Blabbering....

A blog can be a place where I can just blabber, right? About -- anything? That's okay, right? It doesn't always have to have organization, good grammar, allusions or other such writing elements. Nor does it have to have a point, and stuff, does it?

I hope not.

Because on this sunshiny day, I feel like just expressing myself -- free writing if you will! Oh, and by the way, you are joining me for lunch -- a 'yummy' low-fat, low carb yogurt, protein powder (I gave in and bought some) and bran buds. Can we say chunky cement? Here's to health food!

Regardless, I am glad you are joining me!

So I've decided (well j.b. and I decided--since in a good marriage, decisions are unified...non?) to work out with a dear friend on Sunday mornings. Yes. I have taken yet another step toward the fit s.b of latter years. I kinda miss her. Though I don't miss her psychotic workout schedule, regime, or mind-set, so I am hoping to remain relaxed and realistic here.

(As relaxed as one S.B. can be, you see)!

Anyhow, so I was in this great class called Body Attack, and I looked around the room at all the sweaty ladies, and I decided. I decided that it had to have been a woman who invented the gym. Or, if not the gym, then at least the whole group fitness concept. Because it is exactly what every woman needs. Or at least in my humble and maybe slightly biased opinion.


I don't know if I am over-stepping here, but this applies to me at least; being a woman is often one lonely doctrine. We are so busy caring for and keeping up with our families and lives and homes and jobs and and AND! That we barely barely have time for a real social life. And we are women. We need NETWORKS. This fact is like written into our our DNA or something. Communication is what we do!

Yet, our lives, especially these days, just doo not let us. And we need to be social.

We need each other.

So I looked around at all these sweaty women and I was like, wow, we are in this together. For this hour, we are a network: we are each others' social outlet and inspirations! And for me, meeting my girlfriend and doing some exercise as well is just perfect: two birds, one stone. There are only so many hours in a day and I want each one to count.

So I am feeling, post-workout, very energized and socialized! Much needed.

I admire always the amount my hubby manages to socialize. He just has so many friends. And mine, though I do have them, are either very busy with their own lives, or living just that little bit too far (either across town, or towns away) for us to really make a go at  the whole meeting up and hanging, thing.

And we are just way way too busy, aren't we? I mean, how do we fit in all we need to do in a day -- and try , when we can, to look and feel good too?

So I was busily moving my behind in this class marveling at the wonders of women: and realizing that we just need this hour. We need to let off steam. We need to be together, in a positive atmosphere.

I was considering not going to the gym, or at least not getting a membership; and many of my 'elders' were saying I would be too busy to even think about working out....

And now I say to that -- too busy for maybe a couple of hours a week? Really? Am I taking away from my child letting her spend some quality time with her pops sans momma and her naturally bossy ways?

Too busy to take a very very small chunk of me away from my life's duties and just do something positive and social?

I know there's housework to do, and food to prepare, and laundry to fold and sort (and socks to find), and a baby to tend to, etc. etc. But I can take one hour maybe two in a week to do for me so I can do for everyone and complete everything.

I mean, my friend said it best, one cannot let the first thing she lets go be her exercise!

Indeed!

And since I never get out to see friends, and I am rather isolated in my home, and my friends are equally busy -- why not marry the two: social and physical!

Yippee for group X!

And yippee for my friend for inspiring me to go.

And yippee to my hubby for wanting me to enjoy some time away for myself (although, let's be real, he gets to enjoy the results too, am I right?)! And for agreeing to be e's caretaker for the times I am away!

And mostly, yippee to that woman (presumably) who invented group exercise because it is the best excuse to get out of the house that any woman needs -- !

And the lingering chats after the class has ended?

Priceless.

It's the touchstone I need to get me through another quiet and lonely week at home --

-- Until the next class!

 

ps. Never mind how motivating it is to see the truly fit in the class and think well, if this class did that for them, imagine what it can do for me!!! :-)

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Something appears to be wrong...

with my blog! I don't know what it is -- is anyone else having difficulty staying on my page without being redirected??? I don't know what to do!!

I will be posting tomorrow, but until then, if you have any ideas what is wrong or what I should do, please please help!!

Merci!
SB

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You Anxiously Waited with Baited Breath...

AND!

So far no one has called me to say they were head in the toilet all night.

The house is still standing...Though almost cut it close there!

I am EXHAUSTED -- but -- PROUD!

So, as I said, the day started out...well... I did almost burn the house down when I turned on the wrong burner and burnt through a pot lid (please do not tell j.b.)! Good start. Real good. I thought that that mistake was going to set the tone. But no. I remained composed. I discarded the lid, and hid all evidence. Aired out the house. Everything was golden. I was gonna lick this meal if it killed me!

At eight a.m. I had the beans started and hadn't fudged up the recipe...yet...I even managed to remember to discard the bacon fat!!! (The previous night we'd had spaghetti squash in a meat sauce and I'd forgotten to discard the fat from the pan-fried ground beef before mixing it with the sauce; can we say greasy!?--So much for a low-fat meal!). 

Um. Yah.

So I already felt pretty darn accomplished having disposed of the bacon fat (oh and in the proper spot too--have I ever told you about the time I poured candle wax down the drain at the fancy restaurant where I supervised? Yah. That didn't go over so well, either...)

Again small feats here. Small feats -- they count for everything with me!

And the house was still standing tall. 

I was on a role, people!

Beans were done by ten a.m., just in time for me to realize my mistake with the pork: that is having a roast pork out rather than the scheduled pea meal bacon. Managed to fix that mistake too!

Whew. Still on a role!!!

The dish I was most nervous about was the scalloped potatoes. I know these are easy to fudge up...I was okay with myself if I did. And I did. They were pretty darn soupy...Whoops...They were at least cooked all the way through. Because the only thing worse than soupy scallops are hard, uncooked, soupy potatoes. Now that's an oxymoron if I do say so myself!

My family started to arrive at five p.m. Oh yes -- when it comes to food, even BAD food, they are very punctual.  Being the super-diva-kitcheniista that I am believing myself to be today, I even managed to have time to talk and relax before serving dinner. Now that's a consummate host, wouldn't you say!? I served up a mean Riesling -- remember me mentioning serving Rieslings with ham? I am a girl of my word, people! INDEED! The wine of choice was a nice Canadian Riesling entitled Girl's Night Out. My hubby, comfortable in his manhood, even partook.

We hung out for a requisite forty-five minutes before I laid everything out buffet style. Oh, and how I had set the tone: relaxed and homey! 

(Yay me!).

I busily bustled in the kitchen while everyone settled down and started to tuck into their meals; my ears were peaked, I was slyly and discreetly listening for my hubby's noises...

And?

And!

And he was in LOVE -- with the beans!!! Yippee!!! Score for me! Woo-hoo!!!

Everyone was pretty darn pleased with the entire meal, in fact! No one complained too much about the soupy potatoes and soupy applesauce. Oh yah. I forgot to tell you about that one: I had tried to copy my hubby's perfect, homemade applesauce. Only mine turned into apple soup. MMM. 0h...It.... was...good?! Well. It was something anyhow. My four year old niece did not complain, so I was happy enough with that.

The meal was good enough In fact, that my sister-in-law, who has a very tuned palate --that is, she is um...particular, even asked me about my home-made salad dressing -- and she asked for the beans recipe! O. M. G. 

!!!!

Yup. AND. My aunt also asked if I could make the beans for our Easter meal! Woo Hoo! That's the first request to bring one of MY creations to a family function! I. HAVE. ARRIVED! Although, maybe I was on to something what with the whole unspoken arrangement that has been in place for some ten odd years in which my family happens to never expect anything of me for family functions...

Regardless.

I did a pretty good job. I had surprised the skeptics...(er. and my husband--although I'd say he belongs in the skeptics crowd, too, to be fair).

And no one was sick.

Just to epilogue this -- I am not as stupid as I appear in my tales. Or, rather. I am as stupid as I appear. I do do all these confounding things. And I wonder at myself as I even read along and consider how silly they all sound. One might ask herself, has she never paid attention when her mother cooked? Did her mother never make asparagus? Or, did she not observe the dishes she was serving to the rich and sophisticated at the high-end Rich Person's restaurant? 

Well, the answer is a resounding no. I cared little for food, before meeting my husband. I didn't realize I was eating asparagus flowers, or that they were presented in stalks, not stubs...(by the by --  I think my hubby's horror at this aberration runs deeper than he will admit with regard to this whole castrating of the asparagus -- you?)

There were simply far more interesting things to attend to!

So. I am innocent when it comes to my many Kitchen Confusions. I ALSO maintain that I am an art-eest. As I may have mentioned? And as such, and I am sure you feel the same, rules just do not exist for or apply to me. If you will, I am above them. Or maybe below them. Whatever...Regardless, and again, there were more important fish to fry...

As a self-professed ignorant with regard to all things food, and as someone who enjoys learning from her blunders (is there any other way to learn?), I shall continue to (on most occasions) dive in head first. AND, only AFTER completing dishes that I've thrown my whole self into, heart and soul, will I ACTUALLY LEARN how I was supposed to make them in the first place! 


That is how I do.

Reminds me of the time in high school when my mom asked me whether I would prefer to learn from her mistakes rather than make them on my own...You know, take the easy road. Kind of like following life's recipe, if you will!

And I was like. Nope! I will take the mistakes and live my life full-on any day. You can keep your recipe, thank you! And How!

And there you have it. 

That is me -- In life.

And - in the kitch.

The child-like art-eest. 

Bon App-e-tit!

*p.s. I do apologize that I do not have a Thirsty Thursday this week. I was busy ensuring my house stayed in one piece, and my family was all impressed with me, that I did not have time to sit and think honestly and focus-edly :-) about a wine. j.b. and I have a date night tomorrow night, so expect next week's review to be on  whatever wine I choose then...!

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Yet Another NOT the reason J.B. Picked me....

Let me preface this entry by saying that I am cooking dinner tonight for my aunt, grandma, brother, sister-in-law, other brother, husband, one child and two other babes will be on hand....

Sound like fun?

Well, could be a disaster.

You see, I am not a great cook. Oh I know I know I can pretend...You know, throw together a mean chicken salad (that's not cooking!), or a nice yummy salad (also not cooking)...But I've not been that great a culinary girl. Sometimes I am even bad at making sandwiches!

You want some examples...

Well...

Let me count the ways!

Where to start???

Ummm...Let's see. Oh yes. Let's go here:

When j.b. and I first started 'courting', he had left me in HIS kitchen to prepare the asparagus, while he ran an errand. He was naive and trusting. 

Now, that doesn't sound too difficult does it? No. No. Pretty simple. I mean, I didn't actually have to MAKE anything, just boil up a few sprigs of asparagus. No problem!!! 

j.b. was not worried.

I was not worried.

No problem.

Well, when j.b returned and looked at the finished (and perfect if I did say so myself) vegetable, he looked up at me, trying not to look appalled...(j.b has many wonderful qualities, but patience, especially when it comes to cooking and mistakes--mine at least, is not one of them)...

And so he asks, as innocently as he can manage, what I did to the asparagus. 

Well, I said matter-of-fact-ly, I did what you asked!

And he's all, Um, have you ever cooked asparagus before? 

And I'm like Yah. All the time. And in my head I am wondering what in the who heck could be the issue here! The asparagus looked perfect. Not overdone, not underdone. Perfect.

S, where did the flowers go? And why did you cut the stalks into one inch pieces?

Huh? Wha? I was confused...

Flowers? What are the flowers?

The tops of the asparagus. You know, the part that is edible!!! j.b.'s blood is starting to boil. You know, he never makes a mistake in the kitchen! Truly. Never. So he does not understand what it is like to be me.

For me, every adventure in the kitchen is taken with trepidation. I just know there will be at least ONE mistake. If I haven't forgotten to take the string off the Fillet Mignon, I've forgotten to peel the potatoes before mashing them for the gorgeous mashed potato!

Once, On Valentine's Day, I was working my fourteen hour day at the five star restaurant where I once supervised. Post-shift, I pick up my beautiful Mr. j.b at eleven p.m. I drive him to my house. And I proceed to finish preparing the amazing concoction of a stir-fry that I'd had marinading (in anticipation of tonight's event) for the last three days. 

Hey! I was busy!

I didn't know foods would start to cook themselves and likely go bad if they were left marinading too long!

And so I throw together my carefree, artistic, wonderful stir-fried dish and serve it to my lovely boyfriend at midnight.

Romantic right?

Did I mention I had been on my feet, serving romantic meals and overlooking all things restaurant (which if you've ever worked in one, you know is a mighty stressful balancing act -- one must always be on her toes and prepared for all matter of incidences)!!!?

So I am feeling all proud of myself.

What a good girlfriend am I!

Until I notice j.b. is picking at his dinner. Now, to see j.b., is to know he likes to eat...He has a sweet little belly that tells the tale. To sit at a meal with j.b. is to know he loves almost all food and he is very vocal about what he's eating. There's a problem if you don't hear a guttural 'mmm. oh. yumm. mmm oooh...'...It can almost become obnoxious!

So when I notice he's picking. And he's not making any noises. And he's avoiding eye contact. I realize there's a problem.

You don't like it I say.

No....it's not that.... he pleads...still not looking at me.

Be honest. You don't like it. I am like the black-widow spider, setting him up in a very deadly trap: because if he lies, he's in for big trouble. If he tells the truth, he's in even bigger trouble.

He is still not looking at me...He pushes the food around with his fork...And he asks a question I will come to appreciate as a given before every meal I cook for him: Where did you get the recipe?

I was like, Recipe! Recipe? I. am. an. ar-teest!Only amateurs use recipes! And so we discuss the perils of letting meat marinade too long...I sit there, silently, I am seething on the inside, but poised on the outside, as he patronizingly tells me how to cook a meal! 

Again. I am an AR-TEEST. Culinary rules DO NOT APPLY to me!!!

So I begrudgingly and slowly rise from the table, (feigning patience and understanding), and I take his plate and mine. I walk purposefully into the kitchen, ensuring he is watching my every move.

I take the garbage out. And I throw both plates in. With Conviction.

Oh the statement I was making.

And we proceed to ignore each other for the next hour. Did I mention I had worked all day? And was trying to enjoy a romantic midnight meal?

Oh yeah. I was pissed.

So then j.b. comes around and says -- Um. I'm sorry... But truly, what can he say? What is he to be truly sorry for? Not eating something that would have likely made him severely sick?

I see there is a cake that you baked there. Can we try that? He asks in a meek voice. He is trying...

Okay. This is good. He's giving me a second chance to prove my prowess -- 

Okay, sure, I say, not giving away any emotion.

So I serve up the cakes and we take our first bite -- both of us take huge bites as if trying to make some important statement: he about his confidence in me and me about my own confidence in me...

He chews.

He swallows.

He looks at me forlornly....And he dares -- dares -- dares!!!! to ask: Is this cake supposed to be crunchy?

Now. I will let you presume how the rest of this Valentine's went.

Now you know that my dutiful husband did not marry me for my wonderful culinary expertise. And you might remember that he also did not marry me for my house-making skills. 

And I did not marry him for his patience at my shortcoming(s).

I will leave it to you to guess why he fell madly, deeply, and crazily in love with me...

....

So tonight I am cooking a feast of pea meal bacon, scalloped potatoes, homemade baked barbecued beans, and salad. To nine people. Can we all presume how this might end?

I have already entered the kitchen cautiously. AND I have already made MY ONE mistake: I took out a roast pork NOT the pea meal bacon. So the roast pork is thawed and ready. And the pea meal is not. Hm. But hopefully, I realized this fact early enough to resolve it. Phew. Conflict averted!

Please note:

I have never made any of the aforementioned foods. Though I AM using a recipe...

Everyone arrives at five...

Wish me luck!

Or maybe you should wish them luck...

Though my family does know me. They Know my foibles in the kitchen. They've even been witness to and participants in my many mistakes.

God love them for coming back for more...

And I am sure you appreciate my hubby on a whole new level, too:-)

-- to second, third, fiftieth chances! And to not dying at the hand of me! 

Cheers!

oh. and p.s. this is my kinda girl:



Although I've even messed up Rice Krispie squares.

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Update

Hello peeps! This is a quick little post to update you a bit about what's been going on. Well, as you can see from my little count-down, I have less than four weeks before I have to go back to teaching. I have mixed feelings about this; but mostly I am sad. Very sad. So, I think I've hit a writing wall. I have some thoughts about what's coming, but am unable to sit down and focus at the moment. I apologize. 

Instead, I am putting my focus into spending as much time with e as I can: playing, dancing, laughing, cuddling (when she lets me), watching her sleep. No one tells a woman how hard it will be to undergo the many changes that are inevitable when she has a child. Sigh. 

So I am pooped. I am uninspired. I am bummed. Not too fun to read or write about. I hope you understand. Please do keep checking in, though, as my next ode will be up soon...and it will be funny (if I can tap into that side of my brain again...)!

Until then, happy trails! and enjoy the sunshine!

Oh: and to put a smile on my face, here's a song for anonimo!

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