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Instant Pot, Take One
I'm making my first attempt to cook rice in my Instant Pot. I am completely incapable of making rice that isn't either mush or crunchy, no matter what I do. Here's what I have done so far:
1 c. wild rice
2 c. water
1tsp better than bullion veggie because it sounded good.
1tsp. butter
Put in pot and set to 25 min per https://www.platingsandpairings.com/cook-perfect-rice-instant-pot/.
Prayed Rufus' blessing on my endeavour.
Blogged about it on FJ. Updates to follow.
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Latest Entry
My MIL Is Moving Back to To Our Region
The title explains it all: My MIL is moving back to the region where husband and I live. We are state line to her home state (and mine), so she will be uber close to us. NEITHER of us is excited or looking forward to this B moving back with her mother (who is also not excited).
She's not a job type person, and already told GMIL she cannot get a job because she's unskilled. She's not even 60 yet. The unspoken truth is she is going to wait for her mother to die and leave her the trust fund she's expecting. It feels like a page from a fundie soap opera because I cannot even with the amount of laziness bullshit from her.
I'll have more updates later. She's supposed to be back by October 1st, but we don't know if she's going to cancel and try to "work things out" with her abusive, bipolar, alcoholic husband (for the second or third time).
In case you were wondering, my MIL is nowhere near fundie or even religious.
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Latest Entry
Movement
I don't know what happened but suddenly my depression has disappeared. I'm looking forward to the future.
I have gone as far as starting an exercise program I found on YouTube. It's for people with mobility issues to get them moving forward. I've been able to do the first episode three times. Today I purchased some hand weights designed for walking but they will fit in my hands without exasperating my hand pain.
My t-shirt fit better this morning because I'm already tightening up in my upper body. My pants were too long so I know I'm moving forward. I did need to use my cane when walking to and from the courthouse, but overall I'm feeling stronger. I'm looking forward to doing the program tomorrow.
Goals:
Keep at it.
Find a picture or pictures of bicycles. When I drop some weight I'm buying one! Mobility this winter in SoCal will be so much easier.
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When did Sears start selling sex dolls??? ;)
I'm old, so I apologize for using a blog for this because I can't find the jibber-jabber place to post random things like this.
You know where the ads are on FJ, right? We all do, and 9 times outta 10 I couldn't tell you what the ad was for because I just ignore them. But Sears, somehow, popped up with an ad for power tools. Lots of power tools and tool boxes. And a Windola (maybe not exactly a Windola, but I'm close). After clicking on her and finding out you can do so many different things with her I decided I'd lingered long enough on the ad. Gods know what's going to show up on the ad space NOW since I showed an interest in a poseable life-size barbie doll.
Has anyone else been blessed with this abomination or is it just me?!
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Latest Entry
Oops
I'm sorry that I've not come back with this blog and tips and tricks!
I took a vacation - the first vacation I'd taken in 8 years! - to Seattle in March, where I got to finally meet my best friend in person, and we got to go see Hamilton on tour! Then I fell into a Stardew Valley on the Switch rabbit hole, and I was a bridesmaid in a wedding, and then... well. Work. Lots of work, lots of turn around. And Cubs games on TV to watch, and my boys in pinstripes kind of take precendence since I get to watch so few games because of work and refusing to shell out $90 a year for MLB.tv.
I might change my focus of this blog (because I have a fafillionty Stardew screencaps!), but I'll try to still put some makeup stuff in here too.- Read more...
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The Random Nature of Life (and Death)
My grandmother was born in 1898 and died at the age of 102 in 2001, thus living a life touching three centuries. At the time of her death she was of diminished stature and eyesight but was otherwise ‘healthy’. She had never contracted polio, as my grandfather had, and she was never stricken with cancer or heart disease, or any other ailment. She simply died of old age as her body just could not sustain life anymore.
My grandmother lived most of her life in England, moving to Canada when she was eighty. She survived two world wars, and was not among the millions of people who perished in the bombings or in concentration camps.
Grandma was not in Manchester in 1996, nor was she on Pan Am Flight 103 over Lockerbie.
She was not visiting the World Trade Centre or the Pentagon in 2001. She was not on a flight that day destined for a quiet field in Pennsylvania.
She was not on a train in beautiful Madrid in 2004, nor was she strolling along the Promenade des Anglais in Nice in 2016. She adored visiting Paris, but was not there in November of 2015. My grandmother was not enjoying a summer afternoon on La Rambla in Barcelona last year. She was also not crossing London Bridge in the city she loved so much.
My grandmother would likely never have gone to the Pulse nightclub in Orlando and, similarly, would not have enjoyed a wonderful country festival in Las Vegas. Grandma was not in Oklahoma City or San Bernadino, nor was she teaching innocent children in Dublane, Scotland or Sandy Hook, Connecticut, or Parkland, Florida.
My grandmother was also not walking on Yonge Street in Toronto yesterday.
In over a hundred years she was never in the wrong place at the wrong time. Not once. But so, so many other people were. They left home one day and never returned. None will live to the age my grandmother did. They have all had their futures stolen from them and their families have been forever destroyed. Simply because they were in those places at the worst possible moment. In many of those instances, a few short minutes was the difference between life and death.
I’m glad my grandmother was not alive to witness 9/11 and the continuous horrors exacted across the globe in the subsequent years. I sometimes imagine that human beings are an experiment; one that will prove to be a complete and utter failure. It seems we will never cease finding ways to kill each other.
Yes, my grandmother was lucky. As am I as I write this post. And all of you, my lovely FJ friends, are, too. I hope we will all be as fortunate as my grandmother.
Because it is all just so fucking random.
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Latest Entry
Part 2
Despite keeping Jill away from David as much as possible when Steve and Steve 2 were at work, she still liked-liked him more. Steve was too boring and the other Steve was too angry for her tastes.
David and Mrs David - not Ms. thank you very much! - got married in a Godly church, and are currently waiting for God to bring them their first child. In the meantime, David is spending his days fishing in Gods green gloryness, and Mrs David is spending her time singing Godly tunes to praise Him. She hopes that God will provide a guitar and piano, though she wonders how a piano will fit in the RV since there is barely enough room for the crib. Darn Sims baby is required to sleep in a crib even though their bedroom with attached private bathroom has more than enough room for a cage.
(I'm not sure if I'm going to continue this. I was playing it with the hopes she would end up with someone else, so the gameplay would be more interesting and less... real.)
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Pray For Me, Y'all!
I'm jumping ahead a bit in time here, but hopefully, I'll be able to do some catch-up posts in the next couple of days. Anyway, the Lord has decided to bless the O'Hurleys with twins. In addition to the two toddlers already in the house. Thankfully, Matthew is only one day away from aging up. I caved and used the free real estate cheat to buy them a nice big house in Brindleton Bay. Now, I'm off to look into the MC Commander mod since we've almost got a full house already!
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Latest Entry
We Are Back. Again. Part I: Ranfords
Christmas is over, New Year is gone, I'm out of excuses. Back to weekly posting plan.
And, so, what's going on in Ranford household?To be honest, not much. Life continued in familiar, chaotic misery.
Viola started a new parenting strategy. You put a crying baby on floor and lecture it. Very fundie-like, and very unproductive.
She decided to share this wisdom to the world with her first book. Basically, it’s a collection of her blog posts, but readers now must pay money for it.
Smart life choices!Reed is a bit of a bully towards Huckleberry. He gets along with twins and doesn't care about quads yet, but every time he sees Huck with a toy, he takes it away.
Zachary and Viola would encourage Huck to give Reed his favorite childhood position, but, unfortunately, Huckleberry doesn't have anything that belongs just to him.But Reed has a good side, too. He catches more fishes in one day than Zachary has managed to catch in his entire life.
The fishes Reed provides is the main food source for entire family now.
And he remembers to pick up all the old bottles from kitchen floor. And, trust me, there are lot of bottles.
#StoryTime: During one night a total stranger entered a house!!! Viola was busy potty training Huckleberry and didn't notice until it was too late!
The ungodly stranger turned out to be a hobby instructor! They are almost as bad as social workers, running around and telling kids that it's ok to enjoy something!!
(Apparently, Forest likes this one particular toy so much he has gained enough enthusiasm to be in zone. And he is only toddler. I'll take it as a sign.)And, yes, no pregnancy announcement from Ranfords... Have Lord closed Viola's womb? Without giving her a precious little baby girl? Or is this just temporally hardship that will be overcome with combination of praying and sweet fellowshiping? Viola sure hopes so.
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Latest Entry
Anyone want a toddler
Currently trying to find what gets vaseline out of a toddlers hair my toddler joy got into the vaseline and I'm wondering how the heck im going to get this out of her hair. How many washes will this take to come clean this is gonna be a long night
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Salvadoran Turkey Recipe
Hey everyone! In advance of Thanksgiving, I thought I'd share a family turkey recipe! Fair warning, this takes FOREVER to cook. I do it in advance of the big day. Enjoy.
Sauce: Enough for or a 15 pound turkey or smaller
Ingredients:
Relajo (spice mix).. you can find this at some Mexican grocery stores in a little baggie or make your own
---chile ciruela
---chile wake
---ajonjoli
---pepitoria
---laurel
---ajo
3 chopped onions
2 Red bell peppers chopped
1/2 small can tomato paste
12 peeled tomatoes (from a can, buy two large cans and use 12, plus juice)
2 cartons Chicken stock
Directions:
Toast the relajo on a frying pan until its fragrant
Cook the onions until transluesent, add bell peppers and relajo
Add tomatoes and tomato juice
Cook low and bubbly for 30 min
Blend the sauce as fine as possible (you can use regular blender, but let it cool before blending, or immersion blender)
Add half carton of chicken stock and cook for 20 min
Get another pot. Place a fine strainer over the empty pot, and slowly strain the sauce into the pot using a spoon to push the sauce against the strainer and squeeze as much juice out as possible. This juice should be thin and red. Place the pulp into a bowl and repeat until all the thick blended sauce is strained.
Now take the pulp and put it back in the original pot, adding another half carton of stock. Cook for 20 min.
Repeat the straining. Cook one more time with more broth. Strain again. (so three rounds of cooking and straining)
You can throw away the pulp, and what you have left in the pot is your sauce! Season to taste. If its too sour, mix in some brown sugar
For the turkey:
Ingredients:
· Butter
· Mustard
· Worcestershire sauce
· 1/2 cup white wine
· Stuffed spanish olives
· Capers
· Salt
· Pepper
· Paprika
Directions:
The night before, poke the turkey with a fork. Rub the butter, mustard, and worcestershire sauce all over the turkey and get inside the skin
Put the turkey in a pan with the sauce, olives and capers drained, white wine, paprika and cook in oven.
Make sure you baste often it while its cooking
The sauce gets its final flavor from the turkey. After cooking with the turkey, it can be frozen used as sauce on other things. Also, a good Salvadoran post-thanksgiving meal is pan con pavo/ pan con chumpe, which is a turkey sandwich with the sauce, radishes, and cucumbers. Use a crusty bread.
Sauce can be made a week in advance, and keep in Tupperware in the fridge. Or freeze if holding for longer.
Throwback to last year's stuffing recipe:
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The One in Which Aunt PJ Fakes it 'Til She Makes It
If you’ve read my posts on FJ for a while, you’ve probably heard me mention that I have scoliosis. I underwent a spinal fusion when I was fourteen, and I’ve had a fourteen-inch titanium rod with screws and hooks holding it into place against my spinal column. As you can imagine, this sometimes gets uncomfortable.
SpoilerNow, from what we can tell now, I inherited the gene from my mother’s side of the family—because guess who also has scoliosis? That’s right, everybody’s favorite, Aunt PJ. To be clear, the difference between my scoliosis (and subsequent surgery) and Aunt PJ’s scoliosis is something like this:
Necessary disclaimer: I don’t doubt that Aunt PJ’s scoliosis causes her discomfort—I’m sure it does. But, as you can see, it’s akin to comparing a deep paper cut with someone who just cut their finger off in a cigar cutter. I can't tell you what I wouldn't give for a ten percent curve, even after my surgery. That doesn’t stop Aunt PJ, though, and she wants you to know she’s in horrific. pain. every. day. Of course she does.
SpoilerGiven that we have the same diagnosis, it should come as a shock that when I had my surgery (and subsequent lengthy hospital stay and recovery time), Aunt PJ didn’t reach out to me once, either through card or phone call. But that’s Aunt PJ for you—if it’s not about her, it’s not important.
SpoilerAfter the death of my grandmother, my mother moved back to her home state and moved into the family home to help settle the estate. As I’ve mentioned previously, Aunt PJ also lived there with two of her three children. This was also my first year in college, and I couldn’t come home from school to visit my mother. Why, do you ask? Because there wasn’t a decent bed available to me to sleep in, a requirement in my life post- surgery. That’s right, a woman with scoliosis wanted me to just sleep on a cot. I ended up not visiting my mother for a year, until she moved. Four beds in the house and no one could give one up for a couple of nights so I could sleep and still walk in the morning.
SpoilerOver the years, Aunt PJ’s scoliosis has supposedly gotten worse. She posts frequently about her pain and discomfort on Facebook and in person, eliciting sympathy from kinder-hearted folk than me. She now visits a chiropractor and refuses to sit on soft seating such as sofas and armchairs. Several times, Aunt PJ sat on a dining room chair and explained to me that her scoliosis kept her from sitting on the couch…while I was sitting on the couch. Trust me, Aunt PJ, if my twisty straw of a back can handle it, so can yours.
SpoilerSo each and every visit I have with her, I get to hear about her wretched, pain-filled life (in which she is healthy enough to travel long distances, sit and stand for extended lengths of time, and participate in physical activities like yoga and going to the gym--you know, stuff that is difficult for me to do). And does she ever ask me how I’m managing? Yeah, you have two guesses and the first one doesn’t count.
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This Fucking Summer
This fucking summer. This fucking year, really. So. My marriage, which limped along while I was super depressed because I just didn't care, is really rocky right now. I'm not sure he knows that it's total shit- I think he thinks everything is great. I mean, I finally stopped nagging him. I'm just really quiet all the time. I never ask him to do anything around the house anymore and just do it all myself. Because I'm fucking tired of having to tell a grown man, over and over and over again, that he needs to put effort into his own life outside of work. For the first time in a long time I'm thinking about the future and I'm just exhausted by the thought of however many more decades with him. I get one life and I'm not sure I want to spend it as someone's damn live-in help- there is no mystical property of a penis that prevents the owner of said genitals from cleaning the shower once in a fucking while, without being reminded six times, and without whining about it.
It all came to a head when one of his friends (who, silly me, I thought was my friend too- hahaha, no) told him that he's avoiding me on purpose (we're next door neighbors, it was getting pretty weirdly obvious) because he's got some Mike Pence flavored asshole ideas about the world. Well, the dude didn't acknowledge his own Mike Penceness, just said that he won't be alone with his friends' wives*. Like, what the fuck, dude, I'm a PERSON. I'm a PERSON. I don't BELONG to my husband, and I don't just drop my fucking pants every time I'm alone in a room with someone! As a matter of fact, the vast majority of times I have ever been alone with another human being, I was wearing my pants the whole time. The whole time!
*I'll note that this rule was clearly not in existence last year, before I lost 50 pounds.
Believe it or not I swallowed my rage (it took some serious swallowing) and did not make him eat his own mailbox. See? Agency. Choices. Not ruled by my emotions/gonads/instincts. Almost like I'm people or something.
Like, holy shit guys, I'm being treated like I'm an appliance with tits by basically all sides these days. This sucks and MANY things officially tasted better than thin feels.
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The Freedom of Saying Goodbye
I feel the need to get this off my chest, even if nobody really reads this.
Yesterday marked the end of a chapter of my life that was open for 16 years - since I was 16 myself.When I was 16 I met someone online. We were the same age (or so I thought - years later she admitted she was actually 6 years older than me) and had similar interests and immediately clicked as friends. In fact, it turned into more than friendship and we started a long-distance relationship. I was infatuated, in love as only a 16-year-old could be.
I vividly remember our first fight. It was around the time of my 17th birthday. We had a mutual friend who was interested in a site called Furcadia. She'd invited us both to play with her but my girlfriend wasn't interested. I decided to give it a try, though. When she found out I'd been hanging out there with our friend she was furious. I was taken aback, but I placated her and it was over.Thus began my dealings with a person suffering from psychiatrist-diagnosed Narcissistic Personality Disorder. In the early years she broke up with me several time. Each time I was sobbing and heart broken. Each time I was told to get over it. At one stage I moved across the country to live with her. I had no car and no way of catching public transport so she promised to drive me around. Three days before my flight she dumped me. When I moved there, she refused to drive me around. My parents had to buy me a car and drive it cross country. Two months later she decided she didn't want to live there any more and broke the lease to move back home. I had to do the same.
She told me to move on because we were never getting back together. Eventually, I did.I kept it from her, knowing that in spite of her telling me to move on she would be furious. I didn't lie about it, I just never mentioned it. I didn't really try to hide it. Enevitably she found out and the fallout was phenomenal. Eventually, we began talking again. She wanted to resume our relationship after mine ended, but after she had stranded me across the country without so much as a single apology for her actions I'd seen her true colours and could never feel the same about her. I was willing to be friends, but any love I'd felt had been crushed by the hurt I felt.
Despite not being in a relationship, she rewrote the history of mine. She accused me of being with him while I was still with her. She claimed that she'd never said to get over her and that she'd been trying to get back together with me while I was with him. None of that was true. After telling me so many times I had to get over things she'd done in the past, she never let go of my 'betrayal'.Once I found out about the NPD I began to learn how to avoid the arguments and brush off the constant criticism. I was a bad friend, I made her wait too long when we talked online, my illness got in the way all the time, she made all the time in the world for me but I wasn't reciprocating. Somehow, amidst the constant barrage of criticism she kept hinting at us getting back together, but she wanted me to be the one to make the move.
That's when I realised - she didn't love me. I was her backup plan. When she had a better prospect she was happy to let me go, but when there was nobody else she wanted me. She took for granted that I'd wait around for her and ask to get back together and be grateful for the opportunity.
She was wrong.A couple of years ago, I met someone new. Somebody whose love didn't come at the cost of my self worth. Someone who didn't complain about making endless sacrifices for me and ignore the sacrifices I made from then. In fact, I didn't need to make sacrifices for him at all.
It was a love different to any I've felt before, and the first time we met up I realised I couldn't imagine my life without him. Earlier this year, we got married and it was the best thing I've ever done. Naturally, I did not tell her.
I told him everything about her - how our relationship had started, the ways it had ended, and our continuing 'friendship'. I told him that she viewed us as being in a relationship even though I hadn't agreed to one. I was completely honest, and he was completely supportive. He encouraged me to disconnect with her, made me finally believe I didn't deserve the constant criticism, that even though I'd learned to deal with her and didn't rise to the bait it still negatively affected me. He didn't push. He just let me do it at my own pace.
Yesterday, I finally disconnected for good.
It was over something relatively minor in the scheme of our rocky relationship. I was going through something difficult and she was angry with me for being distracted by it because she was having problems too. I told her I was dealing with a potentially terminal illness in my family. Most people would at least offer some perfunctory sympathy. An 'I'm sorry', even if the next word was 'but'. But she didn't. She was just angry I wasn't asking about her issues.
And that's what did it.I told her I had nothing more to say to her, and this time I truly meant it.
I know how different the story would be coming from her. I am a horrible person, a heartbreaker, cold and cruel. I am a cheater and a liar. I am not a saint and I know I've done things out of anger or hurt to lash out at her. I am not blameless. I feel genuinely sorry for what she's going through right now and it's very hard to not tell her so, but I can't get drawn back into contact. My words yesterday confirmed to her every bad thing she's ever thought about me and she will never forgive me. She'll hate me. I needed it to be that way. I wasn't cruel, at least I tried not to be. I wanted to say she was a narcissist and a hypocrite, but I didn't. I didn't get mad. I just said I could no longer be in contact - but that's all it will take. Ending things myself, on my terms - that's an unforgivable sin. I still feel guilty, despite everything. I hate hurting or upsetting anyone.
But at last, I can finally breathe.
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Parties
I went tonight to the Grand Opening of my friend's bar.
It was great. Lots of people, good live music, great food -including a roast suckling pig. I reckon it cost her at least 10,000 baht - about $350. Doesn't sound a lot, but here it is. I live on about 30,000 baht a month.
There were LOTS of people there. Some were fellow bar owners, there to wish her luck - they won't be back, they have their own bars to run. Some were friends and family, who don't usually go to bars - but came to show support.
Many were what we call balloon chasers - when a bar is having a party, and giving away free food, they put balloons outside. Some people go from balloon to balloon, to avoid paying for food. I saw some come in, eat, have a glass of water or a small beer, and leave. One table had three different groups in less than 90 minutes.
And then there were some who are and will be customers. I''m just not sure there were enough of them. Out of maybe 150 people all night - I was there from shortly after it started at 7pm until nearly midnight - there were maybe 20 to 30 who will be regular customers - and they won't be there every day.
I'm her friend, and was there with some of her relatives. We'll probably go as a group about once a week. I'll go another night with other friends.
I'm just not sure it's enough to sustain her business. She has three employees, whose wages must add up to at least 40,000 baht a month. Tonight, she had four extras, because she knew it would be super busy.
I really want it to work for her, but the freeloaders tonight upset me.
So I'm feeling a bit down.
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My Premie baby birth story
From the beginning of my pregnancy I wanted a home birth in water. I knew my son was going to be my last child, and I truly wanted that experience. Until I hit 34 weeks. March 23rd I called my primary physician & told her something didn't feel right. I had a ton of pain in my abdomen and my baby wasn't moving much. She referred me to the only OB practice in the area that takes my insurance & they basically told me "pregnancy sucks, you're fine, get over it." The weekend passes and I feel him moving less and less, but I was starting to get labor pains. I called the hospital near me & they told me 34 weeks was too early and despite my concerns, they would stop my labor and send me home.
Monday the 27th I was in labor and worried about my son. My mom took me to a different hospital to get a second opinion. They did an ultrasound and hooked myself and my son to the monitors, the on call OB determined he needed to come out because his placenta had begun to die, and he wasn't getting enough nutrients, something the OB I was referred to could've caught if they had listened to my concerns instead of brushing me off. I starten on pitocin and walked & bounced on the birth ball.
6 AM on March 28th I begged for an epidural. My first birth had been 12 hours of labor, 20 minutes of pushing, and medication free. I had wanted to do that again, but at this point after laboring 48+ hours on my own, my body was worn out. I was shaking uncontrolably and crying. After they placed it, my water broke and I knew things were going to go quickly from there. I texted my husband telling him the baby was coming within the next few hours & to try and make it. I napped off and on thanks to the epidural until I felt intense pressure and realized it was time to push.
After two pushes and 5 minutes, Woodrow-James Digger Godwin made his way into this world at 11:43 AM. He weighed 5lb10Oz & was 18.5 inches long. He was placed on my chest for a moment, and then once we realized he was wheezing and struggling to breathe, he was whisked off to NICU. My mom followed him while the nurses stitched me up. I texted my husband again "baby is here but he's in NICU"
It was 4 days before I could hold him & 7 before he came home.
He's now 5 weeks old & finally putting on weight and has adapted to life outside the womb very well.
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Anchor bolts are the language of love....
Until recently, I foolishly assumed that since the laundry area shelves and brackets were 1.5 inch thick solid wood, that they had been properly anchored to the wall by the previous owners.
Long story short, they weren't!
They are now, and I'm extremely grateful that no one was hurt when one of the brackets holding up a fully loaded shelf pulled itself out of the wall.
Everyone, please check to make sure your shelves are secure!
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I Went to Sight & Sound so You Don't Have To
This post is brought to you by the amazing homemade ice cream at Good N Plenty and dedicated to @Mela99 .
This does not make up for my bitterness about not going to Shady Maple.Today was........something. I'm remembering why I don't sign up for church-related things anymore. As a child, I always wanted to see a show there and I figured you're never too old for cute goats. I was slightly confused when I found out we would be seeing a production of Jonah but it ranks pretty low on the "potentially problematic" bible stories for me.
BOY WAS I WRONG.
I'll start off by saying the set design for the show was FANTASTIC. I want to hug the entire production team (especially the stage manager calling all those cues!) and feed them the baked good of their choice. The music is sung live over a pre-recorded instrumental track so there were a few timing issues but nothing that made the show unbearable.
I'm lying, there's one song where the harmonies are really grating.
Anyway, I'm sitting semi-enjoying the show, smelling too many roasted almonds, and crying over the worst $3 cup of watery iced coffee for all of act one. I shoot off a few texts to family members who I thnk would enjoy the show and settle in for act two. Now they open the show by explaining that they take some creative license with the storyline, biblical purists need not apply. Cool. I was not prepared for what was coming next.
(White) Jonah is projected out of the whale and onto.....an island full of brown natives. These are nice natives (they give him a donkey and clothes!) but they're definitely presented as an "other". Ok...slightly perturbed but we can still recover.
S/N: Being surrounded by whale stomach acid for 3 days turned Jonah's hair from brown to boyband blonde. Seriously, it's in the script.
Jonah Timberlake rides up to the gates of the city full of "evil people with no good in their hearts" who live by the motto "For the honor of Ninevah NEVER SHOW MERCY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" full of condensation general disgust. Hmm, I wonder what kind of evil no good people he'll find within the city limits?
Black People.
Brown People.
People in shades darker than "HOA Beige" because of course brown people are ALWAYS THE PROBLEM amen.
The king and queen of Ninevah (and their brown child) are the only major speaking roles portrayed by persons of color in this entire damn show.
I'm pissed. I'm literally shaking.
The Ninevites sing songs that are more gospel than musical theatre. I just shake my head.
Honestly, don't ask me any of the finer plot points of this section because I was about 300% done by then. After Jonah's little vine dies I'm hoping they do an awkward curtain call and call it a day. Of course, you can't end the show on this wonderful (seriously, the moral is prophet or not- don't be an asshole) without having an appearance from the most important figure in American Christianity.
White Jesus™ shows up.
That's right folks! No longer relegated to the much shorter New Testament, White Jesus™ makes an appearance just in time to teach Jonah a lesson and then walk off, hair blowing in the breeze.
If I had been any closer to an exit I would have walked out. They sing one last song in true curtain call form and then White Jesus™ makes another appearance just in time for the final pose. Then they do an abbreviated altar call.
TL;DR White Jesus™ is white and colored folks are evil.
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Truffled Mushroom Melt and a Cute Cat Picture.
I have suddenly become one of those people who constantly takes pictures of their food! I know it's not cool anymore. I feel like my FIL who struts around in a white track suit wearing sunglasses, or with his sweatshirt tucked into his jeans.
I made a mushroom melt on pumpernickel bread with a Greek cheese I can't spell, much less pronounce.
Here is my cute cat picture I promised to show. It's a dirty click bait trick. I know very few FJers can resist cutepet pictures.
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Trynn Cleans Ceiling Fans
I have been rebuked by a fellow FJer for doing the cleaning post wrong. So, here's an attempt at doing it right.
Today was the day of the week where my job makes us clean the ceiling fans. My boss took the initiative, telling me I'd better get off my cell phone and do some actual work if I was interested in getting paid. I purposed in my heart that I would dust the ceiling fans.
While I went to the office to flip the switch that would turn on the fans, I thought about death. Would death be preferable to cleaning ceiling fans? If I fell off the ladder and broke my neck, did I know where I was going? What would happen if I fell of the ladder and broke my ankle? I would just have to trust in the lord that everything would be ok.
I purposed in my heart to be brave, and prayed that God would give me the courage to climb that ladder, for lo, I do not like heights.
I took the long handled dust mop, climbed the ladder, and wiped the blades with the dust mop. Since we clean our ceiling fans for Jesus every week, there wasn't much dust to begin with, and I forgot to take pictures. The before and after ones would have looked the same anyway, since everything here gets cleaned all the time.
After getting off that really high really scary ladder, I spent all the rest of the day praying for forgiveness for all my sins. Praise the Lord.
There, was that better? Sort of? I really do hate that stupid ladder, but I exaggerated exactly how much it freaks me out. Well....sort of.....
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Latest Entry
A rocky start
I haven't posted because I've had a hell of a time eliminating everything I need to in order to give this experiment a fair shot, primarily chocolate. And Diet Coke.
The good news (I guess) is that I can tell now that those foods make me sick, so I have even more reason to cut them out. The GAPS Diet prescribes lots of fermented foods, so I was hoping to come up with a homemade, fizzy, fermented drink to replace the soda, like fermented lemonade or beet kvass, but I haven't had much luck with that. Here is the Jinger (heehee) bug that I starved to death.
Spoiler
And an attempt at an apple cranberry kvass that went moldy on day three, so I refuse to continue with it. Some sources say to remove the mold and keep going, but that's just too squicky for me.
Spoiler
So I've been eating a lot of homemade chicken soup with sour cream or yogurt stirred in, and I like it. It makes me feel healthy and like I'm taking good care of myself. I got an Instant Pot for Christmas so I plan on trying to make my own yogurt soon.
Has anyone had good results with small batch fermenting at home?
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Playing Around With Watercolors
I've recently been playing around with watercolors a lot (mostly because I wanted to paint something nice for my bestie for her birthday) and I just kinda wanted to show off some of the things I've done recently. So this post now exists.
Most of these are from my #drawweirdaleveryday project (which I gave up for a long while but am now doing again) but the cat is my friend's cat Khéops. I painted that for her birthday.
I've got one more I could show, but it's not quite done (it's also meant to be a surprise yet and its recipient hasn't seen it yet).
ART!
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The beginning of the blog
So this is the beginning of a blog. Just something I can write out that may or may not be interesting. I am Sadie. I am 30. I work in the local hospital, providing care for psych patients. I am also a mom of 3. My oldest has autism and my youngest is hyper as heck. I am married to Micah, a die hard atheist who is an engineer. Probably the most interesting of all things is that we were raised in a religious cult until we were adults (ish. I was 17.) So there will be posts of the struggles that everyone goes through when they leave. It can be hardcore.
So basically today I'll just go into a bit of it. It was patriarchal, women were oppressed hard. We were subjected to four hour long church services, multiple times a week, and were beaten if we did not comply. My family decided to leave when I was 17 due to them trying to marry me off to my husband, as a minor, and because of the disrespect my mom was given. We've never looked back. My husbands family left probably five years ago, because of how my mother in law was treated. My father in law is still struggling. It should also be pointed out that my husband's grandfather is now the leader. We will go into all of this later at some point because oh how I've got stories.
Other things I will probably blog about are my patients (without violating HIPAA) and how I am in a quest to find a way to help the ones with dementia a bit more than, I already do, fashion, or my lack of, music, because oddly enough I sing opera and am a huuuuuuuuuuuuge music nerd, Maybe some books, definitely my kids, and stuff like diet and all that crap. So please enjoy. I promise I'll try to be a regular at this.
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Song on Repeat - December 26th, 2016
Tonight's song I've been listening to over and over is "I'm Not the Man" by Ben Folds. I am basically trying to find every live version I can on youtube. I have been obsessed with this song since the album came out. It gives me a lump in my throat when I listen to it sometimes. In February, I'll be seeing Ben live with a local orchestra. I have no clue if he'll play this one but I might go a bit crazy if he does.
A lovely live version is behind the spoiler tag.
SpoilerIn high school, I liked the song "Brick" by Ben Folds Five. But I never really listened to Ben Folds much until around maybe 2010 or so. Since then, I've been kind of obsessed. I listen to him almost every single day. I'm not sure if that's healthy or not...ha! He just has so many great songs. The one I posted above is from his most recent album. I've only seen him perform live once in 2012. We're finally seeing him again next year and I am so freaking excited about it. As dumb and cliche and it sounds....his music has really helped me get through tough times. This won't be the last Ben song I post here.
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Painting is Finished! (Photos)
It's done!! Oh friends we are so happy it's done! It looks fantastic! Our new wall tree came too and we got it put up and our coats on it. Now just waiting for the floor to acclimate and we'll get it down probably next week. We do have a few more things to hang in the front room, some photos and the Jolly Roger flag over a window as well as a ships wheel and some nautical themed lights.
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Posts
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Father Son Holy Goat 9,335
Jinger presented at a Christian women’s conference.
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nst 21,432
3 hours ago, viii said:When sexually active, it's always a possibility.
As for c-sections, I don't have very many friends who big families (those who do have lots of kids have had vaginal births), but I know when my mom's friend was having babies in the late 80's/early 90's, her doctor was unimpressed when she got pregnant for the fifth time because he said anything past three sections was dangerous. Whether or not that's true or just his opinion, I'm unsure, but it makes sense to me. You're cutting through a lot of tissue and layers, and things weaken with each delivery.
my best friend has 5 kids and the last were twins and she delivered them all naturally.
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WannabeHistorian 1,186
Paul and Helena Morton are expecting. Due date is 7/29, no gender.
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noseybutt 7,554
7 hours ago, clueliss said:James River Church claims Driscoll was trying to destroy their church, wants him to repent
So Lindell is saying it was a publicity stunt by Driscoll without his permission. That tracks. 🍿🍿🍿
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JermajestyDuggar 441,755
48 minutes ago, hoipolloi said:And of course the unspoken part is: "If you can't do it all like me, YouRʻe dOiNg iT wRonG."
It reminds me of Ballerina Farm. Her life is supposed to be aspirational on instagram but her husband comes from a billionaire family.
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Recent Status Updates
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bea
I joined FJ when I was pregnant with my oldest.· 0 replies
She turns 17 at the end of this month and I am feeling VERY OLD.
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Kiki03910
https://www.space.com/mars-helicopter-ingenuity-team-says-goodbye· 0 replies
I'M NOT CRYING.
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Kiki03910
https://www.msn.com/en-us/news/technology/nasas-dragonfly-rotorcraft-mission-to-saturns-moon-titan-confirmed/ar-BB1lNYYV· 0 replies
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Kiki03910
Wishing I had a dollar for every time I burped on my back porch after dark and set off a neighbor's dog. The best part is that I'm sure everyone think it's my BF and not me, because it's surely not possible such a huge noise could come out of my body.· 0 replies
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