Taking a Little Field Strip

Looking for a way to eat paleo on the go...well when you are in a pinch and you are at Macca's, oh excuse me, as an American I guess I am supposed to call it McD's, you just order your burger, and field strip it. Meaning you just remove the buns and eat the burger. YES, YES, I KNOW, I KNOW, is this really paleo, not so much, but when one is traveling, on a lengthy road trip or just needing a quick bite on the go...this is a great way to keep to the diet. It also is a good way to transition into the diet, when you are still having the impulses to eat the foods you are used to, included the fast food and salty foods. Oh, and I also am very well aware that McDonalds burgers are consumed of variety of beef, if my memory serves its like 100 different blends, so that their burgers have the same signature taste around the world. It would be much better to have grass-fed beef burgers, but like I said, this is recommended only in a pinch. ***FYI*** The signature Big Mac was inspired by the Jalama Burger @ Jalama Beach in California. If one ever has the opportunity, I highly recommend making the drive out to Jalama Beach just to have one, its a delicious Angus burger (fresh from local farms) and while you eat it you can sit out soaking up the sun and watching surfers catch the waves out in the ocean. Along the drive you will spot the infamous California cows, and no, not the ones that are in the commercials on tv. Because those are actually filmed in Romania, from what I have been told. I am talking about the REAL California cows. When you are at home you can make your own field stripped burgers. Try turkey burgers wrapped in romaine or make mini sliders wrapped in lettuce. Also a burger along a nice bed of spinach with some red peppers is simply delicious, and nice way to get some added iron. So get to stripping, bare those buns and go topless! [Footnote: Macca's is the name of McDonald's in Australia, that is what Aussies have referred to it for years, and recently it was made official, that Macca's will be its' official name in Australia. ]

Self-Entitled

When you were growing up did you know what day your mom and dad got paid? And if so, do you know why you knew that? I am just wondering because a friend and I were talking recently and trying to figure out when this generation after the Y's and the X'ers came along that feels so entitled to everything NOW. I ask this question, because my friends' children got in their head that because their father got paid on a specific day, that it meant they were going to be able to go to the store and buy more toys. Mind you, this was after Christmas too. My friend, was deeply bothered that her children would even think this, as she has never taught them to assume they get whatever they demand. In fact, she teaches them to be frugal, to know that there are ways to stretch your money...she shows them how to shop for nice clothes at second hand stores, such as the Goodwill. So you can see why she was so troubled by their notion to spend their father's paycheck. We both discussed where they would have gotten this idea and thought, is it from their peers, is it from the commercials on t.v., where did they get this from? We both shared that we didn't know what day our father's got paid growing up, and even if it was mentioned, we would never have even thought of asking if we could spend their money. We knew better. We also talked about how this seems to be an epidemic that spreading throughout our society. I see it on a daily basis, young adults not only assuming their parents will pay for their wants, but demanding it. Somewhere we have lost this generation to what values, morals and ethics mean and why they are important. It is not simply that they feel entitled either, it is how they go through everyday life carrying this badge of entitlement like they are the law. Excuse me, but I thought to lay down the law you needed to be a judge, police officer, lawyer or military personel, all of which require some sort of training and/or education. My peers and I have often discussed how when we were growing up we were always told if we wanted something bad enough, we had to work for it. Meaning get a job and earn the money to buy what you wanted, our parents bought us what we needed: food, clothes, and kept a roof over our heads.

A Twit of Man, His Motorcycle, and a Safety Lesson

Last week, I viewed a rather disturbing scene, one that I posted on FB was more disturbing than a scene from a Rob Zombie film. I was driving towards Dover when I passed a twit of a man riding his motorcycle on his front lawn with an infant age child sitting in front of him. Now I must first admit this scene was distracting to my own driving, however, I felt like I was witnessing an accident (the kind where you want to look away but some sick human emotion that lies within you compels you to stay looking on). Well truth be told, it was an accident waiting to happen and I hope this twit realizes the importance of waiting until this child is older to share his love of motorcycles. I mean, this infant age child wasn't even old enough to drive his/her own big plastic tricycle yet. You remember the ones, that as a child you would make the peddles go backwards to brake and eventually by doing so you would wear away a hole in the bottom of the front tire.

Regardless, I felt as if this twit didn't understand that just because he was on his lawn with his motorcycle instead of the street that somehow this would keep him from having an accident. Okay, okay I admit to this twit of a pion of a man, that yes, you are probably not going to have an accident with another car, motorcycle or pedestrian. However, if you could have seen the way that you were mishandling the motorcycle as you tried to manuever it over those tree roots while making a turn in the yard, well you simply would have seen the recklessness of your actions waiting to unfold. What I witnessed was a man trying to bond with his child, who simply could not see that if he misjudged the depth of a tree root at all that infant age child could have easily slipped off the bike, falling to the ground and gotten crushed or run over by the motorcylce. Not to mention depending on which way this child could slip off, the child could also possibly suffer extreme burns from the pipes of the bike. So, as you read this you can imagine why I felt like vomiting.

So please, tell your fellow motorcycle enthusiasts to be smarter than this twit. And the only regret I have during this incident is not reporting what I saw to the police officer parked about a 1/2 mile down the road who was patrolling for people speeding. And I will admit that if I had seen the police officer a mile further I probably would have stopped, but at that current position as a I passed I was trying to keep myself from actually vomiting.

***Furthermore, as a wife of a motorcyclist I ask that everyone watch out for motorcycles on the road. Remember to keep a safe distance between you and the motorcycle(s). ***

Lost Stories from a Box in the Attic

The following story is a composition created by a 16 year-old boy and his older sister one summer day.

[from the voice of the 16 year-old boy] "I have gone mad and Donald the clown has died along with Mr. Caribu. Now what is left is what is myself, although, I am not myself...
No hate
No love
Nothing but the higher form of Caribu. Eat, sleep, breath, over and over. No frills, no chills, no air hockey.
The Empty, which is what I call my mortal sheel, is a vagabond, the perfect Hobo clown in the most Empty meaning. Because just like a man in a clown suit the empty must hide. The only constant is the image who is God. The image directs The Empty.
The Empty left the home of the Awakening, went down the road to the crossroads. I am not sure which road the Empty took but the image led him down the one he took. THE Empty would graze on weeds and grass but only what the image told him too. For forty days The Empty traveled, directed by the image never meeting a soul. On the day 41..." [the older sister's voice takes over here] "he goes into a bar. He is directed by the image, which is God, and the image tells him what is good, as his mind floods with the image of the peaceful caribu, and what is bad, as his eyes break under the hooves of the bucking bronco. He goes to the edge of the bar and the image directs him to look under a stool, where he finds a quarter. The image directs him to a payphone, he inserts the quarter and the image, which is God, tells him what to dial. Over the phone he hears, 'Congratulations, You're our 9th caller. You've won $5,000 dollars KYLE sweepstakes, as well as, free tickets to an opera.'
He realizes he is no longer The Empty, becuase he's no longer empty. The image, who is not God, but his god, has made him greed incarnate. Shortly after that, he realizes he must have been wrong because he was robbed by a toothless, yellow-bellied strawberry field migrant worker from West Virginia"

(This writing was composed by my husband, Kyle when he was 16 and his sister Rachel.)