So I'm sitting here stuffed. I am uncomfortably full after eating a very satisfying dinner. The strange thing is that just three weeks ago I doubt if I would have been very full after eating my evening meal this evening. Here's what was on the menu: black bean and avacado salad with a green smoothie (cucumber, cantaloupe, celery, pear, apple, tangerine, mango, cilantro, spinach) topped with coconut whipped cream. It was SO. GOOD. And I am so full because I had seconds.
This juicing thing started out as an experiment, but I think it is becoming something more than that. In two and a half weeks I have lost nine pounds, dropped a pants size, cleared my acne up, eliminated my dependency on caffeine, elimintated my daily four pm post-work headache, and doubled my energy. My urticaria is starting to disappear- I'm starting to notice fewer flare-ups, and I've notcied a dramatic decrease in the amount of time it takes me to recover. And the biggest surprise of all is that I don't miss the food. This week I haven't been a saint. I've snacked a little every day on the delicious Christmas food in the staff lounge, but afterward I get groggy and sluggish. Today I walked past a tray of cookies and passed up a candy bar offers to me in a meeting. Didn't phase me a bit. I keep trying little
things hoping to get a nice buzz from them like I used to, but I just don't get a food high from junk food anymore. I don't even want Diet Coke. Coconut whipped cream, though... Fuhgeddaboudit.. Take a can of organic coconut milk, stick it in the fridge for a few hours. When you open it up, the solids have all floated to the top and the liquid will be at the bottom. Spoon out the solids into a bowl. Whip like whipped cream. Sweeten with whatever floats your boat... I use stevia. Save the liquid for smoothies or whatevs. You may never go back to dairy cream or whipped topping ever again. Coconut is so good for you, lower in fat, and tastes like angels' wings. I limit myself to a couple of spoonfuls a day, and I daydream about them all day long.
I honestly think it will be harder to stop juicing than it was to start, and it's got me thinking about other things, too. What would happen if I could incorporate some sort of exercise program into this, too?
Anyway, philosophical discussion aside, I feel like this is hands-down the best thing I've done for myself in years, and I won't be stopping any time soon. That coconut whipped cream is just too delicious.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Monday, December 12, 2011
Weekend Update 2
This week was a tough week because I had 4 Christmas parties to attend. FOUR. CHRISTMAS PARTIES. Do you have any idea how much good food people reserve and make only at Christmastime? TONS. The answer is TONS. So. Much. Butter.
I did pretty well at the beginning of the week. At Hubby's bank branch Christmas party (which was at a buffet, mind you) I only had a bowl of vegetable soup, a big salad, and about 2 oz. of roasted turkey. On Tuesday my Bluegrass Band had a gig at some ward Christmas party. I had a plate of raw fruits and veggies and 2 tiny baguette slices with cream cheese and cucumber, about 2 inches in diameter each. I passed up the trays of goodies at work and stuck with garbanzo bean salad I brought from home, and a pomegranate that I bought from the grocery store down the road. Best pomegranate of my life, btw.
By the time Friday's Bank Manager party rolled around, however, my will-power was at an all-time low. I had mashed potatoes, salad, roasted carrots, roast beef, a chocolate covered strawberry, a couple of peanut butter cups, and I snuck a few bites of Luis's cheesecake and cupcake (it was from Sweet Tooth Fairy- I couldn't resist!)
I tried to repent of my ways on Saturday, but while I was out running errands with the boy I lost track of time and we were both starving, so we had to eat at a restaurant at lunch. I had a fruit bowl and a bowl of cheddar broccoli soup and a couple slices of garlic bread that came with it. I have a weakness for anything covered with melted butter. I couldn't pass it up. It was, incidentally, worth it. Who knew Denny's, of all places, makes such good soup?
Yesterday Luis's entire family came over for dinner for a triple birthday party. I made pozole (which is a type of Mexican pork stew) and quesadillas. I did pretty well with portion control, but I still at a little of everything, including the birthday cake at the end.
By the end of the day I felt terrible. I had a headache, a stomach ache, my nerves were shot, and I had no energy. It's amazing how accustomed I had become in just 2 weeks to eating clean and feeling super energetic all the time.
Today I am avowed to behave myself and eat clean, although we have three days of Christmas parties at work, and I'm feeling weak.
In the end, though, I still lost a pound, and stayed off caffeine all week. Pretty successful, if you ask me. I'd like to take the opportunity to mention that my primary goal in doing this is not weight loss (although that's a major bonus), but rather wellness. It's just a lot easier to measure how much weight you lose than it is to measure internal healing. As a side note, however, I did get a visit from an old friend this week whom I haven't seen in 6 months. She rarely visits without hormonal supplementation, and I was shocked and happily surprised. It only lasted for about 2 days, but I'll take whatever I can get when it comes to lady stuff. I think that's a much better indication, also, of the major healing that I can feel taking place daily.
All in all, 2 and a half weeks in, my weight is down, my skin is cleared up, and I feel fantastic. I honestly think it will be harder to stop juicing than it was to start.
As far as Luis goes, he had such low energy yesterday that he couldn't stay awake. He's been trying to eat healthy at all of these parties, too, but he's having a harder time of it than I am, and he refuses to skip dessert. He was completely passed out last night at 10:30, and dragging from about 8:00 on. Even with all the cheating, however, he lost another 3 pounds, has clearer skin, and better mood/energy than before.
I did pretty well at the beginning of the week. At Hubby's bank branch Christmas party (which was at a buffet, mind you) I only had a bowl of vegetable soup, a big salad, and about 2 oz. of roasted turkey. On Tuesday my Bluegrass Band had a gig at some ward Christmas party. I had a plate of raw fruits and veggies and 2 tiny baguette slices with cream cheese and cucumber, about 2 inches in diameter each. I passed up the trays of goodies at work and stuck with garbanzo bean salad I brought from home, and a pomegranate that I bought from the grocery store down the road. Best pomegranate of my life, btw.
By the time Friday's Bank Manager party rolled around, however, my will-power was at an all-time low. I had mashed potatoes, salad, roasted carrots, roast beef, a chocolate covered strawberry, a couple of peanut butter cups, and I snuck a few bites of Luis's cheesecake and cupcake (it was from Sweet Tooth Fairy- I couldn't resist!)
I tried to repent of my ways on Saturday, but while I was out running errands with the boy I lost track of time and we were both starving, so we had to eat at a restaurant at lunch. I had a fruit bowl and a bowl of cheddar broccoli soup and a couple slices of garlic bread that came with it. I have a weakness for anything covered with melted butter. I couldn't pass it up. It was, incidentally, worth it. Who knew Denny's, of all places, makes such good soup?
Yesterday Luis's entire family came over for dinner for a triple birthday party. I made pozole (which is a type of Mexican pork stew) and quesadillas. I did pretty well with portion control, but I still at a little of everything, including the birthday cake at the end.
By the end of the day I felt terrible. I had a headache, a stomach ache, my nerves were shot, and I had no energy. It's amazing how accustomed I had become in just 2 weeks to eating clean and feeling super energetic all the time.
Today I am avowed to behave myself and eat clean, although we have three days of Christmas parties at work, and I'm feeling weak.
In the end, though, I still lost a pound, and stayed off caffeine all week. Pretty successful, if you ask me. I'd like to take the opportunity to mention that my primary goal in doing this is not weight loss (although that's a major bonus), but rather wellness. It's just a lot easier to measure how much weight you lose than it is to measure internal healing. As a side note, however, I did get a visit from an old friend this week whom I haven't seen in 6 months. She rarely visits without hormonal supplementation, and I was shocked and happily surprised. It only lasted for about 2 days, but I'll take whatever I can get when it comes to lady stuff. I think that's a much better indication, also, of the major healing that I can feel taking place daily.
All in all, 2 and a half weeks in, my weight is down, my skin is cleared up, and I feel fantastic. I honestly think it will be harder to stop juicing than it was to start.
As far as Luis goes, he had such low energy yesterday that he couldn't stay awake. He's been trying to eat healthy at all of these parties, too, but he's having a harder time of it than I am, and he refuses to skip dessert. He was completely passed out last night at 10:30, and dragging from about 8:00 on. Even with all the cheating, however, he lost another 3 pounds, has clearer skin, and better mood/energy than before.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
What I'm Doing
So for those, if any, that are curious as to how this juice fast thing works for me, here's the low-down.
In the morning I wake up early and juice. Usually I make about a quart of juice (usually fruit mixed with carrots, celery, and cucumber), which I drink half of, saving the other half for Luis's breakfast.
During the day at school access to a juicer/juice is pretty impossible, so I usually eat maybe 1 piece of fresh fruit and some beans or nuts. A "pure" juice fast does not allow beans or nuts, but I am a working gal and I need the fiber and protein to get me through the day. Occasionally if the beans are too much for me plain, I'll dash a little vinegar on them for some extra flavor, but kidney beans and garbanzo beans are usually okay on their own.
When I get home I have a little snack (usually raw, unsalted nuts- peanuts are my fave) and then I juice again around 4:30 or 5:00. I make about a quart of juice again. This juice is more vegetable heavy. Spinach is a fave, sweet potato, tomatoes, carrots, bell peppers, broccoli- you name it, I've juiced it.
Then before bed I usually have another small snack- usually a piece of fruit or some nuts. If I'm feeling hungry- beans.
Luis and I were talking last night and he says he feels more energy than he has in years. He says getting out of his chair and walking around the bank branch doesn't require as much effort as it did before, and he is so optimistic about the results he thinks we should incorporate juicing into our lifestyle on a permanent basis after the 30 days (obviously on a lesser scale, but still regularly).
In the morning I wake up early and juice. Usually I make about a quart of juice (usually fruit mixed with carrots, celery, and cucumber), which I drink half of, saving the other half for Luis's breakfast.
During the day at school access to a juicer/juice is pretty impossible, so I usually eat maybe 1 piece of fresh fruit and some beans or nuts. A "pure" juice fast does not allow beans or nuts, but I am a working gal and I need the fiber and protein to get me through the day. Occasionally if the beans are too much for me plain, I'll dash a little vinegar on them for some extra flavor, but kidney beans and garbanzo beans are usually okay on their own.
When I get home I have a little snack (usually raw, unsalted nuts- peanuts are my fave) and then I juice again around 4:30 or 5:00. I make about a quart of juice again. This juice is more vegetable heavy. Spinach is a fave, sweet potato, tomatoes, carrots, bell peppers, broccoli- you name it, I've juiced it.
Then before bed I usually have another small snack- usually a piece of fruit or some nuts. If I'm feeling hungry- beans.
Luis and I were talking last night and he says he feels more energy than he has in years. He says getting out of his chair and walking around the bank branch doesn't require as much effort as it did before, and he is so optimistic about the results he thinks we should incorporate juicing into our lifestyle on a permanent basis after the 30 days (obviously on a lesser scale, but still regularly).
Monday, December 5, 2011
Weekend Update
We both weighed in yesterday. Luis is down a total of 8 pounds in 7 days and I'm down 7 pounds in 10 days. He is sleeping a lot better and my urticaria flare-ups are starting to become less frequent and lasting for less time. It's still really too early to call it a success, but let's just say the results so far have been promising.
We're up against some challenges this week- Luis's bank branch is having their Christmas Party tonight at Chuck-O-Rama (weird name, delicious buffet), and the managers/spouses Christmas Party is on Friday. I'm planning on just having a big salad, which will be cheating a little because I plan on sticking some animal protein in there as well as some salad dressing; it's not cheating enough for me to feel like I"m going to throw myself totally off-track. At the manager's party, I'll probably have a little meat and a big salad. I'm hoping that I can go off a little without totally dropping the ball.
I am surprised, really, at how easy it has been to stick with the juice fast (although I did cheat once with a gingersnap and some chocolate covered cranberries) and at how much better I feel in just a short period of time. Luis is so encouraged that he is planning on sticking with it for the full 30 days, instead of just the 10 he was originally going for.
We're up against some challenges this week- Luis's bank branch is having their Christmas Party tonight at Chuck-O-Rama (weird name, delicious buffet), and the managers/spouses Christmas Party is on Friday. I'm planning on just having a big salad, which will be cheating a little because I plan on sticking some animal protein in there as well as some salad dressing; it's not cheating enough for me to feel like I"m going to throw myself totally off-track. At the manager's party, I'll probably have a little meat and a big salad. I'm hoping that I can go off a little without totally dropping the ball.
I am surprised, really, at how easy it has been to stick with the juice fast (although I did cheat once with a gingersnap and some chocolate covered cranberries) and at how much better I feel in just a short period of time. Luis is so encouraged that he is planning on sticking with it for the full 30 days, instead of just the 10 he was originally going for.
Friday, December 2, 2011
Juice Fast
So last week I blogged about my Urticaria. After talking things over with Luis, doing some planning, and enjoying our last meal (Thanksgiving Feast) we started a juice fast last Friday. It was actually Luis's idea and although losing some weight would be nice, our main goals are to hopefully clear up some long-standing health problems we both have: Urticaria for me, sleep apnea/snoring for him. We could both go to the doctor and ask for some prescription and start loading ourselves down with meds to address these problems, but we both have very anti-med opinions and we try to avoid medication unless it is for life-saving purposes. We feel like pharmaceuticals are a slippery slope that we don't want to step on to at this point in our lives.
I already had a juicer from my attempt at eating clean two years ago. I did really well and juiced a ton for like a month, but then got distracted with work stress and reverted to my old habits, and put the juicer in storage.
It was scary at first; I didn't want to fail and I didn't want to be hungry all the time. Doing this with a partner, however, has made a lot of difference, and the fact that my spouse is on board helps a ton because I don't have to worry about the temptation of cooking for him at night.
The first two days were awful. I wasn't hungry but let's just say that fruits and veggies aren't my favorite and I had some serious food DT's. The second day was the worst. I had a non-stop migraine and I couldn't muster up the will to live, let alone the energy to get out of bed. I almost caved a dozen times, but thankfully it was a weekend and I had some leisure to just stay in bed most of the day. By the third day the migraines had died down and I had no problem getting up in the morning. By the fourth day the pep was back in my step and I decided to do the impossible: stop drinking caffeine.
Diet Coke has been my dark addiction for 12 years now. I used it to get through 4 am shifts cleaning the Eyering Science Center, late night study groups, and all-day classes. It got me through my student teaching when I had to wake up at 5 every morning, work until 4, drive home in rush-hour traffic, plan my lessons, and spend quality time with my new husband. It got me through the depressing first years of our marriage when I found out I was infertile and couldn't even drag myself out of bed some days. It got me through the intense physical labor of my job at the Vocational Center. It's what pulls me through the days teaching. It has become my secret weapon in an arsenal of tricks I use to juggle work, callings, full-time parenting on the weekends, housework, and my love life. And I've decided I'm giving it up.
I figure, what's the point of doing this juice fast if I'm still going to flood my body with toxic chemicals all day long every day? How can I cleanse my system and heal some of my health problems if I'm nursing a Coke can for most of my waking hours?
Well, it's been about a week now and to my surprise, I'm doing okay. I haven't cheated on my juice fast, and I've been completely caffeine free since Tuesday, with one exception yesterday. I am doing pretty well energy-wise, all things considered. I haven't noticed an improvement with the urticaria so far, but I've lost 5 pounds. I've learned some things about myself, my eating habits, and I've increased my tolerance for vegetables. Luis refuses to weigh himself until he's done so I don't know if he's lost any weight, but he's stopped snoring for the first time in 10 years and he's brimming with energy that he's never had before.
I'll check back in periodically to let you know how the juice fast is going, but for now my plan is to juice fast until Christmas, take a short break (to enjoy Christmas and to make sure I'm not building up a resistance to a lower calorie diet), and then go for another 3 weeks until my 30th birthday. That would be a very nice birthday present, I think- starting the next decade of my life with better health.
I already had a juicer from my attempt at eating clean two years ago. I did really well and juiced a ton for like a month, but then got distracted with work stress and reverted to my old habits, and put the juicer in storage.
It was scary at first; I didn't want to fail and I didn't want to be hungry all the time. Doing this with a partner, however, has made a lot of difference, and the fact that my spouse is on board helps a ton because I don't have to worry about the temptation of cooking for him at night.
The first two days were awful. I wasn't hungry but let's just say that fruits and veggies aren't my favorite and I had some serious food DT's. The second day was the worst. I had a non-stop migraine and I couldn't muster up the will to live, let alone the energy to get out of bed. I almost caved a dozen times, but thankfully it was a weekend and I had some leisure to just stay in bed most of the day. By the third day the migraines had died down and I had no problem getting up in the morning. By the fourth day the pep was back in my step and I decided to do the impossible: stop drinking caffeine.
Diet Coke has been my dark addiction for 12 years now. I used it to get through 4 am shifts cleaning the Eyering Science Center, late night study groups, and all-day classes. It got me through my student teaching when I had to wake up at 5 every morning, work until 4, drive home in rush-hour traffic, plan my lessons, and spend quality time with my new husband. It got me through the depressing first years of our marriage when I found out I was infertile and couldn't even drag myself out of bed some days. It got me through the intense physical labor of my job at the Vocational Center. It's what pulls me through the days teaching. It has become my secret weapon in an arsenal of tricks I use to juggle work, callings, full-time parenting on the weekends, housework, and my love life. And I've decided I'm giving it up.
I figure, what's the point of doing this juice fast if I'm still going to flood my body with toxic chemicals all day long every day? How can I cleanse my system and heal some of my health problems if I'm nursing a Coke can for most of my waking hours?
Well, it's been about a week now and to my surprise, I'm doing okay. I haven't cheated on my juice fast, and I've been completely caffeine free since Tuesday, with one exception yesterday. I am doing pretty well energy-wise, all things considered. I haven't noticed an improvement with the urticaria so far, but I've lost 5 pounds. I've learned some things about myself, my eating habits, and I've increased my tolerance for vegetables. Luis refuses to weigh himself until he's done so I don't know if he's lost any weight, but he's stopped snoring for the first time in 10 years and he's brimming with energy that he's never had before.
I'll check back in periodically to let you know how the juice fast is going, but for now my plan is to juice fast until Christmas, take a short break (to enjoy Christmas and to make sure I'm not building up a resistance to a lower calorie diet), and then go for another 3 weeks until my 30th birthday. That would be a very nice birthday present, I think- starting the next decade of my life with better health.
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Dermographism
In the spring of 2010 I was going through a really stressful time at work and I was coping by jogging 4 times a week, something I'd never done before. I was feeling pretty good, aside from the overwhelming stress at work until I started having strange allergic reactions to the new detergent we were using. At least I thought it was an allergy to detergent. I got super itchy from head to toe every night and broke out in hives. I would have to take three to four Benadryl just to go to sleep.
Obviously I immediately switched off of that brand of detergent, but the itchiness lingered. I thought that perhaps it was the fabric softener, so we found a dye free fragrance free softener... Still no improvement. I washed all my sheets and blankets like 10 times, just in case there was some residue.
A couple of months later, I decided to start eliminating things from my diet that might be causing the reaction- I already am pretty much dairy free and very low gluten, but I started playing around with eliminating artificial sweeteners (I was drinking a lot of Crystal Light). I noticed some improvement and could usually sleep with only one or two pills, but still the itchiness lingers. The doctors I've spoken to seem to have no idea what is going on, and kind of just gloss over it. They told me it was probably just an allergic reaction.
It's been about a yer and a half now, and although there has been some improvement, pretty much any time my skin gets brushed or scratched, it swells up like a bee sting and gets itchy like a mosquito bite. It's not too terrible, but it's really embarrassing when I brush mascara off my eyelid and look like I've been punched in the face five ute later, or when my seatbelt touches my neck and then I have to walk around for an hour looking like I have a hicky.
Last week Luis wanted to watch a documentary that was suggested to us on Netflix. It is called 'Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead,' and it chronicles two men's journey to cure themselves of a disease known as Urticaria Vasculosa via juice fasting. The shocking thing to me was that their symptoms sounded eerily similar to my own weird skin thing, so I did a little search and my bizarre disease has a name- Dermographic Urticaria. Here's a link.
The mystery is finally solved.
Now the question remains, what to do about it?
Obviously I immediately switched off of that brand of detergent, but the itchiness lingered. I thought that perhaps it was the fabric softener, so we found a dye free fragrance free softener... Still no improvement. I washed all my sheets and blankets like 10 times, just in case there was some residue.
A couple of months later, I decided to start eliminating things from my diet that might be causing the reaction- I already am pretty much dairy free and very low gluten, but I started playing around with eliminating artificial sweeteners (I was drinking a lot of Crystal Light). I noticed some improvement and could usually sleep with only one or two pills, but still the itchiness lingers. The doctors I've spoken to seem to have no idea what is going on, and kind of just gloss over it. They told me it was probably just an allergic reaction.
It's been about a yer and a half now, and although there has been some improvement, pretty much any time my skin gets brushed or scratched, it swells up like a bee sting and gets itchy like a mosquito bite. It's not too terrible, but it's really embarrassing when I brush mascara off my eyelid and look like I've been punched in the face five ute later, or when my seatbelt touches my neck and then I have to walk around for an hour looking like I have a hicky.
Last week Luis wanted to watch a documentary that was suggested to us on Netflix. It is called 'Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead,' and it chronicles two men's journey to cure themselves of a disease known as Urticaria Vasculosa via juice fasting. The shocking thing to me was that their symptoms sounded eerily similar to my own weird skin thing, so I did a little search and my bizarre disease has a name- Dermographic Urticaria. Here's a link.
The mystery is finally solved.
Now the question remains, what to do about it?
Friday, November 11, 2011
I think I need medication. Or a nap. Yeah... probably just a nap.
So if you don't know what Shazam is, you should check it out. It's pretty much the greatest app known to man. Basically, when you hear a cool song on the radio or on tv or playing in the background at a store that you don't recognize, you can Shazam it, and the app will tell you the title and artist of the song and tag it for you.
I have been Shazaming things left and right, and today, I reviewed my list of tags. Apparently all the music that catches my attention and warrants the effort of finding my phone, unlocking it, opening my apps folder, selecting the program, and then tagging the song fits the same pattern. Out of 20 songs gathered over a period of four weeks, 18 of them were love songs in a minor key with heavy guitar tracks. EIGHTEEN. One of them was a song by Beck. The other was a techno dance beat.
I wonder what that says about me? That the Beatles left an indelible imprint on me at an early age and that's all I like to listen to now? That I'm depressed? Sleep deprived? Maybe cold weather makes me moody?
Anyway, in honor of my apparent psychosis (yet to be determined), here is the one song on my Shazam list that I'm currently obsessed with. Normally I'm not a fan of remakes of Beatles music. They are pretty much sacred to me, especially George Harrison (whom I am secretly in love with), but this one is just so good.
I have been Shazaming things left and right, and today, I reviewed my list of tags. Apparently all the music that catches my attention and warrants the effort of finding my phone, unlocking it, opening my apps folder, selecting the program, and then tagging the song fits the same pattern. Out of 20 songs gathered over a period of four weeks, 18 of them were love songs in a minor key with heavy guitar tracks. EIGHTEEN. One of them was a song by Beck. The other was a techno dance beat.
I wonder what that says about me? That the Beatles left an indelible imprint on me at an early age and that's all I like to listen to now? That I'm depressed? Sleep deprived? Maybe cold weather makes me moody?
Anyway, in honor of my apparent psychosis (yet to be determined), here is the one song on my Shazam list that I'm currently obsessed with. Normally I'm not a fan of remakes of Beatles music. They are pretty much sacred to me, especially George Harrison (whom I am secretly in love with), but this one is just so good.
Epic
My fourth period class starts precisely at 11:10, Tuesdays through Fridays. Today, after the bell rang, my class began a countdown from 70. When we got to zero, we all made a wish. That means today on 11/11/11 at 11:11:11, my entire fourth period class and I made the most epic wishes of our lives. What did I wish for?
I can't tell, or else it won't come true.
I can't tell, or else it won't come true.
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Phyllo Dough FTW
So on a whim I purchased a box of Phyllo Dough on a recent expedition to the grocery store.
I did this because it sounded like something a foodie would buy (or make) and I think I'm turning into a wannabe foodie. I say wannabe because I really like good food, but I'm also much too lazy to make gourmet food for myself every day, and sometimes I still eat hamburgers. Mmmm.... beefy.
Anyway, back to the story at hand.
About a week ago, I gave my Tia Delia a ride home from a ward party. She rewarded me by giving me a bag full of apples from the tree in her back yard. Since my wannabe foodie instincts told me that organic apples straight from the tree would be a good thing, I readily accepted them and took them home.
Then they sat on my counter for a week while I tried to figure out what to make with them.
There weren't enough to make apple butter. There were too many to make caramel apples. And I hate Apple Pie. Yes. I said it. I despise it. Something about crust plus apples activates my gag reflex. I know. There must be something wrong with me.
I then remembered the phyllo dough in the freezer. Acting upon instinct I quickly assembled the following:
1 stick butter (the good stuff, not margarine)
1/2-2/3 cup brown sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp nutmeg
Dash of salt
Juice of 1 lemon
I threw those ingredients in a skillet with the thinly sliced apples, reserving about 2 Tbsp of the for later. I cooked everything until the apples were tender but not smooshy. Then I spooned the liquid buttery juicy stuff off of the apple mixture and dumped it into a bowl with the remaining 2 Tbsp. of butter, which I had melted. Yes. I'm pretty sure that "liquid buttery juicy stuff" is a technical term.
Then I laid out about 10 sheets of phyllo, lightly brushing every 2-3 sheets with butter. I spread about 1/3 of the apple mixture onto the dough, then rolled it up cinnamon roll style and placed it onto a baking sheet that I had covered with tin foil. Wax paper would work better, but I'm always too lazy to remember to buy it. If I had thought about it, I would have pinched the ends together to keep butter and apple from oozing out, but I was hungry and I'm not a details person.
I repeated this 2 more times with the remaining dough and apple mixture. When I was done, I had three rolls which I garnished with some paper thin apple slices and then brushed the butter/juicy stuff mixture over the whole thing.
I baked them at 350 for about 45-50 minutes.
I sprinkled the top with powdered sugar and served them with a dollop of whipped cream.
SO much better than apple pie. Rather than being stuck with the overpowering dry, flavorless, crust mixed with bland, mushy apples, I had a crispy, delicious, buttery, light as air tart.
The crispiness of the phyllo mixed with the rich flavor of the butter and the sweetness of the apples really make this work.
Remember, whenever you cook with apples, add some acid (unless they're green) and some salt. Otherwise, you end up something that tastes like hot, flavorless applesauce.
Also remember to make at least three rolls, because if you're anything like us the first one will disappear a few minutes after you take it out of the oven.
I did this because it sounded like something a foodie would buy (or make) and I think I'm turning into a wannabe foodie. I say wannabe because I really like good food, but I'm also much too lazy to make gourmet food for myself every day, and sometimes I still eat hamburgers. Mmmm.... beefy.
Anyway, back to the story at hand.
About a week ago, I gave my Tia Delia a ride home from a ward party. She rewarded me by giving me a bag full of apples from the tree in her back yard. Since my wannabe foodie instincts told me that organic apples straight from the tree would be a good thing, I readily accepted them and took them home.
Then they sat on my counter for a week while I tried to figure out what to make with them.
There weren't enough to make apple butter. There were too many to make caramel apples. And I hate Apple Pie. Yes. I said it. I despise it. Something about crust plus apples activates my gag reflex. I know. There must be something wrong with me.
I then remembered the phyllo dough in the freezer. Acting upon instinct I quickly assembled the following:
1 stick butter (the good stuff, not margarine)
1/2-2/3 cup brown sugar
1 tsp salt
2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp cloves
1/4 tsp ginger
1/4 tsp nutmeg
Dash of salt
Juice of 1 lemon
I threw those ingredients in a skillet with the thinly sliced apples, reserving about 2 Tbsp of the for later. I cooked everything until the apples were tender but not smooshy. Then I spooned the liquid buttery juicy stuff off of the apple mixture and dumped it into a bowl with the remaining 2 Tbsp. of butter, which I had melted. Yes. I'm pretty sure that "liquid buttery juicy stuff" is a technical term.
Then I laid out about 10 sheets of phyllo, lightly brushing every 2-3 sheets with butter. I spread about 1/3 of the apple mixture onto the dough, then rolled it up cinnamon roll style and placed it onto a baking sheet that I had covered with tin foil. Wax paper would work better, but I'm always too lazy to remember to buy it. If I had thought about it, I would have pinched the ends together to keep butter and apple from oozing out, but I was hungry and I'm not a details person.
I repeated this 2 more times with the remaining dough and apple mixture. When I was done, I had three rolls which I garnished with some paper thin apple slices and then brushed the butter/juicy stuff mixture over the whole thing.
I baked them at 350 for about 45-50 minutes.
SO much better than apple pie. Rather than being stuck with the overpowering dry, flavorless, crust mixed with bland, mushy apples, I had a crispy, delicious, buttery, light as air tart.
The crispiness of the phyllo mixed with the rich flavor of the butter and the sweetness of the apples really make this work.
Remember, whenever you cook with apples, add some acid (unless they're green) and some salt. Otherwise, you end up something that tastes like hot, flavorless applesauce.
Also remember to make at least three rolls, because if you're anything like us the first one will disappear a few minutes after you take it out of the oven.
Thursday, October 27, 2011
Home
Home.
Aside from Mother, Father, and God, it is possibly the most emotionally charged word in the English language.
Home.
What is home? Why is it so important?
In my World Cultures class, we recently watched a film about Tibet, as the students learned about the plight of the Tibetan people and their quest for independence. Whatever you feel about the whole issue, you have to admit that not being able to go "home" for 60 years would be terrible. Not ever knowing "home," as the children of the Tibetan refugees face, would be incomprehensible for most people.
Today in class we discussed current events. I printed a bunch of news articles from the regions and continents we have studied and I asked the students to read and respond. As a whole class, we read this. I asked to students to tell me what they thought about the idea of "home" and explain why they think that a bunch of dirt would be so important to people. After all, it's just dirt. Some of their responses surprised and astounded me, and I became emotional. One student mentioned how she always gets homesick when he goes to girls camp, and how she is so happy to get a letter from her parents because it's a piece of home. Another student said that home is always a haven, even if it's just in your imagination. Many of them expressed appreciation that someone would risk so much to give that gift to people he hadn't ever even met, or were very sad to learn of Tibetans who were born outside of their homeland and will most likely never get to go there in person.
It made me think of my family and how fragmented we all are. It made me homesick, and reminded me of the little pieces of home I carry with me on my physical person and in my heart: the smell of orange blossoms, the taste of Blue Bell Ice Cream, an abalone necklace that my grandmother gave me when I turned 16, my love of books, the songs I sing to myself when nobody is listening.
It made me think of my recent pilgrimage to Ireland, and how I've been homesick my entire life for the country that my family left generations ago. It's funny how much of the original pioneers' culture my family retains. We still plant wild, messy gardens wherever we can find a patch of dirt and act as if the trees are our family members. We still keep vinegar in the kitchen to use as a condiment. We still flock to the sea whenever we can, and revere it with an almost religious devotion. We still get dreamy whenever it starts to rain. We're still shy with strangers, and wild with our own.
I've never lived there, but to me Ireland is most definitely a home.
I thought of my husband who left his home 13 years ago to come to this strange, cold place with little more than a backpack full of clothes and the knowledge that he had work to be done here. I understood a little better the weepy Mariachi songs he sings when we clean house on Saturday. I understood a little better why he insists on attending church services in Spanish.
What is home?
Home.
Home.
I think it's the place we never stop trying to get back to.
Aside from Mother, Father, and God, it is possibly the most emotionally charged word in the English language.
Home.
What is home? Why is it so important?
In my World Cultures class, we recently watched a film about Tibet, as the students learned about the plight of the Tibetan people and their quest for independence. Whatever you feel about the whole issue, you have to admit that not being able to go "home" for 60 years would be terrible. Not ever knowing "home," as the children of the Tibetan refugees face, would be incomprehensible for most people.
Today in class we discussed current events. I printed a bunch of news articles from the regions and continents we have studied and I asked the students to read and respond. As a whole class, we read this. I asked to students to tell me what they thought about the idea of "home" and explain why they think that a bunch of dirt would be so important to people. After all, it's just dirt. Some of their responses surprised and astounded me, and I became emotional. One student mentioned how she always gets homesick when he goes to girls camp, and how she is so happy to get a letter from her parents because it's a piece of home. Another student said that home is always a haven, even if it's just in your imagination. Many of them expressed appreciation that someone would risk so much to give that gift to people he hadn't ever even met, or were very sad to learn of Tibetans who were born outside of their homeland and will most likely never get to go there in person.
It made me think of my family and how fragmented we all are. It made me homesick, and reminded me of the little pieces of home I carry with me on my physical person and in my heart: the smell of orange blossoms, the taste of Blue Bell Ice Cream, an abalone necklace that my grandmother gave me when I turned 16, my love of books, the songs I sing to myself when nobody is listening.
It made me think of my recent pilgrimage to Ireland, and how I've been homesick my entire life for the country that my family left generations ago. It's funny how much of the original pioneers' culture my family retains. We still plant wild, messy gardens wherever we can find a patch of dirt and act as if the trees are our family members. We still keep vinegar in the kitchen to use as a condiment. We still flock to the sea whenever we can, and revere it with an almost religious devotion. We still get dreamy whenever it starts to rain. We're still shy with strangers, and wild with our own.
I've never lived there, but to me Ireland is most definitely a home.
I thought of my husband who left his home 13 years ago to come to this strange, cold place with little more than a backpack full of clothes and the knowledge that he had work to be done here. I understood a little better the weepy Mariachi songs he sings when we clean house on Saturday. I understood a little better why he insists on attending church services in Spanish.
What is home?
Home.
Home.
I think it's the place we never stop trying to get back to.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Creamy Roasted Poblano Enchiladas
As per request, here's the recipe for the enchiladas we had for dinner, with the following disclaimer:
When I cook I don't measure. I eyeball. After cooking dinner for myself and my family for 15 years or so, I have a pretty good eye for how much of what goes in to certain recipes and I'm too lazy to wash the extra dishes, so this is my best guess at quantities.
1.5-2 lbs cooked and shredded chicken
1 box Neufchatel Cheese (or cream cheese)
2/3 cup (approximately) chicken broth
2 large or 3 small poblano chiles
Juice of 1/2 lime (or 2 key limes)
1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro
1/3-1/2 cup sour cream
2 cups shredded mozarella
Salt, Oregano, garlic to taste. I used approximately 1-2 tsp. salt, 1 tbsp oregano, and 2 tsp. garlic powder
package 20 Corn tortillas
Preparing Chiles: The key to this recipe is preparing the chiles, which sounds really tricky but is surprisingly simple. Wash the chiles and LIGHTLY coat them with olive oil. If you don't have olive oil, skip the oil part.
Put them on a broiler-safe pan and pop them in the broiler. Keep a very close eye on them (3-5 minutes or so). When they start to get toasty and brown, flip them, and brown the other side. When the chiles are evenly toasted all around, take them out of the oven and put them in a plastic bag. Tie the bag shut. Let them stand for about 10-15 minutes to sweat. You do this because most chiles have a thick waxy skin that is very unpleasant to eat. Toasting the skin softens it, and sweating the chiles loosens it up. Prepare the rest of the enchilada sauce while your chiles are sweating. When the chiles are ready, run cool water over them and gently rub the skin off. If a little bit of the flesh of the chile comes off with the skin, don't worry about it. I usually lose about 25-30% of the chile. Poblanos are pretty potent, so the 70-75% that makes it into the recipe is more than enough. This is the best time to remove the stem and seeds of the chile, as well. Be careful with the seeds. They contain capsaicin, which is the chemical which makes chiles hot. If your skin starts to burn, wash your hands really thoroughly with dish soap. It is an oily substance that has to be broken down with strong, moisturizer free soap. This almost never happens to me, but just in case, now you know what to do.
If this process sounds too tricky or intimidating, skip it and buy a couple of cans of canned green chiles from the Latin foods aisle at the supermarket. It won't taste the same, but it'll still be yummy.
Mix the Neufchatel, cilantro, sour cream, chicken broth, lime juice, salt, oregano, and garlic in a large-ish bowl. When the Poblanos are ready, dice them and add them in. Mix REALLY well. The mixture should be approximately the consistency of thin yogurt. It should be fairly light and fluffy. If it's too thick, add more chicken broth. If it's too thin, add more sour cream.
Warm the tortillas up in the microwave. Always warm tortillas before you make enchiladas. It makes the process WAAAAY easier. Dip the tortillas in the sauce, and then roll them up in a casserole dish with the chicken and a little bit of the shredded cheese inside... just like any other chicken enchilada recipe. Make sure you reserve about 1/2 of the cheese. When your pan is filled, dump the rest of the enchilada sauce on the top and spread it out evenly. Top it with the remaining cheese.
Cover with foil, and bake at 350 for about 30 minutes, until it gets nice and bubbly. Remove the foil and broil for 2-3 minutes until the cheese is lightly browned. Serve hot.
Yay! Enchiladas!
When I cook I don't measure. I eyeball. After cooking dinner for myself and my family for 15 years or so, I have a pretty good eye for how much of what goes in to certain recipes and I'm too lazy to wash the extra dishes, so this is my best guess at quantities.
1.5-2 lbs cooked and shredded chicken
1 box Neufchatel Cheese (or cream cheese)
2/3 cup (approximately) chicken broth
2 large or 3 small poblano chiles
Juice of 1/2 lime (or 2 key limes)
1/4 cup finely chopped cilantro
1/3-1/2 cup sour cream
2 cups shredded mozarella
Salt, Oregano, garlic to taste. I used approximately 1-2 tsp. salt, 1 tbsp oregano, and 2 tsp. garlic powder
package 20 Corn tortillas
Preparing Chiles: The key to this recipe is preparing the chiles, which sounds really tricky but is surprisingly simple. Wash the chiles and LIGHTLY coat them with olive oil. If you don't have olive oil, skip the oil part.
Put them on a broiler-safe pan and pop them in the broiler. Keep a very close eye on them (3-5 minutes or so). When they start to get toasty and brown, flip them, and brown the other side. When the chiles are evenly toasted all around, take them out of the oven and put them in a plastic bag. Tie the bag shut. Let them stand for about 10-15 minutes to sweat. You do this because most chiles have a thick waxy skin that is very unpleasant to eat. Toasting the skin softens it, and sweating the chiles loosens it up. Prepare the rest of the enchilada sauce while your chiles are sweating. When the chiles are ready, run cool water over them and gently rub the skin off. If a little bit of the flesh of the chile comes off with the skin, don't worry about it. I usually lose about 25-30% of the chile. Poblanos are pretty potent, so the 70-75% that makes it into the recipe is more than enough. This is the best time to remove the stem and seeds of the chile, as well. Be careful with the seeds. They contain capsaicin, which is the chemical which makes chiles hot. If your skin starts to burn, wash your hands really thoroughly with dish soap. It is an oily substance that has to be broken down with strong, moisturizer free soap. This almost never happens to me, but just in case, now you know what to do.
If this process sounds too tricky or intimidating, skip it and buy a couple of cans of canned green chiles from the Latin foods aisle at the supermarket. It won't taste the same, but it'll still be yummy.
Mix the Neufchatel, cilantro, sour cream, chicken broth, lime juice, salt, oregano, and garlic in a large-ish bowl. When the Poblanos are ready, dice them and add them in. Mix REALLY well. The mixture should be approximately the consistency of thin yogurt. It should be fairly light and fluffy. If it's too thick, add more chicken broth. If it's too thin, add more sour cream.
Warm the tortillas up in the microwave. Always warm tortillas before you make enchiladas. It makes the process WAAAAY easier. Dip the tortillas in the sauce, and then roll them up in a casserole dish with the chicken and a little bit of the shredded cheese inside... just like any other chicken enchilada recipe. Make sure you reserve about 1/2 of the cheese. When your pan is filled, dump the rest of the enchilada sauce on the top and spread it out evenly. Top it with the remaining cheese.
Cover with foil, and bake at 350 for about 30 minutes, until it gets nice and bubbly. Remove the foil and broil for 2-3 minutes until the cheese is lightly browned. Serve hot.
Yay! Enchiladas!
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
It's Soup Weather
Today I woke up and my knees felt all achy. That usually means one of two things: either I'm getting sick or else the weather is changing. Then I looked out my kitchen window and saw this:
I don't know if you caught that, but it seems that overnight we changed seasons. Strange really. Just a few days ago it was in the high eighties and today the leaves have started to turn and all of a sudden it's chill and rainy.
I love the autumn. What it lacks in the glory and majesty of spring, or the brazen sultriness of summer, it more than makes up for with bounty and sweetness. Autumn is so quiet. It always feels to me that the earth is taking a deep breath and then sighing, letting out it's final fruit-laden breaths before settling down to rest for the winter.
Seeing the red on the trees made me want to come home and nest- to inhale the last litle bits of my garden and cozy up by my fire. It made me think of soup, but not just any soup- a soup so full to bursting with rich summer flavors that eating it would make glad that autumn has arrived and sweep away tht tiny bit of longing I still have for those golden, sunny days now slipping through my fingers.
So such a soup I did make, from the ripest tomatoes on my vines, still fat and laden with the juices of summer, and the freshest, most aromatic leaves of basil I could pluck from my herb garden.
This soup is so simple, and so good.
I love the autumn. What it lacks in the glory and majesty of spring, or the brazen sultriness of summer, it more than makes up for with bounty and sweetness. Autumn is so quiet. It always feels to me that the earth is taking a deep breath and then sighing, letting out it's final fruit-laden breaths before settling down to rest for the winter.
Seeing the red on the trees made me want to come home and nest- to inhale the last litle bits of my garden and cozy up by my fire. It made me think of soup, but not just any soup- a soup so full to bursting with rich summer flavors that eating it would make glad that autumn has arrived and sweep away tht tiny bit of longing I still have for those golden, sunny days now slipping through my fingers.
So such a soup I did make, from the ripest tomatoes on my vines, still fat and laden with the juices of summer, and the freshest, most aromatic leaves of basil I could pluck from my herb garden.
This soup is so simple, and so good.
I basically followed Ina Garten's recipe without the carrots or tomato paste, and served it with a broiled croissant with cheese and mushroom.
It was magnificent, and tasted just like autumn should.
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Toys and Vacations
So lately I stink at blogging. I'm sorry. It's been a weird fall.
So where to begin?
Let's start at our anniversary. On August 19th hubs and I celebrated our eighth anniversary. School started a few days before so we kept it low key and decided to just go shopping for smart phones at a later date for our spent to each other. Thus begins one of the strangest chapters of my life so far.
As I previously mentioned, I feel so connected to everything that I don't really feel like I need to blog so much because I can get on line and check everyone's Facebook pages and blogs anywhere. In addition, I am extra ultra crazy busy at work. The new principal is the Bomb and I'm crazy about him, my students are the best I've ever had and I love them, my colleagues are the most fun, most professional people I've ever worked with, but boy is it a lot of work. I'm pulling looong days and loooolong weeks planning for and teaching so many classes.
Plus, as per our formal agreement, hubby has agreed to spend more time at home this year and I've agreed to clean the house more this year. That means that I'm doing housework every day after school (in between goofing off on my phone), and then hubby gets home super early and my previously ample free time has atrophied down to practically nothing.
So it's weird. I'm not alone as much as I used to be, and I have so much more to keep me busy. It's good, but weird at the same time. Adding to my free time dilemma is the new I pad my principal gave me. It's kind of a super secret under wraps project we're working on, but I may or may not be doing something super cool with the I pad in the near future, and he wants me to play around with it and figure out cool stuff to do on it. Done and done. Also coming up is mega super sister slumber party European edition 2011, which is basically where my sister Sara and I spend a week or so goofing off in London and Ireland with our little sister Emily, because she's awesome and we want to go see her. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Sara lives like five minutes away from me now. Frankly I'd rather spend time with her than blog, however, so I guess that's that. Thank heavens!
So that's the long story of my little hiatus from blogging. Stay tuned for pictures from my cool trip and hopefully some cool projects.
As far as blogging goes, I'm thinking of re-formatting and having a photo-oriented blog for my projects and keeping this blog a weekly update about family stuff. I have some friends that manage their blogs that way, and it seems to work pretty well.
So where to begin?
Let's start at our anniversary. On August 19th hubs and I celebrated our eighth anniversary. School started a few days before so we kept it low key and decided to just go shopping for smart phones at a later date for our spent to each other. Thus begins one of the strangest chapters of my life so far.
As I previously mentioned, I feel so connected to everything that I don't really feel like I need to blog so much because I can get on line and check everyone's Facebook pages and blogs anywhere. In addition, I am extra ultra crazy busy at work. The new principal is the Bomb and I'm crazy about him, my students are the best I've ever had and I love them, my colleagues are the most fun, most professional people I've ever worked with, but boy is it a lot of work. I'm pulling looong days and loooolong weeks planning for and teaching so many classes.
Plus, as per our formal agreement, hubby has agreed to spend more time at home this year and I've agreed to clean the house more this year. That means that I'm doing housework every day after school (in between goofing off on my phone), and then hubby gets home super early and my previously ample free time has atrophied down to practically nothing.
So it's weird. I'm not alone as much as I used to be, and I have so much more to keep me busy. It's good, but weird at the same time. Adding to my free time dilemma is the new I pad my principal gave me. It's kind of a super secret under wraps project we're working on, but I may or may not be doing something super cool with the I pad in the near future, and he wants me to play around with it and figure out cool stuff to do on it. Done and done. Also coming up is mega super sister slumber party European edition 2011, which is basically where my sister Sara and I spend a week or so goofing off in London and Ireland with our little sister Emily, because she's awesome and we want to go see her. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention that Sara lives like five minutes away from me now. Frankly I'd rather spend time with her than blog, however, so I guess that's that. Thank heavens!
So that's the long story of my little hiatus from blogging. Stay tuned for pictures from my cool trip and hopefully some cool projects.
As far as blogging goes, I'm thinking of re-formatting and having a photo-oriented blog for my projects and keeping this blog a weekly update about family stuff. I have some friends that manage their blogs that way, and it seems to work pretty well.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
My Phone is Hijacking my Life
So I got a Smart Phone. I finally just jumped on the bandwagon and did it. It's awesome. It's an HTC Sensation.
It may be the coolest thing I've ever owned. The problem is that between that and the unlimited Data plan we got (which, incidentally is only costing us like $20/month... go fig), I can't seem to put the dang thing down.
And it's so much more than Angry Birds. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've killed my fair share of pigs in the past week. But it's more than that. It's the Apps. So many free programs that I'm sure are going to help me live a happier better life, but which really just end up sucking all of my time like some mega vortex of free stuff that I can't escape. I mean, there are apps to teach you languages, apps to help you track fitness goals, apps for music, apps for games. Currently I'm listening to French radio streamed live to my phone. If I want to, I'm sure I could download BBC radio. I could download billions of recipes. I could walk around with a translator that could translate anything I say to any other language, or I could just read every book ever written, or watch movies and tv all day long. You know, whatever.
The quantity of information is staggering. It makes my laptop look like an antiquated piece of junk, and it's borderline scary, but I can't put my phone down.
Is this normal? Have any of you Smart Phone users ever OD'd on information?
And it's so much more than Angry Birds. I mean, don't get me wrong, I've killed my fair share of pigs in the past week. But it's more than that. It's the Apps. So many free programs that I'm sure are going to help me live a happier better life, but which really just end up sucking all of my time like some mega vortex of free stuff that I can't escape. I mean, there are apps to teach you languages, apps to help you track fitness goals, apps for music, apps for games. Currently I'm listening to French radio streamed live to my phone. If I want to, I'm sure I could download BBC radio. I could download billions of recipes. I could walk around with a translator that could translate anything I say to any other language, or I could just read every book ever written, or watch movies and tv all day long. You know, whatever.
The quantity of information is staggering. It makes my laptop look like an antiquated piece of junk, and it's borderline scary, but I can't put my phone down.
Is this normal? Have any of you Smart Phone users ever OD'd on information?
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
The Clock of Destiny, Part Un
Hubs donated my pretty wall clock to D.I. without consulting me, all because it was broken. I shouldn't be angry. He doesn't know you can buy replacement kits for like $10 at Hobby Lobby. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little peeved.
In protest, I went out to another thrift shop and bought this glorious beauty for $5.
I love the faux wood backing, classy brass, and oh-so-90's wood inlay. Can't you just see this sexy little number perched atop your mantel? What's that you say? It's hideous? Well feast your eyes on this!:
Is that even the same clock? Heck yes it is!
What I did: Coated the entire casing and pendulum arm with a layer of glossy charcoal Rustoleum, painted the backing matte black acrylic, removed and replaced ugly mod numerals with rad velum Roman Numerals (Mod Podged on), gold leafed the clock face, pendulum, and pin stripes. Bonus: the actual clock mechanism still worked fine, so the spare clock kit I bought will be judiciously applied to Clock of Destiny, Part Deux.
The best part? All the stuff I used was just laying around from previous projects. The paint was left over from the Hutch Makeover, and the gold leafing was surplus from the mirror. The Velum was left over from the last time I attempted scrapbooking back in 2004. Yeah. I suck at scrapbooking. But spray paint? Fuhgeddaboudit.
Grand Total? Still just $5.
Winning.
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
This just makes me so happy...
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Balance
Most of the time I feel like I'm walking a tightrope.
Trying to get from point A to point B is just so unnecessarily precarious, and it's all about balance.
Work, home, relationships, church callings, chores, fitness, personal time, it all has to be precisely calibrated for my life to maintain it's trajectory. Most of the time I feel like I'm learning to ride a bike all over again, wobbling all over the place, not really going anywhere, and just hoping to high heaven that I don't crash and knock all my teeth out. That's an ongoing phobia of mine, by the way- losing all my teeth. Not sure why, it just is.
But back on topic.
In April Luis and I had a "sit-down." After 7 1/2 years of marriage we had some issues we both needed to iron out, and they all more or less had to do with imbalances in our lives. It was a productive conversation, and since then I have been working out a few kinks in my life plan.
I realized that for so long I've been focusing on "some day" that I often fail to deal with the unnecessarily obnoxious daily tasks that have to be crossed off my checklist in order to maintain balance.
Take chores, for example. The Mr. and I have an agreement- I earn half the money and he does half the housework. Good idea on paper, but in practice, it doesn't always work. We've squabbled for years about laundry. His mom washes clothes every day, folds them, and puts them away for her family. As such, he's never learned how to stay on top of laundry himself and he washes clothes sporadically, based on the quantity of underwear left in his drawer. I've been doing my own laundry since I was 12. I hate it. I prefer to let it pile up until I have nothing to wear at all, and then wash the whole damn pile and leave it in a crumpled heap in the middle of the room as I steadily pick at it until it's all back in the dirty clothes bin. Gross, some may say. I say it's efficient. I am totally taking out the middle man here by completely bypassing drawers. Okay. I know it's gross, but give me a break. I have a lot on my plate to deal with here.
Clearly hubs is not okay with my laundry system, so we made an agreement years ago that one of us would wash, and the other would fold and put away. It's a two part system that also includes dishes- the washer of the clothes also washes dishes. The folder of the clothes dries and puts dishes away. It works okay, except that Sr. Farias likes to wait until odd times of the day and night to wash laundry at his convenience, and then gets flustered that I don't drop everything to fold his epic pile of laundry immediately. He doesn't like the clothes laying in crumpled heaps. I don't like to be ordered about (I have control issues). I mean, why does *he* get to pick when it's a good time to do laundry and not me? What if I'm in the middle of an artistic masterpiece and have just been struck by inspiration? You can't interrupt a funky groove to go fold underwear!
As I said- we've squabbled about this for years. It's not the only thing we squabble about, but it's very symptomatic of our relationship. We come from very different backgrounds, have very different standards of living, and want very different things out of life. I want flowers and sparkles and romance and music and magic, and he wants everything folded neatly and put away in a drawer so he can get to it later. Incidentally we both bring something very valuable and desperately needed into each other's lives, I feel. But I digress.
Balance. It's about balance. We decided that we have to stop judging each other for not being each other's own particular brand of crazy, and just accept that we are who we are. We decided we need to start balancing out what we want and working as a team to get things done. We decided that we need to stop waiting for each other to change and secretly resenting each other for being insane, and rather start working our idiosyncrasies into our life plans. Sure, we could just keep on going along and pretending everything is fine, but neither of us wanted to keep doing that. We've been together nearly 10 years, that man of mine and I. And when you're 29, 10 years is a long, LONG time to wait for someone to do what you want them to do.
Balance. Balancing the big stuff and the little stuff. Balancing out what needs to be done today and what needs to be done in an eternal perspective. Balancing out work and fun. Balancing out my needs and his. Balancing out ideals with reality.
Incidentally we decided he can do the laundry whenever he feels like it, and I will fold the laundry every Wednesday night at 9 p.m. Why Wednesday night at 9 p.m.? Because that's the best time for *me*. See? I told you I'm off my rocker.
It's about balance and we're getting closer. I feel like it's time to take the training wheels off.
Trying to get from point A to point B is just so unnecessarily precarious, and it's all about balance.
Work, home, relationships, church callings, chores, fitness, personal time, it all has to be precisely calibrated for my life to maintain it's trajectory. Most of the time I feel like I'm learning to ride a bike all over again, wobbling all over the place, not really going anywhere, and just hoping to high heaven that I don't crash and knock all my teeth out. That's an ongoing phobia of mine, by the way- losing all my teeth. Not sure why, it just is.
But back on topic.
In April Luis and I had a "sit-down." After 7 1/2 years of marriage we had some issues we both needed to iron out, and they all more or less had to do with imbalances in our lives. It was a productive conversation, and since then I have been working out a few kinks in my life plan.
I realized that for so long I've been focusing on "some day" that I often fail to deal with the unnecessarily obnoxious daily tasks that have to be crossed off my checklist in order to maintain balance.
Take chores, for example. The Mr. and I have an agreement- I earn half the money and he does half the housework. Good idea on paper, but in practice, it doesn't always work. We've squabbled for years about laundry. His mom washes clothes every day, folds them, and puts them away for her family. As such, he's never learned how to stay on top of laundry himself and he washes clothes sporadically, based on the quantity of underwear left in his drawer. I've been doing my own laundry since I was 12. I hate it. I prefer to let it pile up until I have nothing to wear at all, and then wash the whole damn pile and leave it in a crumpled heap in the middle of the room as I steadily pick at it until it's all back in the dirty clothes bin. Gross, some may say. I say it's efficient. I am totally taking out the middle man here by completely bypassing drawers. Okay. I know it's gross, but give me a break. I have a lot on my plate to deal with here.
Clearly hubs is not okay with my laundry system, so we made an agreement years ago that one of us would wash, and the other would fold and put away. It's a two part system that also includes dishes- the washer of the clothes also washes dishes. The folder of the clothes dries and puts dishes away. It works okay, except that Sr. Farias likes to wait until odd times of the day and night to wash laundry at his convenience, and then gets flustered that I don't drop everything to fold his epic pile of laundry immediately. He doesn't like the clothes laying in crumpled heaps. I don't like to be ordered about (I have control issues). I mean, why does *he* get to pick when it's a good time to do laundry and not me? What if I'm in the middle of an artistic masterpiece and have just been struck by inspiration? You can't interrupt a funky groove to go fold underwear!
As I said- we've squabbled about this for years. It's not the only thing we squabble about, but it's very symptomatic of our relationship. We come from very different backgrounds, have very different standards of living, and want very different things out of life. I want flowers and sparkles and romance and music and magic, and he wants everything folded neatly and put away in a drawer so he can get to it later. Incidentally we both bring something very valuable and desperately needed into each other's lives, I feel. But I digress.
Balance. It's about balance. We decided that we have to stop judging each other for not being each other's own particular brand of crazy, and just accept that we are who we are. We decided we need to start balancing out what we want and working as a team to get things done. We decided that we need to stop waiting for each other to change and secretly resenting each other for being insane, and rather start working our idiosyncrasies into our life plans. Sure, we could just keep on going along and pretending everything is fine, but neither of us wanted to keep doing that. We've been together nearly 10 years, that man of mine and I. And when you're 29, 10 years is a long, LONG time to wait for someone to do what you want them to do.
Balance. Balancing the big stuff and the little stuff. Balancing out what needs to be done today and what needs to be done in an eternal perspective. Balancing out work and fun. Balancing out my needs and his. Balancing out ideals with reality.
Incidentally we decided he can do the laundry whenever he feels like it, and I will fold the laundry every Wednesday night at 9 p.m. Why Wednesday night at 9 p.m.? Because that's the best time for *me*. See? I told you I'm off my rocker.
It's about balance and we're getting closer. I feel like it's time to take the training wheels off.
Friday, August 19, 2011
Time Flies...
8 years ago, I pledged my eternal love and devotion to Luis E. Farias in the Salt Lake City Temple of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. It was a warm, clear day and flowers were in full bloom everywhere I looked. I think of us then- two dumb kids who were willing to stare fate in the eye and make a go of the seemingly impossible. We were in love. So, so in love. The challenges ahead of us were already mounting- an instant step-family, a nagging ex, a cultural divide wider than any gaping earthly canyon, career pressure, time constraints, parental expectations- we didn't care. When you're young and in love, the mountains you have to climb together don't seem so unclimbable.
We still don't care, to be honest. A LOT has changed in the 8 years that we've been married, but all that really matters is that we're still so, so in love. My Luis really is the love of my life, come what may. He is the yang to my yin. He is the peanut butter to my jelly. He is the guitar solo on my A track. He has loved me through my not so beautiful moments, and my not so sweet moments. He has, despite my bum ovaries, made me a mother by sharing his son so selflessly with me. He has tenderly supported me whenever I needed him to help me just keep it together, which is pretty much every hour of every day.
You want to know a secret? I realized, recently, that we've been together for so long that I have trouble sifting out the parts of him which have drifted into me- mannerisms, words, accents, ideas. I knew when I married him that I would love him forever. I just didn't realize that 8 years later I would love him so much that he would actually become part of my identity. I didn't realize how much being married would change me, I hope for the better. But that's the way we love, I guess. Completely. I'm not kidding when I say that my heart beats for him, and for our little boy.
Thank you, Mr. Farias, for picking me. I still pick you. I will, in fact, love you para siempre.
We still don't care, to be honest. A LOT has changed in the 8 years that we've been married, but all that really matters is that we're still so, so in love. My Luis really is the love of my life, come what may. He is the yang to my yin. He is the peanut butter to my jelly. He is the guitar solo on my A track. He has loved me through my not so beautiful moments, and my not so sweet moments. He has, despite my bum ovaries, made me a mother by sharing his son so selflessly with me. He has tenderly supported me whenever I needed him to help me just keep it together, which is pretty much every hour of every day.
You want to know a secret? I realized, recently, that we've been together for so long that I have trouble sifting out the parts of him which have drifted into me- mannerisms, words, accents, ideas. I knew when I married him that I would love him forever. I just didn't realize that 8 years later I would love him so much that he would actually become part of my identity. I didn't realize how much being married would change me, I hope for the better. But that's the way we love, I guess. Completely. I'm not kidding when I say that my heart beats for him, and for our little boy.
Thank you, Mr. Farias, for picking me. I still pick you. I will, in fact, love you para siempre.
Monday, August 15, 2011
Back in the Saddle Again
Today is my last day of summer vacation. What a strange, wonderful, heartbreaking, life-changing three months it has been. I feel so odd walking away from my responsibilities at home and going back to work full time. I know it's for the best, though, at least for now. Mostly I will miss having my boy with me all day every day. Who gave him permission to be old enough to start 4th grade?
Anyway, it's time to go end our summer with our traditional hike up the Y. Get a little perspective, you know? Then we'll do some back to school shopping and chill out for the rest of the day at the public pool.
What are your family's back to school traditions?
Anyway, it's time to go end our summer with our traditional hike up the Y. Get a little perspective, you know? Then we'll do some back to school shopping and chill out for the rest of the day at the public pool.
What are your family's back to school traditions?
Thursday, July 28, 2011
woot
So my most recent internet addiction is this website of before/after photos called... wait for it... Better After. You can just take photos of your before and afters and send them in, and lovely Lindsey will post them on her blog for her adoring readers to browse. It's super addicting. I have spent an inappropriate amount of time reading in the three days since my sister Sara informed me about it.
Yesterday, I sent in a before and after of my own, and it was featured today. Hooray! I'm freaking out like one of those "Price Is Right" contestants that start crying while they jump up and down and clap. "Camille's Hutch? Come on down!!!" It's probably the best thing that's happened to me all summer.
Here is the link.
Enjoy the hours of before and after goodness on Better After, but not too much!
Yesterday, I sent in a before and after of my own, and it was featured today. Hooray! I'm freaking out like one of those "Price Is Right" contestants that start crying while they jump up and down and clap. "Camille's Hutch? Come on down!!!" It's probably the best thing that's happened to me all summer.
Here is the link.
Enjoy the hours of before and after goodness on Better After, but not too much!
Friday, July 22, 2011
Roses for Henry
I believe that families are forever. This is my testimony...
I am no stranger to loss. In fact, losing things seems to be one of my defining characteristics; lost keys, lost bills, lost scholarships, lost shoes, lost temper, lost sunglasses, lost sanity, lost sense of propriety...
This is nothing new. When I was 6 I lost my brothers. My mom was pregnant with twins (Andrew and Anthony). They were to complete the Fantastic Four Circle of Awesomeness, consisting of them, myself, and my sister Emily. We were going to be Super Heroes. We were going to be Epic. We were going to change the world. Then something went wrong and out of nowhere, they were gone.
I remember staring at the little casket they shared thinking about how scared I was of what was inside. Not scared of my brothers, not even scared of their little bodies, but of Death. I was six. Death was real and it was in my house. Even after they were buried, Death stuck around. Not long after, my parents divorced. My life still wreaked of Death. I spent years running away from it, but you don't get over something like that. Not all the way. Not ever. And although the wounds have long since healed, I will proudly bear those scars for the rest of my life. My little brothers will always be an integral part of who I am.
The remainder of my childhood was spent bouncing around from parent to parent, lost somewhere between Fresno, Houston, and nowhere. I wasn't totally my mother's. I wasn't totally my father's. I didn't really belong anywhere. Whenever there were family photos, after the big group shot I was told to go wait in the corners while photos were taken for other kids' dads. Somehow I managed, however, because I was never alone in those corners- I had Emily.
Emily is the single most important person in my life, aside from my husband and step-son. She is me. I am her. We are one unit, functioning separately but united forever by genetics, shared circumstances, laughter, tears, innumerable personal jokes, and the knowledge that what we have survived together has bonded us in a way few people will ever understand. You see, Emily and I grew up in a church that teaches that families are forever. I've always struggled with that concept due to my fairly unique circumstances, but always felt that somehow, some way, no matter how strange it may look to those on the outside, I do have a family. If nothing else, as long as I have Emily I'll never be by myself. She and I will always belong with each other.
Still, it's often very difficult to accept that my family is so fragmented and I must confess I often find myself bearing resentment towards those who have simple, nuclear families. Two weeks ago I was asked to teach a lesson in our church's Women's Group class. I teach every second Sunday and usually have a great time, but I agonized over this lesson because the theme was "Families Can Be Together Forever." I kept thinking to myself, how can I teach this class on "Forever Families" when I have divorced parents and no children of my own? Divorce and Infertility have, it seems, shattered my dreams of having a "real" family, and Death and Loss haunt the fragments of whatever it is that I have left over.
Then it hit me with great power; although my parents are not perfect, although I am not perfect, although my dear husband isn't perfect, although my body is not perfect enough to bear any children of my own, my Savior Jesus Christ and my Heavenly Father are Infinitely Perfect. I don't know how the various pieces of my broken family will be restored, but I know that in Christ all things will be made whole. Death and Loss have been conquered by the Glorious Resurrection of our Lord.
I realized in preparing that lesson that my life, my family, my dreams, aren't actually shattered or lost at all. When you shatter something, there's only one way to put it back together. The process is long and agonizing, and more often than not, impossible. If a piece is missing or put back in the wrong place, there is a hole which will prevent the unit from functioning until that piece is restored. That's how I've been looking at my life for so long, seeing so many cracks and missing pieces. But I realize now that's just not true. With so much love and beauty all around me all the time, how can I ever think that my life is broken?
Instead, I think my family is more like a rose bush. A branch cut from a rose bush, left to the hands of most people will wither and die without the parent bush to support it. However, in a master's hands a branch cut from a rose bush, any rose bush, carefully tended, watered, placed in soft fertile soil when the time is just right, and kept from drying out will grow roots where it is planted and become a new bush of its own. It's actually a fairly simple process. The trick is to get the timing right. Planted too early in the year, the branch will rot in the early spring rains. Too late and it will dry up before it has a chance to root. But a master gardener knows just which branches are strong enough to survive being taken from the bush, knows where to plant them to keep them strong and healthy, and waits until the moment is right to do the cutting.
I think my family is like a great rose bush with branches cut off and scattered all over the world, all tended to by a Master Gardener. I believe that when the great day of Resurrection occurs and all those little branches are gathered back together, we will never be just one bush again, but rather we will be an entire garden of blossoming roses.
I know that one of the brightest and most beautiful roses will be my tiny, perfect nephew, Henry- Emily's firstborn son, who was cut off from his family last night after a brilliant and beautiful 2 weeks on Earth. I know Henry is not lost, or gone, but simply moved to a different corner of our Family Garden where his spirit can keep growing and increasing the beauty of our family. I know that in the hands of the Master he will continue to bless us with his sweetness and strength until that Great Day when we will all be gathered up and planted together again.
Death and Loss are powerless. As the Apostle Paul teaches in Romans 8, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? Nay in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
I know that although at times we may not fully understand his will, God's plan for us is perfect and that our family will all be together again one day.
Emily's sweet friend Mona wrote another tribute to dear Henry, here.
I am no stranger to loss. In fact, losing things seems to be one of my defining characteristics; lost keys, lost bills, lost scholarships, lost shoes, lost temper, lost sunglasses, lost sanity, lost sense of propriety...
This is nothing new. When I was 6 I lost my brothers. My mom was pregnant with twins (Andrew and Anthony). They were to complete the Fantastic Four Circle of Awesomeness, consisting of them, myself, and my sister Emily. We were going to be Super Heroes. We were going to be Epic. We were going to change the world. Then something went wrong and out of nowhere, they were gone.
I remember staring at the little casket they shared thinking about how scared I was of what was inside. Not scared of my brothers, not even scared of their little bodies, but of Death. I was six. Death was real and it was in my house. Even after they were buried, Death stuck around. Not long after, my parents divorced. My life still wreaked of Death. I spent years running away from it, but you don't get over something like that. Not all the way. Not ever. And although the wounds have long since healed, I will proudly bear those scars for the rest of my life. My little brothers will always be an integral part of who I am.
The remainder of my childhood was spent bouncing around from parent to parent, lost somewhere between Fresno, Houston, and nowhere. I wasn't totally my mother's. I wasn't totally my father's. I didn't really belong anywhere. Whenever there were family photos, after the big group shot I was told to go wait in the corners while photos were taken for other kids' dads. Somehow I managed, however, because I was never alone in those corners- I had Emily.
Emily is the single most important person in my life, aside from my husband and step-son. She is me. I am her. We are one unit, functioning separately but united forever by genetics, shared circumstances, laughter, tears, innumerable personal jokes, and the knowledge that what we have survived together has bonded us in a way few people will ever understand. You see, Emily and I grew up in a church that teaches that families are forever. I've always struggled with that concept due to my fairly unique circumstances, but always felt that somehow, some way, no matter how strange it may look to those on the outside, I do have a family. If nothing else, as long as I have Emily I'll never be by myself. She and I will always belong with each other.
Still, it's often very difficult to accept that my family is so fragmented and I must confess I often find myself bearing resentment towards those who have simple, nuclear families. Two weeks ago I was asked to teach a lesson in our church's Women's Group class. I teach every second Sunday and usually have a great time, but I agonized over this lesson because the theme was "Families Can Be Together Forever." I kept thinking to myself, how can I teach this class on "Forever Families" when I have divorced parents and no children of my own? Divorce and Infertility have, it seems, shattered my dreams of having a "real" family, and Death and Loss haunt the fragments of whatever it is that I have left over.
Then it hit me with great power; although my parents are not perfect, although I am not perfect, although my dear husband isn't perfect, although my body is not perfect enough to bear any children of my own, my Savior Jesus Christ and my Heavenly Father are Infinitely Perfect. I don't know how the various pieces of my broken family will be restored, but I know that in Christ all things will be made whole. Death and Loss have been conquered by the Glorious Resurrection of our Lord.
I realized in preparing that lesson that my life, my family, my dreams, aren't actually shattered or lost at all. When you shatter something, there's only one way to put it back together. The process is long and agonizing, and more often than not, impossible. If a piece is missing or put back in the wrong place, there is a hole which will prevent the unit from functioning until that piece is restored. That's how I've been looking at my life for so long, seeing so many cracks and missing pieces. But I realize now that's just not true. With so much love and beauty all around me all the time, how can I ever think that my life is broken?
Instead, I think my family is more like a rose bush. A branch cut from a rose bush, left to the hands of most people will wither and die without the parent bush to support it. However, in a master's hands a branch cut from a rose bush, any rose bush, carefully tended, watered, placed in soft fertile soil when the time is just right, and kept from drying out will grow roots where it is planted and become a new bush of its own. It's actually a fairly simple process. The trick is to get the timing right. Planted too early in the year, the branch will rot in the early spring rains. Too late and it will dry up before it has a chance to root. But a master gardener knows just which branches are strong enough to survive being taken from the bush, knows where to plant them to keep them strong and healthy, and waits until the moment is right to do the cutting.
I think my family is like a great rose bush with branches cut off and scattered all over the world, all tended to by a Master Gardener. I believe that when the great day of Resurrection occurs and all those little branches are gathered back together, we will never be just one bush again, but rather we will be an entire garden of blossoming roses.
I know that one of the brightest and most beautiful roses will be my tiny, perfect nephew, Henry- Emily's firstborn son, who was cut off from his family last night after a brilliant and beautiful 2 weeks on Earth. I know Henry is not lost, or gone, but simply moved to a different corner of our Family Garden where his spirit can keep growing and increasing the beauty of our family. I know that in the hands of the Master he will continue to bless us with his sweetness and strength until that Great Day when we will all be gathered up and planted together again.
Death and Loss are powerless. As the Apostle Paul teaches in Romans 8, "Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril or sword? Nay in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us. For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord."
I know that although at times we may not fully understand his will, God's plan for us is perfect and that our family will all be together again one day.
Emily's sweet friend Mona wrote another tribute to dear Henry, here.
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Insomnia
I suffer from chronic insomnia. I just can't fall asleep sometimes. I lay awake in bed tossing and turning and trying to get comfortable until all hours of the night.
I'm pretty used to it, and I have my coping mechanisms, but today was something new. I sat up in bed, bolt upright at 5:00 and couldn't go back to sleep. I tried EVERYTHING, and should have been easily able to drop back off to sleep, but to no avail. I wonder why.
Anyway, today I'm on deck with a solid 4 1/2 hours of sleep. It should make for an interesting day.
Hope you got a little more sleep than I did.
I'm pretty used to it, and I have my coping mechanisms, but today was something new. I sat up in bed, bolt upright at 5:00 and couldn't go back to sleep. I tried EVERYTHING, and should have been easily able to drop back off to sleep, but to no avail. I wonder why.
Anyway, today I'm on deck with a solid 4 1/2 hours of sleep. It should make for an interesting day.
Hope you got a little more sleep than I did.
Tuesday, July 12, 2011
What does summer mean to you?
When I was a kid, most of my summers were spent chillin' at my mom's house watching taped episodes of "The Simpson's" and making Popsicle runs down to Hansen's, a dusty old mom and pop's general store lost in the blazing-hot haze that is the pillar of my childhood memories of Fresno. My sisters and I would cut models, clothes, furniture, and rooms out of the old Sears and JC Penny's catalogs and make doll houses that we would tape together and then pin to the walls of our rooms with thumb tacks. We would turn on the hose and run around outside in the sun, and put lemon juice in our hair to bleach sunny colored streaks into our manes. We would paint our nails and toes in outrageous colors and designs, and sew Barbie clothes out of the scraps from my older sister's prom dresses. When we got older, we would play poker using bean soup mix for chips and give each other haircuts and makeovers.
I didn't realize that we were lacking in material wealth, because to me I had everything in the world.
This is the first summer since before he was in Kindergarten that I've had the boy during the summer. His mom usually packs him off to NYC to chill in his grandma's apartment in the Bronx. He baits her rat traps, plays in the fire hydrants outside, stays up until 2 in the morning watching cartoons, eats a lot of Chinese take out and arroz con pollo, and on weekends they take trips to Central Park or the beach. Last summer he came home with a garbage sack full of shells he'd found on some Atlantic strip of sand while clamming with his Dominican Abuelita, whom he claims boils water and cooks the clams right there on the beach.
This summer Abuelita Germania is working. That means I have the distinct privilege and blessing of being a full time summer parent. And let me tell you... IT. IS. AWESOME!!!
We spend our days sleeping in, making pancakes that fill our tummies to bursting, riding our bikes down to the river and playing on the swing hanging from the ancient oak trees on its banks; finding sticks and racing them under bridges; eating Hawaiian shaved ices that melt in the sun and stain our shirts and hands with sticky goodness. We have been extremely privileged to share our adventures with my sister Sara and her kids, who came over to help us paint last week, and with "the primos," the children of Luis's cousin Roger. Today Andrei and the primos are clearing the cobwebs, dust, and grime out of our old tree house and turning it in to a club house, which is sure to be the home for the rest of the summer to board games, Popsicles, finger painted walls, secrets, sleep overs, fart jokes, and childhood dreams.
In my imagination, heaven is just a big long summer break, club house included.
*****************************************
What are your most cherished summer memories, as a parent, honorary summer parent, or child?
I didn't realize that we were lacking in material wealth, because to me I had everything in the world.
This is the first summer since before he was in Kindergarten that I've had the boy during the summer. His mom usually packs him off to NYC to chill in his grandma's apartment in the Bronx. He baits her rat traps, plays in the fire hydrants outside, stays up until 2 in the morning watching cartoons, eats a lot of Chinese take out and arroz con pollo, and on weekends they take trips to Central Park or the beach. Last summer he came home with a garbage sack full of shells he'd found on some Atlantic strip of sand while clamming with his Dominican Abuelita, whom he claims boils water and cooks the clams right there on the beach.
This summer Abuelita Germania is working. That means I have the distinct privilege and blessing of being a full time summer parent. And let me tell you... IT. IS. AWESOME!!!
We spend our days sleeping in, making pancakes that fill our tummies to bursting, riding our bikes down to the river and playing on the swing hanging from the ancient oak trees on its banks; finding sticks and racing them under bridges; eating Hawaiian shaved ices that melt in the sun and stain our shirts and hands with sticky goodness. We have been extremely privileged to share our adventures with my sister Sara and her kids, who came over to help us paint last week, and with "the primos," the children of Luis's cousin Roger. Today Andrei and the primos are clearing the cobwebs, dust, and grime out of our old tree house and turning it in to a club house, which is sure to be the home for the rest of the summer to board games, Popsicles, finger painted walls, secrets, sleep overs, fart jokes, and childhood dreams.
In my imagination, heaven is just a big long summer break, club house included.
*****************************************
What are your most cherished summer memories, as a parent, honorary summer parent, or child?
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
It's a Boy!
I'm so glad to say that this morning at 5:09 Greenwich Time, baby Gray was born 15 weeks early. I am proud to be the first one to welcome him officially.
Henry, this is for you. Welcome at last!
Friday, July 1, 2011
Girl Cave Phase 1
So my dream of having a Girl Cave is one major step closer to fruition.
Today I put together my work table and got the majority of the furniture moved in to the room.
Remember, this is the room that Brendan moved out of, after living there for 6 months, preceded by Ana's 2.5 year occupation. In order to create more meaning and purpose in my life, I have reclaimed my previous "guest room" nee' "office" and am turning it into my own Girl Cave (aka Craft Room). The way I figure, I have a husband and son, and most of my house is a man cave. I need a space of my own.
So far, I have a big TV for watching movies, storage for books, supplies, and scrap book paper, a hutch for my fabrics, an big round work table/cutting table, two comfy chairs for chatting, and a long narrow table which will serve as *gasp* a permanent home for my sewing machine. This is a big deal for me because like most ladies my age, every time I want to sew something I have to unpack EVERYTHING, set up shop in the middle of the living room or kitchen, feeling guilty the whole time about the mess my family is living with, deal with casually disguised complaints by hubby about scraps on the floor, and then pack it all up when I'm done. It's very discouraging, and makes me not want to do things. Now, all I have to do is remove the snazzy dust cover off my machines (both serger and sewing) and go to town. I'm telling you, I'm already itching to get started.
But first I still have to: paint the hutch, recover the upholstered chairs, make a peg board, cork board, and magnet board, stock the large walk-in closet with organizational shelving, and unpack/organize my 7 bins of craft supplies.
Oh, but it feels SOOOO good to come this far. The new room is down the hall from the big TV, so the boys can watch TV and play video games and I can actually *see* and TALK to them while I'm working. And the best part is that I even get Internet signal in this room so I can blog about all my pretty projects right here in command central.
It's an actual dream come true, I say!
Stay tuned next week for pictures of the final product.
Today I put together my work table and got the majority of the furniture moved in to the room.
Remember, this is the room that Brendan moved out of, after living there for 6 months, preceded by Ana's 2.5 year occupation. In order to create more meaning and purpose in my life, I have reclaimed my previous "guest room" nee' "office" and am turning it into my own Girl Cave (aka Craft Room). The way I figure, I have a husband and son, and most of my house is a man cave. I need a space of my own.
So far, I have a big TV for watching movies, storage for books, supplies, and scrap book paper, a hutch for my fabrics, an big round work table/cutting table, two comfy chairs for chatting, and a long narrow table which will serve as *gasp* a permanent home for my sewing machine. This is a big deal for me because like most ladies my age, every time I want to sew something I have to unpack EVERYTHING, set up shop in the middle of the living room or kitchen, feeling guilty the whole time about the mess my family is living with, deal with casually disguised complaints by hubby about scraps on the floor, and then pack it all up when I'm done. It's very discouraging, and makes me not want to do things. Now, all I have to do is remove the snazzy dust cover off my machines (both serger and sewing) and go to town. I'm telling you, I'm already itching to get started.
But first I still have to: paint the hutch, recover the upholstered chairs, make a peg board, cork board, and magnet board, stock the large walk-in closet with organizational shelving, and unpack/organize my 7 bins of craft supplies.
Oh, but it feels SOOOO good to come this far. The new room is down the hall from the big TV, so the boys can watch TV and play video games and I can actually *see* and TALK to them while I'm working. And the best part is that I even get Internet signal in this room so I can blog about all my pretty projects right here in command central.
It's an actual dream come true, I say!
Stay tuned next week for pictures of the final product.
Friday, June 24, 2011
So much to blog about, so little time...
I'm baaaack!
It's been so crazy these past 3 and a half weeks. The first month of summer break has FLOWN by.
I'll be posting a lot in the next week just to try and get caught up.
Starting from the beginning.
The day after school got out, my mom and step-dad showed up here with a trailer to empty out the storage unit my mom has been maintaining here with the furniture from my Grandma's house. The next two weeks was a blur of building, cleaning, painting, painting, more painting, and organizing.
The final score: 3 new rooms, plus new floors ordered for and installed in most of the house, plus old/ new furniture for her master bedroom and living room.
Here's the photo evidence.
We also spent a ton of time refinishing some of her old furniture. My mom has fantastic solid wood furniture, some of which has been in the family since she was a kid. Most of it, though, was either severely water damaged, scratched to pieces by cats, or sloppily painted by her teenagers back in the 90's. Cough. Rather than sand everything down to bare wood and restain it, mom decided to take a gamble and let me do some paint finishes. I think the results speak for themselves.
I don't have any photos of the finished craft room, but here's a partially finished one that at least shows off some of the cool tables I made for mom out of old doors, and the paint colors we were working with. The general color scheme was yellow, navy, and red, and she wanted it to be a fun, energetic, vintage inspired place where she can just create.
The guest room we kept really simple. We just freshened up the existing paint, put in some furniture from grandma's house, and some linens. It's a much more romantic, softer feeling room. This is mostly due to the ivy stenciling and window boxes that a few of us girls did back when we were teenagers in that room.
The office was my favorite room. The photos don't do justice to the rich colors and cool Hollywood Regency feel in there. I seriously would find myself just standing in there whenever I wasn't doing something somewhere else.
Anyway, it was the experience of a lifetime. I'm amazed we got through it, and I can't see what mom does with the rest of the place. I'll be back at Christmas and we'll have to do like a "6 months later" feature.
Now excuse me while I go do 7 million loads of laundry and spend the next several hours editing photos of Cancun. It's good to be back!
It's been so crazy these past 3 and a half weeks. The first month of summer break has FLOWN by.
I'll be posting a lot in the next week just to try and get caught up.
Starting from the beginning.
The day after school got out, my mom and step-dad showed up here with a trailer to empty out the storage unit my mom has been maintaining here with the furniture from my Grandma's house. The next two weeks was a blur of building, cleaning, painting, painting, more painting, and organizing.
The final score: 3 new rooms, plus new floors ordered for and installed in most of the house, plus old/ new furniture for her master bedroom and living room.
Here's the photo evidence.
Before:
This is what my mom's house looked like after she spent several weeks taking everything out of all the shelves, drawers, cupboards, closets, etc. For the record most of the junk being cleaned out was stuff either my sister Emily or I had left behind when we moved out and got married, compounded with all the stuff my mom had been gathering in order to complete this makeover. It was CRAZY. The first 2 photos are mid sorting. I was emptying out that huge hutch and figuring out what stuff to keep, what stuff to send off to other people, what to donate, etc.
During:
Once we got rid of everything we ripped out the old carpet, cleaned everything thoroughly, and then painted.
After:
The guest room we kept really simple. We just freshened up the existing paint, put in some furniture from grandma's house, and some linens. It's a much more romantic, softer feeling room. This is mostly due to the ivy stenciling and window boxes that a few of us girls did back when we were teenagers in that room.
(This antique mirror is actually a creepy unicorn clock in a gosh-aweful faux gold frame that I fixed up with some mirror paint and ivory Krylon)
Now excuse me while I go do 7 million loads of laundry and spend the next several hours editing photos of Cancun. It's good to be back!
Thursday, June 9, 2011
Waiting for Paint to Dry
Sorry I've been MIA for a while. I'm here in beautiful sunny California waiting for paint to dry. Seriously. I've spent a week and a half primarily doing just that.
My mom needed some work done on her house, so I came out as soon as school got out and we cleaned, refloored, painted and decorated the three non-master bedrooms in her house. We turned one of them into a cozy guest room, another into a bright and cheery craft room, and the third into the most gorgeous home office I've ever seen. Seriosly. I'm considering moving into this office permanently.
We've been pulling LOOOONG days; typically 8 in the morning until way past midnight, stopping only for food and countless trips to Home Depot. It's been backbreaking, frustrating, dirty work for the most part but transforming my childhood home into an empty-nest retreat for my parents has been well worth the effort.
I'm finishing up details today and doing some serious deep cleaning tomorrow, and then I will take a bunch of "after" pictures. Hopefully I'll get those posted by this weekend.
In the mean time, I think the shelf brackets I spray painted are probably dry and ready to hang, so I better get back to work.
My mom needed some work done on her house, so I came out as soon as school got out and we cleaned, refloored, painted and decorated the three non-master bedrooms in her house. We turned one of them into a cozy guest room, another into a bright and cheery craft room, and the third into the most gorgeous home office I've ever seen. Seriosly. I'm considering moving into this office permanently.
We've been pulling LOOOONG days; typically 8 in the morning until way past midnight, stopping only for food and countless trips to Home Depot. It's been backbreaking, frustrating, dirty work for the most part but transforming my childhood home into an empty-nest retreat for my parents has been well worth the effort.
I'm finishing up details today and doing some serious deep cleaning tomorrow, and then I will take a bunch of "after" pictures. Hopefully I'll get those posted by this weekend.
In the mean time, I think the shelf brackets I spray painted are probably dry and ready to hang, so I better get back to work.
Friday, May 27, 2011
Last Day!
Today is the last day of school in my School District for the year. Usually school year's end is a bitter sweet experience for me, but this year it's not so bitter. My students were difficult, my schedule grueling, my job thankless, my administrators critical, and the stress unrelenting.
We're getting a new principal next year. He seems pretty chilled out. It will be interesting to see how the job changes with a new captain at the wheel.
In the mean time, I'm going to spend most of June running as far away from this place as I can get on our limited summer-fun budget. I'll be in Cali for 2 weeks helping my mom do some work on her house, and then I'll be back for about 4 days before leaving again to go to Cancun for a week. Originally we were going to go on a Baltic Cruise this summer with my sister Emily and her husband, but it just felt like bad timing on our part so we decided to keep things more local. I realized the other day how snobby that sounds to say that going to Cancun is our stay-cation. But traveling to Mexico all the time I guess is one of the major perks of being married to someone from that country. And I'm mostly just glad that we're staying at an actual hotel instead of sleeping on some relative's couch and watching Novelas for a week which is our usual Mexican-Vacation-Itinerary. Nuestra Belleza Latina is over now (Nastassja is such a heffer- Gredmarie should have won!), so the only thing to watch these days anyway is Teresa. This week Teresa got married to Arturo even though she slept with Mariano the night before the wedding and professed her undying love to him, and Mariano crashed her wedding and punched Arturo in the face. We're pretty sure in the next episodes it will be revealed that Teresa is pregnant with Mariano's child, but she'll keep it a secret from Arturo because she just wants him for his money.
Yup. We're a glamorous bunch.
I'm also pretty excited about seeing Xcaret and some bad-@** Mayan ruins. The Maya are, after all, my favorite Pre-Columbian Indigenous Culture.
So good-bye school and hello 11 weeks of sleeping in, laying out, and pretending I'm a pampered stay-at-home wife.
June, I love you, baby!
We're getting a new principal next year. He seems pretty chilled out. It will be interesting to see how the job changes with a new captain at the wheel.
In the mean time, I'm going to spend most of June running as far away from this place as I can get on our limited summer-fun budget. I'll be in Cali for 2 weeks helping my mom do some work on her house, and then I'll be back for about 4 days before leaving again to go to Cancun for a week. Originally we were going to go on a Baltic Cruise this summer with my sister Emily and her husband, but it just felt like bad timing on our part so we decided to keep things more local. I realized the other day how snobby that sounds to say that going to Cancun is our stay-cation. But traveling to Mexico all the time I guess is one of the major perks of being married to someone from that country. And I'm mostly just glad that we're staying at an actual hotel instead of sleeping on some relative's couch and watching Novelas for a week which is our usual Mexican-Vacation-Itinerary. Nuestra Belleza Latina is over now (Nastassja is such a heffer- Gredmarie should have won!), so the only thing to watch these days anyway is Teresa. This week Teresa got married to Arturo even though she slept with Mariano the night before the wedding and professed her undying love to him, and Mariano crashed her wedding and punched Arturo in the face. We're pretty sure in the next episodes it will be revealed that Teresa is pregnant with Mariano's child, but she'll keep it a secret from Arturo because she just wants him for his money.
Yup. We're a glamorous bunch.
I'm also pretty excited about seeing Xcaret and some bad-@** Mayan ruins. The Maya are, after all, my favorite Pre-Columbian Indigenous Culture.
So good-bye school and hello 11 weeks of sleeping in, laying out, and pretending I'm a pampered stay-at-home wife.
June, I love you, baby!
Thursday, May 19, 2011
Help me Pick!
With Brendan moving out this past week, I have decided to suck it up and try to turn my now empty downstairs bedroom into a craft room.
I'm enlisting your help. I have a general sense of what I'd like the room to feel like and how I'd like it to function, but I have no mental image of how I'm going to go about setting it up.
First thing I need to decide is a color scheme. Which of the following should I go with?
#1 Green and Gold
#2 Gold and Greige (Greyish Beige)
#3 Black and Yellow
#4 Blue and Red
I should probably mention that I'm not going to be repainting the walls, which are a medium taupe color with creamy white trim. I have some furniture for the room already- 2 chairs from my grandmother's estate which I plan on recovering in material to match, but not painting. They are a honey-colored wood. The room has a similar-toned thick wood blind that I'm planning on leaving up, but possibly supplementing with some cafe curtains. I have a small hutch which I purchased for $10 off of craigslist which will be painted to match whatever color scheme I end up with.
I should also mention that this room is by far the darkest, coldest room in the house, so I've gone out of my way to select color schemes that will help warm up the space and make it more inviting. It also has a direct view of some of the prettiest parts of my garden, so I'd like to keep that in mind as well.
So please leave me a comment and tell me what you think!
I'm enlisting your help. I have a general sense of what I'd like the room to feel like and how I'd like it to function, but I have no mental image of how I'm going to go about setting it up.
First thing I need to decide is a color scheme. Which of the following should I go with?
#1 Green and Gold
#2 Gold and Greige (Greyish Beige)
#3 Black and Yellow
#4 Blue and Red
I should probably mention that I'm not going to be repainting the walls, which are a medium taupe color with creamy white trim. I have some furniture for the room already- 2 chairs from my grandmother's estate which I plan on recovering in material to match, but not painting. They are a honey-colored wood. The room has a similar-toned thick wood blind that I'm planning on leaving up, but possibly supplementing with some cafe curtains. I have a small hutch which I purchased for $10 off of craigslist which will be painted to match whatever color scheme I end up with.
I should also mention that this room is by far the darkest, coldest room in the house, so I've gone out of my way to select color schemes that will help warm up the space and make it more inviting. It also has a direct view of some of the prettiest parts of my garden, so I'd like to keep that in mind as well.
So please leave me a comment and tell me what you think!
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