Mail Call

 

I was cleaning off my desk this morning and guess what I found? Remember this post? Well, I really did do it and got this card in the mail just a few days later. You might think it wasn't that exciting since I had written the card myself, but you would be wrong. I wrote it quickly, letting the words flow out of my pen and quickly sealed it up tight before I could critique myself too much. Therefore, I really couldn't remember what it said. Awwww, I can be so nice and supportive to myself. Don't we all need to be reminded of that sometimes? 

In other news, my handwriting is not attractive. No, don't argue with me. Miss Davis would be so disappointed to know that it never did get better. It gets extra crazy when I am at my writing group and just trying to get the words on paper. I really should start transcribing those pages now, before I can't read it myself. 

Dusty & I are off to the unparalleled Oregon coast now, a birthday getaway for us both. Wish me happy antiquing, eating, and blackjacking!

Route 666?

I had the strangest thought this morning while driving to work. Someday soon (like in 5 years or so) I'd really like to take a whole summer off and do the classic cross country trip. I'd really like to go with my kiddo, who would be just the right age to appreciate his hip old mom's spirit while alternately pouting about missing a summer with his friends. Of course I don't think I'd mind being by myself to awfully much either. My best-best-best girlfriend Steph would be fun too. I have it in my head that I need to go see all the national parks, and eat pecan pie in Georgia, swim off the gulf coast, eat key lime pie in Florida, see the quilts of the Midwest, eat lobster in Maine, hmmm, I like eating...

Ch-ch-changes

I used to have a blog. It was called "Chubbykins Goes Down". A rather clever play on words, thought I. Referencing my stature as a person of a roly-poly nature and my struggle to deflate said chubbiness, as well as a shout out to the excellent film, Igby Goes Down, it was a fine name for a blog. My mom read it, and maybe sometimes some other folks stumbled over it. My mom thinks I am special, so she told some people in her office to come check out my brilliant little corner of webdom.  

So, Dustin* and his partner sat down for a merry night of bloggy goodness and typed, "Chubbygirl Goes Down" in the URL bar. Uh yeah, not what they were expecting apparently. Although I'm sure that site is brilliant in it's own right.  Anyhoooo, that little mix up had never occurred to me before but now it's all I can think of. So, I've moved all my posts to this shiny new blog, where, god willing no one will need any therapy after viewing.

*Name changed to protect the innocent.

Freakish Fractals

Guess what this is!? No really, guess! Awww, no fair, the foody friends got it. Yup, it's a Romanesco broccoli which means it's really a cauliflower. I think.

So beside just looking super cool this little veggie powerhouse is very yummy in the tummy. It seems intimidating but we just sliced it up and sauteed away in a little olive oil, garlic and red pepper flakes. It was the perfect side dish for some hearty and rich spaghetti.

Working at the veggie hut like we do, it's been hard to justify a lot of gardening since we can actually get most things cheaper than the labor and water it would take to grow them. I've really missed spending time in the garden though, so this year I am planning to grow some of these kind of specialty crops that make meals a little extra special. Things like purple and orange cauliflower, purple pole beans, chioggia beets, and baby eggplants. And, let's face it. Some things just taste better fresh picked. Tomatoes and lemon cucumbers and peas off the vine especially. 

 

Fashionably Late

I am late to the "Happy New Year" hullabaloo. My apologies, traffic was simply crushing, my heel broke, I was a bit under the weather, my alarm never went off, and assorted other excuses. The truth is I spent most of the holiday season, including the New Year's day and eve sorting out some relationship issues. What can I say? It's complicated folks. Also, love stinks.

But never mind all that now. What matters is now, this ordinary moment right here. At least that's what Pema Chodron has to say on the matter of the first month of the new year. I love these calendars from her, because sometimes it's all I can do to pause and enjoy those fleeting moments of beauty. Believe it or not, I pause at my little calender posted on my pantry door and read those words more times a day than might be seemly. Do you think that counts as meditation?

There is some good stuff coming this year folks, My health goals remain a priority and I add my writing practice to the rooster. Next week I join a writing group focused on personal memoir writing. I'm planning to expand the blog and maybe even join the blogosphere? If y'all will have me, of course. My vision is a little bit funny, part poetry, always writing, gardening, cooking/eating, and family shenanigans. Is a name change in order? Talk to me people. If you do, I promise to make you some of these:


And yes, those are four different kinds of chocolate chips plus mini dark m&m's. There might also be a few peanut butter chips hiding out in there too. Just sayin.

Blood and Roses

"You peer inside yourself
You take the things you like
And try to love the things you took
And then you take that love you made
And stick it into some
Someone else's heart
Pumping someone else's blood
And walking arm in arm
You hope it don't get harmed
But even if it does
You'll just do it all again"

-On the Radio
Regina Spektor

Even if I didn't like Regina Spektor's music (which I do), I think this would still be one of my favorite bits of poetry/lyric in the world. I get chills every time I hear it, and a few weeks ago when I was huffing and puffing it on the treadmill, this song came on the ipod and helped me push through that workout.

You see, I've been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, and I may have lost sight of the things inside myself to love. I may have given them all away and I now I can't get them back. But you know what? It's gonna be ok, because I'm just gonna do it all again. ...and again...and again.

I bought myself these lovely roses the other day, and even though they weren't the prettiest roses I saw, I took the time to smell all the bunches and this bunch tickled my nose buds just right. Perhaps a reminder to myself that everything in this world has a special place somewhere and is valued, maybe not valued for what it's expected to be, but precious nonetheless. The roses mean a lot to me because part of my struggle right now is financial and I saw these flowers as a way to treat myself to something now, before my belt gets really tight.

There are many folks who might find this rather out of character for me, but flowers are one of the gifts I really do appreciate. I know a lot people are divided on this subject, I've heard many friends say they would rather have some thing more practical, or longer lasting, or just save the money, but I have some very special memories of flowers in my life.

The pink carnations from my first boyfriend in sixth grade, the red roses in a rose shaped vase my father brought me upon our first meeting, my aunt's gorgeous white rose/purple iris/ivy wedding bouquet that she made for me, the red roses on my 20th birthday (the day I brought Q home from the hospital), the big expensive arrangement on my 26th birthday, the heart stopping bouquet from my mom last Valentines day...

What about the rest of you? Where do you fall in the flower debate?

But that's sooo unfair...

On Thanksgiving I came home to an almost empty very cold house. Q was at his dad's house in Idaho, D was at a big poker tourney ( he lost, but respectably) and there was no blazing fire in Big Flamey (which is what I would call my wood stove if I were going to give it a name). There was however one cranky brother laying on the couch watching Hostel 2. I really can't do scary movies at all, so I retreated into my bedroom where I was able to enjoy my new "sitting room" area for the first time. I lit the candles on the mantle snuggled up with a blanky and watched 2 hours of Iron Chef. It was actually one of the nicest evening I think I've had in the house.

But then I was watching this show and looking at these people who eat so much food all the time and thinking about the people I know in my own life who can eat absolutely anything they want anytime they want and not gain anything, even without exercising. Sooo unfair! However, I started thinking a little deeper about the advantages I have. I don't drink soda, or alcohol (occasionally, but not enough to really impact my diet), I'm a good cook and able to make lots of healthy adaptations without much research, I love fruits and veggies and lots of other "healthy hippie food", and I have a lot of access to fresh "real" foods. So, from a relative point of view, that might be unfair to others. Oh contentment, you are an elusive and demanding mistress...