OK so I gotta blow off some steam.

I'm into an organic lifestyle, green and all that.  Very popular here in Oregon.

My dad was ON BOARD with us going organic (the vineyard).  He bought up all the metal poles left in Oregon at the time (organic can't use wood because the wood is treated).  My husband and I were going to do all the legwork (mostly my husband), rototilling, weed whacking and pulling the weeds around the base of all 3160 pinot noir plants by hand.

Let me take you back to April 2015.

I'd like to submit an entry for worst dinner party ever.  I walked into the kitchen, back in Oregon after 5 miserable weeks in Europe (later).  I felt my aunt staring at me with so much negative energy I couldn't even look at her, I just focused on talking to my mom.  The aunt promptly told me my dog was fat.  It was true.  He was.  My dad had fed him double his daily food portion, with no walks, plus giving him popcorn.  I said in a comedic tone..."I'd like to refer your complaint to the person who's been taking care of him for the past month...double the food, none of the walks."  Everyone laughed.  She kept up her scowl/glare/smile (to hide the first two...ah women).

Later at dinner my uncle asked my husband what he thought of illegal aliens.  My aunt immediately went on a tirade about Mexicans, border control and how we should deport them all.  My husband's and my eyes widened as we pressed our legs together under the table.  Then my uncle made some comment about having curry once (my husband is half Pakistani).   It was so horrendous and so funny in hindsight I wish we'd secretly filmed it and put in on YouTube.  Someone should start a site like YouPorn, but for relatives behaving badly.

After dinner we moved outside to the fire pit.  Somehow they got onto the subject of spraying the vineyard with herbicides for weed control.  I looked at my dad.  "Ok...so organic is out?"  My uncle said in a loud, angry, drunk voice "90% of people don't care about organic."  "Where did you get that number from?"  "I made it up."  "Uh huh."  My aunt chimed in, "Yeah, well I won't do it."  As if it's HER FUCKING VINEYARD!!!  I started to loudly, angrily and drunkenly reply, but my wonderful husband stood up to go (the English are way too proper for this kind of American bullshit).  As I made a mental note to fuck his brains out later that night, I gratefully stood up with him, glared at my aunt and uncle, and in the most sarcastic, bitchy tone I could muster said, "Thank you all for a LOVELY evening."  I wish I'd said to my aunt, "You sure know how to make a last impression" (she's dying...oh please...she's been "dying" since I moved here 2 years ago...with no diagnosis...can't eat but is huge ???).

My husband and I grabbed Yoda, jumped in the car and left for the park, where he fucked my brains out on a picnic table under the stars, which is the only way to be arrested for nudity in Oregon, which explains a lot of my outdoor photo shoots where I seem to have an aversion to clothes.

I haven't spoken to my aunt and uncle since.  Until they apologize I'm going to make things REALLY uncomfortable for them every time they think about coming over.  When my aunt finally does cross my path I will speak my truth (let her have it).

Fade out fade in...last month my folks were coming down to show my husband how to rototill, because organic was back on the table (I always was the family lobbyist).  I was camming the night they arrived so they stayed with the aunt and uncle.  Yes they know what I do for a living.  I've been a professional entertainer since 15.  This is just my current "theater".  They don't need to hear about the sets, the costumes, the choreography or the props.  Though I think they'd like my music choices.  And my cooking show.  But they are sexual Kryptonite.  Big time boner killer.  I couldn't work knowing they were nearby.  Ew.

So after spending the night with those 2 assholes, suddenly we're back to spraying chemicals.  When my mom and dad broke the news I could only say, "Okay" (in more of an icy cold tone, not as bitchy) because it's their vineyard.

They left and my husband started spraying.  My mother had instructed him to saturate the ground, my dad said just barely, but the Queen is the most powerful piece on this chess board, so he drowned those fuckers.  He didn't wear gloves at first and the chemicals got into his hands.  We had to keep Yoda inside for his safety, as the chemicals could make him very sick OR KILL HIM.  I started to feel that yuckiness/edginess that comes with using toxic cosmetics or cleaning products.

We had to go to the farm store to get more.  You don't realize what "conventional" means until you walk down the aisle of chemical herbicides, pesticides and fertilizers.  These huge multi-gallon vats are filled with such poisonous stuff they have skulls and crossbones on them.  I'd love to shake some over ice and serve it in martini glasses to my aunt and uncle (garnished with a toxic grape).  I wouldn't pour a shot into their food, because cooking is sacred to me.  But I have no problem using cocktails as warfare.  Then I hear Dr. Phil's voice in my head saying 'Take the high road.  There's a lot less traffic out there.'  And then I remember Buddhism saying something about Do No Harm.  Grrrr.

The only ray of sunshine here is our vegetable garden is ours to experiment with.  And we are going organic all the way.  Found a nice spot on the property my folks would let us tear up with a rototiller.  When we started searching for YouTube videos on organic gardening, this was the first one to pop up:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OiGof48XVCQ

At first I was so turned off I turned it off.  I'm not a fan of Evangelicals.  My dad is one.  But as I started another video I kept thinking if I could get past the Bible quoting, that looked like a real cool video, and that guy seemed like a really cool guy.  A high vibrational being for sure.  I just loved his energy.  And HOLY CORGI not only did he change my life forever, he made me realize we believe a lot of the same things, we just speak different languages.  I love what Marianne Williamson says..."God doesn't care if you get the words right."

Paul's (we're on a first name basis) techniques and practices make so much sense and save us SO MUCH WORK.  Instead of brutally tearing up the ground with a rototiller, I gently place down 4 sheets of newspaper onto beautiful grass as my husband shovels and dumps a pile of mulch onto it.  It's much more spiritual than it sounds.  I want to convert the vineyard.

One of the best lessons I ever learned from my dad was, "It's better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission."

So we're just going to fucking do it.  Mulch and wood chips, one plant, one row at a time.  We'll still follow my parents' instructions regarding spraying chemicals, but maybe in a year or two they'll see they don't need to.

Like my great great grandparents, great grandparents and grandparents (who lived here), this land was here long before them and it'll be here long after I'm fertilizing a marijuana plant...OH!  I'm growing my own this season!  My first plant Fergus just sprouted!...where was I?  Oh yes...I'm a steward of the land.  No one owns land.  You take care of it for the short time you're here on this earth.  And this land needs some healing.

I drink a lot.  (Really?)  When I have wine I drink the whole bottle.  If I drink an organic or old world wine, I get no hangover, no headache, no Advil is needed.  A little black coffee and weed the next morning and I'm good to go.  If I drink a conventional bottle, the insomnia is for hours, the headache is excruciating and all the Advil, coffee, and weed in the world won't help me.  Walking through the chemical herbicide/pesticide/fertilizer aisle in the farm store I GET IT NOW.  If you drink a shot of that stuff you'd be in the emergency room.  If Yoda goes outside it could kill him.  DO YOU REALLY THINK IT ISN'T GOING TO END UP IN THE GRAPES?
  
And though my folks only want to sell their grapes, I have this strange vision.  I've never taken a chemistry class in my life.  But my husband who doesn't drink has, and is good at it.  How funny would it be if he turns out to be this AMAZING wine maker but never actually tastes his product?  (I call taster!)...like Walter White.  Guess that'd make me Pinkman...or was it Badger?  Mmmm...he would be the best stoner sex ever.  I should come up with a Breaking Bad themed wine line...Walter White Wine (sauvignon blanc), Skylar White Wine (riesling), Pinkman Rose (pinot noir), Gus Framboise, Hank Chardonnay...Mike ???...I got nothing...

But if we don't end up making wine I hope we can at least sell the grapes to Badger Mountain (remember my favorite pinot noir?).  Guess I have a thing for badgers.

But REALLY I want to sell them to this week's feature, King Estate Winery in Eugene, OR.

King Radio was a manufacturer of aviation avionics (the electrical systems used in planes).  They're still found in planes today.  I thought this was a sign.  My dad is a test pilot.  He knew of King Radio quite well.  Has their equipment in his personal planes.

They make all their wine at the impressive estate.  In addition to using estate grown grapes, they have 35 contracts with growers in Oregon and Washington.  The estate is 100% organic.  We're talking solar panels and a raptor program...TO EAT THE BIRDS WHO ATTEMPT TO EAT THE GRAPES.  Another one of those hardcore things that blow my stoner mind.  BUT...their wine is not organic because they add sulphites.  ???  I know.  I'm confused too.  Taking a toke.

They do free tours at 1pm, 2pm, 3pm and 4pm.  My hubby and I just got back from one.  It was just us so we had the tour guide all to ourselves.  It was like having our own personal organic viticulture coach.  We learned that Paul's technique of mulching and wood chips is the way to go (I want a compost pile!).  Also his pruning.  And we can use sheep!  For fertilizing whilst mowing the cover crop.  They won't destroy the grapes like goats.  Adding a flock of sheep to my pet wish list.  Hey...I knit.

The tasting was $10 for 5 wines (waived with a $60 purchase).  They have wines at every price point, with three lines: Acrobat, NxNW and King Estate.  The King Estate pinot noirs consistently make the top lists in Wine Spectator, Forbes, Cigar UpYourBeaver...this one pinot noir, called Old School, is grown by a farmer who uses Clydesdales and a plow!  I wonder if they watch the Super Bowl with him for the Budweiser commercials.

We learned more stuff, like cover crops (oats, radishes, peas), what we can spray with (elemental sulfur).  They have a fancy pants restaurant.  Next time my folks make it down to Oregon (they live in Seattle) I'm going to be dragging them there.  I'm still the family lobbyist, and I will not accept defeat.  The trees need me.  However, our tour guide did tell us if we choose to make our own wine, we'd get about 600 cases from our 3 acres.

I'm going to start calling my husband Walt.

Thank you for letting me rant.

Story Problem:

If Pam drinks 4 days per week and is dry 3 days per week, how is her drinking window 72 hours and her dry window 96 hours?

Answer:

'Cuz she starts drinking Friday evening but is done by the same time Monday evening leaving her dry from Monday evening through Friday evening.

I know.  It blows my stoner mind.  Like the time my yoga teacher said, "Yoga is the journey of the self, through the self, to the self."  Still smoking that one.

So my last post led to some great chats in my room this past weekend.

Isn't fish meat?  Yes.  I consider all animal protein meat.  Eggs too, which are not dairy.  The grade school pyramid was wrong.  Dairy comes from the milk of an animal.  Some would call me a vegetarian, but I disagree.  Pescetarian.

I don't think vegan or vegetarian or pescetarian or paleo is morally or nutritionally better than the other.  Different animals and sexes have different nutritional needs.  I can't exactly go up to Yoda and say, "Here.  Have some grains and vegetables.  Mommy's a vegan now," without getting a peg legged slap across the face.  My husband is a male human (because a sheep turned me down).  He does much better on paleo, having beef, lamb, poultry, fish and eggs, with fruits, vegetables, seeds and nuts.

Here's how I see it.  In an end times scenario, let's pretend the dollar has tanked, the grocery stores have been looted, it's every Pam for herself.  I wouldn't be able to take down an elk or deer or bunny rabbit (they're delicious), kill, gut and clean it (but I can suck the cock of someone who can...pretty sure that's how blow jobs came about).  There are some women who are that in touch with their inner amazon, but they're probably deployed somewhere in the Middle East.  Actually many of them live here in Oregon.  The hottest 19 year old barista EVER saw a deer on the side of the road that had been hit by a car but was still alive and suffering, so she pulled over, took out her machete (we all have at least 2) and slit its throat.  That's some hardcore shit.  I could dig you some clams, but that's about it, though in a survival situation I could probably start a fire without matches or a lighter.  Most stoners can, as well as turn any piece of fruit into a pipe.

I really am going to take up fly fishing for food.  Ned Stark said it best...the Pam who passes the sentence should swing the sword.  If I can't catch, kill, gut, clean and cook it myself, then I shouldn't eat it.

But I am going to add a small amount of dairy back into my diet...specifically FETA.  Not from cow milk, but from goat (I've read that goat milk is easier for humans to digest than cow, and I believe it. Thank you cystic acne).  The time I missed drinking the most during Dryuary was when I was preparing dinner, having bread (I bake my own now!), kalamata olives, wine and feta.  But if I'm going to do that, I need to know where it's coming from, the farming practices, how the goats are treated, everything.  Thankfully, my favorite goat dairy is just a stoner road trip away, not too far from Napa Valley.  I'll be visiting them during their next open house, and swing by a few organic wineries for tastings.  I LOVE the hippie dippy west coast!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iYpfK-GXJ9c

My mom won't let me have a pet goat.  Says it'll eat the vineyard.  Which really sucks because I would love to make my own feta and Greek yogurt.  I would name her Tzatziki...get her a husband named Melvin.  I used to have pet goats...Lesbian Nubians...Sally and Gertrude...we got 'em to clear acres of blackberries.  Those cute little tractors can swallow anything [insert goat porn joke here], which means my mom is right (grrrrr).  No pet goats.  But they're SO CUTE!!!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PLTwTsh9FfI

I'm looking forward to my Mediterranean picnic...homemade bread, fruit, olives, feta and so much wine that Alex Trebeck starts to look hot...

This week's feature will go nicely.  I discovered it last weekend.  It's getting a callback.

Chateau Routas Rosé, a dry rosé from the Provence region of France, made from the varietals cinsault, grenache and syrah.  I have so much fun looking at where a winery is on Google Maps.  I'm manifesting a French wine tasting vacation for "research purposes".  This winery would definitely be on my visit list.  That makes 2 so far...Gerard Betrand in Languedoc and now Chateau Routas in Provence.

http://www.chateauroutas.com/files/7314/5035/0807/RouviereRose2015.pdf

I wish I had descriptors for you, but I was enjoying it so much I forgot to write them down, and my short term memory is shot to shit (will have them for you next week).  It was definitely a standout.  I've had 2 other rosés in the past 2 weeks, but they did not make my list.  Both tasted like church wine, which reminded me of Sunday Mass.  I suddenly had the urge to be kneeling, which happens even with good rosé, but for other reasons...the kind that'll get you a side of elk...

Au Revoir!

Back in the saddle again.  I had a glass of rosé at a wine bar on Friday with my husband after yoga, a bottle of rosé Friday night during my show and another during Saturday's.  THEY WERE AMAZING.  Like the first time you have sex after a 2 year dry spell.  Had a 22oz. beer (Ninkasi Total Domination IPA) on Sunday during the Super Bowl, followed by a bottle of tempranillo during my evening show (not my best idea...won't  be doing that again...got to pick one or the other).  And on Monday I had a 22 oz. beer (Ninkasi Tricerahops Double IPA) for my day off.  Didn't drink Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday.  I love my dry days.  And I love my drinking days.  Thank you Dryuary!  Suck it AA.

This week I'd like to give a shout out to Ninkasi Brewing Company.  If you ever find yourself in Duckburg (Eugene), Oregon and you love beer, YOU MUST try their FREE tour with a complimentary  5+ beer tasting (Thursdays @ 1pm).  Book online.  Wear close toed shoes.  We spent the first five minutes of the tour waiting for some wedge sandeled idiot to strut back to her car and change her shoes.  While everyone else sat basking in the sunlight at a picnic table hearing the backstory of the brewery founders, I clung to a wall like a gecko for the only 6 inches of shade anywhere, trying not to let my skin sizzle like one of the Dark Seekers in I Am Legend.  But other than that, it was a glorious experience.

Their facility is quite large.  Biggest game in town.  The tour guide was so friendly and informative (Ninkasi is the Sumerian goddess of beer).  He turned me on to this Discovery Channel documentary, "How Beer Saved the World."  If you have 43 minutes (no commercials!) and love beer, I think you'll enjoy this.

https://vimeo.com/23278902

Ninkasi's flagship is Total Domination IPA  6.7% ABV 65 IBU  $10 per 6 pack

I remember the first time I tasted it this past summer.  I was taking my English husband to his first county fair...

I hadn't been to one in a long while, but grew up going to them.  As a kid my favorite part was looking at all the livestock, seeing who had won the blue ribbons.  I loved petting the sheep after they'd been shorn, the cows, the pigs, the rabbits, the chickens.  I loved eating corn dogs and whipping fudge, going on the rides Octopus and Zipper.  My dance studio had us performing every night.  It was awesome.  Then.

Since then I've been exploring Buddhism.  Suddenly I'm very aware of and sensitive to suffering.  I feel the life force of EVERYTHING (I have a spider relocation program).  This time at the fair, in all the livestock pens and cages, I saw how much all the animals were suffering.  Except for the goats.  They were happy.  Probably because we don't eat them in our culture, we just keep them around for lawn mowing and cheese.  But everything else was miserable.  Being in those cages for DAYS.  Auctioned off for food.  The blue ribbon thing suddenly looked like the most sick and twisted beauty pageant ever.

As I was petting a baby dairy cow who looked exactly like Norman from City Slickers, a few big bulls came out of the judging ring.  The blue ribboned bull was beautiful.  Huge.  Muscular.  Intimidating.  After he was chained up in his stall, he sat down and looked away from everyone.  The crowd dispersed and I walked up next to him.  He turned his head to me as much as he could (he had a large, painful looking ring through his nose chained to his stall).  I looked into his eye and could not believe the suffering I saw.  He was going to spend the rest of his days in a field fucking and making little baby cows, going off to live the American human male dream, but it wasn't worth this agony.  He looked back at me and actually stood up.  I wanted to cry.

"Look what they've done to you!  This is barbaric.  I am SO sorry."  My chest started to hurt.  "I promise, from this day forth, I will never harm another animal again."  He said nothing back to me, but it was a conversation I will never forget.  His pain was excruciating.

OK so the point of this whole story was after my life changing moment with Mr. Bull, we went outside.  My husband was a little taken aback by what he had just seen.  I was overwhelmed and desperately needed a chair in the shade and a beer in my hand.  My baby faced 28 year old husband forgot his ID so I braved the sun and headed for the beer tent.  I asked the nice tattooed dread locked white lady straight out of Portlandia if she had any IPAs.  "This one."  She pointed to Ninkasi.  "It's local.  It's their flagship."

Local?  IPA?  FLAGSHIP? (I love that word) I'll take it!!  She poured me a recycled plastic cup full.  I took several large gulps.  It was SO REFRESHING.  Absolutely delicious.  Strong floral aroma and bold fruity taste...specifically nectarine.  The much welcome buzz helped dull my very raw senses.  I sat down next to my hubby.  "I never really believed in your witchy powers until just now.  You actually communicated with that bull."  "I never realized how cruel our farming practices are.  I promised him I would stop eating beef and that I would never harm another animal again."

I couldn't keep my promise right away...or completely.  After I finished my beer I promptly went to the corn dog stand and devoured one (never again).  Over the next month I had 2 beef burgers, 1 pork burrito bowl at Chipotle, some Costco rotisserie chickens, but then completely switched to a Mediterranean Pescaterian (Vegetarian with Fish) diet.  I wish I could live on a vegan diet (tried 3 times), but that's not a good idea for bipolar bears.  We need animal protein for our brains that can sometimes be like Audrey 2 in Little Shop of Horrors.  The only creatures I eat now are wild caught seafood (I'm actually going to learn how to fly fish!).  No farm raised anything.  I fully accept that I will be reincarnated as an Alaskan salmon.  I was a bear in a former life, so I deserve it.  It must really suck to be a salmon.

So that's the story of how I discovered Ninkasi Total Domination IPA...and why I stopped eating creatures with feet forever.  Flippers only.

Stay away from the whipping fudge.