piano music
yo-yo ma's cello
it reaches in and draws out something
i don't know what even as it runs down my cheeks
unnamed sadness in my soul
ebbs out at beauty's invitation
tears make an invisible soul's sadness visible
materialization of a spirit bypassing the mind
no words
just knowing that is beyond thought
Saturday, August 6, 2011
Monday, July 18, 2011
Friday, July 15, 2011
Farts and Flips
"Mom, wouldn't it be cool if we could use farts out of our butts as a jet pack?!"
This is what my child thinks about as he's drifting off to sleep.
Did I say drifting?
There is no drifting.
This child runs full speed through the day using every last molecule of energy to its zenith.
He lives life out loud, bouncing and chatting, lamenting and bubbling.
After pajamas are on, I make him do his 10 mandatory flips on the couch to get the last reserves of energy out.
If that doesn't work, I add on 10 push-ups, 25 jumping jacks, 35 sit-ups, 15 rows of potato picking and 5 huge bear hugs for mom.
I think its that last one that helps him get right to sleep.
This is what my child thinks about as he's drifting off to sleep.
Did I say drifting?
There is no drifting.
This child runs full speed through the day using every last molecule of energy to its zenith.
He lives life out loud, bouncing and chatting, lamenting and bubbling.
After pajamas are on, I make him do his 10 mandatory flips on the couch to get the last reserves of energy out.
If that doesn't work, I add on 10 push-ups, 25 jumping jacks, 35 sit-ups, 15 rows of potato picking and 5 huge bear hugs for mom.
I think its that last one that helps him get right to sleep.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Forgoing the Machete
"I have the best mom in the world."
Those undeserved words last night show the power of crawling up on a loft bed when you're too tired after a long day. Listening to a boy's wonder at burrowing owls and the difference between vultures and buzzards and "did you know that all black birds in Florida are red-winged, Mommy?"
These past few years, I've fought the end of the day, night time thing with the kids. I'll read a story from time to time, say prayers, always a kiss and a hug goodnight, too many times a curt word about mommy being tired and needing some quiet. Aren't I entitled to a bit of quiet after a day spent schooling and running and refereeing too many fights? For damn sure, I am. I make sacrifices. I've worked hard today. I deserve a break. The problem is, I never met an entitled person I liked.
I measure my life and my days by many things. How much did I get done today? What did I accomplish? My list is long and when I cross things off I think I feel better, like life is moving in the right direction. Me and the myopic machete slashing through life.
Since February, and reading the love chapter in Corinthians most days with the boys, I've been mulling measuring my life in love. It hurts to see how small I live.
"I can make all kinds of sacrifices..." home school, rarely have time or energy for friends, my thread of sanity after the 30th fight today...
"and yet if I do not have love it is all an awful noise..." "my whining, and scolding and demanding and curt bedtime no more talking!..."
None of the tasks, sacrifices, accomplishments---whatever I'm calling them today---matter if its done without love. Love in my voice, love in my eyes, love in my actions.
A list will have you send your boys off to bed with a quick hug and a kiss.
Love will send your weary body climbing up a loft ladder to listen to little hearts delight.
Laughing real belly laughs with my boy as he reads Calvin and Hobbes...he doesn't just read...his expression and voices and inflections...watching him choose "one last strip" with the discernment of an aficionado...
The last hour of my day slips away...I would normally measure that hour in dishes done, floors swept, rooms straightened, to do lists made...everything in order, quarter-bouncing tight and in place.
The last few nights I've chosen to measure it in love and there's laughter everywhere, questions strewn about, smiles all over the place and a mess of giggles.
I feel better, like life is moving in the right direction.
Those undeserved words last night show the power of crawling up on a loft bed when you're too tired after a long day. Listening to a boy's wonder at burrowing owls and the difference between vultures and buzzards and "did you know that all black birds in Florida are red-winged, Mommy?"
These past few years, I've fought the end of the day, night time thing with the kids. I'll read a story from time to time, say prayers, always a kiss and a hug goodnight, too many times a curt word about mommy being tired and needing some quiet. Aren't I entitled to a bit of quiet after a day spent schooling and running and refereeing too many fights? For damn sure, I am. I make sacrifices. I've worked hard today. I deserve a break. The problem is, I never met an entitled person I liked.
I measure my life and my days by many things. How much did I get done today? What did I accomplish? My list is long and when I cross things off I think I feel better, like life is moving in the right direction. Me and the myopic machete slashing through life.
Since February, and reading the love chapter in Corinthians most days with the boys, I've been mulling measuring my life in love. It hurts to see how small I live.
"I can make all kinds of sacrifices..." home school, rarely have time or energy for friends, my thread of sanity after the 30th fight today...
"and yet if I do not have love it is all an awful noise..." "my whining, and scolding and demanding and curt bedtime no more talking!..."
None of the tasks, sacrifices, accomplishments---whatever I'm calling them today---matter if its done without love. Love in my voice, love in my eyes, love in my actions.
A list will have you send your boys off to bed with a quick hug and a kiss.
Love will send your weary body climbing up a loft ladder to listen to little hearts delight.
Laughing real belly laughs with my boy as he reads Calvin and Hobbes...he doesn't just read...his expression and voices and inflections...watching him choose "one last strip" with the discernment of an aficionado...
The last hour of my day slips away...I would normally measure that hour in dishes done, floors swept, rooms straightened, to do lists made...everything in order, quarter-bouncing tight and in place.
The last few nights I've chosen to measure it in love and there's laughter everywhere, questions strewn about, smiles all over the place and a mess of giggles.
I feel better, like life is moving in the right direction.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
Monday, July 11, 2011
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Forbid
"Accompany me today, O Spirit invisible, in all my goings, but stay with me also when I am with my own home and among my kindred. Forbid that I should fail to show to those nearest to me the sympathy and consideration which thy grace enables me to show to others with whom I have to do. Forbid that I should refuse to my own household the courtesy and politeness which I think proper to show to strangers. Let charity today begin at home."
Twenty-First Day Morning in A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie
"Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action."
Twenty-First Day Morning in A Diary of Private Prayer by John Baillie
"Love begins at home, and it is not how much we do... but how much love we put in that action."
Friday, April 8, 2011
Foot in Mouth
Particularly the foot and mouth belonging to me.
I was going back and forth about the title of this post. Faux Pas or Foot in Mouth. So I looked up the definitions of each.
Faux Pas: "a social blunder or indiscretion; [from French: false step]".
The French have a way with words. Even something like being a fool in public sounds fabulous.
Foot in Mouth: "This is used to describe someone who has just said something embarrassing, inappropriate, wrong or stupid."
Americans, on the other hand, come up with phrases like "foot in mouth".
I'm American, so I guess that's why the no frills definition of "foot in mouth" really resonated with me. But it was really the word stupid that tipped the scales.
The other day I got an email from a friend which said, "I'm emailing you because I've given up calling. You never answer your phone." I get pestered about that A LOT. And for some reason, I decided today was the day to do something about it. Clearly, the people calling my phone needed more information about my phone management style. Clearly.
So, I decided to change my chipper, cheerful voicemail greeting from the normal, "Hi, this is Jenny. Thanks for calling! Leave me a message and I'll call you back. Have a great day!" to something more informative.
I'm not a one hit wonder on voicemail greeting recordings. Are you? I was about the third recording attempt in. I was feeling glib. I was feeling catharsis. It was feeling really quite good to hear myself saying, "Hello, this is Jenny. Thanks for calling. I use my phone as an answering service, which is why I hardly ever answer my phone. If you would like for me to call you back, please leave a message and I will get back to you later in the day."
In my head, I was hearing a choir singing, "Freedooooommm, Freedooooom!" I was hearing, "Amen! Preach it, Sista!" "Go 'head! Get it out! Tell 'em what its about!" So I did. I went on with my bad self and told 'em what it was all about.
Bonus tip of the day: Listening to voices in your head is by and large a bad idea.
I continued recording myself saying, "if this is truly an emergency and you need to speak with me this very instant, send me a text message. And another thing...for your information, I home school my two boys all day long, I cook, I clean, I garden, I have a life. I enjoy doing other things with my time than answer the phone every single time it rings. So if you get this message and don't like it, oh well." I'm absolutely sure it was a teensy bit nicer than that.
And then I laughed out loud, thinking, "Oh man, that is hilarious! I really wish I could leave that on there!"
My next thought was, "Oh shit! I better get that greeting off ASAP! What if someone really heard that?"
So, I responsibly and promptly started recording another greeting. I was in the middle of getting back to the "record greeting screen" when my phone rang showing a number I didn't recognize. In my eagerness, to record my new greeting ASAP, I sent the call to voicemail.
mhmm...you read that right. I sent the call to voicemail. I am not lying. You can't make this kind of stupidity up. They did not leave a message, nor did they send me a text message.
I wish I was French.
I was going back and forth about the title of this post. Faux Pas or Foot in Mouth. So I looked up the definitions of each.
Faux Pas: "a social blunder or indiscretion; [from French: false step]".
The French have a way with words. Even something like being a fool in public sounds fabulous.
Foot in Mouth: "This is used to describe someone who has just said something embarrassing, inappropriate, wrong or stupid."
Americans, on the other hand, come up with phrases like "foot in mouth".
I'm American, so I guess that's why the no frills definition of "foot in mouth" really resonated with me. But it was really the word stupid that tipped the scales.
The other day I got an email from a friend which said, "I'm emailing you because I've given up calling. You never answer your phone." I get pestered about that A LOT. And for some reason, I decided today was the day to do something about it. Clearly, the people calling my phone needed more information about my phone management style. Clearly.
So, I decided to change my chipper, cheerful voicemail greeting from the normal, "Hi, this is Jenny. Thanks for calling! Leave me a message and I'll call you back. Have a great day!" to something more informative.
I'm not a one hit wonder on voicemail greeting recordings. Are you? I was about the third recording attempt in. I was feeling glib. I was feeling catharsis. It was feeling really quite good to hear myself saying, "Hello, this is Jenny. Thanks for calling. I use my phone as an answering service, which is why I hardly ever answer my phone. If you would like for me to call you back, please leave a message and I will get back to you later in the day."
In my head, I was hearing a choir singing, "Freedooooommm, Freedooooom!" I was hearing, "Amen! Preach it, Sista!" "Go 'head! Get it out! Tell 'em what its about!" So I did. I went on with my bad self and told 'em what it was all about.
Bonus tip of the day: Listening to voices in your head is by and large a bad idea.
I continued recording myself saying, "if this is truly an emergency and you need to speak with me this very instant, send me a text message. And another thing...for your information, I home school my two boys all day long, I cook, I clean, I garden, I have a life. I enjoy doing other things with my time than answer the phone every single time it rings. So if you get this message and don't like it, oh well." I'm absolutely sure it was a teensy bit nicer than that.
And then I laughed out loud, thinking, "Oh man, that is hilarious! I really wish I could leave that on there!"
My next thought was, "Oh shit! I better get that greeting off ASAP! What if someone really heard that?"
So, I responsibly and promptly started recording another greeting. I was in the middle of getting back to the "record greeting screen" when my phone rang showing a number I didn't recognize. In my eagerness, to record my new greeting ASAP, I sent the call to voicemail.
mhmm...you read that right. I sent the call to voicemail. I am not lying. You can't make this kind of stupidity up. They did not leave a message, nor did they send me a text message.
I wish I was French.
Monday, April 4, 2011
Followers and Forgiveness
I started a blog about food and titled it "Fishsticks, Fiddlesticks and Failing Forward". Originally, I wanted to force myself into a good relationship with food. I've moved from hate/hate to love/hate and I'm calling it progress.
My original "About Me" said: "I am a frustrated mom who decided to feed my finicky kids fish sticks while I form my own friendship with food. I frequently find myself swearing fiddlesticks (and other words beginning with f) while I fail forward in my adventure with food. I also occasionally talk fingernails. Apparently, unbeknown to me prior to this blog, I have a love affair with ALL words beginning with f. All this time, I thought it was just the one! Disclaimer: Fish sticks is a catchall word for stuff my kids will eat. Literalists beware. Hyperbole is my friend."
That's when I started to realize that I had a special relationship with F words that extended far beyond what I considered to be a one word category. I also simultaneously at the same time realized that I might possibly be what some might call weird. I've accepted it and moved from unconscious incompetence to conscious incompetence and I'm calling it progress.
I've also come to accept that if I keep this blog singularly focused on food:
1. I'll post about three times every other year,
2. I'll be holding my own feet to the fire about resolving my cooking issues
3. Why on earth would I want to do that?
4. I'll be continually awash with guilt for numbers 1-3.
5. Oprah says not to awash myself in guilt so I'm not going to.
6. Also, I'm pretty sure Jesus said something about that, too, although I really don't think blog guilt was exactly what he was aiming at...nonetheless...
7. These numbers are erroneous.
8. Case in point
So, I'm here asking forgiveness from my 12 faithful followers for changing the rather benign, albeit strange title of "Fishsticks, Fiddlesticks and Failing Forward" to the broader, albeit possibly offensive title "Writing with F Words". I realize that looking at your "blogs I follow" and seeing that title could make you think you've been somehow spammed and cause you to say something like "what the f***?!" I will not be offended if you "unfollow". My low-teens follower numbers will cloak your decision in anonymity.
For those of you who do stick around, I promise to still write about Food (three times every other year), I also guarantee there will be plenty of Failing, hopefully with Forward movement. But now I Feel the Freedom to also write about my other Favorite F words: Friends, Family, Faith, Fingernails, France and Farming (gardening doesn't start with an f). I also think the new title is Freaking Funny.
Your Friend,
Jenny
P.S. What is your favorite f word?
My original "About Me" said: "I am a frustrated mom who decided to feed my finicky kids fish sticks while I form my own friendship with food. I frequently find myself swearing fiddlesticks (and other words beginning with f) while I fail forward in my adventure with food. I also occasionally talk fingernails. Apparently, unbeknown to me prior to this blog, I have a love affair with ALL words beginning with f. All this time, I thought it was just the one! Disclaimer: Fish sticks is a catchall word for stuff my kids will eat. Literalists beware. Hyperbole is my friend."
That's when I started to realize that I had a special relationship with F words that extended far beyond what I considered to be a one word category. I also simultaneously at the same time realized that I might possibly be what some might call weird. I've accepted it and moved from unconscious incompetence to conscious incompetence and I'm calling it progress.
I've also come to accept that if I keep this blog singularly focused on food:
1. I'll post about three times every other year,
2. I'll be holding my own feet to the fire about resolving my cooking issues
3. Why on earth would I want to do that?
4. I'll be continually awash with guilt for numbers 1-3.
5. Oprah says not to awash myself in guilt so I'm not going to.
6. Also, I'm pretty sure Jesus said something about that, too, although I really don't think blog guilt was exactly what he was aiming at...nonetheless...
7. These numbers are erroneous.
8. Case in point
So, I'm here asking forgiveness from my 12 faithful followers for changing the rather benign, albeit strange title of "Fishsticks, Fiddlesticks and Failing Forward" to the broader, albeit possibly offensive title "Writing with F Words". I realize that looking at your "blogs I follow" and seeing that title could make you think you've been somehow spammed and cause you to say something like "what the f***?!" I will not be offended if you "unfollow". My low-teens follower numbers will cloak your decision in anonymity.
For those of you who do stick around, I promise to still write about Food (three times every other year), I also guarantee there will be plenty of Failing, hopefully with Forward movement. But now I Feel the Freedom to also write about my other Favorite F words: Friends, Family, Faith, Fingernails, France and Farming (gardening doesn't start with an f). I also think the new title is Freaking Funny.
Your Friend,
Jenny
P.S. What is your favorite f word?
Friday, March 11, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
A Toast for Girls' Night
When we talk about bringing ourselves to the table,
it means being present,
engaged,
and contributing.
Thank you for bringing your whole selves to this table tonight.
All of you...hearts,
souls
and beautiful faces.
Your sweet hearts...
some are broken,
mended
and mending.
Your beautiful souls...
each is broken,
healed
and healing.
Your lovely faces...
all are radiant,
gorgeous
and smiling.
Here's to breathing the air of grace,
living in each moment,
and celebrating an ordinary Friday night
Made special by friendship in candlelight.
Friday, March 4, 2011
Need something to waste your valuable time...
other than reading this blog?
If you have Netflix Instant Queue, search for SNL Season 23, Episode 18. You will learn some excellent dance moves, feast your eyes on the eye candy that is Steve Buscemi, and gain insight into the cryptic blog post title: "Wallet wallet." I am sure no one got that reference. If you did give me a shout out, because I will then know we are soulmates. At least in the humor department of our souls.
If you have Netflix Instant Queue, search for SNL Season 23, Episode 18. You will learn some excellent dance moves, feast your eyes on the eye candy that is Steve Buscemi, and gain insight into the cryptic blog post title: "Wallet wallet." I am sure no one got that reference. If you did give me a shout out, because I will then know we are soulmates. At least in the humor department of our souls.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Bonus Mini Post: Wallet Wallet
It is one hour away from being the fourth day of March in my 35th year on this blue planet and....
I still have 10 long(ish) homegrown fingernails on the tips of my fingers.
This post is for my hard core followers who know that I really started my blog as a way to track my fingernail growing progress and to recount the saga of the last 30 or so years of my dramatic quest for a nail biting cure.
I figured I'd just hide the true blog within a blog about food. Food seemed more widely appealing than fingernails.
Dwight Shrewt and I would be friends if he was a real person. We see eye to eye when it comes to cunning plan with in a plan plans.
I still have 10 long(ish) homegrown fingernails on the tips of my fingers.
This post is for my hard core followers who know that I really started my blog as a way to track my fingernail growing progress and to recount the saga of the last 30 or so years of my dramatic quest for a nail biting cure.
I figured I'd just hide the true blog within a blog about food. Food seemed more widely appealing than fingernails.
Dwight Shrewt and I would be friends if he was a real person. We see eye to eye when it comes to cunning plan with in a plan plans.
Sage Wisdom & Rosemary Chicken
What was I thinking ending that last post with something that required follow through?
The ancient sages said, "Know thyself." I always liked my friend's version of that saying. It was on a plaque on her mother's fireplace mantel: "Smack thyself." Much more fitting in my case.
So, since there was not an overwhelming outcry from the the nether reaches of the internet for the curry recipe I tried last week. I'm movin' on. If one of the three of you who read the last post would like the recipe, please comment and I'll get right on that (next year). (<---know thyself).
Here's what I'm up to this Friday:
Just sent this email to my girlfriends...If you are one of my girlfriends and did not receive this email, please comment and I'll get right on that (this minute). (<---smack thyself).
"Hi Girls!
Anyone up for an impromptu Girls' Nite at my house tomorrow night?
Here's the plan(ish):
1. Eat good food.
2. watch a movie/hang out
*See end of email for menu and rsvp (so fancy) information
4:00/4:30
Michele and my friend Adriana (who cooks with me out of the goodness of her heart every Friday night) are planning to come over early to help prep food. Anyone is welcome to come over and backseat cook. If you decide to come over early, you might want to bring your chef's knife with you b/c you will be put to work. :) And if too many girls (can there really be "too many") come over early be prepared to be sent out of the kitchen to sit on the couch and snack b/c you know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen.... Or maybe I'll just go snack on the couch and you all can cook! haaha! :) kidding, of course.
6:30
eat.
6:45
eat.
7:00
eat.
7:01
stop eating. we're americans we don't linger and "dine" :(
7:05
watch movie/talk/hangout
7:09
dessert of some kind that I have not planned yet.
11:00
call husbands and tell them we are still hanging out and will be home in a couple of hours.
12:00
feel bonded and loved and thankful to be females.
RSVP:
please let me know asap if you can come and what part you plan on coming to. feel free to come late.
I need to know how much chicken to buy. I'm going to the store at 10am tomorrow, so it would be great to know before then, but if you really want to come over for dinner and didn't rsvp before I go to the store, I'm sure someone will be willing to half their chicken with you.
bring $2-$3 I ain't rich. wish I was. but I ain't.
feel free to bring a dessert if that does not stress you out. No girls stressed out about making a dessert allowed. Unless you're stressed out and need a good place to vent. that is definitely allowed.
Menu:
Roasted Chicken with lemon, rosemary garlic and thyme
roasted potatoes, butternut squash, parsnips carrots
I know this isn't super "spring-y" but its still solid winter everywhere else, and I want to honor that.
some kind of salad I haven't planned yet.
and maybe I'll get fancy and make some kind of bread. (this is a big maybe.)
Movie:
something from my chickflick collection or whatever is good on the netflix instant queue. Not that movie with meg ryan and the dude that travels in time. I had a girls night ruined by that movie. and i haven't recovered from it. never. again.
Okay, I think that's it. Knowing me, I've left out something important, so feel free to email me with questions and your "yes" rsvps! :)
Love,
Jenny
P.S. I drink wine. If you drink wine, bring your favorite. If you do not drink wine and would be uncomfortable around other people drinking wine. I'm sorry (for you). On Friday nights I drink wine. I'm religious about it. ;) "
So far I have received 8 wish-i-could-be-theres. I have a bunch of planners for friends.
I found the aforementioned dinner menu on a Jamie Oliver cooking show. I think I'm in love. I think he is helping me make peace with my issues (the cooking show issues...we haven't shared our other issues. yet.)
I am so tempted to say that I'm going to tell all about my new relationship with Jamie Oliver in my next blog post. But in an effort to know myself I'll refrain so I don't need to smack myself.
The ancient sages said, "Know thyself." I always liked my friend's version of that saying. It was on a plaque on her mother's fireplace mantel: "Smack thyself." Much more fitting in my case.
So, since there was not an overwhelming outcry from the the nether reaches of the internet for the curry recipe I tried last week. I'm movin' on. If one of the three of you who read the last post would like the recipe, please comment and I'll get right on that (next year). (<---know thyself).
Here's what I'm up to this Friday:
Just sent this email to my girlfriends...If you are one of my girlfriends and did not receive this email, please comment and I'll get right on that (this minute). (<---smack thyself).
"Hi Girls!
Anyone up for an impromptu Girls' Nite at my house tomorrow night?
Here's the plan(ish):
1. Eat good food.
2. watch a movie/hang out
*See end of email for menu and rsvp (so fancy) information
4:00/4:30
Michele and my friend Adriana (who cooks with me out of the goodness of her heart every Friday night) are planning to come over early to help prep food. Anyone is welcome to come over and backseat cook. If you decide to come over early, you might want to bring your chef's knife with you b/c you will be put to work. :) And if too many girls (can there really be "too many") come over early be prepared to be sent out of the kitchen to sit on the couch and snack b/c you know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen.... Or maybe I'll just go snack on the couch and you all can cook! haaha! :) kidding, of course.
6:30
eat.
6:45
eat.
7:00
eat.
7:01
stop eating. we're americans we don't linger and "dine" :(
7:05
watch movie/talk/hangout
7:09
dessert of some kind that I have not planned yet.
11:00
call husbands and tell them we are still hanging out and will be home in a couple of hours.
12:00
feel bonded and loved and thankful to be females.
RSVP:
please let me know asap if you can come and what part you plan on coming to. feel free to come late.
I need to know how much chicken to buy. I'm going to the store at 10am tomorrow, so it would be great to know before then, but if you really want to come over for dinner and didn't rsvp before I go to the store, I'm sure someone will be willing to half their chicken with you.
bring $2-$3 I ain't rich. wish I was. but I ain't.
feel free to bring a dessert if that does not stress you out. No girls stressed out about making a dessert allowed. Unless you're stressed out and need a good place to vent. that is definitely allowed.
Menu:
Roasted Chicken with lemon, rosemary garlic and thyme
roasted potatoes, butternut squash, parsnips carrots
I know this isn't super "spring-y" but its still solid winter everywhere else, and I want to honor that.
some kind of salad I haven't planned yet.
and maybe I'll get fancy and make some kind of bread. (this is a big maybe.)
Movie:
something from my chickflick collection or whatever is good on the netflix instant queue. Not that movie with meg ryan and the dude that travels in time. I had a girls night ruined by that movie. and i haven't recovered from it. never. again.
Okay, I think that's it. Knowing me, I've left out something important, so feel free to email me with questions and your "yes" rsvps! :)
Love,
Jenny
P.S. I drink wine. If you drink wine, bring your favorite. If you do not drink wine and would be uncomfortable around other people drinking wine. I'm sorry (for you). On Friday nights I drink wine. I'm religious about it. ;) "
So far I have received 8 wish-i-could-be-theres. I have a bunch of planners for friends.
I found the aforementioned dinner menu on a Jamie Oliver cooking show. I think I'm in love. I think he is helping me make peace with my issues (the cooking show issues...we haven't shared our other issues. yet.)
I am so tempted to say that I'm going to tell all about my new relationship with Jamie Oliver in my next blog post. But in an effort to know myself I'll refrain so I don't need to smack myself.
Friday, February 25, 2011
A Few Announcements. Few meaning 10.
#1. I am SO proud of myself! Because, I am in this, y'all. I am so doing this!
#2. My friend Adriana rocks.
#3. I will not, I repeat, NOT be having tacos for Christmas Dinner next year. I've already got my sights set on a couple of killer recipes that I'm going to start practicing. Yes, I know its only February.
#4. It is the end of February and I still have long nails. Do I have any fellow long term nail biters out there? I never make it out of January with the "quit biting my nails" New Year's Resolution or my nails in tact. I know this is somewhat unrelated, but it didn't seem quite right as a facebook status update so I thought I'd just sneak it in here. Thanks for reading.
#5. I am a resolution-crossing-off-machine because it is the end of February and I have cooked circa 7 times. Disclaimer: This may be an exaggeration.
#6. I have more low quality iphone pictures of raw chicken in bad lighting than I ever imagined possible when I purchased my iphone3. I know you're now on the edge of your seats....inching closer to the screen... I really wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, I want you to read this post, but I'd back up for the chicken pics.
#7. I am serious about my Foibles to Fabulous cooking journey. I am also serious about alliteration and the letter F. To prove to myself the seriousness of my determination to stare down the cooking dragon once and for all this year, I employed the help of my friend Adriana, who I mentioned in my first blog rant. I asked her to cook with me every Friday night and to the credit of her insanity and devotion to mine, she agreed.
#8. Tonight we cooked "Mild Green Calcutta Curry of Chicken and Vegetables" from Jewish Cooking: the Traditions, Techniques, Ingredients, and Recipes. <--- Hey! look I figured out how to do a link! If I had music on my blog, I'd play Madonna's "Like a Virgin/Linked for the very first time/like a vir..ir..ir...ir..gin...". Ok, anyway, you can click on that link and check out the book on Amazon. You can buy it new for $43 or used for $3. Apparently, it, too, has been a victim of the housing bubble. Not recommended as an investment piece.
I do recommend the recipe. Highlights for me were using coconut milk for the first time (vir...ir...ir..ir..gin) and using mint from my garden, albeit withered and ill-kept. If I had to pick one more highlight, it would be the way the spices and herbs looked so vibrant and colorful just before blending in my magic bullet blender (that my grandma bought for me off the TV). And the way the spices and herbs smelled so aromatic just after blending in said magic bullet blender. I assure you it was worth every penny of her $19.99. Actually, my particular magic bullet was free. Hers cost $19.99. She had fast fingers and called just in the nick of time to get mine as an additional at no extra cost.
#9. I don't need an inheritance.
So, what happens when you drag out your magic bullet and mix
six spices, herbs, onions, garlic, ginger,
chillies, lemon, coconut milk,
chicken stock, sugar, bananas,
sultanas (foodie for raisins),
pineapple, mint,
blood, sweat, tears
and a woman two glasses of white wine in on an empty stomach?
#10. Some curry goodness cooked by a light weight. That's what.
Recipe and pictures tomorrow. I'm using "tomorrow" here in the broadest sense of the word.
Here are the two most important pictures from tonight's adventure:
#2. My friend Adriana rocks.
#3. I will not, I repeat, NOT be having tacos for Christmas Dinner next year. I've already got my sights set on a couple of killer recipes that I'm going to start practicing. Yes, I know its only February.
#4. It is the end of February and I still have long nails. Do I have any fellow long term nail biters out there? I never make it out of January with the "quit biting my nails" New Year's Resolution or my nails in tact. I know this is somewhat unrelated, but it didn't seem quite right as a facebook status update so I thought I'd just sneak it in here. Thanks for reading.
#5. I am a resolution-crossing-off-machine because it is the end of February and I have cooked circa 7 times. Disclaimer: This may be an exaggeration.
#6. I have more low quality iphone pictures of raw chicken in bad lighting than I ever imagined possible when I purchased my iphone3. I know you're now on the edge of your seats....inching closer to the screen... I really wouldn't do that if I were you. I mean, I want you to read this post, but I'd back up for the chicken pics.
#7. I am serious about my Foibles to Fabulous cooking journey. I am also serious about alliteration and the letter F. To prove to myself the seriousness of my determination to stare down the cooking dragon once and for all this year, I employed the help of my friend Adriana, who I mentioned in my first blog rant. I asked her to cook with me every Friday night and to the credit of her insanity and devotion to mine, she agreed.
#8. Tonight we cooked "Mild Green Calcutta Curry of Chicken and Vegetables" from Jewish Cooking: the Traditions, Techniques, Ingredients, and Recipes. <--- Hey! look I figured out how to do a link! If I had music on my blog, I'd play Madonna's "Like a Virgin/Linked for the very first time/like a vir..ir..ir...ir..gin...". Ok, anyway, you can click on that link and check out the book on Amazon. You can buy it new for $43 or used for $3. Apparently, it, too, has been a victim of the housing bubble. Not recommended as an investment piece.
I do recommend the recipe. Highlights for me were using coconut milk for the first time (vir...ir...ir..ir..gin) and using mint from my garden, albeit withered and ill-kept. If I had to pick one more highlight, it would be the way the spices and herbs looked so vibrant and colorful just before blending in my magic bullet blender (that my grandma bought for me off the TV). And the way the spices and herbs smelled so aromatic just after blending in said magic bullet blender. I assure you it was worth every penny of her $19.99. Actually, my particular magic bullet was free. Hers cost $19.99. She had fast fingers and called just in the nick of time to get mine as an additional at no extra cost.
#9. I don't need an inheritance.
So, what happens when you drag out your magic bullet and mix
six spices, herbs, onions, garlic, ginger,
chillies, lemon, coconut milk,
chicken stock, sugar, bananas,
sultanas (foodie for raisins),
pineapple, mint,
blood, sweat, tears
and a woman two glasses of white wine in on an empty stomach?
#10. Some curry goodness cooked by a light weight. That's what.
Recipe and pictures tomorrow. I'm using "tomorrow" here in the broadest sense of the word.
Here are the two most important pictures from tonight's adventure:
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
The Food of Christmas Past and Christmas Future
This blog is supposed to be about working through the fact that I avoid food, the cooking of food and the thinking about the preparing of food.
I have a new problem. I now avoid the blog.
For obvious reasons: blogging on this blog requires thinking about food. Is that a true "Catch 22"? (Where are you, Jenn Amano, when I need you?!) I'm still working my way through all the books I was supposed to read in high school. Maybe I'll stop writing this blog and go read Catch 22. Yes. Very good idea. Suddenly, I am filled with all kinds of regret for living so much of my life without knowing what that book is about, and therefore have most likely been misusing the phrase "Catch 22."
Me: "Nope. Its still January. I have to at least make it through this month of resolution."
Myself: "Losers cave on day eleven of the new year."
I: "An excellent point. Then, today is my very own day to cave!"
See. Now I'm having a conversation with myself to avoid admitting the fact that I freaked out so hard about the "Christmas Dinner Thing" that I ended up making tacos.
There, I said it. Yep. Tacos. They weren't even turkey tacos. Hey, now that I'm thinking about it, that would've been a good compromise. I'm storing that idea away for next year. I'll think of that next Christmas when I'm making some amazing french dish that takes two weeks to prepare. I'll laugh sentimentally to myself and say, "ah...ahem...ooo la la....I am so glad I stuck with that silly blog for now I am making "....****something in french****.....".
I really, really hope I'm not making fries for dinner next Christmas. Please, little blog, catapult me into culinary greatness. I'll settle for culinary normalness. Love, Jenny
Ok, its getting late. My other new year's resolution is to get to bed before 11. I set up my resolutions to help me rationalize getting out of my other resolutions. "I'd write more about food, but I need to stick with my bedtime resolution." If there isn't a loophole, where's the hope, right?
P.S. As soon as I figure out how to put pictures on here, I'll post my pictures from my morning at the open air market in "France" and also the pictures of the damage a person can do when improperly handling an artichoke. No person in particular. Just "a person".
I have a new problem. I now avoid the blog.
For obvious reasons: blogging on this blog requires thinking about food. Is that a true "Catch 22"? (Where are you, Jenn Amano, when I need you?!) I'm still working my way through all the books I was supposed to read in high school. Maybe I'll stop writing this blog and go read Catch 22. Yes. Very good idea. Suddenly, I am filled with all kinds of regret for living so much of my life without knowing what that book is about, and therefore have most likely been misusing the phrase "Catch 22."
Me: "Nope. Its still January. I have to at least make it through this month of resolution."
Myself: "Losers cave on day eleven of the new year."
I: "An excellent point. Then, today is my very own day to cave!"
See. Now I'm having a conversation with myself to avoid admitting the fact that I freaked out so hard about the "Christmas Dinner Thing" that I ended up making tacos.
There, I said it. Yep. Tacos. They weren't even turkey tacos. Hey, now that I'm thinking about it, that would've been a good compromise. I'm storing that idea away for next year. I'll think of that next Christmas when I'm making some amazing french dish that takes two weeks to prepare. I'll laugh sentimentally to myself and say, "ah...ahem...ooo la la....I am so glad I stuck with that silly blog for now I am making "....****something in french****.....".
I really, really hope I'm not making fries for dinner next Christmas. Please, little blog, catapult me into culinary greatness. I'll settle for culinary normalness. Love, Jenny
Ok, its getting late. My other new year's resolution is to get to bed before 11. I set up my resolutions to help me rationalize getting out of my other resolutions. "I'd write more about food, but I need to stick with my bedtime resolution." If there isn't a loophole, where's the hope, right?
P.S. As soon as I figure out how to put pictures on here, I'll post my pictures from my morning at the open air market in "France" and also the pictures of the damage a person can do when improperly handling an artichoke. No person in particular. Just "a person".
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