Trailer Park Karma

ADHD Weekly Med(itation)s: 4-24-11

When every little thing is a skunk to tackle, it makes the big things-to-do swell to the size of mountains. Today, even oatmeal feels too challenging.

I'm finally a proud graduate of the Boring As Hell Ticket Dismissal Online Class, for which I cannot reel back in a solid 6-ish hours of my life. Just in time for another ticket between Swamp City and The Sticks. Don't tell me the Universe isn't conspiring against me.

Last spring when I was first checkin out The Sticks, with the glorious fields of wild color everywhere and the smiling folks who kept a good-neighborly distance... Heckuva marketing shpiel, that was...

I think the trick to homelessness is making it seem and look like a big fun adventure. I mean, we're all homeless, really. May as well live it up.

I Know What Boys Like

I can just see all you 80's trendsetters swaying in front of your keyboards... "nyah nyah nyah nyah nyah..."
I also know how to tease people over to my blog, don't I?  /grin

Like I said in this other post the other day, no more coddling you Facebook Fiends. If you like Trailer Park Karma, I want your eyeballs here on this piece of Web property. Facebook's fine, but really... who *can't* do FB?  /grin

So here's what boys like:



And here's why you're seein what boys like:

Neighbor GirlDawg, who shall remain unnamed here to protect what's left of her innocence, has been itchin (if you know what I mean, and I don't mean fleas, although there's them, too) and therefore hanging out in my acreage for nearly a week now. 

No, we don't have "animal control" here, whether that's official personnel or even laws. What you do when there's an animal problem out in my neck o The Sticks -- and this is per the only authority for 100 miles around, to whom I spoke way back when I first moved here just so I was in on the up-and-up -- is take care of it yourself. 

However that may happen.Take that hand you were dealt and let the chips fall where they may.

So when I got back from Swamp City after a few days, I was really hoping GirlDawg had retreated. The Boy and I pull the Buddhamobile in to my dusty driveway (dusty, even in the rain, no kidding, it's that dry out here) around Midnight and there she sat in the middle of the front yard, just beyond the place where I'd shoveled up a dead cat (her love offering to Burb Dawg, no doubt) before leaving town.

Worse, there was evidence that GirlDawg's BFF's (two ratty, roaming ankle-biters who've been wreaking havoc in this town since before I moved in) have been partyin on our porch with her the whole time I was gone. 

The Boy was granted maternal permission to fire at will, with a caveat: please avoid their faces.

"No guarantees," was his reply. Good enough for me.

It took a few skirmishes but, for now, the Bevy of Beautiful Bitches has fallen back. Not even a big ol' rawhide stick can bring the winsome grin back to Burb Dawg's countenance.

I've received my first lesson in air-soft shooting and reloading, so I can act quickly when I'm not copywriting or boiling boxed mac 'n cheese while The Boy romps around town. All's well. Just don't mention the incident to Burb Dawg.

 

ADHD Weekly Med(itation)s: 4-17-11

On self-discipline and the benefits of working for yourself at home: I don't have to feel chipper or even friendly in order to get my work done. I can be grumpy as sin and still write in a voice that says "You're gonna love this!" And never mind that whole taking-a-shower thing... 

Some people call it perseverating. Some people call it becoming an expert in something.

I'm totally with the Conspiracy Theorists on any topic related to AT&T.

With a man who loves me enough to clean my bunny slippers fueled by "so much devotion and OCD", how the hell can I lose?

Do I really think that what I write is so interesting that people might enjoy reading it? Yes. Yes, I do. And implying otherwise is like trying to tell a Texan that there's anything wrong with being uber-proud of the state they're from.

Sara Clement's Delicious Anxiety-Provoking Butterfly Borscht

Just to show you the kind of folks I hang out with... Sometimes some of us can be a little on edge. My writing colleague, Sara Clement, writes about some heavy stuff on her blog, Reflections of a Butterfly. But you know, even in lives with more than their share of sadness and loss, there's time for hilarity.

No, really. 

Sara understands. In fact, the way it works for some of us, the harder things get, the crazier we may seem -- but it's all a ruse. We're just trying to trick life into thinking it can't get us down. I think we're winning.

So the other day, Sara posted this recipe on her blog, complete with the story of how the "blood bath" effect sent Sara into a tailspin of hysterical sobs and totally ruined her kids' appetites.

I can't wait to make some and have my own little meltdown.

Butterfly Borscht


3 large beets, chopped coarsely. (by hand or food processor...do not over process...you want small chunks.)

3 large carrots and leftover beet greens, pureed in 1 cup water.

1 large yellow onion, sauteed in olive oil till golden brown and slightly crispy brown on edges. (caramelize)

4-5 cups vegetable broth

sea salt and pepper to taste

4- 6 tablespoon balsamic vinegar (depending on personal preference)

1 small red cabbage, finely sliced into strips. (reserve)

Add beets, pureed greens and carrots, caramelized onions, veggi broth and sea salt/pepper to large pot and bring to a mild boil. Reduce immediately to a simmer. Cook while stirring occasionally for 15 minutes. Use a potato masher to correct any larger beet chunks a food processor might have missed. Don't over mash. Add the reserved shredded cabbage and balsamic vinegar and continue cooking till cabbage is soft, about 15 minutes. Add another cup of broth or water as desired for consistency. Serve with a dollop of organic sour cream and a sprinkle of green onion and a crusty loaf.

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm!

Just be forewarned. There will be evidence for DAYS...so don't freak out like I did.

{Sorry -- no photo available. Things were just too crazy...}

ADHD Weekly Meds: 4-10-11

I'm pretty sure that my last remaining Revereware pot -- the only one I haven't burned all of the copper off the bottom -- is trying to kill me. That, or I need to drink a lot less coffee before making my oatmeal.

I think being pecked to death by cute little songbirds on my porch a la Suzanne Pleshette would be a way to die that's really worthy of a story. And maybe a State historical event plaque on my front door.

Even though I've lived here nearly a year, I still forget that the hot and cold are switched on my kitchen faucet, so I keep drinking loads of warm water. I may be morphing into a Leadhead. Not to be confused with a Deadhead. Or maybe it's the same.

Confession: When the very rare vehicle pulls up, drives by, or (gasp) honks near my house, I groan very loudly when Burb Dawg barks. Loud enough for whomever it is outside to hear. I'm working on that Grumpy Old Woman In Town designation.

Why did it disturb me to learn that 4 of my neighbors (at least four that I know of) are also drinking a tablespoon of cidar vinegar every day? Even if they're all doing it to "clear up" joint pain?

Word on Whiskey Road is that there's a plethora of demented 'coons being caught. I'd better take care.

[wondering what the heck this is?]

And You Think YOU Have ADHD: Weekly Meditations

Hello, you 100-ish loyal readers (yes, I'm waxing optimistic). It's come to my attention that after a year of blathering about my life here in the Trailer Park, most of you lovely folks are reading me out of not much more than a sheer sense of metta. Nothing wrong at all with metta -- in fact, there should be plenty more of it, we all agree -- but I want more readers. I want readers who read Trailer Park Karma for other reasons, damn it. Like, they think I'm funny (some people do) or they think I have an interesting slant on life (for whatever that's worth) or because they're looking for someone worthy of being included in their will.

At any rate, it's clear that a lot of my ramblings, inspired though they may be at times, are just not clever enough or brief enough to catch the eyeballs of Web-readers who don't already know and love me. Or at least know me.

SO -- I now announce (possibly to the chagrin of The Editor Too) my latest idea to fetch mas lectores (see? I'm bilingual, too): I'm gonna stop entertaining you Facebook lurkers so much and put more on this here blog.

I have a ton (well, not really 2,000 pounds, but they'd add up to more than a ton if weighed together) of Facebook friends. But not so much on the Trailer Park Karma readership. I've tried a few tricks to move people from FB to the blog. Nothin. So, this is my latest attempt and probably the first one I've announced to you guys. The other stuff was subterfuge. Or something like that, but it failed miserably, anyway.

Now, The Editor Too has recently requested I pick up the pace in terms of slinging writing his way. He loves me that way. But I figure one of us is enough to endure hunger and hardship over this blog, so I take care not to bombard him. And that slows down the pace, which we all know can be a blog's death knell. But to publish more blogposts, I gotta move fast, write when the spirit says write, publish when the Internet is working at a steady clip, and unfortunately as a result, leave The Editor Too just a little bit outta the loop -- but only as far as this new idea. (I promise I'm not leaving you, The Editor Too -- just sending the more thought-out stuff your way and publishing some of my hacks more immediately.)

Let's just call it ADHD, okay?

So. Those of you who follow me on Twitter already know that I can really spit and spurt out there. I'm gonna try and do more of that here on the blog. We'll see if others wanna pick up and follow along.

And all of this on a hair more bandwidth than dial-up.

 

Breakfast for When You Wake Up With A Loose Filling Or Some Other Undiagnosed Cause of Extreme Tooth Pain

I woke up really late today, which happens when you go out late at night then spend some more time on the Internet when you come home, and then take an antihistamine to ward off the dreaded cedar fever. So the Methodists only got to see the Buddhamobile in my driveway this morning. (But I hope they noticed the newly-tilled and planted front bed when they were gazing at my house and wondering if I would make an appearance...)

By the time I was ready to eat breakfast, it was lunch time and I had a toothache. A new toothache. Joy. So here's something I like to have when I (a) am too dragged out to cook, (b) am afraid to try actually eating because my tooth hurts and, therefore (c) need pretty substantial nutrition but in the form of stuff that tastes good and is drinkable.

Drink Your Oatmeal

1 cup uncooked oatmeal

1 banana

about 1 cup plain yogurt

about half a cup of peanut butter

one cup of horchata

a long squirt of chocolate syrup

a tablespoon of flaxseed meal

Put oatmeal in blender and pulverize away until it's powdery. (Credit The Editor for that idea.) Add the rest of the ingredients (break up the banana into chunks first to go easy on your po' blender), and blend away until smooth (and yes, it'll be a tad grainy-ish from the oatmeal, but it's good for you).

If you don't know what horchata is, I am so sorry. It's my favorite drink, a Mexican spiced rice beverage. In The Republic, you can get it in a carton at nearly any grocer, but I'm using the powdered version right now. Just add water. If they don't have horchata where you live, you can use a cup of skim milk and cinnamon instead.

That chocolate syrup amount is entirely up to you and how special you're feeling in the morning.

And how about that flaxseed stuff, Mira!?

P.S. - check out the pedicured toes. Nice, huh?? Totally distracts from the swollen veins...

Name That Plant

Okay, all you Garden Smarties. I've had just about enough of my landlord's husband's comments on how "a country girl oughta've planted some squash by now" and my really nice cat-watching neighbor's uncomfortable glance to the ground as she told me about the tomatoes they've already put in...

Apparently people in the country just don't understand how this woman from the burbs gardens. Some of you may recall my fondness for tossing trash recyclable fruit and vegetable refuse into the yard and keepin watch for where it might come up. Maybe I should give it a name and tell them about it like I read it in a book. Like:

God's Will Gardening

Karmic Fruits (& Vegetables)

Letting The Earth Have Her Way

Planting With the Purpose of Being Perpetually Perplexed

Speaking of that last one, here's the point of this blogpost (other than to just crab a bit to someone other than po' Burb Dawg): I'm growing some things that I didn't plant (or even toss out there), and I want you all to pitch in and help me figure out if they're worthy of my laundry water or not.

And no, it's not a contest. This is just a neighborly request. The next time you need something from me that I can do (like analyze how your childhood is still impacting your 'adult' relationships), just holler and I'm there.

What's that plant with the bulby blossom thingy? ^

I think this^ is

a smaller version of these > 

And it may help to know that my landlady has already deemed these 'garlic' but when I pulled one up, it looked more like a thin green onion, although when I ate it, the flavor was really really strong... and I have TONS of these everywhere.

 

And finally (for now)... the little feathery leaves below that come off of long, soft, thin stems in a bunch?