Because I don't have to. Is that good enough? Okay, no, there's more, I think. And I'm compelled to explore it further.
Tell me you like my sweater, and it's likely I'll respond with something similar to, "Thanks, it was only $20!" or "Thanks, I got it at the consignment store!" I am a proud bargain-hunter and deal-finder. I hate paying retail. I take advantage of sales on darn-near every other day of the year. I am a coupon-user, an impulse-sale-buyer, and a craigslist-customer.
My new couch was 25% off. My rocker for the babe's room was 20% off. I absolutely love that I get 5% off all of my Target purchases now with my Target Card.
You get that I love deals, right? Then why would someone who is SO against paying retail, so eager to look at used goods, and so enthusiastic about a new set of coupons in the mail absolutely REFUSE to shop on this sacred shopping day?
Because I don't have to. Maybe there's not more. But even as someone who is not phobic about crowds or people, I just can't imagine the deal that would be worth the lack of sleep, the cold, the parking, and the fools (not that all people who shop this day ARE fools, but gather any large group of people and you will encounter many fools). I don't want to deal with the fools. I don't need anything that cheap that badly.
But someday I might. That's the thing. Right now, I am a blessed woman who revels in deals because it's fun. If my couch was not 25% off, I still would've bought it. It just makes me happier that it was on sale. But I have been a person who revels in deals because they're necessary. Right now, I do not want for food, for clothes, for medicine, for money to pay the bills. But I have been there. I hope I will never be there again, but nothing is impossible.
If I am there again, I might definitely consider waiting in line at midnight to buy my daughter a Christmas gift I would not otherwise be able to afford. THAT I get. THAT I appreciate. But right now, I just don't see the point. For me. For you, dear friend, it might be the highlight of your Thanksgiving weekend. And that's fine with me, whether you really need the bargain or you just enjoy the bargain. To each her own. Just don't be one of the fools.
Friday, November 26, 2010
Thursday, October 14, 2010
My friend writes
I, clearly, do not. Since I promised to blog more this summer, but then didn't, it is obvious my dream of being a published author someday will merely remain a dream. Not so for my dear friend Molly. I've known she was being published for reals (she's been published in journals and online, but those obscurities [sorry, babe] don't seem as real to a non-author) for about a month, but today she sent me this link, which, despite its big-business capitalism, makes Molly's book REAL to me. Real, real. See for yourself:
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Recent-History-of-Middle-Sand-Lake/Molly-Sutton-Kiefer/e/9780978893170/?itm=1&USRI=recent+history+of+middle+sand+lake
In case you don't know Molly well enough, her professional website is here. Her blog is here. She writes beautiful poetry, takes marvelous pictures, and is due with her first baby girl two days before I'm due with my baby girl.
So proud of you, Molly!
http://search.barnesandnoble.com/The-Recent-History-of-Middle-Sand-Lake/Molly-Sutton-Kiefer/e/9780978893170/?itm=1&USRI=recent+history+of+middle+sand+lake
In case you don't know Molly well enough, her professional website is here. Her blog is here. She writes beautiful poetry, takes marvelous pictures, and is due with her first baby girl two days before I'm due with my baby girl.
So proud of you, Molly!
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Idle hands no more
Feeling sluggish this week, I decided to get my knitting out and try to remember how to do it. With a little help from my friends, I am now on a knitting rampage. I figure I can make the kid all sorts of stuff before it comes out! Tuesday, I practiced. Yesterday, I made a pair of booties. My first time ever following a knitting pattern. Here is the first one I completed, and in excitement, took a picture of:
The second one is smaller. So, they don't match. As Patrick said, "I hope these never fit the kid," because, obviously, if they did, he/she would have very mismatched feet.
Tonight, I went to Michael's to find a pattern or two to start work on. Well, I was very disappointed, because there were literally five times more pattern books for crocheting than for knitting. There was ONE baby afghan book for knitting. There were five for crocheting. There were ZERO layette books for knitting. There were three for crocheting. And like, six or seven assorted baby projects for crochet. But, that's just one store. So, I'm putting off those projects, even though I intend to make both of them before baby comes. I just think it'll be pretty cool to bring the baby home from the hospital in something I made.
Anyway, I didn't leave Michael's empty-handed. But I'm working on the first project now, and I will post a picture of it when I'm done. I'm pretty excited about it :-).
The second one is smaller. So, they don't match. As Patrick said, "I hope these never fit the kid," because, obviously, if they did, he/she would have very mismatched feet.
Tonight, I went to Michael's to find a pattern or two to start work on. Well, I was very disappointed, because there were literally five times more pattern books for crocheting than for knitting. There was ONE baby afghan book for knitting. There were five for crocheting. There were ZERO layette books for knitting. There were three for crocheting. And like, six or seven assorted baby projects for crochet. But, that's just one store. So, I'm putting off those projects, even though I intend to make both of them before baby comes. I just think it'll be pretty cool to bring the baby home from the hospital in something I made.
Anyway, I didn't leave Michael's empty-handed. But I'm working on the first project now, and I will post a picture of it when I'm done. I'm pretty excited about it :-).
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Adventures in Cooking
(Read about this yummy summer salad I made using my CSA ingredients at this blog.)
I have always enjoyed cooking and trying new recipes, and I am blessed with a husband who will try anything once (and twice sometimes, but he doesn't know it). This year, two new things regarding cooking are a part of my daily life.
1) We joined a CSA (that's community supported agriculture, for you novices). This means we get a box of produce from a local farm every week for 20 weeks for about $200. The excitement is you never know what'll come in your box. It forces you to experiment with new recipes and generally eat healthier. We've gotten two boxes so far, and have enjoyed kohlrabi, broccoli, lettuce, spinach, swiss chard, turnips, herbs, cabbage, and a few others I've forgotten at this time. Read all about it (if you care) on this blog, which I share with my other dear friends who are also enjoying shares from the same farm.
2) I now have a kitchen garden, as they say. I am a rookie gardener who is amazed at the growth in my plants in the first month. From 3 inches, to almost 3 feet for those tomatoes. In a MONTH! Crazy. I haven't had the opportunity to use anything from my garden but the lettuce so far, but there's all sorts of stuff that'll be gracing my plate come July and August. You can follow my gardening progress on this blog, which is just me :-).
Please enjoy my adventures in cooking and [other] blogging.
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Brief, but important
I will make this as quick and painless as possible, but I am compelled to document this feeling.
My maternal grandpa died only a couple of months after I was born. My paternal grandpa died when I was 12. My daddy died when I was 15. Although it was lovely to get a father-in-law (a fabulous one!) a few years ago, mostly, Father's Day has just been a painful reminder of what I lost too early for many, many years. It has never passed without me feeling incredibly sad. (In case anyone who has lost a parent or anyone close to you wonders, the sadness of their loss never wanes; you only learn how to deal with it better in time.)
Every day I think about my dad. So many things remind me of him. Experiences, emotions, objects, random-ass weird things (this makes sense if you knew my dad), and just about anything else. Lately, of course, I remember how much he wanted to be a grandpa. Believe me or not, (and even I'm not always certain he was kidding) when he knew he was dying, I was 14. I had a "steady" boyfriend. He joked (I hope) all the time that I should quick have a baby so he could have a grandchild. I could still go to school and all that, for he pledged to take care of it. And because I remember the care he took braiding my hair while I sat on the edge of the couch before my P.M. kindergarten, I know he would've been a super grandpa. He was full of love above all things. The sadness creeps in.
Today, however, is a renewed feeling for this holiday, for there is now a new father in my life. The father of MY baby. And although his child is only 11 weeks along in my tummy, he has already proven in countless ways that he will be a superb father. His own role model for this position is, as earlier mentioned, an absolutely wonderful man, and my husband will only continue what appears to be a family tradition of excellence. This man who already takes such good care of me will soon be taking the best care of our child. A woman could not possibly be happier.
So, now I can say with confidence once again, "Happy Father's Day."
My maternal grandpa died only a couple of months after I was born. My paternal grandpa died when I was 12. My daddy died when I was 15. Although it was lovely to get a father-in-law (a fabulous one!) a few years ago, mostly, Father's Day has just been a painful reminder of what I lost too early for many, many years. It has never passed without me feeling incredibly sad. (In case anyone who has lost a parent or anyone close to you wonders, the sadness of their loss never wanes; you only learn how to deal with it better in time.)
Every day I think about my dad. So many things remind me of him. Experiences, emotions, objects, random-ass weird things (this makes sense if you knew my dad), and just about anything else. Lately, of course, I remember how much he wanted to be a grandpa. Believe me or not, (and even I'm not always certain he was kidding) when he knew he was dying, I was 14. I had a "steady" boyfriend. He joked (I hope) all the time that I should quick have a baby so he could have a grandchild. I could still go to school and all that, for he pledged to take care of it. And because I remember the care he took braiding my hair while I sat on the edge of the couch before my P.M. kindergarten, I know he would've been a super grandpa. He was full of love above all things. The sadness creeps in.
Today, however, is a renewed feeling for this holiday, for there is now a new father in my life. The father of MY baby. And although his child is only 11 weeks along in my tummy, he has already proven in countless ways that he will be a superb father. His own role model for this position is, as earlier mentioned, an absolutely wonderful man, and my husband will only continue what appears to be a family tradition of excellence. This man who already takes such good care of me will soon be taking the best care of our child. A woman could not possibly be happier.
So, now I can say with confidence once again, "Happy Father's Day."
Tuesday, June 15, 2010
New things
So, it's been 6 months, and many will never read this because they gave up on me entirely, but I will start to post on here again. Mostly because it's summer and I not only have more free time, but more interesting things about which to write.
I've never been good at any sort of diary or journal regularity. I write when inspiration hits. I've been meaning to start keeping track of the important dates in my pregnancy, and what better place than here. So here are some tidbits:
February- I stop taking the pill and calculate that if I AM ovulating, I will be doing so on our Mexican vacation. The official trying to have a baby begins.
March 9- Period comes. Not surprised...who gets pregnant after one month of trying after being on the pill for 11 years?
April 5- Just home from visiting Jen in Texas, and yup, my period comes. Again, only two months. No big deal.
April 26- I think I'm pregnant. I'm so sure, for some reason, that I lose all sense of patience and stop at Walgreens on my way home from work to buy a pregnancy test. I take one immediately when I get home. I had read online that even if your expected period is 10 days away, there's like a 40% chance there'll be enough hcg (the pregnancy hormone) in your system to detect it. This is deviant behavior, my taking this test, because I had promised Patrick we'd find out together. Believe it or not, at age 28, this is my very first pregnancy test (I'm very careful). Well, the fates must've agreed this behavior was deviant, because the test is negative. I admit my moment of weakness over dinner, and assure Pat that it doesn't mean we're not pregnant. In fact, despite the test, I still think I am. I don't know exactly why. But I contemplate taking the other test every day that week. Wise husband convinces me to be patient. I convince myself to wait until the next Monday, when my period is supposed to come.
May 1- Saturday. I really, really want to take the test. Patrick says go ahead. But, we're going to have dinner with his family, and I decide that if it's negative, I'll be down, and won't have as much fun. So, I decide not to take it. But still believing I'm pregnant, I don't drink. My sister-in-law notices this immediately and begins the "You're pregnant, aren't you?" conversation with the whole room. Despite our trying to change the subject, they keep teasing. In my head I'm thinking, "YES! I hope so, so shut up and stop jinxing it!" To little avail.
May 2- Sunday morning. No plans. Just got up and sitting in the living room. I stand up, "I'm gonna take the test. Okay?" He says, "That's up to you." So, I take it. I wait. I go back into the bathroom. And there it is. VERY faint, but that second line is there. Because of my previously stated research, I know that a false positive is next to impossible, and that any line, no matter how faint, means you're pregnant. So, I slowly walk back into the living room, my hands covering my mouth, and tell Pat. "It's positive! We're pregnant!" He gets up from his chair and we hug and hug. I drag him in there to look at it. We are thrilled. We go out to breakfast at The Egg and I to celebrate.
May 3- All day at work I am crampy and worried I'm getting my period. I go to the bathroom like 4 times. This time anxiety, not impatience, gets me to stop and buy more pregnancy tests. This time, I get the digital one. I again take it immediately. Within a minute, it says, "Pregnant." Hurrah. Then I start reading stuff to find out if my cramps are normal. Of course they are. With the initial fear of being wrong behind me, I decide I can't possibly keep this to myself, so I call my sister. She was about 10 times more excited than Pat and I put together. It was the most fun I had telling anyone. I wish it could've been in person.
May 9- Mother's Day. I get breakfast in bed and flowers from my husband, and two cards in the mail, one from Jen B. and one from Les. Many more cards and gifts come from friends in the next few weeks. I am thrilled with each one. We had waited to tell my mom, so we could tell her on Mother's Day. I got her the usual hanging plant, but with a "grandma" mother's day card. We're taking her out to brunch, so we were just picking her up, but I insist on coming in quick to pee, and then make her open her card before we go. Pat and I stand in anticipation and she puts her reading glasses on, opens the envelope, and just stares at it. I'm thinking, "Can't she read?" She slowly turns to me and says, "You're not messing with me, are you?" Classic. "No," I whine. So, she screams and starts jumping up and down. Yay.
May 10- Now that Mom knows, the news goes virtual, as I post it on facebook. It is super fun in the following days and weeks to be congratulated and asked about it.
May 20- First appointment, but it is only with nurses. They give me all the info I need to get started. Most importantly, I am told to stop taking my Prilosec for my acid reflux. I now have heartburn almost 24/7.
June 2- First appointment with doctor. She examines me and says everything is great. She tells us not to be disappointed or worried if she can't find a heartbeat, because at only 8 weeks, it's unlikely. But she finds it almost immediately. And it's strong. And amazing. I can still hear it in my head. Of course, I can also hear it for "real" if I want, because Patrick does an uncanny impersonation of it. Sounds weird, but he can replicate the sound almost perfectly. The doctor finds this odd, though, and suspects I may be further along than 8 weeks. So, to my delight, she orders me an early ultrasound. We are unable to schedule it to the following week, however.
June 11- Ultrasound! At 9 1/2 weeks, I didn't even need to do the vaginal ultrasound (use your imagination), so it was very easy and quick. She said all was well, I was right where I was supposed to be, and everything was peachy. Due date: January 10. It was amazing to see the baby on screen. He/she moved his/her little arms and legs all around. I didn't expect it to be moving like that. It was so cool. Proof that there is a life inside of me. This time, we had dinner to celebrate, and we went to Brasa.
Now, I am at ten weeks, and one day. So far, so good. Time to pack for my trip to Arkansas.
I've never been good at any sort of diary or journal regularity. I write when inspiration hits. I've been meaning to start keeping track of the important dates in my pregnancy, and what better place than here. So here are some tidbits:
February- I stop taking the pill and calculate that if I AM ovulating, I will be doing so on our Mexican vacation. The official trying to have a baby begins.
March 9- Period comes. Not surprised...who gets pregnant after one month of trying after being on the pill for 11 years?
April 5- Just home from visiting Jen in Texas, and yup, my period comes. Again, only two months. No big deal.
April 26- I think I'm pregnant. I'm so sure, for some reason, that I lose all sense of patience and stop at Walgreens on my way home from work to buy a pregnancy test. I take one immediately when I get home. I had read online that even if your expected period is 10 days away, there's like a 40% chance there'll be enough hcg (the pregnancy hormone) in your system to detect it. This is deviant behavior, my taking this test, because I had promised Patrick we'd find out together. Believe it or not, at age 28, this is my very first pregnancy test (I'm very careful). Well, the fates must've agreed this behavior was deviant, because the test is negative. I admit my moment of weakness over dinner, and assure Pat that it doesn't mean we're not pregnant. In fact, despite the test, I still think I am. I don't know exactly why. But I contemplate taking the other test every day that week. Wise husband convinces me to be patient. I convince myself to wait until the next Monday, when my period is supposed to come.
May 1- Saturday. I really, really want to take the test. Patrick says go ahead. But, we're going to have dinner with his family, and I decide that if it's negative, I'll be down, and won't have as much fun. So, I decide not to take it. But still believing I'm pregnant, I don't drink. My sister-in-law notices this immediately and begins the "You're pregnant, aren't you?" conversation with the whole room. Despite our trying to change the subject, they keep teasing. In my head I'm thinking, "YES! I hope so, so shut up and stop jinxing it!" To little avail.
May 2- Sunday morning. No plans. Just got up and sitting in the living room. I stand up, "I'm gonna take the test. Okay?" He says, "That's up to you." So, I take it. I wait. I go back into the bathroom. And there it is. VERY faint, but that second line is there. Because of my previously stated research, I know that a false positive is next to impossible, and that any line, no matter how faint, means you're pregnant. So, I slowly walk back into the living room, my hands covering my mouth, and tell Pat. "It's positive! We're pregnant!" He gets up from his chair and we hug and hug. I drag him in there to look at it. We are thrilled. We go out to breakfast at The Egg and I to celebrate.
May 3- All day at work I am crampy and worried I'm getting my period. I go to the bathroom like 4 times. This time anxiety, not impatience, gets me to stop and buy more pregnancy tests. This time, I get the digital one. I again take it immediately. Within a minute, it says, "Pregnant." Hurrah. Then I start reading stuff to find out if my cramps are normal. Of course they are. With the initial fear of being wrong behind me, I decide I can't possibly keep this to myself, so I call my sister. She was about 10 times more excited than Pat and I put together. It was the most fun I had telling anyone. I wish it could've been in person.
May 9- Mother's Day. I get breakfast in bed and flowers from my husband, and two cards in the mail, one from Jen B. and one from Les. Many more cards and gifts come from friends in the next few weeks. I am thrilled with each one. We had waited to tell my mom, so we could tell her on Mother's Day. I got her the usual hanging plant, but with a "grandma" mother's day card. We're taking her out to brunch, so we were just picking her up, but I insist on coming in quick to pee, and then make her open her card before we go. Pat and I stand in anticipation and she puts her reading glasses on, opens the envelope, and just stares at it. I'm thinking, "Can't she read?" She slowly turns to me and says, "You're not messing with me, are you?" Classic. "No," I whine. So, she screams and starts jumping up and down. Yay.
May 10- Now that Mom knows, the news goes virtual, as I post it on facebook. It is super fun in the following days and weeks to be congratulated and asked about it.
May 20- First appointment, but it is only with nurses. They give me all the info I need to get started. Most importantly, I am told to stop taking my Prilosec for my acid reflux. I now have heartburn almost 24/7.
June 2- First appointment with doctor. She examines me and says everything is great. She tells us not to be disappointed or worried if she can't find a heartbeat, because at only 8 weeks, it's unlikely. But she finds it almost immediately. And it's strong. And amazing. I can still hear it in my head. Of course, I can also hear it for "real" if I want, because Patrick does an uncanny impersonation of it. Sounds weird, but he can replicate the sound almost perfectly. The doctor finds this odd, though, and suspects I may be further along than 8 weeks. So, to my delight, she orders me an early ultrasound. We are unable to schedule it to the following week, however.
June 11- Ultrasound! At 9 1/2 weeks, I didn't even need to do the vaginal ultrasound (use your imagination), so it was very easy and quick. She said all was well, I was right where I was supposed to be, and everything was peachy. Due date: January 10. It was amazing to see the baby on screen. He/she moved his/her little arms and legs all around. I didn't expect it to be moving like that. It was so cool. Proof that there is a life inside of me. This time, we had dinner to celebrate, and we went to Brasa.
Now, I am at ten weeks, and one day. So far, so good. Time to pack for my trip to Arkansas.
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Snow Day!
Home sweet home. In my pajamas watching TV and drinking coffee. I would be teaching fourth period right now, but no. This is the second time we've had a snow day in five years. I had almost forgotten how wonderful it is. Except for that I should go shovel. I don't want to. Pat usually shovels. He's not here. He's out of town. Boo. I miss him and all, but I might miss his shoveling abilities more :-).
No witty insights today. Brain off. Except I will use it to grade papers later. Yes, I brought them home just in case. Hard to let go completely.
No witty insights today. Brain off. Except I will use it to grade papers later. Yes, I brought them home just in case. Hard to let go completely.
Thursday, November 5, 2009
Vacation, not so much...
For weeks I had been asking Pat what he wanted for his birthday. His usual response is "nothing". I don't approve of this. I am a celebrator, and I expect others to be as well. So, because his birthday is the week before MEA break, I thought we could go up north for a long weekend. I found the website vrbo.com through craigslist. It's vacation rentals by owner. It's pretty neato. I searched all the dog-friendly cabins available, trying to find one that was a) reasonably priced, b) not too big (some available can sleep over 20!), c) on a lake, and d) near some activities. After much searching, we found one near Lake Itasca, with a pontoon and a hot tub. The nice old widower who owns it was going to give us a great deal, since it was October and all. We were very excited.
We were planning on leaving Thursday morning around 9. Wednesday night at about 6, the guy called. He double-booked the cabin. The other folks got there on Wednesday, so he couldn't ask them to leave. He offered us his house for free (he felt reallllly bad), but it didn't have any of the things we wanted: no hot tub, no boat, not on the lake. We figured it would be like being here, but four hours away. So, we decided to stay home.
So, even though I abhor the term, we had ourselves a stayacation.
Because our goal was to go hiking and such up north, we decided to do it from here. We went to a different park from out "60 Hikes Within 60 Miles" book each day. It rained most of the time, but that just meant we had the trails mostly to ourselves. One day we were out at Wild River State Park, walking over 8 miles, and it started to hail! We also went to the Wildlife Reserve and Bass Lake near highway 77, the Coon Rapids dam, and the Miesville Ravine Park Reserve. All were very fun. We probably walked over 20 miles that weekend.
We also went to a movie and got a few things done around the house. I would go so far as to say our staycation was better than our vacation was supposed to be. And we were never upset about it. Things are either meant to be or they're not. Sometimes it's that simple.
We were planning on leaving Thursday morning around 9. Wednesday night at about 6, the guy called. He double-booked the cabin. The other folks got there on Wednesday, so he couldn't ask them to leave. He offered us his house for free (he felt reallllly bad), but it didn't have any of the things we wanted: no hot tub, no boat, not on the lake. We figured it would be like being here, but four hours away. So, we decided to stay home.
So, even though I abhor the term, we had ourselves a stayacation.
Because our goal was to go hiking and such up north, we decided to do it from here. We went to a different park from out "60 Hikes Within 60 Miles" book each day. It rained most of the time, but that just meant we had the trails mostly to ourselves. One day we were out at Wild River State Park, walking over 8 miles, and it started to hail! We also went to the Wildlife Reserve and Bass Lake near highway 77, the Coon Rapids dam, and the Miesville Ravine Park Reserve. All were very fun. We probably walked over 20 miles that weekend.
We also went to a movie and got a few things done around the house. I would go so far as to say our staycation was better than our vacation was supposed to be. And we were never upset about it. Things are either meant to be or they're not. Sometimes it's that simple.
Playing Catch-up
I often think, "I will blog about this." But, as you know, I rarely do. I don't know why exactly, but I feel like I lose the motivation. I have issues with motivation. I have all sorts of good ideas, all the time. But I very rarely follow through. I'm going to try to re-live some of the things I wish I would've blogged about weeks ago. Mostly because I'm home sick and have the time.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Bounty
I am feeling well again, as easily as I felt sick. This body of mine is a mystery.
Last night I made my weekly menu. For the first time in months, literally, I will be making nine meals at home (I plan Monday-Sunday, including lunch on Saturday and Sunday). Oh, how a social calendar can dwindle when the days get shorter. My menu looks like this (all recipes, as usual, come from The American Heart Association cookbooks, of which I have two):
Monday- French-style braised sole with quinoa and green beans
Tuesday- Chicken and Potato Casserole with mushroom sauce, spinach salad
Wednesday- Grilled steak and zucchini with mashed potatoes
Thursday- Baked Crab Maryland, spinach salad
Friday- Chicken fajitas with spanish rice and beans
Saturday- (lunch) turkey and swiss paninis with apple and broccoli salad (dinner) spinach-stuffed veggie pizza
Sunday- (lunch) leftover pizza (I've made this before and it is thick like pie: impossible to eat in one meal) (dinner) spaghetti with homemade meat sauce, garlic bread and spinach salad
To best serve my menu, my body, and my community, I got up at 7:00 this morning to hit the St. Paul farmer's market. I like the SP one the most, because it is easy to park, easy to maneuver, and easy to leave. And it's right next to Black Dog cafe, where I like to get a treat and coffee. Armed with two shopping bags (I couldn't possibly need more...), I began to shop. My bounty included:
9 Red potatoes
green beans
8 fat carrots
7 small and 4 large onions, both white and red
6 green peppers
8 Haralson apples
2 huge bunches of spinach (one kept fresh, one blanched and frozen)
1 bunch of parsley (some fresh for this week, the rest frozen into ice cube trays)
1 very large zucchini
4 heads of broccoli (I do not need this much, but it looked so lovely and keeps well)
1 dozen brown eggs
I barely made it to the car, especially since I had coffee in one hand! I have said it on facebook before, but I will say it again here: don't buy more than you can carry! Alas, I never remember. Perhaps I should stop going to the market alone?
In addition to the fresh, local goodness of it all, I love this as well: all of the above for $28. Can't beat that with a stick. I will supplement the rest of my menu plans with a trip to the supermarket this afternoon. Whole Foods for bulk (I am out of flour and sugar, both needed this week); and good ol' SuperTarget for the rest.
I hope you enjoy your eating week as much as I will mine :-).
Last night I made my weekly menu. For the first time in months, literally, I will be making nine meals at home (I plan Monday-Sunday, including lunch on Saturday and Sunday). Oh, how a social calendar can dwindle when the days get shorter. My menu looks like this (all recipes, as usual, come from The American Heart Association cookbooks, of which I have two):
Monday- French-style braised sole with quinoa and green beans
Tuesday- Chicken and Potato Casserole with mushroom sauce, spinach salad
Wednesday- Grilled steak and zucchini with mashed potatoes
Thursday- Baked Crab Maryland, spinach salad
Friday- Chicken fajitas with spanish rice and beans
Saturday- (lunch) turkey and swiss paninis with apple and broccoli salad (dinner) spinach-stuffed veggie pizza
Sunday- (lunch) leftover pizza (I've made this before and it is thick like pie: impossible to eat in one meal) (dinner) spaghetti with homemade meat sauce, garlic bread and spinach salad
To best serve my menu, my body, and my community, I got up at 7:00 this morning to hit the St. Paul farmer's market. I like the SP one the most, because it is easy to park, easy to maneuver, and easy to leave. And it's right next to Black Dog cafe, where I like to get a treat and coffee. Armed with two shopping bags (I couldn't possibly need more...), I began to shop. My bounty included:
9 Red potatoes
green beans
8 fat carrots
7 small and 4 large onions, both white and red
6 green peppers
8 Haralson apples
2 huge bunches of spinach (one kept fresh, one blanched and frozen)
1 bunch of parsley (some fresh for this week, the rest frozen into ice cube trays)
1 very large zucchini
4 heads of broccoli (I do not need this much, but it looked so lovely and keeps well)
1 dozen brown eggs
I barely made it to the car, especially since I had coffee in one hand! I have said it on facebook before, but I will say it again here: don't buy more than you can carry! Alas, I never remember. Perhaps I should stop going to the market alone?
In addition to the fresh, local goodness of it all, I love this as well: all of the above for $28. Can't beat that with a stick. I will supplement the rest of my menu plans with a trip to the supermarket this afternoon. Whole Foods for bulk (I am out of flour and sugar, both needed this week); and good ol' SuperTarget for the rest.
I hope you enjoy your eating week as much as I will mine :-).
Friday, September 25, 2009
Okay, okay...How to Survive 2.0
(I have once again neglected my blog. Thanks to Les and Jen for reminding me. It's funny how I want to write a book someday, but I can't even stay current with my one literary output.)
How to Survive a Building Project with Your Husband (who reads this blog...)
For the last three months, my darling husband and I have been working on making our backyard the sanctuary we always hoped it could be. Together we have built a deck, two large planters (okay, I only designed and picked out the materials for these), and are 70% done with our patio. The plan is to finish the patio completely tomorrow, if the rain decides to stop (and my body decides to heal; yes, regular readers, I am sick again).
Doing anything with my spouse is fun. That's generally why we got hitched in the first place. But when we create things together, it is enormously rewarding. The working side-by-side, sharing the joys and the frustrations, feels like love to me. But we are both very smart and capable people, so working together can be tricky (this is assuming it's easy for dumb and clueless people to take orders from others?). For example, he doesn't so much like cooking, but he will cook with me when I ask. When we cook together, I'm the Head Chef, and he's the Sous Chef. It's definitely a joint effort, but someone has to be in charge. He knows a lot, but I know more. It's my arena. With building projects, the roles are reversed. He's the Foreman, and I'm the Grunt (sometimes literally, as I often just schlep the tools and materials around; I'm very good at handing things to him). So, here it is, version 2.0 of how to survive life, rules to surviving a building project with your husband:
1. He is not always right. Ha! Betcha thought it would be he IS always right! Couldn't be farther from the truth. It is very important to speak up if you think something is wrong or could be done differently. It is equally important to be as tactful as possible in these situations. He is not WRONG. You are making an observation or a suggestion. Mostly, this is because later, if you have kept your mouth shut and you say something, he will inevitably say, "Why didn't you say that before?" Now, my husband is awesome, so he does not feel threatened. Often, he asks for my opinion/help/etc. If your husband is a jerk about it, you should probably let him work alone.
2. Let him carry the heavy stuff. I was in pain for days after moving 150 42-pound patio stones from point A to point B. Do the math; that's 6,300 lbs. of concrete! I moved it in 1 1/2 hours. Men (at least mine) are built for that stuff.
2A. Recognize that he gets sore, too. Take breaks. Rub each other's muscles. Take hot bubble baths together. It's a nice reward at the end of a hard work day.
3. It's okay to play the girl card. You are working together because it's fun and it'd be silly for one person to go it alone. That's why you get yourself a life partner: no alone-going. But unless you're super-girl, there's some stuff you just can't do. I, for example, cannot handle a jackhammer, a tiller, a compactor, or a sledge hammer. And I'm strong. You read the about the 6,300 lbs., right?
4. Make breakfast; make snacks; mix the Gatorade; make lunch; but go out to supper. I know my husband thoroughly appreciates my willingness to prepare the foodstuffs during the working times, but I see it as a break. But, because I'm being helpful and productive, it is not viewed as a break. Win/win. After worktime, however, I'm beat. Someone run to Subway. Possibly on the way home from yet another Menard's trip. Which leads to...
5. Be prepared to run to the store at any time. We're lucky. We live within 5 miles of Menard's, 10 miles of Home Depot, and 2 miles of two local hardware stores. Running to the store is easy for us. We have run out of things, changed our mind about things, or simply forgotten things. Better to just go get the right widget than to stress over it. You'll be back before you know it.
5A. You can play the girl card at the hardware store, too. Especially if you look cute in your work clothes. I, of course, always look cute, so this is easy. Men will carry things for you, help you pick things out, or just ask you 800 times if they can help you.
5B. Above rule does not apply if said husband is with you. Sorry.
6. As mentioned in #1, make suggestions, but let him make all the big decisions. He's the Foreman. Trust his decisions. He will be the first to say if they don't work out. Then you can work together to change or fix (or ignore).
7. Compliment his good decisions. This sounds like placation, and maybe it is, but it's important. I am SUPER sad when I don't get complimented on my cooking. Everyone likes a good "atta boy!"
8. Be appreciative. You are working hard, but because of that whole big-strong-man-doing-all-the-hard-work situation, he is undoubtedly working harder than you. Because let's be honest, if it were up to you, you would've hired someone to do while you two sip lemonade.
9. MOST IMPORTANTLY: Have fun. If you get in a snip, get out of it just as fast. Working together is awesome fun and rewarding. Don't ruin it with a quarrel. Laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh. But don't take it too far. He won't like it when you jokingly spray him with the hose. Trust me.
How to Survive a Building Project with Your Husband (who reads this blog...)
For the last three months, my darling husband and I have been working on making our backyard the sanctuary we always hoped it could be. Together we have built a deck, two large planters (okay, I only designed and picked out the materials for these), and are 70% done with our patio. The plan is to finish the patio completely tomorrow, if the rain decides to stop (and my body decides to heal; yes, regular readers, I am sick again).
Doing anything with my spouse is fun. That's generally why we got hitched in the first place. But when we create things together, it is enormously rewarding. The working side-by-side, sharing the joys and the frustrations, feels like love to me. But we are both very smart and capable people, so working together can be tricky (this is assuming it's easy for dumb and clueless people to take orders from others?). For example, he doesn't so much like cooking, but he will cook with me when I ask. When we cook together, I'm the Head Chef, and he's the Sous Chef. It's definitely a joint effort, but someone has to be in charge. He knows a lot, but I know more. It's my arena. With building projects, the roles are reversed. He's the Foreman, and I'm the Grunt (sometimes literally, as I often just schlep the tools and materials around; I'm very good at handing things to him). So, here it is, version 2.0 of how to survive life, rules to surviving a building project with your husband:
1. He is not always right. Ha! Betcha thought it would be he IS always right! Couldn't be farther from the truth. It is very important to speak up if you think something is wrong or could be done differently. It is equally important to be as tactful as possible in these situations. He is not WRONG. You are making an observation or a suggestion. Mostly, this is because later, if you have kept your mouth shut and you say something, he will inevitably say, "Why didn't you say that before?" Now, my husband is awesome, so he does not feel threatened. Often, he asks for my opinion/help/etc. If your husband is a jerk about it, you should probably let him work alone.
2. Let him carry the heavy stuff. I was in pain for days after moving 150 42-pound patio stones from point A to point B. Do the math; that's 6,300 lbs. of concrete! I moved it in 1 1/2 hours. Men (at least mine) are built for that stuff.
2A. Recognize that he gets sore, too. Take breaks. Rub each other's muscles. Take hot bubble baths together. It's a nice reward at the end of a hard work day.
3. It's okay to play the girl card. You are working together because it's fun and it'd be silly for one person to go it alone. That's why you get yourself a life partner: no alone-going. But unless you're super-girl, there's some stuff you just can't do. I, for example, cannot handle a jackhammer, a tiller, a compactor, or a sledge hammer. And I'm strong. You read the about the 6,300 lbs., right?
4. Make breakfast; make snacks; mix the Gatorade; make lunch; but go out to supper. I know my husband thoroughly appreciates my willingness to prepare the foodstuffs during the working times, but I see it as a break. But, because I'm being helpful and productive, it is not viewed as a break. Win/win. After worktime, however, I'm beat. Someone run to Subway. Possibly on the way home from yet another Menard's trip. Which leads to...
5. Be prepared to run to the store at any time. We're lucky. We live within 5 miles of Menard's, 10 miles of Home Depot, and 2 miles of two local hardware stores. Running to the store is easy for us. We have run out of things, changed our mind about things, or simply forgotten things. Better to just go get the right widget than to stress over it. You'll be back before you know it.
5A. You can play the girl card at the hardware store, too. Especially if you look cute in your work clothes. I, of course, always look cute, so this is easy. Men will carry things for you, help you pick things out, or just ask you 800 times if they can help you.
5B. Above rule does not apply if said husband is with you. Sorry.
6. As mentioned in #1, make suggestions, but let him make all the big decisions. He's the Foreman. Trust his decisions. He will be the first to say if they don't work out. Then you can work together to change or fix (or ignore).
7. Compliment his good decisions. This sounds like placation, and maybe it is, but it's important. I am SUPER sad when I don't get complimented on my cooking. Everyone likes a good "atta boy!"
8. Be appreciative. You are working hard, but because of that whole big-strong-man-doing-all-the-hard-work situation, he is undoubtedly working harder than you. Because let's be honest, if it were up to you, you would've hired someone to do while you two sip lemonade.
9. MOST IMPORTANTLY: Have fun. If you get in a snip, get out of it just as fast. Working together is awesome fun and rewarding. Don't ruin it with a quarrel. Laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh, laugh. But don't take it too far. He won't like it when you jokingly spray him with the hose. Trust me.
Monday, August 24, 2009
How to Survive 1.0
To remind myself and to help others, I am going to start blogging about personal survival strategies in difficult situations. (This is also a prompt I can use over and over to entice me to keep blogging.)
Today's Topic: A busy Sunday afternoon's visit to SuperTarget
I have often said, "If you can't buy it at SuperTarget, you don't need it." My husband would argue Menard's should be added, but I rarely shop there myself. That's his territory. This is not to say that I ONLY shop at Target, I love me some good local businesses, but if you think about it, REALLY think about it, all the things you REALLY need, can be found at good ol' ST. My ST of choice is the one off Cedar in Richfield, because it is the closest to my house and is on the way home from work. Easy peasy. I like to shop once a week, usually on a Sunday, for my weekly needs, including groceries. I will admit I have been known to make several other stops during the week for random necessities and/or treats, usually on the way home from the aforementioned work. However, going to ST on a Sunday afternoon is not always simple. I have established ten easy-to-follow rules for surviving this daunting task. In no particular order:
1. Make a list. Make a list. Make a list. Make a list. I plan my dinner menu for the week on Sunday, writing down the ingredients I need to go with each as I plan. This cuts down on last-minute trips to the store and helps me stay organized all week. Make your ingredient list first, then go through your fridge and pantry crossing off things you already have (skip this step if you have a good memory; I remember I have flour, but do I still have kalamata olives in that jar? Best to check, lest you end up with 4 jars of peanut butter in your pantry like me.) After you've got your ingredients down, consider your other needs: ask your husband if he needs anything (this week: wasp killer and velcro straps), check the bathroom (TP, deodorant, toothpaste, etc.), check your fridge and pantry again for staples. Put everything on the list. Never assume you'll remember.
1.A. While at the store, do not deviate from the list!!! This is very important for your time, your pocketbook, and your waistline. Cross things off as you shop. I like to mark each thing on my list before I get to the store with a D, F, C, M, P, or O (dairy, frozen, cupboard, meat, produce, other) and then make sure I have everything from that section before leaving it. Nothing like forgetting milk from back-of-the-store dairy when you're already in front-of-the-store produce.
1.B. There are exceptions to the no deviating from the list rule. They are
-cool clearance items, applicable in any department (no, I did not neeeeed that bamboo cookie jar, but at that price, I'll find a need! For the record, it is the new catch-all on my microwave.)
-items that store well and are on [good] sale (this week: steak and chicken; used so often, they can chill in the freezer until recipes require their deliciousness)
-fresh fruits and veggies, especially when they're on sale unexpectedly (did I plan to buy watermelon? no, but it was only $1.99!); you can always use more of these, just make sure you remember to eat them. DON'T let them go bad, what a waste!
-things you obviously need, but simply forgot to put on your list (this week: eggs and bread; duh)
2. You are not in a hurry. Even if you really ARE in a hurry, your attitude must reflect that you are NOT. ST has a propensity to rearrange quite frequently. This can be annoying only if you allow yourself to be annoyed. So, you have to walk all the way across the store and back for an item that you believed was just by the pharmacy. It's okay. It's not that far, and it's good for your thighs.
2.A. To aid your not-in-a-hurry attitude, park far away, and near a cart corral if possible. You'll thank me later.
3. Starbucks helps. Whoever said, "Hey, you know what we should do? Put Starbucks INSIDE SuperTarget!" is my personal hero. I like to start my visit with beverage large enough to last my entire shopping trip (this week: venti cold press with skim milk and sweetener). This leisurely practice of ordering, customizing, and then enjoying while you wander the aisles also helps wonderfully with rule #2. Sip, walk, sip, walk, sigh. Ahhhhhh, SuperTarget.
4. Every person's needs are more important than your own. This piggybacks on #2 also. Cart-crossing? Let the other person go first. Someone cut in the deli line? No scene necessary; spend the extra time admiring the beautiful cakes in the bakery. You are the most polite person in the store. It always takes less energy to be calm than to be angry. Have a few more sips of your Starbucks beverage and relax.
5. Every child is adorable. The crazy kid playing leap frog in the very busy aisle? TOO cute! The crying babies? Poor things, they just want to go home. Double-wide stroller blocking the whole aisle while dad talks on his cell? Offer the twins some frappuchino. Kids are EVERYWHERE in ST. You must embrace their presence, for I'm sure they would rather be out playing kickball anyway. Feel sorry for them. Love them. SMILE AT THEM! It's fun to see which ones smile back.
6. After you've gotten everything from your "O" list (other: shampoo, underwear, velcro straps, what have you), head to grocery. Start at the back in dairy and frozen. This will keep you on track. There are now perishable and frozen goods in your cart. You may not saunter back to see if flip-flops are on clearance yet. You should have thought of that before. Time's a tickin'. Be mindful; you are still NOT in a hurry, but now you have a mission.
7. Always, always end in produce. No one likes a squished nectarine or kiwi (on my list this week for the salsa to go with grilled tuna steaks....jealous?)
8. If all check-out lines are long, pick the one with the magazines. Then you have something to read while you wait. Bonus leisure time! You'll be bummed when it's finally your turn.
9. The check-out person is your new best friend. Don't be afraid to ask for things. (eg: May I have your scanning gun so I don't have to lift the dog food off the cart?) Don't be afraid to talk to them. It's boring to just stand there and watch them scan and bag, scan and bag. Ask them about their work. Make general niceties. They're much more likely to do you favors if you're nice to them (this, of course, is true in all situations at all times). Favors? From check-out girl/guy? Oh, yes. Possibilities include: believing you instead of running a price check; double-bagging (though you should really bring your own bags; I have 4 and shop with them only every other week, because in Mpls, we have to sort our recycling in paper bags...grrrrrrr.), taking your garbage (empty Starbucks cup, people), and many other surprising needs. If I see a manager walking by or pass one on my way out, I am happy to tell them how great an employee so-and-so is. I don't wait around for one (frozen food and all), but if you pass one and he/she is not busy, it will make his/her day and the employee's day to hear it.
10. As you walk out, be proud of yourself. You just enjoyed a stress-free trip to SuperTarget. And because you are parked so far back, you are now near the exit and nowhere near the crazy, hurried people who are waiting for parking spots in the front, thus blocking traffic. You can glide out of your spot easily and hit the road.
Remember, it's much less stressful to spend an hour and a half following my simple rules at a relaxed pace than to spend 30 minutes freaking out about every little thing. Be organized, stay focused, and remember to smile.
Today's Topic: A busy Sunday afternoon's visit to SuperTarget
I have often said, "If you can't buy it at SuperTarget, you don't need it." My husband would argue Menard's should be added, but I rarely shop there myself. That's his territory. This is not to say that I ONLY shop at Target, I love me some good local businesses, but if you think about it, REALLY think about it, all the things you REALLY need, can be found at good ol' ST. My ST of choice is the one off Cedar in Richfield, because it is the closest to my house and is on the way home from work. Easy peasy. I like to shop once a week, usually on a Sunday, for my weekly needs, including groceries. I will admit I have been known to make several other stops during the week for random necessities and/or treats, usually on the way home from the aforementioned work. However, going to ST on a Sunday afternoon is not always simple. I have established ten easy-to-follow rules for surviving this daunting task. In no particular order:
1. Make a list. Make a list. Make a list. Make a list. I plan my dinner menu for the week on Sunday, writing down the ingredients I need to go with each as I plan. This cuts down on last-minute trips to the store and helps me stay organized all week. Make your ingredient list first, then go through your fridge and pantry crossing off things you already have (skip this step if you have a good memory; I remember I have flour, but do I still have kalamata olives in that jar? Best to check, lest you end up with 4 jars of peanut butter in your pantry like me.) After you've got your ingredients down, consider your other needs: ask your husband if he needs anything (this week: wasp killer and velcro straps), check the bathroom (TP, deodorant, toothpaste, etc.), check your fridge and pantry again for staples. Put everything on the list. Never assume you'll remember.
1.A. While at the store, do not deviate from the list!!! This is very important for your time, your pocketbook, and your waistline. Cross things off as you shop. I like to mark each thing on my list before I get to the store with a D, F, C, M, P, or O (dairy, frozen, cupboard, meat, produce, other) and then make sure I have everything from that section before leaving it. Nothing like forgetting milk from back-of-the-store dairy when you're already in front-of-the-store produce.
1.B. There are exceptions to the no deviating from the list rule. They are
-cool clearance items, applicable in any department (no, I did not neeeeed that bamboo cookie jar, but at that price, I'll find a need! For the record, it is the new catch-all on my microwave.)
-items that store well and are on [good] sale (this week: steak and chicken; used so often, they can chill in the freezer until recipes require their deliciousness)
-fresh fruits and veggies, especially when they're on sale unexpectedly (did I plan to buy watermelon? no, but it was only $1.99!); you can always use more of these, just make sure you remember to eat them. DON'T let them go bad, what a waste!
-things you obviously need, but simply forgot to put on your list (this week: eggs and bread; duh)
2. You are not in a hurry. Even if you really ARE in a hurry, your attitude must reflect that you are NOT. ST has a propensity to rearrange quite frequently. This can be annoying only if you allow yourself to be annoyed. So, you have to walk all the way across the store and back for an item that you believed was just by the pharmacy. It's okay. It's not that far, and it's good for your thighs.
2.A. To aid your not-in-a-hurry attitude, park far away, and near a cart corral if possible. You'll thank me later.
3. Starbucks helps. Whoever said, "Hey, you know what we should do? Put Starbucks INSIDE SuperTarget!" is my personal hero. I like to start my visit with beverage large enough to last my entire shopping trip (this week: venti cold press with skim milk and sweetener). This leisurely practice of ordering, customizing, and then enjoying while you wander the aisles also helps wonderfully with rule #2. Sip, walk, sip, walk, sigh. Ahhhhhh, SuperTarget.
4. Every person's needs are more important than your own. This piggybacks on #2 also. Cart-crossing? Let the other person go first. Someone cut in the deli line? No scene necessary; spend the extra time admiring the beautiful cakes in the bakery. You are the most polite person in the store. It always takes less energy to be calm than to be angry. Have a few more sips of your Starbucks beverage and relax.
5. Every child is adorable. The crazy kid playing leap frog in the very busy aisle? TOO cute! The crying babies? Poor things, they just want to go home. Double-wide stroller blocking the whole aisle while dad talks on his cell? Offer the twins some frappuchino. Kids are EVERYWHERE in ST. You must embrace their presence, for I'm sure they would rather be out playing kickball anyway. Feel sorry for them. Love them. SMILE AT THEM! It's fun to see which ones smile back.
6. After you've gotten everything from your "O" list (other: shampoo, underwear, velcro straps, what have you), head to grocery. Start at the back in dairy and frozen. This will keep you on track. There are now perishable and frozen goods in your cart. You may not saunter back to see if flip-flops are on clearance yet. You should have thought of that before. Time's a tickin'. Be mindful; you are still NOT in a hurry, but now you have a mission.
7. Always, always end in produce. No one likes a squished nectarine or kiwi (on my list this week for the salsa to go with grilled tuna steaks....jealous?)
8. If all check-out lines are long, pick the one with the magazines. Then you have something to read while you wait. Bonus leisure time! You'll be bummed when it's finally your turn.
9. The check-out person is your new best friend. Don't be afraid to ask for things. (eg: May I have your scanning gun so I don't have to lift the dog food off the cart?) Don't be afraid to talk to them. It's boring to just stand there and watch them scan and bag, scan and bag. Ask them about their work. Make general niceties. They're much more likely to do you favors if you're nice to them (this, of course, is true in all situations at all times). Favors? From check-out girl/guy? Oh, yes. Possibilities include: believing you instead of running a price check; double-bagging (though you should really bring your own bags; I have 4 and shop with them only every other week, because in Mpls, we have to sort our recycling in paper bags...grrrrrrr.), taking your garbage (empty Starbucks cup, people), and many other surprising needs. If I see a manager walking by or pass one on my way out, I am happy to tell them how great an employee so-and-so is. I don't wait around for one (frozen food and all), but if you pass one and he/she is not busy, it will make his/her day and the employee's day to hear it.
10. As you walk out, be proud of yourself. You just enjoyed a stress-free trip to SuperTarget. And because you are parked so far back, you are now near the exit and nowhere near the crazy, hurried people who are waiting for parking spots in the front, thus blocking traffic. You can glide out of your spot easily and hit the road.
Remember, it's much less stressful to spend an hour and a half following my simple rules at a relaxed pace than to spend 30 minutes freaking out about every little thing. Be organized, stay focused, and remember to smile.
Monday, July 27, 2009
Disappointed and then all better
On this, the day after my birthday, I went to a matinee of Disney's Earth. I went thinking it would show me the many wonders of this planet, including cute animals, beautiful scenery, and things I'd never seen or maybe even heard of before. I was right. But it was also very sad and depressing. I counted no fewer than 15 deaths in this movie, and 5 of them were rather violent. That's about as many as in The Departed! Two parents took their small children out of the theater. I was not uplifted (though the shots were impressive), I was pissed. I wanted a good movie to bring my spirits at least to regular height today, and my spirit was crushed back down instead. Stupid Disney. The best part was during the credits when they were showing how they managed to get some of those aforementioned amazing shots. Pretty cool.
BUT, when I got home, there were FLOWERS waiting on my porch! My favorite 3 1/2 month old friend sent me birthday chrysanthemums (he's very smart). Purple ones! My favorite! He may or may not have had help from his mother in dialing the florist. Hard to say. Either way, it made me so happy I cried. I love my friends :-).
Happy Day After My Birthday.
BUT, when I got home, there were FLOWERS waiting on my porch! My favorite 3 1/2 month old friend sent me birthday chrysanthemums (he's very smart). Purple ones! My favorite! He may or may not have had help from his mother in dialing the florist. Hard to say. Either way, it made me so happy I cried. I love my friends :-).
Happy Day After My Birthday.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Neglect
2009 has really been a weak blogging year. Only 15 posts in more than half the year. Have I become less motivated or less interesting? Hard to say.
As always, the summer is sweeping past incredibly quickly. Today marks two months until back to school. This is the longest summer break I've ever had (thank you Labor Day), but still. I love all the things I've been able to do in the past month, but it's somewhat disconcerting when I find myself wasting a day doing nearly nothing. Like today. I took my niece to the airport early this morning, and fully intended to just stay up. And I did. For about an hour. Then I fell back asleep and stayed asleep until 11:30. Now I'm blogging and watching tv in my underwear. And I LOVE it!!! The part of me that knows I have things I could/should be doing, including working out, doing dishes, sewing my bench seats, really thinks I'm being lazy and ridiculous. But the part of me that wants to enjoy my free time however I darn well want is pleased as punch :-).
As always, the summer is sweeping past incredibly quickly. Today marks two months until back to school. This is the longest summer break I've ever had (thank you Labor Day), but still. I love all the things I've been able to do in the past month, but it's somewhat disconcerting when I find myself wasting a day doing nearly nothing. Like today. I took my niece to the airport early this morning, and fully intended to just stay up. And I did. For about an hour. Then I fell back asleep and stayed asleep until 11:30. Now I'm blogging and watching tv in my underwear. And I LOVE it!!! The part of me that knows I have things I could/should be doing, including working out, doing dishes, sewing my bench seats, really thinks I'm being lazy and ridiculous. But the part of me that wants to enjoy my free time however I darn well want is pleased as punch :-).
Thursday, June 4, 2009
Rollercoaster (oooh, oooh, oooh)
Yesterday was a terrible day. We're talking cry silently and complain loudly. We're talking actually feeling betrayed. Losing respect for people bad. BAD DAY. I wanted to leave. To walk out of this place and never come back. I took myself on a date last night to make me feel better. Dinner and a movie. If you haven't seen "UP", go see it now. Go ahead. I'll wait.
(elevator music)
Awesome good, right? Anyway, yesterday=terrible. Today, however, is why this job is manic depressive. Crying out of anger, sadness, and frustration one day, crying out of happiness and awe the next. I will not share the terrible story, as this blog is my "blooming memory" and I frankly would like to forget yesterday. But, because I know I will need to remember this good day during future bad days, I will share. Some may even call it bragging. But I want to chronicle it oh so badly.
I have many students I adore. Many who I abhor. Oh, look, the rhyming just comes naturally sometimes :-). But sometimes students who are so special you just don't know what to do with yourself come along:
1. Student A immediately grabbed my attention at the beginning of the semester with his obscenities and readiness to share his story. He transferred to my school from New Jersey. His parents sent him to live here in this town with his grandparents. He had been involved in drugs and was starting a new life. (Please ignore the complete craziness of the next sentence.) I actually felt like I was supposed to meet this kid. Like, called by God, kind of supposed to. He was at the same church as me on Ash Wednesday. 35 miles away from his grandparents, a church I've never attended before. He was there. He stood out even more to me then, as I was completely enamored with our chance meeting (which neither of us ever mentioned in school or again, for that matter). I realized how smart he was, but how he holds back. Anyway, I could go on and on with stories about him from the semester, but I won't. Here is the note he gave me today on his last day of class:
This was by far my favorite class and probably the reason I stopped hating people (I came to MN directly from a correctional facility). The students in this class were the first people I talked to and befriended. A good amount of this is because of your activities, which really helped “break the ice.” Mrs. H., you were one of my favorite teachers and I’m really happy to have met you and taken this. It accounts for a good portion of my new life. Have a good summer and good luck with everything.
Doesn't that just melt your heart? I pray for his success here in MN, as I hope he realizes his awesome potential.
2. Student B is someone I've probably written about before. I have two amazing speech captains this year. They've been with me for all four years of my coaching here, and they are fabulous, both of them. I knew they felt the same way about me, but the thank-you card one of them gave me today was really beyond my thinking. (She's super smart and a writer, by the way, so this really is what she wrote word-for-word, as unbelievable as it may seem.)
I just wanted to let you know how much I love you. As my coach, mentor, and friend, you were always there to support me and hear me out. All of the confidence and independence I can show the world today I owe to you. I hope that you know how thankful I am for your dedication and passion. My love of speaking manifested from your love of your students and your fiery, joyful character. Every quirky and epic moment these past four years is dear to me and because of your energy and compassion. I will never forget what you’ve done for me, no matter how far away I go. You’ve made me who I am, and for that I am eternally grateful. THANK YOU! Love, [student]
It just doesn't get better than that. Next time I say anything negative about my job, remind me of these (and the others) whose lives I actually did influence.
(elevator music)
Awesome good, right? Anyway, yesterday=terrible. Today, however, is why this job is manic depressive. Crying out of anger, sadness, and frustration one day, crying out of happiness and awe the next. I will not share the terrible story, as this blog is my "blooming memory" and I frankly would like to forget yesterday. But, because I know I will need to remember this good day during future bad days, I will share. Some may even call it bragging. But I want to chronicle it oh so badly.
I have many students I adore. Many who I abhor. Oh, look, the rhyming just comes naturally sometimes :-). But sometimes students who are so special you just don't know what to do with yourself come along:
1. Student A immediately grabbed my attention at the beginning of the semester with his obscenities and readiness to share his story. He transferred to my school from New Jersey. His parents sent him to live here in this town with his grandparents. He had been involved in drugs and was starting a new life. (Please ignore the complete craziness of the next sentence.) I actually felt like I was supposed to meet this kid. Like, called by God, kind of supposed to. He was at the same church as me on Ash Wednesday. 35 miles away from his grandparents, a church I've never attended before. He was there. He stood out even more to me then, as I was completely enamored with our chance meeting (which neither of us ever mentioned in school or again, for that matter). I realized how smart he was, but how he holds back. Anyway, I could go on and on with stories about him from the semester, but I won't. Here is the note he gave me today on his last day of class:
This was by far my favorite class and probably the reason I stopped hating people (I came to MN directly from a correctional facility). The students in this class were the first people I talked to and befriended. A good amount of this is because of your activities, which really helped “break the ice.” Mrs. H., you were one of my favorite teachers and I’m really happy to have met you and taken this. It accounts for a good portion of my new life. Have a good summer and good luck with everything.
Doesn't that just melt your heart? I pray for his success here in MN, as I hope he realizes his awesome potential.
2. Student B is someone I've probably written about before. I have two amazing speech captains this year. They've been with me for all four years of my coaching here, and they are fabulous, both of them. I knew they felt the same way about me, but the thank-you card one of them gave me today was really beyond my thinking. (She's super smart and a writer, by the way, so this really is what she wrote word-for-word, as unbelievable as it may seem.)
I just wanted to let you know how much I love you. As my coach, mentor, and friend, you were always there to support me and hear me out. All of the confidence and independence I can show the world today I owe to you. I hope that you know how thankful I am for your dedication and passion. My love of speaking manifested from your love of your students and your fiery, joyful character. Every quirky and epic moment these past four years is dear to me and because of your energy and compassion. I will never forget what you’ve done for me, no matter how far away I go. You’ve made me who I am, and for that I am eternally grateful. THANK YOU! Love, [student]
It just doesn't get better than that. Next time I say anything negative about my job, remind me of these (and the others) whose lives I actually did influence.
Tuesday, June 2, 2009
I just cried at my desk
Not because of students (good or bad, they actually make me cry at least once a week), but because of an article in our school newspaper that led me to this website.
It is so nice to know people care and help. I want to be one of them. I am going to set up a day this summer to make sammies. If you want to help, let me know.
It is so nice to know people care and help. I want to be one of them. I am going to set up a day this summer to make sammies. If you want to help, let me know.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
An open letter
Dear Parents of my Students Absent for their Finals,
I understand that your student receiving a passing grade is important to you. I understand that you will do anything for your child. I also understand that it is of little consequence to you personally if your child does not attend school.
What I do NOT understand, dear parents, is how you can send your child into the world with such a strong message of irresponsibility and unaccountability. These assignments, for which they have had upwards of two weeks to prepare, are their FINAL for the class. Perhaps your child is an exceptional liar. Good for him/her. With the mixed messages you are sending him/her, it will be important for him/her to use that lying skill in his/her future. Maybe there is an epidemic in this community of which I am unaware. Funny, none of my students NOT assigned to go today came down with the illness. Germs work in mysterious ways.
Please, do not worry about the other students and me. We will change our schedules and agendas to suit your child's whims. We here in public education are here to serve you in every way. Maybe you'd like your child to receive a passing grade just for breathing. I'm sure we can find an independent study program to suit his/her needs.
All my best as we near the graduation of your little darlings,
Mrs. Frustrated and Annoyed
EDIT: For those of you who feel I may be too cynical: I was just on the third floor (two away from my own domain), and SAW ONE OF THE STUDENTS who was, "up all night puking, sweating, with a high fever." AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!
I understand that your student receiving a passing grade is important to you. I understand that you will do anything for your child. I also understand that it is of little consequence to you personally if your child does not attend school.
What I do NOT understand, dear parents, is how you can send your child into the world with such a strong message of irresponsibility and unaccountability. These assignments, for which they have had upwards of two weeks to prepare, are their FINAL for the class. Perhaps your child is an exceptional liar. Good for him/her. With the mixed messages you are sending him/her, it will be important for him/her to use that lying skill in his/her future. Maybe there is an epidemic in this community of which I am unaware. Funny, none of my students NOT assigned to go today came down with the illness. Germs work in mysterious ways.
Please, do not worry about the other students and me. We will change our schedules and agendas to suit your child's whims. We here in public education are here to serve you in every way. Maybe you'd like your child to receive a passing grade just for breathing. I'm sure we can find an independent study program to suit his/her needs.
All my best as we near the graduation of your little darlings,
Mrs. Frustrated and Annoyed
EDIT: For those of you who feel I may be too cynical: I was just on the third floor (two away from my own domain), and SAW ONE OF THE STUDENTS who was, "up all night puking, sweating, with a high fever." AAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, May 19, 2009
Note to self
Self, you can NOT run around Lake Nokomis when it is 90 degrees.
P.S. You should listen to your husband who said, "Be careful. Don't push yourself."
P.S. You should listen to your husband who said, "Be careful. Don't push yourself."
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Watch my smoke
runner (n.): one that runs; pronunciation: \ˈrə-nər\
Today, on this gorgeous day, I continued my awesomeness at Lake Nokomis. It is approximately 2.7 miles. It took me nine Offspring songs (always a kick-ass motivator), which when I added them up on iTunes at home, totaled 32 minutes. Again, I did this without walking or stopping. WHO AM I!?!?!?
Heather, my cheerleader, is going to take me to her special runners' store so we can buy me some better shoes, then we're going to start hitting 5Ks this summer. Why have I not been doing this for the last 10 years?
(Now I'm going to plop my butt on the couch for some reality TV; Survivor finale tonight! Life is all about balance...)
Today, on this gorgeous day, I continued my awesomeness at Lake Nokomis. It is approximately 2.7 miles. It took me nine Offspring songs (always a kick-ass motivator), which when I added them up on iTunes at home, totaled 32 minutes. Again, I did this without walking or stopping. WHO AM I!?!?!?
Heather, my cheerleader, is going to take me to her special runners' store so we can buy me some better shoes, then we're going to start hitting 5Ks this summer. Why have I not been doing this for the last 10 years?
(Now I'm going to plop my butt on the couch for some reality TV; Survivor finale tonight! Life is all about balance...)
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Out of pain, good does come
Okay, so it wasn't really PAIN, but it was a very annoying and stressful situation. The day started cold and windy (which I was forced to experience this morning; more on that another time), but by the time I got home at 4:30, the sun was shining and the temperature had risen to almost 70. I wanted to go for a walk/jog, and really didn't want to bring the dogs. They've been royal pains in the ass on walks lately, and I just wanted peace. But, I figured I would be the worst dog-owner in the entire world if I went out on this beautiful day without them. I called Pat to see if I should wait for him to join us before venturing out, but he was stuck at work. I told him we would walk toward him. Poochy One and Poochy Two started out fairly decently. Then I forgot that Jersey's driving motion toward insanity is bicyclists. We kept walking toward Pat by going over the Marshall Bridge. Bikes galore! Psychotic barking and lunging was scaring every person going by. He is going insane. Truly. (An entirely different issue, of course. I'm open to dog-training suggestions for my dog of 3 years...) My embarrassment, rage, frustration built. I had to call Pat. I got off the bridge, off the beaten path, and found some grass on which to plop my annoyed ass. A school yard. A few minutes passed before my knight in shining Jeep showed up. I asked him just to take the dogs. I needed to walk home on my own. I needed to get rid of the steam.
As I turned away, I started to run. Feel the burn. Release the steam. Then I decided not to stop. Now, this is normal for a LOT of people. I get that. But I have been walk/running since I decided running was even something I could do. Run a couple of blocks. Walk a few to recover. Running more than two was awesome. Once I ran 8! I was very proud. But today, coming from my angry resolve, I ran all the way home. I told myself I wouldn't stop, and I didn't. I pushed. Mind over body is what people usually say. Body over mind is what I employed. Breathe. Put one foot in front of the other. And I ran all the way home.
Perhaps, dear reader, you still do not understand the gravity of my feat. Back in elementary school and high school when they made us run the mile, I was one of the last girls on the track. When I was thin and young, I couldn't run a mile. I was one of those people who said, "I can't run." Not "I don't run," but I CAN'T. Well, guess what? Yes I can! When I got home, I went on to the very handy website, www.mapmyrun.com, and found out exactly how far I ran. Guess how far? Come on, guess! Okay, I'll tell you: 1.8 miles!!! That's almost 2! Without stopping! Not even for traffic (the universe was on my side)!
So, in case you can't tell, I'm Superwoman! (Methinks this is what they call "runner's high.")
As I turned away, I started to run. Feel the burn. Release the steam. Then I decided not to stop. Now, this is normal for a LOT of people. I get that. But I have been walk/running since I decided running was even something I could do. Run a couple of blocks. Walk a few to recover. Running more than two was awesome. Once I ran 8! I was very proud. But today, coming from my angry resolve, I ran all the way home. I told myself I wouldn't stop, and I didn't. I pushed. Mind over body is what people usually say. Body over mind is what I employed. Breathe. Put one foot in front of the other. And I ran all the way home.
Perhaps, dear reader, you still do not understand the gravity of my feat. Back in elementary school and high school when they made us run the mile, I was one of the last girls on the track. When I was thin and young, I couldn't run a mile. I was one of those people who said, "I can't run." Not "I don't run," but I CAN'T. Well, guess what? Yes I can! When I got home, I went on to the very handy website, www.mapmyrun.com, and found out exactly how far I ran. Guess how far? Come on, guess! Okay, I'll tell you: 1.8 miles!!! That's almost 2! Without stopping! Not even for traffic (the universe was on my side)!
So, in case you can't tell, I'm Superwoman! (Methinks this is what they call "runner's high.")
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