bonnie

It’s the Middle of the Night and I’m Googling How to Use the Spackle

BY bonnie

For a long time I was completely against owning my own home. Because the thing about renting is that when shit goes wrong, it’s not your (financial) problem. I love that. But something changed at some point. It might have been when the housing market crashed and it seemed as though owning a home might be within my grasp. It might have been that moment when my landlord told me that I wasn’t having a jumping spider infestation in the extra bedroom because spiders – and this is a direct quote – “don’t come in through windows.”

And so we tried to get a house. But it was ridiculously difficult. Lower housing costs just made the lower-priced homes an investor’s dream and the market became rather like great white sharks frantically bidding on seals on eBay.

Shut up. That metaphor totally makes sense.

So for one reason or a bunch – and in hindsight it was obviously a good thing for a few reasons – we never were able to buy a home and I’ve been trapped in this apartment for too long.

Long story extremely short, I own a home now. I mean. I still wish someone else was in charge financially. But if my bathtub is going to have gaping holes in it for more than two years those are going to be MY holes. (KNOCK WOOD. Dear Universe, no holey bathtubs, please, ok? Kthx.)

I’m a strange awake-all-night mixture of excited and terrified. This has been a dream and a hope for so long, but now that it’s here I feel all panicky and I’m wondering why the hell I did this and what the hell was I thinking? I’m told this is actually a normal part of the home buying process. If that’s the case, then I have to respectfully ask why realtors can’t prescribe Ambien or some sort of sleep aid. Because this sleeping like Edward Cullen shit is for sparkly-ass vampires, not for single moms who have to figure out how to install vertical blinds tomorrow morning. I mean this morning.

I get the keys in a few hours now. I plan to buy my kids lunch and eat it on the floor of the new apartment. And then make a master to do list for the next few weeks. A list which will include things like: fixing up an apartment, painting, cleaning, packing, moving, cleaning, starting school, and coming up with a homeschooling plan for the next school year that actually starts in only two weeks. OK. Now that I’ve written that out I can see how overwhelming it is. So, Brain? All the more reason TO GO TO SLEEP.

This is a Woman

Talking Sexism at the Home Depot. Like You Do.

BY bonnie

The other day I was at Home Depot in line behind two kids buying candy bars (which was… weird. I mean. In my day we bought our candy bars at 7-11). A little girl, about eight, paid for the candy for herself and her older brother. I don’t really know what was going on because, I mean, lots of reasons. Because I was thinking about my own purchases (sadly candy-free), because I am notoriously oblivious, and because it’s really none of my business. I guess I assumed a parent had given her some money for her to share with her brother and planned to meet the kids just beyond the entrance.

It was the cashier’s comment that caught my attention.

“When you’re older, promise to never pay for a boy again, ok?”

Like. What?

It’s this weird sexualization of children, I think, that bothered me more than the sexism itself – although I hadn’t dug that deep quite that quickly. I just knew the whole thing felt inappropriate to me.

Inappropriate? Yep.

It’s not appropriate to make every thing a child does about their future sexuality. It’s not appropriate to make blanket demands of a little girl about what kind of woman she should be once she’s grown. I know the cashier didn’t mean it that way and I know that so many people every day make comments like that with completely innocent intent. And that’s the problem, really. That we are conditioned by society to think that something dark is innocent, and then we, in turn, condition the next generation. It’s the building blocks of the patriarchy.

And to be clear here I am not saying that it is sexist for a woman to allow a man to pay. I’m not saying she should always or even sometimes pay. I don’t know. I don’t give a shit what people do. I can’t make rules like that because every person and situation is so different. A wise friend once, in giving me step-by-step dating instructions (because sometimes 30-somethings need that sort of thing), told me that it’s generally best, in the beginning of the relationship at the very least to just follow social tradition and expect that the man will pay. That makes total sense. So, you see, I am not, in any way, against women allowing men to pay for dates or candy at the Home Depot.

But to tell a child who you don’t even know that there is just one way that things are done – to make her promise to follow that particular social norm – feels wrong to me. To assume that the things she is doing today are ultimately leading up to a romantic encounter at some point years from now is gross on every possible level. We are so used to doing this sort of thing that we don’t even see what it is that we are doing. Because the sexualization of children isn’t limited to the obvious. It’s not just t-shirts for kindergarteners that say “FLIRT” across them. Every time we align a child with an adult’s sexual role, we are sexualizing the child. Every time you make a comment about a toddler having a boyfriend, or how a baby boy is going to break girls’ hearts someday, you are making adult comments about a not-yet-sexually-mature person. This girl at Home Depot wasn’t on a date. This girl didn’t even have boobs yet. She was wearing a bright yellow summer shift dress with her hair up in a ponytail – she could not have looked more eight-years-old if she’d tried. As she and her brother left he asked her what the cashier said and the girl grinned and told him, “I’m not allowed to pay for boys ever again.”

I was going to just let the whole thing go because, honestly, I can’t police the entire world. Even though I’d be really, really good at it, I just can’t tell everyone how to live and then make sure that they follow my rules. But the cashier dragged me into it.

“Don’t you think so, though? That she should never pay for a man?”

“Uh. Well. I guess I just don’t think we should reinforce gender roles in kids.”

You guys. I have social anxiety. I scored a 92 on this test. It’s really hard for me to talk to people I don’t know, let alone have opinions at them. But I was being asked a direct question and I couldn’t just pretend to agree because I am just as physically incapable of being inauthentic in that way as I am physically incapable of making small talk. This is me. I can’t talk about the damn weather if you paid me, but I will get directly into a deep discussion on sexism and gender expectations for children within five minutes of seeing you for the first time ever. I might be shaking and unable to make eye contact, but we will have this conversation.

Thank god I’m cute.

Then the lady told me – I swear I am not making this up – “It’s not like I told her to not be a lesbian or anything.”

I blinked. I tried to connect the dots. I blinked some more. What?

“I didn’t think you were,” I said. “It just reminds me a little bit of when my daughter broke her tooth last summer and the dentist told her that girls can’t skateboard.”

That pushed a button. “It’s nothing like that!”

“It kinda is, though. I just don’t think we should make blanket statements based only on her gender for her entire life right now.”

And at that point the cashier totally switched gears. I don’t know if she actually meant it when she told me that I was right and she just hadn’t looked at it that way or if she’d made a decision to let the crazy feminazi think she’d converted a sexist-heathen to the flock so she could get on with her day of selling lumber and Snickers. I’d love to believe I’d had some impact on how she sees things, but I just really don’t know that people are that willing to change viewpoints that quickly for someone they’ve never even met.

What are your thoughts on this? How would you feel if someone told your daughter something like that? Would it bother you or would you feel comfortable with it? Do you feel like it’s part of sexualizing children, or is it strictly a gender role comment?

Review, This is a Woman

Where I Pimp the New Prison Show

BY bonnie

actual line from this fucking show

Things I love about Orange is the New Black:

1. The theme song by Regina Spektor.
Think of all the roads
Think of all their crossings
Taking steps is easy
Standing still is hard
-“You’ve Got Time”

Those lyrics are my new favorite lyrics.

2. The diversity.
The cast is made up not only of really freaking awesome actors (Natasha Lyonne! Lordy how I love her), but it’s also by far one of – if not the – most diverse casts I’ve ever seen. We’re not talking Hollywood-style diversity where the fat chick is a size 12 and/or wacky or stupid in some way. I’m talking actual damn diversity. In color, but also in size and shape and age and sexuality and gender and religion and personality. I cannot express how much I love seeing reality actually represented on television for once. Way to go, Netflix! Take note, Hollywood.

3. The humor.
Refer to the above chicken comment.

4. The heartbreak.
I mean. I don’t, like, love when my heart breaks. Or at least it’s not socially acceptable to just admit that you kinda actually love stories that make you cry like a baby. At least not using the words “heartbreak is super cool, guys!” So let’s just say that the writing makes you love the characters so much that when something heartbreaking happens you’re right there with them. Grab kleenex.

5. The character depth.
In flashbacks throughout the episodes you get to know the characters through their backstories, and you begin to see how people can come to make the terrible choices they make from time to time. It teaches sympathy, I think, for people who really are in federal prison right now. They each have their own story, too. They aren’t just faceless villains, they have stories full of heartbreak and love and humor, too.

6. The writing.
See again the chicken comment. Actually, I mostly just wanted a chance to refer to the chicken comment. I mean, really, all these other items on this list are basically talking about how awesome the writing is. This whole paragraph is redundant. But when chickens are involved I’m totally OK with that.

I really can’t recommend this show enough. Speaking for TIAW, this is exactly the kind of show I want to see more of in the future. Well-written shows filled with diverse, real-looking actors playing characters complex enough to be real. Imagine if all shows were like that. If we all saw ourselves represented in the media. I don’t doubt body image issues would begin melting away. So go watch it. And love it.

Lady Links, This is a Woman

Lady Links 8.9

BY bonnie

$awesome at math$

~TIAW on Tumblr and Pinterest.
~This was going around a couple of weeks ago. It’s a comparison (using… food?) of porn to real-life sex. I have not actually seen a crapton of porn in my life, so I find it interesting that many of these numbers were a surprise to me. I guess it goes to show how much influence porn has over our cultural view of sex. *sigh*
~This is a really interesting article. I started skimming it the other day and got about 30% of the way through before I had formed a solid opinion. Now that I’ve finished it, however, I don’t know really what to think. In the article, a thin woman who struggles with her own body image (as many women of all sizes do) makes a comment about not wanting to be fat. Was it a derogatory comment, biased against overweight? Absolutely. But do thin women not get to talk about their own body image issues just because they are thin? That’s not really fair either, is it? Perhaps we should do that thing here where we listen openly to everyone’s point of view, and together we can gently discuss these issues. Maybe that way we can grow together and finally end this body hatred too many women of all sizes and shapes suffer from.
~”To suggest that one’s belly, body hair or tattoo is ‘distasteful’ and should therefore be covered in the name of etiquette is the very worst sort of body fascism. If your children are traumatised by the sight of a fat person in a bikini, a bit of cellulite or a caesarean scar, then may I tentatively suggest that you aren’t raising them correctly. If seeing someone hairy wearing something skimpy renders you ‘unable to eat your lunch’ then I’m afraid my diagnosis is the problem is with your brain, not their body. We are all naked underneath our clothes. We all have a body and few of them are anatomically ‘perfect’. Grow up.” <-- From this article.
~Dear Men, “You shouldn’t be a feminist because you want to protect your womenfolk, or because you think it’ll get you laid. You should be a feminist because you should fucking be a feminist.” Word.
~I really really REALLY don’t understand how a shirt insinuating that girls can’t do math gets through the production process without someone in the company pointing out that, hey, you guys? maybe this is a tad sexist? WTF, Children’s Place? Still, this post brings up some other questions dealing with the more subtle layers of gender-designed clothing. I know when I was pregnant with my son in 2005 and did not know his gender it was really hard to find gender-neutral newborn clothes. Once he was born, it was really hard to find boy clothes without sports stuff on them (we are so not sports people). It’s worth thinking about.

Just Life, Onwards, The Zebra

Begin.

BY bonnie

It’s been just over two years since my mom died. But I could swear it’s just been one.

I mean, I can account for all the time that passed, and I remember things that happened in that time, but somewhere along the way I feel like I essentially lost 2012. It’s okay. It sounds dramatic to write it out like that, but I assume it’s just part of what grief is.

Well, and recovery from The Worst Year Ever. In 2011 my ex-husband and I split up and just as I was getting my life in order, my mom died leaving me her only heir to clean up her mess (literal mess – it was a hoarder’s house), while in the middle of that (luckily I had wonderful people help me with it) my face and hands suddenly went numb for some reason. I swear I was living Betty Draper’s life what with the dead mom and numb hands. WTF, even? I mean. Of ALL the fictional worlds to mimic, my life goes with Mad Men? NO, LIFE, NO. PICK HARRY POTTER INSTEAD, MKAY?

And so when 2011 was over… I mean. I don’t even honestly know. 2012 happened, somehow. I went to Disneyland a lot. That was probably just as effective as Prozac. I wasn’t really depressed, or maybe I just wasn’t severely depressed. But I certainly wasn’t exactly awake. There were some dark times. The anniversary of her death hit me really hard and most of July was bleak. I braced myself this year for another difficult summer, but it wasn’t nearly the same. It was okay. And I’m sure it would have even been normal except that I’ve spent all of this year holding my breath for other reasons.

I feel like I’ve essentially lost a couple of years now. Things are so different, I don’t even recognize my life from three years ago. I’ve had to let go of a lot. For practical reasons, as well as out of kindness to myself.

I remember when I was a kid I had a list of things that would make my life perfect, or that would mean my life had begun. I know better now than to think life isn’t happening all the time. I may wait for certain things, but I don’t stop living while I wait.

Even so I feel a little like that that younger version of myself now. Like I’ve spent the last two, almost three years, waiting. And that’s not such a big deal for me as an adult with many years under my belt, but three years is a massive chunk of my kids’ childhoods and I feel a little resentful that it’s been stolen from me or them or us or someone. Or no one. I don’t think my kids have noticed, really. But, because of grief, these last few years have been sleepy and surreal for me, and I guess that colors my perception of things.

But now I’m a student. And I am probably/hopefully/most likely/with any luck moving soon to a place of my own. And my divorce is final now. And, I’m a little bit hesitant to say it because of the way the last few years have felt, but I almost feel like my life is about to begin.

Life isn’t what they tell you. It’s not grow up, go to college, fall in love, buy a house, have the babies, be happy, do good in the world, die a peaceful death when you are old and have lived a good long life. It’s grow up in a fucked up alcoholic-hoarder home, feel too stupid to go to college, have zero plans, be essentially asleep in life, get married, have the babies, accidentally start a feminist movement online, finally wake up, get divorced, lose your alcoholic-hoarder mom, go back to school, try to buy a house, live until you are eleventy-one making a difference in the world all the while. It doesn’t look at all like I was promised when I was a little girl. Life isn’t neatly packaged. It’s awkward and convoluted and messy. Life isn’t linear. Life is a web, everything connected to everything. And that’s okay. That’s beautiful. But you have to know what you are looking at to see the beauty. If you expect linear, a messy web isn’t going to look nice. Expect the web. Know now that life is messy and that makes it beautiful.

Geek, This is a Woman

The Doctorette

BY bonnie

See what I did there? DO YOU SEE WHAT I DID THERE?

If you are a Whovian you probably know they’ve announced the actor who will play the next Doctor, after Matt Smith leaves the show later this year. If you are not a Whovian, you might want to keep reading anyway because this deals with more than just nerd stuff. If you don’t know what a Whovian is, get thee to Netflix right now and start watching Doctor Who. You’re welcome.

Brief summary for non-Whovians: The Doctor is a time-travelling alien (known as a Time Lord) from the planet Gallifrey. Instead of dying, the Time Lords have the ability to regenerate into a new body. This process happens with various levels of control involved – the Time Lady Romana chose her second incarnation, the Second Doctor was offered a choice of several images by the Time Lords as part of a forced regeneration (SPOILERS), and the Ninth Doctor calls it a “dodgy process” and states that me might wind up with two heads, or no head at all. My understanding, or feeling, is that the amount of control over the process is in proportion to how much one is injured at the time, or how rushed the process is. Since the Doctor is nearly always dying when he regenerates, he has very little control over how he winds up looking, and it is insinuated that he’s just lucky to have so far always had the usual number of limbs.

So the debate, then, is what happens if the Doctor regenerates as a woman?

He’s not going to just yet – the next actor to play the Doctor is also a man. While I’d love to see the Doctor played by a woman someday, I really am relieved it’s not happening right now because the current head writer of the show is fucking sexist as hell. I don’t want him having any control over a female Doctor, and I don’t want him in charge of setting the precedent. Luckily, he seems to be against the idea of the Doctor regenerating into a woman anyway; yesterday he gave this quote: “I like that Helen Mirren has been saying the next doctor should be a woman. I would like to go on record and say that the Queen should be played by a man.” WHAT EVEN THE FUCK, MOFFAT?

Here’s a great post listing all the reasons Moffat is a douchebag.

But that’s not what I wanted to write about today. There are plenty of posts about why we need a female Doctor (and probably just as many posts arguing that he should always be male). What I wanted to share was the process I went through before accepting the idea that he might someday switch genders.

I think we, as humans – actually, perhaps more correctly, within our collective society – are more strongly tied to gender than the Time Lords must be. I know the Doctor as a man. He has always been a man. We become tied to the identities of the people we know. I suspect this is mainly cultural – if a person wants to change their first name, they are met with resistance from the people around them, yet if a woman wants to change her last name when she gets married no one bats an eye. Changes to one’s identity are accepted so long as they fit within the norms we’ve been raised with. To have cultural norms is human and not necessarily always a bad thing, but we must keep in mind what is and is not cultural when we approach new experiences. So, culturally we feel the need for people to remain as they are; we feel safer in a world we know. Major life changes are upsetting, even if they wind up being okay in the end. That was the first aspect of things I needed to face. Just because I know the Doctor as a man doesn’t mean he won’t still be the Doctor as a woman. He is somewhat different in every incarnation – sassy, silly, dark, or light – but he is always the Doctor. He always loves humans, he always fights for good and peace and love, he always carries darkness with him, he’s never ginger, I’m always in love with him. Being a woman really won’t change any of those eternal aspects.

But, I reasoned, he calls himself a man. Therefore he must identify as a male. And then I began to think about this on a level that only the truly nerdy ever contemplate fiction with. Because English – or any human language – is not the Doctor’s native language. If the Time Lords have a biological ability to regenerate into other genders, I assume their language must deal with this in a uniquely Gallifreyan way. Sweden has recently adopted a gender-neutral pronoun into their language; it’s not an impossible concept. So the Doctor translates his language into what fits best with the people he’s surrounded by.

I think it boils down to the fact that we humans don’t have this biological ability built into us so it makes it hard for us to comprehend the idea that it might be a part of another species. Our discomfort with it is our issue, not the Doctor’s. Knowing that and embracing it – the idea that it IS hard to wrap my brain around – made it easier for me to wrap my brain around. Embracing my limits as a human enabled me to expand them. Which is some sort of inside-out catch-22 or something. It’s like a mobius strip of thinking (possible new tagline for this blog).

Besides, the subject has been broached before when Joanna Lumley played (one of) the Doctor(s) in this Red Nose day comedy bit that you need to watch right this second because it is awesome.

I have become completely comfortable with the idea of a female Doctor and I hope in the near future we get to meet her, just as I hope that in the near future we get to meet a Doctor of color. As long as Moffat is in charge I’m glad that he is not the one setting the precedent for what a female Doctor would be like, but someday I hope we get to see a woman drive the TARDIS.

Lady Links, This is a Woman

Lady Links 8.2

BY bonnie

It’s my half-birthday today! Sometimes people give me a weird look for saying that but dammit, I’m gonna have as many birthdays as possible. CAKE.

~TIAW on Tumblr and Pinterest.
~”The truth is many women will never regain the shape they had pre-pregnancy and there is nothing wrong with this.” <-- EXACTLY.
~So it turns out that making people feel like shit isn’t actually the first step to making them want to be healthy. WHO KNEW? /snarkasm
~This is a cool thread that poses the question, what would famous classical works of art look like if we applied today’s photoshopping techniques to them?
~Lululemon isn’t making plus-sized yoga pants to be KIND to plus-sized women. After all. They wouldn’t want to insult us by charging more and since that is the only option…
~Here’s a cute song that will make you realize that you actually have a lot more in common with velociraptors than you realized.
~Amanda Palmer is awesome. As usual.

Geek, Philosophy

Possible emo lyrics. Hang on. Just let me grab my eyeliner.

BY bonnie

“No one in the world ever gets what they want and that is beautiful. Everybody dies frustrated and sad and that is beautiful.” – They Might be Giants, Don’t Let’s Start

I love quote tattoos. But for a long time I could never think of a quote I’d get tattooed on me. Something that was general enough to speak for my life, without being cliché. Except for this one TMBG quote. But it is – on the surface anyway – so depressing that I’m not sure I am ready to commit to that, or actually to commit to always having to explain it to people.

I’m drawn to it, I think, because it takes things that we are frightened of – crushed dreams, death, depression – and tells you that these things are beautiful. It looks into the darkness of humanity and tells you that it’s OK, normal, part of life. It challenges you to take a second look at the hard things and find new ways to look at them. To try to see them as beautiful.

Also, I like the unusual cadence of the word “frustrated” in the song. Frust.RATE.ed. I’m kind of slutty for unusual cadence.

We all have darkness in our lives, and to pretend that we don’t isn’t going to make it go away. Rather we should face it, go through it, come out the other side. The quote speaks casually and openly about the worst aspects of life. No one gets what they want. Meh. Let’s go get pizza! Everyone dies frustrated and sad. So what? Don’t dwell on it, enjoy what you have here, instead! The casualness with which these terrible things are spoken of, gives me hope. It’s not flippant – these are the words of someone who’s been there and who can help you find your way.

Its theme of unity – that we’re all in this together – is encouraging, too. The hard parts of life are really shitty to have to face alone, but the idea that we’re all together, helping each other to get through it, encourages me. I feel less alone. And that is beautiful.

It’s OK to not get what you want. Sometimes that’s a big thing and you feel devastated. Sometimes it’a smaller thing that’s easier to move on from. Sometimes it’s a smaller thing, but you’re devastated anyway. It’s OK. You’re passionate. I am, too. But the devastation will go away and you’ll be able to see that it was a small thing after all. The point is that humans are amazing at adaptation. You will survive. And you’ll find beauty in it.

You’ll be frustrated and you’ll be sad. And you’ll face death. And you might have to do all three at once. But we all do. You are not alone. And that is beautiful.

Important life skills to know:
Cooking
Laundry
Interpersonal communication and “I feel” statements
Finding beauty in sadness, frustration, and not getting what you want
How to wax a car and how often it should be done

I’m pretty good at the first four. If anyone has any information about the last one, let me know, OK?

PS. Every time I read through this entry to edit it, I get the song stuck in my head again. So. I wonder if that would make for a terrible tattoo after all?

Geek, Recipes

The Best-Ever Gluten-Free Pumpkin Pasties

BY bonnie

I originally posted this a few months ago at my old blog after my daughter’s Hogwarts-themed birthday party, but I’m posting it here this week in honor of Harry Potter’s birthday. What do you mean you don’t celebrate the birthdays of fictional characters? It’s like I don’t know you at all.

I’ve finally found a kickass gluten-free pasty recipe. (That’s pass-tee, not paste-y. Just to be clear.) I’ve been trying to find one ever since we went gluten free and I’ve tried various ideas, but none have really worked very well. It’s the gluten that makes dough so flexible, so it’s hard to replicate in this sort of recipe where flexibility is so important. But these are not only workable, but they are strong and flaky. I’ve honestly never had any gluten-free pastry taste so gluteny. Everyone who has tried them has been really impressed with them – even the picky people. The original recipe for the crust is here, but I had to tweak it a little bit because my kids are sensitive to waaaay more things than just gluten. We’ve made this recipe with various meat fillings, too, and it’s delicious savory or sweet. I’m dying to try it with scrambled eggs and bacon or nut butter and jelly. For the pumpkin filling I used a modified version of the pumpkin pie recipe from the La Leche League cookbook. Here’s the whole recipe, put together.

For The Pastry
2 cups white rice flour
1 cup tapioca flour
1/2 cup quinoa flour
1/2 tsp salt
3 tsp xanthan gum
2 eggs
2 Tablespoons apple cider vinegar
1 cup icy water
1 cup palm shortening
1 egg, for glazing

In a large bowl mix together the rice flour, tapioca, quinoa flour, xanthan gum, and salt. Cut the palm shortening into the flour mixture using a pastry cutter. Continue mixing until the dough looks like small peas or a sand like texture.

In another bowl mix the apple cider vinegar, eggs, and cold water.
Slowly combine the liquid with the flour, kneading to incorporate all of the water.
Once all the liquid has been added knead for 1-2 minutes to ensure everything is combined well. The dough should be slightly sticky but not too wet.

UPDATE: Last time I made these I got lazy and mixed the dry ingredients and the fat in the stand mixer. I then slowly added the liquid and let the stand mixer do all that work, too. It was easy and worked just as well.

Cover the dough and refrigerate for 1 hour. (I didn’t really do this step because I am lazy.)

For The Filling

1/2 can butternut squash (I KNOW. Even the “pumpkin” is a lie. But you can totally use pumpkin.) (You can freeze the rest of the squash or double the pastry part of the recipe.)
1 egg
1/8 cup sugar
1 tablespoon molasses
1/2 teaspoon cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon ground ginger
1/8 teaspoon nutmeg
1/4 teaspoon vanilla

Mix all that together.

Putting It All Together

Preheat the oven to 425. Line two cookie sheets with parchment paper.

Take a palm-sized ball of dough (that’s palm of your hand, not palm tree, to be clear) and roll it smooth before flattening it into a circle. Drop a small dollop of the pumpkin mixture in the center and carefully fold the pasty in half, pinching it closed into a half-circle.

Once all your pasties are ready to go, brush with beaten egg to give them that pretty, shiny glaze. Put them in the over for 15 minutes at 425, then lower the temperature to 350 until the pasties are beautifully golden.

Lady Links, This is a Woman

Lady Links 7.26

BY bonnie

How long does it take to recover from a week like last week? I mean. Really. I’m still too flighty and distracted to get anything done. So here are the links I have for you. I didn’t make you a doodle this week. I’m sorry. Or maybe you’re welcome. One of those.

~TIAW on Tumblr and Pinterest.
~Here’s a cool video from the PBS Idea Channel about BMO from Adventure Time and what she represents for feminism. Hint: Adventure Time is fairly awesome.
~You need to see this. And share it with everyone.
~This article has a perhaps misleading headline, but is overall very SOAM-ish about Kate’s after-pregnancy body. And Kate? I think I love her.
~”No, I do not have something better to do with my time than try to make the world a better place for girls and women.”