Shoes, Ships, and Sealing Wax

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It took me an hour and twenty minutes to get home from work this afternoon.

Have I ever mentioned that I live all of eleven miles from my office?

This is freaking insane...eighty minutes to go eleven miles.

I love where I live. I grew up here. In the 18 months I was gone I realized that I don't want to live anywhere but here. But in the last ten years or so the building and the traffic and the crowding has gotten so bad that when I actually leave my house, within minutes I feel like my head is going to explode.

I would be very tempted to buy a house within true walking distance of my office, if the insane development had not lead to a corresponding insane increase in property values that leaves the WWII-era 800-square foot bungalows around my office more expensive than I can afford, if they were even on the market, which they are not. (One was. I honest to God saw the "For Sale" sign for the first time on my way in one morning and by the time I left the office that afternoon the sign said "Under Contract.")

I don't want to move farther out...for one thing, I'd be in Fredericksburg or Gettysburg by the time I could afford it, and if it takes eighty minutes to drive eleven miles, how bad would a 65 mile commute be? My head would explode, no matter how many Zen books I read.

I'd consider bike commuting (even I can ride 11 miles an hour) except that with the traffic around here, and the drivers being a frightening combination of oblivious, careless, and hostile, instead of my head exploding it would likely be flattened under the wheel of a Dodge Durango.

Well, I'm supposed to go to my parents' for dinner. They live seven miles away, so I guess I better get started.

Lights

You can't get a good picture of the Festival of Lights with a cheapo digital camera from a moving car...but you can get a cool picture...

Light up the world

My Christmas celebration continued last night with taking the kids (my niece, age 5, and nephews, 3 and 1) to the Festival of Lights at a local park. This was my first year going and I wasn't expecting much, although the brochure hyped

Winter Lights is a unique spectacle of lights that's sure to capture the imagination and create lifelong memories. Winter Lights 2003 includes more than 300 illuminated displays, and 60 animated displays along a 3.5-mile drive in an enchanted forest setting. A drive through the park is like a drive through a holiday fantasy as festivalgoers will experience an array of characters and displays that will truly light up the night. Special themed areas include Winter Woods, Teddy Bear Land, Victorian Village, the North Pole and much more!

And actually, it was kinda fun. There were some cute animations, like an ice-skating bear who fell down ("on his butt!" giggled my niece), and my nephew spent the whole time with his face glued to the car window, his eyes as big as the proverbial saucers. Kids love lights.

I still love lights. Driving around this past week I've realized that, especially that I love colored lights.

In the neighborhood where I grew up, where my parents still live, we had a neighbor, Tony, who outlined his whole house in colored lights. Then he did the trees and the bushes. Then he built wooden supports for more lights. After a few years of increasing his display we were getting traffic jams in the neighborhood all through December as people came to look at the "light house." Eventually he even created light displays for other holidays, like Valentine's Day and the 4th of July.

Tony was one of those perpetually happy people who always made you feel good. Sometimes I'd run into him at the gas station or grocery store and after we stopped and chatted...after he'd grinned and told a joke and complimented me on something not worthy of a compliment...I'd go away feeling like a million bucks.

Tony passed away a few years ago, and the visitors overflowed the funeral home at his wake. When I got to the front of the line for the viewing I saw a string of mini Christmas lights around the casket and couldn't help but smile. I also saw the grin...not the usual frozen undertaker smile, but an actual grin...on Tony's face. "I wonder how they got his smile to look so real," the neighbor behind me commented.

After a second of thought I said "What makes you think he wasn't smiling like that when he went?"

Tony's family no longer does the full light show...his kids have families and it's too much for his wife. They house is still decorated, but you can't see the glow from space, and they don't get traffic jams. But when the decorations come down in January there is one bush next to the front door that stays lit, always, with mini lights, Tony's eternal flame.

The park with the light show is right around the corner from the old neighborhood. Driving through the lights, I said to my sister "Would Tony have loved this or what?"

What page are we on again?

Spurrier Resigns

Spurrier Denies Team's Report He Has Resigned

UPDATE: Spurrier Now Confirms He's Leaving Redskins

No kidding?

Says Franklin

I'm finally getting around to reading Walter Isaacson's Benjamin Franklin: An American Life. Not surprisingly, I'm finding great quotes galore, like this one:

So convenient a thing it is to be a reasonable creature, since it enables one to find or make a reason for everything one has a mind to do.

Some things political

There are some things about which I feel strongly but I don't articulate my ideas well, some where I feel strongly but have such respect for opposing views that I refrain from discussing them...and some where I feel strongly, don't have much respect for the opposing view, and when the opposing side wants to hear my voice, well, I'll be happy to oblidge:

The Marriage Poll from the American Family Association.

I got some email today from the AFA:

Dear Nic,

Participation in America’s Poll on Homosexual Marriage at marriagepoll.com continues at a steady pace. As of noon Saturday, December 28, the results were as follows:

I oppose legalization of homosexual marriage and “civil unions” total votes: 201914

I favor legalization of homosexual marriage total votes: 378691

I favor a “civil union” with the full benefits of marriage except for the name: 52238

If you have not already voted, click here to do so. Be sure to forward the poll on to your family and friends.
Only votes that have a valid email address associated with them will be counted. We will be purging those with invalid email addresses, which may cause poll results to change somewhat.

Sincerely,

Don

Donald E. Wildmon, Founder and Chairman
American Family Association

P.S. Please forward this email to at least one friend.

You got it, Don.

I (cynically) wonder what method they'll be using to purge those invalid e-mail addresses and what the changed poll results will look like.

Monday morning coming down

Marketing Girl is on her way over. With this cold I am overproducing snot (sorry, that's gross) and I think it has backed up through my sinuses and is clogging up the neural paths in my brain. In other words, I am not thinking well, not a good state in which to talk to Marketing.

I better practice: No. Uh-uh. Nope. Impossible. Can't do it. Won't happen. No way. No. No. NO. NO. NO.

Sunday night, random thoughts

I need to join the 21st century and figure out this .mp3 thing. I got an mp3 player/thumb drive thingy, but apparently I need to "rip the files" before I can listen to them. Perhaps I'll get a teenaged cousin to help me. I'm hardly a technophobe, but sometimes I feel very old.

Getting up for work tomorrow is going to suck after five straight mornings of sleeping in then waking up slowly with a cup of coffee and a long hot soaking bath. Was I the genius who said "Sure, I don't mind working between Christmas and New Year's...the office is nice and quiet"? And I have a 9 am meeting with someone from Marketing, so not only will I be missing my sleep and my home spa treatment, I'll be living in a Dilbert cartoon.

I'm still fighting that cold the kids are passing around. Last week I thought I had it licked (lots of extra sleep and garlic & ginger chicken) but today it's kicking my butt. For dinner tonight I had to escalate to matzo ball soup.

And finally...one of the best (not at all funny) comics I've seen in awhile today: Pearls Before Swine.

On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me...

I shouldn't brag...but it is so cool to have a mate who knows me.

No jewelry, no chocolate, but rather the jersey I coveted in my youth, the one I couldn't afford with the sewn-on stars, the one that's back now that retro is all the rage:

There's more:

This isn't just any replica, it's Rod Langway's jersey. And when I turned it over:

An autograph commemorating Rod's Hall of Fame induction.

This is one I won't be wearing to the games (the guys behind us have been known to spill a beer or two), but certainly one I'll treasure.

Key Lime Pie

Next up in the holiday parade of food is key lime pie. This is a favorite of my grandmother and my father, so I get bonus good offspring points, and it is so simple I don't mind making it.

The recipe is straight off the bottle of Nellie and Joe's Key Lime Juice. I've seen recipes calling for lime Jell-o, or regular lime juice, but I am suspicious of them...key limes don't taste like persian limes. Not that I'm a key lime expert, and the closest I have come to Key West is Sarasota.

Anyway, the recipe:

The filling:
14 ounces (1 can) of condensed milk
3 egg yolks
1/2 cup key lime juice

Combine the filling ingedients (I just use a wire wisk) and pour into a prepared graham cracker crust. (I suppose it is possible to make and bake your own graham cracker crust, but I certainly never have, so you won't find those instructions on my page.) Bake at 350 degrees for 10 minutes. Allow to cool, then chill. (I make it a day ahead to be sure it's sufficiently cool.)

For the topping, my grandmother used to make meringue, but that was only because she wanted to use the extra egg whites. I don't care for meringue, I'll eat the egg whites in an omlette, and I think Cool Whip is actually more traditional. I used to actually cover the top of the pie in Cool Whip, or get fancy piping Cool Whip around the edges and in the center, but I found out Dad isn't a Cool Whip fan and prefers his plain. Now I just throw a container of Cool Whip and a spoon out next to the pie and let people eat it how they want...see, this is a very low-effort dessert.

Have yourself a merry little Christmas

We come pretty close to celebrating for 12 days: dinner last night with my parents, dinner tonight with Victor's family, my extended family on Saturday, the niece and nephews on Tuesday, the Terps in the Gator Bowl on New Year's Day (that is a present for some of us!)...

I hope you all have a safe and happy holiday.

Another birthday

My paternal grandfather was born December 24, 1907.

He actually liked having a Christmas birthday...everyone celebrated it. I first learned the meaning of "surprise" on his birthday, too...the year I ran to the front door to meet him yelling "Happy birthday! We got you a shirt!"

As his first grandchild, though, I could do no wrong, not even by ruining birthday surprises. He spoiled me rotten, although the best thing he gave me was time. He retired when I was just a toddler and frequently babysat, and he never seemed to get tired of reading books to me, or taking me on walks, or using up rolls and rolls of Polaroid film.

He taught me about rocks (or gems and minerals, a distinction I learned quite young), the American Revolution, and poker. Anything I studied in school he knew more about than my teacher, and he'd take me down to his basement to help me look things up in a 1889 Encyclopædia Britannica (which I now have) anytime I came up with a question.

He died of lung cancer when I was 12, and I am ashamed to admit that he got sick around the time I because a self-absorbed adolescent and I didn't realize that he was dying until it was too late...there were a million things left to ask him that I never got to ask.

I think about both my grandfathers often, but especially this time of year around their birthdays. The chruschiki and the beigli, although Christmas cookies now, were their birthdays cakes when they were alive.

Nic's soapbox

Heather has a post up this morning on obesity laws which dovetails rather nicely with an article in this morning's Washington Post on the new gym classes in local schools.

Now I'm going to apparently contradict something I said earlier: I actually do care about the "obesity epidemic."

I work in the public health sector. In a way, I think it would be unprofessional of me if I didn't care about obesity the same way I care about AIDS, or cancer, or seatbelts, or antibiotic resistance.

From a May speech by Secretary of Health & Human Services Tommy Thompson:

Now I want to talk with you about an epidemic that is slowing our nation down: obesity. Today, nearly 2 out of 3 American adults and about 15% of children are overweight or obese. And minorities are faring worse than the overall population: 23% of Hispanic Americans are obese. And 30% of African Americans are obese.

At least 17 million Americans have Type 2 diabetes. That's about one out of every 20 people. At least 16 million more have pre-diabetes. Poor nutrition, overweight, and inactivity cause at least a third of all cancers. And obesity aggravates hypertension, which contributes to the number one cause of death in this country: heart disease.

Every day, there's new evidence about the harmful health effects of obesity. The CDC reported this week that obese and overweight women face significantly increased risks of having babies with birth defects.

We must increase the number of women who are at a healthy weight before they become pregnant.

We should also be particularly concerned about America's children. Think of this: Type 2 Diabetes was once a disease of adults 40 and older. Now it's found in children as young as 8.

Why? Because our children are more sedentary and overweight than ever before. In fact, the number of overweight children has tripled in the past two decades. We need to get serious about our children's lifestyles and get them active for at least an hour every day.

This is where I get on my prevention soapbox. I can't help it! So many of our chronic, debilitating illnesses can be prevented through lifestyle choices.

I actually think that most of what the government is doing...massive outreach and education...is appropriate. I appreciate the goals of legislation like the proposed Menu Education and Labeling Act, which would require nutritional labeling in restaurants. (N.B., this doesn't mean the mom & pop deli down the street, it applies to chains with 20 or more outlets. They have an idea of how much food they are using and what goes into the menu items...those corporate test kitchens are labs.) I've been reading with great interest the meeting transcripts from the FDA Obesity Working Group.

Personal bias disclosure: I live in the Washington area. Many members of my family are or were career government workers. I personally have worked for government contractors most of my career and I have worked with doctors, nurses, and scientists from FDA and NIH. Most of them are dedicated health professionals who think of the citizens as their patients, and their interest is not in getting grants or publishing their own research, it is in the public health. So I don't laugh when someone says "I'm from the government and I'm here to help."

Beyond the public health is the economic need. Obesity-related medical conditions hurt productivity and treating the obesity-related conditions costs money. From the Surgeon General:

Overweight and obesity and their associated health problems have substantial economic consequences for the U.S. health care system. The increasing prevalence of overweight and obesity is associated with both direct and indirect costs. Direct health care costs refer to preventive, diagnostic, and treatment services related to overweight and obesity (for example, physician visits and hospital and nursing home care). Indirect costs refer to the value of wages lost by people unable to work because of illness or disability, as well as the value of future earnings lost by premature death.

In 1995, the total (direct and indirect) costs attributable to obesity amounted to an estimated $99 billion. In 2000, the total cost of obesity was estimated to be $117 billion ($61 billion direct and $56 billion indirect). Most of the cost associated with obesity is due to type 2 diabetes, coronary heart disease, and hypertension.

I favor the education, as I've said before, and maybe some economic incentives for people to improve their health. (We're going to pay the costs one way or another, so why not put the money on the prevention side?)

I cleaned up my act, after years of eating poorly, being sedentary, and smoking, after watching family members get diabetes and cancer and have heart attacks and stokes. I am not going to have kids to take care of me and I'm not rich enough to afford the nice nursing homes, so I figure it's in my best interest, economically and otherwise, to do what I can to remain as healthy as possible.

But that's just personal. You shouldn't care about my health any more than I care about yours. But when it is the health of 2/3 of the productive population, the economics of it should make the issue of interest to all of us.

Germs

I'm becoming a handwashing freak. I admit it...I've gone through half a bottle of antbacterial gel in the last week.

My sister's kids got sick. Then she got sick. Now my mom (who babysits the kids) is sick.

I've been around all of them, and dammit, I am not getting sick.

Beigli & Chruschiki, the Recipes

The nicest guy on the internet says he wants the recipes, so here goes:

Beigli

For the filling:

1 1/2 cups water
3 1/2 cups sugar
5 cups ground walnuts
1/2 teaspoon ground cloves
1 1/2 teaspoons cinnamon
grated rind of two small lemons

Boil water and sugar to form a syrup (about five minutes). Stir in nuts, spices, and lemon rind and allow to cool. (We generally do this the night before.)

Apricot preserves (about 18 ounces)
Raisins (about 1 pound)

For the dough:

6 cups flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 tablespoon salt
3 sticks butter
3 eggs
1 tablespoon vanilla
3 3/4 teaspoons yeast
1/2 cup milk, warmed

Also

Egg whites

Sift together flour, sugar, and salt. Cut in butter. Lightly beat eggs and mix in vanilla. Dissolve yeast in warm milk. Add egg mixture and yeast mixture and knead into soft dough. Cut into six equal pieces and let rest for 30 minutes. (Despite the yeast, the dough doesn't really rise, and it really is only supposed to rest half an hour, or so my great-aunt says.)

Roll dough as for a pie crust and spread lightly with apricot preserves. Spread a thin layer of the nut filling and sprinkle with raisins. Roll as for a jelly roll, tucking the ends under when complete. ("Lightly" and "thin" are, of course, relative. My nth cousin rolls her crust thicker and spreads the filling lighter; it looks nicer when it's cut but I like the taste of the filling better than the crust. And her crust still cracks.)

Brush with egg whites and pierce the dough several times with a fork or toothpick (or it will explode). Bake at 350 degrees for 30 minutes, brushing with egg white a second time halfway through the baking.

Cool beigli on a rack. The crust often cracks; as the beigli cools gently push it back together. The filling will hold it together (the filling, when it comes out of the oven, is like molten lava,but stickier.). When cool, wrap in plastic wrap and foil and store in a refrigerator or freezer. This recipe makes six beigli.

Chrusciki

Ingredients:

2 1/2 cups flour
1/4 teaspoon salt
5 egg yolks
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon grated lemon peel
1 1/2 teaspoons almond extract (or Amaretto)
5 tablespoons sour cream
1 quart of oil for frying
Powdered sugar

Sift together flour and salt. Beat eggs, sugar, lemon peel, and almond extract until thick. Add sour cream. Stir in flour and salt mixture. Knead until pliable.

Cover dough and let stand one hour.

Roll out dough (about one-third at a time) onto a floured work surface. Roll very thin ("so you can read through it," according to my grandfather). Cut into strips (about 1" by 3") and cut a slit in the center of each strip. Pass one end of the strip through the slit (it makes a bow tie-looking shape).

Heat the oil in a heavy pot to 370 degrees. Fry chrusciki three at a time, turning once, until light golden brown. Drain on paper towels. Sprinkle with powdered sugar while warm.

Beigli & Chrusciki

Sounds like an eastern European law firm.

Anyway, that's how I spent yesterday, making beigli (a Hungarian pastry filled with apricot, walnut, and raisin) and chrusciki (a Polish cookie made of fried dough covered in powdered sugar). These are the labor-intensive family holiday treats. I'm learning how to make them, and have been learning for the past few years...there's something of a learning curve, and when you only practice one out of every 365 days, that curve is a bit steep, especially for those of us who don't bake and don't grasp the subtleties of how dough feels. There's a lot of "feel" in these recipes.

My sister has the flu and couldn't help this year...the responsibility of carrying on these traditions is really in her hands, because she can bake. But I did an okay job:

Beigli

Chrusciki

In fact, I'm enjoying both right now with a cup of strong coffee, and I have to say that I did just fine.

(I'm not going to type up the recipes...what I have on paper barely matches what my mother told me to actually do...but if you want the recipes because you've actually heard of either one of them or something, drop me a note and I'll be happy to send them. In my life I have met maybe three people outside the family who knew of chruschiki and one who knew beigli. Even better...if you have ever made beigli and know how to keep the crust from cracking, please please please email me. That secret seems to be buried with my great-grandmother.)

Happy Chanukah

While not Jewish, I do love latkes...

I'm sorry; I'm a day late with the good wishes. To all celebrating Chanukah, happy second night, and I hope you have a peaceful and joyous week.

Rat therapy

Usually I leave the rat posts to the Rat Blog, but I like this one so much I'm doing it twice.

Lately I've been lying down on the bed with the rats when we let them out for playtime...or as I have taken to calling it, rat therapy. It started one night just because I was tired...I laid down (I need to look up the lay/lie thing. I've always had trouble with that.) on the bed and dozed off. The sensation of little rat feet on my back...not quite a tickle, not quite a massage, was quite relaxing.

(Victor frequently says "That is somebody's worst nightmare" when the rats crawl on us, particularly en mass. If that's you, I apologize. Stop reading now.)

I imagined this as a new spa treament, like hot stone therapy or a coffee scrub. Picture the lavender-sage aromatherapy candles lit, the water trickling from the tabletop fountain, the vibraharp New Age music playing softly. Lay down in a thick white robe...and open a cage full of rats.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Stuffed ham

Stuffed ham is a uniquely Maryland food. In fact, I think it is unique to Southern Maryland...I've never seen it up here in the central part of the state except in the hands of Southern Marylanders (as they passed it to me).

Geographical aside: Southern Maryland is not the Eastern Shore. I watched a Food Network show about the Oyster Festival in St. Mary's that would have been a fine show had the host not repeatedly misidentified their location. "Look at a map, you moron!" I kept yelling at the television.

Anyway, stuffed ham. I had it first at a wedding in Southern Maryland and it knocked my socks off. I like salty country ham, but this...ooooh, this is even better.

You take a country ham and cut slits in it, then stuff the slits with a mixture of chopped kale, cabbage, onion, red pepper, and probably every family has their own special spice mix. The ham needs to sit overnight and cook for awhile, so it isn't something you just whip up after coming home from work. I've never made it. Since I fell for it at that wedding years ago, I have just put the word out that I love stuffed ham, and stuffed ham has come my way.

My grandmother and great aunt used to go down to a church festival where they sold stuffed ham. Unfortunately some poor food handling caused a food poisoning outbreak in 1997, and I'm not sure the church still holds the supper. At any rate, my grandmother has passed away and my great aunt doesn't get around anymore.

After I lost that stuffed ham connection I met a young couple who live here but grew up in St. Mary's. When they go home for Easter they sneak back enough ham that I get a sandwich.

Reading the food section of the Post the other day a very small ad caught my eye: order stuffed ham for the holidays. Oooh, can I?

Stuffed hams are in the 12 to 14 pound range. That's a heckuva lot of ham for two people. But still...something to consider.

Then I recycled the damn paper and lost the phone number.

So I have spent the last hour or so on the internet. I found recipes, but no offers of stuffed ham for sale. Then as I waded through a Southern Maryland discussion board I found out...they sell stuffed ham in grocery store delis.

Wooo HOOOO!!! Time for a road trip with a cooler.

Happy birthday

Today would have been my grandfather's 85th birthday.

He was born in Brooklyn but spent his early childhood in my great-grandparents' native Poland. He returned to New York just in time to start elementry school, barely speaking English. He went on to become an engineer.

He came to Washington at the start of World War II. By the time the war was over he'd met and married a government girl from Boston, so instead of going back to Brooklyn or following her to Massachusetts they bought a house in suburban Maryland and raised five kids, the eldest of whom is my mom.

He worked for the government his entire career, first with Navy, then Commerce. I am embarrassed to admit that I don't know what my grandfather did, exactly...just that he worked downtown and for what departments.

On the other hand, the reason I don't know what he did was that he didn't bring his work home with him. When I saw him on weekends it was for family parties, birthdays and holidays and visiting out-of-town friends and family who were always staying at my grandparents' house.

My grandparents rented a beach house in Ocean City every summer when I was young, and my mom and my uncles and the spouses and kids all came down for a week. My grandfather was always an early riser, and in the mornings he and I would walk up to the store (the Fractured Prune) to buy the newspaper. With 16 grandchildren in the family I didn't get a lot of one-on-one time with him, but I did get some.

I had a dream a few weeks ago that I was at the beach with some friends. We were walking up Coastal Highway and I saw some men sitting on the deck of a condo. One of the men was my grandfather. I jumped up on the deck and kissed him hello, and asked if he wanted to come with us. He indicated his cane and said he couldn't walk much, but told me to have a good time. I left him on the deck, and when I woke up the memory of the dream confused me. I couldn't figure out when I'd been to the beach with those particular friends or why we'd gone in cold weather. It dawned on me very slowly that it was just a dream, and the main point that made reality dawn is that my grandfather died in 1996. I did not kiss him hello on the deck.

It wasn't such a sad realization, though. It has been seven years since I saw him, but the dream felt like a visit. I only wish I'd stayed and visited longer.

Creme de cacao truffles

Okay, my dislike of cooking (as opposed to my great love of food and eating) is well established. So when I do cook (or assemble) food, I try to do the easiest thing possible.

A few years ago I had to bring some treat to work for a party, and I found a recipe in one of those colorful little cookbooks they sell at the grocery store checkout. (You know those cookbooks...most of the ingredients are brand name products, and most of the recipes are designed to take like ten minutes to make. Just my speed.)

Since this recipe required no actual cooking beyond melting chocolate, I decided to give it a shot. It was for chocolate truffles, something I'd never tasted. I made a batch...a bit sloppy, because I am a slob, but not too hard. I didn't much care for the results, but I am not a huge chocolate fan.

I took them to work. The people who like chocolate seemed to like them okay, although a few of the connaisseurs were slightly appalled by how I'd made them.

That afternoon, one of the gentlemen in the office, an older chemist from eastern Europe, came to my desk and said, with his wonderful old world accent, "I understand you made those truffles." I said I had. He said "When I was young, my mother made truffles." Then he whispered, like he was afraid she might hear, "Yours are even better."

Well, I no longer cared what the confection connaisseurs thought, because never in my life has anyone suggested that I made anything better than his mother!

So I have made truffles every year since, and a box of them goes straight to Dr. Chemist. Here's the recipe I use:

Creme de cacao truffles

(Adapted from a Kraft Philadelphia Cream Cheese recipe)

3 cups of sifted powdered sugar [I sift this one, because when you've been told your truffles are better than someone's mother's, you don't want to mess it up!]
8 ounces of softened cream cheese
12 ounces of chocolate chips, melted
3 tablespoons of creme de cacao
Unsweetened powdered cocoa

Melt the chocolate chips over low heat. While the chocolate is melting, beat the cream cheese and powdered sugar with an electric mixer untill well blended. [I add the sugar about a cup at a time.] Add the chocolate and mix, then add the creme de cacao and mix. [This is a deviation from the original. I don't keep a lot of liqueurs around, and dividing the mix into thirds to make different flavors seemed too much like work, so instead of doing Amaretto, Grand Marnier, and Kahlua, I stuck with chocolate.] Chill the mixture for a few hours, then roll into small (about 1 inch) balls. Roll the balls lightly in powdered cocoa. [Deviation Number 2. The first year I did use coconut, chopped nuts, etc., but it was a pain, and Dr. Chemist seemed to like the plain cocoa ones best, so that's what I go with now.] Put each truffle in a small paper muffin tin liner [that's what I found at the grocery store; I think you can buy actual candy holder thingys somewhere] so they don't stick together. Keep in a refrigerator.

Here is the finished product:

And this is what it does to my kitchen. This year was sloppier than usual; I think I tried to mix before the cream cheese had sufficiently softened.

Some politics, some religion, some thoughts

I don't often write about politics, and most of my thoughts on religion are disjointed and poorly articulated. Sometimes I'll try to work though ideas on paper (or screen, as the case may be) to help myself sort them out...this is not a thesis, it is an exercise.

When my clock radio went on this morning, I heard, through the fog of sleep, the story about Cardinal Renato Martino's declaration of compassion for Saddam Hussein. From what I heard, it sounded like this was controversial.

Now unless Cardinal Martino tried to excuse or justify Hussein's brutality, or suggested that he be returned to power, I can't see why this would be a controversy. The Catholic Church suggesting compassion? Why is this a shock?
My understanding of Christianity is that compassion, mercy, and forgivness are the ideal for which to strive.

Being revolted by Hussein is easy, to say the least. Compassion, whew, that is hard, very hard.

Something has really been on my mind, about Hussein, bin Laden, John Muhammad and Lee Malvo, or any terrorist, and that's the dehumanization of them. I've seen them called monsters and seen what they did called "inhuman."

But the thing is...they are human. What they did was inhumane, but not inhuman...humans are very obviously quite capable of vicious, brutal, cruel, malevolent...I could go on with synonyms until I reach evil...acts.

If we make them inhuman because of those acts, we distance ourselves...I am not related to that. I can not be that.

Thing is...I am. I know it. I'm not the tyrannical dictator of a country and it is not within my power to slaughter my citizens, but I know I'm capable of feeling bloodlust and hate.

I knew it Sunday morning when I heard Hussein had been captured and I though, let the Iraqis have him. Muslim death penalties aren't as quick and painless as ours...

I know it when somebody cuts me off in traffic.

The hate is in me. The evil is in me.

I quit going to church some time ago, but for the last few years I've really been exploring...spirituality, I guess is the term. I'm trying to figure out how I ought to be living my life.

It's an ongoing thing I don't explain well. But part of my...philosophy?...is that there is good and there is evil, and I need to try, constantly and mindfully, to choose good.

Minor example: guy cuts me off in traffic. Not only does the bastard cut me off, he makes me miss the light. Not only that, but the sonovabitch is driving a T-Bird, a car I can't afford. I hate that jerk. Reckless maniac, I hope he wrecks the car.

Deep breath...so I'm two minutes later getting home. Big deal. So I don't have a T-Bird. I do have a car, a reasonably safe and reliable car, and I'm not standing outside in the slush waiting to catch a bus. And that guy is driving recklessly...I hope he doesn't have a wreck, I hope he doesn't hurt himself or anyone else driving that way.

Major example: Saddam Hussein. I can justify hating him, justify wanting him dead, no, wanting him tortured the way he tortured so so many others...I can justify that because he's evil.

But no. Without excusing what he did, without justifying what he did, with a complete agreement that this is a person who did evil things, I need to try to feel compassion, mercy, and forgiveness.

It seems to me that evil spreads evil. Vengence spreads vengence. Can we treat Hussein in a humane way, keep him from harming anyone else, yet keep him from harm? Aspire to good and turn away from continuing evil?

That's rhetorical. I know. No. And a lot of people will argue quite convincingly that Hussein's eventual execution is not continuing evil.

And it isn't something over which I have a speck of control...just something I am thinking about. And thinking about that is reminding me how often I slip into hate and bloodlust and dehumanization and indifference on a regular daily basis over the little things, and those I can control.

Oatmeal raisin cookies breakfast disks

Ted has got me thinking of oatmeal raisin cookies. They are my favorite cookie, although I don't make them often (I'm not much into baking; too much measuring and too many dishes to wash afterward. I've mentioned that I'm slackass lazy, right?)

I wasn't planning on making cookies at all this year. I'm making truffles for work (intending to do that tomorrow, in fact) and a key lime pie for the family party, and on Saturday my mom and sister and I will be doing the traditional family (Polish and Hungarian) stuff. But I don't need cookies, the people at work don't need cookies (the office has been hit with a food tsunami), and most of my family are on diets.

But I was looking at Ted's oatmeal raisin cookie recipe thinking...oatmeal is healthy. Raisins are healthy. Maybe I could call these breakfast?

Just for comparison, here's my recipe:

1/2 cup shortening or butter
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
1 1/2 cup oatmeal
1 1/2 cup sifted flour [Yeah, right. I have never sifted the flour. This was my mother's recipe. She sifts.]
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1/2 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 teaspoon salt
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon allspice
1/4 cup milk
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup seedless raisins [Can you still get raisins with seeds?]

Cream shortening and sugar. Add eggs and oatmeal. Sift [Uh huh. Mix with a fork.] together dry ingredients and add alternately with milk. Add vanilla and raisins. Drop on lightly greased cookie sheet [I assume the original recipe said something like "drop by tablespoonfuls" and I was trying to fit the whole thing on one side of a 3 x 5 card]. Bake at 350 degrees for 12 minutes.

One of the first times I made these (as a kid) I used what were then brand new "no stick" baking sheets. I neglected to compensate for the dark no-stick coating and after 12 minutes the bottoms of the cookies were quite burned. That first batch went to the dog, who loved them...we finally got her trained to "shake" using the burned cookies.

Another thing I don't like about baking is having to get the ingredients right...it is chemistry, after all. (They don't allow me in the lab, have I ever mentioned that?) So I'm wondering if using wheat flour, which I happen to have, would screw this recipe up totally. And I have some buttermilk, but no regular milk...wonder what that would do.

If I have time tomorrow I might experiment. And if it doesn't work...I have never trained this dog to shake.

The Zen of Steve Spurrier

I heard this clip from yesterday's Redskins press conference on the radio...it sounds so much better with Spurrier's aw-shucks accent:

"Whatever your record is, it is. I've always said that. No matter if your whole team got hurt or what, you are whatever your record is for that year. That's what we have to accept and move on."

Christmas Carols & Comic Books

Normally I don't have the attention span to finish a Quizilla quiz, or the results when I do confuse me. But ya know, this one isn't too far off the mark.

You are 'Silent Night'! You really enjoy
Christmas, and you like your Christmases
conventional. For you, Christmas is about
family and traditions, and you rather enjoy the
rituals of going to church at midnight and
turning off the lights before flaming the plum
pudding. Although you find Christmas shopping
frustrating, you like the excitement of
wrapping and hiding presents, and opening a
single door on the Advent Calendar each day.
You like the traditional carols, and probably
teach the children to sing along to them. More
than anyone else, you will probably actually
have a merry Christmas.


What Christmas Carol are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

At this point the people in the pew in front of me usually grab the kids and move. I really can't sing worth jack.

Oh, and in unrelated Quizilla results:

You are Professor X!

You are a very effective teacher, and you are very
committed to those who learn from you. You put
your all into everything you do, to some extent
because you fear failure more than anything
else. You are always seeking self-improvement,
even in areas where there is nothing you can do
to improve.


Which X-Men character are you most like?
brought to you by Quizilla

Holiday greeting

Years ago I found a Christmas card that had me in utter hysterics. Unfortunately I didn't buy every last one of them so that I could send them out forever. I had some time to kill today, so I played with Goggle's image search and Photoshop Elements and I recreated the gist of it:

Peas on Earth. Gouda wheel. Two men.

Peas on Earth. Gouda wheel. Two men.

Peas on Earth! Gouda wheel! Two men!

Well, I still think it is hysterical.

Oh Christmas Tree

I went out with my dad and cut down trees this morning. He and I do this every year, and have since I was about four. Even the years I wasn't living in Maryland he waited 'til I got home for Christmas so I could go get the tree.

It's funny, because we are not a touchy-feely-huggy family at all, but with unspoken traditions like this we are obviously very sentimental.

My favorite part of the tree tradition is getting up to the tree farm and having Dad say "It sure doesn't seem like it's been a year since we did this." (He also says that every year when we get to the beach.)

I got a tree this year. I haven't put a tree up for a long time...the last one was a year or two before my husband and I separated, and I remember decorating that one by myself while I drank Jack Daniels and listened to John Hiatt. It was not exactly a Norman Rockwell holiday that year.

But this year Victor and I will be home Christmas morning and several days around Christmas, and we've acquired some ornaments as gifts since we've been together, and I dunno, it just felt like it was time again.

Tomorrow when it's snowing (or sleeting or freezing rain or whatever nastiness Mother Nature is throwing at us) we'll put on a pot of soup and decorate the tree. I don't expect Norman Rockwell...we're a bit too offbeat for that, I think...but I'm looking forward to Christmas a lot this year.

The play's a thriller.

When I was a kid, the year before the Caps started playing, my mom introduced me to hockey on television. NBC broadcast the games, and what impressed young me was the cartoon Peter Puck.

When the Caps were still new and hockey quite the anomaly in this part of the world, I found a copy of a Peter Puck book called Love that Hockey Game in the remainder bin at K-Mart. It was essentially the cartoons in book form, explaining the basic rules of the game. I memorized that book. (The only other hockey book of my childhood was Tough Guys of Pro Hockey by Frank Orr. I treasure that because of the chapter on Bugsy Watson, who played for the Caps at the time.)

Anyway...every time I see a penalty shot, and we had one last night in the Caps' win over the Bruins (Dainius Zubrus scored), I think of Peter Puck. I think of the big blocky cartoon goalie and "Peter's" description "[t]his one-on-one is considered the most exciting play in hockey."

In fact...lemme just show you.

I said it last night when I stood up to watch Zuby take the shot, the same way I've said it for probably every penalty shot I have ever seen...the play's a thriller.

In today's spam...

An offer for the "Dog Translator."

With it, "you can know what your dog is saying to you every time."

Victor has actually gotten very good at this without a translator. It goes something like "Can I have more food? Can I have your food? How about that food over there? Well, then how about a walk? Since you don't feel like walking you should give me a treat. I haven't had food in forever..." (Chomp gulp) "Thanks, now can I have more food? ..."

So long

Capitals Fire Coach Bruce Cassidy.

Or, as the press release from the team puts it, Capitals Name Glen Hanlon Head Coach.

I'm wondering if the final straw was Cassidy's tirade after last week's disgraceful loss to New Jersey. (Nine shots. The Caps managed only nine shots the whole freakin' game. In case you were wondering why I've not been blogging about hockey, for once I've been following the advice of my mom [and Thumper's]: if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.)

Cassidy reportedly "brought up his players' families, saying that he did not care if the players had pregnant wives or sick children on their minds and that such issues were no excuse for the way they were playing."

Now, that's a pretty low blow. On the other hand, I had a boss once tell me to pull my head out of my ass and give the company the eight hours a day for which they were paying me. She put it a lot nicer than that, and I respected her, and I responded.

Cassidy had already lost control, already lost their respect, and so the players weren't going to respond with "Gee, you're right, coach, maybe we aren't giving 100%."

I've also know a few mercurial, tyrannical people in the workplace. They aren't a pleasure to work with, but in some circumstances (some being the key word) they can get results. (Mike Keenan?) One thing about those leaders, though...they don't come back the next day and apologize for hurting your feelings.

Maybe Cassidy can drop back a few leagues and get a better handle on what kind of coach he is.

That said...we're still not exactly a Stanley Cup contender. But I am looking forward to the next couple of weeks to see what kind of changes Hanlon makes.

Not that I've ever used one

The NIH has a museum of medical research (specifically the DeWitt Stetten, Jr., Museum of Medical Research). I've seen bits of the collection when I've gone to the NIH campus for work, something I don't do too much anymore. And while theoretically anyone can go to NIH, it is a royal pain to get into a federal facility.

The web exhibits the museum puts up on the web are pretty cool, too, though, and there's no need to go through security. The latest, a thin blue line, covers the history (scientific and cultural) of the at-home pregnancy test kit.

(There's more, if pregnancy test kits don't interest you...the genome and anatomical art, pain and poppies.)

Moan

I'm going to go ahead and stick this in the extended entry, because it's just me moaning about not feeling well. Definite chance of TMI...read at your own risk.

The endometriosis has flared up again. I'm depressed. After September, when the cramps and the accompanying gastrointestinal...distress, shall we say...were bad enough to make me miss a day and a half of work, I found a book about controlling endo with nutrition.

So, I started a vitamin and supplement regimen that didn't seem too crazy...no megadoses, nothing untested. I did some followup research beyond the stuff in the book and found some rationales that seemed sound.

October, no problem. November, no problem.

Last week, midweek, I started feeling...off. The cramps are coming. I can't explain why I knew, I just did...I guess this mindfulness stuff is working to some extent. I started taking naproxen every 12 hours. I was definitely cramping on Thursday, when I had to deliver a training presentation at work. I slapped on one of those Therma-care heating pads and, while I didn't feel well, I made it through the presentation and the rest of the day. Friday was worse, but I got through work. Friday night sucked: bad cramps, nausea, diarrhea. At least it's the weekend, and because of the snow I had an excuse to go nowhere and do nothing.

The weekend was up and down. I had hours of feeling practically normal then I'd need to curl around a heating pad unable to straighten out my legs. Unfortunately this morning was one of those bouts, along with the gi distress. (That's worse than the pain. I can, once I get to work, surreptitiously use a heating pad and stay bent over my desk. I really hate the dash to the restroom, which is about as far from my office as it can be in my building.)

I called in sick. I rescheduled an audit, which is frowned upon.

Now I'm curled up with my laptop doing Google searches, although I'm not finding anything that I didn't find in September. My next gynocologist appointment is January 5, when I'm scheduled for another Depo Provera shot. I wonder if I can go with a higher progestin dose, maybe in an oral form...the Depot Provera worked for a couple of years, and it seems to work for 2 out of 3 months now...maybe I just need more ooph.

Maybe I need to deal with the surgery. I am a big wuss about surgical procedures. Of course my wussiness changes with the degree of pain I am in at any one time: at 6 am if someone had offered to pull out my reproductive organs with a spork I'd have agreed to it.

The five days of naproxen have shredded my stomach, which can't be helping the pain and inflammation in that particular system.

And although this is a real condition, and I am in real pain, I feel like a...I already said "wuss," but I can't think of a synonym...for calling in with cramps. All women have cramps. Pain is so subjective I can't help but wonder if I am just a baby.

Also, and this makes no rational sense...I have a certain level of embarrassment about why I'm out sick. Like it isn't polite. I'm apparently not alone in this; it is a recurring theme on endometriosis support group web pages. And while I'm bold enough to blog about it ad nauseum, I'm not telling my boss why I'm out.

Actually, a few years ago, before I started the Depo Provera and this was a monthly problem, the supervisor I worked for noticed that I was out frequently and with something of a pattern, and he asked...out of genuine concern; he was really a good guy...if I could tell him what was wrong. He was afraid that there was something at work that was stressing me to the point of collapse every four weeks. He was a biologist, so I figured he wouldn't get too weirded out by an endrocine system disorder.

Not only was he supportive and not weirded out, when I started the shots he and I discussed the possible side effects. I was a little concerned about turning into a psycho bitch, and he agreed not to put it in my review if I was. (Regarding the adverse effects...I do seem a bit more moody than normal in the first couple days after a shot, but nothing like the internet horror stories.)

But the guy I work for now...eh eh.

The nutrition book I got really recommended two approaches...or rather, a two-pronged approach...one being the supplements, the other being excluding certain foods from the diet. Meat. Wheat. Dairy. Alcohol. That I really didn't do, except to look for goat cheese more often. That may be the next step. Honestly, though, in a few days when this has passed I wonder if I'll have the discipline to pass on wine and wheat.

I may be back here in March moaning about how horrible I feel.

Those oldies but goodies

I've admitted, unashamedly, several times, that I listen to the local oldies station. They were making my evening during dinner tonight when they played Oh Babe, What Would You Say?, Hurricane Smith's 1972 hit.

I love that song. I haven't heard it in years.

Then they ruined my evening after a few commercials by playing Uptown Girl by Billy Joel.

I have nothing against Billy Joel. There was a time when I really liked Billy Joel, even...I pretty much wore out my copy of The Stranger. I still like Scenes from an Italian Restaurant...especially the line "They got a divorce as a matter of course and they parted the closest of friends."

But my oldies station didn't play Scenes from an Italian Restaurant, or Piano Man, or My Life.

No, they played Uptown Girl. That song has a video. No song that has a video (not a promotional film, a video) is an oldie.

Is it?

What defines "oldie?"

I think of oldies as '50's and 60's...which they were in the '70's and '80's. I guess it is time for me to suck it up and realize that the popular, current music from my youth is now old. I need to come to terms with the fact that somewhere someone is playing an album that I heard on the progressive campus station when I was in college, and his kid is saying "Dad, do we have to listen to that ancient crap?"

I need to start looking for the "easy listening" radio station.

Sealing wax?

I've done shoes. I've done ships.

I have no ideas for sealing wax.

I have noticed that when I check out the SiteMeter report, most of my hits are from people looking for The Walrus and the Carpenter (I guess that's what they are looking for...they search on the whole line, so I imagine someone sitting at a PC saying "Y'know, that poem with 'shoes and ships and sealing wax'...what's that called?").

After that, the hits are from people searching simply on "sealing wax."

So I ask you, searchers...

What exactly are you looking for? A place to buy sealing wax? Instructions on how to use sealing wax? Why do you need sealing wax, anyway?

Seriously, I'm dying of curiosity. Please, leave a comment.

Dogwood

Oh my shrunken brain

Google's News feature is cool. Not only did I get the cannibal scoop, but I like getting the headlines-by-topic. Here's what I found in Health this morning:

Moderate Alcohol Consumption Linked To Brain Shrinkage

Red Wine May Protect Against Breast Cancer

Shrunken brain, breast cancer. What to do, what to do...

Okay, lest anyone take me seriously here, I do not base my eating and drink habits on the health story of the day, especially on the popular-press-reporting of the health story of the day. I often follow up by reading the actual medical journal articles (since I have the luxury of a medical library here at work), but even then no one study has ever made me do or not do something.

I just happened to be amused by the juxtaposition of those two headlines.

Incidentally, there is a really good article, How to Understand and Interpret Food and Health-Related Scientific Studies, on the International Food Information Council Foundation web page.

I've just discovered IFIC. It looks to be industry-supported, with "partners" in academia, government, and medical associations. They say they don't "lobby for legislative or regulatory activities."

Maybe this comes from growing up so close to the Beltway, but I assume everybody is lobbying for something somehow. Not that I have a problem with that, I just like to know whose message I'm reading. As I said, I was impressed by the article on how to read studies, and I'll look at IFIC's stuff in more depth soon...that might be a good project for a snowy Saturday morning, in fact.

If I don't shrink my brain too much tonight.

UPDATE: I've read through several of the press releases and educational materials...the spin is definitely agribusiness and big food production. Not that that negates the information (some of which I found to be a bit on the obvious side, but I do read a lot of health- and nutrition-related information)...but like I said, you gotta know who's paid the bills, since there is no Center for Thoughtful and Reasonable Analysis of All Available Data with Appropriate Advisories on the Limitations of Said Data for Informed and Responsible Individuals Who Are Willing to Make Decisions and Accept the Consequences. And heck, even if there was, there'd be spin.

Winter wonderland

Well, when I got up at 5:30 (ok, 5:40, I did hit snooze, but just once for a change!) we had a bit more snow than I expected. Victor, who was already out clearing the cars and the sidewalk (I love that man), said about three inches, and at the time it was coming down in big fluffy flakes.

By 6:30, when he left for work and I snapped this picture, it was changing over to sleet, which I hope means a change to rain soon. Not because I like cold rain, but because I'd like to see some of the stuff on the road melt before I go to work.

Normally I leave at 6:30 too, but my office is delaying opening 'til 9. I'm having trouble getting used to this...for the first ten years I was there we had a "we never close" policy, but now we have a new VP who lives out in the country. Don't get me wrong...it is a shock to the system, but a great shock. It's almost 7 and I'm still in my jammies, drinking coffee and playing on the computer.

Ok, on a regular day I'd be at my desk at work drinking coffee and checking out blogs right about now, too. But I wouldn't be in my jammies.

Ew.

"Ew" doesn't really cover it, but...ew.

Last night I happened to catch sight of a news graphic on a television in a restaurant that said something like "German Cannibal Trial."

"Is there a German cannibal on trial?" I asked Victor. He didn't know. Somehow I have missed this story.

Fool that I am, I looked it up on Google.

Ew.

Buy milk! Buy bread!

There was a traffic jam in the shopping center parking lot next to my house tonight, because (can you believe it? In December?) we are under a winter storm watch.

Crap.

Actually, I don't blame people at all for stopping to get stuff tonight, because if we really do get the "wintry mix" of freezing rain, sleet, and snow over the next four days, going out is going to be nasty.

(Mostly I'm irked because this forecast doesn't bode well for my participation is Saturday's Jingle Bell 5K.)

And I am not going to complain about how Washingtonians go crazy when the weather is bad...

I hear that a lot. In fact, I heard that back when I was living Down South, from a coworker named Charlie who'd grown up in Mobile, Alabama. Charlie was a retired commander, so he'd had his O-4 lobotomy. Before retiring and returning to the beloved Deep South he'd been stationed at the Pentagon. One winter when it snowed during the day it had apparently taken him two hours to travel home, a trip that usually took twenty minutes.

It took more than two hours for him to tell me about how Washingtonians can't drive in snow and how the whole city was just insane where weather is concerned.

While he ranted I remembered a co-worker I'd had here, Mary from Buffalo. Mary drove a Bronco, but the family also had another 4x4, with big snow tires and a plow attachment, that they called their "winter rat." (This was back in the day, kids, when SUVs were not common everyday cars.) Mary couldn't figure out why we closed schools when we only had six inches of snow.

By the time Charlie was done I had it figured out. "Before you were stationed at the Pentagon," I asked him, "How many times had you seen snow?"

He'd seen it a couple of times, he said.

And how many times had he driven in snow, I asked. (We worked for a lawyer. We could cross-examine.)

He admitted that the first time he'd driven in snow he was in D.C.

Then I told him about Mary. Then I concluded, and I still believe this firmly, that the problem with Washington and snow is not Washingtonians, it's the incompatibility between the southerners who've never seen snow and the northerners who think that for anything less that three feet it isn't worth slowing down. If everyone who hasn't lived here since they learned to drive at 16 stayed off the road in bad weather, we'd be just fine.

Karma

There's a book out called Karma 101. I saw a review that said

This guide will help you avoid bad karma, generate good karma, and more. Peppered with engrossing anecdotes and Karmic Do's & Don'ts (Do move a turtle out of the road; Don't drive by and think "bummer to be the turtle"), this fun guide to karmic basics will help you live your best in this life and the next.

That reminds me of a story...

Victor and I were out in the country doing car support for friends on a day-long bike ride. (It was out towards the mountains, too hilly for those of us with bad knees.) Anyway, because we were keeping an eye on the riders we were moving pretty slow, but the occasional other drivers weren't. I spotted a huge turtle ahead in a road barely two lanes wide. I had visions of him being caught under the wheel of an SUV, so I had Victor stop.

The turtle was almost as big as a dinner plate. Of course when I touched him he drew back in his shell, but I picked him up. Victor was stopped right behind, with the hazard flashers on in the car, and he says he heard me say "It's okay sweetie I'll help you OH YOU SONUVABITCH!"

That's probably pretty close to what I said, too. Because when I picked that turtle up, he kept his head and legs in his shell, but he let loose with the most unbelievable stream of urine I've ever seen come out of any animal. I held him out at arms length, but he still soaked my legs, including my socks.

Now, I didn't blame the turtle at all. If I were crossing a street at my normal pace and suddenly some giant hoisted me up, I'd probably piss all over his feet too.

And no, I didn't drop him. That would not have been good karma.

A few more links

Here are just a few more links related to World AIDS Day:

The World Health Organization announced the Three by Five Initiative with the goal of getting three million infected people on antiretroviral therapy by 2005.

Treating the disease is one part of the equation, prevention is another. The International AIDS Vaccine Initiative has the good news and the challenges in the effort to find a vaccine for HIV.

And "Link and Think" calls for bloggers to use today to talk about HIV/AIDS. (I didn't know about this page 'til about five minutes ago. What a coincidence, eh?)