20 little things

Now here!

2011-04-02T15:14:00.001-07:00

Find me these days at tharshesews.blogspot.com.

Scrappy clutches

2010-06-09T14:16:00.000-07:00

I just keep on keeping on with my crafty kick!

I recently made two scrappy clutches from the site fromanigloo.blogspot.com. This project, each time, took me several hours. Like maybe five. Each time, I did it on a Saturday and basically fell into a sewing trance where come hell or high water, I was not going to stop until the clutch was DONE, damn it.

Except, well, I did. Quit that is.

The first time, I simple missed the last step. Just didn't notice it! I kept looking at my purse with this one interior flash not sewed down and thought, Hmmmm, really? I guess that's normal?!

What an idiot! Finally a few hours later I checked the tutorial again to see it needed some top stitching to finish it up. Who'da thunk?

The problem was that my clutch is so small and fat, it seems impossible to get it in a good position on my machine to accomplish that top-stitch. It would stitch through the material but not feed it. I tried it several ways, and then gave up. Both times.

But oh well. They're still cute and functional, and if I ever stop being stubborn, I'll figure out how to actually put that finishing touch on them!

What do you think?

I'm enjoying using them! They're the perfect size to hold my wallet, phone and lip-gloss. I can keep all that stuff in them and then throw the clutch in a bigger bag if need be -- a diaper bag, my work bag. And then my essentials are easy to find.

Read 25 books: The Year of Pleasures

2010-06-03T05:28:00.000-07:00

Finished a book last night, finally! It's been a while since I made it through one.

It was The Year of Pleasures, by one of my favorite authors, Elizabeth Berg. She's sort of a guilty pleasure author, although I don't feel it's quite fair to her to attach that label to her. She writes about women, mostly in their 40s or 50s, living ordinary lives, stumbling through relationships or common life happenings. Births, deaths, marriages, divorce. In this book, the protagonist, Betta, is 55 and newly widowed. Her husband was her life, a fact that sort of irked me. She had worked as a children's book writer, a fact that is mentioned a few times but never expounded on, never something that seems important to Betta. That struck me as off. Writers, even when they're not writing, typically think about writing, right? But she doesn't put pen to paper once during the book.

Instead, what she does is sell her brownstone in Boston for an obnoxious sum and moves to the Midwest, to a town she has never heard. This intrigued me. My husband and I used to have these grand plans in college to move to a place called Carefree, Arizona. We talked about it for months as if we were actually going to do it. It felt very romantic and adventurous, our plans to move to a city in the dessert based solely on its quirky name. But we never did do it. We graduated, we scored great internships, and our lives began in a much more realistic, down-to-earth kind of way. So in a sense, I appreciated Berg's plot because it held that sense of excitement that we rarely experience in "real life." But it also felt, of course, a little unreal. Not the idea, but the execution. Things worked out a little too perfectly, and sometimes nonsensically. She finds the perfect house in the perfect town and buys it with cash. She quickly meets characters she connects with, including with little trouble, finding with her old collage roommates. In "real life," these woman likely would have grown apart. Not in the book. Her three best friends are largely the same as who they were back then, and they're still best friends, and they're somewhat suspended in time, just waiting for Betta to call.

The problem is that some of these people and relationships are never fleshed out. It feels a little bit like Berg doesn't know where she's going or what the point is. Why is the 9-year-old kid from next door in her life? What's his purpose in the story? What does he teach Betta? I seriously can't answer that. Or the two 20-year-old men she befriends? They have some nice moments together, but if they fulfill some part in Betta's life or move her forward in her grief, I can't really say. Even among the best friends, only one is crystallized. Another has only one character-enhancing scene with Betta; the last is barely more than a name taking up space. There is also this ongoing thread of found scraps of paper from her deceased husband, each containing a single word or phrase. And these phrases make no sense to Betta. Or to me, the reader. And if there is ever a revelation about why he wrote down these nonsense words for Betta to find, what he hoped to convey through them, or what they actually mean, it is lost on me, never really explained. That was disappointing.

I'm being pretty harsh and the truth is, while the book left me a little stumped at the end, trying to piece together the holes and make sense of the way things worked in the world Berg created, I did enjoy reading it. Berg is pretty sentimental about very small things -- delicious food, the textiles in her character's home, the fleeting feelings and memories that are sparked in our minds. I don't mind this sentimentality. It seems to me very much the experience of being a woman. So these writing moments kept me going.

But in the end, it just didn't come together like most of her books. There were too many glaring holes in the end, too many relationships and situations that I look back at now and think, why did you take us through that if it didn't lead to any advancement in a character's life? It's sort of stumping.

I'll read Berg again, though. And now I must pick up something else! I'm pretty far behind in my goal of reading 25 books. Time to play catch up.

Who to write a letter to?

2010-06-02T05:45:00.000-07:00

One of my 20 Little Things is to write hand-written letters once a month. I'm not doing so well in this area.

Part of the problem is that I feel honestly like it is weird to write someone you speak with or Facebook with or text with a hand-written letter. It feels very formal. What is there to say if you see my status updates on Facebook? It almost feels like I need some grand reason for writing on paper. Our world is so willy-nilly with communication now, everything is so fast and casual that I am quite stumped at how to find the right tone for a real letter. And the right recipient.

I'd thought about writing to a company or store that I love. But when the time comes, I can't think of one that I want to write to! Is something wrong with me? Can you imagine yourself writing a letter to some store you really loved, just to say you loved it? Why does doing so make me feel like some creep?

The fallback is always Grandma. Grandma writes US letters, and we don't email with her, so it's either that or the phone. She probably wouldn't mind a hand-written letter every month. But I'd like to shake it up.

Who should I write a letter to? Who was the last person you wrote a real letter to? Give me some ideas, pretty pretty please!

I Heart Faces -- Week 22 -- Barefoot week

2010-06-01T05:47:00.000-07:00

This was taken last summer in Old Montreal on our first day of a week long vacation. Luke was often barefoot back then. Now, he's a little shoe lover. He loves to put on shoes to go for a walk, to go to the park, to just go. He'll bring me his shoes sometimes -- like, hint hint, Mama! Or he'll walk around in my shoes, even my heels! I'm actually a foot hater -- something about feet gives me the shudders. But this little baby's feet, I could kiss and pet all day.

See more fun "Barefoot" photos at I Heart Faces!

Oh, and, this week, instead of making it a photo competition, the blog is raising awareness for a great organization called Soles 4 Souls. Go check it out here!

Memorial Day

2010-05-30T11:04:00.000-07:00

Yesterday we walked into town to let Luke dip his feet in the fountain. He loves that. He also made some friends and frolicked in the grass in front of the war memorial. I never actually realized my town HAD a war memorial, so while he scampered about, I stepped up to read the plaques surrounded by flowers. Kind of fitting to find it on Memorial Day weekend.

My Dad did not serve in the military -- he was too young for Korea and I think too old for Vietnam. I don't know if he was in the draft or not. I'll have to ask him. But both my grandpas also lived into the 1980s and 90s. Whether they were in the military or not, I don't know. If so, it wasn't something talked about. One grandfather died when I was just two, the other when I was 19. We never really talked about much at all.

So when it comes to Memorial Day, it's not so much a personal thing to me. Growing up, Memorial Day meant one thing: that the pool at the country club was opening, and it was time for the summer swim season to begin. We might have had a BBQ or something like that, but nothing much was made about remembrance or military sacrifice or the freedoms we take for granted.

But I've been choked up a few times this weekend thinking about those very things. Once was reading this post called "We Remember and are thankful," at Lovely Bud. She writes about her husband who is in the army and how blessed she is that each time he's been deployed, he's returned home to her. How we should not only remember those who fought but their families at home, waiting, praying for their loved ones to come back. I cannot image what being a mother and wife in that situation would be like, how strong you would try to remain for your children while on the inside worrying yourself to pieces.

Then another kind of rememberance spoke to me: one of a mother who has lost her child. Not to a war involving guns and tankers and bombs, but a war of the body, a tiny heart that was fighting for its life. From the blog Out of a New Habit, the talented heart mom Stephanie talks about the birth of her baby girl one year ago. Little Kaia Belle lived only 34 days. She died of a congenital heart defect.

Here's what her mother writes: "Kaia, I miss you more than words could ever explain. I can't believe how much our lives have changed because of you. And I know that your lifetime of work was done in only 34 days, and then you were allowed to go Home. I pray that you are flying with the butterflies and playing with the other lions up there..."

OK, in that case, "choked up" doesn't cover it. Remembering you today, Kaia. What a beautiful little girl you were.

The final time was this morning at church when we saw a short video about a soldier who died in 2004 fighting overseas. He was 22. He was married only a few months before his deployment. In the video, his widow and his mother each read a letter they received from him shortly after this death. I cannot fathom the grief of those women, and also the pride.

Sometimes I profess to hate my country. It's said in jest over things like bad maternity leave laws, or the concept of the Tea Party, or so many other little things that irk me. But the truth is, I know what marvelous freedoms I enjoy. To wear and say what I want, to marry whom I want, to decide whether or not I'll work, to know that there is a justice system and law enforcement that works much of the time to protect me. That I can write this very blog with no reason to worry that I'll be censored or prosecuted for speaking my mind. That I can worship God in openness. By no means are things perfect here, but this land is indeed great, and it's thanks in no small part to the soldiers and elected officials who serve us, to those brave men and women who never get to come home, and to all the mothers out there surviving a kind of grief I can only hope I'll never know.

Happy Memorial Day.

Six dates with my husband, anniversary edition

2010-05-28T06:18:00.000-07:00

Four years ago, May 27 was a very hot day. Perfectly sunny. Couldn't ask for better weather for a garden wedding.

I felt so pretty.

And really really happy.

I'm a lucky girl. My husband is kind, responsible, funny, intelligent, hard-working. He vacuums, does the dishes, takes care of our lawn, folds the laundry, picks up. He's an amazing father who takes time to play with Luke, read to him, tell him things. He listens to me when I am crazy. He supports me. He makes me feel pretty. He loves me.

To celebrate our four year anniversary, we both had the day off of work. He bought me flowers in our wedding colors (pink and orange). Gorg.

He gave me chocolate and a skirt and bracelet from a store I like. They were almost just right.... But I did return them. I'm bad, I know. He tried!

After I bought my new skirt, we went to dinner. We tried to get a family photo first. That didn't work out very well.

Trying to coax him up to sit with us. He wasn't having it.

So it was just us two.

That knitted shrug was the one I wore at my wedding! Made by my dear friend and maid of honor, Kelly, who also snapped that family photo for us!

After the picture taking was done, we went to dinner at the Forest Grill, the restaurant of the year. It was wonderful. Especially my entree. It was a vegetarian dish with gnocchi and something green and something drizzly and I don't know WHAT I was putting in my mouth but it was freaking delicious. Dessert was also to die -- a bread pudding with bits of chocolate just mingling around and melting into a gooey, sugary, bread-y, creamy wonderfulness. The only hitch with dinner was that the two glasses of wine I ordered did not cost $9 each as I thought but $17 each. Um, whoops!

After dinner we found a bar with a guy playing live music and we sat and listened and talked before coming home. It was a great anniversary date! I cannot believe four years have gone by. We have our ups and downs, bad times and good times. But I love my husband and our family and our life. I'm very very lucky. I suppose the word is blessed.

I heart Faces -- Week 21 -- Yellow

2010-05-24T16:49:00.000-07:00

First time I'm doing the I Heart Face photo challenge. Fun times.

I snapped this last March in South Carolina. We were so excited to go to his sister's wedding and stay in an ocean-side house. Who knows when I'll get to stay on the ocean again?!And then it looked like this the entire time. EXCEPT for an hour of sunshine that appeared out of nowhere, get this, right in time for the wedding! Nutty eh?

Anyway, the weather sucked, but I sort of love the gray photos. And this one I really love the facial expressions. Give a little baby a plastic beach toy, and boy, you better watch it.

Also I like seeing how small Luke was. A little scoop of a baby.

See more photos featuring yellowy yellow at IHeartFaces.

Plant an herb garden

2010-05-23T05:29:00.000-07:00

I haven't been cooking at home as much as I should or as I like. We have a cafeteria at work, and I've been taking too much advantage of that fact. It's bad for my health and spirit -- really, isn't it a bummer to eat so much cafeteria food? So I need to get back to cooking a few nights a week, ensuring we have a good amount of leftovers. And now I have another really good excuse -- last weekend, I planted my herb garden!

I don't know what the heck I'm doing. Sort of free wheeling it and hoping that a combination of dirt, water and sunshine is enough to sustain these guys. Are there other things I need to know? My friends told me last night that "You can't mess up herbs," and then shared stories about how theirs "never took." Um, what? Level with me -- are they easy or not?!

Mine are all in individual pots, except the dill and thyme, which share a container. I'm also growing basil, cilantro, oregano, Italian parsley and rosemary.

See all the herbs in there? No? Yeah, silly me forgot to get a pic of just the herbs!

I need to get some recipes going! Instead of doing what I'm doing now -- wander into the backyard once a day to snip off a leaf or two of each herb to smell, inhaling deeply. Aaaaaahhhhhh.

Are you growing any herbs this year?

Oilcloth book cover

2010-05-22T05:58:00.000-07:00

Added 6/9: This project was featured as in the Prudent Baby Project Pool! Very cool, thanks Prudent Baby!

___

We really put off our Mother's Day gifts this year. It was mid-day Saturday before we finally decided on a game plan. I had purchased some lovely oilcloth a few weeks back and had finally figured out a use for it. Oilcloth book covers! (From where else but Prudent Baby?) So my husband went to the bookstore and picked up two copies of The Help, which I keep hearing great things about. The idea was that we'd give each mom the book wrapped up in its very own book cover.

The idea fell apart about 11 p.m. that night when after completing one I realized a) I didn't have enough oilcloth for two and b) the first one I made somehow was too small to fit The Help into it. D'oh!

At that point, I threw the towel in and decided to go to bed. I would just keep the book cover for myself. The next day I searched for something that would fit in it, and behold! (Isn't it funny to say Behold!) My Bible fit really well! And honestly, doesn't it actually make more sense to put a Bible in a book cover than some random novel you will likely read once and then sell in a garage sale?

So behold! (again!) my oil cloth book cover.

What do you think? I really wanted a wider ribbon. But first my husband bought me some that was way off
(love you honey!), It was, first of all, not even fabric. So I had to dig out something from my drawer here, and this was all I had. I love the colors together! Overall, really love that my Bible has a cozy new cover. Makes me want to read it more, and that's a good thing.

Happy things

2010-05-19T17:49:00.000-07:00

One of the books in Luke's current rotation is called the "Pout-pout Fish." It's about a depressed fish that can't get over itself and find some joy in life. "I'm a pout-pout fish," he says, "with a pout-pout face, for spreading dreary-wearies all over the place."

I have been a bit of a pout-pout myself lately.

It bothers me.

So I'm dedicating this post to a bunch of random things that make me smile. To remind myself that I too should get over myself and look around and let some joy in.

Just read a lovely post a blog called Brighter Than Sunshine. Written by a woman who seems endlessly hip, it's partially about her and her husband's story of adoption. They are awaiting their Ethiopian daughter. Read this post about all the things this mama wants for her girl. Doesn't that say it all? Also, she is selling aprons to help finance the adoption, which she said will cost $25,000. This link will take you to the store where you can buy one.

What else?

A recipe for Apple-Banana Cupcakes. Like a muffin, but with frosting. I must try these soon.

Speaking of delectable treats, check out this fabric-pattern inspired cake. How freaking cool is that?

When I'm feeling extra pout-pouty, a good place to check in is the Feel Bad Blog. An artist living in Las Vegas or maybe Los Angeles, I'm not sure, started this blog after she lost her job. It's hilarious and done all in graphic illustrations. I love it. Even when it is kind of sad -- I mean, the blog is indeed all about feeling bad -- it is funny. Check it out.

Oh and finally, I must announce. I am a Gleek. I don't even like this song. But I love it on Glee.

Wordless Wednesday 5/19

2010-05-19T04:05:00.000-07:00

Scenes from Flower Day at Eastern Market.

Make-up bags

2010-05-18T17:43:00.000-07:00

Attempt one. Took me all afternoon. Fabrics given to me by my friend Jen. It turned out somewhat functional but far from perfect. The outer fabric was kind of hard to work with. It was fraying terrible by the zipper and I wound up with holes. Also I was hasty when I cut the corners on the bottom and they ended up being uneven. This is a lesson I am slowly learning from sewing: there is no cutting corners. You must take time, measure, pin, recheck everything, and go slowly. That is typically not how I operate in life. Most of the time, I make up my mind (this is the part that can take me forever) and then I GO. I'm learning to focus on the details and take my time.

See? Lop-sided.

Attempt two turned out much better. Used up the scraps from my apron and made another bag, this one a birthday present for my friend Aimee.

I think there might have been a hole somewhere in this one, too. That's one thing I have trouble with -- leaving enough seam allowance. But overall, I was really happy with this!

Then I decided to sew up one for my Mom for Mother's Day. She isn't much of a traveler or a make-up wearer. But I figured anyone can find a use for a cute zipper pouch, and at that point, I had no other ideas. So this is what she got.

Made up of Arts and Scraps fabric finds, so the total cost for this one was basically $2.

I'm going to make myself another one to replace the first attempt. Then of course I will need to buy all new makeup in nice clean packages. The outside of my makeup always gets gunky and then my make-up bags get gunky. Does that happen to everyone, or am I just an even bigger mess than I realize?

Oh, by the way, the tutorial is from, you guessed it, Prudent Baby! I'm kind of obsessed.

10-minute onesie dresses

2010-05-17T18:18:00.000-07:00

I need to have a girl.

Seriously! There are so many cute things to make for girls. Boys, not so much.

But a few weeks ago, I whipped up these "10-minute onesie" dresses from Prudent Baby. Of course, for me, I think the first one took at least an hour, and the second one probably 30 minutes. It's true they're simple though, and fairly easy. And how cute! I'm excited to give these to one of my 13 preggo friends. It's hard to pick who... If you're one of them and want one, you can bribe me with blue corn tortilla chips and white bean hummus from Trader Joe's. I think that combo is now one of the major food groups in this house.

I'll be updating this week with several more projects I've been working on.

What are YOU working on?

Sandy, can't you C?

2010-05-14T18:28:00.000-07:00

Oh little forgotten blog. I've missed you.

Trying to unstick my mind is not easy. In the meantime, I have been sewing.

I'd like to show you all the pretty things I've made...

And I will. Soon.

But I know this blog is fast turning into a gee-look-what-I-made-now dumping place. Not my intention.

So before we to that, let me update a 20 little thing. Imagine!

I started my reading corp volunteering this week. My little preschooler Sandy (named changed to protect the innocent with an oddly-spelled name) was incredibly confidence, squirmy and pleasant. She could spell her oddly-spelled name when I put the letters in front of her all scrambled. She really was one step ahead of me every time I tried to introduce something new to here. Read Mary Had a Little Lamb? Pish-posh tutor! She said the whole thing right along with me. When I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, she knew the storyline and pointed out all the fruits. She really wanted to practice writing her name. I let her. The first letter looked very good. After that, not so much I have no idea how well kids her age are supposed to be able to write. But I felt a little bit like Sandy didn't really need much help. Or maybe my expectations were too low? I don't know. Sandy might not be my regular student anyway; there was some confusion when I arrived about who I was to see.

I'm excited to see where it goes.With Sandy or whoever.

Two other things:: immediately after meeting the woman running the program at my school, a really nice woman about my age, I realized she had lipstick on her teeth. BAD. So we're in the hallway and I'm internally debating whether to tell her, when my boss walks up. Not just my immediate boss, but like THE boss. So now it is the three of us, and she's shaking his hand, and ug, I felt so bad. What would you do in a situation like that?

The other thing: It was my first time in a DPS elementary school. I spent most of it in the library. The room was mostly filled with tables. Only half of the room was lined with shelves for books -- none were in the middle or the room or in the other half. Those shelves, I'd say, where about 35% full. Sad.

Apron!

2010-05-01T04:59:00.000-07:00

I made an apron!

And I did it without a tutorial to follow or a pattern, besides the old raggedy apron I wanted to replace. I just folded it in half length-wise, folded the fabric in half and cut. The straps, the same thing, although I did start with one fabric and then switched when I couldn't flip the tube right-side out easily. I made the first tube too narrow using too stiff a fabric. This red backweight cotton was easier to work with, and I increased the size a little. I think doing it again, I'd make the bottom straps even thicker. I like a big thick strap.

Of course, there are a few little issues. I'm not sure how to best close the ends of the straps. I should have closed one end while sewing, but it didn't dawn on me. Attaching them was also a question, but I did what made sense to me -- folded them into the edges of the hems then then sewed them straight in as I stitched around the sides.

It has a nice double pocket on the front... might be a little hard to see.

For my first apron attempt, I'm pretty pleased!

After I was done, I did find a boatload of free apron tutorials via TipNut.com. So you don't have to freewheel it like me!

April comes to a close

2010-04-30T18:56:00.000-07:00

I made this list of 20 Little Things early in January on a Sunday afternoon. I can't really remember what happened that morning. But somehow by 2 or 3 p.m. that day, I'd managed to find a sliver of time in which my brain was not cluttered, my son was not calling for me, my chores were out-of-sight-out-of-mind, work was a day away. I scribbled down the list quickly, throwing on it all sorts of jumbled dreams and ideas I harbor. Some practical, some purposeful, some intended to teach me something new or bring me an experience I had to that point lacked. I didn't have to think long or hard. It was all right there. Once it was on paper, I felt instantly excited about what this year was going to be.

I still want all those things for myself. It still excites me to picture a life in which they're all realities.

But I'm going to forgive myself right now.

I'm failing the list.

It's OK. It was a moment in time when I made some absurd decry about my life for 12 uncharted months. What the hell did I know then?

I'm not saying I'm giving up or anything. Hell, I plan to plant that herb garden tomorrow. But I am admitting that perhaps I was too lofty. A list of 20 actual events might have been easier. Single-time things that I could scratch off and be done with. But some of the things on that list are daily things. Some weekly. Some came with arbitrarily assigned quotas. Why do I need to write one letter a month, really? What's at the heart of it is I simply like the idea of writing letters and would like to do it more. That's all. Same with prayer and with calling my brothers... They're on the list for a reason, but I am now questioning whether it was smart to set such rigid guidelines for how they're to happen.

Look. I don't know what it is. The spring air? Some serious inbalance in my life? The reality of being a mom with a toddler and a full-time job? But something has had me teetering lately. Fine one moment, practically certifiable the next. I honestly can not tell you what exactly is wrong. Maybe nothing. Maybe I just need to appreciate everything I have more, because I am blessed beyond belief.

I don't want you think I'm coo-coo-la-la-land crazy over here. I'm not. Like I said, much of the time, all is well. But I assume honesty is appreciated. So here's me being honest.

I'm scared to have another kid. It's going to hurt. It's going to be hard to be a mom of two. It might mean I walk away from my career. I can't promise that the child will be healthy; the last one wasn't. Maybe that one was my fault; maybe I'll make the same mistakes unknowingly again. The clock is ticking.

What else? My job. There is a lot I'd love to say about it, but I won't here. The thing I will say is that the thing that drove me, personally, this silly-little-dream that I could be great at what I do... it's hard to access right now. It's not gone, but perhaps buried. I feel sad and purposeless without it.

What else? Being a mom is the most rewarding, wonderful thing in my life. But tonight my son screamed for 10 minutes because I wouldn't give him my bowl at dinner. I thought he wanted my food, and could not solve the equation, until finally, it dawned on me. The fucking bowl. He wanted the f-ing bowl. He delights me more than anything ever, and I love him to the bottom of my heart and back up a thousand times. But also, he tires me. He doesn't stop. Ever. Hearing him say 'Mama' makes my heart do little dances. But also, he says it about 500 times a day. Sometimes -- many times -- for no reason.

What else? My imperfect little brain with all its issues is still floating around in my head, causing trouble. In a cage match with my heart, it wins every time, and my little heart is sitting in the corner more than it should be, trying to puff itself back up.

All these hairy emotional personal icky little issues. They hit the list in a lot of ways. Make me want to eat cookies and pizza instead of fruits and whole grains, and sleep in instead of workout, and watch TV instead of anything else. They turn me inward, where I can stew and feel badly about everything, instead of outward, to productive things like praying or serving others.

I'm no superwoman. I guess that's all I'm saying.

So. I'm laying down an amendment.

If I don't meet these 20 Little Things by the letter, I will continue to try to meet them by their spirit. That's what I really care about anyway.

I certainly didn't make this little list so I could feel bad that I'm failing at it. So this is just an FYI, that I'm changing the game or the rules or whatever. It's my game anyway.

Mother's Day gift guide

2010-04-27T04:56:00.000-07:00

Him: Are there any mothering devices you'd like for Mother's Day?

Me: Like a robot?

Him: I was thinking more like a leash.

Catching up, part 2

2010-04-26T14:24:00.000-07:00

Where did we leave off? Oh, yes.

Grow a fresh herb: Perhaps this Saturday would be a good day to plant my container garden, no? I'm thinking: basil, thyme, rosemary, dill, hmmm, what else? What's easy? If you know, please do tell me!

Hold a dinner party: Yes, check-mark. Full post on the Seinfeld dinner party will be coming soon!

Keep an up-to-date calendar. Oh my. MAJOR fail. Ultimate fail. Besides water, probably my weakest link. I am going to schedule a 30 minute catch-up for this Thursday. I don't care when Thursday, but at some point that day, I'll get it back on track.

Make something crafty: I've already completed this of course, but that hasn't stopped me from continuing to craft! Full post coming this week about my attempt to make a make-up bag, and a few new DIY pocket bibs! Also, if I finish it, an apron. I just cut the fabric last night.

Read 25 books. Eee. This is another black hole. I have started so many. But you know, I do think I will have one to say I finished later this week. I'm reading a book about not taking yourself too seriously as a mom. It's refreshing, and perhaps just what I needed to chill me out.

Run a 10K. Crickets! I did have my eyes on a 10K that's coming up this weekend, but it turns out I have to work Sunday. So I'm back at zero. My goal: scan the next few months and see what's coming up. I believe there actually might be a perfect solution -- a 10K the goes right by my house!

Set aside 30 minutes per week for prayer, This is getting embarrassing! Do my middle-of-the-night prayers count? Probably not. So. Listen up. I will be getting up at 5:50 tomorrow. I will pray until 6:20. It's said. It's done. If you have someone for me to pray for, leave me a comment.

Take Luke to the beach. I have my eyes on July 1. We'll have to see if the weather cooperates.

Take more videos of Luke. I took one on my phone a few days ago of him counting to 20! He skips many numbers and always ends up saying, "18, 19, 20, 18! Twenty and the last 18 are both yelled. If I can figure out a way, I'll post it here soon.

Write one letter and mail it each month. I'm going to write a company I love to tell them how much I love them. People don't do that enough anymore.

Write something not for work. A little deflated here after the big-time magazine didn't bite on any of my story ideas. But I am also boasted by their interest alone. I have a few ideas kicking around in there.

Today I sat and watched Luke play at the park, and for the first time in a long time, I felt genuinely inspired. Not by any idea in particular, but just simply inspired. Like I was noticing things, breathing in the world, not simply stewing in some mix of anxiety or fear or worry. Moved to see the wind blowing in the trees, energized by the realization that there are characters and words and story ideas in there. I should get them out onto paper sometime.

Catching up

2010-04-24T14:22:00.000-07:00

Ha! I make a post saying I'm back and then take off another few days.

Forgive me. This month is just nutso insane. Lots going on. I'll stop now and get on with it.

Since I have a lot of catching up to do, I'm going to do a little run through the list. Shall we?

Bake sourdough bread: Nope, sorry. I am saving this for the fall. Won't it be nice when the first chill hits the air to take to the kitchen and bake up a loaf of sourdough? To serve with a big pot of soup? Mmmm. Yes, I will save this for sure.

Call my brothers once a month: Talked to Scott today! We had lots to talk about. He put an offer in on a condo. And he got himself a puppy! Ozzie... do you not love him?

Do a random act of kindness: Um, wow. Just realized my day is tomorrow! I'll be uber busy with the March for Babies. We'll see what I can come up with.

Do something service related: See above! I think raising money for the March of Dimes counts! Right?

Drink more water: Oh my goodness. How amazingly I'm failing at this one! I just am not drinking water at all. Barely a sip. What happened? I don't know! Well, most likely, I simply got lazy. The result is I've been more tired and grumpy feeling all month. Can I really blame that on lack of water? I think so! It's a subtle difference, but drinking a good amount of water just makes everything work better. My mind, my body, my sleep, everything.

Eat right (more whole grains, less meat, more fruits and veggies): Doing OK. Not great. Social events make eating right tough. Being tired and grumpy makes the desire to cook wane. The result: too much eating out and not taking my lunch to work with me. But I'm please to report I did try: at the Frozen Four, I walked around the concourse until I found a vendor that sold veggie burgers. The funny part is that I am pretty sure they still served me a cheeseburger. But I did try! I also ordered veggie creole at my husband's birthday dinner, bypassing many many tempting dishes with andoielle sausage. Mmmmm sausage. This morning, at breakfast out with friends, I ordered a vegan tostada. So there! I'm trying! The one area I could really stand to work on is fruit. Surprising because I love fruit. So why am I barely eating any?

Establish a 6 a.m. workout routine: Boooo! Since Jazzercise, this hasn't happened. Time to get back on the train. I am buying a four-month membership to Jazzercise. That'll do the trick.

Fast once per quarter: Maybe I should set a date.

Go on six dates with the hubby man: Check mark! We had a great time last weekend at his surprise 30th birthday party. Most of it was a solo date. First, I took him to the gun range. I know it's weird, but he's been having a mimi mid-life crisis lately about his lack of "life experiences," among them, shooting a gun. So we bought a round of bullets and rented him a 9mm. I have never felt more out of place anywhere in my life (well, except maybe all of middle school). After that, we had dinner with family and friends at his favorite restaurant, then a drink with a couple more friends before heading out to see Jerry Seinfeld at the Fox Theatre. Best part of the show: a lengthy bit about Pop-tarts. Worst part: when the guy behind us commented to his friend how the theatre might be a terrorist target because of "all the Jews there."

Go to breakfast with friends once a month: It's possible I did two this month! Once with my friend Jen, followed by a refreshing 30 minute walk. And this morning with one of my 13 pregnant friends, followed by a fabric shopping trip. I love Saturday mornings.

OK, we'll do the next 10 tomorrow!

Oh, hello

2010-04-19T18:25:00.000-07:00

Oh, hi.

What's that?

Oh yes.

I've been sort of quiet lately, eh?

My mind has been a little lost in the clouds. Big, thundering, sometimes stormy clouds. Not entirely stormy. Sometimes really soft, light-as-a-feather clouds that that make you want to curl up for a nap.

In other words, I've been busy. Physically busy. Mentally drained. My social calendar has been overflowing. Lots o' fun to be had. Not much time for stopping to catch my breath. And to blog.

Or to stick to my hopes for myself. I could list off all thing little things I have been letting slip right outta my life, but I don't want to beat myself up anymore.

It's OK to feel a little lost in the clouds sometimes. It happens.

Anyhoo. I do want to get back on track a bit. Shake off the mist.

So here I am...

How've ya been?

Dinner party

2010-04-06T11:33:00.000-07:00

The menu is set. The guests are invited. The date: this Friday.

Crap!

I have way too much to take care of before then!

But, it's going to be OK. The menu is manageable.

Want to hear it?

For pre-dinner snackage: pretzels, Junior Mints, Jujy Fruits, and salsa (with chips).

The dinner: A "Big" salad, a loaf of marble rye, Mulligatawny (an Indian curry soup), paella (with chorizo, shrimp and chicken).

Dessert: A cinnamon babka, black and white cookies, and mini-Snickers on forks.

So, if that's the menu, can you guess the theme?

Happy Easter!

2010-04-04T18:22:00.000-07:00

Two pictures from our trip to Montreal last summer that scream Easter to me.

And two quotes....

"Easter is not a time for groping through dusty, musty tomes or tombs to disprove spontaneous generation or even to prove life eternal. It is a day to fan the ashes of dead hope, a day to banish doubts and seek the slopes where the sun is rising, to revel in the faith which transports us out of ourselves and the dead past into the vast and inviting unknown. ~Author unknown, as quoted in the Lewiston Tribune

And he departed from our sight that we might return to our heart, and there find Him. For He departed, and behold, He is here. ~St Augustine

Pizza Fridays

2010-04-02T11:06:00.000-07:00

I crave food traditions. You know -- we always eat pot roast on Sunday, or tacos on Tuesday, or leftovers on Saturday. Waffles on Sunday. You get the idea.

We didn't have any in my house growing up. I'd like Luke to have that.

But there are issues. First, I love to try new recipes and dishes. I have trouble committing to any recipe ever. But the bigger problem is that we only have dinner as a family of three on the weekend, and often then we have plans. So it's me and the little dude most nights. And as anyone who watches a toddler can tell you, it's hard to stay fast to plans when you're watching them solo.

But lately, my husband has had Fridays off. And so, "Pizza Fridays" was born.

Why pizza? Well, duh, it's cheese, it's dough, it's delish. I've been day-dreaming about making my own since I opened the fan-flipping-tastic Kitchen Aid stand mixer Santa brought me for Christmas. And with my desire to eat more whole grains, I've been scouting out recipes and advice for baking with whole wheat flours. Including pizza dough.

But it wasn't until I found this blog post that I felt like I knew what might turn the dense, heavy dough I'd been making into something that didn't taste like health food. That's where I learned about vital wheat gluten, which makes whole wheat flour less, well, dense and heavy. How, I don't know. I'm no molecular biologist. But it does seem to work.

After a few weeks of attempts -- including one in which my friend Aimee willingly scarfed down a totally cardboard-y pie with me, sorry Aimee -- I've fine-tuned to get to something I'm pretty happy with.

The base recipe is from that blog, bread-and-honey.blogspot.com. (BTW, that's a very cool food blog written by the kind of girl I always wish would be my friend but who would probably be too cool for me in real life.) Anyway, here's what you're working with.

1 cup of water
2 cups whole wheat flour
1 cup white flour
2 tbsp. vital wheat gluten
1 1/2 tbsp. honey
1 tsp. salt
1 packet of instant yeast
2 tbsp. olive oil

I use white whole wheat flour. It's less wheaty. But still somehow a "whole" grain. Don't ask me how these things work.

This time around, my other cup was actually white cake flour, which is finer than regular all-purpose. I would try all-purpose first.

A few things to note: pizza dough recipes tend to call for "barely warm" to "warm" water. I've had better results when going with standard warm, almost hot water. "Barely warm" doesn't cut it for me. I also like to run hot water over my mixing bowl for a minute or two to get that warm, too.

Add the water to the warmed bowl. Mix in the honey and olive oil. Then add the package of yeast. I let it sit about 10 minutes. I first did a minute or two thinking that was enough. No dice!

Sift together the flours and gluten in another bowl. Once the yeast is foamy, start adding the flour mixture to the bowl about one cup at a time. Stir on a low speed, using the hook attachment if you're using a KitchenAid, until it is wet. Then add more. Don't add too much at once! Keep adding slowly. You shouldn't need all of the flour mixture. You want it to come together but still be sticky and wet. Mixing should take a few minutes. You want to work it a bit.

With floured hands, transfer the dough to an oiled bowl.

To help it rise, I place the bowl on a wire rack over a pan of hot water. See?

It hasn't been warm out yet while I've baked, so this has helped but the atmosphere nice and humid.

I also cover it with a slightly damp (with warm water) dish towel. Whether you wet it or not, you want to cover it. And then let it rest for an hour.

Meanwhile, take photos of the nearest cutie who is pestering you as you cook.

Luke wants pizza in his belly!

After an hour, it should have doubled in size. Check it out. If it has, get ready for some fun, because you now get to punch that sucker down. Poooph! Good times.

Here's what it looks like after it doubles.

Once you've punched, let it sit for another 10 minutes. Meanwhile, heat your oven as hot as you can. Well, OK, maybe not that hot. Going up to 500 frightens me. But I did do 450 I think.

If you have a pizza stone, congratulate yourself. I do not. I need to get one. I've been going back and forth trying to figure out what is better -- to pre-bake my crust or not. This week I opted not to. I think next time, I'll pre-bake again. I just don't like a floppy crust. Perhaps it's personal preference. My husband liked it fine this way.

So anyway, where were we? Ah yes. Roll out the dough onto a floured surface. Stretch it out into a circle. I used a rolling pin, but I'm not sure that's the best thing for the dough.

Place it on your pan, and if you're going to pre-bake, I'd do five or six minutes. If not, just load it up with pizza sauce (I use the kind of Trader Joe's and add extra spices to it). Then cover with your cheese and toppings of choice. We did half plain mozzerella and the other half with cheese, green peppers and mushrooms.

Bake 12-15 minutes total.

Then congratulate yourself for being so amazing.

Mmmm.... Pizza Fridays. I like you.

Mid-fast

2010-03-31T11:04:00.000-07:00

My next-door neighbors moved out last weekend. I mentioned that in another post. I looked at their house last night and choked up a bit. Why? Well, it bums me out that Luke will no longer have a playmate right next door; their son was two months older. I know that we'll still get the boys together, but it won't be the same. It just won't be.

But it's more than just that. It's also more than the fact that they were incredibly nice, and that they always had whatever it was we needed to borrow (a really tall ladder, an extra set of hands to move a couch, lemon pepper, a single egg).

Part of why it is difficult for me to see them go is dealing with the unknown of who will move in.

I can't control that. I can't control if they will be equally nice, or whether they'll be close to us in age. I don't know that they'll take good care of the house, like our previous neighbors did. I don't know that they won't throw loud parties. I can't control if they have yippy dogs. Or an RV that they'll want to park in the front yard.

This is, I'm sure, the kind of swallow stuff everyone worries about when they get new neighbors. We hope they are nice, friendly, upstanding, all of that. But we also hope that their habits and lifestyle don't infringe on our own too badly.

Maybe some people worry about that less than others. As I walked around the block last night with Luke, for some reason, something dawned on me that hasn't in some time: on the scale of control freaks, I can rank fairly high.

It makes me anxious when I don't get to have my way. To choose my own path. To set the limits. To have the last word. I want to be in control not just of myself, but of the environment all around me.

I say all this now because it has more to do with my reaction to my neighbors leaving. It is likely also the root reason I have held off on once-a-quarter fast until today.

I don't like giving up control, even of what food I put into my mouth. Not to anyone -- including God.

To say this is standing in the way of my spiritual development is an understatement. It is THE reason I fail to grow. It is the wall standing between me and an authentic relationship with our creator. I just don't want to let anyone besides myself be in charge.

And so. I don't pray. Why pray about something, when I can just take care of it on my own? Even if I can't... I can try! And so. I haven't, until today, fasted.

I tried a few times. There was last week. Then yesterday, I tried again. I decided first of all, that coffee is OK. Because I don't want to give that part of control over to God. Then I thought I better take a vitamin. The problem with that is you're not supposed to take them on an empty stomach. And so within 15 minutes, I was nauseous. And cramming handfuls of cereal into my mouth. Fast, over.

Then came the light bulb last night: as I watched my son bang a long stick into a really tall tree, I thought, Damn, I can be such a control junkie. Was it because he'd strayed just one step off the sidewalk, breaking our walk rule? I don't know. I wish I had some crystal-clear moment to share. All I know is the thought came, and it stuck.

I know God is gracious. He gets me. He forgives me. I do love him. I do want to learn to depend on him. So today, I'm trying again.

So far, so good. I did have my coffee. Other than that, nothing but water. It's almost 2 p.m., and I'm famished. Dizzy, too. It's been a long time since I've felt real hunger. This is probably not even it.

A phrase I read in Richard Foster's book The Celebration of Discipline keeps running through my mind. It was something like, "The stomach is like a spoiled brat. You can't give in to it whenever it wants something." I keep daydreaming of food, especially now that I'm at home. It's hard not to give and go raid the pantry.

But if my stomach is a spoiled brat, it's because I am one, too. The bossy kind, who thinks she knows it all and should be in charge.

In total control.

It's just an 18-hour-fast.

But it feels like I'm opening up my hands a little, palms facing figuratively up to the sky. Give it to God.

Today, I'm trying to let someone else be in charge.