Cooking Again

When I find myself stuck and feeling overwhelmed, I begin to plan. It can take a few days, or a few weeks to get there, but it’s often my first step to getting unstuck.

Breakfast for dinner wasn’t part of the plan, but I don’t make a plan expecting to follow it. I make a plan to start moving. A good meal plan and grocery list does just that. And the cheddar eggs, cinnamon and pumpkin spice sweet potatoes and apples, and bacon was amazing!

After weeks of barely navigating life, I’m feeling more grounded and confident today. So I followed my motivation and made egg muffins for breakfast and then set to work on the soup and washing dishes. I got the kids cleaning a bit, too.

Now we’re enjoying some of that amazing soup for lunch. Most of the recipes I use are a jumping point for whatever I end up making. I have never used hominy before and I like it. Other ingredients are sweet potato, two kinds of sausage (I used beef and turkey), kale, cannellini beans, garlic, cinnamon, nutmeg, paprika, and chicken broth. So good!

Now that I’ve got our food in hand, cleaning the house is next. ‘Tis the season for preparing for winter.

Wednesday Anxiety

It never fails. Every Wednesday my anxiety skyrockets and puts me in a chokehold. No matter the tasks I accomplish, or the ones I don’t, I’m smothered under the weight of it.

Sometimes it’s the weight of all the things I need to do. Other times, it’s the fear that I must be missing something because I can’t possibly have gotten everything done-even if I have. Either way I shift between sitting frozen in panic and wandering the house trying to do things but never getting started the whole day.

It’s extremely frustrating. I have worked so hard on managing my anxiety, that to be so stuck with this new (and yet familiar) variation of it, I feel disappointed. My OCD has increased, yet is still easier to handle than this ridiculous level of steady panic.

I know what helps, but I lack the motivation I used to have. I baked all the time when the kids were little. Even when I worked full time. From scratch, which is a lot easier than I was led to believe. Plus, once you have the supplies, it’s easy to make all kinds of things.

I cooked nearly every meal from scratch. Again, easier than I was led to believe once I got in the swing of it. My OCD came in handy here as I got really good at making meal plans that created a grocery list where nothing really went to waste. I knew what to keep in stock at home and mapped my list to match the store’s layout for a quicker experience.

I was able to workout several times a week and the kids forced me to be more active. My husband was great at getting us out for walks, as much as we complained, they helped and we all had a better evening.

I think it started with my kidney stones. They were so incapacitating. So painful. I stopped. I actually let people take care of me and take on my responsibilities. I was out of work for a while. We were living on my income. I can feel myself growing less anxious just admitting that. We got through it, with a lot of help.

I got a lot done today. A few more things and I should have some time to relax before the kids get home. Then into a hectic evening. At least my Thursday is free. And usually free of anxiety too. At least the high level kind.

Traditions

Thanksgiving was always the same every year. Magical. I didn’t even realize how magical until those years were long gone.

I remember the bustle of getting ready. All of us getting dressed up and looking nice. I was the kind of kid who loved dressing up, so any opportunity to wear a pretty dress, shoes that clicked when I walked, and style my hair was exciting. I didn’t have many of these opportunities.

We always brought green bean casserole. Wrapped in newspaper and tucked inside two paper bags in opposite directions. My mom made it and my dad carried it. Piping hot.

We’d bundle up and pack into the car to drive over to our friend’s apartment building. There was almost always snow on the ground. It was always cold. And I would always curse my need for pretty shoes when boots would have been the better choice. We were all excited.

Even the elevator ride was an adventure. Us kids would try to remember which door was Cindy’s. We only came over for Thanksgiving. It’s funny how it all started.

My mom wanted one holiday without my dad’s family. She wanted one where she could actually relax. I love my dad’s family, but they are a lot. I totally understand my mom’s request.

Basically, my dad was still friends with his childhood babysitter and she became friends with my mom. This babysitter happened to be dating a guy that my mom had gone to high school with and he hit it off with my dad, so they became good friends. And they all became a friend group even after those two quit dating. This is how it was when I arrived in this world. Thanksgiving was at the high school friend’s sister’s apartment.

Their sister came too. With her son. And my dad’s old babysitter brought her daughters, who actually babysat us on occasion. We’d all pile in, filling the hallway with shoes and coats. It was so warm and cozy in that space.

I remember being so confused by the separation that happened next. Why did all the women huddle in the kitchen and all the men around the football game? I knew why us kids were banished to the bedroom to watch ET, again. But why did the grownups continue these stupid gender roles?

Because it was wonderful!

I remember laughter tumbling out of the kitchen. The many pots of food on the stove, the pans in the oven, the platters ready and waiting. Each woman had wine and an ease about them I rarely saw. A kinship no man could understand. There was magic in that kitchen. As they took turns stirring and seasoning and pouring they filled that room to bursting and then let it spill into the dining room as the food was laid out on an elegant spread.

I remember the quiet conversations from the living room. The deep voices uncharacteristically calm, subdued. Their whoops and groans as the game played out. A shot of sound cutting through the buzz of the announcer. Beer in dark brown bottles was the drink out here. There was no tight knot of worry or toughness in them. I felt safe and comfortable walking by to see what the adults were up to. They brought this relaxed calm to the table with them and spread it around.

I hated ET. I still won’t watch it. I mean, I tried to watch it with my kids. They love it. I just can’t. We watched it every year. And every year my dislike of it was one of the running jokes. Until we tried Batman Forever and then The Nightmare Before Christmas (which I hated the first few times, but is now one of my favorite Christmas movies). So they tried to find something for all of us, but we were quite the age range. I still love the memories of the movie.

I had no idea some families put kids at a different table. It was never that way for us. We all sat together. Passing the plates around, using our manners, making sure everyone got some of what they wanted. We all talked to each other. Everyone was heard, everyone seen, everyone loved. It was all so organic and natural.

My parents and their friends really created a very magical childhood for us kids. I have always been grateful for it, but am also often struck by deep waves of gratitude when I realize how few people had a village raise them. How many parents are trying to create all of that alone. How small my own kids’ village is.

I sometimes get a bit teary eyed thinking about those early traditions. A lot has changed since then. There was a time when I didn’t even know if I could create the same relaxed joy for my own kids; or for myself. But I’ll leave that for another story.

Richard & Edward

I almost stopped reading. She’s dating Richard in this one.

He’s not a bad guy, he’s actually described as being very ‘Boy Scout’. I think he’s a bit of a wuss. Well, a stubborn jackass might be more accurate.

But Edward is also in this one. Everyone loves Edward. He’s definitely a favorite of mine. It’s a minor role, but such great set-up for the future!

So I’m sticking with it. I love all of the Anita Blake novels. I’m just happier when Richard is no longer a boyfriend. Which isn’t yet.

I’m having a blast rereading all of these and am getting really excited to catch up to where I left off. Sometimes it pays to let a series sit for a few years (maybe more like a decade). Now I’ve got plenty to look forward to!

Okay. I read some more. I really do like Richard, but he’s so frustrating! And aggravating. And can really be an ass. I’ve always preferred Jean-Claude. He can be aggravating too, but it’s more fun when he does it. More playful.

Finished it. Now I remember. The first time I finished it, I called my dear friend who introduced me to the series and said “finally!” and something about still not liking Richard. They laughed.

The Killing Dance, number six in the Anita Blake vampire hunter series by Laurell K. Hamilton. Onto Burnt Offerings. Love this series!

Weird Together

My husband has always been very encouraging about my writing. He may not always understand my madness, but he tries his best to be helpful.

I wrote recently about how expansive my days off feel, until they arrive and then they are narrowed down by my need to decompress. Well, my husband has similar ideas about my time and is often confused by how little I actually write.

He also seems a bit baffled by my inability to write with everyone home. I don’t know how easily he thinks I can get in and out of my story, but it takes a whole hour to even find my groove.

This means, if I have to do anything else on my day off, I can’t write. If everyone is home interrupting me every half hour, I can’t write. If it’s the only day I have with no plans for the whole week, I often can’t write.

So, I tell him these things. He understands that I’m strange and peculiar. It’s frustrating, but he loves me for it too. Sometimes his need for me to get things done, or his expectation that I can do it motivates me. While it’s frustrating, I love him for it. We’re weird together.

Which is the inspiration behind my current work in progress. Two people with unusual trauma and romantic souls who want to find love, but don’t know how to trust it, find each other and figure it out.

Wow, that sounds really cliched when I say it that way. Well, I’m retelling Beauty and the Beast. That’s pretty cliched. Oh well.

So here’s to finding that person who may not get it, but loves and encourages you all the same.

Knit Dilemma

These are hats of mine that are still on sale at the studio where I work. I’ve been asked if I’ll replenish the stock and which ones I’m going to do that with.

We’ve established that the Bow and Arrow design (it’s hiding in the back) and the Half-Archer design do not sell well. I’m a bit sad about that, but having only two designs to worry about makes my life easier.

This is from when they first went on sale a couple years ago.

It’s also been pointed out that the couple of red ones I’ve made as gifts are well liked and I’ve agreed to make some of those. I also had a request for the Stag in brown. So I’ll do that too.

When I first received the email, I panicked a bit. I like these hats, but I do get rather bored making them. But they are pretty quick to make. If I don’t over do it, I should be fine.

I did start making one my new favorite way. Double-stranded with cotton. I’m not sure I want to do this again. Maybe I’ll save it for next winter. Give myself time to make a few more like it.

As I debated and decided I finished this hat and have already set to work on the next. I’ll take a short break from my personal projects and get a few of these done. It’ll be fun.

Squealing in Horror

I think I’ve mentioned my love of horror. And my difficulty in finding my kind of horror. Well, Kingfisher has done it again. I don’t think I can bear to finish this one, but I know I can’t bear to not finish it.

The balance between perfectly normal, ordinary life and the twisted abyss of fear is masterful. I would call it New Age Gothic. Her last book, The Twisted Ones (which I highly recommend!), was called folk-horror and that fits too.

The setting is just as important as the character development, as important as the internal dialogue, as important as what we’re afraid of. It’s the kind of story that lingers. That sneaks out from behind everything else you need to be focused on and sucks you back in.

I keep walking away, unable to control the wild anxiety of endless possibilities because who knows where this story is going. The last novel was so unexpected and yet totally felt grounded in plausibility. This one is similar, and I really have no idea how this story will unfold. I love it!

So, of course, I return, only a few tasks or distractions later, and hungrily read on for the next twist. There is still half of the book left and I’m already looking at shadows and moving lights differently. Seriously. I’m freaked out by shadows. Again.

If you’re into a more sensory horror experience that brings the ancient fears into our modern lives, Kingfisher delivers. A true horror story that will keep you company long after you finish the last page.

Back to it. I can’t wait to see what’s in store! Happy reading!

Discovering Podcasts

For a long time now, I have filled silence with music, tv, or reading (yes, reading). I have also been feeling woefully under-informed. Yet, every time I try to get informed, it’s all so theatrical, opinionated, and one-sided. Ok. So it’s often two-sided, but that’s still a problem.

I’ve been missing radio news/talk shows. The kind I hated as a kid because they were so boring. Then a client of mine suggested a podcast that I might find interesting and showed me how to set it up on my phone. I started with her suggestion, the serial The Retrievals.

I highly recommend it. It was thorough, interesting, and definitely an important topic that most of us don’t think about.

Now I’m catching up on news, listening to stories about hot topics I’m trying to understand, learning about history, and I’m finding more each time I look. Plus, I love being able to download shows to listen without the internet.

I still can’t listen to a book being read, or a story where different characters are played by different people, but I do like the history episodes that do a snippet of this to really pull you into the thoughts and feelings of these long dead people.

Usually I only listen to music in the car, but these podcasts have been really good for me while driving lately. I’ve even sat knitting and listening. Or walked with ear buds in to get the kids from the bus stop. I’m feeling much more informed, even if I’m still not up for debating or holding an opinion one way or the other.

So cheers (with a coffee mug) to staying informed and trying to expand our minds. I’m so glad to have finally found an easy way to do this.

Honey Harvest Knits

That’s what I’m going to call this pattern. Other than making the thumbs a bit longer, I’m really happy with this one.

I like having the different color patterns. They have a nice weight to them with the two strands. One cotton, one acrylic.

This was my first go at a matching hat. It’s a bit short and a bit too tight. I like my hats snug, but I have to make room for all my hair! So, using my rough draft from this attempt, I’m working on a new hat. Here’s to hoping I don’t make it too big this time.

I did do a gauge swatch, but I am more of a trial-by-error knitter. The gauge is more for future use and gave me a jumping off point for stitch count. It’s been thoroughly relaxing.

Take the Quiet When You Can

Early November 1st and about an inch of light, wet snow.

I always look towards my days off as an endless expanse of time in which all my goals can be accomplished. Even if in small doses. Then these days arrive and I am met with a very different experience.

I am met with much decompressing.

I set out to spend at least an hour a day writing. Instead I just mull over the current scene.

Maybe I’ll get some dishes done and clean up one of the many chaos piles around the house. I usually end up pouring a cup of coffee and let it get cold while I zone out on a game on my phone.

I definitely want to get about 20 minutes of exercise in because it makes me feel better and my life easier. But the five knitting projects I have going keep me from drinking hot coffee while snug on the couch.

I have gotten better at making magical things happen. So I do have days where some dishes and that pile get cleaned and I stretch. Or I make four doctors appointments and pay a bill. Or I open my laptop and get a few paragraphs on the page.

Mostly, I’m learning to keep hoping and planning for busy days off, but to accept that enjoying an empty house and doing nothing is a successful day too.

Because when everyone gets home, it’s always chaos. And I love it. Now, where’d I put my coffee?