The other day when I was telling you about Frankenmuth, Michigan, it got me thinking about the time I stayed in Muskegon, Michigan. This was a few years before I started doing phone for a living. (www.muskegon.org, www.visitmuskegon.org www.muskegon mi.gov) This is a true story.

A group of prisoners at one of the state prisons in Muskegon had invited me to meet with them. Because the meeting wouldn't get over until 9pm, and because Farmington Hills is a good three hour drive from Muskegon, and because I would be travelling alone late at night on the interstate, the prisoners all chipped in and sent me enough money so I could get a motel room. They were concerned that something would happen to me on the long ride home.

Not realizing that motel rooms would be at a premium because of the Tulip Time Festival that was taking place in Holland, Michigan (www.holland.org), I didn't make advance reservations.

I got to Muskegon and found that there were no vacant motel rooms within a 75 mile radius. Okay, what to do? As I was driving around on the outskirts of town by the interstate, I spotted a small mom 'n pop type motel with a vacancy! Okay! i secured a room.

It wasn't until I returned to the motel that night after the meeting at the prison, so tired I couldn't hardly keep my eyes open, that I realized something was amiss at the motel.

Noise! the rooms on either side of mine, the people in them were so noisy, grunting and groaning and moaning, that I turned on my tv to try and drown them out. The tv! Nothing on the tv but pornos! No regular channels, just pornos. Even with a pillow over my head I couldn't escape the noise.

I didn't get more than a couple of hours sleep that night. Truly, the noise was unbelievable. When I checked out early the next morning, as I was leaving my room, I turned on my tv and cranked it as high as it would go, figuring I was up all night so the folks on either side of me could all be up at 6am with me.

I stopped at the office to settle the bill and asked the person at the desk what was up with this place? Come to find out I'd spent the night at an adults-only motel! That explained everything!

Tawny
www.tawnyford.com

If you call me tomorrow and get the message that I'm out running errands, well, I'll be at the post office--it is Friday after all!--AND--I'll be looking for season 4 of Northern Exposure! That's right, season 4 has FINALLY been released! I love that show. It's a darn good dose of nice and I don't think we can ever get too much nice.

Another thing I'll be looking for is Kris Kristofferson's newest cd, This Old Road. I am a serious fan of Kristofferson's.

Thirdly, I'll be buying some more frozen strawberries. Why? Strawberry smoothies! I love strawberry smoothies!

I have a VitaMix (www.vitamix.com), sort of a super high speed blender/grinder/mixer/you-name-it-it-can-do-it sort of small appliance, and it is perfect for smoothie making.

I use a small container of yogurt. Usually strawberry or vanilla, those are my favorites. In to the VitaMix it goes. A handful of frozen strawberries. A handful of ice cubes. A banana if I have any. A little bit of orange juice. Twirl it all up in the VitaMix until it's almost as thick as ice cream. I have a sturdy straw, a big insulated cup, and I'm good to go. I drink them for breakfast sometimes or even as a snack. It's good for you, healthful, and it tastes wonderful.

And if I have time, I'm going to the library too. I know, what a day (smile)!

hugs, Tawny

Here in Michigan we have a gazillion small towns that all have various claims-to-fame. For example, Howell is known for melons (and whitemsupremacists, ick), Holland for tulips, Ionia for prisons, etc.

Frankenmuth, Michigan (www.frankenmuth.org), situated north of Detroit, is famous for family style chicken dinners, The most popular restaurant for this type of meal is Zehnders (www.zehnders.com). People drive from all over the state to eat there. Another big attraction is Bronners, the biggest Christmas store in the world (!) (www.bronners.com) where you can find anything and everything Christmas from all over the world. It's quite a sight.The architecture of the town is such that you think you're in the middle of Bavaria.

Marshall, Michigan, on the lower western side of the state, is known, among other things, for turkey dinners at Cromwells (www.turkeyville.com).

I haven't been to Cromwells yet, but I've been to Frankenmuth a bunch of times and it's a pretty good time. I like wandering around the town window shopping, and I really like the chicken dinners. If you click on the Zehnders site and check out the menu you'll see why I like it so much.

Not only is the food good---what's not to like about chicken with all the sides!- they keep replenishing the platters until you're full. By the time you've finished you want to go find your hotel room and take a nap! There are a number of nice hotels/motels in town to stay at, some even have water parks. I've only stayed over once, at the Frankenmuth Motel, and it was no frills, bare bones, but reasonably priced.

So why am I rattling on about small towns? Because I'll betcha you have some cool ones near where you live too. Life is too short not to take some time to smell the roses. Take a day or two and wander around your state. It'll be fun.

Tawny

Read this on the internet in a newsgroup and decided to share it with you.


The Awakening

A time comes in your life when you finally get it. When in the midst
of all your fears and insanity you stop dead in your tracks and
somewhere the voice inside your head cries out - ENOUGH! Enough
fighting and crying or struggling to hold on. And, like a child
quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you
shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and through a mantle
of wet lashes you begin to look at the world through new eyes. This is
your awakening.

You realize that it's time to stop hoping and waiting for something to
change, to for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over
the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that he is not
Prince Charming and you are not Cinderella and that in the real world
there aren't always fairy tale endings (or beginnings for that
matter). And that any guarantee of "happily ever after" must begin
with YOU, and in the process a sense of serenity is born of
acceptance.

You awaken to the fact that you are not perfect, and that not everyone
will always love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are and
it's OK. (They are entitled to their own views and opinions.) And you
learn the importance of loving and championing yourself, and in the
process a sense of newly found confidence is born of self approval.

You stop bitching and blaming other people for the things they did to
you (or didn't do for you) and you learn that the only thing you can
really count on is the unexpected. You learn that not everyone will
always be there for you, and that it's not always about you. So, you
learn to stand on your own and take care of yourself and in the
process a sense of safety and security is born of seft-reliance.

You stop judging and pointing fingers and you begin to accept people
as they are and to over look their short comings and human frailties
and in the process a sense of peace and contentment are born of
forgiveness.
You realize that much of the way you view yourself, and the world
around you, is a result of all the messages and opinions that have
been ingrained into your psyche. And you begin to sift through all the
crap you've been fed about how you should behave, how you should look,
how much you shouldn't weigh, what you should wear, where you should
shop, what you should drive, how and where you should live, what you
should do for a living, who you should sleep with, who you should
marry, what you should expect of a marriage, the importance of having
an raising children, or what you owe your parents.

You learn to open up to new worlds and different points of view. And
you begin reassessing and redefining who you are and what you really
stand for. You learn the difference between wanting and needing, and
you begin to discard the doctrines and values you've outgrown, or
should never have bought into to begin with, and in the process you
learn to go with your instincts. You learn to distinguish between
guilt and responsibility, and the importance of setting boundaries and
learning to say NO. You learn that the only cross to bear is the one
you choose to carry, and that martyrs get burned at the stake.

Then you learn about love, romantic love and familial love. How to
love, how much to give in love, when to stop giving, and when to walk
away. You learn not to project your needs or your feelings onto a
relationship. You learn that you will not be more beautiful, more
intelligent, more lovable, or important because of the man or woman on
your arm or the child that bears your name.

You learn to look at relationships as they really are and not as you
would have them to be. You stop trying to control people, situations,
and outcomes. You learn that just as people grow and change, so it is
with love and you that you don't have the right to demand love on your
terms, just to make yourself happy. And, you learn that alone does not
mean lonely.

And you look in the mirror and come to terms with the fact that you
will never be a size 5 or a perfect 10 and you stop trying to compete
with the image inside your head and agonizing over how you "stack up".
You also stop working so hard at putting feelings aside, smoothing
things over, and ignoring your own needs.

You learn that feelings of entitlement are perfectly OK... that it is
your right to want things that you want and that sometimes it is
necessary to make demands. You come to the realization that you
deserve to be treated with love, kindness, sensitivity, and respect
and you will not settle for anything less. And you allow only the
hands of a lover who cherishes you to glorify you with his or her
touch and in the process you internalize the meaning of self-respect.

And you learn that your body really is your temple. You begin eating a
balanced diet, drinking more water, and taking more time to exercise.
You learn that fatigue diminishes the spirit and can create doubt and
fear, so you take more time to rest. And, just as food fuels the body,
laughter fuels our soul, so you take more time to laugh and to play.

You learn that for the most part in life you get what you believe you
deserve and that much of life is a self-fulfilling prophecy. You learn
that anything worth achieving is worth working for, and that wishing
for something to happen is different from working toward making it
happen. More importantly, you learn that in order to achieve success,
you need direction, discipline, and perseverance.

You also learn that no one can do it all alone and it's OK to risk
asking for help. You learn that the only thing you must truly fear is
the great robber baron of all time: FEAR IT'SELF. You learn to step
right into and through your fears, because you know that whatever
happens you can handle it, and to give into fear is to give away the
right to live life on your terms.

You learn to fight for your life and not to squander it living under a
cloud of impending doom. You learn that life isn't always fair, you
don't always get what you think you deserve, and that sometimes bad
things happen to unsuspecting, good people. On these occasions you
learn not to personalize things. You learn that God isn't punishing
you or failing to answer your prayers. It's just life happening. And
you learn to deal with evil in its most primal state - the ego.

You learn that negative feelings such as anger, envy, and resentment
must be understood and redirected, or they will suffocate the life out
of you and poison the universe that surrounds you. You learn to admit
when you are wrong and to build bridges instead of walls. You learn to
be thankful and to take comfort in many of the simple things you take
for granted, things that millions of people upon the earth can only
dream about: A full refrigerator, clean running water, a soft warm
bed, a long hot shower, Slowly, you begin to take responsibility for
yourself by yourself, and you try to make yourself a promise to never
betray yourself and to never ever settle for less than your heart's
desire. And you hand a wind chime outside your window so you can
listen to the wind. And you make a point to keep smiling, keep
trusting, and to stay open to every wonderful possibility.

Finally, with courage in your heart and with God by your side, you
take a stand, you take a deep breath, and you begin, as best as you
can, to design the life you want to live.


hugs, Tawny
tawnyford@webtv.net

In yesterday's entry I stated that I was against the death penalty. And I am. Except in the case of sex offenders. And particularly when it is a child that has been molested or raped.

How can I be against it for most crimes, but not for sex related crimes? Because. Because, again based on my experience with prisoners around the country, as well as volumes of materials that I've read concerning sex offenders, they cannot be 'cured'. They cannot be rehabilitated. They will always be a predator and will always be dangerous to the vulnerable.

I've seen a few shows on MSNBC, as well as the local news stations, where they set up sting operations on the internet in order to catch predators who prey on children. More often than not, the men they catch have had other brushes with the law for sex with minors. It would not appear that arrest, detention, prison time in any way reduced their 'ardor' for fucking the under aged.

Studies have shown the same thing to be true. Pedophiles, those who have a 'taste' for young innocent flesh, continue this behavior until they are either dead or to infirm to act on their lust.

Some people think it's wrong for sex offenders, after they have served their sentence, to have to register their whereabouts with local police. Wrong too for citizens in the community to be aware of who they are, where they live.

I don't understand how it can be wong to want to try and protect innocent children from a viscious predator who is hell-bent on violating their being the first chance they can.

Sexual offenders are almost always granted parole the first time they become eligible for parole. Why? Because they are model prisoners. As a rule they do not join gangs while in prison, nor engage in criminal activities (selling or using drugs, violent behvior, homosexual activity, etc.) while behind bars. What they want most is to just do their time and be released---so they can get back out on the streets and satisfy their lustful ways.

Many think that pedophiles have a difficult time while incarcerated. You've heard the stories, I'm sure. Fact is, there are so many pedophiles/sexoffenders locked up that no one much pays them any mind. Unless perhaps one of their victims has a relative locked up too who decides to extract some revenge on them.

People say 'well, let's castrate them, either medically or physically. That'll put an end to their behavior.' Yeah, right. Like a penis is the only thing you can rape someone with. Get real.

Since society doesn't seem to want to push for life sentences with no possibility of parole for pedophiles/sex offenders, then I say they should be executed by the state.

Hell, people get 20-40 years for robbing a bank. Pedophiles, if they don't end up getting probation, get sentences like 2-5 years, then they're back on the streets almost before they left.

America's priorities are like that. We revere the almighty dollar, but the hell with our children.

I've spent a lot of time in prisons around the USA and dialogued with thousands of prisoners. I believe that people can change their ways. I believe in rehabilitation. I believe in second chances. But not for pedophiles. They don't rehab. They just go on and on and on.

I say that's who the death penalty was designed for.

Tawny
www.tawnyford.com

On my last trip to Blockbusters I rented 'Exonerated'. Susan Sarandon, Danny Glover, just to name a few of the stars in it. It's adapted from a play. All of the lines/dialogue are taken directly from court transcripts and letters. Nothing made up, no fantasy, all facts.

As the title of the movie would indicate, all of the characters--who are based on REAL people--were convicted of crimes, sentenced to death row to ultimately be murdered by the state, and then found to be innocent and exonerated, set free. The movie tells their stories.

I am against the death penalty. Always have been. From personal experience dealing with convicts around the country, and from newspaper/magazine articles, tv newscasts, etc. I know that innocent people are sometimes sentenced to death, and most of them never get exonerated. They are only set free, so to speak, in their death when they go to God.

I think this is a worthwhile movie to see.

Tawny

Someone sent me this in an email and thought I'd share it with you.


A little boy goes to his dad and asks, "What are Politics?"

Dad says, "Well son, let me try to explain it this way:

#1. I'm the head of the family, so call me The President.

#2. Your mother is the administrator of the money, so we call her the Government.

#3. We're here to take care of your needs, so we'll call you the People.

#4. The nanny, we'll consider her the Working Class.

#5. And your baby brother, we'll call him the Future.

"Now, think about that and see if it makes sense." So, the little boy goes off to bed thinking about what Dad has said.

Later that night, he hears his baby brother crying, so he gets up to check on him. He finds that the baby has severely soiled his diaper.So, the little boy goes to his parent's room and finds his mother sound asleep. Not wanting to wake her, he goes to the nanny's room. Finding the door locked, he looks in the peephole and finds his father in bed with the Nanny. He gives up and goes back to bed.

The next morning, the little boy says to his father, "Dad, I think I understand the concept of politics now." The father says, "Good, son, tell me in your own words what you think politics is all about" The little boy replies, "The President is screwing the Working Class, while the Government is sound asleep. The People are being ignored and the Future is in deep shit."

hugs, Tawny

Every Saturday morning, except when Detroit Public TV and Ann Arbor Public TV are doing their pledge drive/fundraising and they substitute 'big name' shows in the various time slots, I watch two of my favorite shows--'Michigan Magazine' and 'Fork In The Road'.

Michigan Magazine is kind of hokey, I guess, but that's one of the reasons I like it so much. The hosts travel around the state of Michigan highlighting and interviewing citizens of our state who are busy making, crafting, farming, etc. They have a website www.michiganmagazine.com (don't we all! smile) where you can check them out, even order their quarterly magazine. This week they introduced a couple in northern michigan who craft wonderul furniture out of Michigan hardwoods. www.woodshopclassics.com Their workmanship looked to be wonderful and their prices weren't outrageous, surprise! surprise!

Fork In The Road is a show hosted by a restaurant owner in Okemos, Mchigan. He has a website too: www.restaurantvillegas.com He highlighted Michigan peach farmers and you should have seen the peaches! They were the size of softballs! And juicy! Then, back at his restaurant, he made Smoked Michigan Whitefish Cakes.

Saturday mornings at my house from 11am until 2pm is Public TV/Radio time. Those two shows are follwed by Folks Like Us, a radio show on WDET 101.9. I told you about that show a few weeks ago, remember? Right now they're playing Pete Seger, My Rainbow Race.

But first I watch Paula Deen on the Foodnetwork, 10:30 am. this morning Paula made what she called British pub food. Shepherd Pie and a dessert called, I think, but don't quote me on it, Banaffy Pie. It was a graham cracker crust filled with caramel taffy and sliced bananas, topped with whipped cream. I know, a fat trap as my one friend would say (smile). Paula made the caramel taffy stuff by pouring two cans of sweetened condensed milk into a 13x9 glass pan, coverring it securely with tin foil, then placing it carefully in to a larger pan that she filled with some water, making sure not to get water into the milk pan. Water bath is the cooking term for it. Into the oven it went, 300 degrees, for an hour and a half. When she took it out, oh my!The whole recipe should be on the foodnetwork site.

Makes for a good day!

hugs, Tawny
www.tawnyford.com

I get an awful lot of unasked for catalogs in the mail and not just before the winter celebratory days. You too? Mostly I just pitch them in the garbage. But one came today that caught my eye and I'm still thumbing through it.

Through The Country Door www.CountryDoor.com

The pages are filled with all sorts of wonderful country-looking accessories for the home. I love this kind of stuff!

One thing in particular has really got me drooling. A victorian garden chair. ND52419 $99.95 I would like two of them to set out on my porch. Talk about attractive, wow. They're blue metal chairs, delicate appearing yet strong enough to be serviceable.

My birthday is coming in April. April 26th. I'm going to have to start laying down hints (smile).

Tawny
tawnford@webtv.net

For the past week or so the local tv newscasts have been doing stories on the numerous animals that have been found murdered in the rural areas of greater Detroit. At first it was pets they were discoverring. Dogs. Decapitated. Some with their legs bound by duct tape, some skinned, all gruesomely murdered. The last day or so they've been discoverring wild animals that have been skinned and/or decapitated. Deer, foxes.

The news anchors are telling us that it's people pranking. Or hunters and trappers. Four year felony if they're caught.

Yeah, right. Pranksters. Trappers. I don't think so.

Me, I'm thinking it's either a wannabe serial killer who is starting out, just learning his 'craft', or, more likely, and this is what no one ever wants to talk about, satanic cult sacrifices.

Either one, both are bad.


Tawny

Found this article in today's issue of the Metro Times www.metrotimes.com. I think it's worth reading.


Should we bring back the draft?

What, am I nuts? That is a reasonable question, but for now, let's stick to today's topic. Anyone who pays attention and has the reasoning power of a chimpanzee knows that the war in Iraq is a horrible failure.

In fact, it may be the greatest foreign policy failure in American history. As Molly Ivins observed last week, "After three years, tens of thousands of lives and $200 billion, we have achieved chaos."

We have severely damaged our economy, served as a far better recruiting machine for al-Qaida than Osama could have imagined, and ruined our international standing. Yet the war goes on, and will go on.

Nobody cares enough to stop it. And why is that? Simple. We don't have to go, and the children of those who really own and run this country almost never take a turn in uniform. The middle and upper classes are insulated from this war, which is being fought mostly by poor jobless white kids from places like Flint, as Fahrenheit 911 made devastatingly clear.

Inner-city blacks, Hispanics, and other new immigrants are also doing their bit for democracy by being blown up by roadside bombs.

But few or none of them have fathers who are congressmen or college deans, and so we ignore them.

Richard Nixon, who was far brighter than Dubya, thought during the Vietnam War that if we went to an all-volunteer military, the vast majority of the protests would dry up. The all-volunteer army became a reality just after the peace settlement of 1973, and there hasn't been a mass anti-war movement since.

Those of us who marched against the Vietnam war did so in large part for self-serving reasons: because we didn't want to go, or we didn't want our brothers or boyfriends to go. When that threat ended, most of us brought out the brewskis and the Risk game board and began partying hearty.

Now we are moving to a world where we have a professional army that increasingly doesn't look like America. In turn, America doesn't pay very much attention to it. This strikes me as having the potential to be a very dangerous thing, for reasons that have little to do with Iraq.

History offers a good example of a society that slowly shifted from an army of average citizens to a mercenary army made up of soldiers who had little in common with the people they were supposed to be defending.

We call it ancient Rome. Though historical comparisons are never exact, this one is worth thinking about.

You can make a good case that if this war — or any war — is worth getting our soldiers killed for, then everybody should sacrifice and everyone of a certain age should have to take a chance on having to go.

But is it moral and right for our government — any government — to say to its citizens that they must go kill people and be killed?

I have great personal difficulty myself in calling for a return to the draft. I was all for an all-volunteer army when Vietnam was raging and I was of an age where I might have been drafted. No part of me wanted anything to do with the war; I don't know if I could have endured boot camp.

For me now to say, "bring back the draft" would be too hypocritical for even a journalist. Yet, there is something gravely wrong with a system that sends thousands of our young soldiers to die while killing tens of thousands of Iraqis in the process. Especially since all this is essentially being ignored by millions of happily partying Americans.

Last week I talked to David Segal, director of the Center for Research on Military Organizations. He is a sociologist who has studied things military for many years. "Nobody anticipated using a volunteer army to get us through a long ground war," he told me.

"What I think everyone thought was that if we got into a war that lasted more than six months, they would bring back the draft." Naturally, Dick Cheney and perhaps even his puppet know that would certainly do them in. No, there won't be any draft for this war — but they might have to bring back the draft sooner than you think.

The brutal fact is that if North Korea swarmed across the border and invaded the south again, or anybody attacked us or any of our proxy states, we'd be up a certain creek without any Charmin to squeeze.

Two years ago, for the sheer hell of it, I let some military recruiters talk to a large class of mine at Wayne. Afterward I chatted with an officer. The recruiting slogan, "An Army of One," came up.

"Do you know what that really means?" my new buddy said wryly.

"That's the number of soldiers we have who are not in Iraq, on their way to Iraq, or on the way back from Iraq."

Here's an arresting little fact for you. We now have fewer men and women in uniform than we have had at any time since 1940, when the United States had less than half the population it now does.

Everybody says we need more, but even if Congress would appropriate the money needed, good luck getting them. Last week, the Associated Press reported that the military considers up to three out of every four potential recruits not good enough to serve.

Why? Some of them — more than ever before in history — are too fat. Some — more than ever before in history — are on drugs to treat hyperactivity disorders. Others have recently used illegal drugs.

The military doesn't want recruits with gang tattoos or criminal records. They can't very well sign up any of the growing number of youngsters in jail or prison — and now for the bad news.

Most of those few who the armed services really would like to sign up don't have any desire to go. For some strange reason, college or a civilian job looks more inviting these days than having your legs blown off by an improvised explosive device.

Army recruiters are having a particularly hard time lately making their quotas. Not to worry, however; thanks to the way the Michigan economy, particularly the automotive sector, is going, the Mitten State should be an increasingly fertile burying — oops — recruiting ground.

Jack Lessenberry opines weekly for Metro Times. Send comments to letters@metrotimes.com.

Found this on the internet and thought you might get a laugh from it.

1. The Japanese eat very little fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

2. The Mexicans eat a lot of fat and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans

3. The Chinese drink very little red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

4. The Italians drink excessive amounts of red wine and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

5. The Germans drink lots of beer, eat lots of sausage and suffer fewer heart attacks than Americans.

CONCLUSION:
Eat and drink what you like. Speaking English is apparently what kills you.


hugs, Tawny

So, my Uncle Junior, the fellow who, although in his mid-50's, exclusively dates elderly women, had some drama going on over the weekend.

Apparenty he and the oldest of his lady friends, they talk every day. Every single day. So Saturday Uncle Junior didn't phone her. She called and called him, but no answer. She called my Uncle David, all upset, told him Uncle Junior had a touch of sugar and she was afraid he had 'fallen out' and needed medical attention, please go check on him. Uncle David drove over to the high rise apartment building where Uncle Junior lives, banged and banged on his door, no answer. He asked management to go in and make sure Uncle Junior wasn't ill. Turns out he wasn't even home.

Today, when Uncle Junior got home and found out that everybody and his brother had been worried about him, he disclosed that he'd spent them weekend at his other honey's house!

Come to find out, the two elderly ladies are extremely jealous of each other and when he 'disappears' they know he's with the other one. And whoever he isn't with gets on the phone with various members of our family and riles them up with 'concern' for Uncle Junior's welfare.

As The World Turns Michigan-style.

Tawny
tawnyford@webtv.net

While surfing the cable tv channels the other night I came across a show on TLC, The Learning Channel, about the Duggar family. I'm sure you've heard of them. Jim Bob and Michelle Duggar. They received a lot of media attention when they had their 16th child.

My first thought when I heard about them was just who are these freaks? 16 kids? Whew! But after seeing them on tv, well, the parents and the children sure do seem like a really nice bunch of folks. The children are well cared for, they're well behaved and very articulate.

www.jimbob.info/index.htm This is their website. You should check it out. It's an interesting read.

Tawny

Just in case you feel like making something Irish-inspired for St. Patrick's Day, here is a recipe for Soda Bread. It doesn't have those icky currants or raisins in it, and it doesn't bake up hard like a brick as some soda bread recipes do.

**********

SODA BREAD

4 c. flour
1 t. salt
1 t. baking soda
1 t. sugar (optional, but I always add it)
2 c. buttermilk or sour milk (I've always used buttermilk)

Thoroughly mix dry ingredients in large bowl. Add enough of the buttermilk to make a soft dough. (It should be almost too sticky to work with.) Turn out onto a well-floured pastry cloth and knead very briefly but enough to make sure the dough is smooth. Work fast because as soon as you add the buttermilk it reacts with the baking soda to make the bread start to rise.

Form a round loaf about 1 1/2" thick - just pat it out into a rough circle working quickly. Cut a cross in the top with a floured knife (cut about ½" deep at least). Place on a lightly floured baking sheet and put at once into a preheated 450F oven. (I always bake mine directly on my baking tiles.) Place on the top shelf. Bake for 30-45 minutes until golden brown and it sounds hollow when you rap on the bottom of the loaf with your knuckles. Wrap immediately in a clean tea towel if you want a soft crust. (I personally prefer a crisp crust.) (From A Little Irish Cookbook by John Murphy.)

**********

I found the recipe in the online cooking newsgroup. Hope you enjoy it.

Tawny

Are you familiar with Audre Lorde? She was, in her own words, "a Black, lesbian, mother, warrior poet." And an activist, teacher, cancer survivor and author 17 books of poetry and prose.

Syracuse Cultural Workers, the company I told you about yesterday, sells a poster with a photo of Audre Lorde and a quotation of hers. I bought one years ago when I went into business for myself and it still hangs on a wall in my office.

"When I dare to be powerful--to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid."

Some folks think it's hokey and/or just too hippie-ish to hang posters on walls. Me, I don't give a hooey what anyone thinks. It is important, I believe, to have positive reminders. Posters with words such as the one quoted here, well, they are positive reminders.

I don't know about you, but I need all the positive reminders I can get.

Tawny

Yesterday's mail brought a copy of the latest Syracuse Cultural Workers catalog. (www.syrculturalworkers.com)


On the back page I found this and wanted to share it with you:


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Staff Sergeant Camilo Mejia: Imprisoned for opposing Iraq war.

"To those who have called me a coward I say they are wrong and without knowing it they are also right. They are wrong when they think I left the war for fear of being killed. I admit that fear was there, but there was also the fear of killing innocent people, the fear of putting myself in a position where to survive means to kill, there was a fear of losing my soul in the process of saving my body, the fear of losing myself to my daughter, to the people who love me, to the man I used to be, the man I wanted to be. I was afraid of waking up one morning and realizing my humanity had abandoned me."

Camilo was sent to Iraq with the Florida Army National Guard in April 2003. The prison abuse he witnessed and the inhumanity of the war/occupation prompted his refusal to return to Iraq after a leave. One of the first Ira war resisters imprisoned he did nine months, and was released 2/05.

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Tawny
tawnyford@webtv.net

If you called me last night between 9pm est and 11pm est, well, I'm sure sorry I missed talking with you, but what were you thinking? Don't you have HBO?

The Sopranos were on last night, their new season, after a hiatus of what? 21 monthes? I'll tell you this, if it wasn't that the show was so good they would have lost me after disappearing for so long.

But the show is, was and always has been terrific! And last night was no exception. In fact, generally speaking, the first couple of shows of each new season usually aren't all that exciting. Why? I don't know exactly. Maybe it's the fact that they're trying to bring you back up to speed on the characters and the story line. Maybe it's because they're introducing new characters.

But last night, wow! It was great!

HBO introduced a new series immediately following The Sopranos at 10 pm est. Big Love. It's about polygamy. I hope it turns out to be a good one, as good as Six Feet Under, because Sundays with two HBO shows back-to-back, mmmmmm so good.

Tawny

Being part-Irish myself, this is the week for the Irish and the wannabe Irish alike. St.Patrick's Day is Friday. As you probably already know, depending on what day of the week it falls on, it is either the biggest party day or party weekend of the year.

Here in the metro Detroit area, the big parade was today. The Irish, with bands and floats, marched down Michigan Avenue in Detroit. Every year I say I'm going and every year I forget until I see it on the news that night.

If you're curious about all things Irish in the Detroit, Michigan area, here's a website to check out: www.detroitirish.org.

In downtown Farmington there are two Irish bars, Dunleavys and John Cowleys. From the moment they open on St. Patrick's Day, until closing time at 2am, swarms of people will be all but hanging from the rafters with glasses of green beer clutched in their hands. There will be terrific traffic jams in town and finding a parking spot anywhere in the downtown area will be an exercise in futility.

I don't 'do' St. Patick's Day. The only time I've ever been out in the midst of the celebrating was when I tended bar. My parents though, my parents went out every year. They celebrated at Dooleys, an old Irish bar that used to be on Grand River in Detroit.

If you decide to hoist a pint of green beer, please be very careful. Drinking and driving is a no-no.

Tawny

I don't think my Uncle Robert and his wife made it to town. Family rumor, from an unreliable source, had them driving in from California this weekend.

Thinking about seeing them got me to thinking about all of my uncles. I don't know about yours, but my uncles (and aunts) are an interesting, yet motley bunch.

My one uncle, Uncle Junior, and no! he's not like the Uncle Junior on The Sopranos, is in his mid-50's. He's tall, rather nice looking, and has a marvelous singing voice. In fact, just about all of my uncles, except for Robert, could have had a career in the music industry if it hadn't been for my grandfather. Granddaddy put the cabash on it right after the uncles won a major talent contest in Detroit 'back-in-the-day'. Granddaddy said no sons of his were going to make a living singing the devil's music. A few years before he died, Granddaddy apologized to the uncles for that decision.

Anyway, the thing with Uncle Junior is that he dates elderly women. He exclusively dates elderly women. He has two that he's particularly fond of, one close to 70, the other in her mid-70's. Armchair psychologist that I am, I think it's unresolved issues with his mother, as well as the fact that elderly women are non-judgemental and just so damn thankul to have a young (to them) man on their arm.

I asked him one time what was up with the elderly women and he said he didn't want to get married again. So, I said to him, date women your age and be up front abut the no marriage thing. He said it was just a lot easier to date the elderly.

Uncle Junior was married once a very, very long time ago. He has three grown kids and several grandkids. They live in Illinois. Family legend has it that when his wife divorced him it so broke his heart that he vowed never to fall in love again.

Such a story, huh?

Tawny

I hope you didn't try to fax me today. Why? Because Kathleen, my beloved cat, went bonkers and disconnected the fax machine!

Ever since she was a tiny kitten she's had a 'thing' for the fax machine. I used to have a big gray fax machine, sturdy as all get out, and every time she heard the machine ring--no matter where she was in the house--she'd come running like the banshees were chasing her! and jump and land on top of the fax machine. Then she'd bat at the paper as it rolled out of the machine.

A year or so ago I replaced the old fax machine with one of those sleek new ones, a Sharp, that's much too much of a lightweight for a full grown cat to jump on. After jumping on the new machine a few times and the both of them landing on the floor, now she perches on the table and swats the faxes as they roll out.

Today someone kept faxing me over and over and over again. It must have been too much for the cat because next thing I knew the machine was dead. She had crawled behind it somehow and disconnected the cables.

You would think if a cat could disconnect it, surely I could reconnect it, right? Well, so far I've had zero luck. So if there's anything you need for me to see, email me, please, at tawnyford@webtv.net.

Tawny

Are you all ready for Sunday? Hmmm? What do you mean you don't know what I'm talking about? Sunday, this Sunday the 12th! Come on, you have to know what I'm talking about!

This Sunday is the first episode of the new season of The Sopranos!

Frankly, I'm thrilled to pieces that the show is back on. Sunday just isn't Sunday without Tony and Carmella and Johnny Sack and Uncle Junior.

I've been watching the Sopranos since the first season and I'm hooked. I don't want to hear that junk about how it's unfair to Italian-Americans either, blahblahblah. It's a tv show, not a documentary.

I'm also looking forward to Deadwood returning, and the Wire, and I sure hope the newest HBO show, I can't remember its name but it airs right after the Sopranos and it's about polygamy, I sure hope it's good because two good HBO shows back-to-back on a Sunday night, well, that's a real good time in my book.

Ciao,
Tawny

Did you watch the Oscars last night? Normally I don't. I'm not a fan of reality tv shows or awards shows, but I watched last night because 1.) I enjoy Jon Stewart and 2.) I was hoping to see 'Hustle and Flow' pick up some awards.

It was priceless to watch everyone in the audience listen to 'It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp', the song from Hustle and Flow. And it was major fun to see that song win as Best Song. Those guys were thrilled to pieces to get the Oscar!

Funny thing, here on the local news at noon, WDIV (the NBC affiliate), mentioned all of the winners EXCEPT for the guys who won for the song. What's up with that?????

hugs, Tawny

Read this on the internet and thought it was cute. It is written by John Carroll of the San Fransico Chronicle.

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The following is the first communique from a group calling itself Unitarian Jihad. It was sent to me at The Chronicle via an anonymous spam remailer. I have no idea whether other news organizations have received this communique, and, if so, why they have not chosen to print it. Perhaps they fear starting a panic. I feel strongly that the truth, no matter how alarming, trivial or disgusting, must always be told. I am pleased to report that the words below are at least not disgusting:

Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States. We are Unitarian Jihad. There is only God, unless there is more than one God. The vote of our God subcommittee is 10-8 in favor of one God, with two abstentions. Brother Flaming Sword of Moderation noted the possibility of there being no God at all, and his objection was noted with love by the secretary.

Greetings to the Imprisoned Citizens of the United States! Too long has your attention been waylaid by the bright baubles of extremist thought. Too long have fundamentalist yahoos of all religions (except Buddhism -- 14-5 vote, no abstentions, fundamentalism subcommittee) made your head hurt. Too long have you been buffeted by angry people who think that God talks to them. You have a right to your moderation! You have the power to be calm! We will use the IED of truth to explode the SUV of dogmatic expression!

People of the United States, why is everyone yelling at you??? Whatever happened to ... you know, everything? Why is the news dominated by nutballs saying that the Ten Commandments have to be tattooed inside the eyelids of every American, or that Allah has told them to kill Americans in order to rid the world of Satan, or that Yahweh has instructed them to go live wherever they feel like, or that Shiva thinks bombing mosques is a great idea? Sister Immaculate Dagger of Peace notes for the record that we mean no disrespect to Jews, Muslims, Christians or Hindus. Referred back to the committee of the whole for further discussion.

We are Unitarian Jihad. We are everywhere. We have not been born again, nor have we sworn a blood oath. We do not think that God cares what we read, what we eat or whom we sleep with. Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity notes for the record that he does not have a moral code but is nevertheless a good person, and Unexalted Leader Garrote of Forgiveness stipulates that Brother Neutron Bomb of Serenity is a good person, and this is to be reflected in the minutes.

Beware! Unless you people shut up and begin acting like grown-ups with brains enough to understand the difference between political belief and personal faith, the Unitarian Jihad will begin a series of terrorist-like actions. We will take over television studios, kidnap so-called commentators and broadcast calm, well-reasoned discussions of the issues of the day. We will not try for "balance" by hiring fruitcakes; we will try for balance by hiring non-ideologues who have carefully thought through the issues.

We are Unitarian Jihad. We will appear in public places and require people to shake hands with each other. (Sister Hand Grenade of Love suggested that we institute a terror regime of mandatory hugging, but her motion was not formally introduced because of lack of a quorum.) We will require all lobbyists, spokesmen and campaign managers to dress like trout in public. Televangelists will be forced to take jobs as Xerox repair specialists. Demagogues of all stripes will be required to read Proust out loud in prisons.

We are Unitarian Jihad, and our motto is: "Sincerity is not enough." We have heard from enough sincere people to last a lifetime already. Just because you believe it's true doesn't make it true. Just because your motives are pure doesn't mean you are not doing harm. Get a dog, or comfort someone in a nursing home, or just feed the birds in the park. Play basketball. Lighten up. The world is not out to get you, except in the sense that the world is out to get everyone.

Brother Gatling Gun of Patience notes that he's pretty sure the world is out to get him because everyone laughs when he says he is a Unitarian. There were murmurs of assent around the room, and someone suggested that we buy some Congress members and really stick it to the Baptists. But this was deemed against Revolutionary Principles, and Brother Gatling Gun of Patience was remanded to the Sunday Flowers and Banners committee.

People of the United States! We are Unitarian Jihad! We can strike without warning. Pockets of reasonableness and harmony will appear as if from nowhere! Nice people will run the government again! There will be coffee and cookies in the Gandhi Room after the revolution.

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hugs, Tawny

When you call me on Saturdays between the hours of 11AM and 2PM EST, and you hear music in the background before I can get the volume turned down, I'm listenig to my very favorite radio show--Folks Like Us on WDET. Here's a link to the show---www.folkslikeus.org Yes, it's folk music! And it's the only folk radio show in the metro Detroit area.

What usually happens around here, and why it tends to sound like a concert hall on your end of the phone, is I have all of the music machines in the house, both on the main floor and in the basement, tuned to the show at the same time. No matter where you are, you don't miss a note of it.

The best sound, by far, is coming out of my bedroom. I have one of those BOSE radio/cd players on my dresser. A very dear person gifted me with it. And you know what? The sound is even better than they tell you in their ads! If you like music then you really should have a BOSE.

And speaking of BOSE, when I was at Sam's Club yesterday I saw they have BOSE speakers for your computer. I don't recall the exact price, but I know it was less than a hundred dollars. If I had a computer, instead of this webtv unit, I would have purchased a set of them.

Do they have outdoor music festivals where you live? If so, do you ever attend them?

As you'll see from the website (www.folkslikeus.org) Michigan has quite a few of them. Every once in awhile I get to one of them and they're nothing short of wonderful. As good as music on the radio or on cds is, live is so much better.

hugs--
Tawny
www.tawnyford.com

Rumor, and that's all this is because I only heard it from my cousin and she's not the most credible person on two feet, has it that my Uncle Robert and his wife are coming to town next weekend. The last time I saw them was in 2004 when we had two family funerals almost back-to-back in Michigan City, Indiana. Uncle Robert, and it's Robert, never Bob, heaven forbid!, lives in California. Whenever he and Aunt Dot come this way they always rent a car and drive. In 2004 they made the looooong drive twice in less than a month, the first time when Uncle Mack was murdered and then a few weeks later when Uncle Gump passed away.

The reason I'm not certain they're coming is because no one is terminally ill, no one has died, and there's no wedding coming up. Generally speaking, the only time they come to town anymore is if it meets one of those three events. Of course, when my grandparents were alive, they drove out more often just to see them.

Used to be we all would meet up in Michigan City at least once a year, either in July or September. A summer get together so everyone could see the newest baby and catch up on the latest family news. Since Uncle Mack and Uncle Gump died, well, there's been no big get togethers.

I think if it had just been Uncle Gunk dying we'd still be getting together every summer. He had been ill for a number of years, his kidneys, and so we were all prepared to have him pass.

But Uncle Mack, that was a shock. Murder always is. Thing is, it isn't even the fact that he was murdered that's kept everyone from gathering. Nope. It's the guilt of so many family members. See, Uncle Mack was a drinker. Truth be told, most of my family can pound then down like professionals, so it wasn't just that Mack drank heavy. It was the way most of the family treated him. Like he was beneath them. You know? They dogged him something fierce. Now that he's gone it's killing them. Guilt is a mother scratcher.

Be nice to your loved ones. You never know when God will call them home.

Tawny

Listen, you don't have to say it, I realize I haven't written anything in nearly a month. Why? I haven't been feeling all that terrific. Okay, I know when we spoke on the phone I sounded fine, you're right about that. It's not like I had a cold or anything, Fact is, I've been depressed. Remember me telling you that I tripped and fell over the laundry basket back in early December? And the laundry basket came out just fine, but I tore up my knee and my neck, etc.? Well, it's my knee. It just hasn't been right and it's been getting me down.

So it's slightly better now, although still not well enough to go dancing on it. But I'm feeling better and here I am again!

Tawny