Puny and Defenseless

I'm sure, by now, most of you have noticed the counter at the top of the blog on The Arizona Land Exchange & Conservation Act, otherwise knows as S.3157. The bill got re-introduced, I believe for the third time, on June 18, 2008 by Senator Kyl for another stab by Resolution Copper to get the copper they want from the sacred Apache Leap area, just east of Superior. The bill is scheduled to be heard in the Subcommittee on Public Lands and Forests this Wednesday at 2:30 (SD-366, if you're going to be Washington and want to make your views known).

It's not real popular with the public if the counter at the top of the page is any indication. At the time of this writing it is running 14% For and 86% Against, but I don't think public sentiment means a hill of beans difference to those in Washington when Big Money is at stake. Just shut up, folks, and let us handle it, seems to be the situation here.

I've read the bill on the Thomas website several times and believe me, I'm no lawyer and I haven't got one around to tell me what it is I am reading. But what I'm gleaning from this version of the Land Exchange Bill is that this time around, there are some environmental policies in effect, even if it looks a bit skewed to me. (Hey, I'm willing to admit I might be wrong, but I'm just reporting it the way it appears to be written.) And this time, evidently, NEPA (the National Environmental Policy Act of 1969) will be followed instead of discarded, BUT the Secretary of Agriculture has to issue an Environmental Impact Statement before Resolution Copper "begins production in commercial quantities of valuable minerals". I would have thought that Resolution Copper would have to be responsible for producing an Environmental Impact Report that would then have to be accepted by the Secretary of Agriculture. So why should the onus be on the Federal Government who is going to be the one who will approve it in the end? Maybe I'm missing something here. But it sounds like the same entity is judge and jury. Are there going to be hearings on this Environmental Impact Statement, so the public who appears so negative against this land exchange can weigh in on it? Or are we going to be ignored for this portion too?

I'm aware that the Feds do things differently than the States, but this ignoring of what the public wants, doesn't sit well with me. Resolution Copper badly wants this big vein of copper ore sitting on Federal Land and it looks like this time, the Feds are quite likely to hand it to them, with little regard for what the people want. Will Resolution Copper do the right thing and protect our water supply? Will they ensure that Apache Leap doesn't shift or implode with their block cave mining two miles deep underground? There's no assurances in the Land Exchange Bill. There's very little in the bill that addresses my concerns. So maybe I'm just one of those useless dumb entities that the Feds override to keep "business as usual". But this Land Exchange Bill feels like the Feds and the international copper company are ganging up on the "little guys" to get what they want and the rest of us don't matter.

I'd love to hear other opinions on this matter. It may be that I'm misinformed. What do you think about it?

Kitchen Nazi

Charlie had his head buried in a new book yesterday and Sage was at loose ends, so I suggested he help me mix up a batch of chocolate chip cookies. For six years old, he's a fairly proficient cook and can crack eggs without adding shells to the batter. So we mixed up a batch. He even used the cookie scoop to lay them out on the baking sheet.

But when I opened the oven to slide the first tray of cookies in, Sage was disturbed.

"Grandma, why do you have that pan in the bottom of your oven?" he demanded.

"It's not a pan, Sage. It's a cast iron skillet and it's there so when I bake my French Bread, I pour water in it and it steams the bread, giving it a nice crunchy crust."

"But you're not making bread. We're baking cookies."

"True. But I'm not adding any water to it. It will be fine."

"I wish you'd take it out," he stated firmly. "I find it disturbing!"

So this morning, while cleaning up the kitchen, I took the offensive skillet out of the oven. Think Sage will notice on his next kitchen excursion?

T.M.I.

My cousin gave me three beautiful garlic bulbs of fresh garlic she'd grown in her garden. She recommended they be dried first before I used it. So I tied them up and hung them from a hook in my kitchen. They looked a little odd but I figured in a couple of weeks I could take them apart, peel the cloves and put them in a jar of virgin olive oil. Then... a few weeks more... I'd have me a jar of magic!

I hadn't counted on the boys. Charlie caught sight of the hanging garlic as soon as he entered the kitchen today. His face clouded. "What are you doing with those?" he demanded.

I explained about drying the cloves and then making my olive oil garlic.

"Whew!" he exclaimed, his face returning to happiness. "For a minute there, I thought maybe you were trying to scare away vampires!"

Downhill From Here

A short sentence from the soon-to-be-six-year-old as he departed from the bathroom got my attention. "Uh - Grandma! I think we've got a Big Problem. There's two things..."

Me (gulping): "What are they?"

"One: The toilet might be plugged up. Two: We're out of toilet paper!"


Okay, so that's the way the day started. Now the Soon-To-Be-Six-Year-Old turns six tomorrow and I wanted to make him a special cake. When I visited in March, I had a baker's catalogue with me and showed Sage a picture of some silicone cupcake "people" you can decorate up to look like monsters. They're a silicon cupcake cup set on big colored silicone shoes. They're pretty cute and Sage agreed these would make a great birthday cake for his sixth birthday.

Tonight, after the kids departed, I set to work. The cupcakes baked okay, but were a bit wobbly. The problem was, in the picture they showed, their cake tops rise majestically out of the cupcake wrappers and mine barely came to the top. Their tops were big and rounded and they used wonderful squiggles of icing to make it look like long orange fur. I'd have to add a gob of frosting to make mine 'rise' out of the cupcake cup. I mixed up an extra large batch of buttercream icing and then sliced some of the extra cupcakes I'd baked in half and 'glued' the tops on the silly feet cupcakes in the silicon molds. At least, now my monster people had tops big enough to frost.

But my icing proved too soft for good 'hair' texture. The icing hair was soon melting in my overheated kitchen and losing its shape. Plus, some of the glued tops of the other cupcakes I'd attached were overwhelming the silicon feet and they were lurching forward once I'd iced them, unable to stand up. Things were getting wonky in a hurry.

I jammed on Skittles for eyes and gummy candies for gooey smiles, then hurried the cupcakes one by one out to the spare refrigerator as I finished each one. Suddenly, making twelve Silly Monster cupcakes was assuming bigger proportions. I'd been at it for two hours when I carefully took the last one out. The top shelf of the refrigerator looked like a drunken party of frosting monsters. One leaned confidentially forward into another like he was imparting a drunken secret. Another had planted himself face forward onto the glass shelf. When I tried to right him, his face fell off in my hands. I had more frosting on my hands than I wanted to lick off. The door knobs on the back door and the refrigerator door were sticky with orange or blue icing (the color of my monsters).

Oh dear! The things I can talk myself into just for the approval of a sweet little ole six year old! I think he'll approve even if it wasn't the easiest cake decorating job. I have a much higher esteem for those in the industry who earn their living decorating with icing.

Tomorrow's the big day!

Ice Cream Summer

The boys and I went over to the boathouse on Friday afternoon. We got a new ice cream freezer and the boys were anxious to sample a Super Cone, a monstrous ice cream cone covered with chocolate and nuts. Ice cream cones bought, we seated ourselves on the bench in front of the boathouse and the kids started eating through the chocolate shell to the ice cream below. Nuts fell like rain to the pavement and Chuy anxiously devoured every little speck that rained down.

A lady came by reining in a high energy Husky. The dog was a light brown, with a white stripe down his face and looked pleasing with one green eye and one blue eye. Chuy stopped eating the nuts and zeroed his attention in on the dog. It looked enough like a wolf to be mesmerizing and Chuy is a magnet for wolf-type dogs. It's like they're going to open up the world for him. Every time he's ever seen a dog that looks like a second generation to a wolf, he goes Ga-Ga over it.

Anyway, I introduced Chuy to the lady and she said the dog's name was Cody and funny enough, both dogs were fifteen months old. Only thing was, Cody outweighed Chuy by sixty pounds, but that didn't bother the young dogs. They immediately went romping at each other: laying their upper bodies and paws out flat and thrusting their heads toward each other, daring the other one to move first, then flinging their bodies upward at the same time. Quickly they'd resume their flattened stance and wait for the other to move first. Amazing to me how dogs presume to know the rituals of play, but they sure do. And this dog was just as adept as Chuy at this new game.

The lady and I watched our dogs (both on leashes, but both playing avidly) with each other for a few minutes. There was never a hint that the bigger Cody would nip at little Chuy, in the two puppies' eyes, they were equals. The boys continued to eat their ice creams, the nuts and chocolate gone now and just the cones and ice cream left. A few nut pieces remained on the ground now that Chuy had met a new friend to romp with.

Charlie finished his cone and licked his sticky fingers. I told him to go inside to wash his face before we continued on our beach walk. Sage handed me his still mostly full of ice cream cone. "I'm done," he stated, and followed his brother inside to clean up.

"Chuy! You want some ice cream?" I asked.

Chuy forgot his new playmate and his game and materialized at my side. Ice cream cones are one of his favorite foods in the whole world. With Bill's and my help, he had discovered Dari Queen on the end of our walks in Superior and was a most obedient licker of ice cream.

"There's too much for you to eat it all," I told him, proceeding to hold the cone out to Chuy. "Would Cody be able to eat a bite or two?" I asked the lady.

"I'm sure he would," she agreed. "He loves ice cream."

Chuy was already taking two or three swipes of the ice cream with his tongue. He's one of those who savor ice cream, taking it lick after satisfying lick. Vicariously, I enjoy the ice cream as I watch it slowly disappear into Chuy's mouth. Man, he can make it look good!

But since Chuy had a new friend to share, after a couple of long licks from Chuy, I took the cone and held it out to Cody. He was right at my side in a moment as well. (Nothing like a good ice cream for getting your dog to obey!) His mouth opened, but instead of a tongue coming out to take a lick, the whole end of the ice cream cone disappeared into the Husky's mouth. "What!" I yelped.

Chuy stood patiently for his next turn, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, ready for his lick.

The ice cream and its cone disappeared down the Husky's throat.

"Oh dear, Chuy, I think your friend finished the cone." Chuy looked over and drew his tongue back into his mouth. I detected some spittle at the side of his mouth. Poor doggie had expected more!

"Oh! I'm so sorry!" the lady apologized. "Cody does love ice cream. Shall I buy you another?"

"Certainly, not," I assured her. "Sage had what he wanted and I didn't want Chuy to have that much." Chuy looked at me as though he would have answered much differently.

The lady turned to her husband. "Go inside and buy us some ice cream. Cody could probably eat some more."

The boys came out and we diverted the ice cream eating Chuy into a Running-After-Boys-On-The-Beach-Dog. Later, the ladies in the boathouse told me they'd sold out of half their ice cream on Friday afternoon. Whether it was the little boys enjoying their cones that drew the customers or the puppies slurping up ice cream cones, that was the big draw for that afternoon.

Forgetful

School has been out for a whopping four days and Sage was watching the Nick channel in the afternoon. A commercial came on for Sylvan, a children's tutoring service, where the little boy gets out of the pool and while he shakes water out of his ear, all the learning he'd done in the past school year falls out as well. Sylvan implores the parents to enroll their child in the summer program so their child won't fall behind.

Sage watched the commercial raptly, then yelped, "Oh... gosh!" in an extremely dismayed tone.

"What's the matter?" I asked, thinking he'd hurt himself.

"I think I've forgotten everything I learned in kindergarten!"

"What?!!" Unaware of what commercial he'd just been watching.

"Oh no, wait a minute...." His little body relaxed. "No, it's okay. I didn't forget. I can remember what I learned."

Oh good! I hate it when I forget a whole year's worth of learning and actvities. That sucks! Have a better day.

Old Customers

We had a full house at the boat landing this past week-end. The lowest tides of the year, some as low as a minus two foot ran during the week and that resulted in a lot of clammers and abalone divers visiting us. We were real busy in the boathouse renting boats and getting boats launched and tackle sold.

A lady came in to launch her boat and buy fishing licenses with her extended family. We only see her once a year for the low tides. She's been coming close to thirty years and though her face is familiar and I know she only comes once a year, I cannot remember her name. This lady is distinguished in that we'd come to know her as a pain-in-the-ass sort of customer. She would always show up for her boat rental on a busy low tide Saturday. She dithered around with obtaining licenses and copious quantities of saltwater taffy and never had her paperwork in order. It would invariably take us twice as long to take care of her compared to our other customers. Kerry and Pam and I usually tried to pawn this customer off on the other guy as we didn't want to be bothered with her.

This year, our customer had the look of the Cancer Ladies. You're surely familiar with the Look: a little cloche hat or tight scarf tied to their hairless head accompanied by that weary look of too much pain. She was also moving with a cane, quite slowly and looked to be consumed by the disease. But she was stalwartly trying to present a sunny side up disposition to her family. (I have no idea how she fared getting into and out of the boat on the clam beds and moving around on the mud flats with that cane.) She intoned to Pam that this year would be her last. We took it to mean that her cancer was terminal not just that maybe she'd had enough of clam digging after thirty years.

She got her paperwork done eventually and filled her pockets with two bags of taffy which they would consume on the clam beds. But then we proceeded to wait for her son. We always waited for her son. He was always the last to come into the boathouse and would need to fill out his fishing license. It'd been this way ever since he'd turned sixteen and needed a license. He had to be somewhere in his thirties now. He was a fat, selfish young man, thoroughly involved in his own activities. I never saw him pay much attention to his attentive mother. Over the thirty something years we knew her, she doted on him. There was nothing wrong with this fat, greedy boy in her book. When he finally showed up this year, still late, of course, I was a bit gratified to see that he was a bit less fixated on himself and allowed his mother a wee bit of attention, since it would be her last year clam digging.

They departed for the clam beds and I felt depressed. This surely, would be the last time we'd see her and I couldn't even remember her name. It's not like we don't see our old customers die each year. The older we get, the more names we collect each year. It used to be maybe three to five a year we'd lose, now, it's more like one or two dozen! And it depresses me to know they'll just be names we conjure up in our conversations about "The Old Days" and we won't see them anymore. But I guess that's the way it has to be after running this business for fifty one years. Sometimes I think we'll have a bigger crowd of spirits on the Other Side enjoying our area in ghostly form than the physical bodies actually coming out to enjoy. What a crowd we have building!