I made a playlist today before I headed home from the public market on my bike, and I'm really loving it. Lots of strong female singer/songwriters, a little bit of angst and a lot of whimsy, joy and playfulness, perfect for a spring mix.
"SPRING MIX"
Wagon Wheel - Old Crow Medicine Show
Kids - MGMT
World Spins Madly On - The Weepies
Hometown Glory - Adele
Mariachi - Ani Difranco
Malo - Bebe
Home - Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeros
Half Acre - Hem
Not Your Year - The Weepies
Keep Breathing - Ingrid Michaelson
Fuck Was I - Jenny Owens Young
Life Boat - Ani Difranco
Where Does the Good Go - Tegan and Sara
Sweet Disposition - The Temper Trap
Gotta Have You - The Weepies
Albacore - Ani Difranco
Bitter Heart - Zee Avi
Slow Pony Home - The Weepies
If you want the abridged version, listen to "Mariachi", "Fuck Was I", "Home" and "Sweet Disposition". :)
I have found a lot of joy from going to the public market alone on Saturday mornings. I used to give Adam a hard time about not going with me (he hates crowds) but I have truly enjoyed the solitude I find in being surrounded by hundreds of people but having my own agenda and being in my own head. I hop on my bike, listen to a couple songs or a quick podcast on my way to the market, lock up, and head to the coffee shop. My drink choices vary--today it was an americano, last time it was a soy cappuccino. The place I go actually has terrible espresso, so I'm considering going to the other shop next time. We'll see. Anyway, I sit with my coffee, reading some blogs or making my shopping list. Although I often enjoy walking around with a hot drink, like when I go to work on the bus, but at the market, I prefer to just sit and finish my drink before shopping. It's a good time to people-watch, relax and soak in the morning sunshine.
After I finish my coffee, I head to the Flour City Bread Company and pick up a loaf or two of their artisan bread. I'm loving their foccacia, which is drenched in oil and salt. You don't even need to dip it in olive oil--just drizzle with some balsamic and eat freshly sliced.
From the bread shop, I head to the crowds and pick up a few veggies. Today I found some great looking Asian eggplants, some dandelion greens (I know, I can pick them out of my backyard, but I have to support the little old lady selling them--more power to her). I also grabbed a 1/2 lb of decaf Guatemalan coffee, 2 portobello mushrooms and some avocados. I have a lot of produce left over from last week, so today was just a spiritual practice in marketing.
The last time I was in the Dominican Republic, my coworker's husband was driving me to the airport and asked me what I like to do for fun at home. The first thing that popped into my mind was going to the market, next was cooking. Especially when I am traveling over the weekend, I miss the routine of preparing good, wholesome and homemade food for myself and for Adam. I crave it. Lately I've been realizing I spend a ridiculous amount of money on food, but I justify it by the fact that I don't have a motor vehicle and therefore can afford to treat myself to delicious foods. And the fact that instead of driving, I bike, it makes sense that I spend my money on "fuel". Ha!
Finally, today is somewhat bittersweet, as I think about the blessings I have and some of the hardships I know some are enduring, but I take comfort knowing that the love we have for each other sustains us even when we are not in constant contact. I feel the love of my friends when they are thousands of miles away, and hope they feel my love as well.
"So it goes, so no one knows you like they used to do. Have a drink, the sky is sinking toward a deeper blue, and you're still alright. Step out in the twilight."
Living in Twilight - The Weepies
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
Travel tips
I'm on a plane to Houston right now and I just finished a delicious (and healthy!) snack. I'll be in Texas for the rest of the week and, although I can charge my meals to my grant, sometimes I prefer to bring what I can from home so that a) I'm never starving with no vegan food options in sight and b) I'm not tempted to go overboard on the "healthy" things I can find at airports (like a bottle of pomegranate juice with 62 grams of sugar--sorry, not healthy).
Inspired by Heidi Swanson's gourmet plane food suggestions, I decided to bring along some snacks that can pass through security and that I actually want to eat. I didn't really do a lot of planning for this, but here's what I came up with:
Two days ago, I stopped by our natural food co-op and resolved to avoid the very sugary Lara, Luna and Clif bars. I picked up some raw walnuts and Turkish figs instead. I mixed together enough for a handful (1/4 cup) of walnuts per day plus about 2 figs per day. Walnuts are high in omega-3's and I think figs have a good amount of calcium (not certain--we're in airplane mode, people!).
At home, the night before my trip, I came across an enormous Japanese sweet potato that Adam certainly would not eat, so I popped it into a 350 degree (F) oven for literally 2 hours while I packed. You want that sucker to be nice and soft. Once it cooled, I cut it in half and wrapped each piece in parchment paper and put them in a bag. I brought a spoon from home for my almond yogurt in the morning, so I kept it with me and it worked beautifully to eat the sweet potato like a parfait.
I always hear air travel experts say not to eat much while you travel and I try my best to follow that advice. For an 8:00 AM flight, I just had a small yogurt on the way to the airport, my handful of walnuts and one fig on my first flight and about a cup of the sweet potato on my second flight. I haven't had anything to drink but water. I will gain an hour in Houston so when I get in at 12:20 it will actually be 1:20 to my tummy and that's late for lunch. My co-worker, who is traveling with me, and I might stop in the airport for lunch before we head to the bus stop (the plan is to take the city bus but I'm not sure it's worth the hassle). When we check in at the hotel it might be as late as 3:00 and we may as well just get another snack before dinner. Another important tip for traveling is to try keep your meals regular. If you're flying to a different time zone, it's helpful to eat breakfast at the time you would eat it where you're traveling TO, that way your body is gearing up for a new day, even if you're headed to bed the night before your flight.
Thankfully, my travel for work just sends me south and in a generally similar time zone. But it's still important to be consistent with meals.
I will try to post some packing tips soon, as well as go over some of the key items I like to have with me while traveling.
Buen viaje!
Inspired by Heidi Swanson's gourmet plane food suggestions, I decided to bring along some snacks that can pass through security and that I actually want to eat. I didn't really do a lot of planning for this, but here's what I came up with:
Two days ago, I stopped by our natural food co-op and resolved to avoid the very sugary Lara, Luna and Clif bars. I picked up some raw walnuts and Turkish figs instead. I mixed together enough for a handful (1/4 cup) of walnuts per day plus about 2 figs per day. Walnuts are high in omega-3's and I think figs have a good amount of calcium (not certain--we're in airplane mode, people!).
At home, the night before my trip, I came across an enormous Japanese sweet potato that Adam certainly would not eat, so I popped it into a 350 degree (F) oven for literally 2 hours while I packed. You want that sucker to be nice and soft. Once it cooled, I cut it in half and wrapped each piece in parchment paper and put them in a bag. I brought a spoon from home for my almond yogurt in the morning, so I kept it with me and it worked beautifully to eat the sweet potato like a parfait.
I always hear air travel experts say not to eat much while you travel and I try my best to follow that advice. For an 8:00 AM flight, I just had a small yogurt on the way to the airport, my handful of walnuts and one fig on my first flight and about a cup of the sweet potato on my second flight. I haven't had anything to drink but water. I will gain an hour in Houston so when I get in at 12:20 it will actually be 1:20 to my tummy and that's late for lunch. My co-worker, who is traveling with me, and I might stop in the airport for lunch before we head to the bus stop (the plan is to take the city bus but I'm not sure it's worth the hassle). When we check in at the hotel it might be as late as 3:00 and we may as well just get another snack before dinner. Another important tip for traveling is to try keep your meals regular. If you're flying to a different time zone, it's helpful to eat breakfast at the time you would eat it where you're traveling TO, that way your body is gearing up for a new day, even if you're headed to bed the night before your flight.
Thankfully, my travel for work just sends me south and in a generally similar time zone. But it's still important to be consistent with meals.
I will try to post some packing tips soon, as well as go over some of the key items I like to have with me while traveling.
Buen viaje!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Lake Shore Limited
I am fortunate to live close enough to visit my hometown by train, though far enough for it to require preparation and planning. I take the overnight train from Rochester, NY, to mid-Michigan, where my two beautiful nephews live (and most of the rest of my family, of course). Trains are my style. As someone who grew up with little access to a motor vehicle and now as an adult who does not own one, I find the train more convenient than barreling across a busy interstate at 80 miles per hour, constantly focused on the road and in many cases concerned about the lake effect. On a train, I can knit, read, sleep, and think without worrying if my life is in danger. And I would say that's pretty convenient.
The Lake Shore Limited departs Rochester at 11:00 PM and arrives in Toledo, OH in the morning, where I board a bus to my hometown university train station. The best part of my ride is when, in late spring, the sun rises over Lake Erie just as we near a portion of the track that nearly touches the shore. There is nothing like waking up on the train and seeing the golden light at sunrise filtered through antique windows, sparkling across the water and turning even the most high strung among us into daydreamers.
I will always be a lover of bodies of water. Growing up among four of the Great Lakes and settling as a young adult alongside the fifth, I can't imagine what it would be like to live far from water. And, you know, I hear so many people say that, I know it must be in our humanity. Think of the great cities of the world--are any of them landlocked? The ones I think of--Paris, London, Portland, San Francisco, New York City, Toronto, Sydney, Boston...I could go on and on--all are settled along the water's edge. Even our little town, though close to Lake Ontario, straddles the Genesee river, connecting to the Erie Canal. We all long to see the water, to know that it is there and that it is waiting for us to wake up and smile as our train "choo-choos" us towards the ones we love.
The Lake Shore Limited departs Rochester at 11:00 PM and arrives in Toledo, OH in the morning, where I board a bus to my hometown university train station. The best part of my ride is when, in late spring, the sun rises over Lake Erie just as we near a portion of the track that nearly touches the shore. There is nothing like waking up on the train and seeing the golden light at sunrise filtered through antique windows, sparkling across the water and turning even the most high strung among us into daydreamers.
I will always be a lover of bodies of water. Growing up among four of the Great Lakes and settling as a young adult alongside the fifth, I can't imagine what it would be like to live far from water. And, you know, I hear so many people say that, I know it must be in our humanity. Think of the great cities of the world--are any of them landlocked? The ones I think of--Paris, London, Portland, San Francisco, New York City, Toronto, Sydney, Boston...I could go on and on--all are settled along the water's edge. Even our little town, though close to Lake Ontario, straddles the Genesee river, connecting to the Erie Canal. We all long to see the water, to know that it is there and that it is waiting for us to wake up and smile as our train "choo-choos" us towards the ones we love.
Friday, February 24, 2012
Debt-Free in 2013
I have a problem.
I've gotten addicted to saving money and paying off loans.
Now, I wouldn't say I've adjusted my habits of spending quite yet, I still do a lot of impulse shopping (probably because I browse so much online), but I am doing a good thing by making the money disappear before it has time to burn a hole in my pocket.
See, I started a spreadsheet that calculates my take-home income as well as (most of) my expenses. The most exciting part of it is where I show my progress towards paying off my loans. If I adjust my monthly payment even a tiny bit, I see my balance go down and down. The first month I had this spreadsheet...I paid off an entire loan. It was a small one, of course, but I paid it off. Having it on my spreadsheet was just a liability, something hanging over me. When the balance gets down to around $1,000, I can't stand it. I have to pay it off.
I think I'm crazy. I'm doing the same thing with my savings. I think about how pathetic my savings account has been compared to how much I make, how I'm allowing it to hover at this low balance. I mean, I used to be pretty poor growing up (not that bad, of course). Then, I was a poor college student. Then I was a poor AmeriCorps volunteer. But now, I have a grown-up job and I need to do grown-up things with my paycheck. Like save more money. Have an emergency fund. Have a fun fund. So I move a chunk of my paycheck over to my savings account as soon as it comes in. Obviously I could transfer it back to my checking account in a bind, but for now, it's safe since it's not in my checking account (out of sight out of mind).
About two months in to using this spreadsheet, I've started to notice the effects of squirreling away my income. My checking account is lower than it usually is (it's closer to this month's credit card balance than it usually is). But that seems good to me. Now that I'm putting my money where it matters, I can pretend like I'm a poor college kid with only $300 in my checking account. As long as it's in the bank, rather than in my closet, I'm good. I'm even going to start contributing to a retirement fund. More on that later.
So my dilemma, now, is what to do with my tax return. I got very excited, thinking about how many plane tickets it could buy, or how I could invest in some nice new bike commuting gear, and then...I compared it to my loans. Turns out, my refund this year is almost identical to the balance on my loan with the highest interest rate. I've been whittling away at that one since I paid off my other loan, and it is SO tempting to just make that one go away. And it kind of seems like a sign.
The point is, I like having money, and I like spending it. I especially like spending it on experiences, like visiting my fabulous friends in their fabulous cities around the globe. But if I were to pay off ALL of my loans by the end of this year, then ALL of my money...would be mine. And 2013 could be all mine, too.
One small issue is that 2 of my loans have ridiculously low interest rates (0! and 2.3%). I *could* hold off on paying them down since they won't be accruing very much interest, but again, I just want to be done with debt. So we'll see how this year turns out. But for now, it's full steam ahead. Here's to being debt-free in 2013. I like the way that sounds!
I've gotten addicted to saving money and paying off loans.
Now, I wouldn't say I've adjusted my habits of spending quite yet, I still do a lot of impulse shopping (probably because I browse so much online), but I am doing a good thing by making the money disappear before it has time to burn a hole in my pocket.
See, I started a spreadsheet that calculates my take-home income as well as (most of) my expenses. The most exciting part of it is where I show my progress towards paying off my loans. If I adjust my monthly payment even a tiny bit, I see my balance go down and down. The first month I had this spreadsheet...I paid off an entire loan. It was a small one, of course, but I paid it off. Having it on my spreadsheet was just a liability, something hanging over me. When the balance gets down to around $1,000, I can't stand it. I have to pay it off.
I think I'm crazy. I'm doing the same thing with my savings. I think about how pathetic my savings account has been compared to how much I make, how I'm allowing it to hover at this low balance. I mean, I used to be pretty poor growing up (not that bad, of course). Then, I was a poor college student. Then I was a poor AmeriCorps volunteer. But now, I have a grown-up job and I need to do grown-up things with my paycheck. Like save more money. Have an emergency fund. Have a fun fund. So I move a chunk of my paycheck over to my savings account as soon as it comes in. Obviously I could transfer it back to my checking account in a bind, but for now, it's safe since it's not in my checking account (out of sight out of mind).
About two months in to using this spreadsheet, I've started to notice the effects of squirreling away my income. My checking account is lower than it usually is (it's closer to this month's credit card balance than it usually is). But that seems good to me. Now that I'm putting my money where it matters, I can pretend like I'm a poor college kid with only $300 in my checking account. As long as it's in the bank, rather than in my closet, I'm good. I'm even going to start contributing to a retirement fund. More on that later.
So my dilemma, now, is what to do with my tax return. I got very excited, thinking about how many plane tickets it could buy, or how I could invest in some nice new bike commuting gear, and then...I compared it to my loans. Turns out, my refund this year is almost identical to the balance on my loan with the highest interest rate. I've been whittling away at that one since I paid off my other loan, and it is SO tempting to just make that one go away. And it kind of seems like a sign.
The point is, I like having money, and I like spending it. I especially like spending it on experiences, like visiting my fabulous friends in their fabulous cities around the globe. But if I were to pay off ALL of my loans by the end of this year, then ALL of my money...would be mine. And 2013 could be all mine, too.
One small issue is that 2 of my loans have ridiculously low interest rates (0! and 2.3%). I *could* hold off on paying them down since they won't be accruing very much interest, but again, I just want to be done with debt. So we'll see how this year turns out. But for now, it's full steam ahead. Here's to being debt-free in 2013. I like the way that sounds!
Friday, February 17, 2012
wanderlusting
i opened the fire door
to four lips
none of which
were mine
kissing
tightened my belt
around my hips
where
your hands were missing
and stepped out
into the cold
collar high
under the slate gray sky
the air was smoking
and the streets were dry
and i wasn't joking
when i said
good bye
[ani difranco]
having a pensive night, thinking about issues that i care about, thinking about ways to live more authentically, mulling my thoughts over the brilliant sounds of ani difranco. remembering this song and how i turned it on my mp3 player as i first stepped into an overcast madrid morning to catch the train to the university, years ago now. tightening my clothes around the loneliness i felt and how it was somehow exhilarating. having the world at my fingertips and yet feeling lost and alone and small. so very small in such a big world.
the thing about great artists is that, if you catch them at the right time, they provide a soundtrack to your life, a backdrop to the memories of both painful and passionate moments. ani comforted me in a time when the world seemed to be falling apart. she always does.
"i guess everything is timing, i guess everything's been said, so i'm coming home to an empty head."
it surprises me that there is still closure to be found in my experiences abroad. in a lot of ways, i recognize that i was not ready for what i was to encounter there. that i was not primed to take advantage of all the experiences that were available to me. and yet i don't know that i ever would have been ready. it truly turned my life upside down, and i think that is the strange nature of travel. it unearths an unsettling feeling that may never get resolved, even after years of returning to "normalcy." i am forever changed, in the proverbial cliche way.
[ani difranco]
having a pensive night, thinking about issues that i care about, thinking about ways to live more authentically, mulling my thoughts over the brilliant sounds of ani difranco. remembering this song and how i turned it on my mp3 player as i first stepped into an overcast madrid morning to catch the train to the university, years ago now. tightening my clothes around the loneliness i felt and how it was somehow exhilarating. having the world at my fingertips and yet feeling lost and alone and small. so very small in such a big world.
the thing about great artists is that, if you catch them at the right time, they provide a soundtrack to your life, a backdrop to the memories of both painful and passionate moments. ani comforted me in a time when the world seemed to be falling apart. she always does.
"i guess everything is timing, i guess everything's been said, so i'm coming home to an empty head."
it surprises me that there is still closure to be found in my experiences abroad. in a lot of ways, i recognize that i was not ready for what i was to encounter there. that i was not primed to take advantage of all the experiences that were available to me. and yet i don't know that i ever would have been ready. it truly turned my life upside down, and i think that is the strange nature of travel. it unearths an unsettling feeling that may never get resolved, even after years of returning to "normalcy." i am forever changed, in the proverbial cliche way.
"how can i go home with nothing to say
i know you're going to look at me that way
and say what did you do out there
and
what did you decide
you said you needed time
and
you had time"
i spoke to a very respected co-worker today about my love of travel, and how she despises it. she refuses to go somewhere where should could get a parasite, or worse, abducted. i suppose we are mad to take those risks for the intoxicating feeling of that first espresso in a cafe where everyone is foreign. that rush of adrenaline when the immigration officer slams his fist into a stamp which makes real and tangible the fact that you are a stranger in a new place.
i like just about everything about traveling. i like packing black & neutral clothes and colorful scarves, phone chargers and travel-size toiletries. i like that nervous feeling in my gut when i wake up too early to catch a train or flight. i like that soy latte in the airport, even if it's awful. i like remembering, every time i take off in an airplane, the puerto rican boy who shouted with glee "we are going to the planets! to the sky!" as we took off from detroit and then landed in the middle of the caribbean.
i like getting my bearings in a new airport and then a city. i like the smells and the change in faces. i even like the lonelines. i never feel more like the protagonist of my own story than when i travel. it's the ultimate out-of-body experience. funny that i feel more myself when i'm out of my element than when i'm in it.
there are a million other reasons why i like to throw a suitcase together and jet around the world, but mostly, i think it's because i am fulfilling a promise i made to a bewildered young girl who got a taste of the great big world out there and i couldn't bear to let her down. as a teenager wandering the streets of cuernavaca, i made a promise to myself that i would travel. that i would defy the status quo of my perceived destiny, a girl from a small town in midwestern america. i would see the world, i would be open to it, and i would embrace the parasites and the dangers and the loneliness to get a whiff of that inebriating moroccan incense while the muezzin call the faithful to prayer, the crackling pine wood of a campfire in the sierras, the eerie aroma of a spanish eucalyptus forest in the fog, the crisp, salty spray of the pacific ocean, and the circling gulls.
the sky is grey
i spoke to a very respected co-worker today about my love of travel, and how she despises it. she refuses to go somewhere where should could get a parasite, or worse, abducted. i suppose we are mad to take those risks for the intoxicating feeling of that first espresso in a cafe where everyone is foreign. that rush of adrenaline when the immigration officer slams his fist into a stamp which makes real and tangible the fact that you are a stranger in a new place.
i like just about everything about traveling. i like packing black & neutral clothes and colorful scarves, phone chargers and travel-size toiletries. i like that nervous feeling in my gut when i wake up too early to catch a train or flight. i like that soy latte in the airport, even if it's awful. i like remembering, every time i take off in an airplane, the puerto rican boy who shouted with glee "we are going to the planets! to the sky!" as we took off from detroit and then landed in the middle of the caribbean.
i like getting my bearings in a new airport and then a city. i like the smells and the change in faces. i even like the lonelines. i never feel more like the protagonist of my own story than when i travel. it's the ultimate out-of-body experience. funny that i feel more myself when i'm out of my element than when i'm in it.
there are a million other reasons why i like to throw a suitcase together and jet around the world, but mostly, i think it's because i am fulfilling a promise i made to a bewildered young girl who got a taste of the great big world out there and i couldn't bear to let her down. as a teenager wandering the streets of cuernavaca, i made a promise to myself that i would travel. that i would defy the status quo of my perceived destiny, a girl from a small town in midwestern america. i would see the world, i would be open to it, and i would embrace the parasites and the dangers and the loneliness to get a whiff of that inebriating moroccan incense while the muezzin call the faithful to prayer, the crackling pine wood of a campfire in the sierras, the eerie aroma of a spanish eucalyptus forest in the fog, the crisp, salty spray of the pacific ocean, and the circling gulls.
the sky is grey
the sand is grey
and the ocean is grey
and i feel right at home
in this stunning monochrome
alone in my way
i smoke and i drink
and every time i blink
i have a tiny dream
but as bad as i am
i'm proud of the fact
that i'm worse than i seem
what kind of paradise
am i looking for?
i've got everything i want
and still i want more
maybe some tiny
shiny key
will
wash up on the shore
it is inevitable. at least once a year, i have an uncontrollable itch to board a plane and discover a new place. in the past 6 years, i have been to dozens of places in spain, to morocco, to paris, to california, to scotland, montana and oregon, seattle/tacoma and rochester, washington dc, san francisco, new york city, the adirondacks, chicago, toronto and all over the dominican republic. and it is nowhere near enough. around february i start packing my suitcase just to practice. i scour rei.com for gear that i might need. i search ticket prices online and flip through my passport. i think of the people i love and the wonderful places they live and watch my bank account for a direct deposit to arrive that will allow me to live the life i have imagined. the life i choose. the life that makes me feel both empty and full, happy and sad, alone and united with humanity. the life where i get to sit at a table on a sidewalk cafe, sip wine and dip bread in oil and pretend that my life is an ever-unfolding story of a girl who took a chance and braved those awful parasites to see the sun set over sacre coeur. and that mesmerizing eiffel tower.
it is inevitable. at least once a year, i have an uncontrollable itch to board a plane and discover a new place. in the past 6 years, i have been to dozens of places in spain, to morocco, to paris, to california, to scotland, montana and oregon, seattle/tacoma and rochester, washington dc, san francisco, new york city, the adirondacks, chicago, toronto and all over the dominican republic. and it is nowhere near enough. around february i start packing my suitcase just to practice. i scour rei.com for gear that i might need. i search ticket prices online and flip through my passport. i think of the people i love and the wonderful places they live and watch my bank account for a direct deposit to arrive that will allow me to live the life i have imagined. the life i choose. the life that makes me feel both empty and full, happy and sad, alone and united with humanity. the life where i get to sit at a table on a sidewalk cafe, sip wine and dip bread in oil and pretend that my life is an ever-unfolding story of a girl who took a chance and braved those awful parasites to see the sun set over sacre coeur. and that mesmerizing eiffel tower.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Quick(ish) Cashew Cheese
Last night I started soaking some raw cashews to make cheese today. Supposedly the longer you soak them the creamier the cheese will be (no more than overnight). This is how I put it together:
1/2-3/4 C raw cashews, soaked
A few Tbs leftover soaking water
1 Tbs nutritional yeast
1 tsp lemon juice
1 Tbs miso
1 Tbs tahini
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/8 tsp smoked paprika (optional)
Salt & pepper to taste
Blend everything in a food processor for a few minutes until very smooth. These are very rough estimates so almost everything should be measured to taste. If it is too thin you can let it set in the fridge. I believe some of the liquid will separate so you can pour it off.
Yum! Can't wait to try some on rye toast!
1/2-3/4 C raw cashews, soaked
A few Tbs leftover soaking water
1 Tbs nutritional yeast
1 tsp lemon juice
1 Tbs miso
1 Tbs tahini
1/4 tsp garlic powder
1/8 tsp smoked paprika (optional)
Salt & pepper to taste
Blend everything in a food processor for a few minutes until very smooth. These are very rough estimates so almost everything should be measured to taste. If it is too thin you can let it set in the fridge. I believe some of the liquid will separate so you can pour it off.
Yum! Can't wait to try some on rye toast!
Friday, February 3, 2012
Week's end
Tonight I left work early, sat in a coffee shop knitting, drinking chai and listening to my favorite podcast waiting for Adam to meet me for dinner. We ate at my favorite restaurant, barely missed the bus home and opted to walk home instead of waiting an hour for the next one. We got home before the bus would have left downtown, plus got more than our daily minimum exercise. Now I'm reading about German and Dutch bicycle and pedestrian infrastructure and policy.
Let's just say I love the weekend.
Let's just say I love the weekend.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Response: Open Letter to Motorists
I sometimes forget these things can really get out there into the interwebs, and it's left for others' interpretation. I received a few comments in reaction to my "enough is enough" post regarding motorists' treatment of non-motorists, and some things were inferred that I thought I could explain a bit more. This is not to be interpreted as lashing out against criticism of my feelings, but rather a way to be better heard regarding my specific objections to being asked every day, "Did you ride your bike?"
I should have mentioned in my post, Open Letter to Motorists, that I used to work with a woman who also biked to work, but for completely different reasons than why I do. For her, it was about fitness and staying in shape for competitions. She had a car and children and I think she asked me sometimes to guilt trip herself when she didn't ride, or to make herself feel better if she rode and I didn't. I really despised the competition and having to "admit" my choice [daily] when sometimes there is a very complicated decision-making process ("Am I meeting someone after work who has a car and no bike rack? Do I need to bring in awkwardly shaped objects to work? Do I need to get groceries on the way home? Am I leaving straight from work to catch a plane or go on a roadtrip? Is it too icy to bike?") No one wants to hear about those details, they just want a simple yes or no, did you ride your bike? But I want to know, "Why do you care?"
I understand that most people are just trying to think of something to say to me, to make polite conversation, but it is very hurtful when something so important to me is reduced to a yes or no. When they use my means of transportation as a way to demean me, by assuming that my experience must be awful on some days, even if quite pleasant on others. It is even more hurtful when people put down riding the bus. It is not glamorous, of course, but it is also a statement, of equal importance to riding a bike in my mind, of my commitment to safe, environmentally-friendly and progressive transportation. But from the looks on people's faces, and the way it stops the conversation, it indicates that I am poor or lazy. And who would want to spend all that time downtown...where the black people are. I'm being sarcastic, of course.
My problem is not that people ask me questions, it's that they ask questions to demean me. You may think that I'm overreacting or misunderstanding them, but when you get questioned day after day with the same responses and comments, you begin to sense a pattern. It is the same with my veganism. People automatically default to extremely negative reactions, "Oh, sorry, you can't have that" or "I had some [insert dead animal] last night...Oh, sorry, you don't eat that." "Where do you get your protein?" "I could never give up cheese, it's just too delicious." All of these things seem harmless, but they are in fact negative evaluations of my choices, which, by the way, make me blissfully happy apart from the negativity I receive from other people. The point is, you can be lazy about making conversation with me, but pick something that doesn't bring in our diverging ethical beliefs on a wintry Friday morning. No one thinks they are being rude, because they are in the majority.
My partner also rides his bike or the bus to work, and is vegan, and experiences the same interactions, though sometimes worse (I work in a community health department, so people tend to be more accepting of my "lifestyle" than they are at my partner's corporate media company). On the day I wrote the previous post, he and I were tied for 3 comments about riding our bikes in the winter weather by 10 AM.
I actually feel this way nearly every day, and yes, I decided to just write about it because it doesn't do much good complaining to Adam night after night about the idiot things people say, mindlessly, to me about things I care very much about. I have story upon story of outrageous things people have said to me, but what gets to me is that they don't want to have a conversation. They want to say something mindlessly and not have it mean anything. And I just think that's wrong. I don't care if this is an office and we're in cubicles. Don't ask about people's lifestyle choices if you don't want to talk about them. Don't bring up my ethical values and then treat them as if they aren't ethical. Don't disrespect my choices by talking about how miserable I must be making them. As I said in the end of my post, I continue to talk to people politely, racking my brain for constructive responses to their questions, a way to dig a little deeper with them, but they don't want to think about it. They don't like it when they say "Be careful on your ride home" and I say "You too" because that puts the onus on them, and they don't want to be responsible for my safety.
Sometimes people who are endlessly nice to others who don't deserve it need a place to debrief that isn't their kitchen.
I should have mentioned in my post, Open Letter to Motorists, that I used to work with a woman who also biked to work, but for completely different reasons than why I do. For her, it was about fitness and staying in shape for competitions. She had a car and children and I think she asked me sometimes to guilt trip herself when she didn't ride, or to make herself feel better if she rode and I didn't. I really despised the competition and having to "admit" my choice [daily] when sometimes there is a very complicated decision-making process ("Am I meeting someone after work who has a car and no bike rack? Do I need to bring in awkwardly shaped objects to work? Do I need to get groceries on the way home? Am I leaving straight from work to catch a plane or go on a roadtrip? Is it too icy to bike?") No one wants to hear about those details, they just want a simple yes or no, did you ride your bike? But I want to know, "Why do you care?"
I understand that most people are just trying to think of something to say to me, to make polite conversation, but it is very hurtful when something so important to me is reduced to a yes or no. When they use my means of transportation as a way to demean me, by assuming that my experience must be awful on some days, even if quite pleasant on others. It is even more hurtful when people put down riding the bus. It is not glamorous, of course, but it is also a statement, of equal importance to riding a bike in my mind, of my commitment to safe, environmentally-friendly and progressive transportation. But from the looks on people's faces, and the way it stops the conversation, it indicates that I am poor or lazy. And who would want to spend all that time downtown...where the black people are. I'm being sarcastic, of course.
My problem is not that people ask me questions, it's that they ask questions to demean me. You may think that I'm overreacting or misunderstanding them, but when you get questioned day after day with the same responses and comments, you begin to sense a pattern. It is the same with my veganism. People automatically default to extremely negative reactions, "Oh, sorry, you can't have that" or "I had some [insert dead animal] last night...Oh, sorry, you don't eat that." "Where do you get your protein?" "I could never give up cheese, it's just too delicious." All of these things seem harmless, but they are in fact negative evaluations of my choices, which, by the way, make me blissfully happy apart from the negativity I receive from other people. The point is, you can be lazy about making conversation with me, but pick something that doesn't bring in our diverging ethical beliefs on a wintry Friday morning. No one thinks they are being rude, because they are in the majority.
My partner also rides his bike or the bus to work, and is vegan, and experiences the same interactions, though sometimes worse (I work in a community health department, so people tend to be more accepting of my "lifestyle" than they are at my partner's corporate media company). On the day I wrote the previous post, he and I were tied for 3 comments about riding our bikes in the winter weather by 10 AM.
I actually feel this way nearly every day, and yes, I decided to just write about it because it doesn't do much good complaining to Adam night after night about the idiot things people say, mindlessly, to me about things I care very much about. I have story upon story of outrageous things people have said to me, but what gets to me is that they don't want to have a conversation. They want to say something mindlessly and not have it mean anything. And I just think that's wrong. I don't care if this is an office and we're in cubicles. Don't ask about people's lifestyle choices if you don't want to talk about them. Don't bring up my ethical values and then treat them as if they aren't ethical. Don't disrespect my choices by talking about how miserable I must be making them. As I said in the end of my post, I continue to talk to people politely, racking my brain for constructive responses to their questions, a way to dig a little deeper with them, but they don't want to think about it. They don't like it when they say "Be careful on your ride home" and I say "You too" because that puts the onus on them, and they don't want to be responsible for my safety.
Sometimes people who are endlessly nice to others who don't deserve it need a place to debrief that isn't their kitchen.
Friday, January 13, 2012
open letter to motorists
It finally has to be said.
Motorists drive me absolutely up the wall.
I can't tell you how many times I'm asked daily, "Did you ride your bike today?" And usually, no, almost always, it's because the weather is so crappy they can't imagine hopping on a bike to get to work. So that's a really nice way of saying "I bet you had a really shitty commute, huh?" The other 2% of the time they ask me because it's a gorgeous day, and if by chance I didn't ride my bike, they look disappointed.
Let me explain something. When I don't ride my bike, I take the bus. I never drive to work (maybe 3 times, when I borrowed a car from my sister, while she was out of town). People, though, for being so thoroughly enthusiastic about me riding my bike (on good days) are so thoroughly unimpressed by my taking the bus when I don't ride. It completely ends the conversation.
I would just like to say that I don't ask people if they brushed their teeth this morning, or if they got off their asses and went for a run after work. I don't ask what route they take to work or if they stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for a 700 calorie doughnut hole. I don't ask them if they speed or if they give pedestrians the right of way. I don't ask where they buy their gas or IF THEY GODDAMN DROVE TO WORK.
I get asked in the bathroom, in the kitchen, in the hallway, and at my desk. I get asked when co-workers (who never actually work) stop by the window 12 times a day to look at the weather. And then they ask if I rode. And the kicker is, they truly don't care whether I rode my bike or not. Because they already know how they feel about riding. That they would never consider pairing physical activity with commuting. That it must be such a hassle for me to bike to work. I'm guessing they think taking the bus is a hassle as well, but I don't know because, like I said, it's a conversation-stopper.
Today we got our first big dumping of snow, and people ask me almost nervously if I braved the snow on my two-wheeled chariot. When I "admit" I took the bus, they look relieved and proceed to tell me how they saw an idiot cyclist on the road in this weather. As if they didn't want to say anything if they knew I had been an idiot too. "I mean, CARS are sliding all over!" The whole problem with their attitudes is that they think I am doing something dangerous, when I am actually avoiding the danger--the possibility of KILLING someone with a 2-ton high-velocity metal cage. Riding my bike is only dangerous because they are out there in their cars.
Then, if I ride my bike, I'm told to "be careful". As if being surrounded by 2-ton high-velocity metal cages during rush hour near the largest employer in the city weren't a good enough reminder of how "careful" I need to be. As if my bare body doesn't care about looking for traffic even though I could be smashed in the blink of an eye and it not be my fault.
So what do I do? I'm completely trapped because I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. If I ride my bike on a day when motorists find inclement weather, then I'm stupid, and if I don't ride my bike I'm unimpressive. But the whole goddamned point is that I'm not out to impress anyone. I don't ride my bike so that people will ask me about it. I wish they wouldn't! And I don't want to tell you that I rode my bike just so you can lecture me about being safe, because I know exactly how dangerous cars are--so much so, I choose not to operate them for fear I could kill someone.
I could write a novel on my annoyance with people not letting me just enjoy riding my bike, but I'll save that for another day. For now, I'm going to sit here and pat myself on the back for always making more environmentally friendly choices than driving a motor vehicle, and for being nice to people who are jerks. So there.
Motorists drive me absolutely up the wall.
I can't tell you how many times I'm asked daily, "Did you ride your bike today?" And usually, no, almost always, it's because the weather is so crappy they can't imagine hopping on a bike to get to work. So that's a really nice way of saying "I bet you had a really shitty commute, huh?" The other 2% of the time they ask me because it's a gorgeous day, and if by chance I didn't ride my bike, they look disappointed.
Let me explain something. When I don't ride my bike, I take the bus. I never drive to work (maybe 3 times, when I borrowed a car from my sister, while she was out of town). People, though, for being so thoroughly enthusiastic about me riding my bike (on good days) are so thoroughly unimpressed by my taking the bus when I don't ride. It completely ends the conversation.
I would just like to say that I don't ask people if they brushed their teeth this morning, or if they got off their asses and went for a run after work. I don't ask what route they take to work or if they stopped at Dunkin' Donuts for a 700 calorie doughnut hole. I don't ask them if they speed or if they give pedestrians the right of way. I don't ask where they buy their gas or IF THEY GODDAMN DROVE TO WORK.
I get asked in the bathroom, in the kitchen, in the hallway, and at my desk. I get asked when co-workers (who never actually work) stop by the window 12 times a day to look at the weather. And then they ask if I rode. And the kicker is, they truly don't care whether I rode my bike or not. Because they already know how they feel about riding. That they would never consider pairing physical activity with commuting. That it must be such a hassle for me to bike to work. I'm guessing they think taking the bus is a hassle as well, but I don't know because, like I said, it's a conversation-stopper.
Today we got our first big dumping of snow, and people ask me almost nervously if I braved the snow on my two-wheeled chariot. When I "admit" I took the bus, they look relieved and proceed to tell me how they saw an idiot cyclist on the road in this weather. As if they didn't want to say anything if they knew I had been an idiot too. "I mean, CARS are sliding all over!" The whole problem with their attitudes is that they think I am doing something dangerous, when I am actually avoiding the danger--the possibility of KILLING someone with a 2-ton high-velocity metal cage. Riding my bike is only dangerous because they are out there in their cars.
Then, if I ride my bike, I'm told to "be careful". As if being surrounded by 2-ton high-velocity metal cages during rush hour near the largest employer in the city weren't a good enough reminder of how "careful" I need to be. As if my bare body doesn't care about looking for traffic even though I could be smashed in the blink of an eye and it not be my fault.
So what do I do? I'm completely trapped because I'm damned if I do and damned if I don't. If I ride my bike on a day when motorists find inclement weather, then I'm stupid, and if I don't ride my bike I'm unimpressive. But the whole goddamned point is that I'm not out to impress anyone. I don't ride my bike so that people will ask me about it. I wish they wouldn't! And I don't want to tell you that I rode my bike just so you can lecture me about being safe, because I know exactly how dangerous cars are--so much so, I choose not to operate them for fear I could kill someone.
I could write a novel on my annoyance with people not letting me just enjoy riding my bike, but I'll save that for another day. For now, I'm going to sit here and pat myself on the back for always making more environmentally friendly choices than driving a motor vehicle, and for being nice to people who are jerks. So there.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
Resolve
So it's January 5th and I have to say that I should have gotten rid of the sugary products in my house before starting my sugar-free journey. I'm not one to let things go to waste, and since our house guests are gone I've taken to cleaning out the sugary stuff, so to speak. Agave nectar, mom's cinnamon bread (though she did go light on the sugar), coconut nog and fruit juices still tempt me at home, but I'm okay with that for now. The only way I do things is gradually.
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I finally got my hands on the Kinfolk Magazine. I heard about it through two blogs that I read, and I was waiting to put iOS 5 on my iPad so I could download it.
It was SO worth the wait.
Kinfolk is a magazine dedicated to the art of small gatherings. It is a beautiful collection of stories and photographs that glorify the goodness of sharing a cup of tea with a friend or the importance of lovingly preparing food for loved ones. I am very inspired by this particular aspect of the human experience to which these talented artists and writers decided to dedicate this magazine. It makes me proud of the gatherings we hosted over the holidays for friends and family and glad that I put so much effort into making our home cozy and our food inviting. It also encourages me to let go a bit--to allow things to unfold naturally, organically, without feeling contrived.
One line from a story really stood out to me. In talking about the harshness of a Manitoba winter, one writer wrote,
"Winter is the recognition, in the form of a season, that we need each other."
-----------
I finally got my hands on the Kinfolk Magazine. I heard about it through two blogs that I read, and I was waiting to put iOS 5 on my iPad so I could download it.
It was SO worth the wait.
Kinfolk is a magazine dedicated to the art of small gatherings. It is a beautiful collection of stories and photographs that glorify the goodness of sharing a cup of tea with a friend or the importance of lovingly preparing food for loved ones. I am very inspired by this particular aspect of the human experience to which these talented artists and writers decided to dedicate this magazine. It makes me proud of the gatherings we hosted over the holidays for friends and family and glad that I put so much effort into making our home cozy and our food inviting. It also encourages me to let go a bit--to allow things to unfold naturally, organically, without feeling contrived.
One line from a story really stood out to me. In talking about the harshness of a Manitoba winter, one writer wrote,
"Winter is the recognition, in the form of a season, that we need each other."
I think about the times that Adam and I make the effort to brave the cold and snow and wind to visit a friend and how it always seems worth it, and how the weather is not as bad as we thought it would be (usually).
A few weeks ago I wrote that I was embarrassed to be so enamored of fancy things like tea and cozy neighborhoods and eating at restaurants because of my deep awareness of the suffering and needs of our community, and yet I find comfort in knowing that all humans have the desire to be warm, to drink from warm mugs in the winter and to share a meal with the ones we love. It is not luxury that I seek, but rather the comforts of community and home. All I have to do is work to extend the hospitality of our home to more neighbors.
So add that to the list of intentions for 2012.
A few weeks ago I wrote that I was embarrassed to be so enamored of fancy things like tea and cozy neighborhoods and eating at restaurants because of my deep awareness of the suffering and needs of our community, and yet I find comfort in knowing that all humans have the desire to be warm, to drink from warm mugs in the winter and to share a meal with the ones we love. It is not luxury that I seek, but rather the comforts of community and home. All I have to do is work to extend the hospitality of our home to more neighbors.
So add that to the list of intentions for 2012.
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