the dish look pretty)

2 Roma tomatoes, chopped

1 cup beer (any brand, but go light, not dark)

1 cup chicken broth

1/4 cup white wine (can substitute chicken broth or beer)

1 cup uncooked rice

Heat oil in cast iron skillet until hot, then put in chicken legs.  They will pop and crack quite a bit, so be ready!  Salt and pepper them in the pan.  When brown on one side, turn over, and brown on the other.  This only takes a few minutes.  Do it in batches if it won’t all fit in at once.  Once it is browned, remove to plate.  Smear the top side of each piece of chicken with tomato paste.

Put chopped onions and peppers in the skillet and cook until translucent.  Sprinkle with salt and pepper. Add in all spices, garlic, tomato, beer, broth, and wine.  Stir and bring to a boil.  Add in rice.

Pour rice/broth mixture into a 9 x 13 casserole dish or enameled pot.  A heavy casserole is best for this dish (I use a glass dish that is 9 x 13).  Place chicken on top of the rice/broth mixture, tomato-paste-side up.

Cover tightly and bake in a 350-degree oven for 90 minutes, or until rice and chicken are done.

High altitude adjustment:  Increase liquid by at least 1/2 cup, with either broth or beer.  Make sure casserole stays tightly covered during cooking.  Add moisture if needed at the 60-minute mark.

Note:  Brown rice can be used, but should be par-boiled until al dente before putting in the vegetable/broth mixture and putting it all in the oven.  Brown rice is not traditional with this recipe and will alter the taste considerably.

Resolutions:  I has them.

1. More outdoor time.  Period.  I don’t do it enough, and I live in a place where outdoor time is a given.
2. Find a new house, save up for the deposit, and get moved and settled.  This last six months has not been the greatest with our duplex being foreclosed and our landlord and property manager being less than forthcoming.  Not to mention not wanting to fix anything and us realizing the space is not what we expected or needed.  That, and we’re paying more rent for a smaller space in not great condition, compared to the other half of the duplex.  Feel deceived and taken advantage of.
3. Get my CPrint certification so I can do captioning in classes and other activities.  It pays well and would be a great supplement to what I already do, as well as taking more financial pressure off me.
4. Make more scarves/hats/wrist-warmers, and quilts, aprons, and potato bags.  Prepare for fall craft show season and be ready to sell sell sell!
5. Spend Fourth of July in the mountains.
6. Read more, write more.  Get my blogging back up to speed.

I hope everyone has a wonderful start to the new year.  I’ll be making Jambalaya and crocheting or reading.  It will be a nice quiet Sunday in this house.

With all the Christmas gift-giving past, and people moving back into regular normal life, there comes the inevitable whining from some of our populace about what they didn’t get for Christmas that they asked for.  WARNING: The link contains salty language, don’t go there if you are offended.  I’ll give you a recap of what is posted at the link:

• I didn’t get an iPhone
• I didn’t get an iPad
• I got a car but didn’t get an iPhone
• I didn’t get a car AGAIN for Christmas but I got a MacBook Pro
• I didn’t get a car
• I wanted a WHITE iPhone, not a BLACK iPhone
• I got a stupid Kindle Fire, I wanted an iPad.  I’m going to take the stupid Kindle Fire back and get an iPad

And it went on and on, along with cursing at their mothers (not their fathers), because they didn’t get what they wanted.

I’m Santa in my house, for the most part.  This is my burden to bear because I have the job with the biggest salary and thus the biggest amount of disposable income.  It has always been this way, through both of my marriages.  This year things were a little more even in years past, but in general, Santa is my job, and that’s fine.  I work hard for what I earn, I make sure we have a roof over our heads, medical insurance, car insurance, food in the fridge/pantry, and toilet paper in the bathroom.  It’s my job.  And if my kids get things they need instead of things they want for Christmas, I feel I’m doing the right thing.  That doesn’t mean they don’t get things they want, they do.  Sometimes they get things they didn’t even want.  But having been raised in a fiscally conservative household, and living a fiscally conservative life, I keep the whole Santa expectation at a conservative level.  If my teenager wants a fancy cell phone, or a car, she’s going to pay for it herself, the same way I pay for things that I really want but don’t desperately need.  I learned young how much more I appreciate things I had to pay for.

These kids who are complaining, complete with curse words and the ever-popular “FML” have no idea how good they have it.  They have a house to live in and presumably food to eat and activities to attend and free schooling and probably a cell phone and gaming system and laptop and Internet in their homes.  They are complaining because their parents wouldn’t spring for a $500 iPhone?  Really?

I doubt seriously that my parents went into debt to buy us our Christmas presents every year.  I know for a fact that my father buys almost nothing on credit.  If he doesn’t have cash, it doesn’t get bought.  I’ve lived by this motto myself for about ten years; if I can’t afford to buy it outright then I don’t need it.  Much of our country is struggling because people were living on credit, well outside their means, to get their kids all the “cool” things kids ask for.  To buy them cars and iPhones and computers and designer clothes means going into debt to do so.  At some point, that system of living outside one’s means catches up to you, and that is what has happened.  What HASN’T happened is some frank discussions from these parents to their kids, outlining the reality of the situation, and putting an emphasis of working for what you want and not expecting what you didn’t earn.

My kids are learning these lessons from day one, as much as possible.  They may get some breaks (my daughter is buying her car from her grandmother on ridiculously low payments, and I pay for cell phone service but not phones), but they are learning that Mom and Dad aren’t made of money, and that even if we were, they are still going to get sweaters and socks for Christmas along with a few of the toys and gadgets they want but don’t need.  If more kids were given these expectations, I think our future would look a lot brighter.

And instead of hearing “FML” from these entitled little angels, maybe we’d hear “LML” instead.  It’s sure what I would like to hear!