Perspective Burnout

Ever since finishing my last post on my experiences as a volunteer, I'm having a hard time gertting motivsted to blog. I've covered the events of last week in all the detail I care to, and quite frankly, nothing else seems important enough right now to bother blogging about it.

A Certain Je Ne Sais Quoi

Thanks for the Memory to Moonbat Central via Right Wing Nut House via The Common Room.

Oft we are reminded by many on the left and by Francophiles everywhere that we Americans are so simplisme', so naive to the ways of the world, while the French, well, the French are more nuanced, more sophisticated. This is evidenced by the grammatical and other verbal faux pas committed by our Commander in Chief. Why, a French statesman would never commit such a gaffe. They are far too suave for that, n'est pas?

...during the visit of French Foreign Minister Philippe Douste-Blazy to the new Holocaust museum in Jerusalem's Yad Vashem on September 8, he asked - while perusing maps of European sites where Jewish communities had been destroyed - whether British Jews were not also murdered. Needless to say, Douste-Blazy's question was met by his hosts with amazement. "But Monsieur le minister," Le Canard quoted the ensuing conversation, "England was never conquered by the Nazis during World War II."

The minister apparently was not content with this answer, which, according to the magazine, was given by the museum curator, and persisted, asking: "Yes, but were there no Jews who were deported from England?"

Comment vous dites "Nukular" en Francais?

When It Rains, It Pours

First Katrina, now Rita.

I spoke to Vulture 6 last night, and Houston's a bit on edge. As of last night, four of the ten most likely models had her slamming the Texas Coast, and if the storm surge goes up Galveston Bay into the Houston Ship Channel, things could will get ugly.

What will be interesting to see is how Texas' response compares to Louisiana's. According to V6, Texas has been painfully aware of the consequences of a killer storm since Alicia, and are well-prepared. We shall see. The good news for Katrina Survivors is that Arkansas has agreed to take all those who have not yet found permanent housing by Thursday off of Texas' hands. That should help.

My prayers are with Houston. Neither the people of Texas, who are such awesome hosts, nor the people of LA/MS/AL, who've already sufferend enough, need this. God be with you all.

James and Jake

Remember that I mentioned the reunion of James, a blind evacuee at the shelter where I worked and Jake, his service dog?

Well, again, the media was there, and Houston TV station KHOU has the footage available for viewing online.

UPDATE:
Never mind. It's been brought to my attention that the footage is nothing more than the talking heads in the studio doing the "coming up" lead. I'll post pictures when I get the film developed.

UPDATE II:
My sister called and left a message that James was on the Today Show this morning.

Volunteer Blogging: Other Perspectives

Thanks For The Memories To:

The Jawa Report

Turns out that Dr. Rusty Shackleford isn't just my Blogfather, he's a fellow Katrina Relief volunteer. And while he wasn't a "first responder", he has been helping out closer to the "front lines" than I did. He has words for those criticizing the response efforts that arer as strong as mine were for those criticizing the relief efforts.


The Common Room

The Headmistress had kind words for me last week, and now she's directed my attention to the Blog of Dr. Goodheart, who has me and Rusty both beat in spades when it comes to putting his ass where his mouth is.

Volunteer Blogging: IntroRetrospection

Well, it's been 61 hours since I ended my last shift as a volunteer at the Red Cross Shelter at ChristChurch Baptist Fellowship, and it's 24 hours until that same shelter starts its last day of operation. I've had time to rest, recuperate, recreate, and reflect. I have memories that will last me a lifetime, though for some of them, "haunt" might be a better term. and I've definitely formed some opinions of the relief effort.

I'll never forget the lady (whose name I didn't even get) who ran from the chair next to me crying "Thank you Jesus! My baby's alive, I've got to find him!" or E., who still didn't know on Friday if the same was true of his son. His quiet dignity as he went about the business of living in the face of daunting obstacles was an inspiration to me. His friendliness and faith renewed my own.

It will be a long time before I'll forget the sense of purpose and significance I felt doing something as menial as emptying trash cans, or the satisfaction I got from guiding someone through the process of applying for assistance. People are better off thatn they were before we entered one anothers' lives. That's not something I can usually say after a day at the office.

Ironically enough, I doubt I'm as qualified as even the remotest blogger in Alaska to speak to the first response efforts, upon which so much of the attention has been focused. Quite honestly, this last week I lacked the time or energy to pay attention to it. But I CAN speak to the follow-on relief efforts, and perhaps there are parallels to be drawn. That is something that will be discussed for some time, I'm sure.

Quite frankly, on an organizational level, the efforts (even those of myself and my fellow volunteers) left something to be desired. It's not that we didn't want to help, and it's not that we didn't have help to offer, but the actual process of delivering that help was chaotic. The problem was that there was no central clearing house of information that could direct an individual to every source of asssistance available to them. My last day at the shelter was the FIRST day it was visited by a FEMA official. It was Wednesday or Thursday of LAST WEEK when a representative of the AFL-CIO showed up to let us know they were assisting with job placement for displaced union members. On Thursday, I helped one gentleman fill out his LA state unemployment form, when a question on it caused a lightbulb to go on over my head. I ran a Google search, and became the first volunteer at the shelter who knew that the VA is also providing job assistance, for displaced veterans. Texas HUD, god bless them, is willing to foot the bill for rent for qualified applicants (and almost all Katrina evacuees qualify), but it takes 2 weeks to process an application, and we didn't know this until Thursday -- less than a week before people have to be out of the shelter. Many national and international corporations offered relocation and assistance to their employees, but unless those employees think to look that info up, it would have been very difficult for their companies to find them.

I started thinking that what's needed is a database -- run either by an organization like the Red Cross, or by FEMA, that lists all of the different private, local, state, and federal agencies that provide assistance, what kind of assistance they provide, to whom they offer it, and how one requests it. This database should be available to frontline relief workers, perhaps through FEMA and/or a select number of private agencies (RC for example). The workers should have a computer questionnaire they can use to screen each victim -- are you a veteran? A union member? Who was your employer? Did you rent or own your home? Did you have homeowners insurance? etc. etc., and based on the answers given, the database is searched and all relevant assistance for that victim is brought up.

One other thought on the relief efforts: I have heard a few people, both bloggers and non-bloggers, make comments to the effect that the relief efforts are in vain because it will just turn the evacuees (who are all single mothers, according to these same comments) into welfare recipients.

Kiss my white volunteer ass.

I've been around these people for a week. And while it's possible that my shelter was non-representative, I can tell you that most of the evacuees *I* encountered were families, and MOST of them wanted jobs as much as they wanted immediate aid. And many of them already had jobs by the time I showed up.

To be sure, there were some who seemed interested only in the checks they could get from the Red Cross or FEMA. But to paint all of the evacuees with a broad brush would be unfair. They wanted a leg up, not a hand out.

It was quite a week. If I had it to do all over again, I would. I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to help. My thanks to all of you for keeping me in your thoughts and prayers. And especially, my thanks to:

The Feared Redhead for caring for The Lad, for busting her ass to keep our house, and for making it a home to return to;

Uncle Scott and Aunt Joyce, May, and Kimberly, for helping TFR with childcare while I was gone;

Corrine for the donation of the Frequent Flyer miles that got me to Houston;

The Sister In Law for donating clothing and cleaning supplies, for meeting me at the train station and driving me to the airport, and then for letting me rest at your house before heading home yesterday;

The guests of Gervais Salon & Spa who contributed cash for travel expenses and the purchase of supplies for the shelter;

Vulture Six and the Vulturette, for being such great hosts and transportation, and for the good company every evening;

Mr. Priapus, Darth Apathy, Vulture 6's Brother, Tito, John, and all the other Houstonians who showed me a great time all week;

The Congregation of Hosanna Christian Fellowship, my home congregation, for paying for my hepatitis vaccinations, and for praying for me;

The congregation of ChristChurch Baptist Fellowship, for turning your facilities into the shelter where I felt so useful;

The Red Cross volunteers who worked next to me and gave me such encouragement and camaraderie;

The guests of the shelter who showed me how to face adversity with dignity and humanity.

Volunteer Blogging; Day Five (Last Day)

Today was bittersweet. I am sad to be done volunteering, but I'm also glad that we've accomplished so much. I miss my wife and son, but will miss doing something that gave me such a feeling of usefulness. I made some friends, both fellow volunteers as well as guests, and I'll miss them.

But overall the day was full of good notes on which to end the week. In the morning, I was helping a woman in the computer room. After helping her set up her FEMA request, we went to the Yahoo1 People Finder link I mentioned earlier, and I helped her discover that her 21-year-old son is still alive. His last known location was the Astrodome on September 7, but he's alive.

:ater in the day I and another volunteer gave a ride to a young couple who were looking for an apartment. He just found a job as a welder yesterday. They found a nice place in Humble (pronounced "umble" apparently). While they were filling out paperwork, we drove over to a nearby Methoist church and saw to it that they were aware of the presence of this young couple and the fact that they'll have some immediate needs until his paychecks start coming in. The church promised us they'll take care of them -- it's already sent some of their own congregation as volunteers.

And the best news of the week. When we left at 2:30, there were a reporter and cameraman setting up. By the time we returned it had grown to four camera crews.

You see the shelter has in residence a blind man from New Orleans named James who had lost his service dog and longtime companion "Jake", a yellow lab. When I returned to the shelter on Wednesday, there were signs up asking if anyone had seen the dog -- apparently it had been rescued by a National Guardsman, and been relocated to a shelter, but noone knew where.

Well, they finally tracked the dog down to a shelter in Louisiana (Slidell or Baton Rouge, I can't remember which), and today a volunteer drove him to Houston. Right around 6:30, the time I was getting ready to finish my last day's work, I had the joy of watching them reunite James and Jake.

I'm not ashamed to tell you I cried like a baby. Most of us did. Not only was it a wonderfil, heartwarming event, it was tangible evidence that our efforts have not been in vain. It was a welcome release of the week's pent up emotions to cry. I'm really grateful to God for ending my week's volunteering on an up note.

Volunteer Blogging Lite: Day 4

All a Blur

I came home early from the shelter today, at around 3 PM. The morning was much busier and in the afternoon we had more volunteers than normal (and more than needed), so I hitched a ride with another volunteer. I only worked 7 hours. I felt guilty about that until I realized that on Monday and Wednesday, I'd put in 11 hour days. That compounded with late nights visiting with old friends had me exhausted, buth mentally and physically. Ironically, it did't hit me until AFTER I had stopped being busy. I was in the volunteer waiting area, waiting for something else to do, when I realized I needed to knock off.

Simply the Best

One of the reasons I was able to leave early without leaving them in the lurch was that the local Best Buy/Geek Squad sent over about a dozen of their people to help out. They freed those of us who've been there from being needed in the computer room. I still hate their commercials but at least I respect them as people.

Volunteer Blogging: Day 3

Back to Square 1

Today I returned to the shelter from Monday, the one at ChristChurch Baptist Fellowship. The other volunteers there seemed genuinely happy to see me, and not just because the help was needed and welcome -- we seem to have developed some real camaraderie. I think I'll be going there the rest of the week (all two days).

Marsha, Marsha, Marsha!

One policy at the shelter makes me really question my motives for blogging on my volunterering at all, and definitely caused me to decide not to catalog everything I do each day. It was a simple thing, really. At the shelter, volunteer vehicles are parked the furthest from the entrance, evacuee vehicles closest. And that's how it should be. Because no matter how much good we're doing, it's not about us -- it's about the people in need. Anyone who has a problem with that shouldn't bother volunteering for anything. Ever.

Yippee Yahoo!

I will mention in passing, however, that I spent the second half of my day in the computer room, helping evacuees with their FEMA assistance applications, job searches, apartment searches, and searches for missing friends and loved ones. I mention this in passing to point out some websites that really impressed me.

Yahoo has a People Finder that searches at least a dozen different missing persons registries. I saw it firsthand successfully locate at least one missing person. Very good for them.

If you want a creative way to help, consider donating frequent flier miles. MileDonor matches up people who want to give with people in need of flights. They weren't specifically set up for Katrina, but they are helping. The airline tickets donated by Continental were gone in three days.

Courage

This morning I gave a ride (in another volunteer's car) to an evacuee (name withheld) who needed to check out an apartment for rent. His wife already has a job, and he will get one as soon as he's found them an apartment. She has medical complications which require that their new place be right on a bus route, so he's doing the leg work while she goes to her job. He was polite and friendly and was doing his best to muddle through all the red tape associated with getting long term help. all this despite the fact that he still doesn't know where his fourteen year old son is, or even if he made it. I have a great deal of respect for the rescuers and first responders and relief workers and volunteers, but let's not forget the heroism of many of the hurricane's survivors, for whom day-by-day living is an exercize in courage.

Volunteer (or not) Blogging: Day 2 (sort of)

Arrived at the new shelter at Spring Tabernacle early today, around 7:45 AM. Was assigned to the already overstaffed kitchen. helped break out several cases of bottled water, Capri Sun juice, and soft drinks, which took all of 10 minutes. Waited for another hour or so, helped clean up by retrieving 1 tray of food from the service line, was borrowed by the front desk to empty tjhe trash from one men's room. When I returned to the kitchen, the work was done. Was sent to the front desk, who informed me that they didn't havre anything else for me to do, they're overstaffed. Went home 2 hours after arriving.

I did notice that this shelter was better organized, but there didn't seem to be the same warmth on the part of the staff. It was also interestingly differnet in that most of the evacuees at this shelter drove themselves out the day before or the day of the hurricane, while most of tjhose at yesterday's shelter were rescued from rooftops by helicopter.

I'm really frustrated. I came here to help. It's good to see that this shelter has all the help they need, but my day's shot now (no transportation to other shelters). Tomorrow I'll go back to the shelter at CBF. Today I'll sort the clothing and other supplies that were sent down here with me, in preparation for donating them. I hope the rest of the week proves more productive.

Volunteer Blogging: Day 1

Today was my first day volunteering at a Red Cross shelter helping the survivors of Hurricane Katrina here in Houston. It seems appropriate, since a Blog is, after all, a log, that I journal my experience. For the duration of the week, I'll just be recording my experiences for the day. I don't intend to make sense out of them all, or extract any deeper meaning or lessons or points, at least not immediately. I want to make sure I focus on recording, as soon as possible, the impressions I get and things I see while they're still fresh in my memory (with that in mind, but as an aside, Hepatitis-B vaccinations hurt worse than Hepatitis-A vaccinations, but the soreness from the Hep-A shot lingers longer. Trust me on this, my arms know from bitter experience).

I arrived at Christchurch Baptist Fellowship at around 8:30 this morning and signed in as quickly as possible. They set me to emptying trash cans into the dumpster. After I'd finished that, I was put to "work" (if you can call it that) sitting by the entrance to the living quarters of the shelter, making sure only the resident guests (evacuees) and specific authorized volunteers went in. It was tedious work -- necessary, but mind-numbingly easy to the point of boredom. If it hadn't been a needed function, I would have felt guilty performing it.

That job morphed into one that was just as dull, but a bit more physically demanding. I and two other male volunteers were tasked with patrol duty -- walking around, mall-security style, making sure that everything was in order on all three floors.

This tied up a good 30% of all the men working at the shelter, as female volunteers outnumbered male volunteers, by at least 5 to 1. what we lacked in numbers, we ,made up for in willingness to do whatever was asked of us.

Most of the volunteers were Houston locals, but I did meet one other volunteer with a storey similar to mine. she flew down from Colorado to volunteer.

While most of the guests were African American, there were some residents of the shelter, as well as day guests (who are staying elsewhere but showed up for assistance during daylight operating hours), of many various ethnicities -- caucasian, Laotian, natives of the Indian subcontinent. And while the majority of the volunteers were white, there was als a good representation by other ethincities.

A few things struck me about the evacuees. they were incredibly polite. I don't think I've been greeted with "good morning" that many times in one day in my entire life. They actually READ my name tag and called me Brian.

I also noticed how parenthood has changed my perspective. When I did have time to converse with guests, I gravitated towards families with children as young as The Lad. And our mutual experience as parents made establishing common ground blazingly simple.

But while they were polite and friendly, they were also quiet -- and I don't mean just a polite "Let's not disturb anyone" quiet, but an eery, shell-shocked quiet.

Furthermore, despite the rapport that has been established between the guests and volunteers (especially the veteran vlunteers), it was obvious they hit it off with one another even more, and had a kind of bond, almost like fellow soldiers in a war.

My final duties included helping unload incoming donations, as well as unloading the hot food delivered from KFC. I finishes around 6:30 PM, got a ride home from Vulture 6 at 6:45, and had a chance to relax in the pool before I sat down to Blog.

I don't have to stay there. Despite enjoying the swim, I couldn't help but think of those who do.

Chickens, Eggs, and Volunteer Blogging

Do Bloggers manage to find something noteworthy in every experience, or do people who frequently have noteworthy experiences end up Blogging?

In my case it's probably a bit of both. Take my current trip to Houston to help with hurricane relief. I hadn't even left Oregon, heck, I hadn't even left at all before things got interesting.

It had been three years since I'd seen Vulture Six and his wife at their wedding, so The Feared Redhead insisted we develop the pictures we have of The Lad to bring down and show them. Of course I managed to not get this done until Friday. So I trekked over to the local Wal-Mart in Springfield to use their one hour lab (the only one in town that takes film that late in the afternoon.

By the time I got them in (4:50 PM), they told me it would be two hours, not one. I was fine with that. Two hours gave me time to feed The Lad, do some laundry and packing, then pick up the pictures, then go pick up TFR from work.

Right.

Of course, The Lad was cranky because of his teething, so very little trip preparation got done. Then, when we arrived at Wal-Mart to pick up the pictures, we were informed that they were not ready yet. Give them 45 more minutes, and they'll be on the house.

So we waited. It was too impractical to go home and come back, so we stayed at the store. And I proceeded to forget to use the time to pick up needed supplies for the trip.

The 45 minutes elapsed, and still no pictures. By now TFR had called and was ready to be picked up from work. I told her (and kept her informed, in a running series of phone conversations) they said it would be 15 more minutes.

It was actually 30 more minutes. But eventually I got the pictures and escaped Wal-Mart (yes, yes, I'll post them soon, patience). By the time I drove to downtown Eugene, met TFR at the restaurant where she was eating while waiting, got home, got packed, and got to bed, it was around 11 or so instead of the intended target time of 9 PM.

Nonetheless, I managed to get up at 4:10 AM yesterday and get going rather quickly. The plan was to catch the 5:45 Amtrak Cascades, which would put me in Portland at around 8:30. That would give me a full 5 hours before my flight time, plenty of time for the SIL to pick me up, take me to Fred Meyer to buy snack supplies, and get me to the airport.

The countryside through which the train cruises is much more scenic than the view along I-5, but one spot along the way, just outside Aurora, Oregon, I got to know too well. We stopped to let a UP freght pass us onto a siding before we could proceed. The freight train managed to break down right next to us, before it could clear the track. We sat for two hours waiting for it to be repaired, during which time we had not eta on the repairs. I don't suppose you'll be surprised when I tell you that those of us with appointments to keep (a couple who ended up missing a wedding they were to attend, three other people with flights even erlier than mine, etc.) were a bit on the... anxious... side.

Finally, they repaired the computer that was giving the UP train fits, and it, and then we, were on our way. we pulled into Union Station around 10:30 or 11:00. By this time I knew I was SO Blogging on the whole adventure.

Thankfully, the airport and my flight went off without a hitch, and here I am in Houston. Today I'm scheduled to go get my Hepatitis vaccine (already have a tetanus booster under my belt), and also hope to finalize the details of where I'll be spending my volunteer time. I also need to deliver the donated goods TFR sent with me.

Let's just hope today doesn't go like yesterday.

Chefs Are From Mars, Cooks Are From Venus?

Professor Chaos has an interesting take on Mom vs. Dad cooking styles and the lessons they taught us:

"Without saying a word, what our mothers taught us is that cooking is the process of feeding a family. This is in stark contrast to what our fathers believe, which is that cooking is a process in which you invent unique and delicious creations and through which you bond with your kids."

To a certain extent, I can see his point. However, in my family, it was a little more complicated than that, in part because of my parents' backgrounds and upbringing.

My mother pursued a degree in what was then called (quite un-PC'ly) Home Economics. She never finished the degree, because she married my father and found herself in the practical side of the discipline instead of the theoretical, but she never forgot what she had learned. I'm convinced that her abilities in those pursuits were as much talent as skill, but that's a matter for another discussion.

The point is, she knew her stuff when it came to the kitchen. A lot of people, especially women of her generation, that I know, know how to cook the dishes that they were taught growing up. They know that X dish requires Y ingredients cooked for Z time and temperature. But my mother taught me the basics -- how to boil water, and eggs, and how to regulate temperature and not burn milk and how salt or pepper or sugar or any number of spices affected flavor. In short, she laid the foundational knowledge that would eventually allow me to not only follow a recipe, but to avoid catastrophe when not following one specifically. And yes, she did teach me more of the practical side of cooking.

My father had no such formal training in cooking. What he did have was a childhood and adulthood of abject poverty, which taught him quite well how to make do with what he had. This meant that my father was almost an artist at taking the simplest, cheapest of ingrediants and making something flavorful out of them (as witnessed by his potato soup recipe). This meant he was, to admit it, far more creative in the kitchen than my mother was. However, my mothers ability to master any cooking style taught to her is unsurpassed. She can bake pastry, can, pickle, and handle just about any task set before her. My fathers SKILLS were limited to frying, grilling, and a little bit of baking, but what he DID coook was always inventive, interesting, tasty, and well-presented.

One last point to make, as an observation not of my parents but of my own progression as a cook: Professor Chaos should have not only compared men to women, but SINGLE men to MARRIED men. I remember how I used to bristle when I'd hear people make the tired old joke that bachelors can't cook. I knew it was BS because I was a bachelor and I could certainly cook. But I noticed that I didn't cook. Or at least, not much beyond tossing something into the microwave. But the abilities were there. Why didn't I use them?

The answer came to me when I started having a social/party/dating life, and suddenly found myself throwing together some damned good recipes. It was obvious. Men cook fancy only when we have an audience. Why bother going to all that trouble to make something special and present it nicely if you're the only person who'll experience it? But when we have other people who can appreciate the effort, especially if that person is an attractive woman, well then, suddenly we're Bobby Freaking Flay.

That, I think, is the REAL difference between male and female cooking styles. Women cook to feed families, men cook to woo women.

The Fight Is On

The Lad just turned 7 months a week or so ago, and already we're engaged in our first battle of wills with him. He's grown accustomed (our fault) to being rocked to sleep, and will not go to sleep at night if you lay him in his crib while still awake. So we've started to put him down anyway, and let him learn to fall asleep.

Easier said than done.

The instinctive reaction of any parent (well, any decent parent) is to want to rush to our baby's side as soon as he cries. Crying is a natural reaction to distress, and is a good indicator that something's wrong. Usually, something mundane but nonetheless worthy of attention, like a dirty diaper of an empty belly or an "owie" (that's the medical term, laymen may know it as a "boo boo"). It can also be an indication of more dire distress.

But in this case, it's him being pissed because we're not giving in to what HE wants.

Well, not right away.

The truth is, it's not going so swimmingly. We're supposed to let him fuss for about five minutes, then go tell him he's alright, make sure he's covered and comfy, and then leave him in the crib. That, at least, is the theory. In practice, we make it about 2-4 minutes between each time we respond (due to the mounting fury of his cries), and after 3 or 4 times, we usually give in and pick him up, rocking him to sleep as he wants.

So we're in a no-win situation. If we leave him in his crib, his cries break my heart. My greatest fear in life is that I would ever neglect my child. If we pick him up, we fail to help him learn, and are spoiling him. My second greatest fear in life is that I will fail my child in rearing him right.

I've a feeling that while the battle of wills over going to sleep will one day be over, the deeper internal struggle will go on forever.

Jason Atkinson Leads the Way

Gullyborg over at Resistance is Futile reports on yesterday's meeting between GOP gubernatorial candidate Jason Atkinson and Oregon Bloggers. From what he has to say, I'm liking Atkinson more and more all the time.

I also look forward to the next meeting between Bloggers and Atkinson, hopefully I can attend the next one.

Oregon: A Swell State

Thanks for the Memory to friend (but not fellow blogger) Lurch.

After meeting TFR at her work each day and taking the helm of the MoronMobile, We drive along I-205 back towards home, to be greeted by the picture-framed view of the Three Sisters, a set of tall peaks in the Cascade Range.

Well, soon there may be a fourth sister.

Or maybe not, according to the article.

I've known about the bulge growing in the area for some time, but I didn't have all the details right. I thought it was one of the Sisters herself. But apparently it's a region near the mountain.

I also learned something I didn't know, but doesn't surprise me, which is that Oregon is home to 4 of the 18 most active volcanoes in the U.S. (Putting us in such impressive company as Washington, Alaska, and Hawaii. Welcome to the Ring of Fire, baby!). Those four are Mount Hood (I suspected that), Crater Lake (I thought she was extinct, but apparently is only dormant), Newberry Crater, and South Sister.

It was also a bit unsettling to learn how inadequate monitoring of them is. Usually volcanoes give you some advance warning, but still, the sooner we know the better, doncha think?

Whether the magma will move again or ever reach the surface is a mystery. But if it did, geological history suggests it would result only in small cinder cones that spew ash and lava.

...but would still be cool to watch.

The good news is that such an eruption likely would not seriously affect any population centers, Chitwood said.

Yeah, except for Bend, that's pretty remote country.

This could be kind of cool. Back when I thought one of the Sisters herself was bulging, I was worried about the towns and the city of bend and all the potentially threatened wildlife. But if it results in a much smaller but still interesting to watch event, it's a win-win. Scientists get the chance to observe a volcano being born, Oregon Tourism gets a boost, and the Cascades get to blow off a little stress, all without any real harm being done.

Cooking Blues

It's been a while since I posted a recipe, mostly because it's been a while since I had a chance to try any new ones out. Last night I had a chance to tinker, and came up with a cool dessert recipe. I hope to embellish it later, but for now it's pretty good on its own for now:

Sweet Blue Corn and Hazelnut Tamales

1 cup masa
1 cup blue corn meal
1 teaspoon baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
1/4 cup honey
1/2 cup sugar
1 cup apple juice
1/4 tsp vanilla
1/3 cup oil or melted shortening
1/4 cup chopped hazelnuts

dried cornhusks, soaked for 2 hours in cold water

combine the dry ingredients in a glass bowl. In a small saucepan, combine sugar, honey, vanilla, and apple juice. Heat over low until lukewarm, stirring until sugar and honey are melted. Pour into dry mix, mixing together with your hands until you have a smooth, lump-free dough.

using a mixer, beat shortening until fluffy. combine dough, mix thoroughly and continue to beat until light.

place 2-4 tablespoons of dough in each cornhusk, fold sides over and then fold over ends. Steam approximately 1 hour or until husks no longer stick to the tamale.

Makes a bunch.

I'm considering a couple of ideas for a sauce to pour over them, but nothing yet.

A Little Good News

Thanks for the Memory to Howie, posting for Blogfather Rusty.

Hostage Roy Hallums has been released!

Rusty's been deeply involved for some time in the effort not to let Roy be forgotten. It looks like that effort was not in vain. The story of his release is running on Fox News, CNN, and the NY Times. This is good news indeed.

Rusty points out that up until now, for the months that Roy was missing, the State Department would not comment on the existence of another US Hostage in Iraq. Given the news today, I can't help but wonder if that wasn't for purposes of Opsec (Operational Security). The less they talked about him, the less wary the Tangoes would be of search efforts.

Either way, I'm glad he's free. Congratulations to Roy, his family, the brave US soldiers who rescued him, and to the Jawa Report for keeping the faith all this time.

Long Shot

I've been conversing with Vulture Six, my impending host, who is recommending that I make sure I get vaccinations for Hepatitis-A, Tetanus, and Influenza.

So the next day or so will be spent looking into that. Wish me luck.

I'm not squeamish about needles -- as a veteran of childhood diseases and surgeries, they're old hat. I am squeamish about the effect on my wallet.

Phoenix Rising

This is a Bleg for information.

It has come to my attention that I have a four hour layover in Phoenix on my way home. Is there anyone in the Phoenix area who can recommend something to see that:

A) can be reached quickly enough to get there, do/see it, and get back to the airport without jeopardizing my next flight;
B) Is worth the trouble?

UPDATE:

Whoops. Never mind, I was looking at the second flights ARRIVAL time in Portland, not it's DEPARTURE time in Phoenix. Layover's an hour at most.