MAKE-DO

I have to admit, I hold back on sharing stories of things my pets do.  Let's be honest, nobody really finds it cute or amusing the way I do and I totally get that.  However, the other day, one of my adorable doggies did something that was just too cute not to share.  (Even if I'm the only one who appreciates it, I'm glad I'll have it in writing somewhere!)  

My German Pointer, like many dogs, is obsessed with carrying around a ball.  When I get home to let my two dogs out, one dog runs out immediately but Jagger, the German Pointer, frantically searches for his ball before heading out.  

The other night I came home late and it was already dark out.  The neighbors were in our shared yard with their two dogs and it was driving Jagger crazy that he wasn't out there, too.  I opened the door and like predictable clock-work, one dog runs out and I stand by the door and wait while Jagger searches for his ball.  He rummaged through the house in an absolute panic.  I knew if I just waited by the door he'd find it eventually.  Sure enough.  Out he runs to greet his friends.  He ran around the yard with his ball and they gleefully chased each other.  Jagger thinks he is so important when he has a ball and others don't.  

As I sat and talked with my neighbor, he would stop his running nonsense and drop the ball at my feet for me to kick.  Not wanting to touch a slobbery, gooey mess, I kicked the ball several times.  After about twenty minutes of our usual game, I noticed that there was something a little "off" about his ball.  So I bent down and picked it up.  That silly dog!  In his frantic efforts to find a ball and join his friends, he had grabbed a peach off of the kitchen counter.  My neighbor and I laughed so hard at this we had tears on our cheeks!  All the while I'm holding the dirty, slobbered on peach and laughing, Jagger is anxiously trying to grab it back out of my hands.  He was so proud of his crafty "make-do" ball!

Several months ago, I embarked on the idea of eating a Raw Foods diet.  In case you are not aware, a raw food diet means that none of the food has been heated above 118 degrees fahrenheit.  You would be surprised to see how difficult it is to find this type of food.  Most nuts are roasted, milks are pasteurized with extreme heat, processed snacks are cooked as well.  The reason Raw Foodists choose to eat raw is typically for one main reason.  Extreme heat (and chemicals) kills off the important nutrition in food.

I never had the plan of "all-or-nothing."  I just simply wanted to cut out some chemicals in my food.  I figured eating raw would be fairly simple for me since I don't remember the last time I used a can opener and I don't even own a microwave.  This idea started when I looked at my almond milk container.  I've always thought I was doing the right thing by drinking almond, soy or coconut milk.  I couldn't believe how much garbage is in a carton of that stuff!  It should be illegal!  Anyway, I dropped into Barnes and Noble and purchased a raw foods book.  Here it is several months, four books, numerous instructional videos and many dollars later and I have learned so much!  I've learned how to dissect a coconut to use the meat for noodles, how to make my own coffee creamer, how many almonds it takes to make a glass of almond milk and how to make my own cold cereal.  One thing I discovered right away with a raw diet is that is is expensive.  Raw nuts, exotic spices and pure oils get pricey.  Furthermore, the necessary tools for this type of eating get expensive as well.  A dehydrator with temperature controls, blender, juicer, food processor, spiral veggie cutter and sprout jars all add up.  Another thing I have learned is to read an entire recipe thoroughly from start to finish before even thinking about creating it.  There's a good chance the ingredients require hours or days of sprouting, hours of dehydrating or lots of marinating time.  I've had some expensive failures.  The raw lasagna was hardly edible, the stuffed avocados were way too spicy and the macadamia nut cheesecake tasted like earth.  However, I've had quite a few successes.

So what's the final word?  I feel absolutely amazing!  My energy levels are amazing.  I very rarely feel tired or groggy during the day.  My overall mood and sense of well-being is fantastic!  Its been worth every dollar and ounce of time I have put into preparing dishes.

If the idea of eating a raw diet is overwhelming, I suggest at least reading labels on food and choosing foods with very little alterations.  Skip the roasted nuts for raw ones.  Learn about a new type of produce every once in a while...think dragon fruit, young thai coconut and kaffir lime.  Throw together your own pasta sauce and avoid cooking it.  I know it sounds crazy...but you'd be surprised how great it tastes sans simmering when fresh herbs are used.  Use dates or honey instead of table sugar.  But if its the only thing you do, try the apple pie recipe!  Its a favorite among my friends:)

Crust:
1 3/4 c almonds
1 Tbs canola oil
5 fresh dates
pinch of nutmeg
2 tsp cinnamon
pinch of salt
1 Tbs honey

Filling:
1 - 2 apples
1 banana
2 dats
1 tsp cinnamon

Garnish:
2-3 apples
cinnamon, to taste

1. Finely chop the nuts in a food processor.
2. Add oil, dates, spices and salt.  Mix.
3. Add the honey and mix to form a dough.
4. Spread the dough out into the bottom of a pie dish.
5. Thoroughly blend the filling ingredients in food processor.  Spread on crust.
6. Garnish with sliced apples and sprinkle with cinnamon.

Living Green

Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. We hear and see it all the time. I have always been an enthusiastic advocate for “going green.” Going green simply refers to making lifestyle choices that will lower your carbon footprint. Some individuals choose to make subtle adjustments in their life to reduce this “footprint,” others are unselfish enough to take very drastic measures. (In downtown Salt Lake, there is a house on the corner of 500 South and 800 East; South-West corner. Completely designed for energy efficient living; very spectacular home!)
I’m writing today to tell you that I am fed up with living green. I want to leave a carbon footprint.
In the fall, I stocked up on a wonderful selection of teas from a popular brand called, Celestial Seasonings. I purchased enough Celestial Seasonings to enjoy a cup of tea every morning for the entire winter. To my disappointment, this tea company no longer uses a string and tag on their tea bags. Why? Celestial Seasonings claims that when they don’t use “strings, tags, staples and individual wrappers, we save more than 3.5 million pounds of waste from entering landfills every year.” Hey look, I can appreciate keeping 3.5 million pounds of rubbish out of landfills annually. But I am so tired of dipping my finger in hot tea to retrieve my tea bag. Therefore, I use a plastic spoon…take that!
Reusable shopping bags. Plastic Bags. Paper Bags. Just the thought makes my blood boil. I carted around reusable shopping bags for a while only to realize that they are nothing more than a germ filled hassle. When I shop at Whole Foods and they ask me if I want a bag, what I really want is to throw a toddler tantrum. If I just spent $75 on 20 items or better, they should throw in a bag. Many stores are now charging you for each bag you receive. Complete poppy cock.
Canteens, reusable mugs, reusable water bottles…not any more. I’m going to use a fresh, disposable bottle each and every time. And while I’m at it, I’m going to write to Arrowhead and Nestle about their stupid new lids. The kind that when you twist them off of the bottle it slices your fingers on the sides. These companies have taken half off of the caps in an effort to cut down on the amount of plastic used.
Paperless billing. The fine folks at Discover Card were actually trying to tell me that by going paperless I save a tree every year. You know what else? By going paperless I also have a difficult time of getting records from previous purchases and proving that a charge didn’t happen. Going paperless also reduces the possibility that I will be going over each bill in detail and businesses know this. So no thank you, Comcast. I want to have the hard copy proof sitting in front of me when you suddenly raise my internet rates.
Hotel towels. This has to be one of the most ridiculous "green excuses" I've ever seen. When I walk into my hotel room and see a small "invitation" to help my planet conserve water by not using all the towels in the room, I want to immediately use every piece of linen I can get my hands on. Does this mean that if a towel was hung up perfectly when the prior guest was in the room then those towels were left alone? I could be using dirty towels? You can bet I will be using each towel and then piling it on the floor.
What it really boils down to is this; all of these companies are cashing in on the “green movement.” They don’t care about their environmental impact. They want to cut off the strings and hoard who they give bags to in an effort to keep a little change in their pockets. Well, I’m done inconveniencing myself. I don’t go “paper-less” with my billing and I receive the Sunday newspaper. I use a fresh paper cup for my tea each morning, paper plates to support sandwiches, drive everywhere in my NON-clean vehicle and I double bag my groceries.

I have learned an important lesson. Before adopting any dog, research the behaviors of their breed. We’ve all checked before obtaining a dog, yes. We verify that Great Danes need a lot of room to lay around. Jack Russells need plenty of exercise. But I’ve learned to REALLY look into what exactly a breed desires and thinks. I adopted Whitney the first week of March knowing that a hunting dog is probably going to need plenty of exercise. What I DIDN’T know is that a hunting dog also needs plenty of HUNTING. Sorry, puppy, but you belong to a vegetarian in the city. Whitney’s desire to hunt is out of control. One of my mom’s chickens is missing a patch of feathers to prove this. Every bird is pointed at as if it’s the only bird in Salt Lake City. Today on a coffee shop patio, Whitney let everyone at the coffee shop know that a small, defenseless bird was in the bushes by pointing and then aggressively destroying the bushes to find the feathered friend. When I finally pulled her out of the bushes, she was so uptight over the altercation, that she was drooling and shaking. When Whitney is off leash, she completely takes off. I’ve had advice from all directions. “Carry treats,” I’ve been told. Are you serious? A hunting dog could care less about a measly biscuit in your pocket when they are all the way on the other side of town chasing that one, silly sparrow. Last week, I finally went against everything I believe in and bought a shock collar. The new lesson I learned? NEVER SAY NEVER. That shock collar is the best thing that ever happened. I was getting so tired of having a dog that takes off no matter what measures are taken to ensure she stays with me. So whether she now listens to me out of fear or love, I could care less at this point.

A Trip to the Water Slide

I remember the excitement I felt as my mother pulled the car into the parking lot. My big brother acted as if we were just going to an everyday event. Not me. This was something I had been looking forward to. This was the event that had been keeping me up at night. We were going to the water slide! I was anxious to get in that giant tube and slide down. Being at the water slide was definitely something special for a five year old. We went inside and into the locker room. My swimming suit was glittery and I planned to gladly show it off. My mother finally got me to stand still long enough for her to put a life jacket on me. Life jacket? Life jackets are for babies! I don't need a life jacket. I'm a born swimmer. Well, it was fastened pretty good and wasn't going anywhere. So I decided to deal with it. Nothing was going to ruin my fun.
I walked out of the locker room with only the bottom of my feet wet. I was anxious to get the rest of me in that water. I met my brother outside of the locker room. He grasped my hand and I took off towards the steps, dragging him behind with a look on his face as if it was his line of duty to entertain me. I didn't think those steps would ever come to an end. When they finally did, I realized that those tubes were huge! I ran to the big opening and my brother sat me in the powerful water. The next thing I knew, I was gracefully sliding over the smooth plastic and warm water was pushing me. I let out a squeal of excitement. But just as soon as I had got in the tube I was being spit out. I couldn't breathe. The forcefulness of the water was pushing me under! What was happening? Where's my brother? I was panicked and my chest felt heavy. I felt a hand grab onto my sparkling swimming suit. I was brought to the surface and I gasped for air. Then a concerned voice came from a big kid I had never seen before.
"Are you okay?" the deep voice asked in a gentle and worried way.
"Uh-huh," I said with a hesitant nod. Didn't he know that I knew how to swim?
I got out of the water, shivering. I looked around to see if anybody had been watching. Then I saw my brother holding out his hand to go up the slide again. Reluctantly, I took it. He wasn't going to know that I had had a problem. We went down a few more times. But for some reason, he went down with me each time after that.

*Author's note: So yes, this really happened. I went to the water slide as a small child and got pushed under the water, back behind the water slide. I couldn't get out and the water kept pushing me under. Some stranger pulled me out! To this day, I think about it. Some guy randomly saved my life! Am I being melodramatic? I think not...who knows what would have happened if he hadn't seen me.

Art Supplies

I grew up with an artist. Knowing nothing about art myself, all of the mysterious art supplies laying around our house fascinated me. The artist, my brother, is five years older than me. When in childhood, that age difference is quite grand. It seemed as if he was so wise and experienced in the ways of the world. I longed to have something to be passionate about the way he was passionate about art.

At ten years old, chin leaning in my hand, I sat and watched him work. “Why don’t you find a hobby doing something YOU like?” he asked optimistically that day. He set me up a work station next to him in his “studio.” I was going to be making Barbie doll clothes. After about 30 minutes of piecing scraps of material together with glue, I gave up.

I longed to touch all of the interesting tools necessary in creating art. I wondered what all of those magical supplies did. I rolled kneaded erasers around in my small hands, wishing that I too, needed this conglomerate matter for something. My curiosity piqued when I saw an open palette of oil paints wrapped carefully in plastic and stashed in the freezer. When I was certain I was alone, I slowly and delicately touched a paint color under the plastic with my little finger. It was soft. How is this soft when it’s been in the freezer? I snooped through sketch books, used the sharpest colored pencils to color, squeezed the paint tubes and sniffed the paint thinner.

“Did you poke my clay?” he asked one day. I crinkled my nose, “Poke your clay?” I repeated back as if I was insulted. “I’m going to ask you one more time,” he said. “Did you poke my clay?”

About a month ago, I signed up for an art class. Upon receiving the list of necessary items for the upcoming lessons, I set aside a specific time to visit the art supply store. This was special! I would be going into this store and actually be needing the items for myself. Finally! Kneaded erasers galore! Shopping was divine. I tested different paints, tickled my arm with paint brushes, smelled the wood of easels and scratched my fingernails on stretched canvas. And yes, I poked the clay.

McDonald's? Yes.

I worked at McDonald's. It's true. This isn't a trick. I'm not secretly talking about McDonald's Insurance or McDonald's Appraisal. I'm talking about McDonald's as in Big Macs and Happy Meals.

Training was held down in the basement of an old hotel. Video upon video was watched, we were sized for our uniform and speakers shared their motivational experiences. We were then herded out the doors with a positive perspective that somehow, we were now going to be making the world a better place just by getting drive through orders correct.

I arrived around 2:45pm for my first day of working in Ronald McDonald Land. I was pleasantly happy that my shift began in the late afternoon; allowing me to sit and wait for it all day long. After having the intensive training in the basement, I was ready. I knew what to do and I was eager to get started. I punched in by holding my time card just as I was shown and then headed up to the front counter. As soon as I stepped up to the hi-tech register, I was bombarded by McCustomers ready to eat. Carefully, I pressed in their orders and stared back at them through my McVisor to make sure they were finished. Their money was taken, change was counted back. I turned around and picked up their food, placed it on the tray and managed an artificial smile. So it went. Order after order. I was busy. Between orders, ketchup packets were to be stocked out front, tables wiped off, trays collected. But the real enjoyment didn't come until my 15 minute break. I watched in complete fascination as food was prepared. I watched as hamburger patties were squeezed and plopped out of a tube. Everything was down to a science. From the mustard pre-programmed to squeeze the perfect amount to the pickles which looked like carbon copies. Never before had I seen so many pickle slices that were the exact same shape and size. How is this possible? Have you ever seen hundreds of cucumbers that are the exact same size and shape? I examined as chicken nuggets were dunked into the fryer. I watched as french fries were salted in the very way we were shown on a VHS tape. "It's easy to get the perfect amount of salt on our french fries. Simply turn the salt shaker to pour out the salt while your arm moves to create a giant M!"

At the end of my break, I was assigned to work at the window. The McCrew did a great job of completely bagging the orders for me so that all I had to do was throw in the condiments and accessories to enjoy a great meal. I patiently watched as recipients of those stuffed brown bags rummaged through the contents to be sure I wasn't lying about what was in there. Sometimes I'd receive a preoccupied, "thanks", other times, nothing more than an eyebrow raise.

My shift was finally nearing the finish line. I was handed a McBroom and directed to the dining area to begin cleaning up. Once that task was finished, I wheeled out a bucket of stinky suds with a mop. I squeezed the mop out and plopped it on the floor. "People do this for years...." I thought to myself. Plop and mop. Plop and mop. I worked slowly and lost myself in thoughts of something better. I leaned on the mop handle as I watched a McCoworker empty the sloppy trash. "Let's get done so we can get out of here," my manager enthusiastically cheered. I plopped and mopped a bit faster as I imagined getting home and stepping into a hot shower to wash off the sin of the work day.

I arrived at work the very next day at the very same time. I punched in the same way, took orders the same way and watched the food preparation the same way on my same break time. My lips pierced together and my eyes wide, I giggled inside while watching the "chef" scratch his arm before grabbing a McBun. The pickles were still the same shape and fries were still salted in the shape of a giant 'M.' At the end of my long day of observation, I again plopped and mopped.

The third day I watched as the afternoon approached. My shift, as previously, began at 3 pm. 3'Oclock came and went. 4'Oclock. The phone rings and I smile as if I sell used cars and walk out the front door while it continues to ring. I had a great afternoon swimming and relaxing. When I finally check my messages, no questions were asked. I was instructed to bring in my uniform and pick up my paycheck. Early the next day, I walked into McDonald's with a slight smirk. A check was handed to me and I handed back my folded clothes. "Here's my costume," I said flatly.

I sat back in my car satisfied that I may now scratch "work in a fast food chain" off my list of things to try out. I opened my check. "$32.00!," I exclaimed. "Oh, KariAnn! What are you going to do with all that money?"