Intrepid Murmurings

Photo Friday: Orange
Railroad Track Rusting, 2005 I just discovered an interesting photo challenge called Photo Friday. Each week there is a new theme, and anyone can post a photo relating to it. This is my first entry, the theme is orange. It is a rusting piece of a railroad track in a dump that is falling into the ocean in Kauai, called "glass beach". It is fascinating to see all the deteriorating materials as they meet with the sea. Instead of sand, the whole beach is made up of tiny fragments of tumbled glass, which comes from bottles in the dump being ground up with the waves. Not a place to build a sandcastle, but fun to poke around in, nonetheless.

MIT Study

@$% #@%$ MSIE ....
Oh no... I just discovered the blog is looking pretty horrendous in Internet Explorer these days. Dammit, I like things to look pretty! It irks me to think that it has been screwed up for weeks without my knowledge...that sucks! Now really, dear readers, do me a favor and let me know if things are looking funny to y'all (like the links aren't on the right side of this page, or the font is looking way too huge and bold...like I am shouting for days, and days and days...ewww) 'cause I just forget to check sometimes. I hope to have it looking better this evening, so please check back then. Honestly now, the best solution is for all y'all to switch to Mozilla Firefox, the browser of joy and beauty (with no pop ups, better security, and lovely features such as tabs...oh, glorious tabs!). Really, its true! And free, too! I am also going to be adding a few things soon, like an archive and recipe lists in the right column, and will be playing around with posting to catagories (though we've had some problems with that in the past....like entries that go missing in action. Yipes!).

Stuffed Bell Peppers with Tomato Sauce
We have discovered a new recipe that is quite delicious and rather easy to make. I found it on the web (thank you Wolfgang) and adapted it just a bit to make it easier, though I didn't have to do much. We have always avoided making "stuffed" things because invariably they include one or more types of an aged cow product which does not fly in our household. But looky here, I discovered one that does not, yet it is not dry, thanks to a nice dousing of tomato sauce. I, however, do secretly dream of putting a slathering of dairy on the top, but unless I cook mine in its own pot (therefore increasing the dirty dish load which I am so loath to do) that will not be happening any time soon. Stuffed Bell Peppers with Tomato Sauce (Serves 4-ish) The filling: 1/2 pound ground chicken (or meat of your choice)* 1/4 cup olive oil 1 cup diced onion 1/2 pound mushrooms, chopped (or whatever seems right, I don't measure) 2 garlic cloves minced (or more to taste) 1 egg, lightly beaten 2 tablespoons chopped parsley (or basil) 1 teaspoon chopped fresh thyme (again, substitute other herbs as desired) 1/2 teaspoon ground cumin 1-2 teaspoon(s) salt freshly ground pepper 2 cups cooked long grain rice (I use yesterday's leftovers) The rest: 2-4 bell peppers, any color 1/4 cup olive oil salt & pepper tomato sauce, homemade or from a jar 1. Preheat oven to 350 (F). 2. Prepare the chicken filling. Heat large skillet over medium high heat, add olive oil. Saute onions until translucent, then add mushrooms and garlic. Cook until all moisture evaporates (just a few minutes), stirring occasionally. Let cool. 3. While meat cools, prepare bell peppers. Wash and dry, then cut the top inch of the pepper off, keeping the stem intact. Remove seeds and core, then brush with olive oil inside and out. Sprinkle insides with salt and pepper. Set in an ovenproof dish. 4. When meat is cool, add rest of filling ingredients, including rice (also cool), herbs & spices, and egg. Stuff peppers with as much filling as they can hold, then put lids back on top. Arrange in ovenproof dish, then pour tomato sauce over peppers.** 5. Bake for one hour, or until peppers are soft and filling is cooked through. * I have used up to a pound of meat, which makes for a meatier mixture and more leftovers. ** I usually have extra filling, which can be used to fill more peppers or baked in smaller ovenproof dishes for leftovers. We also added small summer squashes to the pan, and they roasted perfectly in the tomato sauce (and kept the peppers from falling over!).

in the studio...
today's work cooking up some medium thinking about mixing my own paints yikes! shall I breathe in cadmium or cobalt?

quiz time
Which Western feminist icon are you?
brought to you by Quizilla So I stumbled upon this quiz on another blog and was humored enough to take it twice. Turns out I am either... bell hooks! You were one of the first black wymyn to discuss in public spaces the differences between being a black womyn and being a black man or a white womyn. You are the mother of intersectionality and you couldn't care less about identity politics. Thanks for making feminism accessible and calling the white, middle class wymyn on their bullshit! or I am... Frida Kahlo! You are an artistic, passionate, vulnerable person, with openly bisexual tendancies and were the first womyn to have her own gallery show in Mexico. You slept with ... Trotsky?

So there you go! Who would of thunk it?

Embryo Madness
There was an interesting article in the Seattle Times yesterday about the issue of embryo "adoption". The quotation marks are there because the language here is beginning to get tricky. For a many years the process of anonymously donating frozen embryos not needed after infertility treatment has been referred to as embryo donation. It happens rarely, but occasionally, in the ART (artificial reproductive technology) world. Embryo adoption seems to have been used by some to define another process where the biological "parents" of an embryo are matched with another couple, exchange information such as health histories and physical characteristics, and then "release" their rights to the embryo, a very similar process to that of adopting infants and children. But in these days of abortion/stem cell politics and controversy, some folks are attempting to blur the lines further and make it all embryo "adoption", therefore supporting the idea that these masses of cells should have all the rights of a human being. It has been in the news a lot, lately, in part because of the Stem Cell Research Enhancement Act of 2005, which was passed in the house but which President Bush vows to veto. Earlier this month he held a press conference with twenty-one "Snowflake Babies", encouraging "embryo adoption" as the alternative to donating frozen embryos for stem cell research and stating that "there is no such thing as a spare embryo". Yesterday's article in the Seattle Times told the story of the McClures, a couple from Bellevue with three older children and no plans for more, who heard about embryo "adoption" and felt the need to "save" a life through this process. Though they felt uncomfortable working with a fertility clinic that was in the business of creating "spare" embryos, they followed the advice of a fellow church member who said "if you want to free a slave, sometimes you have to deal with the slave owner." Alrighty then. Comparing 6 or 8 celled embryos or even 5-day-old blastocysts not implanted in a uterus, to a thinking, feeling, breathing person experiencing slavery is difficult for me, personally, to wrap my mind around, though I do acknowledge people have very strong feelings about all this. I was actually rather pleased to see the Times really did their research on this, though, and quoted many RE's (reproductive endocrinologists) in the area, including two of mine and the counselor from our clinic, about various aspects of the IVF process. They also made very clear, unlike a New York Times article a few weeks ago, the difference between transferring embryos into a womb, and the successful implantation of an embryo. The former is one part of the process, and is (relatively) easy and straightforward, the latter not so much (as I can personally vouch for). It may seem the solution to the excess embryo issue is to not make so many in the first place, but as the technology stands today, you usually do need a lot! In our case, of 34 eggs retrieved we had 15 viable embryos and three separate transfers, yet none of them actually hung around long enough to implant. It is such a painful, invasive and expensive process to actually retrieve the eggs needed to make an embryo, the thought of having to do that 34 times (and likely, more) is downright ridiculous. Hopefully, science will catch up soon with the technology for freezing eggs (as well as diagnosing/treating implantation issues), so that so many "extra" embryos won't be as needed in the future. But, we are not there yet. Some proponents of embryo "adoption" seem to think this is an easy, black and white decision, and for them, maybe it is. Statistics show, though, there are over 400,000 frozen embryos stored in US fertility clinics each year. President Bush has stated that "every embryo is unique and genetically complete, like every other human being", but what about the 60-80% or so of all naturally conceived embryos that do not implant and are flushed out of a woman's system, unnoticed? Do we now need to consider those to be human life, lost, and to work to save each of them, as well? I know most people who go through this have very personal reasons for what they choose, and I was thankful (and feel strongly that it was my right) to be given a choice in the matter. The options we had to consider before our IVF cycle (though we could always change our minds, later), were to destroy any extra embryos, donate them to research, or donate them to another person (this would all happen, of course, some time in the future if there were any left after we were done with all this family-building business). Destroying them felt silly and we ruled that out right away. The other two options were very difficult, but we decided on research in the end. We support stem cell research, because of its life-saving possibilities, and the thought of a child with our genes being raised in another family (of which we did not not know) just didn't feel right for us. It would make me even more uncomfortable if I knew our embryos might not in fact go to an infertile person/couple who desperately want it and welcome it as a precious gift, but to someone who is trying to "save" or "liberate" it from the evil people (us and the fertility clinic) who created it. I would love to hear what adoption specialists have to say about this, because from everything I have heard and read so far, it is so important to a child's well-being that his/her biological roots (and medical history) be known, acknowledged and valued, not degraded or dismissed by the adoptive family. And how important it is that the adopted child be truly wanted by the adoptive family for the unique individual that he/she is, not "saved" or "rescued" and therefore owing the adoptive family for the "sacrifice" or "good deed" they have done. I know this issue is a touchy one, almost more than any other, and one that will not be "solved" easily, or quickly, if at all. I only hope that whatever happens, people really do some research and think carefully before making decisions on all of this. Also, I hope that those who "adopt" or receive frozen embryos do it for the right reasons, and vow to do everything they can to help their children feel confident and proud of both their biological and adoptive identities, which may be difficult due to the current anonymous systems (now see, here's my open adoption bias coming through, but I'll save that for another blog post...).

Summertime....and the livin' is easy
For some folks in Seattle, this weekend marked the (un)official start to summer because school is out and summer break has begun (woohoo!). But for our household, supposed grownups and no longer in the schooling business, it was commemorated by several other enjoyable weekend events. First off, the weather was delightful (often a rarity for June in Seattle) after a week or two of rainy cloudy weather. Out came the shorts, the tank tops, the flip flops. Hooray! Also, precipitating a particular summery event in our household, was the milk delivery on Friday. Yes, for about a year now we have succumbed to the ultimate classic image of domesticity, and a chipper milkman (who ironically can't eat dairy...ha!) drives up each Friday morn in his cavernous, refrigerated transport and delivers us our usual order of fresh-off-the-cow milk, as well as eggs, orange juice, yogurt and soy milk. Most days I do a quick check of the supplies to see if we actually need all that, and adjust the order accordingly. However, because I was engrossed in relaying the news of our dear dog's death to Jerry the Milkman (and hearing a dreadful story of his dogs demise, as well) I forgot to mention that we did not need the soy. Soon, as I tried to cram all the goods into the fridge, I realized we now had a gallon and a half of soy milk for the two of us. Egads! I had to think of some way to use it ASAP. It is a tragedy (hard for some of you to imagine, I know) to pour perfectly good soy milk down the drain. So I decided the most efficient use of soy milk would be to make soy ice cream (thus transferring the excess soy from fridge to freezer, while also making it a bit more appetizing in the process). We also have a very fine electric ice cream maker that has not gotten much use in the years following diagnosis of husband's horrendous dairy allergy. I started with a "soy nog" ice cream recipe from one of our favorite dairy-free cookbooks, though I changed it quite a bit. The result, much to my delight, is an extremely close (dare I say better?) version of a childhood favorite that haunts me even today, Baskin and Robin's peanut butter n' chocolate ice cream. Rich, chocolaty, and with ribbons of hard frozen peanut butter throughout. Mmmmm...summertime here I come! Peanut Butter and Chocolate Soy Ice Cream 3 large egg yolks 1 large egg (whole) 2 ¼ cups vanilla soy milk 1 cup sugar 3 rounded tablespoons of cocoa powder (or more to taste) ½ cup creamy natural peanut butter (or to taste) (this is all that fits into our machine, if you have a big one, consider doubling the recipe!) Combine egg & yolks, soy milk and sugar in saucepan over medium-low heat. Whisk frequently until sugar dissolves and mixture is slightly thickened (about 8 minutes). Do not boil the custard! Add cocoa powder and whisk to break up lumps. Remove from heat, transfer to metal bowl, and and cool in ice bath (or in freezer) until mixture is very cold. Next, pour into ice cream maker and process according to directions (for mine about 25 min). When ice cream is almost done (it will still be somewhat soft) drizzle/drop the peanut butter in small globs while machine is still on (or stir in by hand if that is not possible). Do not overmix, you want the PB to swirl but not dissolve completely into the mixture! Eat now, or transfer to a plastic container in the freezer to harden further. The other happening during our sunny weekend that marked the start of summertime was our attendance at the annual Fremont Fair and Solstice Parade! It has been a few years for us, but the glorious weather got our asses in gear and after a longish search for street parking and then a 20 minute walk, we found ourselves perched on two rocks right at the start of the parade, with a perfect view to watch the mayham ensue. For those not in the know, the solstice parade is known for its eclectic, not quite mainstream pageantry (i.e. plenty of hippies, etc in various states of costume and undress, lots of music/drumming/dancing/antics, and human powered floats often highlighting a rather leftist view of the state of the union/world) and, of course, the naked bike riding. There were, I must say, quite a few of them this year, and they appeared to be rather organized! One small group of 20 or so opened the parade and then a large group of what could easily have been several hundred stopped it altogether for a few minutes later on. No stragglers this time....safety in numbers, perhaps? In the past there have been signs posted and threats reminders made about the possible illegality of naked bike riding, but when I try to imagine an officer in uniform attempting to chase a pack of riders sporting only their birthday suits, I can only chuckle. Not a top priority, I think. After the parade, we survived a visit to the port-o-john with the masses, and then enjoyed a gander through the vending booths, including a small purchase of summer hippie attire, and a drink at the coffee house, where miraculously a bench on the front porch was free for our comfort and amusement as we sipped our refreshments and watched the party on the street. Ahh...summertime in Seattle. Gotta love it!

this week in review
Hmmmm....things are going well here, and though we are missing Chamois, it gets easier each day. We had a good time down in Portland for the adoption seminar with our agency, and will post more on that later! We paid a visit to our alma mater, too, and ran into a few teachers, bought some vegetable plants from the greenhouse (yes, there's now a greenhouse!) at an incredible rock bottom prices, and got to see all the new buildings and construction. Yesterday I had fun visiting with the folks from the school where I used to teach but now just volunteer. They were having an all-school day-long event at Lincoln Park, just down the hill from us here in West Seattle! How could I miss out on that? Aiko wanted to go too, but 200 or so kids and an excited dog didn't sound like a great time to me... Here is an old poem I just dug up, which I wrote in college, for poetry class. Its kind of an autumn poem, but alas, seems to fit now as well. Loss Some days we are all the same-- you and I, a thread of loss weaving through time. I watch a squirrel dive into a hole. He is gone and the hollowness remains, in gaping shadows, empty branches, twisted roots. If I could just hold the world warm, in the palm of my hand; definite, true. But along with squirrels everything moves, expectations falling like acorns from a tree. We cling to an image known as truth, pure invincible, clear and shining. Then the sun shifts, colors darken, fade and that world is gone. I thought I knew. But here I am pining for what I've lost, waiting as the seasons turn, and squirrels gather nuts.

Good dog, Chamois June 1994 - June 2005 We will miss our smart boy, Chamois. He passed away in our arms tonight, and did not suffer. He was a lover of bones, cheese, stuffed animals and squeaky toys. He loved to chase deer, go on hikes, roll in the grass and ride in the car. We will miss his snuggles and kisses most of all. What a good dog he was!

Yesterday's Work
Here are my two newest pieces. Sorry about the reflections, wax really doesn't photograph well, I'm afraid! And now, the damn eternal question....are they really finished? Still such a hard issue for me. I was never one of those teachers who could snatch the kindergarteners art away and say "you're done!" -- preserving a masterpiece. I just couldn't do it! Even though I wish there was someone to do it for me...

More Adoption Assvice
Or, Two Things Not To Say When You Hear Someone Is Adopting Now that we are actually actively involved in adopting a child, we are starting to encounter in real life all things I have read about online. It is interesting & I am glad I had a little warning from my dear online buddies & bloggers. Just like with pregnancy, it seems a lot of folks have something to say when they hear the news. As one would expect, not all advice or offhand comments are particularly useful. Or sensitive. Or even close to the truth. This (to those of you not in the know) is what we like to call Ass-vice. It is the bane of many a folks in all sorts of situations. After dealing with several years of Infertility Assvice ("you know you really should stand on your head for an hour! Its PROVEN!") I feel I am very well equipped to deal with Adoption Assvice. While most of it, at least so far for me, comes from those who really do mean well, assvice is rather annoying, and sometimes a bit offensive. And while I do not tend to be one who is offended or hurt easily, I can definitely see where folks are coming from when they mention how -annoying- -frustrating- -infuriating- tough it can be to deal with some days. Take, for example, the first thing so many folks say when you tell them about your infertility or plans to adopt: "Just adopt, then you'll get pregnant!" This is frustrating on so many levels, though the problem is that it does actually happen occasionally enough to fuel the fire, so to speak. Here's what is inherently upsetting about the "just adopt" line. First off, it is totally blowing off all the agonizing, frustrating, painful and expensive treatments we, as infertiles, have gone through for months and likely years of our lives. As if all of the tests, meds, injections, treatments and procedures, diet and lifestyle changes really don't matter at all, nor does any proper diagnosis that the many trained medical professionals have come to after all said tests have been completed (not that the assvice folks have any idea how those tests went or what the professionals have determined). That if you just stop thinking about it, your infertility will just go away. Ha. While there is, much to the infertiles dismay, a small grain of truth to this (in that stress does play a small role in infertility, damn it), the fact of the matter is that it is highly, highly unlikely that I or most folks who have gone through many rounds of failed ART treatments will get pregnant on our own, the old fashioned way. For some it is downright impossible, and yet they, like the rest of us hear the "just adopt" comment from the clueless all the time. Gah! On another level, "just adopt" is upsetting because it implicitly implies that the main goal is not to parent a child but to get pregnant, give birth and then parent a biological child, and that adopting is only second best. That your adopted child will be the means to the real prize, the biological child. Even if you have not read the books and studies on this, doesn't this ring a bell as a seriously, dangerously screwed up way of thinking that will be very damaging to the adopted child and all involved? The final thing for me is that "just adopt" includes the word "just", which gives the impression that one comes easily and lightly to the decision, and that it is a easy process, perhaps even easier than pregnancy itself! Ha ha. I dare say that I have yet to meet a person, couple or family who came to the decision to adopt a child without a lot of soul-searching, thought and research, as well as emotional and financial hardship. It is not easy to adopt a child, in fact, it will be the most difficult thing my husband I have ever done in our lives! Adoption not only includes opening up of our home and lives to complete strangers, allowing the details of our personal histories and childhood, family and friends, health, finances and credit histories, criminal records and fingerprints, marriage, personal values and intended parenting styles, it also includes accepting, for life, the loss that is inherent in adoption. Though there is also joy and beauty in adoption, we, our child, and the birth family will all experience a profound loss that we will live with for the rest of our lives. Because we are choosing open adoption, we will also be entering into what we hope will be a life-long relationship with another family, whom we will not know well before we commit. This will be a challenge, but a welcome and potentially very rewarding one. While we are thrilled and excited to experience the special joy that adoption brings, it will not ever be "just" an easy little thing we chose to do one day. And Now, Part 2 Another common comment one hears when adopting (perhaps second only to "just adopt, then you'll get pregnant!" or the delightful, always appreciated and often forgotten "congratulations, you'll be great parents!") is the dreaded "You're adopting? Did you hear about couple who adopted and then....[enter Adoption Gone Awry (AGA) horror story here]?" Yes, it does seem, thanks to the lovely media attention these stories attract, everyone and his/her mother has heard of Adoptions Gone Awry (otherwise known as dissolution or reversal of adoption) though they account for less than 0.1 (yes, that is a decimal point there) percent of adoptions nationwide (Groza and Rosenberg, 1998). There is, of course, a higher instance of birthparents choosing to parent after the birth (but not placement) of an infant, and though these failed matches are very difficult, they are also a reality to be expected, an a price we pay for the many benefits of matching before before a child is born. Sadly, most folks do not hear about all the good stories, the hundreds of thousands of adoptions that go smoothly and according to plans thanks to fair, protective adoption laws, diligent attorneys and adoption agencies, effective, progressive counseling and social work, and loads of education, prep work and careful planning. Again, from my experience, I do believe those who spout these AGA horror stories generally tend to have good intentions. They are friends, family, coworkers or acquaintances who want to warn the potential adoptive parents and protect them from undue pain. But how, exactly, do they expect us to react to such comments? Do they think maybe we will change our mind and not adopt, therefore avoiding the potential pain? Is living child free a better alternative? Or maybe they think that we just don't know that there is the potential for heartache when we adopt (which takes us back to “just adopt,� the myth that one comes lightly & blindly to adoption)and need to be educated? It seems people must honestly think that we, the potential adoptive parents, have not thought of AGA, and have not spent hours upon hours researching adoption laws and processes, choosing an reputable agency (or attorney, etc) based on this, while reading countless books that address this and other adoption issues and fears. And I guess they just don't realize that Adoption Gone Awry is very likely the number one fear that most adoptive parents have, and that it is what we think about frequently, late at night when we are lying in bed, or as we obsessively google statistics on a lazy Sunday afternoon. Its funny though...I mean, how often do pregnant couples, upon announcing their happy news, get bombarded with warnings about the risks of pregnancy, including miscarriage (1 in 5), stillbirth (1 in 7), birth defects (1 in 33) and all the severe and possibly deadly health risks (gestational diabetes, pre-eclampsia, hellp syndrome, placental abruption, etc) associated with it? I would imagine most of us know that pregnancy has its risks, and that most women choosing to get or stay pregnant will do their research, or at least be aware of these risks. Most people also know enough not to bring up these kinds of things up with the pregnant woman, especially at their first announcement; we try to be supportive and positive, to not feed into her greatest fears. Adoptive parents do not get that luxury, it seems, even though most people don't really even know the risks (though they may imagine they do). The statistics speak for themselves here....it appears to me the likelihood of something going wrong with a pregnancy is far more common than the likelihood of Adoption Gone Awry. I find this disconnect odd, but chalk it up to the fact that because adoption has been under wraps of secrecy for much of its past, many folks just don't know any better. There are still so many folks who have not (knowingly) been personally touched by adoption, or that know many positive adoption stories. The word adoption is still linked to a hidden shadowy fear, based on misinformation, or lack of it. Perhaps it is also due to the fact that there is no growing belly in front of them; that to them the news of adoption is still "just" a possibility with a very fuzzy timeline, not the solid reality that it is to the adoptive parents. I think, for many people, until they see that baby in the adoptive parents arms, they don't quite believe it is real, and so they are able to bring up all the frightening (generally unfounded) things they've heard or believe without concern for the expectant parents feelings. And so it appears to be up to folks like us, regular people choosing adoption, those adopted or touched by adoption, to tell folks how it really is, the highs and the lows, the truths as we encounter them. I really do not mind discussing it all, though I would recommend avoiding the two aforementioned comments in our very first discussion. Otherwise, I may have to resort to something similar to this or this...

Matt Lyon
Sad news.....Matt Lyon, our ceramics teacher from high school, passed away Friday morning. He was in a motorcycle accident on his way to school. He was an incredible artist and teacher, a friend and mentor to so many. What I remember most about Matt is his patience, and how he was able to get even those kids who were not so involved or inspired in the rest of their classes — kids who could sometimes be a real pain in the ass — to really work hard and do well. He was spiritual but not preachy, honest but not critical, he just inspired you to do the best that you could. He was fun to be around, too, and relaxed, and that made class worth going to -- the highlight of the day, in fact. He will be deeply missed. **A memorial service will be held on Saturday, June 11. Matt’s friends and family will be gathering at 10 a.m. at St. John the Baptist Episcopal Church, the OES Chapel. There will be a luncheon immediately following the service in the OES dining hall. All are welcome. Matt’s family asks that in lieu of flowers, donations can be sent to the OES Endowment Scholarship Fund, in memory of Matt.

(Horsetail, Bainbridge Island, 2004)

This Poem's Kiss
Tonight, I start another poem that will not be finished. Yes, there will be something— a knock on the door, a teakettle whistle— it will catch my attention and I will put down the pencil, rough lines left hanging, words making only half sense. Then the phone will ring, or I’ll decide to take a shower. These thin sheets of paper will flutter softly, touched by sunset and a breeze from the open window. Honey colored shadows will creep across the floor, the deepness of night swallowing table, desk, and chair. Tomorrow I might find this half-poem sitting here alone, and think it ugly. Or I will touch it and it will stir, alive again, breath whispering words I haven’t yet thought, scolding for my negligence, forgiving, with a kiss.