Sow There!

The leaves have started their downward spiral.
We rode bikes to the farmers market Thursday night, riding in zig-zags to try to crunch brown leaves under the bicycle tires.
We were very conscious that the end of the summer vegetable and fruit season is near and had plans to stockpile a few things.
The four-pound bags of apples were only $3. Poor Tommy wished we had driven the car instead because he had to tote those around in his backpack.
Last weekend I made an apple pie, which I haven’t done in about a million years. After the first bite, Tommy put his fork down and insisted that we run out to the store at 10 p.m. to buy vanilla ice cream. Double yum.
At farmer’s market last week we also visited our favorite vegetable booth across the way from the Lodestar Olive Oil tasting booth.
Jason is a teenage boy who works the booth with his parents. I like it how you get to know the people who sell at the market. You can talk to them about recipes or how hot to expect the peppers to be or whether there will be another batch of corn this year.
We’ve gotten to know Jason this summer because I’ve been making huge batches of fresh salsa. Because the tomatoes we buy will be chopped up, we pick out the softest or ugliest ones and Jason frequently throws in a few extra. My salsa recipe is fairly basic. Tomatoes, red onion and cilantro. I use the Cuisinart to chop up about 1 1/2 jalapenos and garlic. The key is to squeeze in the juice of one lime. If we have it on hand I’ll finely chop some celery, just for some added crunch. Season with salt and pepper.
But now that the season is wrapping up, I’ve shifted to my cooked salsa, which I freeze in ice cube trays. One cube defrosted in the microwave for 30 seconds is enough salsa to add to an omelet. Three cubes is enough for a snack of chips and salsa.
Here’s the recipe, which I should credit to my friend Donna Garrison, who told me how to do it.
Cut the tomatoes and one full onion and a few jalapenos in half. Place on a cookie sheet and broil in the oven until the tops of them are charred black.
Put in the blender with garlic and cilantro and lime. Liquefy and pour into the ice cube trays.
The charring of the tomatoes gives the salsa a smoky flavor.
Freezing salsa is a little bit like trying to put a little bit of summer away to enjoy later.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:04 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A friend and I were chatting recently about how her single adult son keeps certain feminine products in his bathroom in case a female friend or relative is visiting and needs them.
We both agreed this is a very sensitive and thoughtful gesture and bodes well for his future as a spouse.
Why it is embarrassing for men to buy such things is somewhat of a mystery. You would think a man would be proud to go to the store, stand up tall and make the nonverbal statements that a) he has a woman in his life, b) he cares enough about the woman to go to the store for her when she needs something important and c) he’s not such a goober that he would be embarrassed by something like that.
I'd think people would be more embarrassed to be loading up a shopping cart with stacks and stacks of Swanson's dinners and Little Debbie's. Can you say "bachelor alert."
There are, however, things that are merited on the embarrassment scale. These are the things you place face down on the conveyor belt and sort of hold your breath until the clerk puts them in the white plastic bag. If you need to purchase only this one item, you usually walk around the store and find a bunch of other things you don’t need to help hide the embarrassing item.
These would include things like Preparation H and early pregnancy tests.
My friend and I were cracking up about what if there was a task on one of those reality shows and you had to shop for all of the most embarrassing things at one time.
The list would include condoms, feminine hygiene products, Viagra, lice shampoo, Grecian formula, anti-fungal cream, facial wax, cold sore medicine, Ex-Lax, wart removal, Polaroid film, Rogaine, Vagisil and K-Y.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 04:13 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Last Friday, which just happened to be the fall equinox, there was a crazy wind in the air.
Not that the wind was overpowering or got caught in pipes to make that whirring sound. It was the kind of crazy wind that makes people like me restless.
There’s something about fall that has an earthy smell, perhaps from decaying leaves, or maybe from the wind that churns up the topsoil just enough so the scent permeates the air.
I remember times in college when I lived in an apartment complex and was good friends with several of my neighbors.
As the season changed and night began to come earlier in the evening. One or another of us would say “hey, do you feel that wind? Let’s go to the river.�
There was an unspoken understanding of what we were feeling — itchy, a little pent-up, eager to bundle up in a sweatshirt and feel the cool wind on our cheeks.
On those restless nights about eight of us would pile into about two cars, or maybe into the back of a pickup truck when that was still legal.
As the river rolled by we’d lean against the side of the cars, or lay on the hood and look up at the stars.
The heat from the engine was just enough to warm us a little.
There’s a quiet that friends can share by being close enough to hear one another’s exhales without needing to speak.
That’s the feeling in the air this time of year.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:10 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

During the daily morning garden tour I pointed out to Tommy the plants that would be dying soon. The primrose is already mostly frazzled, but I’ve left it in the ground anyway. One reader said that if you plant primrose next to plants that grow taller, such as impatiens, the primrose might survive until the next year.
I have my doubts, but haven’t bothered to compost it yet.
The snapdragons will likely survive the winter, but the vinca rosea will wither.
The tomatoes are finally going crazy after we learned from Cass Mutters, farm adviser, that tickling the stems of the blooms will help the flowers to pollinate. I’m hoping to get one good batch of tomatoes to make salsa for freezing before the plants keel over.

Time to celebrate
Today is the fall equinox, which is a good time to think about the changing of the seasons and what to do in the garden.

It’s also a good excuse to have an equinox party — think huge bash that would make Burning Man seem like a marshmallow roast.
We had a spirited barbecue last weekend (see blog entry at www.norcalblogs.com/sow there, Sept. 20 entry).
We still have a few more weeks before the weather really turns. I see this time as a chance to start over with a new set of plants.
I went to Rite Aid recently and was really pleased to see two giant racks of different colored mums. They had a magenta/purple, crisp white and some that looked like yellow daisies with orange centers, and several more.
I like to enjoy the potted plants indoors or on the doorstep for a couple of days before deciding where to put them in the ground.
Well, actually, I usually keep meaning to plant them for about a week and then Tommy puts them in the ground one day while I’m doing something else.

Cockscomb goes wild
A gardener named Katie phoned up and said she had an unusual volunteer plant in her front garden bed.
A friend brought her a bouquet last year of flowers bought at the farmers’ market.
Among the blooms were the cockscomb, which has a furry bloom that resembles a rooster’s comb, thus the name. Cockscomb is also the name of the three-pointed hat worn by jesters.
Who knew?
After the flowers in her bouquet wilted, she placed the cockscomb on her patio table. The plant is somewhat messy and will drop tiny seeds, the size of poppy seeds, all over the table as the flowers dry.
Apparently the wind blew some of the seeds into Katie’s flower bed.
This spring the leaves started to sprout. At that point, she didn’t know what the plant was, but the leaves were attractive and she was curious to see what developed. The dozen or so plants kept growing and growing and are now about 8 feet tall at their peak.
Usually the plant, also called celosia, will only be about 8-18 inches tall.
The flowers can last several months on the plant and have a velvety look to them. From some angles, the shape of the flowers looks like coral.
Katie lives in a quaint apartment complex where each person has a little area to garden in the front. Her neighbors think her volunteer plant is all the rage, and many of them have asked her to save them seeds so they can grow it next year.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cockscomb

Boost
The energy drink name game contest was mildly entertaining. Sometimes in life something will crack you up and then you realize later that you’re the only one who thinks it’s funny.
To prove this wasn’t the case with energy drinks, I did some Internet searching and found a lot of people who apparently collect energy drinks.
I found a photo of an energy drink tower in someone’s bedroom (photo is posted on the Sow There blog). Some of the lesser-known names include High Octane, Rockstar, Crunk, Lightning Bolt, Bawls, Monster Energy, Rip It and Pit Bull.
Dad put on his thinking cap and came up with a few clever suggestions for different subcultures:
For the skater in your life: Rink Drink.
For roller derby girls: Pink Rink Drink.
For rednecks: Power Paunch.
Skateboarders: Skaterade.
Media personalities: Newscrewsbrews.
Chicoans: Buttejuice.
For manual laborers: Blister Juice.
There you have it. Great minds at work.

Sow There! loves people with extraordinary plants. For feedback, send to P.O. Box 9, Chico CA 95927 or hhacking@chicoer.com.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:36 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

The energy drink name game wasn’t as much of a hit as I had hoped, but this blog thing takes a while to catch on. I don’t know why I think energy drink names are funny. Maybe because one imagines a bunch of 20-year-old hipsters sitting around some grandiose mahogany executive table scrawling on bar napkins to come up with the names.

In addition to the energy drink names mentioned last week, our research staff has discovered some lesser-known brands: Lightning Bolt, Crunk, Bawls, Monster Energy, Rip it, Pit Bull and Rockstar.
Dad spent some time thinking of different brands for different subculture groups. See — Dad should be making the big-bucks, hanging out with 20-year-olds and scrawling on bar napkins. Why he wasted all that time as a corporate executive we’ll never know.

Dad’s suggestions:
For the skater in your life: Rink Drink.
For roller derby girls: Pink Rink Drink.
For all you rednecks: Power Paunch.
Skateboarders: Skaterade.
Media personalities: Newscrewsbrews.
Chicoans: Buttejuice.
For manual laborers: Blister Juice.

There you have it. Great minds at work.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:00 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

It's been a long time since I've thought about the Muppets. OK. Close your eyes and imagine them. Of course Kermie and Miss Piggy come up first in our minds. The loveable and nature-loving frog and his materialistic and overly-pink, pampered girlfriend, not to mention jealous, prone-to-violence and narcissistic.
The Muppet Show debuted in the mid '70s. I was seven years old, fresh off of Sesame Street, and suddenly there was a prime-time show that helped bond parent and kid with silly antics and actually really good songs.
When I did an informal poll of my girlfriends at work, most said their most memorable character was Kermit. One writer said she used to get tears in her eyes when she would hear the lyrics: "Why are there so many, songs about rainbows."
Plus, Kermit is so cool contemplating his navel and being the first frog to ride a bicycle.

Frank Oz was a pioneer of puppetry. Before he was the man behind Yoda, before those Rambo-esque marionettes from "Team America," Frank brought us the mostly-innocent Muppets.

We had a barbecue last weekend. I had an itch to be social and Tommy agreed we could have a barbecue.
Julie and Pat had said they would bring musical instruments and maybe an amplifier. Alas, they did not follow through. Perhaps they didn't want to burden us with the fact that they both just started to learn how to play.
Bummed, I pointed Julie in the direction of a cheap guitar hanging on some nails in the living room and an ancient tambourine.
I like to have instruments around the house just in case Neil Diamond decides to make an appearance or someone wants to impersonate "Josie and the Pussycats." If there are more than two amateur, wanna-be musicians around I can conjure up some vitamin bottles for people to shake for the percussion section.
Throw in a cowbell and suddenly you're the house band on "American Idol."
Growing up as a kid we always had this weird wooden armadillo Gram bought in Guatemala. We had it in a corner of the living room and when someone felt musical we would fish out a chopstick and one or the other of us would accompany my mother on the autoharp.

Julie reiterated that she was just learning to play, but she did know one song she had learned to play for her son’s class.
"Why are there so many, songs about rainbows ..."
About four of us hovered around the front porch, with the Christmas tree lights strung up along the canopy over our patio.
We warbled and hummed, ...."rainbows have nothing to hide."
Then, invariably, we started talking about the Muppets.

Most of us have warm memories of Kermit.
But what of all those lessor stars of felt and cotton fiber?
Animal — the drummer of the Muppets band. He would be invited to any one of my parties if he had a chaperone. If only we all had that energy and could channel it.

Zoot — that Muppet who played the saxophone and wore that cool gray Stetson hat. I kinda had a crush on that guy, if a 10-year-old can have a crush on a Muppet.

My co-worker Michelle fondly remembers "Chef," the guy who spoke Swedish. She said recently that her step-dad had a Swedish accent, so the fact that she was introduced to "Chef" before her mother married the Swede, she was more prone to like the new father-figure.
Sadly, as I press forward towards age 40, more and more of my guy friends have started to look like Fozzie Bear.

For a really silly test on finding out which Muppet best fits your personality, go to: http://www.matthewbarr.co.uk/muppets/

Lyrics to “Rainbow connection�

Why are there so many
Songs about rainbows
And what’s on the other side?
Rainbows are visions
They’re only illusions
And rainbows have nothing to hide

So we’ve been told and some chose to
Believe it
But I know they’re wrong wait and see
Someday well find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Who said that every wish
Would be heard and answered?
When wished on the morning star
Somebody thought of that
And someone believed it
And look what its done so far
What’s so amazing
That keeps us star gazing
What so we think we might see
Someday well find it
That rainbow connection
The lovers the dreamers and me

All of us under its spell
We know that its probably magic
Have you been half asleep
And have you heard voices
I’ve heard them calling my name
Are these the sweet sounds that called
The young sailors?
I think they’re one and the same
I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it
There’s something that I’m supposed to be
Someday well find it
The rainbow connection
The lovers, the dreamers and me

Posted by Heather Hacking at 02:53 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I’ve only seen the television show “Survivor� a handful of times. I think that was during the first season when there was so much hype on the cast that included Richard.
But I wrote so many stories about our roller derby maven Flica Flame and have gotten excited about it. A bunch of my coworkers even signed up for a Survivor pool. Somebody found a list of contestants on the Internet and for $5 we were each randomly assigned one of the players.
I got Nathan.
Go Nathan go!

The NorCal Roller girls gathered at Round Table Thursday to watch the show. I had talked to a few of the players over the past several months, and it was fun to meet them in person. CalSkate owner Mike Seko set me up with some interviews, so I got a chance to meet a few more.
These are really nice women. Sure, they’re eccentric. They have a lot of tattoos and paint their faces with designs and like to show off cleavage.
I was talking with one player named Amber about her passion for the game. It’s rare and wonderful when you meet someone who has something in their life which totally rocks their world.
It would be like hearing Alice Watters talk about food or Dr. Mark! talk about composting.
Amber, who skates under the name Red X, said she took over as blocker for the team the VooDoo Dolls after Flica left to film “Survivor.� Amber said she wracked up penalties rather quickly and believes if she had played the position longer, she could have set a league record.
It’s good to have something like that to be proud of.
And while some might not think a list of penalties to be a good thing, in roller derby apparently that’s a mark of honor.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 06:03 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

Tommy and I volunteered again this year for Taste of Chico. We were given a job in the Go Girl energy drink booth. The beverage comes in a tall pink can. It tastes pretty good and is fizzy, although I’m a little hesitant to pump myself full of niacin.

WIN IT:

CLICK ON THE ENTRY "ENERGIZED" BELOW TO ENTER A CONTEST TO WIN THIS BOOK.

At first it was funny when people would walk by gesturing like some sort of hip-hop singer and saying, “You go, girl!� But after a while, it became difficult to come up with new, snappy comebacks. After a while, I had to consciously smile and not go into my patented Billy Idol sneer.
The other repetitive jokes included, “Can guys drink it?�, “Does this contain estrogen?� and “Will it make my voice go high?�
Go Girl is the first energy drink targeted specifically at women. I never thought about this before, but it’s true — most of the energy drinks seem to be targeted at men.
Think about the names energy drinks are given: Red Bull, Full Throttle, Dark Dog, Red Dragon, Shark and Amp.
There’s also a sub-category of hip-hop energy drink names, such as Pimp Juice and Raw Dawg.
If Go Girl is a success, I’m sure there will be more energy drinks targeted to women. Maybe they’ll come up with names such as Crazed or Spaz.

Blah, blah, blog
I’ve had a blog up for the past two weeks on norcalblogs.com/sowthere. It’s been fun writing errant thoughts and sending them out into the universe, but also somewhat disconcerting because you never know if anyone actually reads it. One of our computer geeks said I’ll get a count of visitors sometime next month. Judging from the comments I’ve received (four), it is read by my friends and some gal named Trixi.
I guess that’s a start.
But I need a little more validation than this. I already know my friends think I’m great.
To liven things up, I’m offering a contest.
I have on my desk a copy of “Wild Lilies, Irises and Grasses — Gardening with California Monocots� by Nora Harlow and Kristin Jakob. http://www.ucpress.edu/books/pages/10044.html.
I’m inviting people to visit my blog this week and submit a funky, funny name for an energy drink. The best submission wins the book, printed in Hong Kong for the University of California Press.
Kudos to people who actually look at my blog entries. I think the one about the really bad hair on “Rock Star, Supernova� is pretty funny.
To enter the contest and submit your prize-winning energy drink name, go to www.norcalblog.com/sowthere.

Amazing amaranth
Last week the column featured elephant head amaranth, a plant in Shelley’s yard with blooms that look like a middle finger. We nicknamed it the “flip-off plant.�
Shelley’s neighbor saw the article and had the good sense to ask to dig up the plant to put in her own yard. Good thing, because Shelley can be really feisty and likely would have told her neighbor a thing or two if she had taken the plant under cover of darkness.
The elephant head amaranth is related to the regular amaranth, which turns out to be a pretty darn cool plant. Amaranth is a grain that is a super-high source of energy and can be eaten by people who are wheat-intolerant.
I found a cool Web site: www.mexconnect.com that had a glowing review of this “food of the Gods.�
Author Karen Hursh Graber states that the food contains between 75 percent and 87 percent of the total human nutritional requirements. That kind of makes you want to rush out and get some, doesn’t it?
Who needs genetically modified golden rice? Let’s just start growing masses of amaranth.
Back when Mexico was conquered, apparently the Europeans hated amaranth and linked it to pagan practices, Karen wrote.
Apparently amaranth was something of the ancient Playdough and spiritual leaders used a paste of amaranth mixed with honey to form the image of different gods.
Maybe this was the origins of those Christmas tree ornaments made with dough.
After the Aztec sculptures were admired for a while, they were divvied up for dinner.
They found all other types of ritualistic uses for it, such as celebrating the birth of a son by making amaranth weapons and shields.
Karen’s Web site includes some cool-looking recipes to be made with amaranth.
I called Scott Richman at Chico Natural Foods, who said the store carries the grain for $1.69 a pound. It doesn’t sell that well in bulk, which seems like such a shame given its healthful properties. You’d think the government, trying to fight obesity and malnutrition, would require all Taco Bell chips to be made from amaranth.
Scott said people with aversions to wheat usually go for quinoa instead (pronounced kin-wah).
I always thought that was pronounced kwin-oh-a.
Who knew?
Scott said when cooked with water, amaranth becomes creamy, similar to polenta. It has a unique flavor that is stronger than you’d normally expect from a grain.
Some companies use it to make cookies and breakfast cereals, Scott said.
“Isn’t it interesting,� Shelley said, “how a plant that looks like it’s holding up its middle finger can actually lead to teaching you something?�

Bulb time
A co-worker named Liza e-mailed recently and said her husband dug up the daffodils in their yard. She was wondering if she should replant them right away or if she needed to give them a “chill.�
Daffodils are among the easiest of bulbs to grow in this area. They come back every year. Bulbs that need chilling include tulips, which don’t do well the second year after they are planted. They’ll come up but they look sort of haggard, as if they have been through some long trek across the countryside in a covered wagon.
I’d recommend Liza’s husband put the daffodils in the ground right away; otherwise they run the risk of being forgotten and rotting in some sad heap under a pile of fallen leaves.

Sow There! loves cereals that go snap, crackle, pop. For feedback, send to P.O. Box 9, Chico CA 95927 or hhacking@chicoer.com.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:41 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

I talked to my friend Jim this week and he asked “are you still feeling the glow of Taste of Chico.�

It’s funny, because I was.

Tommy and I volunteered again this year, which means you get a T-shirt and work for three hours in one of the food or drink booths. In appreciation, you’re given a “golden ticket,� which is a card that gets punched each time you pick up a “snack.�

This event is so fun and so much “Chico.� I wonder who those people are who avoid downtown. You hear about them every once in a while like lonely echoes. I think of those anti-downtown people sitting in plastic covered couches and watching “The Price is Right� on full volume.

It was fun to be able to take part in a part of the “downtown� experience.

We worked at the “Go Girl� energy drink booth. It comes in a tall pink can. The liquid is pink and fizzy and has 3 calories.

At first it was funny, but after the 18th person walks by and says “You go girl!� the natural smile turns into a snotty sneer.

The other repetitive jokes included “Can guys drink it?�, “Does this contain estrogen,� and “Will it make my voice go high?�

Apparently Go Girl is the first energy drink targeted specifically to women.

The company’s male counterpart is called Blue Collar. Apparently, if you wear a button-up shirt and tie to work, you’re not allowed this manly drink.

Funny the names they come up with for this stuff. Some true energy drink names — targeted at boys, no doubt — include Red Bull, Full Throttle, Dark Dog, Red Dragon, Shark and Amp.

I guess men are supposed to drink these and start growling like a grizzly bear. GRRRRRR.

There’s also a sub-category of hip-hop energy drink names, such as Pimp Juice and Raw Dawg.

I think they should be a little more honest about what they're trying to provoke. Why not just have an energy drink called Thrust.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:17 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

A new big-box clothing and home store is opening up in town and I got a flyer in the mail urging me to phone an 800 number to see about working for them.

I gave the card to a friend who is looking for a job. She phoned me up and said when she dialed the phone number she got an automated voice that asked her to dial in the last four digits of her social security number. Then the machine asked her to state and spell her name.

Then the machine asked her a series of questions.

“I enjoy working at a job that is fast-paced. Press one if you strongly agree.�

“Rather than doing one thing at a time I enjoy doing a variety of tasks.�

“I feel I could work with little or no supervision.�

Then the machine told her “your responses do not meet the qualifications. Thank you. Good bye.�

I called the machine myself, stating and spelling the name Anna Nicole Smith, and I too was rejected.

It’s rude enough to call for a job and get an automated response. But to actually be summarily rejected for a job for punching a one when “strongly agreeing� that you enjoy a fast pace and can work without a supervisor seems kind of harsh.

What do you have to do? Be a slacker?

The machine started out by saying “we’re an equal opportunity employer and do not discriminate based on sex, race, religion ... etc.�

But apparently they discriminate against fast-paced workers.

Hmmm.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 04:37 PM | Permalink | Comments (2)

One week into this blog and I've already learned a few things, like how to find pictures of Matthew McConaughey and post one on the Internet.

One of the biggees I've learned is that it's nice to have an editor.

After a couple of entries online I'd go back and read what I wrote and cringe if I saw an error. Maybe the program has spellcheck, but I haven't learned where it's located yet.
I printed out the little blurb I had written about "Rock Star, Supernova," and brought it home for the 9-year-old next door to read. I was watching him that night because my best friend next door has a night class. Leify read through the article and got all excited.

"Auntie, auntie, there's a mistake. It should say "and" instead of "ad."

I asked him to circle it on the print-out and said I would fix it the next morning.

"You can't fix an error in the newspaper," I told him, "but you can fix it online."

Tonight the three of us were looking at the recent silly entries on Bonnie's computer and the 9-year-old got excited again. He wanted us to scroll up to the top of the entry so he could check and see if I had remembered to fix the typo.

See, I guess I do have an online editor after all, he just happens to be 9. Maybe the Enterprise-Record will offer him an internship when he's about 11.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:23 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Gardening can lead to some fairly fascinating discussions. For example, with just a little research we learned that the plant amaranth was key to strife between pagans and Christians, is a super-high energy food source and can replace shark liver in our diets.

Read on:

Friday Sow There! talked about elephant head amaranth, the bizarre looking plant in Shelley’s yard with blooms that look like someone making an obscene gesture with their middle finger.

My friend Maureen lives in Mexico and she sent a note stating amaranth is a plant used for grain and was called food of the gods by Mayans and Aztecs. She said she doubts elephant head amaranth is used for cereal and tortillas, but the regular amaranth is and can be eaten by people who are wheat intolerant, M said.

Shelley said she had heard that when the Spanish conquered Mexico and “took over the indigenous people,� they forbid them to grow.

I found a cool Web site: www.mexconnect.com, which had a glowing review of this “food of the Gods.�

Author Karen Hursh Graber states that the food contains between 75-87 percent of the total human
nutritional requirements. That kind of makes you want to rush out and gets some doesn’t it?
Who needs genetically modified golden rice? Let’s just start growing masses of amaranth.

Aztec Playdough
Back when Mexico was conquered, apparently the Europeans hated amaranth and linked it to pagan practices, Karen wrote.

Apparently amaranth was something of the ancient Playdough and spiritual leaders used a paste of amaranth mixed with honey to form the image of different gods.

Maybe this was the origins of those Christmas tree ornaments made with dough.

After the Aztec sculptures were admired for a while, they were divvied up for dinner.

They found all other types of uses for it, such as celebrating the birth of a son by making amaranth weapons and shields.

Karen’s Web site includes some cool looking recipes to be made with amaranth.

I called Scott Richman at Chico Natural Foods who said the store carries the grain for $1.69 a pound. It doesn’t sell that well in bulk, which seems like such a shame given its healthful properties. You’d think the government, trying to fight obesity and malnutrition would require all Taco Bell chips to be made from amaranth.

Scott said people with aversions to wheat usually go for quinoa instead (pronounced kin-wah).
I always thought that was pronounced kwin-oh-a.

Who knew?

Scott said when cooked with water, amaranth becomes creamy, similar to polenta. It has a unique flavor that is stronger than you’d normally expect from a grain.

Some companies use it to make cookies and breakfast cereals, Scott said.

According to a report on the Purdue University Web site: http://www.hort.purdue.edu/newcrop/proceedings1990/v1-127.html, it contains all sorts of good types of acids I had never heard of, and is about 3/4 unsaturated oil.

It is reported to have 7 percent squalene, “a high priced material, usually extracted from shark livers.�
You know, I feel so happy to know this. I’ve searched for years and years to find a replacement for eating all that shark liver.

“Isn’t it interesting,� Shelley said, “how a plant that looks like it’s holding up its middle finger can actually lead to teaching you something?�

Indeed.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 01:30 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

Bird of Paradise
Shelley called up this week and told me I should stop by the house she is selling on Salem Street and check out some plants with blooms shaped like someone making an obscene gesture with their middle finger.

Of course, that sounded like a fine diversion, and certainly some vital research to share with readers.

The plants are volunteers in her yard. She is quite certain the seeds arrived after she bought a bouquet of flowers at the Davis farmers’ market, where she sells her pottery. She composted the flowers and after time some new ones grew in her yard. She wasn’t sure what they were, but liked them and let them grow into approximately 3-foot bushes.

Giant globe allium is one of the more unusual bulbs gardeners can plant this fall. But one gargantuan plant could set you back $10 and there's no money back if it gets eaten by a squirrel.

One day she was reading a gardening article in a magazine and saw the plant. The caption said it was elephant head amaranth. It’s a lovely magenta color, and you can’t help but smirk a bit when you think about how the blooms look like a middle finger.

These babies might make a nice statement if a bouquet were sent to a disappointing ex-boyfriend or that neighbor whose dog keeps coming into your yard to leave love offerings.

The Web site for Seeds of Change, www.seedsofchange.com, claims that the long tentacles on the blooms remind people of elephant trunks, not a middle finger.

Hmmm.

Bulb commitment
Tommy and I have been having some very serious talks about our future. About this time last year we had just started dating and weren’t yet talking about things that required a long-term commitment such as planting bulbs. It’s too early to plant bulbs, but we’ve been perusing the gardening catalogs that arrive at both home and at work.

We had a heart-felt talk about bulbs recently. There’s a lot to consider really.

Do we go for bulbs that will naturalize and be around for years and years? Do we shoot for just one season of glory knowing that the bulbs are just a one-shot deal? Should we make a large investment or just get by on the bare minimum? Is it worth the trouble at all when we could just wait until spring and buy cheap primroses as soon as they are in stock?

For example, daffodils do really well in the Chico area. The daffodils will come back year after year, if Tommy doesn’t mistakenly dig out the dying bulbs thinking they are wild onions. If you buy a big bag of daffodils at a local big-box gardening center, you can scatter them all over the yard. Even the ones that get eaten by squirrels aren’t really missed, because you don’t remember where you planted them, and you certainly didn’t count them.

On the other hand, tulips are incredibly elegant and somehow have a more classy feel to them. I think of it like the difference between Audry Hepburn (tulips) and Meg Ryan (daffodils). Daffies, as I call them, are bright, sunny and pretty, but tulips somehow have a longer neck and sense of pseudo-royalty.

However, as I explained to my beau with a certain air of erudition, tulips usually don’t do well the second year in Chico and if they do they are sort of tarnished and disappointing. Some people dig them up and give them a chilling in the refrigerator to trigger another year of good growth. However, I can never remember where I planted them after the leaves die back.

Hyacinth are lovely and incredibly fragrant. But the bulbs are fairly pricey, and again, I haven’t had much luck with second-year rebirth.

One favorite for bulbs is freesia. These little bulbs often come back a second year, and make amazing flowers you can enjoy indoors. They’re so fragrant there is a reason the scent is used for shampoos and soaps.

Other fun bulbs to ponder include things such as giant alliums. (See photo above).

These can be pricey, up to $10 each for the giant “globemaster.� But there is a lot of pleasure to be had in watching the flower head slowly unfold from its papery encasement and giving you a bloom the size of a salad plate or a toddler’s head.

Garden glamour
Shelley and I were chatting recently about how much fun it is sift through one of the myriad of gardening catalogs. But we both agreed, these catalogs are a lot like women’s magazines. You never grow a flower as flawless as the photos in the catalog. The photographers make sure there is dew glistening on the petals. The varieties are so idealistic they look like they were painted by Thomas Kinkade. Garden catalog photos are likely airbrushed, and sometimes those catalogs just downright lie.

As we sipped iced tea on a Wednesday afternoon, Shelley turned to page 20 of a popular garden catalog and showed me a gallardia fanfare, a plant with trumpet-shaped petals that arrived in a 2 1/2-inch pot. It set her back $10.

Then she reached for a pot on her patio and showed me the anemic-looking plant with four leaves that had arrived about as dead as instant noodle soup. Then she pointed to a pot containing the Gallardia Arizona sun she had bought for $4 at Lowe’s. It was flowering and surviving well, despite the recent 100-degree weather.

The worst part about Shelley’s mail order disappointment is that her husband “caught her� when the mail-order package arrived and she had to fess up to spending too much money on frou-frou plants when something less decadent and cheaper made her happier.

Blog launch
Last Friday was Sow There’s debut on the Chico E-R’s www.norcalblogs.com. The paper is expanding our blog offerings and trying to broaden the range of voices we offer readers.

I like the idea of having a blog. OK, I love the idea. All those times I am doing research and come across something cool, I can now post it on the blog even if there isn’t space in the printed version.

(Check out the picture I posted of the giant globe allium, www.norcalblogs.com/sowthere).

Also, there’s a chance for readers to interact more quickly and share a funny story with other readers.
At this point I want to use it to help flesh out ideas for the printed version, practice writing the column throughout the week and then picking the things that resonated most.

Sow There! loves first-year tulips and full moons. For feedback, send to P.O. Box 9, Chico, CA 95927 or hhacking@chicoer.com.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:54 PM | Permalink | Comments (0)

One day this week I had a tough time getting out of bed. I was having a delightful dream that I was being snuggled by Matthew McConaughey. Tommy got up and went into the kitchen to make some coffee.

You know that moment in a dream when you wake up briefly and you know if you just don’t let your brain switch that “awake button� you can drift back into the dream.

I had to laugh at myself half an hour later and wonder what Bossman would say if I told him, "Sorry I was late this morning. I couldn’t get out of bed because I was dreaming about snuggling with Matthew McConaughey.

Somehow I justified it to myself, thinking, um, I’m doing "research" for my column.

Tommy even thought that was mildly amusing, or so he said.

(to see a picture of Matthew McConaughey, click below).

Posted by Heather Hacking at 05:26 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I was in the lunch room at work recently gossiping with a coworker. We’re supposed to use the lunch room for gossiping because invariably when we begin to cackle and wave our arms wildly, it disrupts other reporters’ ability to concentrate.

I was talking to Annie and sort of sheepishly admitted that I was totally hooked on one of those stupid reality shows, “Rock Star, Supernova.�

The first time we watched it at home Tommy was in a crabby mood and complained “do you have to have it turned on so loud.�

“It’s rock music,� I yelled over the blaring television.

My best friend Bonnie and I call each other on the phone during the commercials and critique the performances. We yammer on about what the singers are wearing and how nobody should ever try to perform Billy Idol’s “Rebel Yell� because no one could possibly sing it as well as the blond belter.

After the second time we watched “Rock Star� even Tommy had to admit the show is pretty good. All five of the finalists still in the running this week are solid performers.

We think that even the people who don’t go on to be the lead singer of Supernova will at least have careers playing places like Feather Falls Casino. We might even pay money to see them.

As Annie and I were chatting about all these terribly important things, three other women who were in the lunchroom joined the conversation and began chatting with us excitedly. The fun thing about this is that the age ranges in the room spanned from early 30s to 60s.

The one thing that does make me wonder about “Rock Star� however, is how they managed to assemble such a diverse mix of really bad hair.

That shouldn’t surprise anyone when you remember that bandmember Tommy Lee is a former member of Motley Crew, one of the most notorious of bad hair bands from the ‘80s.

Then there is the show’s host Dave Navarro. His doo looks like he ‘s trying to be Gomez from the 1991 remake of “The Addams Family.�

Then there’s Dilana, with her multi-colored dreadlocks.

Gilby Clarke has that shaggy-dog kind of hair that looks like you somehow just forgot to get a hair cut for a few years.

He reminds me a lot of my cousin’s ex-boyfriend Brian. Brian still comes to holidays and wears that sort of ultra cool urban style with hip-hugging burgundy bellbottoms, shiny gold button up shirt and black vest.

Then there’s Lukas Rossi, who apparently was told recently that if he combed his Flock of Sea Gulls hair in front of his forehead and eyes, teenage girls around the nation would swoon.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 03:50 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

I’m really excited to have a blog to supplement the fun writing I’m lucky to do with Sow There! on the garden page.

My thought is to increase the dialogue I already have with many of you — sharing garden tidbits, snail-smashing techniques and crafts one can do with Altoids tins.

The possibilities are endless.

I tend to receive about three or four e-mails a week after Sow There! is printed on Fridays. I love that interaction with people who share passions for gardening and the Chico community.

The newspaper only has so much space for all the opinions and ideas writers want to express. But the Internet is infinite. I’m hoping I can share more of the advice and reflection from readers with the Internet community, and maybe even generate more dialogue.

As I get more Internet savvy I’m hoping to be able to include more photos of the fantabulous gardens I get to explore and links to cool information that doesn’t always make it into print.

My idea at this point is to use the blog to generate ideas for my Friday column. Maybe I’ll figure out which inane chatter about my personal life readers think is interesting, and which things are just mindless drivel. By the end of the week I’ll take the best of what evolved and use it in the printed version. In the meantime, some or all of you, can be collaborators on what makes it into ink.

I’m excited, a little bit nervous, hopeful and curious about how all this will work out. I hope you enjoy the ride with me.

Heather

Posted by Heather Hacking at 02:31 PM | Permalink | Comments (1)

For whatever reasons, this area attracts and retains incredibly talented people who choose to stay here and churn out their creative passion. For the most part, they’re not the sort of people lured by the hope of earning a three-figure salary or moving up in the corporate world. They stay here.

As a reporter, I have more insight into the talent in our local community because I’m a destination point for people telling me about it.

I was at a gathering this weekend for Craig Blamer to celebrate his going-away to an adventure that would begin in Spain and end in places unknown.

When I was in college Blamer was the editorial cartoonist when I was the editorial editor at the Orion, Chico State University’s school newspaper. I felt honored to “inherit� him from the previous editorial editor. I would prattle out some mush for which I was passionate about at age 21. He would come down to the basement of the school newspaper 45 minutes before we frenetically drove the paper to Gridley for printing. He would scan the editorial, often wearing sunglasses and black leather, then come up with a biting editorial cartoon that summed up my naive words.

At the same party this weekend was Scott Teeple, an accomplished mural artist whose artwork is prominent around town.

I was chatting with a gal named Chris, who I had met over the years. Chris just recently had an art display at Monk’s. At the same party was Brad Moniz, who has been in Hollywood films and three talented actresses who grace the stage of the Blue Room Theatre.

I don’t mean this introduction as name-dropping. The conversation I had with Chris was revealing because we, meaning Chicoans, don’t always realize or appreciate how many incredibly talented people who we have passing by us in grocery store lines and at local events like concerts in the park.

For whatever reasons, this area attracts and retains incredibly talented people who choose to stay here and churn out their creative passion. For the most part, they’re not the sort of people lured by the hope of earning a three-figure salary or moving up in the corporate world. They stay here.

It’s not glamorous. They complain about how many of our friends qualify for the PG&E CARE discount and lament that they drive nearly vintage cars. But for whatever reasons, they’re here year-after-year.

Many of the people I know who are highly creative and motivated wear three hats — working at several jobs and spreading their creative energy like fairy dust.

With a relatively small community, perhaps it is easier to see these people — and appreciate them. They’re accessible.

You don’t have to go to some frou-frou art reception you heard about through a gold-embossed invitation sent by some snooty woman who bases her invitations on your most recent contribution to the museum.

You can walk down the street and think “cool, James Snidel gallery is having a reception tonight,� I think I’ll check that out.

The artists will be there at the local art reception, in blue jeans, and won’t get offended that you don’t have your Master’s in Fine Arts.

Then we have others, who are go-getters in other ways and add value to all of our lives, without needing encouragement nor grandiose acknowledgment.

I’m thinking of Teresa Oliver, who runs Little Red Hen Nursery on Ninth Street and Wall. All profit from the thriving nursery goes towards children and adults with disabilities. The energy she puts out for her cause is inspiring.

Then there’s Jennifer Oman, who works for the Chico Urban Streams Alliance Clean Creeks Project. She’s tireless in getting out the message that the gunk people mindlessly allow to go into the gutters ends up in Chico Creeks. Thanks to her efforts, and all of the partners involved, people are starting to be more conscious about a toss of a cigarette butt or dumping warm Big Gulp sodas onto the street.

Also — off the top of my head — is Debra Lucero, Butte County Tourism director. Her professionalism and perseverance could easily earn her big bucks in a town where big hair is more important than helping the community.

I don’t mean to make this a big group hug for a few people I have met through the course of working at the paper.

The point is, there are many, many people like this in town.

And we should be proud of that and feel blessed.

Readers who know of others working hard in our community and making a contribution, please share them with us with your comments. Maybe this will turn into a neat tribute article we could share with subscribers to the paper.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 11:29 AM | Permalink | Comments (2)

My friend and former co-worker sent an e-mail recently with the happy news that he is the new father to two guinea pigs. Well, technically, he’s not the father. Yet, most of us know how attached we become to pets and think of them as our children, especially if you are childless.

There’s been a short, yet spirited conversation amongst our group about how our friend should get the growing family of guinea pigs spayed and neutered.

The happy guinea pig owner sounds like he’s doing well to make them comfortable. The animals are happiest when they are paired up with a companion. However, it’s probably best to have two of the same sex.

We’ve been joking that if he doesn’t do something soon, by next summer his house could look like that “Star Trek� episode when the U.S.S. Enterprise gets taken over by tribbles.

(William Shatner and his crew, all decked out in spiffy, form-fitting uniforms, look over Ted Danson's discarded collection of hair pieces).

My sister made this mistake recently by kind-heartedly feeding the stray cats in the dilapidated barn at her house. She just couldn’t leave the poor critters on their own, and of course they multiplied. Due to too much kindness, she put herself into a woeful situation. After just a couple of reproductive kitty cycles, she faced paying big bucks to have all them fixed, or have her heart broken every few months when she had to give another of her beloved friends away to a stranger.

It’s much more civilized, both for the animal lover and for the animals, to have them sewn up or snipped.

By the way, if anyone wants a semi-feral, yet adorable kitten, let me know.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 09:49 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)

Odd-looking veggies may be hard on the stomach

As detailed a couple of weeks ago, strange things have popped up in my garden.

I planted three squash plants that I was expecting to be spaghetti squash. However, the three vegetables on the broad, leafy vines look like one acorn squash, one spaghetti squash and one green Nerf-football-shaped thing with skin like a zucchini.

The local farm adviser said it sounded like cross-pollination had occurred but advised me the odd-looking Nerf vegetable was OK to eat.

A reader named Wendy wrote in that it’s best to be a little cautious of eating strange things that sprout up from the ground.

A few years ago she was living in Paradise and had a volunteer zucchini plant growing from her compost bin.

Zucchinis are prolific in Chico’s summer heat and the plants produce as if they are on fertility drugs.
She ate a few of her surprise garden treats and they were fine. Then, later in the summer she tried another one, off the same plant. It was so bitter she couldn’t even swallow and she spit it out immediately.
Then she got extremely ill for three days and ended up losing 10 pounds, becoming close to being hospitalized for dehydration.

You’re right, Wendy, there are far better ways to lose 10 pounds.

She said she called the farm adviser’s office and was told it is extremely rare, but every once in a while a plant will cross-pollinate and turn into a poisonous wild member of the curcubit family, possibly the buffalo gourd.

After recuperating from her illness, Wendy did some research and came across news reports about several people getting sick from zucchini in New Zealand.

(http://www.hortnet.co.nz/news/2002/n4334.htm.)

I looked at the photo of the buffalo gourd from another Web site Wendy sent me: http://medplant.nmsu.edu/buffalo.htm and it did look something like the Nerf-zucchini still sitting on my kitchen counter, although mine doesn’t have a funky smell like the Web site describes.

“Be cautious about eating any of those squashes you see volunteering in your yard,� Wendy cautioned. “You might want to also alert your readers.�

Buffalo gourd is native to the Southwest, and Native Americans used it for a number of things, including insecticide and soap. The Web site claims the fruit will clean grease spots from wooden floors and the seeds are said to kill worms.

More on gourds
In that same column, I wrote about another mystery plant. I thought I had planted cucumbers, but for some reason when the vining plant started to flower, dozens of orange ornamental gourds started growing. These are those ones that look like miniature pumpkins that you buy at Thanksgiving to put in the middle of the table as decorations.

Cindy e-mailed and said she likes to dry those out after harvest and take a glue gun to attach a ribbon loop at the stem for “fabulous Christmas tree ornaments. They make great gifts,� Cindy said.
That’s a great idea, and since I have about 25 of them I could experiment with spray-painting them or painting elaborate holiday landscapes.

More mailbox tidbits
Here’s yet another reader contribution folks might get a kick out of. Way back when, I wrote about things to do with empty Altoids tins.

Altoids tins have a tendency to pile up. I know I’m not the only person who saves them, thinking they must be useful for something. They could hold thumbtacks or the stash of money you are hiding from your spouse.

The tins could hold jewelry when you are traveling, loose change in the car, paper clips, etc., etc. The problem is, you think they’ll become something useful, but then they just sit in a drawer like all of those free AOL trial CDs.

A reader named Margo stopped by one day and showed me what she does with Altoids tins. She has her friends save their stamps for her and then uses decoupage to affix the stamps and seal them onto Altoids tins.

Stamps are often beautiful pieces of art in themselves, and when affixed to the Altoids tins, it makes a lovely little box for storing things. For little party favors or as token gifts during the holidays, the tins could be filled with candy or small gifts like emeralds.

Sow There! loves readers who make writing this column really easy some weeks. For feedback, send to P.O. Box 9, Chico CA 95927 or hhacking@chicoer.com.

Posted by Heather Hacking at 09:48 AM | Permalink | Comments (0)