WanderingAmylessly 2.0

To answer my niece's question: Yes Bri, I CAN eat sushi on this cockamamie detox plan. We made some tonight. I had veggies only, I had to swap my regular soy sauce for wheat-free Tamari, and the sights and smells of Tim's spicy shrimp roll and Philly roll nearly sent me over the edge. But I consumed rice, seaweed and wasabi. Overall, it was a fairly great experience. Several times, I felt the need to reach for my glass of wine. Which of course was not there. I went to our food co-op for the second big grocery outing of the cleanse and made some fun discoveries. Amy's brand (how could you not love that?!) organic soups have at least four varieties that are vegan and contain nothing forbidden to me: Low fat split pea, low fat black bean vegetable, lentil vegetable and -- for the big winner of the day -- spicy CHILI! Stay tuned for my review of one of Oprah's recipes that features something I'd never heard of before -- Tempeh. It's soybeans bound in cake form , thr

This was so yummy it could become a favorite, whether I'm a veg-head or not! Substitute "regular" foods where you wish. I'm sure they'd still be fab. Black Bean Cakes with Lime-Peppered Mayo Another recipe courtesy of Tal Ronnen/Oprah Serves 4 These Southwest-inspired black bean cakes are crispy on the outside, moist on the inside and perfectly seasoned. Serve them with Spanish brown rice and guacamole for a complete meal. INGREDIENTS Black Bean Cakes: * 30 ounces cooked black beans, rinsed and drained * 2 Tbsp. vegan margarine, softened (try Earth Balance brand) * 2 Tbsp. chopped cilantro * 2 Tbsp. chopped shallots * 2 tsp. minced garlic * 2 tsp. Creole seasoning * 1/4 cup bread crumbs made from wheat-free bread (I used the millet) * Salt and pepper to taste * 1/4 cup canola oil Lime-Peppered "Mayo": * 1 cup vegan mayonnaise (try Vegenaise) * 1 1/2 tsp. fresh lime juice * 1 jalapeño pepper, minced (I proba

I was wrong. (Shock! Say it can't be!) We watched the fourth episode of Swingtown last night, blowing right out of the water my prediction that it wouldn't last past epi three. I'm not sure it's gotten any better, but I'm strangely drawn to it. If you haven't partaken of this little slice of bell-bottomed Americana (it airs at 9 p.m. central time on CBS), you can check out some clips here . You also can learn more about the cast and even chat with fellow viewers about the issues raised by the show. It's amazing how much time and energy people put into watching a show that they say they hate and that they claim threatens our nation's moral fiber. Take a deep breath people. Don't get your polyester in a twist. And for a little entertainment trivia: one of the show's directors is Alan Poul, who also directed episodes of Big Love (everyone's favorite Mormon polygamy drama) and Six Feet Under . The cherry on top is that he was executive producer

I must be psychic. No, not psycho (I'm so definitely that). Either that or I'm starting a trend. Or, more likely, I'm a lemming. I swear I had no idea, until I went surfing the Net this evening, that Dooce is also in the midst of a "cleanse." I already loved this woman -- she's an ex-Mormon living in Utah with a potty mouth, a 4-ish-year-old daughter, a diagnosis of depression, and a great story (she got fired from her job for writing about her job, in often a rather unflattering light, on the blog, and sometimes writing the blog itself during work hours). She's also making something like 6 figures from her blog and just published her first book. Maybe I hate her, actually. So I didn't know about Oprah. And I didn't know about Dooce. Who else out there has plunged off the cliff into the vastness of veganism? Fess up. Turns out,though, that she may not be getting the same positive vibes from the plan that I am. Click here for the post that may pro

Did I ever tell y'all that I resigned from my temp job with the call center? Well, I did. Over a month ago. I think I just didn't want to talk about it. When temp jobs aren't temp enough for you, you might as well throw up your hands in defeat. But my coworkers -- some of the nicest I've had at any job, anywhere -- were incredibly sweet about my departure and one woman even brought bagels for my last day (oh, to recall a day when bread products weren't verboten...) There were lots of hugs and good-luck wishes, but before I could even get out the door, another department showed interest in hiring me for part-time temp work. Now I'm providing support to the claims department, calling providers to get copies of claims that have been open for several months or longer. No one calls me to complain or yell or vent or try to blame me for their deficiencies. Unfortunately, I'm not doing much writing. It's not that I don't have time -- I only work 20 hours a

Exquisite cuisine discovery! I cooked half of a 16-oz bag of Tinkyada Pasta Joy Ready Brown Rice Pasta Spirals (wheat/gluten free) according to package directions. In another pan, I heated a can of JYOTI brand Punjabi Chhole (which is chick peas with potatoes and onions in Indian cuisine) and poured it over the pasta. Four servings. Incredibly yummy. And it had nothing whatsoever to do with Oprah.

As promised... Tofu Scramble Recipe courtesy of Tal Ronnen/Oprah Winfrey Serves 4 INGREDIENTS * 2–3 Tbsp. extra-virgin olive oil * 1 sweet onion, cut into chunks * 5 garlic cloves, minced * 2 Tbsp. nutritional yeast * 1/2 tsp. ground ginger * 1/2 tsp. chili powder * 1/2 yellow or green bell pepper, seeded and chopped * 1 cup sliced mushrooms * 4 tomatoes, chopped * 1 pound firm tofu, drained well and cut into bite-size pieces (Amy used firm but thinks extra firm would be even better...not fond of the squish factor) * Tamari to taste * Freshly ground pepper to taste * Fresh snipped chives to taste Heat the olive oil over medium heat in a large skillet and sauté the onion for 5 minutes, until softened. Add the garlic, nutritional yeast and spices, stir and cook for 1 minute. Add the pepper and mushrooms, stir-frying until tender and crisp. Add the tomatoes and slices of tofu. Gently stir-fry for 3 to 4 minutes. Sprinkle with the tamari

A friend e-mailed/forwarded this photo to me with the headine, "New Shoes for Midwestern Women." I couldn't resist sharing.

I'm on day 3 of "detox" as I'm calling it. I have a splitting headache, thanks to no caffeine since Friday. I went cold turkey. I'm sure I'm hell to live with. I'm sorry, but even vegans aren't this militant and radical about what they say NO to. As long as it's fair trade, I think most of them drink coffee. But I made a deal with myself to do this for three weeks and see how I feel at the end. So far, I've not been starving. Tofu is now the number one staple in my diet. Yay, soy! I was saddened to learn that dried cranberries have added sugar, so ixnay on my favorite nuts-and-berries trail mix. Guess I'll have to concoct my own. My favorite recipe so far has been "tofu scramble" from the kitchen of Oprah's diet gurus. I'll post it sometime soon. Forgive me if you're just not into these posts on my current wacky lifestyle choice. I'm sure it'll lose its quirky newness soon. I'm saving the daily food diary e

I went to the whole-foodsish-type place today to scout out the detox goods. I also hit the megagrocery to gather sustenance for my men, who refuse to cooperate with my nonsense and requested frozen pizza and hot dogs among the necessities for the coming week. After about 15 minutes of perusing, I came to the conclusion that the amount of food I will be able to eat in the next 21 days (not counting the produce section, which I basically bought out) could easily fit in the candy section of the express lane. Everything we consume is so incredibly processed. I'm floored. If it doesn't have sugar, it has gluten. If it doesn't have gluten, it has dairy. If it doesn't have dairy, it's some other animal product. And don't even get me started on the artificial this'es and that's that I can't even pronounce. Any number of flavorings, colorings, gums and etc. I'm all for protecting our natural resources, living green, and being kind to fellow creatures. But

My newfound career as a concert clarinetist turned out to be a brief one. After one rehearsal, the sky rained down and the river spilled its banks. So I had rehearsals and scheduled concerts canceled ever since. This morning, I finally had my second practice with the group. And -- with any amount of luck that we, thus far this season, have not seen much of -- we'll perform on the downtown Pedestrian Mall tonight. During my first rehearsal, I was asked to introduce myself to the band, and I shared with them the story of my niece regifting the refurbished clarinet to me. There were lots of "awwww"s and a smattering of applause. Several people came up to me after to thank me for sharing and for joining the band. The most jaw-dropping moment for me came when the band director looked to the first-chair clarinet player and said, "Himie, a C for the band, please." Himie? Himie? There surely cannot be another Himie who plays the clarinet?! Those of you from out of town

I'm contemplating doing something that my husband may divorce me over. Well, maybe not that drastic. But he'll tease me mercilessly and will, in no way no how, follow me down what he'll feel is my wayward path. I'm thinking about trying the 21-day Vegan Diet. I didn't even know Oprah was doing it until after I'd gotten as far in my planning as surfing the Web for details on my plan to detox my body and go as whole-food and healthy as possible. I want everyone to know, in no uncertain terms, this was my idea and Oprah had no influence whatsoever. In fact, once I found out about her, I almost abandoned my plan. Then I found out she has sample menus and recipes on her Web site. I refuse to read her blog. But a little free advice and food suggestions couldn't hurt. I think I'll follow the direction of Kathy Freston's book "Quantum Wellness." For the next 21 days, I will be avoiding the big FIVE: * Caffeine * Sugar * Alcohol *

There's a day for everything . I take that back. I've never heard of a national Amy day, but there's always time. If I really felt compelled, I'm sure I could garner a little grassroots support. But back to my original point. I just learned that we can all put on our party hats on Sunday and give a big cheer to...altogether now... The Chocolate Eclair. Because June 22 is, in fact, National Chocolate Eclair Day. Who created this day, I have no clue. Maybe Jenny Craig. Evil opportunistic witch. For those of you unfamiliar with this treat, it is a long, thin pastry filled with cream and topped with chocolate frosting. Internet sites guesstimate it was invented in 19th-century France. And the tradition continues, thanks to the fine folks at Dunkin' Donuts, for a mere 300 calories and 15 grams of fat. If only we had one around here. (Then again, if we did, chances are it'd be hip deep in the flood plain.) Maybe I'll have to settle for a frozen Weight Watchers ver

The Highway 6 bridge just opened over the Iowa River, connecting our side of town with west Iowa City. Every day, we seem to be experiencing a few more of these glimmers of light in the darkness that enveloped our community. It'll make our trip to Coralville for Henry's gymnastics lesson tonight a bit less traffic-congestion-choked. Why do we take H clear across town for lessons? Well, we don't, usually. Our regular gym cleared out all its equipment when the floodwaters threatened. Workers are still returning the rings and beams and bars to their respective places on the mats. I don't know about anyone else, but having a few more "escape" routes open makes me feel much less claustrophobic. Now I will have another way to get far away from Dubya, who is allegedly visiting our town today. He thinks he'll be our savior. Do you think he realizes that he's neck deep in enemy territory? Better be careful, Mr. Prez...we've all got the liberal disease, and

Tim grabbed this wine tonight to eat with our grilled meal of salmon steaks. Well, we had a different variety and year, a 2006 Central Coast Syrah, but it was by the same winery, the Cycles Gladiator. It was described on the vintner's Web site as: "An intriguing combination of raspberry and wild plum aromas framed by fresh cracked pepper and pretty oak notes... Gold Medal, 2008 San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition!" I thought he chose it because of its award-winning tradition. Silly me. He shared with me the real reason he picked it (that old judging-a-wine-by-its-label philosophy hard at work). And I quote: It's the perfect label. Naked lady and a bicycle.

This morning, in an effort to return to any sort of normalcy, I dropped H off at preschool and walked over to the Ped Mall to grab a cup of coffee. In the two short blocks or so that I walked, every person I passed was either a law enforcement officer, a National Guardsman, a rep of the Army Corps of Engineers, a Red Cross Disaster Services team member, or an Americorps volunteer. I felt a lump grow in my throat. I barely resisted the urge to throw my arms around these people and tell them, "Thank you for helping to save our town." I've never felt so protected and cared for, ever. In the midst of this misery, here are people who have dedicated their lives to make ours whole again. We welcome them to our community. And we hope they don't take this the wrong way -- because they are truly our heroes -- but we can't wait until we don't need them anymore. Want to help? Donate to United Way Midwest Flood Recovery . Or to the Red Cross: 1-800-REDCROSS or online . Or

You thought I might forget. Some of you might have hoped. I might be preoccupied with our soggy situation here, but there's no way I'd let this day pass without some sort of acknowledgment. Today, California officials began issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples. I feel like I should somehow insert some applause, streamers and confetti, maybe a marching band blasting an arrangement of Kool and the Gang's Celebration. I hesitate, probably out of fear that someone will put a halt to it all with a federal injunction or some overturned ruling or -- shudder -- a bomb in a city hall. But I know there are couples out there tying the knot on the West Coast, and I'll try to keep my paranoia in check. Happy honeymoons to you, especially the two octogenarian ladies who were the first in line today for a license in San Francisco. The mayor married them. You might be saying, "Only in California." I'd say, "Not for long." What are you trying to protect

See that big building in the middle of the frame? The one with the green swooping roof structure? The one smack dab in the middle of a body of water formerly known as Highway 6 in Coralville? Well, that's our bank. Welcome to Wells Fargo. Grab a mop. We just rented a safe deposit box there, maybe a couple months ago. Now we're trying to remember just how far off the floor it was. We didn't have any priceless artifacts in there, but we did have our marriage certificate and some stock papers, enough to be a headache to replace. Among the other notable photos of the day was one that showed Highway 1, near Mount Vernon -- or, rather, what used to be Highway 1. The river flowed over it for a time and, it seems, took a large chunk with it when it left. Several sections of the road seem to have shifted. I compared it to the aftermath of an earthquake when the pavement cracks and buckles. This was the road used by Tim and his college buddy Darin of Mt. Vernon when they'd meet u

I think I've discovered the only good thing to come of our record-breaking moisture. All that precip has led to my best bumper crop of cherries from the tree in the northeast corner of our backyard. I picked about 40 cups of them this afternoon, gave two bags away to friends, baked a pie with a golden, flaky lattice crust, and still have a giant mixing bowl full for snacking. And the tree looks like it hasn't been touched. I bet I could pick at least three or four batches as big as the one I gathered today. Anyone have favorite cherry recipes? Please share. If you want cherries for yourself, I'll share. Just come on over; we'll have the ladder ready. I thought about taking pictures. But Tim was simply too exhausted from disaster coverage to deal with me playing Martha Stewart needing visuals. He'll probably have more opportunities to shoot the fruit. I don't think I will be able to wait until tomorrow to cut into the pie, though. Especially since I just pulled

Keep checking the flickr site for UI News Services where Tim is putting the images from his daily shoots. He had an eventful Father's Day. After spending a little time with H this morning while I took a 25-mile bike ride along the flood zone south of Iowa City, Tim got a call from a UI facility services guy who took him out for several hours. He got some unique access, in particular to the arts campus. I've been quite stern with him every time he leaves the house: be careful, don't do anything stupid, don't die. I think that pretty much covers it. So he waited a while this afternoon, seriously hesitating, before telling me that he walked over an elevated railroad bridge across the flooded west campus to get some particularly startling shots. (Excuse me while I go bang my head against a hard wall.) The river's crested. It's supposed to be a couple days before it starts receding, though. And the historians note that the '93 flood occurred around July 4 but th

I'd bet more than a few people in our area and other parts of the Midwest have described the current flooding situation as "shitty." Frighteningly so. First, there's the fact that wastewater sewers have backed up into the floodwaters. Then there's the pastures of cow dung, dog park deposits, septic tank seepage, etc., that have been overcome by raging rivers. And I'm sure if I thought about it, I could come up with some other sources of fetid fecal matter finding their way into the waterways that once were our streets, bike paths, homes, favorite restaurant hangouts and beloved hubs of campus cultural activity. The local TV anchors can't stop talking about it. Granted, they're performing a community service by warning people like my nutty photog husband that the unsanitary stew they're all eager to slosh around in contains very nasty stuff. Despite the seriousness, these TV nutballs titter and stammer as they describe the various contents. One wom

As I write this, the Iowa River is cresting, just over 31 feet...two feet lower than they had first predicted. Incredibly wonderful news. Even so, at least 12 buildings on campus have been flooded at last count. Tim is spending his father's day working. The weather radio alert is going off -- we're now under a severe thunderstorm watch until 7 p.m. And I'm taking Henry to see Kung Fu Panda. Ugh. The world feels very unsteady beneath our feet right now.

And here's Tim's latest weather photos.

A stretch of Interstate 80 closed yesterday in the county just to the east of us because the Cedar River began flowing over top of it. Check out the time-lapse photography on the IDOT site. Note the RAPIDS forming on the left side of the screen. This interstate highway is four lanes, with a large grassy median in between eastbound and westbound lanes. I-80 is the main east-west arterial freeway through southcentral Iowa. Don't know what the recommended detour is for getting across our state, but if the detour for travelers to get between Iowa City and Cedar Rapids is any indication, lots of people will be going way the hell out of their way. At last check, the recommended detour for getting to CR from IC is by driving west on I-80 to Des Moines, then north on I-35, east on highway 20 to Waterloo and back south to CR. That turns a normally 25-30 mile trip into a 281-mile quest. But there's really no need to even leave the house tonight, since we're under a mandatory curfew.

We're in the midst of our third severe thunderstorm warning of the afternoon. Tim and I watched serious rotation in the clouds as the first two cells passed over. The tornado sirens went off during the first storm. Reports of 3-inch hail and torrential rain, along with 60mph winds just north of us. Stay tuned...

Photo from Phoebe Webb/Daily Iowan This is a photo of our HyVee Gas Station. It sits right next to our HyVee grocery store, where Henry and I went this a.m. to grab some last-minute items (including Father's day cards...Dad and Paul, we apologize in advance but I'm not sure when we will get mail service back to get them to you). Volunteers were sandbagging all around the store. The male store workers were wearing shorts and no ties: unheard of at HyVee. Life is just plain weird around here. Cross your fingers that the weather guys are wrong. They're calling for severe storms with heavy rains tonight and tomorrow.

Tim just left for a big emergency management meeting on campus; the powers that be will dispatch him to wherever they need him to document the flooding. To see more of his photos as they come in, visit the University News Services' Photo Site .

The picture quality's bad, and the car driver is an idiot for maneuvering through flood water, but the following video was taken yesterday just after the breach in CRANDIC railroad embankment along the popular Coralville Strip. One of the first flooded businesses shown is the restaurant we helped to sandbag last Sunday. And today, the water's doing nothing but going up and up.

The University has ordered everyone to stay home for the next week, except for essential personnel. Guess which certain photographer has been designated as "essential personnel." Tim is currently shooting campus flooding, following the University president touring with the Iowa governor. He expects to work straight through the weekend. He's a journalist at heart, and he'll be putting his skills to use documenting history. For continuing coverage of the Flood of 2008 from the perspective of our University photographers, visit here .

If you're into praying, please do it. Now. Our city's in peril. There are whisperings that the dam could break. We'd be talking a mini Katrina disaster here. I'm leaving work in about 20 minutes to go get Henry and get home before they close all the streets to and from downtown. Last word from Tim is that the art campus is taking in water at a furious pace, as is the Iowa River Landing where the new Marriott Hotel and conference center is located. The levee was breached there earlier this a.m. My parents left to go back to Kansas after a week visiting; they wanted to get out while there was still a way to get out. I'm not being melodramatic. I'm deadly serious.

I spent most of the morning sandbagging in Coralville at the public works building. Large dump trucks were taking the sandbags and hauling them to places most in need. But in a sad turn of events, the stretch of road Tim and I were sandbagging at over the weekend just suffered a breach of the Clear Creek embankment/levee/whatever and water is pouring into the area at an alarming rate. The Army Corps of Engineers is now speculating that the Iowa River crest early next week could be more than 4 feet higher than the record-setting levels of '93. Many in our community believe time is running out and there will be a point in the not too distant future when the routes out of town will be cut off and we will all lose power and water. Tim still thinks that might be an overreaction. I'm not taking any chances. I fought the crowded aisles at the store to grab jugs and bottles of drinking water, non-perishable snacks, hand sanitizer, and baby wipes. I'm charging up any technical equip

I learned something new today, adding to my rapidly increasing repertoire of knowledge I didn't want to know about flooding as this disaster progresses. The experts are now calling this a 500-year flood event (compared to a 100-year flood event in '93). I thought it meant this was a kind of flood that happens only once every 500 years. Not so. According to the weather guy on our local news, a 100-year flood is calculated to be the level of flood water expected to be equaled or exceeded every 100 years on average. But the 100-year flood is more accurately referred to as the 1 percent flood, since it is a flood that has a 1 percent chance of being equaled or exceeded in any single year. Wikipedia notes that a 100-year flood has approximately a 63.4 percent chance of occurring in any 100-year period, not a 100 percent chance of occurring; 500-year floods have a 0.2% chance of occurring in any given year. This afternoon's headline on the Press-Citizen Web site read simply -- W

I have one thing to say. To shout. To scream at the top of my lungs. STOP RAINING, ALREADY!!!!!! To read the latest news about our flood of 2008 -- projected to be worse than the history-making flood of '93 -- click here . One piece of news yesterday rocked the University of Iowa community and, I'm sure, sent the General Counsel scrambling. The University revealed that a coffer dam project on the Iowa River in the heart of campus is actually making the flooding worse. The technical jargon makes my head hurt, but basically they were building a dam to hold back the water so they could build a giant water pipe under the river that will carry chilled water from one side of campus to the other. I've dubbed the project "The Curse of the Coffer Dam" because this project has gone on for years, been plagued with engineering failures and delayed by, go figure, bad weather. Now they're saying it's causing the river level to be much higher than it normally would. Are

I've never lived in a town facing a serious crisis. Until now. Our city is facing a flood . The Iowa River is spilling its banks, and the Army Corps of Engineers has projected that the reservoir and dam that control the amount of water flowing into the river will reach their overflow point sometime later this week. Water will breach the spillway and pour into the already swollen river. Yesterday, for the first time this spring, officials said the words no one wanted to hear: "The flooding is expected to reach levels that could be as high, if not higher, than 1993." The flood of '93 is one that people around here seem to mention nearly every time we get a hard rain. It was the same flooding that plagued communities up and down the Mississippi River and its tributaries. So far, a few streets have been closed, everyone's favorite park -- including the Shakespeare theatre -- is under water, our bike path has been covered, and sandbag barriers surround buildings all a

I just noticed that the last post brought my total number of posts for Wandering Amylessly to 666. Just can't have that.

My husband continues to use his machine-washed cell phone with no detectable difficulties. Meanwhile, my phone stopped keeping a charge. I'd charge it up, talk for 10 minutes, and it would power down with no warning. I hung up on Tim, my mom, a couple friends and my boss at various times during the past few weeks. A chat with "Skippy" the so-cool-everything-bores-him employee at the local Verizon store revealed my sparse options. A battery replacement would be $50. On a three-year-old phone. Or, for less than half that, I could trade in for a new phone. So I have a new phone, while Tim's stuck with his formerly water-logged communications device, waiting for the evidence of fried parts to show itself. Not fair is it. We should've both just bought iPhones. By the time my phone contract's up in two years, maybe Apple will have lowered the price enough we could actually afford them.

Tim and I watched Swingtown and immediately made note of several things: 1. I'd be more interested in the show if the people didn't look like they got dressed in the dark and had their last haircut from a Weed Wacker. 2. Couldn't they have found prettier looking people? 3. This would be so much better -- or at least more realistic -- on HBO or some venue in which they could show skin and swear. 4. The retro product placement was the reward for watching the whole hour. When someone's popping open a tin can of Tab, you can't help but get nostalgic. (Technically, I'm not sure how nostalgic I can be. The year in which the pilot takes place -- I was 5 years old.) 5. I bet it's canceled by episode three.

New summer programming alert: Swingtown The show, set in 1970s America and focusing on the sexual liberation of married couples, is being called "the most-anticipated show of the year" (by whom, I don't know, since I only heard about it this morning). It airs tonight at 9 p.m. central time on CBS. The shock value alone could be remarkable, but I doubt it will be. It's network TV. Be real, it's CBS. The network that appeals to the AARP/Angela Landsbury crowd. Still, I've heard that the pilot includes a menage a trois, major drug use and an orgy. What a way to debut. A review in the San Jose Mercury News that I just linked to gives it a mediocre rating, mostly for lack of plot. If you want to watch a show about sex with no plot, I think there are other more rewarding options available for you, one with all the bits and pieces exposed. I might check this out. Or not. I appreciate CBS's attempt to push the envelope, but I fear it's more for sensationalism

Ryan Shupe and the Rubberband The name of the folk/bluegrass group, alone, might reel you in. It's clever and fun, just like the group's lyrics and licks. I'm inviting you to give them a listen. They originated in Ogden, Utah, where I lived for 4.5 years, and I actually met some of them and heard them play live a couple times. They have a new album out called Last Man Standing . But I'm a personal fan of this song from a previous album:

Oh, ye of little faith. I'm not sure whether it was the removal of the battery asap, or the rubbing alcohol, or the rice, but last night, Tim powered up his cell phone and... It actually powered up! It didn't smoke or smolder or melt onto the table or anything! We'll see how long the good times last. For now, we're mucho-pleased-o that we didn't have to shell out mucho dinero for a new phone. There is something a scosh funky going on with the screen. Sort of an image that looks not unlike a water glass ring on a table. A minor inconvenience, in the scheme of things. So, my new question to you all out there...how do you think Tim's handling the news that his super secret stealth plan to destroy his current device in an effort to finagle a new iPhone is a complete failure??

As I travel my path to mindfulness through meditation, yoga and group therapy, I plan on dragging you all along. Fair warning. Our first session last night offered an introduction into what the group facilitator calls "the mindfulness practice." She says: Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy teaches us that we can choose how we relate to painful and pleasant thoughts, images, and mood states. This has the power to increase or decrease the degree of suffering we experience. The next eight weeks are an opportunity for you to investigate your experience of depression and/or anxiety as well as other aspects of your life in this light and to see if, in fact, it is true. Through daily practices of relating to yourself and your experience mindfully, you will develop skills that allow you to see clearly what is occurring, to recognize that you have choices regarding how you relate to it and to practice making choices from a place of wisdom and compassion rather than from habit and sel

I just experienced an odd, out-of-body, flashback, time warp, demonic posession type moment. I assembled my clarinet, gave my woodwind reed a few licks to wet it for proper play, placed it on the mouthpiece, stood in front of some B-flat clarinet sheet music and fully expected that to be where my first official practice in the last 18 years would end. Then some rather psychotic force took over, and my hands effortlessly fingered song after song, from Twinkle Twinkle and Happy Birthday to Ragtime tunes and Mozart. I never even looked at the fingering chart. Not once. Even sharps and flats. My fingertips slipped from one position to the next as if I'd never had a nearly two decade break from my horn. My breath technique needs some work. My jaw's aching from tightening it to hit the high notes. I'm guessing I might have trouble counting anything other than four-four time. But my mind and my digits remembered, and I have to say, it felt like coming home. Next Saturday's my