That's what a hamburger's all about

During the summer between my freshman and sophomore years of high school I stopped eating red meat.

It was for no other reason than "just because," really. My dad had moved to California a couple years prior and at some point had given up red meat because everyone in California doesn't eat something, and I think he wanted to test his will power. So that summer I decided I would, too.

I learned that being a "poultritarian" is rather nice. It allows for nearly all the smugness of being a vegetarian, but with a lot more menu options. Plus, no worries about Mad Cow disease!

In the first few months I had some cravings--and even some relapses--but I quickly realized I could live without red meat. Soon the cravings became rare (ha!), and the ones I did have usually involved unexpected and rather disgusting things like Arby's roast beef sandwiches or Taco Bell. But I never gave in, and never really missed it.

Today, though, after not having eaten red meat for 17 years, I had a hamburger.

Why? Well, it wasn't to satisfy a craving as much as a curiosity.

You see, I had never had an In-N-Out Burger. To most Southern Californians--even some vegetarians I know--that would be considered blasphemy. In-N-Out has a cult following among...well, just about everyone. When people leave the west, In-N-Out is their first stop as soon as they're back within range. It's that kind of place.

When we started preparing for this journey of ours, I began to wonder what I was missing out on. How could I leave California without ever having tasted one of the state's unofficial-official foods?

Plus I realized that eating red meat again would make sense if we're going to experience the culinary treasures of different regions. What if I want a buffalo burger in Wyoming? I mean, I can't imagine that I would want a buffalo burger in Wyoming, but shouldn't I leave the option open?

I also know from past road trips that not all parts of the country are hospitable to non-beef-eaters. Once at a diner in Shamrock, Texas, I ordered the only "safe" option on the menu: cheese enchiladas. They came smothered in meat sauce.

So, it made sense to start eating beef again, and if I was going to do it, it would start at In-N-Out. Steve and I had talked about going for several weeks and finally decided to today. (Steve hadn't eaten red meat since we started seriously dating, so this was a big step for him, too.)

Before we got there I perused In-N-Out's "secret menu" online. I didn't want to look like a novice, after all. I ordered a cheeseburger with grilled onions and pickles (plus the standard toppings of lettuce, tomato, and "sauce"), and an order of fries, cooked "light-well" (more fried than normal, but not completely incinerated).

I half-expected that I'd realize how tasty beef is and devour the whole thing in one bite. I half-expected I'd throw up. Neither happened.

The burger was good. Very good, actually, especially for fast-food. Not "oh-my god-I-can't-believe-I've-gone-17-years-without-eating-this" good, but "I-see-the-appeal-and-will-likely-partake-again-someday" good.

One chapter in my life closes, and a new, higher-cholesterol one begins. I don't imagine that beef will become a regular staple of my diet, but when a craving strikes, I will sate it. When a regional dish beckons, I will answer the call.

Rocky Mountain Oysters, though, are definitely out.

Purging

Right now I'm reading a travel memoir by a woman who lost her house in the Southern California firestorms of 1994. Rather than rebuild or relocate, she and her husband bought an RV and traveled around the country.

I was mesmerized by her description of what it was like to lose her house. She and her husband fled as the fire unexpectedly rained down on their neighborhood, and when they went back the next day, the only thing still standing was their shower stall. Everything was gone, and she felt... relieved. Not devastated, but liberated.

Yes, she had lost some items of sentimental and monetary value, but she had also lost a bunch of crap. You know, all those clothes you never wear and keep meaning to go through but never do? All those trinkets you've accumulated to gather dust on a shelf? All the stuff?

When I first read that, I wasn't shocked--I could sort of relate. Obviously I haven't lost a house to a fire, but a couple years ago it looked like we would have to evacuate because of one. I had hours to pack up the car. I packed a suitcase of clothes and toiletries, some books and toys for Elias, his blanket, our lock-box and CDs of photos. The computer, food for the dog, camera, cell phone. And then I looked around. There were a lot of other things I could pack, but didn't. My journals from high school, jewelry, old letters... in the wake of a potential disaster none of it seemed that important.

Since then I've tried to use that philosophy--"Would you be devastated if you lost this in a fire?"--to clear out our extra junk. Sadly, I've never really gotten anywhere with it. Our house is full of stuff. Stuff.

Over the past couple weeks, we've been trying to get rid of everything we don't really need. Our stuff is weighing us down and we want to be liberated. More than once, Steve and I have wished that our house really would be consumed by fire so we won't have to go through everything, and then we curse the day we decided to put in the fire sprinklers.

We are making headway, though.

For example, I have cleared out a lot of my books. I'm a book-hoarder. When we moved into this house, Steve's parents paid to have someone build bookshelves to fit the cathedral ceiling in our living room and the closet in Elias's bedroom. The shelves were packed--and then some. I had saved nearly every book from nearly every history class I took in college just in case I ever wanted to read them again. For the same reason, I saved nearly every book I had purchased over the past decade. Of course I rarely even thought about, let alone read through, any of them, but I had to hold on.

Our trailer will only have a carrying capacity of about 3,000 pounds, though, so the books had to go. I sold some of them to an online bookstore that sells textbooks. I made about $100. Most of the rest got carted to the library for them to use or sell--about 300 in all. I still have several more that I'll either put in storage or re-read (for real) before we go, but I have made major headway.

Today I went through Elias's books. Those were harder to weed out since, unlike my books, those actually get read. I did select about 150 (about a quarter of the overall total) to sell at our upcoming garage sale or donate. A dozen or so will go with us in the trailer, and the rest will go into storage. I plan on rotating out the books each time we're back in California, and I'm going to try my best not to buy any more.

Oh, a Kindle or Nook is in my future.

What about our other stuff?

I have reduced our DVD collection to one large portfolio--the cases have gone into the recycling.

Thanks to iTunes, we can get rid of most of our CDs.

VHS tapes? Who needs those?

Photos will be kept, of course, in storage. We have a digital frame (still in the box after several years) that can hold lots of pictures in our new home.

Then there are my personal mementos. Papers from high school and college. Journals. Letters from old friends. Cards that people sent to my parents to congratulate them on my birth. Pictures I drew in kindergarten. All that stuff.

Over the years I whittled it down to three boxes. Today, I whittled it down to one. All I really needed to get rid of were my college notebooks. Why was I holding onto those anyway?

And that is the question I have been asking all day: Why am I saving this?

Why am I saving my college application essay? Why am I saving my drawings from kindergarten? The only time I look at them is when I'm going through boxes trying to get rid of them. Maybe my kids will enjoy looking at them someday, but maybe not.

Then there are my journals. I haven't read them since I wrote them, and yet... they're still here. Why? Will I ever actually look back at them? I can only hope my kids never do. Yet I couldn't bear to throw them away. They're a piece of my past and a piece of me. It's nice to have a reminder that I did have a life before adulthood, motherhood, and all that responsibility.

In that sense, I'm glad that we have the luxury to pick and choose what we'll keep and what we'll get rid of. Yes, it would be a relief not to have to do the work. Yes, in the long run, I doubt I'd care about losing my high school diploma or birth announcement. But as long as we have room in our tiny storage unit, there are some things I can't let go of just yet.

Wheel Estate, Part 2

In a previous post I discussed the fifth wheel we planned on getting: a Keystone Mountaineer (click for floor plan). For a while, it seemed like a great choice, but we started having second thoughts. As much as Elias loves the loft, we can't really get up there with him. We won't be able to snuggle, get him down if he's sick (or defiant...), or even make the bed with any sort of ease. And inevitably, he will, at some point, choose to jump down from the top.

We also wondered if it was too long, at about 38 feet. I worry about maneuverability and merging into traffic. Steve worries about being turned away from campgrounds with length restrictions.

So we zeroed in on a Cougar High Country. It's shorter, at about 32 feet. The reduction in length comes with a reduction in overall space, of course. Most important, there's not a lot of room for kids to play. We have pretty much decided that this one is too small for full-timing. (It also had some incredibly gaudy wood trim that we just couldn't get past.)

Then someone on my car seat message board posted a link to a Cedar Creek fifth wheel. Steve and I were both intrigued and couldn't wait to see one. The only snag: The model we want does not exist west of the Rockies. The closest unit is in Texas.

We did, however, find a dealer in San Diego that has other models in the same line. We figured we'd go look just to get an idea of the quality of the materials and construction, check the fabric options, see the storage space, etc.

Verdict: We LOVE it! Granted, we haven't seen the model we want in person, but based on the models we did see, coupled with numerous photos other dealers have posted online, it seems perfect. It has everything we want and more--including several things I had crossed off my wish list in defeat.

It has a desk! The TV sits across from the couch! There's counter space! There's a stainless steel sink with a pull-out nozzle! Joy!

It even has things I didn't know I wanted, like a fireplace (fake, but it does emit heat, supposedly) and retractable dog bowls under the fridge.

It has an outdoor kitchen (little sink, little stove, mini-fridge, some counter space) which could come in very handy for snacking/cooking while outdoors. If we decide we don't want the outdoor kitchen, we might be able to get a larger wardrobe for the kids instead.

There is only one pull-down bunk over a couch, but that's actually a good thing. We would ditch the couch and put in a toddler bed for Anna. I bought an extremely comfortable (and rather expensive) crib mattress before she was born, and I'd love to get some use out of it. By doing that, we might even create enough room to bring along the play kitchen.

Possibly best of all: There's room for a stackable washer-dryer. Some of the other units we've seen have room for a combination washer/dryer, but they take forever to do one load. I had resigned myself to making regular trips to laundry rooms/laundromats, but I'd like to avoid that as much as possible, especially since Anna is in cloth diapers, which I refuse to give up.

The only drawback: It's 41 feet long--three feet longer than the one I already thought was too long. It also has a Gross Vehicle Weight Rating of 15,500, and in California if you have a fifth wheel over 15,000 pounds, you need a Class A license. That requires Steve to go take a test similar to what big-rig operators take. He has to maneuver the trailer into a parking space, go over safety inspections, etc. I'm sure he'll have no problem passing, but it's one more thing to do.

We are still going back and forth about whether this is really the one we should get. If the size weren't so intimidating, it would be a no-brainer. We need to make up our minds soon, though: The house goes on the market in a month!

Types of RVs/Showing Some Restraint

Just a warning that this post will consist of two parts information, one part vent.

A long time ago Steve tried explaining the different types of RVs to me, but I never retained the information because I didn't need it. Then I suddenly did need to know the difference so we could decide what kind of RV we wanted.

Learning about them was actually pretty straightforward. There are several different types in two main categories: The kind you drive (Class A and C) or the kind you pull (trailers, fifth wheels).

We ruled out Class A and C right away (more on that in a minute). A slightly harder choice was deciding between a trailer and a fifth wheel. Both have their advantages and disadvantages. With a trailer, we could choose from a greater variety of tow vehicles. With a fifth wheel, we are limited to a pickup truck. On the other hand, because a fifth wheel sits on the bed of the truck, it is more closely coupled to the vehicle than one attached at the bumper, and therefore more stable. Because of the overlap, a fifth wheel offers a little extra space over a trailer of the same length. Despite the fact that we'd need to own a pickup, the overall benefits of a fifth wheel won out for me.

Now as to why we decided against a motorhome. First, they seem impractical to me. Unless you want to unhook your water and electric, slide in the slide-outs, and secure everything every time you need to run an errand, you're going to have to tow another vehicle. That means you have to maintain two engines, two drivetrains, etc.

The second reason is safety, which should come as no surprise to anyone who knows Steve or me. Motor homes typically have two seats that are suitable for traveling: the driver's seat and front passenger seat. There may or may not be seatbelts in other locations. Those seatbelts may or may not be bolted to the frame of the vehicle. Those seating locations may or may not be side-facing (a couch) or unobstructed (by a table).

Bottom line: There's unlikely to be anywhere to properly install child restraints or for more than one passenger of any age to ride safely. Also, the risk of being hit by a projectile in a crash increases significantly when you're riding down the highway IN your house.

Whether or not it's legal to ride unrestrained in an RV varies by state, but as we say in the Child Passenger Safety World, "The laws of physics know no boundaries." However, that doesn't stop people from doing it.

Maybe people feel they're protected because of the motorhome's size, but bigger doesn't mean safer. I have seen photos of a Class A crash, and it wasn't pretty. Cabinet latches don't hold well when the objects inside fly forward with hundreds of pounds of force.

I witnessed an RV crash once. Well, the aftermath of it. I was driving across the country with my mom. We were pulling off at an exit to get something to eat and I noticed a pickup with a fifth wheel driving by. When we got back on the highway traffic was stopped. We inched along, and about a mile later came to the culprit: The same fifth wheel and truck, lying on their sides at the bottom of a small embankment.

I don't know how many people were involved or what their outcomes were. What I do know is that although the truck and the trailer had both overturned, I would much rather be in the truck, properly secured, than free-floating in the trailer.

And this is where my vent comes in.

Just the other day Steve and I watched an RV Show on HGTV, and a dad they talked to really liked a fifth wheel, but settled on a Class A (or maybe C) because he didn't want his girls to be confined to the pickup while they were traveling. I have also been reading some message boards and blogs with posts from mothers who see it as an advantage to let their kids run around while the vehicle is moving.

The strange thing is that many of the parents who enjoy motor homes for their going-down-the-road freedom seem to also be the types who eat all organic (so little Bobby doesn't ingest any chemicals), clean with vinegar (so little Bobby doesn't inhale any fumes), eschew plastic toys (phthalates!), and ban TV (brain rot). Yet they see no problem with walking around a several-ton vehicle barreling down a highway at 60 mph.

Don't get me wrong: I'm not the World's Greatest Mom, nor do I play one on TV. I also don't blame parents for going natural/organic. It just seems that if you're going to protect your kids from artificial sweeteners, you might also want to protect them from the number-one cause of accidental death.

I have heard that lax attitudes about child passenger safety are common among RVers. (In fairness, they're common among the general population, too.) I'm sure we'll run into a lot of people who travel unrestrained and with unrestrained children. I don't like to give unsolicited advice because it is usually not well received, and frankly, it's none of my business. So I'll just bite my tongue and cross my fingers.

Playsilks

This is only tangentially related to the RV, but it's close enough (and cool enough) that I had to share.

If you have young kids you might be familiar with playsilks. If not, they're basically squares or rectangles of silk, dyed in fun colors, that kids can use for pretty much anything: a cape, a mask, a doll blanket, scenery for a car race, whatever.

I had wanted to buy some for Elias for years, but I figured he'd find them too foofy (he's like that sometimes). Plus, they're expensive: $10-15 each, plus shipping. I figured I'd get some for Anna someday, but hadn't gotten around to it yet.

Well, I was at a store with some friends the other day, and they had playsilks, so I decided I'd give 'em a try. Elias had been running around the house with a 4-foot length of satin ribbon lately, so maybe he'd be more amenable to them. I forked out $13 for one, $15 for the other (plus tax), and brought them home.

The good news was that the kids loved them! And what better toy to take with us in the RV than one that weighs next to nothing and takes up almost no room? The bad news was that buying more would cost a fortune.

Then I remembered having read about dying your own silk with Kool-Aid, so I looked into it. A quick google search of "playsilks kool-aid" brings up dozens of methods. I decided I had to give it a go! I ordered 9 silks of varying sizes for $2-$4 each from Dharma Trading Company (plus they threw in a 10th as a free gift).

All I had left to do was get some Kool-Aid. The kids and I had an early dinner the other night, so I decided to walk up to the store to get some dessert. Elias wanted a Hershey bar, and I wanted a slice of peach pie. They didn't have slices, though--only full pies. But it was my lucky day! Generic Kool-Aid ("Drink Mix") was on sale for 15 cents! Since I'd need a few packets for each silk, I loaded up. Then I got to the check-out counter, looked at my order of a candy bar, a pie, and 30 packets of Kool-Aid, and felt like Mom of the Year.

Anyway, the silks came and I got going. I'm not big on accuracy, so I read over some of the various instructions from other people's blogs, then decided to wing it.

I filled my large stock pot with hot tap water and a glug of white vinegar, then threw in the scarves to soak for a bit. In the meantime, I collected a few large plastic bowls with lids, got my Kool-Aid and Drink Mix organized, and started my first batch.

I put some hot water, another glug of vinegar, and two or three packets of Cherry Kool-Aid into one of the bowls and mixed it up. I then selected a scarf, threw it in, and mixed it around a little with a spoon. Next step: lid on and into the microwave for three minutes. (Yes, I realize whatever toxicity I avoided by using food-grade dyes I probably added back in by microwaving in plastic, but I don't really care as long as they don't get ingested.)

While the first batch was in the microwave, I mixed up the second, and so on. When a scarf came out of the microwave I'd stir it around a little. If there was still a lot of dye left in the bowl (in other words, it hadn't been absorbed) I might put it back in for another couple minutes. Or not. It just depended on how they looked.

Once all my bowls were used up, I started rinsing out the scarves to free up the bowls for others. Some of the colors rinsed out really easily. Some (ahem, RED!) still bled even after 10 minutes of rinsing. After a quick wash in the machine and even more rinsing, they still bled, but not enough that I cared anymore.

I hung them outside to dry, then let the kids play. Well, Anna played. Elias was busy with other stuff.

I have to say that they turned out really well. They're a bit mottled, but I think it makes them look nice. Gives them some character. If I had dyed them on the stove and kept them constantly moving they would have been more uniform, but I don't have the time or patience for that.

If anyone cares to try, here are my observations on the different colors: Red is hard. I tried two different reds (one Cherry Kool-Aid, one Black Cherry Drink Mix). They both started out vibrant, but once I rinsed out enough dye that they wouldn't bleed all over everything, they were much more muted. The Cherry is now more of a pastel red, if that makes sense. The Black Cherry, which had started out burgundy, is now a dusty mauve. It's actually quite lovely, just much lighter than it had been before.

The pink and yellow (Pink Lemonade and regular Lemonade Drink Mix) hardly bled at all. The pink probably came out the most uniform of all the colors. The Orange Kool-Aid produced my favorite color, but it was also the most mottled. That's probably my fault, though.

I couldn't find any blue Kool-Aid so I tried food coloring to make blue and teal. (The blue was a big squirt of blue. Teal was about 15 drops of blue and 2 of yellow.) The food coloring worked very nicely and rinsed clear immediately. It made me wonder if red food coloring would work better than red Kool-Aid.

Food coloring would also give my nose a break. The dried scarves don't have a scent, but making them was a fragrant process. The whole house smelled like a jellybean factory for several hours, and Elias kept asking for gummies. The scent was fun at first, but the novelty wore off pretty quickly. I think I might have also developed Kool-Aid lung from inhaling the powder. But these are the sacrifices I make for my children.

(Anna playing peek-a-boo with her Grape Drink Mix silk.)

Articles

I found two pertinent articles today.

First, one about people living in micro-houses. If you're going to have a house that small, it might as well be mobile.

Second, one about the states with America's worst drivers. California is number 4! I took the test and got a 95 percent.