No Substitute for Sense

As I’ve been fighting the demon of lactose intolerance, lately I’ve been sampling several different milk alternatives.

Soy, hemp, almond, grain, etc. All of ’em.

The one thing they have in common in the strongly worded admonition on the side of the container that the product shouldn’t be used as a substitute for baby formula.

All because of that one couple who fed only soy milk and apple juice to their baby, and the baby died.

So I’d been thinking about just this very topic recently when lo and behold, my friend NewMexiKen posted this today (from a 1956 Life Magazine):



Via The Consumerist, click image for full story.


From the ad copy: “For a fact, you can even give this sparkling drink to babies—and without any qualms. Lots of mothers do just that!”

Faboo! Sort of reminds me of the old family scrapbook I have where my grandparents wrote down the formula to feed their first baby. The recipe is Karo syrup and milk. My Aunt turned out fine, so I guess it was ok.


Imitation is the Sincerest Form of Education

On the final day of the San Mateo County Fair, a beautiful blue sky Sunday, The Good Man and I went for a final visit and the intent of procuring unhealthy fair food.

I grabbed my camera to take along, intent on taking some photos of the carnival.

Let’s be honest, carnival shots have been done. A lot. By a lot of photographers that are a heck of a lot more talented than me.

Not only is imitation the sincerest form of flattery, when it comes to photography, it’s the best way to learn. I sometimes spend an awful lot of time figuring out how someone got the shot and trying to replicate it. *click* Nope. fiddle-fiddle-fiddle *click* Nope. You get the idea.

But then, I do finally figure it out. And I get it. Then I understand how it works. I learn a bit more about light and exposure and framing…and…and…and.

And so, the ubiquitous Ferris Wheel shot. I’m pretty happy with how it turned out, actually. I like that the edges break out of the side of the shot. This is something my photography teacher has been working on with us.



From there, now that I got it, I branch out to try to get some snaps of things that take on my own style. Learn from the masters then add a layer of my own perspective.

This is my favorite shot from the day:





This one is for my best friend who loves carousels.



Nothing ground breaking here, but a lot of fun. And what’s best, you may not be able to see it, but I can certainly see how my skills are continuing to improve.

As they say, practice, practice, practice.


Happy Pop’s Day

Here’s my Pops and me. I was three months old.




Nice white socks. What my dad lacked in fashion sense, he made up for in being cantankerous.

Or something like that.

I think everyone born from about 1950 to about 1970 has a photo similar to this.

Sitting on the couch with dad. A cultural necessity.



Photo from a family album, likely taken by my mom and subject to the Creative Commons license seen in the right hand column of this page.


The Id, The Ego and The Stick of Butter

Slept not at all last night and now I’m stumbling through the day. I’m in need of inspiration and Theme Thursday isn’t posted yet. Instead, I’ll take the Free Association route to help my weary Muse along.

I’ve pressed The Muse so hard lately, I can hardly blame her for being a skosh wilted.

But she’s still got a little left in the tank.

And away we go:


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  1. Decoder :: Reminds me of those kids magazines that print messages for the reader to decode. I never had a decoder ring, that’s a skosh before my time, but I remember trying to figure out the key to decode the message. Loved it!
  2. Cake :: What’s not to love about cake? However, here’s a sore point for me: I hate whipped cream frosting. It’s buttercream or nothing. That whippy stuff isn’t interesting, plus it melts off and gets watery. No. Oh, and when I say buttercream, I mean real buttercream, with, you know, butter. I’ll eat the shortening style, but it gives me a greasy feel. Real butter = good. Ok, I’d better wrap up, I can discuss butter and cake all day long.
  3. Sense :: “She’s as happy as if she had good sense.” One of my favorite colloquialisms. It’s used a lot by my best friend’s mom, and it makes me laugh every time. It usually follows some story about someone being blithely stupid. “So she went out and bought a new car even though she can’t make her mortgage payments. And she’s as happy as if she had good sense.”
  4. Geek :: You know, this used to be an insulting word, but now it’s taken on a certain hip cache. As a lover of language, I’m always fascinated when an unkind word is taken in and made into something of a source of pride. Granted, geek was not as harsh as some unkind language, but in the early days, it still wasn’t a nice thing to be called. Now people wear it with pride.
  5. Cousin :: My folks both come from fairly large families so I have lots and lots of cousins. The Good Man’s folks came from small families with few kids, so he has only a few cousins. I think sometimes the sheer vastness of my family sometimes gives him pause. Imagine a roomful of me or people like me. That would give anyone pause, really.
  6. Goggles :: On this cold, dreary grey June day, I’d love nothing more to have a blazing hot high desert day instead. I’d strap on the goggles, blow up my hot pink air mattress and flop down into Ute Lake for a cooling swim. Yeah. That’s a real nice thought. Instead I must see about my umbrella and a coat. Where is summer, again?
  7. Social media :: *sigh* That’s all I have to say about that.
  8. Butterfly :: Mmm, you know what would be tasty for lunch right now? Some jumbo prawns, butterflied out and sautéed in butter. Mmm. Butter. Butter = good. Did I already mention that?
  9. Search :: However, despite my professions of love for butter, I shall instead spend my lunch hour walking around the nearby lagoon and then I’ll search for a leafy salad to dine on. Butter = good, but costly in the hip and thigh region.
  10. Manicure :: I need one. A lot. Since times have been a bit leaner in the ol’ pocketbook, I’ve had to forgo professional mani/pedi in favor of managing it myself. I’m pretty good at it, but it’s always about finding the time for these pampering projects. I’m still totally in love with the Sally Hansen Salon Effects product line. Ok, much like cake, I can ramble on for a while about nail polish.

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Next up, ink blots. Tell me…what do YOU see……?





Image from the Synaesthesia Experiment.


Craft Catatonia

Hoo boy….I am beat down to a nub. I have been arts and crafting my ass off in preparation for the upcoming local county fair.

While the term “county fair” may imply something small and hick-ish, my local fair is anything but. It’s a huge event

Back in February, I visited with my godkids in Las Cruces, and they were all fired up about their own county fair coming up in September.

My niños are all about 4H and have decided to raise pigs this year to show at the fair. Their excitement was contagious, so I came back to Northern California fired up and ready to participate in my own fair.

In fact, I was so excited that when the guidebook arrived, I decided to sign up for four events. Four. Which means I’m either stupid or sadistic. I, uh, have a full time job.

Since the fair kicks off June 11, my four entries are due, oh, NOW.

The events I’m doing are: short story, photography, visual art, and baking.

Yes. I said baking.

The short story had to be turned in over a month ago so the judges had plenty of time to read and evaluate the stories. Last week I got the smoking hot news that my story won my genre category, which was Western.

Whoo hoo! The fair hasn’t even started and I’m liking this already!

The story will be published in an anthology of stories put out by the Fair and sold to benefit charity.

Pretty damn excited, I can tell you that!

The photography entry has gone fairly well, too. I knew which photo I wanted to use and it was a matter of getting a good print made (harder than it sounds) and then cutting the mat and framing the piece. I got that done mid-last week. Boom!

The visual art piece is a Dia de los Muertos inspired craft. Oh, how this work has vexed me. I had a *very* ambitious idea and have spent the last couple months constructing tons and tons of tiny details and figures and touches. The work, just finished this morning, doesn’t include all of the aspects I’d hoped to accomplish, but I have to say, I’m very proud. This project really pushed the bounds of my abilities as both crafter and storyteller.

Yesterday evening I slumped back in my chair, catatonic. I had nothing left. I had glue and paint all over my hands, sweat on my brow and an ache in my lower back that defies superlatives.

But yet I was still compelled to keep going and finish this piece on deadline, for no other reason than the pure satisfaction of having completed something so very boundary testing.

I did it. I DID it. I’ll be damned…I actually did it. Whoa.

Today I’ll turn in the framed photo and the art work and then I’ll do a little “I made it by the deadline” dance.

Then I’ll collapse.

But wait, there’s more! The deadline for the fourth event comes up next week. I entered the “ethnic desserts” category and I’ll be whipping up a batch of Biscochitos.

New Mexico! Representin’!

And then I will eat my fill of anise seed treats, slip into a sugar coma, and sleep for a very long time…or at least until The Muse taps me on the psyche again.