The Lisa Life

Orange Beef And Rice

The first night we moved into our new place, we had no Internet access and no cable.  I had of course forgotten to grab the book I was currently reading, so I asked my mother-in-law if she had any magazines she was done with that I could amuse myself with.  She gave me three copies of Family Circle, not my favorite, but I was desperate. 

Some good did come out of it, as I found a really tasty recipe I of course completely bastardized.

Orange Beef And Rice

1 Tablespoon Oil

1 Pound Stir Fry Beef (I used the very thinly sliced top round and cut it into bite size pieces)

1 Small White onion, diced

2 Cloves Garlic, diced

1 Cup Shredded Carrots

1 Package Wild And White Rice Mix (I used Uncle Ben's)

1 Cup Orange Juice

1 Cup Beef Broth

Red Pepper Flakes

Briefly heat oil in large, deep pot over medium-high heat.  Add beef and onion.  Cook, stirring frequently, for 5 minutes.  Add garlic, red pepper flakes and carrots.  Cook for another 5 minutes.  Add rice pilaf mix (including seasoning packet), orange juice and beef broth.  Bring to a boil.  Reduce heat and simmer, covered, for 20 minutes or until liquid has been absorbed.

If you want to get all fancy when serving, add some orange slices.

Speaking In Tongues

I had a call this afternoon about a job.  The gentleman who called apologized for calling on a Sunday afternoon during a holiday week-end but said he had been swamped at work and was using the time to get some work done without the normal week-day interruptions.  Fine with me, gave me a break from housework.

The job is for an all-around Gal Friday position for a contractor.  The gentleman I spoke with was the client's accountant and the position is being created on the advice of said accountant.  He said he received over 60 resumes and picked out five to call and do a little preliminary talking with.  I was one of the five and indeed, he said I was his first pick since I had experience in a small office working with a contractor.

This particular contractor is located in Whitmore Lake, very near the W.J. Maxey's Boys Training School (locals will find this fact humorous).  The contractor installs carpet for all of the stores in a very large nationwide bookstore chain. 

Since there are certain laws regarding what you can ask a job applicant and what a job applicant can reasonably ask, often these conversations are spoken in tongue, just as this one was.  Without actually asking me, and without me actually baldly stating it, the accountant and I managed to convey that I don't have a problem working with a lot of men in a frat like atmosphere, I can fit in and be "one of the boys", I've got a backbone, I have a family which indicates stability, I am organized and intelligent enough to run a small one or two person office with little to no supervision and keep things going smoothly and yes, I will say shit from time to time. 

After our little non-conversation, the accountant, who actually had a good sense of humor for a bean counter, asked me if I would be interested in the position and would I like to come in for an interview.  Of course I said yes,  so send happy thoughts this Friday at 2.

Dinner At The In-Laws

My father-in-law Peter is one of my favorite people on earth.  He is fun, well read, and I'm his eye apple.  Since he had the quadruple bypass, the only vice he has left is food.  And he sure enjoys eating.  He watches all the cooking shows and loves to read cookbooks and cooking magazines.  In fact, he renewed my Food & Wine subscription for me. 

Not that Peter actually cooks much.  It's more like he watches and reads these things and picks things out for me to cook that he wants to eat.  It's rather charming.  I'm generally very happy to cook whatever he chooses while he keeps me company in the kitchen.  He doesn't help me cook, he generally sits at the table and I bring him Buckler's non-alcoholic beer in a frosted glass and we chat while I cook.  I enjoy this time with him tremendously.

A couple of days ago, Peter stopped by for a cuppa because my mother-in-law was getting on his last nerve. The residual joys of retirement, too much togetherness and my mother-in-law, while I love her to death, is a fusser.  She must always be doing something.  She doesn't understand the concept of relaxing whatsoever. 

Anyway.

Peter stopped over and I made a pot of tea and we chatted for a bit.  Somehow, we got on the subject of chicken and dumplings.  I do love chicken and dumplings and this is really sad, but the ones I liked best were the ones we used to get at the caf at Lehigh.  And they were really chicken and biscuits.  With that awful neon yellow chicken gravy.  But it was so good. 

This afternoon, Peter and Margaret stopped by and asked us over for dinner.  Peter was making chicken and dumplings.  Real dumplings.  Big soft doughy lumps with a thick chicken stew with lots of thick broth, carrots and peas and potatoes.

It was wonderful.  Apple and mince pie with ice cream for dessert. 

After dinner, Martin and I went downstairs to the "smoking area" and Peter joined us and it occurred to me that I need to spend some quality time with my father-in-law, who is like a father to me, not only because my father is gone.  We have a lot of common interests outside of cooking and eating, one of which is art.  He's a fairly good artist and we both appreciate color and texture and like decorating rooms. 

I am so lucky that I have in-laws I can not only tolerate, but that I actually love and enjoy spending time with.  They aren't going to be around forever, so I think I need to make more of an effort to spend quality time with them.

Housecleaning The Blog

Writing a blog takes a certain level of dedication, discipline and creativity.  Trying to find something interesting that makes your readers want to return is sometimes difficult and sometimes damn near impossible, especially on a daily basis.

I have a wide variety of interests and my sis accuses me of being "all over the place" on my blog.  Mind you, that doesn't stop her from reading it. (Hi Sandi, love you!  And you are just as all over the place as me, so shut the hell up!)

If something intrigues me enough, I will happily research it and figure it out and write about it.  I like to write.  I think it's something I can be good at and when I'm good, I'm pretty damn good.  I wouldn't have the return readership I do if I couldn't string together a sentence and make it amusing or interesting in some way.

I recently went through a rough time in my life and I blogged about it.  These posts have since been removed because although they were cathartic and therapeutic then, I'm moving forward and I want my blog to reflect that.

Although I receive a fair amount of comments on my blog, I also have received many many emails off the blog regarding entries I've written that have touched readers in one way or another.  The most common of these regard cold criminal cases, adoption and the history of the county I live in. 

I've done some housecleaning on the blog and swept away some things that, although they were timely when I wrote them, do not reflect my feelings so much now.  And no, I didn't take them down because I am "ashamed" or "embarrassed" or they "were not a real reflection of my writing ability".  I took them down because it's time to move forward in a positive manner.  I'm a survivor and and a problem solving type of person and it's time for me to move past that.

I have two offline writing projects I am working on and I intend to get much more serious about them both and devote more time to them.  I also intend to get more serious about my blog (which I am already quite serious about and rather proud of) and try to post something at least every other day.

Dear and gentle readers, I will always entertain suggestions for subject matter, as well.  And I'd like to say thank you to everyone who lurks, comments, or reads.  Even those of you who hate me, if nothing else, you are driving up my site meter.  NOTE: Asshat, if you don't like something, don't read it again.  Pretty simple concept, isn't it?

Crash

Crash is a film by Paul Haggis (of the Million Dollar Baby fame) that deals with a group of people in Los Angeles whose lives cross in a variety of ways over the course of 36 hours.

It has that seven degrees of separation feel like Robert Altman's brilliant 1993 film Shortcuts, but with a twist.

They are all racially diverse and are facing their fears, misconceptions and stereotypes about people who are "different".

Huge cast including Sandra Bullock, Don Cheadle, Matt Dillon, Jennifer Espositio, William Fichtner, Brendan Fraiser (as LA County DA? WTH?), Terrence Howard, "Ludicris" ( Chris Bridges), Ryan Phillipe, Thandy Newton, Larenz Tate and Michael Pena.

I won't give away all the plot twists because really, this movie is something of a public service announcement regarding our collective human condition in this nation and I encourage you to watch it.  Sandra Bullock has a scene toward the end that brought tears to my eyes.  Michael Pena is just the hapless alarm install guy who is just a blue collar guy trying to provide for his family, and Don Cheadle is, as always, incredibly deft.  Ludacris, although I couldn't name one song he's done, is a pretty good actor.

Powerful moving stuff that will make you realize, we are all have fears and misconceptions and stereotypes about class and race and sometimes, to face those and let them go, you have to realize we are all members of the human race.

The Michigan Heart Gallery

http://www.michigan.gov/dhs/0,1607,7-124--130317--,00.html

Tell me this won't break your heart.

Hot Flash Tips

I went through premature menopause at the age of 31.  It was non-surgical menopause, caused by other health issues I had at the time and the treatment I received for them.  I experienced very bad hot flashes, headaches to the migraine level, fatigue and a few other fun things.

My doctor put me on hormone replacement therapy.  I gladly accepted the prescription because I was very uncomfortable most of the time.  It took about a year to finally find a formula that worked for me.  I still had occasional hot flashes and migraines and eventually, the doctor figured out I might actually have a mild form of chronic fatigue syndrome.

I didn't think a thing about all the side effects of the HRT.  I felt better.  Not the same as before, but improved. 

After five years on the HRT, before my annual exam, one of my friends and I were discussing her elderly grandmother, who had just suffered a debilitating stroke.  Her grandmother had taken HRT for over 20 years.  My friend's mother was a pharmacist and was convinced that considering some of the new studies that were emerging about HRT and the risk of stroke, the two were related for her mother.

At my exam, I discussed the long range effects of HRT.  The doctor was a bit surprised, as I don't really question much, I'm more the type of patient that says, "Can you make this go away? Eye of newt, sure, that'll be fine." 

As a result, I stopped talking HRT.  The only symptoms I still have are the awful hot flashes.  An occasional headache and I still think I suffer a mild case of chronic fatigue syndrome but that's what tanning beds and caffeine were invented for.

When I left the doctors office, she gave me a pamphlet that outlined a holistic approach to combating hot flashes.  And trust me, if you've never had a hot flash, they suck.  It feels like you are on fire from the inside out.  Generally, mine come at night and I wake up in a sweat.  Which then leads to chills, since my body doesn't naturally cool down eventually, I go from scorching hot to chilly.  When I first started getting hot flashes, I got them all the time, day and night.  My coworkers would get alarmed because I would turn bright red and flushed from my face all the way down my neck, hands and arms. 

Anyway.  This happy little pamphlet listed things to avoid to help cut down on hot flashes.

*Caffeine

*Wine, particularly red

* Diet soda

*Cheese

*Nicotine

Damn.  All my favorite hobbies.  Apparently, all of those allegedly contribute to hot flashes, although it wasn't really clear how, since it's not understood how hot flashes begin, over than being hormonal.

If I ever wrote a handy dandy pamphlet concerning hot flashes, I would include the following:

Always sleep in cotton nightwear.  It breathes.  Satin may be sexy and feel good, but it gets downright clammy. 

Wear only one sock to bed at night.  That way, when you have a hot flash, you can stick the sockless foot out and feel instant relief.  Sleeping with the window open in January in Michigan is not always a good idea if you want a happy marriage.

The PMS tea seems to help.  The expensive RemIFem over the counter herbal stuff did nothing for me, even after taking it for 3 months.  I've tried some other herbal remedies and didn't find they helped.

Efflexor is your friend.  Repeat after me. Efflexor is your friend.  Amazing what swirling your hormones can do to you mentally.

Drink lots of water or Gatorade.  This seems to help flush it out.  Plus, I always seem to feel thirsty now and I'm not diabetic.  I do limit myself to one Diet Coke a day if I am drinking pop.  I often drink iced tea instead of pop.

I'm not much help here, am I?

Random Notes

Isn't it annoying when blogs that you regularly read don't update regularly?  I'd never do that!

*****

My husband has started his own blog, One If By Land, Two If By Sea.  Check it out so he doesn't feel so alone.  Yeah, I'm not into the Patrick O'Brian stuff either, nor C.S. Forester.  Hey, at least he's not reading Clive Kussler or that other guy, who does all the CIA government intrigue type books.  Harrison Ford stars in all the movies.  That guy.  (Husband just informed me, it's Tom Clancy.)

*****

I sent a resume to a local company that was looking for a payroll specialist.  I received a reply back in the form of a four page questionnaire that required essay type answers.  It took me an hour and a half to complete it.  I returned it a week ago today.  I had heard no response whatsoever so today I sent them a polite but pointed email asking if they had scheduled interviews or if the position had been filled.  Still no response.

Sorry, but I just think it is incredibly rude for employers to do this.  At the very least, send out a mass email to all the applicants and let them know the position has been filled.  Common courtesy.

*****

It went from being late Indian Summer here to winter in two days.  We had a couple days this month of over 70 degree weather and today it was in the twenties and I had on my winter coat.  We've even had a few snow flurries, although no accumulation.  Best thing about this winter?  I don't have to deal with the damn snowplowing scheduling.

*****

Sam Update

This picture is specifically for Amanda.

It was taken the day Martin and I had our "formal" wedding, versus the wedding in front of the judge with all the jail inmates awaiting their hearings, lounging in their orange jumpsuits and handcuffs watching.  Hey, they all applauded after, and what could be more appropriate for a death hag like me?

Anyway.  Here is Sam in his full dress uniform with all his medals and campaign ribbons and such (which is he very modest about) and here's Martin in his tailcoat.  And the ill-concealed ever present crack filled Newport.

It is likely Sam is going to be sent to Korea for his tour of duty.  My relief at his not going to the Middle East, which would have been his third tour of duty there, is palatable.  As is his mom's.  I hate this war (have I mentioned this before?) but I love our troops. 

As always, keep Sam and all of our troops in your thoughts and prayers and wish them Godspeed.

A Little Light Reading

The Lost Children Of Wilder: The Epic Struggle to Change Foster Care, by Nina Bernstein, Vintage Books, pub.

Nina Bernstein is a reporter for the New York Times.  In 1994, she started researching material for a series of articles about foster care in New York City and in particular, the landmark Wilder case for New York Newsday. 

This series of articles was eventually expanded into a book and was a National Book Award Finalist.

In 1973, a brash young ACLU attorney named Marcia Lowry filed a controversial class action lawsuit that challenged NYC's foster care system on the basis of First Amendment Rights (the separation of church and state) and Fourteenth Amendment Rights ( the guarantee of equal protection). 

For well over a hundred years, NYC had contracted out their foster care for children to private, mostly religious agencies.  These agencies had control of nearly all of the available foster care beds and accepted children based on race and religion, rather than on the ability of the facility or the foster care parents to serve the children's needs.  Jewish and Catholic agencies dominated the foster care industry and gave preference to their own kind.  Only grudgingly did they accept children outside their parameters and it took a lot of browbeating and threats to get them to accept children they had the ability to help.  Black Protestant children were the lowest on the rung and sometimes waited months in squalid city owned shelters meant to be used short term.  Keep in mind, most of these religious agencies were not charitable organizations.  They were for-profit and indeed did very well with the payment arrangements from the city.

Ms. Lowry chose Shirley Wilder as the "face" for her class action lawsuit.  Shirley first came into care as a motherless black girl, twelve years old, with a neglectful abusive common law stepmother and a largely indifferent alcoholic father.  She had a history of running away. She had a history of acting out.  Shirley went through many placements in institutions that were more like reform schools, less like therapeutic settings.  She never received the treatments she needed to address her issues of abandonment.  She had been sexually molested, neglected, abused and thrown out like so much trash.  At fourteen, she became pregnant, giving birth to a son.  Since there were no facilities available to a poor black girl in foster care to care for her own son, her son entered the same system.  Her son Lamont, was placed with a foster family and arrangements were made for Shirley to maintain visits with him.  This was a bit difficult, since Lamont was in NYC and Shirley was living in a facility 100 miles up the Hudson River.  It should be noted that Lamont's long time foster parents were never offered an opportunity to adopt him.  His foster mother was Puetro Rican, his foster father Haitian, descended from a long line of light-skinned mulattos who had long dominated the impoverished Haitian Islands. In the nearly four years Lamont was in their care and a part of their family, adoption was never discussed, even though his foster parents were more than willing to adopt him and he viewed them as his parents.  Why?  Because of race.

The Lost Children Of Wilder traces this two and half decade old lawsuit as well as Shirley and Lamont's eventual outcomes. 

I am astounded to realize that as recently as the mid 70s, foster care placement was based on religion and race and not the needs of a child.  So many children were ruined by this clear violation of the First and Fourteenth Amendments.  Shirley and her son Lamont were both victims of this system.

This was also the time frame when transracial adoptions were rare and discouraged. The reasoning behind this eludes me.  So, it's better to leave a child in foster care limbo or in an institutional setting because of the color of their skin?  And no adoptive parents of the same ethnic background were actively recruited?  Stunning.  Nearly all of the children in foster care at that time were never offered for adoption.  Equally stunning.  At 18, when they timed out of the system, many of them were just shown the door and ended up on the street.  Homeless.  Without family or job skills.

I commend Marica Lowry, that young idealistic ACLU attorney for taking on this case and putting a face to the nameless children who were lost in this horrible bigoted shuffle.  She sued and subsequently pissed off every child care official in the city of New York.  It took over 25 years, but changes were made.

Sadly, they were not made soon enough to save Shirley or her son Lamont from their future.

Excellent writing by Nina Bernstein.  Not for readers who want fluff.  This is a dense, no- holds-barred look at a seriously flawed system that flourished for decades.

Bottom line?  All about the money.  Not about the children who so desperately needed help nor the reunification of families or building new forever families.  These private agencies were paid a lot of money by NYC and made a tidy profit on the backs of these abandoned children.

Reading this makes me think once again, I should have taken an MSW (master's in social work) or become an attorney just so I could fight for the rights of children, who have so few people on their side when they enter the foster care system.

Excellent book.