My savory little summer roll.

It’s been awhile since I blogged.  Nothing interesting to say?  

No, I think perhaps too much.

I feel like I’m trying to fit 5 lives into the time-space continuum of 1.  I am a worker/project manager (oh yeah, whoopee), a writer (well, not so much these days), a wife and stepmom (still hangin’ on to that as hard as I can), a cook (when there is time), and a strongly creative and hormonal girlie-girl with the most amazing family and friends.   They still put up with me, despite my not being able to keep up with everything these days.

I’m sitting right now in the gameroom, blogging whilst my family plays Mario Kart on the Gamecube.  Going from “no work” to “full-time plus” work has been tough.  I can afford a pedicure now, but I don’t have time to schedule one.  What is wrong with this picture?

On the flip side, life is really good.  And I’m amazed by the little things.

Downtown tunnels.  A small, asian food restaurant named Kuai.  Dumplings.  $3.50 for 5 – chicken, pork, or vegetable.  And the best damn summer rolls I have ever had in my life.  Thin, cool rice paper wrapping perfectly cooked chunks of chicken nestled alongside giant happy shrimp lying on a bed of cilantro sprigs, lettuce and cool, slightly starchy vermicelli.

A small dish of peanut dipping sauce.  Truly inspired, and inspiring.  I can make it through the afternoon after one of these rolls.  And you only have access to them if you venture downtown.  Ha!

Oh yeah, it’s the little things.  Just you wait until I tell you about the DART express bus.  Will the wonders never cease?

Day 7

7 should be a lucky number.  But not today.  Today, I hit Day 7 of my new job.

After almost a year off doing fabulous things like writing, cooking, crafting, reading, making cheese and making new friends, I went back to work.  I love my car too much to let it go, so the Financial Gods told me to get a job.  Go ahead!  Lose 40 to 50 hours of personal time a week, plus at least 10 hours of commute time.  Not to mention a few hours of sleep.

Today is Day 7.  Not lucky perhaps, but interesting…

The top 7 interesting revelations of my new world:

1. Downtown Dallas is a cool place, complete with a subterranean alter ego worth exploring.
2. $3.84 is not too much to pay for a comforting drink at Starbucks, especially when you’ve gone back to work after almost a year.
3. Anyone can learn how to ride the DART light rail, but not everyone is meant to do so.  I have learned I’m not a mass transit sort of person, especially in the Texas heat.
4. Downtown Dallas is confusing, especially if you work right in the area where the East-West streets collide with the Northeast-Southwest and vice-versa streets.  The confusion is heightened if your building is symmetrical, and all sides look the same.
5. It is worth paying a few dollars extra to park in a covered lot connected to your skyscraper via the underground tunnels.
6. There is no substitute for comfortable shoes.
7. Meeting new people is fun, but missing the ones you’ve met in the past year sucks.

I miss my writing buddies, time with my friend Deb, walking with my dog, my cooking shows, and making good food every day.  And I haven’t blogged since I started this new trek, but I am vowing to blog now.  This new life is too interesting not to pass on.

As my writing buddy Michele says, “Carpe diem.”  And I’m gonna.  No matter how tired I am.

Random facts about me.

1. We have to post these rules before we give you the facts.

2. Players start with eight random facts/habits about themselves.

3. People who are tagged need to write on their own blog about their eight things and post these rules.

4. At the end of your blog, you need to choose eight people to get tagged and list their names.

Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged, and to read your blog.

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The most random facts about me…

1. I have taken bellydancing lessons.

2. In a previous career as a medical photographer, I took pictures of dead people and even one autopsy.

3. I’m addicted to cooking shows, and tried to start a gourmet foods company with a couple of friends.

4. I drink way too much wine.  Oh, yeah, WAY too much…

5. I’m a perfectionist, so living in this chaotic world makes me the crazy, obsessive person that I am.

6. I like almost all foods, but despise oranges.

7. I went to architecture school for two years.

8. I can make a flower with my tongue. 

I don’t know eight bloggers to tag, so I tag the few I know who haven’t already been tagged AND am reaching out to some new-to-me bloggers.

Scruffybutt (ha ha Candace – tagged you back!)
Fortypaws
Beans and Caviar
A Chicken In Every Granny Cart - a newly discovered fantastic food blog!
Pop Art Diva - this lady is the definition of cool…

There was an old lady…

I saw her in my peripheral vision.  Falling.

Slightly past 7 this morning, I was walking the big black voodoo daddy, a weekday ritual.  It amazes me what some folks wear when they come out in the morning to collect their daily news.  I try not to make eye contact with these almost-awake neighborhood ghosts.  Pretend they are invisible, and allow them to scurry back into their homes, seemingly undetected.

Today, an elderly lady scuffled out, wearing a thin housedress, hair awry.  She saw us.  And we pretended not to see her, as she turned to make her escape.

And then tripped.

I watched, one of those slow motion moments, as she crumpled to the ground, hitting her head.  Then I ran (well, walked as fast as I could) to make sure she was alright, Big Daddy following in my wake.

There was no blood, but she was shaken.  As I helped her up, I noticed her skin felt like damp newspaper, thin and cool, but soft.  Her grey-black hair leapt from a white scalp, not completely covering it.

And I realized, that one day, this may be me.  It may be any of us.  And I was glad I was there for her.

I was afraid to leave her after I helped her to her feet, knowing that age and frailty makes one fragile.  Bones can break, concussions can happen, people can die.  But she said she wasn’t alone, and she was probably afraid of this stranger with an oversized, over-happy black dog coming into her home.  I don’t blame her.

I wonder if she has lived a good life.  And when I get to that point, will I feel that I have done the same.

On Slow Food

“…1,500 of the 7,000 varieties of fruit that we have in Italy will disappear over the next four to five years…   in today’s world a mere thirty plants meet 95% of food needs, and this is an extremely serious matter:  it means that the level of genetic erosion is very high and is progressing…   every six hours another plant disappears.”

-Carmine Nardone, member of the Agriculture Commission of the Italian Parliament

These unimaginable facts support the first of three goals of the Slow Food movement:  Defense of Biodiversity.  Supporters of the movement seek to promote the enjoyment of excellent food and drink while at the same time saving traditional grains, fruits, vegetables, animal breeds and other food products that are disappearing, thanks to big agribusiness and convenience foods.

Who doesn’t want excellent food and drink?  Especially if you can save a disappearing plant at the same time.

Formed in Italy in 1986 as Arcigola, the forerunner to the international Slow Food movement, their manifesto was signed in 1989.  One notable quote from that important document:

“We are enslaved by speed and have all succumbed to the same insidious virus: ‘Fast Life’, which disrupts our habits, pervades the privacy of our homes and forces us to eat ‘Fast Foods’.”

(A McDonald’s had just opened their orange and yellow doors in Rome’s famous Piazza di Spagna.)

It goes on to say “…our defense should begin at the table with ‘Slow Food’.“

In addition to defense of biodiversity, this movement has two other primary missions.

The First: Spreading taste education by helping people rediscover the joys of eating and teaching them to understand and care about where their foods came from and how they were made. 

The Second: Linking producers and co-producers through events both locally and internationally, where consumers can also be connected with high quality, artisanal products to which they would not normally have access.

Some Slow Food trivia:  Did you know that ‘wild rice’ isn’t actually a rice?

It’s the seed of an aquatic grass, Zizania aquatica.  It grows wild (wow, imagine that!) along lakesides and rivers in Minnesota, Wisconsin, and parts of Canada.  True wild rice is grown naturally, harvested by canoe-paddling Native Americans, and then hand-parched over a wood fire. 

Sounds very different from the wild rice I buy, which is machine-cultivated, machine-harvested, and machine-parched, then sold in machine-sealed plastic bags in my local American grocery store.

I found out about Slow Food quite by accident.  Research for an infant gourmet foods company led me to Slow Food Dallas, the local convivium in my area.  Then, I saw an episode of Todd English’s public television series, Food Trip with Todd English.  The show traveled across Italy, visiting local food producers who still did things the ‘Slow Food’ way.  (P.S. ladies, Todd English is cute and he cooks.)

I plan to support the movement, but I have to confess it will take time for me to understand how to move more slowly and spend more money on better food.  Maybe a twelve step program is in order.

My Happy Trails Scorecard

• Days at Ranch:  7
• Family Members Attending:  22
• Horseback Rides:  3  (Jon and the girls rode 6.)
• Number of Times Wrangler was Forced to Push my Butt to get me on the Saddle:  0!  (I was positively graceful.)
• Best Horses’s Name:  “Wingnut, the Widow Maker”
• Family Kickball Games:  1
• Combo Massage-Facials:  1  (Oh yeah, it’s a rough life at the dude ranch.)
• Books Read:  4
• Jigsaw Puzzles Completed:  3
• New York Times Crosswords Completed:  1
• Naps Taken:  3
• Full Breakfasts:  6
• Strips of Bacon:  23!
• Pounds Gained:  5.5
• Fun Had:  Immeasurable

We keep talking about doing something different, like taking a family cruise or meeting at someone’s house.  But I’ll bet we end up back at the ranch, despite the fact that there is not a Starbuck’s and thus no ready fix for my dad’s quad iced venti cafe americano addiction. 

If anyone wants to open a local coffee shop, Bandera is the place to do it.  My family alone for a week could keep you in business.

Hey, Dude!

It’s the first week of June, and in my house that means only one thing.

It’s time to go to the ranch!

My grandparents started the tradition over twenty years ago with a short family reunion at the Circle R Dude Ranch in Bandera, TX.  There were eight adults and six kids back then, and, at about age 11, I had my first crush on a horse.  I plucked hairs from his mane for a keepsake, and my first car bore his name.  Jinx.

A few years later, the tradition became annual with a week-long stay at the Lazy Hills Guest Ranch in Ingram, Texas.  It was the first of over twenty which saw our family expand like a good Catholic family should.  Kids grew up, became adults, had their own kids, and experienced the ranch through new eyes.  At its largest, there were about 35 of us.  And we only missed one summer, a summer filled with too many graduations and new babies.

Unlike our family, the ranch changed some, but not much, during those years. 

The family that owned it grew older, as did the kids who came every summer to work there.  The facilities fell into disrepair and were fixed.  Sort of.  And the once thick gathering of oak trees became thin as a blight attacked and killed them one by one.

But the cabins didn’t change at all.  Same rustic furniture and loud window air conditioning units.  Same blue denim bedspreads with the Lazy Hills monogram.  And always the same film of dust scattered on the terracotta tiled floors.

And what we did stayed the same year after year.  Ate, napped, did puzzles, visited, ate some more, rode horses, read, played games, and finally, ate once again.  What a life.

A few years back, my Grandparents passed on.  First Papa with his calm smile and knack for making the best fried potatoes in this world.  Then Grandmutter, the true matriarch of the family.  The ranch planted a tree, dedicated to them, in front of their cabin.  Number 5.  We held a ceremony and let balloons float lazily toward the heavens.

And then, two years ago, Lazy Hills closed itself to guests.

The tradition could have died with them, but it didn’t.  My parents, aunts, and uncles picked up the torch.  Bless them.  We now have a new ranch, the Flying L.  Its positively swanky compared to Lazy Hills (and thankfully much cleaner), but perhaps not as authentic.

So next week, it’s off to the dude ranch!  My stepdaughters can’t wait, and neither can I.  I just hope I’m able to haul my butt up on a horse without too much embarrassment.  Ride ‘em cowgirl!

My Obsession with Italy

I obsess about Italy.  I get a bit loopy when I read about it.  Or watch a movie set there.  Or flip through recipes in La Cucina Italiana.  A stack of old issues sitting on my desk floats in my peripheral vision, begging me to trek to the places hiding between their covers.

I travelled to Italy once.  A whirlwind 2 week trip in 1995 from Milan to Bergamo to Venice to Florence to Pisa to Rome to Pompeii and finally to Amalfi.  Each place amazed me.  Each charmed in its own way.  I want to go back and spend months in each, becoming a local, and absorbing everything Italian.  Then I want to add to my list of destinations: Sicily, Puglia, the Cinqua Terre, Genoa, the Lake District, Abruzzi, and all the small towns scattered between.  That is my dream.

Of course my husband, stepdaughters, dog, four cats and two best friends must accompany me.  I dream big.

For now, I read and write about my obsession while Big Daddy (dog) chews on my Groucho glasses.  And Q-Tip (cat #4) steps lightly from sewing machine to filing cart to desk, scattering her long white hairs along the way.

Ciao!

What have you been doing for 9 months?

August 18th, 2006.  My last day working in a high stress, technology management job.  One day, I had it; I knew the time had come.  And I know many can relate.

Luckily, unlike most, I was actually able to quit.  My crazy, wonderful husband supported me 110%.  And due to the Great Tax Day Blaze of 2005, wherein we lost many belongings thanks to a neurotic hairdryer, we had savings from our insurance settlement.  Just enough to cover unpaid time for me to do all the things I wanted but couldn’t while dwelling in the stress of my job.  Woo-hoo!

I planned to do them all.  Write a book!  Make cheese!  Start a gourmet food company with some friends!  Invent things!  Create things!  Read like a crazy woman!  Organize every nook and cranny of my home!

That was over 9 months ago.  Wow.  Anyone else thinking about how time flies?

I did make cheese.  Home-made ricotta.  It’s actually pretty easy!  And very good.  Check out the book that supplied the techniques and the recipe.

Also, check out Leeners, a great company for supplies, whether you are making beer, wine, cheese, or bubble gum. 

I did write a novel.  It’s true!  I’m a NaNoWriMo winner!  Thanks to my writing teach (read her blog at http://planetpooks.wordpress.com), I found out about the National Novel Writing Month’s annual November contest challenging you to write a 50,000 word novel in one month.  You’re supposed to turn off your inner editor, and just let the words fly!  I knew midway through the month that my story was disjointed and crappy, but I plugged on.  I wondered how people working 40 to 60 hours a week could succeed.  It was fun and a bit painful, but I managed to meet the word count.

I worked on a gourmet food startup company with my good friends Deb and Beck.  We are on hold for now.  But one day, we will be the next Ben and Jerry.  And Jerry.

There are also many things I didn’t do.  One I regret, but only a little.  I didn’t organize a damn thing.  Nope.  Kitchen cabinets still a mess.  Girls’ rooms still filled with clothes that no longer fit.  Garage overflowing with too many gardening tools.

Instead, I drove my bee-yoo-tiful stepdaughters to school every Monday morning and picked them up at dismissal each Monday afternoon.  No after school care for them!  (At least not on Mondays.)  I made lovely meals for my family without having to start them after a harrying day at work.  I ran errands during the week without the normal weekend hordes.  And I cleaned my own toilets.  Yup – talk about bringing one down to earth.

I have new perspective now.  Even though I am now in the market looking for work, I will never go back to a job that stresses me every day and keeps me awake every night.

We all know that life is too short.

What would you do if you had 9 months with only your dreams to chase?

I am a blogger.

A week has passed since I created this blog.  My first. 

During that time, I carefully considered what to write for that critical first post.  Surely it had to be profound, right? 

During that time, I also questioned whether I am a blogger.  Or not.  I decided time will tell.

So, you may ask.  Why did I decide to do this?  Peer pressure from my writing class?  (They all have great and interesting blogs.)  A misconception that people will want to read what I have to say?

Nope.  (Well peer pressure may have a little to do with it…)  I will blog because I want to learn to write.  To be more observant of what is around me.  To use that information as seeds that will grow into my writing.  Someone, some day, will be glad I started this blog.  It will detail my journey.

If you subscribe to this, forgive me for wasting your time.  And thanks for listening.