Two Out of Three Ain’t Bad!

Last Saturday I had three things on my “must do” list.

  1. Make homemade ginger ale
  2. Make some peppermint sugar soap bars
  3. 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!20150503_094337

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.20150503_055437

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. 20150503_081842 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!

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The ginger ale was delicious, the toast edible and the soap unexpectedly “soap”.  I guess two out of three ain’t bad.

Stop and Smell the Tomatoes

I joined a new running group last week. I am very excited to have a group and planned training run each week.  Last Sunday we ran 6 miles and it was one of the most enjoyable runs I have had in a while.

I woke up Monday with a scratchy throat.  Mold pollen was off the charts in Austin, TX that day, so I assumed it was allergies.  By Tuesday, I was running on fumes and my throat was extremely uncomfortable.  I felt like I had a beach ball in my throat!

Beachball!
Beachball!

My day was filled with meetings, so I sat through them, waiting not so patiently until I could head home.  Once I got home, my throat was on fire and I could hardly swallow.  My temperature was low grade, about 99 Tuesday night but was gone by morning.  I went to work, but after a couple of hours decided to run to the doctor, get some meds and be back within the hour.

No such luck.  One look at my throat he said, you not only have strep but you also have a peritonsillar abscess.  A fancy name for an abscessed area near the tonsil, which can swell and impede the throat opening and make it difficult to swallow.  My primary care doctor sent me straight to an ENT (Ear, Nose and Throat)

I couldn’t return to work.  I had to go back to the doctor daily for a few days to ensure the swelling was going down and I was forced to relax and stay indoors away from people for a few days.  I finished a book I received for Christmas.  I dusted my bedroom and sat in the floor to go through clothing to discard.

Saturday morning, I wandered into my garden to discover my first summer pepper and a couple of ripening tomatoes hiding at the base of the plant.

Tomatoes
Tomatoes
Pepper!
Pepper!

 

 

 

Then I sat on the deck, and enjoyed the occasional drops of rain that fell from the overhanging trees, freshly bathed with an early morning shower.  I made notes for my novel and worked through some sticky plot points.

On the Deck
On the Deck

Saturday morning, after three days of relative inactivity, I was desperate for a diversion.  I made a quick trip to the garden center for plants to refresh my hanging baskets.  I filled one with lavender and the other with jalapeno pepper plants. I was tired.

So I brewed a cup of espresso with steamed vanilla cream for a lovely vanilla latte.  And now I think I may just follow the example of my feline companion and take a nap!

Naptime
Naptime

Sometimes being forced to stop and smell the tomatoes can be a very good thing.

Comfort Food…..

Everyone has a favorite go to restaurant, dessert or meal that makes you say ahhhh……

I have a variety depending on the situation, time of day or activity I am doing.  After a run, I like breakfast.  I normally run early in the morning, so that’s easy to find.   There are several favorites that serve breakfast.  I have a hard time only picking one.

When we travel, we almost always treat ourselves to a DQ blizzard.  That’s a tasty helping of soft-serve ice cream with blended mix ins, usually candy, nuts, or sundae toppings for those of you who don’t have a Dairy Queen nearby.

But when I am having a really stressful day at work, I go for Garden Enchilada’s from Magnolia Cafe on Lake Austin Blvd in Austin Texas.  I work about ½ mile from the restaurant, but anyone who has ever visited Magnolia Cafe knows it is always busy.  I rarely try to make it because I don’t have enough time to wait.  The sign in the front window proclaims “Sorry, We’re Open” and the lines to eat can be long.

Last week, I called my husband to lament a very stressful, meeting filled day and said I need to step away from the office for lunch.  His response was how about enchiladas?  I assumed he meant spinach enchiladas at La Feria, another favorite restaurant, but when he picked me up he said, “Garden Enchiladas?”

Sometimes he can melt my heart!  We drove the short distance to the restaurant, found a car backing out of a parking spot and swooped in to grab it.

So far so good!   When you get to the front entrance, you can go to the right or to the left.  There are two sections and you have to step outside to go between the two.  They are joined by the kitchen.  We stepped to the right, but didn’t see any tables available.  As we stepped into the left side, the first booth was available.  Hurray!  No waiting!  I did actually look at the menu as a courtesy since the waitress took time to bring it, but no change.  Garden enchiladas, please!

Garden Enchiladas
Garden Enchiladas

Garden enchiladas are corn tortillas filled with steamed spinach, roasted red bell peppers, onions ,and jack cheese.  They are topped with a lemon sour cream sauce, verde salsa, and chopped pecans.  Yes, my mouth is watering as I type!  Since I only get them a few times a year, I never get tired of them.  They are served with rice and black beans, also delicious but the enchiladas steal the show.

I’m not sure why munching on these yummy veggie filled corn tortillas melts stress for me, but it does.  I went back to work and started fresh.  I’m sure everyone at work really appreciated my relaxing lunch date.

My Night Watchman

Lovely and timely words on a difficult topic.

Katrina Wightman's avatarKatrinaWightman.com

I didn’t know much about police officers growing up. I lived in a small town with a sheriff’s department which we good-naturedly called Barney Fife. After having been married to my husband, an almost 10 year veteran of the police force, and having represented abused and neglected children I know more. I know police have received a great deal of bad press lately. Some of it justified and some not. When it occurs I often see all police officers lumped together.  Like any profession there are “bad apples” and people who make poor choices.

Open, honest, and rational discussions about these incidents is important.  As is seeking change by the numerous legal methods provided for in the founding of our government, including peaceful protests.  We must remember there are human beings on both sides of the issues and there are other humans affected by the conflict. We must remember that…

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The Space I Write In…..

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!
Just a few of my numerous elephants!
Teapot
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.

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20150415_191039When 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!

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The Best Laid Plans……

to paraphrase Robert Burns.

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.  2015-04-05 17.23.16

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…..2015-04-05 17.24.21

Zooma Half Marathon 2015

Saturday morning Mar 29, 2015, the much awaited/dreaded race day.    Up at 4:20 AM, we needed to arrive at the Cedar Creek high school parking lot before 6:00 AM.  The shuttle buses would start running at that time to transport runners and spectators to the Hyatt Regency Lost Pines Resort and Spa for the Zooma Texas 2015.  We were out the door by 5:10 AM and on our way.  We arrived at the parking lot by 5:55 AM and scrambled to make sure we had our watches, gels and sunscreen before boarding the bus.

The temperature was mild at 55 degrees with a light breeze.  By the time we arrived at the Resort, I was grateful to be wearing my jacket as the temperature dipped to 47 degrees.  The resort is beautifully nestled in a wilderness setting.  The run is not ‘a walk in the park’.  It is peppered with multiple hills from slight rises to steep grades.  If you plan to run this race, you should train on hills.

Mile 9!
Mile 9!

We arrived at the resort and moved inside where staff opened the door and welcomed us.  Inside additional staff were stationed throughout the building offering smiles, greetings and directions as needed.

For runners who are used to port-a-potties at the start of a race, it was quite a treat to have indoor, clean and warm restroom facilities.  It was wonderfully relaxing to sip a cup of complimentary coffee seated on a comfortable chair and visit with fellow runners.  In the lobby, I met Shonda and Lisa from Houston, TX where we joked, laughed and discussed race strategy.

As we lined up at the starting line there were a couple of llama’s on the sidelines to send us on the way.

The Llamas
The Llamas

Once on the course, runners were full of smiles and waves.  As I turned onto Highway 71, a school bus full of kids passed by.  With the windows down, they were all shouting ‘Run Forrest Run’! I smiled for several miles remembering their enthusiasm.

 

 

The last couple of miles were on the resort property, along a relatively flat only slightly rolling path on the golf course.  Mile 13 was marked by the resident longhorns lounging in the grass.

The golf course
The golf course

Ron 406

This is the third time I have run Zooma at the Lost Pines Resort.  It has not disappointed yet.  If you can forget about those hills for a minute, the scenery is lovely.  The run starts in the parking lot and continues to Pope Bend which is a county road.   The road is lined with wildflowers including Bluebonnets, Indian paintbrushes and natural grasses.  There is a short leg of the course that takes you down the shoulder of Highway 71, but it’s relatively short and downhill.

The temperature and winds both rose as I neared the finish line.  The wind, although gusting at times, was a relief from the 70+ degree temperatures.

Bluebonnets in Bloom
Bluebonnets in Bloom

The Zooma race mission is to inspire women to live healthy, happy, & active lives.  The post-race celebrations included vendors, live music, food, and massages.  Sponsor Barefoot wines provided post-race samples and complimentary coffee was also available.

The race field the inaugural year 2009 was over 1200 women.  This year the event included a 5K and a 10K in addition to the half marathon.  There were only 362 runners in the half marathon, 162 in the 5K and 173 in the 10K but the celebration was just as entertaining.

Not my Chi…..Anticipatory Failure

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.2015-03-25 18.31.44

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!”2015-03-25 18.33.29

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.

Hill no plate

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.

Oh What a Tangled Web We Weave and that can be a good thing!

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.

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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.

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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.

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Just A Bumming Around

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.

young-papa1

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.3-11-2015 1-35-15 PM3-11-2015 1-34-37 PM

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.

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I love you Dad. (or Papa as he is known by most everyone.)