So I need your help here. I bought these frozen spinach pancakes because they looked like a low fat, lower calorie version of spinach souffle. Problem is you have to broil them. I do not have a broiler. I know, I do have an oven, but I refuse to leave the door open a crack at 500 degrees. First of all, that's just wasteful. Secondly, look at the photos near the bottom of the page...4 doggies + open oven = not good. I swear I can still smell burning cocker spaniel hair whenever I turn on the gas stove in the tiki bar. (We have a weird house, surprised?!) Thank goodness that was in the winter time and all I had to do was open the door onto the deck and set his smoldering arse in the snow.
My question is, what am I looking for in a toaster oven/broiler that will be a nice, multi-purpose addition to my cooking arsenal, and worth its width in valuable counter space? I've never owned this particular appliance, so I have no idea whether to go with the cheapest thing I can find, or to invest in something more expensive. This reminds me of having to finally get off the fidelity-vs-sound debate fence back in the 1990s and buy a CD player because the new Lenny Kravitz recording was so awesome. That turned out okay for me. So I hope you'll help me find a happy ending for my toaster oven story so I can free those poor little green disks from my freezer. (See, it kind of relates.)
Tell me your good and bad experiences, those of you who have blazed this culinary trail before me. (I wonder why I never got a TO/B as a wedding present?) Comment here and help a girl get her iron on!!
Saturday, April 30, 2011
Why cockeyed?
Have you ever wondered why I call this blog "cockeyed susan"? I look at it this way...nope, that's all. That's the reason in a nutshell: I look at it this way. And with my propensity to employ the pun whenever possible added to the fact that my name is Susan, I put wildflower with wit power and tah-dah! I think I should add a picture of an upside down black-eyed susan with a creepy face for a center; my own weird little logo if you will.
Speaking of cockeyed, whaddaya think of that wedding royale? I jest, of course. Anything the late Alexander McQueen's house designs is just the tops with me. He was a brilliant designer. I think if I wasn't busy being a writer and mom and whatnot I'd want to be a fashion designer. Oh hell, who am I kidding. If I wasn't busy watching TV and staring into this magic box I'd...uh-huh. I liked the Austin Powers moment in the tiny toy car, too. Though I think for myself the Rolls KM arrived in would do better; we have a lot of high-profile vehicles around here so I'd prefer to be high-profile as well.
On a much more important topic, I really hope the best for all of those touched by the wretched storms last week. While the folks I know in that neck of the woods seem to have been spared the worst of things, I certainly feel for those who did not come out so lucky. My thoughts are with those surviving and not, and all the people, places, and things that they love. I cannot begin to comprehend what so many are facing, will face in the days ahead. May they all find a certain peace that helps them through.
Speaking of cockeyed, whaddaya think of that wedding royale? I jest, of course. Anything the late Alexander McQueen's house designs is just the tops with me. He was a brilliant designer. I think if I wasn't busy being a writer and mom and whatnot I'd want to be a fashion designer. Oh hell, who am I kidding. If I wasn't busy watching TV and staring into this magic box I'd...uh-huh. I liked the Austin Powers moment in the tiny toy car, too. Though I think for myself the Rolls KM arrived in would do better; we have a lot of high-profile vehicles around here so I'd prefer to be high-profile as well.
On a much more important topic, I really hope the best for all of those touched by the wretched storms last week. While the folks I know in that neck of the woods seem to have been spared the worst of things, I certainly feel for those who did not come out so lucky. My thoughts are with those surviving and not, and all the people, places, and things that they love. I cannot begin to comprehend what so many are facing, will face in the days ahead. May they all find a certain peace that helps them through.
This Week's Challenge
Check out the new, writerly question this week. Think you can master it? Add a comment to this or any other of this week's posts to enter yourself for the chance to win a brand new prize!
As always if you just want to record your guess in the poll feel free, but I cannot deliver on my prize package without your lovely comment. FIRST CORRECT ANSWER WINS!!
Best of luck and thanks in advance for playing.
As always if you just want to record your guess in the poll feel free, but I cannot deliver on my prize package without your lovely comment. FIRST CORRECT ANSWER WINS!!
Best of luck and thanks in advance for playing.
Contest and Poll Results
Okay, so no one officially entered last week's contest, but a few of you played along with the poll.
Those of you who guessed (c), that I am not in fact afraid of heights, were correct. Those of you who know me well do know that I am, however, terrified of widths. Congrats to you both. And whoever guessed (a) spiders...sorry. While I do try to capture and release them if at all possible, I am still creeped out by the sight of them. Except Grandaddy Longlegs of course, as they are good luck and quite sweet.
Those of you who guessed (c), that I am not in fact afraid of heights, were correct. Those of you who know me well do know that I am, however, terrified of widths. Congrats to you both. And whoever guessed (a) spiders...sorry. While I do try to capture and release them if at all possible, I am still creeped out by the sight of them. Except Grandaddy Longlegs of course, as they are good luck and quite sweet.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Left and Write
So today, kiddies, we're gonna hear Miss Sue wax on about politics...
I am so proud of President. I just use the one word as an expression of respect. I cannot believe how many folks and news outlets just refer to President by his last name. It always strikes the wrong chord in my ears.
And unless it was to refer to a specific program--the Bush Tax Cuts--I don't recall this happening with the forty-third U.S. president. (And I hate to bring that up so partisanly, that's just how I recall it is all.)
I have been a political beast almost as long as I've been writing. I went to a local Democratic County Convention when I was a pre-teen and it was thrilling. The late Senator Robert Byrd was there and even played his fiddle for us all. I got to meet Robert Mann, at the time, my favorite local pol. Years later, in my twenties, I shook Ernest Holling's hand...and proudly proclaimed: "This is the hand that shook the hand of Ernest Hollings!"
I worked for Tom Harkin when he ran for the presidency. Before that, I made a scrapbook of President Carter's campaign season. Before that, my mother referred to John Fitzgerald Kennedy simply as President. That's where I get it from, I suppose.
I campaigned for John Kerry, and spent four long days sick as hell when he lost. And I know many others who suffered the same fate whether they got drunk and impersonated Howard Dean while atop a table at a hotel Kerry party or not.
Back in my journalism days, I had the great honor of spending a day escorting/interviewing the lovely late Senator Paul Simon of Illinois around central South Carolina as he campaigned. I have a terrific photograph of him we took at a festival where Mr. Peanut showed up. Senator Simon was a very warm and delightful companion that day. We should miss the likes of him.
I slung banners across my yard in 2008, put (and still have) bumper stickers on my cars, and even got my folks to re-register and vote for our wonderful President Obama. I will do so again. (Disclaimer: I've moved during the first term and need to re-register myself in my home state.)
My dad tells the story of his dad (died long before I was thought about) going around the depression-era South listening to all the stump speeches. I'll bet that was grand. I'll bet we'd have a lot to talk about. I'll bet that politics is in my blood.
So other than the obvious, who are my heroes today? In no particular order: Bernie Sanders, Barney Franks, Barbara Boxer, Jim Clyburn, Jerry Brown, to name but a few. Who do I miss the most (whom I haven't already mentioned)? Barbara Jordan, Paul Wellstone, Ann Richards, Hubert Humphrey, Adlai Stevenson (though I wasn't exactly his contemporary), J. Patrick Moynahan, and others. I'll never forget the keynote speech Barbara Jordan made at the Democratic National Convention. As soon as she was done, my mother turned to me and said, "Now THAT is how you speak." She was brilliant was Barbara Jordan, and she had that voice, that commanding voice. To me it is the iconic female voice to take into consideration when one has a character who must speak in a tone to be reckoned with. (My male character vocal love affair is with the late and so loved, Charles Kuralt.) I'll tell my Charles Kuralt story in another post when the time seems well-chosen.
I love politics. Not that I don't question, complain, get disappointed, get dismayed, rage often...I do. But I just love everything from the feel of the green felt desks in Constitution Hall to the topic of debate on Morning Joe. I love the history and the game. It always lures me in and shows me who I am and who I want to be.
In sixth grade I made my favorite thing, my best work other than kids and books and love. I made a huge diorama of Colonial Williamsburg. It was so big I had to store it perched atop my canopy bed frame. I remember carving sponge bushes for the Governor's Garden. I remember all the sunny yellows and bright whites of the buildings. That thing was fantastic and I wish I had it still.
I love politics. I am a political wonk. I love how alive it makes me feel to think. My political interests make up a big part of my personality. Politicians may be foolish, may be affronts to the honor of the offices they hold. But politics is our history and our important national salon.
As Robert Redford said in "The Candidate": "Vote once, vote twice, but vote for the candidate of your choice." I just love that Mike Barnacle was in that movie....
I am so proud of President. I just use the one word as an expression of respect. I cannot believe how many folks and news outlets just refer to President by his last name. It always strikes the wrong chord in my ears.
And unless it was to refer to a specific program--the Bush Tax Cuts--I don't recall this happening with the forty-third U.S. president. (And I hate to bring that up so partisanly, that's just how I recall it is all.)
I have been a political beast almost as long as I've been writing. I went to a local Democratic County Convention when I was a pre-teen and it was thrilling. The late Senator Robert Byrd was there and even played his fiddle for us all. I got to meet Robert Mann, at the time, my favorite local pol. Years later, in my twenties, I shook Ernest Holling's hand...and proudly proclaimed: "This is the hand that shook the hand of Ernest Hollings!"
I worked for Tom Harkin when he ran for the presidency. Before that, I made a scrapbook of President Carter's campaign season. Before that, my mother referred to John Fitzgerald Kennedy simply as President. That's where I get it from, I suppose.
I campaigned for John Kerry, and spent four long days sick as hell when he lost. And I know many others who suffered the same fate whether they got drunk and impersonated Howard Dean while atop a table at a hotel Kerry party or not.
Back in my journalism days, I had the great honor of spending a day escorting/interviewing the lovely late Senator Paul Simon of Illinois around central South Carolina as he campaigned. I have a terrific photograph of him we took at a festival where Mr. Peanut showed up. Senator Simon was a very warm and delightful companion that day. We should miss the likes of him.
I slung banners across my yard in 2008, put (and still have) bumper stickers on my cars, and even got my folks to re-register and vote for our wonderful President Obama. I will do so again. (Disclaimer: I've moved during the first term and need to re-register myself in my home state.)
My dad tells the story of his dad (died long before I was thought about) going around the depression-era South listening to all the stump speeches. I'll bet that was grand. I'll bet we'd have a lot to talk about. I'll bet that politics is in my blood.
So other than the obvious, who are my heroes today? In no particular order: Bernie Sanders, Barney Franks, Barbara Boxer, Jim Clyburn, Jerry Brown, to name but a few. Who do I miss the most (whom I haven't already mentioned)? Barbara Jordan, Paul Wellstone, Ann Richards, Hubert Humphrey, Adlai Stevenson (though I wasn't exactly his contemporary), J. Patrick Moynahan, and others. I'll never forget the keynote speech Barbara Jordan made at the Democratic National Convention. As soon as she was done, my mother turned to me and said, "Now THAT is how you speak." She was brilliant was Barbara Jordan, and she had that voice, that commanding voice. To me it is the iconic female voice to take into consideration when one has a character who must speak in a tone to be reckoned with. (My male character vocal love affair is with the late and so loved, Charles Kuralt.) I'll tell my Charles Kuralt story in another post when the time seems well-chosen.
I love politics. Not that I don't question, complain, get disappointed, get dismayed, rage often...I do. But I just love everything from the feel of the green felt desks in Constitution Hall to the topic of debate on Morning Joe. I love the history and the game. It always lures me in and shows me who I am and who I want to be.
In sixth grade I made my favorite thing, my best work other than kids and books and love. I made a huge diorama of Colonial Williamsburg. It was so big I had to store it perched atop my canopy bed frame. I remember carving sponge bushes for the Governor's Garden. I remember all the sunny yellows and bright whites of the buildings. That thing was fantastic and I wish I had it still.
I love politics. I am a political wonk. I love how alive it makes me feel to think. My political interests make up a big part of my personality. Politicians may be foolish, may be affronts to the honor of the offices they hold. But politics is our history and our important national salon.
As Robert Redford said in "The Candidate": "Vote once, vote twice, but vote for the candidate of your choice." I just love that Mike Barnacle was in that movie....
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Up to Write Now...
Do you think those of us who tend to get our ideas in the middle of the night (or perhaps we have the ideas just not the necessary mojo) and get up to work with them are choosing creation over dreams? Do we either get it out or force it into our subconscious by hitting the snooze button that activates the dream state?
I dunno. It's early; I'm just thinking.
And if, when we don't get up to write it down, draw it, plan it, or whatever else you do with whatever your idea requires, then will it keep screaming at us in dreams until we do, or does it just go away crying at the lack of attention it gets?
Still dunno.
But this troubles me: If our great ideas are either acted on now or acted out in our dreams later, what are we supposed to be up doing when we have the falling dream? I had an old pal back in the record store days, who thought that "natural causes" deaths were what happened to people who did not wake up before hitting bottom in the falling dream. Makes sense to me.
But then again, it's the middle of the damned night!
I dunno. It's early; I'm just thinking.
And if, when we don't get up to write it down, draw it, plan it, or whatever else you do with whatever your idea requires, then will it keep screaming at us in dreams until we do, or does it just go away crying at the lack of attention it gets?
Still dunno.
But this troubles me: If our great ideas are either acted on now or acted out in our dreams later, what are we supposed to be up doing when we have the falling dream? I had an old pal back in the record store days, who thought that "natural causes" deaths were what happened to people who did not wake up before hitting bottom in the falling dream. Makes sense to me.
But then again, it's the middle of the damned night!
Monday, April 25, 2011
NEW FEATURE TODAY!
<---------Lookie here, we have a contest! Every week I will post a contest open to one and all who are not Randy nor Keri. Enter to win an original poem written for you by me. (Keep it clean, people.)
The contest will be open all week, and will close next weekend. If no one wins or (weep, weep) enters, then I will STILL do a new contest every week until someone does! Think of it as a fun way to get to know me and a cool way to give a weird gift to a friend or yourself.
So get in it and win it. I will keep my electronic pencil sharp for you.
The contest will be open all week, and will close next weekend. If no one wins or (weep, weep) enters, then I will STILL do a new contest every week until someone does! Think of it as a fun way to get to know me and a cool way to give a weird gift to a friend or yourself.
So get in it and win it. I will keep my electronic pencil sharp for you.
Climate, Change!
We cannot buy snow. We can't lease it, try it on for size, give it a test drive, nor win it in a raffle.
It will not snow. Ever.
In my high and dry neck of the woods, we used to get an average of over 100 inches of snow per season. I recall years with multiple blizzards, when it used to fall by the foot. Know what our biggest snowfall has been this "winter"? Four inches. Four lousy inches. My parents back South got nearly twice that in one snowfall. My friends on the central California coast saw their mountains get a five-incher. We have had a total this winter of about 12-14 inches.
A few years ago when I was living in Cali, I did not miss snow. And when the time came to return to the Rockies, I told my hubs that I would never drive in snow again as I had officially become a Californian. It didn't take. I MISS SNOW! WE NEED SNOW! All winter NOAA has been calling for snowstorms, and the watches and warnings have come and gone. They were wrong nearly every time. I don't know what oracle they are consulting; I suspect they may be toying with us or just literally broadcasting wishful thinking.
I have a tin sign up by the garage doors that reads, "Welcome Winter." Winter did not read it. Or, if taken as a suggestion (there is no comma on the sign), no one but me tried to follow said suggestion. I do not know what else to do. Here it is nearly May, and we are fast running out of chances. Then we're left with nothing but a long and arduous forest fire season.
If anyone out there is in New England, I'm sorry. That was supposed to be for us. And if you're in one of the many places in our world suffering much worse weather and climate fates, I know I am whining compared to your reality.
You never know how much you loved a thing until it's gone. I think with melancholy back to days when I lamented the snow, even proclaimed it vile. And I wonder if we are now in another era similar to the Medieval Warming Period. (Really interesting reading if you aren't familiar with it.)
So perhaps the next time the kiddos leave the car doors open, I'll get more than a half-inch in my car. I can't believe I'm actually hoping for that!
It will not snow. Ever.
In my high and dry neck of the woods, we used to get an average of over 100 inches of snow per season. I recall years with multiple blizzards, when it used to fall by the foot. Know what our biggest snowfall has been this "winter"? Four inches. Four lousy inches. My parents back South got nearly twice that in one snowfall. My friends on the central California coast saw their mountains get a five-incher. We have had a total this winter of about 12-14 inches.
A few years ago when I was living in Cali, I did not miss snow. And when the time came to return to the Rockies, I told my hubs that I would never drive in snow again as I had officially become a Californian. It didn't take. I MISS SNOW! WE NEED SNOW! All winter NOAA has been calling for snowstorms, and the watches and warnings have come and gone. They were wrong nearly every time. I don't know what oracle they are consulting; I suspect they may be toying with us or just literally broadcasting wishful thinking.
I have a tin sign up by the garage doors that reads, "Welcome Winter." Winter did not read it. Or, if taken as a suggestion (there is no comma on the sign), no one but me tried to follow said suggestion. I do not know what else to do. Here it is nearly May, and we are fast running out of chances. Then we're left with nothing but a long and arduous forest fire season.
If anyone out there is in New England, I'm sorry. That was supposed to be for us. And if you're in one of the many places in our world suffering much worse weather and climate fates, I know I am whining compared to your reality.
You never know how much you loved a thing until it's gone. I think with melancholy back to days when I lamented the snow, even proclaimed it vile. And I wonder if we are now in another era similar to the Medieval Warming Period. (Really interesting reading if you aren't familiar with it.)
So perhaps the next time the kiddos leave the car doors open, I'll get more than a half-inch in my car. I can't believe I'm actually hoping for that!
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The easter curse
So, it's been awhile. I could talk about all the...but on this special day, this is the story I'd rather tell.
I do not like easter nor mother's day. See how I "showed them" by not affording them capitals--HA, I win!!!!
I have had a fear of easter since childhood when, year after year, I got dressed up in a frilly little, pastel-colored dress, washed my hands and face, and went to church early so the preacher man could remind me again that I killed Jesus. I remember looking out the stained glass windows of our southern Southern Baptist church and seeing the rising sun streaming through in all the colors of easter happiness: Violent Violet, Orange Youashamedofyourself, Golden Rule Gold, and Crimson...you know who. It absolutely terrified me that no matter if the previous day had been dark, cloudy, and raining, with thunder, lightning, and tornadoes, that day, that Sunday, it was always sunny. To me, that was a stark reminder that IT could get you any time, in any way of ITS choosing.
Now I could relate to you some of the things that have happened to me on easters since, but first off, you'd never believe half of it, and second off, it's too wretched to bring to mind. So I will let you know how the old curse manifested itself today. First, I forgot that the email account I have attached to this blog and to my self-publishing blog with Keri, http://publishingyourself.blogspot.com/ , are not the same email address. Then, in my easter-inspired brilliance, I managed to change all my passwords in an attempt to rectify the situation. (Rectum-fy, more like it.) Then, I looked out in the driveway and noticed that one of my lovely children had left both my car's passenger-side doors open all night long. (I really hope nothing made a home in there only to resurrect itself when I am gliding effortlessly along at, say, sixty miles-an-hour.) Given my history with the curse, this is really "Good News".
So what is my explanation of all my good fortune today? Well, this year easter is so late in the month of April. I do not understand the movability of this particular feast--I probably did at some time, and now I do not care--but whenever it is at the end of March or beginning of April, my troubles seem to last until mother's day. I just always figured that "our hero" pushed the rock away from the cave, came out, either saw or didn't see--never can keep that one straight, either--his shadow, dooming me to six more weeks of bad luck. Do the math, it fits.
Maybe I will escape the "mother's day mysteries" also. I hope so. For bad or even worse things have happened to me then. We really used to take short vacations that weekend in a lame and useless effort to escape them, but in the words of Phish: "...I moved just where they'd hoped I'd be." 'Nuf said.
So here's my contribution in the spirit of renewal: I will not go a month without blogging. No excuses. And if my true story here offends in any way, that's not my intention, I'm just telling my truths. I get mine and you get yours. Go tell yours, please. We could all use a little dialogue back and forth, a little spar and parry with words. Teddy Roosevelt had a favorite word--challenge. I used to take that word in its negative connotation, but now I see it as an empowering reminder to do what we came here to do. If my job is to use words to heal myself--and along the way you feel other things--then maybe that will set into motion your job, and vice-versa. The buddhists say you should bow down and thank your "enemy" for being your great teacher. The self-help gurus say those with whom we are most uncomfortable are simply holding up a mirror to teach us our own flaws. Certain aspects of my past have already charted a part of my course, but I'd like to think that, like any good character with tons of flaws and areas for growth, I try to remain consistent in my outlook while keeping a somewhat open mind. I have my presets--and some grew out of those years of pain--but I am always looking to explore them in the light of day with rewrites and constant revision.
So however you hold this or any other holiday--in your head, your heart, or in distain--enjoy your day and all your days in the way you see fit. I will let you know--REALLY I WILL--how my days are going as I try to get my writing projects completed, my volunteer obligations met, and my actual life attended to with grace.
Oh, and in case you were wondering about the weather...it's partly cloudy here and last night it snowed in my car.
I do not like easter nor mother's day. See how I "showed them" by not affording them capitals--HA, I win!!!!
I have had a fear of easter since childhood when, year after year, I got dressed up in a frilly little, pastel-colored dress, washed my hands and face, and went to church early so the preacher man could remind me again that I killed Jesus. I remember looking out the stained glass windows of our southern Southern Baptist church and seeing the rising sun streaming through in all the colors of easter happiness: Violent Violet, Orange Youashamedofyourself, Golden Rule Gold, and Crimson...you know who. It absolutely terrified me that no matter if the previous day had been dark, cloudy, and raining, with thunder, lightning, and tornadoes, that day, that Sunday, it was always sunny. To me, that was a stark reminder that IT could get you any time, in any way of ITS choosing.
Now I could relate to you some of the things that have happened to me on easters since, but first off, you'd never believe half of it, and second off, it's too wretched to bring to mind. So I will let you know how the old curse manifested itself today. First, I forgot that the email account I have attached to this blog and to my self-publishing blog with Keri, http://publishingyourself.blogspot.com/ , are not the same email address. Then, in my easter-inspired brilliance, I managed to change all my passwords in an attempt to rectify the situation. (Rectum-fy, more like it.) Then, I looked out in the driveway and noticed that one of my lovely children had left both my car's passenger-side doors open all night long. (I really hope nothing made a home in there only to resurrect itself when I am gliding effortlessly along at, say, sixty miles-an-hour.) Given my history with the curse, this is really "Good News".
So what is my explanation of all my good fortune today? Well, this year easter is so late in the month of April. I do not understand the movability of this particular feast--I probably did at some time, and now I do not care--but whenever it is at the end of March or beginning of April, my troubles seem to last until mother's day. I just always figured that "our hero" pushed the rock away from the cave, came out, either saw or didn't see--never can keep that one straight, either--his shadow, dooming me to six more weeks of bad luck. Do the math, it fits.
Maybe I will escape the "mother's day mysteries" also. I hope so. For bad or even worse things have happened to me then. We really used to take short vacations that weekend in a lame and useless effort to escape them, but in the words of Phish: "...I moved just where they'd hoped I'd be." 'Nuf said.
So here's my contribution in the spirit of renewal: I will not go a month without blogging. No excuses. And if my true story here offends in any way, that's not my intention, I'm just telling my truths. I get mine and you get yours. Go tell yours, please. We could all use a little dialogue back and forth, a little spar and parry with words. Teddy Roosevelt had a favorite word--challenge. I used to take that word in its negative connotation, but now I see it as an empowering reminder to do what we came here to do. If my job is to use words to heal myself--and along the way you feel other things--then maybe that will set into motion your job, and vice-versa. The buddhists say you should bow down and thank your "enemy" for being your great teacher. The self-help gurus say those with whom we are most uncomfortable are simply holding up a mirror to teach us our own flaws. Certain aspects of my past have already charted a part of my course, but I'd like to think that, like any good character with tons of flaws and areas for growth, I try to remain consistent in my outlook while keeping a somewhat open mind. I have my presets--and some grew out of those years of pain--but I am always looking to explore them in the light of day with rewrites and constant revision.
So however you hold this or any other holiday--in your head, your heart, or in distain--enjoy your day and all your days in the way you see fit. I will let you know--REALLY I WILL--how my days are going as I try to get my writing projects completed, my volunteer obligations met, and my actual life attended to with grace.
Oh, and in case you were wondering about the weather...it's partly cloudy here and last night it snowed in my car.
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