Still Sore
E2 is not the least bit sore from the marathon. I, on the other hand, am still cringing with each step that I must take up and down the stairs at work.
So much for being the supportive friend with an easy run... [grin]
In other news, in case you hadn't seen the pics yet, It's truly a Party of 3 for lucky_girl and M. Go check the little dude out.
August 4, 2008
Quotes from the weekend
The leaders are on their way back across the golden gate bridge
-The announcer, before they started our wave of runners at the San Francisco Marathon.
That was the easiest half marathon I've ever done in my life
-E2, impressively strong and disciplined at the halfway point on her first marathon
I'm TOTALLY IN SHAPE!!!! I can't believe I just ran 23 miles!!!
-A girl E2 and I passed at mile 23, she sounded very surprised at herself and very proud as she screamed and laughed with her friend.
Yes, this is easier than the long training runs, but I don't have much left in me
-E2, at mile 24 or so, immediately before she picked up the pace to force me to run the two fastest finishing miles I've ever run at a marathon.
This is *awesome*. I could live here, just like I could live at Costco.
-A kid, looking down on the atrium of the San Francisco Hyatt Regency from the glass elevators as we rode up them to our hotel room for a post-race shower.
I don't even go to the halfs anymore
-E, at lunch with E2's parents and J. When we discussed that this was my 4th marathon and I've got a 5th planned for December. I don't really remember when I decided to become a *marathon* runner. But I guess it happened.
The leaders are on their way back across the golden gate bridge
-The announcer, before they started our wave of runners at the San Francisco Marathon.
That was the easiest half marathon I've ever done in my life
-E2, impressively strong and disciplined at the halfway point on her first marathon
I'm TOTALLY IN SHAPE!!!! I can't believe I just ran 23 miles!!!
-A girl E2 and I passed at mile 23, she sounded very surprised at herself and very proud as she screamed and laughed with her friend.
Yes, this is easier than the long training runs, but I don't have much left in me
-E2, at mile 24 or so, immediately before she picked up the pace to force me to run the two fastest finishing miles I've ever run at a marathon.
This is *awesome*. I could live here, just like I could live at Costco.
-A kid, looking down on the atrium of the San Francisco Hyatt Regency from the glass elevators as we rode up them to our hotel room for a post-race shower.
I don't even go to the halfs anymore
-E, at lunch with E2's parents and J. When we discussed that this was my 4th marathon and I've got a 5th planned for December. I don't really remember when I decided to become a *marathon* runner. But I guess it happened.
July 29, 2008
That's what you get
Of course, two days after I post about my newfound zen-like take on the world I get another bout of insomnia powered by anxious thoughts and feelings to show that I'm not really rolling with the punches so much as taking body blows and suffering the associated after-effects.
The flavor I suffer wakes me up at 3:30 or 4 AM and my racing mutinous brain won't let my body go back to sleep, if at all, 'til after 6 AM.
Awesome.
Of course, two days after I post about my newfound zen-like take on the world I get another bout of insomnia powered by anxious thoughts and feelings to show that I'm not really rolling with the punches so much as taking body blows and suffering the associated after-effects.
The flavor I suffer wakes me up at 3:30 or 4 AM and my racing mutinous brain won't let my body go back to sleep, if at all, 'til after 6 AM.
Awesome.
July 27, 2008
Elusive Beauty
Sometimes, life throws more than what seems to be your fair share of shit at you. All in one week, or month, or whatever. I'm not in that spot right now, but I'm playing a supporting role to a few people in my life who are and I can't help but feel for them and also wish them well in getting through their obstacles. As Daddy always said,
Life's not fair kid. Get used to it.
My New Year's resolution this year was to roll with the punches and be more relaxed.
The first half of the year I didn't do an awesome job of keeping my New Year's Resolution. But I tried. And ever since Japan, I'm shocked to find that I have more perspective. I'm getting better at letting things go (Which means I'm still way behind the average mature adult. Think indignant high schooler).
I've been an intellectual studier of Zen Buddhism for at least 14 years now. This means I read Zen books and try to apply the principles to my life without meditation, koans, or sesshins. The closest I ever get to those is yoga, running, progressive relaxation, attempted mindful breath-awareness in moments of stress, and brief tourist meditation at some temples in Asia.
Clearly, my Zen practice is not what any Dharma master would recommend.
Rather than join a local Zen center (and there are a few, so I really have no excuse) and have a practice focused by one teacher, I have chosen to meander my way through some of the classic Zen texts (or rather, some of the ones available in English).
But, it wasn't until I started reading books by
Charlotte Joko Beck that Zen really started to make sense in my daily life. I turned the pages of Everyday Zen: Love and Work for at least 3 successive readings straight through. I'd pick it up before bed on days when I needed some calm and read my way through a short vignette/lecture which often made me think long and hard about my life and how I saw things.
Recently, I started making my way through Nothing Special: Living Zen and I'm so pleased to find that I'm in a place where the first time I read her short lectures I understand and relate to her words much more easily than I once did.
I have to assume that this easier understanding of the Zen way of life is connected to how I seem to be doing a better job of rolling with the punches and accepting life for what it is. And, so, in celebration of that, I present to you Okra flowers:
Several weeks ago, E called me to tell me that there was an okra flower and it was gorgeous. By the time I arrived home, it had wilted. Again, a few days later, we went through the same paces. Eventually, we realized that these bursts of color (which must die for the fruit to form) bloom quickly after I leave for work, and lead a short 5-6 hour life in full bloom before retreating to a closed and quickly wilting form before I arrive home.
Finally, after several weeks of work and weekend travel, this weekend, we were home, and I was able to witness them. I think I must have enjoyed my first sighting significantly more than E enjoyed his.
I can't help but suspect there is some sort of Zen lesson to be learned from this.
Sometimes, life throws more than what seems to be your fair share of shit at you. All in one week, or month, or whatever. I'm not in that spot right now, but I'm playing a supporting role to a few people in my life who are and I can't help but feel for them and also wish them well in getting through their obstacles. As Daddy always said,
Life's not fair kid. Get used to it.
My New Year's resolution this year was to roll with the punches and be more relaxed.
The first half of the year I didn't do an awesome job of keeping my New Year's Resolution. But I tried. And ever since Japan, I'm shocked to find that I have more perspective. I'm getting better at letting things go (Which means I'm still way behind the average mature adult. Think indignant high schooler).
I've been an intellectual studier of Zen Buddhism for at least 14 years now. This means I read Zen books and try to apply the principles to my life without meditation, koans, or sesshins. The closest I ever get to those is yoga, running, progressive relaxation, attempted mindful breath-awareness in moments of stress, and brief tourist meditation at some temples in Asia.
Clearly, my Zen practice is not what any Dharma master would recommend.
Rather than join a local Zen center (and there are a few, so I really have no excuse) and have a practice focused by one teacher, I have chosen to meander my way through some of the classic Zen texts (or rather, some of the ones available in English).
But, it wasn't until I started reading books by
Charlotte Joko Beck that Zen really started to make sense in my daily life. I turned the pages of Everyday Zen: Love and Work for at least 3 successive readings straight through. I'd pick it up before bed on days when I needed some calm and read my way through a short vignette/lecture which often made me think long and hard about my life and how I saw things.
Recently, I started making my way through Nothing Special: Living Zen and I'm so pleased to find that I'm in a place where the first time I read her short lectures I understand and relate to her words much more easily than I once did.
I have to assume that this easier understanding of the Zen way of life is connected to how I seem to be doing a better job of rolling with the punches and accepting life for what it is. And, so, in celebration of that, I present to you Okra flowers:
Several weeks ago, E called me to tell me that there was an okra flower and it was gorgeous. By the time I arrived home, it had wilted. Again, a few days later, we went through the same paces. Eventually, we realized that these bursts of color (which must die for the fruit to form) bloom quickly after I leave for work, and lead a short 5-6 hour life in full bloom before retreating to a closed and quickly wilting form before I arrive home.
Finally, after several weeks of work and weekend travel, this weekend, we were home, and I was able to witness them. I think I must have enjoyed my first sighting significantly more than E enjoyed his.
I can't help but suspect there is some sort of Zen lesson to be learned from this.
July 23, 2008
Summer Girl
Summer has always been my favorite season.
I love the sun. The late bedtimes. The feeling that it's always almost time to relax and have a barbeque. But, I must say, tomatoes have become one of my favorite things about summer:
All but the three huge professional-looking heirlooms came from our garden. I am SO proud.
Also, the one lonely okra on the left is to show that our okra from seeds experiment was successful. We managed to grow at least one, and if the buds are to be believed, several more are in the wings.
Foodwise, I may love autumn harvest more than summer foods, but seasonally speaking -- I love the heat, the sun and the tomatoes. And, in the midst of family drama, work drama, and all of that jazz, the calm and slowly evolving life of our garden (especially the tomatoes) brings me more joy this summer than I could have imagined.
Summer has always been my favorite season.
I love the sun. The late bedtimes. The feeling that it's always almost time to relax and have a barbeque. But, I must say, tomatoes have become one of my favorite things about summer:
All but the three huge professional-looking heirlooms came from our garden. I am SO proud.
Also, the one lonely okra on the left is to show that our okra from seeds experiment was successful. We managed to grow at least one, and if the buds are to be believed, several more are in the wings.
Foodwise, I may love autumn harvest more than summer foods, but seasonally speaking -- I love the heat, the sun and the tomatoes. And, in the midst of family drama, work drama, and all of that jazz, the calm and slowly evolving life of our garden (especially the tomatoes) brings me more joy this summer than I could have imagined.
July 18, 2008
Cultural Surprise
Tonight, in Washington DC, E and I went to the rehearsal dinner for a longtime childhood friend of his.
Historically, the south has felt glutinous, but not like home.
E always said I was raised to be a southerner's wife. And, I never knew what he meant. But tonight, I got it. Everything felt comfortable.
The strangers (and long-time between last visit people), they followed polite patterns that put me at ease (which involved presenting their names in case I had forgotten them, which, of *course* I had, if I had even had the pleasure of meeting them, previously).
Everyone agreed upon topics of conversation and the sarcasm was limited to a point where you could count upon the people with whom you were interacting to be either (i) sincere; (ii) slightly, cleverly, and amusingly sardonic; or (iii) obviously out for something like blood that had nothing to do with you that you could sidestep.
I liked the categorical distinctions. I knew where I belonged. Oddly, I found myself feeling more at home in this huge social event full of strangers than I had 3 nights prior at a law-firm summer associate dinner at a partner's house, where the rules were not so rigid, I was surrounded by my coworkers and should have been comfortable. There, based on social cues, I couldn't always guess where people were coming from or headed.
Now there's nothing left but tons of leftover work, a somewhat formal wedding ceremony in a big catholic church (which, also, oddly, is likely to make me feel comfortable, due to my Lutheran upbringing), and of course, interacting with a bunch of people I don't know in the high temperatures while E's family waits in the wings for some time with us.
There is no reason I can think of that explains why I should feel comfortable here. And yet, finally, after years of feeling lost when we visit the South, I do. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I am grateful for E's mom's appreciation and social graces towards us today. We started planning a big international vacation with E's sister this afternoon, so obviously, it's amazing to see her.
After all the struggle and frustration about how much the California girl didn't fit in the South, it finally plays out that, at least this time, she fits here, among strangers, better than she does at home. Who knew?
Tonight, in Washington DC, E and I went to the rehearsal dinner for a longtime childhood friend of his.
Historically, the south has felt glutinous, but not like home.
E always said I was raised to be a southerner's wife. And, I never knew what he meant. But tonight, I got it. Everything felt comfortable.
The strangers (and long-time between last visit people), they followed polite patterns that put me at ease (which involved presenting their names in case I had forgotten them, which, of *course* I had, if I had even had the pleasure of meeting them, previously).
Everyone agreed upon topics of conversation and the sarcasm was limited to a point where you could count upon the people with whom you were interacting to be either (i) sincere; (ii) slightly, cleverly, and amusingly sardonic; or (iii) obviously out for something like blood that had nothing to do with you that you could sidestep.
I liked the categorical distinctions. I knew where I belonged. Oddly, I found myself feeling more at home in this huge social event full of strangers than I had 3 nights prior at a law-firm summer associate dinner at a partner's house, where the rules were not so rigid, I was surrounded by my coworkers and should have been comfortable. There, based on social cues, I couldn't always guess where people were coming from or headed.
Now there's nothing left but tons of leftover work, a somewhat formal wedding ceremony in a big catholic church (which, also, oddly, is likely to make me feel comfortable, due to my Lutheran upbringing), and of course, interacting with a bunch of people I don't know in the high temperatures while E's family waits in the wings for some time with us.
There is no reason I can think of that explains why I should feel comfortable here. And yet, finally, after years of feeling lost when we visit the South, I do. I'm looking forward to tomorrow. I am grateful for E's mom's appreciation and social graces towards us today. We started planning a big international vacation with E's sister this afternoon, so obviously, it's amazing to see her.
After all the struggle and frustration about how much the California girl didn't fit in the South, it finally plays out that, at least this time, she fits here, among strangers, better than she does at home. Who knew?
July 14, 2008
First Harvest
E says the word "Harvest" sounds like "genocide" to our plants. He's probably right.
Regardless, I don't feel the tiniest twinge of guilt despite eating about 10 cherry tomatoes and eagerly awaiting the final ripening of Mr. Stripey's firstborn:
As of last week, the garden as a whole looked like this:
Which is good, because we've successfully managed to control the fungus that infected 6 of our 7 tomato plants. We trimmed leaves. We fertilized. We sprayed antifungal. We switched to an every-other-day watering plan. And, thankfully, although they are a bit sparse for the wear, they seem to be doing much better. At last count we have somewhere around 150 tomatoes waiting to ripen. How exciting!!!
The earliest producer of the group was the squash. Over the last couple of weeks, we've picked about 7 great fruits like these:
The first meal was sautéed squash in a sage in browned butter sauce over whole wheat penne topped with black pepper and grated parmigiano reggiano:
And the lesson we've learned is that it's best to pick them when they are still pale yellow. Apparently, the darker the rind, the thicker the rind.
Speaking of thick rinds, this dark yellow rind (an early developing fruit before we realized we should pick earlier) did a reasonable job of protecting its important reproductive portions from our local raccoon (I was still grumpy that we wouldn't get to eat it):
Remember the Okra from seeds experiment? Well, several of the non-culled survivors have grown to full-fledged plants that have and will continue to flower, and should (hopefully) bear many fruits:
And finally, my fascination with the biology of the cucumber continues, unabated. It has grown from the tiny seedling, to the clutching, wrapping vining monster, to a fully trellised plant with a wingspan greater than 5 feet:
E and I shared the first cucumber with some store-bought tomatoes and we agreed it was amazing and we couldn't wait for its siblings. Thankfully, after a few weeks of fallen flowers, the female flowers are now producing over-grown ovaries like no-one's business. The babies look like this (look at the appendage attached to the unbloomed flower on the left):
And, they grow, very quickly to look like this (note the fully bloomed and wilted flower at the far end for scale):
We've got several proto-cukes and we can't wait to enjoy them with the tomatoes, which are coming ever-so-slowly closer to being ripe each day.
Tonight's garden-inspired dinner was a first course of sliced black krim (from the farmer's market, ours are not yet ready) topped with olive oil, aged balsamic, basil and lemon thyme; followed by a second course of habanero, yellow crook-neck squash bisque that cleared my sinuses but was quite a delicious non-recipe invention, if I do say so myself.
E says the word "Harvest" sounds like "genocide" to our plants. He's probably right.
Regardless, I don't feel the tiniest twinge of guilt despite eating about 10 cherry tomatoes and eagerly awaiting the final ripening of Mr. Stripey's firstborn:
As of last week, the garden as a whole looked like this:
Which is good, because we've successfully managed to control the fungus that infected 6 of our 7 tomato plants. We trimmed leaves. We fertilized. We sprayed antifungal. We switched to an every-other-day watering plan. And, thankfully, although they are a bit sparse for the wear, they seem to be doing much better. At last count we have somewhere around 150 tomatoes waiting to ripen. How exciting!!!
The earliest producer of the group was the squash. Over the last couple of weeks, we've picked about 7 great fruits like these:
The first meal was sautéed squash in a sage in browned butter sauce over whole wheat penne topped with black pepper and grated parmigiano reggiano:
And the lesson we've learned is that it's best to pick them when they are still pale yellow. Apparently, the darker the rind, the thicker the rind.
Speaking of thick rinds, this dark yellow rind (an early developing fruit before we realized we should pick earlier) did a reasonable job of protecting its important reproductive portions from our local raccoon (I was still grumpy that we wouldn't get to eat it):
Remember the Okra from seeds experiment? Well, several of the non-culled survivors have grown to full-fledged plants that have and will continue to flower, and should (hopefully) bear many fruits:
And finally, my fascination with the biology of the cucumber continues, unabated. It has grown from the tiny seedling, to the clutching, wrapping vining monster, to a fully trellised plant with a wingspan greater than 5 feet:
E and I shared the first cucumber with some store-bought tomatoes and we agreed it was amazing and we couldn't wait for its siblings. Thankfully, after a few weeks of fallen flowers, the female flowers are now producing over-grown ovaries like no-one's business. The babies look like this (look at the appendage attached to the unbloomed flower on the left):
And, they grow, very quickly to look like this (note the fully bloomed and wilted flower at the far end for scale):
We've got several proto-cukes and we can't wait to enjoy them with the tomatoes, which are coming ever-so-slowly closer to being ripe each day.
Tonight's garden-inspired dinner was a first course of sliced black krim (from the farmer's market, ours are not yet ready) topped with olive oil, aged balsamic, basil and lemon thyme; followed by a second course of habanero, yellow crook-neck squash bisque that cleared my sinuses but was quite a delicious non-recipe invention, if I do say so myself.
July 13, 2008
Reinvigorated
Ever since my last marathon, I've been somewhat uncommitted to running. Exercise in general, really. The required weekly yoga has become more of an option that we might take. Sometimes I replace it with yoga at work, which is an awesome benefit, but geared toward the whole workplace and so not quite as strenuous as the DVDs we do at home.
Basically, I've been quick to let life get in the way of my scheduled miles and other workouts.
This is rather dim-witted of me, seeing as how I'm scheduled to do The San Francisco Marathon with E2.
We agreed upon a Jeff Galloway-inspired, but built for those who don't have too much time training program. The weekly goals are two medium length runs, one shorter run (ideally, speed training, but it hasn't really happened for me), and a long run-walk of various miles.
I've cut long runs where I'm on my own short by 20%. I've skipped medium length runs. I've replaced speed training with leisurely short jogs. My average pace has declined steadily. In other words, I haven't been training so much as going through the motions.
The week before Ensenada, I did the mortal marathon training sin and skipped my long run because I had too much work to finish before we left for vacation. Between work and packing, I got 3 hours and 20 minutes of sleep the night before our flight and I kept working until the car arrived to take us to the airport. Clearly, there was no time to get up and do the scheduled 13-15 miles.
But then, in Baja, something happened. After a little over 2 months of lackluster commitment to running, on vacation, I rediscovered my love for the pounding feet. Each day, I slept 'til I couldn't anymore (often 10 hours) and then, when I woke, I'd lace up the shoes for a leisurely run along the bay, pounding surf, and dry sunny inlands for a total of 4-5 miles (all but one day with Nish, who I let pick the pace so we could comfortably gossip, chat, and catch up on each other's lives). When we returned home, I was surprised to realize that when given my choice on how to allocate my time without obligations, I'd choose to run for six days straight.
On the Sunday after our return, E2 and I did our scheduled long run of just short of 21 miles. And it hurt. The weekly total was 43.12 (compared with less than 13 the week before). Despite the running, I had brought approximately 5 pounds of Mexico back with me and my body was not too thrilled with the serious increase in loading from all forces (distance and gravity being the frontrunners). Monday, I limped up the stairs at work. Tuesday, I continued to recover.
Wednesday, I acknowledged that the race was less than a month away and if I was going to be in any shape to complete it, I couldn't miss any more miles. So, I forced myself to do 6 after work. It felt good, but labored. Thursday, I went our for a quick 3 only to realize that I am not quick anymore. Friday, despite feeling as if I needed a day off, I forced myself to do another slow 6.
I felt as if I was running because I had to. I had a marathon to run, so I didn't really have a choice.
Saturday, I got up and tried to drive to E2. I got lost. Not once, but twice. I can only assume it was my subconscious self rebelling against the idea of the scheduled 24 miles. I've *never* done 24 miles in prep for a marathon. And, I'd never been this out of shape this close to a marathon. So, I was fairly certain it was going to suck.
Thankfully, the weather cooperated. It was overcast and cool until halfway through, at which point it was gorgeously clear and breezy. We struggled through the 24 miles, run-walking and taking breaks as we felt it was necessary for an average pace of 12:04.
At least once every 5 minutes during the final 10 miles I reminded myself that I should exercise restraint over the next two weeks with respect to eating -- you know, so my knees wouldn't be so fucking pissed at me on the actual race day. And then, finally, yet somehow earlier than either of us expected, it was all over. We'd finished the 24 miles -- the longest training run I'd ever done. We walked to the burrito joint and placed our orders as the stinkiest people in the joint.
I came home sore, with tight and angry hamstrings. After a long shower, I headed to the nail salon for a pedicure (mmm...massage chair, hand-massaged feet and calves).
But, what did I take to read at the salon? The Runner's World from last month that I never got around to reading. I sat there, getting pushed and prodded and kneaded into relaxation and found myself inspired by the stories of Olympic Trial competitors Alicia Shay (widow of Ryan Shay, who died during the Olympic Trials for the men's marathon) and Gabe Jennings, the cocky, complicated renaissance man.
I returned from the salon to look up their results at the trials and was saddened to see that Alicia had pulled out of the trials for her event due to an injury and that Gabe, in typical flamboyant fashion, had captivated hearts with his wins at the quarterfinals and semifinals only to completely lose it and place last with a substantially worse time than either of the prelims in the finals. As my high school gymnastics coach often said, "You never want to win the warmups."
Today, as often happens when I push myself with my runs, my legs woke me before I would have liked -- grumpy, tight, and painful. After a morning of the farmer's market (tomatoes!!!!), dim sum with friends, a visit to the Computer History Museum for the Babbage exhibit, and some gardening, I was exhausted.
So, imagine my surprise when I found myself on the couch, immersed in the second unread issue of Runner's World on our coffee table. I earmarked a few training programs. I started to look at future races and think about the second half of the year and how I wanted to structure my training and racing.
I was shocked to realize that somehow, I'm excited about running again. I can't wait to push myself to regain speed over the taper weeks between now and the marathon. I did a slow 24, so I know we can finish, but just how fast, and how easy it will be on my body is up to me and how I treat myself over the next few weeks. Also, I'm excited about upcoming racing options (my favorite half marathon is every fall) and all of a sudden, I can't wait to start planning.
For my last marathon, I think my mental interest and preparation for racing peaked at the half marathon I ran about a month before the marathon. For each mile of the half I wanted to go faster, I wanted to fly. I had fun running, and I felt strong. But the remainder of my training after that was hard to fit in against life. I found myself getting most of the scheduled mileage under my feet without any specific emotional drive other than commitment to finish what I'd started.
This time, it's the opposite. The first 3/4 of the training was about finishing what I'd committed to do and supporting E2 in training for and running her first marathon. But, now, after two consecutive 40+ mile weeks on a body that's heavier than it ordinarily is, I find myself emotionally driven and committed, which surprises me.
I guess, my friends, this is why I register for races, make a training schedule, and stick to it as best I can. Worst case scenario I'll get in some workouts, possibly even some long runs with friends (which I cherish), and, at a minimum, I should be able to finish the race. But, best case scenario, I just may surprise myself.
So, basically, I'm surprised to realize that I can't wait for fall race season, which thanks to E2's request for a summer marathon training buddy, I'll be in shape for! Yay!
Ever since my last marathon, I've been somewhat uncommitted to running. Exercise in general, really. The required weekly yoga has become more of an option that we might take. Sometimes I replace it with yoga at work, which is an awesome benefit, but geared toward the whole workplace and so not quite as strenuous as the DVDs we do at home.
Basically, I've been quick to let life get in the way of my scheduled miles and other workouts.
This is rather dim-witted of me, seeing as how I'm scheduled to do The San Francisco Marathon with E2.
We agreed upon a Jeff Galloway-inspired, but built for those who don't have too much time training program. The weekly goals are two medium length runs, one shorter run (ideally, speed training, but it hasn't really happened for me), and a long run-walk of various miles.
I've cut long runs where I'm on my own short by 20%. I've skipped medium length runs. I've replaced speed training with leisurely short jogs. My average pace has declined steadily. In other words, I haven't been training so much as going through the motions.
The week before Ensenada, I did the mortal marathon training sin and skipped my long run because I had too much work to finish before we left for vacation. Between work and packing, I got 3 hours and 20 minutes of sleep the night before our flight and I kept working until the car arrived to take us to the airport. Clearly, there was no time to get up and do the scheduled 13-15 miles.
But then, in Baja, something happened. After a little over 2 months of lackluster commitment to running, on vacation, I rediscovered my love for the pounding feet. Each day, I slept 'til I couldn't anymore (often 10 hours) and then, when I woke, I'd lace up the shoes for a leisurely run along the bay, pounding surf, and dry sunny inlands for a total of 4-5 miles (all but one day with Nish, who I let pick the pace so we could comfortably gossip, chat, and catch up on each other's lives). When we returned home, I was surprised to realize that when given my choice on how to allocate my time without obligations, I'd choose to run for six days straight.
On the Sunday after our return, E2 and I did our scheduled long run of just short of 21 miles. And it hurt. The weekly total was 43.12 (compared with less than 13 the week before). Despite the running, I had brought approximately 5 pounds of Mexico back with me and my body was not too thrilled with the serious increase in loading from all forces (distance and gravity being the frontrunners). Monday, I limped up the stairs at work. Tuesday, I continued to recover.
Wednesday, I acknowledged that the race was less than a month away and if I was going to be in any shape to complete it, I couldn't miss any more miles. So, I forced myself to do 6 after work. It felt good, but labored. Thursday, I went our for a quick 3 only to realize that I am not quick anymore. Friday, despite feeling as if I needed a day off, I forced myself to do another slow 6.
I felt as if I was running because I had to. I had a marathon to run, so I didn't really have a choice.
Saturday, I got up and tried to drive to E2. I got lost. Not once, but twice. I can only assume it was my subconscious self rebelling against the idea of the scheduled 24 miles. I've *never* done 24 miles in prep for a marathon. And, I'd never been this out of shape this close to a marathon. So, I was fairly certain it was going to suck.
Thankfully, the weather cooperated. It was overcast and cool until halfway through, at which point it was gorgeously clear and breezy. We struggled through the 24 miles, run-walking and taking breaks as we felt it was necessary for an average pace of 12:04.
At least once every 5 minutes during the final 10 miles I reminded myself that I should exercise restraint over the next two weeks with respect to eating -- you know, so my knees wouldn't be so fucking pissed at me on the actual race day. And then, finally, yet somehow earlier than either of us expected, it was all over. We'd finished the 24 miles -- the longest training run I'd ever done. We walked to the burrito joint and placed our orders as the stinkiest people in the joint.
I came home sore, with tight and angry hamstrings. After a long shower, I headed to the nail salon for a pedicure (mmm...massage chair, hand-massaged feet and calves).
But, what did I take to read at the salon? The Runner's World from last month that I never got around to reading. I sat there, getting pushed and prodded and kneaded into relaxation and found myself inspired by the stories of Olympic Trial competitors Alicia Shay (widow of Ryan Shay, who died during the Olympic Trials for the men's marathon) and Gabe Jennings, the cocky, complicated renaissance man.
I returned from the salon to look up their results at the trials and was saddened to see that Alicia had pulled out of the trials for her event due to an injury and that Gabe, in typical flamboyant fashion, had captivated hearts with his wins at the quarterfinals and semifinals only to completely lose it and place last with a substantially worse time than either of the prelims in the finals. As my high school gymnastics coach often said, "You never want to win the warmups."
Today, as often happens when I push myself with my runs, my legs woke me before I would have liked -- grumpy, tight, and painful. After a morning of the farmer's market (tomatoes!!!!), dim sum with friends, a visit to the Computer History Museum for the Babbage exhibit, and some gardening, I was exhausted.
So, imagine my surprise when I found myself on the couch, immersed in the second unread issue of Runner's World on our coffee table. I earmarked a few training programs. I started to look at future races and think about the second half of the year and how I wanted to structure my training and racing.
I was shocked to realize that somehow, I'm excited about running again. I can't wait to push myself to regain speed over the taper weeks between now and the marathon. I did a slow 24, so I know we can finish, but just how fast, and how easy it will be on my body is up to me and how I treat myself over the next few weeks. Also, I'm excited about upcoming racing options (my favorite half marathon is every fall) and all of a sudden, I can't wait to start planning.
For my last marathon, I think my mental interest and preparation for racing peaked at the half marathon I ran about a month before the marathon. For each mile of the half I wanted to go faster, I wanted to fly. I had fun running, and I felt strong. But the remainder of my training after that was hard to fit in against life. I found myself getting most of the scheduled mileage under my feet without any specific emotional drive other than commitment to finish what I'd started.
This time, it's the opposite. The first 3/4 of the training was about finishing what I'd committed to do and supporting E2 in training for and running her first marathon. But, now, after two consecutive 40+ mile weeks on a body that's heavier than it ordinarily is, I find myself emotionally driven and committed, which surprises me.
I guess, my friends, this is why I register for races, make a training schedule, and stick to it as best I can. Worst case scenario I'll get in some workouts, possibly even some long runs with friends (which I cherish), and, at a minimum, I should be able to finish the race. But, best case scenario, I just may surprise myself.
So, basically, I'm surprised to realize that I can't wait for fall race season, which thanks to E2's request for a summer marathon training buddy, I'll be in shape for! Yay!
July 8, 2008
Black Letter Law
A client asked a question that has me reading cases tonight.
And there, at page 29 of Kozinski's majority en banc opinion in Fair Housing Council v. Roomates.com (April 3, 2008), I find this jewel on CDA Section 230 (c) immunity for website operators:
The message is clear: if you don't encourage illegal content, or design your website to require users to input illegal content, you will be immune.
Where were the gloriously clear black-letter holdings like this, when I was in law school?
Sure, I'm gonna finish the full 54 page opinion and try to struggle through the nuances. And, yes, I will know more about this area of the law than I did when I started reading this thing. But, a clear concise statement of the take-home message that can fit in a fortune cookie -- if I were in charge, this would be required in all published cases.
A client asked a question that has me reading cases tonight.
And there, at page 29 of Kozinski's majority en banc opinion in Fair Housing Council v. Roomates.com (April 3, 2008), I find this jewel on CDA Section 230 (c) immunity for website operators:
The message is clear: if you don't encourage illegal content, or design your website to require users to input illegal content, you will be immune.
Where were the gloriously clear black-letter holdings like this, when I was in law school?
Sure, I'm gonna finish the full 54 page opinion and try to struggle through the nuances. And, yes, I will know more about this area of the law than I did when I started reading this thing. But, a clear concise statement of the take-home message that can fit in a fortune cookie -- if I were in charge, this would be required in all published cases.
July 7, 2008
Vacation Remnants
Today was an easy day at work. I left early, came home and started to attack the to-do list that always seems to be growing.
Safeway somehow managed to fail to sell me half of the groceries I took to the counter (at least they didn't charge me). So, I spent the second half of the evening reconstructing the groceries that I intended to purchase, and how, between unloading the cart and the scanning process, while I was off getting charcoal and lighter fluid for BBQ they did something with them (What would the grocery-man want with my eggs, spaghetti squash, cauliflower, cucumbers, and tomatoes?).
So, I came home and resigned myself to the reality that the Universe did not want me back into the full swing of things.
Instead, I lightly stretched my super-sore legs (21 miles with E2 on Sunday and I'm in *serious* pain!), and finished my latest vacation book (#13):
Skinny Dip
It was like a young adult mystery. I felt as if I were reading a Nancy Drew tale combined with a Sweet Valley High. It was gloriously tantilizing, simple, fast-paced, and sucked me in and away from the mundane realities of my just-back-from-vacation-shock.
All-in-all, I sincerely enjoyed it, and if you are looking for a good beach read, Or just a good hot-weather escape (it's set in Everglades), I highly recommend it to you as well.
Today was an easy day at work. I left early, came home and started to attack the to-do list that always seems to be growing.
Safeway somehow managed to fail to sell me half of the groceries I took to the counter (at least they didn't charge me). So, I spent the second half of the evening reconstructing the groceries that I intended to purchase, and how, between unloading the cart and the scanning process, while I was off getting charcoal and lighter fluid for BBQ they did something with them (What would the grocery-man want with my eggs, spaghetti squash, cauliflower, cucumbers, and tomatoes?).
So, I came home and resigned myself to the reality that the Universe did not want me back into the full swing of things.
Instead, I lightly stretched my super-sore legs (21 miles with E2 on Sunday and I'm in *serious* pain!), and finished my latest vacation book (#13):
Skinny Dip
It was like a young adult mystery. I felt as if I were reading a Nancy Drew tale combined with a Sweet Valley High. It was gloriously tantilizing, simple, fast-paced, and sucked me in and away from the mundane realities of my just-back-from-vacation-shock.
All-in-all, I sincerely enjoyed it, and if you are looking for a good beach read, Or just a good hot-weather escape (it's set in Everglades), I highly recommend it to you as well.
July 5, 2008
Laja
The culinary shining star of our trip was our visit to Laja.
The reviews are mixed, but I was pleased to find that I disagreed with those who had negative things to say and we all enjoyed ourselves to the fullest.
First, you drive a lazy, slow, picturesque (for the most part) hour from Ensenada, through the commercial fishing town of El Sauzal and up through the mountains on the Ruta del Vino (aka Mex 3 towards tecate).
Then, you arrive, abruptly at the restaurant, a sign on the freeway simple says "LAJA" and points to the left. Off the road, you turn through the entrance to park in front a white hacienda style building with huge rosemary plants and a cactus garden framing the stairs to the front door. Because we were early, we walked through the orchards and let the front-yard garden entertain us as Nish identified all the trees and the rest of us took turns identifying the items in the garden (E and I had fun comparing their rows of squash and zucchini to our one plant).
When you enter, you are greeted immediately by a friendly Spanish-looking man who gives you your selection of the available tables. The decor is open and airy. Vaulted ceilings, windows galore, each facing different gardens, vines, or hills, and the furniture was simple but gorgeous rough wood tables and chairs, stained to a medium dark polish. If we ever have a house with space for a large dining table, I'd like the one in the middle of that room -- it looked so focused on feeding.
The napkins and plates are all white, the glasswear clear and sturdier than you'd get at a restaurant of this quality in the U.S, and the cutlery was equally practical, including the well-balanced Laguiole steak knife with the tell-tale fly at the pressure point.
After perusing the paper menu (printed with a computer and stapled together), we all opted for the Chef's tasting menu. 8 courses. No amuse bouches or palate cleansers. Additionally, the a la carte menu contained only 2 additional courses that you could choose from, so why bother?
This place is much more rustic than some of the write-ups would lead you to believe. It is on a dirt road. It is relatively small. The wine list is mainly (if not entirely, I didn't spend too much time reading it as I opted for the wine pairing and let the experts decide) made up of local Valle de Guadalupe selections. There are no easily recognizable big name (and big price tag) wines.
The plating is perfectly gorgeous, both in visual presentation of the food as well as selection of the type of geometric (although never garishly so) dish to use. The service is informal, but pleasant and responsive, and we were never wanting for anything.
The sparse (but natural and well-matched to the surrounding nature) decor, as well as the minimalism in the food offerings and the commitment to local wine are the types of things, I suspect, that have led to the mixed reviews. The Chef comes from a four seasons and San Francisco big name restaurant background. If you come looking for that same experience, you will likely be disappointed.
But, if you are looking for an amazing, fresh meal experience that displays the character of northern baja, look no further.
The Tasting Menu
-Beet Gazpacho with thin slices of steamed crabapples floating on top (or very tart apples of some sort, or perhaps pickled apples) (paired with a local white that wasn't particularly memorable).
-Field greens (grown out front) and yellow pear and red cherry tomatoes (grown out back) in a simple vinaigrette (paired with a better white than the first, a slightly heavier chenin blanc and sauvignon blanc blend, I believe).
-Homemade wide flat noodles topped with a simple sauce of olive oil, a hint of garlic, mandolin-sliced and perfectly cooked fresh light green zucchini (from the front garden), and small specks of a bright green herb that had very little taste (I will be trying to make this one with some of our basil). This course was the favorite of half of the group (and was paired with a delicious Monte Xanic chenin blanc colombard blend)
-4 small Fresh tuna slices over a tart bright green sauce (paired with a sweet cool sangiovese rosé)
-Filet of cod with the skin on over a deliciously light potato puree (paired with a very light merlot, served chilled).
-A light, very juicy lamb preparation of 1 rib, two quarter-sized medalions, and a slightly spiced stewed preparation. (paired with a blend of cabernet sauvignon and another grape -- perhaps tempranillo?)
-3 sorbets. One carrot-orange, the other two unidentifiable blends of local fruits.
-Delicious light vanilla ice milk with an apricot tart -- ahhh, the amazing mexican pastry tradition meets the French in this dessert. This was my favorite course. And I don't even like apricots that much and I rarely love dessert. But this just was the epitome of the taste of summer vacation to end a perfectly languid 2.5 hour meal with friends.
The culinary shining star of our trip was our visit to Laja.
The reviews are mixed, but I was pleased to find that I disagreed with those who had negative things to say and we all enjoyed ourselves to the fullest.
First, you drive a lazy, slow, picturesque (for the most part) hour from Ensenada, through the commercial fishing town of El Sauzal and up through the mountains on the Ruta del Vino (aka Mex 3 towards tecate).
Then, you arrive, abruptly at the restaurant, a sign on the freeway simple says "LAJA" and points to the left. Off the road, you turn through the entrance to park in front a white hacienda style building with huge rosemary plants and a cactus garden framing the stairs to the front door. Because we were early, we walked through the orchards and let the front-yard garden entertain us as Nish identified all the trees and the rest of us took turns identifying the items in the garden (E and I had fun comparing their rows of squash and zucchini to our one plant).
When you enter, you are greeted immediately by a friendly Spanish-looking man who gives you your selection of the available tables. The decor is open and airy. Vaulted ceilings, windows galore, each facing different gardens, vines, or hills, and the furniture was simple but gorgeous rough wood tables and chairs, stained to a medium dark polish. If we ever have a house with space for a large dining table, I'd like the one in the middle of that room -- it looked so focused on feeding.
The napkins and plates are all white, the glasswear clear and sturdier than you'd get at a restaurant of this quality in the U.S, and the cutlery was equally practical, including the well-balanced Laguiole steak knife with the tell-tale fly at the pressure point.
After perusing the paper menu (printed with a computer and stapled together), we all opted for the Chef's tasting menu. 8 courses. No amuse bouches or palate cleansers. Additionally, the a la carte menu contained only 2 additional courses that you could choose from, so why bother?
This place is much more rustic than some of the write-ups would lead you to believe. It is on a dirt road. It is relatively small. The wine list is mainly (if not entirely, I didn't spend too much time reading it as I opted for the wine pairing and let the experts decide) made up of local Valle de Guadalupe selections. There are no easily recognizable big name (and big price tag) wines.
The plating is perfectly gorgeous, both in visual presentation of the food as well as selection of the type of geometric (although never garishly so) dish to use. The service is informal, but pleasant and responsive, and we were never wanting for anything.
The sparse (but natural and well-matched to the surrounding nature) decor, as well as the minimalism in the food offerings and the commitment to local wine are the types of things, I suspect, that have led to the mixed reviews. The Chef comes from a four seasons and San Francisco big name restaurant background. If you come looking for that same experience, you will likely be disappointed.
But, if you are looking for an amazing, fresh meal experience that displays the character of northern baja, look no further.
The Tasting Menu
-Beet Gazpacho with thin slices of steamed crabapples floating on top (or very tart apples of some sort, or perhaps pickled apples) (paired with a local white that wasn't particularly memorable).
-Field greens (grown out front) and yellow pear and red cherry tomatoes (grown out back) in a simple vinaigrette (paired with a better white than the first, a slightly heavier chenin blanc and sauvignon blanc blend, I believe).
-Homemade wide flat noodles topped with a simple sauce of olive oil, a hint of garlic, mandolin-sliced and perfectly cooked fresh light green zucchini (from the front garden), and small specks of a bright green herb that had very little taste (I will be trying to make this one with some of our basil). This course was the favorite of half of the group (and was paired with a delicious Monte Xanic chenin blanc colombard blend)
-4 small Fresh tuna slices over a tart bright green sauce (paired with a sweet cool sangiovese rosé)
-Filet of cod with the skin on over a deliciously light potato puree (paired with a very light merlot, served chilled).
-A light, very juicy lamb preparation of 1 rib, two quarter-sized medalions, and a slightly spiced stewed preparation. (paired with a blend of cabernet sauvignon and another grape -- perhaps tempranillo?)
-3 sorbets. One carrot-orange, the other two unidentifiable blends of local fruits.
-Delicious light vanilla ice milk with an apricot tart -- ahhh, the amazing mexican pastry tradition meets the French in this dessert. This was my favorite course. And I don't even like apricots that much and I rarely love dessert. But this just was the epitome of the taste of summer vacation to end a perfectly languid 2.5 hour meal with friends.
July 4, 2008
Ensenada: Food and Drink Notes
If you are in California and looking for a budget vacation with great food, I highly recommend Ensenada.
We drove across the border from San Diego during Sunday afternoon and it was a pleasant 2 hour trip. You have to drive from somewhere as there is no airport other than the navy base, but eliminating the flight component from a week long vacation decreases the cost substantially. Add the decreased cost of living and you've got a budget vacation without any real effort.
But the food -- what a wonderful surprise. I expected to be happy because Mexican food is one of my favorite types of food. But I've been more than happy -- I've been almost overwhelmed with food pleasure. Although we've almost been here a week, the variety in Mexican food and flavors that are available have led each of us to be satiated and none of us have yet to tire of the fabulous options.
The first meal, we parked on the small street that leads from the Mex 1 to where we are staying and we walked about a mile. It was Sunday and many stores were closed but we couldn't help but be excited about the options we would have this week.
Eventually, we sat at one of the open air tamale stands and ate ourselves silly on delicious tamales de res y tamales de pollo. The owner plucked each tamale straight from the huge steamer pot and placed them on paper plates where we eagerly untied the tightly tied husks to find deliciously tender masa and wonderfully spiced meat, with a potato added for good measure in the beef offering. I also bought a jar of pickled small yellow peppers mmmm....
From there, we crossed the street and our eyes and noses dragged us into the restaurant with a huge rotating wheel of 10 or so spits turning over a driftwood fire inside an open brick oven. Dos Pollos $140. Los Hermanos it's called -- the logo shows two happy pigs (presumably brothers) sweating in their sombreros inside a pot over a fire. We had a few carnitas tacos (delicious) and discussed the brilliance of their menu offering of la paquetta, which for $220 appeared to be a meal for 8 -- 1 kilo of meat, guacamole, 3 types of salsa, chopped white onions, cilantro, radishes, picked red onions, rice, beans, and a huge stack of corn tortillas from the tortilleria next door. Each day we discuss whether tonight will be the night we go for this option. You know, and whether we should also buy a chicken for good measure...
That first night, we hit the local grocery store to stock up: potatoes, eggs, jalapenos (so *hot* my lips were burning for hours after I cooked with them), some unknown other type of chili that looked like giant habaneros but were tasty and mild, pickled jalapenos and carrots from the deli, nopales, bacon, queso fresco, avacodos ($14 pesos a kilo!), tomatoes (so much tastier than what we can get in this season at home), beer, makings for margaritas, limes, tostadas, chips, beans, hot sauce, and salsa verde. Each morning, Nish and I leisurely compose some form of breakfast from these ingredients to tide us over until our next meal.
One morning, AW came back from his AM walk with pastries from one of the local bakeries. Mmmm... so delicious and buttery without being overly sweet!
Two days ago, we went back to the grocery store for reinforcements to acquire replacements for the few things we'd completely devoured. However, AW had one new item to add to the list -- he wanted chorizo. "It's vacation food," he informed me. "Nish doesn't let me eat it normally because it's so unhealthy."
Nish and I stood in front of the chorizo display and finally, we settled on a single tube of chorizo de cerdo which looked particularly appetizing. However, after a consultation with E, we agreed that perhaps we needed two tubes. So, we put the single tube down and purchased the double tube to its left.
Imagine our surprise yesterday morning to find the label on the double tube read,
Chorizo de Soya
Thankfully, the second ingredient was grasa de cerdo (aka lard) so we weren't in too much trouble, but us Californians were quite amused at the soy-lard combo, which clearly isn't vegetarian friendly, and probably isn't that much healthier than the original. The best guess we could come up with is that it stretches the meat further, which, for once, was a use of soy in a meat-replacement product that E could get behind. For the record, the soy chorizo was actually quite tasty, although I suspect AW will silently never forgive us for missing his one big chance at the real thing before he and Nish move to New York.
Another food highlight was the deep-fried fish tacos by the docks at 8 pesos each. Mmmmm.... it's what Ensenada is famous for, and for good reason. So tasty, fried to order and not too greasy, so many salsas to select from, it's heaven. Like the paquetta, this is another option we regularly discuss as to whether we'll be going back for more. The problem there is that it's downtown, near the cruise ships and full of all of the hawking, yelling, tourist crap, and annoyance that we successfully avoid by staying outside of town. Given that Ensenada is supposedly the least border-town-ish of the border towns, I can say with conviction that I would not enjoy a visit to Tijuana or Rosarito, which, supposedly, make this chaos, debauchery, and peddling look like nothing.
In truth, we haven't had a bad meal yet, although AW and nish did end up with some unidentified organ meat concoction as one of their selections at a Mexico-city-style lunch restaurant offering clay pots of various meat preparations. That was one of the few times on this trip when all of our plates weren't cleaned completely, but we agreed that even though we only enjoyed 3 of the 4 selections of meat (the birria and unidentified spicy stewed pork were amazing, the mole was okay), given the 10 handmade tortillas, beans, rice, salsas and drinks (jamaica for me, 1 coke in a glass bottle and two bottled waters), that lunch was still a steal for a total of less than $110 pesos.
As for drinks, it's what you'd expect, with one twist. Coke has sugar and not corn syrup and thus is a popular option for both E and AW. Bottled water is a necessity as the water in our condo is salty (even in the shower!) and filled with who-knows-what that white film on the bottom of the pan when we boil it is. And, in contrast to the water, it's almost impossible to get a bad margarita, and the beers are always fresh, cold, and light.
The twist is the wine. North of ensenada is a wine region known as the Valle Guadalupe. The oldest winery in Mexico is Santo Thomas, and their winery offers brief tours and tastings. The whites all have an unfortunate common funkiness to them. But several of the heavier reds are quite nice. We bought a bottle of the cabernet sauvignon to enjoy at home. We had plans to go winetasting in the valley, but Mexico-time took over and that plan never really materialized. That's okay, though, since we were able to sample several of the local products with our amazing meal at Laja restaurant (which will get its own post, later).
So, yeah. In our typical true-relaxation vacation style, we've spent time and effort on flavor and food-related adventures, and we've put very little effort into anything else.
If you are in California and looking for a budget vacation with great food, I highly recommend Ensenada.
We drove across the border from San Diego during Sunday afternoon and it was a pleasant 2 hour trip. You have to drive from somewhere as there is no airport other than the navy base, but eliminating the flight component from a week long vacation decreases the cost substantially. Add the decreased cost of living and you've got a budget vacation without any real effort.
But the food -- what a wonderful surprise. I expected to be happy because Mexican food is one of my favorite types of food. But I've been more than happy -- I've been almost overwhelmed with food pleasure. Although we've almost been here a week, the variety in Mexican food and flavors that are available have led each of us to be satiated and none of us have yet to tire of the fabulous options.
The first meal, we parked on the small street that leads from the Mex 1 to where we are staying and we walked about a mile. It was Sunday and many stores were closed but we couldn't help but be excited about the options we would have this week.
Eventually, we sat at one of the open air tamale stands and ate ourselves silly on delicious tamales de res y tamales de pollo. The owner plucked each tamale straight from the huge steamer pot and placed them on paper plates where we eagerly untied the tightly tied husks to find deliciously tender masa and wonderfully spiced meat, with a potato added for good measure in the beef offering. I also bought a jar of pickled small yellow peppers mmmm....
From there, we crossed the street and our eyes and noses dragged us into the restaurant with a huge rotating wheel of 10 or so spits turning over a driftwood fire inside an open brick oven. Dos Pollos $140. Los Hermanos it's called -- the logo shows two happy pigs (presumably brothers) sweating in their sombreros inside a pot over a fire. We had a few carnitas tacos (delicious) and discussed the brilliance of their menu offering of la paquetta, which for $220 appeared to be a meal for 8 -- 1 kilo of meat, guacamole, 3 types of salsa, chopped white onions, cilantro, radishes, picked red onions, rice, beans, and a huge stack of corn tortillas from the tortilleria next door. Each day we discuss whether tonight will be the night we go for this option. You know, and whether we should also buy a chicken for good measure...
That first night, we hit the local grocery store to stock up: potatoes, eggs, jalapenos (so *hot* my lips were burning for hours after I cooked with them), some unknown other type of chili that looked like giant habaneros but were tasty and mild, pickled jalapenos and carrots from the deli, nopales, bacon, queso fresco, avacodos ($14 pesos a kilo!), tomatoes (so much tastier than what we can get in this season at home), beer, makings for margaritas, limes, tostadas, chips, beans, hot sauce, and salsa verde. Each morning, Nish and I leisurely compose some form of breakfast from these ingredients to tide us over until our next meal.
One morning, AW came back from his AM walk with pastries from one of the local bakeries. Mmmm... so delicious and buttery without being overly sweet!
Two days ago, we went back to the grocery store for reinforcements to acquire replacements for the few things we'd completely devoured. However, AW had one new item to add to the list -- he wanted chorizo. "It's vacation food," he informed me. "Nish doesn't let me eat it normally because it's so unhealthy."
Nish and I stood in front of the chorizo display and finally, we settled on a single tube of chorizo de cerdo which looked particularly appetizing. However, after a consultation with E, we agreed that perhaps we needed two tubes. So, we put the single tube down and purchased the double tube to its left.
Imagine our surprise yesterday morning to find the label on the double tube read,
Chorizo de Soya
Thankfully, the second ingredient was grasa de cerdo (aka lard) so we weren't in too much trouble, but us Californians were quite amused at the soy-lard combo, which clearly isn't vegetarian friendly, and probably isn't that much healthier than the original. The best guess we could come up with is that it stretches the meat further, which, for once, was a use of soy in a meat-replacement product that E could get behind. For the record, the soy chorizo was actually quite tasty, although I suspect AW will silently never forgive us for missing his one big chance at the real thing before he and Nish move to New York.
Another food highlight was the deep-fried fish tacos by the docks at 8 pesos each. Mmmmm.... it's what Ensenada is famous for, and for good reason. So tasty, fried to order and not too greasy, so many salsas to select from, it's heaven. Like the paquetta, this is another option we regularly discuss as to whether we'll be going back for more. The problem there is that it's downtown, near the cruise ships and full of all of the hawking, yelling, tourist crap, and annoyance that we successfully avoid by staying outside of town. Given that Ensenada is supposedly the least border-town-ish of the border towns, I can say with conviction that I would not enjoy a visit to Tijuana or Rosarito, which, supposedly, make this chaos, debauchery, and peddling look like nothing.
In truth, we haven't had a bad meal yet, although AW and nish did end up with some unidentified organ meat concoction as one of their selections at a Mexico-city-style lunch restaurant offering clay pots of various meat preparations. That was one of the few times on this trip when all of our plates weren't cleaned completely, but we agreed that even though we only enjoyed 3 of the 4 selections of meat (the birria and unidentified spicy stewed pork were amazing, the mole was okay), given the 10 handmade tortillas, beans, rice, salsas and drinks (jamaica for me, 1 coke in a glass bottle and two bottled waters), that lunch was still a steal for a total of less than $110 pesos.
As for drinks, it's what you'd expect, with one twist. Coke has sugar and not corn syrup and thus is a popular option for both E and AW. Bottled water is a necessity as the water in our condo is salty (even in the shower!) and filled with who-knows-what that white film on the bottom of the pan when we boil it is. And, in contrast to the water, it's almost impossible to get a bad margarita, and the beers are always fresh, cold, and light.
The twist is the wine. North of ensenada is a wine region known as the Valle Guadalupe. The oldest winery in Mexico is Santo Thomas, and their winery offers brief tours and tastings. The whites all have an unfortunate common funkiness to them. But several of the heavier reds are quite nice. We bought a bottle of the cabernet sauvignon to enjoy at home. We had plans to go winetasting in the valley, but Mexico-time took over and that plan never really materialized. That's okay, though, since we were able to sample several of the local products with our amazing meal at Laja restaurant (which will get its own post, later).
So, yeah. In our typical true-relaxation vacation style, we've spent time and effort on flavor and food-related adventures, and we've put very little effort into anything else.
July 3, 2008
Cohetes
*Boom* As E2 once said, this is the most celebratinist most country in the world.... I'm just going to type *Boom* every time I hear an explosion to give you some perspective.
Every time we've come to Mexico in the past, E claimed he wanted to buy a metric fuck-ton of fireworks and set them off. I *Boom* think I never really thought it through, because if I had, I'd know it wasn't an idle statement.
At one time, the mostly empty trailer parkish resort where we are staying was apparently a full-blown RV, camping, mixed-use party, complete with a lion and a monkey (this is the story we've heard from the locals). *Boom*
It appears that over time, things have calmed down: the monkey (who used to only like men and peed on women) and the lion, both sadly died. Also, some of the residents have converted their lots to permanent structures for the summer portion of their retirements, but at least half of the residences appear to remain somewhat mobile.
Alas, it is no longer the bustling, *Boom* party-friendly, partial zoo that it once was. So, they have tons of open space along the ocean. Not to mention the fact that the security *Boom* seem to expect you to set off fireworks every night, and starting tonight, they even have a stand that sells fireworks on site. Every night we've been here, at least half of our neighbors have taken advantage of these facts to put on a show.
Predictably, every night after the first night, after we heard and saw the snap, crackles and pops, the boys have found a way (cleverly, *Boom* each time we head back from town, they somehow find a reason to stop the car and ask if they can walk the remainder of the way back to the condo...) to obtain explosive goodies.
The first night they went shopping, they set off a large stick of what appeared to be miniature dynamite by the house before it was even dark. *BOOM!!!* It ripped the 2 gallon water bottle where they set it off into pieces. And that was without the lid on. They claim this is the coolest thing they've done so far... The security came and questioned us and I was summoned. It was the darndest thing... my Spanish suddenly got much worse and I couldn't really answer any of their questions...
Since then, we've made friends with the folks who are camping in front of our rented condo because they too are pyromaniacs. *Boom* Every night, the two girls, aged 11 and 9 or so run around in circles while screaming and laughing as burnt embers from the fireworks they've just lit rain down around them. They make fun of us because we are too cautious... Don't be scared... says the big, often laughing Mom, and then she laughs her big laugh and says, Bush isn't watching....
We've joined their fun each night. *Boom*
The boys have purchased two sets of bottle rockets that have sucked in two unique ways -- the first just failed to explode very well, the second exploded quite well, about 1 foot in the air and 1 second after being lit. *Crack-crack-crack* Nish and I are currently trying to make the case that the remainder of this set should be dunked in the sink and thrown out.
The boys seem to agree, but that is now, while they are satiated from the hour of fun they just had with our camping neighbor's display and their own contribution of 2 huge rockets of high-exploding color, another one of the world's largest bottle-rocket-esque rockets on a stick exploding 40 feet over the pounding surf, and 7 plastic winged abejas (which, if lit on a flat space and if luck and the wind are in your favor, hover and rise in an alternating pattern of color to finally shoot a random tangent of orange sparks at the pinnacle approximately 30 feet in the air). *Boom* I fear that later they will want to try the bottle-rockets-of-death again despite the last failure where E appeared to be running from gunfire.
Tonight's crowd of revelers was easily double the number of yesterday's. *Boom!*
And, as E just said in response to the most recent boom... This is the 3rd. Tomorrow is going to be insane!
***COHETES!***
*Boom* As E2 once said, this is the most celebratinist most country in the world.... I'm just going to type *Boom* every time I hear an explosion to give you some perspective.
Every time we've come to Mexico in the past, E claimed he wanted to buy a metric fuck-ton of fireworks and set them off. I *Boom* think I never really thought it through, because if I had, I'd know it wasn't an idle statement.
At one time, the mostly empty trailer parkish resort where we are staying was apparently a full-blown RV, camping, mixed-use party, complete with a lion and a monkey (this is the story we've heard from the locals). *Boom*
It appears that over time, things have calmed down: the monkey (who used to only like men and peed on women) and the lion, both sadly died. Also, some of the residents have converted their lots to permanent structures for the summer portion of their retirements, but at least half of the residences appear to remain somewhat mobile.
Alas, it is no longer the bustling, *Boom* party-friendly, partial zoo that it once was. So, they have tons of open space along the ocean. Not to mention the fact that the security *Boom* seem to expect you to set off fireworks every night, and starting tonight, they even have a stand that sells fireworks on site. Every night we've been here, at least half of our neighbors have taken advantage of these facts to put on a show.
Predictably, every night after the first night, after we heard and saw the snap, crackles and pops, the boys have found a way (cleverly, *Boom* each time we head back from town, they somehow find a reason to stop the car and ask if they can walk the remainder of the way back to the condo...) to obtain explosive goodies.
The first night they went shopping, they set off a large stick of what appeared to be miniature dynamite by the house before it was even dark. *BOOM!!!* It ripped the 2 gallon water bottle where they set it off into pieces. And that was without the lid on. They claim this is the coolest thing they've done so far... The security came and questioned us and I was summoned. It was the darndest thing... my Spanish suddenly got much worse and I couldn't really answer any of their questions...
Since then, we've made friends with the folks who are camping in front of our rented condo because they too are pyromaniacs. *Boom* Every night, the two girls, aged 11 and 9 or so run around in circles while screaming and laughing as burnt embers from the fireworks they've just lit rain down around them. They make fun of us because we are too cautious... Don't be scared... says the big, often laughing Mom, and then she laughs her big laugh and says, Bush isn't watching....
We've joined their fun each night. *Boom*
The boys have purchased two sets of bottle rockets that have sucked in two unique ways -- the first just failed to explode very well, the second exploded quite well, about 1 foot in the air and 1 second after being lit. *Crack-crack-crack* Nish and I are currently trying to make the case that the remainder of this set should be dunked in the sink and thrown out.
The boys seem to agree, but that is now, while they are satiated from the hour of fun they just had with our camping neighbor's display and their own contribution of 2 huge rockets of high-exploding color, another one of the world's largest bottle-rocket-esque rockets on a stick exploding 40 feet over the pounding surf, and 7 plastic winged abejas (which, if lit on a flat space and if luck and the wind are in your favor, hover and rise in an alternating pattern of color to finally shoot a random tangent of orange sparks at the pinnacle approximately 30 feet in the air). *Boom* I fear that later they will want to try the bottle-rockets-of-death again despite the last failure where E appeared to be running from gunfire.
Tonight's crowd of revelers was easily double the number of yesterday's. *Boom!*
And, as E just said in response to the most recent boom... This is the 3rd. Tomorrow is going to be insane!
***COHETES!***
Book Reviews (#11 & 12)
My Grandfather's Blessings
This is the second book by Rachel Naomi Remen, the author of one of my favorite reads from 2006: Kitchen Table Wisdom.
It was more of the same. Short vignettes about the depth of beauty and suffering (and how the suffering is often the source of the beauty) of humanity that touched me and often made me cry.
If you feel that you are not seeing enough good in the world, I recommend her books to help you remember that people, in all of their forms, are great. Flawed. Funny. Hurt. Growing. But always wonderful in their own way.
Also, if the writing of the summary of the book on her site bothers you, don't be fooled. Her writing is very narrative. They are great stories that entertain and suck you in without preaching. I don't know who wrote the summary on her site, but it doesn't do the book justice.
Ladies With Options
As she often does, Sarah-the-book-fairy showed up at our house last Thursday with some books to loan me just in time for vacation.
As she predicted, I very much enjoyed this fictional story about a group of women in Minnesota who start an investing club and take over the world, or at least their very small portion of it.
It's based on some loose facts -- the U.S. stock market of the 1980's through the late 1990's, the decrease in manufacturing in the midwest during that time, the wild success of a few companies such as Dell, Microsoft, etc.
It's easy, accessible, a delightfully quick read, and very clean. All of the problems are solved neatly in the end. The characters were fun to get to know, and it was a great story with a happy ending. All-in-all, a perfect vacation read.
My Grandfather's Blessings
This is the second book by Rachel Naomi Remen, the author of one of my favorite reads from 2006: Kitchen Table Wisdom.
It was more of the same. Short vignettes about the depth of beauty and suffering (and how the suffering is often the source of the beauty) of humanity that touched me and often made me cry.
If you feel that you are not seeing enough good in the world, I recommend her books to help you remember that people, in all of their forms, are great. Flawed. Funny. Hurt. Growing. But always wonderful in their own way.
Also, if the writing of the summary of the book on her site bothers you, don't be fooled. Her writing is very narrative. They are great stories that entertain and suck you in without preaching. I don't know who wrote the summary on her site, but it doesn't do the book justice.
Ladies With Options
As she often does, Sarah-the-book-fairy showed up at our house last Thursday with some books to loan me just in time for vacation.
As she predicted, I very much enjoyed this fictional story about a group of women in Minnesota who start an investing club and take over the world, or at least their very small portion of it.
It's based on some loose facts -- the U.S. stock market of the 1980's through the late 1990's, the decrease in manufacturing in the midwest during that time, the wild success of a few companies such as Dell, Microsoft, etc.
It's easy, accessible, a delightfully quick read, and very clean. All of the problems are solved neatly in the end. The characters were fun to get to know, and it was a great story with a happy ending. All-in-all, a perfect vacation read.
Post 997
Folks, I was getting close to 1,000 posts in my old template, which I liked very much, but unfortunately, Firefox did not.
I was getting tired of scrolling to the right to read my writing because Firefox decided not to respect tables. So, I tried a new template. I don't love it, but I seem to have blown away the old one, as well as all of the comments.
I can guarantee I won't be spending time maintaining or mucking with the look of this thing because I'm not allowed access to the scripting behind the element definitions.
Oh well. C'est la vie. I did say I was going to try to simplify my life...
Folks, I was getting close to 1,000 posts in my old template, which I liked very much, but unfortunately, Firefox did not.
I was getting tired of scrolling to the right to read my writing because Firefox decided not to respect tables. So, I tried a new template. I don't love it, but I seem to have blown away the old one, as well as all of the comments.
I can guarantee I won't be spending time maintaining or mucking with the look of this thing because I'm not allowed access to the scripting behind the element definitions.
Oh well. C'est la vie. I did say I was going to try to simplify my life...
July 1, 2008
Peaceful Relaxation
Next to my head is an open window providing me with gorgeous views and the melodic noise of the crashing surf, which is 50 feet away.
So far, we've done little else than waking to the sound of surf, eating, lounging around the condo, drinking some mexican beers, running on the beach to the sound of the surf, eating, walking along the coast and through the eerily empty ghost town of Mona Lisa Resort, eating a delicious dinner at a local resort with views of the surf, reading to the sound of the surf and sleeping. Lots of sleeping.
Oddly, it's relatively empty here. Most of the vacation homes and motor homes where we are staying are empty. The nearby resorts are either primarily empty, or, empty and in disrepair. I would have thought that the mellow temperatures (highs in the mid 70s) would make this high season. But I would appear to be wrong.
So, in addition to the typically slow Mexican pace of life, there's the added stillness of very few people.
It's just what the doctor ordered.
So far, the most energy intensive activity put Nish and I in her car, trying to find the local yoga studio (which is 6 miles away, according to google maps), failing to find the right street and just driving around town 'til we found a place for margaritas (it's almost like yoga...). We may try again. Or... in all honesty, we may be too lazy.
During Nish's & my debacle, E & A did the typical male thing and bought the world's largest bottle rocket. The explosive portion was approximately 1 foot long and the stick was well over 3 feet long. It was scary to watch them try to light it, but when it finally went... ooohhhh... Cohetes! It shot from the rocks where they lodged it to 20 feet above the ocean and then exploded in an avalanche of color over the ocean.
Last night, after the fireworks show, we all sat on the balcony and talked 'til it was our respective bedtimes. And then, we each slept in 'til the sound of the surf woke us (or, in E's case, will wake him at some point...).
Today, it should be more of the same, although, if we get ambitious, we may head into town to experience the more touristy side of Ensenada that the cruise ship folks see.
Next to my head is an open window providing me with gorgeous views and the melodic noise of the crashing surf, which is 50 feet away.
So far, we've done little else than waking to the sound of surf, eating, lounging around the condo, drinking some mexican beers, running on the beach to the sound of the surf, eating, walking along the coast and through the eerily empty ghost town of Mona Lisa Resort, eating a delicious dinner at a local resort with views of the surf, reading to the sound of the surf and sleeping. Lots of sleeping.
Oddly, it's relatively empty here. Most of the vacation homes and motor homes where we are staying are empty. The nearby resorts are either primarily empty, or, empty and in disrepair. I would have thought that the mellow temperatures (highs in the mid 70s) would make this high season. But I would appear to be wrong.
So, in addition to the typically slow Mexican pace of life, there's the added stillness of very few people.
It's just what the doctor ordered.
So far, the most energy intensive activity put Nish and I in her car, trying to find the local yoga studio (which is 6 miles away, according to google maps), failing to find the right street and just driving around town 'til we found a place for margaritas (it's almost like yoga...). We may try again. Or... in all honesty, we may be too lazy.
During Nish's & my debacle, E & A did the typical male thing and bought the world's largest bottle rocket. The explosive portion was approximately 1 foot long and the stick was well over 3 feet long. It was scary to watch them try to light it, but when it finally went... ooohhhh... Cohetes! It shot from the rocks where they lodged it to 20 feet above the ocean and then exploded in an avalanche of color over the ocean.
Last night, after the fireworks show, we all sat on the balcony and talked 'til it was our respective bedtimes. And then, we each slept in 'til the sound of the surf woke us (or, in E's case, will wake him at some point...).
Today, it should be more of the same, although, if we get ambitious, we may head into town to experience the more touristy side of Ensenada that the cruise ship folks see.
June 24, 2008
A Moment of Thanks
E is home almost every night that I am at home. His work rarely requires overnight travel, and even when he opts to go out late with the boys, he likes to come home to sleep (albeit early in the next morning).
I know this is a blessing, and something for which I should be very thankful. But, like most good things in life, it takes a loss for you to truly appreciate how much you enjoy, depend upon, and benefit from the thing that's usually there.
So, tonight, E is away from home for work. He's got a conference that starts at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow, so he's staying the night near the conference and he left before I came home from work.
I took the opportunity to stay home alone, catch up on some work, do laundry, and enjoy the silence of the house.
Unfortunately, I had less work than I expected tonight. So, I'm almost done with the laundry. I've called a good friend I normally don't get to speak with during the week and caught up. I've culled the unworn clothes from my closet and organized my clothes for the first time in at least a year. And, truly, now that I'm done with all of this, I'm lonely. I'm looking for more tasks to attack, because I'm quite productive in my effort to stave off the loneliness.
I'm used to having E around. The noises he makes. The comfort his breathing brings to me while we silently sit in the office and work on our respective computers. Even just this simple one night without him (I honestly can't remember the last time I spent a night at home without him), and I feel like something huge is missing from my life.
I can't help but be amazed at how this happened. There was a time when I would have counted "fierce independence" among my most strong character traits. And yet, now, somehow, I've become someone who is very comfortable with, nay, even craves, intertwinedness, interdependence, and a shared life.
Rather than be frustrated with my evolution, I'm so thankful to share my life with someone who (i) wants to share their life with mine; and (ii) is able to do so. I've been told by friends who do not have this luxury that I should be very thankful. And I knew I should -- but tonight, I feel much closer to understanding just how blessed I have been.
Life is a strange and fascinating process.
E is home almost every night that I am at home. His work rarely requires overnight travel, and even when he opts to go out late with the boys, he likes to come home to sleep (albeit early in the next morning).
I know this is a blessing, and something for which I should be very thankful. But, like most good things in life, it takes a loss for you to truly appreciate how much you enjoy, depend upon, and benefit from the thing that's usually there.
So, tonight, E is away from home for work. He's got a conference that starts at the ass-crack of dawn tomorrow, so he's staying the night near the conference and he left before I came home from work.
I took the opportunity to stay home alone, catch up on some work, do laundry, and enjoy the silence of the house.
Unfortunately, I had less work than I expected tonight. So, I'm almost done with the laundry. I've called a good friend I normally don't get to speak with during the week and caught up. I've culled the unworn clothes from my closet and organized my clothes for the first time in at least a year. And, truly, now that I'm done with all of this, I'm lonely. I'm looking for more tasks to attack, because I'm quite productive in my effort to stave off the loneliness.
I'm used to having E around. The noises he makes. The comfort his breathing brings to me while we silently sit in the office and work on our respective computers. Even just this simple one night without him (I honestly can't remember the last time I spent a night at home without him), and I feel like something huge is missing from my life.
I can't help but be amazed at how this happened. There was a time when I would have counted "fierce independence" among my most strong character traits. And yet, now, somehow, I've become someone who is very comfortable with, nay, even craves, intertwinedness, interdependence, and a shared life.
Rather than be frustrated with my evolution, I'm so thankful to share my life with someone who (i) wants to share their life with mine; and (ii) is able to do so. I've been told by friends who do not have this luxury that I should be very thankful. And I knew I should -- but tonight, I feel much closer to understanding just how blessed I have been.
Life is a strange and fascinating process.
June 22, 2008
Surrogate Children
I took a break from work this afternoon to go speak with our across-the-street neighbor because she will be babysitting for us while we are on vacation.
Okay, so really, she'll actually just be watering the plants. But I don't think I've ever gone out of my way to line up care like this for something in my absence...and I can't help but think of the plants as E's and my children. We discuss them. We worry about them. We brought them to their current level of maturity together. We even (I wish I was kidding) have argued over the best way to treat them.
So, it was almost like giving the babysitter instructions when I walked our neighbor through the watering rules we follow (How many times a week should I water them? Well, we just keep 'em damp. Umm...you know, we just check 'em several times a day. We walk out there for breaks from work, breaks from life, just general breaks. Typically, we only actually hit 'em with the hose once a day, but sometimes, like this weekend when it reached 107F in the eaves, it's several times a day...)
Anyways, I'm going to get back to work now. Or perhaps I'll take a quick walk outside to check on the plants first...
I took a break from work this afternoon to go speak with our across-the-street neighbor because she will be babysitting for us while we are on vacation.
Okay, so really, she'll actually just be watering the plants. But I don't think I've ever gone out of my way to line up care like this for something in my absence...and I can't help but think of the plants as E's and my children. We discuss them. We worry about them. We brought them to their current level of maturity together. We even (I wish I was kidding) have argued over the best way to treat them.
So, it was almost like giving the babysitter instructions when I walked our neighbor through the watering rules we follow (How many times a week should I water them? Well, we just keep 'em damp. Umm...you know, we just check 'em several times a day. We walk out there for breaks from work, breaks from life, just general breaks. Typically, we only actually hit 'em with the hose once a day, but sometimes, like this weekend when it reached 107F in the eaves, it's several times a day...)
Anyways, I'm going to get back to work now. Or perhaps I'll take a quick walk outside to check on the plants first...
June 21, 2008
Coming up for air
I'm in another one of those work-'til-you-drop periods again. It's actually been a while, and I've got a vacation coming up, so at least it's fairly well timed.
This time around, I'm trying to force myself to relax, let the work go for an hour or few at a time, and take breaks for things that are more important to me than work -- like lunch with friends, time with my visiting sister, my runs, and a birthday dinner party for a friend.
Fitting all of those things in, however, is stressful. I'm constantly feeling like I should be working when I'm doing the things I told myself were more important than working.
At least I'm actually doing them. Now I just have to get better about enjoying them more.
In other news, it got up to 107F at our house under the eaves yesterday and my short run was *very* sweaty.
Today, I've got 13-15 miles with E2 on deck, which is much less distance than last week's 20, but it's already 80F outside... so I suspect it's gonna be difficult.
Guess I should get out the door sooner rather than later.
I'm in another one of those work-'til-you-drop periods again. It's actually been a while, and I've got a vacation coming up, so at least it's fairly well timed.
This time around, I'm trying to force myself to relax, let the work go for an hour or few at a time, and take breaks for things that are more important to me than work -- like lunch with friends, time with my visiting sister, my runs, and a birthday dinner party for a friend.
Fitting all of those things in, however, is stressful. I'm constantly feeling like I should be working when I'm doing the things I told myself were more important than working.
At least I'm actually doing them. Now I just have to get better about enjoying them more.
In other news, it got up to 107F at our house under the eaves yesterday and my short run was *very* sweaty.
Today, I've got 13-15 miles with E2 on deck, which is much less distance than last week's 20, but it's already 80F outside... so I suspect it's gonna be difficult.
Guess I should get out the door sooner rather than later.
June 15, 2008
Change
It's halfway through June. When did that happen?
It seems like just yesterday that E and I planted the transplants in the garden and tried our hand at growing okra from seeds.
And yet, here we are, 39-days post transplantation for most of the garden, and they are huge! All of the tomato plants have at least one green tomato that is in development, and many have more. (11 days 'til early girl is supposedly bearing her early fruit, and just a few more for the others. I can't wait!):
The herb box has been amazing. My success made me so excited that I purchased some herb seeds and planted those as well (cilantro, dill, chives). Predictably -- it was less of a success -- the dill sprouted, but died over memorial day when no one watered it. The cilantro is hanging in. And the chives, which the packaging swore were like weeds have not yet sprouted.
In particular, the basil is just kicking ass this year. I love it. Every week or two I trim the tops of all 6 plants for a huge harvest of the freshest basil available while forcing them to become even more bushy in their quest for sun.
In such a short time, despite many trimmings for meals, the herb box has gone from this:
To this:
And, much to our surprise, *all* of the okra seedlings. We actually had to cull some of the plants to prevent them from strangling each other. We're still not sure how much success we'll have in pots, but regardless, we've gone from this:
To this:
Plus, a fellow-tomato lover heard of our sunshine and asked if she could borrow some sun. She donated a yellow pear tomato plant that quick caught up with its friends and is doing very well. And as a thank you, she gave us a crook neck squash. This thing is out of control! When we got it it was maybe 2 inches tall with two leaves, and yet, here it is:
It's even starting to produce squash:
But, the biggest surprise for me has been the japanese cucumber plant. It went from this:
To this:
But what's most amazing is the structural supports this thing sends out. I swear, this plant has intelligence. It grows these long probes, which extend in search of things to support itself and when it finds supports, it attaches. And not just a little bit:
Amazing, I tell you.
I'm finding it so fascinating how quickly plants change -- it's a much needed reminder for me that everything is constantly changing. Every day, each of the plants are different from the day before. The squash, in particular, wilts without enough water, and then stands right back up when you alleviate the problem for it.
Yes, the best part will most certainly be the enjoyment of the fruits. But the care and observation of the growing is full of joy as well.
It's halfway through June. When did that happen?
It seems like just yesterday that E and I planted the transplants in the garden and tried our hand at growing okra from seeds.
And yet, here we are, 39-days post transplantation for most of the garden, and they are huge! All of the tomato plants have at least one green tomato that is in development, and many have more. (11 days 'til early girl is supposedly bearing her early fruit, and just a few more for the others. I can't wait!):
The herb box has been amazing. My success made me so excited that I purchased some herb seeds and planted those as well (cilantro, dill, chives). Predictably -- it was less of a success -- the dill sprouted, but died over memorial day when no one watered it. The cilantro is hanging in. And the chives, which the packaging swore were like weeds have not yet sprouted.
In particular, the basil is just kicking ass this year. I love it. Every week or two I trim the tops of all 6 plants for a huge harvest of the freshest basil available while forcing them to become even more bushy in their quest for sun.
In such a short time, despite many trimmings for meals, the herb box has gone from this:
To this:
And, much to our surprise, *all* of the okra seedlings. We actually had to cull some of the plants to prevent them from strangling each other. We're still not sure how much success we'll have in pots, but regardless, we've gone from this:
To this:
Plus, a fellow-tomato lover heard of our sunshine and asked if she could borrow some sun. She donated a yellow pear tomato plant that quick caught up with its friends and is doing very well. And as a thank you, she gave us a crook neck squash. This thing is out of control! When we got it it was maybe 2 inches tall with two leaves, and yet, here it is:
It's even starting to produce squash:
But, the biggest surprise for me has been the japanese cucumber plant. It went from this:
To this:
But what's most amazing is the structural supports this thing sends out. I swear, this plant has intelligence. It grows these long probes, which extend in search of things to support itself and when it finds supports, it attaches. And not just a little bit:
Amazing, I tell you.
I'm finding it so fascinating how quickly plants change -- it's a much needed reminder for me that everything is constantly changing. Every day, each of the plants are different from the day before. The squash, in particular, wilts without enough water, and then stands right back up when you alleviate the problem for it.
Yes, the best part will most certainly be the enjoyment of the fruits. But the care and observation of the growing is full of joy as well.
June 10, 2008
The latest book meme
This comes thanks to Magic Cookie.
I'd never heard of library thing, but it seems like exactly the type of thing I turn to when I'm looking for answers. A collection of geeks who are passionate about something... in this case, books.
I'd love to join, but, if I am honest with myself, I do not have the time, and, I am more passionate about my other hobbies than reading right now, so it wouldn't be a great place to divert my energy. [Speaking of diversion, I got up early this morning to finish some diligence, and yet, here I am blogging...]
So, here's the deal, you take the the top 106 books (why 106? I don't know) from the books most often tagged unread, then, you bold the ones you've read, underline those you read for school (like mc, I'm not gonna bother with this one), and italicize the ones you started but did not finish.
The ultimate hitchhiker's guide by Douglas Adams
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Anna Karenina (Oprah's Book Club) by Leo Tolstoy
The Illearth War: The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the… by Stephen R. Donaldson
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
One Hundred Years of Solitude (Oprah's Book Club) by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Vanity Fair (Penguin Classics) by William Makepeace Thackeray
The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien
Ulysses by James Joyce
War and peace by Leo Tolstoy
Madame Bovary (Oxford World's Classics) by Gustave Flaubert
Elantris by Brandon Sanderson
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
Quicksilver (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 1) by Neal Stephenson
A Tale of Two Cities (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Satanic Verses: A Novel (Bestselling Backlist) by Salman Rushdie
Middlemarch (Penguin Classics) by George Eliot
Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi
The Name of the Rose: including Postscript to the Name of… by Umberto Eco
(No title) by Mohammed
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
The Odyssey by Homer
The Canterbury Tales (Penguin Classics) by Geoffrey Chaucer
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (Signet Classics) by Victor Hugo
The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco
Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
The three musketeers by Alexandre Dumas
The Count of Monte Cristo (Penguin Classics) by Alexandre Dumas
The Iliad by Homer
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
Emma by Jane Austen
Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
Sons and Lovers (Modern Library Classics) by D.H. Lawrence
Gulliver's travels by Jonathan Swift
The House of Seven Gables (Bantam Classics) by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond
Dracula by Bram Stoker
Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers
Oliver Twist (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Once and Future King by T. H. White
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Mansfield Park (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
Great Expectations (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
Labyrinth by Kate Mosse
Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Penguin Classics) by Thomas Hardy
Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond
The Corrections: A Novel by Jonathan Franzen
Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
Underworld: A Novel by Don DeLillo
Ivanhoe (Penguin Classics) by Sir Walter Scott
The Grapes of Wrath (Centennial Edition) by John Steinbeck
Jane Eyre (Penguin Classics) by Charlotte Bronte
Count Brass by Michael Moorcock
The Gormenghast Novels by Mervyn Peake
The War of the Worlds (Modern Library Classics) by H. G. Wells
Jude the Obscure (Penguin Classics) by Thomas Hardy
The Origin Of Species by Charles Darwin
Tender Is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Penguin Classics) by James Joyce
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri
The Inferno by Dante Alighieri
Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Swann's Way: In Search of Lost Time, Vol. 1 (Penguin… by Marcel Proust
The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel (Perennial Classics) by Barbara Kingsolver
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
The Portrait of a Lady (Penguin Classics) by Henry James
Sense and Sensibility (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
Silas Marner by George Eliot (57)
The Picture of Dorian Gray (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)… by Oscar Wilde
The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
The Confusion (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 2) by Neal Stephenson
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
The Book Thief (Readers Circle) by Markus Zusak
Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
The System of the World (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 3) by Neal Stephenson
Bleak House (Modern Library Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and… by Brian Greene
Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson
The Known World by Edward P. Jones
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Mill on the Floss (Penguin Classics) by George Eliot
The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
Mason & Dixon by Thomas Pynchon
Dubliners by James Joyce
The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan
Les Misérables (Signet Classics) by Victor Hugo
Infinite Jest: A Novel by David Foster Wallace
Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad
Beloved by Toni Morrison
Persuasion (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
I like this list. It's got quite a variety and gives me plenty to turn to when I'm looking for a good book.
This comes thanks to Magic Cookie.
I'd never heard of library thing, but it seems like exactly the type of thing I turn to when I'm looking for answers. A collection of geeks who are passionate about something... in this case, books.
I'd love to join, but, if I am honest with myself, I do not have the time, and, I am more passionate about my other hobbies than reading right now, so it wouldn't be a great place to divert my energy. [Speaking of diversion, I got up early this morning to finish some diligence, and yet, here I am blogging...]
So, here's the deal, you take the the top 106 books (why 106? I don't know) from the books most often tagged unread, then, you bold the ones you've read, underline those you read for school (like mc, I'm not gonna bother with this one), and italicize the ones you started but did not finish.
The ultimate hitchhiker's guide by Douglas Adams
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell by Susanna Clarke
The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini
Anna Karenina (Oprah's Book Club) by Leo Tolstoy
The Illearth War: The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the… by Stephen R. Donaldson
Life of Pi by Yann Martel
Don Quixote by Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra
Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
One Hundred Years of Solitude (Oprah's Book Club) by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
Vanity Fair (Penguin Classics) by William Makepeace Thackeray
The Silmarillion by J.R.R. Tolkien
Ulysses by James Joyce
War and peace by Leo Tolstoy
Madame Bovary (Oxford World's Classics) by Gustave Flaubert
Elantris by Brandon Sanderson
The Brothers Karamazov by Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
Wuthering Heights by Emily Bronte
The Blind Assassin by Margaret Atwood
Quicksilver (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 1) by Neal Stephenson
A Tale of Two Cities (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Satanic Verses: A Novel (Bestselling Backlist) by Salman Rushdie
Middlemarch (Penguin Classics) by George Eliot
Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi
The Name of the Rose: including Postscript to the Name of… by Umberto Eco
(No title) by Mohammed
Moby Dick by Herman Melville
The Odyssey by Homer
The Canterbury Tales (Penguin Classics) by Geoffrey Chaucer
Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez
The Hunchback of Notre-Dame (Signet Classics) by Victor Hugo
The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
Foucault's Pendulum by Umberto Eco
Atlas Shrugged by Ayn Rand
Tom Jones by Henry Fielding
The three musketeers by Alexandre Dumas
The Count of Monte Cristo (Penguin Classics) by Alexandre Dumas
The Iliad by Homer
The Sound and the Fury by William Faulkner
Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf
Emma by Jane Austen
Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak
Sons and Lovers (Modern Library Classics) by D.H. Lawrence
Gulliver's travels by Jonathan Swift
The House of Seven Gables (Bantam Classics) by Nathaniel Hawthorne
Guns, Germs, and Steel: The Fates of Human Societies by Jared Diamond
Dracula by Bram Stoker
Lady Chatterley's Lover by D.H. Lawrence
A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius by Dave Eggers
Oliver Twist (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Once and Future King by T. H. White
Robinson Crusoe by Daniel Defoe
To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
Mansfield Park (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
Oryx and Crake by Margaret Atwood
Great Expectations (Penguin Classics) by Charles Dickens
Labyrinth by Kate Mosse
Tess of the D'Urbervilles (Penguin Classics) by Thomas Hardy
Collapse: How Societies Choose to Fail or Succeed by Jared Diamond
The Corrections: A Novel by Jonathan Franzen
Moll Flanders by Daniel Defoe
Underworld: A Novel by Don DeLillo
Ivanhoe (Penguin Classics) by Sir Walter Scott
The Grapes of Wrath (Centennial Edition) by John Steinbeck
Jane Eyre (Penguin Classics) by Charlotte Bronte
Count Brass by Michael Moorcock
The Gormenghast Novels by Mervyn Peake
The War of the Worlds (Modern Library Classics) by H. G. Wells
Jude the Obscure (Penguin Classics) by Thomas Hardy
The Origin Of Species by Charles Darwin
Tender Is the Night by F. Scott Fitzgerald
A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man (Penguin Classics) by James Joyce
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court by Mark Twain
The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri
The Inferno by Dante Alighieri
Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon
The Fountainhead by Ayn Rand
Swann's Way: In Search of Lost Time, Vol. 1 (Penguin… by Marcel Proust
The Poisonwood Bible: A Novel (Perennial Classics) by Barbara Kingsolver
The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay by Michael Chabon
The Portrait of a Lady (Penguin Classics) by Henry James
Sense and Sensibility (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
Silas Marner by George Eliot (57)
The Picture of Dorian Gray (Barnes & Noble Classics Series)… by Oscar Wilde
The Man in the Iron Mask by Alexandre Dumas
The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy
The Confusion (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 2) by Neal Stephenson
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest by Ken Kesey
The Book Thief (Readers Circle) by Markus Zusak
Frankenstein by Mary Wollstonecraft Shelley
The System of the World (The Baroque Cycle, Vol. 3) by Neal Stephenson
Bleak House (Modern Library Classics) by Charles Dickens
The Elegant Universe: Superstrings, Hidden Dimensions, and… by Brian Greene
Cryptonomicon by Neal Stephenson
The Known World by Edward P. Jones
The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
The Mill on the Floss (Penguin Classics) by George Eliot
The English Patient by Michael Ondaatje
Mason & Dixon by Thomas Pynchon
Dubliners by James Joyce
The Bonesetter's Daughter by Amy Tan
Les Misérables (Signet Classics) by Victor Hugo
Infinite Jest: A Novel by David Foster Wallace
Lord Jim by Joseph Conrad
Beloved by Toni Morrison
Persuasion (Penguin Classics) by Jane Austen
I like this list. It's got quite a variety and gives me plenty to turn to when I'm looking for a good book.
June 8, 2008
Now that's an accusation!
A Californian technology billionaire has been accused of feeding ecstasy to unwitting business associates, hosting orgies at a private drugs warehouse and building a secret party lair under his mansion that even his wife knew nothing about.
Looks like Broadcom's former CEO's life is about to get even more interesting.
Or less. Depending on your perspective.
A Californian technology billionaire has been accused of feeding ecstasy to unwitting business associates, hosting orgies at a private drugs warehouse and building a secret party lair under his mansion that even his wife knew nothing about.
Looks like Broadcom's former CEO's life is about to get even more interesting.
Or less. Depending on your perspective.
Exhausted
We were guests at my second-cousin/childhood friend's wedding this weekend. It was gorgeous, wonderful, but poignant given all of my dad's friends who were there. Maintaining my composure while interacting with them stressed me out more than I realized. This morning, on the drive home, E & I took a detour to go visit Dad's grave and I broke down in heart-wrenching body-shaking sobs. I hadn't been physically sad like that in a long time.
At the wedding, I couldn't remember the names of some folks I went to high school with, and, even better, one of the bridesmaids I hung out with in Vegas. A month ago. I made a bit of an ass of myself by calling her the wrong name when trying to introduce E. I'd love to say it was at the end of the event, so at least I could blame it on too much alcohol. But no, it was the first time I saw her. Before we even sat down. Awesome.
If you are not cursed with the lack of name memory, you have no idea how much it sucks. But, trust me, it does. Every time I walk in a room full of people, I know I am going to encounter someone who knows my name, about whom I know plenty of life details, but, for the life of me, I will not be able to retrieve their name. What I need to learn to do is to stop trying. I would have been much better off if I managed the conversation without trying to remember this girl's name than I was when I *thought* I remembered it. I mean, Andrea sounds like Becky, right?
The best quote of the weekend comes from M, when E, M, lucky_girl and I pulled into the beachfront event center of our hotel where we wanted to take some pictures of the four of us all gussied up in our wedding attire.
Valet: Hello, are you here for the furball?
M: No. But it sounds interesting...
Lucky_girl suggested we crash the furball (we later found out it was a benefit for animals) after the wedding. But, sadly, we are old and we had no interest in going anywhere other than straight back to the hotel at the end of the night.
And now, I must go bury myself in work. If we hadn't gone out of town, I could have worked straight through the weekend and still would not have finished it all. But we did leave, so this should be a fun week.
We were guests at my second-cousin/childhood friend's wedding this weekend. It was gorgeous, wonderful, but poignant given all of my dad's friends who were there. Maintaining my composure while interacting with them stressed me out more than I realized. This morning, on the drive home, E & I took a detour to go visit Dad's grave and I broke down in heart-wrenching body-shaking sobs. I hadn't been physically sad like that in a long time.
At the wedding, I couldn't remember the names of some folks I went to high school with, and, even better, one of the bridesmaids I hung out with in Vegas. A month ago. I made a bit of an ass of myself by calling her the wrong name when trying to introduce E. I'd love to say it was at the end of the event, so at least I could blame it on too much alcohol. But no, it was the first time I saw her. Before we even sat down. Awesome.
If you are not cursed with the lack of name memory, you have no idea how much it sucks. But, trust me, it does. Every time I walk in a room full of people, I know I am going to encounter someone who knows my name, about whom I know plenty of life details, but, for the life of me, I will not be able to retrieve their name. What I need to learn to do is to stop trying. I would have been much better off if I managed the conversation without trying to remember this girl's name than I was when I *thought* I remembered it. I mean, Andrea sounds like Becky, right?
The best quote of the weekend comes from M, when E, M, lucky_girl and I pulled into the beachfront event center of our hotel where we wanted to take some pictures of the four of us all gussied up in our wedding attire.
Valet: Hello, are you here for the furball?
M: No. But it sounds interesting...
Lucky_girl suggested we crash the furball (we later found out it was a benefit for animals) after the wedding. But, sadly, we are old and we had no interest in going anywhere other than straight back to the hotel at the end of the night.
And now, I must go bury myself in work. If we hadn't gone out of town, I could have worked straight through the weekend and still would not have finished it all. But we did leave, so this should be a fun week.
June 2, 2008
Bacon, Chick-Pea, Carrot Stew
The title pretty much says it all, my friends.
I've been working too hard to grocery shop. When I get spare time on the weekends, I take the opportunity to hang out with E, visiting Bro & niece, or E2. So, no shopping.
Upon arrival home this evening, I was greeted with a grim sight in our fridge (those who know me well will ask whether the sight was any grimmer than usual -- and honestly, I could not say...).
So, as a much needed break in the middle of my 13-billable-hour-day (groan... 8:30-7:30 straight at work plus an additional 2 hours of billable work at home make BT something-something...) I cobbled together a healthy stew that we both enjoyed from the random bits in the fridge and pantry. If, for some reason, you find yourself with these ingredients, enjoy!
Clean out the pantry and fridge healthy stew
-1/4 lb bacon, left over from camping, chopped into 1/4 inch squares
-4 carrots, washed, peeled, and chopped into 1/4 inch rounds
-1/2 white onion, diced
-4 cloves garlic, diced
-3 T of "La Bomba" red chili flakes mixed with herbs and dried porcini from a friend who lived in Italy and brought it back as a present (R's little bro, the chef)
-2 cans chick peas (garbonzo beans)
-1 can stewed tomatoes
-1 box chopped Pomi
-1/4 box beef broth
-3 sprigs fresh rosemary from your herb box [insert happy I-love-my-herb-box-grin]
-2 sprigs lemon thyme from your herb box [repeat]
-4 sprigs Italian Oregano from your herb box [repeat, cautiously]
-3 longer sprigs majoram [okay, so the entire point of this post is to point out how happy an herb box can make you when you spend your entire life on the busy-busy treadmill of capitalist business support.]
1. Brown bacon on medium heat. Drain 3/4 of bacon fat into empty wine bottle. Watch southern husband scowl.
2. Add 2 T olive oil, garlic, onions, and carrots. Stir vigorously for a few minutes. Add "La Bomba" and cough at the red chili pepper flake smoke. Potent stuff!
3. Add tomatoes & beans. Lower heat to simmer. Add washed and minced handful of herb-box herbs. Note that no one is as impressed as you are by the herb-box herbs. Leave covered on low to simmer for 30 minutes.
4. Stir. Add broth (and water if necessary). Continue to simmer until carrots are the correct level of cooked (total of 50 minutes or so).
5. Remove from heat. Serve into large bowls. Enjoy. Serves 3 hearty appetites for dinner (or, more importantly in our case, happily serves 2, with enough to feel like a good wife when you look at what you're leaving for lunch for your husband for the next day).
Enjoy!
The title pretty much says it all, my friends.
I've been working too hard to grocery shop. When I get spare time on the weekends, I take the opportunity to hang out with E, visiting Bro & niece, or E2. So, no shopping.
Upon arrival home this evening, I was greeted with a grim sight in our fridge (those who know me well will ask whether the sight was any grimmer than usual -- and honestly, I could not say...).
So, as a much needed break in the middle of my 13-billable-hour-day (groan... 8:30-7:30 straight at work plus an additional 2 hours of billable work at home make BT something-something...) I cobbled together a healthy stew that we both enjoyed from the random bits in the fridge and pantry. If, for some reason, you find yourself with these ingredients, enjoy!
Clean out the pantry and fridge healthy stew
-1/4 lb bacon, left over from camping, chopped into 1/4 inch squares
-4 carrots, washed, peeled, and chopped into 1/4 inch rounds
-1/2 white onion, diced
-4 cloves garlic, diced
-3 T of "La Bomba" red chili flakes mixed with herbs and dried porcini from a friend who lived in Italy and brought it back as a present (R's little bro, the chef)
-2 cans chick peas (garbonzo beans)
-1 can stewed tomatoes
-1 box chopped Pomi
-1/4 box beef broth
-3 sprigs fresh rosemary from your herb box [insert happy I-love-my-herb-box-grin]
-2 sprigs lemon thyme from your herb box [repeat]
-4 sprigs Italian Oregano from your herb box [repeat, cautiously]
-3 longer sprigs majoram [okay, so the entire point of this post is to point out how happy an herb box can make you when you spend your entire life on the busy-busy treadmill of capitalist business support.]
1. Brown bacon on medium heat. Drain 3/4 of bacon fat into empty wine bottle. Watch southern husband scowl.
2. Add 2 T olive oil, garlic, onions, and carrots. Stir vigorously for a few minutes. Add "La Bomba" and cough at the red chili pepper flake smoke. Potent stuff!
3. Add tomatoes & beans. Lower heat to simmer. Add washed and minced handful of herb-box herbs. Note that no one is as impressed as you are by the herb-box herbs. Leave covered on low to simmer for 30 minutes.
4. Stir. Add broth (and water if necessary). Continue to simmer until carrots are the correct level of cooked (total of 50 minutes or so).
5. Remove from heat. Serve into large bowls. Enjoy. Serves 3 hearty appetites for dinner (or, more importantly in our case, happily serves 2, with enough to feel like a good wife when you look at what you're leaving for lunch for your husband for the next day).
Enjoy!
May 28, 2008
Tear-jerkers
When I get depressed, there is nothing I enjoy more than a movie, which is guaranteed to make me cry.
You will note that the previous sentence does not say,
When I get depressed, there is nothing I enjoy more than a movie which is guaranteed to make me cry.
You see, tonight I have learned that all movies make me cry when I'm sad. Previously, I suspected it was something about the dry eyes and the blinking at the screen, and the music. Or maybe it had something to do with planes, since I'm always crying at movies on planes. Or something. But I have realized that I'm just a movie crier. And the cheesier and more clichéed the plots are, the better.
Recent successful entrants in this category include:
-Secretary
-Water
-Under the Tuscan Sun
-Sweet Home Alabama
-Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
And some historical go-to favorites are:
-Rudy
-Playing by Heart
-La Vita è bella
But, tonight, I finally confirmed for myself that it really doesn't matter what the movie is. Tonight, because I was bordering on very sad, I didn't think the House of Sand and Fog was a good idea, so I plopped myself in front of the tube for 2 hours and balled my eyes out to Runaway Bride.
The 5/10 star rating on IMDB is *extremely* generous. It may be one of the worst movies I've ever seen.
And yet, it did the trick. I'm ready for some yoga and bed and then tomorrow will be a lighter, more carefree day.
When I get depressed, there is nothing I enjoy more than a movie, which is guaranteed to make me cry.
You will note that the previous sentence does not say,
When I get depressed, there is nothing I enjoy more than a movie which is guaranteed to make me cry.
You see, tonight I have learned that all movies make me cry when I'm sad. Previously, I suspected it was something about the dry eyes and the blinking at the screen, and the music. Or maybe it had something to do with planes, since I'm always crying at movies on planes. Or something. But I have realized that I'm just a movie crier. And the cheesier and more clichéed the plots are, the better.
Recent successful entrants in this category include:
-Secretary
-Water
-Under the Tuscan Sun
-Sweet Home Alabama
-Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
And some historical go-to favorites are:
-Rudy
-Playing by Heart
-La Vita è bella
But, tonight, I finally confirmed for myself that it really doesn't matter what the movie is. Tonight, because I was bordering on very sad, I didn't think the House of Sand and Fog was a good idea, so I plopped myself in front of the tube for 2 hours and balled my eyes out to Runaway Bride.
The 5/10 star rating on IMDB is *extremely* generous. It may be one of the worst movies I've ever seen.
And yet, it did the trick. I'm ready for some yoga and bed and then tomorrow will be a lighter, more carefree day.
May 26, 2008
Delta, revisited
Last time we spent memorial day on the delta:
-E2 had the smelly tent, and camped on the grass outside our rented trailer/mobile-home
-Dad drove to join us, and hazed E with entirely too many beers
-E tried to build our newly purchased cheap as shit BBQ, but drunk due to Dad's plying him with beverages, he failed, spectacularly, and fabulously.
-In reality, Dad hazed E 'til he had to be put to bed and then he played poker with us girls (J, E2, sis & me), and felt slightly guilty about E's early bedtime, as if, perhaps it was partly his fault (you think?);
-To cap off the night, J played the famous "5-6-7-8-8" poker hand
-I got too much sun
-Most of the folks got in the freezing water, but not me, not even for the beer-swim.
I had forgotten that it was *very windy* that weekend.
But, this weekend reminded me...that life changes, but not too much, for example, let's just say:
-I am sunburnt (and happy to have relaxed in the sun), again.
-It was windy, again. (The winds hit >25 mph tonight and I chickened out and suggested and cajoled our entire campsite home (with the pre-emptive strike of lucky-girl who'd intelligently pre-called an early departure)).
-Indulgence was the theme of the weekend, again, whether it was alcomohal, meat for the vegetarians, or just sleep. Of course, other than the sleep, the indulgence was toned down the order of magnitude you'd expect for the 5 years between the last visit. Somewhat disappointing, really.
-And finally, E2's new tent is gorgeous, streamlined for the wind, and not the least bit reeking of sour milk. (Prop's to P for that change!)
Overall, a good time was had by all. But I must say, I think I'll head E2's advice -- given the wind, perhaps Delta camping isn't a great idea...
Maybe I'll learn my lesson this time around. Anyone wanna give me odds? Or better yet, suggestions on locations for our next local camping trip?
Last time we spent memorial day on the delta:
-E2 had the smelly tent, and camped on the grass outside our rented trailer/mobile-home
-Dad drove to join us, and hazed E with entirely too many beers
-E tried to build our newly purchased cheap as shit BBQ, but drunk due to Dad's plying him with beverages, he failed, spectacularly, and fabulously.
-In reality, Dad hazed E 'til he had to be put to bed and then he played poker with us girls (J, E2, sis & me), and felt slightly guilty about E's early bedtime, as if, perhaps it was partly his fault (you think?);
-To cap off the night, J played the famous "5-6-7-8-8" poker hand
-I got too much sun
-Most of the folks got in the freezing water, but not me, not even for the beer-swim.
I had forgotten that it was *very windy* that weekend.
But, this weekend reminded me...that life changes, but not too much, for example, let's just say:
-I am sunburnt (and happy to have relaxed in the sun), again.
-It was windy, again. (The winds hit >25 mph tonight and I chickened out and suggested and cajoled our entire campsite home (with the pre-emptive strike of lucky-girl who'd intelligently pre-called an early departure)).
-Indulgence was the theme of the weekend, again, whether it was alcomohal, meat for the vegetarians, or just sleep. Of course, other than the sleep, the indulgence was toned down the order of magnitude you'd expect for the 5 years between the last visit. Somewhat disappointing, really.
-And finally, E2's new tent is gorgeous, streamlined for the wind, and not the least bit reeking of sour milk. (Prop's to P for that change!)
Overall, a good time was had by all. But I must say, I think I'll head E2's advice -- given the wind, perhaps Delta camping isn't a great idea...
Maybe I'll learn my lesson this time around. Anyone wanna give me odds? Or better yet, suggestions on locations for our next local camping trip?
May 18, 2008
Bountiful Spring Salad
Yeah, I spent the weekend in the city with my mom and sister, bonding and navigating the crowds of bay-to-breakers. We did it faster than the last time, 3 years ago, and I was very proud of my mom, who finished 248th in her age-group, an order of magnitude above where I placed my mine...
Upon arrival at home, I was exhausted.
I should have stopped by the office to pick up some diligence. Its review is due tomorrow by noon. But I just couldn't. I'd worked 5 days for more than 12 hours this week and 6 hours on Saturday. I needed a day off. Tomorrow AM is gonna suck, but them's the breaks. I did sign up with full knowledge...
So, trading today for tomorrow, I came straight home, met E at the garden, and we observed the plants with approval, and then, I fell into a deep-sleeping nap on the couch.
When I woke, I found myself facing a small around the house todo list including a fridge full of wilting vegetables from last weekend's spring bounty from the farmer's market.
After evaluation and some thought, I combined the greener portions of what was in the fridge with the first harvest from our garden -- BASIL! You can cut the tops off and encourage it to grow more fully as soon as it's sprouted several new leaves. What a gorgeous, delicious, non-complex, reproduction focused plant!
So, in celebration of the first spring harvest, I present the *greenest* salad ever made in our kitchen:
Spring Bounty Salad
-1 bunch baby asparagus spears, washed, trimmed of tough ends and wilted spear tops (if any), and chopped into 1 inch pieces.
-2 red potatoes, washed, chopped into 1/4 inch by 1/2 inch pieces.
-1 cup fava beans, shelled.
-sea salt.
-extra virgin olive oil.
-rice vinegar.
-1 bunch parsely.
-1/2 bunch dill.
-tops of 6 basil plants (approx, 1/2 cup fresh basil, chopped).
-1 T red pepper flakes.
1. Lightly boil chopped potatoes in salted water 'til tender (approx 15-20 minutes). Drain and top with cold water.
2. Lightly boil fava beans until bright green and floating (5 minutes or less). Remove the white skin and place in cold water.
3. Lightly boil asparagus spears until bright green and floating (5 minutes or less). Remove from water and place in cold water.
4. In a cuisinart, combine parsely, basil, dill, several times around the dish of olive oil, a similar amount (if slightly less) of rice vinegar, and pepper flakes. Pulse, clear the edges with a rubber scraper, and continue to blend until a nice evenly chopped pesto.
5. Combine all cold vegetables and pesto in a dish. Allow to sit for 5 minutes.
6. Serve cold, with sourdough baguette pieces to soup up the left-over pesto.
Enjoy!
Yeah, I spent the weekend in the city with my mom and sister, bonding and navigating the crowds of bay-to-breakers. We did it faster than the last time, 3 years ago, and I was very proud of my mom, who finished 248th in her age-group, an order of magnitude above where I placed my mine...
Upon arrival at home, I was exhausted.
I should have stopped by the office to pick up some diligence. Its review is due tomorrow by noon. But I just couldn't. I'd worked 5 days for more than 12 hours this week and 6 hours on Saturday. I needed a day off. Tomorrow AM is gonna suck, but them's the breaks. I did sign up with full knowledge...
So, trading today for tomorrow, I came straight home, met E at the garden, and we observed the plants with approval, and then, I fell into a deep-sleeping nap on the couch.
When I woke, I found myself facing a small around the house todo list including a fridge full of wilting vegetables from last weekend's spring bounty from the farmer's market.
After evaluation and some thought, I combined the greener portions of what was in the fridge with the first harvest from our garden -- BASIL! You can cut the tops off and encourage it to grow more fully as soon as it's sprouted several new leaves. What a gorgeous, delicious, non-complex, reproduction focused plant!
So, in celebration of the first spring harvest, I present the *greenest* salad ever made in our kitchen:
Spring Bounty Salad
-1 bunch baby asparagus spears, washed, trimmed of tough ends and wilted spear tops (if any), and chopped into 1 inch pieces.
-2 red potatoes, washed, chopped into 1/4 inch by 1/2 inch pieces.
-1 cup fava beans, shelled.
-sea salt.
-extra virgin olive oil.
-rice vinegar.
-1 bunch parsely.
-1/2 bunch dill.
-tops of 6 basil plants (approx, 1/2 cup fresh basil, chopped).
-1 T red pepper flakes.
1. Lightly boil chopped potatoes in salted water 'til tender (approx 15-20 minutes). Drain and top with cold water.
2. Lightly boil fava beans until bright green and floating (5 minutes or less). Remove the white skin and place in cold water.
3. Lightly boil asparagus spears until bright green and floating (5 minutes or less). Remove from water and place in cold water.
4. In a cuisinart, combine parsely, basil, dill, several times around the dish of olive oil, a similar amount (if slightly less) of rice vinegar, and pepper flakes. Pulse, clear the edges with a rubber scraper, and continue to blend until a nice evenly chopped pesto.
5. Combine all cold vegetables and pesto in a dish. Allow to sit for 5 minutes.
6. Serve cold, with sourdough baguette pieces to soup up the left-over pesto.
Enjoy!
May 17, 2008
Snap, Crackle, Pop!
Last night, around 10:30, we ran outside to the sound of firecrackers.
So had all of our neighbors. They'd beaten us outside and were standing around a huge tree branch from our tree that had partially broken from the trunk about 20 feet in the air and had fallen into the middle of our street.
Sorry, said the adorable neighbor kid. *Smartass*
We hung out with the neighbors in the street for a while, walking around the huge branch and listening to the groans of our tree. We analyzed the situation and agreed that it was likely that our tree would be tagged and removed, just like our next door neighbor's tree of the same variety.
We all commented on how the branch was so big that had E2's car been parked in it's regular spot, it would have been fine. Our neighbors even mentioned the make and color of E2's car, which made me realize how often she must be here. So, we hung out in the hot night air, with the branch still partially attached to the tree arching to touch down in the middle of the street.
One of our neighbors called the city -- apparently there had been a flyer about how our type of tree is often diseased and we should call if things appeared amiss. Seemed like as good of a time as any to call.
Eventually, two cop cars came, and they moved the branch to be parallel to the street, although still attached to the tree (blocking E's car into our driveway).
An hour later, the city sent a huge truck to chainsaw it down with a long-arm chainsaw that brought us back out into the street -- that thing was cool! I can't believe I've never seen one in a horror film.
Unfortunately, I didn't think to take pictures 'til this morning.
So, this is where the tree branch broke from the tree:
And, this is what is left of the fallen branch:
Do we know how to party on a Friday night, or what?
Last night, around 10:30, we ran outside to the sound of firecrackers.
So had all of our neighbors. They'd beaten us outside and were standing around a huge tree branch from our tree that had partially broken from the trunk about 20 feet in the air and had fallen into the middle of our street.
Sorry, said the adorable neighbor kid. *Smartass*
We hung out with the neighbors in the street for a while, walking around the huge branch and listening to the groans of our tree. We analyzed the situation and agreed that it was likely that our tree would be tagged and removed, just like our next door neighbor's tree of the same variety.
We all commented on how the branch was so big that had E2's car been parked in it's regular spot, it would have been fine. Our neighbors even mentioned the make and color of E2's car, which made me realize how often she must be here. So, we hung out in the hot night air, with the branch still partially attached to the tree arching to touch down in the middle of the street.
One of our neighbors called the city -- apparently there had been a flyer about how our type of tree is often diseased and we should call if things appeared amiss. Seemed like as good of a time as any to call.
Eventually, two cop cars came, and they moved the branch to be parallel to the street, although still attached to the tree (blocking E's car into our driveway).
An hour later, the city sent a huge truck to chainsaw it down with a long-arm chainsaw that brought us back out into the street -- that thing was cool! I can't believe I've never seen one in a horror film.
Unfortunately, I didn't think to take pictures 'til this morning.
So, this is where the tree branch broke from the tree:
And, this is what is left of the fallen branch:
Do we know how to party on a Friday night, or what?
May 14, 2008
The Miracle of Life
Last night, when I arrived home in the dark, E greeted me outside with a flashlight and a huge grin.
He showed me this:
And This:
I realize that these look like buckets of dirt. But if you look very, very closely, you will see sprouts of green which made us very happy.
These would be the okra seedlings that we somehow managed to germinate from seeds. Despite failing to soak them prior to planting (why would you read the directions?) and despite some severe overwatering (read: standing water), we managed to coax several shoots of green to burst forth from the dirt.
Until recently, I was best known for my brown thumb and my ability to kill any and every plant with which I had contact.
I haven't grown anything from seeds since I was a kid (and my parents helped), but E really wanted okra and there were no seedlings. So, we acknowledged that it would probably fail but tried anyways. I'm so proud!
And, like a parent with child pictures, I present pictures of the rest of our garden as well, to show that I love all of my plants.
Tomatoes, 7 days post transplantation:
Herb Box:
Japanese cucumber, 7 days post transplantation:
Last night, when I arrived home in the dark, E greeted me outside with a flashlight and a huge grin.
He showed me this:
And This:
I realize that these look like buckets of dirt. But if you look very, very closely, you will see sprouts of green which made us very happy.
These would be the okra seedlings that we somehow managed to germinate from seeds. Despite failing to soak them prior to planting (why would you read the directions?) and despite some severe overwatering (read: standing water), we managed to coax several shoots of green to burst forth from the dirt.
Until recently, I was best known for my brown thumb and my ability to kill any and every plant with which I had contact.
I haven't grown anything from seeds since I was a kid (and my parents helped), but E really wanted okra and there were no seedlings. So, we acknowledged that it would probably fail but tried anyways. I'm so proud!
And, like a parent with child pictures, I present pictures of the rest of our garden as well, to show that I love all of my plants.
Tomatoes, 7 days post transplantation:
Herb Box:
Japanese cucumber, 7 days post transplantation:
May 11, 2008
I thought I'd seen it all
I had a bit of a Vegas habit for a while. Instead of flying, I drove out a few times, even, for the privilege of heat and sun and staying in cheap motels and finding the best bargains on food I could while spending my free money gambling at the lower table minimum and good craps odds locations.
Then I grew tired of the place and only went when invited.
My last visit was a long weekend of spending too much money, indulging in too much alcohol, and meeting Kfed (another story).
This past weekend, was almost the exact opposite of the last one, except I stayed in the same hotel and uttered, yet again, If I never have to set foot in another club in my life, that would be just fine with me..
Thus, I dub the past weekend The healthiest weekend I've ever spent in Vegas. No real excess in food, spending, or alcohol. Instead, I caught up with friends, and I went to the gym and hit the treadmill. As a huge shock to my system (I suspect my liver cringes every time I land at MacArran), the total number of drinks I consumed over the entire weekend was in the single digits.
And, finally, after all the jokes, I've now seen The Thunder. Even worse, I sincerely enjoyed it. Those guys work their asses off (literally) to put on a great show. And watching the sincere and heartful joy (and fear of heart palpitations) of the 50+ year old women at our table was the highlight of my weekend. No joke.
Such joy those young Aussies bring to the world.
Such givers!
I had a bit of a Vegas habit for a while. Instead of flying, I drove out a few times, even, for the privilege of heat and sun and staying in cheap motels and finding the best bargains on food I could while spending my free money gambling at the lower table minimum and good craps odds locations.
Then I grew tired of the place and only went when invited.
My last visit was a long weekend of spending too much money, indulging in too much alcohol, and meeting Kfed (another story).
This past weekend, was almost the exact opposite of the last one, except I stayed in the same hotel and uttered, yet again, If I never have to set foot in another club in my life, that would be just fine with me..
Thus, I dub the past weekend The healthiest weekend I've ever spent in Vegas. No real excess in food, spending, or alcohol. Instead, I caught up with friends, and I went to the gym and hit the treadmill. As a huge shock to my system (I suspect my liver cringes every time I land at MacArran), the total number of drinks I consumed over the entire weekend was in the single digits.
And, finally, after all the jokes, I've now seen The Thunder. Even worse, I sincerely enjoyed it. Those guys work their asses off (literally) to put on a great show. And watching the sincere and heartful joy (and fear of heart palpitations) of the 50+ year old women at our table was the highlight of my weekend. No joke.
Such joy those young Aussies bring to the world.
Such givers!
May 8, 2008
The reality
Work exploded this week.
I've worked past midnight every night this week (past 1 AM for two). Although I've fit in some yoga, I have yet to run a single mile since my return. Every time it's planned, something gets in the way. I'm holding out hope for tomorrow AM (the same hope I had this AM, yesterday AM, the day before that...)
Every single one of my clients or the partners I work for seems to have an emergency and I can't help but feel simultaneously flattered and at the same time as if I'm failing to help them as much or as quickly as they need me.
I feel alternatingly guilty and stressed. Today was an a blizzard of phone calls with clients begging me to do their work while they waited on the line so we could discuss it, right then, right there...
But, I am busy because my clients give me issues to address that are exciting and it's so interesting! I'm learning a ton. I love my job. I just wish there was a way to decouple it from its cyclic nature.
Vacation was fun while it lasted!
Work exploded this week.
I've worked past midnight every night this week (past 1 AM for two). Although I've fit in some yoga, I have yet to run a single mile since my return. Every time it's planned, something gets in the way. I'm holding out hope for tomorrow AM (the same hope I had this AM, yesterday AM, the day before that...)
Every single one of my clients or the partners I work for seems to have an emergency and I can't help but feel simultaneously flattered and at the same time as if I'm failing to help them as much or as quickly as they need me.
I feel alternatingly guilty and stressed. Today was an a blizzard of phone calls with clients begging me to do their work while they waited on the line so we could discuss it, right then, right there...
But, I am busy because my clients give me issues to address that are exciting and it's so interesting! I'm learning a ton. I love my job. I just wish there was a way to decouple it from its cyclic nature.
Vacation was fun while it lasted!
May 6, 2008
This year's garden
Well, since last year's single Black Krim seedling brought us much happiness, and supplied about 1/2 of our tomato needs for the months it was bearing ripe fruit, we did the logical thing, and planted 6 tomato plants this year.
So, in order of predicted fruit-bearing, assuming we manage to keep them alive until they bear fruit, you can expect to see tomato recipes featuring:
To go with these, we also planted an expanded herb box containing 6 basil plants, lemon thyme, rosemary, italian oregano, and marjoram.
In honor of our vacation, we're trying our hand at 1 Japanese cucumber plant.
And, in honor of E's southern roots, we planted okra, from seeds (but of course, we don't know what the hell we're doing, so we planted, literally, 10 seed-filled indentations with 1-4 seeds each, and it'll be a miracle if we manage to raise one to a fruit-bearing plant.) After the planting was done, E read the packet to see we were supposed to soak the seeds for 24 hours before planting. We decided post-planting soaking was the best way to remedy this mistake and watered accordingly. So yeah... I'll report back on that one. I'd say that at this point, one fruit-bearing plant would be a success, and none would not, necessarily, be a failure, since we couldn't possibly plant the whole seed packet and the winner might still be in there.
So yeah. It's good to be home. I'm excited about summer harvest.
Well, since last year's single Black Krim seedling brought us much happiness, and supplied about 1/2 of our tomato needs for the months it was bearing ripe fruit, we did the logical thing, and planted 6 tomato plants this year.
So, in order of predicted fruit-bearing, assuming we manage to keep them alive until they bear fruit, you can expect to see tomato recipes featuring:
- Early Girl -- 50-65 days from transplantation.
- Sweet 100 -- 65 days from transplantation.
- Better Boy Tomato -- 75 days from transplantation. And, the Guiness world record holder for weight of tomato fruit produced from one plant. I can't wait!
- Black Krim -- the favorite from last year returns again. 75-80 days from transplantation. But worth every one of 'em.
- Mr. Stripey -- 80 days from transplantation. I mean, really, with a name like that, how could we resist?
- Beefmaster -- 80 days from transplation. The logic from Mr. Stripey controls, clearly.
To go with these, we also planted an expanded herb box containing 6 basil plants, lemon thyme, rosemary, italian oregano, and marjoram.
In honor of our vacation, we're trying our hand at 1 Japanese cucumber plant.
And, in honor of E's southern roots, we planted okra, from seeds (but of course, we don't know what the hell we're doing, so we planted, literally, 10 seed-filled indentations with 1-4 seeds each, and it'll be a miracle if we manage to raise one to a fruit-bearing plant.) After the planting was done, E read the packet to see we were supposed to soak the seeds for 24 hours before planting. We decided post-planting soaking was the best way to remedy this mistake and watered accordingly. So yeah... I'll report back on that one. I'd say that at this point, one fruit-bearing plant would be a success, and none would not, necessarily, be a failure, since we couldn't possibly plant the whole seed packet and the winner might still be in there.
So yeah. It's good to be home. I'm excited about summer harvest.
May 5, 2008
About time
Finally, last night, after a long phone call with R and too much wine, I was able to fall asleep before 1:30 and sleep 'til 7:30 without waking up.
Prior to that, every night since our return, I'd had trouble falling asleep, and staying asleep.
I am shocked that it took me an entire week to get back on some semblance of the correct time schedule after being in Asia.
I have no idea how people travel to Asia on business on a regular basis.
Finally, last night, after a long phone call with R and too much wine, I was able to fall asleep before 1:30 and sleep 'til 7:30 without waking up.
Prior to that, every night since our return, I'd had trouble falling asleep, and staying asleep.
I am shocked that it took me an entire week to get back on some semblance of the correct time schedule after being in Asia.
I have no idea how people travel to Asia on business on a regular basis.
May 1, 2008
Japan Reading and Listening List
We had a fabulous time in Japan. My experience was significantly deepened by several items I can recommend:
1. Pimsleur CDs. It took me almost a year to get through all 30 lessons on my commute to work. I'd repeat the lessons until I could do the majority of the prompted responses from memory. It helped enourmously. I can't wait to start the Spanish Pimsleur CDs (my next language!) and I swear, I will never use another learn by audio language program. Pimsleur is so superior to any other program I've tried.
2. Of course, Books. My favorite past-time.
And now, I'm back home. 6 books that I would be proud to include on my booklist as books I read this year in pursuit of my approximately 20 book challenge. 1 travel book as a resource that I can't claim because I didn't read it cover to cover. 2 arty-books I could claim if desperate. I'll wait 'til the end of the year to see if I need to claim the arty-books to hit 20. For now, I'll content myself with the fact that I'm on book 9 without 'em and it's only 4 months in. And, of course, now that I'm back to work, I'll resume my regularly scheduled program of finishing approximately 1 book per month or so.
We had a fabulous time in Japan. My experience was significantly deepened by several items I can recommend:
1. Pimsleur CDs. It took me almost a year to get through all 30 lessons on my commute to work. I'd repeat the lessons until I could do the majority of the prompted responses from memory. It helped enourmously. I can't wait to start the Spanish Pimsleur CDs (my next language!) and I swear, I will never use another learn by audio language program. Pimsleur is so superior to any other program I've tried.
2. Of course, Books. My favorite past-time.
- Lonely Planet Japan -- we referred to this for each city we visited. It had all the important stuff -- history, maps, background. A great reference to be supplemented with the Internet, advice from Friends, and books.
- Pictures from the Water Trade, by John David Morley -- a coworker gave me this book along with a book on how to read and write kanji. The next day he stopped by to apologize that the book may be, at times, a bit racey, and to ensure me that he did not intend to be inappropriate. It's literature! But how sweet is that? Anyways, this book was probably the most purely educational book of all of the books I read. The author is clearly a language lover after my own heart, and pages upon pages were dedicated to analysis of the sounds of the language, the affectation, it's rhythm and cadence and preparatory wrappings, soft endings, noises, and more. When he tired of language, he wrote of the underground -- the "water trade" or modern day bars where women are often available for entertainment (dancing, talking, and, of course, the oldest profession in the world). The difference in cultural perspective on the water trade in Japan was necessary to my understanding of gender roles in Japan. Similarly, he spends much time analyzing his outsider status vis-a-vis his growing command of the language and cultural norms, which is typically the means that the Japanese use to distinguish insiders from outsiders. While the plot is relatively non-existant, the observations and analysis is fascinating, and I highly recommend this book if you'd like to gain a better understanding of Japanese culture.
- Dave Barry Does Japan -- okay, I must admit. I made a mistake. I thought this was a Bill Bryson book when I bought it. How? Well, as I've told everyone who will listen, I'm *REALLY* bad with names. I just don't think they are important. I record relevant information to me, like *funny,* *articulate,* *travel writer,* and well...I'm lazy too. Anyways, E laughed his ass off when I admitted my mistake because he was surprised when I bought the book. It struck him as a wee bit too culturally insensitive for my usual tastes. But, I was pleasantly surprised. I thought Mr. Barry did an excellent job of reporting on Japanese culture from the American perspective. It was surprisingly well-researched (although, given that he's won a pulitzer, perhaps it shouldn't have been so surprising). And it was damn funny, too.
- Japanland: A Year in Search of Wa, by Karin Muller -- I think this book was the most relevant to my experience. It was the story of an American woman in her mid-30's who moved to Japan for a year to try to report on japanese culture, and did so by living with a traditional Japanese family. Much of her story is her strugge against the Mother of the family, which truly, is a wonderful metaphor for her struggle against/within the culture as a whole. I will be recommending this book to all of my Japanese-American friends who struggle against their mothers (that would be all of them, to my knowledge) because I read about so many of the arguments my friends have described, but they were explained through the eyes of a cultural anthropologist. It made so much more sense.
- The Teahouse Fire: A Novel, by Ellis Avery -- I picked this one up at SFO before we left. Set in Kyoto during the turn of the 19th century, it told the story of a young Franco-American girl from New York whose mother dies immediately after she is brought to Japan by her uncle, a Catholic Missionary. After a fire, she runs away, feigns ignorance of her origins to escape her horrid uncle and ends up working as a servant to one of the great tea-ceremony families. The cultural and historical details were breathtaking and the story was gripping. It's a great book, even if you won't be going to Kyoto while you are reading it. But if you are... you can visit temples, confectionaries where they make tea sweets, and Pontocho and imagine the world she describes so clearly as if it still exists.
- Kitchen, by Banana Yoshimote -- This book was a best-seller in Japan in the 1980s and the English version was received abroad equally as well after its translation. The lovely A recommended it (I believe), and I loved it. The main characters' voices were all simultaneously distant and honest, gentle, vulnerable, and yet resolute and obviously strong in a way that I have never encountered in fiction before. The stories were poignant, but simply told narratives describing the craziness of the major losses inherent in life, and the messiness of falling in love. Oh, and, of course, given the title, much of the focus was on food, its preparation and role in our lives, and all of that stuff, which we all know I love.
- Norwegian Wood, by Haruki Marakumi -- I ordered this book because it landed at the top of several searches I did on Amazon. I had already read his unique and fragmented Hard-boiled Wonderland and the End of the World and I enjoyed it. It was a bit of work to get through, which I expected for this one as well, but it was worth it. Imagine my surprise to find Norwegian Wood to be quite the opposite of Hard-Boiled, and instead a simple, one-man story of collegiate life in the 60's in Tokyo and the loves of his life, how they conflicted, innevitable loss, and the decisions he must make in the wake of such loss. I was struck by how much the voice of the main character had so many of the same qualities as the main female character in Kitchen. Only, at this point, after reading so much about Japan, that respectful distance I recognized in their voices made sense. It was respectful. I liked it. And, I liked Toru, the speaker, despite the fact that I may not like some of the actions he took, because he was so open and unapologetic. He did things even he deplored and then examined them while being open with his rationale. How could I not like him, even love him, despite (or perhaps because of) his honest flaws?
- A Year in Japan, by Kate T. Williamson, I opened this book on the Shinkansen from Nagano back to Tokyo to realize it was an art book. And it wasn't painful, stretching, BT-gets-it-and-loves-it-because-the-tormeneted-artist-beats-you-over-the-emotional-chasm-with-their-ability-to-communicate-in-an-invented-but-understood-language-art. No, it was light, and cheerful, and cute, and understandable sketches from an artist's year of living in Kyoto along with hand-written explanations of the pictures, and lots of detailed drawings of plants. I found the pictures and explanations adorable, the plants reminders of my aspirations of a garden at home upon my return, and the majority of the urban scenes to be excellent reminders of the quirks I experienced in Kyoto and occasionally informative about things I had questioned as I quickly read them on our bullet train out of Kyoto to Nagano. At any other time in my life, had I opened this book, I suspect I would not have been in the correct frame of mind to appreciate its value and I would have skimmed and closed it without a second thought. And yet, somehow, I ordered it, transported it across the oceans, and opened it at the correct time such that I sincerely enjoyed it and couldn't believe my luck and timing. Talk about a blessing!
- Squeamish about Sushi and other food adventures in Japan, by Betty Reynolds -- Unlike a Year in Japan, which I did not know was an arty-book 'til I opened it, this book I purchased with full knowledge. Pictures of food with Japanese words describing it? Sign me up. I made E sit and read it with me a few times before we left. He humored me. I think I will donate it to Miss E's classroom now.
And now, I'm back home. 6 books that I would be proud to include on my booklist as books I read this year in pursuit of my approximately 20 book challenge. 1 travel book as a resource that I can't claim because I didn't read it cover to cover. 2 arty-books I could claim if desperate. I'll wait 'til the end of the year to see if I need to claim the arty-books to hit 20. For now, I'll content myself with the fact that I'm on book 9 without 'em and it's only 4 months in. And, of course, now that I'm back to work, I'll resume my regularly scheduled program of finishing approximately 1 book per month or so.
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