Recently in Laine's haphazard life Category

The absolute best place to buy fancy -- or any -- kitchen gadgetry is the second hand store. Consignment stores always have truckloads of never used or barely used kitchen items -- my theory is that people buy fancy kitchen gadgets believing that simply having them will magically make them want/like/have time to cook, but when that doesn't happen, and the gadget has been in the box unopened for a year, they drop them off at the thrift store -- which means you can have a gourmet kitchen on a college student's budget. Here are some of the standout items I have found at thrift stores:

1. Atlas Stainless Steel Pasta Machine, $7.00 (Retails new for around $90.00)
2. Le Crueset Enameled Cast Iron French Oven 9qt., $30.00 (Retail: $299.00)
3. Le Crueset Halo Enamel-on-Steel 1.5qt Tea Kettle , $3.00 (Retail: $55.00)
4. Cuisinart Stainless Steel Automatic Burr Mill Coffee Grinder, $4.99 (Retail: 50.00)
5. Cuisinart Ice Cream Maker, $12.00 (Retail: $50.00)
6. Williams-Sonoma Glass Cake Platter, $6.99 ($65.00)
7. Marble rolling pin, $2.99 (Retail: $80.00)

I could go on and on because pretty much my whole kitchen has come from the consignment store -- all my pots and pans; all my cake, bread and muffin pans; all my baking tools -- at a fraction of retail price.

Having said that, I'm a person who believes you don't need any fancy kitchen gadgets to be a good cook or to enjoy cooking. New York Times food columnist and cookbook author Mark Bittman makes all his meals and tests all the recipes for his cookbooks in his tiny Manhattan apartment. For all the great kitchen stuff I have picked up at the thrift store, I make almost every meal with a pot or skillet, a wooden spoon, and a sharp knife. That's it.

If you need some kitchen staples or gadgets, head to the consignment store, but don't let lack of equipment stop you from cooking! Pretty much all it takes to make dinner is the desire to do so!

This morning I was walking to the bus stop and I was halfway there when I realized I was wearing two different shoes: one with a heel and one without.

Yep, that's right, I walked a block didn't notice that each half of my body was at a different height. It was like when you drive somewhere and when you arrive at your destination you can't remember any part of the drive.

Numerous and varied studies have shown that we often don't pay quality attention to the things around us. Whenever I read one of those studies, my first thought is, "Sure, maybe that happens to other people, but not me! I always know what's going on around me!" I guess I have to revise my self-assessment.

I know this much: I better start paying attention when I'm getting dressed or tomorrow I might show up at work with my pants on backwards.

Okay, so it didn't exactly get stolen. I am selling my old house and I used the TV to stage it. Since we're a one TV family, that means we're going without in our new house.

I panicked at first. "How will I fill my nights?" I gasped. "What will I do?" The answer, it turns out, is a lot! It turns out I LOVE not having a TV. Here are some of the things I've rediscovered:

1. I'm learning to play the piano.

2. I'm cooking more. Without a show or a Netflix to plop down in front of, I think, "Gosh, maybe I'll make dinner." And then I do.

3. I'm reading again. Sure, I read regularly; I'm an editor. But back when we had our TV and I would get home from work, I'd tell myself, "Ugh, I've been editing all day. I'm sick of reading! I'll just watch TV." But it turns out that was just an easy excuse to watch TV. I have plenty of mental space left for books -- and now I have the time to read them!

4. My better half and I are spending more time doing actual interactive things. Several nights in a row last week we sat at the dining room table and played board games. We played chess. We got out the video camera and filmed our dogs doing tricks.

We've been having so much fun without the TV, we don't know if we want it back. We're thinking we might keep it in the basement when we get it back and drag it up only for the occasional movie. 

Last Saturday, I tumbled out of bed and headed straight to the library. I had to return a book before the doors opened or I'd get a fine.

I'm not a morning person. At the library, I staggered around the parking lot, hand to brow, groaning, "Caaaaaw-feeeeeee...Caaaaaw-feeeeee," while drivers swerved to avoid hitting me.

Finally, my exasperated better half said, "Listen, you're not going to make it to the coffee shop [still a few blocks away from the library]. As a matter of public safety, you need caffeine right now, and there is a tea shop across the street. Let's go."

Too weak to resist, I stumbled to the tea shop. I love tea, but I knew that this morning required something stronger. I resigned myself and started chugging an Assam. It was surprisingly invigorating, and it tasted great.

I wound up having coffee later (force of habit), but the rightness of that morning tea got me wondering about tea, how it differs from coffee, and its health benefits.

Here's what I know so far:

1. All true tea comes from the same plant -- camellia sinensis -- which means all tea contains caffeine. BUT, tea has much less caffeine than coffee, often as much as 50% less.
2. Unlike coffee, tea contains the amino acid L-theanine, which can cross the blood-brain barrier and have calming effects on the brain.
3. The combination of caffeine and L-theanine in tea makes it the perfect non-jittery pick-me-up. The caffeine makes you more alert and awake, and the L-theanine helps you concentrate and stay focused. 
4.  If you want less caffeine in your tea, you can steep tea leaves for 30-45 seconds, then discard the water and re-steep the same leaves in new hot water. This will reduce the amount of caffeine in your cup of tea between 20 and 50%

I love eating alone in restaurants. It's just me, a good book, and no pressure to make idle chit-chat. But on my recent excursion to Iowa City for a workshop, I made a point of putting down my book at least during the main course.

I've been trying to pay more attention to what I eat while I'm eating it, aware that if I'm nose deep in a good book while I chomp away, I'm missing out on the pleasure of what I'm eating. Plus, it's been shown that people who don't pay attention while they eat snarf down waaay more than people who are paying attention. (For more on the fascinating psychology behind how much we eat and why, read Mindless Eating by Cornell University food researcher Brian Wansink. Great book. For more on why taking pleasure in what you eat matters, see "Eating With Pleasure," an new EL interview with nutritional psychologist Marc David).

The second reason I'm trying to give up reading during the main course is because restaurant plates are usually so big I can't see over them to my book while I eat -- and its not okay to sit on my knees in a restaurant just to get the height I need to see the printed page!

Turned out for the best, though: being fully present for the funnel cake I ate after the salmon was worth the literary absence.

(And if you find yourself in Iowa City, stop by the Motley Cow for brunch, lunch and dinner; they use fresh, local, organic ingredients and the atmosphere is charming and homey. Plus, their funnel cake is the only fried food I've ever eaten and not immediately felt like I would get type-2 diabetes.) 

I spent the morning thinking about flying pigs.

This is just a quick dispatch to tell you that I was working on a blog post (no, not this one), and it had been dragging on all morning. Not sure why. Maybe, I thought, I'm distracted by the economy. But, no, that's not it. I haven't been all that worried because the way I figure: if all heck breaks loose in the markets, we'll all be sunk -- and there's no comfort like company.

Then I thought: maybe I'm too excited about tonight's vice presidential debate (now that's my kind of sporting event!) to focus. But this presidential contest has been going on for over a year, and I've managed to get plenty of other things accomplished. So scratch that.

Is it the leaky plumbing in my new house? Goodness knows I don't want a mold problem. Could be, I guess. Is it that today's my birthday? Maybe. I did spend a few minutes this morning dreaming of what I would buy for myself if someone gifted me $10,000 (top candidate: a new, high-efficiency furnace).

Then, I thought: maybe its just plain, old-fashioned restlessness. You know, the stare-into-space-for-no-reason-at-all-despite-your-best-efforts-to-focus kind of day. The day when you try to get to the point (of your blog post, your work project, your dirty dishes, you name it) but nothing helps.

These days strike once in a while, and, in my experience, there isn't much we can do to hurry them along. They serve some purpose, I've decided. Maybe it's the brain's way of taking charge and mandating a break from our continual multitasking. Maybe it's the only way our brains can get a vacation from our usual high-speed routines.

Whatever it is, I've been trying not to get upset at myself for what I perceive as lack of ambition and focus (which is my tendency). Instead, I've been trying to expand my definition of success beyond productivity and "getting things done." I'm trying think of taking a break, staring into space, pondering everything and nothing all at once, as just as necessary as being productive.

And, look: I managed to produce something anyway -- this blog post. Giving in to my distraction netted me the result I hoped to achieve in the first place. Sure, it's not the first post I started to write, but it's probably better than the original one I couldn't get off the ground.

I love the Minnesota State Fair, which is weird, because, in isolation, every individual component of the Fair is one that I despise. I mean, please! The large crowds, the transfats, the smell of livestock. And I swear you can get Hepatitis C just by looking at the carnival rides.

Yet, inexplicably, the Fair is one of my favorite events of the year. I cannot explain why. Maybe it is the unbridled conviviality. Maybe it is the late August days, languid without being melancholy (a rare feat, I find). Maybe it is the fantastic crop art (It really IS amazing); or the 90-pound butter sculptures of Princess Kay of the Milky Way; or the prize-winning banana breads and jams and flower arrangements and pumpkins and you name it. And maybe, just maybe, it's the deep-fried pickles on a stick, though I wouldn't know since I would never eat something so unhealthy. Ahem.

What do you find inexplicably happy-making? Whatever it is, I say make it a small (or big!) part of your day today. The hectic pace and perma-stress of modern life often crowds out life's giddy little joys. So before the more serious and scholarly mindset of autumn rolls around -- and we roll back our sleeves and set our minds to big projects and prepare for winter  -- sneak out of your obligations for an afternoon and do something giddy and silly and wonderful.

You won't regret it. And if your indulgence happens to be the same as mine, I'll meet you at Sweet Martha's cookie stand. But I'm not splitting my bucket of cookies. You'll have to get your own! (Not, of course, that I would know what those unhealthy cookies taste like. I mean, please!).

At the rate The Squirrel (above) naps, she's the most political dog in the world.

True to my last post, and with the idea of vacations and taking a break on my mind (see my last post), I headed up the block to TeaSource for a cup of afternoon tea. While I was en route, a car drove past with the following bumper sticker: "The most radical thing a woman can do is rest when she is tired."

How apropos! And what a great perspective: resting as a political act, as taking a stand against our culture of perpetual inertia and constant productivity. Napping isn't just for the tired anymore! It's the pursuit of the true reformer and activist. So, good citizens -- women and men -- take a stand against being overworked and harried! Do something radical! Take a nap!

My dogs own my deck.

At my house, the arrival of summer means a spontaneous doubling of living space: my deck becomes the brightly-lit reading, dining and crafting room. My backyard fire pit becomes a second kitchen. My clothesline becomes my de facto dryer. My front steps become my phone booth (real classy like, I know). And on and on.

I'm not the only one. My dogs are also outside with a vengeance, barking at defenseless older people as they walk by and scavenging for maple tree helicopters and rocks as the mood strikes. They've also claimed the deck chairs as their own (see photographic evidence, above).

But that brings me to the matter at hand: Sharing the backyard with Spot isn't always a seamless endeavor, especially if the human family members want a garden and the canine family members treat the yard like an all-you-can-eat-buffet. There's also the matter of safety for both pets and humans. So here's some advice on how to have a beautiful backyard/extra summer living space that's also fido-friendly -- and safe for all:

1. Say NO to pesticides -- Cancer risk is much higher for pets in homes where pesticides are regularly applied to the lawn. Remember, they are putting all four paws and often their noses directly into whatever goes on the grass. They're also bringing the toxins inside with them (and so are you if you step in the lawn) where the toxins become dangerous indoor dust that everyone in the family breathes in (and even more is getting tracked onto furniture or the bed if you let your dogs lounge in those spots). Avoid chemical lawn treatments and embrace natural weed control instead, including:

•  Corn gluten meal -- inhibits seed germination and is a pre-emergent weed killer. Apply in early spring before weeds come up.
•  Mulch -- mulches help control weeds naturally, but avoid using cocoa bean mulch in any area where dogs have free rein. Cocoa is toxic for dogs when ingested.
 • Rock gardens -- Rocks as mulch are also pretty, and are generally safe for Spot. But if your dog is a serious backyard grazer, avoid them -- especially if the rocks are small and your dog is small (big things happen fast in small intestinal tracks). Eating too many rocks can cause intestinal blockage and, in some cases, death.
• Let your yard go natural -- this is perhaps the healthiest (and simplest and cheapest) option for your personal health, for your pet's health and for the environment.

2. Un-treat your lumber -- Treated lumber is loaded with nasty chemicals, including arsenic, that can leach into the dirt where Fido digs and sometimes snacks. Stick with untreated cedar for garden borders or fencing.

3. Fix-up burned grass naturally -- The backyard doubles as your dog's bathroom and you can often tell exactly where they go #1 because of the burned grass. Apply Gypsum to the to the affected areas to help minimize burns. You can also try putting a little brown sugar on the affected area and watering. This is said to help attract worms, who in turn help aerate the soil and improve drainage. (Note of caution: dogs may want to snack on lawn care additives that smell like, or are, food. So apply before a big rain or water well to keep them from grazing on your soil amendments.)

4. Plant dense -- Dogs have bad depth perception and can't always see single plantings (which means they are more likely to tear through them). Plant dense to help Spot see what's coming as he tears around the yard. (Note, this will not help if your dog is simply naughty.) Another bonus: dense plantings naturally inhibit weeds.

5. Get a motion activated sprinkler -- Most dogs hate getting wet, so a great way to keep dogs out of backyard gardens is to put a motion activated sprinkler in the bed and wait for Spot to saunter over and lift his leg. He'll get soaked and saunter off and your garden will get a nice mist. Kill two birds with one stone!

My free cup didn't have whip cream. Sigh. Maybe I'd have drunk it if it did. (Photo credit: Scott Beale / Laughing Squid)

Having woken up late (per the usual), skipped breakfast and hair washing (sorry, aesthetics), I was flying to work one day last week when I realized that I wouldn't make it through my morning meeting if I didn't get something to eat. So I breezed into an upscale chain bakery that happened to be en route.

Me to Cashier: I'll have one of those buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things to go.

Cashier: Comin' up! Would you like a cup of coffee with that? We're giving away a small cup of coffee with the purchase of buttery, quiche-y, egg-and-spinach-y things!!!

Me (desperate for a cup of coffee, but having just spied the stack of Styrofoam to-go cups from which, on (health) principle, I do not drink): No, thanks. I'm okay.

Cashier (undeterred): C'mon it's free! I'll get you a cup!!

Me (lying): No, no. I've had too much this morning already. But, thanks.

Cashier: Nonsense! There's no such thing as too much caffeine -- and it's free! Here! Here's your free cup! Take it, it's free!

Me: . . .

Cashier (beaming): . . .

This free cup of coffee should have made my morning, right? Been a bright spot in an otherwise routine day? I mean, what kind of loser gets depressed when they get something for free?

Well, I was depressed. So by my own logic I concluded I was a loser and just got on with my commute. But later I thought about it more, and something dawned on me: right from the start, my free cup of coffee was far from free.

First off, the cup was made of polystyrene foam, a dangerous synthetic material that has been known to leech toxic materials into the beverages it contains (polystyrene contains benzene, a known human carcinogen). The stuff also takes over 900 years to biodegrade and causes starvation in marine wildlife (polystyrene is one of the most ubiquitous marine pollutants). What's more, producing polystyrene is a huge energy hog. That adds up to a pretty steep environmental and personal health cost for a "free" cup of coffee.

Next, there was the cost to my newly clean car. After I poured the coffee on the grass, the cup was about to become free-floating garbage in my beleaguered Subaru. This seems like a small cost in the grand scheme of things, I know. But stuff adds up, and it takes a psychic toll (especially if, like me, your car tends to serve manifold functions, including purse/lunch cart/storage unit/roving Dumpster). This cup = more stuff = more psychic toll. (The high number of consumer products produced today also takes an environmental toll. Check out the great interactive video, The Story of Stuff, for a clear-eyed picture of the life cycle of stuff.)

Another cost of my free cup of coffee? My annoyance at my inability to refuse it. I felt like I'd been forced into the free coffee, but in reality, most cases of feeling forced into something are really cases of us having said yes despite our wish to say no. So then I became annoyed with myself for having not stuck to my guns and said no. Then I became doubly annoyed that such a simple thing should be so hard to say no to, and then I became triply annoyed that boundaries and limitations and being clear are such hard things to master. I'm an adult, for goodness sake. How hard is it to set a boundary with the bakery counter guy?

I've read that getting better at saying no takes practice (read more on how to say no here), and that the best place to start practicing is in low-stakes settings like, say, a bakery. Sigh. I guess I need more practice. So I'm heading back to the bakery tomorrow, but just in case I still can't refuse, I'm bringing my own refillable mug. Then, at least, good coffee won't go to waste.