multi-hyphenated-me

the hyphens that define my life

Start Me Up November 15, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 7:56 pm
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If you start me up

If you start me up

I’ll never stop

If you start me up

If you start me up I’ll never stop

I’ve been running hot

You got me ticking gonna blow my top

If you start me up

If you start me up

I’ll never stop

~Mick Jaggar & Keith Richards

This weekend is Startup Weekend in Spokane.  Startup Weekends are 54-hour events designed to provide superior experiential education for technical and non-technical entrepreneurs.  Beginning with Friday night pitches and continuing through brainstorming, business plan development, and basic prototype creation, Startup Weekends culminate in Sunday night demos and presentations.   Participants create working startups during the event and are able to collaborate with like-minded individuals outside of their daily networks. All teams hear talks by industry leaders and receive valuable feedback from local entrepreneurs. The weekend is centered around action, innovation, and education. Startup Weekend is targeted to those looking for feedback on a idea, a co-founder, specific skill sets, or a team to help you execute.  Startup Weekends are the perfect environment in which to test your idea and take the first steps towards launching your own startup.  All this for a fee, $85, unless you’re a student.

I was invited to participate in Statup Weekend.  My initial response was to sing the Rolling Stones “Start Me Up.”  As a result, I didn’t sign up. Don’t think I don’t have big ideas.  Oh, I got ’em.  And if I don’t, my husband sure does. Yet, as Miyagi instructs, all grasshoppers must have patience.  This mother ship has barely landed in Spokane, my dining room isn’t completely painted yet, I need time to establish my root system.

One thing is to have ideas, another is to act on them.  Acting is what differentiates you from being a worker bee to an entrepreneur.  I’ve been both, worker bee and entrepreneur.  Each are great and suck in their own light. Being a worker bee provides stability and paychecks like clockwork, sharing not owning the responsibility of the company for the price of following the rules set forth by your employer.  As an entrepreneur, you have to make the magic happen, sometimes alone, with huge rewards or huge failure, owning all of the responsibility.

I just read “The War of Art” by Steven Pressfield (another from the Real Simple list, 50 books that changed my life).  The book is directed at writers and artists and other creative types trying to survive.  Pressfield compares the amateur versus the professional.  The amateur is the worker bee, chugging along, doing what he has to do to get by, not loving it, just living it.  The professional, on the other hand, has passion, loves what he does with complete focus and knows that with success comes failure.  The professional must learn to beat resistance, to persevere, to stay on task and good or bad, keep moving forward.

I highly recommend this book to everyone, especially those in attendance at Spokane’s Startup Weekend.  Best of luck overcoming resistance and persevering to see your startup come to fruition.

 

Parkour November 14, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 8:50 pm
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Thursday nights are spent at Spokane Gymnastics where my 9-year-old practices his handstands, backbends, cartwheels and has a lot of fun too.  Every week, I read, glancing up occasionally to see how he’s progressing.  Halfway through our hour each week, I am fascinated by the group of teenagers that meet to practice Parkour.

Wikipedia defines Parkour  as a holistic training discipline using movement that developed from obstacle course training.Practitioners aim to quickly and efficiently overcome obstacles in their environment, using only their bodies and their surroundings to propel themselves; furthermore, they try to maintain as much momentum as is possible in a safe manner. Parkour can include running, climbing, swinging, vaulting, jumping, rolling, quadrupedal movement and the like, depending on what movement is deemed most suitable for the given situation.  Parkour is non-competitive. It may be performed on an obstacle course, but is usually practiced in a creative, and sometimes playful, reinterpretation or subversion of urban spaces. Parkour involves seeing one’s environment in a new way, and imagining the potentialities for movement around it.

That’s the official definition.  Parkour, from my eyes, is hardcore ninja moves where this skinny but ripped young men go from a standing position to flipping into the air to land on one foot and balance or on a platform at a different level.  Their practice is fascinating to watch.

Where do they use these Parkour skills?  If it’s non-competitive, I would guess it’s only beneficial if you’re in a ninja fight or running from the cops.  None of these kids look like ninja warriors or hoodlums.  Are they training just to burn steam?  That’s a lot of effort easy resolved with a  couple miles on the treadmill.  Parkourians (?) do have street cred in my book just because they have awesome moves.

Do you know anyone that Parkours?  I don’t.  The guys remind me of my brother when he was a teenager.  I think his Parkour type moves were just recovery moves from eating it on his skateboard.

Parkour is hardcore.  As much as I am amazed by their abilities and athleticism, I wince in pain when they crash as a result of not pulling off a move.  Five feet or higher off the ground, in a flippy twist of some sort to fall SMACK on their side on the ground.  That has to hurt which is exactly why Parkour isn’t for me. No thanks.  I have enough issues just walking without connecting with concrete, I don’t need to crash just because I fucked up some badass move.

If you have never seen Parkour moves, check it out on You Tube.  Incredible feats by amazing athletes, just for to say they can.

Unfortunately my son, though a strong beast, has the coordination of his mother.  At least he’s out there trying and I’m thrilled to watch.

 

Love Is In the Air November 13, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 9:22 pm
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LOVE IS IN THE AIR

Love is in the air  Everywhere I look around

Love is in the air  Every sight and every sound

And I don’t know if I’m being foolish  Don’t know if I’m being wise

But it’s something that I must believe in  And it’s there when I look in your eyes

Love is in the air  In the whisper of the trees

Love is in the air  In the thunder of the sea

And I don’t know if I’m just dreaming

Don’t know if I feel sane

But it’s something that I must believe in

And it’s there when you call out my name

John Paul Young

Perhaps the dropping temperatures have warmed the hearts of my young heartthrobs.  Something has definitely got them in the mood.  Maybe the obnoxious squirrel activity is getting to them too.  I don’t know the cause, but I do know that tonight at dinner, unprovoked, our youngest announced that he is in love.  Flat out.  In love.  My oldest boy nearly fell out of his chair but regained composure to hear the details without spoiling the mood. There is this girl who our youngest loves. Alas, she only talks to another boy.  My son, and I QUOTE “only hope one day she will love me.”

Our nine-year old middle child chimed in stating that his older brother is lucky to be in middle school so he can start dating.  Again, our oldest son nearly fell onto the floor yet again regained composure with a head snap so quick I thought he had given himself whiplash.  Middle school is the golden age in elementary lore (apparently) where one can have a girlfriend and start dating.  Our middle school oldest son quickly said, “no thanks.” Our nine-year old then listed his top three loves in class as girls he would ask out on dates.  He wants to start earning and saving money now so he has date money.

I had no comment.  I was stunned speechless.  My oldest son asked me, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”  “Nope.”  He decided to take matters into his own hands.  “Stop thinking about girls,” he advised his younger brothers, “get involved in sports or something, girls will make you crazy.”  The seasoned chick magnet speaks out.

At this point I was rubbing my eyebrows and forehead off my face.  Not wanting to ruin a good thing, I thanked them for sharing their feelings and asked, “Do the girls know you like them?”  The youngest said “No way.  I was tortured at my old school for THREE years because I told a girl I liked them, that’s not happening again.”  Our middle son just grinned.  Romance is brewing in the fourth grade.

Oh boy, here we go.

 

Untoward Sciurine and Circadian Rhythms November 12, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 8:08 pm
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Of all the books I read and have read, it is through social media that I have expanded my vocabulary this week with new words.  This accomplishment must be highlighted because my vocabulary has been in the toilet lately.  So crappy in fact, I said “for sure” as in classic 80’s speak not once, not twice but three times today while on a business call with one of our company vice presidents.  Granted, he’s the surfer VP whose age and jargon align with my own, but still, let’s expand our vocabulary and lay off the vernacular.

Sticking with the theme of the season, did you know squirrels are sciurids?  sci·u·rid (s y-r d) adj. Of, belonging to, or resembling the Sciuridae, a family of rodents that includes the squirrels and related mammals. n. A sciurid rodent.  Sciurids gets corrected by spellcheck on WordPress as “scariness” which I find totally appropriate.  Totally.

Let’s use the new word in a sentence.  To answer the question, “What happened to your arm?”  I would have responded, “I was attacked by squirrels.”  Now, with my new word, What happened to your arm?” is answered, “Sciurids attacked me.”  Sciurids sound fierce.  I was lucky to escape with just a broken arm.  Beware.

One of my blog readers informed me that sciurids are our friends.  Yes, of course they are.  Of course.

How have I never ever heard the word “untoward?”  Most likely because it is one of those words that were lost while crossing the pond from British English to American English along with the extra “u” that Brits and all the colonies add to words, like colour.  Why do they have it?  Why did we get rid of it?  A mystery.  If you know the reason, please don’t tell me.  I like my pond theory.

un·to·ward [ un táwrd ]

  1. inappropriate: not appropriate or fitting
  2. unexpected: unusual or unexpected
  3. causing misfortune: causing misfortune or disadvantage

For nineteen years I’ve been telling my kids to stop this inappropriate nonsense when I could have been saying stop this untoward nonsense.  My kids are so going to get it now, just wait until I start dropping untoward on them.  They will seriously think I’ve lost it.  Seriously.

Untoward appeared in an article my Kiwi friend posted on Facebook about some farmer who’s cattle is being butchered by crazy, lazy hunters in New Zealand.  The farmer didn’t see anything untoward.  I had to stop and look up the word.  What didn’t he see? Nothing inappropriate, unusual or unexpected. Huh.  I was drawn to the article because I wanted to see if “spotlighting” meant the same thing in New Zealand as it does in the States.  Little did I know I would stumble upon a whole new word.  For the record, yes, nocturnal animal spotlighting is universal. My crazy Kiwi friends always guide me well and bring me joy.

This afternoon I was conversing with a neighbor that has lived in our Spokane neighborhood for over 30 years.  In every conversation I have had with her, she mentions Circadian Rhythms.  I get the idea of her reference each time but only today did I look it up to find out what she’s really talking about.  I know what these rhythms are, I just didn’t realize they had a name.  Here’s a great photo to describe Circadian Rhythms:

circadian rythms

Between you and me, I think my neighbor just likes saying Circadian Rhythms, it really doesn’t apply to our topics of conversation, perhaps figuratively just not literally.  We mainly discuss leaves, mulch, raspberry bushes, the neighborhood then and now, fly fishing (she talks, I listen) and local politics (she’s feisty).  I have a lot to learn from her.

Did you know these words?  I hope I have enlightened you as I have been enlightened.  Word up homies!

 

Vacation Day November 11, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 8:52 pm
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Vacation or holiday, both need to be defined better at our house.

As I type this post at 7:50 PM this evening, this holiday, a vacation day, has taken its toll as my body aches and my eyes will barely stay open. In a nutshell, we continued the dining room paint project, we went out to breakfast, ran some errands, painted some more, missed lunch, did some laundry, went with the kids to the park and played Frisbee and Boomerang and went on a two-mile run, came home and raked up the rest of the leaves from the yard, made dinner, baked cookies, cleaned the kitchen and now I blog.

The painting project is not finished.  Two days were spent on trim work alone.  Today we cut in the first coat of the wall color and now the project waits possibly until next weekend as we have a busy schedule for the week ahead.  My dining room is the paint room.  The foyer is filled with tool boxes and paint materials.  The living room has most of the dining room furniture and is in total disarray.  Though we’ve lived here almost five months, it looks like we just moved in.  The dining room is taking shape though and we love (L.O.V.E. LOVE!) the colors chosen.  Huge props to my husband for being a great painter as well as exercising extreme patience for his messy painting assistant (that would be me).  Patience please, photos will follow when the room is done.

The boys have been begging to return to The Old European Breakfast House and today was the day we could all go.  Dad and the boys have been once before while I was at some point.  When the boys individually want aebelskivers, a Dutch baby and potato pancakes, it’s time to go out and The Old European in North Spokane is the place to go.  Aebelskivers are Danish donut holes but sweeter and perfectly round.  They are made in an aebelskiver pan, mine are cast iron with six circle indentations.  They are a hassle and a half to make without much reward, in my opinion, so I rarely (read: never) make them as my 9-year-old complains. Dutch baby, or puff pancake, is a simple recipe (3 eggs, 1/2 milk, 1/2 c. flour, 1/2 tsp. salt) that puffs on the sides when baked in the oven.  Puff pancakes are so easy, I make them all the time.  We eat Dutch babies (the pancake, not the kid) as they are traditionally served, with lemon and powdered sugar. Our youngest would eat puff pancakes ever day if I would let him, some days I do.  I could live on potato pancakes, applesauce and sour cream.  Our oldest boy could live on them too.  The Old European had “Free Breakfast” for Veterans today, so the place was packed yet we only had to wait a few minutes for a table.    Service was great and the food delicious.  Old European was a great start to our day.

Errand running was productive but draining.  Strap three boys in the car for any length of time and a brawl is bound to happen.  Why?  Why is it so difficult to maintain civility for an hour?  By the time we got home I was ready to knock their heads together or give them the Three Stooges treatment.  We went to our separate spaces for a much needed break.

My space was more painting.  We painted enough so I could hang my new curtains for a minute just to confirm we were on the right track.  Paint colors – check.  Paint in progress – check.  Curtains look great – check.  We’re off to a good start.

Today was a gorgeous 50 degrees and sunny, we had to get outside and enjoy the weather.  We rallied the boys and headed to the park for some Frisbee and Boomerang fun.  While there, my oldest son, who is recovering from a knee injury (still), and I went for a run “old lady style.”  I haven’t run since July.  Whenever I start again, I follow the Women’s Guide to Running 6 week program to running a 5K.  A very slow and steady approach, you start by walking a three minute warm-up, then run one minute, walk two minutes for six sets, finishing with a three minute walk.  Twenty-four minutes later, you’ve covered two miles.  I was winded and my leg muscles were yelling Hello!, my son was fine with some knee pain, but tolerable.  Oh the resilience of youth!

When we returned back to the house, our yard, halfway raked, looked in desperate need of attention.  We grabbed the rakes, trash bags, mower and blowers and tackled the rest of the leaves.  Why do we rake leaves?  Isn’t the decomposing organic leaf matter naturally good for the soil?  One of our neighbors told us we need to rake the leaves because of moss growth.  Why is moss bad?  You don’t have to mow moss, I know that much.  I’m anti-lawn to begin with, moss could be my new BFF.  Not this year though, we raked up every damn leaf.

Our youngest demanded chocolate chip cookies for his efforts.  He was in charge of the pine needles in the back yard and did an excellent job.  Our oldest was the mower, our 9-year-old was the rover helping everyone and my husband and I worked alongside all of them.  We all wanted cookies, but first dinner.  There was no dinner plan so I stood in front of the fridge and pantry for quite a while before I figured out what I could throw together.  Why don’t I have some ready-made meal in the freezer?  That is going to change this week. Dinner and dessert was accomplished, the kitchen cleaned and the kids are showered and now in bed.

Today was a full day as I would expect from any vacation day.

Thanks today is given to our veterans, past, present and future for their service.

In the beginning of a change, the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot. ~ Mark Twain

 

Rough Life November 10, 2013

Filed under: Family,Life — multihyphenatedme @ 2:06 pm
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Yesterday our youngest went to a friend’s house for the first time for a play date.  He came home after four peaceful hours and announced his friend’s family live a rough life.  Huh.  The dad is a cardiologist and the mom is a nurse.  I had to ask, “What’s so rough?”  I should have guessed his reply.  “They have a Wii but they are only allowed to play sometimes, so really no video game time.  They are barely allowed to watch TV, even cartoons! And, when we had hot chocolate, they don’t have marshmallows or whipped cream.”  “Oh my gosh!” I exclaimed in mock horror.  “What did you do for four hours?” “Oh,” he shrugged and said “we played outside, played in his room, teased his sister, helped rake leaves and just played.”  “It sounds like you had a good time.”  “Yes, but I couldn’t live like that every day.”

This was his first play date since we moved and I am so thankful he’s making friends and experiencing new perspectives on life.  Isn’t that what friends are for?

While he was away, my husband and I were painting the dining room.  I love my dining room.  First, its oval which is just awesome.  Built in china cabinets and valances above the huge window at one end and another over the buffet cabinet. The problem with this room since the second I saw the house, is the color.  The room was painted a glaring caution sign yellow-gold with the window trim, baseboards, valances and outer cabinets painted white.  The inside of the cabinets painted blue.  Every day since June I have asked if we could paint the dining room since every meal in that room (every day) makes me want to scream.  Color has huge impact on me.  I’m color sensitive apparently because the boys and my husband didn’t mind the combination. Eek.

The first step is, of course, to agree on paint colors.  Even though he is not, I’m certain my husband is color blind.  It took us a solid month to pull paint samples, test colors and finally (FINALLY) agree on colors.  With that accomplished, we scheduled this 3-day weekend to paint.  I just want to point out my husband and kids have Monday off, I had to take a vacation day to paint.  Not an ideal vacation, but I am willing since the yellow-gold paint needs to go.

While painting, we listen to music.  My husband is a metal head but appreciates a good dance track (aka, he loves Justin Timberlake).  We’re listening to the playlist I created and labeled “Housecleaning.”  It doubles as my “Dance Party” playlist.  I hate cleaning so if I have to clean, I might as well dance while scrubbing.  There are a few timeless ballads included so I can sing in full voice occasionally too.  This playlist is a good time.  My husband is tolerant, even dancing along from time to time, but he’s a serious worker and focused on task.

The playlist contains everyone.  Eminem, Michael Jackson, Lady Antebellum, JT, Jay-Z and Beyoncé and everyone in between.  At one point, Enrique Iglesias came on with “I Like It.”  My husband asked if this was Bull Dog.  You mean, Pit Bull?  No, it’s Enrique, I love Enrique. “You know he has a new album out,” he said.  “What?  How do you know?  You didn’t even know this was Enrique.”  He said, “I saw him interviewed on Ellen DeGeneres. Enrique lives with his partner in Puerto Rico, has two boys and parasails.”  “WHAT?!?!?” I asked, “When did you watch Ellen DeGeneres?”  Remember we don’t watch TV, we Netflix.  Ellen also airs in the afternoon when he is working.  We don’t TiVo anything, ever, either. While I’m thinking he has too much free time, he told me he watched the episode while waiting for the doctor the other day.  Ah yes, that explains it.  Shocking, but explained.

We’re still painting today, photos will post when we’re done.  So far it’s awesome and I love it.  The kids are raking and bagging leaves, living the rough life (minus the crepes for breakfast and the hot chocolate fortification during break time).

 

Enjoy the Moments November 8, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 10:31 pm
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My squirrel saga lives on.  My cast is off, my arm is healed, but the squirrel jokes linger. My Facebook friends like to post squirrel videos or squirrel pictures to let me know they’re thinking of me while making fun of me.  That’s cool, I appreciate good squirrel jokes.

My very dear friend posted this photo, not to mock (a sign of a true friend [stick out tongue at all the other “friends”)], but to remind me of a conversation we had on one reason why we wanted to move out of Southern California.

squirrel humor

In Southern California, I felt like every day was a competition, and it was crazy. Competing for parking spaces, driving advantage, time, staying current on trends, while trying to instill values in your kids that it’s better to give than receive while they compete or keep up with their friends.  Competition was compounded just by the sheer numbers of people.  I found it overwhelming and draining.  I haven’t been in a rut, I am just settling into my groove.  My day-to-day groove is just chill.  The funny thing is that a chill groove is so foreign to me that I need to accept and enjoy.  That doesn’t make for exciting, funny, interesting or inspiring blog posts, but it does challenge me to write differently which is a good thing.

Family has not missed the opportunity to poke fun at me on the squirrel theme.  This week my younger sister sent me this t-shirt….

squirrel whisperer

The t-shirt is hysterical enough, please help me, I have a squirrel wardrobe.  Her message sent with the gift is legendary, “I am confident you have earned the dignity and respect  amongst the Spokane Squirrel Squad. ‘She is one tough lady – and smells like delicious nutty baked goods’.”  Spokane Squirrel Squad!  Nutty Treats!  Oh, that part could be true.

My husband and I were out running errands at lunch the other day.  When we returned, we entered through the side door and I noticed my house smelled really good, like chicken soup and homemade cookies.  I said this to my husband.  He replied, “Great, here I thought I married my mother, but I really married my grandmother.”  This was a fist pump moment for me.  I am an aspiring old woman, right on track (maybe slightly ahead of the curve) as I age up.

Just to keep in touch with my silly, young self (I’m certain it’s in here somewhere), I am a co-room mom for my eight year olds third grade class.  Twenty-four eight year olds celebrated with a Harvest Party for an hour today and it was awesome.  The first thing you do with kids is divide them into manageable groups.  With four sets of six kids labeled as apples, owls, scarecrows and pumpkins, we rotated the groups through four centers.  The centers included Funky and Fun Thanksgiving Facts (an interactive and informative Thanksgiving center complete with “Swill” to taste), bobbing for doughnuts (doughnuts tied with string and hung from an overhead wire hanger.  The kids have to eat the doughnut without using their hands), peanut butter and birdseed pine cone bird feeders, and a trail mix bar and apple juice.  I managed the peanut butter and birdseed pine cone bird feeder center.  Messy, gooey, sticky and a great project for eight year olds, we had fun making these bird feeders.  The birds will have stiff competition from the squirrels that will want to eat these yummy treats (gotta look out for my little friends, pyscho beasts we know them to be).

With all this said, I realize that I haven’t been in a rut, I just haven’t taken the time to reflect and appreciate where I’m at in life and enjoy the moments.  I’m thankful for our move and for Spokane.  I’m thankful for my friends, my family, for my children, for being able to see through a child’s eyes, for aging gracefully (despite the wipeouts), and, yes, I’m thankful for squirrels.

 

What Errands Will Get You November 2, 2013

Filed under: Cooking — multihyphenatedme @ 9:48 pm
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Days like today make for writer’s block.

Rain, housecleaning, laundry, room painting projects and errands didn’t provide any exciting or interesting fodder for discussion or comment.  Productive, but flat and uneventful.

I did accomplish a long list of errands and felt good about tackling the list when I got home.  That is until I realized I skipped five items on my grocery list.  Instead of jumping back in the car, I decided to brave the wind, rain and blustery weather and walk the five blocks to our nearest market to pick up the forgotten groceries.  Other than my three fingers on my left hand freezing because they are not in the cast I’m sporting and because I can’t wear a glove or put my hand in my pocket because of the same cast (thank you squirrels), the trip to the store was just a stroll in wild weather.

At the market I grabbed the five items I needed and headed toward the front of the store.  I was stopped in my tracks by this sign posted in the meat department:

hog casings

Just when I thought my day was ho-hum, lo and behold a sign of intrigue.

The first line is Russian, the third line is Slavic and English is the fourth line.  What language is the second line?  Or are the second and third line together?

Once I appreciated the diversity of my neighborhood, I paused to reflect on the sign’s message.  Hog casing, defined, are the cleaned small intestine of a hog used to make sausage. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to know or think about what hot dogs are made out of, what sausages are cased in or any related fine  print.  Make something delicious and eat it, let’s not discuss point of origin.

Yet here, right in my face, at my local market, hog casings are available.  Not only was this sign the high point of my day, it was also the low point.  As I’m checking out the languages on the handmade sign, getting the willies over the topic at hand, a part of my brain goes right into action and starts thinking that I should make some summer sausage.  At this moment, I want to slap myself in the face.  Not only do I have enough projects to keep me busy for quite some time (with deadlines quickly approaching), I do not need to be planning ways to use or eat hog casing.

I took the photo, checked out and walked home.  No squirrels, no additional injuries.

My husband was sleeping on the couch having snoring wars with the dog asleep on the floor when I got home.  The boys were absorbed in video games.  No one had interest in my photo or my story.

That’s what I love about this blog, my stories get told and just maybe, someone (like you) is reading.  Thank you. Hog casing?

PS – This was my first post that had no detectable writing errors found by wordpress.  Fistpump.

 

A New Month November 1, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 11:25 pm
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November is here!  November is here!

Twenty-eight days until Hanukkah and Thanksgiving and fifty-five days until Christmas.  This year ends is sixty-one days. These countdowns make a good chunk of me want to run around in a circle, screaming and waving my arms in complete senseless panic. The remaining parts are jumping up and down with excitement and a “”bring it on” mentality. Ready or not, the holidays are upon us.

Typically I begin a new month with my dinner menu for the month.  November and January, however, are our detox months.  After inhaling more candy than I care to admit in October and more cookies and delectables in December, November and January are good months to cleanse.  We don’t detox the entire month, just somewhere between fourteen and twenty-one days.

For November, my husband and I will do the Reboot Your Life 14-day detox.  Check out the reboot options at www.rebootyourlife.com.  Vast amounts of fruits, vegetables, juice, olive oil,  seasonings, coconut water, herbal tea and not much else. This reboot has gnarly moments as your body adjusts from the candy binge but you feel great as you progress through the two-week process.  After fourteen days, we’ll decide if we want to continue for another week.  Sometimes we do, sometimes we don’t.  I’ll keep you posted.

The hardest part of this diet is planning, shopping and preparing different food for the kids while you’re drinking your blended herbivore dinner.  We find it philosophically wrong to feed them processed frozen food while we eat as pure, clean and organic as possible.   We will incorporate our soups and veggie dinner options with their meals and stock up on the fruits and veggies they enjoy.  Their meals will be protein and whole grain loaded as well.

You’re on your own this month.  Go forth and cook.

As you know, I have huge disdain for magazines that only publish five dinners a week menus.    Magazines have let me down again this month, specifically Bon Appetit and Martha Stewart Living.  Both magazines, BOTH, promote serving Ocean Spray Cranberry Sauce from the can on Thanksgiving.  Both magazines have published multiple recipes for cranberry sauce or cranberry relish over the years, why now are they simultaneously promoting the canned variation?

Don’t get me wrong, I was raised on the canned variety.  My mom would jiggle the jellied mass out, slice into perfect thin, even circles then fan the circles on a bed of lettuce.  Since I have been hosting Thanksgiving for over 15 years, I make fresh cranberry sauce.  Berries + sugar + water = sauce.  Easy and delicious and lots of it. Plus, fresh doesn’t have that tinny-straight-from-the-can taste. Yet, I always buy a can of Ocean Spray cranberry sauce for that last turkey sandwich or plate of leftovers that outlasted the batch of homemade cranberry sauce.

One of my favorite mantras that I say to my kids – “Just because you can, doesn’t mean you get to.”

You “can” go to a grocery store or restaurant and have the entire Thanksgiving meal prepared.  I don’t subscribe to food magazines that supply recipes to be told to buy a can of pre-made.  I find this shameful.  A simple case of doing the job you’re paid to do.  Provide recipes, not grocery store aisle numbers. Provide dinner menus for thirty or thirty-one nights, not skimp and provide twenty.

As I climb off my soap box (which I have been waiting weeks to climb upon),   I apologize for no monthly menu.  I don’t get paid to post menus.  This blog is based on my whims, my adventures and my reality.

My reality is to clean up my diet and body, be healthy and well so I can totally gorge on my entirely homemade Thanksgiving dinner and then take a nap. 

I am thankful for you, my faithful readers.  Thank you.  Magazines, not so much.

 

Squirrel With Me October 30, 2013

Filed under: Life — multihyphenatedme @ 8:54 pm
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Ok. Ouch.  My wrist really hurt yesterday. I reached my pain threshhold and decided to go to the doctor today and get it check out.

Just to recap, eleven days ago, I hurt my wrist when I fell as the result of being attacked by squirrels. [see previous post:  Squirrel Attack! for all the details.]  The road rash on my knees has scabbed over beautifully and are nearly healed.  I still haven’t bought new gloves to replace the ones shredded in the incident.

At the doctor’s office today I told the nurse my story, (did you think I would just say I fell?) she said what I said, “Damn Squirrels!” She added, “That’s why I don’t feel bad when I run them over.”  She definitely has bigger issues than I do with squirrels.  I still have squirrel compassion but I’m definitely on the defensive.

The x-rays were a hot topic of discussion in the doctor’s office.  They were very concerned about a bone chip.  No need to fret, I informed, the bone chip happened when I broke my arm in the 5th grade.  The squirrel attack, however, resulted in a hairline fracture , less than an inch long running vertically up my ulna. (anatomy check:  two arm bones, radius and ulna).  The fracture doesn’t hurt from all the twists and turns the doctor tested me with; the wrist sprain and soft tissue damage is what hurts.

The brace I had been wearing didn’t provide enough stability nor did the braces the doctor’s office offered.  The doctor foolishly suggested that I just rest and not use my left arm.  Clearly he doesn’t know me.  I explained that I’m a mother of 4, I work full time, have too many projects and its the holidays. HELLO! I will use every available limb. Our only choice was to go with a soft cast, or in doctor speak, an ulnar gutter splint.  The gutter runs from the top of my ring finger on my left hand, also encasing the pinky finger, up to my elbow.  Finger tip to elbow is then wrapped in a couple of Ace bandages.

This is my Halloween costume:

squirrel injury

Why  did I go to the doctor?  Now I can’t move my left hand!  Do you know how hard it is to type with this thing on?

The bright side is that I won’t be able to do dishes for two weeks! Woo!  Happy dance!  The boys are going to be thrilled when they find out they are on KP duty.

I bought myself this theme perfect sweater for the holidays from TJ Maxx.  I’m certain this squirrel got their bling from some poor unsuspecting soul that was attacked and robbed.  Squirrels are capable, don’t be fooled by their cute faces and fluffy tails.

squirrel sweater

After my doctor’s visit, I watched squirrels dig in my small but effective bulb garden today.  T-Bone and Jerry, our boy cats, played a good game of chase with the squirrels.  The cats grew weary and the squirrels were determined to take my bulbs but were unsuccesful.  Break my arm, bruise my ego, but do not, I repeat do not, mess with my garden.  I could get a pellet gun and shoot at them from my office window.  Tempting.  Good to know my options.

I realize I’m a little obsessed with squirrels right now.  My arm will heal, snow will fall (maybe as soon as tonight), the year will end, the garden will grow despite the efforts of these ferocious beasts.  Squirrel with me as I obsess (why should bears get all the credit?).