Snippits from the South
The bathroom at ATL has Sharps containers. The explanation I received is that the incidence of diabetes is so high in this region that it is a public health necessity.
Yesterday, our lunch was at Waffle House. Today, E brought back Chick-Fil-A. These are the two things he claims to miss the most about the South, so we should be in good shape for a few days.
Yesterday, other than the obligatory Waffle House outing, E and I sat at our computers and silently worked all day in his childhood bedroom. Not too different from a Monday at our home office, actually.
Today, I woke early enough to attend a power yoga class at my favorite Atlanta yoga studio. It was a power yoga, and it was refreshing, in a way, to take a class that was so physical and focused very little on the spiritual, emotional, and mental aspects of yoga where my practice has been focused for the last 6 months.
Sometimes, it's nice just to mix it up. And this class was physically demanding unlike any yoga class I've taken in ages -- I was literally DRIPPING with sweat. At one point, I looked back at the thermostat and it read 102F. YIKES! Power yoga isn't supposed to be as hot as Bikram, but when it's a crowded class and 90F and 68% humidity outside, unless they turn on the air conditioner, I guess that's just what happens.
Interestingly, my last six months of advanced vinyasa once a week at the studio plus whatever I've been able to fit in on my own meant I was in much better shape for this type of practice than the last time I'd done it.
In fact, the instructor only led us through about half of the number of poses that my advanced vinyasa instructor leads us through in the same time period. I was tempted to feel like it was almost easy in comparison because I was able to hold all of the poses without falling out too much or needing to take a break.
But, no. When I finished I realized it wasn't actually easier at all. The exhaustion post class was much more than I'm used to. Probably because, um, my regular studio is typically around 70F. In an un-ecologically friendly non-stereotypically Californian fashion, my Californian yoga studio uses the air conditioner on hot days.
So, today's southern lesson is that a 32F increase in temperature (coupled with increased humidity) approximately halves the physical ability of my body.
Good to know.
August 24, 2010
Summer Salads
Mmmm...Garden tomatoes, garden onions, garden cucumbers, fresh baked bread, gorgonzola, capers, olive oil, sea salt and pepper.
More mmm...Garden tomatoes, garden onions, baked beets, chevre, lemon-honey vinaigrette.
And the most mmmm...A colorful selection of garden heirloom tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, garden basil, balsamic vinegar, olive oil from vino nocetto, black pepper and fancy salt flakes and coarse salt crystals (an awesome gift from E's sister).
Mmmm...Garden tomatoes, garden onions, garden cucumbers, fresh baked bread, gorgonzola, capers, olive oil, sea salt and pepper.
More mmm...Garden tomatoes, garden onions, baked beets, chevre, lemon-honey vinaigrette.
And the most mmmm...A colorful selection of garden heirloom tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, garden basil, balsamic vinegar, olive oil from vino nocetto, black pepper and fancy salt flakes and coarse salt crystals (an awesome gift from E's sister).
August 19, 2010
Woo Hoo!
I finally checked, and confirmed that the remaining 8 eggs in our fridge were not recalled.
Here's to small victories and one more reason I want my own egg-laying chickens!
I finally checked, and confirmed that the remaining 8 eggs in our fridge were not recalled.
Here's to small victories and one more reason I want my own egg-laying chickens!
August 14, 2010
Thoughts on Food Policy
As you may know, I'm emotionally and logically fascinated by food. Food enjoyment. Food systems. Food culture. Patterns of food consumption. Food politics. All of it, really.
Most of the time, I process it internally. It comes up in conversation and I share my views, what I know, personally, from trying to make the majority of my own food from fresh self- or locally-obtained ingredients, what I've gleaned from reading and travel, and what I recall from the rants of my 3rd-generation small-scale farmer of 80 acres grandfather who eventually terminated his farming operations for economic reasons (selling land to winemakers and leasing the remainder of the land, claiming, there's no living to be made in farming anymore).
E2 sent me a link to a great article today, that had several fascinating statements:
One sociologist calculated that people have ten times as many conversations at the farmers’ market than they do in the supermarket.
--Huh. I wonder what the Harvard Happiness Studies would do with this data. I'm guessing, based on extrapolation from the correlation between the number of neighbor interactions and self-reported happiness (which, by the way, blew me away), the Harvard Happiness studies would probably treat shopping at a farmer's market vs. shopping at a grocery store as a variable that was correlated with increased happiness. Happiness is not very well modeled in modern economics, but I thought it was an interesting point, nonetheless.
In his 2006 book Crunchy Cons, Rod Dreher identifies a strain of libertarian conservatism, often evangelical, that regards fast food as anathema to family values, and has seized on local food as a kind of culinary counterpart to home schooling.
--Holy Crap. Wow. Refusing to eat fast food is as much of a rejection of general social norms as endorsing home schooling? Wow. I had no idea. Is this guy off his rocker?
And on the Slow Food movement, this article dares to ask:
Ever the Italian, Petrini puts pleasure at the center of his politics, which might explain why Slow Food is not always taken as seriously as it deserves to be. For why shouldn’t pleasure figure in the politics of the food movement?
Here. here.
In a challenge to second-wave feminists who urged women to get out of the kitchen, Flammang suggests that by denigrating “foodwork”—everything involved in putting meals on the family table—we have unthinkingly wrecked one of the nurseries of democracy: the family meal.
--This seems outdated to me. Perhaps I live in a sheltered world, but the trend to me seems to be that people (and particularly my female friends and colleagues) are reaching out and adopting ways to re-learn forgotten food cultures of their ancestors, to re-engage with food pleasures, and, in general, these endeavors are seen as lofty goals, admirable, (and something to be capitalized upon by the marketers -- see the Eat Pray Love/Cost Plus partnership).
On the political value of breaking bread:
Flammang attributes some of the loss of civility in Washington to the aftermatch of the 1994 Republican Revolution, when Newt Gingrich, the new Speaker of the House, urged his freshman legislators not to move their families to Washington. Members now returned to their districts every weekend, sacrificing opportunities for socializing across party lines and, in the process, the “reservoirs of good will replenished at dinner parties.” It is much harder to vilify someone with whom you have shared a meal.
--I have experienced first-hand the value of many shared meals. While I am not remotely attached to Washington D.C. or its machinations, this explanation sounds reasonable to me.
Flammang points out that the historical priority of the American labor movement has been to fight for money, while the European labor movement has fought for time, which she suggests may have been the wiser choice.
--Interesting. Certainly, in deciding to start my own law practice, I opted for the latter. Whether I would have considered doing so without having lived in France and Italy, I'll never know. But, a very interesting perspective.
Overall, I appreciated the perspective and the points raised by this article. I may not have agreed with all of them, but I do think we, as a culture, should be discussing them, and I'm happy that they are being raised.
As you may know, I'm emotionally and logically fascinated by food. Food enjoyment. Food systems. Food culture. Patterns of food consumption. Food politics. All of it, really.
Most of the time, I process it internally. It comes up in conversation and I share my views, what I know, personally, from trying to make the majority of my own food from fresh self- or locally-obtained ingredients, what I've gleaned from reading and travel, and what I recall from the rants of my 3rd-generation small-scale farmer of 80 acres grandfather who eventually terminated his farming operations for economic reasons (selling land to winemakers and leasing the remainder of the land, claiming, there's no living to be made in farming anymore).
E2 sent me a link to a great article today, that had several fascinating statements:
One sociologist calculated that people have ten times as many conversations at the farmers’ market than they do in the supermarket.
--Huh. I wonder what the Harvard Happiness Studies would do with this data. I'm guessing, based on extrapolation from the correlation between the number of neighbor interactions and self-reported happiness (which, by the way, blew me away), the Harvard Happiness studies would probably treat shopping at a farmer's market vs. shopping at a grocery store as a variable that was correlated with increased happiness. Happiness is not very well modeled in modern economics, but I thought it was an interesting point, nonetheless.
In his 2006 book Crunchy Cons, Rod Dreher identifies a strain of libertarian conservatism, often evangelical, that regards fast food as anathema to family values, and has seized on local food as a kind of culinary counterpart to home schooling.
--Holy Crap. Wow. Refusing to eat fast food is as much of a rejection of general social norms as endorsing home schooling? Wow. I had no idea. Is this guy off his rocker?
And on the Slow Food movement, this article dares to ask:
Ever the Italian, Petrini puts pleasure at the center of his politics, which might explain why Slow Food is not always taken as seriously as it deserves to be. For why shouldn’t pleasure figure in the politics of the food movement?
Here. here.
In a challenge to second-wave feminists who urged women to get out of the kitchen, Flammang suggests that by denigrating “foodwork”—everything involved in putting meals on the family table—we have unthinkingly wrecked one of the nurseries of democracy: the family meal.
--This seems outdated to me. Perhaps I live in a sheltered world, but the trend to me seems to be that people (and particularly my female friends and colleagues) are reaching out and adopting ways to re-learn forgotten food cultures of their ancestors, to re-engage with food pleasures, and, in general, these endeavors are seen as lofty goals, admirable, (and something to be capitalized upon by the marketers -- see the Eat Pray Love/Cost Plus partnership).
On the political value of breaking bread:
Flammang attributes some of the loss of civility in Washington to the aftermatch of the 1994 Republican Revolution, when Newt Gingrich, the new Speaker of the House, urged his freshman legislators not to move their families to Washington. Members now returned to their districts every weekend, sacrificing opportunities for socializing across party lines and, in the process, the “reservoirs of good will replenished at dinner parties.” It is much harder to vilify someone with whom you have shared a meal.
--I have experienced first-hand the value of many shared meals. While I am not remotely attached to Washington D.C. or its machinations, this explanation sounds reasonable to me.
Flammang points out that the historical priority of the American labor movement has been to fight for money, while the European labor movement has fought for time, which she suggests may have been the wiser choice.
--Interesting. Certainly, in deciding to start my own law practice, I opted for the latter. Whether I would have considered doing so without having lived in France and Italy, I'll never know. But, a very interesting perspective.
Overall, I appreciated the perspective and the points raised by this article. I may not have agreed with all of them, but I do think we, as a culture, should be discussing them, and I'm happy that they are being raised.
August 11, 2010
A Good Response
I had my first acupuncture appointment today.
I had 11 points where needles were gently inserted, mainly on my legs and arms, but one on my forehead and one in each ear.
It was quite a strange experience.
Immediately after the acupuncturist left the room and instructed me to try to sleep, I started crying. Hard. For 7 or 10 minutes. I very rarely cry. But I *really* missed my dad and had no choice. So I cried.
And then it was done.
And I was so relieved.
The rest of the 40 minutes was spent with me alternating between checking in with my various body parts and trying to see how they felt and what was going on (tingling? pressure? twitching?), and me realizing I was feeling very intense emotions and then trying to observe the emotions without judgment.
I basically didn't move and tried to breathe and relax and pseudo-meditate for 40 minutes.
The most interesting events where when I recognized I was feeling angry and then literally felt as if the anger was being pulled through the needle in my left foot. It left me too tired to be angry.
10 minutes or so later, I almost fell asleep only to be woken by the sensation of white light coming through my feet to my skull -- it was so strong and overpowering that I opened my eyes and made certain I knew where I was, yup, still at the acupuncturist.
Overall, I can say that I was jittery at the end of the session, and not at all what is the typical response -- relaxed. Oddly, this was a more emotionally charged experience than any psychological therapy session in which I'd ever participated.
My acupuncturist commented that it was normal for people to cry on the drive home, particularly after their first visit. But, that since I'd already cried on the table (which was apparently not super common and that's why she hadn't warned me), she didn't know if the warning was relevant.
I made the drive home without any threat of tears.
And now, after a pleasant chat with Arvay and dinner with E, I've calmed from the session, and I must say, I feel more balanced, calm, and safe than I have in quite some time.
I look forward to continuing this experiment.
I had my first acupuncture appointment today.
I had 11 points where needles were gently inserted, mainly on my legs and arms, but one on my forehead and one in each ear.
It was quite a strange experience.
Immediately after the acupuncturist left the room and instructed me to try to sleep, I started crying. Hard. For 7 or 10 minutes. I very rarely cry. But I *really* missed my dad and had no choice. So I cried.
And then it was done.
And I was so relieved.
The rest of the 40 minutes was spent with me alternating between checking in with my various body parts and trying to see how they felt and what was going on (tingling? pressure? twitching?), and me realizing I was feeling very intense emotions and then trying to observe the emotions without judgment.
I basically didn't move and tried to breathe and relax and pseudo-meditate for 40 minutes.
The most interesting events where when I recognized I was feeling angry and then literally felt as if the anger was being pulled through the needle in my left foot. It left me too tired to be angry.
10 minutes or so later, I almost fell asleep only to be woken by the sensation of white light coming through my feet to my skull -- it was so strong and overpowering that I opened my eyes and made certain I knew where I was, yup, still at the acupuncturist.
Overall, I can say that I was jittery at the end of the session, and not at all what is the typical response -- relaxed. Oddly, this was a more emotionally charged experience than any psychological therapy session in which I'd ever participated.
My acupuncturist commented that it was normal for people to cry on the drive home, particularly after their first visit. But, that since I'd already cried on the table (which was apparently not super common and that's why she hadn't warned me), she didn't know if the warning was relevant.
I made the drive home without any threat of tears.
And now, after a pleasant chat with Arvay and dinner with E, I've calmed from the session, and I must say, I feel more balanced, calm, and safe than I have in quite some time.
I look forward to continuing this experiment.
August 8, 2010
Tomatoes!
The latest garden and tomato update is at Tech Law Garden.
I'm running out of shelves to store canned goods, so E is going to build me a storage shelf in the garage.
I consider this a garden victory of sorts.
The latest garden and tomato update is at Tech Law Garden.
I'm running out of shelves to store canned goods, so E is going to build me a storage shelf in the garage.
I consider this a garden victory of sorts.
August 5, 2010
The Best Kind of Procrastination
I've been light on posting, not because work has been busy. In fact, prior to this Monday, the last two weeks have been relatively slow for the first time since I started the business, which has been wonderful.
In this slow time, I did many things (except blog).
I read several books.
I canned pickles and garden vegetables.
I focused on a very regular work-out schedule (and I finally seem to be gaining some of the fitness benefits that had been evading me).
I've also been very social, first catching up with friends and spending time with E, and then, attending several very cool networking events where I've met some amazing founders, venture capitalists, angel investors, and even a few recognizable faces (you know, silicon valley mini-stars).
But, most importantly, I took the downtime to plan not one, but several vacations. For the first time since Alaska last July, E and I are going to get away. Travel porn -- oh, how I love to read and learn about far away places.
In less than a month, we'll be going to visit E's family for over a week in Atlanta and north Georgia. Then, in October, we'll be going to Honolulu and Maui (I've never been to Maui!) to celebrate 10 years of togetherness and to visit friends, and chill and eat and drink and relax in the sand and surf.
But the biggest vacation, after more than two years of false starts, we're headed to South America in December and January. Argentina New Years, here we come!
Planning travel takes way more time than I remembered. It's only now, two weeks after I've scheduled all of our flights and overnight bus rides, reserved all of our rental apartments, hotels, and/or intentionally left some nights open for driving to small towns and taking what we can find, researched visas between countries, and spent countless hours reading about places to go and things to do that I finally recalled just how long it actually took me to plan our trip to Asia in 2008. I'd forgotten the planning, but have tons of memories from that amazing experience, and I'm hopeful these trips will leave me with similar memories.
So, if you've got suggestions for things we should do (or eat!) in Atlanta, Honolulu, Maui, Buenos Aires, Iguazu, Mendoza, Bariloche, or Punta del Este -- let me know!
Yay!
I've been light on posting, not because work has been busy. In fact, prior to this Monday, the last two weeks have been relatively slow for the first time since I started the business, which has been wonderful.
In this slow time, I did many things (except blog).
I read several books.
I canned pickles and garden vegetables.
I focused on a very regular work-out schedule (and I finally seem to be gaining some of the fitness benefits that had been evading me).
I've also been very social, first catching up with friends and spending time with E, and then, attending several very cool networking events where I've met some amazing founders, venture capitalists, angel investors, and even a few recognizable faces (you know, silicon valley mini-stars).
But, most importantly, I took the downtime to plan not one, but several vacations. For the first time since Alaska last July, E and I are going to get away. Travel porn -- oh, how I love to read and learn about far away places.
In less than a month, we'll be going to visit E's family for over a week in Atlanta and north Georgia. Then, in October, we'll be going to Honolulu and Maui (I've never been to Maui!) to celebrate 10 years of togetherness and to visit friends, and chill and eat and drink and relax in the sand and surf.
But the biggest vacation, after more than two years of false starts, we're headed to South America in December and January. Argentina New Years, here we come!
Planning travel takes way more time than I remembered. It's only now, two weeks after I've scheduled all of our flights and overnight bus rides, reserved all of our rental apartments, hotels, and/or intentionally left some nights open for driving to small towns and taking what we can find, researched visas between countries, and spent countless hours reading about places to go and things to do that I finally recalled just how long it actually took me to plan our trip to Asia in 2008. I'd forgotten the planning, but have tons of memories from that amazing experience, and I'm hopeful these trips will leave me with similar memories.
So, if you've got suggestions for things we should do (or eat!) in Atlanta, Honolulu, Maui, Buenos Aires, Iguazu, Mendoza, Bariloche, or Punta del Este -- let me know!
Yay!
July 30, 2010
Homemade Birthday Bounty
This year, my birthday celebration was all about food.
First, on Saturday, E2 and I made mozzarella from scratch, using ingredients from the Cheesemaking Kit I bought myself as a present.
For milk, I splurged on whole cream-topped milk from Straus Family Creamery.
After following the first half of the recipe, I was shocked to see that it looked like we may actually succeed on our first attempt:
The curds stretched, just like they were supposed to.
So we stretched them some more.
Meanwhile gorgeous salted garden tomatoes lay in waiting.
We tasted the cheese and could not believe how rich and creamy it was. So, quickly, before we ate it all, we prepared our first course of caprese made of garden basil, garden tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, California Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar from Modena.
MMMmmmmm... Homemade Birthday Happiness.
This year, my birthday celebration was all about food.
First, on Saturday, E2 and I made mozzarella from scratch, using ingredients from the Cheesemaking Kit I bought myself as a present.
For milk, I splurged on whole cream-topped milk from Straus Family Creamery.
After following the first half of the recipe, I was shocked to see that it looked like we may actually succeed on our first attempt:
The curds stretched, just like they were supposed to.
So we stretched them some more.
Meanwhile gorgeous salted garden tomatoes lay in waiting.
We tasted the cheese and could not believe how rich and creamy it was. So, quickly, before we ate it all, we prepared our first course of caprese made of garden basil, garden tomatoes, homemade mozzarella, California Olive Oil and Balsamic Vinegar from Modena.
MMMmmmmm... Homemade Birthday Happiness.
July 25, 2010
Space
One of the concepts I've been working with lately is the idea of living a life with plenty of space. Temporal space. Physical space. Respectful space that allows other people to have their own life experience while protecting me from unwanted invaders in my life experience.
And, most importantly, the practice of patience to allow things to change or transition within the spaces I've created.
One of the areas of my life where I've been looking for a change is the frequency of my workouts. Life has thrown me quite a few curve balls, and I've pitched a few myself in the last 12 months. I dealt with this by taking time and discipline from my workout regime and placing it elsewhere in my life.
For the short term, that worked.
But now, as time goes on, I'm needing the emotional and physical stability that a regular workout schedule provides me. For the last month or so, I've been trying to get back into a more disciplined and regular work-out regime.
Turns out, trying is not the same as doing, and I was not making progress.
Rather than being disappointed with myself for failing to meet the goals I'd set (which is a traditional approach for me) and trying to motivate myself to change. I took a different approach.
I created space for my workouts:
-I joined a gym for the first time since 2006.
-And, I gave myself the time and space and permission to *just walk* instead of run if that's what feels good.
Somehow, without a struggle, in the space I created, I managed to log my first 30+ mile week in 2010 last week. Excellent!
Here's to more space!
One of the concepts I've been working with lately is the idea of living a life with plenty of space. Temporal space. Physical space. Respectful space that allows other people to have their own life experience while protecting me from unwanted invaders in my life experience.
And, most importantly, the practice of patience to allow things to change or transition within the spaces I've created.
One of the areas of my life where I've been looking for a change is the frequency of my workouts. Life has thrown me quite a few curve balls, and I've pitched a few myself in the last 12 months. I dealt with this by taking time and discipline from my workout regime and placing it elsewhere in my life.
For the short term, that worked.
But now, as time goes on, I'm needing the emotional and physical stability that a regular workout schedule provides me. For the last month or so, I've been trying to get back into a more disciplined and regular work-out regime.
Turns out, trying is not the same as doing, and I was not making progress.
Rather than being disappointed with myself for failing to meet the goals I'd set (which is a traditional approach for me) and trying to motivate myself to change. I took a different approach.
I created space for my workouts:
-I joined a gym for the first time since 2006.
-And, I gave myself the time and space and permission to *just walk* instead of run if that's what feels good.
Somehow, without a struggle, in the space I created, I managed to log my first 30+ mile week in 2010 last week. Excellent!
Here's to more space!
July 20, 2010
July 15, 2010
The Devil You Know
I read just about everything that Havi writes and often nod in agreement. Occasionally, I don't like what she's written and I have interesting conversations with myself about why.
Without ever having met me, she teaches me things about myself that I didn't know through her writing.
Her most recent posts on exiting the middle resonated with me.
For the few moments each day when I'm there, being conscious of the moment and acting where action makes sense (and only where action makes sense) is a blissful existence. Each day that goes by, I find myself more grounded and comfortable in the midst of chaos than I used to be. Incrementally, I'm a little bit more able to just act and breathe in the moment.
And yet, every day. I get pulled into drama. I dwell. I get upset. I work myself up.
And then, eventually, I observe this, and try not to judge, but just notice what I'm doing by asking myself questions and giving myself the freedom to be honest. Where am I? Why am I upset? What can I change? What can't I change? What do I want? Why do I want it? Is it a need? Is there something I can give myself to meet that need?
Havi's concept of the middle, where a post-beginner *struggles* to become advanced, or where the hero *struggles* to prevail, where one partner *struggles* to fix the relationship, where each of us *struggles* against the people in our lives we perceive to have harmed us, and most importantly, we *struggle* against who we think we should be -- it is a comfortable place for most of us. It is the devil we know.
Acceptance requires that we abandon the struggle and just act in response to the reality that exists, no matter how different from our ideas, annoying, terrible, unpleasant, distasteful, scary, or boring we may find it to be. If we cannot make the change we want to see, we make a different change, or perhaps accept that no change is available.
As I've written before, my yoga practice has evolved from one where I was seeking great teachers and amazing classes (against which I could struggle) into one where I find a great yoga experience in any class I take or any time I opt to practice, no matter how short it may be.
But unlike a studio-based yoga practice (which provides a supportive calm environment for growth and change) in the real world, actions based in acceptance are guaranteed to cause unpredictable, and potentially uncomfortable, changes.
Most humans, even if supremely unhappy, will always choose the devil they know. This explains why so many of us stay in, as Havi calls it, the "Middle."
How great to be reminded that to exit the middle is as simple as becoming conscious. This is not to say the exit is guaranteed to be pleasant -- it very well may be an unpleasant devil you don't know. But, at a minimum, it will be different, and you will not be *stuck* in the same *struggle*.
Fascinating stuff.
I read just about everything that Havi writes and often nod in agreement. Occasionally, I don't like what she's written and I have interesting conversations with myself about why.
Without ever having met me, she teaches me things about myself that I didn't know through her writing.
Her most recent posts on exiting the middle resonated with me.
For the few moments each day when I'm there, being conscious of the moment and acting where action makes sense (and only where action makes sense) is a blissful existence. Each day that goes by, I find myself more grounded and comfortable in the midst of chaos than I used to be. Incrementally, I'm a little bit more able to just act and breathe in the moment.
And yet, every day. I get pulled into drama. I dwell. I get upset. I work myself up.
And then, eventually, I observe this, and try not to judge, but just notice what I'm doing by asking myself questions and giving myself the freedom to be honest. Where am I? Why am I upset? What can I change? What can't I change? What do I want? Why do I want it? Is it a need? Is there something I can give myself to meet that need?
Havi's concept of the middle, where a post-beginner *struggles* to become advanced, or where the hero *struggles* to prevail, where one partner *struggles* to fix the relationship, where each of us *struggles* against the people in our lives we perceive to have harmed us, and most importantly, we *struggle* against who we think we should be -- it is a comfortable place for most of us. It is the devil we know.
Acceptance requires that we abandon the struggle and just act in response to the reality that exists, no matter how different from our ideas, annoying, terrible, unpleasant, distasteful, scary, or boring we may find it to be. If we cannot make the change we want to see, we make a different change, or perhaps accept that no change is available.
As I've written before, my yoga practice has evolved from one where I was seeking great teachers and amazing classes (against which I could struggle) into one where I find a great yoga experience in any class I take or any time I opt to practice, no matter how short it may be.
But unlike a studio-based yoga practice (which provides a supportive calm environment for growth and change) in the real world, actions based in acceptance are guaranteed to cause unpredictable, and potentially uncomfortable, changes.
Most humans, even if supremely unhappy, will always choose the devil they know. This explains why so many of us stay in, as Havi calls it, the "Middle."
How great to be reminded that to exit the middle is as simple as becoming conscious. This is not to say the exit is guaranteed to be pleasant -- it very well may be an unpleasant devil you don't know. But, at a minimum, it will be different, and you will not be *stuck* in the same *struggle*.
Fascinating stuff.
July 11, 2010
Garden Update
Per the norm, the latest Garden Update is available at Tech Law Garden.
In other news, I'm much too busy with work and life to blog about law over at the professional blog in the last several weeks.
Yet somehow, I make time for the garden.
What does this say...?
Per the norm, the latest Garden Update is available at Tech Law Garden.
In other news, I'm much too busy with work and life to blog about law over at the professional blog in the last several weeks.
Yet somehow, I make time for the garden.
What does this say...?
July 7, 2010
Luxury
I'm making my way through Home Cheese Making, and encountered this lovely quote:
A small garden, figs, a little cheese, and, along with this, three or four good friends -- such was luxury to Epicurus.
-- Friedrich Nietzsche
I wholeheartedly agree.
Yeah, Nietzsche was an unapologetic misogynist (My personal favorite? Woman is not yet capable of friendship: women are still cats and birds. Or, at best, cows -- Thus Spoke Zarathustra).
But, ignoring that fault, dude was a fairly decent judge of quality when he focused on males.
I'm making my way through Home Cheese Making, and encountered this lovely quote:
A small garden, figs, a little cheese, and, along with this, three or four good friends -- such was luxury to Epicurus.
-- Friedrich Nietzsche
I wholeheartedly agree.
Yeah, Nietzsche was an unapologetic misogynist (My personal favorite? Woman is not yet capable of friendship: women are still cats and birds. Or, at best, cows -- Thus Spoke Zarathustra).
But, ignoring that fault, dude was a fairly decent judge of quality when he focused on males.
July 4, 2010
Book Review: Farm City -- The Education of an Urban Farmer
Oh, joy!
Novella Carpenter's hilarious book about running an urban farm by squatting on a vacant plot of land near her home in Oakland (aka Ghost Town Farm) is enjoyable from beginning to end.
I loved reading this book after Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. The similarities are obvious, but the differences are amazing.
In particular, I loved to read how the ghetto and Novella's cause co-existed and embraced each other and eventually led her, through her dumpster diving, to a symbiotic relationship with a high-class restaurant from the Chez-Panisse lineage.
It was refreshing to read stories directly conflicting with Barbara's classification of culture wars between city and country. Clearly, the culture conflict that bothers both Barbara and Novella is much more complicated than simple geography or socio-economic status, as the embracing of the farm by some in the inner city and the thoughtless country slaughterhouse story in Novella's book demonstrate.
Of course, I couldn't help but think that in the country, Novella would have no trouble finding someone to kill and butcher her pig. In the city, this was a true conundrum and she ended up driving 3 hours to pay someone to do it in a somewhat heartless way. In the country, hunters who do their own butchering regularly kill and butcher animals significantly larger than her pigs. No doubt, if I had pigs, I could get some books and ask brother to talk me through the more "you-know-it-when-you-see-it" portions of the process, or I could call some of daddy's or brother's friends and they'd do it for me -- one of them (a former electrical lineman and one-time butcher) might even be talked into letting us use his garage with the built-in drain hole where brother and his friends who can't afford professional butcher fees end up slaughtering their deer if I could bribe his wife to put up with it (and I'm guessing Grandma Sherry would let herself be bribed...).
This personal knowledge of the country is what made me side with Barbara, initially. But Novella's tale rings true to my experience in the hoods of Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. Yes, I realize, the idea that there is or ever has been a hood where SOMA stands today is a bit difficult to process, but in 2000, I lived on an alley with a tent city. Granted, they were North Face tents. But they were still full of people with lighters under spoons and pipes who informed me that they'd protect my car because I was a nice neighbor.
Farm City is a book stuffed with Californian food history from the last several decades. If you are a bay-area or even Californian food history buff, this book will amuse you with its stories and additional color for things you thought you understood. The author studied for 2 years under Michael Pollan at UC Berkeley's school of Journalism, and yet, her message, story and voice are distinct enough from his that this fact is merely interesting, not an "of course she did."
This book is a gritty, honest, true-to-life tale of someone trying to live sustainably with an urban farm. It showed me that regardless of where you do it, my grandfather's saying was true, "Farming is the hardest business. You go bankrupt or, at best, it doesn't pay well. You only do it if you love it."
Oh, joy!
Novella Carpenter's hilarious book about running an urban farm by squatting on a vacant plot of land near her home in Oakland (aka Ghost Town Farm) is enjoyable from beginning to end.
I loved reading this book after Animal, Vegetable, Miracle. The similarities are obvious, but the differences are amazing.
In particular, I loved to read how the ghetto and Novella's cause co-existed and embraced each other and eventually led her, through her dumpster diving, to a symbiotic relationship with a high-class restaurant from the Chez-Panisse lineage.
It was refreshing to read stories directly conflicting with Barbara's classification of culture wars between city and country. Clearly, the culture conflict that bothers both Barbara and Novella is much more complicated than simple geography or socio-economic status, as the embracing of the farm by some in the inner city and the thoughtless country slaughterhouse story in Novella's book demonstrate.
Of course, I couldn't help but think that in the country, Novella would have no trouble finding someone to kill and butcher her pig. In the city, this was a true conundrum and she ended up driving 3 hours to pay someone to do it in a somewhat heartless way. In the country, hunters who do their own butchering regularly kill and butcher animals significantly larger than her pigs. No doubt, if I had pigs, I could get some books and ask brother to talk me through the more "you-know-it-when-you-see-it" portions of the process, or I could call some of daddy's or brother's friends and they'd do it for me -- one of them (a former electrical lineman and one-time butcher) might even be talked into letting us use his garage with the built-in drain hole where brother and his friends who can't afford professional butcher fees end up slaughtering their deer if I could bribe his wife to put up with it (and I'm guessing Grandma Sherry would let herself be bribed...).
This personal knowledge of the country is what made me side with Barbara, initially. But Novella's tale rings true to my experience in the hoods of Berkeley, Oakland and San Francisco. Yes, I realize, the idea that there is or ever has been a hood where SOMA stands today is a bit difficult to process, but in 2000, I lived on an alley with a tent city. Granted, they were North Face tents. But they were still full of people with lighters under spoons and pipes who informed me that they'd protect my car because I was a nice neighbor.
Farm City is a book stuffed with Californian food history from the last several decades. If you are a bay-area or even Californian food history buff, this book will amuse you with its stories and additional color for things you thought you understood. The author studied for 2 years under Michael Pollan at UC Berkeley's school of Journalism, and yet, her message, story and voice are distinct enough from his that this fact is merely interesting, not an "of course she did."
This book is a gritty, honest, true-to-life tale of someone trying to live sustainably with an urban farm. It showed me that regardless of where you do it, my grandfather's saying was true, "Farming is the hardest business. You go bankrupt or, at best, it doesn't pay well. You only do it if you love it."
July 3, 2010
A Holiday Weekend
June was a whirlwind month for me.
At the law firm, I had to bill around 180-200 hours in a month before I really started to feel like work was pushing my life out the door.
As a solo, that number is much, much lower. I just totaled my billable hours worked for clients last month and it was a mere 139.5. But it felt like 220 at a law firm.
Business development, invoicing, making referrals, traveling to meet onsite -- all of these things were not required when I was an associate at a law firm, but now they are, and they take time (non-billable time, that is).
I definitely prefer my life as a solo over my life at the law firm, but a big end of quarter month is exhausting in either case.
Thankfully, my country's long weekend to celebrate its independence comes at the end of the fiscal quarter. And I'm off to a great start -- I decided not to attend any social events, and instead I'm sleeping in, gardening, doing chores, picking up our wine club shipment (4 months since we've last been in...), and in general puttering around the house without a schedule. It feels great.
Tomorrow, E & I will spend the fourth of July at home for the first time that either of us can remember in a long time. And, bonus, I get to share the celebration with my brother too!
June was a whirlwind month for me.
At the law firm, I had to bill around 180-200 hours in a month before I really started to feel like work was pushing my life out the door.
As a solo, that number is much, much lower. I just totaled my billable hours worked for clients last month and it was a mere 139.5. But it felt like 220 at a law firm.
Business development, invoicing, making referrals, traveling to meet onsite -- all of these things were not required when I was an associate at a law firm, but now they are, and they take time (non-billable time, that is).
I definitely prefer my life as a solo over my life at the law firm, but a big end of quarter month is exhausting in either case.
Thankfully, my country's long weekend to celebrate its independence comes at the end of the fiscal quarter. And I'm off to a great start -- I decided not to attend any social events, and instead I'm sleeping in, gardening, doing chores, picking up our wine club shipment (4 months since we've last been in...), and in general puttering around the house without a schedule. It feels great.
Tomorrow, E & I will spend the fourth of July at home for the first time that either of us can remember in a long time. And, bonus, I get to share the celebration with my brother too!
June 25, 2010
Time Keeps On Moving...
The inexorable march of the clock keeps going, and it is amazingly powerful.
I am shocked to learn that it has been more than 7 years in our house for E and me, meaning more than 7 years of BBQ season, capped with more than 3 months as a solo practitioner, and no more than 1 hour since my last discussion with a client who needed my help (I have several right now -- the end of the fiscal quarter makes me quite popular)...
I can't help but think I need to spend more time in pause. Breathing. Taking time. Being alive. Before life takes me (as it eventually takes us all).
The end of the fiscal quarter is a good time to look frenetic chasing of time in the face if you are a transactional attorney.
Because... Wow. It turns out, I need very little. So I'm not acting out of need. And yet. If I don't breathe and pay attention -- it sure feels like I need very much.
The inexorable march of the clock keeps going, and it is amazingly powerful.
I am shocked to learn that it has been more than 7 years in our house for E and me, meaning more than 7 years of BBQ season, capped with more than 3 months as a solo practitioner, and no more than 1 hour since my last discussion with a client who needed my help (I have several right now -- the end of the fiscal quarter makes me quite popular)...
I can't help but think I need to spend more time in pause. Breathing. Taking time. Being alive. Before life takes me (as it eventually takes us all).
The end of the fiscal quarter is a good time to look frenetic chasing of time in the face if you are a transactional attorney.
Because... Wow. It turns out, I need very little. So I'm not acting out of need. And yet. If I don't breathe and pay attention -- it sure feels like I need very much.
June 22, 2010
Happy Solstice!
Summer is here and bringing its usual treats: lots of social stuff.
Last weekend's trip to Sonoma with E's family was gluttonous, relaxing, and wonderful.
A 1999 Barolo we'd been storing was an excellent complement to the meat and dessert courses we shared with E's family for the father's day celebration at Cyrus.
Our wine fridge is restocked, and I have new favorite winery in Sonoma: Passalacqua -- gorgeous grounds, excellent small production wines that you can only buy on site, friendly staff, discounts for wine club membership, and reasonable prices, what's not to like?
Next weekend, I'm off to Seattle to run the rock 'n roll half marathon with a friend I haven't seen in several months. It'll be her first half, and I'm excited to share it with her.
And, of course, the end of the fiscal quarter is doing what it does: burying me with work.
So, I'll probably be fairly quiet on the blogfront until July (when I hope to have ripe tomatoes!).
Summer is here and bringing its usual treats: lots of social stuff.
Last weekend's trip to Sonoma with E's family was gluttonous, relaxing, and wonderful.
A 1999 Barolo we'd been storing was an excellent complement to the meat and dessert courses we shared with E's family for the father's day celebration at Cyrus.
Our wine fridge is restocked, and I have new favorite winery in Sonoma: Passalacqua -- gorgeous grounds, excellent small production wines that you can only buy on site, friendly staff, discounts for wine club membership, and reasonable prices, what's not to like?
Next weekend, I'm off to Seattle to run the rock 'n roll half marathon with a friend I haven't seen in several months. It'll be her first half, and I'm excited to share it with her.
And, of course, the end of the fiscal quarter is doing what it does: burying me with work.
So, I'll probably be fairly quiet on the blogfront until July (when I hope to have ripe tomatoes!).
June 16, 2010
Book Review: Animal, Vegetable, Mineral
When I called to E to read him yet another passage from this book the other night, he replied with a grin,
You've got a complete girl-crush on Barbara Kingsolver
And it's true. I've sincerely enjoyed all of the other books of hers that I've read. I've heard the complaint that her writing can be a bit preachy, and that may be fair. But since I don't find her gospel particularly offensive, when she slips in that direction, I tend to forgive her. Also, her later writings (such as this one, in 2007) have a much broader perspective and lack the lecturing that may have turned folks off in her earlier works.
But this book was different. This one was autobiographical, so I wasn't just enjoying her writing, I was actually enjoying her life. And, it just so happens that this portion of her life is the story of a rural-rooted urban-educated woman undertaking a food and farm adventure that is squarely after my own heart.
As a gardener and food enthusiast with a desire for scientific and empirical explanations for decisions in those areas, I couldn't wait to turn the pages to see what she'd show me next about the complexities of the food system that feeds us (the local food business, the multinational agribusiness, and the details you learn from growing, tending, harvesting, and preparing the majority of your own food).
On the whole, it was entertaining, educational, and inspirational. I can't wait to apply some of the recipes to my harvest this year.
Plus, her turns of phrase were often so clever and entertaining that I'd grin to myself with pleasure. She chose *that* word to describe *that*? How wonderful!
In short, this book was a joy for me. If you think it may be for you as well, I've included some of my favorite quotes to help you decide whether you'd like to dive in:
Plants have the karmic advantage of creating their own food out of pure air and sunlight, whereas we animals, lacking green chlorophyll in our skin, must eat some formerly living things every single day.
The antipathy in our culture between the urban and the nonurban is so durable, it has its own vocabulary: (A) city slicker, tenderfoot; (B) hick, redneck, hayseed, bumpkin, rube, yokel, clodhopper, hoecake, hillbilly, Dogpatch, Daisy Mae, farmer's daughter, from the provinces, something out of Deliverance. Maybe you see where I'm going with this. The list is lopsided. I don't think there's much doubt on either side, as to which class is winning the culture wars.
Wendell Berry summed it up much better than "blue and red" in one line of dialogue from his novel Jayber Crow, which is peopled by farmers struggling to survive on what the modern, mostly urban market will pay for food. After watching nearly all the farms in the country go bankrupt, one of these men comments: "I've wished sometimes that the sons of bitches would starve. And now I'm getting afraid they actually will."
On Italy:
It's a culture that sweeps you in, sits you down in the kitchen, and feeds you so well you really don't want to leave.
Here's to summer and making good use of the tomato recipes in this book!
When I called to E to read him yet another passage from this book the other night, he replied with a grin,
You've got a complete girl-crush on Barbara Kingsolver
And it's true. I've sincerely enjoyed all of the other books of hers that I've read. I've heard the complaint that her writing can be a bit preachy, and that may be fair. But since I don't find her gospel particularly offensive, when she slips in that direction, I tend to forgive her. Also, her later writings (such as this one, in 2007) have a much broader perspective and lack the lecturing that may have turned folks off in her earlier works.
But this book was different. This one was autobiographical, so I wasn't just enjoying her writing, I was actually enjoying her life. And, it just so happens that this portion of her life is the story of a rural-rooted urban-educated woman undertaking a food and farm adventure that is squarely after my own heart.
As a gardener and food enthusiast with a desire for scientific and empirical explanations for decisions in those areas, I couldn't wait to turn the pages to see what she'd show me next about the complexities of the food system that feeds us (the local food business, the multinational agribusiness, and the details you learn from growing, tending, harvesting, and preparing the majority of your own food).
On the whole, it was entertaining, educational, and inspirational. I can't wait to apply some of the recipes to my harvest this year.
Plus, her turns of phrase were often so clever and entertaining that I'd grin to myself with pleasure. She chose *that* word to describe *that*? How wonderful!
In short, this book was a joy for me. If you think it may be for you as well, I've included some of my favorite quotes to help you decide whether you'd like to dive in:
Plants have the karmic advantage of creating their own food out of pure air and sunlight, whereas we animals, lacking green chlorophyll in our skin, must eat some formerly living things every single day.
The antipathy in our culture between the urban and the nonurban is so durable, it has its own vocabulary: (A) city slicker, tenderfoot; (B) hick, redneck, hayseed, bumpkin, rube, yokel, clodhopper, hoecake, hillbilly, Dogpatch, Daisy Mae, farmer's daughter, from the provinces, something out of Deliverance. Maybe you see where I'm going with this. The list is lopsided. I don't think there's much doubt on either side, as to which class is winning the culture wars.
Wendell Berry summed it up much better than "blue and red" in one line of dialogue from his novel Jayber Crow, which is peopled by farmers struggling to survive on what the modern, mostly urban market will pay for food. After watching nearly all the farms in the country go bankrupt, one of these men comments: "I've wished sometimes that the sons of bitches would starve. And now I'm getting afraid they actually will."
On Italy:
It's a culture that sweeps you in, sits you down in the kitchen, and feeds you so well you really don't want to leave.
Here's to summer and making good use of the tomato recipes in this book!
June 10, 2010
Gilroy Delights
For Memorial Day weekend, E and I headed down to Monterey for a weekend away. Along the way, we decided to stop in Gilroy (you know, the Garlic Capital of the World?) for lunch.
Previously, my exposure to Gilroy had been a trip to the outlets to buy clothes for my summer associate gig, and a stop at the The Garlic Shoppe with E2 on one of our drives back from a visit to my gran.
This time, E and I headed to the downtown. I knew there was a Caltrain station, so I figured it had to have an adjacent downtown, just like most of the towns on the peninsula with historic train depots.
We couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised. First, it was a gorgeous sunny day, and we enjoyed our walk around the quiet downtown while searching for a lunch spot. Second, we quickly found our way to the The Pet Peddler (how great is that name? E could not stop snickering...) where I exclaimed for the millionth time, I want baby chicks:
They also had adults, to help me understand that baby chicks wouldn't always be this cute:
From there, we found our way to the Lizarran Tapas (Pinxtos) restaurant. It was, quite honestly, some of the best Spanish food I've ever had (including in Spain).
We both opted to start with a bowl of Salmorejo, which the menu described as a cold tomato and bread soup (like gazpacho):
More like gazpacho and an entree of meat and eggs and bread all in the same bowl. But damn... so delicious.
From there, we shared a Spanish charcuterie and cheese plate (which was probably completely unnecessary):
And, as if that wasn't enough, we also shared a dish of grilled octopus over potatoes (E can't help but order Pulpo -- it's his favorite):
We were full after the soup, but we forced ourselves to finish all of the meats, cheeses, and octopus because it was just that good. It didn't hurt that we had the courtyard to ourselves:
While we were slowly finishing the last bites, we enjoyed a tour of the restaurant. It turns out, the building was the original Gilroy City Hall:
Which means the bathroom experience is very unique:
and the wine cellar is the old town safe:
The server asked us where we were from when he saw me taking pictures, and when we told him, he seemed surprised. He asked why we chose to leave the highway and come into the town. And frankly, we didn't have a good answer other than, uhh... because we were hungry and it was on the way to Monterey and we didn't want to eat fast food. But next time, we'll have a much better answer. We'll say that we stopped, on purpose, on our way to Monterey, because this restaurant experience is so good that it is worth the pause on the drive.
Oh, and of course, I have to share gratuitous beach pictures from the trip.
The view from Highway 1, headed into Monterey Bay:
The view from the restaurant in the Best Western in Sand City (highly recommended for a stop on your way out of town):
The beach below the Best Western's retaining wall on the North end of Monterey Bay (looking across you can see the harbor and Pacific Grove):
Entering the beach from the immense protection of the retaining wall:
California is a wonderfully diverse and gorgeous place.
For Memorial Day weekend, E and I headed down to Monterey for a weekend away. Along the way, we decided to stop in Gilroy (you know, the Garlic Capital of the World?) for lunch.
Previously, my exposure to Gilroy had been a trip to the outlets to buy clothes for my summer associate gig, and a stop at the The Garlic Shoppe with E2 on one of our drives back from a visit to my gran.
This time, E and I headed to the downtown. I knew there was a Caltrain station, so I figured it had to have an adjacent downtown, just like most of the towns on the peninsula with historic train depots.
We couldn't have been more pleasantly surprised. First, it was a gorgeous sunny day, and we enjoyed our walk around the quiet downtown while searching for a lunch spot. Second, we quickly found our way to the The Pet Peddler (how great is that name? E could not stop snickering...) where I exclaimed for the millionth time, I want baby chicks:
They also had adults, to help me understand that baby chicks wouldn't always be this cute:
From there, we found our way to the Lizarran Tapas (Pinxtos) restaurant. It was, quite honestly, some of the best Spanish food I've ever had (including in Spain).
We both opted to start with a bowl of Salmorejo, which the menu described as a cold tomato and bread soup (like gazpacho):
More like gazpacho and an entree of meat and eggs and bread all in the same bowl. But damn... so delicious.
From there, we shared a Spanish charcuterie and cheese plate (which was probably completely unnecessary):
And, as if that wasn't enough, we also shared a dish of grilled octopus over potatoes (E can't help but order Pulpo -- it's his favorite):
We were full after the soup, but we forced ourselves to finish all of the meats, cheeses, and octopus because it was just that good. It didn't hurt that we had the courtyard to ourselves:
While we were slowly finishing the last bites, we enjoyed a tour of the restaurant. It turns out, the building was the original Gilroy City Hall:
Which means the bathroom experience is very unique:
and the wine cellar is the old town safe:
The server asked us where we were from when he saw me taking pictures, and when we told him, he seemed surprised. He asked why we chose to leave the highway and come into the town. And frankly, we didn't have a good answer other than, uhh... because we were hungry and it was on the way to Monterey and we didn't want to eat fast food. But next time, we'll have a much better answer. We'll say that we stopped, on purpose, on our way to Monterey, because this restaurant experience is so good that it is worth the pause on the drive.
Oh, and of course, I have to share gratuitous beach pictures from the trip.
The view from Highway 1, headed into Monterey Bay:
The view from the restaurant in the Best Western in Sand City (highly recommended for a stop on your way out of town):
The beach below the Best Western's retaining wall on the North end of Monterey Bay (looking across you can see the harbor and Pacific Grove):
Entering the beach from the immense protection of the retaining wall:
California is a wonderfully diverse and gorgeous place.
So Busy
But, there's an update on our garden over at Tech Law Garden.
And...
I've got grand plans to post about our Memorial day trip, soon...
But, there's an update on our garden over at Tech Law Garden.
And...
I've got grand plans to post about our Memorial day trip, soon...
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