Things I Want Right Now: Popcorn Edition

I haven't done this in a while. Eric O'Gorman used to do a thing on his EntropyandLight blog called "Things I want right now" where he would wax nostalgic about a food he missed tasting, like a peanut butter sandwich. Using my creative genius, I unashamedly stole the name of his post so I could reminisce on the days of stuffing my face. Specifically, I would really like to be eating this particular food at the moment:

Preferred methods of dying: lightning bolt, bear mauling, randomly crushed by falling anvil, drowning in popcorn

I LOVE popcorn. Love it. Love it. Love it. The best part about going to the movies is the previews at the beginning and the popcorn.

Cats like popcorn too, apparently

I heartily enjoy buying a large popcorn and munching on it until I'm sick to my stomach (usually happens by the third preview). Just writing this post and looking up popcorn images online is making me crazy!

I don't know if he's a slob or a genius...

Don't give me that kettle corn crap. Popcorn does not need sugar people! What sort of lunatic took the perfection of popcorn and decided to add sugar????? It's like saying, "Ooooh, peanut butter and chocolate make a delicious combination, but how about if I add a can of tuna fish?" Yes, it's EXACTLY like that!!!

All I need on my popcorn is salt, butter, and--if we're making it at home--parmesan cheese. What's that? You've never put parmesan cheese on your popcorn? Since I can't stop thinking about eating popcorn, let me give you a detailed description.

First, you need an air popcorn popper.

Ours looks like this. Orville Redenbacher is my soulmate.

In a small saucepan, add the desired amount of butter and melt over a burner on a low setting.

Liquid gold

While the butter is melting, dump a cup of popcorn kernels into your machine and plug that sucker in! Be sure to place a bowl under the popcorn chute. Or, if you want to live dangerously, see what happens if you aim it over your kitchen floor. 

I chose to be a sissy and use a bowl (Betsy made me do it)

HERE'S THE MOST IMPORTANT PART!! Once the butter is melted, add about 1/4 of a cup of parmesan cheese and stir until dissolved. YES, PARMESAN CHEESE!! PLEASE UNDERSTAND THAT I DON'T USE 'ALL CAPS' LIGHTLY!!!

Liquid gold with flecks of sunshine? The 'Liquid gold' metaphor isn't holding up.

If you've never tried popcorn this way, go make some right now! The parmesan/butter combination makes it irresistible. Pour your insanely delicious butter mixture over your popcorn, then add salt and mix it up to ensure that every kernel is fully coated with delicious cow fat. 

Butter will also settle on the bottom so you can scrape it up with the last kernels (I heard this is healthy!)

Now, it's all ready for you to enjoy. Please eat it right in front of me, or make a video of you devouring it and send it to me, so I can grind my teeth while imagining those crunchy bits of cheesy, buttery flavor dissolving in my mouth.

Just rub it in my face, you adorable little monster

Syringe Holder

I've been complimented a few times on my syringe holder. I could not live without it. Seriously. It is, without a doubt, the most important tool I use for tube feeding. Why? Because tube feeding is a two-handed operation. One hand needs to hold the tube steady while the other pours in the blend and pushes it in with the plunger. My left hand isn't up to the task so I need the holder to act in its stead. It wasn't my idea though.

Back in 2009, I was part of a yahoo group for tube feeding using blended diets. One of the tubie moms in that group (Maria Cho, if you're out there, I'm talking about you) posted a picture of a syringe holder and said it came in handy for feeding their son. She asked if anyone was interested in it because her husband was willing to make more.

At the time, I'd been unable to swallow for about 8 months and unable to move my left arm a couple years so I was still getting used to my new limitations. I was either trying to precariously balance my tube against the edge of tables while gravity feeding or relying on Betsy for bolus feeding. It was extremely frustrating for Betsy and I. Honestly, I don't know how moms are able to feed squirming kids blended meals. We made enough messes with me holding perfectly still while following Betsy's commands. It was very difficult for Betsy and I to adjust to me being dependent for such basic activities.

I just finished the book Laughing at My Nightmare by Shane Burcaw. Shane has been in a wheelchair since the age of 3 and has been dependent on others for just about every aspect of his life (you should read it if you get the chance; he has a great sense of humor; order it off his website). So I know I'm whining when I describe how depressed I was to need Betsy whenever I wanted to eat. I have a hard time asking for help, and I was reluctant to tell Betsy when I got hungry or when I needed to take my medicine. I was actually losing weight because formula made me nauseous and I hated sitting at the table waiting for Betsy to feed me.  The thought that I could use a syringe holder and not need to rely on Betsy--whose hands were already full taking care of our two-year old--was a revelation. I immediately responded to Maria's post and said I was very interested in getting a syringe holder.

Within a few weeks, her husband shipped one to me from their home in Seattle. That syringe holder, no kidding, changed my life. For the first time in months, I could sit at a table and feed myself. Not only did Maria's family send me that holder at no cost, they also sent me replacements regularly for the next couple years because the plastic clamp only lasts about a year and I was too dumb to figure out how to make my own syringe holder.

But now I know and it couldn't be easier.

Let me walk you through it.

You start with a cheap clip lamp. You can buy them at most hardware stores. I got the one pictured at Lowes:

I used to get plastic clip lamps, but I'm hoping this one lasts longer

Next, you cut off the cord because what sort of syringe holder needs a cord?

Fun project: use the cut cord as a noose for your daughter's Monster High dolls!

After this, you'll need to remove the head of the lamp. This is actually pretty easy. There is a nut holding the head on that you can remove with a pair of pliers:

I have a whole graphics team to label these photos

Now comes the tricky part. Well...it's not tricky for me, but you might have a hard time finding these pieces. Maria's husband used the bolt that held the lamp head in place to attach a metal plate and hook. It's pretty simple really; I just use that same metal plate and hook every time I need a new syringe holder. The tricky part is, I couldn't find those parts at Lowes or Home Depot, so if the plate and/or hook ever break down I'll have to figure something else out. Also, if you want to recreate this engineering masterpiece, you may need to find something else to bolt on there.

Behold: the aforementioned "metal plate and hook"

Admittedly, I didn't look very hard at the hardware store for those parts. They're not too complex so it seems like something Lowes would carry. If you're able to track them down please let me know in the comments.

A little grimy after 5+ years, but still works!

Yes, I did try to get in touch with Maria Cho and her husband to ask them for details about their syringe holder. I haven't heard back. I lost touch with them a few years ago. I remember their child was weaning off the feeding tube in 2010, so I'm sure they aren't even part of the blended diet community anymore. But, on the off chance you know them please extend my gratitude for sending me this tool!

If you don't want to get your hands dirty, there are syringe holders you can purchase online. They're called Jofas clamps:

Behold: The Jofas Clamp

You can order one at their website: www.jofas.net. I have one of these also. The thing I like is that the clamp can handle thicker tables than my homemade syringe holder. I've started to be extremely conscious of table thickness wherever I go. Like The Rainforest Cafe at the Mall of America has tables so thick, even my Jofas Clamp couldn't fit on it, so I had to clamp Jofas to the back of my chair and snake the arm around in front of me. That's another nice thing about the Jofas Clamp. As you can see in the picture, it has a long, flexible arm. This allows me to better adapt to situations where I need to clamp in at more of a distance from my feeding tube.

The downside to the Jofas Clamp is that the flexible arm is not as strong as my homemade syringe holder's arm. When I pour thick blends into my tube, it descends with the weight of the blend. I bought the clamp 5 years ago and I've been assured by the company that they've made improvements and the arm is stronger now. If that's the case then you can't go wrong getting a Jofas Clamp.

I kinda like having both clamps because my homemade one is easier to attach to the table (you screw the Jofas until it's firmly clamped on) and I'm normally not in a situation where I need a long arm on my syringe holder. At the same time, for situations where I need a long arm or for thicker tables, it's nice to have a Jofas Clamp. Hopefully, this post was informative--unlike my other posts, which are pointless drivel. If you have another idea for syringe holders or if you're Maria Cho or her husband, please let me know in the comments!

UPDATE!!! A tubie mom on Facebook recommends "Bendy Armz." Check it out on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Bendy-Armz-Attachment-Stroller-Bottle/dp/B00P6WZ7QY/ref=sr_1_1?s=baby-products&ie=UTF8&qid=1426177178&sr=1-1&keywords=bendy+arms. The mom says that they are "the perfect size for 60 ml syringes."

Behold: the Bendy Arm

They look great to me! I'm not sure if it would work for me personally because it seems like it would take two hands to clip the syringe onto the arm. With my holder or the Jofas Clamp, I only have to drop the syringe in place. But this looks like a very handy device for tubie parents!!

UPDATE NUMBER 2!!!!!! Jesse Jones recommended the Jackson PEG Stand, so I ended up getting one and wrote a short review here: http://travelingtubie.blogspot.com/2015/12/syringe-holder-update.html. 

Grace's Favorite Meal

It's amazing how much longer it takes me to do simple tasks since I lost the use of my left arm. Typing, getting dressed, taking showers, but nowhere is it more evident to me than when I'm cooking. I think I've mentioned before that I do most of the cooking when it comes to dinner. I've learned that meal preparation takes me twice as long as it should normally. Simple tasks that I wouldn't think twice about now suck up a lot of my prep time (skinning carrots and potatoes!!). Also, there are many cooking tools out there that are meant to be operated with two hands. Can openers, pepper grinders, cheese graters, egg beaters with a hand crank, just try doing all your cooking one-handed tonight and you'll see what I mean. Unless you're eating a microwave meal, you lazy, unhealthy piece of crap.

So, I cooked Grace's favorite meal the other night, which also happens to be the most labor intensive for me. Like any kid, Grace has her list of favorites. Favorite color, favorite food, favorite toy, favorite place, favorite sport, favorite game, favorite parent (me, obviously), the list goes on. So, it should come as no surprise that Grace has favorite dinners: spaghetti and Chinese omelet parcels. Those omelet things come from a kids' cookbook she got a few years ago. You can see what the end product is supposed to look like in the picture below:

Grace is supposed to be able to do this herself, yet she always gets out of it

The most difficult part is food prep on all the produce. I have to start fairly early in the day so I can work on it at my own pace. The first ingredient is bok choy:

This is bok choy.

I don't recall ever eating bok choy as a kid--thank you for contributing to my bok choy ignorance, mom. So, I honestly had to be directed to it at the grocery store and look up how to cut it online (thanks youtube 'How To' videos!). After a considerable amount of time--or maybe it just seemed like it--here is the prepped bok choy:

The leaves are edible too

Next, I needed a zucchini. This is a veggie I'm familiar with:

They look like this, right?

It needed to be cut into narrow, 1-2 inch strips like so:

Wait, what's that empty bowl at the top of the picture for??

After this, the recipe called for scallions, which I've learned (after making a fool out of myself at the store) is another name for green onions:

The blue band is NOT edible

After some quality time chopping those up, I've got a respectable amount:

Oh, that's what the bowl is for.

The recipe also calls for black bean sauce. I have an easy way to make this. Empty a can of black beans in the Vitamix, run the blender, and voilà - black bean sauce:

At least I think that's black bean sauce

Now, the cooking begins! Fry up the aforementioned vegetables (only use a few tablespoons of the black bean sauce) in peanut oil with garlic, cilantro, and bean sprouts:

What did you have for dinner, you fat slob??

Then, in a smaller omelet pan, fry up individual eggs to wrap the vegetables in:

Nine out of ten of these have huge holes or got too browned when I cooked them

Finally, it's time to wrap the vegetable medley in your egg. I tell myself this would look a whole lot better if I could do it with two hands

Look back up at the first picture and try to tell me I didn't nail it!

My most important audience doesn't give a crap whether my Chinese omelet parcels match the photo and requests it constantly, especially on days I really don't feel like cooking, so I call it a success!

Put enough soy sauce on it and it doesn't matter what it looks like!

You need to know about Team R4V!!!!!!!

Short version of this blog post:

Please go to this link (here) and help my brother-in-law' and sister's box ('gym' to the layperson) at Reebok Crossfit Nuernberg support Team Racing for Veterans (Team R4V). The money raised will be used for their Warrior Crossfit program, which helps disabled veterans at gyms like Crossfit Walter Reed. That's the box at Walter Reed military hospital where veterans who've lost limbs or suffered other injuries in combat learn that, not only can they overcome their disability, but they can improve their mental state and get in even better shape than they were before being wounded. Check out this youtube video:

CrossFit Walter Reed

So, please donate and help my brother, Drake, reach his fundraising goal for Lactic Acid Love Affair before February 14!!

Long Version of the blog post:

I've written a few times about the Disabled Veterans Winter Sports Clinic I go to in Snowmass, Colorado. It's normally at the end of March, toward the end of the season there. This is actually a perfect time to go--not too crowded, conditions are usually still good. We have an amazing time and meet so many inspiring wounded warriors. I really hope we can go every year.

However, it's pretty expensive. The clinic does give me free meals, and I get free equipment rentals and free lift tickets. But, we have to pay for flights for the three of us, we have to pay for the hotel room, Grace' and Betsy's meals, and their lift tickets. It's a costly week, but I couldn't imagine going by myself. Betsy is my spokesman; she's my advocate; she helps me travel, eat, and get where I need to be. Grace is our ambassador; plus I know it's an incredible learning opportunity for her, not just to be able to ski, but to meet all these different veterans and understand their disabilities. Just seeing Grace puts a smile on everyone's face--I think if I stopped going, they'd miss her more than they'd miss me.

Can we afford it every year though? It's a big chunk out of our budget, so we were thinking about maybe skipping a year. Then I applied for a grant from Team Racing for Veterans (Team R4V). If you read my blog closely (....wait....does anyone read my blog closely?!? Am I just blogging to myself? Do I even read this blog???) you'll know that I met the chairman of Team R4V, Jeff Haugh, at the last Winter Sports Clinic. He asked if I wanted to join him on a 60-miles-in-24-hours hike last May. So I raised money and managed to slow the whole team up while only hiking 16 miles. Despite my hiking ineptitude, Jeff recommended that I apply to Team R4V for a grant to pay for our family to go to Snowmass for the next clinic. So, I sent in an application. I thought the best they could do was maybe help pay for my plane ticket but I went ahead and asked for everything: plane tickets for three, hotel room for a week, and meal tickets. Worst that could happen is they say no, right?

A few weeks later, I got an e-mail saying that Team R4V would cover everything; not just my travel to the clinic but everything we needed for Betsy and Grace too!!! How awesome is that?!? What did they ask from me in return? All they wanted was for us to tattoo "Team R4V" over every inch of Grace's body and legally change her name to "Team R4V Liebenow." We were planning on doing that anyway so it's like free money!!!!

No, actually, all they requested was for me to write about my trip in a couple blog posts because I have trillions of followers and it's good publicity (pay no attention to that whole "does anyone read my blog closely?!? Am I just blogging to myself? Do I even read this blog???" thing above; world leaders read my blog closely; so does Oprah).

How amazing is this charity??? They understand that fitness has tremendous power for disabled people. It is so easy when you've lost a limb, or suffer from paralysis, brain damage, blindness, loss of swallowing, or any other debilitating injury to give up, sit on the couch, and lament the abilities you used to have. But this will only lead to a depressing downward spiral that will ostracize you from your friends and family and ultimately increase your health problems. Team R4V encourages veterans to set athletic goals and then helps them achieve them. They support veterans in any type of athletic endeavor, including Crossfit, several different marathons and triathlons (there was a big team at the last Marine Corps Marathon), and even events like the Winter Sports Clinic.

Speaking of Crossfit, my sister and brother-in-law are doing this thing called Lactic Acid Love Affair. It's on Valentine's Day, because people who do Crossfit are in love with exercise. Don't worry; none of the proceeds will go to support my trip to Colorado. All of the money raised will go toward helping wounded veterans vastly improve their morale while rediscovering their limits at Crossfit gyms. Again, here's the link: https://www.crowdrise.com/RCFNLacticLoveAffaire/fundraiser/drakesladky/1/return/success/success.

They wanted to use a picture of me bench pressing for their ad campaign, but it was too intimidating

If you don't like my brother-in-law because he took you surfing for your first time off Hawaii's North Shore in December and you had to be rescued after getting pummeled by monster waves, then donate to my sister's fundraising page here (link)!!! That seems like an oddly specific reason...

Again, please donate before February 14!

DNA Evidence

For the first year of her life, my daughter was an orphan. She does not know--nor will she likely ever know--who conceived her or why she was left in front of a photo shop the day after her birth. She will never know what her 'birth parents' looked like or if she has siblings or cousins still in China--or potentially adopted by another family.

Orphanage picture; they add extra clothes so the child looks healthier

These are difficult things for me to wrap my head around. I know my wife has trouble just reading those first three sentences. It's hard for us to think about Grace's life before we adopted her or her 'other' family. Neither of us were adopted. Everyone close to us growing up knew who their birth parents were. My best understanding of being an orphan came from Annie and Oliver Twist. How could I possibly empathize with how my daughter feels?

Now, my heart aches whenever Grace talks about family tree school projects or asks about her birth mother. On her Gotcha Day, we make it a point to think about Grace's birth mother and thank her for the courage to recognize that she wasn't able to care for her baby and give her up. Right now, Grace is content with her life and her family. As she grows older, will this change? Will she increasingly yearn for her birth mother and Yingtan City, the place of her birth? In a fit of anger for some future grounding, will she yell, "you're not my real daddy!!!!" That would break my heart, yet as difficult as it is for me to hear Grace talk about her birth mother, it must be a hundred times harder for my little girl to think that she may have been 'unwanted.' 

Recently, we came across a Facebook post that mentioned 23andMe DNA testing. Betsy and I looked it up and we were excited about the possibilities. Grace could discover other siblings or distant cousins. Could it give her a better sense of herself when she's older? We decided to buy a DNA kit and encouraged the other girls from her orphanage to do the same. Who knows, maybe the 'Yingtan Sisters' (the name we gave the girls from her orphanage) really are sisters!

The package arrived in the mail. It could not have been easier. Grace had to spit into a test tube multiple times up to a 'fill' line.

"I spit in a tube just like daddy!!!"

Then, we dropped it in the mail and sent it back to the company.

Inside this box is a tube of spit

In a matter of weeks, we got her DNA results!

Unfortunately, we did not find that Grace has any siblings, first, or second cousins. We were also disappointed that the other families from Grace's orphanage haven't shown a desire to get the DNA test done. The results were that Grace is 96.7% Chinese, 2.28% Korean, 0.6% Japanese, and 0.4% 'broadly East Asian.' We also discovered that Grace is distantly related to Yo-Yo Ma on her mother's side. Grace was extremely excited to do the test and ecstatic to learn she's related to Yo-Yo Ma. However, in the future, I fear that she'll be dissatisfied with the generalities of 23andMe's results.

But here's a video of Yo-Yo Ma with Sting

There are other places to get DNA tests. NationalGeographic.com (link to buy their test) and ancesty.com (Ancestry's link) are two other popular DNA testing centers. We really want to do them all (at least the reputable ones anyway) so hopefully Grace can discover something more about herself. I can see how other families might be reluctant to do these tests. Some parents feel like they could just get their child's hopes up. Other families might be of the opinion that "this is the only family that matters now; why confuse the child with knowledge about other relatives?" or "my child is already confident in herself; if she wants to do a DNA test later in life, we will certainly support her."

I think a lot of this depends on the child. Grace was enthusiastic about the DNA test and is eager to try others. From my standpoint, more information about Grace's heritage will help her feel more grounded. Any relatives of Grace's we find will be my relatives too, so I look forward to hearing more about Grace's ancestry and family connections!!

That time I fell through the attic

Oh yeah, about that time I fell through the attic.

It's sort of amusing and makes me look like an idiot, so I thought I'd share it with the world!

This happened two years ago I think? As I've mentioned, I'm an avid reader and there isn't enough shelf space for all my books in the house, so we keep several boxes of books in the attic above our garage. I always wait until Betsy's out of the house to do risky things because I know she'll just say, "You know you'll just fall and hurt yourself, dummy!!!" So one morning, while my wife was at work, I decided to go up in the attic to find some books.

It was summertime. I went up there early so it wouldn't get too hot, but the temperature was already rising rapidly in the dimly lit, confined space. Like many attics, ours has an area running down the middle (where the roof peaks to its highest point) that has a plywood floor we use for storage. Step off the wooden floor, however, and you find yourself trying to balance on 2 by 6 inch joists with nothing between them but a flimsy layer of sheetrock.

The books were far from both the entry to the attic and the only light source, so I was trying to juggle a flashlight while slinging boxes around. Sweat was already beginning to drip off my nose as I struggled to find the right books as quickly as possible. After a lengthy amount of time partially bent over and perspiring, I was so intent on looking at the next box that I failed to look where I placed my foot and brought it down on sheetrock.

Abruptly, I started to drop through the floor to the garage below. Using my cat-like reflexes, I was able to grab on to one of the joists on my way down. Or maybe I was just flailing wildly in my panic and got lucky--we'll never know. Regardless, I managed to arrest my fall and dangled from the joist with nothing but a five foot drop below me.

It took roughly 500 man-hours to create this image

A decade ago, this would have been no big deal. I could've just brought my other hand up to grab the joist and gently dropped down to the floor below. In this case, though, my left hand wasn't working and I wasn't sure about my ability to land without hurting myself since my left leg is partially paralyzed and it can't absorb the impact from falling like it used to.

There was another, much more pressing, consideration. In the picture, can you see the cable dangling down from the hole? That is part of the cable that runs from our TV, back into the wall, up through the attic, and out on the roof to our antenna because we're too cheap to buy cable. That cable was between my legs.

Here's what was running through my head (yes, I hanged there from the ceiling for quite a while): just how strong was that cable? Because if it was a strong cable, I could let go of the joist, then painfully take that tight wire straight to the balls, then perhaps it would flip me over, and I would land on my head, and Betsy would come home to find her husband's brains spattered on the floor.

So, there I was. Dangling from the ceiling like that kitten on the "Hang in There" poster. I kept trying, unsuccessfully, to swing one leg over the wire. Also the garage door was open. I hoped that someone would pass by, walking their dog on the street. Then I could yell at them to come up and help me down. But my neighborhood picked that moment to be devoid of life.

"Why don't you try 'hanging in there,' asshole!!"

Nobody tells you what happens when that cat can't hold on any longer. Where's that demotivational poster?

I was fighting a losing battle. My pitiful cries for help went unanswered. My right side has the strength of ten men, but even my herculean muscles begin to flag over time. I finally figured oh, screw it, kissed my private parts goodbye, and let go of the joist.

As you can tell from the dangling cable--and the fact that I'm alive and writing this post--it snapped as soon as I put weight on it. I came down fairly hard and banged my head on the car hard enough to put a dent in it, but otherwise I was fine. No pain to the groin area!!! 

There's still a chalk outline on the ground where my body fell

After hitting the ground, I realized I'd dropped my flashlight and it was still up there where I fell through. So, like any moron, I went right back up the ladder to retrieve the light (didn't fall that time though...SUCCESS!!). I didn't say anything to Betsy until she happened to call later that afternoon:

Betsy: "Hey, babe, I'm on my way home. I think I'm going to stop by Target. Do you need anything?"

Brian: "No, I'm good...well I might have a medication ready. Could you stop by the pharmacy?"

Betsy: "Sure. I'll see you in a bit! Love you!"

Brian: "Love you! Oh, I fell through the attic so don't freak out when you see the hole in the garage."

Betsy: "WHAT?!?!?!?!?"

Brian: "See you later!"

Betsy: "YOU SON OF A-"

*click*

I ate duck yesterday.

Here's my latest confession: I use Twitter a lot (@Traveling_Tubie). This probably isn't much of a revelation if you're a Millenial, or if you're a techno junkie. But most of my friends have never tweeted in their lives.

When I first heard about Twitter, I scoffed at the idea. All you do is tell all your followers what you're doing?? The only people who might be interested in such a thing is the Kardashians--because they're so self-absorbed--and anyone who avidly cares about the Kardashians--because they have no life. Why on earth would anyone care if I tweet that I'm going to get a haircut? Who am I so enamored with that I would check twitter to see what they had for breakfast?

It's not really like that though, and actually it turns out there are certain people I love to follow on twitter. I'm a geek, and I love to read fantasy and science fiction books. I kept this from Betsy until after she married me (Ha Ha!). You can read more about it in my road trip post. It turns out that many of the authors I like (Tad Williams, Patrick Rothfuss, Brandon Sanderson, Scott Lynch, Neil Gaiman, John Scalzi...wait...you don't care do you?) are on twitter and tweet often about the projects they're working on. I love reading their tweets and sometimes they respond if I say something to them. Usually they tell me stuff like, "please stop tweeting me," or "what is wrong with you?" so I'm clearly making an impact!!

I also follow news outlets because I get news much faster on Twitter. During that Australian hostage standoff the other night, I turned to Twitter for news because I could get eye-witness accounts of what was happening. Plus I follow ESPN and CBS Sports because every team I like has a Twitter page and if I can't watch the game on TV, they tweet scores real-time on their feed. I follow the University of Tennessee women's soccer team because Grace and I like going to the games. They keep their Twitter page updated with play-by-play action during every game.

On top of this, I can follow others who inspire me. I'm interested in astronomy so I follow Neil deGrasse Tyson, the Mars Curiosity Rover, NASA, SETI, the 2013 class of NASA astronauts, and the astronauts on the ISS for pictures from space. In terms of tube feeding, I follow Real Food Blends, Vitamix, Blendtec, DrinkYourMeals, and other tubies (my current favorite is Shane Burcaw; check out his book, Laughing at my Nightmare).

But anyway, the point of me telling you this is that I follow the Washington Post's Food page on Twitter. My Aunt (not my real Aunt, but I've known her all my life and I've always called her 'Aunt') is an Editor for the Food Section of the Washington Post so I like to hear their fun recipe ideas.

It's hard to cook turkey for our family because they weigh about 100 pounds (rough estimate) these days and this is way too much meat for the three of us. Even turkey breasts have more meat than we could eat over three or four days. So, I got the idea to try duck this year. Before Thanksgiving, I bought a Peking duck at the grocery store.

The picture doesn't show the dog drooling under the counter

They are the perfect size for two or three people. I've never cooked duck before so I tweeted to the Washington Post and asked if cooking a duck was the same as cooking a turkey. They immediately responded, told me the two don't cook the same, and they gave me a link to a recipe I could use. I followed the recipe exactly and it turned out perfectly.

Looks delicious, if I do say so myself (Aspen was still drooling)

Betsy said it tasted like "really good turkey;" Grace loved it.

We also had rice and a vegetable medley

I put a bunch in my Vitamix, and we still had quite a bit for leftovers today!

Betsy makes me pose like this until it pours out on my lap

If you're not on Twitter, give it a try. If you are, then follow @Traveling_Tubie. I only tweet about vitally important things (like the last time I trimmed my nose hair).