A Basketful of Music

I've recently spoken ill of country music, both on this blog and a few facebook comments, so I'm going to make a few amends.  Sort of.  You'll have to read through to the end to find the best part.

Country is probably not my first choice in listening, but if one is in the car, and one is sleepy, and one has only a few stations from which to choose, I have found that country is a musical category that one can listen to, even when one is not familiar with the songs being played.  I don't know why that is.  Oldies, too.

But hip-hop, or rap...  Boy, if you don't know the songs, it just sounds like ever so much noise.  Perhaps that is due to my age?  My oldest daughters seem to have no trouble at all with new dance songs...

Regardless of my preference, the radios stations in my neck of the woods are somewhat limited.  I can pretty much always tune into a country station.  I can pretty much always get NPR.  And if it's during daylight hours I can get AM talk radio and an oldies station.  In the name of full disclosure, I can also, if I choose, get a variety of sports and Christian stations, but generally, I do not generally choose them.  I am not a sports nut, and I prefer to get my Spiritual Food from other venues.

Last night on the way into Thief River, I tuned into the Public Radio show, American Routes.   It's a show I've found interesting and entertaining in the past.

One of the reasons I rag on country and pop music is because of the blatant and subtle messages so often promoted.  But I heard an oldie last night on American Routes that totally cracked me up. I suppose that contemporary country and pop and rap have no monopoly on "untoward" messages. After So Round So Firm, So Fully Packed by Merle Travis was done, the announcer explained that back in the days when both cigarettes and commenting on the female shape were more in vogue, this song brought the two together metaphorically.    Apparently that description in the title is of the preferred kind of cigarette.  Hmmm.

I heard another very cool segment, an interview with Sonny Landreth, who has apperantly made a specialty of blues slide guitar.  I'm married to a quite adept guitarist, but I've never heard tones like this.  It was amazing. Mr. Landreth calls it the finding the voice of the guitar, and truly, it had a very vocal quality. 

I kind of lost interest in American Routes later in the show, and I'm quite glad I did.  I tuned in to a country music station. Yes, I did.  And I heard a song I really, really liked.  Good voice, good background music, and best of all terrific lyrics.  Good job, Craig Campbell.

There's dirty shirts to wash

Dishes in the sink to do

And there's how many times

Does 17 go into 52

There's bedtime prayers to pray

Sleep tights and I love you's

And then there's a pair of eyes

I get to lose myself into 

 Sounds like my life.

Mission Impossible: The Great Inhaler Chase

Prologue
Once there was a family who had several kids and a mom with very infrequent and mostly mild asthma.

Because of the infrequency of the mild asthma attacks, keeping up-to-date inhalers on hand was always a bit of a challenge.  Usually the mother of this family was on the ball, and made sure that she had at least one that was full on hand, before the winter cold and flu season.  This year the family started the winter with one inhaler, partially gone; and two inhalers, nearly full.

But according to the actions of Murphy's Law,  when one of the children needed an inhaler, the only one able to be found was the nearly empty one.  After three days' use, that one was empty.  And so began the Great Inhaler Chase.

One day, after school
Elsie: Mom, we really need to find those other inhalers.  This one is empty.
theMom: Matt, where is yours?
Matt:  I don't know.  I thought Elsie had it.
theMom: It's probably under my heaps of junk.  Try to make it through the night and I'll call the clinic in the morning.  It shouldn't be a problem.

The next morning, after the pharmacy and clinic were opened for business
theMom:  Hello, Mr. Pharmacist.  Could you please check these names for me, to see whether I have any refills left on these prescriptions?
Mr. Pharmacist: What names please?
theMom: Mary, Matthew, Elsie.
Mr. Pharmacist:  No, Ma'am, I'm sorry you do not.

theMom:  Hello, Ms Clinic Receptionist.  Could you please have the good Doctor write up a prescription for new inhalers for myself and Matt and Elsie?
Ms Clinic Receptionist:  No, Ma'am.  I'm sorry, the good Doctor is not in today.  But you could call the pharmacy and have them fax us the previous prescriptions and we can fax them back a new prescription.  This takes 24 hours.
theMom:  I have a daughter who can't breath.  She is not a Japanese pearl diver, so she is not trained to hold her breath for 24 hours.
Ms Clinic Receptionist:  I can have our 2-hour nurse call you back.  Perhaps she could help you.  But in the future, please have your daughter plan her asthma attacks 24 hours in advance.
theMom:  Right.

Later that same day
Elsie:  Mom, I feel like I can go to school now.  My breathing is a little better.  I don't want to miss the whole day.
theMom:  Let's wait to see if the 2-hour nurse calls us back.

Still later that same day, the phone rings
theMom:  Oh, I bet this is the clinic now.   Hello.
Voice on the phone:  Hello, this is the Nice Office Lady at the School.  Your little Sophie is running a fever.  Can you please come get her.
theMom:  I will be there in half an hour.  Thank you.  Bye.
Nice Office Lady at the School:  See you in half and hour then.  Bye.

theMom:  Elsie, get ready to go.  Dad, I'm going to take Elsie to school in Oklee, then run over to Plummer to get Sophie, and then run down Fosston to get an inhaler for Elsie.
Dad:  Did they call back?
theMom:  No, but Elsie needs an inhaler for the night.  You know that's when it gets bad.  I will just fight with them until I can get her one.

theMom now drives 15 miles to Oklee, 11 miles to Plummer and then 30 miles into Fosston.  She arrives at the clinic.

Ms Clinic Receptionist:  Did you have an appointment, Ma'am?
theMom: No, I spoke to someone this morning about getting some inhaler prescriptions renewed.  She said she was going to pass my information on to the 2-hour nurse.
Ms Clinic Receptionist:  What in the world is a 2-hour nurse.  We don't have one of those.
theMom:  I'm only repeating what she said.
Ms Clinic Receptionist:  I'll see if I can find someone to help you.

Later that same hour
Nurse Twohour:  I printed up your records.  I checked all your records. We don't show that we've ever prescribed inhalers for you.  You'll have to go to the pharmacy and have them fax us the records.
Ms Clinic Receptionist: And next time remember to have your daughter plan her asthma attack to meet our 24 hour requirement.
theMom:  Sure, I'll get right on that.
Nurse Twohour:  I'll stand by the fax machine while all my other patients die, so that I can accommodate your unscheduled asthma attack.

The Mom is thankful that there is a pharmacy in Fosston.

A few minutes later
theMom: Hello.  I spoke to someone this morning about some expired prescriptions.  I just came from the clinic.  They said I needed to have you fax them the records.
Mr. Pharmacist:  Oh, yes, here they are.  I'll send them right over.
theMom:  Thank you.  I'm going to run a few errands and be back in 20 minutes.
Mr. Pharmacist:  If I have the reply by then, I'll have the prescription ready.
theMom:  Nurse Twohour said she'd let all her other patients die in order to await your fax.
Mr. Pharmacist:  I'm just sayin'.
Mom:  Right.

The mom runs a few errands and even resists the temptation to buy some very pretty fabric at the variety store.  It was really pretty, did I mention that?  She heads back to the pharmacy.

theMom:  Have you heard from Nurse Twohour?
Mr. Pharmacist:  Yes, I can't refill any of them.  You all will need to be seen by a physician.
theMom (barely not crying):  Couldn't they have told me that when I was there?  My daughter is in Oklee.  I'll never get back here before the clinic closes.
Mr. Pharmacist:  I'm sorry I can't help you Ma'am.
theMom:  I understand.  It is not your fault.

A few minutes later, back at the clinic.
theMom (through gritted teeth):  Hello, they told me at the pharmacy I need to make an appointment.  How late are you open today?
Ms Clinic Receptionist:  Oh, we don't make appointments here.  Please follow me through this door and I'll take you to Ms Appointment Lady.

Epilogue
After all is resolved, Elsie has a 6:30 appointment at the evening clinic.  Of course, by that time the handy-dandy pharmacy in Fosston will be closed. 

TheMom drives 20 miles back to Oklee, to pick Elsie up from school.  Elsie is not happy.  TheMom is not happy.  So at least they are both not happy together for the 15 miles back home.

After a quick supper, Elsie and theMom drive back down to Fosston (35 miles) to be seen by a Physician Assistant; and who is very nice, and sympathetic to our plight.  After that appointment Elsie and theMom drive the 35 miles back home so that theDad can jump in the car to drive the 30 miles to the Wal-Mart in Thief River Falls, because their pharmacy is still open.   He will then drive 30 miles back home so that Elsie who is not trained as a Japanese pearl driver can take her second breath of the day.  Her first was after the PA gave her a nebulizer treatment in Fosston because her bronchioles, or whatever they are called, were so tight the PA couldn't even tell what she was hearing.

All told 221 miles for an inhaler. 

Not to mention the appointment at the evening clinic, which is no doubt more costly than at the regular clinic; and the nebulizer treatment with the little vial of albuteral/saline solution that probably will cost, oh, I'm guessing, $50 extra dollars.  Or more. 

I'm not really frustrated anymore. 

Not really.

Nope.

A Taste of Summer

For a little glimmer of summer in the midst of deepest winter, try one of the following counter-top fermented salsa recipes. Once you have the process down, you can tweak it to do your own thing; but because they are fermented at room temp, you may want to stick to one of the originals for your first try.

What does counter-top fermentation mean and why do it? Good questions. When we ferment foods prior to eating them, they pre-digest a bit, and they also grow a colony of pro-biotic cultures that help us digest more efficiently everything else we eat. This leads to better over-all health because we are getting more nutrients into our blood stream.

Those who advocate using fermented foods recommend starting the day with a tablespoon or so of fermented food and then including little something at each meal. The more traditional American choices would include dairy type items such as yogurt, raw cheese, kefir, buttermilk. But don't limit yourself to dairy. Sauer kraut, kimchee, or any kind of pickled vegies, if eaten raw (not canned), will do the same.

For more information on counter-top fermentation, see Sally Fallon's Nourishing Traditions or the featured titles.

And now on to salsa. Making salsa with this method results in one of the freshest, summeriest foods I've ever eaten. Hope you enjoy it.  The first two are just cut and pasted from other sources.  The last one is what I do.  Roughly.

Cat's Salsa
Based on Emillio's TexMex Cafe` recipe in Blissfield, Mi.
2/3 cup of onion
4 cloves of garlic
2 tsp celtic sea salt
2 serrano peppers (more if you like hot hot hot less if you like mild)
1-28 ounce can of diced tomatoes, drained
2 tablespoons of whey
1 handful of fresh cilantro leaves or 2 tablespoons dried

Place all ingredients in a blender or processor, blend until a fine puree is obtained. Ferment 2 days. (If you can. Mine rarely makes it that long before someone is eating it)

Cilantro Salsa From Eat Fat Lose Fat:
Makes 1 quart, about 20 calories per 1/4 cup

28-oz can organic whole peeled tomatoes, liquid drained off
1/4 large onion, coarsely chopped
2 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
1 serrano chile, seeded and coarsely chopped
1 tsp sea salt
1/4 tsp dried oregano
Juice of 1 lemon or 2 limes
1/4 cup homemade whey
1 large bunch fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped

Place all ingredients except cilantro in a food processor and process until smooth. Stir in cilantro. Place in quart-sized wide mouthed mason jar. The top of the vegetables should be at least 1 inch below the top of the jar. Cover tightly and keep at room temperature for about three days before transferring to the refrigerator.

Bulk salsa

6lb 6oz can whole peeled tomatoes, liquid drained off
1 large onion, coarsely chopped
8 cloves garlic, coarsely chopped
4 dried chiles
4 tsp sea salt
1 tsp dried oregano
Juice from 8 limes (or do a couple of lemons instead; or use a combination)
1 cup homemade whey
4 large bunches fresh cilantro, coarsely chopped

Combine everything in a large bowl and mush a bit with an immersion blender.  A food processor or traditional blender would also work.  Process to your preferred chunkiness.

Cover loosely.  I usually set my bowl on a round pizza pan if it's really full.  The contents may grow a bit as it ferments.  It's advisable to catch the mess if it should occur.

Stir frequently (perhaps every 3-5 hours).  This keeps the pro-biotic cultures and the lactic acids mixed evenly as the fermenting takes place.  We had one batch spoil on the top layer because we forgot to stir it.  

You can taste as you stir.  It will keep getting better and better.  The time it takes to fully ripen depends upon the temp of the counter area at which you have it sitting.  Ours usually take 2-3 days.

When it's ready, refrigerate.  

To answer, "When is it ready?" is a bit hard.  It will get more tangy as it's fermenting. And the flavors blend and ripen (they actually seem to grow in richness).  And it may be a very slight bit bubbly.  But if it starts to taste like beer or wine or yeast, it's probably beyond its prime.  It is still usable, still pro-biotic.  But it's not as palatable at that point, and the flavor will continue to deteriorate once it reaches this point. 

Unfortunate Anniversary and an Egregious Situation

Today marks the anniversary of the Roe v Wade decision that opened the floodgates to legal abortion in our nation.   In the 38 intervening years, the chance at life for some 53,000,000 babies was snuffed out. 

And interestingly enough, just two days ago, Kermit Gosnell was arraigned on eight murder charges stemming from the way he ran his abortion clinic.  The following video contains graphic descriptions.

Elizabeth Scalia, the author of The Anchoress blog did a really nice job of assembling information and links on this horrific case.  Just reading the things she highlights makes me shudder. I don't think I can do as she suggests and read the entire report.

But I do agree with her that it is important that we not soften the facts of the Gosnell case. I think it's important that we realize this kind of neglect and abuse is most likely more common than we, as a society, want to admit.  “Over a period of two decades, government health and licensing officials were repeatedly presented with evidence about Gosnell, and repeatedly chose to do nothing…” from the Foxnews video, Gosnell Patients Talk to FOX 29.  If this is at all indicative of how the abortion industry is regulated, we'd be naive to think this an isolated case.

The slaughter house scenario of this case, although perhaps the most graphically chilling of which I've heard, is not the first time that facts have shown that abortion in America is neither safe for the mother, nor always painless for the "clumps of cells" feminists do not want us to call babies.

Among Scalia's many links is an article by a pro-life woman who flittingly considered abortion. Touching. This reminds me to remember in prayer those women facing such an unplanned pregnancy. It reminds me to do what I can, when I can, to help those in need of support, both emotional and physical.

Please remember in prayer those women faced with such a situation. Please pray for our communities, states and nation and our leaders to give them strength and wisdom in addressing the problem of abortion and unplanned pregnancy. Please pray for those in the thick of the fight. And even pray for the doctors and nurses and support staff involved in this evil, that they come to see their actions as the sin it is, and to find forgiveness in Christ our Lord.

How is it that my kids like country music and how am I going to explain it to my friends and family?

This is really of no import to anyone but myself, but my kids know all the words to all kinds of country music songs because of their hour and a half bus drive in the mornings.

It started with my sister Rachel and Nick's wedding a few years ago.  Somehow, it seems, Rachel has fallen into the country music Karaoke crowd.  I do love you Rachel and well, I guess we all need something...



When my kids came home from that trip out west singing "Big Green Tractor," I wasn't too annoyed. I like tractors after all. I'd prefer a song about a little Farmall SuperM, but we can't have everything.  And if I ignore the innuendo, it's pretty clean cut for a country music song.

At least it wasn't about sitting at a bar drowning my latest broken heart; or getting kicked out of the bed of yet another gal;, or about how it doesn't matter how much you kick me around, dear, I'll always come crawling back to you.

So it could be worse.

But lately, when I turn on the radio in the van, I always get at least one voice clamoring for Cat-Country.  I hear occasional lyrics from the various pop country songs being sung around the house.

Recently a friend posted The Band Perry's "If I Die Young" on facebook and I watched it a couple of times.  I liked the Ann of Green Gables imagery.  But I knew nothing about the band or their style of music and whether or not they were popular.

So today, I was doing some writing and that song comes on the radio.  I said, "Oh, Joe, this is that song Jenna posted on facebook."  My little Sophie says, "Really?"  and she immediately starts singing along with the radio.  I asked how she knew that song.  Clara said that they hear it every day on the bus.  John piped up that he knows it too.



And is there anything wrong with this song or the fact that they know it?  Not at all.  It's a pretty sounding song and doesn't say anything amiss.

But if they know that one, what else do they know.  Is one of them going to come home singing one of those other choice country music songs that I occasionally stumble upon while trying to find a station?  And are they going to grow up thinking that all that junky lifestyle stuff is normal?

Then I think of the songs that are on the pop stations.  Not really any better.  Sometimes much worse.  I was scrolling through stations last night trying to find something to listen to as I was driving.  I found this really cool sounding dance type song.  I really, really liked it musically.  But then the words come on.  OK, yeah, that's not great, maybe it doesn't get any worse... ooh, it's got lots of innuendo there...Oh...my...goodness...did I really just hear that word on my radio?  Yikes.

But not to fear, Mary.  Your kids have had the ONE THING NEEDFUL as a regular part of their lives.  A little music is not going to take that away.

For the word of God is living and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing even to the division of soul and spirit, and of joints and marrow, and is a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.  Hebrews 4:12 

Since it can do all that, it can protect from any ill effects of all kinds of music.   Trust God's promises, Mary.

The Cold is Relative, After All

The sleds were singing their eternal lament to the creaking of the harnesses and the tinkling bells of the leaders; but the men and dogs were tired and made no sound.  The trail was heavy with new-fallen snow, and they had come far, and the runners, burdened with flint-like quarters of frozen moose, clung tenaciously to the unpacked surface and held back with a stubbornness almost human. Darkness was coming on, but there was no camp to pitch that night.  The snow fell gently through the pulseless air, not in flakes, but in tiny frost crystals of delicate design.  It was very warm,--barely ten below zero,--and the men did not mind.  Meyers and Bettles had raised their earflaps, while Malmute Kid had even taken off his mittens. From "An Odyssey of the North" one of the Klondike Tales by Jack London.

When I came out of Connie's house today, all hot and sweaty from my workout, I felt warm and invigorated.  I had my coat unzipped, no gloves or hat, it was nice.  All of about 5 below.  I wasn't mushing sled dogs, so I only had to get from her door to my car.  Still, it reminded me of this passage by Jack London.

I love Jack London.  I don't know why.  I think it's the desolation of his settings.  There is an appeal in the "man against the elements" themes found in his stories.

Perhaps I've shared the following story with my readers before; please forgive the repetition if one exists.

We had been living in Madison, WI, when my husband accepted the call to serve, as pastor, four northern Minnesota congregations.  Since it was the months immediately following 9/11, and although Madison is not a terribly large urban area, we were still glad to be going to a more remote part of the country.  Times were somewhat uncertain.

We had arranged to arrive at our new home the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.  We planned to leave on Monday and hoped to put at least half the trip behind us before stopping for the night.   After cramming as much of our belongings as would possibly fit into the moving van, we sent it on its way and stayed to finish up the last cleaning tasks.  By the time we had everything done and all kids and stuff loaded into the mini-van, it was late afternoon or early evening.   Our frustration was increased by the approach of a winter storm which was forecasted to hit diagonally across the route we needed to travel.

We made it as far as Eau Claire that night.  The visibility was getting very limited by that time.

The next day we set off early.  Before full light, if I remember correctly.  So that put us into the Twin cities area, yes, at exactly rush hour during a winter storm.  Not a smart move, in retrospect.  But we forged ahead.  Bu the time we had made our slow way to US Hwy 10, heading north toward Motley, we were about the only vehicle on the road.  The snow was about 7 inches deep on the roadway and was still falling.  I was driving that stretch.

I remember thinking that I was entering a different world.  I was 7 1/2 months pregnant at the time (with our dear Sophie, whose birthday incidentally, is today).  We were heading to a new lifestyle as a pastor's family, and to a new home, sight unseen.  The only directions we had is that the church and parsonage were 8 miles north of Oklee and 4 miles east. We knew no one, although we had spoken to a few of the people by phone, and gotten a nice letter from one member.

We were travelling through a blizzard to get to an area of the country with which we were totally unfamiliar.

It felt like a dream driving that stretch of roadway.  I recall being thankful for the thick forest on both sides of the road.  It helped guide my guess as to where to drive.  The stretch I drove was perhaps fifty miles of deep snow, heavily falling snow, and very little traffic.  In that time, I think I only met one or two other vehicles.  When I did, we crept toward each other, neither wanting to crowd the center, but also neither wanting to be the one to suddenly find ourselves off the edge of the roadway.

After we got past Motley the roads cleared up.  By the time we neared our new home, the ground was snow-covered, but not deep.  The moon was nearly full, and we were able to see the expanses of very flat land.  We could see the various woods and groves at the farm sites.  We watched the moon shadow of our car follow us along the last several miles of our own Odyssey.

I was never so glad to get out of the car. I was instantly enveloped in a big hug from Shirley.  Although I had never met her, it was exactly what I needed.

During that first winter, many were the days I would look out and gaze across the very wide view of frozen land.  It seemed never ending.  When I would go to town, I was always nervous about missing my turns.  They all looked alike.  Flat, flat, snowy whiteness with perhaps a woods or farm site.  But even the woods with the barren black tree branches, and farm sites with pale lonely looking buildings, all looked alike to my unaccustomed eyes.

One of my first trips to town, of course, included a stop to scope out the local library.  I didn't really know what I was in the mood to read.  My brain was still full of the move and of our new life and of the coming baby.  So I gravitated to the familiar.  I came home with the Scarlett Pimpernel and a collection of Jack London stories.  I don't think it was the above quoted collection, but one in a similar vein.

Again, perhaps a poor choice in hind sight.  I hoped it would help me feel less isolated to read about real, absolute isolation.  I'm not sure it really helped.  I certainly felt an affinity to the characters as I looked out my windows.  Mixed in with the expanses of white, I could see many farm sites across the miles.  Some of the neighbors I had met.  Many I had not.  Some I still have not met, even after nine years.  It seems strange.

But that first winter, it just felt big, and open, and cold, and oh-so-white.

And somewhat lonesome.

Violent Rhetoric

Madison, WI's, Ann Althouse, had a humorous post on her blog after the Packer win on Saturday.  Her commenters kept up the wit.  Hat tip to Char.

My favorite was this, apparently a quote from George Carlin

In football the object is for the quarterback, also known as the field general, to be on target with his aerial assault, riddling the defense by hitting his receivers with deadly accuracy in spite of the blitz, even if he has to use shotgun. With short bullet passes and long bombs, he marches his troops into enemy territory, balancing this aerial assault with a sustained ground attack that punches holes in the forward wall of the enemy's defensive line.