nakedjen

Surely Won't Get Invited For A Doggy Playdate Now

As we all know I am not the only blogger in Salt Lake.  There are lots of us.  In fact, the blogging community of Salt Lake has done a really good job of making me feel really welcome here and right at home!

Before I moved here in January, I was told by more than a few people whom are mutual friends of mine and hers that I should definitely let Heather know I was moving here and that if nothing else perhaps we could take the dogs to the dog park together.

I will admit that I have been reading Heather's blog since before Leta was born and have written to her on many occasions especially when she's been seeking advice for her constipation.  I have some great holistic advice for that, so I thought I'd try to help.  Buddha and Stella have also sent Chuck some organic dog treats.  Just because. 

And I've also written about Heather on this blog because I've had some pretty freaky dreams about being Leta's nanny.  So, it doesn't surprise me, actually, that I've never received any response from her at all.  She probably thinks I'm a total freak.  She is a former Mormon and I'm a NAKED person.  Despite the FORMER part of being Mormon, she's still been a Mormon and I have a feeling that all my NAKEDNESS might be a bit much for her.  She's probably worried that if she has me over to the house, I'll whip out my boobs and Jon might decide that having more than one wife is not such a bad idea after all! 

Of course, Buddha and Stella were sad that they didn't get a thanks from Chuck for the cookies, but we all know that Chuck is a very important dog with very important duties as the Top Dog in the Blurbodoocery and I'm sure it was just an oversight.  At least that is what I told them.

Anyway, this weekend for those of you in the blogosphere who are not paying attention, was Blogher.  Which is a blogging conference for women that really is more about making sure you have the right high heels and your eyebrows waxed and meeting all the people whose blogs you read IN REAL LIFE than it is about anything else.  No, really, it is. 

One of my favorite new bloggers is there.  And as you can see, if you read that post, she referred to Heather as a mythical character.  Like Jesus!  Or Santa Claus!  Or a Hobbit!!  I heard that Heather didn't like this.  And said so during the closing Keynote at Blogher. 

And that Jenny, because she is a BadAssJenny (we do rule the UNIVERSE, you know) got up and actually addressed her directly!  To say, "Um excuse me, I love you.  I even bought your fucking book!"  But in response received a not so happy look from Heather.

So, I just have this to say.  Since I'm not there.  And Heather doesn't return my calls anyway. 

Heather, please.  You are adored and revered by the entire Internet and BEYOND.  You really are like Jesus.  For those of us with our lowly blogs who just plug along waiting for anyone to stumble upon us, you, Heather, are the Angel Moroni blowing your own trumpet high on top of the temple. 

The rest of us are never going to get there. 

Relax, Heather.  Enjoy it up there on top of the mountain.  The rest of us are not trying to steal your magic ring and we're not trying to knock you off the chimney.  We're just hoping you're not going to put coal in our stockings.  Okay? 

What I Miss MOST About Living In Santa Cruz

I promise, Gromit, that I haven't changed.  All that much.  But the nudity laws in Salt Lake are much more prudish and strict than the nudity laws in Santa Cruz. 

To wit, this article.

While the woman drew the attention of many, Wallace Baine said, "People were surprisingly blasé about it. People were giving her space. I don't think anyone wanted to confront her."

However, a man sitting on a bench at Cathcart and Pacific reached out and kissed her hand, to which she replied "thank you."

I walked down Pacific Avenue naked myself more than once.  And we all know I walked around my own neighborhood which was just two blocks off Pacific Avenue without nary a care naked all the time. 

Here?  I have ventured next door.  And I caused the neighbors to abandon their home and move far, far away! 

I am determined, however, to change things around here.  To walk naked down the street and have folks realize that it isn't a big deal.  To sit at my favorite cafe, sip a latte and not have anyone even notice.

Really, I am.  It's just taking me a while to figure it all out.  Because I don't enjoy jail cells. 

And unlike my beloved police in Santa Cruz who are going to just smile and nod and keep riding their bicycles, I think the police here are going to cart me off to jail. 

So, I'm working on it. 

But in the meantime, I am still naked.  Just being a tad more discreet. 

Play Dead

We're still sticking to our efforts to be healthy around here.  I must say that the dogs are WORN OUT from all the walking.  No, seriously.  They spend the rest of the day like they're taking very strict classes with Lee Strasberg at the Actor's Studio in playing DEAD.  We walk in the door, they eat their breakfast and then each assumes the DEAD DOG position and neither moves until about 6:00 p.m. when one or the other of them will lift a head to assure me that they are, in fact, still alive and raise an eyebrow (but nothing more) to inquire about an evening walk and dinner?

I know part of this is because it is so bloody hot here.  Not just hot.  Bloody hot.  I know there are some people who believe that it is not hot in Utah.  That it is pleasant.  That this weather is far preferable to the freezing temperatures we experience for most of the year when that white stuff falls randomly and without rhyme or reason from the sky, but for me, the Coastal California girl, this is BLOODY HOT.  I get sticky and feel as if my skin is melting right off my own face.

So, while I sit here with my skin making a pool on the floor around my DEAD DOGS, I contemplate eating a more healthy diet.  If I'm going to have my skin melting off my body, it can at least be healthy skin, right?

Of course now that I've said that, I'm going to share a recipe that isn't actually all that healthy.  However, I was craving something sweet.  And I was inspired by this recipe.  Actually, I'm often very inspired by quite a lot on that website and highly recommend that you mark it among your own favorites if you cook even somewhat regularly. 

The other day I went to my "secret store" and scored 2 pints of organic raspberries for just $2.  Yes, you read that correctly.  I also got 4 pounds of organic watermelon for $1.  Yes, again, you read that correctly.  We're so lucky to have the secret store here in Salt Lake City.  Of course next week I won't be able to get raspberries or watermelon, but there will be OTHER things that are just as good. 

I wanted to make something yummy with those raspberries.  And that recipe intrigued me.  However, I really am doing my best to eat a vegan diet these days.  And that recipe?  It is decidedly not vegan.  Butter, Eggs, Buttermilk!  All very much not part of the vegan diet.  In fact, a lot of sugar is not even vegan.

So, I made my own vegan version. 

ready to go in the oven. fresh from the oven!

I will admit that since moving to Salt Lake City, I have had to make some adjustments to my cooking, especially my pastry cooking, because of the altitude.  But I will share that this recipe turned out pretty darn tasty!  The combination of salt and sugar is really quite lovely.  And I'm so happy to have this as a morning option after walking the dogs.

They can play dead.  It just means more raspberries for me!

Story at 11:00

We'll begin our story this evening with two sisters celebrating the birth of one by sharing a lunch at a downtown mall in Salt Lake City.  Perhaps because one of those sisters happens to be Mormon and perhaps because we're actually in the Holy Land, the weather is actually cooperating today.  So much so that the birthday girl elects to eat outside on the patio.  The other sister, who has recently relocated to this hot desert locale from cool and comfortable and chic California marvels that it is actually possible to sit on the patio in the middle of the day and not melt.  And doing so she contemplates ordering a pomegranate margarita.  Because doesn't that just sound like something refreshing?  And decadent?  And something you should absolutely do when you're sitting on a patio in the middle of the desert in July? 

Why yes, it absolutely does.

However, she skips ordering the margarita.  The other Mormon sister who is celebrating her birthday doesn't drink, of course, and the other sister who is older even though she looks younger and is always asked if she is the youngest (probably because she acts like she is five most of the time) decides that she'll come back and drink on the patio another day.  With people who actually DO drink. 

Meanwhile, the NakedSister shares with the NeverNakedSister how nice it is to be celebrating her birthday with her and how far they both have come from those days when they committed such horrific and horrible crimes against one another and truly tried to kill one another.  It's a wonder, really, that they both survived.  Thank goddess for the Mormon Church and boarding schools.  Otherwise, who knows what might have happened?  It's really even better than that stuff they show on NBC these days, don't you think, asks the NakedSister?  You know when they're trying to catch the predator or tell the murder mystery?  The NeverNakedSister concurs and wonders just how much I'd ever tell if I ever did have my own television show?

The food arrives and the NeverNakedSister comments that the NakedSister can't possibly share hers because it has avocado on it.  But oh how delicious it is, she remarks.  So good.

And then just as the NakedSister is about to take another bite of her food, the NeverNakedSister notices that there is a big fat piece of avocado on her plate.  Deadly avocado.  For the NakedSister, that is.

The NeverNakedSister demands from the NakedSister to know if she KNEW she was eating avocado?  The NakedSister says she was sure her entree didn't have avocado, it was NOT listed in the ingredients on the menu, but that her chest is getting quite tight and she wondered why she was having an anxiety attack and thought it might have been because they had been talking about the architect?! 

The NeverNakedSister calls over the waiter.  "Is there avocado in that dish?"  He affirms that there is and then when he learns that the NakedSister is DEATHLY ALLERGIC to avocado tells her, "Well, you should have said something!"   Like the NakedSister pronounces her food allergies and preferences before dining in all establishments.  (Those of you whom have dined with the NakedSister can stop laughing now.  She can hear you!). 

The NeverNakedSister looks exasperatedly at the NakedSister and says, "Jennifer, it is always something with you.  Every.single.day.  Other people, once in a while.  You, every day.  You ARE like a television show.  I don't know how you live your life?!?!  It's supposed to be my birthday.  Today is supposed to be ABOUT ME.  But of course it is not.  It's ALL ABOUT YOU!"

As if I purposely had ordered the dish with the avocado so I could die a painful death of suffocation at the feet of my NeverNakedSister on a patio in July in this Holy City.  Without the aid of a margarita.  On her birthday!  I mean really?!

With my throat swelling, I swig as much water as possible (to try and dilute the avocado effect) and tell her that I promise I will suck it up and not ruin her birthday!  She wants to know how she is supposed to tell if I am dying?  I tell her that if I suddenly collapse that might be a good indication and to please call 911.  She wants to know what I've done for this in the past?  I tell her I've always just gone directly to the ER. 

We actually laugh at that point because she has no intention of spending her birthday at the ER.  Absolutely none.  So she tells me I need to keep breathing.  Please.  Just keep breathing.

Which is exactly what I did.  I kept breathing and breathing and breathing still.

Mabel

I think every person who has read even a small part of this blog even for a short time knows how I feel about dogs. 

There is a very special dog in St. Louis that has been loved for and cared for by some incredibly generous and loving souls.  That's actually putting it mildly. 

Mabel is a dog with a heart as large as Buddha and Stella and Clyde's all put together.  She hasn't had an easy time of it on this planet so far. However, I have every reason to believe that there is a very special human being on this planet who has been waiting for Mabel to carry his or her heart gently on her four paws.

You can read Mabel's incredible story here.  Love, lots and lots of generous love, has gotten her this far.

Now all she needs is your love to bring her home. 

Killer At Large

Last night I had the pleasure of seeing this hot new documentary that was actually made by these filmmakers who live right here in Salt Lake City!  Killer At Large is about the biggest threat to Americans.  It isn't Osama Bin Laden, people.  Or terrorists.  It is ourselves.  And Obesity!

We are overeating.  And it's not just that we're overeating.  It is that the food that we're eating has absolutely no nutritional value what so ever.  I know that there are many of you out there who are doing your best to eat a whole foods organic diet.  I applaud all of you.  No, seriously.  I'm standing on my tippy toes and applauding loudly.  Eating a locally grown mostly organic diet (because I know it is very difficult to eat a 100% organic diet...I'm trying) of whole foods is absolutely something that should be cheered. 

Our grocery store shelves are overflowing these days with foods that our great-great grandmothers would never even recognize as food.  I have a hint for you:  If there's a label smacked on the outside that says "healthy" it most likely is not.  Real food doesn't need a label to tell you that it is real, healthy, or fortified.  Because it just is!

We also need to avoid food products that contain ingredients that we are unable to pronounce.  There's a reason we can't pronounce them.  Because they're manufactured.  If they come from a factory, it's pretty likely our body can't recognize them or process them either.  And high-fructose corn syrup is going to kill all of us.  So avoid it.  Please.  I will find and share with you, soon, some very eye-opening statistics about what corn is doing to our planet.  It's becoming one of my new causes.  But in the meantime, please just say no to corn!

The easiest way to avoid these additives and preservatives and processed foods is to avoid the supermarket all together.  It is summertime.  Get out and explore your local farmers markets!  Or join a CSA.  Community supported agriculture helps support your community, the environment and your family!

Spend more on organics, but eat less.  Those ten for a dollar Twinkies may seem like a deal, but at what nutritional value and at what health cost for your children?  Buy them the organic fruit.  It will fill them up and they will not have the allergies from the Genetically modified corn fillers that are present in so many foods!

Finally, eat a variety of plants and vegetables and make sure you're eating the dark and leafy greens.  They're highly nutritious.  Scientists can't even yet explain why.  But do we need nutritional science to explain to us WHAT TO EAT?  I mean, seriously?  We should eat the good things that are grown in the earth.  Not the things that are genetically manufactured in a plant and shipped to us on a truck that never expire sitting on a shelf until the year 2025.  That is not food.  That is an experiment that none of us should be willing to make with the one and only body that we have!

Go see Killer at Large if it comes to a festival near you.  I am pushing to have this movie shown at every school as part of the required curriculum for health class.  Why?  Because I believe that it is our children who we can educate to make a change in eating for healthier planet.  If we can get them to actually demand a healthier school lunch, it will happen. 

One organic beet green at a time.

It's A Small White Suburban World

After walking the dogs this morning, we all ended up at the Coffee Garden for some much needed coffee.  I will share that I chose this neighborhood rather carefully when I moved to Salt Lake City because I didn't want to also suffer grand culture shock on top of suffering from divorce brain and the terrible shock of leaving my beloved Santa Cruz. 

The 9th and 9th neighborhood felt from a distance for hundreds of miles away like it might just be okay.  It was accessible.  It had funky Victorian homes and bungalows.  It had an old movie theatre.  It had a coffee shop that served fair trade organic coffee.  It had one of the city's best veterinarians for the dogs, a dog park, a fresh foods market, and it was FUNKY.  All good things.

While sitting at the Coffee Garden on the patio this morning drinking my coffee I was joined by four other people.  All sitting at various other tables.  None of us were sitting together.  All of us drinking our own fair trade organic coffee.  All of us were from Santa Cruz.

Yes, that's right.  All five of us were transplants from Santa Cruz.  Sitting in Salt Lake.  Drinking organic coffee.   

None of us knew each other in Santa Cruz.  In fact, none of us had met before today.  But all of us moved here for the same reason.  Because it is cheaper!  And all of us chose this neighborhood for the same reason.  Because it felt like home.  I'll also mention that all of us don't have "day jobs".  That there was a reason we were all sitting there at 9:30 a.m. on a Wednesday enjoying the morning and our coffee and the conversation without a worry as to where we needed to be.  I venture that had we been in Santa Cruz, we'd all have been doing the exact same thing this morning at Lulu's.  Those Santa Cruz habits die hard! 

Welcome to Salt Lake City.  Where the funk is still funky, the coffee is organic, and the person sitting next to you just might be from Santa Cruz. 

They Love Us Best

i had a small glimmer of hope today that i would actually be going to the fair. my sister, nevernakedbeth, said that she would go with me. she rearranged everything so that she could go. so that WE could go, more importantly.

i have, honestly, never felt so very loved in my entire life. because you have to know that thursday, the day we would leave for the fair, is her daughter, heather's, 13th birthday. which is a pretty darn significant birthday. and beth's birthday is on monday. the day we'd be making the very very very long drive back from oregon.

and yet?  she was more than willing to forget about all of that to make sure i went to the fair.  because i always go to the fair. and i shouldn't miss it this year, either. so she said we should just go! even if it's not her thing. we should just do it. get in the car and go.

as i said, i've never felt more loved. this is HUGE. especially if you knew the history between me and nevernakedbeth. we love each other fiercely now, but our childhood was marked with many years of not liking each other very much at all. in fact, we could barely tolerate each other. and love was not a word in our vocabulary.

but....

i also know that nevernakedbeth's FAMILY is very important to her. and it is heather's birthday. and her son, justin, is leaving for camp on monday. not to mention it is her own birthday on monday. i can't really ask her to abandon her own family just to accompany me to oregon so that i can not miss the fair.

the truth is, i can miss the fair. the fair can miss me. it is just one fair in a long and amazing history of fairs. there will be another fair next year. i have no idea where i will be next year, but i will absolutely plan to be in oregon on the second weekend in july. because that is where i belong. always.

this year, i will be here. celebrating family birthdays. which, quite frankly, i should be celebrating. family is important, i am learning. very important. they love us best. i may be slow to learn that lesson, but it is a lesson i am glad to finally learn.

that photo is all the cousins at the wedding.  can you believe i'm the oldest?  i am!  by a lot! 

A Fair of My Heart

I honestly do not know if I can get past the huge lump in my throat to share these words with you. 

They've been rattling around in my head, actually more in my heart, in my soul, for weeks.  Months, truthfully. 

Many of you have written to me asking if I'm going to be at the fair this year and it has pained me in ways you can not possibly imagine to even know that you feel compelled to write to me and ask.  As if there is a question as to whether or not I would be there? 

Usually on this Saturday, the Saturday before next Saturday, I am busy gathering supplies.  I am very busy dusting off my fairy wings.  I am busy making sure that we, yes WE, have all our camping gear, that we have the dog sitters secured, that Buddha and Stella have enough dog food for the duration, that we have our sleeping bags and air mattresses and air pumps and twinkling fairy lights and the costumes.  Oh, yes, the costumes.  I'm busy.  I'm making preparations.  I'm getting giddy with excitement and nearly every other breath I am shouting, "The Fair, The Fair, The Fair!!!!!" and clapping my hands and doing little dances and finding all my fairy skirts and getting more jingle bells and glitter.  Because, as we all know, the world is just a better place when you add a touch more glitter.

But this year?  This year my heart is heavy.  My fairy wings are still stuffed in a trunk.  My fairy skirts are stuffed under the fairy wings.  My fairy crown is stuffed in there, too.  There is not magic afoot.  I haven't purchased my three-day pass.  I haven't secured my camping pass.  I don't even know where my camping gear is.  If it even made it from Santa Cruz to Utah. I'm unsure what to do, quite honestly.  I believe, oh do I believe, that I belong in those woods in Veneta, winding my way on those magical paths, making mirth and mischief.  As much as I believe anything, I believe that.  We all know that if there is one religion for me in this universe, this gathering on the second weekend in July of like-minded fairy folk is IT.  That these three days along the Long Tom River sustain me like no other three days of the year.  That for the past twenty-one years, it has been those three days of music, merriment, and love, yes LOVE, that has carried me and helped me to sustain others through out the year.  I know that many of you are probably thinking, well, Nakedjen, what on earth is the issue?  Why are you not just going?

It's complicated like so many other things are complicated.  I shared the Fair, my beloved Oregon Country Fair, with David.  And in sharing it with him, I allowed myself to imbue it with perhaps even more meaning and "specialness" than it already held.  We celebrated our wedding anniversary at the Fair every year.  It was "our" celebration of us.  Just writing that sentence for you is causing me to sob. 

So I'm frightened, in a way, to go.  Which sounds positively preposterous to my logical mind.  And something even more preposterous was my suggestion to David while I was in Santa Cruz that we just go together and celebrate our anniversary!  I know, I know, totally INSANE! 

But, you see, I can't imagine going to the Fair alone.  And I can't really imagine going to the Fair with anyone OTHER than him.  And I know that sounds completely and utterly ridiculous.  It just must be too soon, right?  I am still very new at this whole divorce thing.  I am thinking that maybe next year my head and, far more importantly, my heart will feel more at peace and it will be easier to go to the Fair. 

This year, though, it just feels like one big painful experience.  To go feels painful.  To not go rips me apart. 

What say you, dear Internet?  What would you do??

Vegan Sunshine Every Day At 5:00 A.M.

On Tuesday, being the first of the month, July 1, 2008, I decided that I would begin a new fitness program.  I heard you all just snicker.  Stop it. 

What overcame me, or better yet possessed me, and caused my mind, body and soul to believe that starting a fitness program in July in Utah was a fabulous idea I have no idea?  I must, obviously, still be suffering from Divorce Brain.  Which means that ideas that are absolutely and completely insane and ridiculous to the normal person sound perfectly sane and logical to me.  You know the same ideas that cause a person who is living happily by the beach in Santa Cruz to sell all of her belongings for a quarter and move herself and her dogs 1500 miles from that same beach where she has lived for twenty years and everyone knows her name into the freezing mountains of Utah where she knows absolutely no one and it snows every single day until July when it suddenly is 105 degrees every single day even at midnight.  Yeah, those kinds of ideas.  Brilliant!!

So, still suffering from Divorce Brain, I set my alarm for 5:00 a.m. on Tuesday morning.  Yes, 5:00 a.m.  Not because I had to be at work.  Not because I had an appointment with a special hair dresser for a special photo shoot.  Not because I absolutely MUST see the sun rise.  Oh no.  Because, as I mentioned, I'm clearly not okay. 

The alarm went off.  Buddha opened one eye, gave me a look like, "You've got to be kidding me?", sighed heavily, actually rolled over and went back to sleep.  His sister, Stella, on the other hand, took the alarm as an opportunity to jump on my head.  Literally.  And then drop a very slimy tennis ball right on my face.  It's her way of saying "Good Morning!"  She then, because she can, licked me.  All over.  Oh yes, if the tongue bath of an over-enthusiastic labrador won't get you out of bed, nothing will.  Trust me.

Even though the thermometer outside was already registering 89 degrees (at 5:00 freaking a.m.!!) I decided that because I was in Utah and not in Santa Cruz I needed to actually put some clothes on for this little adventure.  I wanted to just walk out of the house naked.  You all know that I did.  But I figured that was surely going to get me entered into a fitness program of an entirely different nature and I had just paid my rent for this house and actually would like to keep occupying it for the month of July even if the painter hasn't showed up like he promised and I still have holes in the floors and paint chipping from the ceiling (that's for another blog post entirely!). 

I got dressed.  As I mentioned.  And I walked/ran/walked/huffed/walked/ran/jogged/threw tennis balls/swam/walked/jogged/huffed/puffed/sweat my boobs off/walked some more/jogged a few more steps for 12.6 miles.  Up hills.  Down hills.  I wore those puppies out.  Oh and the dogs, too. 

And then, because I clearly am not right in the head, after I got home, I went to yoga.  Because, well, I'm starting this fitness program.  I did mention that.  I realized that I haven't been doing enough yoga lately.  I need to do more.  It is what keeps me grounded.  Or at least one foot on the ground.  And helps me to control my seizures.  They're not so under control these days.  So it's back to a regular practice I go. 

I also have decided that I will eliminate ALL SUGAR from my diet.  Well, let me clarify.  Fruit has sugar and I'm not eliminating that.  What I mean is all added processed sugars.  I always try to do that, but I've gotten particularly bad about it lately.  Especially with the traveling I've been doing.  Wedding Cake!  Cookies!  Birthday celebrations!  It becomes one big Slip N Slide down the mountain until it's like all you're eating is SUGAR.

So, if you're still reading, you might be interested to know, that I'm on day 3 of this insanity.  This morning I didn't even need the alarm at 5:00 a.m. because Buddha and Stella woke me up at 4:50 a.m.  Stella jumped on my head.  Buddha gave me kisses.  It was still hot as Hades.  We still did our 12.6 miles.  I'm still going to yoga later today. 

For breakfast, I've made myself some tasty vegan organic goodness.  I'm actually going to share the recipe with all of you because in my effort to be healthier, I think you might want to be healthier, as well.  I literally threw this together with things in my house.  I will share that you really do want to use canned pineapple instead of fresh pineapple because the enzymes in fresh pineapple are going to mess up the cooking process.  Also, I used all organic ingredients, but you do not have to.  I'm just really picky about that.  And I live in Utah (I keep reminding all of you of that, I know) so my breads don't rise as much as yours might if you're baking at a lower altitude. 

I will share that some nuts added to this (like walnuts or pecans) might make it even more tasty.  I just didn't have any on hand.  Or some flax seed!  Seriously, use your imagination.  The best part is that the fruit and coconut give it enough sweetness that you don't miss the "sugar" at all. 

Vegan Pineapple Nectarine Coconut Morning Bread

1/2 cup organic soy yogurt
1/2 cup organic rice milk (or soy or almond milk)
4 tablespoons organic coconut flakes
1/4 cup organic canola oil
1/2 cup organic crushed pineapple, well drained (use canned only)
1/3 cup organic pineapple juice (from crushed pineapple)
1 chopped organic medium/large nectarine (you can leave the skin on)
1 tablespoon organic orange zest
1 1/3 cups organic oat flour or other pastry flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking powder
1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 tablespoon freshly grated ginger
1 teaspoon cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon salt

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit  and lightly grease two non-stick bread pans. 

In a large bowl, whisk together the yogurt, milk, and coconut.  Whisk in the canola oil. 
Squeeze the crushed pineapple to remove as much excess juice as possible and add to the bowl along with the reserved pineapple juice, nectarine, orange zest and thoroughly mix.  Gently mix in the grated ginger.  Sift together the remaining dry ingredients and then stir in only just enough to moisten the dry ingredients. 

Pour into the two bread pans, splitting the batter evenly.  This batter is chunky and it doesn't rise very much.  Bake for 30 minutes.  Allow to cool for 5 minutes and then remove from the bread pans to continue cooling.

Enjoy!

I'm going to be making more yummy things in my effort to be healthy this month. As I do, I'll share the recipes here with you. I'm trying to do this for 30 days. If I can do it for 30 days, perhaps it will become a habit. At least that's what I've been told. Time will tell.