Caren Gussoff writer. geek. bon vivant. dot com

I was staring out the bus window this afternoon, staring harder than usual. I’d forgotten my earphones, so I was trying to drown out the cacophony of naked humanity—Seattle’s bus system can be, let’s politely say, gritty and colorful, especially on an unseasonably warm February Saturday. As I started, I counted the number of luxury condominium complexes that have sprung up in the past few years, noting how almost all of them—no, shit, all of them–were now advertising specials, leasing, rentals, specials, move in nao plz! banners and signs, and it was worrying me. Not because of the poor investment and development companies who, due to greed, stupidity, and plain old bad timing, decided to develop overpriced housing in a country about to belly flop into recession, but for what it portends for my city.

Then I realized. My city. I was worrying about the health and welfare of my city.

After I graduated high school, I started moving around. I lived in Vermont for a time, then Florida, then a stint in Colorado for my BA, Chicago for my masters, and 2 years in Portland, Oregon. I’ve been in Seattle now for 10 years—the longest tenure in one place in my adult life—long enough to see it change. Some good changes, some bad changes, some changes that to me herald hardships to come, but I’ve lived here long enough to see change. And long enough to give a shit about these changes.

I never really expected to have civic pride. And I feel a little like a sports fan, pledging my allegiance to a thing that will never care about me, yet depends on me for its success.
Seattle’s a weird city. People are friendly and intelligent, but a little cold and stand-offish. Passive aggressiveness is de rigueur. The weather temperate and either way wetter or far less wet than you expect. The politicians are especially idiotic. Traffic is abysmal. It’s not super-duper diverse. We don’t have a particularly hopping nightlife. There are tons of bookstores but the libraries are on reduced hours. The attitude is both sophisticated and provincial. There isn’t a shitload of violent crime, but we lost like 7 policemen inside 6 weeks to shootings.

Seattle’s given me a lot: my husband, some good friends. Access to a stubbornly thriving literary community, an appreciation for wool socks and wild blackberries. A wealth of treasures discovered in people’s garbage, really scenic vistas, a habit of thanking the bus driver as I disembark, Norwescon, really good Thai food on every corner, a wicked coffee habit. The ability to never, ever-ever-ever again have to wear pantyhose if I don’t feel like it. A weird peace when I realize this weird-ass city is my home.

My weird city.

I have has a few publications this year that are eligible for Nebula and Hugo nominations, if you were, you know, feeling the spirit.

Also, Brain Harvest is eligible to be nommed for a Hugo semiprozine, and Eden, Shane, and I are ripe for the editors short form category.

Just sayin’. You know. *kicks some gravel*

I need a Hindi or Urdu speaker. Do you know one?

Love,
Caren

“Simplicity is the most difficult thing to secure in this world; it is the last limit of experience and the last effort of genius.” –George Sand

Why can’t I learn this lesson once, instead of once a month?

What lessons do you learn over and over again?

Of all the states I have ever lived in, Washington may be the most kind-hearted—and the most misguided.
One of the first bills to hit the docket in the 2010 state’s legislature was a proposal by the honorable Democratic State Sen. Rosa Franklin of Tacoma to change the language the state uses when referring to at-risk youth…to “at hope” youth.
Seriously. Read about it here:
“Democratic State Sen. Rosa Franklin, South Tacoma, says negative labels are hurting kids’ chances for success and she’s not a bit concerned that people will be confused by her proposed rewrite of the 54 places in state law where words like “at risk” and “disadvantaged” are used.”
OK, fine. We play nice. We change the wording in 54 places throughout state documents to the tune of $3500.
$3500.
This made me rant and rave and scream for a bit. Then my palms started sweating. In my mind, this nice, kind-hearted lady wants, truly, to help these kids. I know that her intentions are kind. But in my mind, rather than waste legislature time (which costs money) and waste $3500 on changing wording in documents no one ever reads—take that 3500, purchase 10 rebuilt computers from rePC or another local reseller, and start up a computer program at a community center, teaching kids the computer skills they would need to go to college or become more competitive in the workplace. 10 rebuilt computers in a community center open for 4 hours after school 5 days a week could serve ~10 – 30 students per session, up to 150 students per week.
I dare someone to tell me that this would not do more for assisting at risk, disadvantaged youth more than talking about them in sweet innuendos.
Help people by HELPING people. Get the resources into the community, not the dusty documents that refer to the community—which will do nothing other that maybe earn this nice, kindly older lady another term representing Tacoma.
I was at risk, disadvantaged. I didn’t care what you called me, what the state called me. If I was even AWARE of what they called me, that is—which I pretty am well sure I had no clue. I cared what my mentors called me and I cared when my parents were involved and encouraging. I cared when someone took the time to help me build my skills and my self esteem. That’s what got me through high school, to college, then even into graduate school. Then, ultimately, into a life where this seems SO OBVIOUS.

Muchly for my own ref, but maybe you like to geek out about speculative numbers, too:

“How Many People Have Ever Lived on Earth?“

Now that the glow of the holidays is starting to blow away like so much marine fog, and the tins and tins of holiday cookies are making me fatter and malnourished, it’s time to start cooking again.

My last post on this topic urged y’all to learn to or start cooking yourself. But I realized that I’ve left out one of my most treasured and hard-won-through-mass-experimentation (trying to figure out what to cook for a vegan) cooking tip: how to use the cans of stuff I know you have in your pantry.

For some reason or another, just about everyone winds up with some combination of the following cans, stuck in the back of their kitchen cabinets: green beans, peas, beets, tomatoes, asparagus, beans (usually red kidney, although sometimes black), and pumpkin. I bet you do too. Right? The stuff no one eats because it’s all mushy, bland, or leftover from more exciting things (like pie).

So, here’s what you do. Make soup. Get down your trusty blender and whip some of these cans of stuff that no one eats but everyone has into a flavorful (and somewhat creamy feeling base) for soup.  It’s great for vegans who miss the thickness of a chowder, really good for “hiding” veggies for veggie-haters (whoever they are), and a really nice way to throw together a delicious, fresh soup on the fly for cheap (or free, really).

Trust me.

Take the can of peas, asparagus, and green beans, drain the liquid, dump them all into a blender and whip until you have a smooth, turtle green slop. Put in a pot; add onions, garlic, other veggies, salt, and pepper. Thin it down with broth, bouillon cubes, water, milk, or soy milk.

Take the canned pumpkin and whip it with some drained kidney or black beans and some canned tomatoes. Again, add onions, garlic, salt, and pepper, then thin down (tastes awe-some, even if you don’t love pumpkin. I have served this to many guests, with fresh veggies tossed in).

Beets + tomatoes. Peas + beans. Green beans + pumpkin. Asparagus all by itself. You’re really only limited by whatever you have gathering dust in your cabinets.

On a similar note, I use the same process with random cans of fruit (especially fruit cocktail). I blend the crap out of it, then use it instead of applesauce or pears in quick breads (I use the pear bread recipe from the Joy of Cooking). That makes a really nice, light fruity bread that’s kind of dreamy for breakfast.

Enjoy.

Happy holidays, everyone. I hope this day finds you surrounded by people you love with easily-cured heartburn caused by delicious food.

I didn’t do a holiday letter this year. I meant to. Consider this my holiday letter to all of you.

This year was a year filled with financial hardship and great kindnesses. I learned some good lessons about how to be an adult, how to ask for help, and how to accept help I’ve asked for. I’ve made some strangers into friends, and I hope they know how much I have begun to treasure them.

(I hope I taught some lessons too: how to endure, how to take risks, and how to start again, again. I’m pretty good at all that.)

There were also some triumphs—a few good publications, awards, and wins; the start of a new novel; the birth of Brain Harvest; Chris’ first school transcript showing all As.

I am often terrible at keeping in touch; even worse at regularly blogging interesting things. But I thank you for bearing with me and continuing to take this ride.

Here’s to 2010 kicking metric fucktons of ass.

Following up on my first set of personal tips and advice on saving money in a brutally dismal economy–which, for the artsy types that avoid 9-5, may last longer than the rest of y’all–is my spiel on saving money on food/grocery bills (which was the most requested topic via email). Remember, this is all from personal experience and some of this, I realize, may seem a bit extreme or–even, yes–wacko. YMMV.

• The very best tip I can give you is to learn to cook. Not only that, learn to like to cook.  But, if your repertoire pretty much involves toast and boiling water for pasta, start by learning to cook, at least. Take out some basic cookbooks from the library or keep an eye out for free cooking classes at local Whole Foods (and places like that). Experiment–but not too much at first. Wait until you’ve made a few dishes following recipes exactly, with success, and you understand the basic chemistry of how foods cook and what tastes good with what.
• Play the grocery game. I’ve never played the Grocery Game, but I do know quite a few people who have. This works well, from what I am told, if you have a family to shop for. Essentially, the GG, for a few bucks a week, consolidates every special, coupon, and rebate for products you buy at major chain grocery stores. I’ve heard of people who use the GG to wind up with a $200 cart of groceries for less than $20 out the door.
• Do what everyone else tell you: clip coupons, shop the perimeter of the store (avoiding frozen and packaged foods), plan meals in advance, don’t shop hungry, etc. You can find articles on this everywhere. It’s all usually good advice.
• Build up your basics pantry. Your basics pantry are the ingredients (aside from spices) you use often and can combine to make other things. In our house, our basics pantry includes eggs, flour, butter, milk, canned black beans, canned tomatoes, sugar, and unsweetened baking chocolate. If we have these ingredients, I can usually use them–along with whatever else we happen to have–to make some sort of meal. Your basics pantry will probably contain different things based on your taste. But once you’ve figured out what those are, always try and keep them on hand.
• The most extreme, but personally interesting  tip is to go freegatarian. That’s right. Freegatarian. Also known as freeganism, freegatarians try and, well, salvage all the good stuff that would be, otherwise, thrown away. Tons of food are simply tossed because they’ve passed their aesthetic prime–rather than because they’ve become inconsumable. Finding food that would otherwise go to waste is remarkably easy. Sometimes you can ask the folks that work at restaurants and grocery stores, although that usually only flies at Trader Joes and organic markets (they are the most receptive). There’s also lots of info on the internet from other freegatarians who are very generous with sharing their intelligence about where to find things (including where and when to visit the alley behind Theo Chocolates or Top Pot Donuts, yum).  The most challenging and fun thing about freeganism is that you have to be open to happy surprises, coming home with 3 pounds of slightly bruised gala apples one day (pie!) or packages of just wilting fresh herbs the next (which can be air dried for later use*. If you have a good basics pantry, you can usually figure out something to make with your prize (Allrecipes.com has a lovely search feature where you can search by ingredient for recipe ideas).
• Get a garden or a P-Patch and grow your own food. Last summer was my first year doing this and I am so excited to do this again. I didn’t plant some things early enough and I lost all my pumpkins to blight, but we had fresh herbs, garlic, peppers and chard all summer (and well into fall). This next season, I’m going to add more tomatoes and do strawberries (which do well in the PNW summers). Getting started can take a small investment, but I used mostly found containers (lots of coffee cans) and have been keeping a compost bin (we go through coffee like madpeople and coffee grounds make for excellent compost), so my only expense will be some fresh soil and seeds–and really, if I had my crap together, I’d get in on all the seed swaps that happen both locally and on the internet to get a good seed store together for even less money.
• And finally, scavenge your neighborhood. You’d be shocked at the food that grows wild and local all over the place. Within one block in my neighborhood, there’s a field filled with dandelion greens and at least 3 lots where blackberries take over**. I keep my husband in blackberry pie all season that way, and nothing beats fresh berries that are twice the size of what you find at the market. Also, look for neighbors who have more bounty than they can handle (and ask before taking). Our neighbor has a fig tree that always bears more than she could ever hope to eat…so, voila. Fresh mission figs for us.

 
*For those of you in the back row freaking out about “dirty” food, freegatarians wash their finds. Wash them well–just like you should be doing even if you buy your food at Safeway. Think for a second how many people fondle each piece of produce in the grocery store before you get it home.
**Again, a good wash/rinse and they are just fine. Delicious.