Not fully in the "mode"

So much is happening.  I've made dinner a handful of nights for a handful of friends and my boy, all undocumented.  I'm shuffling through 2/3 PT job schedules.  I'm trying to help Silver Lake Farms grow and expand as a business and I'm learning how to be an organic gardener in the process.  I'm making new friends with co-workers and having drinks with old friends.  I'm trying to get back to my yoga - because it really does make me feel more balanced. 

AND we're sort of in "wedding planning mode".  I say sort of because we had a plan and that plan was too expensive and the people we wanted to work with didn't want a wedding (we don't think) on their property.  This hurdle has sort of put us back at the beginning.

SIDE NOTE: when I was, 12-14 (somewhere in there) we did an original musical at summer camp and one of the songs went "Be-gin at the begin-ning, muddle through the mid-dle and when it's oooooover, STOP." and every time I think of planning my wedding, I sing this lyric in my head.  Nerd stuff...I know...but authentic.  Rory has said over and over, and I think it's true, that this is probably a blessing in disguise, that we'll probably plan a more awesome wedding than the one we had initially were thinking about...we just have to start planning. So, as part of my August goals I plan to get the ball rolling in whatever direction I can.  And, I have to remember to check on that dress I like, it could be on its way out.

I was reading the site apracticalwedding.com (also have the book that I am reading) and there was a post about a "people pleaser" planning a wedding - all too accurate to my life - and she said something at the end of her post that is easing my nerves and tensions so, I thought I would share with you:

"Recently, I was feeling guilty about missing my family and friends spread out all across the country (warning: this is wedding side-effect). To make me feel better, my very wise husband said: “Ultimately, everybody just does their own thing.” He’s right of course, and that’s how we approached our wedding. Sometimes it’s okay to be different. Sometimes it’s okay not to please everyone. Sometimes it’s okay to let your passion outweigh your practical urges. Because weddings and marriage should never be about taking one for the team. They’re about creating a new team with your partner, where you’ll never feel like you have to."

So, it's ok to take my time and do it how we want to do it. :)


We'll get there.

Here's some of the things that are inspiring me.

kitchen aid mixin'

We all knew I was going to have a love affair w. my kitchen aid...it officially began today.  I made a load of bread...and began making cookies.  I said when I turned the bread out of the bowl after it being kneaded with a bread hook for 10 minutes...this is the softest bread dough I have ever touched and it was. Seriously.  I've also never seen sponge-y holes in the dough like I did tonight.  Perhaps I haven't perfected my bread recipe skills, but this is certainly an improvement. :)

brain operations

My brain works in an interesting way.  I guess all of ours do... I've been traveling for the last three weeks; touring with Rory, going to Bonnaroo, seeing the Wall for the last time, seeing college friends, and finally going to NYC for the first time in a year and a half for a wedding.  It was a very emotionally heavy trip, especially that last part...I had many expectations of what it would be like to be back, some were met, some were not.  What I did take away from the trip was that New York isn't my home anymore, it's a place that holds fond memories, growth and a lot of potential.  LA is my home now and being away from it made me aware that I do take comfort in that. I may not be fully rooted yet, but things are shifting and settling in.

One thing I am very glad I got to do a lot of was cook and sit around a table with a handful of very important people.  We laughed, cried, drank and ate. It was fabulous.  It reinforces the fact that sitting around the table sharing a meal with people I love is where I find my community. It's where I experience great joy with the most important people in my life. 

I'm currently on a plane, eager to get back to LA, and these thoughts came out of my mouth: "the key to  a roast chicken is to cut through the bone after it's cooked a little cooled." I mean, duh, right?  AND, "how can I make that curry rice pilaf with out using the box mix...what seasoning should I use...I think Rory would like it."  OR "I bet I could make a whole meal out of orzo, fresh parsley, tomatoes and some shredded gruyere or parm."  I'm excited to go home and set my table again, work in my kitchen, re-establish myself in MY home. 

What makes for a "home" moment for you?

travel

I've been on the road for most of June, in fact, I'm still out there.  I have made peach raspberry preserves (I'll show you the pictures when I have the camera back!), a pot roast (it was ok, I used sake instead of white wine and it was a little weird), and I used my kitchen aid to make biscuits.  You don't need a kitchen aid to make biscuits...you need your hands.  Once I'm back and settled, I am going to embark on a healthy baking kick...is that an oxy moron?  I want to use this kitchen aid!  Bread...here I come, I'm gonna let the dough hook do the kneading for me. :)

How's your summer?

lookie lookie

Say hello to my little friend....

something is coming

That's going to change my life and how I operate in my kitchen. I. Cannot. Wait.

My fiance is awesome.

Can't wait to share!

a moment in time

One of my best, best friends, Jeff reads my blog from time-to-time...he happened to read the post about the car accident I watched last week which reminded him of a moment he expereienced in Cleveland a few years ago and was inspired to write a poem.  I wanted to share it with you because I was moved and touched by it.  I was in his shoes by the end of the poem, doing in my brain what he actually did in person.  It's sad and chilling but sometimes those things form a moment of beauty and I think he captured it really well.  He is an unbelievably generous guy who's emotional life is always very present, I've always admired him for these attributes.  Enjoy. (The formatting is a little off from his original b.c of the copy and past from document to blog, but you get the idea.)

I didn't know him personally, but we breathed the same air  - Jeffrey A. Wisniewski

My neighbor killed himself yesterday.
I didn't know him personally.  Only his unyielding face.
Only his stride while walking each of his three dogs.
One at a time.  Methodical movement.
Every morning, every afternoon.
Gray t-shirt, blue jeans, white worn sneakers.
Green winter jacket, blue jeans, white worn sneakers.
Methodical movement.  Gray hair.
His routine became part of mine, but
I didn't realize that until yesterday.
We would make eye contact as I drove past.
Me, smiling and nodding hello.
Him, staring through me with unforgiving eyes.
I thought it was me.  Smiling at him.  Nodding hello.

His wife was always the more personable one.
She talked in passing
about the cheap breakfast diner just a walk away.
She offered me the shot of Jack Daniels
when I locked myself out of my running car, 10:30pm one snowy night.
When he answered the door, he looked bothered.
I thought it was me.  Knocking on the door.  Asking for help.

But no.  There was an internal dialogue I would never be part of -
a dialogue that ended yesterday.
An unyielding argument.  Unforgiving.
He had lost.  He had lost
in his fighting attempt to simply stay afloat.

I was the one who called 911.
She stood in the driveway as I pulled around the corner,
"Call 911."
It was barely a whisper.
Her enigmatic face still in my mind,
the desperate crack of her voice still in my ear.
"Call 911."
Those words had never been spoken to me before.
My thougths unsure of how to process the request.
Confusion.  Disorientation.
Her eyes hollow and lost.  Void, yet boiling over.

I stood in the street with my phone to my ear
looking for their address, as she ran into the garage.
Their car was in the garage.  He was in the car.
She screamed, hitting the glass, ordering him to wake up.
Then I saw her change.
I saw her see the truth.
He was gone.  Her husband was dead.

Fire and EMS were still on their way.
What do you do?  Tell them not to come?
Because I knew.  She knew.  We'd both seen the truth.
Moving stillness.  Loud silence.
Sirens from several directions.
Other neighbors arrived, faces I had never seen.
They heard the screams.
We circled around her, still keeping our space.  Not
intentionally making her the uncomfortable focus, but still,
we circled her.  What do you do?  What do you say?
Her pain's cloud engulfed her.
I felt her fear.  I saw her unknown.
She was lost not knowing where to turn.

I made my choice then; I hugged her.
I needed her and she needed me.
We were just scared.  We were just human -
and, in that moment, we were just together.
They circled us then.  She was not alone anymore.
"I'm so sorry.  I'm just so sorry."
I opened my heart.  I took her weight.
Her cloud included me then.
I breathed with her, held her, squeezed her shoulders close.
Her sobs muffled, hidden against my coat.
I ran my hand over her head with the cordless phone awkwardly propped between us.

I barely knew her, but we breathed the same air.

That moment was imperfect.

That moment was life.

Our breath was real.