Yesterday J and I went to the doctor's office to have a ultrasound to find out the sex of the baby. It had been almost 8 weeks since my last ultrasound. Because I have not felt roo moving around yet in the womb, it is reassuring and amazing to see the little one on a screen floating around inside of me.
We get to the office and Julie calls us back and says that she will be doing our ultrasound. Once I am undressed and laying on the table, Julie squeezes some warm gel-like substance onto my belly. Then she gets the magic wand out and starts rubbing it along my stomach. Immediately roo comes into view. There are moments when you are looking at the image of the baby on the screen when you know what you are looking at. Oh that is their profile, there goes a hand, there is the spine. But other times it looks like you are looking at some strange moving virus under a microscope.
After checking the four chambers of the heart, the length of the arms and legs, and the bladder (which took a while for Julie to find because apparently the baby had just peed so when the bladder is empty it is very difficult to see) Julie asked us the question we had been speculating about for the last 5 months.
Julie: Well do you have any ideas of what the baby might be?
Me: No not really.
I say this, but in all honesty, the only item I have purchased for roo is a pair of super cute striped baby legs that I was storing in my bedside table. When I had tried to explain this item to some friends of ours, they were convinced that I had purchased a pair of thigh high stockings for the little one. When I showed J the baby legs, his only response was that our son wouldn't be wearing leg warmers. Of course, I had not bought them for a son.
J's response to Julie: I think it's a boy.
Julie: Well you're right.
I struggle to get a better look at what is making Julie so sure that our den will soon be full of trains and trucks versus baby dolls.
Me: Are you sure?
Julie: Honey I'm so sure, if I'm wrong, I will personally come to your house and repaint your nursery.
Me: I won't forget you said that.
I get off the table, rub the now cold goop from my belly, and get dressed. J and I are both giddy, grinning from ear to ear thinking of what it will be like to have a son. As we leave the office Julie hands us a VHS tape and pictures from the ultrasound. Later at work as I am going through the pictures, I finally see what made Julie so sure of herself. One of the pictures, which has the word boy written on it, with an arrow pointing directly at his penis is clear as day.
When I call my Mom to tell her the news, she is ecstatic and we are both giggling silly when she says
Mom: Well we need more good men in the world.
My side of the family is mostly women. This will be new territory for us and we couldn't be happier.
Saturday, December 1, 2007
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
2 + 1 = 3
Over the past few weeks I keep having the same dream.
It starts out normal enough. J and I are hanging around the house when the UPS truck stops at the end of the driveway. We watch as the UPS man unloads a LARGE wooden box and rolls it up the driveway. We go to the back door to see what it is and he asks for our signature, which he tells us is necessary when delivering a live animal.
Me: What kind of live animal?
UPS man, just as calm as can be: A kangaroo.
Me: A baby kangaroo? (Because in my dream for some reason this seems logical)
UPS man: No. A full grown kangaroo.
As he walks off down the driveway J and I stare at the box and back at each other. We struggle getting the box in the house because what else can you do when a kangaroo arrives on your doorstep? I take a peep in one of the air holes but it is too dark to see anything.
We decide to open the box to get a better look and see if this is just a big joke. Once we get the box open we see a full grown kangaroo looking back at us. Slowly the kangaroo steps out into our house. He or she, I do not know the animal that well yet, heads to a corner of the room where it calmly looks around.
Immediately all kinds of thoughts rush through my mind.
How will the kangaroo hop when we live in a ranch house with low ceilings?
What does a kangaroo eat?
When and how does it sleep?
I am quite certain our pet sitter, will draw the line at caring for two cats and a kangaroo.
With all these questions running through my head, I start to panic. And like most dreams when things get uncomfortable, I wake myself up.
So later at work I Google kangaroos and dreams. From the Dreammoods Dictionary, it says, “To see a kangaroo in your dreams, refers to maternal and paternal protection. You may be expressing your nurturing and mothering nature.”
Google never ceases to amaze and inform me. Of course there were other interpretations referencing a kangaroo showing up in your dreams, but they were not as applicable as that one. Dream interpretations are like reading your horoscope. Just pick the one that suits you.
I do hope I am expressing and exploring my nurturing nature, since we have a “roo” of our own on the way. I am 18 weeks pregnant and totally consumed with all sorts of questions of what the future holds.
It starts out normal enough. J and I are hanging around the house when the UPS truck stops at the end of the driveway. We watch as the UPS man unloads a LARGE wooden box and rolls it up the driveway. We go to the back door to see what it is and he asks for our signature, which he tells us is necessary when delivering a live animal.
Me: What kind of live animal?
UPS man, just as calm as can be: A kangaroo.
Me: A baby kangaroo? (Because in my dream for some reason this seems logical)
UPS man: No. A full grown kangaroo.
As he walks off down the driveway J and I stare at the box and back at each other. We struggle getting the box in the house because what else can you do when a kangaroo arrives on your doorstep? I take a peep in one of the air holes but it is too dark to see anything.
We decide to open the box to get a better look and see if this is just a big joke. Once we get the box open we see a full grown kangaroo looking back at us. Slowly the kangaroo steps out into our house. He or she, I do not know the animal that well yet, heads to a corner of the room where it calmly looks around.
Immediately all kinds of thoughts rush through my mind.
How will the kangaroo hop when we live in a ranch house with low ceilings?
What does a kangaroo eat?
When and how does it sleep?
I am quite certain our pet sitter, will draw the line at caring for two cats and a kangaroo.
With all these questions running through my head, I start to panic. And like most dreams when things get uncomfortable, I wake myself up.
So later at work I Google kangaroos and dreams. From the Dreammoods Dictionary, it says, “To see a kangaroo in your dreams, refers to maternal and paternal protection. You may be expressing your nurturing and mothering nature.”
Google never ceases to amaze and inform me. Of course there were other interpretations referencing a kangaroo showing up in your dreams, but they were not as applicable as that one. Dream interpretations are like reading your horoscope. Just pick the one that suits you.
I do hope I am expressing and exploring my nurturing nature, since we have a “roo” of our own on the way. I am 18 weeks pregnant and totally consumed with all sorts of questions of what the future holds.
Sunday, November 4, 2007
Triple Word Score
Thanks to velocibadgergirl I have a fun meme that involves words. Which is great, because it reminds me of one of my favorite board games Scrabble.
If you want to play, list a word that describes you from each letter of the alphabet with as much or as little additional information as you wish. As velocibadgergirl says, keep it positive.
A Active
B Bleeding heart
C Compassionate
D Dancer (as a kid I took dance classes for many years)
E Excited
F Funny (at least I like to think so)
G Green thumb
H Hopeful for the future
I Impatient
J Jovial
K Kind
L (good) Listener
M Mischievous
N Nesting
O Overly excited
P Playful
Q Quick witted
R Restless
S Southerner
T Tolerant
U Understanding
V Vocal
W Water Sign (Cancer)
X eXtrovert
Y Yodeling (makes me laugh)
Z Zipper free (currently none of my pants have them)
I know some of these are a stretch...
We have friends coming for Sunday lunch. Chili, beer and cheesy appetizers while watching football. Happy Fall all and don't forget to set your clocks back.
If you want to play, list a word that describes you from each letter of the alphabet with as much or as little additional information as you wish. As velocibadgergirl says, keep it positive.
A Active
B Bleeding heart
C Compassionate
D Dancer (as a kid I took dance classes for many years)
E Excited
F Funny (at least I like to think so)
G Green thumb
H Hopeful for the future
I Impatient
J Jovial
K Kind
L (good) Listener
M Mischievous
N Nesting
O Overly excited
P Playful
Q Quick witted
R Restless
S Southerner
T Tolerant
U Understanding
V Vocal
W Water Sign (Cancer)
X eXtrovert
Y Yodeling (makes me laugh)
Z Zipper free (currently none of my pants have them)
I know some of these are a stretch...
We have friends coming for Sunday lunch. Chili, beer and cheesy appetizers while watching football. Happy Fall all and don't forget to set your clocks back.
Saturday, October 13, 2007
Breasts, Not For Public Consumption
On Columbus Day J and I had the day off. (I would like to thank my place of employment for acknowledging "Bankers Holidays" though we are not a bank).
J knew I would be tempted to spend the bulk of the day running errands, since I am behind on everything domestic with all my recent work travels, but he put his foot down and said we had to do something fun. This is one of the reasons I married this man.
So we headed to the Nashville Zoo. The zoo is only a few minutes from our neighborhood and when the planes from the airport aren't flying over and it's quiet, we can hear the monkeys hooting and hollering from our backyard.
J and I have been going to the Nashville Zoo for years, so we have seen a lot of improvements. On our first visit eight or nine years ago, I was appalled when we got to the elephant habitat and kids could pay a fee to ride the elephants. The elephants looked so bored and defeated, as one kid after the next jumped on their back and they walked round and round a tiny metal contraption they were tied too. Natural habitat, my ass.
But now the elephants have an elephant sanctuary, with a large grassland to roam, a pond to swim in, and all three of them look much happier. No I am not an elephant whisperer, but they really do look content and at home.
One of my personal favorite animals to visit are the monkeys. And judging by the crowd, I am not the only one. There are three monkeys. I am not sure if they are male or female, but they are always moving. Swinging from one branch to the next and then looking at you like "what are you looking at". Hilarious.
There is one monkey that always has a yellow plastic duckie. No matter whether he is swinging through the trees or hanging upside down, he never drops the duck. He moves it around, holding it in his mouth, his feet, his hands, depending on which part he needs to get himself where he is going. It is obviously his favorite toy or security blanket and for some reason that is so damn touching to me.
There is also a meerkat habitat that is neat to check out. These animals have so much expression and are super playful, so it is always entertaining to see what they are up to.
On this particular day in October, it was still hotter than hell and about halfway through I started dreaming of a bowl of dippin dots or ice cream, so we found the nearest concession stand. Sitting there at tables full of kids with their parents or grandparents we eavesdropped on the conversations. Not being a parent myself I am probably not the best judge, but adults say some stupid shit to kids. No wonder kids look at them like they're idiots and the cycle continues.
At the table beside us, a little boy about 5 or 6 years old sat with his grandparents enjoying his cup of ice cream. When the little boy would look done eating the ice cream, the grandfather would chime in, "you know once that ice cream is in the garbage you can't get it back out"? The boy would look up at his grandmother, hoping she would chime in with "shut your trap, if he says he is done, he is done", but all he got was silence. So he would eat a few more bites, in hopes that would be good enough. And we wonder why kids are overweight today. Could be due to all the crotchety grandparents that want to make sure they get all the bang for their $3.00.
After we finished our ice cream we headed off. At some of the animal exhibits the zoo has built little enclosures where you can walk into a covered area with seating and ceiling fans, to view the animals through a glass window. When it is hot outside these places are really nice.
As J and I walked in the Cloudy Leopard enclosure there was a woman sitting on the bench in the far corner with a toddler and a newborn. My first thought was, wow this woman must be super woman to be out here by herself with a toddler and a brand new red faced baby. After further inspection of the situation, I realized we had interrupted her nursing and she was hastily trying to put away all the public breast feeding evidence.
I wanted to say "really go ahead we don't mind". America your uptight attitudes to public breast feeding is total bullshit. We use breasts to sell everything in this country. And I mean everything. But a woman in who is trying to feed her newborn out in public should be ashamed and quickly cover-up. I do not understand this Victorian mind-set and I never will.
J knew I would be tempted to spend the bulk of the day running errands, since I am behind on everything domestic with all my recent work travels, but he put his foot down and said we had to do something fun. This is one of the reasons I married this man.
So we headed to the Nashville Zoo. The zoo is only a few minutes from our neighborhood and when the planes from the airport aren't flying over and it's quiet, we can hear the monkeys hooting and hollering from our backyard.
J and I have been going to the Nashville Zoo for years, so we have seen a lot of improvements. On our first visit eight or nine years ago, I was appalled when we got to the elephant habitat and kids could pay a fee to ride the elephants. The elephants looked so bored and defeated, as one kid after the next jumped on their back and they walked round and round a tiny metal contraption they were tied too. Natural habitat, my ass.
But now the elephants have an elephant sanctuary, with a large grassland to roam, a pond to swim in, and all three of them look much happier. No I am not an elephant whisperer, but they really do look content and at home.
One of my personal favorite animals to visit are the monkeys. And judging by the crowd, I am not the only one. There are three monkeys. I am not sure if they are male or female, but they are always moving. Swinging from one branch to the next and then looking at you like "what are you looking at". Hilarious.
There is one monkey that always has a yellow plastic duckie. No matter whether he is swinging through the trees or hanging upside down, he never drops the duck. He moves it around, holding it in his mouth, his feet, his hands, depending on which part he needs to get himself where he is going. It is obviously his favorite toy or security blanket and for some reason that is so damn touching to me.
There is also a meerkat habitat that is neat to check out. These animals have so much expression and are super playful, so it is always entertaining to see what they are up to.
On this particular day in October, it was still hotter than hell and about halfway through I started dreaming of a bowl of dippin dots or ice cream, so we found the nearest concession stand. Sitting there at tables full of kids with their parents or grandparents we eavesdropped on the conversations. Not being a parent myself I am probably not the best judge, but adults say some stupid shit to kids. No wonder kids look at them like they're idiots and the cycle continues.
At the table beside us, a little boy about 5 or 6 years old sat with his grandparents enjoying his cup of ice cream. When the little boy would look done eating the ice cream, the grandfather would chime in, "you know once that ice cream is in the garbage you can't get it back out"? The boy would look up at his grandmother, hoping she would chime in with "shut your trap, if he says he is done, he is done", but all he got was silence. So he would eat a few more bites, in hopes that would be good enough. And we wonder why kids are overweight today. Could be due to all the crotchety grandparents that want to make sure they get all the bang for their $3.00.
After we finished our ice cream we headed off. At some of the animal exhibits the zoo has built little enclosures where you can walk into a covered area with seating and ceiling fans, to view the animals through a glass window. When it is hot outside these places are really nice.
As J and I walked in the Cloudy Leopard enclosure there was a woman sitting on the bench in the far corner with a toddler and a newborn. My first thought was, wow this woman must be super woman to be out here by herself with a toddler and a brand new red faced baby. After further inspection of the situation, I realized we had interrupted her nursing and she was hastily trying to put away all the public breast feeding evidence.
I wanted to say "really go ahead we don't mind". America your uptight attitudes to public breast feeding is total bullshit. We use breasts to sell everything in this country. And I mean everything. But a woman in who is trying to feed her newborn out in public should be ashamed and quickly cover-up. I do not understand this Victorian mind-set and I never will.
Thursday, September 27, 2007
I have finally gotten my lazy ass off the couch. Hopefully the hibernation is over.
I know by this point, all two of my readers have abandoned me and for good reason. I have been lazy and uninspired. The last few months I have spent either buried in a good read (check out the new listings), watching episodes of Entourage (so sad when we finished season 3 and will have to wait for season 4 to come out on DVD) or watching movies. Anything to keep my mind off all the upcoming changes.
So bear with me. I am going to tie up some loose ends and hopefully start anew.
The Patio
J finished the patio at the end of July, just days before his 35th b-day party. There is nothing like inviting all your friends over for a get-together to get our asses in gear. In all honesty, I don't think our house has been properly scrubbed since. Must have folks over soon.
So this is for you Mom. Here is a picture of the finished product I have been meaning to post for months. I must say J did a damn good job. I would actually hire him, if he didn't work for me for free.
We actually plan on enjoying many a meal out here once the temperatures are out of the 90's and the mosquitoes leave. Hmmm...maybe by December?
Do you see that plastic thingie sticking up in the yard around the edge of the patio, to the right of the table? Here's a closer look.
This is one of many non-working mole contraptions we have purchased. I fondly refer to this little dandy as the mole vibrator. Why you might ask? Well it is shaped like a super-duper torpedo, is battery operated and apparently turns those little buggers on. Big time. Each few seconds the torpedo makes an annoying, beeping noise that is supposed to travel through the ground, drive the moles crazy and send them running to the hills.
See all that raised dirt around the mole vibrator? That represents pure, X-rated, mole bliss. I kid you not, every night those moles come back for more. We might have the most sexually satisfied moles on our street.
Taxation Without Representation
I just got back from a business trip to DC. This is the second time I have been to our nations capital this year and I must say, DC I do not blame you for all the bullshit that has gone down over the last 7 years. I also appreciate your dry sense of humor, thus the "Taxation Without Representation" slogan on your license plates.
We attended a national conference for state restaurant association executives. Because the company I work for was a sponsor, we got the added perk of meeting the two keynote speakers, Ari Fleischer and Mike McCurry, before they addressed the audience.
Fleischer, was spokesperson for George Bush from 2001-2003. McCurry, was press secretary for Bill Clinton from 1995-1998. While we were waiting for them to arrive, I kept imagining what an uncomfortable scene I was about to witness. A cold greeting, a few biting remarks about each others party, a general uncomfortableness in the room. This was going to be good.
To provide you with a little political background, I am a registered Democrat. The first president I voted for was Bill Clinton and I still continue to think of him as one of our better leaders, regardless of the "inappropriate relations with a cigar" incident. I get hot under the collar when discussing politics and I can be very closed minded when it comes to the "other" party. So I expected the men who had each dedicated their professional lives to two very different ideologies, to coldly acknowledge each other.
Surprisingly, they both entered the room at the same time, were both equally friendly to the spectators, and shared some friendly banter. You could tell they shared a history and mutual respect for one another. Not at all what I imagined.
My first thought, if our current elected officials could show this much class and diplomacy, we might be able to actually get something done in Washington. Second, I need to work on my hard line attitude that all Republicans drive big-ass gas guzzling SUV's, with yellow ribbons and W stickers on the bumper, and throw big gulps out their windows.
The next day, we walked the halls with our fellow state restaurant association as they lobbied their representatives about the most pressing issues affecting their business. We arrived early for the first appointment, so we stood outside the office passing the time. About five minutes before our appointment time, the congressman darted out of his office and we were left to meet with his staff member Bruce, who didn't even have a business card.
On our second appointment, our congressman was not in the office when we arrived. His staff member emailed him, informed us he was leaving a committee meeting, and would be with us in a few minutes. While we were waiting, I admired his photos with Isaac Hayes, Bill Clinton, Sugar Ray Leonard, and a bunch of other famous folks that I can't remember. Did I mention that he was a Democrat?
When he arrived we went into his office. Congressmen work in tight quarters. His office reminded me of my college dorm room minus a bed and a mini-fridge. His bookshelves were packed with all kinds of personal items that I wanted to check out, but thought it would be rude to peruse his books instead of paying attention to the conversation.
The issues were discussed. He said he would have his staff member review the upcoming bills. Then he moved on to what all politicians are good at, discussing themselves. Apparently, he had been invited to Iraq. My first thought, those sneaky Republicans are trying to get rid of all our Democrats. Trying to interject something into the conversation I asked,
"What will you do in Iraq?"
Delivered with a straight face, he responded
"You know, drink, do drugs, have sex, lounge on the beach. Isn't that what everyone does in Iraq?"
I smirked, we all laughed, and I realized politicians really are human. They even have a sense of humor to boot.
So bear with me. I am going to tie up some loose ends and hopefully start anew.
The Patio
J finished the patio at the end of July, just days before his 35th b-day party. There is nothing like inviting all your friends over for a get-together to get our asses in gear. In all honesty, I don't think our house has been properly scrubbed since. Must have folks over soon.
So this is for you Mom. Here is a picture of the finished product I have been meaning to post for months. I must say J did a damn good job. I would actually hire him, if he didn't work for me for free.
We actually plan on enjoying many a meal out here once the temperatures are out of the 90's and the mosquitoes leave. Hmmm...maybe by December?
Do you see that plastic thingie sticking up in the yard around the edge of the patio, to the right of the table? Here's a closer look.
This is one of many non-working mole contraptions we have purchased. I fondly refer to this little dandy as the mole vibrator. Why you might ask? Well it is shaped like a super-duper torpedo, is battery operated and apparently turns those little buggers on. Big time. Each few seconds the torpedo makes an annoying, beeping noise that is supposed to travel through the ground, drive the moles crazy and send them running to the hills.
See all that raised dirt around the mole vibrator? That represents pure, X-rated, mole bliss. I kid you not, every night those moles come back for more. We might have the most sexually satisfied moles on our street.
Taxation Without Representation
I just got back from a business trip to DC. This is the second time I have been to our nations capital this year and I must say, DC I do not blame you for all the bullshit that has gone down over the last 7 years. I also appreciate your dry sense of humor, thus the "Taxation Without Representation" slogan on your license plates.
We attended a national conference for state restaurant association executives. Because the company I work for was a sponsor, we got the added perk of meeting the two keynote speakers, Ari Fleischer and Mike McCurry, before they addressed the audience.
Fleischer, was spokesperson for George Bush from 2001-2003. McCurry, was press secretary for Bill Clinton from 1995-1998. While we were waiting for them to arrive, I kept imagining what an uncomfortable scene I was about to witness. A cold greeting, a few biting remarks about each others party, a general uncomfortableness in the room. This was going to be good.
To provide you with a little political background, I am a registered Democrat. The first president I voted for was Bill Clinton and I still continue to think of him as one of our better leaders, regardless of the "inappropriate relations with a cigar" incident. I get hot under the collar when discussing politics and I can be very closed minded when it comes to the "other" party. So I expected the men who had each dedicated their professional lives to two very different ideologies, to coldly acknowledge each other.
Surprisingly, they both entered the room at the same time, were both equally friendly to the spectators, and shared some friendly banter. You could tell they shared a history and mutual respect for one another. Not at all what I imagined.
My first thought, if our current elected officials could show this much class and diplomacy, we might be able to actually get something done in Washington. Second, I need to work on my hard line attitude that all Republicans drive big-ass gas guzzling SUV's, with yellow ribbons and W stickers on the bumper, and throw big gulps out their windows.
The next day, we walked the halls with our fellow state restaurant association as they lobbied their representatives about the most pressing issues affecting their business. We arrived early for the first appointment, so we stood outside the office passing the time. About five minutes before our appointment time, the congressman darted out of his office and we were left to meet with his staff member Bruce, who didn't even have a business card.
On our second appointment, our congressman was not in the office when we arrived. His staff member emailed him, informed us he was leaving a committee meeting, and would be with us in a few minutes. While we were waiting, I admired his photos with Isaac Hayes, Bill Clinton, Sugar Ray Leonard, and a bunch of other famous folks that I can't remember. Did I mention that he was a Democrat?
When he arrived we went into his office. Congressmen work in tight quarters. His office reminded me of my college dorm room minus a bed and a mini-fridge. His bookshelves were packed with all kinds of personal items that I wanted to check out, but thought it would be rude to peruse his books instead of paying attention to the conversation.
The issues were discussed. He said he would have his staff member review the upcoming bills. Then he moved on to what all politicians are good at, discussing themselves. Apparently, he had been invited to Iraq. My first thought, those sneaky Republicans are trying to get rid of all our Democrats. Trying to interject something into the conversation I asked,
"What will you do in Iraq?"
Delivered with a straight face, he responded
"You know, drink, do drugs, have sex, lounge on the beach. Isn't that what everyone does in Iraq?"
I smirked, we all laughed, and I realized politicians really are human. They even have a sense of humor to boot.
Wednesday, August 1, 2007
Pin Prick
Due to my natural upbringing I have always been a bit leery of going to the doctor. Don’t get me wrong, I make my annual appointments for my eyes, teeth and girlie parts, but I don’t enjoy them, and I am glad to check them off my annual “to do” list.
Amazingly in the 70’s, my small southern hometown had a health food store that is still in business today. My parents were always of the persuasion that you should try vitamins, supplements, and sweating it out (Dad’s prescription), before you resort to taking pharmaceuticals. As a kid, treats in our house consisted of carob chocolate, sliced carrots, and fruit juice frozen into plastic Popsicle containers. When spending the night at a friend’s house I would gorge myself on sodas, sweetened cereals, and greasy chips. Delicious.
As an adult, I believe that a large amount of your health and general well bring is connected to diet and exercise, but I do realize that sometimes that isn’t enough. So for the bulk of this year I have spent an absorbent amount of time in doctor’s waiting rooms, taking pills, and hoping that modern medicine would serve up a “quick-fix”. I have a better understanding of why drugs are so heavily consumed in our culture, because it takes little discipline to take a pill. As long as you can ignore the long list of side effects that are sometimes worse than what you were taking the medicine for in the first place. After months of taking the modern medicine route with no success, I have decided to go back to a more natural approach. As of June I am drug free, for the most part.
So tomorrow I have an appointment with an acupuncturist. I am anxious and excited. I went to Wikipedia to read up on the subject. There are opinions on both sides as to the effectiveness of acupuncture, but there are always two sides to every story. Honestly, I don’t love the idea of tiny stainless steel needles which resemble nails, being inserted all over my body, but I am willing to give it a shot. At least the lists of side effects are short (minor bleeding, bruising, and dizziness) and don’t include rectal bleeding.
Amazingly in the 70’s, my small southern hometown had a health food store that is still in business today. My parents were always of the persuasion that you should try vitamins, supplements, and sweating it out (Dad’s prescription), before you resort to taking pharmaceuticals. As a kid, treats in our house consisted of carob chocolate, sliced carrots, and fruit juice frozen into plastic Popsicle containers. When spending the night at a friend’s house I would gorge myself on sodas, sweetened cereals, and greasy chips. Delicious.
As an adult, I believe that a large amount of your health and general well bring is connected to diet and exercise, but I do realize that sometimes that isn’t enough. So for the bulk of this year I have spent an absorbent amount of time in doctor’s waiting rooms, taking pills, and hoping that modern medicine would serve up a “quick-fix”. I have a better understanding of why drugs are so heavily consumed in our culture, because it takes little discipline to take a pill. As long as you can ignore the long list of side effects that are sometimes worse than what you were taking the medicine for in the first place. After months of taking the modern medicine route with no success, I have decided to go back to a more natural approach. As of June I am drug free, for the most part.
So tomorrow I have an appointment with an acupuncturist. I am anxious and excited. I went to Wikipedia to read up on the subject. There are opinions on both sides as to the effectiveness of acupuncture, but there are always two sides to every story. Honestly, I don’t love the idea of tiny stainless steel needles which resemble nails, being inserted all over my body, but I am willing to give it a shot. At least the lists of side effects are short (minor bleeding, bruising, and dizziness) and don’t include rectal bleeding.
Monday, June 18, 2007
Lock your doors! Shutter your windows!
About once a month we receive an email update from our neighborhood association. They usually consist of upcoming events such as a Ladies Brunch or Mayoral Candidate's Forum, but the most recent one was titled "Crime Threat" and this is what it said.
"The "GYPSIES" are back! If you don't know who the Gypsies are, they are a group of thieves that travel to various states in the U.S. and enter homes through unlocked doors and steal jewelry and silver and immediately FEDX the stolen goods to New York City."
Now I don't know about you but this conjures up all kinds of images for me. I immediately picture a roving band of dark haired, hippie-clothes-wearing people wondering the streets of our neighborhood in their covered wagon peddling herbal remedies for your ailments, reading your palm and possibly kidnapping your youngest child.
But the email goes on to say,"A woman described as having dark hair, dark complexion, with high cheek bones, wearing a jogging-type suit will enter the home and attempt to remove jewelry or silverware. If confronted by the homeowner, the suspect will say they are looking for their dog."
their dog."
This starts out with the first image that came to my mind, but I guess a modern day gypsy has traded in the flowing skirts, tops, and headscarf for a jogging suit. Even gypsies have to get with the times.
These gypsies apparently think that my neighborhood is comprised of fools. To tell someone who has just cornered them in their home that they are looking for a lost dog. How does a lost dog get inside your home? And what about all those jewels and silverware that resembles your things or the bulging bag on their shoulder. That doesn't raise suspicion?
The email ends with this note: "The Gypsies usually work in groups of two or three. A male will drive a small rental car through the neighborhood while at least one female will walk through the neighborhood casing homes."
Hmmm well I guess a covered wagon, would draw a lot more attention than a rental car. I am not that worried about us getting a visit from these bandits. We have absolutely no silverware and the only jewelry of any value is my wedding ring which is always on my finger. But I wouldn't mind getting a glimpse of these modern day Gypsies. Apparently, fortune-telling wasn't paying the bills.
"The "GYPSIES" are back! If you don't know who the Gypsies are, they are a group of thieves that travel to various states in the U.S. and enter homes through unlocked doors and steal jewelry and silver and immediately FEDX the stolen goods to New York City."
Now I don't know about you but this conjures up all kinds of images for me. I immediately picture a roving band of dark haired, hippie-clothes-wearing people wondering the streets of our neighborhood in their covered wagon peddling herbal remedies for your ailments, reading your palm and possibly kidnapping your youngest child.
But the email goes on to say,"A woman described as having dark hair, dark complexion, with high cheek bones, wearing a jogging-type suit will enter the home and attempt to remove jewelry or silverware. If confronted by the homeowner, the suspect will say they are looking for their dog."
their dog."
This starts out with the first image that came to my mind, but I guess a modern day gypsy has traded in the flowing skirts, tops, and headscarf for a jogging suit. Even gypsies have to get with the times.
These gypsies apparently think that my neighborhood is comprised of fools. To tell someone who has just cornered them in their home that they are looking for a lost dog. How does a lost dog get inside your home? And what about all those jewels and silverware that resembles your things or the bulging bag on their shoulder. That doesn't raise suspicion?
The email ends with this note: "The Gypsies usually work in groups of two or three. A male will drive a small rental car through the neighborhood while at least one female will walk through the neighborhood casing homes."
Hmmm well I guess a covered wagon, would draw a lot more attention than a rental car. I am not that worried about us getting a visit from these bandits. We have absolutely no silverware and the only jewelry of any value is my wedding ring which is always on my finger. But I wouldn't mind getting a glimpse of these modern day Gypsies. Apparently, fortune-telling wasn't paying the bills.
Saturday, June 16, 2007
Paradise Found
So we are back from vacation. We had an amazing trip. Two weeks is the perfect amount of time to truly drop out of your day to day life and really let go, which is exactly what we did. The only downside to this? It has been extremely difficult to get back into my regular schedule. Hopefully next week I can actually get to work on time.
My biggest decisions to make while on vacation? What to eat and what level of SPF to put on for the day. Tough decisions, I know. For two weeks I didn't use a blow dryer, went make-up free, didn't look at a computer screen once, no TV except to watch movies, and waking up each day by my internal alarm clock. Boy you really cannot imagine how these little freedoms can change a person. I was about as laid back as my normally fired up self will ever get.
So back to the trip. The weather was sunny the entire time, even where my Mom lives which is rare. They can have weeks of rain in Volcano Village. To give you an idea of how dependant her neighborhood is on rain, none of the houses on this side of the island have city water, all their water is stored in catchment tanks that collect rainwater. This is fine for bathing and brushing your teeth but for drinking and cooking you have to buy purified water. She really does live in the jungle.
The first day there we dropped Mom off at work and then drove through the Volcano National Park. It doesn't matter how many times I visit I still am caught off guard by the sheer power of what an active volcano does to a landscape.
This is a shot of Halemaumau which legend says is Pele The Goddess of Fire's home.
This is a steam vent. These are located all over the park. This is an opening through which volcanic material is emitted. At some point it could have been lava or gases, but this one is now releasing steam. If you stand real close the warm moist air hits your face and you get an all natural facial.
The next day we packed up and headed for Kona. Kona is a city located on the south side of the island. It is much warmer and sunnier than the side my Mom lives on, so this is where you will find all the big resorts that people typically think of when they think of Hawaii. We stayed at a condo for three days that was right across the street from our favorite snorkel beach, Kahalulu Beach Park. This is a great place to see all kinds of amazing fish and sea turtles.
This is the view from the beach at sunset. What I wouldn't give to be living in one of those houses right on the ocean watching this sunset everyday.
The next day we drove to another beach that none of us had ever been to. A lot of the prime beaches on the Kona side are "owned" by the resorts. They legally cannot keep locals off the beaches, they're all public but they have lots of ways of making it difficult to get to the beaches if you are not paying ridiculous amounts of money to stay at their resort. Anaeho'omalu Beach (or as the locals call it ABay) was an exception to the rule. The Hilton actually has a nice large parking lot which makes it local friendly and it is a perfect beach.
After a few days in Kona we headed back to Mom's for a few days before heading off again. Her neighborhood is eclectic at best. There are all types of homes, big new homes with manicured lawns, B&B's, houses that look like someone may be squatting. Really anything goes. A few lots down from Mom is an old abandoned bus. This picture really does reflect that if you leave something here untended nature will claim it.
Next we headed down to Kapoho, where we rented the cutest house. I truly never wanted to leave.
The house sat with two neighboring houses on a natural warm pond. Located right across from the ocean, the pond is filled with fresh sea water. Even the depth of the pool would fluctuate based on the tides. In the morning it would be shallow, 4 to 5 feet deep, by the evening the water was lapping over the edge.
Hawaii is full of mongooses which remind me of ferrets. They are not native to the islands, but were brought over to help cut down the rat population, but someone didn't do their research. Mongooses move around in the day, rats at night so now the islands are overrun with both. We would sit and watch as the mongooses would walk back and forth across that bridge. Smart buggers. It really would be much longer to walk around the pond.
On Saturday Mom's girlfriends, the "tribe" as she calls them, all came down for the day. We floated around in the pond, grilled all kinds of seafood and veggies and had a fabulous time. All these women are interesting and great fun. My only regret of the trip was that I didn't take a picture of the whole group. Every night we fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing on the shore, much more relaxing than the sound of our air purifier.
We have an ongoing restaurant tradition when we visit that started when I was 20. That summer my best friend T., had come over to spend the summer with me in Hawaii. At the time Mom lived on another island Oahu in Honolulu. We flew over to the Big Island for my birthday weekend and went to the Kilauea Lodge for my 20th birthday dinner. When J. and I were visiting in 2004 we celebrated my 30th birthday dinner their as well. This trip we treated Mom to a belated Mothers Day dinner. It is the best restaurant on the island, hands down. And I do hope by some stroke of luck we will be able to ring in my 40th birthday their as well.
Needless to say, I have had a hard time being back home. Nashville has lost a bit of her luster for me, but I am sure at some point she will win me back over. I did get a walk in at Radnor Lake earlier this week which is one of my favorite places to hike. As thick and green as it was at Radnor I almost felt like I was back in Hawaii, but just almost.
My biggest decisions to make while on vacation? What to eat and what level of SPF to put on for the day. Tough decisions, I know. For two weeks I didn't use a blow dryer, went make-up free, didn't look at a computer screen once, no TV except to watch movies, and waking up each day by my internal alarm clock. Boy you really cannot imagine how these little freedoms can change a person. I was about as laid back as my normally fired up self will ever get.
So back to the trip. The weather was sunny the entire time, even where my Mom lives which is rare. They can have weeks of rain in Volcano Village. To give you an idea of how dependant her neighborhood is on rain, none of the houses on this side of the island have city water, all their water is stored in catchment tanks that collect rainwater. This is fine for bathing and brushing your teeth but for drinking and cooking you have to buy purified water. She really does live in the jungle.
The first day there we dropped Mom off at work and then drove through the Volcano National Park. It doesn't matter how many times I visit I still am caught off guard by the sheer power of what an active volcano does to a landscape.
This is a shot of Halemaumau which legend says is Pele The Goddess of Fire's home.
This is a steam vent. These are located all over the park. This is an opening through which volcanic material is emitted. At some point it could have been lava or gases, but this one is now releasing steam. If you stand real close the warm moist air hits your face and you get an all natural facial.
The next day we packed up and headed for Kona. Kona is a city located on the south side of the island. It is much warmer and sunnier than the side my Mom lives on, so this is where you will find all the big resorts that people typically think of when they think of Hawaii. We stayed at a condo for three days that was right across the street from our favorite snorkel beach, Kahalulu Beach Park. This is a great place to see all kinds of amazing fish and sea turtles.
This is the view from the beach at sunset. What I wouldn't give to be living in one of those houses right on the ocean watching this sunset everyday.
The next day we drove to another beach that none of us had ever been to. A lot of the prime beaches on the Kona side are "owned" by the resorts. They legally cannot keep locals off the beaches, they're all public but they have lots of ways of making it difficult to get to the beaches if you are not paying ridiculous amounts of money to stay at their resort. Anaeho'omalu Beach (or as the locals call it ABay) was an exception to the rule. The Hilton actually has a nice large parking lot which makes it local friendly and it is a perfect beach.
After a few days in Kona we headed back to Mom's for a few days before heading off again. Her neighborhood is eclectic at best. There are all types of homes, big new homes with manicured lawns, B&B's, houses that look like someone may be squatting. Really anything goes. A few lots down from Mom is an old abandoned bus. This picture really does reflect that if you leave something here untended nature will claim it.
Next we headed down to Kapoho, where we rented the cutest house. I truly never wanted to leave.
The house sat with two neighboring houses on a natural warm pond. Located right across from the ocean, the pond is filled with fresh sea water. Even the depth of the pool would fluctuate based on the tides. In the morning it would be shallow, 4 to 5 feet deep, by the evening the water was lapping over the edge.
Hawaii is full of mongooses which remind me of ferrets. They are not native to the islands, but were brought over to help cut down the rat population, but someone didn't do their research. Mongooses move around in the day, rats at night so now the islands are overrun with both. We would sit and watch as the mongooses would walk back and forth across that bridge. Smart buggers. It really would be much longer to walk around the pond.
On Saturday Mom's girlfriends, the "tribe" as she calls them, all came down for the day. We floated around in the pond, grilled all kinds of seafood and veggies and had a fabulous time. All these women are interesting and great fun. My only regret of the trip was that I didn't take a picture of the whole group. Every night we fell asleep to the sound of waves crashing on the shore, much more relaxing than the sound of our air purifier.
We have an ongoing restaurant tradition when we visit that started when I was 20. That summer my best friend T., had come over to spend the summer with me in Hawaii. At the time Mom lived on another island Oahu in Honolulu. We flew over to the Big Island for my birthday weekend and went to the Kilauea Lodge for my 20th birthday dinner. When J. and I were visiting in 2004 we celebrated my 30th birthday dinner their as well. This trip we treated Mom to a belated Mothers Day dinner. It is the best restaurant on the island, hands down. And I do hope by some stroke of luck we will be able to ring in my 40th birthday their as well.
Needless to say, I have had a hard time being back home. Nashville has lost a bit of her luster for me, but I am sure at some point she will win me back over. I did get a walk in at Radnor Lake earlier this week which is one of my favorite places to hike. As thick and green as it was at Radnor I almost felt like I was back in Hawaii, but just almost.
Thursday, June 7, 2007
Hawaiian Heart Ache
Oh vacations... They have always been a complete necessity in order to keep my head in a good place. A break from the day-to-day monotony is usually just what I need to jump back in to the routine of life renewed and inspired, but Hawaii has always been different than other vacations.
I was 19 the first time I went to Hawaii to see the place my Mom now called home. The first impression I had when I stepped off the plane was how different the air felt and this is still something I notice today. The air is warm, clean, and playful and smells like honeysuckle. You breathe it in and immediately slow down.
I have been going to Hawaii for many years now and I am still overwhelmed by the beauty of the island. Mother Nature rules with a mostly gentle but firm hand, and no matter how many times I visit I know I will never see everything.
The difference with Hawaii versus other vacations? Towards the end of most trips I am looking forward to being back home. I miss sleeping in our bed, petting the kitties, and the overall rhythm of our house. But no matter how long I stay in Hawaii the time always seems to go by too quickly. I start to feel anxious days before we have to leave, like I hadn't taken the time to fully absorb it all and I try my best to take in every detail. A large part of this feeling is a visit to Hawaii is more importantly time with my Mom and because this is few and far between I hold on tight.
Lying back in our bed tonight I feel out of sorts. While at Mom's I had gotten used to hearing the ferns blowing in the breeze and unknown night sounds. I know in the morning when I wake up, I won't feel the cool air and burrow down in the covers closer to J. I won't see the dancing shadows the lace curtains make on the bedspread. I won't look out the window and see the green of the jungle pressing in.
While I am in Hawaii I start to miss the things that are right in front of me. Each trip I leave a little piece of myself behind. If you held me up to the sun you would be able to see a stream of light shining through. This reminds me of something I read. In the past Native Americans would bury the umbilical cord when a child was born. This was done to ensure that the child would always be connected to its' birthplace. There are many ways to attach ourselves to a place, by leaving a bit of ourselves behind we can always feel it pulling us back.
*Stories and pictures from our trip to come.
I was 19 the first time I went to Hawaii to see the place my Mom now called home. The first impression I had when I stepped off the plane was how different the air felt and this is still something I notice today. The air is warm, clean, and playful and smells like honeysuckle. You breathe it in and immediately slow down.
I have been going to Hawaii for many years now and I am still overwhelmed by the beauty of the island. Mother Nature rules with a mostly gentle but firm hand, and no matter how many times I visit I know I will never see everything.
The difference with Hawaii versus other vacations? Towards the end of most trips I am looking forward to being back home. I miss sleeping in our bed, petting the kitties, and the overall rhythm of our house. But no matter how long I stay in Hawaii the time always seems to go by too quickly. I start to feel anxious days before we have to leave, like I hadn't taken the time to fully absorb it all and I try my best to take in every detail. A large part of this feeling is a visit to Hawaii is more importantly time with my Mom and because this is few and far between I hold on tight.
Lying back in our bed tonight I feel out of sorts. While at Mom's I had gotten used to hearing the ferns blowing in the breeze and unknown night sounds. I know in the morning when I wake up, I won't feel the cool air and burrow down in the covers closer to J. I won't see the dancing shadows the lace curtains make on the bedspread. I won't look out the window and see the green of the jungle pressing in.
While I am in Hawaii I start to miss the things that are right in front of me. Each trip I leave a little piece of myself behind. If you held me up to the sun you would be able to see a stream of light shining through. This reminds me of something I read. In the past Native Americans would bury the umbilical cord when a child was born. This was done to ensure that the child would always be connected to its' birthplace. There are many ways to attach ourselves to a place, by leaving a bit of ourselves behind we can always feel it pulling us back.
*Stories and pictures from our trip to come.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
Yea It's Thursday
Today is day 5 of ditch digging at our house and J just finished the job. It really is impressive what one man with a few basic tools can accomplish. The problem? J says that the ditch is actually one of the easier jobs in this whole process and that the hard part is still to come. Yikes.
Earth Day
This Sunday is Earth Day. We will be in Alabama visiting family and friends, but if we were in town we would head to Centennial Park for the Nashville Earth Day Festival. As anyone who isn't living under a rock or in total denial knows, the Earth at this point needs all the help from us she can get. Instead of celebrating Earth Day once a year we should all commit to do little things everyday to make the future a little brighter for the next generation. One of my New Years resolutions that I have actually kept is carrying cloth bags to the grocery. What motivated me to do this was the April issue of Real Simple magazine which said "in an average year U.S. households use about 100 billion plastic bags, 99 percent of which are never recycled. Plastic grocery sacks take between 20 and 1,000 years to break down." I admit that the first time I handed the bagger my cloth bags and they looked at me like some crazy tree hugging hippie my neck got red and splotchy, my bodily response to being embarrassed, but honestly I refuse to go through life worried about what total strangers think of me. Plus I actually feel good when I leave and my cart is full of cloth bags instead of all that plastic.
Beauty Tip
So I recently stumbled onto a great beauty find. MAC eye liner is the first eye liner I have ever used that actually stays on all day and doesn't run down my face. The one I chose is MAC Techknakohl which I admit is a bit pricier than the Cover Girl that I used before, but sometimes you really do get what you pay for.
Hope everyone has a great weekend.
Earth Day
This Sunday is Earth Day. We will be in Alabama visiting family and friends, but if we were in town we would head to Centennial Park for the Nashville Earth Day Festival. As anyone who isn't living under a rock or in total denial knows, the Earth at this point needs all the help from us she can get. Instead of celebrating Earth Day once a year we should all commit to do little things everyday to make the future a little brighter for the next generation. One of my New Years resolutions that I have actually kept is carrying cloth bags to the grocery. What motivated me to do this was the April issue of Real Simple magazine which said "in an average year U.S. households use about 100 billion plastic bags, 99 percent of which are never recycled. Plastic grocery sacks take between 20 and 1,000 years to break down." I admit that the first time I handed the bagger my cloth bags and they looked at me like some crazy tree hugging hippie my neck got red and splotchy, my bodily response to being embarrassed, but honestly I refuse to go through life worried about what total strangers think of me. Plus I actually feel good when I leave and my cart is full of cloth bags instead of all that plastic.
Beauty Tip
So I recently stumbled onto a great beauty find. MAC eye liner is the first eye liner I have ever used that actually stays on all day and doesn't run down my face. The one I chose is MAC Techknakohl which I admit is a bit pricier than the Cover Girl that I used before, but sometimes you really do get what you pay for.
Hope everyone has a great weekend.
Saturday, April 14, 2007
And So It Goes
On March 22, 1994 I saw Kurt Vonnegut speak at the University of Florida. After his animated thought provoking performance I came home mind racing and wrote down as much as I could remember. I also saved my VIP Pass in my journal.
I must thank one of my professors that sadly I cannot remember his name who told a class full of bored freshman to go see anyone you can while they are still alive. If you like a band, buy a ticket and go, people aren't here forever and you don't want to look back and regret an opportunity you could have experienced. You could apply this train of thought to most things in life, but it was that advice that pushed me to go see Vonnegut who at the time I had not read any of his books.
So here are just a few thoughts from that evening:
"Rush Limbaugh is a fat fool. He is Polonius in Hamlet." I could not agree more.
"Reading is a dying entertainment. People today are entertained by TV and movies."
"Reading a book is a very personal thing. The weight of the book in your hands, the turning of the pages. You can write in it, give it to someone else, throw it away, open or close it. Reading in itself is a form of meditation." At the time I had not realized how meditative reading was. In college as an English major I devoured books in a fever to move on to the next assignment, but now I read much differently, slowly, rereading sections and even writing down quotes or ideas I do not want to forget, so yes reading and cooking are my two forms of meditation.
"Computers are going to either keep you at a minimum wage job or take your job altogether. You're getting screwed by computers." At the time he said he had written all of his books on an old model typewriter.
"Basically people are here on earth to fart around."
And my personal favorite:
"I see saints everyday. Ordinary people who are living decently in an indecent society."
Not long after seeing you I read Slaughterhouse Five. From the moment I started the book I could not put it down. Your writing challenged our views on history, the past and the present and made us look beyond "given" truths. From your perspective, decency was linked to skepticism instead of faith. Always questioning, always pushing.
So farewell Mr. Vonnegut. Wherever you are now, I know you are the life of the party. Everyone wants to be around you, so full of life, sharp as a razor wit, with a rebellious sparkle in your eye which comes from staying true to yourself and challenging everything.
Happy Easter Happy Spring
I hope everyone had a Happy Easter with family and friends. We did. Apparently too much sinful fun. Our household does not embrace any particular faith. I guess some would say we are Godless, we prefer Spiritual. As we all gathered around the dining room table I wanted us to say grace. Just a moment to recognize how thankful we are for good food and good friends. Our friend A's little boy B who is three said that he would say the blessing. B is Jewish and proceeded to impress the whole table when he said the entire blessing in Hebrew. A was kind enough to translate what it meant.
Just to make the Church of Christ really fired up we also served deviled eggs at our Easter lunch which in my family is a tradition. The next day while J was telling a co-worker about our Easter and what we cooked, he was shocked "You had deviled eggs on Easter." Apparently anything devilish isn't supposed to be offered on the day of the resurrection. Hmmm wonder if it made it worse that they were topped with bacon?
I must thank one of my professors that sadly I cannot remember his name who told a class full of bored freshman to go see anyone you can while they are still alive. If you like a band, buy a ticket and go, people aren't here forever and you don't want to look back and regret an opportunity you could have experienced. You could apply this train of thought to most things in life, but it was that advice that pushed me to go see Vonnegut who at the time I had not read any of his books.
So here are just a few thoughts from that evening:
"Rush Limbaugh is a fat fool. He is Polonius in Hamlet." I could not agree more.
"Reading is a dying entertainment. People today are entertained by TV and movies."
"Reading a book is a very personal thing. The weight of the book in your hands, the turning of the pages. You can write in it, give it to someone else, throw it away, open or close it. Reading in itself is a form of meditation." At the time I had not realized how meditative reading was. In college as an English major I devoured books in a fever to move on to the next assignment, but now I read much differently, slowly, rereading sections and even writing down quotes or ideas I do not want to forget, so yes reading and cooking are my two forms of meditation.
"Computers are going to either keep you at a minimum wage job or take your job altogether. You're getting screwed by computers." At the time he said he had written all of his books on an old model typewriter.
"Basically people are here on earth to fart around."
And my personal favorite:
"I see saints everyday. Ordinary people who are living decently in an indecent society."
Not long after seeing you I read Slaughterhouse Five. From the moment I started the book I could not put it down. Your writing challenged our views on history, the past and the present and made us look beyond "given" truths. From your perspective, decency was linked to skepticism instead of faith. Always questioning, always pushing.
So farewell Mr. Vonnegut. Wherever you are now, I know you are the life of the party. Everyone wants to be around you, so full of life, sharp as a razor wit, with a rebellious sparkle in your eye which comes from staying true to yourself and challenging everything.
Happy Easter Happy Spring
I hope everyone had a Happy Easter with family and friends. We did. Apparently too much sinful fun. Our household does not embrace any particular faith. I guess some would say we are Godless, we prefer Spiritual. As we all gathered around the dining room table I wanted us to say grace. Just a moment to recognize how thankful we are for good food and good friends. Our friend A's little boy B who is three said that he would say the blessing. B is Jewish and proceeded to impress the whole table when he said the entire blessing in Hebrew. A was kind enough to translate what it meant.
Just to make the Church of Christ really fired up we also served deviled eggs at our Easter lunch which in my family is a tradition. The next day while J was telling a co-worker about our Easter and what we cooked, he was shocked "You had deviled eggs on Easter." Apparently anything devilish isn't supposed to be offered on the day of the resurrection. Hmmm wonder if it made it worse that they were topped with bacon?
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Viva Las Vegas
I started out the early part of this week in Las Vegas. I flew out early Sunday morning to attend the American Beverage Licensees Convention and Nightclub and Bar Show. Yes this actually is work related and not drunken research. This was not my first trip out to the desert. I had been years ago as a kid with my Mom and her then partner B, but Vegas was just one stop on a two week road trip through many of the Western states. I think we stayed one night and then went to the Grand Canyon which in my opinion is the only reason to go to Vegas to begin with. The official last rest stop before you reach the largest hole in the world. I had been on a previous work trip say 5 or 6 years ago for the Bowling Proprietors Convention. *Just a note, the nightclub and bar show provides a lot more eye candy and things that make you go hmmm....
I arrived earlier than the other folks from my work so after I checked in at the hotel I decided to get out and explore. I had forgotten how long it actually takes you to get out of the hotels and actually hit the pavement. These guys really hate to see you leave. But our hotel was not one of the nicer hotels and it was a beautiful day so I wanted see what the city has to offer.
So I hit the Strip. Walking along I notice that the sidewalks are littered with what appears to be baseball cards, but on closer inspection they are escort "calling cards". Apparently you check your imagination at the door when you enter this city because these women were laying all their assets out on the table. Being a total tree loving liberal, I am disgusted by the littering but fascinated as well because this is when it hit me, I was not in Nashville anymore. On the next block I see where these sex nuggets are coming from. Peddlers are lined up on the sidewalk flicking or snapping these cards as people walk by. Here is how they tend to divy these morsels out, woman by herself (like me) they smile coyly at you but do not hand you a card, couple holding hands, try to pass the card to the man somewhat sheepishly, man by himself or group of men, it is New Years Eve and the ball just droppped, nude confetti for all. Fascinating. I could have hung out on the street all day and watched the responses from the passersby. Where were my Sociology professors now? Talk about group behaviour.
But I was headed to the Bellagio which is supposed to be the nicest most expensive hotel in Vegas. After taking two flat escalators because walking is for suckers, I entered the lobby. I must say that beautiful is not a word I would ever think to use in describing a hotel, but this place was impressive. The first thing that caught my eye was how packed it was with people, but then I looked up and saw the glass flowers hanging from the ceiling. My pictures do not do this hotel justice but here goes.
I was glad to see that there was more to Vegas than gambling and laying poolside, so I followed the signs to the Art Gallery. The current exhibit at the Bellagio is Ansel Adams. The exhibit is well done, lots of beautiful photos, and a section at the end that has letters Adams wrote as well as photos of him from all stages of his life. Just skimming the letters I realized that nothing would probably have saddened a man who loved nature as much as Adams than his exhibit in a hotel in Sin City. But maybe I am wrong...
I headed next door to Caesar's Palace and came upon the Brahma Shrine. It is an authentic replica of one of Thailand's most popular Buddist shrines. There was incense burning, gifts of fruit and flowers left as an offering and people were praying. It felt strangely peaceful and quiet in all that craziness and I was glad I had stumbed across it.
The rest of the day I shopped, sure wish Urban Outfitters would come to my neck of the woods, and then headed back to the hotel.
After my first day in Vegas whatever enthusism I had was completly worn off. So I will just list a few more tidbits or thoughts to sum up the trip.
1. Gambled at the Black Jack table for the first time. All other previous bets I had made in my life was a six pack on a football game or $20 in a poker game amongst friends. Needless to say I was entertained for about an hour and a half before they took all my chips. Those were the two most expensive "free" beers I ever got.
2. Went to the Stratosphere which looks like the space needle in Seattle and is located at the end of the Strip. It has incredible views of the city and that is where I took this photo. My main thought as we sat sipping our wine looking out at the view, "Holy Electricity".
3. The Monte Carlo where I stayed sucked. Construction on both sides of the hotel and those guys get going early in the morning. Even on the 25th floor I could hear those cement trucks backing up. Only upside to this hotel, Haagen Daz icecream in the food court.
4. My hotel window faced the direction of the airport and it was amazing to see the frequency of flights taking off and landing. About one every minute.
5. Vegas is all inclusive. They open their arms to everyone. I saw all nationalties, ages, and economics. This city, for some bizarre reason seems to appeal to just about everyone, like moths to a light.
6. I did actually do some work. There were meetings, conventions, and dinners to attend. Hands to be shook. But nothing earth shattering to report.
7. Spent my final afternoon before flying out the next morning, reading a library book in the bed and staring out the window watching the planes go by. I was ready to be home.
Spring In The South
On another note Spring has officially arrived here and these are the signs.
1. Our forsythia bush in the front yard has little yellow buds. This bush always reminds me of my Granny. I am sure it had no sway in my immediate love of the house when we saw it for the first time that it was in full bloom.
2. Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue arrived. Beyonce is on the cover and looking mighty fine I must say. This years issue came with a special section that had blurred photos of women in swimsuits that you view with the enclosed 3-D glasses. J's response while looking at the picture and moving the magazine slowly back and forth, "I still can't see her boobs".
I arrived earlier than the other folks from my work so after I checked in at the hotel I decided to get out and explore. I had forgotten how long it actually takes you to get out of the hotels and actually hit the pavement. These guys really hate to see you leave. But our hotel was not one of the nicer hotels and it was a beautiful day so I wanted see what the city has to offer.
So I hit the Strip. Walking along I notice that the sidewalks are littered with what appears to be baseball cards, but on closer inspection they are escort "calling cards". Apparently you check your imagination at the door when you enter this city because these women were laying all their assets out on the table. Being a total tree loving liberal, I am disgusted by the littering but fascinated as well because this is when it hit me, I was not in Nashville anymore. On the next block I see where these sex nuggets are coming from. Peddlers are lined up on the sidewalk flicking or snapping these cards as people walk by. Here is how they tend to divy these morsels out, woman by herself (like me) they smile coyly at you but do not hand you a card, couple holding hands, try to pass the card to the man somewhat sheepishly, man by himself or group of men, it is New Years Eve and the ball just droppped, nude confetti for all. Fascinating. I could have hung out on the street all day and watched the responses from the passersby. Where were my Sociology professors now? Talk about group behaviour.
But I was headed to the Bellagio which is supposed to be the nicest most expensive hotel in Vegas. After taking two flat escalators because walking is for suckers, I entered the lobby. I must say that beautiful is not a word I would ever think to use in describing a hotel, but this place was impressive. The first thing that caught my eye was how packed it was with people, but then I looked up and saw the glass flowers hanging from the ceiling. My pictures do not do this hotel justice but here goes.
I was glad to see that there was more to Vegas than gambling and laying poolside, so I followed the signs to the Art Gallery. The current exhibit at the Bellagio is Ansel Adams. The exhibit is well done, lots of beautiful photos, and a section at the end that has letters Adams wrote as well as photos of him from all stages of his life. Just skimming the letters I realized that nothing would probably have saddened a man who loved nature as much as Adams than his exhibit in a hotel in Sin City. But maybe I am wrong...
I headed next door to Caesar's Palace and came upon the Brahma Shrine. It is an authentic replica of one of Thailand's most popular Buddist shrines. There was incense burning, gifts of fruit and flowers left as an offering and people were praying. It felt strangely peaceful and quiet in all that craziness and I was glad I had stumbed across it.
The rest of the day I shopped, sure wish Urban Outfitters would come to my neck of the woods, and then headed back to the hotel.
After my first day in Vegas whatever enthusism I had was completly worn off. So I will just list a few more tidbits or thoughts to sum up the trip.
1. Gambled at the Black Jack table for the first time. All other previous bets I had made in my life was a six pack on a football game or $20 in a poker game amongst friends. Needless to say I was entertained for about an hour and a half before they took all my chips. Those were the two most expensive "free" beers I ever got.
2. Went to the Stratosphere which looks like the space needle in Seattle and is located at the end of the Strip. It has incredible views of the city and that is where I took this photo. My main thought as we sat sipping our wine looking out at the view, "Holy Electricity".
3. The Monte Carlo where I stayed sucked. Construction on both sides of the hotel and those guys get going early in the morning. Even on the 25th floor I could hear those cement trucks backing up. Only upside to this hotel, Haagen Daz icecream in the food court.
4. My hotel window faced the direction of the airport and it was amazing to see the frequency of flights taking off and landing. About one every minute.
5. Vegas is all inclusive. They open their arms to everyone. I saw all nationalties, ages, and economics. This city, for some bizarre reason seems to appeal to just about everyone, like moths to a light.
6. I did actually do some work. There were meetings, conventions, and dinners to attend. Hands to be shook. But nothing earth shattering to report.
7. Spent my final afternoon before flying out the next morning, reading a library book in the bed and staring out the window watching the planes go by. I was ready to be home.
Spring In The South
On another note Spring has officially arrived here and these are the signs.
1. Our forsythia bush in the front yard has little yellow buds. This bush always reminds me of my Granny. I am sure it had no sway in my immediate love of the house when we saw it for the first time that it was in full bloom.
2. Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue arrived. Beyonce is on the cover and looking mighty fine I must say. This years issue came with a special section that had blurred photos of women in swimsuits that you view with the enclosed 3-D glasses. J's response while looking at the picture and moving the magazine slowly back and forth, "I still can't see her boobs".
Sunday, January 28, 2007
Oh lazy Sunday
Sundays are my favorite day of the week. Especially in the
winter months when it is so cold outside I don't feel one
bit guilty if I stay in my pajamas all day long. It is also the only
day of the week I may never leave the house which is just fine by me.
Bitching Biscuits
I consider myself a decent cook, but a cursed baker. Cooking is easy.
I read the recipe and omit certain ingredients I don't have, (saffron
threads, does anyone know where I can buy these?) for ingredients
I have on hand. Baking is an exact science. No dash of this allowed. I
have to mind, crossing all my t's and dotting all my i's. I have never
been very good at "minding" so I have always left all the baking up
to the experts and created my baked goods from a box. All I have to do
is add milk, eggs, and stir, but even this doesn't always turn out
great. I may be a bit rough beating those eggs.
On the other hand, my Mom cooks pizza crust from scratch.
Can you imagine? And to add insult to injury, she makes the hours
of working the dough and letting the yeast do its thing, look fun
and easy. She is very sneaky. Every time she visits we spend a lot
time in the kitchen and when she leaves I have some "easy" recipe that
I am 99% confident I can make again on my own.
While she was here last October she cringed when I pulled out a can
of Pillsbury Biscuits for breakfast. Mom: "J homemade biscuits are
so easy to make. You don't need to buy canned biscuits just make your
own". Me: Blank stare.
So in no time my counter top is covered with flour, my hands have
wet biscuit mixture stuck to them like cement, and we are rolling
out dough. Mom always has great tips on common items to use in the
kitchen instead of having to buy another tool. A small lipped wine
glass (white wine) is perfect to cut out biscuits, if ya don't have
a round cookie cutter. You know what? She was right homemade biscuits
aren't that hard to make and they are mighty tasty.
Almost every weekend since, I attempt to make biscuits. When I stick
to Mom's exact recipe (using olive oil instead of shortening, it is
much healthier this way) they turn out almost as good as Mom makes.
Problem is J thinks the olive oil makes the biscuits too dense, he wants
light and airy biscuits. So I have started cutting pieces of butter
into the flour instead of olive oil and for some reason everything goes
to shit. I cannot get the mixture into a solid ball to save my life.
I get testy thinking I will beat the dry dough into moist submission,
but I end up with a tiny ball, lots of unused flour on the cutting board,
and I am cursing before noon. All the frustration aside, the biscuits do
end up tasting good. So when I talk to Mom later today I will ask her how
to solve this problem and I am sure she will have a very easy answer that
may or may not work for me.
The weekend
As I stated in my last post, my Dad had surgery this past Thursday. So
far, so good. The doctor said everything went smoothly and he has been
resting at home. We had planned on driving down to Alabama if he felt
like having company over the weekend. But when I spoke with him on Friday
he was drunk on pain meds and said he planned on resting the whole
weekend so for us to wait and come for a later visit.
The problem is the month of February is already filled up. I mean they
are all fun events, except for a business trip where I have to fly out at
6:00am on a Sunday morning. Fuck. Still each weekend is already penned-in
which means we aren't messing around. If something is penciled-in, we could
still squirrel our way out of it. This calendar full of fun totally
stresses me out. I start to fret that I am planning my life away and
that is why each and every year is going by in a blink and a blur. That
is why this weekend, where we had no plans ended up feeling like a
mini-vacation.
So far the play-by-play looks something like this:
Friday night: Cooked dinner, listened to music, in bed by 11:00.
Saturday: Walked at Radnor Lake (this is our weekly church visit
and I cannot tell you how much good it does me), grocery shopped, took a
long hot bath and read (Big Treat), cooked a great dinner, in bed by 11:30.
Sunday: Currently still in my pajamas,hopefully will have a marathon
conversation with my Mom, warm up leftovers for dinner, early to bed.
Total Bliss.
You are going to love White Trash
Want a tasty snack that will be eaten up in a flash? Well thanks to A I
have the recipe to post.
White Trash
18 oz (2.25 cups) peanut butter
18 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips
11 Tbsp light butter (may want to start with a stick and add pats from there depending on consistency)
1 (15 oz) box Crispix
7.5 oz Cheerios
7.5 oz pretzel twists
1 box powdered sugar
Mix cereals and peanut butter together in a large bowl. Melt
peanut butter, chocolate and butter in a double boiler until
smooth and pourable. Pour over cereal mixture and toss gently until
coated. Place mixture in a brown paper bag THEN inside a plastic
trash bag. Add powdered sugar in cup to 2 cup increments and shake
well to coat. (Brown bag works great, but has cracks so the sugar
puffs out into the air. Plastic bag on the outside will help with the mess.)
This recipe freezes great. Simply make in advance and put in the freezer.
Eat straight from the freezer or bring to room temp and chow.
Well Antiques Roadshow is on so time to go for now.
winter months when it is so cold outside I don't feel one
bit guilty if I stay in my pajamas all day long. It is also the only
day of the week I may never leave the house which is just fine by me.
Bitching Biscuits
I consider myself a decent cook, but a cursed baker. Cooking is easy.
I read the recipe and omit certain ingredients I don't have, (saffron
threads, does anyone know where I can buy these?) for ingredients
I have on hand. Baking is an exact science. No dash of this allowed. I
have to mind, crossing all my t's and dotting all my i's. I have never
been very good at "minding" so I have always left all the baking up
to the experts and created my baked goods from a box. All I have to do
is add milk, eggs, and stir, but even this doesn't always turn out
great. I may be a bit rough beating those eggs.
On the other hand, my Mom cooks pizza crust from scratch.
Can you imagine? And to add insult to injury, she makes the hours
of working the dough and letting the yeast do its thing, look fun
and easy. She is very sneaky. Every time she visits we spend a lot
time in the kitchen and when she leaves I have some "easy" recipe that
I am 99% confident I can make again on my own.
While she was here last October she cringed when I pulled out a can
of Pillsbury Biscuits for breakfast. Mom: "J homemade biscuits are
so easy to make. You don't need to buy canned biscuits just make your
own". Me: Blank stare.
So in no time my counter top is covered with flour, my hands have
wet biscuit mixture stuck to them like cement, and we are rolling
out dough. Mom always has great tips on common items to use in the
kitchen instead of having to buy another tool. A small lipped wine
glass (white wine) is perfect to cut out biscuits, if ya don't have
a round cookie cutter. You know what? She was right homemade biscuits
aren't that hard to make and they are mighty tasty.
Almost every weekend since, I attempt to make biscuits. When I stick
to Mom's exact recipe (using olive oil instead of shortening, it is
much healthier this way) they turn out almost as good as Mom makes.
Problem is J thinks the olive oil makes the biscuits too dense, he wants
light and airy biscuits. So I have started cutting pieces of butter
into the flour instead of olive oil and for some reason everything goes
to shit. I cannot get the mixture into a solid ball to save my life.
I get testy thinking I will beat the dry dough into moist submission,
but I end up with a tiny ball, lots of unused flour on the cutting board,
and I am cursing before noon. All the frustration aside, the biscuits do
end up tasting good. So when I talk to Mom later today I will ask her how
to solve this problem and I am sure she will have a very easy answer that
may or may not work for me.
The weekend
As I stated in my last post, my Dad had surgery this past Thursday. So
far, so good. The doctor said everything went smoothly and he has been
resting at home. We had planned on driving down to Alabama if he felt
like having company over the weekend. But when I spoke with him on Friday
he was drunk on pain meds and said he planned on resting the whole
weekend so for us to wait and come for a later visit.
The problem is the month of February is already filled up. I mean they
are all fun events, except for a business trip where I have to fly out at
6:00am on a Sunday morning. Fuck. Still each weekend is already penned-in
which means we aren't messing around. If something is penciled-in, we could
still squirrel our way out of it. This calendar full of fun totally
stresses me out. I start to fret that I am planning my life away and
that is why each and every year is going by in a blink and a blur. That
is why this weekend, where we had no plans ended up feeling like a
mini-vacation.
So far the play-by-play looks something like this:
Friday night: Cooked dinner, listened to music, in bed by 11:00.
Saturday: Walked at Radnor Lake (this is our weekly church visit
and I cannot tell you how much good it does me), grocery shopped, took a
long hot bath and read (Big Treat), cooked a great dinner, in bed by 11:30.
Sunday: Currently still in my pajamas,hopefully will have a marathon
conversation with my Mom, warm up leftovers for dinner, early to bed.
Total Bliss.
You are going to love White Trash
Want a tasty snack that will be eaten up in a flash? Well thanks to A I
have the recipe to post.
White Trash
18 oz (2.25 cups) peanut butter
18 oz semi-sweet chocolate chips
11 Tbsp light butter (may want to start with a stick and add pats from there depending on consistency)
1 (15 oz) box Crispix
7.5 oz Cheerios
7.5 oz pretzel twists
1 box powdered sugar
Mix cereals and peanut butter together in a large bowl. Melt
peanut butter, chocolate and butter in a double boiler until
smooth and pourable. Pour over cereal mixture and toss gently until
coated. Place mixture in a brown paper bag THEN inside a plastic
trash bag. Add powdered sugar in cup to 2 cup increments and shake
well to coat. (Brown bag works great, but has cracks so the sugar
puffs out into the air. Plastic bag on the outside will help with the mess.)
This recipe freezes great. Simply make in advance and put in the freezer.
Eat straight from the freezer or bring to room temp and chow.
Well Antiques Roadshow is on so time to go for now.
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I promise I will be better
I started writing this Thursday night and got pulled away by a phone call. Now finally wrapping it up on Saturday morning.
What's For Dinner Part II
So I finished The Omnivore's Dilemma A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan this week and here are some final thoughts.
Chapter 13 The Market Page 239
"It didn't surprise me to read that the typical item of food on an Americans plate travels some fifteen hundred miles to get there, and is frequently better traveled and more worldly than its eater".
*This tidbit of information not only amazed me but also pissed me off. That my foods passport could have way more action on it than mine, that is if veggies had passports.
There is a bumper sticker in Europe to show support for eating locally "Eat your view". Nice.
There is so much more I could ramble on about from this book, but I will stop. J said there is no reason for him to even read the book since I have told him ever-damned bit about it. That is what happens when I get excited about a read; I want to talk about it. To sum it up, the book left me with a new appreciation for my food. I have never been big on saying grace or the blessing before we eat, but now I find myself thinking to myself or sometimes saying out loud "give thanks" to all the daily abundance on my plate. I mean it is the least I can do since it will be the last trip that food ever takes.
Center Hill Lake
Last weekend we spent in a cabin at Center Hill. I mean the rental place called it a cabin but this place was not rustic, in fact in some ways it was nicer than our house. Great open kitchen with all the latest appliances, a flat screen TV, a sauna bathtub, and a hot tub on the deck. These were the things that it had that my house most definitely does not. We ate lots of food. A made some deadly Chex mix called White Trash that was as delicious and addictive as it sounds. When I get the recipe from her, I will post it and then I will challenge you not to eat that peanut-buttery, powdered-sugar-covered goodness until you are sick.
Good times were had by all. Beer boxes make great roadways and there is nothing sweeter than seeing a little one smile.
Thank you American Idol
If you are a fan and want to bicker over who was cheated out of a win, I am sorry you'll have to bitch to someone else. I don't actually watch the show I am just a fan of one of their winners. Miss Carrie Underwood. Why you may ask? Well because she cut "Before He Cheats" which ended up being a five-week-running Number 1 song and one of our close friends was a co-writer. Last night we went to a party to celebrate.
There is a long history with these folks and yes it does begin back in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. As a kid before my parents divorced and I was uprooted to Florida and everything completely changed, I lived on Edgewood Drive and JT lived right down the street. Our parents were close friends so I have a lot of fun memories with her when my family was still whole. JT always reminds me of some story from the past that makes me laugh.
Like this:
JT said, "Do you remember that one time you came flying down the street on your bicycle, like you were running from a fire. You stopped in front of my house and I asked you what was wrong"?
You said, "Don't you know, the Yankees are coming"? Yes I was definitely an overly dramatic southern girl whose parents only had PBS on the TV for many of my formative years.
Both JT's parents are talented musicians. Her Dad actually has the famed title Best Banjo Player in the state of Alabama and her Mom taught me piano lessons. Before the family life I had always known fell apart, JT and I (strangely enough we even share the same name, I am named after my Granny Jessie, JT is named after an Allman Brothers song) had spent many nights at one another’s house, celebrated many birthday parties in backyards around picnic tables, and have years of photos of us dressed up for Halloween. She is that kind of friend.
When my parents divorced and my Mom and I moved to Florida we lost touch. I mean we still knew snippets from one another’s lives through our parents and would occasionally run into each another when I was in the Shoals for some holiday. I heard when her parents later divorced and was sad. I knew when she was accepted at Auburn University and was happy. The big things in our lives were still shared through our parents, which kept us connected.
Many years later when hubby (boyfriend at the time) and I moved to Nashville JT's Mom called me. Said JT had graduated from Auburn and was moving to Nashville and wanted to know if I knew of any jobs in the music biz. At the time I didn't, but I told her Mom I would let her know if something came up. When JT finally moved to Nashville we were instant friends, just like no time had passed at all. I mean we had a lot of catching up to do, but it felt just like it always had, which is rare and nice.
Unfortunately, when JT left the Shoals to move to Nashville she left heart broken. She was in love with C but they had split before she moved. She dated different guys in Nashville, but whenever we were on our fourth glass of wine C's name and how much she missed him would come up. C, a talented musician and songwriter, was playing in a cover band at La Fonda's (best margaritas in the Shoals) on the weekends and JT thought he should move to Nashville and pursue his musical dream. After one of our more drunken discussions I asked her if she had told C how she truly felt, that she still loved him and that he needed to move here. JT said, "No, not exactly." I said, “The next time you are home just tell him, then at least he will know.” Now reader I am good at giving others advice that I truly feel in my heart is right but cannot actually say that I would have the courage to do myself, especially after too much wine.
Ended up that is exactly what JT did and it worked! C moved up here, they eventually got married, and of course last night standing in the lobby which was full of all of their family members, friends, and industry folks listening to C talk about all the people he would like to thank, first and foremost his beautiful wife, I was overwhelmed with happiness for them. I also couldn't help but think how some friendships you have run their course, while others continue to grow, change and get better over time.
The Call
I mentioned that a call had taken me away from my blogging thoughts on Thursday. My Dad is going in for minor surgery next Thursday. He has had circulation problems in his legs for many years due to a terrible accident that I may at a later date write about here. It has caused him pain and discomfort and now they are worried about blood clots. So please keep my Dad in your thoughts on Thursday.
Sunday, January 7, 2007
What Fun We Will Have
Hawaii 5 0 7
It is a rainy Sunday afternoon and all is well. In fact all is swell. After spending over two hours on the phone with the airline (done on company time) cashing in our frequent flyer miles for one free ticket and half price on the other ticket, (KICK ASS) we are heading to Hawaii in May to see my Mom. My Mom has been living in H. for over 14 years, which means we do not get to see one another nearly enough. When I went off to college it was a dream come true. Heading to H. for the summer, see you guys in two months, but now it is just a royal pain in the ass. Don't get me wrong dear reader, J. and I love vacationing in H. which means we have a free place to stay, a car to use, lots of home cooked meals, great adventures, and of course the most important thing time with my Mom. The problem is it can only happen every couple of years. Buying two full price tickets to H. is not in our family budget and taking a long vacation without the other one isn't an option. Mom travels back to the southeast twice a year instead of us jetting to paradise. The last time we went to H. was in June of 2004, which is just too damned long. So yippee let the planning begin. I will be reading up on all kinds of guide books hunting the best new restaurants, secret beaches where only the locals hangout, and day dreaming about when the three of us will once again be together in one of the most naturally wild, remote places in the world. Ok not sure if this is geographically accurate, but in the sums of my world travels it's definitely the case. So consider yourself warned this is just the beginning of postings about our upcoming adventure and if you ever find yourself heading over to H. for a vacation let me know I am happy to share our "best of" tidbits.
Aren't we the lucky ones?
Next weekend we are heading off to Center Hill Lake where we are renting a cabin with our friends A., T, and their two boys B. and R. Plans for the weekend? Lounging around, watching movies, eating, boozing, playing games and match box cars (B's favorite), and soaking in the hot tub. We may do something else but these are the "tops" on our list of priorities. A. who is currently on maternity leave, wanted us to all take a trip but since she was forced to use all of her vacation days before maternity leave kicked in, (Is this standard company practice, because if so it totally bites?) we are taking it now before she heads back to work in Feb. The last time we all took a trip together was in the summer of 2003 when A. was pregnant with B and we went to Chicago, so we are all stoked about our cabin get-away.
In preparation for our weekend away I made a loaf of Pumpkin Pecan Bread. It is very tasty and easy to make so I am including the recipe:
Pumpkin Pecan Bread
Ingredients:
1/2 stick of butter
1 cup pumpkin puree'
2 eggs, beaten
3/4 cup flour
1 cup brown sugar
1/4 tsp. salt
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 tsp. baking soda
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/4 tsp. ground cloves
1/2 cup chopped pecans
In a saucepan melt butter over medium heat, stir in brown sugar cook 3 minutes stirring constantly. Transfer to a bowl and stir in pumpkin. Let mixture cool until luke warm then stir in the eggs. In a separate bowl combine dry ingredients. Add to pumpkin mixture and stir in well. Add the nuts.
Makes 1 regular size loaf or 2 to 3 mini loaves. Bake at 350 degrees about 1 hour, 45 minutes for mini-loaves.
*I usually double the recipe and make two loaves because the bread freezes really well. Make sure bread has fully cooled on a wire rack or plate, wrap in aluminum foil and place in a Ziploc freezer bag pushing out as much air as possible before closing. When you want to eat simply remove from freezer and let thaw for about an hour then place in the oven at 350 degrees until warmed.
Tasty as a breakfast bread and good enough to serve as dessert.
Futball
I am not an avid football fan but tomorrow night I will be cussing and hollering at the screen as my alma mater The Florida Gators take the field against the Ohio Buckeyes in the National Championship. For some reason when UF plays I get all fan-crazy, making bets with co-workers (*note to self: see if there are any takers tomorrow at work) and actually getting physically stressed (racing heart beat and sweaty palms) before kick-off. Now reader please understand I know very little about the semantics of the game, but fortunately my hubby J. is happy to rattle off statistics, explain all the bad calls, and failed plays while talking about so-and-so player like they are the best of friends. This is how I know the man has a much better memory than he let's on. Why do you ask do I get so fired up about UF football? Mostly because living in Gainesville is where I became a semi-adult, learned to live on my own, handle booze without throwing up, and met some of my closet friends to this day. It is where I still have so many fond memories and truly look back and appreciate that time in my life, where I learned a little in school and a lot about life and myself.
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Food Lust
Granny's Kitchen
Food is something we are quite taken with in my family. My Granny (my Mom's Mom) used to say, we have food lust and boy was she right.
It is not just eating food that tickles us; we are completely smitten by the whole process: perusing magazines and cookbooks for the next great recipe, shopping for that elusive ingredient, planning vacations where the days are organized by what meal we will be having at what restaurant, sharing recipes and shortcuts with other foodies like ourselves. We like cooking meals and sitting down at the table and enjoying them together. In fact, this is the best part. Food always taste better when it is shared with people you love.
When I was a little girl my Granny's house was my home away from home. Like your vacation home, the place that is more fun because you get to do what you choose and escape your daily routines, plus get spoiled in the process. From as far back as I can remember one of the first things out of Granny's mouth when I arrived was "J. are you hungry? This is what I can fix". Then Granny would list off all the wonderfully delicious things that were just waiting for me to enjoy, all I had to do was ask. Granny had a tiny kitchen that had the "three" main ingredients to making a fabulous meal: the refrigerator for storage, the stove for cooking, and passion for the process. That was it people. No dishwasher, no microwave, no bread maker, etc. In a time when people have more tools than ever, we cook less than before because we lack the one true ingredient: passion.
What's For Dinner?
Food has been on my mind a lot more lately. For Christmas my Mom gave me the book The Omnivore's Dilemma A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan. Though I am only about half way through the book I cannot believe how much about food a foodie like myself didn't know. This book has not only opened my eyes to the politics behind food (I mean face it we all have to eat) but the history of how we have gotten to where we are today. Just a few quotes from the book that I hope you find as interesting as I do:
Chapter 2 The Farm Page 41
"The great turning point in the modern history of corn, which in turn marks a key turning point in the industrialization of our food, can be dated with some precision to the day in 1947 when the huge munitions plant at Muscle Shoals, Alabama (*this is my hometown and my hubby J. and I love to say there is always a Shoals connection because people there really is, but that is a whole other story) switched over to making chemical fertilizer. After the war the government had found itself with a tremendous surplus of ammonium nitrate, the principal ingredient in the making of explosives. Ammonium nitrate also happens to be an excellent source of nitrogen for plants. Serious thought was given to spraying America's forests with the surplus chemical, to help out the timber industry. But agronomists in the Department of Agriculture had a better idea: Spread the ammonium nitrate on farmland as fertilizer. The chemical fertilizer industry (along with that of pesticides, which are based on poisonous gases developed for the war) is the product of the government's effort to convert its war machine to peacetime purposes. As the Indian farmer activist Vandana Shiva says in her speeches, "We're still eating the leftovers of World War II".
Chapter 9 Big Organic Page 183
"The food industry burns nearly a fifth of all the petroleum consumed in the United States (about as much as automobiles do). Today it takes between seven and ten calories of fossil fuel energy to deliver one calorie of food energy to an American plate".
Chapter 12 Slaughter Page 235
"You can't regulate integrity". This was stated by Virginia farmer Joel Salatin regarding governments regulation of the food industry and I thought it was too good not to share.
This is just the tip of the iceberg dear reader. I purposely left out the gory details of livestock and how they are treated before they make it to our plate and trust me; you are thanking me for it.
Local Food-Tastes Better Travels Less
We started buying local organic produce this past Spring from Fresh Harvest Coop.
We were referred to them by a friend of ours and decided we wanted to give it a shot. Not only is the produce more reasonable than Wild Oats and tastier than Kroger’s, it is truly supporting your local farmer. Just knowing the person who is growing your food is a great feeling. It is awesome, not only because the food is super fresh and delicious but because it just feels like a good deed for both of us (the farmer and me the consumer) every time I write a check.
Ok I will get off my food box....
Monday, January 1, 2007
Little Nipper?
So after many months of reading blogs by all kinds of interesting folks most of whom I do not personally know, but wish I did, I have decided to give this blog thing a try.
Why the little nipper you may ask? Well it goes back to my high school days with my longtime best friend T. T and I did everything together. She was my absolute bestest girlfriend. We would spend hours lounging in her hammock or watching the sunset over the strip mall in Tallahassee as we ate our TCBY yogurt-analyzing boys. You know that stage in your life when you spent copious amounts of time trying to figure out if that special someone brushing up against you in the hallway between classes really did love you as much as you loved him. Anyway, we were absolutely crazy about this candy Coffee Nips. It tasted liked coffee, except not the current kind of coffee that I recently gave up, but the kind you would enjoy when you are 14 years old, very sweet with caramel flavoring. We were hooked on their sweet delicious goodness, so our affection for these treats ended up supplying us with nicknames that we bestowed on people we liked. It truly was a compliment to be called nip, nipper, nip-nop, and so on. We were quite the wordsmiths in those days. The nickname was catchy enough that it circled our group of friends until after many months I think we ran it into the ground. Another friend of mine even named the family cat Nipper. It is a word that conjures up fond, fun loving memories for me and so the Little Nipper it is.
Drinking Jenga Anyone?
For the last eight years my husband J. and I have spent ringing in the New Year with our dearest friends A. and T. and this year was no exception. Our first New Years Eve together was the year of the Y2K scare. At that time both of us were not married, but had opted for living in sin, you know the test before you buy philosophy, which I highly recommend. A. cooked a fabulous meal and we consumed large amounts of alcohol while playing the "homemade"drinking Jenga game. This is a simple game that only has two outcomes, you either have to take a drink or give a drink to another player. Want a drinking Jenga game for your home? Simply get a permanent marker and write on each wooden tile "Drink 1", "Drink 2", "Give 1", "Give 2", etc. We still laugh when we think of that night because apparently the all of two rules of the game were confusing to me. Whenever I drew a tile that said "Drink" I kept trying to make someone else drink, instead of taking the drink myself. The pictures from that night are full of lots of goofy grins, red cheeks, and bloodshot eyes. We weren't sure what was going to happen when 2000 rolled around, but A. said if everything fell apart we could always go hole up at her Mom's house across town because she had enough canned goods to get us through the year.
As the years have gone by the locations have changed. We spent three years ringing in the New Year at A.'s cousin's house. These parties were always themed and required a costume. There was the Hawaiian theme which meant donning a swim suit top and grass skirt in December, Vegas night where A. and I dressed up as white tigers (white sweat suits with hand painted black stripes and a sewn on tail compliments of T. who is a super crafty husband) while J. and T. were Siegfried and Roy. This was definitely the most creative costume of the party. And the last year that was more formal, black dresses for us gals and tuxes for the guys. In 2004 when J. and I bought our home we had a group of friends over to our place. Last year we rang in 2006 at another friend of ours home.
This year we decided 2007 should be just the four of us again. Really there were five because R. their super cute two-month-old boy was with us as well. When we got to their house we spent a couple of hours playing cars with B. their almost three year old boy. Then he went to his Grandmothers down the road so we could spend the night and sleep in his bed. We had cheese fondue with bread, celery, and apples for an appetizer. Feasted on King Crab Legs for dinner and had chocolate fondue with cheesecake, apples, and brownies for dessert. We had some tasty wine with dinner and instead of champagne we toasted at midnight with Lindemans Cherry Lambic Beer (delicious).
Things have changed over the last eight years. We are all married, have mortgages, A. and T. have two precious little boys, and we all know how to consume large amounts of alcohol without feeling so shitty the next day, but in other ways it feels just like it did the first year we all hung out. We still get excited when we are together and have to try not to talk over one another, we still congregate around the kitchen, we end up playing some kind of game (last night it was Scene It?, have you played it?) but most importantly we still love to hang out.
Though this year was milder than years in the past, I didn't wake up feeling like a trip to McDonalds was necessary or that I could throw up at any moment.When twelve o'clock rolled around I was holding R. who amazingly stayed up until a few minutes before midnight when he crashed in my arms and didn't wake up while we hollered and toasted at midnight. Though different than in years past, it was also wonderfully the same. We were all together ringing in another year.
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