Well, there was the bit that you missed where I distracted him with the cuddly monkey then I said “play time’s over” and I hit him in the head with the peace lily.

Friday linkage (my apologies I missed last week)! Short, but sweet:

Got Milk? Got Misogyny at Soc Images. The PMS thing is such crap. I’ve been pretty good at ignoring it much of my life. I find it terrifically interesting our culture holds that normal biological or physical processes of women are inherently flawed, scary, silly, unmentionable, gross – or all the above. I’m pretty much done with that, how ’bout you?

Oh and speaking on that – Tami Harris has some choice words on a few recent commercials which are almost unbelievable even as experienced by my tired-out leathery-psyche of anti-kyriarchal cynicism. Just: wow.

An Apology To Parents at PickleMeThis – now admittedly these sentiments seem like only the beginning of a greater understanding of adultism and attendant misogyny, but heck, it’s a good beginning. This entry seems a lot better off than I was for many years. I wish this person well and hope others find the words helpful.

This is over a year old; but I hadn’t shared it yet. You can read the text here. It’s well worth it.

New WA DUI law in effect. Anyone have any opinions? (Um, “Don’t Drink & Drive” not worth the effort to type it, so don’t, or your ass is modded).

I was also thinking – tangentially so – of my favorite film scenes involving drinking. I came up with a few. On the humor scale: Cary Grant in the beginning(ish) of North by Northwest comes to mind, as does Will Ferrell’s turn in Old School (the latter film I don’t exactly reccommend, although Juliette Lewis’ “I’m sooorrrrry” while blowing cigarette smoke is also choice!). On the awesome-in-a-drama/realistic way I’d cite the entire performance of Ray Milland in The Lost Weekend (as I believe I’ve mentioned before), Paul Giamatti’s work in Sideways, and the family dinner scene in Half Nelson which makes me grit my teeth, it’s so perfect.

Teh Awesome: from one of my favorite thrillers. I would love to sponsor this one at the 7th Street!

Make: How-To: A Custom Pair of Tap Pants at CRAFT. I only own one dress but I’d like to own more. Why not have some funderwear for underneath? Instead of my usual cotton.

Make: Buttermilk Potato Salad by Martha Stewart. I made this for this week’s Conch and it was delicious!

Finally: “Red Light Bulb” by Madeline:

Phoenie & A Newt

amphibious as it turns out

Today I was up running about, doing dishes, and cooking for a few concerns: first, the salad to bring out to the campground for an early dinner, secondly, a meal to take to the Mission (today we did not make up our weekly Conch meal* – but we continue to feed the hungry with food donations). For the latter I’d made up about ten servings of a salad: brown rice, black beans, corn, small-dice celery and garlic, vinaigrette dressing. I picked up a bag of hot fresh chips from Los Arcos ($2) to compliment. And – for myself – I got an Earl Grey tea latte from Tully’s for the drive, lactose intolerance be damned! (Tomorrow I’ll be weeping though.)

Out at the lake Nels and I found my mother and my daughter playing with another grandparent/children family scene. After sitting and talking with my mom I could tell something she could not: my two kids could play for FIVE HOURS (no joke) nonstop, in the water, and weren’t going to want to come away as early as we were. My mom still has that grandma or occasional-in-charge-grownup or whatever sense, thinking a playdate should be like an hour at most. You know, I’m realizing kids actually don’t nearly have the short attention span adults do.

We stayed a fair while at the lake edge, and I was due in town at seven, so there wasn’t time to camp cook – nor did my mom have the energy for her part (she and Phoenie had not slept well the night before). We travelled the few minutes into Montesano to an open and family-friendly diner (fortunately, the dish I’d brought for campside dinner – a salad with precisely-slided broccoli florets, dried cranberries, crumbled bacon, peas, sunflower seeds, and a sugar/red wine vinegar mayo dressing – was safe enough in my car, tidied in a cooler and iced). We four had a lovely meal but soon my little girl was curled up on my lap sleeping. My mom worried the girl had over-tired but Phoenix wanted to go out for her second night camping. I carried her to the car (stopping briefly to say Hello to a boy, ha, I went to school with) and loved her up then we parted ways.

Today: Phoenie and a newt. She, of course, is expert in catching them. This newt was so goddamned cute. (Yes, I’m a poet and boy don’t I know it!) It had it’s little mouth open at one point and I almost died from the sweetness:

Phoenie & A Newt

Home and picking up Ralph, who was deathly tired. Now into bed with my two fellas – time for some grateful prayers and lovely cuddles.


* What’s up with the Conch thing? Nothing, we still want to finish our tour. We’ve had a few breaks – not my original intention. Ultimately enough people held on to baskets and dishes (part of our mission was to be as environmentally conscious as possible) that it took the wind out of my sack a bit. I should probably get my shit together but I’m a bit tired from other commitments lately!

BRK-BRK-sneaky-BRK, plus an announcement



(Yes, those are our birds: the stealth-hen is Peeperton, I think)

So tonight we have a trip up to Seattle, there and back, and I’m just making fart noises with my mouth, but it’s the right thing to do, support my mom on a trip, and get some time with her and Ralph too.

In other news: tomorrow we are doing Conch as originally scheduled (here’s the menu for tomorrow: [click for pdf]). The policies are the same as the last time we served. Please read carefully and follow the contact information, to wit: text the number 360 500 3287, leave a comment here, or email kelly AT hogaboom DOT org. I will get back to you to let you know if you have a reservation!

the mouse and the bat

Goodness gracious, I’ve had a busy last few days. Some of which I’ve written on, as I’m sure readers will notice, more or less privately. And that’s just that. I cannot share the password at this time: this is for the sake of others, and I promise I do not withhold for creepy reasons. I will have to throw this disclaimer up top of my blog somewhere. I’ll get to it soon – promise.

In the meantime, here are some pictures:

Weird/terrible/oddly fun show in Elma.

Giving blood. No longer terrified, once the prick-test is done, the needle is in the arm, etc.
Giving Blood

Josie quite helpfully gets so much cat hair on my latest sewn creation. Thanks, Ass.

Nels is beautiful.

The YMCA lifeguard the other day was so incredibly insensitive, annoying, and – what’s that word when someone seems to get off on enforcing pissant and arbitrary rules? I don’t know. But the kids had fun, and I took a picture of their nudie awesomeness when we were getting ready to go. They really were lovely.
YMCA Nudies

Last night I was able to get away from the family for a bit while Ralph cooked, so I could watch Billy Wilder’s The Lost Weekend (1945). I cannot get across how much I love this film, most specifically the performance by Ray Milland, an actor who thrills me in every fiber of my being. The film has so many others on the same subject, dead-beat. Everything about it is perfect; it has been called a noir-style (which I frankly do not get) – but the atmosphere, performances, writing, the wardrobes, the theramin-enhanced score, “delirium is a disease of the night”! Ye Gods I wish they still made films like this, most frequently so. Watching these old classics, I think I’m going to have to indulge in my James Mason crush here pretty soon.

And speaking of Milland, I mean – the shortest Oscar acceptance speech on record. He’s just fan-fucking-tastic.

And finally, an announcement: week eleven of the Conch Shell went well; this week the Conch Shell is on hiatus.

a daughter is a gift of love

My daughter is “only” nine, but she’s becoming a young lady before my eyes. It’s a subtle change, but not imperceptible: those closest to her – namely Ralph, Nels, and my mother – are also noticing. I am, in this time, her confidant, and this pleases me to no end. Yesterday after lunch out with my mom (Happy Teriyaki droooooool) we briefly stopped for a $6 bang-trim at a walk-in salon. Ralph told me later how calm and comfortable our daughter was in what she immediately inferred was a female-oriented space. The stylist asked Phoenix questions about her age and her interests and soon the young woman’s eyes flickered back and forth between my daughter and I. “You’re so cute… you’re just so sweet.” this woman told my daughter. “Thank you,” Phoenix replied levelly – and she thanked her for the hair service as I paid. The other stylists watched too: all eyes on my daughter during the relatively quiet transaction, an occurrence I have come to recognize as it is relatively frequent. Children often get ignored or talked over in public; yet Phoenix has a lot of presence.

Tonight at Ross (I found the most perfect. jeans. ever. for $16) Phoenix found the junior-size dresses and became interested. After asking her father if we had time for her to try them on, she pulled several off the racks. In the dressing room she invited me in and I helped her, holding her slightly tangled locks off the nape of her most-precious neck and tugging on straps and belts, after which she assessed herself. Still a little girl, some cuts of the junior’s size zero fit well enough and she commented on the color and cut and fabric of each. Finally, “I like the striped one and the bright blue one. If you say the striped one is best, that’s good enough for me!” She pulled on her little Dickie’s t-shirt and folded her hoodie across her arm and we checked back out, the $10 soft summer jersey dress in hand, to where her father sat waiting in the aisle.

Earlier today: in the kitchen she pulls her hair back and washes her hands thoroughly and sits up at the kitchen counter, cutting a couple quarts of peaches, carefully holding them in her hand and slicing directly into her own palm, for this week’s restaurant fare. Now while the home-restaurant was of my son’s inception and each week is driven by his insistance, he only helps with a bit of the cooking (today, however, he greeted and talked with customers quite well). Phoenix on the other hand is a genuine and consistent help, a bit to my surprise. She’s learning quite a bit about cooking too, although I maintain my children will know a great deal about food variety, preparation, and competence, just by growing up in our home – no direct instruction particularly required.

Speaking of that, the cake I made to wrap up and take to the hungry at the Mission, we instead sacrificed as a neighbor gift to the new move-ins across the street. For one, I like to do this sort of thing; secondly, the seven year old of the family heckled me mercilessly for a slice last night and I finally figured to give the family the whole dern thing. It was a beautiful and – dare I say it – professional-looking confectionary of chocolately awesomeness. And now I’m left to consider what to cook for the Mission this week. I’m thinking sweet and fragrant cornbread; an anonymous donor gave me a whole lotta canned corn and that’s the best thing I can think to use it in (relatively cheap, too, in cooking and donating to others). I’ll probably be pulling that out of the oven tomorrow when the kids get up; we’ll share breakfast as it cools and wrap it all up and take a bus over to deliver.

For now, for tonight – our resultant peach cobbler:

Southern Peach Cobbler

come on, skinny love

Cucumber Mint Raita

Conch Shell, week 5 – another fun night! Here’s what we’re serving next week, on April 20th ( [pdf menu] )

Nels and I had a special date today. He wanted to be taken to KFC for a “Japanese lunch”, so called because they serve it in a box and his only previous exposure to such had been bentos. He and I stood in line for a too-long wait while other customers looked pissed; we danced (in place), spinning carefully on our heels, and Nels smiled and laughed bright as a trickling waterfall and hugged me. Once we received our food and sat down in the inhospitably sterile booth, it turned out my son was more enamored of the ritual and the novelty than the actual food; while he enjoyed portions of the green beans and biscuit, he ended up entirely too squeamish for the drumstick (and had several resultant questions and observations for me on the way home).

We had several extra kids over today, and Ralph and my work to record the next week’s broadcast early went awry. I’m a bit exhausted. I’d called the doctor earlier because, hey you all who are on medications for depression and anxiety? I am so goddamned impressed with you. I was on the lowest dosage of two medicines for two mere days and I couldn’t handle it. After a couple phone consultations we ditched one medication entirely and cut the other one to 1/4 of the tiny pill I’d been taking. So, there’s that.

The kids are working on writing and recording songs. Here’s what their friend Little P. wrote out for me to find, later, on the desk.

minecraft motiper is the bigest thing in the wole in tir wrod
and neles is the best player is the wrod
he is the best their is in the wrod
he is like a eye of a tiger a threll the nigte
and so is penexes she is like a eye of a tiger
threll the ngte


Minecraft multiplayer is the biggest thing in the whole world
And Nels is the best player in the world
He is the best there is in the world
He is like a eye of a tiger a thrill [of] the night
And so is Phoenix, she is like an eye of a tiger
Thrill [of] the night

Again: so, there’s that.

We decided that we would have a soda / My favorite flavor, cherry red

Today a doctor prescribed me two anti-depressant medications, on low dosages, to begin immediately. I filled the prescriptions (well, the Lexapro was provided as a gratis stack of samples, but – anyway) and I plan to give it a go. The physician had initially described another medication by way of referencing the television ad associated with it and, when I didn’t recognize the ad, describing it in detail – to his own highly-evident amusement. P.S. my husband calls this particular physician “the Pill Catapult”, because he’s happy to prescribe drugs, and really that is what many doctors mostly do, and I knew that going in.

This is only my second (formal and legal) pharmaceutical venture into managing anxiety, depression, and onset insomnia (these days I’m concerned more regarding the former than the latter two). About a year and a half ago I briefly tried Ambien as a sleep aid (suck-tastic side effects, so I stopped). And of course, in the last year I’ve been busy messing about with lots of other avenues: the allergy elimination food plan, alcohol, pot, a host and I do mean host of supplements, various teas, and a rigorous exercise program (and of course, a combination of several of these). Interestingly, the exercise and the alcohol have been the most effective, although hardly problem-solving and in the case of booze, with self-limiting side effects. As it stands today, besides these new pills and a home-blended tea at night and considerable doses Acceptance and good humor, I am also planning on securing a consultation / session for EMDR as soon as possible. Oh, and a new haircut, when I can find someone I can trust to give me the right hint of faux hawk. (¿ideas, gente locale?)

So, by the way, how Acceptance works for me, I’m keeping wide and calm eyes on the path I’m choosing. I’m okay that maybe I’ll look back and wish I’d tried this sooner, I’m okay that maybe I’ll look back and shudder and say, “mistake”. Today I accept this is temporary – because everything is. Today I also accept the gladness I feel for my friends and family and supporters but also, wonderful and strange, a gladness and a sense of surprise and gentleness with regards to my own self. I keep sitting here trying to type what it’s like but it’s eluding me, for now. Some time soon.

Oh and I want to point out, sitting an hour waiting for my doctor, it was pretty fun to have a phone to fuck with.

Sharps. & Gloves.




After my doctor visit, Phoenix hopped out of the truck and set off to a friends’ for a playdate. I took a slightly diffident Nels to Javier’s International Barber Shop, which ended up being one of those super-fun micro-adventures you wish you could have every day, but they allude us in the pursuit such that we only find them just when it’s right. Javier was a pretty excellent barber – especially in relating to my seven-year old companion – and I saw, for the first time, Nels having fun while getting a haircut. He (Javier) also complimented my Spanish and said I spoke it better than his wife, which gave me a laugh.

Nels + Javier + Pingüinos

Home and Nels joined his sister at their friends’. I got an incredibly rare opportunity to do some cooking by myself, music up loud (Peaches), making cucumber-mint raita and banana pound cake with caramel glaze for tomorrow’s menu, and if I had a slightly less meager (in size) kitchen, well that would have been the only thing to make the whole business better.

Episode One: We’re on the air!

Hello and welcome to Radio H*, our family’s broadcast! Our first show covers a lot of ground including an introduction to the broadcast, a discussion of education models, parenting methodologies, pop culture and very fresh news, as well as a few social justice topics from around the world. Also, I’ve included a few readings and a first-time interview for both my daughter and myself.

All music is licensed under Creative Commons.

Disclosure: this podcast contains one incident of mild language.

Listen Now
Download as MP3 Subscribe in iTunes get the RSS

Links, more or less in chronological order:

My blog: kelly.hogaboom.org
My social justice project, Underbellie
My husband’s work: Grays Harbor College in Aberdeen, Washington

Featured podcast from Idzie Desmarias, “Unschoolers Are Us”. Also, Idzie’s blog: “I’m Unschooled. Yes I Can Write.”

News / Twitterfeed
“Worst Bullying PSA Ever” by Rosalind Wiseman

“Couple plead guilty in fatal Paradise child beating” at ChicoER.com

Child Training resources, at Michael and Debi Pearl’s site

“Anti-Childhood Obesity PSA Shames Fat Children” at Sociological Images

“Australian Ad Compares Junk Food to Heroin Abuse”

The Discourse, Dr. Samantha Thomas, award-winning Health Sociologist in Australia

“Nicole Richie shoots down pregnancy rumors” at NicoleRichie.org

The Conch Shell Deli, our subscriber-service home-gourmet restaurant

A passage read from the chapter “A Long-Expected Party” from The Fellowship of the Ring by J.R.R. Tolkien, purchased from (Jackson St) Books on Seventh.

Unplugged Mom Radio (the cited Wendy Priesnitz quote was from an interview featured April 9th, 2011)

From Wendy Priesnitz’s blog: “Devaluing the Currency of Education” (December 29, 2008)

Dan Savage and fat phobia, a Google search

Ben Hecht, American screenwriter

Intro: “Velvet-Browned Brilliant” from the freely downloadable album Lucky & Wild by Ben Seretan
Break: “Computer… Enhance” by Ralph Hogaboom
Outro: rough cut (not mixed) of “Carve Away”, recorded today by Ralph Hogaboom of Liights. Mighty Kitten Records for more info.


Thank you so much to all the artisans, authors, blog writers, and social network contacts and friends who have been such a rich source of growth, challenge, and joy for me. Special thanks to my children and partner, who daily inspire me to live life to the fullest I know how. And finally: Ralph, sa my audio engineer, web master, techie, and coffee-brewer, you’re at least half this effort.


* Tentative title

“Cooking is like making love, you do it well, or you do not do it at all” *

To The Devil Wit' Ye!

It’s pretty obvious, to me, the kids and I are creating some pretty incredible memories with regards to our little “restaurant”. Today: we emulsified mayonnaise (which failed, my fault, leaving me with a sink full of oil-soaked dishes and cutlery to tackle with my nonexistant water pressure, and the latter is no joke). The kids then packed themselves up and went off in the sunshine – together, they would not be separated – to Grandma’s to steal some mayonnaise, then home for washing up and: slicing homemade bread, salting rich-red tomatoes, washing and tearing lettuce, dressing avocados so they wouldn’t brown, assembling and wrapping sandwiches, installing chips and folding slices of pickle in wax-paper squares; sliding rich from-scratch birthday cake (with candle!) into parcels, preparing devilled eggs on a bed of red leaf lettuce, slicing navel oranges just right.

I show the kids the various methodologies I use to prepare food, skills will be in their blood for them to use or no, but for them always to remember the pride we take in cooking, and Nels and I finish the stacks for our customers including the little note we send out, personalized for each client. Phoenix vacuums the living room and rousts the cats, just a bit, so it won’t be terribly decadent when our visitors arrive. Then Ralph gets home and puts Nels in the tub (to tame his giant blonde mop of hair, mostly) and at least for our new customer, we make sure he emerges wrapped in a towel instead of nude, and he greets the man by name right away.

But the best part of my day personally was somewhere in between inception of the meal and customer delivery, where after our little boxes of BLT(A) and chips and pickle were on the counter, the kids requesting their own fare and going outside and waiting and knocking and getting to serve them, and how much they exclaimed in delight over the food, and Nels joyously said, “This is the best chocolate cake I’ve had in my life!”, and I had it with the pink candles he’d requested and all.

Birfday For Every1!


& now? I’m off to read Nels’ birth story, give him a kiss – if he’s willing – just in time for the exact moment of his birth (1:20 AM).

P.S. (Next week, at the Conch)

* Yeah, whatever. P.P.S. I’m a terrible lay.