So after procrastinating for almost a year, I finally updated my iPad to OS 8.2. I love it! I use an external keyboard when I'm writing, so I haven't been able to fully take advantage of the additional features in Pages, but I will when I'm able to edit words like pate fermentee, which is properly written pâté fermentée. I have yet to update my iPhone, I suppose I will have to take the plunge soon.
Last night, after what turned out to be a great workout at the gym, I broke into our inaugural batch of soap. We were intending on curing it for four weeks, but needs must and all that. I am very pleased with the lather, which has a combination of large bubbles that build into a thick layer on the skin, and then rinses cleanly. If there is any tweaking to be done, I think we'll switch to a 7% lye discount formula for a bar that's intended to be moisturizing, and for facial bars. At 5% lye discount, this bar makes you feel clean without being astringent. I intensely dislike moisturizing soaps that leave you feeling unclean when they're rinsed from the skin. I'd prefer to apply lotion separately to the area's of my body that might need it.
Glossary: lye discount - the difference between the oils and NaOH sodium hydroxide in a soap formula, in which, more oil/fat is present than is required to complete the saponification reaction. The remainder of the oils/fats is available to soften, or moisturize the skin when the bar is used. This term is use synonymously with super-fatting in soap making, however, you can add fats and oils at the end of hot process soap making for their specific emollient, or moisturizing properties. This is what I call super-fatting a formula.
Later tonight, I will be cutting the coffee scented bars, and taking some pictures of the good, and the bad, results so far. Yes, there's even a little ugly...Tomorrow, I am making - or at least starting - another set of birdhouses. Friday we'll be making more soap.
While I'm on the subject; after the seemly endless search for a laundry detergent that doesn't make one, or both of us, break out; only to have the manufacturer endlessly reformulate it until it does make one, or both of us, break out: I've decided to break the cycle. In addition to our body bars, we are going to make our own laundry soap. In the meantime, I have started to use Zote, a tallow and coconut oil soap formulated for clothes. You can get it at Walmart and on amazon.com. I know it may sound insane to grate your own laundry soap but I don't mind, and I'll do anything - including make my own - to avoid the urge to scratch myself raw. BTW, Twenty Mule Team Borax is my fabric whitener of choice. I have a bleach pen for really bad stains, but I generally avoid chlorine bleach.
Do you have sensitive skin or allergies? What laundry products do you use?
Tuesday, March 24, 2015
Saturday, March 21, 2015
The Dance of My People
The "American Robin and Barn Swallow" nesting shelves went together smoothly. I wouldn't say they were easy, or expletive free, but I'm out of practice working with wood and power tools in general. Before putting together our soap molds late last fall, I hadn't touched our power miter saw in almost a decade. Today I took a skill saw that I received as a present five years ago out of it's box, likewise my jigsaw. Are you disappointed in me?
I grew up with a father who had a fully equipped shop in our home. I don't remember not having the sound of power tools in the house, and I was comfortable with most of them, though maybe slightly less deft than I would like to think I was. After a couple of decades of apartment dwelling, I am maybe slightly more cautious, but still comfortable - even content - putzing in the garage. I'm still not confident of my skill level, but then, I have not exactly been practicing...
So it took me five hours and the customary cussing, but I can cross one item off my lengthy master list. I also cleaned out one of the birdhouses that...wasn't strictly designed to be cleaned out. Luckily the person that made it only used 1" brads to hold the bottom onto the frame of the house. I pried the bottom away, and cleaned out about five years of nesting materials. Then I removed the brads, drilled a couple pilot holes and screwed the bottom back into place. Next year, all I need to do is loosen the two screws and clean it out again. I also fastened a wooden cleat to the post it was haphazardly screwed to with 3" screws, and then secured the birdhouse to the cleat so that it's now properly mounted to the post. I'm not naming names, but some people just aren't handy. Those same people, often think they are...
Tomorrow, with hubby's help, I'll be hanging the Robin shelves, and cleaning out the other birdhouses, all of which, thankfully, were designed with a trap door for easy clean out.
Good news, I've remembered to take pictures of the project. Bad news, I can't figure out how to post them.
Edit: I did it!
Friday, March 20, 2015
Orangutans, and Pigs, and Petrochemicals: OH MY!
I am becoming less confident with every batch of soap we make. So far, knock on wood, we haven't had any flat out catastrophes but, completely ruined batches of soap are common when you are first starting out. I guess, I'm just waiting nervously for the other shoe to fall. Then again, cooking soap isn't all that different from what I already do everyday, so that shoe may be a long time in coming.
What makes you nervous, or me anyway, is that not only do each of the fats and oils have different qualities in the finished bar, but they act differently in the crock pot. Today, we changed from using lard, coconut oil, olive oil, and castor oil as the base fats, to using palm oil in place of the lard. Everything else about the formula was the same. The soap reached what is called full trace in a couple of minutes, as opposed to spending ten or fifteen minutes with the hand blender, and the soap cooked to the gelatinization stage in under half the time. So today's lesson: olive oil, and animal fats are slow to react in hot process soaps.
A short glossary: trace occurs when you've created a stable emulsion by hand or with the stick blender, that resembles thick pudding. Gelatinization is the final cooking stage when the soap takes on a glossy and translucent quality, not unlike Vaseline.
For those that let out a little shriek when you read the word LARD; outside of the Mediterranean region, where olive oil is most common, animal fats were the original fats used for soap. The merit of them is that they are closest in composition to the oils in our own skin. We've all been told that lard makes your skin and hair greasy when you eat them, and causes breakouts, and heart decease, and social destabilization, hurricanes, tsunamis, not to mention nuclear meltdowns, but it's just not so. It has zero trans-fats, and a better balance of omega three and omega six fatty acids than many "healthy" alternatives. On the skin, it is gently conditioning (moisturizing) without clogging the pours and without leaving an unpleasant oiliness behind.
Palm oil is more common in cosmetic applications since the end of the Second World War. But really, the chief components of the detergent bars you can buy in grocery stores are derivatives, and byproducts, of the petrochemical industry. More on this later... Palm oil is generally considered safe, but recently it has been labeled unsustainable because it often comes at the cost of Orangutan habitat. You can purchase double certified sustainable and Orangutan safe palm oils - which we did - but they cost more, and are still produced on the other side of the world from where I live. Sustainability is a constant, and measured compromise between choices. How far something travels to get to you is as important, as how it is grown or sourced, and how it effects the ecosystem from which it is derived. I understand some people are uncomfortable with using any animal products what so ever, so we are planning to make soaps that are vegan friendly and others that are...not. Specifically, I would like to use grass fed beef tallow in some of our soaps. My reasons for this are to support an industry that is preferable to factory farming, and to honor the unavoidable death of the large animal, not to mention the resources it takes to bring that animal to slaughter, by using all of it! That is, after all, what we used to do as a matter of course, and compassionate animal husbandry requires nothing less. Not wasting also appeals to my Scottish heritage. Somehow we have this reputation for being cheap, I can't imagine how this came to be...
I was too busy stuffing Lasagna into my face-hole to take a picture of my dinner tonight. Nor did I remember to snap any pictures of the soap in process. I am actually very bad at remembering to do this, even when I want to write about it.
I'm working on it.
What makes you nervous, or me anyway, is that not only do each of the fats and oils have different qualities in the finished bar, but they act differently in the crock pot. Today, we changed from using lard, coconut oil, olive oil, and castor oil as the base fats, to using palm oil in place of the lard. Everything else about the formula was the same. The soap reached what is called full trace in a couple of minutes, as opposed to spending ten or fifteen minutes with the hand blender, and the soap cooked to the gelatinization stage in under half the time. So today's lesson: olive oil, and animal fats are slow to react in hot process soaps.
A short glossary: trace occurs when you've created a stable emulsion by hand or with the stick blender, that resembles thick pudding. Gelatinization is the final cooking stage when the soap takes on a glossy and translucent quality, not unlike Vaseline.
For those that let out a little shriek when you read the word LARD; outside of the Mediterranean region, where olive oil is most common, animal fats were the original fats used for soap. The merit of them is that they are closest in composition to the oils in our own skin. We've all been told that lard makes your skin and hair greasy when you eat them, and causes breakouts, and heart decease, and social destabilization, hurricanes, tsunamis, not to mention nuclear meltdowns, but it's just not so. It has zero trans-fats, and a better balance of omega three and omega six fatty acids than many "healthy" alternatives. On the skin, it is gently conditioning (moisturizing) without clogging the pours and without leaving an unpleasant oiliness behind.
Palm oil is more common in cosmetic applications since the end of the Second World War. But really, the chief components of the detergent bars you can buy in grocery stores are derivatives, and byproducts, of the petrochemical industry. More on this later... Palm oil is generally considered safe, but recently it has been labeled unsustainable because it often comes at the cost of Orangutan habitat. You can purchase double certified sustainable and Orangutan safe palm oils - which we did - but they cost more, and are still produced on the other side of the world from where I live. Sustainability is a constant, and measured compromise between choices. How far something travels to get to you is as important, as how it is grown or sourced, and how it effects the ecosystem from which it is derived. I understand some people are uncomfortable with using any animal products what so ever, so we are planning to make soaps that are vegan friendly and others that are...not. Specifically, I would like to use grass fed beef tallow in some of our soaps. My reasons for this are to support an industry that is preferable to factory farming, and to honor the unavoidable death of the large animal, not to mention the resources it takes to bring that animal to slaughter, by using all of it! That is, after all, what we used to do as a matter of course, and compassionate animal husbandry requires nothing less. Not wasting also appeals to my Scottish heritage. Somehow we have this reputation for being cheap, I can't imagine how this came to be...
I was too busy stuffing Lasagna into my face-hole to take a picture of my dinner tonight. Nor did I remember to snap any pictures of the soap in process. I am actually very bad at remembering to do this, even when I want to write about it.
I'm working on it.
My Left Hip
Last night, during my body scan meditation, I was focusing on the sensation in my left hip area - like you do - when the following bubbled up out the muddle: "I'm tired of apologizing for my existence."
It doesn't take a psychoanalyst to figure out where the thought came from, but the message was delivered in a calm and determined voice. My voice, but, not my voice. I think we've all had this experience in moments of reflection. There I was, lying flat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to clear my mind before going to sleep, and now this? So, I did the only thing I could do. In my interior voice, just as calmly and determined, I said, "I cannot deal with you right now, I have to concentrate on my left hip."
Obviously, (your reading about it) the thought stuck with me, but in that moment it just kinda of floated away back where it had come from, and I have to admit, it felt like a tiny victory.
And here is what I think I learned in that moment: I cannot expect to meditate perfectly. I have to allow whatever mental flotsam is there, to be there, but I don't have to engage with it. When this occurs - which is all the time - what I need to do is return to the meditation no matter how many times I'm pulled away. There will be times when letting go of something will not be possible, times when I will actually drift off to sleep during the meditation, and times when I will heave a sigh of relief that the torture is over the moment the digital recording comes to an end.
Meanwhile, I've decided to keep a journal next to the bed for the occasions when thoughts do bubble up that I cannot shake. And yes, I've started that journal with a list of things I'm tired of apologizing for.
It doesn't take a psychoanalyst to figure out where the thought came from, but the message was delivered in a calm and determined voice. My voice, but, not my voice. I think we've all had this experience in moments of reflection. There I was, lying flat on the bed, breathing deeply, trying to clear my mind before going to sleep, and now this? So, I did the only thing I could do. In my interior voice, just as calmly and determined, I said, "I cannot deal with you right now, I have to concentrate on my left hip."
Obviously, (your reading about it) the thought stuck with me, but in that moment it just kinda of floated away back where it had come from, and I have to admit, it felt like a tiny victory.
And here is what I think I learned in that moment: I cannot expect to meditate perfectly. I have to allow whatever mental flotsam is there, to be there, but I don't have to engage with it. When this occurs - which is all the time - what I need to do is return to the meditation no matter how many times I'm pulled away. There will be times when letting go of something will not be possible, times when I will actually drift off to sleep during the meditation, and times when I will heave a sigh of relief that the torture is over the moment the digital recording comes to an end.
Meanwhile, I've decided to keep a journal next to the bed for the occasions when thoughts do bubble up that I cannot shake. And yes, I've started that journal with a list of things I'm tired of apologizing for.
Thursday, March 19, 2015
Cooking Soap and Washing my Mouth Out with Turkey
Last Sunday, in the wee small hours of the morning, we completed our inaugural batch of hot process soap. Our goal for the week off was to complete three batches and put them up to cure, but you already know that isn't what happened. In the end, I had to sacrifice my gym time, and stay up too late to get it done, but we did!
I then spent the better part of Tuesday being disappointed in myself for skipping the gym. I had already skipped Saturday to rest up a sore right shoulder, then I skipped Sunday to finish the soap. Monday, while moving a box of patio furniture for my mother-in-law I hurt my shoulder again, and after missing three days in a row, I was not functioning mentally. So, another meltdown had, and written about, but no one needs to read that. The conclusion is, I've spent years dissecting, avoiding, and finally accepting what my body needs. Now, I have to give myself the gifts of time and discipline to fulfill that need. It's recommendable to skip weight training if I'm injured or overly sore, but I cannot afford to sacrifice the time voluntarily. It's just too costly and I deserve to treat myself better than that.
Now that the metaphorical "soap bandage" has been ripped off, we've already completed a second batch, and will be making a third tomorrow afternoon. At this rate we'll be hunting for Guinea pigs to take some of this soap off our hands before Memorial Day is over. So far, our first batch was scented with eucalyptus and mint fragrance oil, and our second unscented. Tomorrow, we are making a coffee scented soap, using finely ground coffee beans as an exfoliant.
Yesterday I roasted off very small turkey breast that my mother-in-law brought home from Kroger, because it seemed like the perfect thing to do after spending the afternoon stirring soap in a crock pot. What was I thinking? It was a very nice treat on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday, and at $0.88/lb I wasn't going to complain. I had planned to save the leftovers for today's lunch, but what little was left was already gone before this morning. Apparently I wasn't the only one not complaining... I have another whole breast in the freezer, but I'm waiting for a warmer day to roast it outside on the grill.
Earlier this month, I prepared a huge batch of Marinara and Mushroom sauce. Tomorrow I'll be putting together a lasagna with the leftovers out of the freezer, and some fresh ricotta I just picked up at Nino Salvaggio's - an Italian specialty grocery store in our area. I am already broke for this pay check, which is the only reason I didn't spent half this months take home pay at the olive bar and cheese counter. If I ever figure out how to smuggle an entire wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano into my back pack I'll let you know. Until then, they generally ask you to pay for the stuff.
I then spent the better part of Tuesday being disappointed in myself for skipping the gym. I had already skipped Saturday to rest up a sore right shoulder, then I skipped Sunday to finish the soap. Monday, while moving a box of patio furniture for my mother-in-law I hurt my shoulder again, and after missing three days in a row, I was not functioning mentally. So, another meltdown had, and written about, but no one needs to read that. The conclusion is, I've spent years dissecting, avoiding, and finally accepting what my body needs. Now, I have to give myself the gifts of time and discipline to fulfill that need. It's recommendable to skip weight training if I'm injured or overly sore, but I cannot afford to sacrifice the time voluntarily. It's just too costly and I deserve to treat myself better than that.
Now that the metaphorical "soap bandage" has been ripped off, we've already completed a second batch, and will be making a third tomorrow afternoon. At this rate we'll be hunting for Guinea pigs to take some of this soap off our hands before Memorial Day is over. So far, our first batch was scented with eucalyptus and mint fragrance oil, and our second unscented. Tomorrow, we are making a coffee scented soap, using finely ground coffee beans as an exfoliant.
Yesterday I roasted off very small turkey breast that my mother-in-law brought home from Kroger, because it seemed like the perfect thing to do after spending the afternoon stirring soap in a crock pot. What was I thinking? It was a very nice treat on an otherwise uneventful Wednesday, and at $0.88/lb I wasn't going to complain. I had planned to save the leftovers for today's lunch, but what little was left was already gone before this morning. Apparently I wasn't the only one not complaining... I have another whole breast in the freezer, but I'm waiting for a warmer day to roast it outside on the grill.
Earlier this month, I prepared a huge batch of Marinara and Mushroom sauce. Tomorrow I'll be putting together a lasagna with the leftovers out of the freezer, and some fresh ricotta I just picked up at Nino Salvaggio's - an Italian specialty grocery store in our area. I am already broke for this pay check, which is the only reason I didn't spent half this months take home pay at the olive bar and cheese counter. If I ever figure out how to smuggle an entire wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano into my back pack I'll let you know. Until then, they generally ask you to pay for the stuff.
Saturday, March 14, 2015
Aging the Wood
I grilled outside for the first time this year. While that is indicative of a change in the weather, I am a Canadian expat: we grill whenever it's over 40F. (4C)
Yesterday I completed my "TO DO" Master List of all the things I wanted to get accomplished this spring/summer. I then spent the evening breathing into a paper bag in the hopes that the panic would subside.
We've been living here as if our situation was temporary for almost four years now. However; it no longer matters if we will be here for six more months, or four more decades, I have to get some things settled, organized, and put in place so we can move forward in whatever direction that happens to be. So, this will be the spring/summer of "mise en place."
It would be false to say that I am not a sentimental person, but I don't generally attach a great deal of emotion to things. I'm certainly not the type of person to collect stamps, coins, figurines, or anything else that isn't functional, or directly enriches my life. Seriously, it's just stuff. Not everyone in my home shares this outlook, so a compromise will have to be reached: and possibly a garage sale had before everything is in order.
Today has been a fairly productive day! I replaced the toilet handle, and then cleaned, and greased the tank flap. And can I just say how sad I am that our toilet doesn't have a ballcock assembly? Yes, I AM twelve! It has a float cup and a vertical flapper design, meaning the rubber flap at the bottom of the tank moves - more or less - straight up and down as opposed to opening like a clam. We have hard water and the rod that guilds the flapper gets coated in minerals preventing the flapper from sliding up and down as it should. As a result the handle, which is made of flimsy plastic, breaks frequently. Rather than buying yet another plastic replacement handle from the manufacturer, I found a universal handle with a bendable metal rod. The plumber recommended just replacing the whole toilet, because he thinks it's a bad design for hard water, and OK, he's probably right. BUT; he's already gotten my in-laws for a kitchen sink and faucet, as well as one new toilet this year. I am hoping my rig will get us at least another few months. In the meantime, my in-laws need to remodel their whole bathroom, and install a walk-in shower to accommodate their needs, as well as reduce the risk of falling as they age. I'm hoping this gets underway in the next few months.
I also replaced the handle on our front storm door, did a couple loads of laundry, filled the small bird feeder, and started to sort out the garden shed on top of going through the refrigerator and pitching the leftovers, making and cleaning up after dinner. And, I'm reviewing the measured drawing for the birdhouses and Robin shelves I've been planning to make for about two years now. As my father would say, I'm not procrastinating, I'm aging the wood! I am determined that they WILL get made this year.
Later tonight, I'll be finishing my laundry, and then it's back to the gym.
Yesterday I completed my "TO DO" Master List of all the things I wanted to get accomplished this spring/summer. I then spent the evening breathing into a paper bag in the hopes that the panic would subside.
We've been living here as if our situation was temporary for almost four years now. However; it no longer matters if we will be here for six more months, or four more decades, I have to get some things settled, organized, and put in place so we can move forward in whatever direction that happens to be. So, this will be the spring/summer of "mise en place."
It would be false to say that I am not a sentimental person, but I don't generally attach a great deal of emotion to things. I'm certainly not the type of person to collect stamps, coins, figurines, or anything else that isn't functional, or directly enriches my life. Seriously, it's just stuff. Not everyone in my home shares this outlook, so a compromise will have to be reached: and possibly a garage sale had before everything is in order.
Today has been a fairly productive day! I replaced the toilet handle, and then cleaned, and greased the tank flap. And can I just say how sad I am that our toilet doesn't have a ballcock assembly? Yes, I AM twelve! It has a float cup and a vertical flapper design, meaning the rubber flap at the bottom of the tank moves - more or less - straight up and down as opposed to opening like a clam. We have hard water and the rod that guilds the flapper gets coated in minerals preventing the flapper from sliding up and down as it should. As a result the handle, which is made of flimsy plastic, breaks frequently. Rather than buying yet another plastic replacement handle from the manufacturer, I found a universal handle with a bendable metal rod. The plumber recommended just replacing the whole toilet, because he thinks it's a bad design for hard water, and OK, he's probably right. BUT; he's already gotten my in-laws for a kitchen sink and faucet, as well as one new toilet this year. I am hoping my rig will get us at least another few months. In the meantime, my in-laws need to remodel their whole bathroom, and install a walk-in shower to accommodate their needs, as well as reduce the risk of falling as they age. I'm hoping this gets underway in the next few months.
I also replaced the handle on our front storm door, did a couple loads of laundry, filled the small bird feeder, and started to sort out the garden shed on top of going through the refrigerator and pitching the leftovers, making and cleaning up after dinner. And, I'm reviewing the measured drawing for the birdhouses and Robin shelves I've been planning to make for about two years now. As my father would say, I'm not procrastinating, I'm aging the wood! I am determined that they WILL get made this year.
Later tonight, I'll be finishing my laundry, and then it's back to the gym.
Friday, March 13, 2015
Cooking Sense
I love the sound of onions hitting hot oil in the pan. It's not as universal, but for me, it is right up there with laughing babies, or purring kittens. Where others might hear hissing, I hear a contented sigh. Dinner is underway.
Cooking is about the senses, and not only the obvious application of smell and taste, but touch, sight, and hearing. It is the feel of a bread dough when it's been properly worked and is ready to ferment, or the sound of a searing steak when it's released from the pan and can be turned to brown the opposite side. It is judging everything from cookies to a roast chicken as "golden brown and delicious" just by looking at it. And it's poking a chicken breast to judge it's doneness, or the slapping sound a cake batter makes when the eggs are fully incorporated, and it is ready for you to add the flour.
I get very frustrated when I hear people say they just cannot cook. Yes, there are some who have a certain instinct (maybe a sixth sense) for cooking, but it really is as simple - and as complex - as organizing a few ingredients, heating them, and paying attention to the details. Cooking, is most tightly defined as the application of heat for the purposes of transforming raw foods into safer, more appetizing, or more digestible, cooked foods. That's it! OK, not everyone gets a kick out of frying onions, like me, but anyone can do it, and do it successfully. It does require practice, but then no human baby ever stood up, and walked, on its first try either.
Cooking is about the senses, and not only the obvious application of smell and taste, but touch, sight, and hearing. It is the feel of a bread dough when it's been properly worked and is ready to ferment, or the sound of a searing steak when it's released from the pan and can be turned to brown the opposite side. It is judging everything from cookies to a roast chicken as "golden brown and delicious" just by looking at it. And it's poking a chicken breast to judge it's doneness, or the slapping sound a cake batter makes when the eggs are fully incorporated, and it is ready for you to add the flour.
I get very frustrated when I hear people say they just cannot cook. Yes, there are some who have a certain instinct (maybe a sixth sense) for cooking, but it really is as simple - and as complex - as organizing a few ingredients, heating them, and paying attention to the details. Cooking, is most tightly defined as the application of heat for the purposes of transforming raw foods into safer, more appetizing, or more digestible, cooked foods. That's it! OK, not everyone gets a kick out of frying onions, like me, but anyone can do it, and do it successfully. It does require practice, but then no human baby ever stood up, and walked, on its first try either.
Tuesday, March 10, 2015
In thru the nose...
Today is day number four in my gym marathon. Physically I am more exhausted than I can remember being, but my head feels clear, and I ache with accomplishment. That sounds more poetic than it is. I will not be feeling so accomplished when it is time to put together dinner, and head back to the gym. I may have to admit I'm human and take the evening off...we'll see.
My body is craving food, and rest. Fortunately I have the luxury of sleeping whenever I need to this week, as I don't really have anyplace I need to be at a certain time. Unfortunately, I am too afraid of messing up my established sleep patterns, anymore than daylight savings time already has, to take full advantage of it.
I am not a good sleeper, as a general rule, and routine does help. Last night I re-tried a "Guided Body Scan Meditation in Preparation for Sleep," or at least that's what the metered voice of the woman on the digital recording called it. I don't think it's a good sign when you are supposed to be focusing on the sensations at the top of your head, and you're already thinking "come on, get on with it" aloud in your mind, and you've only just started the twenty minute recording.
Anyone who tells you that meditation is easy, is selling something, and it's probably a book, or video, about how meditation is easy. There is a reason Tibetan Monks wear those robes, they are earned vestments, not comfy bathrobes to hang around the Monastery. "This shit be hard, yo!" I am terrible at being still and quieting my mind. Like, storybook terrible, I think I covered this in my last entry. But, I will keep trying anyway in the hopes that sheer bloody-minded repetition will force me to improve. Then maybe, one or two brief moments will turn into whole minutes of mindfulness. I'm not holding my breath, because apparently I'm supposed to be breathing in thru my nose and out thru my mouth.
As for craving food, I don't care what it is, I want to put it in my stomach. Fortunately, there are enough healthy options around that I have been able to keep things under control, but the day is young. Marrakesh Stew for dinner tonight: a combination of cumin, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, allspice, in a vegetable stock with potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, chick peas, and onions over rice.
My body is craving food, and rest. Fortunately I have the luxury of sleeping whenever I need to this week, as I don't really have anyplace I need to be at a certain time. Unfortunately, I am too afraid of messing up my established sleep patterns, anymore than daylight savings time already has, to take full advantage of it.
I am not a good sleeper, as a general rule, and routine does help. Last night I re-tried a "Guided Body Scan Meditation in Preparation for Sleep," or at least that's what the metered voice of the woman on the digital recording called it. I don't think it's a good sign when you are supposed to be focusing on the sensations at the top of your head, and you're already thinking "come on, get on with it" aloud in your mind, and you've only just started the twenty minute recording.
Anyone who tells you that meditation is easy, is selling something, and it's probably a book, or video, about how meditation is easy. There is a reason Tibetan Monks wear those robes, they are earned vestments, not comfy bathrobes to hang around the Monastery. "This shit be hard, yo!" I am terrible at being still and quieting my mind. Like, storybook terrible, I think I covered this in my last entry. But, I will keep trying anyway in the hopes that sheer bloody-minded repetition will force me to improve. Then maybe, one or two brief moments will turn into whole minutes of mindfulness. I'm not holding my breath, because apparently I'm supposed to be breathing in thru my nose and out thru my mouth.
As for craving food, I don't care what it is, I want to put it in my stomach. Fortunately, there are enough healthy options around that I have been able to keep things under control, but the day is young. Marrakesh Stew for dinner tonight: a combination of cumin, coriander, cinnamon, cayenne pepper, allspice, in a vegetable stock with potatoes, sweet potatoes, carrots, tomatoes, chick peas, and onions over rice.
Be the ball. Sink the putt.
"I'm gonna go visualize your eggs; Bob." Runaway Bride.
It's the third day in a row of hitting the gym, and I am already starting to question my state of mind when I decided to try to workout every day of Spring Break. If I'm being completely honest, I feel like I've been repeatedly run over by a MAC truck: as in all 18 wheels, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom...but in a good way?
Last night I started to visualize finishing each set in my mind before I began the exercise. In the interest of full disclosure; I am terrible at visualization. When asked, during a meditation exercise to visualize a blue ball, I found myself wondering "how big," and "what shade of blue?" And then I spent the entire time experimenting with different sized and colored balls while simultaneously wondering if I was the only person in the room with my eyes closed, and if the instructor could tell I was struggling. So I just metered my breathing, and waited to be instructed to open my eyes again. As for visualizing my workout, you are meant to imagine the whole set, where as I managed only to visualize myself doing the exercise once, and then was ready to move on to doing it.
Mostly, I'm impatient, and unfocused. That sounds like judgement, but it's true, and if I'm not able to be honest with myself, who will? Still, as bad as I am at visualization, I have to admit that taking a moment to close my eyes, and focus on what I was doing, did improve the results. So, I guess the good news is, even if you're bad at it, like me, there is something to be gained from simply trying.
So why is it, beyond my biology, that I have such difficulty focusing? And why has it seemly gotten acutely harder with age? I would currently describe my experience of being an adult as waking up under a mountain of expectation, and having to dig myself out, just in order to get a cup of tea. Whether that mountain is made by others, or my own psychology, is something up for debate. (It's probably me.) I do know that I am frequently unhappy, and unpleasant to be around. That being the case, it is something I need to change! Since I cannot change the circumstances of my life, I must work on changing my reaction to them. None of this is news to anyone who has read a self-help book, or walked on the face of the earth for longer than fifteen or twenty years. Unless, of course, you were a Zen master at age thirteen, in which case, you're probably not reading this anyway.
I have toyed with meditation/visualization several times in my life. Certainly it has been recommended to me by clinicians, psychologists, family, and friends alike. It's just something I am not good at, and I'm not the kind of person who doggedly keeps working at something I'm not good at. However; just as everything keeps pointing me towards being very active as a key to being more content, everything I read about adult ADHD, and anxiety/depression, is pointing me towards meditation as a possible means to help me tackle the struggles I've had throughout my life.
This is going to be all kinds of not fun, but if I want to move that mountain, I guess I better start digging.
It's the third day in a row of hitting the gym, and I am already starting to question my state of mind when I decided to try to workout every day of Spring Break. If I'm being completely honest, I feel like I've been repeatedly run over by a MAC truck: as in all 18 wheels, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom...but in a good way?
Last night I started to visualize finishing each set in my mind before I began the exercise. In the interest of full disclosure; I am terrible at visualization. When asked, during a meditation exercise to visualize a blue ball, I found myself wondering "how big," and "what shade of blue?" And then I spent the entire time experimenting with different sized and colored balls while simultaneously wondering if I was the only person in the room with my eyes closed, and if the instructor could tell I was struggling. So I just metered my breathing, and waited to be instructed to open my eyes again. As for visualizing my workout, you are meant to imagine the whole set, where as I managed only to visualize myself doing the exercise once, and then was ready to move on to doing it.
Mostly, I'm impatient, and unfocused. That sounds like judgement, but it's true, and if I'm not able to be honest with myself, who will? Still, as bad as I am at visualization, I have to admit that taking a moment to close my eyes, and focus on what I was doing, did improve the results. So, I guess the good news is, even if you're bad at it, like me, there is something to be gained from simply trying.
So why is it, beyond my biology, that I have such difficulty focusing? And why has it seemly gotten acutely harder with age? I would currently describe my experience of being an adult as waking up under a mountain of expectation, and having to dig myself out, just in order to get a cup of tea. Whether that mountain is made by others, or my own psychology, is something up for debate. (It's probably me.) I do know that I am frequently unhappy, and unpleasant to be around. That being the case, it is something I need to change! Since I cannot change the circumstances of my life, I must work on changing my reaction to them. None of this is news to anyone who has read a self-help book, or walked on the face of the earth for longer than fifteen or twenty years. Unless, of course, you were a Zen master at age thirteen, in which case, you're probably not reading this anyway.
I have toyed with meditation/visualization several times in my life. Certainly it has been recommended to me by clinicians, psychologists, family, and friends alike. It's just something I am not good at, and I'm not the kind of person who doggedly keeps working at something I'm not good at. However; just as everything keeps pointing me towards being very active as a key to being more content, everything I read about adult ADHD, and anxiety/depression, is pointing me towards meditation as a possible means to help me tackle the struggles I've had throughout my life.
This is going to be all kinds of not fun, but if I want to move that mountain, I guess I better start digging.
Sunday, March 8, 2015
Reinstate Recess!
Daylight Savings Time begins today: I am not a fan. It is a few days earlier than last year, which is two week earlier than it was previous to 2007 thanks to the Energy Policy Act of 2005. It may make some blind bit of sense in other parts of the country, but here it mean's we are cast back into getting up for work in the dark. Well, someone is... This semester my husband is teaching in the evenings, and neither of us is, by nature, an early riser, so I'm rarely out of bed before before 10:00am. Before you begin to feel green-eyed at all, dinner, at least twice a week, is at 11:00 or 12:00 at night, and scheduling a normal life around a work day that begins at 3:00 in the afternoon is a verifiable nightmare.
Yesterday, I was "adulting" all over the place! I completed four loads of laundry, changed the furnace filter, changed the cat litter, vacuumed the floor in utility room, cleaned the bathroom, and made dinner for the family who spent the day at a charity auction for the St. Clair County Humane Society. You get the idea. I don't have a clear picture of what I imagined my life would be when I was a child, probably exactly as my life was then (with slightly more hair,) but I'm fairly certain that doing housework and paying bills wasn't it.
Last night at the gym I had another ridiculous thought about adulthood. When I was a child, my life consisted of running, climbing, carrying, and hanging on the Monkey Bars for hours a day. Now, I pay a fee to a gym so that I can go there and mimic all those activities, and I call it work. I actually have to schedule time in my day, and put off other priorities to do it. There is something wrong with that. Maybe the solution to the obesity crisis is as simple as instating recess, as well as nap time, in the workplace. I knew you'd come along with me on this... And maybe, since changing the established pattern of the North American work day is too much to ask based on my silliness, what it really means is that when I am angry or frustrated that my workout isn't going well, I'm not getting faster results, or just plain don't feel like doing it, I need to remember that this is play time!
Even if it does now have to happen an hour earlier.
Yesterday, I was "adulting" all over the place! I completed four loads of laundry, changed the furnace filter, changed the cat litter, vacuumed the floor in utility room, cleaned the bathroom, and made dinner for the family who spent the day at a charity auction for the St. Clair County Humane Society. You get the idea. I don't have a clear picture of what I imagined my life would be when I was a child, probably exactly as my life was then (with slightly more hair,) but I'm fairly certain that doing housework and paying bills wasn't it.
Last night at the gym I had another ridiculous thought about adulthood. When I was a child, my life consisted of running, climbing, carrying, and hanging on the Monkey Bars for hours a day. Now, I pay a fee to a gym so that I can go there and mimic all those activities, and I call it work. I actually have to schedule time in my day, and put off other priorities to do it. There is something wrong with that. Maybe the solution to the obesity crisis is as simple as instating recess, as well as nap time, in the workplace. I knew you'd come along with me on this... And maybe, since changing the established pattern of the North American work day is too much to ask based on my silliness, what it really means is that when I am angry or frustrated that my workout isn't going well, I'm not getting faster results, or just plain don't feel like doing it, I need to remember that this is play time!
Even if it does now have to happen an hour earlier.
Saturday, March 7, 2015
Albino Wooly Mammoth
People love to talk about food. We do not like to talk about, or even think about, what happens when there is not enough food. Here in North America starvation on any kind of scale is rare, but hunger is a reality for many. When experts talk about food deprivation in the Western population, they refer to it as food insecurity, which somehow makes the problem seem less serious than it actually is.
Food insecurity, as it is defined in the U.S, is "the inability to acquire or consume an adequate quality or sufficient quantity of food in usually acceptable ways, or, the uncertainly that an individual will be able to do so."
If that sounds too wordy for you, the components of food insecurity are: not enough food, and poor quality food.
Hunger, in contrast, is better defined as the lack of food, otherwise termed as temporary and/or frequent food deprivation. Prior to 2007 only 4.1% of U.S. children experienced hunger, and 11.1% were food insecure. Currently 14.5% experience hunger, and 33.3% of families find themselves in food insecurity. For those, like me, who aren't all that great at math, that is one-third of the population.
I find that statistic hard to internalize. It is outrageous for anyone to go hungry in a place that grows so much food that farmers allow crops to rot in the field because it is economically prohibitive to harvest it, and in a place where 40% of the food we purchase is wasted. Yet, when you sit down to write about food provenance, and eating healthfully, it is necessary to overlook that all too familiar albino Wooly Mammoth staring you in the face. How can you write about the necessity of better quality, responsibly sourced, fresh food, when so many people have no food at all?
In the interest of full disclosure: if it weren't for the fact that we live with my husbands parents, we would be considered food insecure. Even with their financial input, and my cooking abilities, it is difficult to keep decent quality fresh food on our table on a consistent basis. As food obsessed, and uncompromising, as I can be at times, I am aware of the true value of the food I put on the table for my family. I am also, all too aware that I am extremely fortunate to have enough food to eat.
When I write about the importance of buying the best quality produce that you can afford, I am fully aware of its value, and not simply parroting a popular elitist philosophy: it really is important! Yes, there are some of us who do not have enough to eat, but, as a population, many more of us can do better than we are doing. We can, and should, use our hard earned food dollars to demand better quality, contaminant-free, foods for ourselves, and our families.
Food insecurity, as it is defined in the U.S, is "the inability to acquire or consume an adequate quality or sufficient quantity of food in usually acceptable ways, or, the uncertainly that an individual will be able to do so."
If that sounds too wordy for you, the components of food insecurity are: not enough food, and poor quality food.
Hunger, in contrast, is better defined as the lack of food, otherwise termed as temporary and/or frequent food deprivation. Prior to 2007 only 4.1% of U.S. children experienced hunger, and 11.1% were food insecure. Currently 14.5% experience hunger, and 33.3% of families find themselves in food insecurity. For those, like me, who aren't all that great at math, that is one-third of the population.
I find that statistic hard to internalize. It is outrageous for anyone to go hungry in a place that grows so much food that farmers allow crops to rot in the field because it is economically prohibitive to harvest it, and in a place where 40% of the food we purchase is wasted. Yet, when you sit down to write about food provenance, and eating healthfully, it is necessary to overlook that all too familiar albino Wooly Mammoth staring you in the face. How can you write about the necessity of better quality, responsibly sourced, fresh food, when so many people have no food at all?
In the interest of full disclosure: if it weren't for the fact that we live with my husbands parents, we would be considered food insecure. Even with their financial input, and my cooking abilities, it is difficult to keep decent quality fresh food on our table on a consistent basis. As food obsessed, and uncompromising, as I can be at times, I am aware of the true value of the food I put on the table for my family. I am also, all too aware that I am extremely fortunate to have enough food to eat.
When I write about the importance of buying the best quality produce that you can afford, I am fully aware of its value, and not simply parroting a popular elitist philosophy: it really is important! Yes, there are some of us who do not have enough to eat, but, as a population, many more of us can do better than we are doing. We can, and should, use our hard earned food dollars to demand better quality, contaminant-free, foods for ourselves, and our families.
The Security Illusion
Since the age of thirty, birthdays have made me, perhaps morbidly, reflective. I know I'm not alone in this, after-all what is the big deal about turning 30 or 50 or 60 if it doesn't mark a milestone between what is past and what we may become?
In 24 days I will turn 46 years old. I have had one career than I loved, found rewarding, and am proud of, and I am struggling to get my second career off the ground. I still don't know precisely what shape that will take, or how I will make it happen, but I have two or three oars in the water, and I am fairly certain I am headed in the right direction because it feels like I'm paddling up stream. That is to say, it's a tremendous effort, but anything easy is likely to be leading me in the wrong direction.
By nature, I have difficulty focusing, and I live in an environment that is the antithesis of quiet, rife with insistent distractions. At times, like today, it all feels directionless, impossible, and unchangeable. And, here's the thing: as much as I complain about the distractions, and complications of my life, and as much as I am anxious that they are delaying or possibly eliminating a future career, I am either so anxious I cannot be still, or, I am actually energized by being pulled in seven different directions at the same time.
If this is true, I must also accept that I am letting myself be derailed. That is, the possibility of succeeding scares the crap out of me so I let myself get mired in the minutia of running a household and dealing with other-people's problems. In this case it is likely that distraction provides a kind of psychological construct, or excuse, for any failure on my part to move forward. It's someone else's fault!
So, if that is the pathology of my current (and past) problems; if my psychology is driving me to avoid success, and keeping me from not only asking for what I want, but demanding it; then what is to be done about it? Am I doomed to repeat this pattern in every aspect of my life, or is it changeable? Finally, with the possibility that I may like being pulled in many different directions comes the question, shouldn't I seek out multiple career paths, or, at the very least, a career path that fulfills that need?
What complicates all these questions, is the fact that I am "of that age," where security, stability, and retirement, are more immediate concerns. I have spent enough time as the stay at home spouse, and elder caregiver, to know that I do not - will not - find that rewarding on any kind of permanent basis. Heading in my own direction, which I'm most certain is what I need to do, does not provide any assurance of future income. I realize, of course, that nothing about the future is certain, but the security of a pension plan does have its appeal, even if it is only an illusion or the very least an allusion to security.
In 24 days I will turn 46 years old. I have had one career than I loved, found rewarding, and am proud of, and I am struggling to get my second career off the ground. I still don't know precisely what shape that will take, or how I will make it happen, but I have two or three oars in the water, and I am fairly certain I am headed in the right direction because it feels like I'm paddling up stream. That is to say, it's a tremendous effort, but anything easy is likely to be leading me in the wrong direction.
By nature, I have difficulty focusing, and I live in an environment that is the antithesis of quiet, rife with insistent distractions. At times, like today, it all feels directionless, impossible, and unchangeable. And, here's the thing: as much as I complain about the distractions, and complications of my life, and as much as I am anxious that they are delaying or possibly eliminating a future career, I am either so anxious I cannot be still, or, I am actually energized by being pulled in seven different directions at the same time.
If this is true, I must also accept that I am letting myself be derailed. That is, the possibility of succeeding scares the crap out of me so I let myself get mired in the minutia of running a household and dealing with other-people's problems. In this case it is likely that distraction provides a kind of psychological construct, or excuse, for any failure on my part to move forward. It's someone else's fault!
So, if that is the pathology of my current (and past) problems; if my psychology is driving me to avoid success, and keeping me from not only asking for what I want, but demanding it; then what is to be done about it? Am I doomed to repeat this pattern in every aspect of my life, or is it changeable? Finally, with the possibility that I may like being pulled in many different directions comes the question, shouldn't I seek out multiple career paths, or, at the very least, a career path that fulfills that need?
What complicates all these questions, is the fact that I am "of that age," where security, stability, and retirement, are more immediate concerns. I have spent enough time as the stay at home spouse, and elder caregiver, to know that I do not - will not - find that rewarding on any kind of permanent basis. Heading in my own direction, which I'm most certain is what I need to do, does not provide any assurance of future income. I realize, of course, that nothing about the future is certain, but the security of a pension plan does have its appeal, even if it is only an illusion or the very least an allusion to security.
Friday, March 6, 2015
...not the conduit.
I am the mule, not the conduit. I am the mule, not the conduit. I am the mule, not the conduit.
It's been easy to avoid writing this morning. Installing a new cable box and rearranging the wiring behind two televisions has kept me occupied, but now I find myself with open time, and no idea what to write.
So, televisions settled, dishes washed, tea had, now what?
The chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies I baked, and froze last week are calling to me from the freezer, and I am successfully - at least for now - able to resist their siren song. There is nothing inherently wrong with home made baked goods, they are in my opinion the only kind to eat, but, I have been over-indulging lately, and I am still trying to loose some numbers by the end of the month. We'll see.
Tonight starts a seven day marathon at the gym. Maybe marathon isn't the best term for it, given that a Marathon is a specific type of activity, but you get the picture. How did that word get associated with watching endless hours of television? I probably don't want to think too much about that...However you want to say it, I WILL be working out every day of this Spring Break, even if there isn't much Spring to be had. I am actually excited about this, which is in its own way bizarre, or at least a little weird.
By the way, there is something deeply satisfying that the word "weird" doesn't follow the "i before e" rule. Can you tell I'm stalling?
Yesterday, I began writing about my upcoming birthday, and the fact that I was struggling to get my second career off the ground. A paragraph or two in, the whole thing descended down a rabbit whole that took most of the afternoon and evening to crawl out of. So, I don't think I'll be going there again anytime soon.
Who am I kidding, I live there. I just don't want my uncertainty and self-doubt made public (more public?) right now.
Wait. Am I a mule or a bear? Oh who knows...
It's been easy to avoid writing this morning. Installing a new cable box and rearranging the wiring behind two televisions has kept me occupied, but now I find myself with open time, and no idea what to write.
So, televisions settled, dishes washed, tea had, now what?
The chocolate chip and oatmeal raisin cookies I baked, and froze last week are calling to me from the freezer, and I am successfully - at least for now - able to resist their siren song. There is nothing inherently wrong with home made baked goods, they are in my opinion the only kind to eat, but, I have been over-indulging lately, and I am still trying to loose some numbers by the end of the month. We'll see.
Tonight starts a seven day marathon at the gym. Maybe marathon isn't the best term for it, given that a Marathon is a specific type of activity, but you get the picture. How did that word get associated with watching endless hours of television? I probably don't want to think too much about that...However you want to say it, I WILL be working out every day of this Spring Break, even if there isn't much Spring to be had. I am actually excited about this, which is in its own way bizarre, or at least a little weird.
By the way, there is something deeply satisfying that the word "weird" doesn't follow the "i before e" rule. Can you tell I'm stalling?
Yesterday, I began writing about my upcoming birthday, and the fact that I was struggling to get my second career off the ground. A paragraph or two in, the whole thing descended down a rabbit whole that took most of the afternoon and evening to crawl out of. So, I don't think I'll be going there again anytime soon.
Who am I kidding, I live there. I just don't want my uncertainty and self-doubt made public (more public?) right now.
Wait. Am I a mule or a bear? Oh who knows...
Wednesday, March 4, 2015
Show up, do your job.
Elizabeth Gilbert suggested in her TED talk that we (artists) should think about our creativity, our "genius," as an external disembodied entity that exists outside of ourselves. I am not a fan of the entire concept of a muse, I am more of a mule, but she also suggested that regardless of whether or not we are inspired, we need to show up, and do our job. I have been struggling lately, and this is an attempt to show up, and do my job.
This February has been very hard. As I've said before, I am normally a proponent of getting outside, and being active, regardless of the weather, but this has been a record breaking cold month with multiple snow storms. It has literally been inadvisable to be outside for any length of time, and I do not have the appropriate outerwear (nor the money to purchase new outerwear) to go outside, and exercise when it's -20F. So, I've been stuck indoors, and that has been a setback.
I have been "depression eating" for the past 7 to 10 days, and I don't feel like getting out of bed. I don't want to laze around the house, I want to hibernate, and, I've been fighting nasal congestion since Christmas which is making my pillow all the more tempting. I have been able to get to the gym three times per week, but not the four to five I'd prefer, and as for my low-intensity walks outdoors, well, it's been so nasty that getting from the house to the car requires courage and determination.
Most importantly to moving ahead, I have not been writing. There are reasons for this that go beyond procrastination, and those reasons aren't going to change for at least another year. To be plain, when you're writing about food, nutrition, and fitness, there is a kind of pressure to be endlessly enthusiastic about the subject. I am enthusiastic, but there are times when I neither feel like cooking, nor eating well, nor getting out of my chair to go to the gym. The reality is that I need to do it anyway, and again, show up, and do my job.
Next week is March break for hubby, and we're too broke to make any plans, so I'm hoping to hit the gym every day. I am also planning to get ahead with baking bread, and a couple other "freezer-filling," for those times I just can't, or don't want to make a healthy meal. We are also going to be making a batch, or two, of hot process soap.
More on the baking and soap making to come...
This February has been very hard. As I've said before, I am normally a proponent of getting outside, and being active, regardless of the weather, but this has been a record breaking cold month with multiple snow storms. It has literally been inadvisable to be outside for any length of time, and I do not have the appropriate outerwear (nor the money to purchase new outerwear) to go outside, and exercise when it's -20F. So, I've been stuck indoors, and that has been a setback.
I have been "depression eating" for the past 7 to 10 days, and I don't feel like getting out of bed. I don't want to laze around the house, I want to hibernate, and, I've been fighting nasal congestion since Christmas which is making my pillow all the more tempting. I have been able to get to the gym three times per week, but not the four to five I'd prefer, and as for my low-intensity walks outdoors, well, it's been so nasty that getting from the house to the car requires courage and determination.
Most importantly to moving ahead, I have not been writing. There are reasons for this that go beyond procrastination, and those reasons aren't going to change for at least another year. To be plain, when you're writing about food, nutrition, and fitness, there is a kind of pressure to be endlessly enthusiastic about the subject. I am enthusiastic, but there are times when I neither feel like cooking, nor eating well, nor getting out of my chair to go to the gym. The reality is that I need to do it anyway, and again, show up, and do my job.
Next week is March break for hubby, and we're too broke to make any plans, so I'm hoping to hit the gym every day. I am also planning to get ahead with baking bread, and a couple other "freezer-filling," for those times I just can't, or don't want to make a healthy meal. We are also going to be making a batch, or two, of hot process soap.
More on the baking and soap making to come...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)