Recently I have been thinking about a twenty-year old Supreme Court case,  and I have the writers of Criminal Minds and the proponents of prop 8 to thank for that. Just to get them out of my head, here are my somewhat disjointed musings on the topic:

In the first season of Criminal Minds, the writers penned an episode (“Riding the Lightning”) revolving around a woman going to her execution who had been sentenced to death for the murder of a son she (and ultimately the BAU team) knew well was still alive, as well as involvement in murders committed by her lover. The team find evidence of her innocence.  A large part of the plot involved the team finding out where the son was, and trying to talk the woman into admitting that he was still alive. She refused, because he had been adopted into a good home, and she was afraid that finding out who his mother was would destroy his life. 

This episode annoys the hell out of me, for the simple reason that it is impossible.  Firstly, there is no way that a court will provide relief: the strictures on the production of new evidence found in the AEDPA and state statutes (the case in the episode was in Florida) would mean that it would be thrown into the lap of the governor.  Any governor with with a view to his political life would never pardon a woman who was viewed as complicit in the murders committed by her lover, whether or not she actually was.

But the bigger issue is… even if the BAU team found the son, so what?  The woman was dead set against appeal.  Which makes the whole issue moot due to a 1990 Supreme Court decision, Whitmore v. Arkansas (495 U.S. 149 (1990)).

Whitmore was a case that I followed for a paper I was working on for my Advanced Criminal Procedure class.  (Yes, I know.  I ended up a real propery/land use attorney. Considering I got an A in Advanced Crim Pro that might not have been all that good a career choice. On the other hand, I did also get an A- in Land Use.) It was a fun paper to write, involving a fact set that came straight out of a torrid crime novel, and interesting (and I understand completely that “interesting” is a relative word here) questions of law.

I chose it out of all those available to research because it had the best story.  I am by nature a lover of stories; it is one of the things that most attracted me to law school.  The facts were horrendous, if fascinating: Ronald Gene Simmons killed all fourteen members of his family in various ways, including his granddaughter by his daughter Sheila, and then went into Russellville, killed two people and injured one more. He was one of the worst “family annihilators” in American history.  (Why yes, I am fascinated with serial killers, why do you ask?) He was speedily convicted and sentenced for execution.

At his sentencing, he stated his refusal to appeal either his conviction or his sentencing. Other inmates in Arkansas sought to appeal.  On of the issues raised on appeal was the constituionality of  Arkansas statute which provided for mandatory appeal (the higher courts had to allow appeal of the conviction or sentence by the defendant — all states are required to do so) rather than automatic appeal (the higher courts automatically reviewed the sentence and/or conviction — depending upon the state, the procedure at that time by all states except Arkansas).

The Supreme Court decided the case on standing issues.  Although there might be some Constitutional issue about the difference between mandatory and automatic appeal, the only person who had standing to appeal was the defendant himself: the one person who was always allowed to appeal in cases of mandatory appeal, and who was not going to appeal otherwise.  It is a true Catch-22.

Simmons was duly executed, his death warrant signed by the then governor of Arkansas, Bill Clinton. Although I am generally opposed to the death penalty, I am the first to admit that if there is a death penalty, Simmons clearly deserved it.  I did not mourn or regret his execution.


Standing is one of the legal issues (like land use) that most people are bored to tears by but which is in fact extremely important.  Standing determines who gets access to the courts:  limit it too stringently and people with possibly legitimate interests are stranded on the sidelines looking on in frustration as their interests are defended by someone else (or not, in the case of the prop 8 proponents and the state of California.) (One of the small satisfactions of the case winding its way through the courts is that I can read about and discuss standing issues with my friends and their eyes don’t glaze over.  Much.)  Don’t limit tightly enough, and people with nothing really at stake are clogging up the court system. Determining where to draw that line is tricky. In many cases, it is a matter of statute. 

Standard IANAL(A)* disclaimer: standing, both criminal and civil,  is a complicated subject which I have not studied since law school. My interest here is philosophical, really, since I have been out of the legal arena for close to two decades now.  For professionals, these questions may be much more obvious; for laypeople, which I now consider myself, they are anything but.

What defines an interest?  In the case of a defendant who may have plausible grounds for appeal but who chooses not to pursue it, should others have the right to step in?  If outside considerations rather than their guilt or innocence cause a defendant to refuse appeal (fear for one’s family, shame at conviction, despair or desire to avoid having to live on death row) , does refusing to allow others to appeal for them rise to allowing state-assisted suicide?

I ask these not as legal questions (as I said above, I am too far fallen away from the practice of law, and I have not kept up with developments in these areas) but as philosophical ones.  For me, in this case, it boils down to a simple question: Am I my brother’s keeper?

The answer I find myself coming back with is no.  I am not.  The world is not perfect, nor fair.  At least theoretically, people could go to their deaths who really should not, by their own choice.**  To do otherwise in the latter case is to violate the most important attribute we have as human beings: free will.  It has taken twenty years, but lately I have been wondering whether the Supreme Court came to the right decision in Whitmore after all.

In the resolution penned by the writers of Criminal Minds  free will triumphs.  The woman convinces the team members to leave her son in peace and allow her to be put to death.  

I just wish that, given that the writers chose to approach the issue of capital punishment, they would have selected a more reasonable legal scenario. The subject deserves it.

* I Am Not A Lawyer (Anymore).
**This would be in fact a very rare scenario. In almost all cases, the question becomes “Is someone going to be executed who should not be, in spite of all their efforts to avoid it?” As I said, Ronald Gene Simmons surely fit the definition of the sort of monster that most people envision the death penalty as being appropriate for, so his refusal to appeal really did not do much other than save him time on death row and the state some money in not having to fight protracted appeals.

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The Not-So-Little Drummer Boy is home from college for the Christmas break.  Which means…

I have to remind him and his friends that they need to turn the stereo low and keep their voices down because I really do not want a visit from the cops at midnight.

“Like” and even occasionally “Duuuuuude!!!” have crept into my conversation.

I am forced to determine whether the noises from the garage are the cat screeching or simply something (I hesitate to call it music) coming from the stereo.  Thus far, it has been the latter. 

But most of all, it means discussing art.

The NSLDB interned with a couple of artists the summer before his freshman year, and has taken a number of college art courses, including courses on conceptual art.  On the surface, he is jaded, cynical.  He is especially contemptuous of the hype that seems to permeate the art world.

But scratch that surface, and there is passion.  Love, and knowledge, of the art itself.  Appropriate disdain for the pretension that reduces the art to nothing more than ego on the part of either the artist or the observer. An understanding of how art is, first and foremost, a means to communicate; absent that, it is insignificant or meaningless.

I do not know what form this love will take; it may be that he becomes an artist himself (although his first love has always been music), or at the very least he will go through his life appreciating the art he encounters.

But what I do know is that talking to him is a joy, and that something in me is very happy that I have raised a kid for whom art matters such a great deal.  I will be sad once he leaves for school again, and am reminded how soon it will be before he is gone, not quite for good, but for pretty much everything save holidays.  Although he is a Northern California boy through and through, I really do not expect him to return here once he is done in western Massachusetts.  I would be very surprised if he did not end up in New York or L.A.

It is usually said that children are gifts, blessings; it is lovely to have such reminders of how much he and his brothers mean in my life.

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Ulysses’ boat has sailed into the harbor

Jan is back home from the “We-Fix-Macs” store.  In the past month, he has had his memory card and hard drive replaced and had a battery problem discovered (which resulted in having to replace the “new” but defective battery with the old and incapable of holding a charge of more than 15 minutes) and the power outlet realigned.  I haven’t gotten a new keyboard, but since I went through three of those in the first eighteen months I owned him (the letters kept wearing off) I was hoping we are past that little hardware problem.

The system will not load properly: this weekend I will undertake a complete reformatting and reloading of the disk to see if we can’t get this straightened out.  My job search folders are not easily accessible (make that at all), and vitals such as the latest versions of Quicktime and Adobe Reader won’t run.  The Quicktime would not matter except that it is necessary to run iTunes.  No iTunes, no music.  Or at least music I can choose.  Pandora’s great, but is not the same as having one’s playlists at one’s command.

System preferences won’t pop up, which makes issues such as security and creating additional users impossible (not to mention little things like sound and display settings).  It is frustrating, to say the least.

On the other hand, I know have a computer I can sit and type at which is located at my proper level, so I don’t have to perch on an uncomfortable (to me) bar stool or reach up to type.  Not to mention having to fight for access: while I am the metaphorical 500 lb gorilla, the 150 lb chimpanzees can make my life miserable, even if they can’t actually kick me off the computer except for schoolwork. (“Are you done yet, Mom?” “Are you going to be done soon, Mom?” “Can I just check my Facebook to see if Wendy is on, Mom?” and so on ad nauseum. And I am sure they’re not very happy about it either.)

I have net access.  I have Office.  I can cope.

There is something freeing about my laptop which I never fully appreciated until I lost use of it.  Being online has become a large part of my social network, my communication style, and most significantly to me, my source of self-expression and in some ways self-identity. While not having a laptop does not make any of those things less true, it does make all of them more difficult to deal with.

I blog, therefore I am.  Sadly.  I am very uncomfortable with the ways in which so much of my interaction is electronic these days: does it indicate increasing isolation on my part, or is it everyone else, too?

Is it a sign that I am too much in love with the sound of my own voice, metaphorically, or a sign that I feel stifled and unable to hear myself elsewhere?

Solipsistic? or Silenced?

It’s hard for me to tell.  I may need to ask other people.  Probably my Facebook friends….

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Pat’s Greatest Hits?

In the past six months, I have introduced  a lot of people to this blog.  Personally, I think that’s cool, but I find myself wanting to say… wait! you should have read what I wrote back then!

Not to mention that there are a lot of information about me locked away in things I wrote three years ago and have not revisited.  (I also believe I simply wrote better then, and that I need to work on reclaiming my writing chops, but I have heard divergent opinions on this from other people.)

So, if you will excuse this exercise in complete self-indulgence, herewith are a few of my favorite posts:

Out here with yellow lines and dead armadillos…

Play Ball!

Torture: Once More With Feeling

Mercenary Music

On Seeing Art

To the ends of the earth….

EchidnaQuest 2006, Part 1 and Part 2

Gold and Darkness

Walking the Path: Lessons of the Labyrinth

Twenty [More] Statements About Me. Plus One.   and its predecessor,  Twenty Statements. Plus One.

I am also pleased with my 2006 and 2008 posts about voter registration, absentee balloting, and voter’s rights, but those are really boring and no longer relevant.

There’s a lot more, but I think my ego can let go of posting all of the others : )

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Thoughts for today….

It is diverting to look at the interests of one’s Facebook friends, and notice how the different parts of your life meet up in a like of, say, bacon.  The thought of the individuals involved all in one room discussing bacon is amusing, particularly because they are otherwise such very different people.

I wonder if the chocolate pie recipe I developed a couple of weeks ago would be made better by the addition of sour cream or by the addition of ground chipotle and cinnamon.  (I don’t think adding all of those would be very good.)  Maybe I will be forced (forced!) to make two chocolate pies next weekend.  My family will be pressed into service  as pie-tasters.  It’s a tough job,  but somebody’s got to do it.

I have just seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade for the nth time.  I am still  in love with Sean Connery.

Last night I saw Raiders of the Lost Ark.  I can pinpoint exactly when I fell totally and completely in love with the character (and not just for the “it’s not the years, honey, it’s the mileage” crack). I fell in love with Indiana Jones when he stood on the ridge on the island, and was unable to destroy the ark.  I understood that totally: I would have done likewise.  There are things which lie beyond our importance as mere human beings. (I also believe that he understood that once his bluff had been called he wasn’t going to get out of there anyway, let alone with Marian.)

I now know what the letters LARP stand for.  Why someone would spend time doing such a thing is beyond me, but that is probably a failure of imagination on my part.  I’ve never quite understood the allure of the SCA and Ren Faire and Dickens Fair, either.  (Do not get me started on the historical inaccuracies in those last two.  Just don’t.)  I have studied the Renaissance a little, and more to the point 19th Century England as a history major, and you could not pay me enough to change places with those people. Even the wealthy gentry. ESPECIALLY not as a woman.

Last night, Echidna Boy tossed out his theory of were-lawyers: some people are struck by the full moon, and instead of turning into wolves or howling, they send out law school applications.

A friend of mine just sent me the song “Mammal” by They Might Be Giants.  This makes me wonderfully happy, and will delight Echidna Boy as well, I know: the song mentions both echidnas and monotremes in general. It has displaced “Particle Man” and “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” as my second favorite TMBG song, and gives “Birdhouse in Your Soul” a close run for its money.

I spent this evening cleaning off the top of my dresser, a task somewhat akin to Heinrich Schliemann excavating Troy.  I am appalled by the amount of stuff I cleaned away, and even more appalled by the amount of it that wasn’t even mine.  Since when did I become the owner of a Dr. John CD?  At least I was able to find the DVDs to the Muppet Show season 1 and the BBC version of Pride and Prejudice,

Ah well, it is late.  My bed calls, for I have a class tomorrow to learn PowerPoint.  Oh, joy.

‘Night, everyone, sleep tight, and don’t let the were-lawyers bite.

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Time to get demotivated…

I have always loved the posters from Despair, Inc. Every now and then I check their website. Here are my current two favorites:

Blogging

Madness

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A little Christmas merriment

It’s the time of year again for those wonderful sounds of the season… “humorous” Christmas songs.  I am by nature a lover of traditional Christmas carols, so secular Christmas songs don’t necessarily do that much for me.*  Especially ones that are supposed to make me laugh.**

I really detest “Grandma Got Run Over by A Reindeer.”  It’s mean spirited and cruel.  The fact that the Rocket Scientist’s grandmother died right around Christmas doesn’t help, either.  And “Santa Baby” is just… blech.

I do have an odd fondness for the Chipmunks.  I won’t give the title of the song, since it is such an infectious earworm that just seeing the name can cause discomfort, and I like all of you too much to do that to you.  I also like “I Want a Hippopotamus For Christmas,” which the rest of my family royally loathes.  I’m not sure if that makes me like it more, but it doesn’t hurt. My kids like Weird Al’s “Christmas at Ground Zero,” which is the only Weird Al song that I not only dislike but actually cannot listen to. (It tends to wrap itself in a massive  Mobius strip with “Jingle Bell Rock” in my brain — a loop from hell that goes around and around and WILL NOT STOP.)

The two very best comedic Christmas songs take dead aim at the materialism of the season, as displayed in the myth of Santa Claus and the competitive race to have the best Christmas lights. (Actually, that last sentence is hypocritical of me: I adore Christmas lights, wish they went up in July, and feel there is no such things as too many of them.  The guy who choreographed his lights to the music of the TransSiberian Orchestra is my hero.)

Herewith, the Barenaked Ladies ode to labor, “Elf’s Lament”:

And the wonderful send-up of those of us who believe that, when it comes to Christmas decoration, more is always more, “Fifty Kilowatt Tree” by The Bobs:

*Or contemporary religious songs, either.  Whomever wrote that godawful “Christmas Shoes” country song a few years ago should be taken out and have a stake of holly driven through his heart.  Or mistletoe.  Something suitably druidic and Yule-flavored.


**Except for Bruce Springsteen’s version of “Santa Claus is Coming to Town.”  Bruce rocks, in every possible sense of that verb.

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How to tell you’re a lawyer….

In my last post, I said I have to say I rather like the opinion, aside from its outcome.” 


Um, yeah. 

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South Florida does it again.

Let’s hear it for environmental regulation.  Or not.   The Supreme Court has denied cert for Friends of the Everglades v. South Florida Water Management District.  

I ended up reading about this case, which I was unaware of since it happened across the country from me, because of the Supreme Court’s refusal to hear it.  And I am appalled.   For once, I am not appalled at the Supreme Court.  And, as much as I hate to say it, I think the 11th Circuit reached the proper decision.  No, in this case I am really annoyed at the EPA.

The issue at hand in this case is whether water transfers — moving water from one “navigable body of water” to another — require permits under the Clean Water Act.  In this case, the transfer involved pumping water from the navigable (and very polluted) waters of Army Corps of Engineers drainage canals uphill through pumping stations to canals feeding into into the waters of Lake Okeechobee, which, in the natural order of things, would feed into the Everglades.  As it is now, the land south of the lake has been drained (starting in the 1930s), but attempts to restore the Everglades (an incredibly sensitive habitat) involve undoing at least some of that.

In prior decisions, courts had rejected the “unitary waters” theory, which argues essentially that all navigable waters are part of a whole, and so an entity did not need a permit under the Clean Water Act before the transfer of the pollutants.

So… the EPA, while the case was winding its way through the court system, adopted a regulation which specifically exempted water transfers from the permitting requirements.  Thanks, guys. And the 11th District, reluctantly but properly,* stated that this decided the case in favor of the Water Management District… and against the environment.  And the Miccosukee Tribe, which had argued that the pollution threatened their way of life.**

Lake Okeechobee is already polluted:  the levels of phosphorus in the lake are about four times the legal limit.  Allowing for the dumping of still more pollutants into it will just make things worse.

The real problem underlying all of this is nonpoint source (NPS) pollution.  In Florida (and California, as well), this often means agricultural runoff.  (In New York, it would be more likely municipal runoff.) It is noteworthy that one of parties in this suit (on the side of the Water District, of course) was the United States Sugar Corporation. The canals, which  drain farmland, were contaminated by pesticides and fertilizers.  Agricultural concerns have an interest in having the disposal of runoff be as easy as possible.

Just to clarify, since the runoff is not regulated when it flows into the canal, this decision means that the runoff is not regulated at any point between the field and the lake. Yes, this is a big loophole: but, as the judge noted in his opinion, an even bigger loophole is the Act’s refusal to regulate NPS to begin with, and its specific exemption for agricultural runoff and discharges from the definition of “point sources.”  As Judge Carnes said:

What this illustrates is that even when the preamble to legislation speaks single-mindedly and espouses lofty goals, the legislative process serves as a melting pot of competing interests and a face-off of battling factions. What emerges from the conflict to become the enactment is often less pure than the preamble promises. The provisions of legislation reflect compromises cobbled together by competing political forces and compromise is the enemy of single-mindedness.

This decision has the possibility of affecting far more than the state of Florida.  It essentially means any navigable water, no matter how pristine or environmentally sensitive, is potentially at risk, if it receives flows from any other navigable water with pollutants.

That’s scary.  And all of this pushes the restoration of the ‘Glades — one of the lost or endangered natural wonders of North America — further down the line.

And that’s just sad.

* I have to say I rather like the opinion, aside from its outcome.  The opinion’s author, Judge Edward Carnes, wrote an understandable opinion that was not unsympathetic to the plaintiffs.  He also quoted country singer John Anderson’s ode to the lost Everglades, “Seminole Wind.”  That’s just cool.


** SFWMD  has tried to shaft the Miccosukee in regards to tribal remains, as well. 

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Good things come in threes.

I have now made more posts this year than any year since I started the blog, and I did not start until late April, and I still have a month to go.

I made a killer chocolate pie over the weekend, from a recipe I developed all by myself from scratch.  (It’s a simple recipe, with only a few ingredients, but I still think it’s cool that I took the initiative to try.)

And…

The Fire Mountain Gems ad featuring the Christmas tree I made for their 2008 Beading Contest, originally used in the December issue of Beadwork magazine, has been reprinted on the back of Bead Unique. We are talking a full-page, full-color ad in a nationally distributed magazine.  Featuring my work. For the second time. Hot damn.  I just wish I could find some way to work it into my resume or my LinkedIn profile.

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I’m sorry for my sporadic posting as of late.  It is likely to continue.  Jan (the laptop) died — the Rocket Scientist spent about twelve hours over the weekend troubleshooting and replacing the hard drive (which means taking the darn thing completely apart — great design there, Apple) not once but twice (the first drive turned out to be defective) and troubleshooting the battery.

Right now everything is flaky.  System Preferences won’t open, mail won’t work.  Even Bejeweled keeps dying.  I am hoping that cleaning everything out, reloading the operating system and doing a simple drag and drop rather than using the restore software will clear everything up, but the replacement disks for the operating system (which have mysteriously disappeared and which had to be reordered) won’t be here for a few days.  And it will take me a full day to get all the files back on line.

For a while I thought I had lost everything, although I thought I had backed up recently.  (Turns out I had not backed up since 10/29.  Bad, bad me.)  I thought I had lost all my job search work, and more importantly, in terms of sunk time and irretrievable effort, the trivia book I had been working sporadically on since 2006.  (I have not done anything with it in at least a year, but I always knew it was there and have been thinking of getting back to working on it. Arguably, once I get the references in shape, I have enough material to actually produce a book, although I have less material than my goal, which was 1000 questions.  I have about 725.)  For a little while, I could not decide whether to throw up or cry.  Fortunately, I have been able to locate both the book and some of my resumes and cover letters.

So, I will have occasional access to other computers, and hopefully at least Firefox will run on this computer.  (Word also seems to run.  Hopefully it will keep doing so.) I never thought I’d say it, but thank God for Gmail.  But I am not holding my breath — I expect Firefox to die any moment.

So, you’ll see me when you see me.  I hope I can get to my post-in-progress, regarding the show Criminal Minds and the challenge to Prop 8 (for you lawyers out there, it’s actually a post about standing in death penalty cases).  Not to mention my usual musings on the season.

I think I can get one more post out this evening. 

Take care, folks.

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Oh, what the heck, while I’m at it…

This is my brownie recipe.  I know it by heart, but I know other people who have asked for it.


Pat’s Damn Good Brownies

1 stick Crisco butter flavored shortening. You can use butter, but as far as I’m concerned the texture won’t be right.  Edited to add: 1 stick of Crisco is one cup.  If you do decide to use butter, you will need TWO sticks.
2 cups sugar
4 eggs
2 tsps vanilla
3/4  good cocoa: I use Penzey’s High Fat Natural Cocoa, but Ghiradelli works.  Best of all is Vahlrona or Scharffen-Berger, which I have been known to use for very special occasions.
1 cup all-purpose flour
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt
1 cup good chocolate chips (Ghiradelli or Guittard)

Preheat oven to 325. Melt shortening in large microwaveable bowl, add sugar.  Beat eggs in one at a time, beating thoroughly after each addition.  Stir in vanilla.  Stir in cocoa (I usually use about 3/4 cup + 1-2 tbs). Stir in flour, baking powder, and salt. Add chocolate chips.  Pour batter into 13 x 9 pan. Bake for oh, about 30 – 35 minutes (check to see if a knife come out clean, or with only a few fudgy crumbs on it). I generally start checking about 28 minutes, and check every 5 after that.

And if you are so inclined…


Easy Mint Icing

2 large bars Ghiradelli (or Lindt) mint chocolate (the solid ones, not the ones with the mint creamy filling)
Heavy whipping cream: 1 oz per 2 oz chocolate

Shave or food process chocolate bars into small pieces, place in glass or metal bowl.  Heat cream until just short of boiling.  Pour cream over chocolate, let sit a few minutes.  Stir thoroughly — keep stirring until cream is totally incorporated and mixture starts to stiffen.  Let cool completely, spread over cooled brownies.

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Recipe: Vegetarian Cornbread Stuffing/Dressing

This was developed over the years from a recipe my mother-in-law gave to my husband.  While this version is vegetarian (at least the part NOT used to stuff the turkey), it really is much better using chicken stock rather than vegetable stock. Note: while I love this stuff, it does essentially take two days to prepare.  It also makes a LOT of stuffing.

Day (or evening) 1:

2 red bell peppers
2 medium onions
4 stalks celery
1 stick butter
Double recipe cornbread (I use the recipe off of the Quaker Corn Meal Box — it makes two nine inch rounds)
Twelve pieces bread (this year I used half sourdough and half standard buttermilk)
1/2 – 1 tsp kosher salt
2.5 tbs Bell’s Poultry Seasoning
1/2 – 1 tsp ground chipotle pepper

Chop peppers, onions and celery in food processor.  Fine, but not too fine (definitely not pureed). Saute veggies in butter until soft.  Let cool completely, place in Ziploc and refrigerate until ready to use.

Toast bread in oven on low heat, until thoroughly dried.  Crumble dried toast and cornbread thoroughly (you can process them, but it make the final texture smooth — some people are okay with this, others prefer more chunkiness) in a large bowl.  Add salt, poultry seasoning, and chipotle. Mix thoroughly.

Next morning:

Veggie mixture
Cornbread/bread mixture
1 stick butter
2 eggs, beaten thoroughly
3-5 small cans vegetable broth

Mix together veggies and crumb mixture.  Cut up butter into very small chunks, mix into crumb/veggie mixture.  Add eggs.  Add broth one can at a time until the proper consistency is met.  The dressing should be wet, but not dripping. (Minimum 3 cans.)

Use to stuff turkey.  Put excess in 13 x 9 pan, cook at 375 until brown on top, 35 – 40 minutes.

Eat for three days, along with leftover turkey and cranberry pineapple sauce.  Best thing to do?  Make sandwiches with stuffing spread on one side, turkey in the middle, and cranberry sauce on the other, preferably on sourdough bread.

Oh, the turkey?  Rub with Penzey’s Bicentennial Rub.  Pat down with a stick of butter, softened, with more rub in it.  Bake at 425 for 15 minutes, then drop temperature to 325.  Pull turkey briefly from oven, cover with cheesecloth saturated with olive oil, return to oven.  Cook for about ten minutes per pound, until turkey hits 165, basting every 20 – 30 minutes. Pull off cheesecloth when you estimate it’s about  20 minutes until done, so the skin can brown.

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Recipe: Cranberry & Pineapple Sauce, Key Lime Pie

Cranberry & Pineapple Sauce

I’m just putting this here so, no matter what happens, I’ll have it available, since it is a recipe I developed this year.

1 cup pineapple juice
1/2 can chunk pineapple, drained and chopped — where you get the pineapple juice from! (chopped chunk pineapple has more structure than crushed pineapple)
1/2 cup white sugar
1/2 cup dark brown sugar
1 package cranberries (I believe it was a pound, but can’t remember: I think it was four cups)
1/2 cup dried cranberries
pine nuts or pomegranate seeds (optional)

Edited to add: adding chipotle, crystallized ginger, and powdered star anise makes this, according to the Red-Headed Menace, the most kick-ass cranberry sauce ever.

Dissolve the sugars in the pineapple juice in a large saucepan.  Bring to a boil, and add both types of cranberries.  Cook until the fresh cranberries have pretty much exploded. — this will take probably 10 – 15 minutes. (I can’t really explain it — you have to see it.) Pull off heat, add pineapple, let cool completely.  Refrigerate overnight.  If desired, the next day just before serving stir in pine nuts or pomegranate seeds.

Key Lime Pie

This is pretty much Emeril Lagasse’s recipe, except that Emeril makes his own pie shell, and places sour cream on top. And no ginger.

1 graham cracker pie crust
2 cans of sweetened condensed milk
2 eggs
1 cup Key lime juice (note: do NOT use regular lime juice, the pie will not be tart enough.  You can either juice Key limes — annoying little buggers — or buy Key lime juice (available in some supermarkets).)
1/4 cup crystallized (sugared) ginger, chopped fine

Bake graham cracker crust according to directions, let cool completely.  (Or not.  I use mine without cooking — the Keebler elves tell me I can — and the pie turns out fine.)

Preheat oven to 325.  Whisk together the eggs, lime juice, and condensed milk.  Pour into the pie shell, bake for 15 minutes.  Sprinkle chopped ginger on top.  Refrigerate for two hours, at least.

My family likes it.

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Some people may have simply too much time on their hands:  The Reformation in Lego.

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