Top Ten Worst Songs to have Stuck in your Head (ok, MY head)

10. The Monchichi commercial jingle from the 80's

9. I'm Henry the VIIIth I am

8. The Mozarabic Chant to Eucharistic Prayer D (yes, it happens EVERY Lent)

7. My Little Pony commercial jingle from the 80s - (was I watching Girl cartoons or something?)

6. D'd'd'd'd'Dora (the Explora')

5. Blues Clues

4. What's New Pussycat (or anything else by Tom Jones for that matter ;o)

3. 8-bit Zelda theme song

2. Hey Mickey

...

And the number one worst song to have stuck in your (my) head...

going on THREE CONSECUTIVE DAYS now (and thanks, Fuego, for reminding me tonight so it could have another encore)...

1. Windy (by The Association)

So ya, some of the others are worse in the grand scheme of things, but by **literally** the seven thousandth time in three days, I can think of no worse fate than to have this song stuck in my 'craw' for all eternity. (At this point I'm considering inventing a time machine just so I can go back in time and slap The Association for recording it.)

I made soup

Reentering the stream of blog life after a year and a month, I figured either I needed to have grown a third arm, won the nobel peace prize, or I would just have to bite the bullet and dive in with nothing more exciting and earth shattering than soup...

I also realized that having a private blog means that no one is reading it - thus no incentive to write anything new.

So... TCG is public again!

Oh -- I also have a new blog for Gluten Free recipes - "Boca del Fuego." Actually interested in hearing more about the earth shattering soup? You can check it out there.

I'll reserve this space for real life stories - and of course the more unorthodox creations involving peanut butter paired with foods and spices God never intended.

A Tail of Woe

So our newest addition to the family, feline sibling Pele, has recently been urinating on the bathroom floor. No, this isn't a silent protest about some grave injustice being perpetrated by his canine sister, Ginger, his human sister, Emjay, or his other feline brother, Fred. At first I was sure it was, but Pele, assured me (through our vet) that, in fact, he has crystals that are forming in his urinary tract (ouch).

This can be a very dangerous condition for a cat, resulting in blockages and death if the problem is not addressed.

So our vet, Dr. McDonalds, recommended a diet combination of wet and dry food, prescribing a medically available food that is about twice the price of the rocket fuel we already feed our pets.

Now, those who know Fuego and I know that we tend toward the hippie end of the treehugging spectrum. We have spent long hours researching what we feed our pets to try our best to minimize our carbon footprint, as well as maximize the nutritive balance of the foods they eat. We settle for nothing less than human quality foods with no fillers or byproducts, and have enjoyed the benefits of soft, shiny coats, high energy, and digestive bliss. While we were in seminary it is easy to say that the pets ate better than we did.

Since going gluten free, we changed their food, but not the quality (another two weeks of research), moving them away from grains, but maintaining the high level of quality ingredients we had come to demand from our previous supplier.

I say all of this in preparation for the explanation of Dr. McDonalds name.

Not only did she recommend Purina to us - telling us that "Purina's high end foods are really quite good," and that "if we can't afford the medically prescribed food, Purina's urinary health formula would be a good alternative" - but the prescription-only food she medically prescribed for Pele is filled (and by filled, I mean nearly ALL the ingredients) with animal byproducts, grains, and vitimins and minerals sourced from things a cat would NEVER eat in nature.

It's like raising a child on organic foods for the first twelve years of their life only to watch in dismay as they chose to live exclusively off of McDonalds and Hot Pockets in their teens.

So in researching the ingredients in our nutritionally sound rocket fuel vs. the medically prescribed junk food, I discovered only trace differences in the minerals that contribute to crystals, and that the ash (one of the contributing problems) is still LOWER in our food than in the McKibble. I also discovered, in researching cat's urinary health, that grains can contribute to the problem as they can make a cat's urine more base than acidic, allowing for the development of crystals, while a diet mainly composed of meat keeps a low pH (acidic), and prevents the formation of crystals.

End result? We're not giving Pele anymore McKibble - he didn't eat it anyway (good kitty!). We're fasting him on organic free range (yes, locally produced) chicken broth for 24 hours to get him out of the danger zone, and then we're upping his dose of wet food to help him get more water into his system (insufficient water intake is one of the main contributors to crystal formation, and is likely why he is getting them since his food is already better than the prescription formula).

I'll be returning the McKibble (which, by the way runs at $15/4lbs for McKibble vs. $30/20 lbs for Rocket Fuel) with a copy of my comparative nutrition analysis.

I know they mean well, but I think I may have to find a hippier vet ;o)

Return of Zach's!!

Anyone who has lived in Berkeley, or who has visited someone who has lived in Berkeley for that matter, has been to Zachary's Pizza. Mind you, they haven't been just once, but since their first visit, have never considered any other pizza to be of Zachary's caliber - secretly comparing every other bready, cheesy, meaty pie to the Zachary's goodness. It is unparalleled.

If you don't like Zachary's Pizza, you're wrong. I'm sorry to have to put it so bluntly, but you are. You should try it again when you're in the right state of mind, because something must have been blocking the goodness from reaching the taste, texture, and addictive succulence receptors in your brain.

So, now the problem. I can't tolerate gluten anymore. Not only does that mean I can't have pizza, but it means I can't have Zachary's pizza. Not only can I not have Zachary's Pizza, but I can't have Zachary's Pizza and an ice cold beer. This is a problem.

Moving away from Berkeley has meant that in the past two years I have only had Zachary's twice, and since I went gluten free back in October of 07, it means I have almost certainly been Zachary's free for over a year.

Tonight I have the distinct pleasure, ney privilege, ney HONOR to report that I have successfully recreated Zachary's pizza in gluten free form!

In all its deep dish, stuffed crust, chunky tomato, basily, garlicky, hidden cheesy, spiced to perfection goodness, I removed from my oven the near twin to my long lost Berkeley taste bud idol.

Even better than simply getting to have Zachary's... We found a gluten free beer while visiting Jbewan in New York that we have been able to find at Bevmo!

So for the first time in over a year, Fuego and I were able to sit down to a proper dinner of Pizza and Beer -- and OH MY GOD was it GOOD!

Thankfully I made two, because the first one didn't last long =o)

One parting shot of the beautifully towering crust, deep pocket of heirloom tomato, organic zucchini from our garden, garlic, cheese (drunken goat and goat mozzarella), fresh organic basil, and special blend of fantastically delicious spices -- mmmmmm.

Happy eating =o)

A Father's Confession

I put my daughter to bed for the first time tonight.

While Emjay has been with us for nearly a year now, and while I have put her to bed countless times over this past year, tonight was different. I didn't know it would be different -- after all she's been our "daughter" all along, right? But apparently something beyond expectation (and beyond explanation) happened today when the courts legally pronounced Fuego and I Emjay's parents and made us a "forever" family.

Tonight, at home, our house seemed more permanent. There was a peace in the air that, I think, all of us could feel. Emjay can never again be claimed by someone else and taken away from us -- we are her parents and she is our daughter. For better or worse, we are a real, permanent family -- forever.

So although Fuego and I have said all along that Emjay is our daughter, the horrible unspoken reality that she was a ward of the court, placed into our care "temporarily," has been a truth that has kept me guarded for almost a year. Every time I have comforted her, fed her, changed her, spent time with her, and risked loving her in the hope that someday she would truly be my daughter, a part of me held back. I don't think I really knew or understood that until tonight.

Tonight, with a simple piece of paper in our possession that says unequivocally that I am Emjay's father and Fuego is her mother, I truly felt it in my heart for the first time that Emjay is my real and true daughter.

Thus, through new eyes, I put my daughter to bed for the first time tonight. No longer guarded, no longer holding anything back. A real father putting his real daughter to bed -- just like every other real family gets to do.

Ya... I could get used to this =o)

Emjay

Having confessed my angst over my deteriorating relationship with my computer, I would be remiss in failing to blog about today's Emjay news!! So... while this cursed thing is up and running, with the program already open that I need, I am going to enjoy a brief opportunity to revel in functionality and blog TWICE in a single day -- thereby increasing my recent blogging productivity by infinity plus 2 (it's a product of zero kind of thing...sorry).

Today we signed papers with our two social workers that effectively ended Emjay's foster days -- she is officially no longer in foster care! (She is not, however, officially adopted, this will happen sometime between the last week in February and the first week in March.)

Today Fuego and I met with Emjay's county social worker and our adoption social worker to sign papers declaring our intention to adopt Emjay. While, of course, we intended all along to adopt her, the special significance of today's signing is that the State of California now recognizes Emjay as legally adoptable, and by our signing of today's papers, she has officially transitioned from being in foster care to being placed in her adoptive home.

Of all the years our social workers have collectively been working in adoptions, this was the first time they experienced a couple taking pictures of the signing. Yes, Fuego and I are officially the sappiest adoptive parents they have EVER met. They were, however, great sports about it, and the pictures will go wonderfully in Emjay's life book =o).

With today's signing, and tomorrow's adoptions paperwork from the county (that our adoptions social worker will be bringing for her LAST home visit), we will know by Friday what date has been set for us to meet with a judge to legalize Emjay's adoption and end this first stage of our lifelong journey together. Fuego and I are both ecstatic!

After obtaining the legal stamp of approval, Emjay will be issued a new birth certificate with her permanent name and with Fuego and I as her parents. While this will take about nine months to finally arrive at our home, it has already been VERY exciting to see all the new paperwork bearing Emjay's permanent name -- there's something profound and powerful about getting to name your child and have it actually recognized in legal documents after so many months.

And thus, having ultimately, and with profound finality, shed her "foster-stank," Emjay is preparing, in her newly designated residence of "Adoptive Placement" to be united permanently with her mama Fuego and papa Garnabus!

It has been a journey well worth repeating... which we plan to do in the near future ;o) Stay tuned!

Missing in Action

I have a bone to pick with my computer. When we first started courting, it was responsive, attentive, quick to please, and almost never disappointed me. It did what I asked without reserve and seemed only too happy to perform at optimal level, anytime, day or night -- it was almost as though I could do no wrong by my electronic companion.

Well, as time goes on, things change. Perhaps it feels that I took it's ready screen and responsive processor for granted over the long years of seminary when I took endless pages of notes for countless classes, wrote thousands of pages of papers (no really, thousands), and added programs and updated capabilities so that I could take teleconference classes over the internet from far distant countries. Perhaps it was offended when I insisted on using protection, installing and updating anti-virus software. Perhaps it felt I was cheating on it when I got that first job out of Seminary and came home smelling of another keyboard.

Whatever the reason, my computer is now no longer the computer I brought home. It is inattentive (it takes as long for it to come out of "suspend" as it used to take for it to start up from being completely off), slow to respond (opening any particular program can take as long as two minutes), haughty and condescending (suggests downloading and upgrading programs I've already downloaded and upgraded, and which have been running properly for months), self absorbed and self serving (it doesn't bother asking anymore whether or not I want it to download and install Windows and Norton updates, and sacrifices performance by running these unwanted and untimely updates invisibly in the background).

Out of jealousy, I have begun to spy on my computer -- monitoring those processes in the Task Manager that run in the background and use up the majority of my processor and memory resources.

I have tried reasoning with my computer. I have offered retreats and day spas in the form of registry optimizations, and defragmentations. I have trimmed the fat and improved its diet by removal of extraneous data and unused and unwanted programs. I have offered peace overtures and even suggested counseling by agreeing to the manufacturer's upgrade to internal service monitoring. But, ultimately, I have started to distance myself from my computer. More and more, I find myself simply using my iPhone to email, search the web, get directions, check the weather, and listen to music. My computer probably considers this a slap in the face, the iPhone being younger and sleeker, but I have needs, and the iPhone is quite frankly faster and has a LOT less baggage.

I fear that my computer and I may be approaching the end of our relationship. I'm pretty much just modeming it in at this point. As many of you who have checked my blog with any frequency over the past couple of months can attest, I'm just not online very much anymore, and to be honest, it is simply because I have experienced ever increasing lack of patience with my long-time companion. It just doesn't seem to have any fight left anymore, and for my own part, I don't have the patience anymore to wait for fifteen minutes for it to finally start up and have the program up and running that I need in order to blog (that fifteen minutes is about my whole window of patience for screen time when nothing is working at a reasonable speed).

To compound matters, many of you remember my desperate post about my work computer's attitude of indifference and apathy. I just don't have the strength to fight all day to get anything done, just to have the same problem at home.

Thus, I have resigned myself to ending it with my computer and I am saving up for a MacBook Pro.

The separation may take some time, we've been together pretty long, but I think we'll all be happier in the long run -- and then I can really get back to blogging regularly! It's time to move on with my life (keep telling yourself that, Garnabus, it will get easier with time...)

*sniff*

The Five Stages of Gluten-Loss

As most of you already know, Fuego has Celiac's disease... basically this means that her body treats gluten (found in wheat, barley, rye, and oats) like a threat and attacks it (and her intestines along with it), so she can't eat it, drink it, put it in her mouth, freebase it, or really even look at it funny. Thus our home has become a safe-haven for her gluten-free needs and my cooking skills have been put to a new test as I seek new ways to make all of our favorite things and learn what our new favorite things will be (such as polenta medallions with homemade cilantro pesto, fresh grated mozzarella, and sliced tomato -- mmm).

What this has meant for me is that, since Fuego and I generally eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner together everyday (yes, this is uncommon in today's world unless you're independently wealthy or retired... but a family-friendly employer - aka "God" - makes a HUGE difference ;o), I have been almost entirely gluten-free except for those blessed Sunday morning donuts with my church-school class and the blessed Sunday evening pizza with youth group. What I have discovered has shocked me to my very core.

...

Since about a year into seminary (now about four years ago) I noticed that my usual easygoing nature and mellow disposition were turning into an inner struggle for peace while my stress levels and blood pressure increased steadily. I blamed it on the work load and having to stop my normal exercise routine -- which doubtless contributed significantly.

I found temporary relief in Lenten disciplines of evaluating stressors and letting them go before they got to me, but these practices -- try though I might -- didn't solve the long-term problem that I was becoming someone I didn't want to be.

By the time Emjay came home to us, Fuego and I had pretty much just accepted that the stresses of constant over-scheduling and heavy workload were something that I could no longer simply absorb without feeling the common effects of stress and tension that most normal people feel under those circumstances, and that I needed to slow down (a bitter pill to swallow, mind you). Still we found that I was frequently grumpy without necessarily any explanation.

About two weeks ago we suddenly realized, when a bout of grumpiness set in, that I hadn't been grumpy in about two months. Although I had been under inordinate amounts of stress at work with St. ECWIW's haunted house, annual run to Disneyland, clergy retreat, and diocesan convention all occupying the space of a single month during which I still had my normal work to do, sermons to write, etc. -- I think this was around the time of my last post about having more to do than time to do it -- I still had been pleasant, relatively unstressed, noticeably NOT grumpy, and had been feeling more like myself than I had in years!

What had changed about two weeks ago? Well... it was our vestry meeting at church that day -- which meant that I had donuts for breakfast, a healthy vegetarian wrap for lunch, and pizza for dinner. Fuego was quick to point out: "Three meals of wheat."

I quickly dismissed the possibility that my elevated base stress levels, irritability, and impatience could possibly be caused by my favorite food in the world (no, not JUST donuts and pizza... but ALL bread, pastry, and bread-related foods!!). But the sinister seed of doubt had been sown, so I took note over the next week.

Here's the shocking part.

On the days when I ate products containing gluten I generally felt tired, bloated, and gassy. I felt irritable, I felt easily stressed out, I was less able to tolerate the normal neediness of my daughter, I felt more controlling and anal, and I quickly felt winded on my morning jog with Fuego.

So I decided to put this notion to rest. I ate whatever I wanted for the whole of Thanksgiving week. I had a bear claw and a chocolate croissant with my morning coffee on Monday, drank beer, ate stuffing, had pizza and donuts, and made an appointment on Wednesday to have a blood test done to see if there was anything to this field-research.

By Friday, I felt tired, my joints ached, I felt irritable, stressed out, grumpy, controlling, anal, gassy, I had diarrhea, I felt nauseous, my head felt cloudy, I felt drunk at the end of a meal without any alcohol, and I skipped my morning jog with Fuego. I basically felt like I had taken up smoking by consuming a pack of cigarettes and three cigars at one sitting -- about what I figure malaria must feel like, really ;o)

My doctor told me that gluten intolerances are fairly uncommon and that unless I was of Northern European ancestry, there was little chance that I would have either an intolerance or even less likely Celiacs disease, but that he would order the tests for me anyway.

As I come from a long line of Vikings, his words were not particularly comforting! Any further "Northern European" and I'd have to be offspring of a polar bear.

So... Here I sit. My doctor says that my test results were negative for Celiac's disease but that I do, in fact, have a gluten intolerance, which can eventually lead to Celiacs, (at least if I slip up I won't be physically damaging my intestines and increasing my risk of GI related cancers like Fuego). But regardless I don't get to eat my favorite foods anymore. I don't get to drink normal beer anymore. I don't get to eat movie-theater popcorn anymore... because someone thought it might be a fun idea to put gluten in the hydrogenated oil packet they use to pop it. And, unlike Fuego, I'm not aglow with the light of a million fairies knowing that I've discovered the missing link to my relatively few symptoms. Plus I don't even get the satisfaction of having a disease named after my condition, so no one is going to take me seriously when I tell them that I'm "gluten intolerant" (and here I always considered myself to be a tolerant person!). What do they care if I feel like shit for a few days; so long as there's no lasting damage, they're off the hook!

Thus we reach the five stages of GRIEF in my process...

1. Denial... Fuego is really the only one who has to give up gluten, I can still have my pizza and donuts every week at church and a beer with friends. After all, I don't have Celiacs!

2. Anger... Hmm... why do I feel so much better when I'm not eating gluten?? Why do I have to take bicarb just to fall asleep after having ONE LOUSY beer?? Damn you, cruel fate, why do you mock me!?

3. Bargaining... I bet it's not really true, I can get by eating just a few things that only have a little gluten in them -- like my favorite tortilla chips at our taqueria that were just fried in the same oil as the wheat tostada bowls... oop... nope, where's the potty?!

4. Depression (my current stage, mind you), where I discover and lament all the things that suck about this. I think the worst is the fact that drinking a single beer makes my head feel cloudy and drunk and then I have indigestion that keeps me up for the rest of the night. (Apparently when you cut out an allergen you become more sensitive to it... *awesome*)

5. Acceptance (I'm getting here, but it's a bit slow). Here is where Jane already is, accompanied by the elation of feeling 500% better than she has in over 25 years.

Don't get me wrong, I really am grateful to feel like myself again. It has literally been years since I have felt so mellow and unstressed, and I know this is going to do wonders for my blood pressure. Plus the joy I feel at being a parent is finally what I always thought it would be (unless I've been "glutened," in which case I begin to understand what used to make my dad rant and rave and shout -- I wonder if he has a gluten intolerance/Celiacs too??). The positives do by FAR outweigh the negatives.

One of the plusses is getting to experience what REAL brewing is like! I will be going to the local feed store to select a combination of grains (rice, millet, buckwheat, and sorghum), which I will soak for a few days until they germinate, at which point I will dry them and then roast them (roasting while the grains are still a bit damp produces a nutty flavor that I'm looking forward to experimenting with), at which point I can finally boil them to make my "mash," from which I will brew the beer (the process will add about two weeks to the normal two-week brewing process). The enzymes present in barley grains that help to convert the starch into usable sugars during the boiling process are less in the non-gluten containing grains, so I'll be using about twice as much ingredient (roughly 10-15 lbs of grains for a single batch). What this boils down to (sorry), is that I'm going to need a bigger pot, a roasting pan, a book on "all grain" brewing, another book on gluten-free brewing, and a bit more patience than previously needed. The end result will likely take a bit of time to perfect, but I'm really looking forward to taking the next step in my brewing mastery!

Some major life changes are present at the Garnabus and Fuego household this Christmas season. What I can say with complete honesty is that we're both feeling better, healthier, more energetic, and more like ourselves than we have in years -- and it has done wonders for our little family in more ways than I have time or decency to mention in a public forum ;o)