I was just reminded of something that happened Sunday night & while I wasn’t laughing at the time, I can now.
Artis’ brother, Mont, headed out for the night and said he wasn't going to be home until the next morning. Artis went to sleep & I was sitting in bed reading emails, but decided to leave Tobi out on her floor pillow for a while, with plans to put her in her crate when I was ready to go to sleep. Since Mont was gone & no one else was going to be in the house to rile up the girls, I left the bedroom doors open. And that was a mistake.
A little after midnight, both girls completely flipped out and started barking. I hadn’t heard a single thing to set them off. (When the garage door opens, for instance, you can hear it upstairs since it’s right underneath the master bathroom.) So, I told them to knock it off. That didn’t work and before I could even stand up, they were both out the bedroom doors and down the stairs! Tobi still isn't supposed to run or do stairs, so I went running after them. As I was heading down the stairs, I screamed, "Bitches, get your furry little asses back up here!" That didn’t deter them and they rounded the corner towards the family room and hallway that leads to the garage. I went running across the living room & dining room and right as I was about to round the corner, I saw the silhouette of a man coming in my direction. I let out a scream...and then realized the silhouette was of a man holding Tobi…and then realized that man was Mont, who had come home after all. He came in through the garage & I didn’t have the TV on or anything, so I don’t know how I missed hearing him, but the girls were sure on top of it.
Artis came downstairs a minute or so later & said that he had wanted me to go down first to face whatever scary thing was lurking there so he didn’t have to. He’s continually telling me that he doesn’t think I’d be good at defending myself if I needed to, so I thought that was rather interesting. So, I reminded him that I once took a Facebook quiz that determined that if I were in a horror movie, I’d be the one who survives. (He doubts its validity, but whatev. It came through Facebook; it must be true.) He said, “Right. Because running downstairs all by yourself in the dark & then standing there screaming when you see someone walking towards you is certainly behavior a horror movie survivor displays.” Whatever. I know I’d totally survive.
Anyway, Tobi got put in her crate for the night, I shut the bedroom doors so Matza couldn’t go running off again, and I went to sleep…with a baseball bat close by. Afterall, what horror movie survivor doesn’t have a baseball bat close to them?!
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
Monday, August 16, 2010
Really? I mean really??
Greetings & salutations!
So, this weekend held a pretty full social calendar & lots of errands/to-do tasks. (It was to the point it all blurred together & I had to ask Artis last night what day it was. He, of course, thought I'd lost my mind--and I had. I literally could not remember what day it was & if I needed to get up early this morning. Sadly, I did. I hate getting up early.) In the mix of birthday parties, weddings and trips to the mall & every store known to man (aside from Wal-Mart, of course, as I'm now on my way to hitting my two-year anniversary of boycotting the place), we had a wedding dinner to attend for my former roommate, Erik, and his lovely now-wife, Kate. It was an absolutely beautiful ceremony at Duke Chapel, with the sun coming through all of the huge stained-glass windows so perfectly. The ceremony itself was truly personalized to them & their mixed beliefs & it was done really well. Artis' favorite part was the reading from "The Velveteen Rabbit". My favorite part not related to the ceremony was the organist playing "Canon in D" & "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring". It was amazing to hear it coming from all of the huge pipes all over the place. Anyway, it was followed by a dinner back in Raleigh, at which we were assigned to lucky table #13.
The food was fantastic & plentiful (just how it should be), the decorations were beautiful (they did black & white as their colors; white hydrangeas on black tablecloths looked particularly cool), and overall the company was great...except for the guy immediately to my left. I was not a fan of him. I don't even recall his name, but that's not relevant because I can certainly recall his actions.
It all started with him thinking that every word out of his mouth needed to be heard--and there were plenty--by the whole room and that every one of those same words was beyond hilarious. His one cue should have been when his girlfriend (bless her heart for dating him & being seen in public with him) turned to him and said, "Honey, no one cares." But, gentle reader, that was not enough for him. He missed the cue and kept on going. While I could regale you with stories of his horribleness, there are two funnies upon which I choose to focus:
1) The water glass. Artis & I were there before Slob (that's what we shall call him) and his girlfriend, Pitied, so I'd had a chance to drink from my water glass. Keep in mind that I'm addicted to Burt's Bees lip balm, so most glasses I drink from end up with a lip print. The glass on Saturday night was no different. Not only did it have my lip print on the edge, but it was half-empty too. Did this stop friend Slob from mistakenly confiscating my glass? No. Did it stop friend Slob from drinking from it? No. Did I attempt to stop friend Slob from doing so? No. OK, so I didn't stop him because I didn't see him with my glass until after the fact. I went to reach for my glass & realized it wasn't where I left it. That's when I put it all together. So, I told Artis to use the now-spare glass of water to the right of what should be his glass & I'd use his so that we were back on track. He said he didn't know if the glass next to him had been used (it hadn't--it was filled to the brim & lip print free), so to stake claim over his glass, he drank a little from it. For some silly reason he thought that would stop me. It didn't. I said, "Oh, thanks for testing it for me." And with that, I took his glass for myself, drank from it, & he had to get the new one. (Don't feel too bad for him--there was an open bar & he'd taken advantage of it, so the water glass wasn't the only beverage in front of him.)
B) The butter incident. I find butter to be one of those tricky things when eating in public. When too solid, one tears the bread while trying to spread it (trick: if it's an individual pat in a foil wrap, put it between your hands for a little bit; your body heat will warm it up enough to where it's spreadable & the foil will keep it from getting on your hands. I find I have to do this most frequently at The Cheesecake Factory, where they pretty much serve frozen butter every time.) or the butter breaks apart and little bits go all over the table (or on your clothes). When melted completely, it's all-too-easy to flick it while dipping & thus get oil spots on your shirt and the tablecloth. So, I thoroughly enjoy a nice whipped butter that is easily spreadable and not too soft. That was what was served at the dinner. It was perfect.
I passed the bread basket to Slob & he grabbed his roll and got a knife full of butter. He spread the butter on the roll, but then still had some left on the knife. At this point, a normal person would put the knife on the edge of their plate, use the butter on something else on the plate (like the roasted vegetables, for instance), or even scrape the remaining butter onto the edge of the plate if need be. Not Slob. No, no. Slob did one better--he took that knife & showed the tablecloth who's boss. Yep--he smeared his knife back and forth on the black tablecloth, leaving streaks of butter roughly 8-10" long to the right of his plate. I kid you not. It was one of those moments when you question your own sanity & if you really did just see what you thought you saw. I elbowed Artis; he looked over & his jaw dropped. That's when I knew I wasn't seeing things.
Combined with the girl across the table from me who says she isn't used to going to "those types of fancy functions" and didn't know which fork to use (there were two forks...the salad fork and the dinner fork. Not too difficult.), but said that it was because she was too busy in her line of work, saving lives as a CNA. I'm sure she does a great job & all, but really? Can't learn what a salad fork is compared to a dinner fork because you're a CNA?? Wow.
Anyway, it was a rather interesting dining experience, but we did have a great time overall & really enjoyed visiting with the two girls next to us and the guy seated between Pitied and CNA. They were all quite nice people...and they weren't using the tablecloth as their personal plate.
So, this weekend held a pretty full social calendar & lots of errands/to-do tasks. (It was to the point it all blurred together & I had to ask Artis last night what day it was. He, of course, thought I'd lost my mind--and I had. I literally could not remember what day it was & if I needed to get up early this morning. Sadly, I did. I hate getting up early.) In the mix of birthday parties, weddings and trips to the mall & every store known to man (aside from Wal-Mart, of course, as I'm now on my way to hitting my two-year anniversary of boycotting the place), we had a wedding dinner to attend for my former roommate, Erik, and his lovely now-wife, Kate. It was an absolutely beautiful ceremony at Duke Chapel, with the sun coming through all of the huge stained-glass windows so perfectly. The ceremony itself was truly personalized to them & their mixed beliefs & it was done really well. Artis' favorite part was the reading from "The Velveteen Rabbit". My favorite part not related to the ceremony was the organist playing "Canon in D" & "Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring". It was amazing to hear it coming from all of the huge pipes all over the place. Anyway, it was followed by a dinner back in Raleigh, at which we were assigned to lucky table #13.
The food was fantastic & plentiful (just how it should be), the decorations were beautiful (they did black & white as their colors; white hydrangeas on black tablecloths looked particularly cool), and overall the company was great...except for the guy immediately to my left. I was not a fan of him. I don't even recall his name, but that's not relevant because I can certainly recall his actions.
It all started with him thinking that every word out of his mouth needed to be heard--and there were plenty--by the whole room and that every one of those same words was beyond hilarious. His one cue should have been when his girlfriend (bless her heart for dating him & being seen in public with him) turned to him and said, "Honey, no one cares." But, gentle reader, that was not enough for him. He missed the cue and kept on going. While I could regale you with stories of his horribleness, there are two funnies upon which I choose to focus:
1) The water glass. Artis & I were there before Slob (that's what we shall call him) and his girlfriend, Pitied, so I'd had a chance to drink from my water glass. Keep in mind that I'm addicted to Burt's Bees lip balm, so most glasses I drink from end up with a lip print. The glass on Saturday night was no different. Not only did it have my lip print on the edge, but it was half-empty too. Did this stop friend Slob from mistakenly confiscating my glass? No. Did it stop friend Slob from drinking from it? No. Did I attempt to stop friend Slob from doing so? No. OK, so I didn't stop him because I didn't see him with my glass until after the fact. I went to reach for my glass & realized it wasn't where I left it. That's when I put it all together. So, I told Artis to use the now-spare glass of water to the right of what should be his glass & I'd use his so that we were back on track. He said he didn't know if the glass next to him had been used (it hadn't--it was filled to the brim & lip print free), so to stake claim over his glass, he drank a little from it. For some silly reason he thought that would stop me. It didn't. I said, "Oh, thanks for testing it for me." And with that, I took his glass for myself, drank from it, & he had to get the new one. (Don't feel too bad for him--there was an open bar & he'd taken advantage of it, so the water glass wasn't the only beverage in front of him.)
B) The butter incident. I find butter to be one of those tricky things when eating in public. When too solid, one tears the bread while trying to spread it (trick: if it's an individual pat in a foil wrap, put it between your hands for a little bit; your body heat will warm it up enough to where it's spreadable & the foil will keep it from getting on your hands. I find I have to do this most frequently at The Cheesecake Factory, where they pretty much serve frozen butter every time.) or the butter breaks apart and little bits go all over the table (or on your clothes). When melted completely, it's all-too-easy to flick it while dipping & thus get oil spots on your shirt and the tablecloth. So, I thoroughly enjoy a nice whipped butter that is easily spreadable and not too soft. That was what was served at the dinner. It was perfect.
I passed the bread basket to Slob & he grabbed his roll and got a knife full of butter. He spread the butter on the roll, but then still had some left on the knife. At this point, a normal person would put the knife on the edge of their plate, use the butter on something else on the plate (like the roasted vegetables, for instance), or even scrape the remaining butter onto the edge of the plate if need be. Not Slob. No, no. Slob did one better--he took that knife & showed the tablecloth who's boss. Yep--he smeared his knife back and forth on the black tablecloth, leaving streaks of butter roughly 8-10" long to the right of his plate. I kid you not. It was one of those moments when you question your own sanity & if you really did just see what you thought you saw. I elbowed Artis; he looked over & his jaw dropped. That's when I knew I wasn't seeing things.
Combined with the girl across the table from me who says she isn't used to going to "those types of fancy functions" and didn't know which fork to use (there were two forks...the salad fork and the dinner fork. Not too difficult.), but said that it was because she was too busy in her line of work, saving lives as a CNA. I'm sure she does a great job & all, but really? Can't learn what a salad fork is compared to a dinner fork because you're a CNA?? Wow.
Anyway, it was a rather interesting dining experience, but we did have a great time overall & really enjoyed visiting with the two girls next to us and the guy seated between Pitied and CNA. They were all quite nice people...and they weren't using the tablecloth as their personal plate.
Wednesday, August 11, 2010
"It's a choice." So is me not punching your face.
Greetings!
So, I have a gripe today. It has to do with ignorant people. I want to punch them. Hard.
For the purposes of this discussion (albeit one-sided, unless someone posts a comment...), I shall post the definition of "ignorant"; my focus is on the second listed meaning.
ig•no•rant/ignərənt/Adjective
1. Lacking knowledge or awareness in general; uneducated or unsophisticated.
2. Lacking knowledge, information, or awareness about something in particular.
The "in particular" in this case is not about gay marriage, which is of course one of the most heavily debated topics right now--it is simply about being gay in general. In thinking over much of the hate-filled debate (being flung by both sides of the aisle) in the gay marriage issue, it occurred to me that there is so much misunderstanding and confusion in definitions of basic concepts, only causing the whole subject to get more volatile. So, we're taking it back to the basics & I'm sharing my thoughts--with random & long tangents to be interjected, I'm sure. (Side note: I have been asked by several people what I think about gay marriage, but that will have to be another discussion saved for another day.)
Being gay. Well, it's definitely not for the weak. I do know that much. I also know I didn't choose to be gay. We'll get back to that in a moment. First, back to "being gay". In my opinion, this is where the greatest, biggest, hugest, most monumental confusion exists & it annoys me beyond belief at how ignorant people are in understanding the basics with this & in combining two separate components to make "being gay" mean anyone that's living a gay lifestyle. Once this ill-placed assumption is made, the scriptures start a flying & the hateful words are flung under the name of Christianity.
What people seem to forget is that there's a difference between a person being gay and a person who is gay who chooses to act upon those feelings. A HUGE difference. One is a sin; the other is not. When someone is tempted to do an action, there is no sin. Sin does not occur until a person actually moves forward with their temptation and completes said action. What's interesting to me from growing up with the strong religious surroundings I had is that so few people actually get that component--and I feel I know this because of all the thousands of members of my church that I encountered over the years & of all of the counsel I heard, only ONE person ever bothered to point this out to me--and so people needlessly waste time hating themselves for being tempted because somehow they're falling short. Not only should they not hate themselves when they act upon their temptation, but they certainly shouldn't be so hard on themselves when they simply have a temptation enter their minds. But that's not generally how it works--and I imagine this is the case in most religions.
Considering that, as a whole, our nation is filled with people who have religious backgrounds to some degree, it shouldn't shock me that this root misunderstanding leads to a whole heap of hatred spewing directed at others who are different from one's self, but it does (shock me, that is). Why? Because we, as a human race, should be bright enough to have gotten past this by now! Instead, we listen to others, believe without question what's told to us or what traditions are handed down to us. (In the case of self hatred due to basic temptation entering one's mind, I think it's more of a societal norm passed on, rather than a verbalized thing--though there are plenty of verbalized ways in which this attitude is manifested in sermons or religious lessons.)
So, in general terms (not even dealing with homosexuality), we have the bulk of people confusing temptation and actions for being one and the same, resulting in a tempted person being viewed as a sinner--even if they never complete the tempted action! It'd be like a person thinking of stealing a candy bar & being labeled a thief just because the thought entered their mind. This overall attitude leads a person to view themselves that way (resulting in no leeway for personal mistakes) & often that person is surrounded by others who would view/label them the same if they knew of the person's temptations in the first place. Because of this, most people are afraid to open up to others because of the judgment (perceived or actual) they'll face. This is why most gay people have a hard time "coming out". This is why many gay people choose to commit suicide over coping with this.
In some cases, it mentally is just too hard for a person to see that they will be OK and that they can get through this. When appropriate support systems aren't in place--and sometimes even when they are, though it's generally the former over the latter--and a person not only feels alone in the world, but that they will be hated by those around them if they only knew the truth, they hate themselves and believe that God must hate them too. It is then not at all unfathomable to comprehend why some would choose death over life. This is so incredibly sad to me--life is such a beautiful gift & I absolutely HATE that anyone would ever feel that death is the only option. Do I understand why they may feel that way? Absolutely. More than I care to think about, truth be told. But, it still saddens me to no end.
Alas, I digress. But, I hope you can see how dangerous this line of thinking can be and why certain things (like someone coming out) can seem more difficult than staying "closeted" about their challenges.
Back to the fundamentals of "choosing" to be gay...
I did not choose to be gay. I did, however, make a conscious choice to act upon it. Was it a difficult choice to act upon it? Yes and no. Yes because of my religious beliefs & my own judgmental attitudes; no because I knew it was the only way that I would ever be able to release my self hatred and find any level of peace within myself.
Saying that someone chooses to be gay is the same as saying someone chooses to be straight. You can argue that point with me all you want, but I'm telling you that being gay was as much of a choice to me as you (assuming you're straight) had in who you'd be attracted to. Why would I, particularly considering the social & religious ramifications prevalent in my life, have purposely chosen this? And, not only that, but I knew this about myself from a VERY early age--so early, in fact, that I couldn't have fully understood what making a choice like this meant, let alone understood how to stick to this choice into adulthood. Instead, I spent my years praying and fasting and praying and fasting and praying and fasting, all in hopes that I would "pray away the gay". I even tried bargaining with God so that he'd take away the thoughts & feelings that came to me all too naturally; that clearly didn't work. So instead I was told to change my natural attractions.
If it helps to mentally wrap your brain around the concept of changing the feelings of who you're attracted to, I'll use this analogy--think about how you feel about the opposite sex (again, assuming you're straight). Think about how you feel when you pass someone on the street, see someone at the mall, etc., and how naturally you are drawn to check them out, find some to be attractive, etc. If you're married, think about how attracted you are to your spouse--and how attracted you were to the various people you dated before finding him/her. Now, imagine that a large population of people told you that you're wrong for being naturally attracted to those people & that instead, you need to be attracted to someone of the same sex. Not only that, but you need to be attracted to the exact same degree--to the point you can see yourself married to them & spending the rest of your lives together. You literally cannot, even for a nanosecond, follow your natural attractions and instead you have to switch your entire self to only find the same sex to be attractive. Seriously stop and think about that for a second. Remove all your doubts that this is how strongly gay people feel--accept it as fact, even if just long enough to think this all through. Can you then see how telling someone they're making a choice to be gay is such a ridiculous statement to make? Can you see that a gay person is no different than you in that they have natural attractions just as strongly as you do--but that they are just directed differently? If you can't, then repeat the exercise until you get it, or at least somewhat get it, before reading on.
Now for the second part of my two-part point: acting upon being gay. So, go back in your mind for a minute to the moment when you understood how much of a non-choice it is to be gay. What do you do at that point? Do you swear yourself to a lifetime of celibacy? You could. Do you decide you'll never kiss a soul you're attracted to or go on a date? You could. Do you decide that you're going to date, but that your dating life will only ever consist of single dates so that you'll never get attached to any one person? You could. My point is that THIS is where you have your choice. While, depending upon your religious & personal beliefs, the choices may not really be that attractive or desirable compared to what others get to choose from, they are indeed still choices that you have to make. And, as I hopefully got the point across of earlier, those are the choices for which you'll be judged come Judgment Day--not for your attraction to the same sex. Will I be held accountable for the choices I've made and will make in life? Absolutely. So will you. Do I wish I'd had better options in some areas of my life? You bet. You probably do too. But, I didn't, so in the choices that I do have, one that I've made is that I'm going to live the best life I can with what I have to work with. That's all any of us can do.
So, after all of this, perhaps you can now understand how insulting it is for a gay person to be told that they chose to be gay. No, my friends, we did not. I daresay 99.9% of gay people wouldn't have chosen it if it was, in fact, ever a choice. As the debates continue about what rights people should have based upon their sexuality, I'd hope that if you didn't before, you will now stop for just a second and realize that the fundamentals of many anti-gay arguments are formed upon ignorance--that is, lacking knowledge, information, or awareness about something in particular. And my hope is that, whatever you choose to believe, your beliefs will be more soundly based upon a greater knowledge of what it's like for someone on the other side of the fence.
I've said my peace. Amen. :)
So, I have a gripe today. It has to do with ignorant people. I want to punch them. Hard.
For the purposes of this discussion (albeit one-sided, unless someone posts a comment...), I shall post the definition of "ignorant"; my focus is on the second listed meaning.
ig•no•rant/ignərənt/Adjective
1. Lacking knowledge or awareness in general; uneducated or unsophisticated.
2. Lacking knowledge, information, or awareness about something in particular.
The "in particular" in this case is not about gay marriage, which is of course one of the most heavily debated topics right now--it is simply about being gay in general. In thinking over much of the hate-filled debate (being flung by both sides of the aisle) in the gay marriage issue, it occurred to me that there is so much misunderstanding and confusion in definitions of basic concepts, only causing the whole subject to get more volatile. So, we're taking it back to the basics & I'm sharing my thoughts--with random & long tangents to be interjected, I'm sure. (Side note: I have been asked by several people what I think about gay marriage, but that will have to be another discussion saved for another day.)
Being gay. Well, it's definitely not for the weak. I do know that much. I also know I didn't choose to be gay. We'll get back to that in a moment. First, back to "being gay". In my opinion, this is where the greatest, biggest, hugest, most monumental confusion exists & it annoys me beyond belief at how ignorant people are in understanding the basics with this & in combining two separate components to make "being gay" mean anyone that's living a gay lifestyle. Once this ill-placed assumption is made, the scriptures start a flying & the hateful words are flung under the name of Christianity.
What people seem to forget is that there's a difference between a person being gay and a person who is gay who chooses to act upon those feelings. A HUGE difference. One is a sin; the other is not. When someone is tempted to do an action, there is no sin. Sin does not occur until a person actually moves forward with their temptation and completes said action. What's interesting to me from growing up with the strong religious surroundings I had is that so few people actually get that component--and I feel I know this because of all the thousands of members of my church that I encountered over the years & of all of the counsel I heard, only ONE person ever bothered to point this out to me--and so people needlessly waste time hating themselves for being tempted because somehow they're falling short. Not only should they not hate themselves when they act upon their temptation, but they certainly shouldn't be so hard on themselves when they simply have a temptation enter their minds. But that's not generally how it works--and I imagine this is the case in most religions.
Considering that, as a whole, our nation is filled with people who have religious backgrounds to some degree, it shouldn't shock me that this root misunderstanding leads to a whole heap of hatred spewing directed at others who are different from one's self, but it does (shock me, that is). Why? Because we, as a human race, should be bright enough to have gotten past this by now! Instead, we listen to others, believe without question what's told to us or what traditions are handed down to us. (In the case of self hatred due to basic temptation entering one's mind, I think it's more of a societal norm passed on, rather than a verbalized thing--though there are plenty of verbalized ways in which this attitude is manifested in sermons or religious lessons.)
So, in general terms (not even dealing with homosexuality), we have the bulk of people confusing temptation and actions for being one and the same, resulting in a tempted person being viewed as a sinner--even if they never complete the tempted action! It'd be like a person thinking of stealing a candy bar & being labeled a thief just because the thought entered their mind. This overall attitude leads a person to view themselves that way (resulting in no leeway for personal mistakes) & often that person is surrounded by others who would view/label them the same if they knew of the person's temptations in the first place. Because of this, most people are afraid to open up to others because of the judgment (perceived or actual) they'll face. This is why most gay people have a hard time "coming out". This is why many gay people choose to commit suicide over coping with this.
In some cases, it mentally is just too hard for a person to see that they will be OK and that they can get through this. When appropriate support systems aren't in place--and sometimes even when they are, though it's generally the former over the latter--and a person not only feels alone in the world, but that they will be hated by those around them if they only knew the truth, they hate themselves and believe that God must hate them too. It is then not at all unfathomable to comprehend why some would choose death over life. This is so incredibly sad to me--life is such a beautiful gift & I absolutely HATE that anyone would ever feel that death is the only option. Do I understand why they may feel that way? Absolutely. More than I care to think about, truth be told. But, it still saddens me to no end.
Alas, I digress. But, I hope you can see how dangerous this line of thinking can be and why certain things (like someone coming out) can seem more difficult than staying "closeted" about their challenges.
Back to the fundamentals of "choosing" to be gay...
I did not choose to be gay. I did, however, make a conscious choice to act upon it. Was it a difficult choice to act upon it? Yes and no. Yes because of my religious beliefs & my own judgmental attitudes; no because I knew it was the only way that I would ever be able to release my self hatred and find any level of peace within myself.
Saying that someone chooses to be gay is the same as saying someone chooses to be straight. You can argue that point with me all you want, but I'm telling you that being gay was as much of a choice to me as you (assuming you're straight) had in who you'd be attracted to. Why would I, particularly considering the social & religious ramifications prevalent in my life, have purposely chosen this? And, not only that, but I knew this about myself from a VERY early age--so early, in fact, that I couldn't have fully understood what making a choice like this meant, let alone understood how to stick to this choice into adulthood. Instead, I spent my years praying and fasting and praying and fasting and praying and fasting, all in hopes that I would "pray away the gay". I even tried bargaining with God so that he'd take away the thoughts & feelings that came to me all too naturally; that clearly didn't work. So instead I was told to change my natural attractions.
If it helps to mentally wrap your brain around the concept of changing the feelings of who you're attracted to, I'll use this analogy--think about how you feel about the opposite sex (again, assuming you're straight). Think about how you feel when you pass someone on the street, see someone at the mall, etc., and how naturally you are drawn to check them out, find some to be attractive, etc. If you're married, think about how attracted you are to your spouse--and how attracted you were to the various people you dated before finding him/her. Now, imagine that a large population of people told you that you're wrong for being naturally attracted to those people & that instead, you need to be attracted to someone of the same sex. Not only that, but you need to be attracted to the exact same degree--to the point you can see yourself married to them & spending the rest of your lives together. You literally cannot, even for a nanosecond, follow your natural attractions and instead you have to switch your entire self to only find the same sex to be attractive. Seriously stop and think about that for a second. Remove all your doubts that this is how strongly gay people feel--accept it as fact, even if just long enough to think this all through. Can you then see how telling someone they're making a choice to be gay is such a ridiculous statement to make? Can you see that a gay person is no different than you in that they have natural attractions just as strongly as you do--but that they are just directed differently? If you can't, then repeat the exercise until you get it, or at least somewhat get it, before reading on.
Now for the second part of my two-part point: acting upon being gay. So, go back in your mind for a minute to the moment when you understood how much of a non-choice it is to be gay. What do you do at that point? Do you swear yourself to a lifetime of celibacy? You could. Do you decide you'll never kiss a soul you're attracted to or go on a date? You could. Do you decide that you're going to date, but that your dating life will only ever consist of single dates so that you'll never get attached to any one person? You could. My point is that THIS is where you have your choice. While, depending upon your religious & personal beliefs, the choices may not really be that attractive or desirable compared to what others get to choose from, they are indeed still choices that you have to make. And, as I hopefully got the point across of earlier, those are the choices for which you'll be judged come Judgment Day--not for your attraction to the same sex. Will I be held accountable for the choices I've made and will make in life? Absolutely. So will you. Do I wish I'd had better options in some areas of my life? You bet. You probably do too. But, I didn't, so in the choices that I do have, one that I've made is that I'm going to live the best life I can with what I have to work with. That's all any of us can do.
So, after all of this, perhaps you can now understand how insulting it is for a gay person to be told that they chose to be gay. No, my friends, we did not. I daresay 99.9% of gay people wouldn't have chosen it if it was, in fact, ever a choice. As the debates continue about what rights people should have based upon their sexuality, I'd hope that if you didn't before, you will now stop for just a second and realize that the fundamentals of many anti-gay arguments are formed upon ignorance--that is, lacking knowledge, information, or awareness about something in particular. And my hope is that, whatever you choose to believe, your beliefs will be more soundly based upon a greater knowledge of what it's like for someone on the other side of the fence.
I've said my peace. Amen. :)
Monday, August 9, 2010
Tobi the Escape Artist
Anyone who knows me knows full well that I love my dogs dearly...but I was about ready to murder Miss Tobi yesterday!
She still has around four weeks left of crate confinement before we can start letting her do a few stairs & get back into her regular routine. Once she is to the point she can do stairs, we still have 2-3 months before we can really let her get fully back to normal running around. However, she's antsy. And I can't blame her. I would be too if I got ran over and then was caged up, despite the fact I didn't do anything wrong in the first place. But, explaining that logic to Tobi clearly doesn't work. She just seems to think she's getting punished. And she's bored out of her mind. We give her toys during the time she is crated, but it's not quite as fun to play with them when no one is playing with you. We also make sure we keep her crated a minimal amount of time when we are home and able to have her lounge next to us.
She is pretty well trained to not leave the confines of her floor pillow & she's only on that if she's not right next to us on the couch. So, I don't feel overly sorry for her simply because I know how little her time in the crate really is compared to the time she spent crated pre-accident. But, I do still feel bad...especially when she does her pitiful whine. Yesterday, she was upstairs in her crate while we were getting groceries put away and cleaning; she carried on and on with "oooooooow oooooow eeeeeerrrrr" and then I'd say, "Tobi, stop." A few seconds later, we'd get another "ooooooooow ooooooooow eeeeeeerrrrr" echoing down the staircase. "Tobi, knock it off." Again, "ooooooooooow oooooow errrrrrr." "Tobi!" ...and then a defeated "err." I couldn't stop laughing; it was so stinkin' cute. She had to get the last "word" in.
Yesterday afternoon, however, I wasn't thinking she was so cute. We had a million and one (no exaggeration) errands to run. In-between some of them, we stopped by the house to drop a load of purchases off. The girls were just fine and still in their crates. We decided we'd better grab some lunch before tackling the rest of our to-do list, so we went up the road to a tavern we really like. After being there for about a half hour, Artis' phone rang and it was his brother, Mont, who had just gotten to the house. All I heard was Artis say, "She did what?! Is she OK?" My heart plummeted because I could just imagine it was one of the girls, but figured it was Tobi and that she'd somehow re-injured herself.
He hung up and said, "Tobi escaped from her crate and met Mont at the door downstairs." Now, I know that Tobi's crate door was latched & I know it wasn't that I just thought it was latched. If that particular crate isn't fully latched, it's noticeable. With a couple of her other crates, the mistake can be made. Artis asked me if I was positive I'd latched it & since I knew it had, we both started laughing at the fact she had managed to yet again get out of a crate. The last time she escaped crate confines, she had wedged her nose in the zipper closure and managed to get the door unzipped. She met us at the door of the garage as we were coming in, with a, "Hello! Welcome home!" excitement. We were home about a minute and then ran out for ten more minutes, putting her back in her crate before leaving & making it such that the zipper couldn't be opened the same way. So, when we returned and found her happily greeting us yet again, we were perplexed...until we saw that she had chewed through the vinyl mesh air vent on the crate. It was a collapsable travel crate, so I didn't expect it to be 100% perfect, but still...the thing died in a day. That's when we switched her to have a steel crate, hoping she didn't secretly have a file hidden with which she was going to whittle down the walls and escape again.
What really irked me about yesterday is that for her to be greeting Mont at the door meant that she went running down the stairs and across the hardwood floors. The few times we have let her walk in the house, she has to have extra support to make it across the hardwood floor without slipping. I just don't want her to re-injure herself or make it worse so that she won't make the anticipated full recovery. So, I had words with her about that. She'd better have listened.
Meanwhile, we had friends over last night & she got to be too much to handle, so I put her in her crate so she could still see everyone, but not be so crazy. We watched her as she put her paw through the crate door and batted at the latch to get it to slide open! That's when it was decided that we're going to have to padlock the door & that we'll leave the padlock unlatched, but situated such that she can't figure out how to get it off the door to where she can smack the latch open. If that fails (which it probably will after about a week), we'll then lock the padlock. Artis said that we may have to go with a combination one; I'm thinking that's fine, except that we can never say the code in front of her or she'll figure out a way to unlock it with the code.
What I don't get is that this 8-lb. monster has an incredibly sharp brain & can learn things incredibly quickly--yet she struggles when it comes to some of the basics like "shake" or "beg". Maybe if we make it seem like it's something we really don't want her to do, she'll actually start to do it. Does reverse psychology work on dogs? Hmmmm...
She still has around four weeks left of crate confinement before we can start letting her do a few stairs & get back into her regular routine. Once she is to the point she can do stairs, we still have 2-3 months before we can really let her get fully back to normal running around. However, she's antsy. And I can't blame her. I would be too if I got ran over and then was caged up, despite the fact I didn't do anything wrong in the first place. But, explaining that logic to Tobi clearly doesn't work. She just seems to think she's getting punished. And she's bored out of her mind. We give her toys during the time she is crated, but it's not quite as fun to play with them when no one is playing with you. We also make sure we keep her crated a minimal amount of time when we are home and able to have her lounge next to us.
She is pretty well trained to not leave the confines of her floor pillow & she's only on that if she's not right next to us on the couch. So, I don't feel overly sorry for her simply because I know how little her time in the crate really is compared to the time she spent crated pre-accident. But, I do still feel bad...especially when she does her pitiful whine. Yesterday, she was upstairs in her crate while we were getting groceries put away and cleaning; she carried on and on with "oooooooow oooooow eeeeeerrrrr" and then I'd say, "Tobi, stop." A few seconds later, we'd get another "ooooooooow ooooooooow eeeeeeerrrrr" echoing down the staircase. "Tobi, knock it off." Again, "ooooooooooow oooooow errrrrrr." "Tobi!" ...and then a defeated "err." I couldn't stop laughing; it was so stinkin' cute. She had to get the last "word" in.
Yesterday afternoon, however, I wasn't thinking she was so cute. We had a million and one (no exaggeration) errands to run. In-between some of them, we stopped by the house to drop a load of purchases off. The girls were just fine and still in their crates. We decided we'd better grab some lunch before tackling the rest of our to-do list, so we went up the road to a tavern we really like. After being there for about a half hour, Artis' phone rang and it was his brother, Mont, who had just gotten to the house. All I heard was Artis say, "She did what?! Is she OK?" My heart plummeted because I could just imagine it was one of the girls, but figured it was Tobi and that she'd somehow re-injured herself.
He hung up and said, "Tobi escaped from her crate and met Mont at the door downstairs." Now, I know that Tobi's crate door was latched & I know it wasn't that I just thought it was latched. If that particular crate isn't fully latched, it's noticeable. With a couple of her other crates, the mistake can be made. Artis asked me if I was positive I'd latched it & since I knew it had, we both started laughing at the fact she had managed to yet again get out of a crate. The last time she escaped crate confines, she had wedged her nose in the zipper closure and managed to get the door unzipped. She met us at the door of the garage as we were coming in, with a, "Hello! Welcome home!" excitement. We were home about a minute and then ran out for ten more minutes, putting her back in her crate before leaving & making it such that the zipper couldn't be opened the same way. So, when we returned and found her happily greeting us yet again, we were perplexed...until we saw that she had chewed through the vinyl mesh air vent on the crate. It was a collapsable travel crate, so I didn't expect it to be 100% perfect, but still...the thing died in a day. That's when we switched her to have a steel crate, hoping she didn't secretly have a file hidden with which she was going to whittle down the walls and escape again.
What really irked me about yesterday is that for her to be greeting Mont at the door meant that she went running down the stairs and across the hardwood floors. The few times we have let her walk in the house, she has to have extra support to make it across the hardwood floor without slipping. I just don't want her to re-injure herself or make it worse so that she won't make the anticipated full recovery. So, I had words with her about that. She'd better have listened.
Meanwhile, we had friends over last night & she got to be too much to handle, so I put her in her crate so she could still see everyone, but not be so crazy. We watched her as she put her paw through the crate door and batted at the latch to get it to slide open! That's when it was decided that we're going to have to padlock the door & that we'll leave the padlock unlatched, but situated such that she can't figure out how to get it off the door to where she can smack the latch open. If that fails (which it probably will after about a week), we'll then lock the padlock. Artis said that we may have to go with a combination one; I'm thinking that's fine, except that we can never say the code in front of her or she'll figure out a way to unlock it with the code.
What I don't get is that this 8-lb. monster has an incredibly sharp brain & can learn things incredibly quickly--yet she struggles when it comes to some of the basics like "shake" or "beg". Maybe if we make it seem like it's something we really don't want her to do, she'll actually start to do it. Does reverse psychology work on dogs? Hmmmm...
Saturday, August 7, 2010
Latest Adventure: Homemade Vanilla Extract
So, in case you didn't know it, I'm the attempted version of Martha Stewart. In short, I try to be domestic...and usually end up with pretty good results...but the struggle along the way is often a mighty one. The burden is great.
My latest attempt to be like Martha was when (months ago) I decided I needed to make my own homemade vanilla extract. Those reading this blog (aka Mom) aren't the intended recipients, so I'll also share that I'm giving this away as part of a goodie basket this year for Christmas. I happen to make pretty tasty biscotti (I drizzle it with chocolate--how can it NOT be good at that point?!), so my plan is to put together baskets for friends that includes a bunch of biscotti (a single batch makes around 60 pieces), a bottle of the homemade vanilla, and a recipe card for the biscotti. I, of course, will be using the homemade extract when making the recipe. I figure that this is a great gift for a few reasons: 1) it's homemade and from the heart, II) it's tasty, and C) it's cheap. I think it'll be around $10-15 total for the entire gift basket--and that includes the basket itself. The challenge I face each year when giving gifts (and one that I imagine most people can relate to) is that I want to give something great to everyone I know--but I can't afford to do all that I want to in the gift arena. This idea helps solve a few problems on that front & also allows me to more easily give couples gifts. (It's always hard to know if both people in a couple will like the same thing...and there are only so many movie night gift baskets one can give before it becomes tiresome.)
The interesting thing about homemade vanilla extract is that a single batch can easily last for years. How? By adding more vodka (or whatever alcohol one chooses to use) to the bottle as it runs low. The same vanilla beans, in fact, remain in the bottle. Sure, you can switch them out or add more in--especially if the vanilla starts to get weak--but the point is to use the same vanilla beans and allow the vodka to absorb from them and darken over time. The longer it sits, the stronger vanilla one has to work with. Rather than running to the store to spend a ridiculous amount of money for artificial vanilla extract that's full of sugar, one simply needs to put in a couple of ounces of vodka when the bottle's level starts to drop a bit. So, this is also the gift that keeps on giving. (Vodka can be surprisingly cheap, so it's really quite economical.)
I decided to make a picture tutorial of how to go about completing this VERY simple process. What you need is:
3 vanilla beans
1 cup vodka
1 bottle with a tight fitting lid
kitchen scissors
measuring cup
That's it. A few interesting notes about the top three items:
1) The vanilla beans can be purchased on ebay for really cheap--much cheaper than if you were to buy them at your local market. I paid $6.57 for 24 grade A Tahitian vanilla beans, and that included shipping. Things to look for: the vanilla bean should NOT be dry or brittle. You want it very pliable. I bought from a highly trusted seller that had a picture of their vanilla bean tied into a knot; this showed that it was indeed a pliable bean. You also only want to use Grade A beans; the country of origin doesn't matter so much, but I have read that Madagascar beans can leave an oily film on the surface. This is not the case with Tahitian, so I went with that.
2) The vodka does not have to be the top brand. In fact, I bought the cheapest. By the time the vanilla beans work their magic, the vodka quality doesn't matter. (Plus, blind taste tests have shown that most people can't tell the difference between the vodkas--and in the story I watched about it a while back, most of the testers actually picked the cheapest brand as their favorite for taste.) If you are concerned about the quality of the vodka, you can use a Brita filter & run the vodka through it a few times. This will lower the alcohol content some, but it will produce a higher quality. (Or at least that's what my research said; I've never actually drank vodka so I'm just going off of what I read from multiple sources on that one.) I paid $11.75 for 1.75 liters.
3) I bought my bottles at Home Goods. TJ Maxx, Ross, Marshall's, and any other discount home goods store probably has them too. You can use a mason jar & decorate it with ribbon, but my problem with that is that it doesn't make it very pourable. So, I found bottles that were both cool looking, had a tight fitting cork, and that had a pour spout. I paid $2.99 for each of them.
Now for the easy part--putting it all together. (Collecting the ingredients was MUCH more work for me than any of the actual assembly. I made my first-ever trip to the liquor store today, incidentally. Of the list of things to have, I only had the scissors and the measuring cup to begin with.)
First, assemble your ingredients. For most, that should be a no-brainer. Make sure your bottles have been washed & dryed too. This is everything together:
That is one dozen of the vanilla beans on the plate, but I'm only using nine of them since I'm starting with three bottles. I plan on making seven batches total, but I need to find more bottles first.
Begin by slicing each of the vanilla beans down the middle, leaving about an inch connected at the end. This is part of why it's so important to have pliable beans--it should feel almost like licorice. This is one split bean:
I left a little more than an inch connected on each one, but that's just fine. You could actually leave them unsplit & this would work, but just not as well or as quickly. This is all three beans split and ready to go in a jar:
Don't they look like dancing legs? Well, maybe that's just me...and I swear I didn't sample the vodka.
Next, put the beans down into each jar. It's also important to note here that a taller jar works best for this very reason.
Then, measure out one cup of vodka. (Be sure to use a liquid measuring cup with a pour spout.)
I realize you know what it looks like to pour a liquid into a measuring cup, but I thought it looked kind of cool so I took a picture anyway.
Once you have your cup measured, slowly pour it into the bottle that contains the vanilla beans. I would've taken a picture of that, but it's a little hard to do when both hands are holding onto bottles and measuring cups--plus, since I shake a lot anyway, the pictures were already tricky to do. So, just imagine me standing over the sink, pouring the vodka into the bottle. This is what the end result looked like:
The trained eye will catch the fact that the vodka doesn't cover the vanilla beans in this case. I think I had beans a little longer than normal, so I cheated a little and added more vodka to the bottle than what the recipe calls for. Will this throw off the whole thing? No. It will simply add a little bit of time for the liquid to turn the dark color we're going for. However, the difference in quantity was so minute (it was less than 1/4 cup of vodka divided among the three bottles in order to top all of them off) that it won't really matter. This is what they all looked like when topped off and corked:
Aren't they kind of cool looking? I can't wait to see them as they darken! It should take approximately two months before it's concentrated enough/dark enough to use in cooking. I wanted to make sure I allotted enough time to make sure that happens, so I've got about four months before I'll be giving these away. Once filled, they need to be stored in a cool, dry, dark area. Exposing these to light will reduce the effectiveness of the process. Also, do not put these in the freezer because that will also slow the process down significantly. Every week or two you'll want to shake the bottle. Otherwise, you just let them be.
A few side notes:
-Store any unused vanilla beans in an airtight bag or container. Alternatively, you can throw a vanilla bean in a container of sugar to create vanilla sugar. There are several tips & guidelines online for how to best do that, so you may want to read up on that. Vanilla sugar works great in baking.
-You don't need to adjust the quantity of vanilla used in any recipe if you're using this instead of store-bought extract. Use the exact same amount that the recipe calls for.
-This can last for years; if you notice that the vanilla is losing its color over time, simply add another split vanilla bean to it.
-You can use other types of alcohol in place of vodka. Each will create a unique flavor; vodka just happens to be the simplest to work with.
That's pretty much it--the first of my bottles are "brewing" in a cupboard & I'm looking forward to seeing it all happen. Hopefully this will make a great gift that will bring my friends a great quality baking product they can enjoy for years to come! As Martha would say, "It's a good thing." As I would say, "It's a great thing!"
My latest attempt to be like Martha was when (months ago) I decided I needed to make my own homemade vanilla extract. Those reading this blog (aka Mom) aren't the intended recipients, so I'll also share that I'm giving this away as part of a goodie basket this year for Christmas. I happen to make pretty tasty biscotti (I drizzle it with chocolate--how can it NOT be good at that point?!), so my plan is to put together baskets for friends that includes a bunch of biscotti (a single batch makes around 60 pieces), a bottle of the homemade vanilla, and a recipe card for the biscotti. I, of course, will be using the homemade extract when making the recipe. I figure that this is a great gift for a few reasons: 1) it's homemade and from the heart, II) it's tasty, and C) it's cheap. I think it'll be around $10-15 total for the entire gift basket--and that includes the basket itself. The challenge I face each year when giving gifts (and one that I imagine most people can relate to) is that I want to give something great to everyone I know--but I can't afford to do all that I want to in the gift arena. This idea helps solve a few problems on that front & also allows me to more easily give couples gifts. (It's always hard to know if both people in a couple will like the same thing...and there are only so many movie night gift baskets one can give before it becomes tiresome.)
The interesting thing about homemade vanilla extract is that a single batch can easily last for years. How? By adding more vodka (or whatever alcohol one chooses to use) to the bottle as it runs low. The same vanilla beans, in fact, remain in the bottle. Sure, you can switch them out or add more in--especially if the vanilla starts to get weak--but the point is to use the same vanilla beans and allow the vodka to absorb from them and darken over time. The longer it sits, the stronger vanilla one has to work with. Rather than running to the store to spend a ridiculous amount of money for artificial vanilla extract that's full of sugar, one simply needs to put in a couple of ounces of vodka when the bottle's level starts to drop a bit. So, this is also the gift that keeps on giving. (Vodka can be surprisingly cheap, so it's really quite economical.)
I decided to make a picture tutorial of how to go about completing this VERY simple process. What you need is:
3 vanilla beans
1 cup vodka
1 bottle with a tight fitting lid
kitchen scissors
measuring cup
That's it. A few interesting notes about the top three items:
1) The vanilla beans can be purchased on ebay for really cheap--much cheaper than if you were to buy them at your local market. I paid $6.57 for 24 grade A Tahitian vanilla beans, and that included shipping. Things to look for: the vanilla bean should NOT be dry or brittle. You want it very pliable. I bought from a highly trusted seller that had a picture of their vanilla bean tied into a knot; this showed that it was indeed a pliable bean. You also only want to use Grade A beans; the country of origin doesn't matter so much, but I have read that Madagascar beans can leave an oily film on the surface. This is not the case with Tahitian, so I went with that.
2) The vodka does not have to be the top brand. In fact, I bought the cheapest. By the time the vanilla beans work their magic, the vodka quality doesn't matter. (Plus, blind taste tests have shown that most people can't tell the difference between the vodkas--and in the story I watched about it a while back, most of the testers actually picked the cheapest brand as their favorite for taste.) If you are concerned about the quality of the vodka, you can use a Brita filter & run the vodka through it a few times. This will lower the alcohol content some, but it will produce a higher quality. (Or at least that's what my research said; I've never actually drank vodka so I'm just going off of what I read from multiple sources on that one.) I paid $11.75 for 1.75 liters.
3) I bought my bottles at Home Goods. TJ Maxx, Ross, Marshall's, and any other discount home goods store probably has them too. You can use a mason jar & decorate it with ribbon, but my problem with that is that it doesn't make it very pourable. So, I found bottles that were both cool looking, had a tight fitting cork, and that had a pour spout. I paid $2.99 for each of them.
Now for the easy part--putting it all together. (Collecting the ingredients was MUCH more work for me than any of the actual assembly. I made my first-ever trip to the liquor store today, incidentally. Of the list of things to have, I only had the scissors and the measuring cup to begin with.)
First, assemble your ingredients. For most, that should be a no-brainer. Make sure your bottles have been washed & dryed too. This is everything together:
That is one dozen of the vanilla beans on the plate, but I'm only using nine of them since I'm starting with three bottles. I plan on making seven batches total, but I need to find more bottles first.
Begin by slicing each of the vanilla beans down the middle, leaving about an inch connected at the end. This is part of why it's so important to have pliable beans--it should feel almost like licorice. This is one split bean:
I left a little more than an inch connected on each one, but that's just fine. You could actually leave them unsplit & this would work, but just not as well or as quickly. This is all three beans split and ready to go in a jar:
Don't they look like dancing legs? Well, maybe that's just me...and I swear I didn't sample the vodka.
Next, put the beans down into each jar. It's also important to note here that a taller jar works best for this very reason.
Then, measure out one cup of vodka. (Be sure to use a liquid measuring cup with a pour spout.)
I realize you know what it looks like to pour a liquid into a measuring cup, but I thought it looked kind of cool so I took a picture anyway.
Once you have your cup measured, slowly pour it into the bottle that contains the vanilla beans. I would've taken a picture of that, but it's a little hard to do when both hands are holding onto bottles and measuring cups--plus, since I shake a lot anyway, the pictures were already tricky to do. So, just imagine me standing over the sink, pouring the vodka into the bottle. This is what the end result looked like:
The trained eye will catch the fact that the vodka doesn't cover the vanilla beans in this case. I think I had beans a little longer than normal, so I cheated a little and added more vodka to the bottle than what the recipe calls for. Will this throw off the whole thing? No. It will simply add a little bit of time for the liquid to turn the dark color we're going for. However, the difference in quantity was so minute (it was less than 1/4 cup of vodka divided among the three bottles in order to top all of them off) that it won't really matter. This is what they all looked like when topped off and corked:
Aren't they kind of cool looking? I can't wait to see them as they darken! It should take approximately two months before it's concentrated enough/dark enough to use in cooking. I wanted to make sure I allotted enough time to make sure that happens, so I've got about four months before I'll be giving these away. Once filled, they need to be stored in a cool, dry, dark area. Exposing these to light will reduce the effectiveness of the process. Also, do not put these in the freezer because that will also slow the process down significantly. Every week or two you'll want to shake the bottle. Otherwise, you just let them be.
A few side notes:
-Store any unused vanilla beans in an airtight bag or container. Alternatively, you can throw a vanilla bean in a container of sugar to create vanilla sugar. There are several tips & guidelines online for how to best do that, so you may want to read up on that. Vanilla sugar works great in baking.
-You don't need to adjust the quantity of vanilla used in any recipe if you're using this instead of store-bought extract. Use the exact same amount that the recipe calls for.
-This can last for years; if you notice that the vanilla is losing its color over time, simply add another split vanilla bean to it.
-You can use other types of alcohol in place of vodka. Each will create a unique flavor; vodka just happens to be the simplest to work with.
That's pretty much it--the first of my bottles are "brewing" in a cupboard & I'm looking forward to seeing it all happen. Hopefully this will make a great gift that will bring my friends a great quality baking product they can enjoy for years to come! As Martha would say, "It's a good thing." As I would say, "It's a great thing!"
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