Tuesday News

I've been reading about the efforts of several authors to chronicle their move to eat A) Food they produce themselves. Or B) Food from

the neighborhood.

I'm pretty granola already, what with the Dr Bronner's soap, composter and the title of Recycling Queen of the neighborhood. But it just seems so crazy to pursue this truly unsustainable lifestyle of trucking vast quantities of goods across the miles so we can have tomatoes (albeit cardboard ones) in the middle of winter.

I long ago gave up eating tomatoes from a store that are available in January. Same for corn from somewhere south of the border in December. Now it even seems that California is too far away. I'm interested in trying Community Supported Agriculture, but I don't think it makes sense for just one person to have 20-40 serving of veggies per week. I guess I could also try canning. See, just this one decision makes a whole new series of decisions necessary.

So for now. I'm going to visit the Farmer's Market once a week on Saturday. Pick up most of my veggies there. I might stock up on meat and keep it in the freezer for the month. There is still the pesky milk and snacks thing to catch up on every week. No matter. I still want to try and reduce the amount of driving I do each week and to get my food from closer rather than further away.

I, however, am most certainly NOT giving up my tea.

What a great weekend

Now that the play is over, and life is slowing back down, I've got some time to do the things I want to do. Like reading the Sunday paper in one sitting (no, really, the kids were sleeping). Wearing my bathrobe till 11:00 am. OK it was noon, but I was too embarrassed to admit it at first. Working in the yard? You betcha. Baking? Uh huh that too. Going to the farmer's market? God yes I am a slut for fun.

I know that no one else would think that was a great weekend, but days that are sunny AND warm out here in the Pacific NW are not all that common. I used to have the attitude that one shouldn't venture out in the rain. One might get wet. I grew up in California and my mother had this rain/getting wet phobia. Don't go out! You'll get WET. Geez I'm pre-shrunk and there is gear to keep you dry. I like to tell everyone I know who isn't a PNW'er to come on out, the weather is fine. If we only went out when it wasn't raining we would never go out.

Anyways, it was a lazy (slept till 6:30) and decadent (home made Potato Gnocchi with Pancetta Sage cream sauce) weekend. I also got a cute card and gift from my darlin childrens. The only thing better would have been if I could have finished knitting the hat I am making to give to the Compassionate Knitting project.

Well as I've been told many times, you can't have everything. I just want to know why not?

Mother's Day gifts

Mother's Day is almost upon us. I'm not sure that it has sunk in with my girls that Sunday is

THE BIG DAY

. It doesn't matter. To me, they have already given me the greatest gift. The gift of myself.

16 plus years ago I was anorexic, bulemic and quite literally struggling to keep myself from losing my mind once and for all. When I got pregnant with my first child, I had an epiphany. I've got one chance to make a healthy baby. I've got to stop trying to kill myself with food and give this baby my all. When she was born I breastfed, and the sheer joy of seeing my body do what it was meant to do was cathartic.

11 months later I was p.g. again and I nursed my oldest until the calorie load was too much. At 13 months she was weaned, but I continued with my one chance for a healthy baby routine throughout the second pregnancy. I breastfed my youngest daughter until she was 15 months old. About that time the epiphany kicked in. I take care of my babies, why don't I take care of myself? I had a few more episodes of binging and purging during this time, but the beast had been rendered somewhat toothless and clawless.

It's amazing what you can do when food is not the center of your life. I found time to do so many other things. The reasons for my eating disorderedness are still there, they just don't loom large enough to make me hurt myself anymore.

My kids did that, for me. They don't know that they saved my life. But they did. That's the best gift anyone could ask for. No macaroni necklaces, plaster handprints and hokey poems can hold a candle to that.

Choking to Death at Work

I did, seriously, almost choke to death at work today. On spit no less. I've had a little head cold, and the drainage from my head combined with a piece of caramel made me cough. And then whatever was in there just blocked my throat. I've had a good coughing fit before. This time when someone asked me if I was OK, I had to shake my head no. I could feel my throat closing down and I suddenly realized what a person suffering with asthma feels like. It's terrifying.

Anyways. After my friends all rushed over looking to Heimlich me, I started sputtering water from all orifices. And I do mean all orifices (thanks to those two giant babies I delivered vaginally and my, ahem, advanced age). The wheezing was getting louder, my throat was feeling more constricted and my chest and face started to tingle. I started thinking that this was not the way I wanted to die. In my office so far away from my girls. About that time the people around me are looking to call 911.

Finally I burped three or four times and coughed up whatever was stuck in there. My throat slowly unwrapped itself from my hyoid bone and the air started to flow. I was beet red, still spluttering water from my nose ears and eyes and thoroughly glad I didn't die.

The first thing I thought of was the looks on the faces of my kids if someone had to call them today and tell them I'd died at work, choking on phlegm and saliva. The next thing I thought of was the look my sweetheart gave me when we made love last Thursday. He just kept smiling and looking into my eyes. It's such an incredible cliche, but life really is too short. I want to have as many lovely looks from my sweetheart and crazy times with my girls as I can.

So, hopefully I'll do something brilliant with these moments I have left.

Sweeping up on Friday

So the parakeet lives, and actually rocks. She sings, poops prodigiously and eats a ton. I think those last two are related.

The fight is receding into the back ground. I still have my radar ratcheted all the way up and looking over my shoulder for future events. Damn I can't read the future. Not even with this amazing, high-powered radar I've cultivated over the years. But that - dear non-existent reader - is a story for another day

The Sweet 16 party makes me sad. No one will return my call. I think it's going to be the skating rink, but I don't like the skating rink so much. Sigh.

Mohs Surgery scar is much less red, less puckery. Its getting better. I'm going to have a cool scar. I can tell everyone I was knifed in a bar fight. I'll have to change my picture soon. Something silly.

SO! last night I found a lump I don't think belongs in my boob. I'm scheduled for a routine mammogram in 2 weeks or so, but jeez, what a head trip. I'm almost 50, in good shape. I'm not liking thinking about losing one or both of the twins. Still it beats the alternative if that's what it comes to.

So many threads, so little time. I feel like a LOST episode. All the backstory and I'm still not sure how I crashlanded alive on the island or why there is a polar bear, or smoke monster or 4 toed statue. I'm thinking to myself....HOW THE HELL DID I GET HERE

52 Pickup with Live Humans

You guys, the imaginary readers I have, you know the game 52 Pickup right? You take a deck of cards and ask a gullible sort if they want to play a card game. You then throw all the cards into the air and let them fall to the floor. Grinning like a maniac, you then say "Pick em up".

The game was so funny when I was a kid. It's gotten a lot less funny as I've gotten older. Mostly because I've seen it before. Imagine my surprise when I found out that, in fact, that is exactly how re-orgs are done at the company I work for. The POWERS THAT BE take the employees in their charge and place them into a pile and then proceed to toss them into the air like a kid with an awesome pile of autumn leaves.

This is madness. It's done without regard to geography, skills or products known. Our systems engineer hasn't been contacted by his new boss. I'm listed as living in Minneapolis....as if.

One of the outcomes of the eventual resolution of my mid-life crisis will be to work at a place that I like doing something I want to do on an almost daily basis.

Happy Sweet 16

I have lovely accomplished children. Exemplary children. Children who turn into spoiled brats at the drop of a hat. That's a little harsh I think. I'm planning a sweet 16 party for my oldest child and it's turning out to be a little more trouble than I had bargained for. Let me just say that rarely have I planned a party for this many people. For my 50th we are heading out as a family for two weeks precisely because I don't plan parties very well. I'm singularly UNgifted in that area. Not at all Martha Stewart.

I'm only mildly suicidal about this. I want this to be a hugely successful event for her because it's her special day. I'm feeling that it almost certainly will not meet her expectations no matter what I do. If someone was actually reading this blog, which I'm sure they aren't, I would ask for suggestions. But this is my little self indulgent corner of the world. The corner I asked for, with no-one peeking over my shoulder suggesting how to do it better.

Shouldn't my Mommy senses be tingling right now. Telling me how to plan the perfect party for peanuts? I'm too tired to know which end is up. Left to me we'd have take and bake pizza with a few of her closest friends. She wants me to rent a movie theater for 40 people. Sigh!

I'm sure it will settle out eventually... More to come.