Just Can't Knit or Crochet for Some Reason

I haven't picked up knitting needles or a crochet hook in weeks. I don't know what's going on. I'm so unmotivated. I bought the yarn for these socks weeks ago. The yarn was a great deal. The pattern is free. And sock-knitting is unchartered territory for me. But I just can't seem to get motivated.

I have been reading quite a bit though. I finished A Tree Grows in Brooklyn over two weeks ago and meant to write a review. I then read The Shadow Speaker by Nnedi Okorofor-Mbachu. I was enthusiastic to read that book because I recognized the author's Igbo name. It's written for age 12 and up but it was still enjoyable and also the strangest book I have ever read. I'll review it later. I spent the whole.entire.day in the kitchen today and I'm so exhausted.

Not to mention trying with all my might not to go over the grocery budget this month. I can't believe we still have one more week to go. I'm out of tofu. Out of probiotics (which, it seems, I need to be, uh, regular). Out of cashews. Sheesh. And my vital wheat gluten still has not arrived. Time to start sending some strongly worded e-mails.

What Connects Us?

I've been thinking lately. I guess we all know by now that the times are changing and uncertain. It's a good time to just stop. And think.

I was involved in a discussion a couple of days ago and it made me start wondering: What really connects us? By us, I mean Black people.

I think I've come upon an answer. There's really nothing that connects us. The only one thing that tenuously holds us together is our color. And even at that . . . there are so many shades of Black, even Black so light it looks like White.

I thought about various things that could be connectors. Like our history. But we all have different histories. Could it be our interaction/reactions to White oppression and subjugation? We've all experience this quite differently. Could it be that we all come from Africa? Well, so many of us are a combination of so many different backgrounds that we can't strictly say that every Black person is 100% African. It's certainly not language that connects us.

And it's certainly not culture.

Because there is no such thing as "Black culture". And you will find that once you try to postulate about certain aspects of "Black culture," you will most certainly find that some Black people take serious offense at that. For example, I used to freely say that "Black folks love to dance" or "Black people have a intuitive sense of rhythm." Now, I'm learning to be very careful about that because undoubtedly, someone will say (sometimes angrily), and perhaps rightly so, that it's not true of all Black people, that Black people are not one homogeneous blob.

And I never believed that we were. But I always believed there was some thread that held all of us together. That we are all vested in some issues that affect all of us. That there are some values that we all hold true. Some aspects of how each one of us were raised that are the same. Some generalizations we could make about ourselves as Black people and all agree, that yeah, for the most part, it's true. That beyond our color, there are things that grow from our common experience of being second-class citizens, degraded often and abused always. If nothing else, I thought we could at least agree that we all have a knack for survival.

But, I guess, my cynicism has taken over and I just don't believe it anymore. Color actually doesn't connect. I am keenly aware of how I feel excluded from conversations that focus about African-Americans--I don't share much of that history. In my younger days, I used to wonder how could anyone date and marry outside of their race . . . how would they understand each other? And now, it's clear. And I hope my younger sister and young niece are able to let go of the idea that there is actually some kind of real connection between people because they are Black and cast a wide, inclusive net when it comes to who they make friends with and who they partner romantically with.

Of course, if Black people want to connect on the level of their Blackness, it's actually quite easy to do so. Because even if our backgrounds are not exactly the same, there are similarities that are undeniable. Across the board and across the races, human beings are more alike than different. And that one small, obvious similarity (darker skin), I think, could draw us closer and closer. But I wouldn't argue that.

I, for one, don't see the use in fighting the "We all are one" or the "No matter where you come from, You're an African" battle anymore.

Finding Time to Spend Time

Tuesday is the hubby's day off and the one day when, generally, he refuses to do overtime. The hubby works alternate weekends but recently, even on the weekends he's off, he's been picking up an extra shift and sometimes even working doubles. [It's great that DH's job (he's a blood bank tech) offers the flexibility and opportunity to work as much as he wants. It's also a huge blessing that his job is relatively secure. I always think it's comforting to know that both of us have professions that are always needed and so we will always have work. We both also have skills outside of our professions that could theoretically (and in my case, as I've come to learn, very theoretically) keep us afloat if the jobs were no more or if we needed to augment our income (I've been having a heck of a time finding ways to make money that doesn't require me finding childcare). I mean, my main worry in this economic crisis is not necessarily that there will be no work but actually that the dollar you make working will continue to be stretched and stretched and stretched till it can't take it any more!] Anyway, that leaves us (I mean me and him) precious little time just by ourselves. I think it's different for men and women. DH seems to think hanging out with the two Z's as a family is enough and doesn't really place an emphasis on our time. I do. It seems I constantly remind him but, your girl tries damn hard not to nag so I often just let it go. But I highly value our alone time and my own personal time. This is why you find me blogging, reading or knitting at 2:40 in the morning instead of taking my self to bed.

Anyway, tonight I fell asleep while putting the boys down. My alarm clock didn't phase me--I slept right through it (I thought I told it to "snooze" but clearly I turned it off). DH says he tried to wake me but I was out cold and he thought I needed the sleep. I have to say, I was a little peeved. I really do wait in anticipation all day Tuesday in hopes of spending a couple of hours with him. I just wished he would have gotten me up at all costs. I felt so let down! But alas, I don't think he gets that spending time with him when I can is more important than sleep to me. I can sleep tomorrow, or the day after or the day after that--he'll be at work. This is one expectation, it seems, that I'm going to have to let go. It's just not realistic with two small children. (Although, I'll be completely honest, I wonder when I hear about couples married for 25 years and then getting divorced, is this what happened? Did they get so caught up in the kids and making ends meet and all the knitty-gritty of life that they didn't take time out for each other? Didn't make it a priority? Is that why they grew apart? Will that happen to us?)

So, I'm up. Blogging. Alone.

Who knew it could be so hard to find time to spend time?

No Money in the Food Budget for Experimentation

So instead of trying out new recipes (which I love to do), I've been focusing on re-vamping old ones I have and looking for new twists to my staple dishes.

One example is my recipe for oatmeal raisin cookies. I had a basic recipe I was using that I found ages ago. I've now tweaked it so much that I can call it mine! :) And it's so good.

Chi-Chi's Chewy Oatmeal Raisin Cookies
1/2 cup vegan buttery spread
1/2 cup turbinado (raw sugar)
2 tbsp. maple syrup
2 tsp. Ener-G egg replacer mixed with 2 tbsp. water (mix till frothy)
2 tsp. vanilla extract
3/4 cups whole wheat pastry flour
1 tsp. cinnamon
1/2 tsp. nutmeg
1/2 tsp. salt
1 1/2 cups old fashioned oats
1 cup raisins, soaked till plump then drained

Preheat oven to 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Cream vegan butter spread and sugar together till well incorporated. Add maple syrup, egg replacer and vanilla extract and mix well. In a separate bowl, sift together flour, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt. Add dry ingredients to wet. Mix well. Add oats and raisins. Mix well again.

Drop about 2 tablespoonfuls of batter for each cookie onto an oiled or parchment paper lined cookie sheet. Bake for 15 minutes. Let cool on cooling racks. Enjoy!

Makes about one dozen cookies.
-------------------------------------------
I'm really pleased about how well the cookies came out and everyone really seems to love them! They're soft and chewy but still wholesome tasting.

So for the past few weeks, it's been beans, beans, and more beans and I've just be looking for recipes and ways to make them more creative/less boring. So a week ago, we had black bean burritos (which were a *hit*) and which only required that I buy one pack of tortillas (okay, I should have made them--it's not hard but for some reason corn meal seems to be harder to come by these days). Last night I wanted to make chili but I was getting tired of my regular stand-by recipe. I was scouring all my cookbooks and found a good number of chili recipes in Vegan Planet ( previously neglected cookbook) that required ingredients that I already had on hand. I made a really delicious chili. It called for fresh peppers which I didn't have so I used dried red pepper flakes. What made it different was that it called for apple juice and cinnamon which gave it a little twist and therefore made it much more interesting. I felt like it needed some more depth so I added a bit of molasses. It came out well. :)

And then, a few days ago, I made Dreena's chocolate chip cookies (after a brief hiatus from anything but bread baking). They were DIVINE, as usual, and a real treat since I had been shying away from using the (relatively) large amount of (expensive azz) maple syrup.

I ran out of wheat gluten flour. I purchased some on Ebay from an Amish company (it seems) but it's been slow in getting here. Makes me wish I'd purchased from Amazon. So, after putting off baking bread for a few days in hopes it would arrive, I went on ahead and baked the bread sans gluten. I came out with some funny shaped loaves but bread nonetheless. I hope the gluten comes soon though because I have to make some vegan sausages (even though I can't eat them anymore--but the hubby does). :)

Well, the month is almost through and I haven't busted my grocery budget just yet. I will clear $500 this month but my pantry is well-stocked and I think I can expect to really stick to the $120/week budget in November. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. Oh, and hoping somebody gives me $50,000 tomorrow. LoL.

I'se Married Now!

I don't know if ya'll are fans of the movie The Color Purple but I am a *huge* fan and I almost know the entire movie verbatim. There's a scene where Shug Avery sees her daddy driving by in his horse-drawn carriage and runs out of the house excited to let him know that she had finally done right and gotten married. "I'se married now . . . I say, I'se married now" she shouts. But he continues to drive by without even giving her a look. I've always loved that scene. I can identify with Shug's intense desire to "do right" and to win her father's acceptance.

Anyway, Beyonce, who I think is a talented entertainer and who, I will admit, I envy a little because of how fit and in shape she is (trust me, I recognize it's her job to look fabulous but on most days I feel sloppy and overweight so a little envy creeps in from time to time). Anyway, Ms. Knowles has come out with a new single called Single Ladies (Put a Ring on It). Take a look and listen to the lyrics:


Okay, the dancing is so on point. I really don't like the song per se but the dancing? Whoa. But this is not a post on the merits of the video. What I really want to talk about is what she's saying and why watching the video the first time gave me one huge chuckle and also something to think about.

I think we could all agree that in this society and in many societies, girls are socialized to grow up to become wives. Many little girls dream of a beautiful wedding and marrying Prince Charming and living a charmed life. Marriage is something that many girls are taught to work towards and aspire to almost as hard as a career, if not more so. I've heard it said before, "What good is a successful career without someone to share it with?" Women who choose not to get married or who aren't married yet are seen as strange (at best) or deviant (at worst). While the term for an unmarried man (bachelor) connotes fun and a license to just be free, the term for an unmarried woman (spinster) has much different connotations. When we think of a spinster, we think of someone who is sad, alone, and probably has lots of cats. It's someone we pity. Even if the spinster has a thriving career. And is perfectly happy. The default in our world is that a woman can't possibly be happy alone. She needs a man to complete her happiness.

Now, don't get me wrong, I *love* my man and I'm more than happy to have him in my life. But believe it or not, I have learned in my almost 5 years of marriage that if you cannot be happy by yourself then getting married won't magically fix that. If you cannot be at peace alone, in your loneliness, marriage is not the cure. So I admire women who have deliberately chosen to be on their own or if they are still waiting for the right guy to show up have a vivaciousness about them; a certain love of life; a purpose. I admire a single woman who is not just waiting for Mister Right but is living life. That takes strength in the midst of all the messages society throws around about single ladies.

Which brings me back to the Beyonce song. My sister was actually a bit annoyed at Ms. Knowles, who, if you pay attention to any gossip sources or have access to any teenager you would know, got married recently to Mr. Sean Carter, a.k.a. Jay-Z. It seemed that she was showing off in her video, according to my sister. Okay, she is! She's newly married! It's exciting. It's what every girl dreams of. It means so much in this society to "settle down," "do right," and get married. Ms. Knowles has done it all, it would seem. She's a successful entertainer at the top of her game. She's an actress. She owns her own clothing line. The icing on the cake is being married! So I don't blame her for showing off of a little. I've never known a new bride who doesn't show off a little (or a lot). Sometimes new brides will cut off their old friends because "I'se married now!" And while relationships can and will change after you get married, it seems that sometimes new brides get carried away with their "huzzzbands"! And so, this is what made me chuckle. Despite Ms. Knowles super stardom, she really is just like a lot of us.

I know when I got married, a lot of my relationships changed drastically, most significantly the relationship with my parents who were not pleased at all that I had decided to get married. While our relationship before was pretty rocky, it took a turn for the worse when I decided that my man must become my hubby. The turmoil I experienced over the relationship with my parents probably did not give me the chance that most new brides have to gloat and to glow over their new marriage. But it did give me a very practical view of marriage and a clear understanding of what it would take for the marriage to withstand and thrive. So while things were romantic the first year (despite everything) they were always ground in reality with the backdrop of my parental issues always looming.

Anyway . . . I, for one, think it's cute when new brides act the way Ms. Knowles is in her video. Being married can be exciting, fun and can, for a while, feel surreal. But I think that underneath the cuteness can be a meanness ("I'm married and you're not, nah, nah, nah, nah, nah") and also an insecurity ("Thank God I finally got married--I was worried for a minute there!") which, I think, the meanness grows from. I like to think about and explore the deeper societal issues that women face that makes getting married the ultimate test or measure of a woman's success when for men, it does not seem to be that way. On the contrary, for a guy, getting married is often talked about as his demise, a demotion, his acceptance of a ball and chain, the end, evidence that he's "gone soft". It's something that must be done regardless of all that because he knows that a woman (especially a self-assured, smart, otherwise successful, beautiful woman), driven, as it were, by this ultimate goal of marriage, won't stick around too long if it's not offered. That is, in fact, all Beyonce's song is about. I sincerely doubt we'll see Jay-Z brandishing his new, diamond encrusted wedding band.

I don't think the movie The Color Purple did justice to the character of Shug. The novel paints a picture of Shug Avery as a very free spirited, independent, fun loving, sexually liberated character. She thinks for herself and generally doesn't care what others think of her. She's her own woman. And that is her draw. It's what makes her sexy. She's lusted after by men. And hated by women. Despite all that, Ms. Avery still longs for marriage. I've always wondered about that.

To the Farm

Yesterday, I took the boys to Muscoot Farm some 40 minutes upstate. DH was working all day and I was really hesitant at first to make such a long trip by myself (firstly, because I dislike driving and secondly, because I didn't know just how "farmy" this place would be and you know your girl is a city girl through and through). But it was well worth it. Everything about the trip up was beautiful from the wide open stretches of highway where I could cruise at 70 mph, to the beautiful fall foliage that lined the highway and from which you could see rolling hills of trees in all kinds of majestic colors, to the boys' attitudes and behavior during the drive.

When we arrived, I knew we'd have a good time. Muscoot Farm is more like a farm museum than an actual farm so while there are animals and barns and all that, it's more a recreation of what a farm would be like. There was a small farmer's market (I got suckered into buying some beautiful tomatoes, onions and one sweet potato for $12--I kept thinking how much stuff I could have bought at home for that). There was also pumpkin picking which Z1 thoroughly enjoyed. I tried to get Z2 in on the pumpkin picking action but all he wanted to do was eat the grass (and get pissed off when I took it out of his mouth). Z1 picked out a lovely sugar pumpkin that we will roast and eat tomorrow (the hubby's day off). There was a pile of hay with child size rakes and wheelbarrow. Z1 had a blast tossing himself on the hay, raking it, collecting in the wheelbarrow. He got to do one craft at the crafting section (an origami witch's hat), and, of course, got to get up really close to the horses (very friendly horses), geese, ducks, cows, chickens, STINKY pigs (and cute piglets) and goats. The highlight of the whole day to me was the hayride. Oh, we had a great time!!

But I didn't bring the camera. And the camcorder ran out of juice! I can't wait to go back just so we can capture some memories!!

The ride home was equally as pleasant. The boys slept the whole way even through traffic that extended the trip an extra thirty minutes and slept about another thirty minutes more while I sat parked in front of the house.

I think we'll make this a Fall tradition. :)

I'm Reminded Why I Don't Like Doctors

I say it all the time: medical doctors do not know how to heal. They can diagnose. They can treat symptoms. But very few are interested in a cure. The cynical part of me says that there is nothing to be gained monetarily by actually healing. I want to believe that there are some doctors out there who are working because they truly believe they are making a difference. However, after years of practice and never seeing anyone get healed, I would think some doctors would start to question their profession. Healing does not equal "no symptoms" and I'm yet to meet a doctor who understands that. Worse yet, is the arrogance that one may encounter when dealing with doctors. They often get smug in their role as "the professional" and yours as "the patient". You find them dismissing concerns, half-listening, rushing through an appointment all while writing a prescription and scheduling the next appointment.

I want to be clear: I'm talking about allopathic (Western) medicine which I believe *only* has a place when it comes to acute medical emergencies. I believe wholeheartedly that you are better off using some other medical model if you truly want healing for a chronic illness.

Why do I feel this way?
1. I have had allergies all my life despite always being under the care of a doctor.
2. My eyesight continues to get worse despite always being under the care of a doctor.
3. My scalp is still on fire, flaking and scabby despite going to a doctor today.

I want to address #3. So I finally made it to a dermatologist today and I was so excited since by her name, I knew she was Black. I figured it would be great to have a doctor who was familiar with Black skin. Well, what a complete and total disaster and waste of time. The doctor seemed to have some disdain for me from the very beginning. Maybe it's because when I was asked by the receptionist for my social security I said I didn't have one. That seems to be easier than saying "Oh, I don't just give out my SS#" (which I don't because there is no need for a doctor to have it if they know my insurance information). During that whole interaction, the doctor was standing right there although I had no idea she was the doctor. Even if I were to give the #, why would I do so with some stranger standing right there? Anyway, when I went into the examination room, the doctor said "Do you have a social security number?" And I said, "Yes". She then says, "But you don't want to give it?" and I said, "That's correct" and she mumbles "Because every U.S. citizen has a SS# . . . aren't you a U.S. citizen?" At which point I wanted to ask, "Are you a doctor or the INS?"

Anyway, homegirl was not trying to hear what I was saying. She looked at my scalp and decided that I had, wait for it, DANDRUFF (seborrheic dermatitis) and said she couldn't see the flakes because I use shea butter to oil my scalp. She said that I should discontinue use of shea butter on my skin because it clogs the pores. Bullshit. I've been using shea butter on my face for years now without a problem. If I happen to wash my hair and oil it with, lets say, jojoba or coconut oil or not at all, it seems to be a big huge problem (remember, flare-ups start with a feeling of very dry scalp which makes me initially think that I missed a spot when oiling). I tried to explain to her the cycle of hair loss. Tried to explain what a flare-up feels like. She hardly listened. I showed her that there are parts of my body where I had hair before where there is no hair at all right now. Explained that I used to have to shave with some regularity. Explained about the brittle hair that breaks easily (and the thinning locks). She said, "Oh, when I'm walking down the street I see persons who have locks that are all different lengths--their hair can't support the extra weight of the locks." When I said, "Aren't hair and nails made from the same protein? Why are my nails so incredibly strong but I get so much hair on a comb when I comb it?" She said, "Oh, you need a good conditioner and I'd recommend Nexxus products." When I suggested a biopsy, she said, "Oh, that won't be necessary. Here's a prescription for crap pharmaceutical steroidal cream which you should use forever and ever and ever until you die. Fill it, use it and come back to see me in a month." But not before asking how many children I had if I was married and had I gone to college. I had the feeling that she had made some gross assumptions about me before I even sat down and while I'm not a showy person, I felt compelled to let her know that, actually, I had a master's degree. So intense was the condescension.

Hardly productive.

I've already treated myself for seborrheic dermatitis using OTC shampoos and creams. It soothes a flare-up but doesn't keep them from happening. I need to know why it is happening. And since my skin is not greasy anywhere (it's actually changed since having kids and has become quite dry), I'm pretty sure it's not as simple as that. And, according to Medline, diagnosis is based on "the appearance and location of the skin lesions" and since the doctor didn't see any (because I supposedly used shea butter on my skin although the last time I washed I didn't do anything--she didn't bother to find out though), how the heck did she diagnose that? If the doctor is hardly interested in they "why" it's clear that he/she is not interested in the cure.

I need to go to someone else but I have to call the insurance company to see if I can, i.e. how many dermatological visits are allowed annually. I would try a holistic healer or a naturopath but honestly, I've been ripped off before and I'm scared of quacks. So I'm not further in this journey. Tuesday, I'm going to see my family doctor but I'm not hopeful. Unfortunately. I'm also quite tired.

And I really hate having short hair.

Feeling Tearful

Accompanied by my recurrent hair breakage has been some serious scalp issues--a scalp that feels inflamed (but doesn't look it), itches like crazy, flakes and scabs and then leads to accelerated hair loss/thinning. I have been to doctors and all have said that nothing is wrong. I thought that with the last set of locks, I had figured out the key to the scalp issues and felt real joy and confidence. I was washing more frequently with a whole different shampoo (I had been using diluted Dr. Bronner's), had figured out a good oil combination (jojoba and shea butter) and was doing occasional apple cider vinegar rinses (1 part ACV to 4 or 5 parts warm water). This seemed to keep my scalp healthy although my hair was still breaking. Trust me, with the emotional pain of hair that just won't stay on my head, the fact that I was not in physical pain was priceless.

Until a few days ago. The flare-up started as usual. It felt like a dry spot--maybe an area I had forgotten to oil after washing my hair. It snowballed into an all-out fiasco. My scalp is throbbing like someone threw acid on it. The hair is falling out. There are scabs galore. And.it.itches. Like lice or chicken pox. I washed again today in hopes of putting things back in balance. It is so tender that I cannot even imagine putting apple cider on it no matter how diluted. So far, it is at least manageable. I can't wear my silk scarf to bed and I've been going out with my head uncovered (which is a very strange feeling for me).

And I just feel so tearful and upset. How can it be that I am facing such issues with my scalp and hair? At least if my hair must be short, if it insists that it won't grow, is it too much to ask that my scalp be healthy?

Goodness.

I was reading on nappturality.com about not taking no for an answer from the dermatologist and perhaps getting a biopsy of my scalp. I feel desperate now. But I just don't know if I'm willing go that route of getting a biopsy, some diagnosis and the subsequent pharmaceuticals I would have to take.

Chris"thief"er Come-Bust-Us Day

Every year on this day, I wonder why in the world there is a holiday to celebrate Columbus and his exploits. He didn't do anything. Well, it can be argued that he did open up the West to European colonization. European colonization, in my estimation, is hardly cause for celebration. Look at all the suffering the European colonist/settler has left in his wake--near elimination of whole groups of people either by disease or the gun. And the laying of the foundation for the trans-Atlantic slave trade (the holocaust of African people).

You know, it is the gross lies and misinformation that children get in school that is one of the underlying motivating factors for why I would love to homeschool. These lies get glossed over and taught as fact and no one, it seems, is interested in questioning the accepted treatment of important/influential individuals in history textbooks. I, for one, did not learn about the "radical" Malcolm X and Marcus Garvey until I was in college and the information I did learn about Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. never once talked about his more radical turn towards the end of his life. Steve Biko? Kwame Nkrumah? Other Pan-Africanists? No, I never learned about these folks. My history lessons, unfortunately, were always overwhelmingly Eurocentric. Columbus, my friends, sailed the ocean blue in 1492 "discovering" a land that was already inhabited and "proving" that the world was round even though many people already knew that. And for that, we drop everything to celebrate him.

As long as Malcolm X is not celebrated, as long as Ida B. Wells is not celebrated, Booker T. Washington, and the list goes on--as long as these key and influential figures in American history are not celebrated, Columbus Day is something all people of color should actively decry, in my opinion.

Every year on this day, I make sure to play Columbus by Burning Spear.
I an' I all I know
I an' I all I say
I an' I reconsider
I an' I see upfully that:

Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar
Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar, yes Jah

He say 'im that he's the first one
Who discover Jamaica, I an' I say that:
What about the Awarak indians ?
And the few black man who were down here before him ?
The indians could'n hang on a long long
Here comes black man an'oman an' children
A ina Jam Dung run ya
Whole heap a mix up, mix up
Whole heap a ben up, ben up
Ha fi straighten out

Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar
Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar, yes Jah

What a long stay from home
I an' I longing to go home
Within a red, green an' gold robe
Come on, twelve tribe of Israel
Come on, twelve tribe of Israel
A outa Jam Dung land ya
A whole heap a mix up, mix up
A whole heap a ben up, ben up
Come on, twelve tribe of Israel
Come on, twelve tribe of Israel
A outa Jam Dung land ya, yes Jah

Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar
Cristopher Columbus is a damn blasted liar, yes Jah
He's a liar, yes Jah
He's a liar, yes Jah
Columbus he's a liar, yes Jah

I had hoped this post would have been a bit more eloquent to show how passionately I feel about this day but, alas, I'm tired and my brain is over-worked.

My Musical Companion this Morning

So glad that even though I'm not fluent in Igbo, I can understand it pretty well and can enjoy our music. :)

New Idea for a story

I've been writing a story in my head. I've already come up with the plot that is loosely based on my experiences vis-a-vis marrying someone of whom my family disapproved. I will need to do some research though. I would like to read about and speak to Muslim women who converted (reverted) as adults especially those who became devout and decided to embrace hijab (head covering/face covering, etc) and what it was like professionally and in terms of family.

My first children's story is edited down from 9 pages to 5. I originally wanted to try to publish it as a book but in light of the fact that a book similar to mine has already been published (although there are, as my friend pointed out, very big differences in the storytelling). I am going to find some magazines geared towards 8-10 year olds and maybe even older and submit the story there. I'm keeping my fingers crossed for it to be published. That would be a huge boost.

How are you coping spiritually/mentally . . .

In light of this impending economic collapse?

How are you staying balanced and not panicking?
------------------
The hubby and I finally sat down and really looked at our books. Thank God for savings. We are hardly breaking even. Groceries have skyrocketed--I bought 5 lbs of flour for 3.50 last month. The same bag of flour was $4.50 last time I went. I am not kidding. This damn car payment. The mortgage. Incidentals and Accidentals. I'm regretting every purchase I've made over the past few months even though intellectually I know that I'm not a frivolous spender. But maybe I could have waited on that Vitamix (though it is really facilitating the green smoothies and I feel really good inside--better than I have in a long time--the other blender wasn't so bad, was it?). And why didn't I put an end to organic groceries month ago? Boy, the belt has just gotten tighter. Feels like a damn girdle. DH is working madd overtime. I'm looking for a way to bring in some kind of income without going back to work full time (would any one even hire me?).

So, I really need to get back to doing my journaling with discipline. Doing my affirmations. Something to help me stay balanced and not panic.

Was going to blog about pasta and tofu "meat" balls. Maybe tomorrow. I'm tired. And worried.

Did you know

You pay more for gas if you use your debit card and not cash?

Found gas the other day for $3.51/gallon and made sure to ask after I noticed that at the last fill-up, I asked for the lowest grade of gas and paid for supreme. Because I paid with debit. So I asked and it's true: you pay more.

So use cash for gas. Actually, maybe it's a good idea to use cash for more things. I love my debit card because I never felt secure carrying around wads of cash. It's become habitual to use the debit card and not cash. I think many people have grown to like the whole debit card business. Well, the times, they are a-changing. And so will we.

Lesson Learned

Okay, so I really like my car. It's a 2005 Subaru Outback wagon that we bought in 2006 when I went back to work. It had about 10,000 miles on it since it had been the dealership's courtesy car. Well, we bought it before I had actually started working which meant we really couldn't afford it. We didn't put anything down (like lots of Americans have been doing) but we aimed to pay it off in a year or so (which we could have done had I stayed at my job). Neither or us likes toting around debt. But the fact of the matter is, I had to leave my job. Whenever I get despondent about how much the car note is and start to romanticize about my job, DH reminds me just how awful it was. That I developed a serious case of hives. And came home in tears most every day. Still, here we are saddled with an admittedly nice, dependable car but it's expensive. It's not what we would have gotten had we not relied on that job to pay it. Hindsight says that since my DH was working evening shifts anyway, I should have driven his car to work until we had saved enough to buy the car. Surely that would have taken at least 5 months and by that time, I would have known the job was not for me.

The plan of action is to rock this car until the wheels fall off. Literally. I'm at 18K miles so far which is excellent for a car that's three years old. We take good care of it and hopefully it will reciprocate. That way, we get every penny out of it. The next car will be something I can buy straight out or at least put a serious down payment on.

Buying my car was, I think, one of those things you do as a young person. I was fresh out of grad school and starting a new career. I thought I deserved something to show my "status". I don't know about anyone else, but life has a sure way of humbling every time I get a little too big for my britches. Every time. So, I've learned my lesson and I've learned it well. I think many Americans are learning it too although, it seems, people have had to learn from even bigger mistakes than mine. And, it would seem, the consequences of these foolhardy choices are going to make life quite difficult and maybe even unpleasant at times for the the next few years.

Granted, we have no credit card debt. Our debt includes the mortgage on our house, the car and $15K in student loans--these are still loans nonetheless and needing a loan to me says "you cannot afford this just yet--wait". I'm not opposed to loans per se because it's clear that this economy is based on a system of loans and debt but I firmly believe that for me at least, I should have at least 1/2 to 3/4 the cost on anything. That lets me know that I can afford it. Like they did back in the day. Work. Save. Cut costs. Work. Save. Cut costs. My new mantra and, for me and my sanity, the best way.

Living within my means. This is one lesson that I hope to teach to my children through example.

A bust!

I've already spent $400 in groceries this month!! However, these are all things that are not perishable, i.e. things that will last in the freezer of pantry for a few weeks, months and even years. So I've increased the grocery budget to $500. That gives me $100 to play with for fruits and veggies at the local vegetable stand. That goes a long way there. I'd really, really like to at least stay below $500. I've been consistently skipping things that I used to like to get like spring rolls and cream cookies, soy ice cream, etc . . . and I am not trying any new recipes (therefore not buying things that I may or may not use again). I really miss trying new stuff but these times call for discipline and shaving off the fat.

In other news, I went to get Z2's passport picture taken and the guy who took it did it all wrong. So I'm going to another place tomorrow to get it done and we'll apply for the passport while we're out.

DH put up some new mailboxes outside. He did it in about 30 or so minutes. I just *love* that he is so handy. It is comforting to know that if the sh** hit the fan, he has skills that are marketable and useful. This is my single biggest wish for my sons (aside from them living fulfilled and happy lives)--that what they can do and what they know is universally and always relevant.