Baking update

The muffins yesterday were more edible than science project, but I wouldn't call them a delicious success.  Of course, they started out as "healthy" muffins made with oatmeal and whole wheat flour (ok.  I used multigrain flour), so who knows, I may have actually improved on the original concept.

I won't be sharing that recipe, but they didn't turn into hockey pucks.

  I know, it looks like it might have been a bit puckish, right?  It didn't rise much, but it did rise.

Adventures in Baking

I love to bake.  It's something that I've been doing since I was a child and who can argue with the results:  desserts, breads, cookies, and cakes - it's really got something for everyone!  And I'm good at since I've been doing it for about twenty five(ugh) years.

I still remember the first time I baked anything by myself.  I was probably 10 years old or so.  Mom and Dad had run to town and left my brother and I at home alone.  He, being the older and responsible one, did what any older brother would do.  Annoyed me until he got bored then wandered off to do his own thing leaving me bored.  And, apparently, wanting cookies.

What does any child do when left alone wanting cookies?  Bake them!  So, I opened up one of my Mom's many cookbooks and found a cookie recipe.  I was in the middle of making the cookie dough when they got home and while I'd love to tell you that that first foray into solo baking turned into amazing, mouthwatering cookies, I really have no idea.  We're talking twenty-five years ago!  I don't even remember baking them, much less eating them.  I just vaguely remember my parents' amazement when they found me baking cookies.

Some kids throw parties when left alone.  I baked and cleaned house.  Or farmed with my brother.

Today, I felt like muffins and I have a great, healthy muffin recipe I wanted to try.  I typically have the basics anyone needs to bake so I just take that for granted.  And I know I bought the special items for these muffins awhile ago - frozen mixed fruit, for example.  So, I get started and have oil, milk and vanilla in a bowl when I go looking for the required egg.  Uhhh... no eggs.  All is not lost, I know some substitutions so I throw in a bit more oil and some unsweetened apple sauce.

Moving on.  I have no sugar.  WHAT???  What kind of baker has no sugar?  Right.  The kind that's married to a diabetic and doesn't buy sugar willy nilly.  Luckily, I do have vast amounts of splenda (ugh) which is an ok substitute for sugar so...in it goes and I really wish I'd added sweetened apple sauce to this.

I also don't have quick oats, we'll try my multigrain porridge mix instead.  So, by the time these puppies are baked, it could be an interesting science experiment or a recipe I'll be proud to post here!  I'm leaning heavily towards interesting science experiment.

Building stuff

About a month ago, I went and volunteered (with some other ladies from work) on a Habitat for Humanity build.  If you've never done this, you should.  It's so much fun.  And you know what?  I GOT TO USE A MITRE SAW!  Yep.  Me and power tools.  Love.  Since then, I've been trying to get Mr. Moose to agree to do a renovation, rebuild the deck, rebuild the fence, build a gazebo or heck, just let me cut random pieces of wood around the house.  For what it's worth, I get the love of power tools now.

And I didn't even loose a finger, hand or arm.  Win.

Growing up on a farm, I've always been pretty tomboyish.  I have an older brother.  I didn't play house or play with Barbies.  Nope, I helped him farm and build roads.  I wrote in my journal for French class about wanting to trick out a truck. 

Note:  I've never done this.  Nor do I have any urge to anymore.  I've never even dated a man with a tricked out truck.  I don't even watch Pimp My Ride or whatever that show is.  Just like other girls grow out of Barbie dolls, I grew out of my love for roll bars and suspension kits.

I have, however, renovated a bathroom (this is how I met Mr. Moose).  Before I met Mr.  Moose I had my own tool box and drill.  Now, Mr. Moose uses my tools and I sit by and watch (which sucks, quite frankly).  So, I was totally excited when I saw Tomboy Tools on the weekend.

Tools for women - fantastic.  At one point in my not-so-distant past, I would've scoffed loudly at pink tools.  Gah.  Don't patronize the little lady and tell me I need my tools to be pink to use them.  And PLEASE do not package up cheap tools in pretty pink colours and sell them to me as if you're doing me a favour treating me like I might be able to play with the big boys.

But today?  I love this.  I'm pretty sure if I'd had a pink drill when I met Mr. Moose, it would be exactly where I expect it to be (with a fully charged battery thank you very much) when I needed it.  I'm pretty sure my hammer, measuring tape and flashlight would also be right there with it - ready to be used rather than scattered around the house and garage.  And has anyone seen my Dremel since we moved?  Yeah.  I didn't think so.

I think it's awesome that someone has done this with tools.  I don't even mind the home party aspect of it.  I'm kinda considering having a party, inviting my friends with daughters old enough to play with the tools and having a mother daughter party.  I know at least three of my friends who've been divorced without the skills to do their own home repairs who would probably love this.  And why not get the next generation comfortable with tools at the same time?

Also, I want the pink toolbelt.

We interrupt this blog for an important (yet late) announcement

This week is Banned Book Week.  Didn't know it existed?  Neither did I until I read about it in someone's signature on a wedding forum.  Yup.  A wedding forum. 

It got me investigating the situation since I honestly believed that we lived in a Canada (and a North America) that wouldn't really go for banning books.  Ok, sure, there was that Satanic Verses hiccup and all, but really?  Banned Books?  In 2010?  No!

Granted, most of these bannings and challenges have come in school libraries and required reading lists.  I can get behind that.  Clearly there are some books that don't belong in schools.  Letters to Penthouse, for one.  And there are clearly books that do belong.  Things like Harry Potter.  Of course, then I learned that Harry has been challenged previously because of witchcraft. 

Click here for more information on banned/challenged books in Canada

I'll agree that there is a gray area when it comes to what children should be reading.  It isn't all Winnie the Pooh (which has been challenged in the past) and Letters to Penthouse.  But once you hit that gray area, I think it's the responsibility of parents to talk to their children, determine for themselves what their children can and should read and leave it up to other parents to determine what their children can and should read.

I'm a little afraid of a world where we can't imagine wizards and witches.  I've read the first six Harry Potter books and found them to be fascinating.  While part of me wishes that I could pick up a wand and make mops and buckets do my work for me (a la Disney's Fantasia), I'm aware that I can't.  Just as I've always been aware that I'm not Cinderella, Sleeping Beauty, Ariel or Belle.

And while it's great to dream and imagine, it's also good to know about life that isn't so pleasant.  Should To Kill a Mockingbird be banned from schools?  I read it in school and I happen to think I turned out all right.

But when I look at that list of banned/challenged books in Canada, I also see that many have been challenged in my own city library.  Why?  I'm an adult and I should be fully capable of figuring out what I want to read.  I kinda like thrillers and I'm ok with the graphic depictions of blood and violence.  I'm not going to rush out and commit murder - even if my husband has expressed concern about how many thrillers I read.  I just like a good mystery, a good thriller, a good book with a good puzzle.  Why should someone else get to decide if I should or should not read it?

There is much to learn in this world. 

Are cats really worth it?

Don't rush to judgment here and send me flaming bags of cat poop.  There's a process I'm about to go through.  Read it before preparing the bags of cat poop.  Your UPS man will thank you.

I have two cats.  I fondly call them Basterd Cat and Crazy Pants.  Both are rather accurate descriptions of the cats.  On Saturday morning, Basterd Cat made his way out the door into the great wild outdoors.  He likes to do this.  I don't like when he does this.  He'll usually be back around dinner time, waiting to be let in impatiently.

Today is Tuesday.  He's not back.

Let me tell you a bit about Basterd cat.  We have two dogs in addition to the two cats.  Basterd cat hisses and swats at both dogs and the other cat (although, when he thinks we're not looking, he's been found curled up with Crazy Pants).  His file at the vet is flagged red and when he goes in, they pretty much suit up to deal with him.  He's taken a chunk out of at least one vet.  If we don't let him outside when he wants, he follows us around meowing over and over and over again until you want to snap his tiny little furry neck.  He vomits daily.  I'm pretty sure he sheds at will.

The good?  I've had him for 10 years.  He's helped my survive my divorce as well as the death of both of my grandparents recently.  He's been cried on and cuddled and he's slept on me when I'm sick.  If my husband and I are around when he's sleeping, he'll reach out a single paw and rest it on us as if he likes knowing we're there.

And now he's missing and it makes me sad.  He's 12 years old (at least) and he's turned into a grumpy old man, but he's my grumpy old man.

He may be at the pound.  They have a picture of a cat on their website that could very well be him.  I called and was told he'd been euthanized, but that he was a she and instead of a brown tabby, a tortiseshell.  Well, I'm pretty sure that's an identity that couldn't (and shouldn't) be confused.  So they told me to go to the pound to see if he was there.

My husband works closer than I do so he went.  And he was turned away at the door.  Why?  Because they're euthanizing cats today.  Gee.  Thanks for making me feel all warm and fuzzy.  Really.  They did reassure him that the 3 day holding period does not include weekends so it's likely they are NOT euthanizing him.  I hope.

After this, I ask myself if it's really worth having a cat I've nicknamed basterd cat. 

It is.

Money and calories and yummy food.

Mr. Moose and I are trying to do a couple of things.  First up is save a little money.  Or, just stop spending so much.  It isn't like we're deep in debt.  We've got the line of credit and that's it.  Only we put the car on the line of credit back in May and that brought it back up slightly.  So Mr. Moose is wanting to pay it back down ASAP.  Not a bad idea at all.

We did a quick budget and the amount we were spending on eating out was shocking.  You want a shock and awe campaign?  That'll do it.  Seriously.  If you ever wonder where all of your paycheck is going, add up your restaurant bills - including coffee, and lunches.  Sweet mother of all that is holy, that is a terrifying number. 

No.  I won't tell you what it was.

Second on the list is lose weight.  We're both looking more moosish than we really want to.  Yes.  I just made up the word "moosish."  Just now.  It's ok.  Funny thing about eating out.  It is hard on your pocket book AND your health.  So, this week we've made a concerted effort to cook at home.  We've done well.  We even ate leftovers which is quite an accomplishment for us.  We love cooking, but apparently we don't love reheating things in a microwave quite so much.

End result?  We've decided to cut down our restaurant meals to 2x a week.  One night and one breakfast on weekends.  Mr. Moose looooooooooooves his breakfasts out.  I'm ok with that.

We had delivery Chinese on Tuesday night and it was SUCH a waste of our one meal "out" that I'm still sad and disappointed about it.  (Yes.  I realize that it's ridiculous to still be sad and disappointed about food 3 days later.  There's a reason I'm moosish.)  Because of that, I'm still craving Chinese food.  So tonight, we're making our own.  Yup.  Making our own.  And it isn't going to be deep fried.

We're having Chilled sesame Green Beans, Asian coleslaw and Pork and Pineapple stir fry.  Yum.

Leftovers will be made into a fantastic picnic lunch for tomorrow.

Want to know something awesome?  I've lost 1.5 lbs this week. 

Please forgive me while I geek out for a moment

If you prefer, you may want to look away.  Perhaps skip this post altogether, because I'm about to get nerdy.

This weekend, I geo-cached.  If you don't know what that is, I'll give you a brief explanation and send you on your way.  It's basically a giant scavenger hunt.  A huge, world-wide game of hide and seek.  First, someone sets out a "cache" somewhere.  A cache could be anything from a tiny pillbottle container with sheets of paper for signing to larger waterproof containers with small things to trade and a logbook to sign to virtual caches and earth caches that are simply things to see and a list of things to do to prove you were at the cache.

Once a person sets out the cache, they go to a website (www.geocaching.com) and record the cache with its GPS co-ordinates, a few details and maybe even an encrypted hint to help you out if you get stuck finding the cache's hiding spot.

Then people like me who have time on their hands, download these co-ordinates to a handheld GPS and we set off in hopes of treasure and glory.

J and I did this before a few years ago and then pretty much forgot about it because our GPS was kinda sucky.  It's ok, but not great.  And we found that geo-caching in the city was doomed to fail because so many of the caches get found and removed by people.  Or you get tired of people giving you odd looks as you lead your dogs off on a hunt through heavy brush and weeds.

The things I learned on the weekend are that geo-caching requires certain things.

1. Daylight.  Yup, those little boxes and bottles are MUCH easier to find in daylight.
2. Mosquito repellent. Weeds.  Underbrush.  Long grass.  I think the ones out at the Battle River Trestle were trying to carry me off and offer me as a sacrifice to the mosquito gods.
3. Long pants.  In addition to weeds, underbrush and long grass, I met thistles, rose bushes, poison ivy and stinging nettles.  Fun.
4. Proper shoes.  Not sandals.  Do NOT try geocaching wearing sandals.  My ankles and feet do not thank me today.
5. Stuff to trade.  And good stuff, because really, it sucks to open a cache to find a cat toy and some business cards...
6. No fear.  It helps if, as you're digging through heavy grass and underbrush, your mother isn't behind you mentioning snakes, spiders and other things that might jump out at you and cause you a heart attack. 
7. Water and snacks because sometimes you get hungry and thirsty and you're in the middle of freakin' nowhere digging through grass, weeds and underbrush while trying to avoid snakes, spiders, critters and prickly things.

And I'm going to tell you something since you made it this far.  I liked geo-caching.  I liked all of the above, well, with the exception of the mention of snakes and spiders thank you very much. I had fun and even better, we introduced my parents to it and they liked it too.

We did our thing in Saskatchewan on the weekend, out around my hometown.  This week we're going to poke around the city in the evenings with our geo-dogs.  (It's a culture people.  A CULTURE!) and see what we can find.

Geo-dogs.  I can't believe I called them that.