Heifer Hijinks...more like Humiliation

When I think of going home to visit my family after several months of straight city-life in Norfolk, I get warm tingly feelings and John Denver lyrics start playing in my head.  I love my home in the Shenandoah Valley dearly, but sometimes living in the country leads to unconventional fundraising ideas.

Last night at my brother's high school football game, the announcer kept updating us on how many votes the football coach and the band director had.  What for, might you ask?  Well, apparently anyone could pay a small amount of money to buy a vote for one of a few Spotswood High School faculty members to have to "Kiss the Cow."  I put it in quotes, but it's actually exactly how it sounds.  Who ever had the most votes at the end of the football game had to kiss a cow, named Tammy, on the lips.  It sounded rather ridiculous to me, but eventually I got into it and listened to the tally of votes announced every so often, hoping to see my former band director have to pucker up.  As the game went on though, my frustration with certain members of the coaching staff had me wanting the head coach to have to kiss Tammy.  In the end, we lost the football game and Greg Oaks, the band director won the most votes to "Kiss the Cow."  I suppose it's good it worked out this way, since no coach, competent or not, should have to kiss a cow in public after suffering defeat from his school's biggest rival.

Mr. Oaks and Tammy, post-smooch

While Greg Oaks had to get slimed by Tammy's wet nose, I feel the most sympathy for Tammy the cow.  The second half of this fundraising event was something called "Cow Plop Bingo."  The field was divided into a grid and people could buy spots on the grid for a small price.  After the game, and after having to kiss the band director, Tammy was led out onto the field to walk around until she pooped.  Wherever she pooped would be matched up to a spot on the grid, and the owner of that spot would win $500, with the surrounding spots earning $40 each.

Tammy being led onto the field

I feel sorry for the cow in this situation.  We were told that she had been fed some "special grains" to help make sure she actually pooped on the field during the allotted 30 minutes.

At first she seemed to enjoy herself, running and jumping around

After a bit though, Tammy decided she was ready to exit the field

Finally she just decided to graze on the trampled turf

All the while Tammy was wandering around the football field, the radio announcer from 98 Rock kept mooing over the loud speaker.  It was funny at first because each time she heard him, Tammy would raise her head from the grass she was nibbling and look around with her ears perked up, looking for the source of the call.  But after a while I just felt pity for this poor animal who had been fed some sort of laxative and was now being paraded around in a strange area with loud unfamiliar, and probably scary, noises.  Not to mention she was expected to poop in public; not a small feat for most.

Tip for the day

BUY AIR FRESHENER THAT DOESN'T SPRAY LOUDLY

Why, might you ask?  There are several reasons actually.

1)  I'm a Resident Assistant (RA).  If I knock on your door while you're doing something you shouldn't be, smoking weed let's say, you make it extremely obvious by spraying air freshener for a good 30 seconds before answering the door.  News flash: if your room smells so strongly of weed that you need to spray that much air freshener, I guarantee you I've already smelled it in the hallway.  The sound of Lysol being unleashed in your apartment just makes you look like an idiot.

2)  For the sake of any poor soul that must face the embarrassment of a bowel movement in your bathroom.  I know that everybody poops and for the majority of us, our personal waste does not smell like potpourri.  Unfortunately, there are people who think they can fool others into thinking so.  On more than one occasion I've had a boyfriend spend up to 20 minutes in my bathroom, followed by a good 2 or 3 minutes of spraying air freshener.  I will admit it's a bit awkward just chilling there waiting for him to come out of the bathroom for 20 minutes, but what's even worse is sitting there helplessly as you hear him turning your bathroom into a garden-scented gas chamber.  Guys, if you're that worried about the smell you leave behind in the bathroom, carry a book of matches in your pocket.  One lit match does the job much more efficiently and less offensively to the nose than half a bottle of Glade.  Although Heaven forbid, DO NOT light a match after spraying all that air freshener!

3)  If I'm coming over to hang out and I knock on your door and then hear you spraying a ton of air freshener around the room or apartment, it is just going to draw my attention to whatever smell you're trying to cover up.  Odds are I'm going to assume you just farted before I got there or that you don't keep your apartment clean and therefore it smells like Satan's toenails.  If you know you're about to have company, please clean up a bit and decompress your bowels in the bathroom, if you must.

I suggest buying Febreze Air Effects...it sprays quietly and unobtrusively :)

Ah, the highs and lows of reading a great book

I love to read. I'd forgotten how much I love to read until recently. Spring break allowed me a rare opportunity to revert back to my high school ways of completely immersing myself in a novel, using every moment of spare time to milk a little more of the plot from the pages. Mundane tasks that involved sitting in waiting areas became exciting again, and I looked forward to the waits that would come with getting my oil changed, seeing the eye doctor, waiting for my turn in the chair at the hair salon. I've heard it said that, on average, an American spends a few years of his or her life waiting. Alas, just imagine if I could take a year of that all at once to do nothing but read for pleasure! I think I would read a mixture of old and new, engrossing myself in new stories and revisiting the books I love that gave me an appreciation for the power of imagination and the written word. If you don't feel like reading this whole post, skip to the last paragraph, which is the reason I started writing this in the first place.

Like many others in my generation, I fell in love with reading when I opened the first Harry Potter book. Recommended to me by my friend, Jillian, I quickly became involved in the story, drinking in the first three books of the series during my fifth grade year. Eagerly awaiting for the subsequent four novels was a valuable lesson in patience. Although I often forget, I learned that some things are worth waiting for and that the wait makes the treat that much sweeter.

Reading is such an emotional activity for me. The older I get, the more easily others' emotional stories move me. I don't think this is necessarily a good thing, considering I am only 21 and if this trend continues, I will be a mess by the time I'm 30! I am extremely empathetic and find a way to relate to the characters in the books I read, so when something happens to the character in the story, I cry as if it has happened to me. Same thing happens in movies. My film appreciation professor says that the goal of any film is to evoke an emotional response from the audience. I'd say most filmmakers would feel rather accomplished if all their audience members were like me! Anyway, I sometimes read in boring classes, which recently presented an amusing problem looking back on it. A character in the book I was reading (The Shelters of Stone) had suffered fatal wounds as a result of being trampled by a bison while hunting and was waiting for his mate to reach him to say goodbye before he succumbed to the pain and extensive internal bleeding. Of course, I was reading it as if it were my "mate" who was dying a quick but painful death, and I was having trouble fighting back tears in class. I'd read a sentence, take a break to prevent myself from tearing up, read another sentence, take a break to maintain my composure. One might wonder why I put myself through such emotional strife by reading such things. My professor is right. You go to the movies to feel a desired emotional response. That emotional response is not always happiness, joy, love or any other positive emotion. You might be seeking to experience an emotion you don't desire in any other circumstance. Most people don't like feeling scared, frightened and helpless, but there are tons of people who enjoy horror films (although I am not one of them). If an author is truly a great writer, he or she can invoke within the audience an emotional reaction to a situation they have never experienced and may never experience just from the way he or she accurately describes the motives and feelings of the characters involved.

While on the phone with Allison last night, she put into words the way I feel when I read a really good book. I'm paraphrasing, but basically, here is how she described it (with some additional insights of my own): When you're reading a good book, you become so involved in it that you constantly think about it, whether in the forefront or the back of your mind. You think about the characters of the book the way you think about people in your life. You think about how they would react to certain situations, and you miss them when you have been away from them for too long. You sometimes even dream about what is going on in the book, the way you would dream about events taking place in your own life. You become so invested in what you are reading that when you come to the end of the book or the series, it is like a part of your world is gone. What has consumed your thoughts and your free time is over. It's kind of depressing, really. Yes, you can re-read the book or the series again, but there are no new twists or turns of the plot to discover. Whenever I finish a good book or book series, I am sad and feel like I'll never be able to find something of equal value to read. I have a sort of mourning period after I finish. But thanks to the limitless imagination, creativity and individuality of mankind, and the endless pairings of words on a page, I always find a new literary treat to tickle my intellectual taste buds. Here's to the anticipation of the last book of possibly my favorite book series, Jean M. Auel's Earth's Children books. The sixth book of the epic series 31 years in the making will be here on March 29, and it couldn't come sooner!

Some engrossing books to try...

Baby steps to being a domestic goddess...

If you read my earlier post, you know that I'm not big into baking.  I don't do it that often and I have virtually no experience with baking things from scratch, so this is an exciting day for me.  My first attempt at baking banana bread was SUCCESSFUL!  Granted the recipe is from my sister's Children's Cookbook but hey, baby steps, right?  With a few extra hints from Allison, like using an extra banana, I was able to put my way-too-ripe bananas to good use instead of throwing them out.

As I peeled the blackening bananas, their smell made me second guess myself.  "Are these rotten already?"  But I remember Allison using bananas that were farther gone than these babies.  So I went ahead with the recipe, mashing the bananas into an almost-fermented pulp.  The recipe told me to butter the pan, so I rubbed a stick of butter around the pan until it was coated with a nice thin layer of grease.  I considered using Pam, but I wasn't sure if it would taste the same and I didn't want to call Mom just to ask how to butter a pan.  I'll pose the question on here:  What is the correct way to butter a pan for baking?  I assume Pam works just fine, but we have the "Original" version.  On the side of the can it said there are butter and baking varieties, so I thought maybe the original kind would taste funny.  Josh's mom, Bernadette did show me how to properly flour a pan for baking a while back.  I guess it's probably the same technique, minus the flour.  Anyway, I mixed all the ingredients together in the proper order and correct quantities and stirred it until it was uniform.  Then I poured my batter into the pan, popped it into the oven and hoped for the best.

Fast-forward about 45 minutes and the apartment smells deliciously like bananas and cinnamon.  I open the oven and yay!  The bread looks like it should!  I stick a knife in the center to check if it's done, and it comes out with a good bit of batter on it so I put it back in the oven.  Two more knife checks and about fifteen minutes later and I take the fully-baked bread out of the oven to cool.  My pan might only be a $4 Wal-Mart brand, but the handles are perfect for picking it up with only one hand.  Small detail, yes, but the fewer parts of my body I risk burning in the oven the better.

After letting the loaf cool for a bit, it came out of the pan perfectly.  I let it cool a little longer while I washed the pan and put my other baking utensils in the dishwasher.  Once the kitchen looked as clean as it did before I started baking, I finally cut into the warm, moist loaf and tasted my final product (I prefer my banana bread warm with a bit of margarine on it).  YUM!  Adjusting and learning from experience is the best way to get better at something, so I made some mental notes for my next banana bread baking session.  Use four bananas instead of three and a half (part of one of the bananas was just too gross to use) and add more cinnamon than the recipe calls for.  Maybe even substitute some allspice for some of the cinnamon.

Cooler than I expected...

Personally, I find it annoying when people tag their friends in random pictures, especially the ones that have a bunch of phrases like "Someone who can always make me laugh" or "This person has the prettiest eyes."  Who cares?  If you actually feel that way about someone without being prompted, send them a text, write on their wall, or hey, actually tell them in person!  When I'm going through pictures of someone on facebook, I really don't care if Sally Vanderbilt thinks Jonas Tweedle has a nice smile.

As you can imagine, I was a little put off when two of my friends tagged me in a random picture, especially one that had instructions for me to do the same.  I decided I wasn't going to participate, but today my history class was canceled and I found myself with an hour and a half to spare.  For whatever reason, I felt that time would be well spent creating a fake band name, album title, and album cover per the instructions under the photos I had been tagged in.  It actually ended up being kind of fun, and I think the end product looks pretty cool.  The picture and album title work well together, which is why I think this is so sweet, since it was completely random.  I think I'm going to use this method if I ever decide to start a band.  In case you want to try it for yourself, here are the instructions, straight from my friend's facebook (I added the links to make it easier):

1 - Go to wikipedia and hit 'random article' (left sidebar). The first random wikipedia article you get is the name of your band.
2 - Go to quotationspage.com and hit 'random quotes' (left sidebar). The last four or five words of the very last quote of the page is the title of your first album.
3 - Go to flickr and click on “explore the last seven days” (flickr.com/explore/interesting/7days/) ... Third picture, no matter what it is, will be your album cover.
4 - Use photoshop or similar (picnik.com is a free online photo editor) to put it all together.
5 - Post it with this text in the "caption" and TAG your friends.

My new favorite game...

I discovered my new favorite game last weekend.  I originally got the idea from my sister and her friend a long time ago, but I haven't been a position to try it until now.  I'll tell you now, you will most likely think it sounds stupid and pointless when I describe it, but don't judge until you try it.

Step 1:  Find some cheap paper towels (or expensive, if you have money to burn; although, if that's the case, still buy cheap paper towels and send me a check for the difference :)
Step 2:  Turn your ceiling fan on high.
Step 3:  Tear one of the paper towels off the roll and run it under water in the sink.  Squeeze it a little so that it's still sopping wet, but not dripping too much.
Step 4:  In the time it took you to prepare your paper towel, the fan should have reached the desired speed: "As-fast-as-it-will-go."  Toss the wet paper towel at the whizzing fan blades.
Step 5:  Laugh hysterically as the wet paper towel splats somewhere unexpected on the wall.  The noise is probably the funniest part (unless, of course, the paper towel ends up hitting a friend in the face...that would be funnier).
Step 6:  Repeat steps 3-5 until you run out of paper towels, or until someone responsible enters the room and requires you to cease fire and clean up your mess.

If you're lucky, you might end up with your room looking as awesome as this...

What makes the game even funnier is leaving the paper towels up for your roommate to find the next day.  A few disclaimers though...1) It may screw up your drywall 2) it will definitely mess up any posters that aren't framed if you leave the paper towels on it all night (see the poster on the left side of the picture above) 3) the floor will end up getting wet, so don't slip.

As someone who cares about the environment, I realize this game is a big waste of paper towels, so I wouldn't recommend playing this game regularly.  But whenever you're feeling down and need a good laugh, grab a paper towel or two, get them wet, and chuck them at the fan :)

Crumbs, ha!

It occurs to me that I make my posts way too long for anyone to care to read.  I named my blog "crumbs of consciousness," and here I am serving up whole two-layer cakes!  I'm going to try to make a point of posting random thoughts and ideas instead of spilling my guts about memories and boring stuff.  Hopefully it will cause me to post more often, since I won't be overwhelmed at the thought of sitting down and typing for an hour or so.  Here's to cutting this thing back down to "crumbs."

photo: http://www.smilinggoat.com/cookies.html

Some women choose to be in the kitchen...

I wish I liked to bake and cook.

Grandma is an amazing baker.  She makes all her pies from scratch, including the crust.  Grandma's pies are identifiable because she uses lard instead of shortening in her crust, which gives it a hint of bacon flavor to me.  Less than a hint really, but I can taste the difference.  It's a good difference though, contrary to how bacon-flavored crust sounds, and it is so light and flaky.  She uses whatever left-over crust dough to make a small brown sugar pie, which was my favorite as a child!  But I'm dwelling too long her pies, because Grandma makes amazing angel food cake, coconut cake, bread rolls, cookies, cinnamon rolls...the list goes on and on.  A particular favorite of the Echard family is the scotcheroo, which is a relatively common recipe featuring Rice Krispies that she has edited and doctored up to create a devilishly rich dessert.  To dwell only on her baking abilities would only tell half the story.  Grandma can cook like nobody's business.  She is known to whip a whole feast for the Echard family in a day all on her own.  Whether we were having a whole turkey, chicken or pork tenderloin, it was always accompanied by rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, corn, applesauce, coleslaw ("cold slop" as I called it when I was little), and some kind of beans.  There was usually a seasonal vegetable from Grandma and Grandpa's garden as well.  We'd eat til we were stuffed, then have second helpings (sometimes a third!), and manage to fit some homemade dessert on top of it all.  But I'm getting caught up in the memory of her lavish spreads and losing the focus of this post.  There are so many wonderful details of Grandma's culinary skills, I could dedicate a whole blog to her, but I must move one.

Before rheumatoid arthritis forced her to put the task of cooking on the back burner, if you will, Granny was a great cook with delicious recipes and traditional dinners that always left us delightfully satisfied and looking forward to the next meal at her house.  Although she doesn't do as much in the kitchen these days, she still contributes (with a bit of help from Grandad) to the family potluck whenever the Worden clan gets together.  I always look forward to her sweet sauerkraut at holiday celebrations; I remember how tender and savory her roast beef was, and how much I loved to pour gravy on the carrots she served with the roast.  Granny's green beans always have the perfect balance of sweetness and saltiness, along with the delicious flavor that a bit of bacon grease lends.  I know she has lots of scrumptious recipes that I've enjoyed growing up, although I have trouble distinguishing hers from my mom and aunts' recipes since they learned from her.

My aunts, Beth and Amy, definitely inherited the cooking gene.  Everything Aunt Beth makes is delicious, and it's a treat to vacation with the Mallalieus because she does most of the cooking when we stay in a house together.  She can bake too--her cakes, cookies and cobblers are gobbled up soon after being served.  Amy can certainly hold her own in the cooking/baking department of our family.  I haven't eaten as many dinners at Amy's house as I have at Aunt Beth's, so I cannot comment on the breadth of her culinary repertoire, but what I have tried is very good.  Amy uses her creativity and artistic ability to present her dishes in a way that makes them look straight out of a cooking magazine.  Two of Amy's strong points, in my opinion, are her salads and cheesecakes, both of which come with a variety of toppings that never disappoint!

Another generation of Worden women is emerging, whisk and wooden spoon in tow!  Allison and Hannah both find baking enjoyable and relaxing, and they do it as often as a they can.  Using old bananas that no one wanted to eat to make banana bread was Allison's springboard to the baking world.  The thought of those loaves of sweet, moist bread still make my mouth water, even though Alli has pretty much given up banana bread for more challenging recipes.  Peanut-butter balls are one of her current favorites, and I think she made about three or four batches while we were home for winter break.  Even though it is bad for my waistline, I like it when Allison bakes because I can usually get her to let me eat some of the cookie dough before she bakes it all!  Hannah can bake some pretty mean desserts, and she has mastered some of her mother's dinner recipes as well.  When her two brothers, Ben and Richard, were at Virginia Tech at the same time as her, Hannah would cook them dinner once a week (the boys bought the groceries).

Unfortunately, I, like my mom, do not quite have the culinary flair that other women in our family do.  Mom and I can follow a recipe and hope for the best, but when it comes to creating our own dishes, we don't really know where to start.  To give Mom credit, she did whip up some turkey and rice soup after Christmas on her own (even if it was a little bland).  This isn't to say that my mom is a bad cook; she has a solid base of recipes that we like and she is good at making...it just isn't quite as large or as diverse as most.  So you see we are capable and will cook out of necessity, but neither of us enjoy the act of cooking (let's not even mention baking) the way Aunt Beth or Amy do.

On a side note, it is agreed that Mom and I have certain "assets" that are considerably larger than the other women in our family.  Maybe there's a trade-off; God only gives you one of those two gifts. Can you imagine if men had to choose between a women with big breasts or one who could cook well?  My guess is that the demand and job security for plastic surgeons would skyrocket!