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The Desk Drawer

dribbles, drabbles, odds, and ends

(no subject)
vanderweyden woman
I think my dog is a competitive pisser.

If I could ensure that two doors down from me I had a neighbor with a chihuahua....or one of the breeds with the shrill, loud, penetrating barking.... I would be able to make "getting dog to pee outside instead of stealthily in the center of the carpet" take perhaps three minutes. 

Otherwise, she dribbles it out in marking here and there, and will finally shit when it's clear peristalsis is an irresistable force.

But if she's being barked at impotently by a small dog and she's in their yard? 

She turns, stares at them, and, still staring takes a full piss, while they go insane from the other side of the fence or inside the house. And moves over a foot and takes a shit. And does a full "vague covering up motion" kicking and pawing afterwards.

If getting her fixed will stop this little behavior, damn it, I can wait another couple of weeks for my pain meds.  Cause this means we have to walk. All the way. Around the block. Three times a day. Until she either finds a dog to go apeshit at her for Daring To Walk Past My Yard or until peristalsis and exercise take their course. My foot doesn't like to do this. Bear doesn't walk. It's not J's dog, and anyway, someone will have to do it or something when I get my foot worked on, because then it just won't be possible.

But a competitive pisser. (shakes head in disbelief) Dogs can be just as crazy as humans.

Writer's Block: If I were president ...
vanderweyden woman
What would you do if you were president or prime minister for a day?

Publish exact details of the secret ceremony that all Democrats go through once they are seated in the Congress. Because I don't know what it is...it must involve dead children and goats or something...but it would explain why it is when given a chance to stand up and do what they said they would on the campaign trail, they shift in their seat, blush, look away, and mumble something about one step at a time and bipartisanship and smile as the New Deal reforms are blithely hacked away at.

Because I refuse to believe that ALL the Democrats in Congress for the last thirty years are moneygrubbing hacks who just want to make connections and step sideways into a plum lobbying job when they finish their term.

Recipe: Chocolate Brownie Fritters
vanderweyden woman
Chocolate brownie taste. Deep fried.

I think a vanilla custard sauce and some raspberry puree would make these entirely too much.

1 1/2 c. white sugar
2 eggs
4 tablespoons butter, melted and cooled
3 squares unsweetened chocolate
1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup buttermilk
4 c. all purpose flour
3 tsp. baking powder
1 tsp. baking soda
1/2 tsp. salt

1 cup white sugar for rolling in after frying

Directions: All ingredients to be at  room temperature. Beat eggs and sugar together to a creamy lemon color. Melt butter and chocolate together, then beat into egg mixture. Combine vanilla and buttermilk separately, and add to egg mixture. Stir well. In a separate bowl, sift together the flour, baking powder, baking soda, and salt. Add to liquid mixture. If using a stand mixer, use dough hook to work in the flour mixture. Let rest ten minutes.

Heat oil to 375 degrees. Using a small disher, place balls of dough into hot oil. Fry two minutes, turning over at one minute. Drain on paper towel, roll in white sugar.

(no subject)
vanderweyden woman
Well, the universe apparently is listening to me.

Monday night I was thinking, "You know, given how cold it can get in the winter, I'd really feel better if I had a kerosene or propane space heater."

Tuesday afternoon we went driving out past where someone had cleaned out a barn and there sat two kerosene heaters.

Well. I guess it's time to start asking for another freezer, too, and just be open to it happening.

Writer's Block: It's allergies ... really!
vanderweyden woman
What was the last thing that made you cry?


There is the grinding vague headache that makes light too bright, sounds too loud, life just a little too much.
There is the hot pain of the shoulder and neck muscles.
There is the all-over ache and prickly sunburn pain of the fibromyalgia.
There is the pain of the feet, which is legion, and contains multitudes; the dull blue sullenness of the plantar fasciitis, the golden loudness of the dislocations in the midfoot, the obstinate whine in my forefoot  from the cyst. The gold of the forefoot joins the howling sharp stretch of the ankle pain, and uses as spaces in its chorus the ominous silence of the space where the tear is, where there should be a whiteness of stretching ligament, but instead there is a glimpse into nothing.

I live at anywhere from a four to a seven on the average pain scale. I stop walking on it at an eight, which is when I begin to get teary-eyed from the pain. But it is irrelevant.

For there are clothes to wash and dry and fold, the dog, the cats, and the husband to clean up after, and work does not get done if I do not do it, so it must be done.

(no subject)
vanderweyden woman
Well, this, that, and the other has been happening.

I'm out of most of my meds, so I am pretty much existing in the big chair watching things. I think I may take my computer out of the office since I haven't felt well enough to sit up here very long for the last few weeks. If I rearrange things in the front room I could have it in there, pull a tray across my lap for the keyboard, and work in a half-lying position with my feet up. That would help a lot for me. The space in here could then just be for makeup and hair and stuff. I may play with some graph paper to figure out how to make this happen. But for now I'm going to go in the front room and watch a DVD and just exist.

On apples.
vanderweyden woman
We are "doing apples".

This meant that on Friday night I went  to the club, had rather the usual fun, and then stayed up so that when the sun came up, before it went awful and hot, we could go out to the trees in our back yard and to other trees at abandoned houses and pick apples. And peaches; one house had a peach tree, and we got about a bushel off it. 

So we have about three bushels of apples and a bushel of peaches.

Currently one half bushel has been made into applesauce and is currently gently steaming down into apple butter in the turkey roaster, as that doesn't heat the place up like the oven. The other apples have mostly been cored (though not peeled) and will be turned into various yummy goodies in due course, including applesauce, apple relish, and an apple preserve with cranberries and liqueur and such. The peaches are going to become peach jam with amaretto since I have peaches and I have amaretto, and I can get pectin off the cores of the apples. (aren't I clever?) 

Bear thinks he will be well enough to go back to work Monday, which is a great relief. It is getting very very difficult managing without money, and the pantry is drawn down enough that it's getting tough to cook.

As my neck and shoulders Have Opinions about me handling the picking pole today, I am going to now take a muscle relaxant and a sleeping pill and go. to. bed.

Is it a murphy's law of writing
vanderweyden woman
that after  one turns off the computer, does the relaxing and centering yoga, takes sleeping pill, has hot bath to further relax....

that in the bathtub one gets unexpected insights into a troublesome character who by revealing her essential life plan and approach also shows her sister's as being one that has in some measure reacted to that. Which works nicely.

Today's words.
vanderweyden woman
Got up around noon and went with Bear to look at some things at Tractor Supply.  Thought it was my day to post Kosability...no. NEXT Wednesday. Okay. So went and hung out with my sons at their grandmother's house, and watched them shoot the softair guns.  Eldest likes the pottery wheel we found for him on the net, so his dad is going to make that for him over the fall and give it as a birthday present. We also noted that he wants a shed to do his pottery in so when we find a house we will make sure it can accommodate that in the yard, as well as having a garage for Bear to do woodworking in. Younger wants a video game room, and they all want a soft air range in the basement. Posted my first WWW to good response. Writing today was second WWW and so far part of Full Red Moon essay. I am leaving it open and suspect I'll do a sentence here and a sentence there for the rest of the evening.

I may have to take tomorrow off for biological reasons; just before I did the essay I started to cramp. I haven't walked the dog yet, so I'll see if I can manage that before it rains/gets dark, and before this gets really bad.

Went out to walk the dog, and discovered the gate open and the dog gone. Shit.  Dog found sitting on a porch two blocks down. I met quite a few of the neighbors. She is now safely home. And we are going to chain up the back gate, yes indeed.

Today's words.
vanderweyden woman
Got up very late. Like, 2 pm. Dog out, cat fed, I had a brownie and went and sat down to write. Got the essay written on Reverence, though I think it will need more on the second edit, and marked it as such on the schedule. I have D coming over today in about four hours, so I won't get any writing done once he's here. I think we'll clean.

And now I will put on walking shoes and walk the dog.

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