Saturday morning I was up at 6:00 am and on a mission. I was determined to find a recipe for the perfect soap. I was planning to make the soap as a gift for someone special.
I decided to take a few days off from training and running this weekend. I will get serious next week (I promise :p). So, I joined a studio this week, which offers yoga classes, Pilates, boot camps and more. Next week, I am going to take a few classes and increase my mileage. Hopefully, I can get myself ready for a half marathon in November.
But Saturday was a day for creativity. I began by catching up on some writing projects. I spent a few minutes on Pinterest and found some perfect recipes. One for the soap and also one for some lotion I thought might be fun to try. I checked the ingredients and found I needed rosemary essential oil.
No problem. There is a small rosemary plant out in my garden. I love my little garden…… and it is little. I have two tomato plants and a couple of pepper plants along with my herbs. I clipped some fresh rosemary from my garden to blend my essential oil.
I researched and found two different methods for infusing essential oil. One method required drying the rosemary for a few days, dropping it into a bottle and covering with oil to infuse over time. The second method called for warming fresh rosemary and oil in a crock pot for about 6 hours to infuse. I chose the latter for several reasons. The main reason? I wanted to enjoy the aroma of the oil while it infused.
Mixing the oils together for the lotion was relatively easy, but I was disappointed in the consistency of the lotion. Nonetheless, I now have a lovely jar of rosemary essential oil in my cabinet. It has already been used to sauté a handful of mushrooms which were tossed into a skillet of quinoa for a delicious meal.
But now it is dinner time, and I think I will go out and pick some fresh tomatoes for my salad.
My husband has been in search of a classic older pickup for years. Recently he has become a bit more serious in his search. His criteria is a bit loose. Somewhere in the 1963 to 1972 range, preferably a Chevrolet, but he would consider a Ford.
We had an appointment in San Antonio on Saturday afternoon and while we were there we planned to look at a 1971 lilac pickup. Yes, it was painted lilac, but it was the right price range and the right year model. Then he discovered a 1969 blue Chevy in Waco. The ad for the Waco pickup said, runs good and well it wasn’t purple. So even though Waco is about 100 miles north and slightly East of Austin and San Antonio is approximately 80 miles south and slightly west of Austin, we decided we had time to see both vehicles.
We arrived at the dealer in a small town just outside of Waco a few minutes before it opened. We wandered over to a Walgreens to kill time. As we were passing the dealer we were glancing at the cars on the lot, when my son said, “Hey that Jeep has a bench seat on it.” Literally, someone had welded an actual bench on the back of a Jeep. Hmm, you don’t see that every day.
In Walgreen’s we roamed over to the clearance aisle, past the “as seen on TV aisle” and on to the toy and candy sections. I took a minute to check out all the pens and pencils. I love shopping for new pens and pencils but I managed to resist purchasing anything except an extra-large bag of M&M’s and some birthday and graduation cards!
Back at the car lot, we parked. While my son and husband got out to look at the truck, I waited in the car. I watched a pretty blond “girl” inside the building. She was wearing cut off shorts, a black tank topped with an unbuttoned white shirt. She stepped up to a mirror, gave her boobs an upward push while pulling downward on her tank top. Smiling I watched her fluff her hair and saunter out to the pickup. I’m sure she is very good at her job and knows a lot about cars, but she couldn’t quite get the hood to open and it wouldn’t start…… She wasn’t able to open the passenger door but she did have a beautiful smile. After a few minutes, one of her male associates came to assist but still the pickup didn’t start.
About 30 minutes and more patience than I would have had, my husband and son finally said thank you and stepped away. I asked if they were sure the vehicle had gas and was informed that yes, the plastic tank sitting in the bed of the pickup had plenty of gas. Uh, oh my! We left that pickup behind.
Bluebonnets in Bloom
To get to San Antonio we took Highway 190 over to 281 which is a lined with beautiful Texas wild flowers and is much less congested than Interstate 35. Along the route there is sign after sign proclaiming numerous ranches. We briefly debated what is required to call your home a ranch. Just outside of Kempner, TX a sign proclaimed miniature donkeys for sale. When I commented, “Look, we don’t have one of those!” My husband and son said in unison, “No! And we don’t need one!”
As we passed through Burnet, TX we spotted a sign for a farmer’s market. It was a small market with probably ten vendors, but it looked like it might be worth stopping in. We started browsing the stalls when we noticed the wind was picking up. Just as we stepped in front of the Texas Herb Company and Crafty Threads, a huge gust of wind lifted the canopy and flipped it upside down behind the tables. Handmade soaps and other craft items were scattered all over the ground. Everyone rushed up to help. No one was injured and the table was righted with crafts stacked atop. I was amazed no one was injured by all the flying products and was heartened how quickly everyone rushed to help. Still willing to try shopping, we wandered to the Sage Creek Farms booth where we bought a lovely mahogany rolling pin. It turned out to be a successful stop after all.
When we got to Marble Falls we started searching for somewhere to eat. I spotted a food trailer that looked promising. Lee’s Food Trailer sported ads for a philly sandwich, gyros, catfish dinners and more. It seemed as if I wouldn’t have any trouble finding a non-meat food option.
I had the Falafel gyro, my husband had the beef and lamb gyro. My son had a classic philly sandwich. Lee’s did not disappoint. Everything was delicious! As we drove away completely satiated, my husband proclaimed, you know if you ever wanted to double back there to eat, I would go! High praise indeed.
Somewhere along the backroads of Texas, I discussed my funeral plans. All my nephews should be prepared. I requested they all show up with 1980’s shorts, tanks and sweatbands as I am laid to rest in my running clothes. Seemed fitting to me! I also learned that if you are going to honk at someone, you should always use the Chicago honk or just don’t bother. You should hold the horn down for at least 2 minutes.
We arrived in San Antonio finally, laughing and talking. After our appointment, we checked in on the lilac truck only to find out it was not on the market anymore.
So we have to start over on the pickup search but since it was mother’s day weekend, I was treated to a buffet at India Taj Palace where they have tasty dishes and serve warm from the grill naan bread made after you arrive and carried immediately to your table.
It was a wonderful day of meandering! I look forward to many more days just like it.
Last Saturday I had three things on my “must do” list.
Make homemade ginger ale
Make some peppermint sugar soap bars
Make some French Toast to use up some day old French bread slices
Sounds easy enough. I didn’t have any other obligations or specific plans. Saturday morning I decided to go the resale shop in search of a used crock pot or sauce pan to use for the soap making. I thought I may as well look for a new soap mold since I was out and about anyway. I found a small crockpot at Goodwill and a silicone ice tray at T. J. Maxx that would work great. Score! On the way back to the house we drove passed a Baskin Robbins and it just sounded so good! So yes, I diverted again and it was delicious!
Finally back home, it was 4:00 PM and I was about to start making the ginger ale. Then I got an invitation to go to the theatre and watch the Avengers. Hmm…. What to do?
Okay, so I did hesitate briefly but not long. Avengers won out of course. I organized the supplies and then headed for the shower to get ready for my movie date. I did watch a video on how to make a box out of cardstock on my way to the movies, so I was somewhat productive.
I vowed to finish at least one of my projects when I returned home after the movie. Nope, never happened. By the time we arrived back home, it was after 9:30 PM and my thoughts were filled with mutants. The last thing I wanted to do was stay up late and be creative.
Up at 5:30 AM on Sunday, I started the ginger ale first. Water boiling, ginger root peeled and lemons juiced, I was off to a good start.
While the ginger mixture simmered, I pulled out my soap supplies and added the melt and pour pieces to my new “old” crockpot. I lined up the sugar, essential oils, coconut oil etc. Woohoo! Things were coming together.
Time to start on the French toast. Naturally I decided to try a new recipe. After I beat the eggs and milk together, I stirred in the warm honey. (I had to warm the honey, because it had thickened too much to pour.) The honey clumped as soon as it hit the cold egg and cream mixture. Oops, not what I intended.
As I pondered the best way to handle the honey, I noticed my soap mixture was melted and it was time to start mixing it together to pour into the molds. There was no way I could finish the French toast in time for breakfast and get the soap into molds at the same time. I turned the soap off so I could finish the French toast. I warmed the mixture slightly, beat it with a fork to incorporate the honey and then promptly added chopped, frozen cherry pieces to the mix for flavor. I really should have realized the cold cherries would solidify the honey, but, well I didn’t.
Just in case the toast wasn’t edible, I quickly mixed up some pancakes as well. Breakfast was ready, everyone was up and pancakes disappeared much faster than the toast.
After breakfast, I poured the ginger ale into mason jars and refrigerated for later. After cleaning up and putting everything else away I finally made it back to my soap. Unfortunately, melting the soap base and then allowing it to cool and set made it difficult to reheat and melt. I spent most of the afternoon trying to salvage the soap. I finally got it all mixed, oils added and poured into the molds. The soap didn’t look anything like the picture, but it set well, smelled nice and was pretty when packed in my handmade white box!
The ginger ale was delicious, the toast edible and the soap unexpectedly “soap”. I guess two out of three ain’t bad.
I recently came across a forgotten piece of writing. In February 2008 I was taking several classes and one of my assignments was to discuss the room where I chose to write. Now seven years later, I was curious to see how much if any, my writing and my writing space have evolved.
My 2008 version.
I have created a new space to write for this class. My previous space was in a room at the back of the house. (A place I never visited.) My new space is in the northeast corner of my dining room, where the walls are a soft mocha color and my elephants dance across the shelf of the half wall into the living room. The elephants represent a collection that seems to keep growing, each one with its own memories of where they were collected. Some were gifts; some were finds on vacations or one-day adventures. I love the solidity of elephants.
Just a few of my numerous elephants!Teapot
Beside me sets our dining room table filled with memories from our family gatherings, homework sessions and board game marathons. The table is an old English pub table from the late 1800’s. I guess it isn’t practical for family usage, but it was purchased before our family was born. On the wall above the table, shelves house our collection of Hummel plates. They remind me of Ron’s parents and make me remember all the experiences Ron and his brothers had growing up in Belgrade while their dad was stationed at the US Embassy. The shelves they rest on were a gift from my son and make me think of him and smile. On the bakers rack which sets against the west wall, the top shelves are crowded with cookbooks. The cookbooks are an eclectic combination of home style, vegetarian and bread baking. My daughter and I have been collecting cookbooks for as long as I can remember and we love flipping through them.
The light in my writing space is a mostly from the overhead ceiling fan, but just past the half wall into the living room, the light from the north window shines brightly today. If I let myself I could be very distracted by it’s invitation to step outdoors. I can see the oak trees soaking up the sun and remember the acorns they dump all over the ground in the fall. But back to the room. I am seated at a small secretary desk with numerous cubbies in the back.
When I sit at it I feel strong and capable. I purchased the desk, post divorce with money I earned working many hours of overtime. It is mine, purchased with my own money and picked out by me. I love it! It is great for writing. It holds my laptop perfectly. The dining room is in the center of my home and makes me feel plugged in when I am writing, even if everyone is asleep or out. It is much more comfortable here than trying to stash myself away in a quiet room. I can’t finish describing the room without mentioning the wooden floors, my son and I spent two days installing. What a chore, but what a great feeling when I look down and see how nice they look and remember the two days spent one on one with my son. So, this is the space I have created to write in. I look forward to many hours of relaxing creativity.
My 2015 writing space.
Many of the same items listed above still surround me in my home, but I have moved a desk in front of that north window. I still have the desk I sat at in 2008, but I am using a much larger desk with room for my computer and two large monitors today. Many more memories crowd the spaces in my mind and my elephant family has become prolific. My writing space has not changed dramatically and I am pulled toward the sunshine out the window just the same as before. I still can’t sit in a quiet uninterrupted place and write. My writing is definitely more routine and although my first novel isn’t complete, it is underway. I am curious where you all choose to write. Am I alone in needing to be in the midst of my family activities to be the most creative? I look forward to hearing your thoughts!
I am a true believer in eating as ‘cleanly’ as possible. Everyone has their own definition of what that means. For me, I try to cook whenever I can with basic, fresh ingredients.
I wish I could make fresh, healthy meals every night but I rarely have time during the work week. We are out the door early and return home late. When I do decide to cook on a week night, I try to plan in advance. I want to know exactly what I need to do when I walk through the door.
When I decided I would make “beef” stroganoff veggie style, (the shortcut version) for a Thursday night, I tried to plan ahead. I made sure I had all the ingredients I needed on hand before I went shopping over the weekend. I intended to use “crumbles” (textured vegetable protein), cream of mushroom soup and low-fat yogurt instead of sour cream. Check! All ingredients were on hand.
On Thursday, traffic was reasonably light and we were home by 7:30 PM. I put the water on to boil, pulled the jar of mushrooms from the cabinet and discovered they were shitake, my least favorite kind. No problem, I decided to chop them into tiny pieces to camouflage them. I reached for a can of mushroom soup, only to discover it was golden mushroom which has beef broth in it.
Since I don’t eat beef, that would not work. No problem, I pulled some instant Lipton Beefy Onion from the cabinet. Interestingly enough, a quick internet search revealed Lipton Beefy Onion doesn’t have any beef in it. Thinking I better re-check the pantry for the remaining ingredients, I found my rice milk carton had been emptied, but I did spot the yogurt carton on the top shelf.
While the pasta cooked, I mixed the Lipton soup mix. It was a lot more liquid than I remembered. I started “browning” the crumbles and stirred the mushrooms into the skillet. The recipe called for Worcestershire sauce and black pepper, so I added those to the mix and reached for the yogurt. Strawberry! Hmmm. Well, I didn’t think I could fix this one. By now I started thinking maybe I really wasn’t supposed to make dinner after all. Maybe pizza night wasn’t such a bad idea.
My husband got back in the car and headed to the store for mushroom soup. And since he was going anyway, I asked him to pick up sour cream instead of yogurt. I tossed the cooked noodles into the skillet with the crumbles and seasonings and set it aside to wait until he got back from the store. When he returned he brought sour cream but no cream of mushroom soup. Total miscommunication. He knew I had used the Liptons soup and thought I no longer needed the cream soup.
Well by this time I didn’t think it really mattered. My carefully planned meal was not working out quite the way I anticipated it would. Trying not to toss in the towel and order pizza, I stirred in the sour cream and a little veggie broth and forgot all about the milk.
The final product was surprisingly good. It was not the culinary delight I had intended, but all things considered it wasn’t too bad…..
On the journey to recapture my fitness, I am trying to remind myself to draw on my chi. Chi Running, defines chi (pronounced ‘chee’) as the energy that unites body, mind, and spirit. How awesome is that. If only I could learn to tap into that!
A few years ago, when we traveled to in San Francisco, CA for the Nike Women’s Marathon, my running partner and I purchased stones with Chinese symbols engraved on them. We each chose a symbol that had special meaning for us. We often trade them at the beginning of a race as a symbol of support for each other. We call them our chi.
As fun things often do, they took on a life of their own. On our training runs, if someone just a little faster ran past us, we would challenge ourselves and pick up the pace, shouting “It’s our chi!”
If someone sprinted by much faster, we would look at each other and proclaim, “Not my chi!”
Those little engraved stones have become a symbol of support and companionship, but occasionally even they aren’t enough to push me up a hill.
Years ago, someone told me a secret to running hills. You should visualize a rope at the top of the hill and imagine someone is pulling you forward. It’s a great visualization and can help. But it can’t really pull you. You still have to move your legs and when you haven’t trained; well it isn’t as easy to make it up the hill.
Recently, I was out for a run with my two favorite running partners. It was an easy and pleasant run and things were going well. We were at the start of our training plan, so the run was short and not too aggressive. Near the end of the run, we were faced with a hill. The hill is about a 45 degree incline alongside a busy road. When I looked ahead and saw the hill I said, “I’m going to run to the bottom of the hill and then I’ll walk the actual hill.” I was thinking I was already tired and would not have the energy to run up the hill. Both my companions nodded and headed for the hill determined to beat it.
I realized I had allowed anticipatory failure to keep me from making it up the hill. No it’s not ‘rocket science’ but for me it was an eye opener. I actually got it. If you don’t start, you can’t finish is a real thing. I ran the hill, huffing and puffing the entire way, but I didn’t stop until I reached the top. Even if I had taken a break half way it would have been fine. I wasn’t attempting to set a record, just keep moving until my body said stop instead of my head.
I have a half marathon to run in this weekend and haven’t trained as well as I could have, but I never do. I considered switching to the 10k instead. Then I remembered the hill and changed my mind. I may not finish, but I will start and I will listen to my body not the anticipatory failure in my head.
The sky was dreary and hectic as I attempted to get into the car with my arms full. I shoved my crochet bag into the seat and watched as it tumbled on its side, spilling the contents. While I picked up scattered yarn and shoved everything back into the bag, a nice drizzle began to sprinkle the ground.
As we got under way, I reached for the bag to pull out a skein of yarn and discovered, the yarn I needed was missing! I must have missed it when I picked everything else up.
When we arrived home 12 hours later, I found a rain soaked mass of yarn with the bent needle still attached. We had run over the yarn as we left.
I decided to wash the yarn and see if it could be saved. I found a nylon laundry bag for washing dedicates and dropped the yarn inside. What came out of the dryer …… a tangled mess!
Still hoping I could save the skein, I spread the mass of yarn on the guest bed.
I stared at the tangle of thread and smiled. It reminded me of another web of string I had untangled as a young camp fire girl.
My mother was my Camp Fire leader and a quilter. She had a wooden quilting rack suspended from the ceiling. For a fun activity at one of our meetings she created a web of fun. Twine was looped around the rack and left to hang a few feet off the floor. At the end of each string, she tied a piece of candy or a pack of gum or some other small token. It looked like a multitude of prizes hung from that rack. In reality only 10-15 strands dangled. The strings were then crisscrossed and woven through each other until she had created a web with treats suspended at varying levels across the network of twine.
To my eight year old self, it was a treasure hunt. The idea was to pick a string and work to the prize of choice. It sounds easy now, but with 8-10 girls vying for a position and pulling on strings, it was near impossible to predict which prize dangled from which beginning. I wish I had a picture to show you, but I don’t. There is a lovely picture, but it only exists in my memory. The package of Wrigley’s spearmint gum dangled at the end of my string. At that moment the gum was a treasured prize. This has always been one of my favorite childhood memories. As I sit in the floor and work on my tangle of yarn, my heart is happy.
It took hours and tremendous patience to untangle this mess. I considered stopping and tossing the lot in the recycle bin several times. Now I am glad I persevered!
The untangling is done and I will find something special to create from it. Maybe I will create a new memory that will give someone else a smile.
My Dad is a character. When I think about him from my childhood perspective, I visualize a smile on his face. He has a guitar in his hand and he’s telling a joke. That’s my Dad.
I can still hear him singing an old Perry Como Song. It was my favorite. At the time I knew nothing about Perry Como, this was my Dad’s song.
I got an old slouch hat Got my roll on my shoulder I’m as free as a breeze And do as I please Just to bumming around
Got a million friends I don’t feel any older I’ve got nothing to lose Not even the blues Just to bumming around
Whenever worries start To bothering me I grab my coat, my old slouch hat Hit the trail again
You see, I ain’t got a dime Don’t care where I’m going I’m as free as a breeze And do as I please Just to bumming around
I hit the trail again
You see, I ain’t got a dime Don’t care where I’m going I’m as free as a breeze And do as I please Just to bumming around
Just to bumming around Just to bumming around Just to bumming around
He taught my nephew and my son to play. It doesn’t happen often enough, but the few times they have all played together have been magical.
And what’s funny is my Dad never bummed around. He didn’t even sit down. He always worked at a job that kept him traveling and he loved it. When he was home he worked in our yard. He was the first one to volunteer if anyone else needed a little help.
As he has grown older, he hasn’t traveled as much. For many years he cultivated a garden. He seldom ate the vegetables he tended, but would give them away. Family was first in line, then friends.
He is also a collector. To my Dad everything is a diamond in the rough. That’s a pretty awesome perspective. When my goddaughter first met him, he asked if she wanted the “nickel tour”. Of course she said yes! The “nickel tour” is a meander through his treasures with a humorous story or an anecdote about each piece. She still talks about it today.
Years ago, he built a tractor from miscellaneous parts. Not tractor parts, but just miscellaneous things he had on hand. Yes it worked quite well. He is the reason I think I can do anything if I just try hard enough.
I love you Dad. (or Papa as he is known by most everyone.)
Monday morning found me standing in the shower, the water flowing, deep in thought. I reached for face wash and realized I was about to scrub my face with my toothbrush. Still wearing glasses, a fitness band circling my wrist, I paused. For a moment I wondered if I should consider taking a step back and slow down. Nope! One of my favorite quotes, is “Someday I won’t be able to do this, but today isn’t the day.”
I am a compulsive multi-tasker as my husband, Ron will attest. Every morning, I get to the car with more bags than I should carry.
Many mornings, I shut the car door, buckle the seat-belt and realize my phone, purse, or lunch is missing. I unbuckle, go back inside and backtrack to find the missing item.
When I sit down to view a television program, I gather a novel, a crossword puzzle or a sewing project or two. If I’m working on a writing project at my computer, I will open a class I’m enrolled in or edit a different writing project. Hey, it helps jump start the creative process.
This month, I am actively training for a half-marathon, taking 2 online classes, working 40+ hours a week, crocheting an afghan and working on a quilt. I say actively, because I have many other projects, in various stages. I don’t profess to be proficient at many of the things I tackle, but I enjoy attempting new things.
During a recent day off, I took an online class in calligraphy. When Ron asked why, I smiled and replied, “It was free, and it was fun.”
I don’t sit still well and I love variety. Ron, however, will stop what he is doing to give me his full attention when I talk to him. What a wondrous ability he has to focus.
In my defense, we commute an hour plus each morning and each afternoon. That’s two hours I can write, crochet and brainstorm or anything else I can manage in a car.
The next project will be a weekend of soap making for the girls, at my house. I want to learn the process. Sharing the experience with my daughter, granddaughter and sisters will be a lot of fun. I can’t wait! If anyone has a favorite recipe or special tips, I would love to hear from you.
So am I the crazy one? Probably, but If so I like this kind of crazy!
While much of the country has been dealing with extreme weather, in my area we’ve been more fortunate. Austin, TX residents woke Saturday morning to a mild 64 degrees. It was a perfect day for a long training run. If you have to run long, you may as well run for fun! Bastrop State Park is a short 15 miles from my home. Running in nature while I train is a great distraction.
A fire devastated Bastrop State Park in September 2011 along with many other areas of Bastrop County. The fire destroyed many of the ancient pine trees. It affected 96 percent of the park. The fire was a tragedy, but it has been wonderful watching the rebirth of the park, aided by many volunteer organizations and their members.
Dez, Ron, and myself arrived at the park with two expectations; to complete an 11 mile training run and to enjoy ourselves. We put no constraints on time or speed. Dez and I kept to the trails as much as possible while Ron opted for the park roads.
The trails range from sand, gravel, or packed dirt and is easier on your body than pounding on pavement. The steep inclines and declines work muscles not used in street running and compel careful navigation to prevent falls. The combination is a great workout.
We quickly realized that it was going to be a silly, fun day when we started laughing at everything. We stopped along the way to take pictures, to view the blackened, fallen trees and to enjoy the newly planted baby pines.
Throughout the morning, park guests greeted us and we shared waves and greetings in return. At mile 6 we found a restroom, which had been recently renovated and was sparkling clean. While we were stopped, we visited with Ranger Carpenter and learned a few facts about the park rehabilitation.
We stopped at mile 9.25 to enjoy a bit of solitude at a pond hidden among the trees. I had spent the day in search of the elusive Houston Toad. We were pretty sure we heard one in the distance while we were at the pond.
The park ranger we spoke with encouraged us to find a tree and claim it. He suggested we take our picture with the tree and return annually to document the growth. So we each picked one and began a tradition.
Our final mile tally of 11.5 miles was full of fun. After surviving our trek through nature, we ate lunch and stopped by Austin City Wide Garage Sale. This weekend the sale was being held in Bastop, Texas. After an hour and a half of wandering through the maze of exhibits we were a few dollars poorer and a few items richer, and our energies had been fully expended.
We ended our day with sweets from the Sugar Shack in Bastrop. We each had two scoops of ice cream and I brought home treats for later. It was a lovely day and the best one I’ve had in a while. A special thanks to my cohorts today for helping me make wonderful memories!
Nana's Apron Strings 