Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies

Pumpkin Oatmeal Cookies (not my recipe...just want to try it)
prep time: 15 minutes | cooking time: 32 minutes | makes 4 dozen cookies


Note: I use flax seeds because they make the texture a little chewier, but I've made them without and they're still good!

Equipment:
baking sheets
2 mixing bowls

Ingredients
2 cups flour
1 1/3 cups rolled oats
1 teaspoon baking soda
3/4 teaspoon salt
1 tsp cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon nutmeg

1 2/3 cups sugar
2/3 cup canola oil
2 tablespoons molasses
1 cup canned pumpkin, or cooked pureed pumpkin
1 teaspoon vanilla
optional: 1 tablespoon ground flax seeds

1 cup walnuts, finely chopped
1/2 cup raisins

Directions
Preheat oven to 350. Have ready 2 greased baking sheets.

Mix together flour, oats, baking soda, salt and spices.

In a seperate bowl, mix together sugar, oil, molasses, pumpkin and vanilla (and flax seeds if using) until very well combined. Add dry ingredients to wet in 3 batches, folding to combine. Fold in walnuts and raisins.

Drop by tablespoons onto greased cookie sheets. They don't spread very much so they can be placed only an inch apart. Flatten the tops of the cookies with a fork or with your fingers, to press into cookie shape. Bake for 16 minutes at 350. If you are using two sheets of cookies on 2 levels of your oven, rotate the sheets halfway through for even baking. You'll have enough batter for 4 trays.

Remove from oven and get cookies onto a wire rack to cool. These taste best when they've had some time to cool and set. They taste even better the next day!

Farm Musings

Do you like salad? If you eat it, chances are the lettuce (or spinach or specialty green) you find in it come from here where I live. This field was just harvested today, for at least the third time this growing season. It is right next to where I work in Watsonville, which happens to be the home of Martinelli’s (the apple juice bottling company), Driscoll’s (the strawberry people), SunRidge Farms (the trail mix people), and Dole (produce kings). Watsonville grows more strawberries than anywhere in the world. Just 20 minutes down the road, Castroville is the artichoke-growing capital of the world. Inland 20 minutes is Gilroy, the main garlic-producer in the U.S. And Salinas, only 30 minutes south, is known as the world’s salad bowl. Earthbound Farms (organic lettuce and specialty produce grower) is 45 minutes south in Carmel. And there are others.

When most people think of Santa Cruz or the Central Coast, they probably think of surfing or skateboarding or coastline and beaches. Farming is actually a much larger way of life here than wave-riding. It just isn’t quite as glamorous. It’s true that large-scale farming has wiped out much of the small family farms everywhere in the U.S., but some small farmers seem to be eeking out an existence here, thanks to lots of local, regional, and statewide organizing and policy work, and organizations like Community Supported Agriculture (CSA) and California Association of Family Farms (CAFF). The Association of Land-Based Agriculture even works with migrant farmworkers and seasonal workers to help them start to own their own farms and find niches in the market to support their families.

Campaigns like Buy Fresh Buy Local encourage the public here to invest their food dollars in locally-grown produce, and small family farms actually deliver produce boxes to local families who pay for a “share” of whatever they are harvesting. We are one such family, and we love it. The farm we own a “share” in delivers food from Monterey all the way to San Francisco. And local restaurants make a big deal about cooking with all local, in-season produce. It’s quite gourmet. People pay lots of money to eat at these restaurants, and at least some of the profit is passed on to the farms who supply those eateries with seasonal ingredients.

Here is the guy currently responsible for much of the policy around food and farming in California—A.G. Kawamura:




He is our current State Secretary of Food & Agriculture. I had a chance to hang out with him and his press secretary most of the day yesterday at our Nutrition Summit, where he was the keynote speaker and I was our press liason. He’s taking a lot of heat at the moment—and for legitimate reasons, I think—but I was impressed with him. Whatever California does well or poorly, one thing is sure: few states in the U.S. can say they’ve done more to work with family farmers to find new ways to compete in a market dominated by huge agribusiness. It was really neat to get a chance to meet someone who helps make that happen.

Call for Submissions! That means YOU!

Hi Blog Readers Near and Far:
I'm putting together an envelope full of advice from friends and family for the birth coming up in about 7 weeks! We are planning a natural, unmedicated childbirth, so I need words of wisdom, encouragement, and advice from YOU. Here's what you can do:

1. If you are a friend or reader--post a comment on this blog post or email it to me with your words of advice, encouragement, wisdom, etc. that you think would be helpful to read when I'm in labor and wishing for anything to dull the pain! It can be something you've heard, read, or just a well wish.

2. If you are a friend or reader who has been through childbirth--post a comment on this blog or email it to me with some sage advice on getting through the stages of labor. Have a favorite mantra or position that worked for you? Pass it on!

3. If you are a friend or reader who has been through natural, unmedicated childbirth--post your comment or email me with some things that worked when you were, oh, around 7cm or 8cm and feeling your worst! Share *anything* that helped...positions, breathing patterns, visualizations, massage techniques, etc. etc.

Extra Credit--If your husbands/partners/boyfriends/guy friends have any advice for Abe, send it along as well!

The idea is that I'll cut these up, fold them, put them in an envelope, and tote them to the birthing center with me. When I feel like I just can't make it a second longer, I'll give myself a goal of waiting five minutes and pulling out some encouraging words to keep me going. SO, YOUR sage advice could be the thing I read that gets me through the worst of labor!

I know this probably sounds hokey, but I've always been a milepost kind of person...it gives me some sense of control and something to work for. So start writing.....believe me, it'll be appreciated!

Counting down (and waiting for your thoughts),
Me

Yogis Can Fly, and Elephant Ballet

I started a Yoga Teacher Training this past weekend at Yoga High Studio in Salinas. I was feeling a little ambivalent about the training as I drove to the studio on the first day. Yoga was such a big part of my life 2 or 3 years ago, and although I still love it, the practice has dwindled for me and taken a back seat to triathalon trainings, long distance relationships, and other life changes. I wasn't sure I belonged at a teacher training. Especially since I'm 6 months pregnant.

I am SO glad I went. I fell in love with it all over again, and began to remember what it felt like the few times I've taught a class--what a gift yoga is and what an honor to be able to show people the little I know.

I've been to alot of yoga classes, and I saw something on Sunday that awed me for the first time in a long time. Mark Stephens was a guest teacher, breaking down Sun Salutations. He did something called 'floating.' Starting in a forward bend, his transition to plank pose was not the traditional step or hop back, but a spring up off his hands, hips above his head, and the lightest, slowest, most gravity-defying feather-light landing into plank position I've ever seen. It actually looked like he was floating. It made me realize just how limited our perception of what are bodies, minds, and souls are capable of is. I'm thankful to him for that one moment of helping me re-imagine.

I, on the other hand, felt like an elephant in ballet slippers. My center of gravity and sense of balance change almost daily now, and I've certainly lost all sense of grace and style. I aim for getting into the pose and getting out again without falling over. That's it. Forget anything else. This has been a mental challenge, especially on the mat next to lithe, experienced yogis who do not have a belly to negotiate.

Overall, I'm excited. And if you're interested, Mark Stephens has a website: www.markstephensyoga.com.

Baby News Here

I started a family blog when we discovered we were pregnant, to keep family and friends who are far away abreast of the developments (and satisfy everyone's need for belly photos!).

That blog is here: www.WestCoastOjures.blogspot.com.

Who's the History Major?

AS AUSTRALIA'S defence minister during the Vietnam War and its prime minister when a flood of boat people arrived, Malcolm Fraser has a much different historical view of that conflict than US President George Bush...

"George Bush's analogies are so historically wrong that it just makes you wonder: how can such a man ever get into that position? It does make him a very dangerous man for all of us," the former PM says.

"The links he's making are historically inaccurate. It ought not to be within the capacity of a political leader, and certainly not the American President, to be so grossly misleading."

Read the rest of the story here:
http://www.theage.com.au/news/in-depth/history-by-george/2007/08/23/1187462435439.html

Pregnancy Education & Etiquette

1. Don't touch my tummy without asking! It's weird! One of the best books I've read on pregnancy suggested rubbing the offending person's tummy back and saying, "Oh, I just wanted to see what a flat tummy feels like."

2. No more "you're so big" comments! You might want to think twice about the "any day now" comments as well. Case in point: "Oh, (long tummy glance) you must be due any day!" Response: "Actually, not for another 3 months." A for awkward.

3. My life is NOT reduced to discussing pregnancy and baby stuff only! I can still entertain discussions about politics, work, and life without self-destructing.

4. Don't assume I want extra pickles. Come on! I consider it a public education effort on the part of all pregnant women to let you know that we don't all crave pickles. Or anything, for that matter.

5. Feel free to ask as many questions as you want. Pregnancy is a big part of my life right now, and I don't mind talking about it. (If you think this conflicts with item 3, you're wrong.)

6. Don't feel free to give unsolicited advice. (A general truism of social etiquette no matter what, but especially applicable during pregnancy).

7. Pregnant women can do alot. We can bike, run, swim, hike, etc. (providing our doctors okay it and everything's normal). Don't assume we can't. And, don't assume we will want to do any of that. Things feel different when you have a watermelon attached to your front.

8. I don't have to love being pregnant to love my baby.

9. Giving advice about food (you should eat more X and less X) is uncool, unless you are a medical expert.

10. Read this list again with a wink and a smile! After many years as a single adult, I can tell you that you don't have to have kids to have a complete life. But, pregnancy is pretty cool, for those of us who are experiencing it.

Red Letter Christian

The funny thing about this article is that my Dad has been an advocate for only following the words in red for many years. So, Dad, this is for you.

What's a 'Red-Letter Christian'?
by Tony Campolo
Beliefnet 2-27-2006
Recently, I met with a group of religious leaders who have become increasingly disturbed by the alliance between evangelical Christians and the Republican Party. Karl Rove, President Bush’s political strategist, has brilliantly and successfully served as the matchmaker to arrange this union, which was consummated in the last presidential election when 83 percent of evangelicals voted Republican.

The meeting was joined by the Rev. Jim Wallis of Sojourners magazine; Father Richard Rohr, a well-known Catholic writer and speaker; Brian McLaren, a leader of the emergent church movement; the Rev. Dr. Cheryl J. Sanders, a prominent African-American pastor; the Rev. Noel Castellanos, a strong voice in the Hispanic community; and several other outstanding Christian communicators.

The purpose of this gathering was not to create a religious left movement to challenge the religious right, but to jump-start a religious movement that will transcend partisan politics. Believing that Jesus is neither a Republican nor a Democrat, we want to unite Christians who are concerned about what is happening in America. We are evangelicals who are troubled by what is happening to poor people in America; who are disturbed over environmental policies that are contributing to global warming; who are dismayed over the increasing arrogance of power shown in our country’s militarism; who are outraged because government funding is being reduced for schools where students, often from impoverished and dysfunctional homes, are testing poorly; who are upset with the fact that of the 22 industrialized nations America is next to last in the proportion of its national budget (less than two-tenths of 1 percent) that is designated to help the poor of third-world countries; and who are broken-hearted over discrimination against women, people of color, and those who suffer because of their sexual orientation.

Because being evangelical is usually synonymous with being Republican in the popular mind, and calling ourselves “progressive” might be taken as a value judgment by those who do share our views, we decided not to call ourselves “progressive evangelicals.” We came up with a new name: Red-Letter Christians.

Who first suggested the label? A secular Jewish Country-and-Western disc jockey in Nashville, Tennessee. During a radio interview he was conducting with Jim Wallis, he happened to say, “So, you’re one of those Red-Letter Christians - you know - who’s really into those verses in the New Testament that are in red letters!”

Jim answered, “That’s right!” And with that answer, he spoke for all of us. By calling ourselves Red-Letter Christians, we are alluding to the fact that in several versions of the New Testament, the words of Jesus are printed in red. In adopting this name, we are saying that we are committed to living out the things that He said. Of course, the message in those red-lettered verses is radical, to say the least. If you don’t believe me, read Jesus’ Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7).

In those red letters, He calls us away from the consumerist values that dominate contemporary American consciousness. He calls us to be merciful, which has strong implications for how we think about capital punishment. When Jesus tells us to love our enemies, he probably means we shouldn’t kill them. Most important, if we take Jesus seriously, we will realize that meeting the needs of the poor is a primary responsibility for His followers.

Figuring out just how to relate those radical red letters in the Bible to the complex issues in the modern world will be difficult, but that’s what we’ll try to do.

Gandhi once said that everybody in the world knows what Jesus was teaching in those verses - except Christians! We will try to prove him wrong.

Not Your Children

And a woman who held a babe against her bosom
said, "Speak to us of Children."

And he said:
Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts,
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.
You are the bows from which your children as living arrows are sent forth.
The archer sees the mark upon the path of the infinite,
and He bends you with His might that His arrows may go swift and far.

Let your bending in the archer's hand be for gladness;
For even as He loves the arrow that flies, so he loves
also the bow that is stable.

--from Khalil Gibran's The Prophet

Race isn't a factor?

I heard about this story through my friend Anne's blog just today, and I decided to check it out. Here's the link to the story I found:

http://rawstory.com/news/afp/Racial_demons_resurface_with_nooses_05242007.html

The part that made me most angry?

"Race is not a major local issue," said Mayor Murphy McMillan. "It's not a factor in the local people's lives."

It depends on who you ask, I bet. When you are a part of the norm where you live, you have the privilege of ignoring what may, in fact, be a daily reality for others there who don't share your skin color.

I don't know what happened in Jena, but I know there's enough ignorance and nasty ill-will around to believe that something smells foul.

Open Letter to Baby

Dear Baby Ojure,

What a surprise you are! I remember very well the day we discovered you were coming into the family. I'd been having strange dreams about being pregnant, and your dad was away on business. He traveled a lot at that time. I even told him on the phone about my feelings, and he'd been having them, too! We agreed to check the situation out when he got home that weekend.

I remember EVERYTHING about that Sunday. I remember getting ready to go pick him up at SFO...our car was being shipped cross country and had not yet arrived, so the rental car I was driving was a huge monstrosity of a truck with an extended cab and a V8 engine--I towered above everyone on the freeway to SF and almost didn't clear the ceiling in the parking garage, the thing was so huge! I even remember what I was wearing---Rogue jeans, a white paisley shirt, and flip flops. Your dad and I had a really great day. We drove down Highway 1 and stopped in Half Moon Bay for burritos. I remember feeling so happy he was home. Looking back, the trip down the coast seems like it was endless and beautiful…the fog and the sun were just right on the water, the breeze felt refreshing, and we were in love. All that in a Sunday afternoon drive, and we had no idea what was in store for us in a little First Response package on the Safeway shelf. Actually, we still have no idea.

We got back to Santa Cruz and picked up a few things at the grocery store, including the cheapest home pregnancy test they had. At home, I went into the bathroom, took out the test, and the thing was positive before I could even get my jeans up and zipped. I actually stood there for a second, looking at the results, not sure what to say to Abe. Which words were right? I was trying to compose myself in some sort of way, but I couldn’t figure out which composure was right! The “proper-reaction-to-I’m-pregnant” card wasn’t catalogued in my brain.

As an aside, I have to say, it was a tricky moment. The “oh no I’m pregnant and we’re in trouble with the parents” reaction wasn’t right, although after 2 years of working in teen pregnancy prevention, I’ll admit it was the first reaction that popped into my head, despite the fact that my teen years (and very tame ones where pregnancy wasn’t a consideration) are 10 years in the past. The “hurray-we’re-pregnant-finally” reaction didn’t quite fit either; although we ARE excited and celebrating, we weren’t planning you quite yet and we were a little worried about being prepared for parenthood so soon…we didn’t even have furniture in our apartment!

I don’t actually remember what I said to your dad when I came out of the bathroom, but I DO remember his eyes were big, his mouth fell open, and he put his hand on his head and sort-of paced in a circle for a second…which, if you are old enough to read this, I’m sure you’ve seen him do hundreds of times. He likes to pace. Oh god, you probably do, too!

I do remember we both smiled. Really smiled. And then we went to the nearest drug store for a back-up test, this time the most expensive brand they had. This test actually said the word “pregnant” in the screen. No doubt. You were announcing your arrival.

That night we felt so peaceful and happy and in love. All the things I’ve always thought I’d feel about being pregnant—doubt, elation, worry, joy, fear—just didn’t happen. I felt peace. And so did your dad.

We did feel worried about telling our parents. Somewhere your dad and I must exist in a perpetual state of youth. We live our lives that way a lot—with lots of energy and adventure—and I think we felt like naughty teenagers caught in the ultimate act! We called our friends The Blairs first, because we knew they’d be excited. Ben was happy, and his mom, Lark, who will be attending your birth as our Birth Coach, said your little soul had been orbiting around us for a while. She wasn’t surprised by the news of your coming at all.

It was too late that night to call anyone on the east coast, so we told your grandparents the next day. Both sets of them were so excited. We weren’t even grounded! Ha ha. When we told your Grandma Lenna we weren’t sure if we were ready to be parents, she replied, “Well, I’m ready to be a grandparent!”

Your Nana Koger had already made your first baby blanket and sent it before you were even in utero 4 months! Meanwhile, you were letting me know you were there. I felt so great for the first few weeks, but it wasn’t long before I was sick. I mean, really sick. I threw up three or four times a day. I threw up in bathrooms at restaurants, in bathrooms at gas stations. On the side of the road. In a little clearing near the beach on the way to work. At work. In the car. At the airport. Nothing helped.

Finally, one day, I felt better. It so happened that I drank chai that morning, and so every morning thereafter, I drank chai religiously. We were even a little late to breakfast with your family the morning of your Aunt Sunya’s college graduation because I had to find a place to grab a chai! I don’t know if the chai actually helped, but I wasn’t taking any chances.

Now, it is about 3 ½ months before your scheduled arrival. We have furniture in the apartment, including some baby-specific additions. We have doctors and midwives and a labor coach. I feel great, look pregnant, and everyone is predicting a boy. I’m not sure about your sex, but I AM predicting a beautiful soul with lots of things to discover and learn about the world, and lots of things to teach. Your dad and I are excited to meet you face to face, to watch you as you grow, and to grow with you.

Waiting,
Mom

Republicans Impeach Bush?!?

GOP senator hints impeaching Bush an option



www.chinaview.cn 2007-03-26 13:22:26

Adjust font size:

BEIJING, March 26 (Xinhuanet) -- One Republican senator on Sunday hinted impeachemnt of President George Bush over his war policy while another Republican senator was railing against House Democrats for setting an "artificial date" for withdrawing U.S. troops from Iraq.

GOP Sen. Chuck Hagel of Nebraska, a member of the Senate Foreign Relations Committee and a frequent critic of the war, stopped short of calling for Bush’s impeachment. But he made clear that some lawmakers viewed that as an option should Bush choose to push ahead despite public sentiment against the war.

"Any president who says, I don't care, or I will not respond to what the people of this country are saying about Iraq or anything else, or I don't care what the Congress does, I am going to proceed -- if a president really believes that, then there are -- what I was pointing out, there are ways to deal with that," said Hagel, who is considering a 2008 presidential run.

On Sunday, Hagel said he was bothered by Bush's apparent disregard of congressional sentiment on Iraq, such as his decision to send additional troops. He said lawmakers now stood ready to stand up to the president when necessary.

"This is not a monarchy," he added, referring to the possibility that some lawmakers may seek impeachment. "There are ways to deal with it. And I would hope the president understands that."

In the April edition of Esquire magazine, Hagel described Bush as someone who doesn't believe he's accountable to anyone.

"He's not accountable anymore, which isn't totally true. You can impeach him, and before this is over, you might see calls for his impeachment. I don't know. It depends on how this goes," Hagel told the magazine.

Sen. Trent Lott, R-Miss. said setting withdrawal dates is a futile and potentially dangerous exercise because Bush has made clear he will veto any such legislation.

"There are members in the Senate in both parties that are not comfortable with how things have gone in Iraq," Lott said. "But they understand that artificial timetables, even as goals, are a problem. ...We will try to take out the arbitrary dates.

"We need to put that kind of decision in the hands of our commanders who are there on the ground with the men and women. For Congress to impose an artificial date of any kind is totally irresponsible."

The Senate planned to begin debate Monday on a war spending bill that would set a nonbinding goal of March 31, 2008, for the removal of combat troops.

That comes after the House narrowly passed a bill Friday that would pay for wars in Iraq and Afghanistan this year but would require that combat troops come home from Iraq before September 2008 -- or earlier if the Iraqi government did not meet certain requirements.

States I've Visited

create your own visited states map

Ode to Marriage

It's amazing. Loving him heals me, makes me love deeper, wider, greater. Loving him makes forgiveness instant, makes grace cover everyone in my life, makes me forget the petty past and forget to worry about the uncertain future. Loving him makes me love everyone more.

My words only hint at secrets, only draw an outline so faint few could even see--only the sparkling wave is visible to the naked eye...you cannot see the treasures below, so many treasures. I feel so loved.

An inspiring letter

Among the many letters I have received since I wrote Diet for a New America, there is one that I would like to share with you. I received it in the mid-1990s, from a man in San Francisco, California. It represents, for me at least, a statement of hope for us all. — John Robbins

Mr. Robbins,

Your book Diet for a New America has had quite an influence on my family. About two years ago, I would have liked to have killed you for it. Let me explain.

I am an extremely successful man. I am used to getting my way. When my daughter, Julie, was a teenager, she announced that she wanted to become a vegetarian. She had read your book. I thought this was ridiculous, and insisted that she stop this nonsense. When she did not obey, I became angry. “I am your father,” I told her, “and I know better than you.”

“I am your daughter,” she replied, “and it’s my life.”

We had many fights over this. We weren’t getting along very well, and there were tensions between us, but they seemed always to come to a head over the never-ending vegetarian debates. It drove me crazy. As far as I saw it, she was being disrespectful and willful, and just wanted to get her way. She said the same about me.

At first, my wife and I forced her to eat meat, but she made such a stink about it that meal times were completely ruined. So eventually, resenting it, we caved in and allowed her to eat her vegetarian meals. But I let her know how I felt about it. It’s okay to be an idealist, I told her, but you’ve got to keep your feet on the ground. It’s okay to be a lawyer, she told me, but you’ve got to keep your heart open. It was terribly aggravating.

For my birthday, one year, she made me breakfast in bed. But there was no bacon, no sausage, not even any eggs. It just turned into another bad situation.

I reminded her that it was my birthday, not hers. She set about telling me about how the pigs and chickens were treated, quoting chapter and verse from your book. This was not what I wanted to hear, first thing in the morning, on my birthday.

After she graduated from high school, Julie moved out. I was glad, actually, because I was sick and tired of it. Every meal it was an issue. I wanted her to eat meat, and she wouldn’t. She wanted me to stop eating meat, and I wouldn’t. There was no peace. But after she left, I missed her. Not the arguments, I didn’t miss them, but I missed her a lot more than I thought I would.

Several years later, Julie found herself a husband, and a short while after that she became pregnant. When our grandchild was born, I was on top of the world. But of course it didn’t last. Sure enough, Julie wanted to raise her son, our grandson, as a vegetarian. This time, I put my foot down. “You can ruin your own life if you want to,” I told her, “but you cannot ruin the health of this innocent boy.” As far as I was concerned, what she was doing was child abuse. I even considered calling the Department of Children’s Services. I believed they would either force her to feed our grandson properly, or remove him from her clutches. It was only because my wife prevented me that I didn’t take that step.

While I had found I could (barely) tolerate Julie being a vegetarian, I simply could not accept her doing this to our grandson. Eventually, it got so bad that she stopped seeing me entirely. Not only had this stupid vegetarian obsession of hers cost me my relationship with my daughter, it had also cost me my relationship with my grandson, because now she wouldn’t bring him by, nor would she let me visit. I was completely cut off.

I thought I should at least try to keep the door open, though, so through my wife (Julie wouldn’t even speak to me by then) I asked her what she wanted for her next birthday. She said what she most wanted was for me to read your book, Diet for a New America. I told her this would be impossible, because it would be too time consuming. She told me that if I would actually read it, for every hour it took me, she would let me see my grandson for an equal number of hours. She’s a smart one. She knows where my soft spots are.

So, Mr. Robbins, I read your book. I read the whole thing, every word. What impacted me the most was your description of how animals are raised nowadays. I had no idea it was so severe. It’s ghastly, and I totally agree with you that it must not be allowed to continue. I know cruelty when I see it, and this is extreme.

I’m sure you’ve heard this all before, but no book I have ever read has impacted me in this manner. I was overwhelmed.

I called her, when I was done reading. “I told you not to call me,” she said as soon as she knew it was me. “Yes,” I said, “but I’ve read the book, and I want you to come over for dinner and bring the boy.”

Mr. Robbins, I am a proud man, and what I said next did not come easily to me. But I knew what I must do, and so I did it. “Dearest Julie,” I said, “please forgive me. There won’t be a fight if you come over. I have made a terrible mistake, and I understand that, now. If you come, there will be no meat served, to anyone.”

There was silence on the other end of the phone. I learned later that she was crying, but I didn’t know it at the time. I only knew there was something else I had to say. “And there won’t be any meat served ever again in this house,” I told her, “that comes from factory farms.”

“Are you joking?” she asked in disbelief.

“I’m not joking,” I said. “I mean it.” “We’re coming,” she said.

And I did mean it. There has been no meat served here since then. We simply don’t buy it. Julie is teaching us how to eat vegetable burgers, tofu, and a variety of other things I used to mock. I don’t mind a bit. I look upon it as a kind of adventure.

Since then, they have come over for many happy dinners, and many other happy times, too. Mr. Robbins, can you understand what this means to me? I’ve got my daughter back, and my grandson, too. My daughter is a wonderful human being. And our grandson has not yet had a single cold or ear infection or any of the other ailments children often have. She says it’s because he eats so well. I say it’s because he’s got the best mother in the world.

What’s being done to these animals is wrong, terribly and horribly wrong. You are right. Animals should never be treated like that. Never. Never. Never. Never. Never.

I pledge to you what I have pledged to Julie. I will never again let a bite of flesh cross my lips that comes from an animal that has been treated like that.

Now, when Julie says that animals are her friends, and she doesn’t eat her friends, I don’t argue, as I used to. I just smile, happy to know that I am no longer at odds with such a special person. And glad that I can look my grandson in the eye, and know I am helping to make the world a better place for him.

Yours with great respect,

(Name withheld by request)

CD Shipping

I ordered a CD of said group, Bassline Entertainment, from this independent music store online yesterday. This message showed up in my email as a order shipping confirmation:

"Your CD has been gently taken from our CD Baby shelves with
sterilized contamination-free gloves and placed onto a satin pillow.

A team of 50 employees inspected your CD and polished it to make sure
it was in the best possible condition before mailing.

Our packing specialist from Japan lit a candle and a hush fell over
the crowd as he put your CD into the finest gold-lined box that money
can buy.

We all had a wonderful celebration afterwards and the whole party
marched down the street to the post office where the entire town of
Portland waved 'Bon Voyage!' to your package, on its way to you, in
our private CD Baby jet on this day, Friday, January 19th.

I hope you had a wonderful time shopping at CD Baby. We sure did. Your picture is on our wall as 'Customer of the Year'. We're all
exhausted but can't wait for you to come back to CDBABY.COM!!"

2006 Book List

Books I Read and What I Thought:

Kite Runner--best fiction I read all year.
Wind Up Bird Chronicle--haunting and strange. Worth the read.
Bag of Bones--my first foray into the world of Stephen King. Good.
Gone, Baby, Gone--disturbing.
Practical Demonkeeping--funny but predictable. I've got this author's number, apparently. I can almost finish his sentences.
How to Know God--amazing book. I talk about it to everyone. Read it.
The Triathalete's Training Bible--inspiring, intimidating, and way over my head. Maybe someday I'll be serious enough about the sport to actually use something like this! Until then, having it on my bookshelp makes me look hardcore....
The Gospel of Judas--interesting. Need scholarly help understanding some of its significance.
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius--like Kerouc's writing. Of a specific genre and young, hip, postmodern mindset that I find lame. Although it strikes me that perhaps I don't relate to it because I'm a girl.
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants--fun read. Reminded me of being a teenage girl.
Blue Shoe--not bad. I could appreciate Anne LaMott. Wait, did I read that in 2005?

I need to consult my bookshelf (which still happens to be boxes, at the moment)...back shortly...

Okay:
Me Talk Pretty One Day--okay. I thought I'd like it better, but it was still worth the read.
McSweeney's #18--excellent collection, as usual.
Villa Incognito--another Tom Robbins. He's my favorite author. This wasn't my favorite book of his, but I wasn't at all disappointed.
God Makes the Rivers to Flow--an amazing collection of spiritual poetry. Beautiful.
Memoirs of a Geisha--my second favorite book that I read this year. The movie doesn't do it justice at all. It was a very good book.

Virginia

I am sitting in a blue wing-back chair from Goodwill looking out a double window onto the street. An occasional runner passes by. I notice with a special kind of longing today. Usually, the feeling is more akin to dread and wishing it were me, finishing my run, so that I wouldn't have to think about going out. But today, I was actually looking forward to running. I have new running tights with extra insulation against the cold that just arrived by UPS, and I was excited to try them out. But obstructing my view from the window is also a pile of wet laundry that my husband just got out of the washer which needs to be air-dryed. Among the tangle of clothes is every single long-sleeve running shirt I own. And they are all wet. Very wet. And it is cold outside. Very cold. In the 20s. For me, who's been living on the California coast mostly for the past 9 years, that's frigid. (And yes, I know that last sentence was grammatically incorrect. These days require liberty of pronoun and punctuation.)

Virginia is an interesting place. It is gray outside, and the light is waning. Winter gray here means the possibility of snow, which is exciting. But walking outside is always a little disconcerting for my nose. Winter gray on the coast means the smell of ocean fog. Here, the impending snow-smell is a very different scent, and I can't re-train my nose. It has culture shock everytime I step outside.

It is almost dark, so I guess I didn't have time to run, anyway. I haven't yet graduated to runs wearing a headlamp. I'm going to be a grump this evening, what with no exercise and the embarrasing number of homemade chocolate chip cookies I've put away in the last 2 days.

Last night, I saw Busta Rhymes in concert. In rural Virginia! He played at Washington & Lee University, a small, private, liberal arts college whose students are mostly white, clean-cut, and drive astonishingly nice cars. I've never seen so many khaki pants at a concert, let alone a hip-hop one. And I've never seen a more depressing person than Busta Rhymes. Uck. Most of the students seemed too drunk to notice or care. Luckily the group that opened for him, Bassline Entertainment, was AMAZING. They were a group of teenagers singing real hip hop and having a great time. Infectious. I ordered a CD moments ago.

Well, this is the update, from the mountains of Virginia. I see now it is precipitating...something very fine and hardly discernible, or else my eyes are doing something funny from staring at a computer all day. In either case, it's time to shut down and think about dinner. Damn those chocolate chip cookies. Til next time...