It Came from the Clear, Blue Sky

Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned. It has been 5 days since my last post.

Yesterday we had a little thunder-boomer. It is typical for this time of year, and this storm was highly localized with 99% of the storm in the city of Charlottesville. I can’t prove it, but the storm seems to have spun off a small twister that travelled through our little neighborhood, right through my little vegetable patch and over my house. The vegetable garden is flat. Just squash. Ha ha. Daughter Ion says it will come back. The air smells like flattened herbs, especially cilantro. Yum! I smell it and want to make salsa.

Fresh salsa from the garden:

Things You'll Need:

· 4 tomatoes, diced

· 1/3 cup of onion, diced

· 1/2 bell pepper, with seeds removed and diced

· 2 Tablespoons or small bunch of cilantro, chopped

· 1 clove of garlic finely minced

· 1 jalapeno or serrano pepper, with seeds removed and diced

· 1 Tablespoon of fresh lime juice

· salt and pepper to taste

· Dice vegetables into a bowl, including juice.

· Add salt ans pepper to taste.

· Serve with chips.

Our lovely Japanese neighbors across the street, with the nicest yard, lost a maple tree. Our little elm tree is turned inside out. It is hard to describe it any other way. The limbs are all arranged differently than the day before. Out back of the house, the sycamore lost two of five tops, and there are numerous other trees and limbs down. I can’t walk the dogs through our little mini woods; it is obstructed. On the other hand, the backyard is likely to get a lot more sun. I stopped by the house at 3 PM today to see if the power had been restored. Nope. Over 24 hours without power in a hot humid climate is not pretty. I don’t dare open the refrigerator. The puddle of water on the kitchen floor tells me the ice has melted in the freezer. So much for that food.

Nighty-night.

-Radioactive Girl 2010

Origins of Radioactive Girl III

Forgive me, readers, for I have sinned. It has been...oh, well, you do the math...too long since my last post.

Further origins of Radioactive Girl

I can’t remember when I first had an interest in things radioactive. When do we learn about radiation? How? I think it’s something that we absorb from the culture we are immersed in. One thing I do remember is when the Maine Yankee Nuclear Power Plant (right) was built, in my old stomping grounds of Maine. There must have been some controversy- placing a nuclear power right smack on the coast of good ol’ Vacationland. My brother’s Physics class was going to tour the plant before it opened, and I begged the teacher to let me go along. The power plant was right on the water- constructed on the Bailey Peninsula o Wiscassett, Maine. The power plant ran from 1972 to 1996, producing much of Maine’s power. It was and remains Maine’s only nuclear power plant.

When we arrived in Wiscassett, we found that this was actually a press conference and not a tour. There was a viewing window where we could gaze at the power plant across the waters of the bay. I was a bit disgruntled about that! Time Magazine was on hand for the opening. There were refreshments and lots of videos and presentations promoting the power plant, but I really wanted to see the working guts.

To this date I have never toured the inside of a working power plant. The University of Virginia (my employer) had a Nuclear Physics program and a working reactor, but it was decommissioned before I arrived here. It’s just an empty building, now. Where will the next generation of Health Physicists train?

Nighty-night.

-Radioactive Girl

Why can't I lose weight?

Why can’t I lose weight?

After my orthopedic injury, I gained about 20 “excess” pounds. My doctor told me I had to lose them. Before my surgery, I had the perfect excuse that I could not exercise, could not even walk as evidenced by my handicapped status, and I milked that excuse for all it was worth. After surgery to repair the damaged joint, I found myself unable to eat anything because of nausea brought on by pain medications. My doctor again told me to lose the 20 pounds. Six months out, and still 20 pounds overweight, he reiterated his command. Now, one year after my surgery, I am doing famously- no drugs, and can even work out at the gym. My weight, however, continues to creep up. “Well,” said the trainer after two months had failed to take off even one pound (in fact I packed on two) “muscle weighs more than fat.” True, but I know fat when I see it! My BMI and body fat % both improved, but I can see it is going to be a long, slow road. Here’s why- I eat. And eat. My favorite food is chocolate, and I have found a way to put all four food groups into chocolate. Let me demonstrate:

Magic Cookie Bars from EAGLE BRAND®

Ingredients

· 1/2 cup butter or margarine, melted

· 1 1/2 cups graham cracker crumbs (Grains- whole, even)

· 1 (14 ounce) can EAGLE BRAND® Sweetened Condensed Milk (Dairy)

· 2 cups semisweet chocolate morsels

· 1 1/3 cups flaked coconut (Fruits and Vegetables)

· 1 cup chopped nuts (Protein)

Directions

1. Heat oven to 350 degrees F (325 degrees for glass dish). Coat 13x9-inch baking pan with no-stick cooking spray.

2. Combine graham cracker crumbs and butter. Press into bottom of prepared pan. Pour sweetened condensed milk evenly over crumb mixture. Layer evenly with chocolate chips, coconut and nuts. Press down firmly with a fork.

3. Bake 25 minutes or until lightly browned. Cool. Cut into bars or diamonds. Store covered at room temperature. Enjoy!

See? All four food groups plus chocolate which will soon have its own group- antioxidants or mood enhancers or some such. Guilt free!

Nighty-night.

Radioactive Girl.

Farming 102- chickens

14 May 2010

Earlier in this blog I mentioned our three chickens. You may think we got them so that each of the three dogs could have one as a pet. I assure you that any one of our dogs would love to give the chicks what my S.O. calls “pointy kisses.” If I had started the blog just a week or so earlier, however, we would have reported six chickens. There is a rule in Virginia, apparently, that you cannot buy fewer than six baby chicks. So on April first, April fools ever, we bought six, day-old pullets at a local farm store. We were given pause by the instructions not to fondle or kiss the chicks. What could possibly happen to them? (Actually, my first thought was. “Who would want to?” but I realized almost any child would.) Turns out this is to prevent the humans from contracting salmonella poisoning. Ion chose three red and three yellow chicks. Although they were together from hatching, the six would naturally segregate into little groups by color. Hmmm.

We raised the chicks in the living room (not recommended- they are stinky little buggers) until the weather warmed enough for them to go outside. Outside, the chicks lived in a sturdy dog crate, the reasoning being that if a dog could not get out, then a fox, our local predator, could not get in. Wrong! One night, in full view of the German Shepherd Dog, something got to the chickens. The wire openings in the bottom of the pen were slightly larger, and some small predator- a weasel or cat, perhaps, had dug a hole and squeezed under.

In the morning I noticed that the chickens were very quiet. Then I saw that two white pullets and one red were missing. Closer examination of the crime scene showed the tunnel into the pen, feathers, blood, and further carnage. Of the three remaining pullets, only one was unscathed, and she was covered in her sisters’ blood so that it was not immediately apparent if she was red or white. The two surviving red chickens had terrible wounds, one a dislocated wing, the other’s wing was torn completely off. Fortunately there were no bodies to discover and bury, just a few scattered feathers. I think that I was in shock as long as the chickens, who recovered by the next day. Their little dinosaur brains are quick to forget. The two injured ones are still understandably unhappy about being touched. All three survivors are back to thriving, but we bring them into the living room at night now.

Nighty-night.

-Radioactive Girl

Farming 101- Gardening

The great lawn into garden experiment

In April I dug up some of my front lawn.

Last year, it was the back lawn. I was able to grow some flowers and Coleus, but no vegetables. The spearmint, a plant that can overtake the planet if unchecked, barely made an appearance this spring. Why? The site gets no sun. None. Full shade full time. Heavier than normal rains probably didn’t help, either. The rain last year even drowned out a nascent lawn. Grass is coming up downstream, this spring. Undaunted, I set the spade to the front lawn. The experts told me there was not enough sun, but I happen to know that in the afternoon and early evening, the lawn gets almost full sun. So I was undaunted. I had to dig up the area where we pulled out four 20-year-old azaleas last year, in order to replant with new ones, so I just carried on a bit and ended up with a three by twenty foot vegetable patch, right smack in front of the house. On one side only- there is a sidewalk from the driveway on the other.

So far I planted tons more tomato plants than any family of three needs, including several heirloom varieties. They are not my personal heirlooms, but they were available locally so maybe they are Virginia heirlooms (see Mr. Stripey, above). I planted two eggplants, a couple of peppers, zucchini and summer squash, cucumber and numerous herbs. Cilantro, parsley, basil, and a few I forgot. I have seeds for even more herbs but I have not gotten them in the ground. Gee, they should have gone in first!

You can see that is probably too much for a 3x20 foot plot that was lawn three weeks ago, but I’m already holding myself back. I have so missed a vegetable garden! Where will I put the beans? The peas? The greens? I had planned to put the lettuce and greens out back and chance the shade, but the gargantuan (possible irradiated?) groundhog eats everything to the ground back there, even the dandelions. In front of the dogs. Apparently groundhogs are smart enough to know when a dog can’t get at them. He is so fat that I have wondered f groundhogs are good eating. Don’t wonder that out loud! In an area of the country where people eat fatback and squirrel and pickled pigs’ feet and consider it haute cuisine, everybody looks at me as if I’m mad. What? Groundhogs’re vegetarians. They eat the best food; I know, it comes from my garden!

I am told that I am tempting fate and that this part of Virginia may get frost until mid-may, but so far the little garden has weathered two frosts with just some wilting, no deaths. Deaths are much more likely from me forgetting to water things. There is a little community garden across the circle from us, but I have noticed that it gets even less sun that my lawn, and there is no water available except by bucket brigade. I still may throw my extra pepper plant in there. I got carried away with six-packs, and gave my friend at work tomatoes, peppers, zucchini and summer squash to reduce my planting burden. She’s already got squash blossoms; my plants are not yet all in the ground. Hmmmm. I should have given her more!

Nighty-night. Radioactive Girl 2010

Happy Birthday to Me! Bah, humbug.

Forgive me, reader, for I have sinned. It is now three days since my last blog post. I realize that I have no readers, but still...

Sometime around 5:30 AM this morning, I think, was the anniversary of my birth. That is also when the puppy, Seren Ci, an eight-month-old Cardigan Welsh Corgi, was waking me up by snuffling around my head, burrowing under the blankets, and bouncing on and off of the bed. She's young enough that I don't dare not get up and walk her as soon as she wakes.

Seren Ci is one translation of "dog star" into Welsh. It is probably not the best translation, but it sounded the most like a pronounce-able name.

I am a woman of indeterminate age, or whatever the politically correct term for me is, and today I have a stabbing pain in my back from working out Tuesday after more than a week's hiatus. I guess you could say I am feeling my age. (It's an indeterminate pain.)

I realize that this whole process started in order that my daughter establish herself a blog. She has not yet done so. We wondered again last night what her blog would be about. Maybe, like Seinfeld, or like my blog, it can be about nothing.

Nighty-night. Radioactive Girl 2010

Origins of Radioactive Girl part deux

10 May 2010

Last time I told you about the alleged origins of health physicists. The origins of Radioactive Girl are not shrouded in quite the mystery. In the late 1990's, I was a mild-mannered lake biologist, working for the University of South Florida and Hillsborough County on a collaborative website called the "Hillsborough County Lake Atlas."

When I called about the position, 'Lake Atlas biologist wanted,' I asked where Lake Atlas was. The boss found this humorous, but hired me anyway. Their biologist(one of two) had quit after just one day on the job. I was a better fit- what was not to love? I got to go to work in my bathing suit, use interesting technology that I'd never tried before, and jump in and out of lakes all day, then write about it all online. It was in many ways my dream job. It was also part time and temporary. When the job ended, I was moping about the office lamenting about my impending unemployment. No doubt tired of my whining, my administrative assistant asked, "How about being a Health Physicist? The University is looking for one."

"Let me see," I said, and hopped on a computer to Google Health Physicist. As it turns out, the university particularly liked biologists as health physicists, because most of the research labs using radioisotopes were in Biology or Medicine. The University was hiring for two positions; I got one. Reyes, a former medical student, got the other. Thus my career as Radioactive Girl was born. I was given a meter- a Ludlum 2401-P pocket-sized, handheld GM detector (above), but no super powers. Yet! Nighty-night,

-Radioactive Girl 2010

An Occurence at Owl Creek Bridge

10 May 2010

Forgive me readers, for I have sinned. It has been three days since my last post.

I watched “An Occurence at Owl Creek Bridge,” a 1962 Cannes Film Festival winner, with Ion. It is a short film (28 minutes) from the Ambrose Bierce story by the same name. I think Bierce spelled it right, though. The movie is black and white, with very little dialogue. I was surprised that 12 year old Ion, child of 3-D, computer animation and special effects was held by the plot. I remembered the story from a reading assignment in high school, but could not remember how it ended. Then, near the end of the film (spoiler alert!) I had a sudden flash of the story’s finale. I felt the same way at the end of the film as I had felt as the story ended when I read it more than a decade ago (OK, more than three decades ago)- betrayed by Bierce. I won’t tell you why- the story is short and available on the internet; you can rent the movie from NetFlix. If you didn’t have to read it in high school that is. This is Radioactive Girl, signing off.

Nighty-night.

Origins of Radioactive Girl

You may have noticed that I sign my posts "Radioactive Girl." Where does the name come from? First of all, it is a blatent theft of a name from Bart Simpson's (Matt Groening) favorite super hero comic book, Radioactive Man and Fallout Boy. Only I am a girl! In 1998 or so, I first dressed up as Radioactive Girl, for Halloween. Despite the theft, I come by the name honestly, in a fashion. I am by profession a Health Physicist or Radiation Safety Officer.

What is a Health Physicist, you may ask? I know I did, when I first encountered the name. A Health Physicist looks out for the safety of radiation workers, in a manufacturing or nuclear power plant, in research laboratories, or in a medical center- anywhere ionizing radiation is used. The history is just as obscure. One version says that the field was created with the Manhattan Project. The Manhattan Project, the secret name for the creation of the first atomic bomb, was expected to use large quantities of radioactive isotopes, and people were hired to protect the health of those working with the materials. Previously we learned that overexposure to ionizing radiation in the form of radium and X-rays could cause burns and cancer in humans. The job title was chosen because "radiation protection" might arose unwanted interest.

Perhaps a more historically accurate coinage comes from Paul Frame, who ought to know:

History of the term "Health Physics"

According to Paul Frame ^[4]:

"The term Health Physics is believed to have originated in the Metallurgical Laboratory at the University of Chicago in 1942, but the exact origin is unknown. The term was possibly coined by Robert Stone or Arthur Compton, since Stone was the head of the Health Division and Arthur Compton was the head of the Metallurgical Laboratory. The first task of the Health Physics Section was to design shielding for reactor CP-1 that Enrico Fermi was constructing, so the original HPs were mostly physicists trying to solve health-related problems. The explanation given by Robert Stone was that '...the term Health Physics has been used on the Plutonium Project to define that field in which physical methods are used to determine the existence of hazards to the health of personnel.'

Night-night.

Radioactive Girl 2010

Credit for Julie and Julia

06 May 2010.

Forgot to credit Julie and Julia in my previous post,so here it is: The book by Julie Powell (right), "Julie and Julia, 365 days, 524 recipes, 1 tiny apartment kitchen." You can't click to look inside from my blog. Sorry.

And I'd also like to credit the movie, "Julie and Julia," (above) directed by Nora Ephron and starring Meryl Streep as Julia Child. I bet there's a lot of copyright violating in blogs. At least mine. It is unintentional.

After seeing the film, I checked out eBay online and Barnes and Noble in person looking for "Mastering the Art of French Cooking" by Julia Child. The bookstore did not even have a copy, and the website did not yield one that was immediately accessible given our budget and the constraints of auction format. Too bad. Ion and I could have fun with it. We want to try making boeuf bourguignon and boning a duck. No aspic, though.

Nighty-night.

This is Radioactive Girl 2010

No time to say hello goodbye.

06 May 2010. Yesterday was Cinco de Mayo, so Ion and I celebrated the defeat of the French army by the Mexicans with a colleague of mine by having margaritas (me) and Mexican food. Ion took a Garth Nix book to dinner, so she was not a stellar dinner companion. Of course the margaritas were not nearly as potent as I would make at home. Still, it was nice to get out of the house. With the three dogs and three chickens (not to mention four gerbils; after all, who would mention gerbils?), as well as my mini urban garden and a plethora of newly-planted shrubbery, sometimes I feel like all of my free time is spent watering something.

Ion and I just finished reading aloud Emmy and the Incredible Shrinking Rat by Lynne Jonell, and highly recommend it for the preteen reader. We try to squeeze in a little shared reading each night. After everyone is watered.

Classic Margarita recipe:

1 1/2 oz Tequila

1/2 oz premium triple sec (preferably Cointreau)
1 oz lime juice 9freshly squeezed)

Shake with ice. Serve in a salt-rimmed glass.

Serves one.

Nighty night.

-Radioactive girl 2010

Life Amongst the Fallout

5 May 2010. A date that surely must be from science fiction! My daughter, let's call her Ion, and I watched Julie and Julia last night, and Ion wondered how to create a blog. A few keystrokes, and here I am. There may never be another entry. I, Radioactive Girl, am no chef, nor am I a writer, nor do I have anything to blog about! Yes, I am radioactive, but so are you, and just about every other thing in this universe! So there. Nighty-night.

-Radioactive Girl 2010