You will be getting a nice long snail mail letter from me, if you haven't already. The calendars are getting ready to fly out the door too.
Sam at Self Growth is hatching our new web site. I am not the Official Tarot Guide at Self Growth, and that community will be sending traffic (people who want to talk to me, clients!) to the web site. Its address will be http://www.emilysinsight.net.
A THIRD tractor trailer load of hay - dairy quality hay - is stacked in one-ton bales for the animals to enjoy all winter. They are fat and happy, sleek and sassy, thanks to YOU talking to me.
The llama have produced three little ones. Llama have a community and they are very openly sentimental: They all gather around the newly born and welcome him or her into the world and into their family. See their pictures on Facebook (Emily Sandstrom) among the other pictures of the place.
We have had to move all the elk into one pen; they had two. Earth tremors, tiny ones, have snapped 5-inch diameter fence poles, and stretched and ruined very heavy high-tensile wire. Replacing this fence will be a huge expense this coming year. The pen will be smaller because we aren't going to put the new poles where the disaster happened.
We discover an across-the-street neighbor, a scion of rural royalty, and a surly ill bred Fish and Game Officer have been calling the agency that regulates us, the Agricultural Department, and making up evil stories about us. They have not succeeded in doing any damage; in fact, they have established our credibility. Stay tuned for the next exciting episode. The Agricultural Department are gentlemen.
More news later.
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Monday, September 14, 2009
to YOU: from Emily:
Now that I have learned how one posts to this, I will be doing it regularly. You can see some of these articles at http://www.Ezines.com
and
http://www.SelfGrowth.com
If I have your email address, I will send you a link to join Self Growth. I think you will like it, there is so much there and something for everyone.
We have bought one tractor trailer load of GREAT HAY (dairy quality!) so Thank You!
Now that I have learned how one posts to this, I will be doing it regularly. You can see some of these articles at http://www.Ezines.com
and
http://www.SelfGrowth.com
If I have your email address, I will send you a link to join Self Growth. I think you will like it, there is so much there and something for everyone.
We have bought one tractor trailer load of GREAT HAY (dairy quality!) so Thank You!
Chicken Wing Drumettes with Your Barbecue Sauce
Barbecue Sauce Beneficial
on
Chicken Wing Drumettes
Easy barbecue sauce is not only healthful, not only easy, but it clings thickly to the food, isn't sugary, and is mouthwatering.
Get out your blender. Fetch a head of jumbo garlic, your best friend. Keep this a secret: You don't have to peel the individual cloves, no one will know! Put the cloves in the blender.
Shake a bottle of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce: That is the one that has the antique-looking paper from top to bottom. Lea & Perrins is the ONLY Worcestershire sauce: It has tamarind and other magic ingredients. Pour the black liquid to just under the tips of the garlic cloves – which will probably be about a cup out of the bottle. (Garlic cloves are in the blender, remember?)
Liquefy into a thickly frothy black gunk. Black gold it is. This is your barbecue sauce. Just make what you will use each time.
It does not taste like garlic or like Worcestershire sauce.
Chicken Wing Drumettes
Pour some of the sauce in a toaster oven size shallow pan. Put the package of chicken pieces close together but not crowding one another. Pour the rest of the sauce on them.
Bake in the oven at 350° for about half an hour (This time is from memory, chicken wing drumettes don't live in the wilderness one-horse grocery store here. If you want to know whether food is done, just sniff: The smell happens when the food is ready most all the time.
This meal is wonderful served on white rice. Taken to a potluck dinner, it will be the first to go and everyone will want the recipe.
One package of chicken wing pieces will serve two or three souls.
Or they can be glorious hors d'oeuvres.
on
Chicken Wing Drumettes
Easy barbecue sauce is not only healthful, not only easy, but it clings thickly to the food, isn't sugary, and is mouthwatering.
Get out your blender. Fetch a head of jumbo garlic, your best friend. Keep this a secret: You don't have to peel the individual cloves, no one will know! Put the cloves in the blender.
Shake a bottle of Lea & Perrins Worcestershire Sauce: That is the one that has the antique-looking paper from top to bottom. Lea & Perrins is the ONLY Worcestershire sauce: It has tamarind and other magic ingredients. Pour the black liquid to just under the tips of the garlic cloves – which will probably be about a cup out of the bottle. (Garlic cloves are in the blender, remember?)
Liquefy into a thickly frothy black gunk. Black gold it is. This is your barbecue sauce. Just make what you will use each time.
It does not taste like garlic or like Worcestershire sauce.
Chicken Wing Drumettes
Pour some of the sauce in a toaster oven size shallow pan. Put the package of chicken pieces close together but not crowding one another. Pour the rest of the sauce on them.
Bake in the oven at 350° for about half an hour (This time is from memory, chicken wing drumettes don't live in the wilderness one-horse grocery store here. If you want to know whether food is done, just sniff: The smell happens when the food is ready most all the time.
This meal is wonderful served on white rice. Taken to a potluck dinner, it will be the first to go and everyone will want the recipe.
One package of chicken wing pieces will serve two or three souls.
Or they can be glorious hors d'oeuvres.
Do it Yourself Diet for Life that Makes you Happy and You Can't Cheat on
Do it Yourself Diet for Life
that You Can't Cheat on,
that makes YOU happy.
Spend two weeks deep in thought about what your favorite foods are. All your favorite foods. Including junk foods, alcohol . . . think, think, because we don't eat our favorite foods just like we don't live the life we would prefer. Example: You love canned pineapple, but classify it as a dessert, and you seldom eat desserts.
While you are thinking, eat up what is in the house and buy favorite foods, putting the ones you don't have to cook AT EYE LEVEL.
Next stage is two weeks of fitting favorite foods into the way you cook, if you cook – into your lifestyle; combining them together. Example: that pineapple blended with pureed garbanzo beans, relish, a little horseradish, and crushed pineapple put into pita bread with grated cheddar cheese.
While you are thinking the second two weeks, continue buying favorite foods and putting them where your eyes trip over them. You will walk into the kitchen hungry and not reach for junk you don't want; you will reach for what you truly do want. Don't forget the simplest things like lettuce and tomato sandwiches.
You ease into this diet; it takes time. Remember you are not consciously trimming calories or fat or any other thing unless you WANT to at the moment
.
As you eat primarily the foods and the meals you enjoy, strange things happen. One, food ceases to be an issue: Anytime you want, you walk into your kitchen and eat something you like. As the food ceases to be an issue, you eat less: magic. Two, YOU BECOME HAPPY!!!!!!!!! Your body is happy, and it takes you with it. Not temporarily.
A happy consequence of this diet is your weight becomes what is normal for you. I invented this diet because I was so busy not because I was so chubby. And I lost 12 pounds over a few weeks.
All these things happened to me when I did this, and to all others who did; but that is only a few souls. There's a rumor of a similar diet that simply says: Eat only what you want when you want it, don't eat out of boredom, etc. In this diet, you can eat out of any motive in your vocabulary.
One day on this diet, I ate a huge bag of potato chips and three beers, in the sun sitting on a picnic table on a perfect day when the phone did not ring. I did not cheat on my diet that day, and I was soooo happy. I ate nothing else. I still remember that day.
that You Can't Cheat on,
that makes YOU happy.
Spend two weeks deep in thought about what your favorite foods are. All your favorite foods. Including junk foods, alcohol . . . think, think, because we don't eat our favorite foods just like we don't live the life we would prefer. Example: You love canned pineapple, but classify it as a dessert, and you seldom eat desserts.
While you are thinking, eat up what is in the house and buy favorite foods, putting the ones you don't have to cook AT EYE LEVEL.
Next stage is two weeks of fitting favorite foods into the way you cook, if you cook – into your lifestyle; combining them together. Example: that pineapple blended with pureed garbanzo beans, relish, a little horseradish, and crushed pineapple put into pita bread with grated cheddar cheese.
While you are thinking the second two weeks, continue buying favorite foods and putting them where your eyes trip over them. You will walk into the kitchen hungry and not reach for junk you don't want; you will reach for what you truly do want. Don't forget the simplest things like lettuce and tomato sandwiches.
You ease into this diet; it takes time. Remember you are not consciously trimming calories or fat or any other thing unless you WANT to at the moment
.
As you eat primarily the foods and the meals you enjoy, strange things happen. One, food ceases to be an issue: Anytime you want, you walk into your kitchen and eat something you like. As the food ceases to be an issue, you eat less: magic. Two, YOU BECOME HAPPY!!!!!!!!! Your body is happy, and it takes you with it. Not temporarily.
A happy consequence of this diet is your weight becomes what is normal for you. I invented this diet because I was so busy not because I was so chubby. And I lost 12 pounds over a few weeks.
All these things happened to me when I did this, and to all others who did; but that is only a few souls. There's a rumor of a similar diet that simply says: Eat only what you want when you want it, don't eat out of boredom, etc. In this diet, you can eat out of any motive in your vocabulary.
One day on this diet, I ate a huge bag of potato chips and three beers, in the sun sitting on a picnic table on a perfect day when the phone did not ring. I did not cheat on my diet that day, and I was soooo happy. I ate nothing else. I still remember that day.
Leadership: Tale of Two Cats, Tale of Two Dogs
Tale of Two Cats and Two Dogs:
Owly and his sidekick Iggy.
Molly and her sidekick Li'l Dude.
The same story.
Molly was a Jerry Lee type of German Sheppard: the medium brown body and black muzzle. She was from the pound, a young adult who had lived in the truck of an unemployed homeless rural western dude, with him. Molly hunted animals for his dinner and presumably shared it. She was a proud cold dog, a good watch dog, but not to be trusted with the ducks before I beat that out of her. She was the leader.
Li'l Dude was a starving abused infested stray from a convenience store on an Indian reservation. Molly had been here for a while when Li'l Dude showed up: It was the German's turf. Li'l Dude was partly the same kind of Sheppard Molly was and partly something smaller, possibly Pit Bull. People thought he was her pup, they looked so much alike. How he loved his bossy woman. The new arrival would not wear a collar for a year, and he chewed other dogs' collars off their necks. I guessed someone held him by his collar and beat him.
He cringed. When you petted him, he made noises like you were torturing him: They sounded vicious at the same time, snarling.
He was the follower. He whined a lot. He barked at random.
Likewise, Owly was the older cat. Both he and Iggy were the products of a Himalayan Gentle-cat visiting the feral peasant pussies of the ranch: cats who were genetically distinct and native to the continent: slender, longer tails, razor-sharp claws, elongated faces, very short fur and long legs: truly wild and not tamable by ordinary effort. Over the years, the Himalayan blood gentled down the gene pool, so that Owly – so named because his fur was so dense that when he turned his head it was like an owl turning its head: feathers straight out – Owly walked into the house and did not straightaway poop on the floor. He did get around to it, but I decided to tame him because he was gorgeous. Taming was a mutual ordeal.
Iggy was smaller and not as striking-looking, but here was another peasant who did not poop on the floor at all. Iggy was the lesser, he deferred to his boss cat. He looked like a pale imitation of the older resident: less distinct markings, shorter fur, softer gray and white than his cohort.
Molly and Owly shared the same fate: murdered by the western rural rubes who prey upon the pet animals of their betters.
Li'l Dude became the dog every man wanted and admired: He guards mommy and the ranch expertly, giving intelligent warning where before he had barked at random. He is now a prize who was the sidekick of his mate.
Iggy became the head cat of a pride of (now tame) kitties: 8 of them a close affectionate family.
It was not until Iggy became diabetic and went to live with the vet because the burdens of leadership were too great for his failing body that I realized how powerful a force he was among the cat family: They lost their political unity, going each his own way: No more eight-to-a-cuddle-heap. Iggy had taken over Owly's leadership position so seamlessly that no one noticed his achievement.
It is fascinating to realize that, but for the deaths of Molly and Owly, L'il Dude and Iggy would have remained vice presidents, and not developed the full personality that arises from responsibility.
Do you know someone this may be true of?
Owly and his sidekick Iggy.
Molly and her sidekick Li'l Dude.
The same story.
Molly was a Jerry Lee type of German Sheppard: the medium brown body and black muzzle. She was from the pound, a young adult who had lived in the truck of an unemployed homeless rural western dude, with him. Molly hunted animals for his dinner and presumably shared it. She was a proud cold dog, a good watch dog, but not to be trusted with the ducks before I beat that out of her. She was the leader.
Li'l Dude was a starving abused infested stray from a convenience store on an Indian reservation. Molly had been here for a while when Li'l Dude showed up: It was the German's turf. Li'l Dude was partly the same kind of Sheppard Molly was and partly something smaller, possibly Pit Bull. People thought he was her pup, they looked so much alike. How he loved his bossy woman. The new arrival would not wear a collar for a year, and he chewed other dogs' collars off their necks. I guessed someone held him by his collar and beat him.
He cringed. When you petted him, he made noises like you were torturing him: They sounded vicious at the same time, snarling.
He was the follower. He whined a lot. He barked at random.
Likewise, Owly was the older cat. Both he and Iggy were the products of a Himalayan Gentle-cat visiting the feral peasant pussies of the ranch: cats who were genetically distinct and native to the continent: slender, longer tails, razor-sharp claws, elongated faces, very short fur and long legs: truly wild and not tamable by ordinary effort. Over the years, the Himalayan blood gentled down the gene pool, so that Owly – so named because his fur was so dense that when he turned his head it was like an owl turning its head: feathers straight out – Owly walked into the house and did not straightaway poop on the floor. He did get around to it, but I decided to tame him because he was gorgeous. Taming was a mutual ordeal.
Iggy was smaller and not as striking-looking, but here was another peasant who did not poop on the floor at all. Iggy was the lesser, he deferred to his boss cat. He looked like a pale imitation of the older resident: less distinct markings, shorter fur, softer gray and white than his cohort.
Molly and Owly shared the same fate: murdered by the western rural rubes who prey upon the pet animals of their betters.
Li'l Dude became the dog every man wanted and admired: He guards mommy and the ranch expertly, giving intelligent warning where before he had barked at random. He is now a prize who was the sidekick of his mate.
Iggy became the head cat of a pride of (now tame) kitties: 8 of them a close affectionate family.
It was not until Iggy became diabetic and went to live with the vet because the burdens of leadership were too great for his failing body that I realized how powerful a force he was among the cat family: They lost their political unity, going each his own way: No more eight-to-a-cuddle-heap. Iggy had taken over Owly's leadership position so seamlessly that no one noticed his achievement.
It is fascinating to realize that, but for the deaths of Molly and Owly, L'il Dude and Iggy would have remained vice presidents, and not developed the full personality that arises from responsibility.
Do you know someone this may be true of?
Instant Deviled Egg Sandwich
Instant Deviled Egg Sandwich
Everyone should keep hard boiled eggs in the refrigerator; they make a better snack than a midnight candy bar.
And everyone should have sweet mustard relish in their refrigerator; it is so good on so many things besides hot dogs and hamburgers. And this is one of them.
All you do is slice or quarter hard boiled eggs, however many you want in your sandwich – two is my number. Cover two slices of whole wheat toast with the relish, put the eggs in between, and enjoy.
If you are the ambitious conscientious type, you can mix the egg with the relish, and then put that combination on the sandwich. Purist!
Either way, the deviled egg taste is exact.
Everyone should keep hard boiled eggs in the refrigerator; they make a better snack than a midnight candy bar.
And everyone should have sweet mustard relish in their refrigerator; it is so good on so many things besides hot dogs and hamburgers. And this is one of them.
All you do is slice or quarter hard boiled eggs, however many you want in your sandwich – two is my number. Cover two slices of whole wheat toast with the relish, put the eggs in between, and enjoy.
If you are the ambitious conscientious type, you can mix the egg with the relish, and then put that combination on the sandwich. Purist!
Either way, the deviled egg taste is exact.
You and the Lottery Spirit: A Meeting of Minds
How to Win the Lottery
Trying to pick the winning number is going about it backasswards. This story is how to win in any type of gamble but of course it doesn't guarantee you will succeed any given incident. It may work for gambles in business and in getting away with your mischief, but I am less sure of that.
General Motors does not exist. Governments do not exist. They are on paper and they are in our heads but you can't say 'this is General Motors.' If we all woke up one morning and did not know what government was, there would be no government, until a thug got together with a bureaucrat and invented taxation. Likewise there is a lottery entity in mass consciousness, and this is as valid an entity as General Motors or a government.
Quite often people who win will say “I just knew this time I was going to win.” And people do things like blow on the dice.
You get in touch with The Lottery Spirit, who is probably related to the Muse. You address this entity and tell it to honor your choices. Instead of you getting the right number, the right number comes looking for you. Much cleaner. It doesn't work if you don't buy the ticket, though, or pull the lever.
Exactly how you get in touch with the Lottery Spirit is up to you. If you keep trying, the magic instant of connection may come to you, hopefully in a lottery that has a lovely payoff. But winning small ones is practice!
Try it, you have nothing to lose and it's fun. (If you win, send me a dollar!)
Trying to pick the winning number is going about it backasswards. This story is how to win in any type of gamble but of course it doesn't guarantee you will succeed any given incident. It may work for gambles in business and in getting away with your mischief, but I am less sure of that.
General Motors does not exist. Governments do not exist. They are on paper and they are in our heads but you can't say 'this is General Motors.' If we all woke up one morning and did not know what government was, there would be no government, until a thug got together with a bureaucrat and invented taxation. Likewise there is a lottery entity in mass consciousness, and this is as valid an entity as General Motors or a government.
Quite often people who win will say “I just knew this time I was going to win.” And people do things like blow on the dice.
You get in touch with The Lottery Spirit, who is probably related to the Muse. You address this entity and tell it to honor your choices. Instead of you getting the right number, the right number comes looking for you. Much cleaner. It doesn't work if you don't buy the ticket, though, or pull the lever.
Exactly how you get in touch with the Lottery Spirit is up to you. If you keep trying, the magic instant of connection may come to you, hopefully in a lottery that has a lovely payoff. But winning small ones is practice!
Try it, you have nothing to lose and it's fun. (If you win, send me a dollar!)
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