It's Easy Being Green

I’ve seen the commercials a million times over the course of my 30 years on this planet.  A parent wakes up in the middle of the night to a coughing, sniffling, horribly sounding baby who is very sick.  It’s not until it is actually your child playing that part that you know how it feels.

That was our night last night.  Cuddled in bed, Homestead Hottie and I were three hours deep into our Dexter marathon.  We’ve all been battling what we dub an upper respiratory “disease” since the day after Christmas.  Tracking back, we think the disease made its way into our normally sickness free house via some items we picked up on Freecycle.  It was a dirty Evansville apartment complex and an undoubtedly dirty family that granted us this thoughtful gift.  We normally disinfect every such item like this before it comes inside but we let our guard down this time and we’ve paid for it.

With the clock sneaking toward the 12:30am mark and our eyelids finally beginning to grow heavy, we heard our Darling Daughter wake up and immediately get very upset; a night terror we thought.  We let her go for a few minutes because we’ve learned not to rush in on the process of self-soothing.  The more upset she got though the more we knew something was wrong.  Clomping down the stairs we both froze in sheer horror at the sound of our daughter barking like a seal, clearly struggling to control her breathing and draw in a deep breath.

Rushing into her room and throwing on a light we could see she was distressed.  Tears the size of water buckets streamed down her face and our poor daughter was shaking like a leaf.  Snatching her into my arms while Talina started taking her forehead temperature, it was almost as if little Everly couldn’t control herself.  I patted her back firmly and this seemed to help clear her lungs and her mind of the panic she awoke too.  With no fever, Talina slid Everly into the rocking chair to breastfeed while I worked up another dose of her natural cough and mucus medicine.  Darling Daughter was calming but her Mommy and Daddy were thinking the worst.

Everly hasn’t been immunized yet.  We believe in completing a delayed schedule of the necessary vaccinations, giving her body and brain more time to develop to proper levels before subjecting her to the dangerous toxins, chemicals and diseases used to produce immunizations.  It’s not something most people understand or support but we’ve done our research, consulted with family physicians and talked at length about it with our midwife.  We have to be super vigilant and super protective when it comes to our Darling Daughter getting sick, this the first time in her 18 months of life that she’s been ill.

As our panic took a firm grip on us, we both agreed it was time for a late night visit to the Emergency Room.  The dark drive down empty, traffic-less streets was nerve racking, thinking about all the things that could be wrong.  I was also secretly hoping the visit would squeeze us in before any New Years Eve madness began to overrun local trauma rooms.

Of course, by the time we arrived at the door to St. Mary’s Emergency Room, Miss Everly was acting as if almost nothing had happened and her breathing had greatly improved.  The giant steaming hulk of a pressure washer machine standing firm at the front door, hissing loudly and belching thick acrid steam cleaner caused her to freak a bit, burying her head in our chests.  Once inside and away from the steam monster, she was clearly interested in the friendly trauma nurse poking, prodding and temperature taking.  Hot on our heels headed into a trauma room, Dr. Sorentino was ready to begin his work before we’d even hit the bed.

Sorentino was cool and calm with a friendly disposition that I wish a majority of doctors could replicate.  He asked the right questions as if he already knew what the end result was going to be and didn’t question or scorn our philosophies and thoughts on vaccinating our child.  That is also unusual within the medical community, even at St. Mary’s Medical Center where we have dealt with an OB/GYN that loves to tell you how it is and why you’re a horrible person for thinking the way you do or questioning her motivations.

Everly was very interested in all the excitement of her ER visit but just couldn't seem to get comfortable on those horrible beds.

Dr. Sorentino laid out his plan of action for us quickly and even asked us what we thought about his thinking, including us in the decision making process of our child’s care.  A couple chest x-rays and tests later, the good doc determined our Darling Daughter had a bout of croup.  Sorentino kept joking that Everly certainly wasn’t acting sick and was one of the most animated sick children he had ever seen.  She was bouncing on the bed, greeting nurses and doctors as they came and went and even mimicking the sounds of the woman puking her guts out in the next trauma room over from us.  What a delightful night!

Since she was doing so well, Dr. Sorentino determined meds were not necessary nor was an injection of steroids before our trip back home.  Everly was requesting night-nights by this point and so we set out just under an hour after arriving to land back in our comfy beds.  The staff at St. Mary’s Medical Center were so quick and efficient we could hardly believe it.  From our admitting nurses at the front door to Dr. Sorentino, we couldn’t have found a nicer, more caring and non-judgmental medical team.  We now know the next time croup crops up, to just step out into the cold air or throw open the freezer door to help calm the breathing down and reduce the swelling of the windpipe.

Everly cuddling with her Momma while waiting to go home for night-nights

Now to some much needed rest as we head into the new year here at the half-acre homestead, with much thoughts on peace and prosperity headed into 2011.  This has been a banner year and one I can’t wait to finally see in the rear-view mirror.

Popularity: 10% [?]

Cruising the backroads of western Kentucky and making deliveries these past couple of days after Christmas, I’ve already seen some scattered Christmas trees thrown into the drainage ditches.  Some have been carelessly tossed on the front porch as if waiting for a magic ride to the dump or perhaps waiting for a hitch to the next rural ditch somewhere.  While some could argue this is redneck composting at its finest, this is not the preferred way to recycling your evergreen tree.

Here at the half-acre homestead, we usually keep our tree up until January 2nd, when we are finally all but drained of festive holiday feelings and yearn for the return of our living room.  Well, maybe the return of one, little used corner of the living room but the though is the same nonetheless.  In years where we’ve lived in a house with a fireplace, the Yule Log will get stripped of its branches and be left to dry for burning next year.  The same can be held true for the outdoor firepit.  True the romance isn’t quite the same but the novelty can ring out for all your neighbors to see.  I know what’s coming next because it is by far a Midwestern specialty.  No, I don’t think burn barrels or burn piles qualify for the same appropriate disposal of Ihren Weihnachtsbaum.  For all of you non-Germans in this pro-German area, that’s “your Christmas tree” in deutscher Sprache.

If you don’t have a neighbor handy with a chipper or shredder you can borrow, simply take advantage of one of two drop-off locations on either side of the Ohio.  In Evansville, you can drop your tree off at Newman Park near where the nature trails begins.  The city parks department says there are signs already posted and even some trees which have already been dropped off.  The Christmas trees will be chipped and mulched for use in the local parks.  The last day for drop-off is January 7th.  In Henderson, you can drop off your trees at the Newman Recreational Complex on Sand Lane through January 8th.  Don’t forget to remove as much tinsel and ornaments as possible because those items don’t beautify the forest floor or local tree trunks anymore than that Styrofoam thirst-quencher cup tossed out the window.  Most of all, please don’t ditch your tree in a drainage ditch, farm field or other illegal dump site.

Do you know of another Tri-State Christmas tree recycling drop-off point?  Leave a comment and share with our other readers so the word can spread!  Happy mulching!

Popularity: 14% [?]

I’m no longer a pretty face on the local news but I’m also not just a number anymore.  You know what?  It feels damn good!  I think both my Homestead Hottie and everyone else who intimately know me can vouch for how much happier I’ve been and how much my mood has improved since getting fired without cause from the hell hole that was ruining my life.  Sure it was a shock to the system at first, mainly due to how baseless and uncaring the separation was conducted.  Now that I’m gone, I feel like you do once the X-ray tech lifts that lead vest off of your shoulders.

Clearly there hasn’t been much activity around here since I’ve jumped back into the workforce two weeks ago.  I took a temp job for the holidays with FedEx and am now happily piloting my own truck around the Tri-State, filled to the brim with packages.  I deliver happiness on a daily basis which is a vast change from delivering death, mayhem and any another downright depressing happening to my evening audience.  Who doesn’t like to receive a package?  Just today,  a happy housewife bounded out the door of her Kentucky home to greet my truck.  She was anxiously awaiting a brand new laptop computer to replace her older, broken one.  Aside from the occasional curmudgeon wondering why I’ve pulled into his driveway, I’m greeted several times a day by smiles.  It’s a pleasant change compared to being chased from scenes by friends and family members out to get the media for intruding on their tragedy.

For anyone who thinks working in television news involves glitz and glamor, let me tell you your downright wrong.  Any day that involves wading waist deep in some other person’s steaming pile of metaphoric shit does not scream glitzy or glamorous.  People downright hate you as a reporter or an anchor and immediately pin the root of all their problems on you.  Scores of people within the business suffer their own depression, anxiety and a host of other personal problems often resorting to some pill popping just to get them through the day.  Anymore, it seems too many news organizations are like a school of Amazonian piranhas.  They’re sniffing out blood even if there isn’t a drop to be found but once one is created, the frenzied news nibbling begins until there is nothing left.

That mentality along with the cheapening of local news is pushing the practice of news gathering into a whole new realm.  News organizations want less people, more cheaply to do more than anyone could ever expect.  The drive to get more and more so called content churned out on a daily basis is killing the local news beast from within because there is only so much food for fodder to go around on a daily basis.  Plus, once viewers are over saturated with choices, I think they begin to shut down.  Johnny-5 no longer needs “more input” and yes, I can’t tell you how long I’ve been waiting to make a Short Circuit reference in a blog post.

Some in the news business believe viewers want to be over-saturated with stories but I beg to differ. Johnny-5 does not "need more input"!

This career change, if only temporary, has reminded me that I’m not just a number but an actual person.  That’s because the management I’m working under now treats their employees like they are actual people.  There is the occasional treat, like being greeted by a bag full of Egg McMuffins on a dark, cold and dreary early morning and even simple corporate swag like a ski cap.  Managers greet you with a smile in the morning, a pat on the back and even lend their support to how they can help you get your job done.  They even tell you when you’ve done a good job.  It’s an encouraging environment and a far cry from what I’ve recently come from.  As basic as it sounds, I feel like it’s a concept that has been so trampled by corporate America in our recent economic depression.

Managers who have personal skills akin to the pimple-laden teenager whiling away his time in the basement playing Dungeons and Dragons all day need no longer to apply.  Quit spending your days locked away in your office, staring blankly at who knows what on your computer screen (these days it seems they may be watching my blog on their computer screens since I can see members of my old management team are trolling my site on an almost daily basis).  Don’t make it a point to only go to your employees when you want to whip them for doing something bad.  You don’t know the first thing about what it’s like to be a human being so perhaps it’s too much to ask of you to treat everyone else like one.  Just remember dictators don’t earn respect, they just scare people to death and no employee should have to put themselves through that hell on a daily basis.

Popularity: 6% [?]

Popularity: 5% [?]

Saturday around the half-acre homestead turned out to be quite busy and a fun one to boot!  Today was pickup day for our monthly take of our grass-fed meat CSA run by Stonewall Farm.  That meant a trip to one of our favorite local haunts, Penny Lane Coffehouse located in Evansville’s historic district.  We picked up our 20lbs. of our amazingly delish frozen, grass-fed, natural meat and our poultry share consisting of 2 frozen chickens and 4 dozen eggs.  The Cannons always fix us up nicely when it comes to our month’s worth of meat products and this month’s haul is no exception.

We of course can’t head to Penny Lane’s Locals Only Market without stepping inside to pickup a cup of joe.  I opted for a cap today since the froth wand on my espresso machine is broken.  Homestead Hottie stepped out of the box and opted to fulfill her smoothie craving, picking up a “Dirty Hippie”.  The concoction of frozen peaches, soy milk and sunflower seeds was pretty awesome and healthy too.

Our Darling Daughter loves to look over the menu board at Penny Lane Coffehouse during Saturday's Locals Only Market

From Penny Lane we headed off to the YART.  What’s a YART you ask?  It’s like a yard sale for artists to interface with the art-loving public and it’s held in someone’s front yard.  A couple of friends of ours were participating so we decided to scope it out.  At the Evansville YART Sale, nothing is over $30 and we found quite a bargain.  We bought a beautiful painting by local artist Jan Frye to hang in my Darling Daughter’s room and I found a few more I want to buy later, perhaps when I’m gainfully employed again.

We picked up one of Jan Frye's great paintings for our Darling Daughter's room and it was just $25

Our beautiful Fall day was rounded out by going to the first birthday party for the two twin boys who live next door to us.  We’ve dubbed them Darling Daughter’s boyfriends and they like to trade presents back and forth but watch out boys, I do guard my front door with a shotgun (is it too early to be overprotective?).  We enjoyed sharing in the joy, laughter and tears of their first full year on Mother Earth.

Now to slip into my hoodie and zip myself into a low key, relaxing night with my Homestead Hottie…aaahh.

Popularity: 3% [?]

It’s been a tough couple of weeks around the half-acre homestead, especially after getting word of the end of my employment.  Homestead Hottie and I have been itching to get our Darling Daughter out of the house and to hit the road to parts unknown for awhile now and the current situation has only made that situation worse.  This weekend we were supposed to be relaxing on the beach of the Gulf Coast but the job loss meant socking vacation money away and staying home instead.

Today we decided to hit the highway and take a day trip to Marengo Cave, just on the east flank of the Hoosier National Forest and almost to Louisville, Kentucky.  We weren’t sure if our 14 month old Darling Daughter would be able to make it through a cave tour but decided to go for the gold and opted for the longest tour: the Dripstone Trail.  She did great and was visibly amazed by what she was seeing underground.  The change of scenery kept her quiet for the first 45 minutes of the 70 minute tour, even though our guide’s voice was akin to nails on a chalkboard echoing throughout the cavernous darkness.  Toward the end she got fussy but started enjoying herself again when we got to a point in the cave where you could walk on the floor.  It was the perfect opportunity for her to stretch her little legs and she took it!  We all enjoyed Marengo Cave and were glad there wasn’t a grand finale ending to the tour like the one we experienced at Meramec Caverns in Missouri.  That’s another story in itself.

Next on our agenda following the spelunking was to find a sit-down restaurant and get a good bite to eat.  I had heard good things about The Overlook Restaurant in Leavenworth, Indiana and decided to give it a try.  Perched on a bluff high above the Ohio River, The Overlook definitely can boast a million dollar view.  Forested hillsides roll their way down to the river’s edge, dotted with farms along the shoreline.  Pleasure boats and tugs pushing barges ply the waters down below giving you even more to look at.  The ground surrounding the restaurant are filled with bird houses, feeders and native flowering plants that were overrun with butterflies of every shape, size and color while we were there.

Stepping inside The Overlook I immediately noticed the decor.  Wood paneling and mirrored walls give the restaurant a dated vibe hearkening from the 1960’s or 70’s.  The dining room furniture looks to be from that time period as well.  Knobby and well beaten wooden tables and chairs make the place look like a cheap fish and chips joint.  Vinyl seat covers are not only olive green but many are also tattered and torn.  Motel quality water color paintings (also for sale) adorn some of the interior walls where mirrored paneling isn’t currently hanging.

The menu isn’t extensive and nothing wowed me enough to leave me knowing, without a doubt, what I was going to eat.  I had paired it down to two possibilities:  Hot Brown Sandwich and the Fried Chicken dinner.  Our waitress informed me that they were well known for their fried chicken so I decided to give it a shot.  If you claim it’s your specialty then I’m going to want to put it to the ultimate test.  Our Darling Daughter enjoyed the Mac ‘n Cheese off the kids menu just fine.  Homestead Hottie ordered the club sandwich, stacked a mile high with meat and all the usual accompaniments.

There really wasn’t anything notable about the presentation.  On first glance I thought the two pieces of white meat chicken, which I paid $1 more to have, were extremely small considering the nearly $11 price for the fried chicken plate.  I chose green beans and mashed potatoes as my side dishes.  The potatoes looked white and fluffy, adorned with the requisite white gravy.  The green beans looked delicious with bits of onion and bacon sprinkled throughout.  Both sides were good choices but the chicken left me disappointed.  The fried skin was golden brown and looked enticing but when it hit my tongue, there was little if no flavor to tantalize my taste buds.  I must have dumped half the shaker of salt and pepper over the top just to produce some sort of flavor boost.  The interior of the chicken looked juicy but proved tough and dry inside.  Only a dredging through the mashed potatoes and gravy could cover up the sahara-like meat inside.

Homestead Hottie opted for the traditional club sandwich, sliced into quarters and stacked high on toasted bread.  She liked the club but noted it was certainly nothing special.  Our Darling Daughter enjoyed her plate of mac ‘n cheese and made quite the mess digging in.  All in all our tummies were filled and happy enough to keep us satisfied and awake for the hour plus drive back to the half-acre homestead.  The view at The Overlook is definitely something to go back for.  The food, especially their “special fried chicken”, is not.

Popularity: 5% [?]