"You Must Obey."

If any of you are Hotmail users, you're probably seeing ads touting a weight-loss "rule" that "You Must Obey!" This same advertisement appears on other sites, too, but Hotmail is where I see it most. The accompanying photos change from time to time, but the message does not.

A photo of a face-forward, moderately plump woman set above a photo of what appears to be the same woman, drastically smaller, standing at the classic size-minimizing angle.

"You Must Obey."

I hit the Refresh button, and the ad comes right back. This time, the illustration is a leggy cartoon woman in a purple T-shirt and panties.

"1 Rule You Must Obey."

Sometimes, the emphasis changes: "You MUST Obey!" "You must OBEY!"

Why?

I will not click the ad. I don't want those responsible for it to be encouraged by site traffic.

Obey. Be good. Get thinner. Work harder. Cut your hair. Wear this.

Don't eat dessert. Don't ask for sex. Don't laugh so loudly. Don't ask for more.

Deny yourself. Deny your Self.


No.

.

Rhubarb Shortcake

For many years, we had a rhubarb plant growing on the north side of our yard. We used to dare each other to bite into a freshly-plucked stalk, knowing how dreadfully sour it would be. Thinking of it now, the inside of my mouth cringes and waters. In The First Four Years, Laura Ingalls Wilder wrote of her mortification at realizing the "pieplant" pie she baked for the hired threshers had no sugar in it; one kind-hearted man sugared his own slice, claiming that he liked it that way because everyone could sweeten the pie as much or as little as he liked.

My mother often made stewed rhubarb, which she served with shortcake, ladled over ice cream, and my father sometimes ate plain, from a bowl (or from the jar!) with a spoon. She also made rhubarb cobbler, about which I sometimes dream. It was so very delicious and so simple, just rhubarb in an 8x8 square pan, covered with a streusel of butter, brown sugar, rolled oats, and a sprinkle of cinnamon, baked for 20 minutes or so. Technically, I guess it was a "crumble" rather than a "cobbler," but a rose by any other name...

Stewed Rhubarb

4 cups rhubarb, chopped
2/3-3/4 cup sugar (really, to taste)
1/4 cup water

Put rhubarb and water in a medium saucepan. Pour the sugar over the rhubarb, mixing well. Cook over medium heat, stirring occasionally (and watching that it doesn't burn), until soft. Serve warm, or refrigerate and serve cold on yogurt or oatmeal.

Projects and Cake

I didn't make cake last weekend.  Instead, I'm going to make it this weekend.  In the meantime, I have several crochet projects to finish: tiny clothes for my sister's daughter.  We're expecting her to arrive at any moment.  My sister is under doctor's orders to relax, in order to delay labor (she's been to the hospital once already).  

In July, I will be playing the harp in public for the first time in four years.  I've neglected it dreadfully, but my beautiful instrument has painful associations now (mostly tied to what I wrote about last time).  This is another thing I'm taking back.  I keep finding things to take back to myself, wash clean, and make mine again.  More heavy lifting.  I am thankful for the help I've been given.

During lunch, I visited the ballet school and obtained a schedule.  The lady I spoke with there had silver hair swept back from her elegantly boned face; she was working on something with a sewing machine.  I told her that I wanted to join the adult introductory class, and she was very gracious and, thank heaven, didn't laugh at my short-legged, heavy-muscled, big-breasted body.  I peeked into the studio itself and oh, the beautiful blond floor and the barre!  I can make this happen.  

I treated myself to a few essential oils, the better to create a natural skin care regimen.  The products I've ordered through the mail has been either severely delayed or stolen, and is more expensive than I'd like anyway.  The sugar scrub recipe from Little House in the Suburbs has been working really well; I used calendula and chamomile flowers instead of basil, mixed with olive oil, turbinado sugar, and tea tree, lavender, and blue cypress essential oils.  My skin feels soft, but not oily (always a problem this time of year).  Tonight, I'll try my herb-infused cider vinegar toner; my hair likes it, so I have high hopes for my skin.  

What are all of you up to?

Coming Out: The Emancipation of Artemis

About The Emancipation of Artemis, created by Jennifer Summer, from Jennifer's journal:

i have been blessed in my life with an extremely large extended family -- my friends.

i realized one day that out of all these women, i can count on one hand the number of them who have not had an experience with abuse in some form or another.

i realized that i had spent a large portion of my childhood in hospital waiting rooms, watching a close family member endure numerous operations and countless health problems due to the acts of one malicious, psychotic attacker.

i realized just how widely spread this epidemic has become.

and then i decided to do something about it.

i don't have the qualifications to assist in a professional, controlled environment, but i do have passion and an ability to express myself artistically, and i began to brainstorm a way in which i could combine those two things in order to make an impact.

and now, several years later, that dream has come to fruition. through the efforts of not only myself but my wide circle of kindred spirit chosen family, we have joined our voices together as a chorus for change.

and, thus, the emancipation of artemis was born. right now it is a single benefit that will be held at the york st. cafe in newport, ky on friday, june 5th (7 p.m. - 10 p.m.) and will feature a photography exhibit, live music, poetry readings, guest speakers and an art sale. the talented people in the 'contributing artists' section have all donated their original work to be sold, and the individuals in the 'performers' section of 'the event' menu will be lending their talents during the show.

every single dime raised will go directly to RAINN so that they may continue to do the amazing work that they do for people all over the united states.

but my dream is for artemis to become a global organization; for artists around the world to hold their own events and raise money for groups such as RAINN that help those who need it most. and, in light of what has been accomplished thus far, i believe that dream is an attainable one.

eight women have bravely come forward and opened themselves up -- they've shared their story and shown their face. they are not victims. they are not dreary, they are not tragic. they are triumphant. they are survivors. they are warriors.

they are living proof that we are so much more than just the sum of our experiences.

---

Since you'd figure it out anyway when you go to the Artemis site and click through the gallery, I'll just tell you: I am one of the eight women whose portrait and story is part of the exhibit. 

I wasn't able to travel to be photographed by Jennifer herself, so she asked me to send her a photo from my portfolio. I selected one taken on my wedding day, by Karen Varnas.  Partly because I didn't get photographed by Jennifer (and therefore, the image doesn't "match" the others), and partly because my story is the longest, I feel like I did it wrong somehow.  It's the anxiety brought on by telling a bit of what happened.  

Reading my own words, my cheeks burn with shame.  I'm afraid for people to know this about me, that it will hang over every time I meet them.  That they will wonder what I did to bring it on myself.  That they don't know that I sometimes want to know that, too; for someone to treat me so badly, there must be a good reason, something terrible that I did.  I used to wonder if there was an invisible sign on me that invited men to try things on me, without my permission. Maybe they could see that I had been wounded while very young, and wanted very much to be loved.  

Please don't misunderstand me.  I am happy beyond what I thought was possible.  I know that the way I was treated was not my fault.  I am lucky enough to love and be loved by my best friend of nearly sixteen years.  I had long since accepted that a gray veil would hang between me and the world -- it's just how my brain works, I thought.  After my diagnosis and thyroidectomy, I knew differently, and I saw clearly that the way I was being treated was wrong, wrong, wrong.  I tried to imagine a good friend in my position, and thought of what I would tell her.  In the end (or is it the beginning?), I did exactly what I would have told my hypothetical friend: called my mom, packed a U-Haul, and got the hell out of there. 

Jenn herself was of immeasurable help and comfort to me while I was struggling with what I wrote about for the exhibit.  I still keep on my desk a photo she took of a single daisy, standing tall in a field. She captioned it: "It doesn't matter where you've been. What matters is where you are now." Looking at it, meditating on it, helps me to re-anchor myself in my joyous present. 

I forget sometimes that the Bad Old Days can never return.  Sometimes, they do still cast long, frightening shadows, but those shadows grow fainter every time I glimpse them.  I am grateful to be out, to be away, to be home.  In the night when I am afraid, I reach out and find my best friend, my beloved husband, sleeping there under blankets beside me.  I feel my own face, my beautiful long hair, the ridge of scar tissue at my throat, and I know who I am, where I am, and I am no longer afraid.  

Getting out, getting away, going home, I had help.  I reached out, and so many hands reached back to me. Among them were Jennifer's hands, loving and fierce.  She is a beautiful soul, a very talented artist, and this work she is doing is of immense importance.

And if you're struggling like I was, or at all, don't be afraid to ask for help.  Or, be afraid if you have to be, but ask despite the fear.  It's worth it, I promise you.

The Emancipation of Artemis:  Artists United to End Violence Against Women
Friday, June 5 2009
7-10pm (music begins at 8pm)
York Street Cafe
Newport, KY

RAINN
National Domestic Violence Hotline
HopeLine - 1-800-SUICIDE

xoxo

Jiffy Mix

While riding in the car from my maternal grandfather's home in Holt, to visit my paternal grandfather in Clinton, I was always excited to see the silos of the Chelsea Milling Company looming up along M-52. It felt a lot like glimpsing a beloved film star.


We almost always had a box of Jiffy Baking Mix in our house when I was a little girl. Invented by Mabel White Holmes about 1930, it was the very first prepared baking mix. My mother made pot pie crust and pasties with it, along with drop biscuits, shortcakes and pancakes. When I was in middle school and learning to bake, I liked to make the cake recipe from the back of the box. It made one layer of delicious vanilla cake that I loved to eat warm, with a glass of cold milk.

One of my favorite food memories is of smelling the warm, cinnamon aroma of a Jiffy coffee cake baking, knowing how good it would taste when Mom finally declared it cool enough to slice and served us each a piece. I still make this cake from time to time (probably not often enough), and it's still simply delicious.


Coffee Cake

Batter:
2 cups "JIFFY" Baking Mix
3 Tbsp. sugar
3/4 cup milk
1 egg, slightly beaten
2 Tbsp. shortening, melted (I use butter - MB)

Topping:
1 Tbsp. "JIFFY" Baking Mix
1/4 cup sugar
2 tsp. cinnamon
2 Tbsp. margarine or butter
1/2 cup chopped nuts

Preheat oven to 350°, grease 8" square pan.

Blend together batter ingredients and spread into prepared pan. Combine topping ingredients (use cold butter and a pastry blender to keep the streusel crumbly - MB) and sprinkle over batter. Bake 25-30 minutes. Serve warm.


What could be simpler? The recipe doubles easily, too. So delicious.

Here's the cake recipe, too. I plan to make this one this weekend, and to eat it with berries and orange sections. It's such a good, simple treat.

Old-Fashioned Cake
makes one single-layer cake

1-1/2 cups "JIFFY" Baking Mix
3/4 cup sugar
2/3 cup milk
1 egg
2 Tbsp. shortening, softened (again, I always used butter - MB)
1 tsp. vanilla

Preheat oven to 375°, grease, flour and line 8" round pan, with wax paper. (Cut wax paper slightly smaller than pan.)

Combine all ingredients and beat 2 minutes. Pour batter into prepared pan. Bake 25-30 minutes. Cool in pan for 10 minutes. Remove from pan and let cool completely before serving.

---

Eat, and be happy.

Running Through

More recipes at Stephanie Tourles' blog.

Little House in the Suburbs is my new playground. It's full of lotsa ideas to keep it cheap, green, and real.

I'm around, just working hard and feeling somewhat uninspired. My sister's baby is due in a few weeks and I'm crocheting my fingers off.

See you tomorrow!

Memorial Day

World War II by Alberto Vargas