Crazy Cat Lady

I have always loved animals: cats, dogs, birds, fish, etc. This particular story all began when I received a Christmas card from my husband's "Granny" about ten years ago, addressed to "The Cat Lady." It took me by surprise considering I only had one cat at the time.

Since then, I have received a variety of cat-themed gifts: cat mugs, cat drink coasters, cat t-shirts, cat figurines, cat books, plush cats. All these presents were from various people in my life, but all pointed to a conclusion that I was not so convinced I agreed with - that I'm crazy about cats. And I was obviously not aware of the cat-loving vibe I was apparently emitting. I mean, sure, I love my cat, Gracie. She is sweet and, up until a few weeks ago, was fairly low maintenance and didn't cost me much in the way of vet bills. Gracie is a great pet, but it's not like I'll ever commission a portrait of her and hang it over my mantle, or bring her to a professional taxidermist once she's passed on in order to preserve her in some kind of life-like playful manner, lying on her back playing with a ball of yarn next to my living room sofa, or something...that's all just a little too creepy.

However, for some reason or another, people just assume I have this great affinity for cats. Just think, me, the Crazy Cat Lady, a moniker I've been running from for the last decade. Really...when I picture a "Crazy Cat Lady"....the image that comes to mind is not one of a fairly attractive, fit, thirty-year-old with a family. It's more like a lonely, old, senile woman with a yard full of empty aluminum cans and a house full of cat feces. (I apologize if I've offended any of my readers.)

About a month ago, I noticed a mother cat and two kittens scavenging through one of our trash bins on our driveway. Thinking, "wow, this is a great opportunity to get rid of all that organic canned cat food I over-zealously bought in bulk and to which my cat promptly turned her nose up at" (not exactly thinking the whole situation through very well), I broke open a few cans and placed them on my front walk. To be honest, this is not exactly the first time a litter of cats have found themselves begging for food in my front yard. It's happened a few other times...I don't know why it's always me and not my neighbors...it's like my house has some kind of stray cat magnet or something.

Jump ahead to the present and add a few more kittens, turns out there were four, and they are all still here, snuggled up on this cold late autumn night beneath the holly tree in our front flower bed. In the background you can catch a glimpse of the light from our front window reflecting off the many empty aluminum cat food cans from which the distinct aroma of rotting tuna and mackerel feast emanates. That, together with the plastic water dishes, cardboard box with an old flannel blanket and a scattering of little foil balls, all begin to paint a scary picture of that very image I've been trying to avoid. Am I really turning into the Crazy Cat Lady? I am neither old, nor lonely, nor senile (except I do catch myself talking to these little critters as if I half expect them to answer me, "why, yes, we would like it if you brought us some more tuna and mackerel feast, please. And, could we trouble you for some more fresh water?") You betcha, coming right up!

How did I end up like this? For God's sake, I practically have a feral cat colony at my front doorstep...actually, scratch "practically," I do have a feral cat colony at my front doorstep! It's like this transformation was inevitable...reminiscent of a Marvel Comic super heroine with a fear of embracing her true self! Except, I'm Crazy Cat Lady, bringing justice and sustenance to the malnourished of the feline kind! I wear a frumpy sweatsuit, instead of a skin-tight, leather bodysuit. And, instead of ripping open my blouse to reveal a "S" emblem on my superhero uniform, I just lift up my sweatpants to reveal the embroidered cat face stitched to the ankle of my thick woolen socks (another gift, I might add.)

Luckily for me, my stint as the Crazy Cat Lady may soon be drawing to a close. I say "luckily" because these cats are beginning to eat me out of house and home. Thank God for a few kind handouts from my neighbors, yet these cats have already polished off the rest of our Thanksgiving turkey, some Boars Head lunch meat I tried to justify was already passed its prime (it was only four days old), and some leftover ground pork I found in my freezer, defrosted, and fried-up in some olive oil in a skillet. I refuse to tap into my cat's food stash, because it feels a little too much like dipping into my daughter's piggy bank.

A true "Cat Lady" is supposed to be coming to my house to trap the kittens and bring them to my vet to get cleaned up, immunized, and put up for adoption. How did I finally find this woman, you ask? Why I just projected my industrial-sized spotlight affixed with a cat emblem toward the sky, and my phone rang within two minutes. Who knew, right? Kidding aside, the kittens will be off to better lives soon. And me, I'll be at it again trying to shake off this unwanted identity, of which I've now made it even more impossible to rid myself.

Soup and a Sandwich

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving celebration yesterday. Surprisingly, yesterday's preparation and dinner went off without a hitch at the Fox household. However, we are now faced with that same yearly dilemma of what to do with all the leftovers. And, if you are like me, you may have a whole package of carrots leftover (because you only needed one carrot for the gravy and they just don't sell one carrot at the grocey store) staring back at you from the crisper drawer begging not to be peeled and sliced and added as just another member of a crudite platter for munching on during the college football games tomorrow. And you may also have a ton of cranberry sauce left because you were a bit overzealous in thinking that the rest of your family might eat cranberry sauce this year (even though they hadn't wanted to eat it for the past 30-something Thanksgivings) because you made it with 1 part water to 8 parts sugar. So here is what I'm making with the leftovers: My Creamy Carrot Soup and Turkey and Cranberry Cornbread Panini

Creamy Carrot Soup (yields 6 servings)

Ingredients
1/2 cup chopped onion
1/8 cup butter, cubed
2 1/4 cups sliced carrots
1 large potato, peeled and cubed
2 (14.5 oz) cans chicken broth
pinch freshly grated nutmeg
1 tsp ground ginger
1 cup heavy whipping cream
1 tbsp fresh rosemary, chopped
1/2 tsp kosher salt, plus more to taste
1/8 tsp freshly cracked pepper, plus more to taste

Directions
In a medium stock pot, saute onion in butter until translucent. Add carrots, potato, 1 can of broth, nutmeg and ginger. Bring to a boil. Cover, reduce heat to medium and cook for approximately 30 minutes, or until vegetables are tender. Allow to cool for 15 minutes.
Transfer to a blender or food processor, cover, and blend until smooth and silky texture. If too thick, gradually add some additional chicken broth from the second can. Return all to the pan; stir in the cream, rosemary, salt and pepper. Cook over low heat until heated through. Add additional broth to bring soup to correct consistency. (You may not use all the extra broth.) Correct seasonings.

Turkey and Cranberry Panini (yields 2 servings)

Ingredients
1/3 cup of cranberry sauce (from whole berries, not the jelly stuff)
4 slices of corn bread (or whatever leftover bread you may have)
4 oz turkey breast, thinly sliced
3/4 cup corn kernels (optional)

Directions
Spread the cranberry sauce over two slices of bread. Scatter the corn kernels over it, then top with the turkey. Top with the remaining slices of bread and toast in a panini grill (or George Foreman, or in a skillet pressing down with another skillet, a sandwich press, or possibly a clean brick?) for approximately 2 to 3 minutes, or until bread is golden and crispy.

A Quick One

If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you," that would suffice.

~Meister Eckhart

My First Thanksgiving

Because of a series of unfortunate events that occurred over the last week and a half, it was decided a few days ago that my family would celebrate our Thanksgiving holiday here, at our house, instead of at my in-laws' place. While I've always wanted to be in charge of cooking the Thanksgiving feast, I never wanted to have to do it under the circumstances surrounding our last-minute change-in-plans. And, when I say "my family," I mean, my husband, my daughter, and me....just the three of us. You see, we've been, what you'd call "quarantined" from the rest of the Fox brood because of the rampant spread of illness throughout our home: My daughter, currently recovering from pneumonia and double ear-infections, my husband, currently suffering from a terrible cough, high fever, and God knows what else (he hasn't visited a doctor in 18 years), and my cat (oh, yes, my cat!), diagnosed with feline lower urinary tract disease just this morning. In the best interest of my father-in-law, who suffered a freak accident last week and is now without the use of his legs for the next three months, we all figured it was a good idea not to expose him to "the germs" (it's the last thing he needs right now!)

So, in preparation, I scoured my many cookbooks and my favorite websites for Thanksgiving recipes. Specifically, a turkey recipe and how to go about cooking one. You see, while I can go on and on about how much I love to cook, I've never once roasted a turkey! I promptly went to the Williams Sonoma website and downloaded their 15-page pamphlet, "A Well-Planned Thanksgiving," in search of some sort of guidance. Since there will only be two of us actually eating turkey (my daughter does not eat meat...except hotdogs...if you call that meat), I needed to know how big a turkey I actually had to buy. According to the pamphlet, I needed to allow approximately 1 1/4 lbs of turkey per person. I was left wondering "where does one find a 2 1/2 lb turkey?"

Once I had finalized my menu (last night), I was off to the grocery store (last night). I had been to the store briefly on Sunday to fetch more Motrin, Kleenex, kitty litter, and wine, for my daughter, my husband, my cat, and me, respectively, and much to my dismay, the lines (even the express lane) were ten persons deep, and the aisles were as clogged as I imagined my arteries were going to be after I eat a hearty helping of pecan pie and brandied cranberry and orange sauce over Breyer's Vanilla Ice Cream. Needless to say, I was fearing the worst for last night's trip. To my surprise, the store was fairly quiet, no lines, and as the automatic doors slid open, I exclaimed to the grocery-store worker walking in beside me, "wow, I should have waited until today to do my Thanksgiving shopping! It's so much less chaotic than it was on Sunday!"(Not wanting to look as if I was some sort of naive Thanksgiving newbie, who would wait until a day before Thanksgiving to buy all her ingredients, which is exactly what I was.) He chuckled and said, "Good thing you were here on Sunday, you'd be lucky if there were anything left on the shelves today!"

Great.


So I figured, I should start preparing some of the side dishes today, as well as begin to brine my turkey:

Lesson Number Two (Lesson Number One was to always do your Thanksgiving day shopping the weekend before, in case you missed that): always keep your eye on the boiling cranberry sauce! Trying to scrape the burnt sauce off a glass cooktop is a real bitch.

Lesson Number Three: Read the label before purchasing....as in, read the label on the turkey BREAST you just purchased (you idiot) before you buy it, mistaking it for a whole five pound turkey and not realizing it until you get home, take it out of the packaging, and start rummaging through its innards for the giblets you need for your Savory Herb Gravy, which are not there because you bought a turkey BREAST, you idiot!

Lesson Number Four: Don't Panic!

Lesson Number Five: Breathe.

However, I must say, my pecan pie tart looks spectacular and smells amazing! (I just have to keep my husband from snaking a piece of it in the middle of the night.) My green beans have been boiled and my turkey is currently brining away in apple cider in my refrigerator. I must admit I do not remember sitting down today, between all the cooking, shopping, bringing my cat back to the vet for her sub-Q fluid injections, and supervising my daughter's nebulizer treatments! You readers must feel pretty special right now knowing that the first time I sit down today is to write to you all!

Okay, then, that said, good night to you and have a very happy Thanksgiving!

My Favorite Quotes

For a fresh start, I have decided to include one of my favorite aspects of my "other blog" (Project Pennywise) as part of the Fox Chronicles - Quotes. So, when I have nothing interesting to talk about, I will just throw in one of my favorite quotes or maybe a recipe (and do I have some good ones for the upcoming winter season!) But for today, a favorite (and relevant) quote:

Democracy is…the conviction that there are extraordinary possibilities in ordinary people.
— Harry Emerson Fosdick

While we were disappointed in the amount of negativity in the 2008 election, we were also overwhelmed by the renewed sense of obligation and privilege the American voters felt while waiting (sometimes hours) in line to cast their ballot for new leaders of this country. They came to the polls in record numbers, knocked on neighbors' doors, and called supporters, each with the feeling that they, a single, ordinary person, could truly make a difference.

The Wack is Back

Hello, my friends! (Hey, it worked for McCain when attempting to excite his fan base...so here's hoping it riles up my reader base!) I know its been a while and, to be honest, I've had my hands full these past few months: my daughter turned "3", I've been starting up my new business, and we had a very historic, record-breaking presidential election! I have to admit that I did throw around the idea of turning this site into a political blog (wanna talk some Polly-tics, anyone?), but after careful consideration, I realized the shelf-life of such a thing is approximately 3 months and then what do you talk about? But I am truly excited about the outcome of the presidential race and at the prospect of a president being able to bring not only our country, but this world, together. Have you seen the worldwide reaction to an Obama presidency? From Canada to the Philippines, from Japan to Argentina, people are celebrating. They are celebrating the thought that once again the United States of America will be the world's beacon of hope, where absolutely anything is possible if you are willing to work for it. They are celebrating the prospect that the United States will again be a leader and promoter of successful foreign relations, environmental conscientiousness, and peace. It is certain, Barack Obama has the world's attention. And with this attention, will Obama, unlike no other man we have seen in decades, have the ability to implement the change he has been orating about for the last two years? He has a lot on his plate and a mound of high expectations to fulfill...we will have to wait and see.

Welcome to the Jungle

So a few nights ago, on my way home from a girls night out, I spotted two deer on the sidewalk near my house. I used to see deer in my neighborhood often a few years ago, when my family first moved here, but as construction increased, their sitings decreased, until eventually we just didn't see them anymore. So I was amazed to see two, after not seeing any for the past couple of years. The next morning, as I opened the matchstick blinds on a window that opens up to our screen porch, I saw a long black squiggly thing squirm its way across the patio toward the back wall. After seeing it a few more times throughout the day, I was finally able to conclude that it was a skink. Nasty little things that look like snakes, but have feet. I figured I'd let my husband deal with it when he got home. Off to the mall I went with my soon-to-be three-year-old daughter in tow. As we pulled into our driveway on our way home, I spotted a brown mound on the welcome mat at our front door. Thinking to myself that this was an odd shape for a UPS package, I approached slowly. As I got closer, I realized it was in fact a gopher tortoise. The little guy was already heading back down our front walk, he ventured down the side of our house toward the preserve in the back. With a little guidance from my daughter and I, to avoid our neighbors' dogs, he eventually made it into the woods.

Lets zoom ahead three hours....my daughter is down for her afternoon nap, and I'm done making a new workout playlist for my iPod. I head out to our garage (aka, home-gym), get distracted by the overgrown lantana and other hedges in our yard (currently with grass so high, it could easily be mistaken for the Amazon) so I start weeding and pruning and loping. As I'm discussing the recent animal sitings with my neighbor across the street, a yellow rat snake comes slithering down her driveway, across the street, into my yard, and up my oak tree....apparently, he had mistaken our yard for the Amazon as well. So, there he was, all three-feet of him, yellow with black stripes, dangling from some low branches. All the neighborhood kids came over to stare at the spectacle. Eventually, when we left it alone, he traveled back down the tree and out of sight.

The way this day was going, I was a little freaked out about what type of wild animal I was going to encounter next. Was I going to see an alligator cross my back yard? Or maybe the possom I saw eating the birdseed the other night would make another appearance. We already have atleast 20 different species of birds visiting our feeder (even ones that aren't normally found in northeast Florida.) At one point, with all the wild animal sitings in my yard in the last 24 hours, I couldn't help but think I'd been tapped by God to play Noah in the next Great Flood. The situation was beginning to feel a little too "Evan Almighty" to me. (Come to think of it, it has been raining a lot here lately....hmmm). The next thing I know, I'll be diving out of the way of a pack wildebeasts bursting through my front door. (Actually, that sounds a little too "Jumanji.") Or, perhaps, as I'm picnicing with my daughter a flock of exotic birds will land on my shoulders, as a break in the clouds above shines a focused ray of sunlight down upon me, to which I lift my head up and belt out a chord reminiscent of an aria performed by a famed opera diva. (Okay, maybe, not....that's a little too "Ace Ventura" after all.)

When I Grow Up

Recently, my daughter and I met up with a couple of other stay-at-home moms and their children at the local IMAX theatre to watch a movie about dolphins. Aside from watching the miracle that was my daughter sitting still for nearly 45 minutes with her mouth agape at the sight of dolphins the size of 2-story buildings, watching the actual documentary-style film wasn't so bad itself. It followed dolphin researchers and naturalists all over the globe, from the British West Indies to Patagonia, from Waikiki to the Abacos in the Bahamas. The film was filled with spectacular aerial video of the islands and crystal-clear water, set to the sounds of steel drum bands and reggae. Against this gorgeously tropical backdrop, the researchers would spend each day swimming with the dolphins, videoing them, recording their sounds and analyzing their body language. And when they weren't swimming with dolphins, they were cruising the glassy waters or compiling their day's work in a small white research building....on the sand....along the ocean.....under swaying coconut palms.


As I was watching, I couldn't help but wonder.....where along the course of my life did I veer off from being the wide-eyed child who dreamed of training dolphins when she grew up....to becoming a certified public accountant, just another bean-counter amid a sea of identical cubicles. Sure, I also wanted to be a choreographer (a la Paula Abdul), an architect, an actress, President of the United States, even. As I grew older, I also dreamed of being a lawyer or the vice president of mergers and acquisitions for a large firm in NYC (a la Richard Gere in Pretty Woman). And I guess it was right about at that point when the change happened. It was not so much the fun of it any more, as it was the money-making potential of it. It was that, and I think the constant reminder from others that those earlier aspirations were just childish daydreaming. And maybe most of it was. But for those people who really are dolphin researchers, architects, Presidents of the United States...its their childhood dream-turned-reality, because they made that for themselves. They ignored the nay-sayers and the self-proclaimed "realists."


A friend of mine once said that the more someone told her she couldn't do something, the more motivation she had to prove them wrong. Isn't that the truth? Why, in fact, my daughter proves that very theory to me on an everyday basis. "Don't climb up that slide, you're going to slip!," I'd tell her at the playground. Next thing I know, she's at the top, smilling and waving at me. If only we could all remember to have that type of determination in our adult lives. So, my advice is to not listen to those people who tell you you can't do something (that is.....unless your intention is to....um.....rob your local bank....then, no.....no, you should probably listen to those people then.) And, hey, I'm not trying to be funny....our economy is going down the toilet, gas prices and grocery prices are through the roof and half this country can't afford their mortgage, I'm sure the thought of robbing a bank has crossed a lot of people's minds....not....my mind....certainly NOT....but other people's.

I'm Confused

So, I must admit this whole primary election process is a little wacky. I can't be absolutely sure, but apparently, if you are a Democrat in the State of Florida, only half of your vote counts...huh.....interesting. Then, just when you think it can't get any more f*ck#d-up than Florida, there's Michigan, where incidentally, one doesn't even have to be on the ballot to receive delegates.

So, here I am, pondering (as most of us bloggers tend to do), reflecting, and stewing over these matters....and then I realize...what does it all mean anyway...if I am not a Super Delegate...my opinion does not make one iota of a difference.

Congratulations, Mrs. Clinton, on winning the most primary votes in American history! It's odd that I will not be able to vote for you for President.

Fran-Jell-O-co

So, my husband and I have been on the South Beach Diet for about two months now. I swear, once you get past those first two weeks, this diet is as easy as pie...with a whole wheat flour crust and sugar-free filling, of course. Now that I'm on Phase II, I enjoy my homemade, whole wheat, oatmeal and slivered almond waffles with raspberry preserves (and a little spray butter) and a mango smoothie for breakfast, either apple & peanut butter or pear & herbed goat cheese on crispbread for lunch, and some kind of meat and vegetable for dinner. For a snack, I have anything from light string-cheese to jalapeno-smoked almonds to anise-flavored biscotti, but when it comes to dessert...it can get a bit dull. On Phase I, about the only dessert I could have was sugar-free Jell-O gelatin or some nasty ricotta concoction (and no matter how much the SB cookbooks trump it up as fantastic, it is just plan awful to me). So finally, on Phase II, I could have a square of dark chocolate after dinner, or sugar-free Jell-O, or frozen sugar-free Cool Whip, or sugar-free pudding...satisfying, but after awhile, both my husband and I were tired of it. So I created "Fran-Jell-O-co." Who says Jell-O pudding can't be sophisticated??

Fran-Jell-O-co

Ingredients:
1 4-serving pkg chocolate fudge sugar-free, fat-free Jell-O pudding
2 cups cold lowfat or fat-free milk
1 cup sugar-free Cool Whip, defrosted
1/4 cup chopped, toasted hazelnuts
4 teaspoons Frangelico, hazelnut liqueur

Directions:
Prepare Jell-O pudding according to package directions, pour into 4 ramekins. Let sit until firm, then top each ramekin with 1/4 cup of Cool Whip (if you can manage to make it into that perfect swirl like in the picture on the container...10 points!) Top each with a teaspoon of Frangelico (I know you are not suppose to have liquor on the SB Diet, but it's just a teaspoon!). Then top that with a sprinkling of the chopped hazelnuts. And...voila...Fran-Jell-O-co!

Enjoy!