How To Save Paper At Home

I have one child who goes through paper like it grows on trees. Paper airplanes, paper villages, paper to scribble on, paper to rip up and shred in every last corner of the house. Paper.

We used to go through at least one ream a month. And at four dollars a ream, that was sorely eating into my Ghirardelli budget for the year. Not to mention wasting a whole bunch of paper.

One day, my boss came up to me, and said Joe are ya busy I said no he said push the button with your left hand! Oops. Wrong day. On a different day, hubs brought home a box of unused letterhead from the office, all headed to the recycling bin because of a misprint. Cha-ching. We now use that paper for nearly every single use of paper around the house. We stock this paper in the printer and keep some strewn around the house for the kids. I now use fewer than ten sheets of clean paper a month. Quite a difference.

Besides the office, where are some other good sources of scrap paper?

More tips over at We Are That Family!

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Got My Poetry Panties In A Wad

It's National Poetry Month. You know how I know that? Because every single last cotton-pickin' thing on my library's "MUST READ" shelf is currently a poetry book. Big clue.

I'm no poetry buff. My right-brained hubs tells me that reading a poem should evoke a feeling. A feeling other than boredom, I presume.

I start each school year with high hopes, plodding through Poe, butchering Blake, sleeping through Shakespeare. And then spring time comes around and every poem feels like I'M BEING EATEN BY A BOA CONSTRICTOR, AND I DON'T LIKE IT ONE BIT. So, I feel a bit strangled, in other words.

I was glad to see that sitting beside the other cobweb-ridden books was one with Tighty Whitey in the title. I mean, how can that not be a book for all time?

"The Tighty Whitey Spider" 

(to the tune of "The Itsy Bitsy Spider")

The tighty whitey spider went down the water slide.

Got a water wedgie halfway down the ride.

Jumped up and screamed and ran around in pain.

Now the tighty whitey spider will not do that again.

What do I think of a poem about underwear? This is it, and nothing more.

(Not a paid review. I'm merely sharing some nonsense.)


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Cheddar-Topped English Muffin Bread

When I flip past this recipe, my muffin top itself jiggles for joy. And because y'all know the muffin top's connected to the hip fat, and the hip fat's connected to the thigh flab--soon enough every single cell in my body is cheering for carbs.

Hi, my name is Lisa, and I'm a Bread-a-holic.

It's true, and I'm sharing this easy, no-knead recipe so that your cellulite will shout out a cheer or two too. 

The batch makes two loaves. One for dinner, and one for bedtime snack broiling or toasting the next day. What. You don't eat a loaf of bread in one day? Okay then. I'll pray for you.

Let your taste buds rejoice in this yeasty and cheesy yumminess.

Cheddar-Topped English Muffin Bread

2 tablespoons cornmeal
5 cups all-purpose flour
2 tablespoons (or packages) yeast
1 tablespoon sugar
2 teaspoons salt
1/4 teaspoon baking soda
2 cups warm low-fat milk (120° to 130°)
1/2 cup warm water (120° to 130°)
1/2 cup shredded cheddar cheese

Coat two 8-in. x 4-in. loaf pans with cooking spray; sprinkle with cornmeal and set aside. In a large bowl, combine 3 cups flour, yeast, sugar, salt and baking soda. Add milk and water; beat until smooth. Stir in remaining flour (dough will be sticky). Transfer to prepared pans. Cover and let rise in a warm place for 30 minutes. Sprinkle with cheese. Bake at 400° for 25-30 minutes or until golden brown. Remove from pans and cool on wire racks. Yield: 2 loaves (12 slices each).

More recipes over at Ann's Food on Fridays!

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Ed Emberley's Picture Pie

I operate from what you would call, the Left Side of the Brain. As a matter of fact, if you opened up the hood and took a peek, you would indeed find two left sides in my skull. There is no right brain; just two lefts.

By all this I mean to say--I will rationalize your details til the logical and proverbial cows come home, but please, please do not ask me to "be artistic."

*shiver*

Oh, I adore an artsy-fartsy person, don't get me wrong. I married one, for goodness sakes. And I'm thankful that Mr. Right Brain shares his "creating from scratch" love with the kids, as often as time and art supplies allow.

However. I happen to bear the title of "Head Schoolmistress" around here, which means that when "art" is on the schedule, we follow directions. From a book. Thus making every Right Brain in the universe shed one, gargantuan tear.

But it can't be helped. I am who I am.

One of my latest finds has been Ed Emberley's Picture Pie, an art book for Left Brains like me. The book shows how a paper circle can be cut into the different pieces of a pie (1/2, 1/4, 1/8) and then made into animals, or things equally as cute as animals.

Like this:

And here's a tip. If you happen to have a circle cutter in your scrapbooking bag, this is a great way to put it to use.

I recently made my kids do these birdies on a wire for a note I sent in the mail (using colored paper, of course, I am not that lame):

Certain pages in the book show step-by-step instructions, which is great for the younger crowd. Or for the older crowd of analysts and math geeks who never lose track of their keys. Or mistakenly put the dental floss back with the pistachios.

Ah, but where was I. Oh. Good ol' Ed. He also has a similar book called Picture Pie 2, which uses shapes from a square, as well as the perfectly round circle and all its mathematical bliss.

I am not getting reimbursed for this review, but I am getting brownie points for saying kind words about the hubs. Not that I keep track of those points on a spreadsheet or anything. They're purely hypothetical. 

What art books for dummies would you recommend?

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Eco-Friendly Drain Cleaner

I grew up in the 80s, where leg warmers and Aqua Net were all the rage. My big head of hair didn't just impress the boys (I kid!), it made a lasting impression on my Dad as well. I have fond memories of him opening up the walls in our house to rid the poor pipes of the HAIR.

Long, thick, frizzy kind of hair. All in the name of being trendy, Dad.

I'm back to having long hair again, much to my husband's unclogging delight. It's not uncommon for us to pour money down the drain via El Drano, and its ominous gray-black bottle. But lately I've been thinking about the Water System, realizing that What Goes In, Must Come Out.

I'm not exactly sure where all those caustic chemicals go once they're down the drain, or how (if!) they're removed. I plan to teach that to my kids, you know, once I've figured it out for myself.

I like to give the ol' baking soda and vinegar a try, using instructions I found in Vinegar: A Guide to the Many Types and Their Uses Around the Home:

Put 2/3 cup baking soda followed by 1 scant cup vinegar down the drain and leave it for ten minutes. This blend creates a gaseous mixture of carbon dioxide and sodium acetate that will shift anything causing the blockage. Flush clean water through the pipe and your drain should be clear again.

Voila! It works--especially when it's done on a more regular basis.
 

For more spring-cleaning tips, head over to Works For Me Wednesday.

Or you can check out more tips from my own brain matter, as wobbly and weird as it is.

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Lewis And Clark National Historic Trail: Cape Disappointment

It's hard to hear of a place called "Cape Disappointment" without immediately wanting to go there. After all, I tend to see life's cup not only as half full, but as half full of rotten milk that's been spilled on the floor. So you see? Cape Disappointment sounds like a downright cheery kind of a place.

It wasn't given the melancholy title by my boyfriends buddies Merry and Willy, though. They simply hiked there on their quest to find the "emence ocian.*"

In actuality, it was Captain John Meares whoda heck is he shutsky up wih dah history! who named the cape. He was sailing up the Pacific in search of the Columbia River, and floated right past it.

"Now doggone it! Where is that river! I see this blasted hunk of land, but no! stupid! river! I feel a sense of, oh what's an appropriately miserable word that will live on through the generations? Oh, yes!"

"DISAPPOINTMENT!!"

HENCE THE NAME.

(Make sure if you reference that quote, you provide a link to my rather demented head.)

Cape Disappointment sits on the Washington side of the Columbia River, right where the river meets the sea. You wanna see a map? I kinda thought so.

You can still hike to the same lookout that Lewis and Clark would have made it to, back in 1805. I'm pretty sure it was Meticulous Meriwether who helped pave a trail just for us.

And who placed some helpful, historical signs.

After the explorers had traveled for eighteen months, do you think they were disappointed at the cape? Allow me to quote from Clark's journal:

"Great joy in camp we are in view of the Ocian, this great Pacific Octean which we been so long anxious to See. And the roreing or noise made by the waves brakeing on the rockey Shores may be heard distictly."  [11.7.1805]

"Men appear much Satisfied with their trip beholding with estonishment the high waves dashing against the rocks and this emence ocian.*"  [11.18.1805]

Disappointed? HECK NO! They had reached the Ocian! Or the Octean! Or the place where spelling teachers go to die!

I kinda liked standing at the edge of the continent myself.

While we hiked up the cape, Hubs prepped the kids for a complete and utter disappointment. Never has a vacation destination goal been so easily met!

Okay, so their expressions might have been fabricated.

But I'll tell you what is not fake! Nickels! These lovely five-centers were made in 2005, 200 years after Lewis and Clark reached the edge, the very edge! of the continent. The back of the coin shows the view from Cape Disappointment. See?

"Ocean in view! O! The Joy!"

Apparently the US Mint prefers the more standard spelling of "ocean." Which is not disappointing, and honestly, neither was the cape.

Next on the trail: Fort Clatsop.


*A note on the misspellings. Clark himself was known to be a very creative speller. I've also read that the standardization of word spellings wasn't as well-known back in the day.

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Books I'm Hogging From The Library: The April 2, 2011 Edition

Continuing on the topic of my geezerhood, I still listen to CDs. You remember those, right? They're flat and round, mysteriously loaded with ten or so tunes, half of which you probably don't like?

Those.

I hog CDs from the library, too. Here's what's playing in my van or in my kitchen this week:

Les Miserables 10th Anniversary Concert:  Ever since public TV started playing the anniversary concert, I've been in a Miserables mood. I am determined to listen to the soundtrack until I spout nothing but Les Mis lyrics. "I'm going shopping on my own! Cuz I'm the master of the house! Keeper of the zoo!" Stuff like that.

Singin' American Legends:  Without fail, music class was my fave-o-rite subject throughout school. And for whatever reason, the song "Froggy Went a Courtin'" was one of those songs that made my pigtails curl with glee. Uh-huh! Uh-huh! This collection also contains The Catchiest Tune Known To Man, "Dog Named Blue," as well as my Dad's signature song, "Old Dan Tucker." See? Legends.

Beethoven Lives Upstairs:  Included in the Classical Kids series, this CD is part dramatic reading, part music. Or kinda both put together. It's unique in that the story being told represents true events from Beethoven's life, and the music is all excerpts from his works. It's one of those CDs that can be listened to again and again, while hearing something new each time.

You've Got Mail:  I reserved this soundtrack for the sole purpose of listening to it on our trip to the coast. I tell you what--this is perhaps one of the happiest soundtracks I've had a chance to meet. It's guaranteed to make you dance and snap and sing in the driver's seat, and guaranteed to embarrass yourself while doing so. Ask me how I know. "She rocks in the treetop...all day long..."

The Best of Schoolhouse Rock:  I've made my kids memorize the Preamble to the Constitution, mostly to exercise their brains. Of course the boys think they're so funny when they say, "Secure the blessings of liberty--to ourselves and our posterior." Oh, hardy har har, and just for punishment, I make them listen to the Schoolhouse Rock folks sing about We The People. Neener neener. However, the song that I remember most from my Saturday morning TV addiction is "I'm Just a Bill." Now there's some good music.

I realize this set of CDs is so telling of who I am--it's a little bit Broadway, a little bit school, and a little bit outdated pop culture. Huh. What's in your player this week?

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