Author Archives: Pamela

I’ve been pretty grumpy lately. No particular reason just generalized mid-summer grumpiness.

I’m kind-of confused because the newspaper this morning predicted that the heat wave is going to continue only hotter and hotter. Whoever writes the newspaper weather summary seems to think weather is an Olympic sport. He’s always talking about the records we may break or the records we missed. The Internet forecast is hot but much less dire. The discrepancy is making me overly obsessed with the weather.

On the plus side: tomatoes. I have a few that look like they might be thinking of turning red soon. They’ve gone from green to shiny yellow-ish.

Bliss
I erred on an earlier post when I talked about the chocolate coconut milk ice cream that would lead to world peace. That other brand is yummy, too, but it’s this stuff that will make you want to save the world. I saw it when I was shopping this morning and I figured I’d better buy some so I could take a photo and update my story.

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My sweetheart is about 75% recovered from his unfortunate summer pneumonia. He had another doctor appointment this morning and they told him he was on this side of it and just keep taking it easy. He just told me he was going downstairs to watch a German silent film. I said if it was silent, what did it matter what language was in. He sputtered and then threatened to give me a lecture about German film or something. I’m sure he’ll write about it later today.

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It’s sad how much personal responsibility I’m taking for saving the dying newspaper industry. We get two papers delivered to our house seven days a week.

A few months ago Bob asked me if I was ready to give up the Oregonian. I didn’t say no but more like, but we can’t give up on it. In the morning I can hear the delivery vehicle and I don’t think there’s another stop on our street.

However, the Oregonian is getting exponentially more terrible by the day. The majority of the articles are stupid, sound like they were written by a high school journalism class (which is kind of a burn on high school journalism classes, sorry) and generally involve blaming some government entity for everything. Weather. Accidents. Moldy cheese.

In today’s Stupidonian there’s an article about a small child wandering around by herself in the sheriff’s parking lot. An officer saw her and here’s the quote: “his police officer’s instinct kicked in. He stopped the girl, asked her where her mother was and where she was headed.”

His police officer’s instinct. Really? Don’t you think pretty much any human being with a soul would be concerned seeing a small child wandering around a parking lot alone? Wouldn’t that be human instinct? It’s a terrible story, the kid was being abused but that doesn’t make the article any less worthless. Even the caption to the photo is lame. Later the officer “shrug[s] off praise for helping the child.” Isn’t that his freaking job?

Here’s one from a few weeks ago: a guy caught his own identity thief. Yeah, identity theft is awful but there is no hook in this story. It’s like writing a story about your Mom going to the grocery store. “After the meat section, Mom pushed her cart over to produce … .”

Choice quote:
[The victim] had enough. “To be honest with you, I’m the real [Vampire Lestat].” (aside: made up name)
The voice on the other end protested, “No you’re not. I am!” and hung up.

Last item mocking the Oregonian.

The Elks came to town and the article uses 600 words to tell us over and over and over that they were here to spend money.

Choice quote:
Mr. Elk said his wife has gone shopping several times since they arrived Thursday and that the two are considering a tour to Mount Hood. “The Elks spend money when they come to town,” he said.

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I was going to use this morning to clean out the giant overflowing email box of doom but I’ve got an appointment in less than an hour and I haven’t even started yet. Since it’s been so hot I decided to go out and weed the front yard at 7am when it was nice and cool. I moved these rock-brick things in the driveway and totally crunched one of my fingers. That baby is going to be nice and purple tomorrow. Photo to follow.

My Bedroom Agoura 1982

This is my bedroom in 1982. It’s the companion photo to this one

Pretty hip, huh. Like the cool giant pillow recliner?

I haven’t had time to write a good post. It’s not for lack of topics.

Today I think it’s important to share the word on these fabulous ice creams made with coconut milk. They are scary delicious. The chocolate one should be served free everywhere in the interest of world peace.

This is a short version of a long story but I switched from real ice cream to soy ice cream awhile back because I couldn’t pack away a pint in one sitting like I could with the Ben & Jerry’s. (I know that doesn’t really make sense. I don’t know how if there’s a way to explain it.) Since then I got used to non-dairy ice cream. The coconut milk ones I could pack away a pint in one sitting. So I don’t buy it very often.

Klamath River: river pump and dogs (there’s a little one in the distance, too)

Clarion West Write-A-Thon Week 3 Progress Report

Info about the Write-a-Thon here and Clarion West Writeathon Page.

My goal is 3000 words a week and 2 story submissions during the six weeks as in sending something finished to a market.

Word count this week: 3570
Stories submitted so far: 0 (I know, I know. I’m working on it.)

Still not too late to contribute. Even a buck or two is great. My donation page is here or there’s an address to send checks at the URL above or you can contact me for more info.

This weekend hasn’t been super productive but also not a complete waste of time. I’m hoping for a big breakthrough tomorrow.

I planted these last year and they didn’t bloom until after I left for Seattle and they were gone by the time I got home. I’ve been loving them this year.

I made the last hamburger bun into a Nutella and sunflower seed butter sandwich for lunch this week. Yeah, it was pretty good. I also ate lentil salad every single day for 7 days and just tossed the last couple of scoops into the disposal. No one should have to eat the same lentil salad 8 days in a row.

After fondling the box in Target during every visit for the last three months I finally bought the first two seasons of Angel on DVD. My note here says “Angle” and I had to scratch my head for a minute before I figured out what I meant. I watched the series premiere last night and you know who’s in it?

Sawyer. I know. I couldn’t believe it either. I had to check the internet to make sure it was real. I don’t want to give too much away but he gets staked in the first 10 minutes.

I went to Trader Joe’s this morning. I’ve cut way back on my wine drinking purely as a waistline thing so my trips to TJ’s have become less regular. I can’t believe they haven’t called and asked if I was okay. This morning I couldn’t find any Glee Gum. I asked and my checkout person shook her head with some genuine distress. “I don’t know what happened,” she said. So now I’m going to order giant bags of it from the internet and try different flavors and keep bowls in every room.

I feel like I’ve been busting ass the last couple of days with nothing really to show for it. I’ve got high hopes for tomorrow.

Klamath River Photo from Father’s Day Weekend

Post vacation weekend grumpiness.

Here’s just a general reminder: people – you are all doing it wrong.

Homemade Buns

You’re probably wondering why anyone would go through the trouble of making homemade hamburger buns. I’m telling you this recipe is worth it. If you are an experienced yeasted bread maker, this is really easy. Sure, the star of a burger is the meat. But with these buns, instead of soggy bleargh holding your condiments onto your burger, you’ve got one more delicious flavor.

Try it. I took pictures of the entire meal but the rest came out terrible.

The lemon buttermilk ice cream turned out fantastic, too. Well, that’s partly a lie. It tasted fantastic. It didn’t get quite frozeny enough. I served with fresh raspberries.

In another amazing announcement, my magazine drawer is empty. Yes, you read that correctly: empty. I have read every periodical in the pile including all the newsletters, the Port of Vancouver Report and the annual Vancouver Water Quality Report. I know I enjoy this only briefly and that tomorrow the mailman will bring me a new pile to read. But for at least 24 hours, I was able to sit back and prop my feet on the open drawer and revel in my accomplishments.

Last note of the day: This is my favorite story I read last year: 26 Monkeys, Also the Abyss By Kij Johnson. I listened to it again yesterday while I was cooking. That’s an audio form. Reading form here.