Rebuild from Depression Blog

Stay out of the garden. Stay off of the porch. If you can't find another home, you will soon be dinner. You are a depression buster food, after all.

In early 2006, Michael Moore put out a call for stories about the health care industry for his documentary Sicko. While I didn't have a specular story (thank goodness), the email hit me at the right time and it inspired an email campaign to Michael Moore. I'm sure that wine was involved (not the best thing for a person to be drinking who is rebuilding from depression) but I am not sure how else to explain my willingness to beat on a rabbit.

This one is from some time in early February:

Hi Michael.

I intended to write to you back in the early 90s with a marriage proposal after seeing "Roger and Me." Apparently I was too busy with college to follow through. But we're both married now (and perhaps you were then), so I write to you some 15 years later in response to your request for "Sicko" content.

I have a pretty compelling story about what the health care industry should be providing but it isn't because it is making too much money by not providing it.

Below is a draft of an article I am working on for a magazine and it will give you the flavor of what I am talking about. It begins "My grandmother died at the age of 61 of complications from postpartum depression."

Read it for old-times sake.

The article content comes from a book I am writing about depression. (I'll send you a copy in a few months.) It provides medical research on the link between nutrients and depression. Things like zinc and magnesium are at least as therapeutic for depression as pharmaceutical options, they just take a while to correct.

And if I don't make it into "Sicko" based on this content, perhaps you could squeeze me in for a cameo. I would be happy to color-analyze you incorrectly or beat on a rabbit or two for old-times sake.

Send my best to your wife.

Amanda

All relationships require follow-up. Here's how it went:

Hi Michael.

You need me to butcher a rabbit on Sicko.

I sent you a letter back in February (you know, mine was the letter with concerns about the health care system). I told you that I almost sent you a marriage proposal after seeing Roger and Me back in college. But I bet you get that from all the girls.

The rabbit butchering would be a great Roger and Me tie-in and would highly amuse your long-term fans. It would be a great inside joke for all of us.

Well, it's not really a joke.
Or at least I can play it straight if you want me to.

Here's the science: I've been researching nutrients and depression and have identified six vitamins, minerals, and fatty acids that are most commonly linked to depression. There have been clinical trials using these nutritional supplements with depressed patients and the studies find that the nutrients actually augment anti-depressant medication. The nutrients work without the medication too. It's amazing that the American public doesn't know this.

But here's where the rabbit comes in: I used a USDA database of 7,000 foods and identified foods that I call "depression-busters." Depression-busters are foods with the highest concentration of the six "depression nutrients." And guess what meat made the list? That's where the rabbit comes in. Rabbit is a depression-buster.

Michael, we could hunt some rabbit together. I don't know how to hunt and last time we shot a rooster on our property, I had to call my dad to do the deed, and I ran far away to avoid stray bullets. I would have looked like an 8-year-old school girl if it were not for my 200-pound frame. But I would learn to shoot for you. I could even try to trap a rabbit, much like the bear I tried to trap in college the time when I caught the family dog instead.

And I'm willing to learn how to hang up the rabbit and skin it. I was a Future Farmer of America. This is no kind of challenge at all.

You and your crew could enjoy a rabbit barbecue immediately following the filming and we can all have a slumber party here in my house: www.our-craftsman-home-restoration.com

Or you tell me where to show up, and I'll show up in my best hunting gear, which may still have the shopping tags on it.

In the meantime, I'll be sure to send you the book I'm working on or I'll bring it with my hunting gear.

Sincerely,

Amanda Rose, your long-time fan

"Hey Mandy, I was cleaning the yard and found a depression-buster food. I think you should cook it up and eat it for dinner," said my mom who read my website and responded to the challenge.

Who knows what killed Mr. Tarantula. My mom found him (or her) as she was raking leaves outside. He (or she) has been dead for a while.

The season is coming to an end here where you see tarantula's crossing the road, apparently roaming and looking for mates. My mom suggested that some of its relatives were depression buster road kill.

Things get interesting sometimes when you live with your mother who still calls you by your childhood name.

The day of the tarantula's arrival was also the day when conversation degenerated around here as we played the game "would you rather?" This teenage game takes on a Fear Factor-like quality when you are discussing what might or might not be depression-busting food.

It turns out that everyone in this household would rather eat a tarantula than a housefly. How about you? My choice was a tarantula casserole, perhaps quiche-like. But then I'm inclined to hide just about anything in quiche. So far I haven't hidden anything quite so hairy.

Keep in mind, you would have to eat 100 grams of either, not just one housefly versus one tarantula.

This blog would not be nearly as much fun to maintain without people and events that make me laugh. I admit in advance that some of this isn’t necessarily funny to everyone reading this blog. My apologies.

The Vander Eyk Once-Organic Dairy
This was one of those situations where history was being made before my eyes and it took nine years to realize it. Those black-and-white cattle grazing near my house since about 1998 belonged to the notorious and now defunct Vander Eyk Organic Dairy. When its decertification was made public in June, I was actually planning a flight over the pasture areas. An organic farmer agreed to pilot, a San Francisco Chronicle reporter agreed to cover the story. This “cow census” that never was is perhaps why this blog slowed down in May. If you have managed to miss the video eulogy to the dairy, you should take a look at it now.

Lessons:

• Look around. You never know what might be there.
  
• When you find it, make an event of it.
  
• Get a good video camera if you are going to make a video. (For the record, I intended to rent a very good one for the exposé that never was.)
  

Alex Avery

Be careful what you promise or you could end up with a long list of stories never told. Such is the case on the Rebuild blog where I left many readers hanging by a nail on some very important issues. I am sorry for any sleep lost out there. These are real nail-biters.

The Book

“Where is that thing anyway?” Good question. These things take a ridiculous amount of time to produce well. I will offer a combination digital and print book package soon. You’ll receive the digital copy immediately and the print book as a bonus when it comes back from the printer. Look for details by the end of January.

Mom’s videos

They came out of the gate strong during the summer and just disappeared. We got great feedback on the videos but we got a number of comments about the volume. The volume and picture quality of the food videos plus the video quality on the organic dairy eulogy inspired us to buy a new camera. The problem was that the new camera required using iMovie08 instead of the previous version. iMovie08 is a whole other critter, so the video production got further and further behind. Finally I got the bright idea to outsource the project to a documentarian friend of ours. Expect new food videos this month.

Henny the Huge

Monday was Mercury’s birthday. I apologize for not publicizing the birthday in advance but its birthday was only determined Monday morning.

My son Frederick loves birthdays and is into astronomy lately. We were learning about the sun’s age – when it was born, when it will blow up and turn into a nebula, and all of those details that inspire little boys. I made a big push for celebrating the sun’s birthday.

“No one ever remembers the sun’s birthday,” I pronounced (all the while thinking that pagans are likely a major exception in some way or other). “We should have a birthday party for the sun!”

Frederick paused and said, “Mama, we need to have a birthday party for Mercury.”

I looked at him for just a moment wondering what crazy idea he had. His line of thinking dawned on me and I laughed in big belly laughs.

Back in March I retold the first "annual" celebration of Mercury's birthday. (Yes, that's Mercury the planet and, no, this is not a pagan ritual as far as I know.) My son Frederick, always in search of birthdays since they tend to come with cake and ice cream, decided to celebrate Mercury's birthday. Conveniently, Mercury orbits the sun every 88 days and, thus, requires more birthday celebrations than the rest of us.

Our first celebration of Mercury's birthday found us secretly ribbing Postmaster Dean using the community's "Burma Shave signs," signs usually dedicated to announcing events such as a community dinner. We flew remote control airplanes at the local school and ended our day at a cowboy bar eating dollar tacos and telling the cowboys about our birthday celebration. It may have been the first time I have seen my father embarrassed.

On the schedule for the second annual celebration is an ice cream give-away at the post office at about 11:30 tomorrow (Friday). Everyone in the community picks up their mail and loiters around at that time. It is the perfect opportunity to spread the word about the birthday celebration. Word spreads pretty easily up here, by the way. To let everyone know you're pregnant, you can either post something on the Burma Shave signs (which frankly I hadn't considered and now I find myself a bit disappointed that I missed an opportunity) or just tell someone at a local bar.

All of this is to say that if you don't do something fun and quirky this week in honor of Mercury's birthday, you are missing out.