For the past few months, I have been watching season after season of the Biggest Loser online.
Sure, I love seeing the transformations in people's lives. It's awesome!
I often cry tears of joy right along with them.
But I'm starting to understand the life lessons I, myself, have to learn from this TV show.
-"Until and unless you get to the root of the reasons for the extra weight you carry around, nothing will change."
I think there is a deep truth there. A person can learn all the tricks and tools, but unless they really dig down deep and confront whatever buried pain, or shame, or whatever lies behind it all, they will never discover the joy that lies beyond, and chances are high that they'll just gain all of the weight back.
It has happened to several people who lost big amounts of weight on the show. You can see it, even while they're still competing. The ones who dig down deep and face their issues then move into this place of joy that is beautiful to see. They are the ones who leave with truly changed lives. The others, usually the people overly focused on The Game, don't. They don't discover joy. Their lives do not change like the others' do.
**I'm seeing that, though there is no big traumatic life event behind my extra weight, and my almost total lack of fitness, there have to be emotional issues behind it. If there weren't, I wouldn't be overweight!
This seed of a thought has actually lightened my load already. Instead of continuing to flog myself for my failure to fix this, I suddenly have some grace for myself, and some patience. I see now that, while I need to make health and lifestyle changes, and I actually already have every scrap of pracitcal knowledge that I need in order to do it, I need to spend some time with myself first. I need to spend some time in the back closets of my inner Me, and sort out what I find there.
-"Your financial condition is a direct reflection of how successful you will be on this journey."
They had Suze Ormond come on to talk to the contestants. She told them that she can almost predict who will be the big winner, based on a look at their personal finances and their credit score. That was really eye opening to me. The state of other areas of your life reflects the level of self-control you have, the degree of discipline you exercise in your life, and your ability to manage impulses and live for the long-term. This is really enlightening.
I think it goes beyond finances, though. I was just putting some luggage away in the storage room, from recent trips we've taken. As I climbed over stuff that hasn't been put away out there, and squeezed past the stack of boxes full of just stuff that needs to be gone through and gotten rid of....I suddenly saw it all in a new light. I think it all goes together. As I carefully moved through that room, trying to not fall and hurt myself in the process, I suddenly realized the feelings it brings up.
Embarrassment. Shame. Hopelessness. Paralyzed.
I realized that when I have to go out there, I actually try to just not see what's there, because I hate the way I feel when I really look around.
**I think they all go together. I think all of these things- unhealthy handling of finances, out of control home, and a sad state of health, must all stem from the same root causes.
I now think that, when I really get down and start to deal with whatever is behind my weight gain, the result will not only be better health. I think the changes in my thinking, in my internal world, will also positively affect my ability to get a handle on every area of my life.
-One of the best quotes ever- "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing, but expecting different results."
Oh. Yeah.
**It has just come home to me in the past day or two that the life I'm living will never get me to any kind of different place. The life I live is a &&& pound life. All it will ever get me is &&& pounds. Never, ever, will living this same half-hearted way get me anything but &&& pounds.
**The only thing that will take me from &&& pounds to ~~~ pounds is to change my life. If I want to get to ~~~ pounds, to become that fit and able person I long to be, then I have to figure out how to live a ~~~ life! I can't just focus on losing the weight. I know how to do that. I need to change my thinking. I need to learn how to live a ~~~ life.
Now I understand a lot more about my own journey. A few years ago, I changed my diet. I didn't go on a "diet." I just stopped eating the things that were making me sick, especially wheat and sugar. I lost fifty pounds in about seven months. I actually felt great. And I looked good. A lot of people here were scared for me, and thought I looked too skinny.
I realized that:
A-Lee is the only person who lives here who has ever seen me at my actual, normal weight. People are so used to the overweight me that they've known for eighteen years that the real size of me was startling to them.
B-I wasn't exercising at all, so I had no muscle tone. I didn't look healthy or fit, I did just look skinny.
(And I'm weary, bone weary, of having the same conversation over and over, with people who love me; people who are precious to me: "But you don't look overweight to me." "But you're tall, so it's okay for you to weigh that." No it's not. It is not okay. I know what is the good and healthy weight and size for me to be. I know. When I talk about my struggles with weight, it is not a ploy, digging for compliments. It doesn't matter how tall I am. Carrying over thirty pounds of extra weight around is not healthy! I almost never talk about weight with anyone, anymore, because I can't handle hearing this yet again. Just as anyone would tell a fat person, "Don't listen to what other people say to you. Their words are not the truth about who you are," the same is true for me. I appreciate every kind and loving thing anyone has ever said to me about how I look. I really do. But I know what is right and healthy and best for me. I, better than anyone else, know what is right for me.)
But back when I lost that fifty pounds, even though I was happy to be my real size again, I had done none of the emotional work that I needed to do. I didn't know then that there was anything emotional that I needed to address. Now I do.
I gained back thirty-five of those fifty pounds.
I'm not happy.
I am a cheerful person, and sometimes I'm really happy about things.
But
I
am
not
happy.
And yes, it matters.
I feel like this TV show has given me the first tools to really make a good and lasting change.
I know now that there is work to be done inside of me, to search out what is buried in there that is sabotaging my whole life. Once I find those roots and start grubbing them out, then real, true, lasting changes will start to take place. I will become the whole, healthy, happy person I long to be. :)
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Friday, February 22, 2013
Rebel Hair!
The things I think tend to come together over time, composed of scattered bits and incidents. The process reminds me of those composite rocks I learned about in eighth grade science from Mr. Schmatt. :) This whole train of thought is composed of many thoughts, conversations and observations, including watching seasons of Biggest Loser, and a conversation with Neva the hair lady at WalMart.
Here it is:
I think few people see me as a rebel.
I don't see myself that way all the time.
But if I pull back the shades and look inside, I see the rebel fighter inside of me.
I imagine that people see me as this nice lady who is really very conventional and goes with the flow of what is expected of me.
In a way, that's true. Part of me is that nice lady, and is very conventional and doesn't buck the system. That quiet and conventional part of me is a genuine part of who I am, but is also a choice I make- a way I choose to live and relate to the world.
There is a whole other side to me.
Also inside of me is a fierce, fiery, competitive rebel.
She's in there, and she's alive and well. :)
One way you see this is all over my head.
I don't color my hair, and I wear makeup very rarely.
Part of the reason I don't color my hair is that it saves money. Part of it is that I really just don't notice things and I would seriously be that lady with ten inches of gray roots hanging out before I would suddenly notice them one day. And really, I do like my shiny silver highlights...most of the time.
And then.....in all honesty, part of the reason I don't color my hair is the quiet evidence of my rebel spirit. In our society, looking as young as possible and as polished as possible, is what is generally expected. I like to be different. I hate to be predictable. I want to be ME. This hair- this hair that is darker than it once was, and gray and silver and shorter that it was and has crazy wild bits that just pop up whenever they want and refuse to be controlled? This is me. This is real. This is the real me.
Gray hair has become so rare in my generation, it's almost exotic. The Einstein crazy bits that stick up all over are not my favorite. But oh well. It's tempting to put some beautiful color on my hair, to play with it, and to look younger instantly. But as much fun as that would be, a greater part of me stubbornly digs in and says, "But this is ME!" My gray hair, hanging out there for all the world to see, is the real me. It's who I really am. This. Is. Me.
The makeup thing? It's a very similar thing.
Partly, makeup is dang expensive.
It's also a lot of work.
I like my simple, zero-maintenance approach.
But there is more to it.
There are two important facets to this.
It is way way too easy for me to start to dump all over myself for being "less." When I started being a beauty consultant about twenty-two years ago, I started wearing makeup on almost a daily basis. It was part of the image I was supposed to portray, and at first it was fun. But that ended quickly. A very short time into that process, I looked in the mirror one day, at my real face, and my first thought was, "Ooh, I'd better put some concealer on that!" That pulled me up short in my tracks, right there.
I do like doing up my whole face once in a while. It's fun to look all polished. It's fun to get that shock reaction from people when I do get all made up. It's fun to look like all the other "girls." :) But if I wear makeup more often than those rare times, I swiftly freefall into seeing only faults that need to be fixed when I see myself in the mirror; into a destructive waterfall of self-criticism. It is toxic to me.
I have no issue with other women wearing makeup all the time. Go for it- do your thing! I admire other people's beautiful, put-together looks. I enjoy seeing how other women play with color and style. That's cool. It's fun. :)
This feeling I have is not about other people. It's just about me; it's just so dangerous to my whole attitude toward myself to go down that road.
And here, too, the rebel rears her head.
Just like with wearing my real hair, that fiesty little rebel in me wears her real face right out there for all the world to see. She sticks out her chin and says to the world, "This is me. This is it. This is who I really am. This is as real as it gets."
In a curious way, not all the time but mostly, wearing my real hair and my bare face make me feel strong and confident.
I am proud of myself, for having the courage to go against the flow and just. be. me.
One of my favorite movie lines, from August Rush- "So tell me about you."..."I'm just....me."
I love that. "I'm just...me."
When I watch that scene, or even just remember it, my little inner rebel woman smiles, and softly says, "yeah." :)
Here it is:
I think few people see me as a rebel.
I don't see myself that way all the time.
But if I pull back the shades and look inside, I see the rebel fighter inside of me.
I imagine that people see me as this nice lady who is really very conventional and goes with the flow of what is expected of me.
In a way, that's true. Part of me is that nice lady, and is very conventional and doesn't buck the system. That quiet and conventional part of me is a genuine part of who I am, but is also a choice I make- a way I choose to live and relate to the world.
There is a whole other side to me.
Also inside of me is a fierce, fiery, competitive rebel.
She's in there, and she's alive and well. :)
One way you see this is all over my head.
I don't color my hair, and I wear makeup very rarely.
Part of the reason I don't color my hair is that it saves money. Part of it is that I really just don't notice things and I would seriously be that lady with ten inches of gray roots hanging out before I would suddenly notice them one day. And really, I do like my shiny silver highlights...most of the time.
And then.....in all honesty, part of the reason I don't color my hair is the quiet evidence of my rebel spirit. In our society, looking as young as possible and as polished as possible, is what is generally expected. I like to be different. I hate to be predictable. I want to be ME. This hair- this hair that is darker than it once was, and gray and silver and shorter that it was and has crazy wild bits that just pop up whenever they want and refuse to be controlled? This is me. This is real. This is the real me.
Gray hair has become so rare in my generation, it's almost exotic. The Einstein crazy bits that stick up all over are not my favorite. But oh well. It's tempting to put some beautiful color on my hair, to play with it, and to look younger instantly. But as much fun as that would be, a greater part of me stubbornly digs in and says, "But this is ME!" My gray hair, hanging out there for all the world to see, is the real me. It's who I really am. This. Is. Me.
The makeup thing? It's a very similar thing.
Partly, makeup is dang expensive.
It's also a lot of work.
I like my simple, zero-maintenance approach.
But there is more to it.
There are two important facets to this.
It is way way too easy for me to start to dump all over myself for being "less." When I started being a beauty consultant about twenty-two years ago, I started wearing makeup on almost a daily basis. It was part of the image I was supposed to portray, and at first it was fun. But that ended quickly. A very short time into that process, I looked in the mirror one day, at my real face, and my first thought was, "Ooh, I'd better put some concealer on that!" That pulled me up short in my tracks, right there.
I do like doing up my whole face once in a while. It's fun to look all polished. It's fun to get that shock reaction from people when I do get all made up. It's fun to look like all the other "girls." :) But if I wear makeup more often than those rare times, I swiftly freefall into seeing only faults that need to be fixed when I see myself in the mirror; into a destructive waterfall of self-criticism. It is toxic to me.
I have no issue with other women wearing makeup all the time. Go for it- do your thing! I admire other people's beautiful, put-together looks. I enjoy seeing how other women play with color and style. That's cool. It's fun. :)
This feeling I have is not about other people. It's just about me; it's just so dangerous to my whole attitude toward myself to go down that road.
And here, too, the rebel rears her head.
Just like with wearing my real hair, that fiesty little rebel in me wears her real face right out there for all the world to see. She sticks out her chin and says to the world, "This is me. This is it. This is who I really am. This is as real as it gets."
In a curious way, not all the time but mostly, wearing my real hair and my bare face make me feel strong and confident.
I am proud of myself, for having the courage to go against the flow and just. be. me.
One of my favorite movie lines, from August Rush- "So tell me about you."..."I'm just....me."
I love that. "I'm just...me."
When I watch that scene, or even just remember it, my little inner rebel woman smiles, and softly says, "yeah." :)
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Finally, a reason good enough to make a difference!
I have been on and off the wagon, foodwise, a number of times. The list of things I shouldn't eat, for various reasons, is long and comprehensive. It is a true challenge to faithfully live according to the list. It makes my food world very very small and difficult.
Added to the challenge of the List is the fact that I have a very emotional response to food. I have long been an emotional eater. I've said many times, "I've yet to meet an emotion that didn't feel better with food." On top of that, I have inherited an addictive tendency, which definitely comes into play with food.
This is the main reason I don't use any other potentially addictive substances (I don't drink, smoke or do drugs): Besides all of the other health and well-being reasons to not do these things, I know that if I had the relationship with anything else that I have with food, my life would be a complete mess!
A while back, I fell off the food wagon again, diving headlong into dairy, wheat, sugar, chocolate, etc. I still manage to stay away from the biggest "baddies"- eggs, soy, and almonds- even when I'm stuffing my face with everything else, but the rest of it is plenty. I often dabble in the forbidden foods, even when I'm being "good," because none of the consequences seemed that serious. I've done a lot of, "Yeah, that's a price I'm willing to pay, for the chance to eat that cupcake" kind of thinking.
Just recently, I finally came to a realization that has changed my tune. Dramatically.
I think I have figured out some of my random wheat symptoms, and this spooked me enough to yank my wheels back on track!
My wheat reactions have seemed sort of random and unconnected, so I didn't take them very seriously...If I eat wheat, the skin over my knuckles starts to crack and bleed, and I would get this cough at night. I couldn't figure it out. I used hand lotion and tried to drink more water. I spent a lot of nights sleeping on the couch, sitting up straight, since that was the only thing that seemed to help the cough. I had definitely made a connection between eating wheat and those two specific reactions, but it didn't make sense. I knew they were linked, but not why.
Here is what I've come to understand:
***The Bleeding hands: Refined wheat flour is an inflammatory food. I believe that when I eat wheat, it causes inflammation all through my digestive system. An inflamed system cannot absorb water well. I eat wheat, inflammation happens, my body can't properly process water, I dehydrate quickly, and it shows up in fragile skin that splits open and bleeds. This also means that my body isn't able to properly absorb nutrients from my food, so though I can't see it, I'm sure I go into nutritional decline as well.
***The Cough. This has been a problem for years, but I could never figure it out. I used to think it was caused by my dabbling in the dairy world. Nope. Then I wondered if there was some specific allergen in our bedroom that would cause me to start coughing within thirty minutes to an hour after going to bed. I finally made the connection that it happened reliably when I ate wheat- even a little bit. Just in the past two weeks, I think I've finally figured it out. A nagging, non-productive cough is one of the symptoms of acid reflux. I had never thought of that, since I wasn't having the pain I experienced with heartburn while pregnant. Then one recent day, all of the puzzle pieces suddenly fell into place.
Cough= acid reflux. Acid reflux leads to G.E.R.D. - GastroEsophageal Reflux Disease. Untreated G.E.R.D. dramatically increases the risk for esophageal cancer!!!!!! Oh. Okay.
Much as I love cupcakes, no cupcake in the world is worth cancer!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly cured of the desire to dabble.
Sad that it took the idea of cancer to make me finally take this seriously, but hopefully I've made the change in time to save myself from that fate!
I'm not sure why wheat causes such reliable acid reflux, but it does, and it doesn't take more than a tiny bit to start that chain reaction.
Oh! I just remembered- now there's a new suspicion I'm entertaining about the effects of wheat on my body. Sometime in the past year or two, my sister shared something on facebook about effects of wheat gluten on the body. It mentioned muscle weakness as one. That made a lot of sense to me. In the past, I've had times when, for as much as a week, one or both of my hands would be inexplicably weak. I would be holding things and just drop them for no reason. When I read that information, it made sense to me. As I've cut back on wheat in general, I have noticed an improvement in this.
Now I've started to make another connection along those lines.
***The Swallowing. For years, I have had some trouble with swallowing. Whenever I eat pretty much anything, but especially anything remotely starchy, I HAVE to have water to drink or the food quickly gets stuck in my throat. This is both scary and painful. It's an awful, choking sensation, and my diaphragm would start spasming, giving me very painful hiccups. I definitely make sure I have water on hand when I eat! I think half-melted ice cream is the only thing that doesn't cause this.
I've always just thought I had inefficient peristaltic action. Peristalsis is the muscle action that moves things through us, from swallowing all the way through the digestive process. For years, I've just though this didn't work well in me. I also know that my Grandma Jessie had a lot of trouble, for years and years, with food sticking in her throat and choking her, so I thought maybe it was a genetic thing.
I think I may be figuring this out, for myself at least. I wonder now if it is connected to that gluten=muscle weakness situation. I wonder if the wheat I ate all these years was causing weakness in my swallowing muscles. I wonder if that's why I've had so much trouble.
Ohhhhh. I wonder if the acid reflux could also be connected to muscle weakness. The sphincter muscle at the top of the stomach is what is supposed to contain stomach acids. If that muscle were weakened, acid would leak up into the esophagus. Ohhhh. I think I'm starting to see more of the pattern.
It is my hope, since I'm finally taking seriously the damage that wheat does to me, and the dire possibilities of continued dabbling, that as I truly cut wheat out of my diet altogether, I will see improvement in this whole choking issue.
It would be so awesome if, by just not eating wheat, I could solve this long-term and scary problem!
At long last, I have enough serious reasons to cut wheat completely out of my world.
Dehydration and bleeding hands? Yup.
Constant danger of choking? Oh yeah.
CANCER??!!! Most definitely!!!
Added to the challenge of the List is the fact that I have a very emotional response to food. I have long been an emotional eater. I've said many times, "I've yet to meet an emotion that didn't feel better with food." On top of that, I have inherited an addictive tendency, which definitely comes into play with food.
This is the main reason I don't use any other potentially addictive substances (I don't drink, smoke or do drugs): Besides all of the other health and well-being reasons to not do these things, I know that if I had the relationship with anything else that I have with food, my life would be a complete mess!
A while back, I fell off the food wagon again, diving headlong into dairy, wheat, sugar, chocolate, etc. I still manage to stay away from the biggest "baddies"- eggs, soy, and almonds- even when I'm stuffing my face with everything else, but the rest of it is plenty. I often dabble in the forbidden foods, even when I'm being "good," because none of the consequences seemed that serious. I've done a lot of, "Yeah, that's a price I'm willing to pay, for the chance to eat that cupcake" kind of thinking.
Just recently, I finally came to a realization that has changed my tune. Dramatically.
I think I have figured out some of my random wheat symptoms, and this spooked me enough to yank my wheels back on track!
My wheat reactions have seemed sort of random and unconnected, so I didn't take them very seriously...If I eat wheat, the skin over my knuckles starts to crack and bleed, and I would get this cough at night. I couldn't figure it out. I used hand lotion and tried to drink more water. I spent a lot of nights sleeping on the couch, sitting up straight, since that was the only thing that seemed to help the cough. I had definitely made a connection between eating wheat and those two specific reactions, but it didn't make sense. I knew they were linked, but not why.
Here is what I've come to understand:
***The Bleeding hands: Refined wheat flour is an inflammatory food. I believe that when I eat wheat, it causes inflammation all through my digestive system. An inflamed system cannot absorb water well. I eat wheat, inflammation happens, my body can't properly process water, I dehydrate quickly, and it shows up in fragile skin that splits open and bleeds. This also means that my body isn't able to properly absorb nutrients from my food, so though I can't see it, I'm sure I go into nutritional decline as well.
***The Cough. This has been a problem for years, but I could never figure it out. I used to think it was caused by my dabbling in the dairy world. Nope. Then I wondered if there was some specific allergen in our bedroom that would cause me to start coughing within thirty minutes to an hour after going to bed. I finally made the connection that it happened reliably when I ate wheat- even a little bit. Just in the past two weeks, I think I've finally figured it out. A nagging, non-productive cough is one of the symptoms of acid reflux. I had never thought of that, since I wasn't having the pain I experienced with heartburn while pregnant. Then one recent day, all of the puzzle pieces suddenly fell into place.
Cough= acid reflux. Acid reflux leads to G.E.R.D. - GastroEsophageal Reflux Disease. Untreated G.E.R.D. dramatically increases the risk for esophageal cancer!!!!!! Oh. Okay.
Much as I love cupcakes, no cupcake in the world is worth cancer!!!!!!!!!
Suddenly cured of the desire to dabble.
Sad that it took the idea of cancer to make me finally take this seriously, but hopefully I've made the change in time to save myself from that fate!
I'm not sure why wheat causes such reliable acid reflux, but it does, and it doesn't take more than a tiny bit to start that chain reaction.
Oh! I just remembered- now there's a new suspicion I'm entertaining about the effects of wheat on my body. Sometime in the past year or two, my sister shared something on facebook about effects of wheat gluten on the body. It mentioned muscle weakness as one. That made a lot of sense to me. In the past, I've had times when, for as much as a week, one or both of my hands would be inexplicably weak. I would be holding things and just drop them for no reason. When I read that information, it made sense to me. As I've cut back on wheat in general, I have noticed an improvement in this.
Now I've started to make another connection along those lines.
***The Swallowing. For years, I have had some trouble with swallowing. Whenever I eat pretty much anything, but especially anything remotely starchy, I HAVE to have water to drink or the food quickly gets stuck in my throat. This is both scary and painful. It's an awful, choking sensation, and my diaphragm would start spasming, giving me very painful hiccups. I definitely make sure I have water on hand when I eat! I think half-melted ice cream is the only thing that doesn't cause this.
I've always just thought I had inefficient peristaltic action. Peristalsis is the muscle action that moves things through us, from swallowing all the way through the digestive process. For years, I've just though this didn't work well in me. I also know that my Grandma Jessie had a lot of trouble, for years and years, with food sticking in her throat and choking her, so I thought maybe it was a genetic thing.
I think I may be figuring this out, for myself at least. I wonder now if it is connected to that gluten=muscle weakness situation. I wonder if the wheat I ate all these years was causing weakness in my swallowing muscles. I wonder if that's why I've had so much trouble.
Ohhhhh. I wonder if the acid reflux could also be connected to muscle weakness. The sphincter muscle at the top of the stomach is what is supposed to contain stomach acids. If that muscle were weakened, acid would leak up into the esophagus. Ohhhh. I think I'm starting to see more of the pattern.
It is my hope, since I'm finally taking seriously the damage that wheat does to me, and the dire possibilities of continued dabbling, that as I truly cut wheat out of my diet altogether, I will see improvement in this whole choking issue.
It would be so awesome if, by just not eating wheat, I could solve this long-term and scary problem!
At long last, I have enough serious reasons to cut wheat completely out of my world.
Dehydration and bleeding hands? Yup.
Constant danger of choking? Oh yeah.
CANCER??!!! Most definitely!!!
Wednesday, January 23, 2013
Cornbread That Won't Kill Me! :D
I pondered several different cornbread recipes, before patch-working my own gluten-free version to try.
Here's what I did:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Lightly grease a nine-inch glass pie dish. I used a bit of Spectrum for this.
Combine:
* 1 1/4 cups *milk*
[I used So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk]
* 1 Tbsp. vinegar
[I used distilled white- it's what I had. I prefer apple cider vinegar.]
Stir together and let sit. It will get all clumpy. This takes the place of buttermilk very nicely.
Combine:
* 1 1/2 cups cornmeal
* 1/2 cup *flour*
[I used 1/4 cup millet flour, then on the second 1/4 cup I filled the cup halfway with potato starch and topped it off with more millet flour. So, the exact measurements would be 1/4 cup + 2 Tablespoons millet flour and 2 Tablespoons potato starch, or 3/8 cup millet flour & 1/8 cup potato starch. It would probably also work well with a basic gluten-free flour mix.]
* (2 tsp.) baking powder- this was too much. Next time, I'll try 1 or 1 1/2 teaspoons.
* 1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
* 1/2 tsp. baking soda
* 1 tsp. salt
* 1 or 2 Tbsp. sugar
[I think I used one Tbsp. of sugar. I knew we would put honey on it, so kept it less sweet.]
Stir all the dry ingredients together well. I usually use a wire whisk for this- it works well.
Cut into dry ingredients:
* 1/4 cup shortening [I used Spectrum non-hydrogenated shortening]
Cut in well with a pastry blender, until there are no big clumps left.
Combine:
* 1 1/2 tsp. Ener-G Egg Replacer powder
* 2 Tbsp. *milk* [I used So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk]
[Make sure this is really well combined, with no clumps. I had a few clumps, even after whisking it well, so I think I'll put it through a wire strainer next time.]
Add soured milk mixture and egg replacer mixture to dry ingredients. Mix until combined, but don't overmix. Pour into prepared dish. Bake for 20 - 25 minutes, or until baked through in the center.
I loved this, cut open and spread with more Spectrum shortening and topped with honey. Agave nectar would also be really good on it, in place of honey.
Enjoy!
Here's what I did:
Preheat oven to 400 degrees.
Lightly grease a nine-inch glass pie dish. I used a bit of Spectrum for this.
Combine:
* 1 1/4 cups *milk*
[I used So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk]
* 1 Tbsp. vinegar
[I used distilled white- it's what I had. I prefer apple cider vinegar.]
Stir together and let sit. It will get all clumpy. This takes the place of buttermilk very nicely.
Combine:
* 1 1/2 cups cornmeal
* 1/2 cup *flour*
[I used 1/4 cup millet flour, then on the second 1/4 cup I filled the cup halfway with potato starch and topped it off with more millet flour. So, the exact measurements would be 1/4 cup + 2 Tablespoons millet flour and 2 Tablespoons potato starch, or 3/8 cup millet flour & 1/8 cup potato starch. It would probably also work well with a basic gluten-free flour mix.]
* (2 tsp.) baking powder- this was too much. Next time, I'll try 1 or 1 1/2 teaspoons.
* 1/2 tsp. xanthan gum
* 1/2 tsp. baking soda
* 1 tsp. salt
* 1 or 2 Tbsp. sugar
[I think I used one Tbsp. of sugar. I knew we would put honey on it, so kept it less sweet.]
Stir all the dry ingredients together well. I usually use a wire whisk for this- it works well.
Cut into dry ingredients:
* 1/4 cup shortening [I used Spectrum non-hydrogenated shortening]
Cut in well with a pastry blender, until there are no big clumps left.
Combine:
* 1 1/2 tsp. Ener-G Egg Replacer powder
* 2 Tbsp. *milk* [I used So Delicious unsweetened coconut milk]
[Make sure this is really well combined, with no clumps. I had a few clumps, even after whisking it well, so I think I'll put it through a wire strainer next time.]
Add soured milk mixture and egg replacer mixture to dry ingredients. Mix until combined, but don't overmix. Pour into prepared dish. Bake for 20 - 25 minutes, or until baked through in the center.
I loved this, cut open and spread with more Spectrum shortening and topped with honey. Agave nectar would also be really good on it, in place of honey.
Enjoy!
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Taking a Lesson From Sam
I had a conversation on Facebook yesterday, that got me thinking in a fresh way about what marriage really should be.
It started, of course, with Lord of the Rings. :)
"It got me thinking about Sam and Frodo. That is a beautiful picture of what marriage really should be- that lasting friendship, and deep loyalty, and that sense of 'I will be there, by your side, supporting you and helping you, even if it means we die together on a rock in Mordor. You will never be alone, because I will be there, no matter what!'
I love that! ♥
"You know, if in the marriage ceremony, God stood there in person and said something to the effect of, "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee!!!" ...maybe people would approach marriage differently, if they realized that is really how God feels about marriage- even into the face of the fires of Mount Doom! Then maybe people would say, to the depth and extent of their whole being, 'I don't mean to!!!' and throw themselves into the river, and follow each other through the black valley, and truly have each other's back, no matter what!"
That is really what it should be.
It started, of course, with Lord of the Rings. :)
"It got me thinking about Sam and Frodo. That is a beautiful picture of what marriage really should be- that lasting friendship, and deep loyalty, and that sense of 'I will be there, by your side, supporting you and helping you, even if it means we die together on a rock in Mordor. You will never be alone, because I will be there, no matter what!'
I love that! ♥
"You know, if in the marriage ceremony, God stood there in person and said something to the effect of, "Don't you leave him, Samwise Gamgee!!!" ...maybe people would approach marriage differently, if they realized that is really how God feels about marriage- even into the face of the fires of Mount Doom! Then maybe people would say, to the depth and extent of their whole being, 'I don't mean to!!!' and throw themselves into the river, and follow each other through the black valley, and truly have each other's back, no matter what!"
That is really what it should be.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Is the Puppy Just Playing Me?
Hmmm....
I know that the Small Dog (who was a year old in June) is perfectly capable of surviving for several hours at at a time in her kennel crate when nobody is home.
So, when I am home and she comes to me with pleading eyes and pitiful little whines every half hour or hour, why do I always believe that she is in the most dire distress?
I do not know how to tell when she honestly needs to go out, and when she's just bored and wants to know if Outside is somehow more magically interesting at that moment in time.
Does she really need to go out so very often, when I'm home?
Or is she just playing me like a banjo?
I know that the Small Dog (who was a year old in June) is perfectly capable of surviving for several hours at at a time in her kennel crate when nobody is home.
So, when I am home and she comes to me with pleading eyes and pitiful little whines every half hour or hour, why do I always believe that she is in the most dire distress?
I do not know how to tell when she honestly needs to go out, and when she's just bored and wants to know if Outside is somehow more magically interesting at that moment in time.
Does she really need to go out so very often, when I'm home?
Or is she just playing me like a banjo?
Indispensible, That's What You Are.....
Every time I come home from a trip, I wonder whether I want this to truly be my theme song.
I'm never sure of the answer.
At the end of a busy trip, with a long, exhausting drive home, I feel even more tired when I see the things that weren't done while I was away.
Then I feel ungrateful, for not just appreciating all that was done during my absence.
Then I wonder- would I really like coming home and seeing that my absence made no difference whatsoever; that everything sailed along just as smoothly without me?
Does my disgruntled grumbling have a smug edge? A satisfied core? A sense of, "Well, obviously they do need me after all!"?
I think it does.
*sigh*
I came home from a trip last night. I made the drive in record time (not speeding- I just didn't stop much), but I'd made such a late start that I got home a little after eleven thirty at night.
I did notice, and appreciate, that the dishwasher was running.
I did notice, and appreciate, the baskets of clean laundry in the living room, that were washed while I was gone.
...
And I also found myself prowling around, looking for proof that they just can't do without me!
[giant eyeroll at myself!!!]
I took the rotting chicken from the fridge, and tossed it in the trash. [See! Without me, things just fall apart!]
I grumblingly watered houseplants. [Does nobody water these but me?! Every time I leave, the same plants are nearly dead by the time I come home!]
[giant eyeroll at self, followed by "face palm"]
I am certain I am not the only one who does this.
I do, in fact, suspect that this is a fairly common human condition,
but that does not make me any less disgusted with myself.
I think most of us probably wrestle at times with this quandary; this flip-flopping between appreciating proof that the world does not fall completely apart the moment we step out the door, and dismay at all that is neglected in our absence.
I'm sure it's not just me.
But still.....
[face palm, shaking head at my own relentlessly consistent inconsistency!]
I'm never sure of the answer.
At the end of a busy trip, with a long, exhausting drive home, I feel even more tired when I see the things that weren't done while I was away.
Then I feel ungrateful, for not just appreciating all that was done during my absence.
Then I wonder- would I really like coming home and seeing that my absence made no difference whatsoever; that everything sailed along just as smoothly without me?
Does my disgruntled grumbling have a smug edge? A satisfied core? A sense of, "Well, obviously they do need me after all!"?
I think it does.
*sigh*
I came home from a trip last night. I made the drive in record time (not speeding- I just didn't stop much), but I'd made such a late start that I got home a little after eleven thirty at night.
I did notice, and appreciate, that the dishwasher was running.
I did notice, and appreciate, the baskets of clean laundry in the living room, that were washed while I was gone.
...
And I also found myself prowling around, looking for proof that they just can't do without me!
[giant eyeroll at myself!!!]
I took the rotting chicken from the fridge, and tossed it in the trash. [See! Without me, things just fall apart!]
I grumblingly watered houseplants. [Does nobody water these but me?! Every time I leave, the same plants are nearly dead by the time I come home!]
[giant eyeroll at self, followed by "face palm"]
I am certain I am not the only one who does this.
I do, in fact, suspect that this is a fairly common human condition,
but that does not make me any less disgusted with myself.
I think most of us probably wrestle at times with this quandary; this flip-flopping between appreciating proof that the world does not fall completely apart the moment we step out the door, and dismay at all that is neglected in our absence.
I'm sure it's not just me.
But still.....
[face palm, shaking head at my own relentlessly consistent inconsistency!]
Monday, August 13, 2012
The Biggest Loser
I've started watching The Biggest Loser, Season 1, on Netflix with our younger daughter.
Does this show not just make you want to get out and exercise??!!!
And eat right?
Needless to say, after watching last night, I went back to starting my day with fresh fruit this morning! I really do enjoy beginning my day with flavorful, seasonal fresh fruit. Today it was chunks of juicy watermelon. It's just such a good way to start the day. :)
Does this show not just make you want to get out and exercise??!!!
And eat right?
Needless to say, after watching last night, I went back to starting my day with fresh fruit this morning! I really do enjoy beginning my day with flavorful, seasonal fresh fruit. Today it was chunks of juicy watermelon. It's just such a good way to start the day. :)
Saturday, August 4, 2012
When God Spoke To Me...In The Safeway Parking Lot
The few times God has spoken directly to me, it wasn't with a voice of thunder reverberating around me with solemn majesty.
And He never speaks to me like something out of archaic poetry, or the King James Bible. There is no, "Fear not, Beloved Daughter, to approach with joy. Be not afraid to cast thyself upon my mercy."
No. When God speaks to me, which has happened just a few times in my life, it is in a firm voice that speaks within my mind, but the words do not come from my thoughts. It is a surreal experience, but so definite that I do not hesitate to state that it was God speaking to me.
I have just re-read the Attolia series (a set of four books by Megan Whalen Turner, in the kid's or possibly young adult section at the library). We love this series! Anyway, in these books there are a few times when the gods of the main character speak to him. At one point, he complains to a friend that the poets lied; that the gods never speak to him in bold and majestic poetry. No, they say things to him like, "Stop whining!" I laughed when I read that, because I could totally relate.
So, to the Safeway parking lot.
Well, actually, before we get to the parking lot, there needs to be some background.
There was a time, a couple of years ago, when for two or three weeks in a row, I had the absolute best days...on Monday! It was great! Everyone around me was slogging through their miserable Monday-ness, and I was breezing along, having the most blissful time.
On Monday evenings, from September through May, I work in the Awana program at our church, helping kids learn about the Bible. My friend's son was in my handbook group at the time of this story, and he has some challenges in his life. During the time I was having these blissful Mondays, this friend called me on Monday afternoon, a couple of weeks in a row, to say, "He's had a pretty rough day at school. Where are you at with your day? Can you handle it if he's struggling this evening?" And in the peace and ease of my days, I said, "I'm having a great day! I can totally handle it!"
Then there was the dark side of my Marvelous Mondays. I glided through the whole day, smiling and serene, basking in the peace of my own personal day. And then my family came home. And they spoiled my perfect day, with their crankiness, and their outrage over the day, and their very neediness sucking the marrow from my bones. I did not appreciate the way they ruined those perfectly lovely days. I'm pretty sure I even complained to them, "I was having this great day, and then you ruined it!" Needless to say, not some of my finest parenting moments!
Those few weeks of the Mondays of Peace and Sweetness passed by, and soon after, I stopped to visit with a lady I know, in the Safeway parking lot. Yes, we have at last arrived at the fabeled Lot of Parking that began this whole saga. I told her all about my Wonderful Mondays, and how much I enjoyed them, and how they enabled me to pour peace and love on the ruffled feathers of my friend's son...and also how my family just wrecked the whole thing and spoiled it for me.
We said goodbye, and as I walked to my car, God spoke to me, quite clearly, inside the privacy of my own head, interrupting the thoughts that were muddling around in there.
And God said to me....
"STOP BEING SO SELFISH WITH YOUR GOOD DAYS!!!!!!!"
Oh.
Oooooohhhhhhhhhh.
Yet another time in which I felt I should be wearing a big label that said, "It's not about me!" I should probably tattoo that on the back of my hand where I can see it often. It bears repeating.
Yes, those lovely, peaceful days were a gift to me, but they were not for only me. I was feeling resentful of how my family spoiled my shiny mood...instead of loving them from that place of peace and sweetness; blessing them at the end of a hard day!
Oh.
Those lovely days were FOR me, but they were not ABOUT me!
They were a gift to me, but a gift I was supposed to share!!!
And He never speaks to me like something out of archaic poetry, or the King James Bible. There is no, "Fear not, Beloved Daughter, to approach with joy. Be not afraid to cast thyself upon my mercy."
No. When God speaks to me, which has happened just a few times in my life, it is in a firm voice that speaks within my mind, but the words do not come from my thoughts. It is a surreal experience, but so definite that I do not hesitate to state that it was God speaking to me.
I have just re-read the Attolia series (a set of four books by Megan Whalen Turner, in the kid's or possibly young adult section at the library). We love this series! Anyway, in these books there are a few times when the gods of the main character speak to him. At one point, he complains to a friend that the poets lied; that the gods never speak to him in bold and majestic poetry. No, they say things to him like, "Stop whining!" I laughed when I read that, because I could totally relate.
So, to the Safeway parking lot.
Well, actually, before we get to the parking lot, there needs to be some background.
There was a time, a couple of years ago, when for two or three weeks in a row, I had the absolute best days...on Monday! It was great! Everyone around me was slogging through their miserable Monday-ness, and I was breezing along, having the most blissful time.
On Monday evenings, from September through May, I work in the Awana program at our church, helping kids learn about the Bible. My friend's son was in my handbook group at the time of this story, and he has some challenges in his life. During the time I was having these blissful Mondays, this friend called me on Monday afternoon, a couple of weeks in a row, to say, "He's had a pretty rough day at school. Where are you at with your day? Can you handle it if he's struggling this evening?" And in the peace and ease of my days, I said, "I'm having a great day! I can totally handle it!"
Then there was the dark side of my Marvelous Mondays. I glided through the whole day, smiling and serene, basking in the peace of my own personal day. And then my family came home. And they spoiled my perfect day, with their crankiness, and their outrage over the day, and their very neediness sucking the marrow from my bones. I did not appreciate the way they ruined those perfectly lovely days. I'm pretty sure I even complained to them, "I was having this great day, and then you ruined it!" Needless to say, not some of my finest parenting moments!
Those few weeks of the Mondays of Peace and Sweetness passed by, and soon after, I stopped to visit with a lady I know, in the Safeway parking lot. Yes, we have at last arrived at the fabeled Lot of Parking that began this whole saga. I told her all about my Wonderful Mondays, and how much I enjoyed them, and how they enabled me to pour peace and love on the ruffled feathers of my friend's son...and also how my family just wrecked the whole thing and spoiled it for me.
We said goodbye, and as I walked to my car, God spoke to me, quite clearly, inside the privacy of my own head, interrupting the thoughts that were muddling around in there.
And God said to me....
"STOP BEING SO SELFISH WITH YOUR GOOD DAYS!!!!!!!"
Oh.
Oooooohhhhhhhhhh.
Yet another time in which I felt I should be wearing a big label that said, "It's not about me!" I should probably tattoo that on the back of my hand where I can see it often. It bears repeating.
Yes, those lovely, peaceful days were a gift to me, but they were not for only me. I was feeling resentful of how my family spoiled my shiny mood...instead of loving them from that place of peace and sweetness; blessing them at the end of a hard day!
Oh.
Those lovely days were FOR me, but they were not ABOUT me!
They were a gift to me, but a gift I was supposed to share!!!
Monday, July 30, 2012
What We've Been Eating Lately...
I have thought of my little blog often this summer, but my life and the inside of my head have not been conducive to reflective thought and writing. Today, I feel able for a brief post...before leaping back onto the whirling merry-go-round of the day.
I'm just feeling really good about the food choices I/we have been making these past several days, and wanted to write about it. After months upon months of heedless eating mixed with the heavy struggle back toward healthier ways, there is progress!
The other night, we had some steaks, so the Dear Eldest Daughter and I worked together to come up with a healthy meal. We concocted a Southwestern kind of dry rub (sea salt, cumin, oregano, parsley, chipotle chili powder, paprika, and a dash of cinnamon), which we massaged into the meat, then let it sit for a bit, before the Meat Maestro put it on the grill. As side dishes/steak toppers, we made guacamole, pico de gallo (freshly chopped salsa), and the black bean side dish we've been doing lately. It was all sooooo flavorful! And so healthy! And low on the glycemic index! Not one thing in there that compromised the health or well-being of any of us. That felt great!
**Black bean side dish: one can of black beans, drained. One jalapeno, minced. Juice of one small lime, and a dash of sea salt. I just put it all in a skillet and warm it up a little bit. We've been loving this as an alternative to refried beans.
** A friend recently taught me how to choose and prepare jalapenos so there is no heat, only flavor. Choose a jalapeno that is smooth and glossy, with no stretch-mark scars. Wearing gloves, clean it carefully, cutting out the whitish veins inside, and discarding the top and seeds.
The next night, we had hamburgers. I don't eat the bun anymore- avoiding wheat. So, I had a hamburger patty, with a hearty dollop of guacamole on top, with raw sugar snap peas, carrot sticks, and large chunks of cucumber on the side, with watermelon for dessert. Again, so tasty! So healthy! So perfect in regards to the glycemic index! So completely free of foods we can't tolerate! It feels so good to eat this way!
We went to see the movie Brave last night, which was wonderful- I especially loved the short film "LaLuna" before the movie. It was beautiful and precious. Anyway, at the theater, I considered the candy and popcorn, and then I walked away with just my bottle of water! I felt very proud of myself!
And today- I had half a fresh apple to start the day. I found some "Envy" apples at the store the other day, and I really like them. Later, I had a small carton of coconut milk yogurt. Just now, I had the other half of my apple, with a scoop of sunflower nut butter. What a great way to begin my day and my week!
I also weighed in this morning (a dose of reality/accountability that I've been doing for....maybe nine years?) and I am losing weight! At last! I'm not sure exactly how much total, but I think it's approaching ten pounds!
It feels wonderful to be walking a healthier path again!
I'm just feeling really good about the food choices I/we have been making these past several days, and wanted to write about it. After months upon months of heedless eating mixed with the heavy struggle back toward healthier ways, there is progress!
The other night, we had some steaks, so the Dear Eldest Daughter and I worked together to come up with a healthy meal. We concocted a Southwestern kind of dry rub (sea salt, cumin, oregano, parsley, chipotle chili powder, paprika, and a dash of cinnamon), which we massaged into the meat, then let it sit for a bit, before the Meat Maestro put it on the grill. As side dishes/steak toppers, we made guacamole, pico de gallo (freshly chopped salsa), and the black bean side dish we've been doing lately. It was all sooooo flavorful! And so healthy! And low on the glycemic index! Not one thing in there that compromised the health or well-being of any of us. That felt great!
**Black bean side dish: one can of black beans, drained. One jalapeno, minced. Juice of one small lime, and a dash of sea salt. I just put it all in a skillet and warm it up a little bit. We've been loving this as an alternative to refried beans.
** A friend recently taught me how to choose and prepare jalapenos so there is no heat, only flavor. Choose a jalapeno that is smooth and glossy, with no stretch-mark scars. Wearing gloves, clean it carefully, cutting out the whitish veins inside, and discarding the top and seeds.
The next night, we had hamburgers. I don't eat the bun anymore- avoiding wheat. So, I had a hamburger patty, with a hearty dollop of guacamole on top, with raw sugar snap peas, carrot sticks, and large chunks of cucumber on the side, with watermelon for dessert. Again, so tasty! So healthy! So perfect in regards to the glycemic index! So completely free of foods we can't tolerate! It feels so good to eat this way!
We went to see the movie Brave last night, which was wonderful- I especially loved the short film "LaLuna" before the movie. It was beautiful and precious. Anyway, at the theater, I considered the candy and popcorn, and then I walked away with just my bottle of water! I felt very proud of myself!
And today- I had half a fresh apple to start the day. I found some "Envy" apples at the store the other day, and I really like them. Later, I had a small carton of coconut milk yogurt. Just now, I had the other half of my apple, with a scoop of sunflower nut butter. What a great way to begin my day and my week!
I also weighed in this morning (a dose of reality/accountability that I've been doing for....maybe nine years?) and I am losing weight! At last! I'm not sure exactly how much total, but I think it's approaching ten pounds!
It feels wonderful to be walking a healthier path again!
Friday, May 25, 2012
Alternative Tamale Success!
In the past week, I have made tamales for the first time, and I was very happy with how they turned out. I used chicken breast, and made them flavorful but mild. I am a total spice-heat wimp. I also experimented with a vegetarian version, using Spectrum palm-oil shortening instead of lard, and a black bean-sweet potato filling. That also turned out well.
Now for the most recent challenge variant: How to make tamales for a daughter who cannot have any corn? The essential elements that define a tamale are the filling, on a base of masa (cornmeal) paste, wrapped in a corn husk. Filling. Corn. Corn.
I planned to use up the rest of the tamale ingredients for dinner tonight, and decided to improvise on a corn-free inspiration I'd had. Corn Free Daughter is back at college, and therefore unable to participate in the experiment, but I wanted to see how my idea would work.
Someone told me a while back, when I first set out on my tamale quest, that one can also use parchment paper to package tamales, instead of the traditional corn husks. Element one: solved.
I pondered the nature of the masa base.
Masa harina.
Well....it's really the same corn meal that my mom used to make hot cereal when we were wee girls.
So.......could another, corn-free, hot cereal work as well?
Why not?
I decided to try Cream of Wheat.
Cream of Wheat is also known as Wheat Farina.
Masa harina. Wheat farina.
Gotta love a food solution that not only works, but also rhymes!!! :D
I followed the same directions as for preparing the masa: Beat the shortening in the mixer with salt and baking powder; combine the dry wheat farina with warm liquid (I used chicken stock that I had on hand. Water works equally well, making a vegetarian version very easy); added the dampened wheat farina to the beaten shortening in several batches, beating all the while. It worked admirably!
I cut parchment pieces of approximately the same dimensions as the average tamale corn husk, spread on my wheat paste base, and topped it with my seasoned shredded chicken breast. You can use either kitchen string or strips of corn husk to tie the bundles shut. Since I had the pile of prepared husks, I used them. Also, my string is missing. :)
I put my corn-free tamales on to steam, and went about my other evening business.
They turned out well! The first couple/few bites seemed very different, but I quickly started to like the new version.
So, not only a successful experiment, but tasty Friday evening dinner also! We had the chicken/corn tamales, and the chicken/wheat tamales, with a bean side dish that was also an experiment.
Beans- some Anasazi beans I had previously soaked and cooked from their dry state, then drained and stored in the fridge. Tonight, I added a carefully chosen, carefully cleaned serrano pepper, blended with cumin, oregano, sea salt and chicken stock. I added this seasoning concoction to the beans, along with kale cut small and more chicken stock. It turned out okay. I think it needed more flavor. There was enough of the pepper, but I could have used more cumin and oregano. Overall, though, it was good, and a good companion to the tamales.
I am rather pleased with the success of my experiment, and eager to share it with No-Corn Daughter!
p.s. fun note: one= tamal, more than one= tamales :)
O, en Espanol, Un= tamal, pero moltos = tamales. ;D ....At least, I think that's right. :)
Now for the most recent challenge variant: How to make tamales for a daughter who cannot have any corn? The essential elements that define a tamale are the filling, on a base of masa (cornmeal) paste, wrapped in a corn husk. Filling. Corn. Corn.
I planned to use up the rest of the tamale ingredients for dinner tonight, and decided to improvise on a corn-free inspiration I'd had. Corn Free Daughter is back at college, and therefore unable to participate in the experiment, but I wanted to see how my idea would work.
Someone told me a while back, when I first set out on my tamale quest, that one can also use parchment paper to package tamales, instead of the traditional corn husks. Element one: solved.
I pondered the nature of the masa base.
Masa harina.
Well....it's really the same corn meal that my mom used to make hot cereal when we were wee girls.
So.......could another, corn-free, hot cereal work as well?
Why not?
I decided to try Cream of Wheat.
Cream of Wheat is also known as Wheat Farina.
Masa harina. Wheat farina.
Gotta love a food solution that not only works, but also rhymes!!! :D
I followed the same directions as for preparing the masa: Beat the shortening in the mixer with salt and baking powder; combine the dry wheat farina with warm liquid (I used chicken stock that I had on hand. Water works equally well, making a vegetarian version very easy); added the dampened wheat farina to the beaten shortening in several batches, beating all the while. It worked admirably!
I cut parchment pieces of approximately the same dimensions as the average tamale corn husk, spread on my wheat paste base, and topped it with my seasoned shredded chicken breast. You can use either kitchen string or strips of corn husk to tie the bundles shut. Since I had the pile of prepared husks, I used them. Also, my string is missing. :)
I put my corn-free tamales on to steam, and went about my other evening business.
They turned out well! The first couple/few bites seemed very different, but I quickly started to like the new version.
So, not only a successful experiment, but tasty Friday evening dinner also! We had the chicken/corn tamales, and the chicken/wheat tamales, with a bean side dish that was also an experiment.
Beans- some Anasazi beans I had previously soaked and cooked from their dry state, then drained and stored in the fridge. Tonight, I added a carefully chosen, carefully cleaned serrano pepper, blended with cumin, oregano, sea salt and chicken stock. I added this seasoning concoction to the beans, along with kale cut small and more chicken stock. It turned out okay. I think it needed more flavor. There was enough of the pepper, but I could have used more cumin and oregano. Overall, though, it was good, and a good companion to the tamales.
I am rather pleased with the success of my experiment, and eager to share it with No-Corn Daughter!
p.s. fun note: one= tamal, more than one= tamales :)
O, en Espanol, Un= tamal, pero moltos = tamales. ;D ....At least, I think that's right. :)
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Sleepy Eyes, Sweet Potatoes, Stinky Hands and Sticker Feet
Wow! I hadn't realized it had been so long since I wrote a new post! Well, now I shall make amends. :)
I find myself extremely tired today. I have been putting in exceedingly long, full, busy days of late, and it really caught up to me this morning. After the busy beginning to my day, I took a solid nap! I rarely do that, but I seemed to be in desperate need of rest. I also rarely have a day that is not thick with commitments, so this was a rare coincidence of need and opportunity! I felt so much better when I got up again.
What was the busy start of my day, you ask? Well, maybe you didn't, but I will tell you anyway. :)
First thing this morning, at about 6:20 am, I drove clean laundry across town to our hardworking son. He's using a bicycle as transport just now, to save on gas money and because his pickup is having serious issues. It's pretty challenging to carry a full laundry basket on a bike, so he wasn't able to take it home yesterday. By the time I got home last night, I was pretty sure he was already asleep. When I called this morning and offered to bring his clean clothes over, he was so thankful. It's nice to do things for someone so thoroughly grateful and appreciative. :)
After I got back from my Errand of Laundry Mercy, I leashed up Mandy the Dog and we went for a mile-and-a-half walk. I do love how fresh and cool it is early in the morning. Today it was just a little too cool and a bit too fresh for comfort, but still a wonderful way to start the day. Singing meadowlarks are a great incentive to get me out the door for a walk!
After returning from our walk, I hand-watered outside. It is far too breezy today for the running of sprinklers, so hand-watering was the only way to go. I have some wee seedlings bravely pushing out of the ground, from seeds I planted a while back. I also have some new plants I've set out in the past week. Some were from a plant catalog I like- Annie's Annuals. It's such a fun catalog; whimsical and colorful. The plant selection they carry is unique- focusing on California wildflowers, and hard-to-find things like heirloom flower varieties. They like the original form of plants- the sort that still have actual fragrance. I love that! I'm excited to see the new plants from Annie's flourish and bloom.
The other plants are from Bloomer's nursery here in town. Yesterday afternoon, before our Dear Eldest Daughter headed back to college after a nice weekend at home, she and I made a pilgrimage to the nursery. We had so much fun, ambling through the greenhouses and seeing all the expansions and displays. Most of what I chose was for outside pots, but I did buy one small begonia for inside. I have wanted a begonia for so long, and I'm excited to finally have one. :) After returning home with our treasure trove of plantly possibilities, we dug out pots and a bag of potting soil and got to work.
Unfortunately, the bags of planting medium I'd bought, on the advice of a guy at the store that sells it, was not what I should have bought! I had read that Potting Soil and Planting Mix are distinctly different, so I asked for Planting Mix. He told me this would work. If I'd actually read the bag, I would have known better. Sigh. Yet another live-and-learn. This mix was not for potted plants. It specifically says "for in-the-ground planting". It is a mix of shredded wood product and steer manure and some other stuff. I've forgotten the other stuff, because the first two ingredients annoyed me enough to wipe the rest from my mind.
I think they must get their "steer manure" from a dairy! This is not the clean and healthy fragrance of a country field. This stuff has the acrid, penetrating odor of dairy slurry! And, us being us and in a hurry, we did not wear gloves! *regret!!!* We scrubbed and scrubbed our hands, trying to get rid of the odor, but it took several hours for it to dissipate! Dear Daughter tried a strongly-scented hand lotion in her attempts, but that only made it worse. Then she had hands that smelled like fruity-flowery dairy slurry! Oh, how I wished I had stopped to think before we dug into our project!
The shredded wood annoyance didn't last nearly as long as the nasty steer odor, but it was plenty annoying all the same. Somehow, I got two tiiiiny little splinters of wood stuck in the tender arch of my foot! So tiny. So insignificant. And soooo annoying! They were far too small to find and remove, but every time I took a step (in that busy busy afternoon!) I got tiny little stabs in my poor soft foot. Sometimes it is the petty little things that bug me the most!
And last, but not least, I love when my food experiments succeed! I needed to make a vegetarian/gluten-free/dairy-free dish for a potluck last night, to meet the dietary needs of visiting band members (great concert!), so I made Sweet Potato Black Bean Tamales. Actually, they're not sweet potatoes, but what I call yams- the purple skinned deep-orange fleshed variety. Sweet Potato just sounds more appetizing in a recipe title than Yam. I mean, Yam Bean Tamales does not sound nearly as nice, now does it? ;) I had some non-hydrogenated vegetable-based shortening (Spectrum brand) that worked beautifully in place of lard for the masa paste (the cornmeal tamale base). I used the Sweet Potato Black Bean taco filling idea that I tried recently, for the tamale filling. It all came together beautifully. I had the last few for my breakfast today, and they were delicious!
The nap and quiet day have helped. The steer manure smell finally went away. The tamales were wonderful, but now they're gone. The stickery bits of wood finally came out of my poor foot.
One concern remains. Just how bad of an idea was it to use a planting mix with a strong dairy slurry manure odor......for a houseplant?
I find myself extremely tired today. I have been putting in exceedingly long, full, busy days of late, and it really caught up to me this morning. After the busy beginning to my day, I took a solid nap! I rarely do that, but I seemed to be in desperate need of rest. I also rarely have a day that is not thick with commitments, so this was a rare coincidence of need and opportunity! I felt so much better when I got up again.
What was the busy start of my day, you ask? Well, maybe you didn't, but I will tell you anyway. :)
First thing this morning, at about 6:20 am, I drove clean laundry across town to our hardworking son. He's using a bicycle as transport just now, to save on gas money and because his pickup is having serious issues. It's pretty challenging to carry a full laundry basket on a bike, so he wasn't able to take it home yesterday. By the time I got home last night, I was pretty sure he was already asleep. When I called this morning and offered to bring his clean clothes over, he was so thankful. It's nice to do things for someone so thoroughly grateful and appreciative. :)
After I got back from my Errand of Laundry Mercy, I leashed up Mandy the Dog and we went for a mile-and-a-half walk. I do love how fresh and cool it is early in the morning. Today it was just a little too cool and a bit too fresh for comfort, but still a wonderful way to start the day. Singing meadowlarks are a great incentive to get me out the door for a walk!
After returning from our walk, I hand-watered outside. It is far too breezy today for the running of sprinklers, so hand-watering was the only way to go. I have some wee seedlings bravely pushing out of the ground, from seeds I planted a while back. I also have some new plants I've set out in the past week. Some were from a plant catalog I like- Annie's Annuals. It's such a fun catalog; whimsical and colorful. The plant selection they carry is unique- focusing on California wildflowers, and hard-to-find things like heirloom flower varieties. They like the original form of plants- the sort that still have actual fragrance. I love that! I'm excited to see the new plants from Annie's flourish and bloom.
The other plants are from Bloomer's nursery here in town. Yesterday afternoon, before our Dear Eldest Daughter headed back to college after a nice weekend at home, she and I made a pilgrimage to the nursery. We had so much fun, ambling through the greenhouses and seeing all the expansions and displays. Most of what I chose was for outside pots, but I did buy one small begonia for inside. I have wanted a begonia for so long, and I'm excited to finally have one. :) After returning home with our treasure trove of plantly possibilities, we dug out pots and a bag of potting soil and got to work.
Unfortunately, the bags of planting medium I'd bought, on the advice of a guy at the store that sells it, was not what I should have bought! I had read that Potting Soil and Planting Mix are distinctly different, so I asked for Planting Mix. He told me this would work. If I'd actually read the bag, I would have known better. Sigh. Yet another live-and-learn. This mix was not for potted plants. It specifically says "for in-the-ground planting". It is a mix of shredded wood product and steer manure and some other stuff. I've forgotten the other stuff, because the first two ingredients annoyed me enough to wipe the rest from my mind.
I think they must get their "steer manure" from a dairy! This is not the clean and healthy fragrance of a country field. This stuff has the acrid, penetrating odor of dairy slurry! And, us being us and in a hurry, we did not wear gloves! *regret!!!* We scrubbed and scrubbed our hands, trying to get rid of the odor, but it took several hours for it to dissipate! Dear Daughter tried a strongly-scented hand lotion in her attempts, but that only made it worse. Then she had hands that smelled like fruity-flowery dairy slurry! Oh, how I wished I had stopped to think before we dug into our project!
The shredded wood annoyance didn't last nearly as long as the nasty steer odor, but it was plenty annoying all the same. Somehow, I got two tiiiiny little splinters of wood stuck in the tender arch of my foot! So tiny. So insignificant. And soooo annoying! They were far too small to find and remove, but every time I took a step (in that busy busy afternoon!) I got tiny little stabs in my poor soft foot. Sometimes it is the petty little things that bug me the most!
And last, but not least, I love when my food experiments succeed! I needed to make a vegetarian/gluten-free/dairy-free dish for a potluck last night, to meet the dietary needs of visiting band members (great concert!), so I made Sweet Potato Black Bean Tamales. Actually, they're not sweet potatoes, but what I call yams- the purple skinned deep-orange fleshed variety. Sweet Potato just sounds more appetizing in a recipe title than Yam. I mean, Yam Bean Tamales does not sound nearly as nice, now does it? ;) I had some non-hydrogenated vegetable-based shortening (Spectrum brand) that worked beautifully in place of lard for the masa paste (the cornmeal tamale base). I used the Sweet Potato Black Bean taco filling idea that I tried recently, for the tamale filling. It all came together beautifully. I had the last few for my breakfast today, and they were delicious!
The nap and quiet day have helped. The steer manure smell finally went away. The tamales were wonderful, but now they're gone. The stickery bits of wood finally came out of my poor foot.
One concern remains. Just how bad of an idea was it to use a planting mix with a strong dairy slurry manure odor......for a houseplant?
Monday, April 23, 2012
Loved My Dinner!
A few days ago, I became suddenly and utterly booooored with every one of our usual dinner options. The thought of making any of the same-old same-old just makes my skin crawl. As a result, tonight I made a dinner experiment. Sometimes my experiments are met with raves, sometimes they are total failures. Not much middle ground in this world of meal invention.
I started from a concept I'd encountered a couple of different places: Sweet Potato Black Bean Tacos. The title alone is enough to lure me in. Sweet. Potato. Black. Bean. Tacos. I'm already smiling. :)
I put several large yams in the oven to bake. Okay, I know that technically nothing we have here is an actual yam (they grow in Africa, are white-fleshed and can become just huge!), but calling the pale ones 'sweet potatoes' and the orange-fleshed ones 'yams' works for me!
I ended up only using two of the yams, but they were pretty large. I peeled and cubed them, and tossed them into a pan with a little (Spectrum non-hydrogenated palm kernel oil shortening. It is one of the won't-kill-you good fats). I drained and added a can of black beans, as well as a pinch of sea salt, a sprinkle of ground cumin and a bit of chili powder. That's all. I stirred it from time to time as it heated. The baking gave the yams a flavor that was not only sweet, but deep and rich.
Our grocery store had some blue corn-flax seed-wheat tortillas, and they sounded like the perfect complement to my concoction. I added some slices of perfect avocado (a perfect avocado always feels like suddenly discovered treasure), a little shredded mozzarella, sliced black olives, and a bit of sliced tomato.
It was so good!!!
I get meated-out fairly easily, and we've had a pretty meaty few days, so I was loving the meat-free nature of my dinner. The flavor was so rich, and the texture so satisfying that I felt no lack of 'meatiness' at all. So many good nutrients in such a tasty package!
Because some around me do want meat more than I do, I wanted an option for them as well. The store also had some Smoked Andouille Chicken Sausages, which I cubed and heated/browned in a separate pan. My husband added a few bits of sausage to his tacos, and said he liked the combination. They added another level of flavor and just a big of spicy heat, which he likes.
Right away after dinner, I wrote down how I made these, so I will hopefully be able to duplicate the feat another time.
I really love it when an experiment turns out so beautifully, especially on a very busy night when there is no margin for do-overs!
I started from a concept I'd encountered a couple of different places: Sweet Potato Black Bean Tacos. The title alone is enough to lure me in. Sweet. Potato. Black. Bean. Tacos. I'm already smiling. :)
I put several large yams in the oven to bake. Okay, I know that technically nothing we have here is an actual yam (they grow in Africa, are white-fleshed and can become just huge!), but calling the pale ones 'sweet potatoes' and the orange-fleshed ones 'yams' works for me!
I ended up only using two of the yams, but they were pretty large. I peeled and cubed them, and tossed them into a pan with a little (Spectrum non-hydrogenated palm kernel oil shortening. It is one of the won't-kill-you good fats). I drained and added a can of black beans, as well as a pinch of sea salt, a sprinkle of ground cumin and a bit of chili powder. That's all. I stirred it from time to time as it heated. The baking gave the yams a flavor that was not only sweet, but deep and rich.
Our grocery store had some blue corn-flax seed-wheat tortillas, and they sounded like the perfect complement to my concoction. I added some slices of perfect avocado (a perfect avocado always feels like suddenly discovered treasure), a little shredded mozzarella, sliced black olives, and a bit of sliced tomato.
It was so good!!!
I get meated-out fairly easily, and we've had a pretty meaty few days, so I was loving the meat-free nature of my dinner. The flavor was so rich, and the texture so satisfying that I felt no lack of 'meatiness' at all. So many good nutrients in such a tasty package!
Because some around me do want meat more than I do, I wanted an option for them as well. The store also had some Smoked Andouille Chicken Sausages, which I cubed and heated/browned in a separate pan. My husband added a few bits of sausage to his tacos, and said he liked the combination. They added another level of flavor and just a big of spicy heat, which he likes.
Right away after dinner, I wrote down how I made these, so I will hopefully be able to duplicate the feat another time.
I really love it when an experiment turns out so beautifully, especially on a very busy night when there is no margin for do-overs!
Stereotypes vs. Racism
I got called racist the other day. Well, to be more specific, something I said was called racist.
I was pretty taken aback. I thought that was a pretty extreme thing to say to me.
People are so quick to call "racism" today. I think there's an important distinction between racism and stereotypes/assumptions that has been lost.
Here's what happened. We were talking about the paternity of our small puppy, whose mother was chihuahua-dachshund, and whose father was a mystery. As she grows, she looks more and more like our female golden retriever, so we think the father must have been at least part Goldie. When the vet saw the puppy several months ago, she thought the father may have been a Heeler, because of the freckling on the puppy's paws. As we talked about it this weekend, I suddenly wondered if Chihuahuas ever show that kind of freckling. So I turned to a teenage girl who was here, whose family is from Mexico (where Chihuahuas come from originally), and who has stated several times how much she hates Chihuahuas. If someone knows a breed well enough to hate them, they must have spent at least some time around them. Based on this I asked her, "Do chihuahuas ever have that kind of freckling on their feet?" Her eyes got big and she said, "That is so racist!"
If I wanted to know something about lobster, and someone from Maine was sitting there, I would think it logical to ask that person, rather than someone from Wyoming. If I wondered whether hush puppies always have onions in them, and a person from Louisiana was present, I would think it perfectly normal to ask them. If I had a question about camels, and the subject came up in the presence of someone whose family came from North Africa, and who knew camels well enough to have a stated hatred of them, I would not think it odd to ask that person if they knew the answer to my question.
Any of those assumptions may be based in stereotyping, but are far from racist!
I was pretty taken aback. I thought that was a pretty extreme thing to say to me.
People are so quick to call "racism" today. I think there's an important distinction between racism and stereotypes/assumptions that has been lost.
Here's what happened. We were talking about the paternity of our small puppy, whose mother was chihuahua-dachshund, and whose father was a mystery. As she grows, she looks more and more like our female golden retriever, so we think the father must have been at least part Goldie. When the vet saw the puppy several months ago, she thought the father may have been a Heeler, because of the freckling on the puppy's paws. As we talked about it this weekend, I suddenly wondered if Chihuahuas ever show that kind of freckling. So I turned to a teenage girl who was here, whose family is from Mexico (where Chihuahuas come from originally), and who has stated several times how much she hates Chihuahuas. If someone knows a breed well enough to hate them, they must have spent at least some time around them. Based on this I asked her, "Do chihuahuas ever have that kind of freckling on their feet?" Her eyes got big and she said, "That is so racist!"
If I wanted to know something about lobster, and someone from Maine was sitting there, I would think it logical to ask that person, rather than someone from Wyoming. If I wondered whether hush puppies always have onions in them, and a person from Louisiana was present, I would think it perfectly normal to ask them. If I had a question about camels, and the subject came up in the presence of someone whose family came from North Africa, and who knew camels well enough to have a stated hatred of them, I would not think it odd to ask that person if they knew the answer to my question.
Any of those assumptions may be based in stereotyping, but are far from racist!
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Gazing Too Long At The Monster
I think this will be a short one. After plumbing the depths of my thoughts for the last post, I haven't much left, and am in real need of sleep. But I wanted to capture the germ of this idea while I have it.
Picturing a hero from some myth or epic tale. He endures the usual epic quest to reach the monster's lair. He strives with the monster. There is much drama, much suspense, many close calls, and then, just when victory seems certain, when the monster weakens and starts to falter, the hero makes a fatal mistake. He gazes into the face of the monster. He is fixated. Mesmerized. And as he gazes too long, he is transformed into an exact replica of the monster. Tragic ending. Not the kind I like.
Here's the shade of an idea that I got from that phrase, that picture in my head:
What we focus our attention on is what we become.
If we focus our attention on what we are Against, we become consumed with Against-ness. It breeds all sorts of twisted, negative, destructive emotions and tendencies. Like when people decide it's okay to hate a certain group of people, or a cause, or a religion, or an idea. Giving oneself permission to hate anything is a treacherous and slippery slope. I think that any time people give themselves permission to hate, even if the hate is directed at truly terrible things, they are broken, changed, and scarred by letting that hate dwell in them. People on every side of every issue fall into this trap.
If, instead, we focus our attention on what we are For, we are transformed in an entirely different and beautiful way. Focusing on what is positive, healthy, hopeful and good fills us up with all those good things. Like the Bible verse....okay, I'll go look it up so I get it right...
Philippians 4:8..."Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things."
What we think about, what we dwell on, what we fix our thoughts on...that is what we become.
If we gaze too long at the monster, we will become just like the monster.
But if we gaze long and steadily into the face of Beauty, we will be transformed into a reflection of that beauty.
Picturing a hero from some myth or epic tale. He endures the usual epic quest to reach the monster's lair. He strives with the monster. There is much drama, much suspense, many close calls, and then, just when victory seems certain, when the monster weakens and starts to falter, the hero makes a fatal mistake. He gazes into the face of the monster. He is fixated. Mesmerized. And as he gazes too long, he is transformed into an exact replica of the monster. Tragic ending. Not the kind I like.
Here's the shade of an idea that I got from that phrase, that picture in my head:
What we focus our attention on is what we become.
If we focus our attention on what we are Against, we become consumed with Against-ness. It breeds all sorts of twisted, negative, destructive emotions and tendencies. Like when people decide it's okay to hate a certain group of people, or a cause, or a religion, or an idea. Giving oneself permission to hate anything is a treacherous and slippery slope. I think that any time people give themselves permission to hate, even if the hate is directed at truly terrible things, they are broken, changed, and scarred by letting that hate dwell in them. People on every side of every issue fall into this trap.
If, instead, we focus our attention on what we are For, we are transformed in an entirely different and beautiful way. Focusing on what is positive, healthy, hopeful and good fills us up with all those good things. Like the Bible verse....okay, I'll go look it up so I get it right...
Philippians 4:8..."Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable, if anything is excellent or praiseworthy, think about such things."
What we think about, what we dwell on, what we fix our thoughts on...that is what we become.
If we gaze too long at the monster, we will become just like the monster.
But if we gaze long and steadily into the face of Beauty, we will be transformed into a reflection of that beauty.
Stepford Wives to Labor Unions: Becoming the Dragons We Set Out to Slay
Okay, so this is a theory I have sort of swirling around in my head and I'm going to try to articulate it. I got to thinking about it after re-watching the newer version of the Stepford Wives movie the other day.
According to my understanding, labor unions began as a way for employees to address some truly terrible conditions. Business owners kept a heavy hand on their employees, controlling them with bullying, threats and sometimes violence. Anyone who spoke up often paid a heavy price. In the early days, when labor organizers traveled around, trying to educate workers about the possibilities they could have with unions to represent them, things got very ugly and bloody.
These days, it seems as if the labor unions themselves, at least some of them, have become the evil they set out to defeat. Their tactics closely resemble the ugliness, the threats and bullying, the suffocating control, and even the violence that were once used against them and those they represent.
I've thought about this ever since I saw a documentary on the early days of union organization a few years ago. It is sad and ironic that what began as a noble effort to protect, defend, and represent the persecuted and abused has bloated into the mirror image of the persecutor, the bully, the heavy hand.
And how exactly does the Stepford Wives movie tie in with these ponderings? As I watched it, I began to see a parallel in the swing of women's roles. Just as the movie deals in pretty broad stereotypes, the germ of an idea that I had while watching it also springs from generalizations and stereotypes.
When I picture the Business Man, the Professional Man of earlier days, before Women's Lib, I think of a man in a suit...a dark, conservative suit...setting out for his important day of work. He is fond of his family, but he can't really be bothered with their activities or demands. He has More Important Things on his mind. His career is the highest priority in his life. He is driven, focused....and unavailable.
The wife in this picture looks something like Mrs. Cleaver, or Donna Reed. She is feminine, nicely groomed, and patient, tending to the many needs of her family in a dress, heels, and a pearl bead necklace. She does everything for everone. She adapts, compromises, and doesn't ask for anything for herself. She is there to have a nice dinner ready for the Man when he comes home, to hand him the paper and his pipe, so he can relax while she goes on doing everything for everyone. If she ever voices a complaint, the Business Man is kind, but in a condescending, patronizing way, and she ends up apologizing for being Such a Silly and fussing over nothing.
Then there came a change. Women wanted more. They wanted also to do More Important Things. They wanted to have a Chance, to see what might be out there for them. They became Career Women. They became hard-driving, respected professionals.These Career Women fought hard for every opportunity, every chance to prove themselves. Often, they had to work twice as hard to prove they were every bit as good as a man. And in time, many of them became the very image of that old Business Man. They wore dark colored, serious, conservative business suits. They were told that Motherhood was a sign of weakness, that it had no place in the work world. They were told to remember that they had More Important Things to do. In order to make it in the professional world, they became driven, focused, and unavailable.
As I watched the movie, I thought of my old thoughts on labor unions, and I saw an interesting parallel. The working woman became the dragon she set out to slay. She became the very things that drove her out of the house in the first place. In order to succeed in Business Man's world, she was forced to become just like him.
In Stepford, all the wives used to be big-shots in their fields of work- executives, judges, famous authors. They were successful, forceful, driven. They weren't warm, or affectionate, or available to their families. Their husbands felt overshadowed, neglected, extraneous, resentful. They felt completely outdone by these Career Women, these Superwomen. And so the Superwomen were transformed into ultra-feminine, empty-headed, subservient robots.
There's also the whole angle of how it's not enough to be a successful career woman, but you also have to be super-mom-woman too, producing overachieving super-children. And the other facet- the disrespect of women who choose child-raising as their career. There's a lot of public lip-service to "Mom- the toughest job ever," but those who are Just a Mom, and not Career Woman plus Supermom, still encounter disdain for their choices.
I feel like I should tie this up in a neat conclusion, but I'm suddenly tired and my thoughts have frayed into the wind.
Labor Unions: set out to fight corruption, cruelty and persecution. Became corrupt, cruel persecutors.
Career Women: tired of being the drudge, dealing with it all without help from Distant, Driven, Cold, Unavailable Business man. Wanted a career of her own. Became Hard, Driven, Cold, Unavailable, Exhausted Career Woman. [And usually expected to be UberPerfectionSuperMom on top of it all- sort of a twisted mix of Career Woman and Stepford Wife!]
They became the dragon. Surely there is some mythological story out there of a hero who gazed too long at the monster he set out to slay, and was transformed into the monster himself. It's the danger of gazing too long at the monster; the hazard of the pendulum that swings too far the other way.
I suppose there is a moral, beyond the fact that these transformations interest me.
Hmmm....Gazing Too Long At The Monster. Sounds like the title for another post. ;D
According to my understanding, labor unions began as a way for employees to address some truly terrible conditions. Business owners kept a heavy hand on their employees, controlling them with bullying, threats and sometimes violence. Anyone who spoke up often paid a heavy price. In the early days, when labor organizers traveled around, trying to educate workers about the possibilities they could have with unions to represent them, things got very ugly and bloody.
These days, it seems as if the labor unions themselves, at least some of them, have become the evil they set out to defeat. Their tactics closely resemble the ugliness, the threats and bullying, the suffocating control, and even the violence that were once used against them and those they represent.
I've thought about this ever since I saw a documentary on the early days of union organization a few years ago. It is sad and ironic that what began as a noble effort to protect, defend, and represent the persecuted and abused has bloated into the mirror image of the persecutor, the bully, the heavy hand.
And how exactly does the Stepford Wives movie tie in with these ponderings? As I watched it, I began to see a parallel in the swing of women's roles. Just as the movie deals in pretty broad stereotypes, the germ of an idea that I had while watching it also springs from generalizations and stereotypes.
When I picture the Business Man, the Professional Man of earlier days, before Women's Lib, I think of a man in a suit...a dark, conservative suit...setting out for his important day of work. He is fond of his family, but he can't really be bothered with their activities or demands. He has More Important Things on his mind. His career is the highest priority in his life. He is driven, focused....and unavailable.
The wife in this picture looks something like Mrs. Cleaver, or Donna Reed. She is feminine, nicely groomed, and patient, tending to the many needs of her family in a dress, heels, and a pearl bead necklace. She does everything for everone. She adapts, compromises, and doesn't ask for anything for herself. She is there to have a nice dinner ready for the Man when he comes home, to hand him the paper and his pipe, so he can relax while she goes on doing everything for everyone. If she ever voices a complaint, the Business Man is kind, but in a condescending, patronizing way, and she ends up apologizing for being Such a Silly and fussing over nothing.
Then there came a change. Women wanted more. They wanted also to do More Important Things. They wanted to have a Chance, to see what might be out there for them. They became Career Women. They became hard-driving, respected professionals.These Career Women fought hard for every opportunity, every chance to prove themselves. Often, they had to work twice as hard to prove they were every bit as good as a man. And in time, many of them became the very image of that old Business Man. They wore dark colored, serious, conservative business suits. They were told that Motherhood was a sign of weakness, that it had no place in the work world. They were told to remember that they had More Important Things to do. In order to make it in the professional world, they became driven, focused, and unavailable.
As I watched the movie, I thought of my old thoughts on labor unions, and I saw an interesting parallel. The working woman became the dragon she set out to slay. She became the very things that drove her out of the house in the first place. In order to succeed in Business Man's world, she was forced to become just like him.
In Stepford, all the wives used to be big-shots in their fields of work- executives, judges, famous authors. They were successful, forceful, driven. They weren't warm, or affectionate, or available to their families. Their husbands felt overshadowed, neglected, extraneous, resentful. They felt completely outdone by these Career Women, these Superwomen. And so the Superwomen were transformed into ultra-feminine, empty-headed, subservient robots.
There's also the whole angle of how it's not enough to be a successful career woman, but you also have to be super-mom-woman too, producing overachieving super-children. And the other facet- the disrespect of women who choose child-raising as their career. There's a lot of public lip-service to "Mom- the toughest job ever," but those who are Just a Mom, and not Career Woman plus Supermom, still encounter disdain for their choices.
I feel like I should tie this up in a neat conclusion, but I'm suddenly tired and my thoughts have frayed into the wind.
Labor Unions: set out to fight corruption, cruelty and persecution. Became corrupt, cruel persecutors.
Career Women: tired of being the drudge, dealing with it all without help from Distant, Driven, Cold, Unavailable Business man. Wanted a career of her own. Became Hard, Driven, Cold, Unavailable, Exhausted Career Woman. [And usually expected to be UberPerfectionSuperMom on top of it all- sort of a twisted mix of Career Woman and Stepford Wife!]
They became the dragon. Surely there is some mythological story out there of a hero who gazed too long at the monster he set out to slay, and was transformed into the monster himself. It's the danger of gazing too long at the monster; the hazard of the pendulum that swings too far the other way.
I suppose there is a moral, beyond the fact that these transformations interest me.
Hmmm....Gazing Too Long At The Monster. Sounds like the title for another post. ;D
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Not Stuck On Band-Aid. Band-Aid Hates Me!
Seriously. This is ridiculous!
Last Thursday, I had a funky mole excised from my leg. It was being weird, and our doctor agreed it should probably not get to stay a part of me. I'm not stressed about this. Our family has had so many funky things taken off and tested, I realize I've just gotten used to it. Last time, by the time they called with the biopsy results, I'd completely forgotten about the whole thing. But this is not my point.
After they excised the mole, they put one of those large band-aids over the area, and I went on my way. The next morning I changed the bandage, put on a fresh large band-aid, and headed out on my busy day. Dear Youngest Daughter and I made a nice early start, and headed for Medford. It was a long, busy, fun day-the four-hour drive to Medford, walking around and shopping, the drive back to Klamath, more shopping, then the drive home. As the day progressed, I was in more and more pain from the stitches, or so I thought. We got home at 6:30 pm, and both had places to be right then, so we were in a bit of a hurry. I noticed that my incision had bled, so I thought I'd give it a fresh cover before we rushed off for the rest of our evening. Being in a hurry, I ripped the bandage off...
Oh, was that ever a bad idea!!! Apparently, with all of the sitting, driving, and walking of the day, the four corners of the band-aid had really adhered to my skin. When I ripped it off, each corner took a chunk of my skin with it. OWWW!!! I didn't have time to do much about it just then, so I put on another band-aid to protect the stitches, but rotated ninety degrees so as to leave the torn bits alone. We took off for our next events, and were gone for another couple of hours. By that time, I was in rather a lot of discomfort. It really stings to have strips of skin torn off!
By the next afternoon, it all just hurt, so I had our Dear Eldest Daughter, home from college for Easter, help me. That whole part of my leg was traumatized by that point, by adhesives. What wasn't held together with stitches or torn by the band-aid was irritated and sore where the other bandages had been stuck. We tried to improvise a covering that would not involve more band-aids. Our genius plan involved a large gauze pad, with Coban wrapped all around my leg to hold it on. It was a great idea. It failed. Every time I walked, the whole thing would slip and bunch up, which was not only uncomfortable but truly ineffective. I decided that the nice fabric band-aids that really stick were no longer a good idea, and switched to the wimpy plastic ones that I usually hate. If I use them on a cut finger, they fall off in a very short time, which is just irritating. Dear Eldest Daughter was so helpful. In the end, we put a small band-aid over the stitches, and over each torn place. It was tricky to place each one so that it covered the sore bit, but wasn't stuck over another sore bit, but we did it. This was Saturday.
Today is Wednesday. Over the past three days, I have gone through varying degrees of discomfort. Sometimes it's all pretty okay. At others, it just starts to burn. By yesterday, I was only covering the stitches, and the most affected torn bits with small band-aids. Last night, it was all just burning and stinging, so when I got home at the end of the evening, I took off the wimpy little plastic band-aids...and they had created new sores! ...sigh... I must really have a reaction to something in the band-aids. I did have a reaction to the adhesive patches back when I wore a heart monitor a couple of years ago. By the time that week was over, I looked like I'd been attacked by an giant, acid-oozing octopus!
By last night, what started as an inch-long incision had become an area about four by six inches, with several wounds from band-aid damage, and with all the other skin irritated and sore from adhesive reaction. Though I was trying to protect my stitches from friction damage, the band-aids themselves have become a larger problem! It is just a mess!
So now, I have resorted to the CuddlDuds bandage....a.k.a. longjohns- smoother and less abrasive than Levis! Since there is apparently no form of band-aid in the house that doesn't cause larger problems, I am reduced to healing salve and long johns. I've just been to the store in search of latex-free band-aids, hoping that would solve my little dilemma, but they don't have a single one. I'll try the drugstore later, when they're open.
Things about which I have not gone into unnecessary detail: things like seeping, and torn-off scabs during the night, and the effect of pantyhose when skin has been torn off. Wasn't that thoughtful of me? ;)
What started as a minor incision with stitches now looks like I was attacked with claws, sandpaper and acid.
So, far from being anxious about a phone call with biopsy results, I have instead spent almost six days suffering increasing levels of pain and frustration from....band-aids! They seem so helpful and innocent, don't they? But then they turn to the Dark Side, and the nightmare begins.
Last Thursday, I had a funky mole excised from my leg. It was being weird, and our doctor agreed it should probably not get to stay a part of me. I'm not stressed about this. Our family has had so many funky things taken off and tested, I realize I've just gotten used to it. Last time, by the time they called with the biopsy results, I'd completely forgotten about the whole thing. But this is not my point.
After they excised the mole, they put one of those large band-aids over the area, and I went on my way. The next morning I changed the bandage, put on a fresh large band-aid, and headed out on my busy day. Dear Youngest Daughter and I made a nice early start, and headed for Medford. It was a long, busy, fun day-the four-hour drive to Medford, walking around and shopping, the drive back to Klamath, more shopping, then the drive home. As the day progressed, I was in more and more pain from the stitches, or so I thought. We got home at 6:30 pm, and both had places to be right then, so we were in a bit of a hurry. I noticed that my incision had bled, so I thought I'd give it a fresh cover before we rushed off for the rest of our evening. Being in a hurry, I ripped the bandage off...
Oh, was that ever a bad idea!!! Apparently, with all of the sitting, driving, and walking of the day, the four corners of the band-aid had really adhered to my skin. When I ripped it off, each corner took a chunk of my skin with it. OWWW!!! I didn't have time to do much about it just then, so I put on another band-aid to protect the stitches, but rotated ninety degrees so as to leave the torn bits alone. We took off for our next events, and were gone for another couple of hours. By that time, I was in rather a lot of discomfort. It really stings to have strips of skin torn off!
By the next afternoon, it all just hurt, so I had our Dear Eldest Daughter, home from college for Easter, help me. That whole part of my leg was traumatized by that point, by adhesives. What wasn't held together with stitches or torn by the band-aid was irritated and sore where the other bandages had been stuck. We tried to improvise a covering that would not involve more band-aids. Our genius plan involved a large gauze pad, with Coban wrapped all around my leg to hold it on. It was a great idea. It failed. Every time I walked, the whole thing would slip and bunch up, which was not only uncomfortable but truly ineffective. I decided that the nice fabric band-aids that really stick were no longer a good idea, and switched to the wimpy plastic ones that I usually hate. If I use them on a cut finger, they fall off in a very short time, which is just irritating. Dear Eldest Daughter was so helpful. In the end, we put a small band-aid over the stitches, and over each torn place. It was tricky to place each one so that it covered the sore bit, but wasn't stuck over another sore bit, but we did it. This was Saturday.
Today is Wednesday. Over the past three days, I have gone through varying degrees of discomfort. Sometimes it's all pretty okay. At others, it just starts to burn. By yesterday, I was only covering the stitches, and the most affected torn bits with small band-aids. Last night, it was all just burning and stinging, so when I got home at the end of the evening, I took off the wimpy little plastic band-aids...and they had created new sores! ...sigh... I must really have a reaction to something in the band-aids. I did have a reaction to the adhesive patches back when I wore a heart monitor a couple of years ago. By the time that week was over, I looked like I'd been attacked by an giant, acid-oozing octopus!
By last night, what started as an inch-long incision had become an area about four by six inches, with several wounds from band-aid damage, and with all the other skin irritated and sore from adhesive reaction. Though I was trying to protect my stitches from friction damage, the band-aids themselves have become a larger problem! It is just a mess!
So now, I have resorted to the CuddlDuds bandage....a.k.a. longjohns- smoother and less abrasive than Levis! Since there is apparently no form of band-aid in the house that doesn't cause larger problems, I am reduced to healing salve and long johns. I've just been to the store in search of latex-free band-aids, hoping that would solve my little dilemma, but they don't have a single one. I'll try the drugstore later, when they're open.
Things about which I have not gone into unnecessary detail: things like seeping, and torn-off scabs during the night, and the effect of pantyhose when skin has been torn off. Wasn't that thoughtful of me? ;)
What started as a minor incision with stitches now looks like I was attacked with claws, sandpaper and acid.
So, far from being anxious about a phone call with biopsy results, I have instead spent almost six days suffering increasing levels of pain and frustration from....band-aids! They seem so helpful and innocent, don't they? But then they turn to the Dark Side, and the nightmare begins.
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Heartlifters
Two Sandhill Cranes browsing in a field at dusk.
Clusters of bright yellow crocus bursting into bloom- that splash of color so welcome after the long winter!
Two meadowlarks have a singing contest as I walked this early morning- their song is one of my favorite sounds in the world. It feels like a special privilege every time I hear it.
The sound system in the new car! Big loud bass is truly like therapy for me. It unwinds my mind and relaxes me. I had it turned up so loud this evening that the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was dancing along! Love love love it!
The joyous greeting I get from the big dog and the little dog, every single time I walk through the door! So sweet.
Clusters of bright yellow crocus bursting into bloom- that splash of color so welcome after the long winter!
Two meadowlarks have a singing contest as I walked this early morning- their song is one of my favorite sounds in the world. It feels like a special privilege every time I hear it.
The sound system in the new car! Big loud bass is truly like therapy for me. It unwinds my mind and relaxes me. I had it turned up so loud this evening that the air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror was dancing along! Love love love it!
The joyous greeting I get from the big dog and the little dog, every single time I walk through the door! So sweet.
Monday, April 2, 2012
I Love When Healthy Things Make My Mouth Happy!
Such yummy things I ate today!
For a snack this afternoon, I make a smash of avocado, black olives, olive oil, sea salt, and a bit of pepper, then spread it on a brown-rice rice-cake. So good! It was kind of like a raw, garlic-free, healthy tappenade/bruschetta-topping sort of thing. All of those lovely pre-made tappenades and such tend to have garlic (kind of a basic with Italian foods!), which rules them out of my diet. They've been catching my eye at the grocery store recently, so I needed to find an alternative that I could have with no unpleasant consequences. When I used to get fascinated with an "off-limits" food, or get a specific craving, I would just go ahead and eat that food, because I knew that if I didn't, the thing would not leave me alone! Some of the hardest struggles for me have been lasagna and fettucine alfredo. I went through some hard years over those!
Now, I try to find an alternative that will kick the fascination/craving, but with no consequences for my health and well-being.
...And for dinner, I had chicken bits with pesto over spaghetti squash. It was an experiment, and it turned out sooo well! I made gluten-free brown-rice spaghetti for the family, but as I'm cutting back on starches again (like I've been supposed to all along!), I went with my favorite pasta alternative- baked spaghetti squash. I wasn't sure just how to do the chicken. I had chicken breasts, from healthfully raised chickens, but I wasn't sure just how I wanted to incorporate them into my idea. In the end, I cut them into bite-sized pieces, and sauteed them in some olive oil, with a sprinkle of sea salt and black pepper. Toward the end, I added a few leaves of the fresh basil, to give it some flavor. I was concerned it might be bland, but when combined with the pesto, it was savory and wonderful. The pesto was homemade by necessity, as regular pesto has garlic and parmesan cheese, both of which are on our better-not-to-eat-it list. I used fresh basil, a little olive oil, pine nuts, some freshly squeezed lemon juice, and just a tiny sprink of sea salt. It tasted so fresh and tangy and delicious!
It makes me so happy when I can come up with an acceptably healthy, allergen-free alternative that is so good I don't miss the "real" thing! And I really love when healthy food makes my mouth so happy that all the sugary stuff doesn't even sound good- like it would be a really big buzz-kill for the healthy tasty happy-dance my mouth is doing. :)
For a snack this afternoon, I make a smash of avocado, black olives, olive oil, sea salt, and a bit of pepper, then spread it on a brown-rice rice-cake. So good! It was kind of like a raw, garlic-free, healthy tappenade/bruschetta-topping sort of thing. All of those lovely pre-made tappenades and such tend to have garlic (kind of a basic with Italian foods!), which rules them out of my diet. They've been catching my eye at the grocery store recently, so I needed to find an alternative that I could have with no unpleasant consequences. When I used to get fascinated with an "off-limits" food, or get a specific craving, I would just go ahead and eat that food, because I knew that if I didn't, the thing would not leave me alone! Some of the hardest struggles for me have been lasagna and fettucine alfredo. I went through some hard years over those!
Now, I try to find an alternative that will kick the fascination/craving, but with no consequences for my health and well-being.
...And for dinner, I had chicken bits with pesto over spaghetti squash. It was an experiment, and it turned out sooo well! I made gluten-free brown-rice spaghetti for the family, but as I'm cutting back on starches again (like I've been supposed to all along!), I went with my favorite pasta alternative- baked spaghetti squash. I wasn't sure just how to do the chicken. I had chicken breasts, from healthfully raised chickens, but I wasn't sure just how I wanted to incorporate them into my idea. In the end, I cut them into bite-sized pieces, and sauteed them in some olive oil, with a sprinkle of sea salt and black pepper. Toward the end, I added a few leaves of the fresh basil, to give it some flavor. I was concerned it might be bland, but when combined with the pesto, it was savory and wonderful. The pesto was homemade by necessity, as regular pesto has garlic and parmesan cheese, both of which are on our better-not-to-eat-it list. I used fresh basil, a little olive oil, pine nuts, some freshly squeezed lemon juice, and just a tiny sprink of sea salt. It tasted so fresh and tangy and delicious!
It makes me so happy when I can come up with an acceptably healthy, allergen-free alternative that is so good I don't miss the "real" thing! And I really love when healthy food makes my mouth so happy that all the sugary stuff doesn't even sound good- like it would be a really big buzz-kill for the healthy tasty happy-dance my mouth is doing. :)
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Even In The Valley Of The Shadow
I heard someone say to my friends, "God chose to give your daughter a brain tumor, because He knew your faith was strong enough to handle that"...and it made me furious! What a hideous thing to say! So hurtful, and so completely untrue. The Bible says "Don't be deceived, my dear brothers. Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:16-17. I believe to the roots of my being that God does not give fatal accidents or terminal diseases. He is the author of perfection. The Fruit of the Spirit, the evidence of His presence, is Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, and Self-Control. The evidence of His presence is not death, destruction, and heart-broken grief. "All things work together for good"...does not mean that everything that happens, no matter how terrible, is something God thought would be a good idea. It means that, no matter what happens in our lives, God will still be working in our lives for our good, and for His good purposes. It does not mean that terrible, heartbreaking things are some sort of twisted gift that God thinks will be good for us! I do not believe that God chooses death, destruction and disease, anymore than I would believe He was behind the actions of Adolf Hitler or Jeffrey Dahmer. We live in a broken world, where disease is more and more common, and where people do terrible things to one another. I saw a video clip the other day of a blind, autistic boy who sings beautiful praise to God. Someone made a comment about God afflicting this boy to show His glory. What a slander against God's character. This boy's mother was on heavy drugs when she was pregnant. God did not afflict this child- his mother did! One of my very favorite incidents in the Bible is when Jesus wept with His friends over the death of their brother. The thing that I love about it is that when He stopped to grieve with Mary and Martha, He was actually on His way to raise their brother Lazarus from the dead...He knew that in just a short time, He would be presenting His friends with their brother resurrected and whole...but He had such compassion for their grief that He stopped to weep with them. This is an important part of my picture of God's character. He knew their grief would soon be turned into joy, but He did not dismiss their grief- he shared it. God is holy, and His defining characteristic is Love. He does not cause evil, or ugliness, or death, or destruction. He has deep compassion for our pain. He weeps with us. He promised that, no matter what happens, He will never leave us or forsake us. His love for us is unshakeable. He grieves over the ugly brokenness of our world. He wept with his friends. He wept over His hardhearted children in Jerusalem. The tears of the Son of God are a powerful testament to the tender, compassionate love He has for each of us. He will walk with us, weep with us, carry us, and help us through even the worst of times, even in the valley of the shadow of death. He will still work for good in our lives, work for His good purposes, no matter what happens. But He never causes evil to happen. He gives us hope when there is no hope, and peace that makes no sense- that is beyond human understanding, and joy in the midst of pain. His gifts are always good, and His love has no end.
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