Playing Catch Up

You remember the trailer to the Flintstone's where Fred is desperately running on the treadmill? Well, that's what I feel like life is like. Sometimes the treadmill is turned on low and it isn't difficult to keep up, but other times it is switched on hyper drive.

I think there are some people that thrive on being busy. They love the activity level of scurrying around from here to there. I am not one of those people. I like long unbroken periods of quiet, reflective time. I am drawn to houses with those wide, covered porches. I picture afternoons reading and evenings chatting with friends and family with a glass of fresh lemonade or wine or hot chocolate.

So I am doing my best right now not to get flung off the treadmill and so far I am succeeding, although things like a blog post keeps getting shuffled to the bottom of the to-do list.

Quick update: Had a very brief but enjoyable trip to Oahu. Waikiki was too populated for me and traffic was intense, but a much more peaceful feeling was reached outside of the main cities.
Five airports later arrived in Albuquerque for a wedding and catching up with family. It was great to see everyone.

Now it's our turn to host family for our daughter's wedding and I am having to keep and update lists and jog with occasional bursts of outright running lest I go sailing. But at least I have a porch (albeit narrow) and a chilling bottle of wine. Cheers.

Books That Waste Your Time

Fairly frequently I start a book, get a few chapters into it and decide it's not interesting enough to continue. Since I started this challenge, however, I was reluctant to do this, thinking I was already halfway into it and I wasn't sure if I would have enough time to read the 50 I committed to, so I forced myself to finish them.

Not this week. In fact, I started two books that had a cuteish idea but really not enough substance for an entire book. One was about a guy that went all over the world to sample all the different kinds of oysters. Now wishing I were an oyster lover, I checked it out from the library, eager to be entranced. Sadly this did not happen. While I still want to try them again, (no I never do learn my lesson) the descriptions he used over and over was sweet and briny, and I got about halfway through the book and thought, "this should have been a short essay, not a book."

The other book was a guy writing about his experiences working in upscale retail. Selling handbags. Once again, not enough material for a book. Once again I stopped halfway. While he was a little amusing, his use of language veered too much into the four letter category for my taste. And seriously folks, how much is there to say about rich women buying expensive purses? Oh, yeah, in the upscale handbag world the word 'purses' is outlawed. So now you know.

The exciting reason that I didn't have to finish these books was I will easily surpass the fifty book mark by my fiftieth birthday. The other categories I doubt, and I'm not sure how much I will even try at this point.

Here's my take on that:
1. I made the rules and I can break them!
2. Entering stupid contests just gives everyone your email address
3. Entering important contests takes $$ and a lot of time
4. Trying to measure what you've learned is impossible unless you take some sort of course
5. It is really hard to find 50 things I've never eaten.
6. It is great fun going to 50 new places, so I'm off to Oahu where I'm sure to add to this category!!

Bye.

The Big Move

Late Saturday afternoon we moved the chickens into their new home. It was fairly easy to catch the first two, but then word got out and the other ten huddled out of reach, squawking and flapping their wings, requiring much kneeling in poop and entering a two foot high cage (by my husband) to catch the rest. We carried them two by two, then four by four in their original plastic tote condo (two joined together with a pass-through) and set them free in chicken heaven--their new outdoor space. It is ten by twenty feet and a little ramp access chicken door leads to their indoor house, which is nine by six with four nesting boxes and a two-level perch.

They loved the outdoor space but avoided the ramp and the ominous dark space beyond like they'd seen it on an episode of the Twilight Zone. It was getting late and we were beyond tired. Like all parents we were anxious for them to go to bed. We hung their old heat lamp in hopes that it would be a familiar and comforting sight and act as a chicken night light but when that didn't work we resorted to chasing them again and heaving them in. Gently, of course. And then we spent the rest of the evening worrying that they were flailing about crushing each other. We set the clock for five a.m. and went out and opened the chicken door to let them out. They were sound asleep but made an appearance later that morning. That night it took awhile but all of them made it inside without any aerobics on our part. A peaceful night was had by all.

A Class Act

So it was to be an evening of culture and education. A night of discussion about the impact of digital media on filmmaking. We were there early and decided to have a drink in the bar. One minute I was walking and the next I was fighting for balance, as my left foot slid left, and my right one went God knows where. For a brief minute of suspended animation I thought I was safe. Then gravity kicked in and I went down. Hard. There was a collective gasp from the other bar patrons, as I hurried to my feet and pretended I was okay. I could only thank God that my little name tag that said, "Hello, my name is..." was hidden by my jacket. And truly folks this happened before the complimentary wine reception at the end of the evening.

The rest of the evening found my mind wandering to how I could fit that scene into my writing. Weird, but that's what you do when you're a writer. Incorporate your life into your fiction. However, I usually prefer the laughs to be at someone else's expense. But hey, you take your material where you find it and run with it.

Arches and Weddings

I just returned from the beautiful wedding of my niece and new nephew in St. Louis where I hope the wild night of dancing balanced out the nonstop intake of delicious food and adult beverages, but I'm not stepping on the scale to find out.

We also ventured into space, or at least it felt like it, by ascending the St. Louis arch. What an engineering marvel, but definitely not for the phobics of the world. The little windowless round pod that seats five urchins comfortably or five humans uncomfortably whisks you to the top in four minutes, so you can peer out the angled windows at the vista below. The sight out the windows is beautiful; the sight of seventy rear ends leaning in an arched row is less so, but rather funny.

And we followed that up with a Cardinals baseball game where they showed off for us West Coasters by hitting a grand slam in the seventh inning. All in all an enjoyable trip.

Green, Yellow and White

I walked through a typical grocery store produce aisle the other day and realized that I had tried almost all of them. That is either a pretty good feat or an indication that our grocery store has a limited selection. I choose to believe the former.

So I decided to peek at the cheese counter although I am on what I refer to as a dairy light diet. I would probably do better to be on a dairy free diet, but what can I say? I love cheese. So I try to be judicious about amounts and frequency and then listen to my body.

I chose something called Asadero, which was milky colored and mild and --I'm sorry Asadero makers--rather boring. I also picked a French Mimolette which was much more interesting. A medium sharp flavor that went well with one of my all time favorite red wines, Menage a Trois. Don't be fooled by the risque name, this is a wine you can drink in public.

Tonight I will experiment with mustard greens. I'm thinking of caramelizing some onion, then wilting or sauteing the greens. And a dash of kosher salt, then taste and adjust seasonings as necessary.

Long Time No Write

Beware all of you crazy people out there who want to set yourself a goal of doing something big. It is hard. Or rather, it is hard if you think you want to have your normal routines at the same time.

Life and chickens have a way of getting in your way. These little guys are growing quickly, and I have a sneaking suspicion that most of them are male. And that breaks my heart because they are two of my favorites. The one pictured above seems to like us a lot (maybe not after tonight!) and is always curious when we approach them. By the way, they are now being housed in the garage as they were getting too big for the Rubbermaid totes and yet our weather is still way too cold for them to survive outdoor temperatures.

Anyway, when I set myself this task of doing 50 things from a variety of lists, I thought, "I can do this. It would be about 1 a week." But real life has a way of getting in the way of the best of plans. Maybe you're tired, or busy or just have an overall case of the Ida wannas.

Whatever it is, I am rapidly approaching the halfway mark and I am nowhere near halfway on mostly all of my lists. Hmm.

On the plus side, I have no doubt at all that I will indeed read fifty books by my fiftieth birthday. And that, at least, is an achievment I can be proud of. The rest-we'll have to see. I still have six months. Wish me luck!