Ella Fitzgerald Reigns Supreme

Yesterday was Ella Fitzgerald's birthday.  I can't express how much I love Ms. Fitzgerald's music.  Her style.  Her voice.  Her artistry.  She was just such a treasure and really set the standard high for what music should be.


Just One of those Things


Mr. Paganini


Goody Goody


Stone Cold Dead in the Market (my kids love this one)


A Tisket, A Tisket (my kids really, really love this one too)

Ella's music is masterful.  I listen to it and it picks up my spirit.  You can tell that she really loved music and loved to sing . . .


I like good music too Ella!  Thank you so much!

Being a Mom versus Being You

I was inspired to write this post after reading this entry over at Navelgazing Bajan's blog.  Truth be told, I kind of find it annoying . . . the sentiment that being a merely a stay-at-home mom/homemaker might be enough for some women.  (But really, it's not enough, hence the term Mommy+).   I totally understand the need to be something, do something outside of being a mother but I like what Navelgazing said in this post: 

If there’s anything I learned from being unemployed, it’s that I like to be the primary determinant of where I spend my time. So, over the next year I’d like to find a way to earn a steady paycheck while spending my time in ways I find fulfilling, and that includes being my son’s primary caregiver.

This has been my focus, I realize, since the moment I found out I was pregnant and I have not yet found a way to do it.  Being a stay-at-home mom, while not my total ideal, seems to be what works best right now and I enjoy it and would be hard-pressed to change it.  [(And in my real life, I don't know any (voluntary) stay-at-home moms where this is not the case.)]  It's not that I don't miss adult conversations and being asked my opinion.  It's not that I don't miss interacting outside of the home.  It's not that I don't miss my freedom.  It's not that simple.  

But I'm not interested in arguing about that.  I completely understand the underlying sentiment: you were a person before you had children.  After children, it feels like mothering becomes your primary identifier no matter how vibrant a life you had before them.  The feeling is even more pronounced if you've chosen to be a stay-at-home mom because then you have to make a seriously concerted effort to maintain that part of you that was and always will be (albeit changed in some fundamental ways).  For some women, it is impossible and being a mother really does take over and sometimes becomes a choking kind of prison that they must find an escape from.  Hopefully, they find a safe and acceptable escape and/or regular break from mothering.  Other mothers find ways to cope and find a kind of balance somehow (usually by developing or becoming part of a supportive network--supportive of whatever it is that's a big part of her life be it web design or knitting or mothering itself) or finding work that's fulfilling both as a mother and as a human being.  

Personally, I recognize how important it is to maintain a sense of myself and not become consumed with mothering.  It is important so that I don't grow resentful and so that I don't lose myself because, let's face it, children grow up and move out and what is left is . . . you. But here's the complex part: getting married and having children at a young age didn't give me the opportunity to really get to know myself.  And learning who you are, who you aren't, what you like and what you hate in the midst of being a wife and a mother is tricky and frustrating to say the least.

I work hard to keep on doing the things I used to enjoy doing before children but it's surprising when I realize I don't enjoy those things as much as I did (or thought I did).  Actually, I realize I don't enjoy doing them in my current situation (i.e. with young children).  I used to love to read but I find it kind of infuriating having to stop every 5 minutes to referee a fight.  I sometimes feel like I'm just waiting for them to grow up so I can do me again.  And yes, I've found new interests (such as weight lifting and meditation) but I have limited time (and energy) to focus on and develop those interests.  And truth be told, sometimes these new "interests" start to feel like chores given my constraints.  The question that keeps haunting me is, "Who were you before kids?" and the answer that comes back is, "I don't know" or "Nobody".  It leaves me with a lost kind of, grappling feeling.  Like trying to recover something you never even had.  I kind of envy women who can list all those things that they were and now, as mothers, are not.  At least, I reason, they have some kind of direction as to where they are trying to go or get back to.

That's just being real.  

Some folks might say, "Just go back to work full-time--you won't have time to focus on this stuff and you'll have a daily purpose and rhythm" and sometimes I think that would be a good solution.  It wouldn't fix anything fundamentally but at least we'd have more money [and theoretically maybe, I could plug up the emotional/spiritual holes with cool stuff like an IPad and a smart phone].  But I can honestly say that making more money means spending more money (I've got a long list of things in addition to the IPad and smart phone that I would buy if I had the money) and I can see how I could end up right back at this point but with a whole lot of extra stress [from an outside-the-home job] and stuff.  

Sometimes, I swear, it feels like such a luxury, such an untenable goal to live life on one's own terms.  But I am finding the determination to live all aspects of my life: mothering, crafting, writing, etc . . . just that way.  

Examining My Relationship with Food

The first person I heard talk of having a relationship with a thing was Suze Orman.  She says that our relationship with our money speaks volumes about our mental/spiritual health. Other people have echoed the same sentiment when it comes to food.  Perceiving how I deal with money or food as a relationship makes a great deal of sense to me on a very basic level and I see how my mental/spiritual health directly relates.

Photo Credit

If you've been following this blog for any amount of time, you know that I lost 40+ pounds on Weight Watchers.  It wasn't particularly hard for me to do it.  I've watched more than one person really struggle on the program, feeling constricted and like a failure for not being able to follow the plan.  I never say that Weight Watchers can work for everyone because there's one big aspect of my personality that WW fed right into: my need for control.

Oh, I like control.  I long since recognized that I couldn't control anyone else.  As a child I remembered feeling like that because of the relationship I had with my parents (and witnessing their relationship with each other).  And so I developed into a woman who is very disciplined, very orderly and very in control of herself.  I love folders and other organizational devices.  I imagine my mind as one big filing cabinet.  The biggest criticism I receive from those close to me is that I am regimented.  I find it hard to deviate from the course I have set for myself and I experience great disappointment and sadness (bordering on depression) if I "let myself go".  In short, I never let myself go with the flow.  I make the flow (damn it).  

This tendency carries over to how I deal with food and why I think I was so successful on Weight Watchers.  I have no problem--even enjoy--tracking a week's worth of what I am going to eat.  Planning everything that goes into my mouth.  And sticking with the plan.  I derive deep satisfaction from sticking with the plan.  If I successfully stick with it, I feel elation.  If I don't, I feel like I have let myself down.  I don't feel bad about eating "bad foods".  I feel bad about not following my plan.   

So what's wrong?  What's the problem?  Every one wants to be more disciplined and have more will power and stick to their plans.  I'm at my goal weight.  Healthy.  What have you.  But I feel like eating should be intuitive.  You should eat when hungry.  Stop when full.  I eat when I should.  And stop when I eat how much I had planned to eat to meet my daily points target.  To top it off, I usually shut down when I eat.  I avoid paying attention to my food usually by reading.  I tell myself that I'm reading while I eat because it's the only time I really get to do it.  This is true in part but it's not a good enough excuse.  I also eat quickly.  Even when I try to eat slowly, I find myself eating fast as if I just want to get it over with already.  And I have always had a rocky relationship with food.  I am a picky eater.  One of the pickiest adults I know.  I don't like trying new things and now there's the added component of avoiding foods because I have no idea what the points values are for those foods.  My relationship with food is one of rigidity and control.  It's not pleasant.  It's not enjoyable.

There is only one point in my life (post-puberty) that I can pinpoint where I really relished eating and that was during my first year of marriage.  The hubby and I ate a lot.  Big breakfasts.  Big lunches (think double decker veggie burgers).  Big dinners (lots and lots of pasta).  I put on 10 lbs. in my first year of marriage but I did not care . . . didn't even notice.  I was just having fun.  

But like many things in life, that fun didn't last and now eating has turned into a serious affair.  No lightheartedness.  No spontaneity.  I don't bake anymore because I can't "afford" the points.  And when I do bake, I think of each cookie, muffin, slice of cake in terms of points and my plan.  

It's all deeply and painfully intertwined with my quest to find out what I have been eating that's been making me feel so badly.  I haven't quite placed a finger on it but as of late, so much of the time I don't want to eat (even though I may need to) because I don't want to feel worse.  (For what it's worth, I've come to the conclusion that my gut is damaged from years of eating things that didn't agree with me namely soy and other beans/legumes and wheat.  I am not eating those things now and following a regimen of slippery elm, probiotics and prune juice--and I hate prune juice.)

So maybe I should quit Weight Watchers but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me panic to think of not tracking.  I *really* wanted to quit when they overhauled the old program (because, of course, as a person who likes control, I am not comfortable with change).  But I didn't have the balls to do it. 

I've read books such a Geneen Roth's book but usually the target audience is people who overeat; who can't control how much they eat or control themselves around food or who are really strict with themselves and then fail and feel terrible.   I don't think of foods as good or bad.  I don't feel guilt at having eaten a whole bag of chips.  I'm more concerned about whether I have enough points to eat that food or not and will chide myself more so about the points than the food.  I don't know how to explain it really . . . there's a serious disconnect between the food I eat and me.  It's just one more thing for me to meticulously control.  I've read books about mindfulness in eating and all that. But honestly, my relationship with food is a manifestation of my mind state and so beyond reading books, I'm steadily searching for a practice that allows me to get grounded and centered.  On a deep level, I know that there needs to be some fasting-- complete separation from food for a while so that I can gain some clarity about why my relationship with food is the way it is.  Once I finish NROL4W, I probably will.  Nothing major.  Just a day here and there.  And I will try not to track during that time.

Anyway, doing Weight Watchers and achieving my weight loss goals has really been a great opportunity catalyst for examining my relationship with food.  

Happy Thrifting!

For me, thrifting can be addictive and can get costly.  I reason that I'm saving money (and I am) but I need to really save money, that is not spend money.  So I made an agreement with myself to avoid the thrift store for three months, basically until mid to end of April.  I'm happy I kept my word to myself.

Yesterday, though, I ventured into the thrift store.  I only spent about $11.00 but I felt really happy about my purchases.  My main reason for going to the thrift store was to find a bag.  I needed something with lots of pockets and compartments.  It needed to a shoulder bag (when we go into the city, I usually carry Z2's stroller on one shoulder and my book-bag really makes it difficult).  I was disappointed when I couldn't find a shoulder bag but thrilled when at the last minute, I found the Skip Hop messenger style diaper bag and it only cost $3.99 although it retails for $80.  It's in excellent condition too.  Perfect.

 Box of Knitting Patterns, Crochet Book, pull out Dora the Explorer book--$3.00

 Cute tote/reusable bag perfect for carrying stuff for my crochet class--$1.00

 Wool Sweater--$2.00

So, a pretty good haul, I'd say.  And I won't be back at the thrift store for some time.  :)

Stove-Top Coffee

A few months ago, the hubby and I started having coffee together a couple of times a week. We stick to Ethiopian coffees.  We were introduced to it by our friends who lived in Ethiopia for some time.  I was re-introduced to it by my good friend who I went to visit last August.  Her husband is Ethiopian and they enjoy it pretty regularly.  

Before having Ethiopian coffee, I always thought I did not like coffee. Loved the smell. The taste?  Not so much.  But I like Ethiopian coffee.  It has a mellow and even flavor.   I still don't like it enough to drink it everyday plus I am an avowed tea lover.  But I really enjoy having it with the hubby. 

Photo Credit

Anyway, my dad gave me a coffee maker and I was making the coffee in there for a few months until I broke the decanter while washing it.  Well, when I went to find the replacement I realized it would cost almost as much as a new coffee maker!  We don't drink coffee enough to justify actually buying a coffee maker and I did not feel like going through the effort of asking on Freecycle.

My friends who'd lived in Ethiopia made their coffee on the stovetop.  Heck, folks have been drinking coffee for centuries without coffee makers.  So I decided to figure it out and lo, and behold, it's not hard at all.  

First I boil some water and steep the coffee grounds in a 1 tablespoon coffee grounds to 1 cup fresh water ratio for about 5 minutes.  I strain it (using the filter that fit in the coffee maker) into a pot.  I bring the coffee to almost boiling and then pour it into a Thermos so it will stay hot until we're ready for it.  It's pretty effortless and I think I prefer the way the coffee tastes when I brew it this way.  

I'm glad to re-claim some of my precious counter space and I'm actually pretty pleased at how easy it is to make coffee without an appliance.  I feel like I did after I lost the paddle for my bread-maker and figured out how to make bread using my stand mixer.  Liberated, in a way.  

La Biblioteca

If you know me,  you know I love my library and I have loved the library since I was a girl.  Also, I have been especially fortunate to have always lived within walking distance of the library.  

In the last year, our town's library has threatened to close down twice.  Each time, I have gotten really worried and sad that such a wonderful resource should be facing closure.  Surely monies could be allocated in a different kind of way to make sure that something as important as the town's library (for goodness sake) remains open.  To me, it really spoke to the priorities of the people who live in my town.  When I decided to be more compassionate and understanding, it really spoke to me about what the people who live in this town are focused on instead: survival.  This economy has ravaged folks and my town is no exception.  It is split down the middle by the proverbial train tracks.  On the south side you will find projects, gang activity and all the other accoutrements of the ghetto.  On the north side, it might as well be a different town:  beautiful houses and well-to-do families. The south side folks are focused on eating and, well, staying alive.  The north side folks are, it seems, trying to make sure to have as little to do with the south side folks as possible.  In fact, they often call the north side a totally different name just to make as much distance as possible.  There's a commuter train close to that side and it's actually closer to walk to the neighboring town's library if you live on the north side.  The town's three best schools are also only available to you as a town's person if you live on the north side.  And so the town's library, which is (sadly) situated on the south side, suffers.  

Photo Credit

I, however, have been faithful to the library through it all.  I hold it dear.  Even if I can't get material that I need there, I can always do an interlibrary loan and there is no charge (and some town's libraries do charge for a hold).  I don't know: to me a library is invaluable.  Information or access to information is priceless.  I have been doing all I reasonably can to let the folks who run the library and run this town know that at least one family would take a serious hit should the library close.

I've often thought that one good way to breathe life and vitality into the library is through children's programs.  Parents (generally speaking) will bring their kids to a program they know their kids will enjoy.  Every Tuesday we go to a play/story time program.  They instituted this Tuesday program specifically for parents and their children since the Wednesday and Thursday programs had become overrun with daycare children.  The librarian who usually runs the program on Tuesday is a little odd.  I mean, he doesn't like to make eye contact with the adults but he puts on a pretty decent program for the children.  I really like that he puts some thought into picking the books he will read and the kids seem to enjoy it, I guess.  But he loses their attention because, truth be told, dude is boring.   The librarian who runs the Wednesday and Thursday storytime, however, is just more alive.  He gets out the CD player and puts on music the kids like and really engages with them and with the adults.  His book choices, though . . . yesterday he read a Maisy lift-the-flap book.  And I had to remind him that Hop on Pop is hell of long.  I was underwhelmed.  

So I'm not totally thrilled with the quality of the programs at our library and I actually make it to the story time a few towns over once a week so that my boys get a really good story time hour.  I wonder if it's chicken before the egg though:  are the programs not high quality because the town's people don't care or do the town's people not care because the programs are not high quality?  I can't be sure.  But I'll continue to go and show my support because even if it's not great, it's what we've got and it could be a foundation for something better.    

P.S.  Thank you Mama T for reading my blog and letting me know you did.  You inspired me today.  :)  

Z1 learns the Piano

Music is very important to me.  I really love and appreciate all kinds of music and have always had a strong desire to make music either using an instrument or my voice.  I've played the recorder, saxophone, violin and piano.  The piano, though, has always been my true love and I sincerely wish that I had gone further in my studies.  

Because I love music, it's one thing that I knew I would have to share with my kids so we listen to lots and lots of it.  One day it could be all Ella Fitzgerald and next day we're listening to Burning Spear and then the day after that it's Yo-Yo Ma.  But I also really want them to play music.  Now, I know you can't force these things on children but I determined that I was going to do my best to expose them to all different kinds of musical instruments to see if they naturally took to any one.

Photo Credit: http://www.mysterytrax.com/Bio.htm

Well, we started Z1 with violin at a church a few towns over.  These are low cost classes with about 8 or 9 other children in the class.  The boy does not like the violin at all.  I think he finds it difficult to physically play the instrument.  May be will take a liking to it later on.  Currently, though, it's not his cup of tea.

So on the recommendation of some homeschooling friends we know, we started him in private piano lessons.  They are not cheap but he really, really loves it.  I don't have to cajole him to practice or go to his lesson and he likes his teacher.  I like her too.  She is funny and charismatic and just brings piano playing to life.  I'm very pleased with her style and how much Z1 is learning.  

We don't, however, have a piano.  We have a small keyboard on which Z1 practices.  I'd like to get a real piano soon but we really don't have a place to put it unless we move some things around.  We'd have to get rid of the television cabinet (which houses the television, VCR, DVD player, receiver and Roku).  I'm thinking we could put the piano there and get a small flat screen television to mount on the wall.  The other electronics could easily fit in a small cabinet that I'm sure we could find at the thrift store.   I'm fairly certain it would be easy to get a piano for a decent price just from taking a quick survey on Craig's List.  We would have to pay someone to move it and probably would need to get it tuned.  I'm excited about the prospect of having a piano in the house not only for Z1 but for myself.  I would love the opportunity to get better at playing.  

Funnily enough, Z1 learning a new instrument has reminded me about how much I have always wanted to play the bass guitar.  Sometimes I listen to certain songs over and over just for the bass lines:

and

With all the books, DVDs, and YouTube videos available coupled with my good foundation in music, I know that I could probably teach myself.  So I'm on the lookout for a bass guitar and an amplifier.  

Something has happened over the last few months to a year:  I've lost my passion for a lot of things.  Things that at one point I couldn't imagine not being passionate about.  Writing.  Knitting. Crochet.  Reading.  Cooking.  Baking.  Almost everything, it seems like.  I often feel like I am just going through the motions and not much excites me.  Even though almost every morning I'm reading about being mindful and present.  There are a lot of reasons for this--mostly deeply personal so I won't go into them here--but the thought of getting a piano and a bass guitar finally made something move inside me and I am hoping that this will re-trigger my other passions.    

Anyway, I am glad Z1 is on an instrument that he likes.  It means that I don't have to be all "Tiger Mom" on him about practicing and being diligent in his study.  

It's been a while . . .

I didn't realize I hadn't blogged in a month.  I've been really busy with my boys and life in general.  Also, I've really been suffering with digestive issues. Really suffering.  I cannot place a finger on what it is that makes me feel bad.  I have taken things out and put things back in.  Sometimes I feel better.  Other times I feel worse.

For the past week, I've been feeling much better but I don't want to get too excited.  I am eating a minimal amount of grains: some rye bread here and there (really just to finish the loaf I have at home and then no more of that), a small bowl of millet or oatmeal (once the oatmeal is done, I'm nixing that too).  No beans. (This is a definite:  no matter how the beans are prepared-soaked, fermented, whatever, my body does not know what to do with them.  Two tablespoons of lentil curry the other night had me gripping my stomach in serious distress--heck, even grain fed turkey is a problem for me). Very small amount of nuts and no peanuts (peanuts are legumes also and cause havoc in my system).  I'm keeping up with my probiotics and cod liver oil too with more consistency.  I feel good but I am tentative.  I know that it could slip back into feeling very bad, very soon.  Sadly, I almost expect it.

On Monday, I'm going to another gastroenterologist to see if I can schedule an endoscopy. I have very little faith in the medical establishment, all of who swear that my diet is ideal and "very healthy" even though it has been making me very sick.  But I'm going to do the endoscopy just fulfill all righteousness and say that I've done everything "medically prudent" to get better.  

Currently, I'm looking into the Paleolithic diet.  It's a bit overhwelming because it such a drastic departure from what I'm used to eating. Even more drastic than becoming vegan.  But honestly, I need to do what I need to do to feel consistently good.  I'm tired of feeling tired and sick.  I have no illusion like I did when I started eating a vegan diet:  I don't expect the Paleo diet to magically make my allergies go away, my vision improve, my hair grow in thick, my skin glow and become blemish-free.  But maybe.  Can't hurt to try. I'm moving gradually toward it.  Acquiring some cookbooks.  Reading as much as I can.  Trying to overcome the mental resistance to change.  And trying to be brave enough and generate enough energy to do it by myself (it would be so much easier if the hubby were doing it too--I am literally cooking twice as much these day: one meal for my family and one meal for me).  

Anyway, I just finished reading a very good book called Olive Kitteridge. Looking forward to reviewing it in a later post.  

3x3 Twisted Rib Gaiter

I really do no like scarves. A neck gaiter, basically a continuos cylinder of fabric that you slip over your head and onto your neck, works much better for me.  I can pull it up over  my head like a hood or pull it up over my mouth or nose for extra cold protection.

I had this red (itchy) wool yarn hanging around for the longest time.  I have no idea where I got it from or the brand.  I only know it's wool.  It was not a lot of yarn so I had a hard time figuring out what to use it for.  It was, however, just enough to make a nice sized gaiter. I love how this yarn has flecks of orange in it and it leant itself well to the 3x3 rib pattern. A quick and easy knit with great results. I am going to treat it with some hair conditioner to make it softer/less itchy (hopefully it works). I can't wait to wear it.

 

Link to the Pattern

Link to my project on Ravelry

I'm currently knitting one for the hubby with the most beautiful, softest angora yarn that we got from Smiley's a couple of years back.  I don't know when I'll be done with that one but hopefully it'll before before winter is over.  :p

The Hubby and I got Matching Tattoos

To celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary/Valentine's Day.  It's my first but the hubby had a few already.

Mine is on my right ankle.  The hubby's is on his inner left forearm.  It is the Adinkra symbol Me Waro Wo:

ME WARE WO 

"I shall marry you "

symbol of commitment, perseverance

From the expression "No one rushes into the job of mixing the concrete for building the house of marriage."

See Cloth As Metaphor by G.F. Kojo Arthur, pp. 89, 163.

 Adinkra Symbols of West Africa

It was painful but not so painful that I wouldn't go ahead and get the rest of the tattoos I want.  In fact, I'm thinking of repeating the pattern all around my leg to form a cuff.  I probably will do that but just this one alone cost $50 and it would need to be repeated about 4 more times I think.

I almost got my piercings too but it was busy at the shop yesterday.   It turned out to be just as well since I'm always wearing hats right now.  The friction between the hat and the brand new piercings would surely have been a painful affair.  So I'll just wait until the summer.

Escaping the Scarcity Mentality

The mentality of scarcity is something that creeps up on me.  I try to cultivate this feeling of abundance by being really grateful for all it is I have.  But I think in these difficult economic times, where all the reports keep repeating how bad it is and how much worse it's getting, it's easy to slip into a mode of thinking that says that there couldn't possibly be enough or there won't be enough.

Photo Credit

I started thinking really deeply about this the other day because of two things.  Firstly, my knife.  You know I feel like a good, sharp knife is perhaps the most important tool in the kitchen.  Yet, I am always hesitant to sharpen my knife.  The other day I really took a moment to think about why.  I realized that deep inside, I don't want to sharpen it because I'm trying to prolong the life of it since it was such an expensive knife (by my standards).  Now, there's nothing wrong with trying to get the most out of something especially when you've paid good money for it.  Except if you are depriving yourself of enjoying that very thing, it kind of defeats the purpose.

Secondly, my running gloves.  These too were also a pretty big chunk of change for me.  The fact of the matter is that they are very good gloves under my wool mittens because they have a wind-breaking hood and actually keep my hands moderately warm so I can do things like unlock the door or strap my children into car seats.  But I found myself making the decision not to wear them, again, to prolong their life.  So I find myself with frosty fingers (my hands are always cold) wondering why I don't just always wear the dang running gloves.  

I figured out that the underlying thought process is that should the knife go dull or the gloves fray or get a hole, I won't be able to replace them.  That kind of thinking only increases my chances that this will indeed be the case.  So I'm actively looking for ways and working on methods to let go of this fear, to live in in the present and enjoy what I have now to the fullest.  

Does the scarcity mentality ever creep up on you?  How do you put it to rest?  

Am I too old for that?

I'm 29 years old which is relatively young, I think.  Yet, I feel old.  And most of the time people will add 5-10 years to my actual age and be quite surprised when I tell them how old I really am.  I don't think it's that I look particularly old (although I do have gray hair already).  I think it's more so my energy and approach to things.  

To a large extent, I have always felt much older than my true age.  This is due to two things: my personality and birth order.  In terms of my personality, I am naturally serious and focused.  One of my biggest challenges with having my own children is being able to relax and play--to do activities that don't have a particular goal or aim except fun.  Not being able to just have fun will make you feel old and age you.  In terms of my birth order, I'm the eldest of three children and growing up, my parents expected me to be more responsible and to help out with my little sister and brother.  Again, I felt there was very little room for me to be playful and silly and so my natural inclination to be "grown up" was reinforced.  

The other day, I was at the thrift store and I spotted the cutest little pink earflap hat with a big, old pom-pom at the top.  I really wanted to get it but I told myself I was too old to wear something so silly and childish.  Luckily, by the time I convinced myself that I wasn't too old and went back to get it, it was still there (for the handsome price of $1.00).   I bought it, fixed a little of the crochet edgings that had come lose, washed it and then tried it on. I'll admit, I felt kind of silly but I still really like it.  So whatever, I wear it.  And it gives me a "youth" jolt.  

Photo Credit

For the longest time, I have wanted to cut my hair into a mohawk.  I knew it would look good on me and would complement my face but the same tape about being too old kept playing back in my head.  On Sunday, I just decided to do it.  I'm having all kinds of anxious thoughts about how it will be received at work and in general but . . . I just need to give it a try.  I need to liberate myself from this idea of being too old for things.  I'm only 29 for goodness sake.  And you are only as old as you think you are.

I'm never one to jump on that bandwagon of bashing women in their 40s and 50s who are "trying to look young".  I mean, I guess there are clothes and makeup that are not appropriate for everyone but who are we to dictate what someone is "too old" for?  I can't stand all these boxes we try to force people to fit into based on their sex, gender, age, race, religion, etc.  

And I can't stand that mentally, I've been putting myself in a box.  I'm really making an effort to break out and not limit myself based on some useless idea of being too old.  I mean, there are good reasons to understand and appreciate one's age.  You don't want to keep repeating the mistakes of your youth.  You want to grow in wisdom and understanding.  You don't want to stagnate at some juvenile mental age. But at the same time, you don't want to stagnate at some older age and become a person who can't change, who won't take risks, who won't experiment because you're "too old for that."  

Again, it comes back to the whole challenge of finding balance.  And it is a daily, moment-by-moment exercise. 

Sushi making!

The first time I tried sushi was maybe a year ago.  I don't know . . . I'm picky and it didn't seem like something I would like.  But at my sister's encouragement, I gave it a try and it turns out, I just love sushi.  Now granted, I've only been brave enough to try vegetable sushi rolls but maybe one day I will branch out.  Right now, the vegetable ones are all I need.

Some local markets around here have sushi chefs who make fresh sushi (with brown rice) daily.  It's really delicious but at $7 a tray (8 rolls), it's kind of expensive.  In Chinatown, all the way downtown, you can get really, really good freshly made sushi for $3 a tray (6 rolls) but they use white rice exclusively.  Since it's not something we have often, I do get it if we're down there but it's way too far to go for regularly.  

So, I thought I'd give it a try at home.  Trying to do it freeform was kind of a disaster so I purchased the Sushezi.  I've only used it once but it didn't come out as well as I'd hoped.  I didn't realize I had to do something to the rice (aside from boil it) and I certainly didn't get the hang of rolling them on the first try.  They tasted all right . . . the fact of the matter is we like nori, we like carrots, we like cucumbers and we like rice all on their own merits.  However which way they come together, we'll probably like the combination.  

Anyway, I'll probably give it another shot this coming Saturday.  I'm going to use this recipe and let you know how it turns out.  

Whose side would you take?

Many houses on the street I live on do not have driveways.  So even though we reside on this block, we have to contend with others for street parking.  This is especially difficult because we are just one block from the commuter train station and many people park here and go to work (instead of paying to park in the lot). Also, we are just one block from the library, the post office and a municipal building (the one that handles social services).  It can sometimes be a real fight to get a parking space especially on Monday and Tuesday when alternate side of the street parking is in effect.  And most especially now when there are 4 and 5 foot high piles of snow stacked everywhere.

The other day when it snowed, the hubby and almost all our neighbors were out there shoveling walkways and digging their cars out of the snow. There was a real camaraderie. Most people when they moved their cars to drive out started putting safety cones, garbage cans, bins, anything really, to hold their space.   I felt funny about doing it initially but I really had no choice.  There is no parking and I could end up having to park blocks and blocks away if I didn't make sure to put a place holder.  So I've been doing it too and it's been a tremendous help.  I'm usually bringing in groceries or other goods or juggling my kids and their stuff.  The weather has been terrible and it just makes it so much easier that I don't have to park as far as a bus ride away.  

People have been respecting the place holders and that has been a great relief to me, I have to say.  People have understood our struggle and have honored the fact that we live on this block and dug it out.  Up until yesterday.

We had a playdate and we were supposed to go to my friend's house.  The roads were still pretty bad so the hubby was to take my Subaru to work.  I thought we wouldn't be able to have the playdate but then I realized she could just park in my space.  She'd be gone long before the hubby came home.  Great plan and I was relieved that we'd have some company.

Almost immediately after the hubby left, my niece calls me to say that someone was in my spot.  I didn't worry because I figured it was my friend's Honda Odyssey.  I looked out the window and it was an Infinity coupe that didn't belong to anyone who lived on this block.  The owner had moved my place holder.  The only reason he chose my space was because, unlike my neighbors, I only placed one safety cone. My neighbors had 2 or 3 large garbage cans or bins to hold their space. 

I looked around to see if maybe it was just someone who'd come to drop something off but there was no one around.  I got upset.  It would have been okay if I didn't have my friend coming because I was sure the person would be gone at least by 6 (because either they went to the city on the commuter train, to the library, to the post office or to the social services building--all of which closed by 6) so my husband would have a place to park my car when he got home at least.  But right then, I was kind of stuck as my friend was on her way.  

I wrote a note.  A polite but strongly worded note about being considerate of the fact that we put so much work into clearing the snow and putting the marker in and that we live on this block.  I taped it to his car with far more tape than was necessary and even put a piece of tape on his car door handle and side view mirror (I was frustrated).  I still had my friend come and we parked her car in the space next to mine, moving my neighbor's place markers.  I left a note in my friend's car with my number so that if my neighbor came home, we'd cut the playdate short and she'd move the car.  (Yes, we'd have to cut the playdate short--there is NO parking.)   

The owner of the Infinity came back about an hour or so into the playdate.  He took the note I left on his car, tore into about 8 pieces and stuck it in various places all over my friend's car.  About an hour after that, he called me to yell at me telling me that it's illegal to put place markers on a public street (yes, he actually took the time to take down my number so that he could call me to tell me about myself).  When I went to help my friend to the car, I realized that he had come back and taken my place marker (a safety cone) and one of my neighbor's placer markers (his garbage can).  I guess he thought my neighbor's placer marker was mine also.   

This experience really made an impression on me and the way people are these days.  I couldn't believe that he went through such lengths over a note left by someone who clearly frustrated at having their spot "stolen".  I can understand that maybe there was an emergency or he was late for an appointment and really desperately needed parking.  I can't understand how this person couldn't understand the desperation we face to the point that we have to pull our car out of the space, get out and put a place marker so we don't lose the spot.  We don't do this under normal circumstances.  I thought he would have called me and explained that he was in a difficult situation and just needed to park quickly and he was sorry for the inconvenience.  I realize, though, that what I would do is not what others would do and I can't expect others to behave the way I would.  I also am coming to the realization that many people these days are really, really self-centered and refuse to think about other folks situation.  My friend's car is a mini-van.  The Infinity owner thought it was mine.  It's feasible that I had four or five kids I would have had to juggle out the car and get into the house--and he took one of the very few spaces available.  (((sigh)))

I know we had no lawful claim to the space.  But this is not about the law or justice to me.  It's about compassion and thinking of others.  

I'm really tired of fighting for street parking.  It's difficult to get the kids to the car safely.  On alternate side of the street parking days, I can't go anywhere in the morning before 12.  Some days I come home and there is just no parking for whatever reason and only a handful of the cars belong to people who live here.  There's the issue of snow.  And my town does not enforce the two-hour parking signs that are up (another town further north handles this by issuing "Resident" stickers to people who live there so they are exempt from the two-hour rule).  

We have space on our property for a driveway.  Once spring comes, I'm going to really have to look into what we need to do to get it put in.  I'm sure we have to get some permits and file paperwork and all that.  That's the hardest part.  Then we have to find someone to do the work and given our history contractors (we're currently being sued by a sub-contractor who put in our new roof who was hired by the contractor we signed the contract with), that will probably be pretty difficult too.  And then there's the cost.  

So what do you think about the situation?  Whose side would you have been on?  The Infinity owner's or mine?  

To Kick the Winter Blues

I needed to focus on something else beside snow.  So I started a fitness blog.  I'm really excited about it for two reasons.  First, I love to write about my fitness journey.  Secondly, I really hate cluttering up this blog with fitness (essentially making it a fitness blog).  I already have a whole bunch of ideas about what I want to write and do with the blog.  And it's an excellent outlet for me and something wonderful to focus on. So if you are interested, it's called The Daily Strive.