A Woman's Il-logic

I rarely start a fight when I think I might possibly be in the wrong, but it does happen. I am usually right. On occasion, it is necessary to apologize to my husband even though he was most definitely in the wrong. I am grateful during these times that he has been satisfied by my "sorrys" through clenched teeth with a look of death in my eyes.

Logically, I cannot always be right (grrr). I am pretty sure that it is not actually acceptable to start a fight because my husband is not able to locate the butter in the refrigerator, even though it is kept behind the little clear door in the fridge marked "butter" causing me to get up from a very cozy position on the couch. For the hundredth time.

Slight matters of il-logic also play a part in packing, which brings me to today. I am throwing a handicap placard burning party today. When I got the placard 4 years ago, my husband had worried that I would not be around to renew it. My blue pass expires this month, so my genius husband (I know, I know - now I call him a genius) said we should throw a party. Mom and Dirk's house is twice the size of mine and has a lake in back, so they graciously offered their place for us to use. One of my guests is my aunt who stayed with us last night.

This morning she came into the living room complaining about her lack of under packing. It seems as though there are only two ways to pack 1) as if you will never see home again and you will only ever have what you bring with you 2) as if you were backpacking in Europe where no one you know will ever have knowledge that you did not use eyeliner for a month.

(blog abruptly ended because of excitement over potential shopping and lunch with aunt)

Fried Bacon, Frutti Di Mare & Food Poisoning

Today Karl and I went to the Texas State Fair. This is the second year we have braved the Dallas traffic to pay heartily for the privilege to pet a calf, sample hot sauce and avoid the paths of aimlessly spinning unattended children covered in red slushy and powdered sugar.

Karl's days off have felt so random lately. Meetings get scheduled at the last second, another store needs help, or he very understandably gets his days off mixed up. This is how later on this week he will be going with me to get my hair cut instead of visiting the heart doctor. I thought that surely since he had a free day that the world would intervene. Apparently even the world likes a Fair Day.

We started our adventure by going to the bank. Last year's visit taught us that things generally cost money. I guess I was all geared up for a Fletcher's corny dog, because my stomach was going crazy. I thought Karl's idea to stop for fast food close to the bank was pure genius. Thank goodness for jr. cheeseburgers. And husbands who order double cheeseburgers with jalapenos that fall out the bottom of the sandwich after the first bite. It was my Texas duty to save them.

The weather was just about perfect for walking around. Nice and cool with blue skies. A couple of hours later and the Texas Glare was in full force. I had on sunglasses and a baseball cap, but somehow the brightness of everything was still overwhelming. I'm sure the temperature had crept up a little bit, but it was still... oh right, I had forgotten. The later part of summer has been hard on me, and I've spent so much down time that my endurance is a bit low. Disappointing for the girl who just a month ago had her best 6 minute walk test time ever.

The heat makes everything hard. Even when I spend the day inside with the air on. It gets hard to remember anything. Weeks after it has cooled down and I'm running around everywhere, I'll look back on summer and wonder what happened. So here's your reminder, Honey. You were prostrate with heat at the fair. At least it afforded the opportunity to watch spontaneous line-dancing. Got to love Texas!

The Texas State Fair has become famous for frying up things that had previously only been accidentally fried. Fried butter, fried cola, fried beer. For the past few years official judgement has been past on these culinary stomach aches. 2 will win, one for creativity, one for taste. The butter, cola and beer all won for creativity, none for taste. The fried bacon, however, was a 2008 taste winner. Talking Karl into spitting some with me was a non issue. That poor bacon. It was just awful. Even with barbecue sauce. So sad that someone took a perfectly good animal and turned it into that. The queasiness of that bacon stayed with us both for the rest of the day.

We sampled wine, pet a calf and toured the Made in Texas barn. I think that is my favorite barn. I know, the others have livestock and cute fuzzy bunnies, but the Made in Texas barn has free samples of food that are made in Texas. And I like the ecological displays. Last year I did the fair in a wheelchair, and we saw every last corner of the place. This year I walked it, and decided that staring from the path was well enough.

Finally, it was time for the corny dog. This year they offered one stuffed with cheese and jalapenos, both of which were near invisible. Last year was the first time that I had ever had a Fletcher's. I think this year will be the last.

We greatly considered walking to the Butterfly Museum, but it was a little too far from where we were at and I wasn't sure that once I got there I would be up for spending time in such a humid place. You can pretty much see the air in there. In previous years I had stayed away from butterfly museums because I thought it was going to be rooms of butterflys pinned to paper. I had no idea that they would be alive and well flying around in basically an oversized greenhouse.

Thankfully, Dallas was happy today and let us return home quickly. The couch was a gracious and welcoming hostess, but it seemed to me too soon when we got hungry again. Apparently, even if it's greasy, a jr. cheeseburger, a piece of bacon and half a corny dog will not fill me up for the day. This was actually pretty much okay with me. I had plans. Big plans.

A couple of days ago I was at the good grocery store and bought a combination of seafood that I had not purchased before. I have made sea scallops and shrimp, but I have never used calamari. What I am most proud of is that I cooked the seafood perfectly. I have a tendency to overcook proteins, so any step forward is cause for a celebration. I can understand wanting to impart safe cooking methods, but telling a child with a vivid imagination that something needs to be cooked until it's dead means that you risk creating an adult who loves a medium-rare steak, but can only make it well-well-done. Too bad the statement didn't inspire vegetarism.

My next hurtle for this dish will be to use mussels in it and to not overcook the pasta. I used one made with rice flour and had forgotten to remove it from the heat when the timer went off. Next time I think I might make it with just chunks of toasted bread.

I think it's time to take a shortcut and right down the recipe, because I am pretty sure that the next time I read this I will have no idea what I put together. I sauteed scallops, shrimp and calamari with olive oil and a bit of spicy seasoning, diced tomatoes and served it with pasta. I also made a side of artichoke hearts, baby tomatoes (all colors, very pretty), basil with small toasted bread from the bakery. Simple, but yummy.

I was so happy with my dinner that I decided to treat myself to a dessert drink. I remembered that I had bought small packages of chocolate soy milk, so I mixed that with a bit of vanilla vodka. Very tasty. Until the stomach cramps came. I can't believe I had forgotten that my stomach really hates chocolate soy milk. Hopefully, I will never make that mistake again. I suspected the seafood at first, but Karl was fine and he had eaten more of it than I had.

I spent the rest of the night moaning. In the bad way, ugh! I was rewarded for my illness with a couple of blessed hours of sleep until I woke up ravenous hungry. So unfair. I know it must be strange, but I get really frustrated with growling stomachs. I don't mind eating, I obviously really enjoy it, but I want it to be on my schedule. I love the planning and the making of something that I have never made, or something that I know I make well, and I'll enjoy it to it's fullest. To have my stomach say "Now" seems rude to me.

Oh well. I think the computer has made my eyes sleepy enough and this blog has gotten a bit of the day's excitement out of me, so hopefully I can fall back to sleep before the sun comes up. I hope I have time for an apple.

Leaping Lizards!

My dog is laying on her white over sized dog rug and is staring intently at my husband's shoe. Typically this amount of concentration is focused on a treat of telling one of us that it is time for a walk. Acceptable objects to stare at: said treat, leash, open door, any person controlling those items. Unacceptable: brown shoe. Especially after the lessons of the week.

One of the perks of living in Texas are all of the fun critters that hang around in and outside of the house. Infestations rotate with the seasons. Most would probably say that their least favorite event is cricket season. For me, it's the junebugs, followed closely by the web worms. I guess I'm not a fan of insects that are or were white worms that eat the leaves off my trees and the roots of my grass. Ugh! How could I have forgotten about the mosquitoes?

However, I am a big fan of hummingbirds, mockingbirds, egrets, blue herons, butterflies, ladybugs, frogs, grass snakes and lizards. There is a little pink house gecko that particularly likes our house. They blend in very well with the mottled red and pink colored brick. Leave the porch light on and you have provided a banquet for them. They are there every night during the summer and I still get a thrill when I spot one of those little guys.

Recently they have gotten a little too comfortable around the house. 2 nights in a row now they have run inside when I opened up the back door. 3 in total have graced our walls. 2 left with their tails. I have always felt a bit bad when they drop their tails. We're not going to eat them and they might have just given up their escape route from a real predator. The wiggling tail did provide much entertainment for Coco. Ugh.

All 3 were caught by my husband and released into the backyard. I thought one of them might have been a repeat visitor, but it was hard to tell. Small and pink is really all you see as they speed acoss the walls.

I guess I have to see what Jane is staring at. I really hope it's a ladybug.

Nope. Giant hairy spider.

When I moved the shoe to see what was there, the spider jumped out onto Jane's bed. The spider jumped, Jane jumped, I jumped and Coco ran out of the room. I was hopeful that maybe the spider could catch a junebug, so I dragged the bed out to the deck and ran back into the house. I really did not think it was necessary for the spider to charge up towards me. At least it didn't jump again.

Fire Hydrant

When I was 6 years old, I wanted to name my first child "Fire Hydrant", I got my first bicycle and I was still too scared to climb to the top of the jungle gym rocketship at the park. This was also about the time when I had my last bowl of Mom's Taco Salad.


I picked out the bike with my Dad and his wife. I can still remember going to one of the 'Marts and finding the bike I wanted from the top shelf. Why anyone would think that it was okay to store bikes above one's head I just don't get. The bike was to be my birthday present and so was not bought right then. Unfortunately, it was gone when they returned for it and the pink one was replaced by a slightly larger red one. It took me a little while to grow into it, but once I did, mobility was mine!

My next bike was also a gift. One of my uncles won it with a lucky seat at a kid's matinee. The bike must have been too small for him and he was visiting from Alabama, so I became the lucky owner. It was a black and grey Mongoose. I remember riding around on one other bike (it had a banana seat and was appropriately yellow), but I outgrew it, too. Longer legs put an end to my biking career.

That is, until today. My husband took me to one of the 'Marts and I picked out my bike. I knew it was the one before I got anywhere close to it. It's the perfect shade of lemongrass. I got a new seat because my seat appreciates a little extra padding and not having a saddle wedging up it. It has speed controls and brakes on the handles, all of which is new technology for me. There is also a luggage rack on the back. Large enough for a lunch, way too small for any of my luggage.


I was feeling pretty nostalgic at the 'Mart, which is probably what caused inspiration to strike. I knew there was only one thing that I could make for dinner tonight. This also meant that contraband had to be bought. I checked sodium levels on everything, and then took Karl's wants into consideration. Maybe I'll try the baked Doritos next time. Ranch Style Beans were a bit tricky to pick out. All of the other beans have a picture of what is inside of the can. Ranch Style has a black label that infers you only want these beans if you know what you are doing. Karl reminded me of my southern roots, and then I knew we would be alright.

The following recipe is messy deliciousness.

Taco Salad:

1 small bag Doritos per person (unless you are eating with Karl, then he gets 2)
1 can Ranch Style Beans
1 Avocado
Lettuce
1/2 lb Ground Beef
Taco Seasoning

These are your basic components. Some people turn the avocado into guacamole and use it like you would a ceasar dressing. I prefer avocado chunks. Some may also prefer to use the entire can of beans. My preference is to drain it off some. Mrs. Dash Fiesta Lime is an excellent sodium free taco seasoning alternative. If you use the ground beef, please be good to your heart and use grass fed.

Cook the ground beef with taco seasoning. Layer in a bowl, Doritos, beans, avocado, chopped lettuce, and taco meat. Perportions are pretty much up to you. Serve immediately. If dining later, add the Doritos in when you are ready to eat.

Any other ingredients such as sour cream, cheese, onions, hot sauce, etc. is up to you.

Day 2:

Biking is harder than I remembered. I thought the hill in front of our house would be fun, not a potential deathtrap. As long as turning and breaking are not required, then I am almost okay at this. I thought the wind in my hair would be exhilerating. Instead it has been my signal that I am going too fast. Or that the wind is up. Either way, a good excuse to take a break. I think this is going to take a little practice. I will not let this be another jungle gym rocketship.

Babysitting

All day long I carry around a baby. It has no gender, weighs 3 to 5 lbs, and screams when dropped.

It is always on my shoulder or hip, causing enough back trouble to justify almost daily trips to the chiropractor. I have to keep it cold, have to keep it clean, have to change it once a day. Once a month special supplies are ordered just for it. The supplies take up lots of prime real estate in my modest home, no matter where I put them. There are always remnants of them around the house, which serve as a constant reminder of my little burden. I am constantly paying medical and insurance bills for it. I take all of it's blood tests, I undergo it's procedures, I take all of the calls from the nurses who are checking in on it.

The tie that binds us is an important one. It is a direct link to my heart. And still, I slam it in the car door, kink it, pull on it till I bleed, catch it on doorknobs. Our link also means that I have to tend to myself every 3 days to a week. Infection is the silent threat. Showers are complicated, stressful and quick. I miss when they were easy, sexy and luxurious. The baby is never allowed to get wet and neither is our connection, so full submersion is just a dream.

People that haven't seen me in awhile are always surprised that I have a baby. They tend to pity the life change in a kind and sympathetic way. I pretty much want to talk about anything else even though the baby is the main constant in my life. I never have any time away from it. My husband helps but cannot fully take over its care. The baby insists on sleeping with us, but thankfully, under a pillow. Still, there is no denying that there is something else in bed with us. Especially since it snores.

My body has undergone many changes since I have had my baby. My curvy parts are inches lower than they had been, my hair is coarser, I have a varicose vein on the front of my knee. I have a couple of small abdominal hernias that have caused my ego a little pain. My skin feels and looks different. I am grateful that my husband seems to be blind to all of this and just sees me. I wish I could do the same for myself.

Some days my baby makes me so happy that I can do anything. Other days I'm exhausted and laid out on the couch. Both extremes are so different that people who have only witnessed one mood cannot imagine me any other way. For some I am always tired. For others I am inexhaustible. The latter has a hard time understanding how I am not out conquering the world every day. The changes can be subtle, which is the worst. Either I feel mildly crazy for not wanting to move or I do not realize that the down time has past and it's time to jump out into the world again.

My mother and my family have been very supportive. My mother has taken on several of my responsibilities, which has given me much relief. My family rallies during emergencies and has been very forgiving when I am too tired to visit or too forgetful to call. One more thing that has been hard to forgive myself for, especially knowing how often they have remembered me in their prayers.

Every two years I attend a conference for people who have babies like or similar to mine. Lots of seminars hosted by people who do not have babies telling us how to handle them. They are also the ones providing the food for the conference, which is fine for them, but inappropriate for struggling moms. Some of the sessions are lead by mothers like me, but even though we all have children, all of our relationships with our babies are very different from one another.

The baby does bring a fresh breathe of air into my life and I have been able to do many things since I have had it. But still, I wish I didn't need it so. I miss my freedom.

The Tree Whisperer

I have always seen myself as shy, awkward and reclusive. Apparently the world has seen differently. I have reconnected with several people from my teenage years recently and their memory of me is totally different from mine. Descriptions of my personality vary, the only constant has been the length of my legs.

I had lunch earlier today with someone that I hadn't seen in 15 years. It had been more years than that since we had spent any length of time together. That person gave a description of my younger self that was determined and independent and, embarrassingly, love obsessed and of course naive. It's always surprising to me how a person's actions can be seen as so different from what one is actually feeling. I guess 'never let them see you sweat' is more true than I realized. Unless you tell someone that you are uncomfortable, they may never know. This holds true for both physical and mental discomforts.

My Wise Woman of the Day award goes to my chiropractor. Of course she's fabulous, as are all of the women in my life, ... wow. I had never thought of that before. Okay, points to me for surrounding myself with the fabulous. Anyways, I have become more of the person that I want to be because of her. And again, wow, that seems to be my theme for the summer. Surrounding myself with fabulous people that have helped to reshape my self-perception and live my life in a way that I have always hoped for. Best summer ever!

So back to the chiropractor. The back adjustments have made amazing improvements to my endurance. I am now able to do several things in a day that used to take me a week to accomplish. She also has a treadmill available for me, so I now have the most awesome running shoes ever. They have blue stripes and Nimbus 3000 is written in tiny script on the sides. My chiropractor has done wonders for my heart. She keeps setting goals for speed and distance, I keep accomplishing them ahead of schedule. I was telling her how I loved the program she put together for me - simple but effective. She said she pretty much just says to herself at the beginning of each session "How is Honey going to kick butt today?" That doesn't really sound like a mantra assigned to a meek person.

I have many times been inspired by the impassioned stories of other people. Someone describing a favorite hobby, tradition, job, vacation, whatever. Every time it happens I want to go out and have a similar experience. Not that I really want to kill a deer. But listen to a true hunter (not the drunk lazy kind) tell the story of a kill, where they went, tracking the deer, finally finding it and how it looked standing in the trees, how they felt at that moment (usually a bit humble and prayerful), I kind of would like to be along. Or maybe it's that I want to have a chance to nudge the gun in a different direction at the last second.

I'm convinced that simply being passionate about your own life is the key to inspiring others. Everyone wants to love their own life. I think we're all just looking for a way to tell our own story. Obviously I have found one way to do it. I think a person should go out into the world and do things that they want to be able to tell stories about. Strangely, the things that I want most to do in the world are things that I want to keep private for myself. When I'm with other people I love to talk, but I think I may love more hearing their story. Sometimes I feel like a cheerleader to the world, wanting the best for everyone, hoping that they see the best in themselves, hoping that they do the best thing for themselves and for others.

Myself, I could spend a lifetime staring a trees. Not a lot of banter in that. But that's when my moments of being overwhelmed in world happen.
"What did you do today?"
"I sat in a rocking chair on the deck and stared at my garden for an hour."
"So I was hunting the other day..."

Marco

Written on 07.24.10

Today I went wading. I waded through ocean waves, a swimming pool and lots of wet towels and swimsuits. I had the best time. I know my enjoyment of it all has a lot to do with me just enjoying life, but the two women and two girls I was with made it unforgettable.

I am in Galveston with my grandmother, mother, my cousin & her friend. The two girls are 9 and 11 years old. Earlier today we took the ferry over to Bolivar. Highlights included the excitement of the girls being on a ferry and seeing dolphins jumping in front of a tanker. I had to wonder if they were trying to lead the tanker safely to dock or if they were hoping to beach it.

I was amazed that we found the right road to the beach that we had always used. The road is barely marked and everything looks different since the hurricane. The girls were in the water before the van came to a full stop. It took me another 15 minutes to join them because I was wrapping myself up in cellophane. Not in a sexy way.

I have to admit to being a bit scared of the ocean. I absolutely love it, but I am also absolutely terrified of what lurks beneath. Sharks and stingrays and crabs, oh my! I really wanted to get wet, so I also had to get brave. I shuffled my way out into the waves because I think shuffling helps to scare away the stingrays. The sand is like dunes under the water, and with every dip I would pause, feel around with one foot and then would continue forward. After doing this several times, I finally got used to being brave and barely hesitated before walking into the abyss. I got all the way out to where the water reached above my knees. Victory was mine!

Mom and the girls jumped into the waves, laughed, would ride them in a little bit and then jump back into them again. I did the granny squat and would jump up at the last second so I could keep all of my gear dry. I was almost one of the girls. I did get to laugh with them and I most definitely enjoyed watching them have a good time. My grandmother stayed back in the van with all of the doors opened and rested while enjoying the sound of the waves.

Highlights for the ferry ride back included walking to the top deck of the ferry with the girls and being flirted with by a ferryman. I must also give many thanks here for oblivious little girls that demanded my attention away from the ferryman's attentions.

Back at the hotel the girls made a mad dash and splash for the pool. I took a shower (the adult thing to do) and then joined the girls. I reclined while they did flips, double flips and handstands in the water. We also sampled different pools. Our hotel has two. One has a giant toadstool that showers down water into the pool, the other has a rock fountain. The rock fountain was decidedly the better pool. Lots more swimming ensued.

Several swimsuit changes had happened by now (seriously, how many did they bring?) and the balcony was brightly dressed in small two-pieces and oversized beach towels. More swimming after dinner had been promised and the girls were adamant that they could comfortably eat dinner in their suits. After soaking my seat, I became adamant that they use a towel under their bums. Mom's pants also bared the mark of a wet couch. It got her twice.

By the time we made it outside, the pool lights were on and there were lots more kids splashing about. I had to join in. Okay, I was in the shallows, but I still got to watch. The water was lovely and cool. I was sitting on a ramp that led gently down into the water. I know that I should have been thankful for getting to do even that much, but I couldn't help thinking of a line from a movie talking about how we want it all. Not in the material way, but in the experience way. It's wonderful that I get to recline in the pool, but I want to dive. That's when I remembered what one of the girls asked me earlier. “What have you always wanted to do that you've never done?” I said skydiving, she said walk on the moon. Then she said, “Okay, now imagine you're doing it.” She started moving through the water at an exaggeratedly slow speed. I was laying on a long beach chair, so I lifted my arms above my head. She walked on the moon, and I soared through the sky. After remembering this, my imaginings of diving were quite satisfying. As an added bonus, I didn't have to wash my hair again.

A large group of kids playing Marco Polo pulled me out of my daydreaming. This is a game that I didn't like so much when I was their age. Something about people trying to evade you that bothered me. Now I see it a bit differently. I like that you are going on faith that you can close your eyes, call out in the darkness and know that your friends are waiting for you to find them. Soon my friends all joined me and we went inside, anxious for both sleep, happy dreams and more swimming tomorrow.