The Dream Life

Field trip lunches

My usual method for taking lunch to work is to grab something (granola bar) as I'm passing through the kitchen on my way out the door and pop it into my purse, which always seems like a good idea in the morning because I'm never hungry when I first wake up, but doesn't seem like such a great idea at 1 p.m. after toning class when I am hungry.
This morning, I changed things up. We had massive amounts of fruit salad left over from yesterday and I decided to take some of that for lunch. The only Tupperware bowl I could find that had a lid was pretty large but I figured, hey, it's fruit salad, so I loaded it up. I also spied a few pimento cheese biscuits in the fridge so I wrapped them up and put everything in a grocery sack.
Walking across the parking lot with my giant lunch bag, I was reminded of elementary school field trips. On regular school days I usually ate the cafeteria food but on field trip days, when a sack lunch was required, I had some favorite foods that always found their way into my bag. I'm not sure what it was about field trips, but they meant big crazy lunches. A field trip was license to pack completely decadent foods, enough to live on for a few days if the bus should break down leaving the whole class stranded on the side of the highway somewhere.
My field trip lunches were comprised of
a. a sandwich - usually peanut butter and pickle or bologna and mayo on whole wheat bread

b. a crunchy side - Munchos, Doritos, or those potato sticks that came in a can

c. a sweet - Swiss Cake Rolls were a favorite

d. a pop - usually a Crush or Dr. Pepper, frozen the night before then wrapped in aluminum foil

e. a random piece of fruit - usually an orange

So, even though my lunch today looked large, and even though it involved biscuits, it was definitely healthier than a field trip lunch.

After brunch

Windy, rainy Sunday afternoon, Hippies on tv, Woody and I are cuddled up on the couch. The house is clean and we're not worried about doing anything. He had to go out at 2:30 this morning and I never did get back to sleep all the way, so we're tired and happy to be sitting still (or, in his case, stretched out sleeping.)
Yesterday was my grandmother's birthday, so my family had a dinner last night.

Today, Tracy and I made a Mother's Day brunch for my mom and sister in law and family. We had donut holes and pimento cheese biscuits and fruit and hash brown casserole. They rolled in from the church they all attend, where a downed tree had knocked out their power and blocked their usual route home, and we ate food and drank coffees and teas and listened to music.

My original idea for this afternoon involved planting, but the weather has brought me the gift of rest and in a couple of hours, brunch leftovers will provide dinner.
Here's to mothers of all kinds, shapes and sizes -- the ones with children and the ones without. I hope your afternoons are just as pleasurable.

A cookie fairy visited me

Wrestling* with my usual with food issues this week (I’m so bored of them, as I’m sure you are, but what happened was, I decided to go off sugar again then ate ice cream last night that I didn’t even want just so I could taste it, thus choosing temporary taste bud pleasure over the lasting pleasure of health for, like, the twenty million billionth time), I decided this morning that I wouldn’t eat sweets unless someone gave them to me. In other words, I wouldn’t purchase desserts for myself or request that anyone else purchase them for me. I wouldn’t go waltzing into the kitchen at 8 o’clock at night and eat a spoonful of hot fudge sauce just because I wanted it, but if someone walked up to me and said, here, surprise, have this delicious piece of cake, then I would enjoy it fully. This way, I thought, I would know that I was eating what the universe (or my higher self, or my spirit guides) wanted me to eat. I would know that I wasn’t going to live the rest of my life with no sweets, I was just going to have to wait for the universe to gift them to me. I thought about this deal on my way to work and shook my own hand (figuratively) and went about my day. At about 4 o’clock this afternoon, I went down the hall to check on something, and when I came back, there was a cookie on my desk. I am not lying. There was an actual cookie on my actual desk, and it was chocolate chip.
The student who works in my office said, “You were left a cookie.”
“Who left me a cookie?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Someone.”
Obviously, this was a sign that my plan is a good one.
The cookie was also a good one.

*This is not a good word. Let’s say that I was negotiating with my food issues.

Gettin' back to where I once belonged

Since the first time I met Tracy's friend Jeff, I've wanted to go hear his band (I feel compelled to mention that as much as I deeply, deeply love the John Hughes contributions to film, when I watch Sixteen Candles as an adult, I am stunned by the character of Long Duk Dong, which has to be one of the most offensive presentations of Asian stereotype ever. This is just an aside, and I'm certainly not blaming the band for that...so, anyway.) I've wanted to hear them for a long time. First of all, I just really like Jeff a lot and second of all, they are an 80's cover band. They are, in fact, Lexington's premiere 80's band.
They play frequently at an Irish bar that's near our house and I routinely check their website to see when they're playing and I suggest that we go, but then we do whatever else we have to do and by the time 9 p.m. rolls around, we are either too exhausted or already wearing pajamas or actually in bed. Tracy doesn't drink at all and I drink alcohol about three times a year, so we just don't find ourselves in bars very often (even though I like bars for the darkness, the neon signs, the appetizers and the people watching.)
But last night, we went on a date.
Chad and Chloe graciously offered to take us out to thank us for a recent babysitting gig and even though we feel no thanks are necessary for that, and even though we really wanted to pay our own way, we were thrilled to go out as adults and have a time together. We knew we would go to Nagasaki. (Yes, I know that fish are not vegetables. The fact that I have allowed a little bit of fish back into my diet is the subject of another post) then we would do something fun like Karaoke or bowling or some such thing. So, of course, I checked the Long Duk Dong schedule, and they were playing.
Last night we headed out to Nagasaki and had a great meal.

(Although, I didn't pay attention to what I was doing and ordered up a bunch of expensive rolls. Sorry, Chad and Chloe), then, we actually did a little grocery shopping. I'm not lying. We needed some essentials so we stopped by Fresh Market and got them. Then, we went to O'Neill's. The timing was actually perfect. We got there just before the band was set to go on. The place was pretty well packed, but we found a table. The bartender immediately brought us a sample shot of Ale8 and Knobb Creek slushie. Since, like Tracy, my brother doesn't drink, and my sister in law doesn't do bourbon, I was the only taker. I didn't even drink all of it (and it was a shot), but that wasn't because it didn't taste delicious. This is all just to say that we aren't your typical partiers.
But, we sure did have fun.

The show began with 80's videos - some that I'd forgotten about but love like the Eurythmics Here Comes the Rain Again-and that immediately lulled me into an 80's reverie that made me feel really weird in a really good way. Then the band came on with a light show and they were so good. The thing that makes them so good is that they are a great band. They aren't getting by on a gimmick. They are seriously good musicians and can genuinely deliver the songs they play and the songs they play are - you know - the songs that people of a certain age remember in a certain way.
As Chloe put it, "I feel like I'm in my bathroom, there's a few inches of snow on the ground, and I'm hot rolling my bangs."
Exactly.
The crowd was a mix of people who were in their twenties during the 80's, people who were in their teens during the 80's, and people who were little bitty babies during the 80's, and we all grooved on the 80's vibe, remembering our memories and singing along. As I watched the dancing that was going on next to the stage, I saw for the first time in a long time, dancing that I know how to do. You know, high school dance dancing. I can't express how happy that made me. It was good, good stuff.
We left by 11 so that Chad and Chloe could relieve their sitter, so Tracy and I were actually home and in bed at a reasonable hour.
Next time, I'm going early, and getting a table up front.

Candy conversation

Lately I've been wondering, if someone were to give me a fantasy basket of candy filled with my very favorite candies of all time, what would be in it?
I’ve decided that in my basket would be Reese’s Cups, Snickers bars, Brach's Butterscotch, Twizzlers, M&Ms, Raisinets and Chunkys.
Yes, this is the sort of thought that I have but remember, it’s only a thought. I’m not actually eating the fantasy basket of candy. The fantasy basket of candy doesn’t actually exist and therefore, it can be as big and fabulous and chocolatey as I want it to be without adding one inch to my waistline.
Tonight, I asked Tracy what his fantasy basket would include and was surprised to hear his enthusiastic answer, Smoothies. I’d never even heard of them but it turns out, they’re a favorite of Tracy’s. Also in his basket are Paydays and Teaberry gum.
After having this candy conversation, we both headed back out, me to photograph an event at work and fill up my car with gas, he to Home Depot and Walgreen’s. I asked him to pick up a few packs of Kleenex for me since I’m working tomorrow night and Saturday too, my allergies have kicked up, and I need to have my own personal Kleenex supply while I’m running from event to event.
We reconvened and he presented me with my Kleenex and this.

A Chunky! I didn’t know they were still being made, but they are. Maybe it won’t hurt to eat this one little piece of the fantasy basket.

Birthday cakery

Thursday was my mom's birthday, so we had dinner for her tonight at my grandmother's house. It was a big delicious dinner comprised of a variety of foods including radish roses, cole slaw, baked ziti and biscuits. I made German Chocolate Cake and although there were moments when I worried about (it looked a little floppy coming out of the oven) it turned out fine.

I always assumed that German Chocolate Cake was somehow German, but that turns out not to be the case at all. A man named Sam German created a chocolate baking bar for Baker's Chocolate Company in 1852 and it was named in his honor. As often happens with 's, that part was dropped somewhere along the way. It was a Texas newspaper that first published a recipe for the cake in 1957.
Yes, sometimes I research cake.

In search of pancakes

There was no International House of Pancakes in the town where I grew up. Somehow, though, I knew about IHOP. I'd heard about it, perhaps had seen one on a vacation. In my head, the IHOP was a fancy and fabulous sort of place - dark wood paneling, golden light fixtures, women in crinolines and braids serving plates and plates and stacks and stacks of exotic cakes o' pan. It was the word "International" that really did it for me.
There was a restaurant in Lexington called the Magic Pan that sold crepes, and this probably informed my take on IHOP as well. I only went to the Magic Pan a couple of times and for very special occasions (my best friend's birthday, that sort of thing) but I found it to be a place that lived up to its name with magicocity.
Tracy's been out of town for the past three days. He got home last night and before he fell into sleep, he expressed an interest in pancakes for breakfast. We never make pancakes at home because we don't have a griddle (and maybe you can make skittle pancakes work - my mom and grandmother can do that - but I can't), which means that to satisfy a pancake craving, we have to venture out.
The problem with pancakes on Saturday morning is that everyone wants pancakes on Saturday morning and even though IHOP is not the dark and elegant temple of exotic delights that I once believed it to be, it does a big business. It does a people-standing-around-in-the-parking-lot business, and it's not a scenic parking lot. It's not the sort of place that welcomes you to sit down and soak up the scenery (unless your idea of pleasant scenery includes car dealerships and the Dairy Queen.)
Tracy's first idea was Cracker Barrel, which also tends to be crowded on the weekends, but Cracker Barrel does not do chocolate chip pancakes and my feeling is, if I'm going to ride the blood sugar roller coaster by starting off my day with a big stack of dessert - I'd just as soon go ahead and include chocolate in that. IHOP does do chocolate chip, so I wanted to at least drive by there first. They also do my favorite companion for chocolate chip pancakes, old fashioned shredded potato hashbrowns (because you need some salty to soak up all that sweet.)
Winchell's, I must add, makes excellent chocolate chip pancakes, but they're not a regular menu item. They just show up on the specials board when you least expect them. And the very best chocolate chip pancakes are at Pancake Pantry but Gatlinburg is sort of a far drive for breakfast.
So, we went to IHOP, but we weren't early enough. There were already cars lined around the building letting people out to go stand in line. We headed to the Cracker Barrel where we found a 35 minute wait. "Does Bob Evans have pancakes?" I asked.
"Surely, Bob Evans has pancakes," Tracy said.
But we still don't know for sure because we didn't even make it inside.
There was a pancake frenzy this morning.
There was a pancake stampede.
We ended up at Perkins where Tracy got his short stack and I got eggs benedict without the Canadian bacon and a chocolate chip muffin.
I guess I'm just going to have to buy a griddle.

Carrot cake

Since today is Tracy’s actual birthday, we're having dinner at my parents' house and I made his favorite carrot cake. This is a really dense, moist cake. If carrot cake is your thing, I'm pretty sure you'll like this one. You could put nuts in it, too, but why would you do that? I did give in and put a few around the edge.

Carrot Cake

6 cups grated carrots
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup golden raisins
splash rum
4 eggs
1 1/2 cups white sugar
1 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons vanilla extract
1 cup crushed pineapple, drained
3 cups all-purpose flour
1 1/2 teaspoons baking soda
1 teaspoon salt
4 teaspoons ground cinnamon

In a small bowl, drain pineapple juice, add a dash of rum, pour in raisins.

In a medium bowl, combine grated carrots and brown sugar. Set aside for 60 minutes, then stir in raisins.

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease and flour two 10 inch cake pans.

In a large bowl, beat eggs until light. Gradually beat in the white sugar, oil and vanilla. Stir in the pineapple. Combine the flour, baking soda, salt and cinnamon, stir into the wet mixture until absorbed. Finally stir in the carrot mixture, straining out the liquid as you go. Pour evenly into the prepared pans.

Bake for 45 to 50 minutes in the preheated oven, until cake tests done with a toothpick. Cool for 10 minutes before removing from pan. When completely cooled, frost with cream cheese frosting.

(3 - 8” rounds instead of the recommended 2 - 10” rounds will shorten the bake time to about 30-45 mins.)

Cream Cheese Frosting

2 (8 ounce) packages cream cheese, softened
1/2 cup butter, softened
2 cups sifted confectioners' sugar
1 teaspoon vanilla extract

In a medium bowl, cream together the cream cheese and butter. Mix in the vanilla, then gradually stir in the confectioners' sugar. Store in the refrigerator after use.

Dessert advice to local readers

I slipped back into sugar eating recently, as to appropriately celebrate Tracy’s birthday, and I made a couple of discoveries. The first was a chocolate torte from A.P. Roots that Tracy’s sister got for his party. It is rich and dense the way I like my chocolate to be, and I'm glad to know where it is should I need an emergency piece.
The other was Caramanda’s on Southland Drive. We have walked and driven by a thousand times, but I’d never been particularly compelled to go in because I generally don’t like bakery cakes (too dry). On Monday, however, we walked by Caramanda’s and glanced in at a case full of cupcakes that we couldn’t pass up. Tracy got the carrot cake and I got the red velvet. Both were delicious and the cake was actually moist. The red velvet cupcake also had edible glitter sprinkled on top, so they get extra points for that.

I’m staying on the sugar train through the weekend so that I can eat peanut butter eggs and Cadbury crème eggs and homemade carrot cake and other Easter delights, then I’ll try another bit of sugar denial.
This seems to be a workable plan for me and food—stretches of not eating something, then allowing myself to eat it again—then going back off. Of course the whole idea of “allowing” and “denying” food is, in and of itself, unhealthy, so let’s just say that I enjoy sugared and non-sugared passages of time.

Kicking habits

I gave up caffeine this week.
I decided to quit it in preparation for Reiki attunement, but there are a lot of good reasons to kick it, like imbalances in the nervous and endocrine systems, elevated stress hormones, hypoglycemia and increased appetite, blood sugar spikes and dips.
I’m also not eating chocolate, or any sugar this week, and I’m still not eating meat, so I really sort of the thought the caffeine would be no big deal. I expected to have a headache for a day, maybe two.
The truth is, I’ve never really accepted the fact that caffeine is a drug and even though my first nonnegotiable action of the day for years and years of my life has been to make a pot of coffee, I never thought of myself as addicted to caffeine. Coffee for me has always been this warm flavorful friend, a cup of comfort, but I never put it into the same category with things like french fries and and hot fudge - the foods I knew I misused and abused.
But even when I’ve done cleanses, I’ve refused to give up my coffee, which should have told me something, but didn’t.
I was in huge coffee denial.
I told myself that caffeine was a health problem for people who had five, six cups a day, not someone like me who has a couple of cups in the morning, maybe one in the afternoon if it’s a difficult day...oh and iced tea with every restaurant meal.
And perhaps I haven’t been consuming enough caffeine to bring about severe body issues, but what I’m realizing today is that I have been seriously dependent on caffeine.
My usual low energy level has reached an all time low without those artificial spikes to keep me going. I did have a pretty bad headache on Wednesday. Today it’s milder, but my whole head feels foggy and weird.
I've had all the typical drug addict thoughts today, but despite how unpleasant this withdrawal process is, it makes me feel hopeful.
Knowing that I have, indeed, been physically addicted to caffeine makes me think I’ll feel worlds better when it’s completely out of my system.
Either that or I’m going to have to start sleeping about 20 hours a night.

Sacred life: Family dinner

Tracy and I ran errands this morning (including dropping Woody off at the groomer) and had lunch at the Mouse Trap then I came home and took a salt lamp rest (because I can't really take naps) then we went over to my parents' house.
Before we went, I was super tired, but when we got there, the house was so pretty and there were tulips and pink candles on the table and then my brother's family arrived and the nieces were both dressed in their finest and Ava ran in and handed me a present with a big smile on her face.
My mom made an array of my favorite foods - including beets and ambrosia salad (yes, a lot of my favorite foods include sugar) and we had such a nice time.

After dinner, the girls and went home but Tracy and I stayed for a while and talked with my parents and grandmother. It was a nice time, a really good nice time. We talked about the usual sorts of strange and crazy things that we always talk about ranging from strippers to Native American burial grounds to Pauline's to what would happen to New York City if humans suddenly ceased to exist.
I love that I am from the family I'm from, and I love that my brother and I both found partners who are truly full-fledged members of my family and embrace it with all of its beautiful weirdness.

So that was how I connected with spirit today - by hanging around with my people and accepting the love that goes into one of these birthday celebrations that my parents throw for us.
It's not a bad way to get grounded.

This post is a day early for Sacred Sunday, but it's close.

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Tracy and I stayed up late on Thursday night. We did watch Say Anything and that sparked conversations that went on until the wee hours while Woody smacked his mouth and rustled and sighed and wished that we would just be quiet before he finally gave up and fell asleep.
So I was tired yesterday and walked around with a dirty-hair pony tail, even though it was my birthday, and really thought quite a lot about just coming home and going to bed, but that’s not what I did.
I changed clothes instead and we went out to dinner at Natasha’s.

It was a lovely meal and a good place to be. We had a view of Main Street as the sun went down and sat beneath my favorite stained glass.

All day I was showered with gifts and surprises and cards and gestures and even a singing telegram. (Your personal thank you's are coming and heartfelt, but now please accept this group thank you and know how deeply it touches me -- all of the kind wishes.)
Back at home, Tracy gave me his presents - a very cool wooden village on garden stakes for the yard and a salt lamp.

A salt lamp, I'm so happy to finally have one. As I type, it sits glowing beside me, releasing negative ions into the air, contributing to my well being.
I tried to watch Sixteen Candles with him last night, but I feel asleep at the dance -- right about the time the freshman boys were lined up to see the female underwear.
This morning, I'm still tired, but Woody has an appointment with some nail clippers and a bottle of shampoo, I have cupcakes to buy, and tonight the celebrations will continue at my parents' house.
I'm grateful for my life and all of you who are in it.

Chocolate overload

I love Valentine’s Day, not the commercial one with the expensive diamonds and sweeping romance and expectations that no mortal could live up to– the other one that we just invent as we go along.
It's not that I don't love the pink stuff and the hearts because of course, of course, I do,

but I believe in keeping V-Day low key and letting it unfold naturally. I don’t expect it to be perfect or big, I just expect it to be wonderful (which is what I expect of every day) and it always is.
Sometimes we tell ourselves that love has limits, but that's not true. Love is vast. There is so much more than enough love to go around in this world – there is as much of it as we could ever need and more – and it belongs to everyone – not just couples – everyone.
To me, that's what this day is about - focusing on love in all of its forms, remembering that everything else is illusion, dropping everything else for a couple of minutes and letting the heart chakra do its thing.
Rachel brought heart collages to KaPow! today and we got to see Sarah’s sweet boy Tom all decked out in a little red outfit.
This week was particularly busy for me and my household so the kitchen is kind of a wreck and things just aren’t as sparkling as I’d like them to be and dinner tonight was pasta with sauce from a jar, but I did make homemade peanut butter cups.

(They're super easy - just smoosh together some natural peanut butter, confectioner's sugar, a little bit of butter, a dash of salt. In another bowl melt some chocolate chips and candy bar pieces with a little bit more peanut butter.

From the label: Divine chocolate is made only with the finest quality Fairtrade cocoa beans from Kuapa KoKoo, a cooperative of smallholder farmers in Ghana. The cocoa is grown in the shade of the tropical rainforest, and slowly fermented and dried in the sun by the farmers, who take great pride in the chocolate company they co-own. Choosing delicious Divine gives you guaranteed pleasure, and the farmers a guaranteed fair deal, as well as the chance to invest in a better future - that's good business.

Coat the bottom of cupcakes liners with some chocolate, blob on some of the peanut butter mixture, top with more chocolate, then some valentine sprinkles. Pop them in the fridge until they set up.)
They were pretty tasty. In fact, we’re not done tasting them because who eats just one peanut butter cup? No one, that’s who.

Now I'm trying to convince Tracy to watch Pretty in Pink or Say Anything with me because on the inside, I’m roughly 16 years old.

How to have a perfect day

Wake up way too early for a Saturday morning but get out of bed anyway. Drink coffee with half and half then take a long, hot shower.
Get an early start on your errands and realize, when you step on to the porch, that although it's windy and chilly, the sky is blue and for the first time in what seems like many, many years, the sun is out.

Fill up your gas tank, climb into your car and switch on your new Saturday Errand playlist that begins with Escape (The Pina Colada Song) then moves into Where is my Mind and The Kid is Hot Tonight.
Arrive at Michaels to see that the parking lot is empty. Buy markers and a paper and a basket to put them in so that your niece can have her own stash of art supplies at your house. Go next door to the pet store and stock up on your pug's favorite peanut butter bones, then head on over to the Co-op where you remember to buy shampoo and conditioner and purchase ingredients for a wholesome organic meal and Valentine treats.
Come home, straighten the house, serve a slice of red velvet cake to Tracy then walk with him and the sweet pug around the neighborhood where you see a group of young boys making the best of the storm damage of a few nights ago by building forts out of felled tree limbs.
Spend the afternoon in your sunny studio listening to Hay House radio and beading pink necklaces.

Late in the day, come downstairs, turn on XM Radio Kids and discover that it is by far the best station on XM. Dance to all the songs as you cook macaroni and cheese, rolls and peas. When Tracy comes home, express your love of XM Kids by singing Witch Doctor Chipmunk style.
Serve up dinner for Ava and Tracy. Tell Ava that yes, absolutely, she may bring the cup of M&Ms to the table.

After dinner, get out the art supplies and put on a They Might Be Giants DVD.
While the three of you watch, color wooden doll likenesses of yourselves.

After that, put in disc 2 of Sleeping Beauty and watch all the bonus material including games and quizzes.
After several hours of hanging out, walk Ava home while holding hands beneath the stars and enchanting moon.
Back at your house, light some candles

and cuddle with Woody while watching VH1.

Kapow! at night

Kapow met at my house tonight for dinner.

It was such a good thing to have time to really talk and be together. Words, women, food, wine (and one pug standing under the table, hoping a crumb would fall.) The cake was Belgian chocolate. The wine was Smith-Berry (thanks, Jenn and Rachel for going on the Smith-Berry hunt). The decaf was Peet’s. The conversation was intriguing, as always. The company was the best.
I had so looked forward to this dinner and every day this week I told myself, there's still time for me to clean and get things ready. When, at 9:30 on Thursday night, the vacuum began spitting out instead of sucking in, I reached the last drop of my energy well.
Last night, I got ready casually. I was still lighting candles and finishing things up when guests arrived. There were dirty dishes in the sink. And it was okay.
I had intended to make handmade Valentines for everyone (because KaPow! really is one of my valentines. I love it and am so grateful. I love knowing these women - writing with them and reading their work.) I made them, but they were from a kit with a few embellishments instead of my usual style.
In fact, I didn't make anything from scratch. I served a cake that I bought in a store instead of one that I made myself. I realize that this is perfectly acceptable - that people do this everyday- but it's always been one of my things that I make cake.
Last night was the second cake occasion in a row for which I didn't bake.
So, what does this mean?
I think it means I'm just going with the flow, doing what I can do, not doing what I can't do, and being happy about it.
It's all about the being together anyway.

Popovers

Yes, it's true, I'm sitting here on a Friday night watching the Food Network. I had to come clean about that fact because I have to share with you that I've just been made aware of the Popover Cafe, and I think I'm in love with it.
You know, I've never had one. Popover that is.

Decision latte

I have lunch everyday Thursday at Third Street Stuff with my writer's group KaPow!, which is great because I love and treasure both. A few weeks ago I noticed the electoral lattes, but I haven't tried one yet. Today just might be my day.

The end of Monday

I started off my day by making carob chip scones.

This is not a bad way to start a day.
I continued my cleaning project, then I met Jene' and Lily at the Mad Potter. I'd never been to a paint your own pottery place before and I was very taken with it.

Lily put her handprint on a trivet (with a little help) and I painted a mug that I'll be able to pick up in a few days. I could see how it would be possible to become addicted to the Mad Potter, especially on nights when they have live music. I'm giving serious consideration to throwing myself a Mad Potter birthday party, or better yet, convincing Tracy to go with me to the special Valentine's night event. (This is not likely.)
When I came home, I worked on clearing space in the bedroom,

swept the floors, did some laundry and got caught in an iTunes frenzy of buying back a few favorite albums that I either never had on CD or used to have and misplaced like Rust Never Sleeps and Warren Zevon.
I was impressed with how much I was able to accomplish just by letting go and not holding myself to any particular expectations. It was especially nice to leave the house and do something fun with a friend. The sun even came out for a little bit.
The atmosphere in the bedroom is so much lighter than it has been in a while and I'm enjoying my perch here on the bed with the straightened blankets, Ghost Hunters on TV

and the incense scented air.

Animal free...paraben free...thinking about getting free

Rather suddenly, I've become focused on ridding my beauty regime of products that contain parabens.

(If you’re interested, here’s a list of companies that don’t use ‘em.)
It’s all part of this clean sweep, the great purge of ’08, this clearing away of the gunk that I’m going through. I feel like completely reinventing myself and immerging clean and unencumbered. Or maybe not reinventing myself, but just sloughing off all of the stuff that isn’t myself. It’s the immerging part that I really like.

I suppose it’s because I’ve become more conscious of what I’m putting in my body by way of my mouth that I’ve begun to think about what I’m putting into my body by way of my pores.
In the past, I’ve made a big hoopla about this and started blogs about it and made proclamations and then slowly, over time, slipped back into my old ways. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t make a big hoopla about it this time. In fact, I can’t remember whether or not I’ve mentioned here that I stopped eating meat again.
I stopped sometime before Christmas. I had a conversion moment, actually. I had one of those moments you read about where swiftly and suddenly the forces and influences of my life aligned and a curtain was drawn back and I completely understood with a certain and deep knowing that my meat eating days were over. I was done with it.
I don’t miss it. I don’t even think about it. The truth is, I’ve always believed it was “difficult” to eat a vegetarian diet because I live with a meat-eater and because we eat in restaurants (and because I love chicken fingers) but, you know what? It isn’t difficult. There’s nothing about it that’s difficult. It’s very natural for me this time.
So I feel good about that change but I think it might not end there.
In the back of my head I’ve had this nagging little feeling that what I really should do (and by should, I mean that what my soul truly wants to do) is ease into a vegan diet. The story I’ve told myself about veganism is that it would be impossible. What will I do when people invite me over to eat, for example? Most people can swing something meatless, but that meatless thing usually has cheese in it. And what about eating out? I can think of two local restaurants with vegan options, but there are many places where the only meatless choice is a quesadilla.
This is the message I’m getting, however.
When I’m very still and I listen for the central voice, the voice says, be a vegan.
Then, the other day, I accidentally clicked over to a news site and saw this, which pulled me harder in the direction of stepping away from the animal products all together.
(Although I am seriously considering becoming ordained in the Universal Life Church so that I can perform weddings,) I am not a preacher and I don’t suppose to know what’s best for anyone other than myself.
I can guarantee that pizzas aren’t going to stop being delivered to our house. Tracy is not going to become a vegetarian or a vegan and I don’t hold judgments about his or anyone else’s choices when it comes to food.
I’m not holding judgments for myself either. The meat eating is over, the dairy– I’m not sure how it’s going to go. I think I’m going to give it a try for a while and see.
Tracy, because he is sweet and kind, went to the grocery and bought me dairy-free Amy’s burritos,

but he’s a little concerned that I might not be getting enough iron or that a life without macaroni and cheese will be a pale and boring life.
"Besides," I said to him, trying to sell the veganism, "how could I do this and not lose weight?"
"Oh sure," he said. "People usually get real skinny before they starve to death."
I don't want to worry him but I also don't think I'm going to starve to death.
Luckily, we live in a time when there's a lot of great information about eating an animal-free diet. I’m quite certain I can combine my foods for proper nutrition. In fact, I’m sure that a vegan diet will be far more nutritious for me than what I have been eating.
I am a little concerned about ice cream deficiency , but I’m terribly excited about my Sarah Kramer vegan cookbooks. I feel completely inspired every time I click over to her website and see her beautiful face staring back at me.

A nice surprise

Tracy was a little worried when I told him we were having vegetarian chicken cutlets for dinner,

but I was excited to try them.

They were stuffed with goat cheese and cranberries, and I do love the goat cheese.
Turns out, there was nothing to worry about. We both loved these.

Thanksgiving listing

Tracy and I are hosting the family Thanksgiving at our house this year. I’m excited about doing it and have lots of lists going (I love to plan with lists).
We don’t have my brother’s family this year (they rotate holidays between the families) but we do have Tracy’s sister and her husband, which is extra special.
I hope that even though it’s at our house, it will still seem like Thanksgiving to everyone, especially my mom. It’s for her that we’re moving operations this year. She’s having a minor surgery the week after Thanksgiving and we all thought it would help alleviate her stress if she didn’t have to get her house ready and cook a huge meal.
My mom sets a pretty fancy Thanksgiving table. Ours will be a little more funky, what with the wildly mismatched chairs and assorted table linens. We have nice dishes, but we don’t have fine china – you know, the kind you keep in boxes and bring out on the special occasions.
Everyone’s glass is not going to look the same, nor will the patterns on the forks. (I plan to offset this with candlelight.)
We do plan on adding hot apple cider to the post-dinner menu (which also includes cake and two kinds of pie) and, weather permitting, we’ll burn a fire in our outdoor fireplace. (Is there such a thing as a pumpkin s’more?)
I’ve made a Thanksgiving playlist (it turned out to be six hours long) and I’m planning Woody’s outfit (Pug Snuggly or party collar).
When it comes to food, Tracy and I are both pretty adventurous. We like a lot of different things and at least semi-try to be kinda sorta healthy in our food choices. We will be attempting to serve as organic and sustainable a meal as possible. But. We do like an old-fashioned country Thanksgiving.
Green beans, for instance. I love a nice crispy barely steamed green bean, but when it comes to Thanksgiving, I want greens beans cooked to death – smooshy, dark, smoky green beans simmered all day, never stirred, until they break a part and get soft. (Oh what I’d give for some greasy beans.)
I like dressing (not stuffing) formed into oval shapes, oyster casserole with crackers on top, sweet potato casserole (I like marshmallows toasted on mine, Tracy prefers the brown sugar and pecans), creamy corn pudding, dressed eggs, and mashed potatoes whipped with a hand mixer, because despite what everyone says, and what I normally adhere to, about not using a mixer on mashed potatoes, Thelma says the more you mix them, the better they are, and this is my Thanksgiving bible:

This is the food of my region, my childhood. Buttery. Creamy. Salty. Sweet. This is the food my grandmother could materialize like magic after a hard day’s work. She made these meals out of thin air and we spun the dishes to one another on the lazy susan. I can still feel the shape of the dimpled drinking glass in my hand (I can still feel it because she still has those glasses) and taste the iced tea she served every night. I have never been able to make good sugary southern iced tea, so I’m going to leave that to her.
I’m also not great at gravy, but I’m going to give it an honest try. (Note to self – buy roasting pan.)
The one thing I’m still on the fence about is rolls. One year, when Chloe and I cooked Thanksgiving dinner in New York, I made my grandmother’s homemade rolls and they turned out really well. Rolls, however, are sort of a big production and I’m thinking I may opt out and go for the Sister Schuberts.
These are the sorts of things I’m obsessed about at the moment. (Well, these things plus the lower half of what I’m going to wear. I’ve got the top half figured out.)
I have such romantic notions about holidays and I especially love Thanksgiving. I love the whole day – the Macy’s parade, the wind, the crazy snacks, the midnight pumpkin pie eaten while snuggled in warm pajamas watching Miracle on 34th Street.
I can’t wait to dance around my toasty kitchen in my autumn apron.
I’m not sure how to keep everything warm and get it all ready at the same time, but there has to be a way.

Halloween craftiness

Last night, Alexa hosted the Halloween party for our C.R.A.B.S. group. Most of the regular C.R.A.B.S. couldn't make it, but some new friends joined in and those of us who were there had a great time painting pumpkins and eating themed-food.

Alexa made these great favors for us.

There’s something so wholesome about a pumpkin. I love they way they feel when you hold them, so round and mysterious with that hollow sound they make when you thump them. They seem almost sacred to me, especially since they are harvested in the fall. Mine didn't look quite so sacred when I was finished painting it.

This is my favorite time of the year for gatherings and celebrations and Alexa did it up in Halloween style.

A day like this

I was feeling down about the end of my vacation and how I spent my time and did not spend my time, but I experienced a change of heart this morning, or a change of thought. I turned it around is what I did.
We drove out to Boyd Orchards for pumpkins and mums.

It was a beautiful drive and we found what we came for.

I was also very taken with the Halloween displays

and brought home a couple of things including paper witch hats for my little black Halloween tree.

On the way home, we stopped at the store for food, saw a friend from high school, found a giant Tootsie Roll for Woody.

This afternoon, I made a chart for the 100 Day Co-Creating Our Reality Challenge with icons to represent the practices I’m putting into place.

Now, we’re watching The Birds. I love the part where Tippi Hedren and Suzanne Pleshette are sitting around smoking and talking about Mitch. It’s so stylish and beautiful. Oh sure, there’s that little problem with the birds later, but I'm in it for the manicures and heels and perfect hair.
I just finished a mug of dragonwell green tea, the boy is cozied up with his paws tucked in.
There's nothing wrong with a day like this.

Day Two video here.

Wednesday report

How can it be Wednesday? Isn't it still the weekend?
So far, my vacation hasn't really shaped up the way I'd planned. I still have five more days of freedom, and I intend to spend them wisely and well. From this moment on, it's all about writing and organization and walking and tea and reading and yoga. (And possibly video blogging.)
On Monday, we ate lunch in Woodland Park then I made a birthday cake for my brother.

This was, I believe, an excellent us of time. Yesterday, however, I spent most of my day working on my Halloween costume.

It was an odd choice since we're not planning on going to a Halloween party.
Tracy and I went out to dinner last night, I watched about two hours worth of videos on You Tube, then listened to haunted Hollywood stories on the radio.
It's not exactly that I'm exhausted - I'm just on idle. I needed some time to walk around in slow circles staring at stuff. My brain needed to decompress.
This morning, I have my coffee with soy milk in a pug mug and I'm determined to get outside before it starts raining again. After my walk, my energy will shift and things will start to happen.
Seriously.

Good food

One thing I get to do in my job that is very cool is interview people. I love hearing people tell their stories and talk about their passions. Often the topic up for discussion is something I don't know much about, but sometimes I get to interview someone about a topic for which I also have great passion, and that's the best.
This week, I got to talk to a person in the know about sustainable agriculture and eating locally.
In an interesting twist of synchronicity, a couple of my friends had just attended a sustainable food conference and I'd been hearing bits and pieces from them about Alice Waters and how wonderfully she presented this topic for discussion.
We talked about setting a sustainable table-from bamboo or 100 percent cotton placemats, to the food itself grown locally and in season, and how doing so costs more money than the alternative.
My household Sunday grocery totals at the Co-op are more than the totals we used to generate at the grocery store. I wouldn't say it's a great difference, but it's a difference. It's worth it to me. It means I don't buy a pair of pajama pants or another candle holder. Or maybe, I don't buy as much food. We are more likely to eat the food we buy at the Co-op, and therefore, not waste it. It tastes better. It sounds good, so we choose it more often rather than going out.
I love that the Co-op offers stress-free shopping. (That alone is worth so much to me.) I love that the people who work there are knowledgeable and friendly. I love loose leaf bulk tea and Great Harvest bread. I love fruits and vegetables that actually look like fruits and vegetables in naturally occurring shapes and sizes. I love big jugs of Highbridge water with pumps.
It’s perfectly all right with me to spend more of my money on food, knowing that what I’m putting into my body is not swimming with hormones, pesticides and preservatives. There’s so much strange food out there. Recently, I was all excited when I saw a bottled green tea. Then, I looked on the label and the first ingredient was high fructose corn syrup. It's gotten so that food is confusing.
Even foods labeled as organic aren’t necessary pure. During the interview, I learned that food labeled by the FDA as organic can legally contain over 30 different substances. And benign or “healthy” stuff is now being added to food, like eggs “fortified with Omega-3s”. It’s not something I used to think about at all, but it has become deeply important to me.
When my brother and I were children we often went home in the afternoons with our grandparents and stayed with them at their farm until our parents came home from work. I remember going out with my grandmother to dig potatoes and carrots, bringing them back to house to prepare for dinner.
So while I was a child of the seventies who feasted on Pop Rocks and Big Macs and trolled the grocery aisles looking for the newest fabricated concoction (oh how I begged for Google Peanut Butter), I also had an understanding of where real food came from and I still have today the sensory memory of pulling potatoes from the ground.
I’m certainly not saying that everything I eat is a product of sustainable agriculture. (Far from it.) I still make questionable and down right awful food choices all the time. (Chicken fingers are my downfall.) But, I’m migrating toward eliminating things in my diet that hold negative energy for me.
I do believe that when we ingest food, we ingest energy - the origin of the food, its preparation and how we feel about it. I think, in fact, that how we feel about our food is as important as any other factor.
Supporting local farmers and eating seasonally is social action. It’s a way that we can do something about the state of the world, and the environment.
We’re lucky here that we have several farmer’s markets and orchards. We have options and the opportunity to speak to the people who grow our food.
For me, food has become a part of my spiritual path. I’ve found that the more aware of I am of spirit, of myself, of the world and my place in it, the less willing I am to put nonfood food into my mouth.
Everyone’s way is different and I certainly don’t expect everyone to agree with me or be willing to switch over completely to a sustainable table, but for me, it’s become forefront in my consciousness and a part of my quest for greater health and a balanced life.
During the interview (which included a lot of me excitedly talking - not a great interviewing skill) the person with whom I was conversing made several book suggestions. Here they are, if you're interested:
Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver
What to Eat by Marion Nestle
The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan

My Sacred Life Day 17: Friends, apples, rain

We went with friends to the apple festival today at Evans Orchard. We didn't let a little rain stop us (one of us...not me...even rode a camel). I'm grateful we have such friends.
It was good and peaceful there. We took a stroll through the apple trees and we ate quite a bit of food, including fried apple pies.
Just before we headed home, it started to rain in earnest and we got fairly soaked. I love the sensation of being out in the rain and it's been so long since we've had real rain. It was a sacred moment, to be sure.
Currently, I'm loving the sensation of being in on the couch with a curled up pug and whatever happens to be on the television playing in front of me. (It's the Firm.)
Our trip to the orchard was the only thing I "did" all weekend, and that's okay with me. It was just one of those weekends.
I needed to take it easy, I guess, so I did. And I still am.

My Sacred Life

Weekend

We went to the Woodland Art Fair today. There were so many things we loved. We had a few debates about what to buy, but ended up with a print from Hussein Saidi. His originals are incredible-banana bark, birch bark, husks, milkweed fibers and palm fibers on plywood. The colors and textures, the energy of his work is breathtaking. We bought the print until we can afford to get one of the big ones.
I made cookies and sandwiches but balanced that with a long hard hot walk. Now I'm tired, the boys are tired, and Napoleon Dynamite is on.
I love it so.

Happy Fourth

Our Fourth of July ended with a police officer shouting, “It’s the police!” as he descended our basement steps. It wasn’t as exciting as it sounds, but it was miles away from where my day started.
Early morning, I took my coffee to the backyard for a little bird watching. It was perfect and luscious out there, but I could hear the faint sounds of music downtown and because of a personality flaw that leads me always to believe there’s someplace better I should be, I got the idea that we should go downtown and walk around some before the parade.

As soon as we got downtown, I wished I was still sitting in the shade watching birds, but that’s the way it goes with me.
We did see a good band.

And we did stay for the parade. I was particularly taken with the BaHai Faith float

and the Unitarians brought me to tears, as always, with their giant white dove and soft singing of Give Peace a Chance.

We were completely pummeled with exhaustion by the time we got home. Tracy took to the bed and I headed back to the yard.

We arrived an hour late for my parents’ cookout and the storm that had threatened all day landed not long after we ate. It was impressive and I was a little concerned that Woody might be scared home alone. Just as the rain let up a bit, the phone rang and it was our security company.
It seems our alarm had gone off and the company had determined a second floor window was broken. We raced home, both of us thinking only of Woody whose crate is right next to a second floor window.
The police were already there when we arrived. Tracy stayed out to talk to them and I ran upstairs to the boy. He was fine. In fact, I quickly glanced around and saw no broken windows.
Back downstairs, the police were checking out the house and that was the first time that I realized they thought there might be an intruder inside. Somehow, this notion had completely escaped me. I just assumed the broken window was due to the storm.
It turns out one of the of the cables that holds a window on the sleeper porch broke and the window came crashing down - but the glass didn’t break.
Somehow, this brief event during which nothing actually happened completely wore me out.
So, that is how we celebrated the birth of our country. With a little bit of everything. (And angel food cupcakes.)

Fairy Day

Can you imagine anything better? There are so many ways to celebrate a fine day like this. Host a fairy tea party, throw a fairy ball, go to a fairy festival, eat some fairy bread, dig in your garden, roll around in your yard, take a hike, wear wings or fairy jewelry, try your hand at fairy photography, or listen to fairy music.

Fairies love sugar, so it's always nice to leave a little treat for them.

Mushrooms in your yard are a good sign that fairies have taken up residence.
And don't forget to warn the fairies before you mow the grass or go tromping across the yard. They like to know so they have time to scatter. I asked Tracy to do this so he yells, "Asses and elbows, fairies, I'm coming through," when he gets the lawn mower out of the garage. I think they're fine with this. I figure fairies have a great sense of humor and that they're probably a little salty. In fact, Irish fairies will fight 'ya if they have to.
You can visit this site to find out what your fairy name is.

Or you can visit this place and get lost in the beauty and the magic. Getting lost in beauty and magic is always good.
In honor of hour winged friends, I decided to do a reading with my Fairy deck. If you've clicked over here today, the fairies must want me to get this message to you, and I would never stand in the way of a fairy's will.

Sunday night report

On Friday night we decided to give the new Movie Tavern a whirl. I’ve been interested in the concept of eating a meal while watching a movie, but I wondered how it would be in there. I thought it might be loud and clanky. It wasn’t. It was super fun. The seats were comfortable and somehow the staff takes orders and delivers food in a completely unobtrustive way.
We saw Knocked Up, which we loved. It’s a funny, smart movie with a Loudon Wainwright soundtrack and a big heart.
We had such a good time, in fact, that we went on a double-date with Chad and Chloe last night (here they are rockin’ the backseat of the Bug) and saw Oceans Thirteen. This is not the sort of movie that I usually agree see, but I must say, it was pretty to look at and it was much fun for the four of us to be out together.
Today brought with it a decision. Do we stay at home or go out on adventures? It was a tough call but ultimately, we decided to take Woody to the opening of the Patrick Brannon Memorial Dog Park. (You can view our slideshow here.)
There was a nice ceremony, Patrick’s father spoke, there was a “leash cutting,” then the park was opened to all of the dogs in attendance.
It’s a lovely park with shade and comfortable benches and a water fountain. Woody had a great time even though he couldn’t easily find playmates. The other dogs seemed a little more interested in roaming around or lying down than running in circles. They were all super sweet, though, and seemed to understand the occasion.
We came home and whipped together a little cookout for ourselves and that was our weekend.

It's a good thing I've already taken a shower and put on pajamas. If not, I would be unable to resist the pull toward Dairy Queen and one of those soft serve cones dipped in chocolate.

Side salad

Tonight at dinner I realized something about myself. Whenever I order dinner in a restaurant and I want a side salad, I make this motion with my hands:

I always do this. Always.
Tonight, I clearly saw "caeser salad" listed under sides, but when I ordered it as one of my sides, I made the motion and asked, "Do you have a little caeser salad?"
Yes, I was told. Yes, there is a side caeser just like it says right there on the menu.
Suddenly, after a lifetime of making the little cupping motion with my hands and making clear that the salad I want is a little salad, it struck me that this is very strange indeed. What is it in my brain that's afraid a giant salad will come instead? Why would my server think that I had ordered an entree salad to go with my entree?
No server would think it. And any server who did think it would certainly clarify, "So, you'd like the dinner portion caeser with your dinner?"
And what if a big salad did arrive on my table instead of a side salad? Would that be so tragic?
Maybe this is some sort of strange modesty, maybe I am saying with my hand motion, yes, I ordered the fried chicken and sour cream on my potato, but don't be fooled, I'm very dainty and petite. See, I can only eat a small salad. Small, I tell you.
Even as I try to imagine ordering the salad as a side next time, without the question and the hands, I feel a little nervous. I don't think I can do it. There's just something in me that has to make sure we're all on the same salad page.

Weekend winding down

I had to work on Saturday, so this wasn’t really a three-day weekend for me, but I did appreciate that so many people were out of town. I had to drive to several of our most congested areas, but there was no congestion and that was undeniably fun. (Especially today when I heard When Doves Cry followed by Kiss You All Over followed by Livin’ on a Prayer.)

I had a whole list of imperative, must-get-done things to do this weekend but I got out of bed too early on Sunday to ever get my energy going and I made up for that by sleeping late today. So a couple of my necessary, must-get-done things got done but others fell by the wayside. (I hope you’re not allergice to dust, people who are coming to my house this week.)
We were honored to met a brand new person this weekend.
I decided to start participating in the 365 Days project on flickr.
I got a new bag.

We watched several episodes of M*A*S*H* and agreed that Colonel Blake Trapper John M*A*S*H is far superior to Colonel Potter B.J. Honeycutt M*A*S*H. (I also concluded that if I were a member of the Evans family, I would stop answering the door because every time one of their long lost friends shows up it is always trouble.)
I finished this fantastic book at last and promptly started this one.
Tonight, Chloe and Chad hosted a family get together with delicious foods,
which gave me the perfect excuse to try out the Barefoot Contessa brownies that I found at the Fresh Market.

I came home from the party and set up for writing on the porch, which is my current favorite thing in the world to do.

So, it was a good weekend.
I don’t have a meaningful Memorial Day post for you, but I appreciated this one.

Sunday night report

I spent a lot of time this weekend just sitting on the front porch with cups of coffee. Sometimes Woody and Tracy sat with me. I wrote a little bit, read a little bit.
We had a nice picnic with friends and pug friends.
We ate food, drove around slowly on curving roads, bought some t-shirts and comfy green pajama pants. (Tracy actually needed some t-shirts. I'd be hard pressed to prove that I need pajamas.)
At one point, Tracy became fascinated by the fact that my ears were glowing, which made me feel a little magical.
This is the sort of weekend we had. Quiet, breezy, calm.
I wish it could have gone on and on, all lovely and sun-dappled and sweet.

Food news

I'm not sure what it says about me that I've been deeply and genuin