Project 365

You wouldn’t know it by looking at this blog, but I recently got a new digital camera. It’s new to me at least and that’s new enough. I meant to write about it the other day and put up some pictures, but I got sidetracked by monkeys.  Anyway, the camera is great and I’ve been taking plenty of pictures. I’ve decided to join the Project 365 group on Flickr. I take a photo everyday and upload it on the site. Check out my Flickr photostream.

My Pet Monkey

Have you ever wanted something really badly, but been unable to have it? When I was a kid I really wanted a monkey. I’d even heard that you could train your pet monkey to change its own diapers and I thought that was pretty cool. I don’t know why you couldn’t just train it to use the toilet. Anyway, I wanted a monkey so badly and my parents just weren’t having it.

“Those are evil animals,” my father told me like he’d had personally experience with monkeys. He seemed so sure about it  that I wondered if a monkey had killed his best friend and stolen his girl when he was in high school. “We’re not having one of those things in this house. They stink.”

That meant no monkey for me. When that was finally made clear my desire turned to disdain. I decided to hate monkeys which is funny really. How can you possibly hate a monkey? They have such cute little faces. They do such entertaining things like dance and juggle. You can dress them up in outfits. They can even wear hats and sunglasses.

If there was ever a monkey on TV I’d change the channel. I would never watch a movie that featured a monkey, chimp or orangutan. Looking back this was a wise decision. I think that a monkey in a movie is just a desperate attempt by film makers to keep viewers from noticing how bad the script and actors are.

Producer: Do you think the audience will be annoyed when they realize they sat through two hours of story just to find out it’s all a dream?

Director: Not at all. I mean Hulk Hogan has the dynamic range and acting chops to really make the main character come alive.

Producer: Maybe we should put a monkey in it just to be sure.

Director: Great idea. Everyone loves monkeys!

Now that I’m an adult I could have a pet monkey if I really wanted one, but somehow the whole idea has lost its appeal. I no longer hate monkeys. I believe that monkeys are just as good as cats or dogs. Maybe they’re even better because they have cute little hands and opposable thumbs. The two men I live with already make it hard enough to keep the bathroom clean. Imagine how bad the toilet would look if a monkey were using it too.

First photo:  mape_s’

Second photo: Public domain

A Beeriest Cancer

Someone posted the strangest comment on my “Have You Ever Had an MRI?” post. Instead of approving it I decided to post it here.

Dear

I know that you will saw my message as a surprise mail, but don’t worry abut it , i am contacting you by God Devin  to let you know my desire to establish a charity foundation in your country with this sum US$3.000.000 (three Million US Dollars) which I inherited from my late husband (Mr. ezurus david) i am pleading you in the name of our almighty God, if you know that you are not a sincerity person and faithful, please do not write back to me , because i need truthful somebody that  have fear of God and much willing to do the charity foundation without betrayed my trust when the bank transfer the funds to his account .

My Dear i want you to know my purpose of making this donation for the charity foundation of God in your country is to help the poor and those that are in needs, example, to build a school for training the poor and those that are in need, hospital for there medical treatment, an organization to help the poor and those that are in needs, company to  employed unemployment people.

i want to assured you, my name is Mrs Mary David from france but married to late Mr. ezurus david from cote D’ivorie west Africa and i am suffering a beeriest cancer debase for a long time now and my Doctor said that i will not last more than 2mounths due to the stage of my cancer sickness now and during our marriage time we did not procure a child, so i decided to use the wealth of my late husband to establish a charity foundation of God. Hence our family members are ungodly people.

Finally, i want you to know that the funds are deposited in Eco bank Abidjan Cote D’ivoier West Africa. so i will need your home address , picture and telephone number so that i will fully know You  as foreign  partner whom i have chosen to receive my funds for the Charity Foundation of God. So send all this information’s, once i  receive your information’s with your email, i will forward to you the  contact details information’s of the  Eco bank to transfer the funds to your bank account in your country for the Charity Foundation of God.

Please my dear if you are willing to help me please kindly contact me on my email (mary_14david63@yahoo.com )  so that we can further ahead and transfer the fund into your bank account in your country to start the charity foundation  .
i am waiting for your good response.

Thanks and god blesses you.
Mrs May David

I don’t know what a beeriest cancer is, but I feel sorry for poor Mrs. David. It’s such a drag when you have the beeriest cancer, $3.000.000 to dispose of, and an ungodly family. I hope she finds someone to help her start her charity soon.

Headshot

My husband who is a professional musician and really should have promotional photograph thing taken care of by now needed a picture for a gig he’s doing next month. So we hung a sheet up in the living room and started taking pictures. Of course, we couldn’t let him be the star of the show. We had to get in on the act too.

The Fermentation Factory

I’ve been fermenting food recently. There’s nothing like some old vegetables to compliment a meal. It’s true. I currently have lacto-fermented salsa and kimchi  in jars in front of the radiator in the living room. Our kitchen is too cold to encourage the fermentation process. Actually, we really don’t need a refrigerator. We can keep our veggies cold by storing them in the cupboard. I’m also growing an experiment in gluten-free sourdough bread in front of the radiator.

The other day my husband walked into the living room and said, “It smells like a barnyard in here.” He was probably thinking that I was trying to make kefir again, but I haven’t tried that since the last kefir debacle.

Anyway, when my family starts complaining about the barn-like odor I know it’s time to put the ferments in the frig. My salsa and kimchi joined my raw sauerkraut in the refrigerator this morning. Of all the fermented vegetable sauerkraut is my least favorite. What were they Germans thinking? Didn’t they have any other seasoning besides salt?

I proofed my sourdough last night. I started a loaf rising this morning and now it’s in the oven. I have no idea what it’ll be like. As I write this I’m realizing that I don’t even know what time I put it in the oven.

My husband who happily eats my fermented foods is always ready to make fun of the process of making them. Here’s his recipe for sourdough bread.

First put some dough in a jar and let it sit for three days.

Next put the dough in a glass bowl and let it sit overnight.

Then put he dough in a loaf pan and let it sit for a few hours.

Finally bake it.

It isn’t rocket science, but it is a little more complicated than that. As one of sourdough websites I read said, “If this sounds brain-dead simple, that’s because it is. People who didn’t believe the Earth was round did this for millenia.” They may of not realized the Earth was round, but they sure made some good bread. I wonder how good they were at figuring out whether to push or pull a door open. Probably better than me.

In Case Your Wondering:

You may be wondering, “Hey, what’s up with all the fermenting going on in your house?” You may find it frightening. You may even be thinking, “Remind me never to eat at Lovelyn’s house.”

The good bacteria found in fermented foods promotes gut health. Fermented foods have been part of many traditional diets for years. Find out more about the health benefits of fermented foods.

This post is part of Real Food Wednesdays on Cheeseslave.

Life in the UK

It’s already been two years since we moved to the UK. The time has flown by. So now it’s time for me to renew my visa. Two weeks ago, I downloaded the visa application. Much to my dismay, I discovered that I needed to take a test called the Life in the UK Test before I could apply for my visa. So I bought the study book online and commenced to a rigid program of  half-hearted studying that involved skimming the book nightly whilst listening to some of my favorite podcasts.

A couple days before the test date I decided I was ready to take the official online practice test. Let’s just say that it was harder than I expected. It contained questions like:

What percentage of the population of the UK is Muslim?

a. 2.5%

b. 2.6%

c.2.7%

d. 2.8%

They’ve got to be kidding me with this, I thought. Usually when you take a multiple choice test if you have the vague notion about what the answer is you can guess correctly. The answer choices are usually like:

a. 0%

b. 92.6%

c. 2.7%

d. 53.2%

These are the kinds of choices I’m used to seeing.

I failed the practice test badly. Needless to say I actually had to study and I had three days to learn all the population information, land mass, government system and basic history contained  in the 148 page study guide.

The day of the big test arrived and I knew it was not my day when I couldn’t even figure out how to get into the testing center. I pulled and pulled on the door. Everyone sitting in the waiting room inside watched me struggle. Then the woman behind the counter motioned to me. I thought she was telling me that there was some kind of buzzer that I needed to push to get let in. So I started looking next to the door for a buzzer that wasn’t there. Then she started motioning even more. It was like some kind of strange dance. I responded by doing my own strange dance. Than a woman who was sitting in the waiting room came over and opened the door for me.

“You have to push the door,” she said, “not pull–push.” She made a pushing motion with her free hand.

“Oh,” I said.

When I told the receptionist that I was there to take the Life in the UK Test, she motioned to the seats in the waiting room and told me to wait there. She was probably thinking that I’d never pass the test because I couldn’t even manage to open the door. Luckily, I knew that there was no door opening section on the exam. That’s why I hadn’t studied that.

Everyone in the waiting room was waiting to take the Life in the UK Test. They all sat quietly looking through their study guides quizzing themselves on all those useful facts and figures that would make all of our lives in the UK much easier–like how long the UK is from its farthest point from end to end. I didn’t have my study guide with me so I read a fashion magazine instead. Learning whether it is best to wear high heel boots or strappy heels with a knit mini-dress is much more useful for my UK life then knowing that 92% of the population in the UK is white.

When it was finally time to take the test we were all led into the testing room and told to find a seat at one of the 12 computers. When the person giving us the test started passing out scrap paper and pencils I panicked. My study guide didn’t mention anything about math. Maybe that was covered in the part of the study guide I didn’t bother reading. I’m terrible at math.

Before taking the real test we took a 4 question practice test to familiarize ourselves with the computer and how to answer the questions. Let’s just say that I didn’t get 100% on the practice test. So I took it again and again and still couldn’t get all 4 questions right. Finally I gave up and took the real test.

Somehow I passed! When I left the testing center I pulled the door open with no problem. I didn’t even fall down the steps outside. I even managed to cross the parking lot without getting hit by a car. I guess I really am ready for  life in the UK.

Have You Ever Had an MRI Before?

“Have you ever gotten an MRI before?” The only other person in the waiting room in a hospital wheelchair asked me. He wore a pair of large glasses. The left lens was frosted over like the glass to a shower door.

“No I haven’t,” I replied.

He leaned forward a bit and said, “It’s nothing really. It makes a lot of noise but all you have to do is close your eyes and pretend you’re somewhere else. That’s what I did.”

“Good idea,” I said.

“It works,” he leaned back in his wheelchair and crossed his hands in his lap.

The MRI section of the hospital was sterile and space-aged– so unlike the rest of the hospital I’d seen. Workers dressed in black and white went in and out a vacuumed sealed door plastered with red warning stickers. Across the top of the door was written, “Warning high powered magnet in use.” The other stickers had pictures of objects you couldn’t take into the room like a screw driver, fire extinguisher, joint replacements, and credit card. While I sat there wondering if I’ve had any joint replacements, shrapnel, or metal fragments in my eyes that I’ve forgotten about the waiting room cleaned out and I was alone.

The MRI person finally came into the waiting room and asked me a series of questions. She quickly ran down the list checking my answers off on a clipboard. “Have you had an operation in the past month?”

“Yes.”

“How long ago?”

“Yesterday.”

Apparently this was the wrong answer because she stopped reading and said, “Yesterday? Do you have staples?”

“I don’t know my incisions are still bandaged up, but I assume not.”

She disappeared into another room to call my doctor. In a few minutes she was back.

“You didn’t have an operation. You had laparoscopy.”

“It felt like an operation to me.”

“But it wasn’t.”

She then asked me if I had any metal on my clothes and if I was wearing any jewelery. When I said I was and slipped off my wedding ring she took a good look at it and then said I could leave it on, but I’d have to take off my glasses. I felt like she was thinking that looks like plastic to me you can leave it on.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Yes. Leave it on.”

An MRI is just like a techno dance party except there’s no one else there and you have to lay completely still. I tried closing my eyes and pretending I was somewhere else, but no matter how much I pretended I was still there. When it was finally over I felt like I deserved a treat, but there was no bowl of candy by the door. Instead of a lollipop I got a ride in my wheelchair through the hospital basic and back to my room.

Hide the Fetus

I haven’t written a post in a long time and I guess I should give you some sort of explanation. Let’s just say that I’ve been a bit busy since coming back to the UK.

About a week after we got back, I found out I was pregnant. I had a whole week to celebrate and feel really excited until things started going wrong again. Since then I’ve had numerous ultra-sound scans,  laparoscopic surgery(I like to call it lascopity) , a totally unnecessary uterus vacuuming procedure, an MRI and some crazy medication injected into my rear end.

My sister says that my body likes to play a little game called Hide the Fetus. Last time it discovered that the fallopian tube isn’t really a good hiding place–too obvious. So this time it’s chosen a much better place that has all the doctors stumped. My pregnancy hormone levels keep going up, but they can’t find the pregnancy anywhere. As long as this magical hidden pregnancy progresses apparently I’m in danger.

I’m on a drug that’s supposed to make me have a miscarriage. It makes me feel really nauseous, but only if I eat something. As long as my stomach is empty I feel pretty good. The problem is that I love to eat.

There’s Something About Texas

We went to Florida for Christmas again this year. Usually, we fly through Atlanta, but this year the cheapest tickets took us through Dallas. I never understand why it costs so much more to fly direct. The more layovers you have the cheaper the flight, but doesn’t it seem like it should be the other way around?

Besides adding a significant number of hours to our trip, the Dallas airport provided us with entertainment every time. My stepson, dressed like some kind of foreign dignitary, found joy in riding the monorail between terminals. The monorail is known as Skylink to us in the know.



Lovelyn | MySpace Video

On our return trip layover, we got off the plane and were greeted by a lovely Texas scene complete with camp fire, bales of hay, and rocking chairs chained together to prevent theft.

New Year’s Resolutions

Me: Are you going to make any resolutions for next year?

My husband: No. I think I did pretty good this year.