Twice if You're Lucky

I remember asking Isaac once, while we were dating, if he thought we'd ever have difficulty with passion in our relationship. I remember the hows and whys of the conversation and, 11 years later, I recall that conversation sometimes. Mostly out of amusement. Because, while we definitely have passion in our lives, it turns out we have something even better, in addition.

After 11 years of marriage, I'm comfortable. And not in the way that people who are about to flee the relationship say "I'm comfortable". I'm comfortable that I have a man by my side who loves me - all of me, HUGE flaws and all. He's patient and kind and gracious. He has serious flaws, himself and drives me crazy, but he's here. Every day of my life, able to do so. That is not something I take lightly.

I'm comfortable with our shorthand to each other. That we know the stories. That we have inside jokes and dreams and goals that are ours alone. That we know each others moods and weaknesses, desires and buttons. I'm comfortable breaking down, showing the ugly. Exposing my flaws, my failures, my stumblings. I'm comfortable, letting him hold me when I can't hold myself up a moment longer. I'm comfortable and home when he's with me.

Eleven years. Some difficult, some easy, all worth it. Eleven years today. It's gone so quickly, yet I can't recall a time when Isaac wasn't there. Eleven years. Happy anniversary, my love; my GREATEST blessing...


(freedom, wham)

Oh, Yeah. I Remember

As previously discussed, I have this condition.

Yesterday, I felt great. Almost like "myself" pre-condition. It was fantastic. I got up, made salsa, blanched veggies to freeze, cleaned the kitchen (fridge, dishes, floor, everything), went outside with Sammy, tended tomatoes, finished up some work, laundry, made dinner, etc. I can't remember the last time I had such a burst of energy. Especially one that lasted the entire day. And today, the feeling badly didn't come, as I was, unfortunately, expecting.

I'm not sure what to attribute this new found feeling to (it's honestly been going on in short bursts all summer) but I have my suspicions. I've lost five pounds in the past 2 1/2 weeks. Not a huge amount, but it's something. And then I remembered my doctor telling me that loosing even 10 pounds would help tremendously. So. Something to it? It seems like it. I've started looking at my relationship with food. I always assumed I was an emotional eater (because isn't everyone?) but I'm not. In fact, when stressed or busy or worried or...I tend NOT to eat. It's just that I like food. So if I eat, but just eat less...well, you see where this is going. So I've lost by changing a couple of bad habits I've gotten into (namely lunch out for Sammy and me and paying closer attentions to how much I eat). Again. Feels like it's going somewhere.

Another thing that has changed is our life here. We seem busier and happier and more scheduled. Which maybe for some isn't great, but I think for me, it's heaven sent. Less time to focus on "poor me" and more time to go and do. Takes me out of myself. Which, ultimately, brings us back to food. Because I've realized I'm NOT an emotional eater, and often don't eat when I'm busy, I have to remind myself to eat. I've taken special care to eat "on time" and have several go to things that are quick and healthy. Just doing that has left me feeling amazingly better. No more hitting 3 pm realizing I'm starving and foraging the pantry for the bad options.

But, I'm sure this isn't the end. I know I'll have this condition for the rest of my life. But for now, it's lovely to remember. It's lovely to try to realize why this is happening. It's lovely to lose a little weight and see if that, truly, is the key to this entire thing.


(trying to pull myself away, swell season)

Hurry...

I'm in a hurry this morning. I've been reading over a manuscript for an author and I'm nearly done (yay!). I wanted to be all done, notes typed and off, by last night, but I went just a little over my plan. Life tends to be like that. A little boy who kept injuring himself and wanting to be held all day yesterday thwarted a lot of plans. That's ok. It'll be done by lunch. And sent off. Hopefully to then be forgotten.

Lunch. My new favorite time of day. Mozzarella, tomato and a little garlic on french bread with homemade salsa and chips. Man. I love late summer if just for this! I've been eating it nonstop: breakfast, lunch, it matters not. My tomatoes (well, other than my cherries) all rotted on the vine, so I've been stocking up at the farmer's market every Saturday and no matter how many I buy, I run through them by Tuesday at the latest. It's sad, really. But if tomatoes keep you healthy...

But after lunch, today, is the time I've been waiting for. The time I've been working toward. The time I plan on slowing down, catching my breath. My work, my chores, should either be done or can be postponed. Sammy can entertain himself. Because today...today is Mockingjay day. So I'll leave you with these very important words as I (hope!) you all are about to spend the day the same...Go Peeta!


(paramore, the only exception)

Food. Glorious Food.

Can you imagine a famine? Me neither. We have so much. So it was with GREAT interest I read this NPR article last week. So great the interest, I downloaded the book immediately after.

Global food structures worry me a great deal. Sadly, it wasn't something I worried about for many years, but lately, I am draw again and again to this concept. I don't like being dependent on Chilean farmers for grapes, my favorite fruit. I want to grow my own, in season and be satisfied. But, when the longing for grapes hit in the doldrums of January, how is my resolve then? Not so great. I know. And that is part of what worries me. I fear we have painted ourselves into a corner, more and more dependent on others, for our basic needs, not grasping the concepts of growing seasons and ebb and flow. I worry that a true crisis may put that into a tailspin and we are left eating what is local and may face a true hardship.

This food journey of ours is taking a long time to implement. Isaac and I were raised during a time where convenience reigned and unteaching ourselves that is difficult, to be sure. We were raised as label readers and boxed this and microwaved that - even IF neither of us had a lot of that growing up, we definitely knew about it and the sometimes treats of youth did take over. For a time. And now, now I feel this need to turn my yard into a garden. Can my own food. Find local farmers to enter a co-op with for all the meat we eat. Keep it fresh, keep it local, keep it in season.

And then I wonder if my need to find good, local food is this? The need to turn my yard into a garden, is this? A primal need to make sure me and mine will be ok, whatever storm may come. It's an urging I'm doing my best at not ignoring. Little by little we're getting there. Little by little I'm buying our safety net. Our insurance. Our rainbow for that what if rainy day.

I thought of all of this this past weekend as we trekked south with a giant cooler in our car to pick up our 1/4 of cow, 1/4 of pig (mmmm....bacon...) and our 12 chickens. Again I ran through the pros and cons of taking a day off to do this. The expense, the time, the freezer room. Was it worth it? Was it the doings of a crazy person? Why, again, am I doing this? And then I scrolled over the new warnings listed in the egg recall and remember that I didn't have to go check lot numbers on our cartons. I'm doing this for breathing room. I'm totally ok with that.


(broken bells, vaporize)