I don't know when it happened, but somewhere along the line, I grew up. I got married. I had kids. I got a "real job". I both took up smoking and 8 years later quit the habit. I bought a house. I've replaced a toilet. I've opened investment accounts. Yes, plural. Investment accounts. Made a bucket list and then proceeded to cross some things off it, as well as create new iterations of said bucket list.
Yes, I bought a house. Right smack in the middle of the city that I hate, but am now kinda obligated to attempt to love, or at least tolerate. The house kind of reminds me of a house you'd expect to find in Chicago, and I cannot even tell you why. It was built in 1905, so of course parts of it are kind of falling apart, or at the very least very old. But I really like it - well, except for the roof. The roof that is 30+ years old. The roof that was excluded from our homeowner's insurance but led the inspector to declare that I should have "a good five years on it yet"...well...maybe five years without a hailstorm, or maybe home inspectors count years differently than normal people do, because after a good hailstorm back in July, yes you guessed it. The roof leaks.
Shit.
That led me to make a bold move, as if the move to buy the house itself was not bold enough. And it's another little piece of evidence that I've grown up. I'm donning the red and khaki (although this time it's jeans at least until January), and working part-time at Target again, something I said 11 years ago (when I quit the first time) that I'd never do. And you know what? I actually now, like this job more than I like my day job. Maybe the fact that it's a secondary income and not my primary source of income has something to do with it, that I'm not depending on it to make a living. Maybe two years of working at home (and quitting smoking) has given me the dreaded "Anthem Ass". OK so it has. I've put on 46 pounds since I quit smoking in February of 2017. But it is a nice change of pace, and it's nice to get out of the house and make a little money while I'm at it.
So since I have no other good way of putting it, let's address the elephant in the room. I was (ostensibly) too busy "living my best life" (physical air quotes intended) to blog, which is why you haven't heard from me since March 7th...although further research tells me this is not the first time I've taken a hiatus of sorts. So now I'm back from outer space. You just walked in to find me here with that sad look upon my face. You should have changed that stupid lock, you should have made me leave my key, if you'd have known for just one second I'd be back to bother you yeah I went there. If you don't speak in song quotes from time to time we can't be friends.
And right about now I'm all about making friends.
I think in your teens and twenties you get cocky, and I know I'm not the first to come up with this theory. So I'll rephrase that. I agree, that in your teens and twenties you get cocky; you sometimes feel invincible. At some point, maybe it's sometime in your thirties, that cockiness mellows out. Now I'm not gonna lie and say I've got all my shit figured out because I'll be the first to tell you I'm a basket case. A lot of the things that bothered me when I first worked at Target don't seem to bother me anymore. I seem to be having more epiphanies lately, and if I can give myself the time to think about them and consider them, lead to a new worldview.
My worldview has evolved so much over the past 3 or 4 years, it's crazy. I've looked at old journals and such from way back in 2002-2005, and was just shaking my head at the (for lack of better words) drama queen I was. And that's not to say that I'm not still a bit of a drama queen (YAAAAAS HE WENT THERE). Needless to say, I burnt those old journals. That was an old part of me that needs to be left in the early naughties.
And so here we are. 2018 has definitely been the year we've been living our best life. I seriously credit all this to quitting smoking. If any of my readers smoke, do yourself the awesome favor and quit. I have such an addictive personality that years ago I said "what, me? Quit? Yeah right. Easier said than done." And it's true. But it's so worth it. SO worth it. But you have to want it. You need to be in that place that says you're ready.
But it's more than that. I've had the opportunity tonight, while zoning in Market, to stand back (I first typed that as "stank back" and laughed as I hit the backspace key) and take stock of the fact that 11 years and one week after quitting, there I was again, with a brand new attitude and outlook on life.
And I know that it won't put a roof on my house, but part timing it for now will bring in a little bit more income that will free up more to save for said roof. Ever since my "Financial Crash of 2012" (we'll just call it that), it's been nothing but baby steps to get to where I am today...and I'm not even fully there yet. (Where even is "there"?). But no matter what the situation is, it will get better. Time will move on, and you'll grow up.
And when you grow up, you'll probably lose your hair...or at least, I have. Yeah, that part of growing up sucks.
Thursday, November 15, 2018
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Sad and Bougie
Wow. It's been over a year since my last post. So it seems as though I've fallen victim to my usual old problem, trying to do all the things. In doing so, as always, I've done none of the things.
Well that's not true.
Off the top of my head I can think of a few, that I just never found the time to write about...or...in my case...was too distracted by other necessary things to procure the time to write about.
I had planned a blog post called "A Little More Yeast", as a sequel to my excursions in yeast, in which I would talk about my adventures in brewing - specifically, I brewed a clone of New Glarus Brewery's Spotted Cow (famous here in Wisconsin), and I also made a batch of Dandelion Wine.
Yeah that never happened. And by that I mean the blog post; the actual brewing occurred mid-year.
In August my family and I took a weeklong family vacation, something we have never been able to do. We went to Mackinaw City, Michigan and had a wonderful time. We will have to go back when I find my dream job and/or money is no longer (or much less of) an object.
In April we bought a Jeep. I have a higher car payment now, but I'll take the car payment over having to worry about car repairs. Being a single car family (in this town at least) really sucks, but I've been making do since October of 2016. Public transportation in this area is lacking, save for a bus, which I rode once, but honestly, I got spoiled by the Metra/CTA of Chicago.
Late March I got introduced to Rhett and Link via Good Mythical Morning, and it could not have come at a better time. Just two weeks prior, my family and I suffered a loss. Something that subconsciously may have been the cause of my apathy of last year and which may have sparked another round of depression, now that I actually think about it. Something that we'd been hoping for, for quite some time, was given to us, and in just two weeks' time was taken away. Given some time to think about it, I know it was for the best and God always knows what he's doing, but it still hurts when He takes people away from you, especially before you get a chance to meet them.
Oh! And a big thing that happened which allowed us the ability for the above-mentioned items. My wife and I quit smoking. As of this writing, it has been 1 year, 1 month and 2 days for me. As of late I have been having days where I really crave some, but not enough to throw away a year's worth of being able to say I'm a non-smoker. Most of that is due to poorly managed stress, so if I can find a way to better manage my stress, I think the cravings will stop altogether. I couldn't have done it without Chantix and the fact that my wife wanted to quit as well. Guarantees if that weren't the case we'd both still be smokers. But oh what a world of possibility being a non-smoker opens up.
I have a problem, well, actually, something I'd just like to discuss as it has infested my life lately, but as this seems to be more of a catch-up post, I think I'll give that its own post. I'd like to dive more in depth into the topic, and I don't feel like that can be done with this post here. Plus I mean come on, we're 3 months into the year already and I ain't post nothin yet.
Well that's not true.
Off the top of my head I can think of a few, that I just never found the time to write about...or...in my case...was too distracted by other necessary things to procure the time to write about.
I had planned a blog post called "A Little More Yeast", as a sequel to my excursions in yeast, in which I would talk about my adventures in brewing - specifically, I brewed a clone of New Glarus Brewery's Spotted Cow (famous here in Wisconsin), and I also made a batch of Dandelion Wine.
Yeah that never happened. And by that I mean the blog post; the actual brewing occurred mid-year.
In August my family and I took a weeklong family vacation, something we have never been able to do. We went to Mackinaw City, Michigan and had a wonderful time. We will have to go back when I find my dream job and/or money is no longer (or much less of) an object.
In April we bought a Jeep. I have a higher car payment now, but I'll take the car payment over having to worry about car repairs. Being a single car family (in this town at least) really sucks, but I've been making do since October of 2016. Public transportation in this area is lacking, save for a bus, which I rode once, but honestly, I got spoiled by the Metra/CTA of Chicago.
Late March I got introduced to Rhett and Link via Good Mythical Morning, and it could not have come at a better time. Just two weeks prior, my family and I suffered a loss. Something that subconsciously may have been the cause of my apathy of last year and which may have sparked another round of depression, now that I actually think about it. Something that we'd been hoping for, for quite some time, was given to us, and in just two weeks' time was taken away. Given some time to think about it, I know it was for the best and God always knows what he's doing, but it still hurts when He takes people away from you, especially before you get a chance to meet them.
Oh! And a big thing that happened which allowed us the ability for the above-mentioned items. My wife and I quit smoking. As of this writing, it has been 1 year, 1 month and 2 days for me. As of late I have been having days where I really crave some, but not enough to throw away a year's worth of being able to say I'm a non-smoker. Most of that is due to poorly managed stress, so if I can find a way to better manage my stress, I think the cravings will stop altogether. I couldn't have done it without Chantix and the fact that my wife wanted to quit as well. Guarantees if that weren't the case we'd both still be smokers. But oh what a world of possibility being a non-smoker opens up.
I have a problem, well, actually, something I'd just like to discuss as it has infested my life lately, but as this seems to be more of a catch-up post, I think I'll give that its own post. I'd like to dive more in depth into the topic, and I don't feel like that can be done with this post here. Plus I mean come on, we're 3 months into the year already and I ain't post nothin yet.
Friday, January 27, 2017
Blocked and Deleted
What is it about Facebook...it truly does mess with people's heads. I'll grant you it can be a useful tool in staying connected with people, but I've increasingly been finding out that it's more in my head than I'd like for it to be.
Recently I've discovered that I've been blocked and deleted by a number of people. Two in particular left me with a "what the f" feeling. And really it shouldn't bother me as much as it seems to be.
So why does it?
I've made mention of the false reality Facebook creates, leading others to look at their timeline comparatively. "Oh so and so just got back from vacation", "This person just got a new car", "That person just put their two weeks in because they just got offered a fabulous job", so many people seemingly enjoying their lives and living way more fabulously than you could ever dream to, and then you sit and take stock of your life and become disappointed. And this is the definition of social media?
(Whoa, get off your soap box. You're going to be sharing this post via Facebook)
When I had my hands busy knitting and working on Christmas projects, I found little time for Facebook and this did not bother me one bit. But now that I've slowed down on that, Facebook once again sinks its time-stealing claws into my mind and it is then that I'd discovered the whole blocked and deleted nonsense.
But now back to my original question: why does it even bother me? It shouldn't. Admittedly my posts as of late tend to be a little left-of-center, which doesn't exactly mesh well with some of my right-leaning friends, and since you can now see things that other people like as opposed to what they just post, people can see that I merely liked things that are a bit Catholic in nature, which doesn't exactly mesh well with some of my more evangelical-leaning friends.
At the same time, I am neither staging a Lenin-esque takeover nor am I proselytizing, so their blocking and deleting really comes down to their narrow-minded insecurities and do I really want that in my life anyway? It's almost as if I'm taking each unfriend or block/delete as a personal attack for which vengeance is necessary. (Okay that was a bit dramatic, at least the last part. I apologize.)
In all honesty, it's more like a bee sting (although I am allergic). Now that I've given it a few days, the initial sting has passed and I'm soothing myself with the Benadryl cream of "you don't want that kind of negativity in your life anyway".
But still, for something to have such a profound effect on one's psyche, says a lot about the subliminal power of the Facebook.
Poster beware.
Recently I've discovered that I've been blocked and deleted by a number of people. Two in particular left me with a "what the f" feeling. And really it shouldn't bother me as much as it seems to be.
So why does it?
I've made mention of the false reality Facebook creates, leading others to look at their timeline comparatively. "Oh so and so just got back from vacation", "This person just got a new car", "That person just put their two weeks in because they just got offered a fabulous job", so many people seemingly enjoying their lives and living way more fabulously than you could ever dream to, and then you sit and take stock of your life and become disappointed. And this is the definition of social media?
(Whoa, get off your soap box. You're going to be sharing this post via Facebook)
When I had my hands busy knitting and working on Christmas projects, I found little time for Facebook and this did not bother me one bit. But now that I've slowed down on that, Facebook once again sinks its time-stealing claws into my mind and it is then that I'd discovered the whole blocked and deleted nonsense.
But now back to my original question: why does it even bother me? It shouldn't. Admittedly my posts as of late tend to be a little left-of-center, which doesn't exactly mesh well with some of my right-leaning friends, and since you can now see things that other people like as opposed to what they just post, people can see that I merely liked things that are a bit Catholic in nature, which doesn't exactly mesh well with some of my more evangelical-leaning friends.
At the same time, I am neither staging a Lenin-esque takeover nor am I proselytizing, so their blocking and deleting really comes down to their narrow-minded insecurities and do I really want that in my life anyway? It's almost as if I'm taking each unfriend or block/delete as a personal attack for which vengeance is necessary. (Okay that was a bit dramatic, at least the last part. I apologize.)
In all honesty, it's more like a bee sting (although I am allergic). Now that I've given it a few days, the initial sting has passed and I'm soothing myself with the Benadryl cream of "you don't want that kind of negativity in your life anyway".
But still, for something to have such a profound effect on one's psyche, says a lot about the subliminal power of the Facebook.
Poster beware.
Friday, January 13, 2017
January: The Traditional Cold, Grey Bucket of Suck
I have to say it's nice to be back. I took a couple months. For the month of November, I tried my hand at my first NaNoWriMo, and while I regret to inform you that I was not able to make the 50,000 word quota by November 30th, I am pleased to inform you that I nonetheless was able to come up with what I feel is a kickass story, (but then I am kind of biased). My inner monologue makes a return in my parenthetical quotes, you'll notice.
Sadly, I only made about 22,000 words, but even through all that I consider it a success, as prior to November 2016, I was unable to come up with more than 5 pages of writing that wasn't a school paper (which, incidentally enough I found out that this blog led one of my fellow students to actually plagiarize my paper on indifference that I had posted here and have to now make private).
Also during my two-month (and a half) hiatus, I busied myself with a couple new hobbies. I began working with yeast (as is alluded to in my previous entry); I got myself a bread machine that my mother was not using and which, in my household, has been used more than it has been in the decade or so it was under her ownership. I've made breads in there as well as some homemade ciabatta bread, (the crumbs of one loaf are still in a bowl awaiting to be made into either bread pudding or a stuffing dish)
I also took up knitting. (Yes...knitting. Men can knit too. Knitting, I'm told, used to be particularly male-dominated, but suffice it to say, men can knit too. More on that in a future post). I started simple - I made my wife a scarf, and one for my sister-in-law and one for my friend who has defeated cancer. That ballooned to a straight month of knitting scarves, 24 in total. It's just so quick and easy. Then I tried to make a dish rag and let me just state, from a dude's point of view, and a left hander's point of view, the purl stitch can suck it. Ain't nobody got time to dig under the top stitch and grab the bottom and pull through.
I also finished my plastic canvas ornaments, a self-professed tradition my great grandmother had going on when I was a kid, and which she ended the Christmas of 1989 due to her death in August of 1990. Pictures to follow in another post so as not to bog this one down. A brief rundown though, in 2004, after 15 years having passed since her last ornament, I took it upon myself to make a commemorative replica (or a new word I've recently learned, a pastiche) of the ornaments she used to make. I don't know if it was a tradition of hers or not, I just know that the older 3 cousins of the family (which includes myself) received a handmade ornament from her for Christmas.
This seems the perfect segue to my topic for this post : Tradition. I myself quite like the idea of tradition. I admire close-knit families that have traditions that keep them closely knit and together (wow paralleling my newly-discovered knitting hobby much?) Perhaps it's because my family, sadly, doesn't seem to have very many traditions. Even my grandmother admitted, before she died, that there weren't many (if any) traditions when I'd asked her in an attempt to revive forgotten traditions.
Now there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes having no traditions can probably be in itself a tradition. And regardless of that, all traditions begin somewhere, or somewhen. Also true is the fact that it is never too late to start traditions. And it doesn't even have to be some Old World tradition that one's ancestors used to do generations ago "back in the old country" either. Admittedly, that had been my fascination in past years, especially since the death of my grandma who was predominantly Polish.
A death of a central family figure creates a devoid, a vacuum of sorts. Sometimes that death creates what I'm calling a "Diaspora Effect" on a family. Sometimes it's not a death at all; sometimes people just move away. Experience and firsthand witness has taught me that it's much easier to maintain a close knit when the family is located in one general vicinity, if not the same city. And sometimes, we find ourselves just naturally closer to one portion of the family than the other. Sometimes we also go through an exorbitant "teenage drama phase" and distance ourselves from our families. Sometimes, it's a combination of all of that which creates a perfect storm of family unraveling. But I digress...
Sometimes one central figure becomes the glue that holds a family together, and when that person departs in one way or another, it can become very difficult to stop the inevitable unraveling. It's sad to witness, it's sad to describe. It becomes necessary to then stop at that crossroads and evaluate whether or not it's time to detach and start knitting your own "close-knit-ness", for lack of better words. If it becomes especially hard to knit back together that unraveled or unraveling heap, then the answer is pretty clear.
It takes more than one person to want to keep an unraveling family from falling apart and completely dispersing. But then, families can surprise you, too.
So posting on a Friday the 13th, right!!! Admittedly, my absence from blogging and coming back to it opens up fresh ideas in what WheezyWaiter calls my "mindbrain". Blogging isn't the first thing I've come back to after a period of hiatus-ing...I've also started working on school stuff as well, as my 4th Term for my AA has begun as of January 1st. I am determined, and I know I've said this before, that this will be my last term. By June 30, I resolve to have completed and earned my AA, maybe even venture to New Hampshire to march across the stage and receive my degree in person. That might be a bit lofty, but the finishing of the degree not so much. It's only 44 credits...
(I just scrolled up to realize I've had a lot to say in this post) (Parenthetical side note: I just went down to refill my coffee and found myself uttering to myself, "That's one full ass cup of coffee.")
So we celebrated our first New Year's at Little Townhouse on the Prairie...and while me typing that brings about a certain sense of deja vu...(and yes I will be looking back at my posts of January 2016 to see if I've typed something similar, and maybe for that sense of nostalgia), I have to say it combined with my Christmas was actually refreshingly low-key. Even with no traditions, except for one that I started, since we had more time on Christmas Eve (as we had one less Christmas to go to this year), I read my oldest The Polar Express when we got back, took the kids to the light show at the park, and set out cookies and milk (or, Mocha Coffee Drink) for Santa.
So here's to the first post of 2017, 26 more to go! (in order to beat last year's post total of 26 because yeah that's a thing.) Next post I'll low key talk about some heavier things...unless I'm inspired to write something else. It's just good to be back :)
Sadly, I only made about 22,000 words, but even through all that I consider it a success, as prior to November 2016, I was unable to come up with more than 5 pages of writing that wasn't a school paper (which, incidentally enough I found out that this blog led one of my fellow students to actually plagiarize my paper on indifference that I had posted here and have to now make private).
Also during my two-month (and a half) hiatus, I busied myself with a couple new hobbies. I began working with yeast (as is alluded to in my previous entry); I got myself a bread machine that my mother was not using and which, in my household, has been used more than it has been in the decade or so it was under her ownership. I've made breads in there as well as some homemade ciabatta bread, (the crumbs of one loaf are still in a bowl awaiting to be made into either bread pudding or a stuffing dish)
I also took up knitting. (Yes...knitting. Men can knit too. Knitting, I'm told, used to be particularly male-dominated, but suffice it to say, men can knit too. More on that in a future post). I started simple - I made my wife a scarf, and one for my sister-in-law and one for my friend who has defeated cancer. That ballooned to a straight month of knitting scarves, 24 in total. It's just so quick and easy. Then I tried to make a dish rag and let me just state, from a dude's point of view, and a left hander's point of view, the purl stitch can suck it. Ain't nobody got time to dig under the top stitch and grab the bottom and pull through.
I also finished my plastic canvas ornaments, a self-professed tradition my great grandmother had going on when I was a kid, and which she ended the Christmas of 1989 due to her death in August of 1990. Pictures to follow in another post so as not to bog this one down. A brief rundown though, in 2004, after 15 years having passed since her last ornament, I took it upon myself to make a commemorative replica (or a new word I've recently learned, a pastiche) of the ornaments she used to make. I don't know if it was a tradition of hers or not, I just know that the older 3 cousins of the family (which includes myself) received a handmade ornament from her for Christmas.
This seems the perfect segue to my topic for this post : Tradition. I myself quite like the idea of tradition. I admire close-knit families that have traditions that keep them closely knit and together (wow paralleling my newly-discovered knitting hobby much?) Perhaps it's because my family, sadly, doesn't seem to have very many traditions. Even my grandmother admitted, before she died, that there weren't many (if any) traditions when I'd asked her in an attempt to revive forgotten traditions.
Now there's nothing wrong with that. Sometimes having no traditions can probably be in itself a tradition. And regardless of that, all traditions begin somewhere, or somewhen. Also true is the fact that it is never too late to start traditions. And it doesn't even have to be some Old World tradition that one's ancestors used to do generations ago "back in the old country" either. Admittedly, that had been my fascination in past years, especially since the death of my grandma who was predominantly Polish.
A death of a central family figure creates a devoid, a vacuum of sorts. Sometimes that death creates what I'm calling a "Diaspora Effect" on a family. Sometimes it's not a death at all; sometimes people just move away. Experience and firsthand witness has taught me that it's much easier to maintain a close knit when the family is located in one general vicinity, if not the same city. And sometimes, we find ourselves just naturally closer to one portion of the family than the other. Sometimes we also go through an exorbitant "teenage drama phase" and distance ourselves from our families. Sometimes, it's a combination of all of that which creates a perfect storm of family unraveling. But I digress...
Sometimes one central figure becomes the glue that holds a family together, and when that person departs in one way or another, it can become very difficult to stop the inevitable unraveling. It's sad to witness, it's sad to describe. It becomes necessary to then stop at that crossroads and evaluate whether or not it's time to detach and start knitting your own "close-knit-ness", for lack of better words. If it becomes especially hard to knit back together that unraveled or unraveling heap, then the answer is pretty clear.
It takes more than one person to want to keep an unraveling family from falling apart and completely dispersing. But then, families can surprise you, too.
So posting on a Friday the 13th, right!!! Admittedly, my absence from blogging and coming back to it opens up fresh ideas in what WheezyWaiter calls my "mindbrain". Blogging isn't the first thing I've come back to after a period of hiatus-ing...I've also started working on school stuff as well, as my 4th Term for my AA has begun as of January 1st. I am determined, and I know I've said this before, that this will be my last term. By June 30, I resolve to have completed and earned my AA, maybe even venture to New Hampshire to march across the stage and receive my degree in person. That might be a bit lofty, but the finishing of the degree not so much. It's only 44 credits...
(I just scrolled up to realize I've had a lot to say in this post) (Parenthetical side note: I just went down to refill my coffee and found myself uttering to myself, "That's one full ass cup of coffee.")
So we celebrated our first New Year's at Little Townhouse on the Prairie...and while me typing that brings about a certain sense of deja vu...(and yes I will be looking back at my posts of January 2016 to see if I've typed something similar, and maybe for that sense of nostalgia), I have to say it combined with my Christmas was actually refreshingly low-key. Even with no traditions, except for one that I started, since we had more time on Christmas Eve (as we had one less Christmas to go to this year), I read my oldest The Polar Express when we got back, took the kids to the light show at the park, and set out cookies and milk (or, Mocha Coffee Drink) for Santa.
So here's to the first post of 2017, 26 more to go! (in order to beat last year's post total of 26 because yeah that's a thing.) Next post I'll low key talk about some heavier things...unless I'm inspired to write something else. It's just good to be back :)
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Little Townhouse on the Prairie Part 5 - A Little Yeast...
Taking a short break from NaNoWriMo to get into the kitchen. The last time I made a yeast bread, a ciabatta loaf no less, was about 2012-2013, at the Old Old house in the North of town. I am (or at least, WAS) a killer of yeast. I think the water was either too hot or too cold, and yeast intimidated me. This weekend I've used 2 packages of active dry yeast and dang.
I started by making an Amish Friendship Bread Starter, that if it keeps going the way it is, will give me about 7 starters. The recipe did state that making it from scratch will be a more active starter, so expect a lot more. What's even better is I found an Amish Friendship Bread Sourdough recipe that I'm dying to try...in 9 days when the starter is complete. And today I have a Bama Bowl of Ciabatta, recipe here. Ciabatta that I just turned after the first rising.
It's true, a little yeast leavens the entire loaf. I know that context is to be taken to talk about sin...but in my case, it's turned me into a Yeast-aholic.
I didn't stop there. Saturday morning my 3 year old and I made Snickerdoodles, without cream of tartar. LOVE. Dinner was a chicken bacon cheddar ranch goop that was actually pretty tasty. Today I am in the process of making 2 Pumpkin Loaves. Oh and I roasted both of my butternut squashes for future use. Yes, writing and cooking are my true passions.
Stay tuned, more to come. And interestingly enough my yeast bread baking has inspired me for a portion of my NaNoWriMo story!! But as I did not say "Spoiler Alert" in the beginning of this post, I will stop there.
And those Snickerdoodles...yeah out of three dozen they're almost gone. Very chewy for no cream of tartar, I actually love this recipe.
I started by making an Amish Friendship Bread Starter, that if it keeps going the way it is, will give me about 7 starters. The recipe did state that making it from scratch will be a more active starter, so expect a lot more. What's even better is I found an Amish Friendship Bread Sourdough recipe that I'm dying to try...in 9 days when the starter is complete. And today I have a Bama Bowl of Ciabatta, recipe here. Ciabatta that I just turned after the first rising.
It's true, a little yeast leavens the entire loaf. I know that context is to be taken to talk about sin...but in my case, it's turned me into a Yeast-aholic.
I didn't stop there. Saturday morning my 3 year old and I made Snickerdoodles, without cream of tartar. LOVE. Dinner was a chicken bacon cheddar ranch goop that was actually pretty tasty. Today I am in the process of making 2 Pumpkin Loaves. Oh and I roasted both of my butternut squashes for future use. Yes, writing and cooking are my true passions.
Stay tuned, more to come. And interestingly enough my yeast bread baking has inspired me for a portion of my NaNoWriMo story!! But as I did not say "Spoiler Alert" in the beginning of this post, I will stop there.
And those Snickerdoodles...yeah out of three dozen they're almost gone. Very chewy for no cream of tartar, I actually love this recipe.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Little Townhouse on the Prairie Part 4 - A New Season
I have to start with a quip. So I let my inner Wisconsinite out the other day. At a stop-n-go light an SUV (which I would later learn was from Illinois) pulled up and the passenger asked out their window how to get to the Culver's. my inner monologue said "Oh you is going the way wrong way." But I replied, "OK so you turn left here, you get to the stop and go light and hang a left and just keep going. It's gonna be right next to a BMO Harris bank on your left." They probably still got lost because at first I told them to turn around and go left at the roundabout but then corrected myself because it would have been easier to just turn left than to turn around, especially since they were in a left turn lane. Wherever this adventure of life lands me, I will always be a Wisconsinite at heart. Except for the fact that I would help them regardless of the fact of knowing they came from Illinois. Though admittedly, the Wisconsin Department of Transportation could do a lot more to ensure motorists on the interstate would not get lost whilst getting off to eat. But then they should have thought about that before building a concrete wall around the city...but I digress.
So the growing season is over. And the results are in. The bunnies in my general vicinity are very well this summer. A wise farmer once told me that a farmer figures on 10% ish of their crop will go to the wildlife. In my case, I consumed about 10% of my crop. Ah well...I don't think farming genes run in any of my family history...save for maybe one or two. We're city-dwelling workers, not workers of the land apparently.
Admittedly as of late it'd been a while since I got into the kitchen and made anything more than a nightly meal. Since the second week of September at least one person in my household has been sick. Lord willing we have kicked the virus or illness or what have you, out of the Little Townhouse, and are moving forward.
I have to say, I felt a rush - the same rush that I feel when I sit down to write - when I got back into the kitchen. It all started with me wanting to use my bread machine. Not currently listed on my resume is Murderer of Yeast. I have successfully made one loaf of yeast bread in my life. It was a Ciabatta Loaf, and Oh My Expletive was it good. Well I don't have yeast currently, and so I found a recipe that was for a "Country Loaf". It was flour, baking powder, salt, "Any Liquid" and "Any Liquid Fat"...I jumped on that, as I had a bottle of Hard Apple Cider that was just sitting in my fridge and wouldn't you know it, was exactly the amount needed for this loaf. End result - Not too bad!
I didn't stop there. I have (or, Had...) exactly 1/3 cup of sugar in my entire kitchen. So I did what any sane person would have done and made coconut macaroons with them, which of course needed exactly 1/3 cup sugar. Seems to be a healthier alternative to regular cookies, as there's only 1/3 cup of sugar, and whatever added sugar was in the shredded coconut. Didn't have time to scientifically do that math or anything but let's just assume they are.
Also made some meatballs, since i had 2 egg yolks after the macaroon matter. I was so excited about them, except they turned pasty. I mean 2 out of 3 though...Meatloaf said it best.
So that true passion thing...perhaps I can just add cooking to it too. Writing and cooking. I can be okay with that. Of course, I will be adding more, as Christmas is coming (and the goose is.....ok too soon for Christmas Carols), and I do like making me some Christmas Crafts! Little Townhouse on the Prairie continues into the Fall and Winter!! Here we go.
So the growing season is over. And the results are in. The bunnies in my general vicinity are very well this summer. A wise farmer once told me that a farmer figures on 10% ish of their crop will go to the wildlife. In my case, I consumed about 10% of my crop. Ah well...I don't think farming genes run in any of my family history...save for maybe one or two. We're city-dwelling workers, not workers of the land apparently.
Admittedly as of late it'd been a while since I got into the kitchen and made anything more than a nightly meal. Since the second week of September at least one person in my household has been sick. Lord willing we have kicked the virus or illness or what have you, out of the Little Townhouse, and are moving forward.
I have to say, I felt a rush - the same rush that I feel when I sit down to write - when I got back into the kitchen. It all started with me wanting to use my bread machine. Not currently listed on my resume is Murderer of Yeast. I have successfully made one loaf of yeast bread in my life. It was a Ciabatta Loaf, and Oh My Expletive was it good. Well I don't have yeast currently, and so I found a recipe that was for a "Country Loaf". It was flour, baking powder, salt, "Any Liquid" and "Any Liquid Fat"...I jumped on that, as I had a bottle of Hard Apple Cider that was just sitting in my fridge and wouldn't you know it, was exactly the amount needed for this loaf. End result - Not too bad!
I didn't stop there. I have (or, Had...) exactly 1/3 cup of sugar in my entire kitchen. So I did what any sane person would have done and made coconut macaroons with them, which of course needed exactly 1/3 cup sugar. Seems to be a healthier alternative to regular cookies, as there's only 1/3 cup of sugar, and whatever added sugar was in the shredded coconut. Didn't have time to scientifically do that math or anything but let's just assume they are.
Also made some meatballs, since i had 2 egg yolks after the macaroon matter. I was so excited about them, except they turned pasty. I mean 2 out of 3 though...Meatloaf said it best.
So that true passion thing...perhaps I can just add cooking to it too. Writing and cooking. I can be okay with that. Of course, I will be adding more, as Christmas is coming (and the goose is.....ok too soon for Christmas Carols), and I do like making me some Christmas Crafts! Little Townhouse on the Prairie continues into the Fall and Winter!! Here we go.
Friday, October 21, 2016
Comparative Epitaphs
Lately I've been thinking about true passions. The thought has come to me, "What will your epitaph read?" "When you die, and your children and grandchildren have to write your obituary...what will they say?"
Immediately I think to myself "I do not want them to write 'he was a claims adjudicator for X amount of years." So why then, am I still a claims adjudicator? Well the short answer is good intentions not only pave the road to hell, but they certainly do not pay the rent. If I knew I could write a novel and my family would never know want (hyperbolically speaking), I would turn in my two weeks and never look back. Or, at least, I would write that novel and then turn in my two weeks.
That then brings the subject up of duty vs passion. It is said that if one does what they love, they will never work a day in their lives. I find myself working 50 hours a week in what I would describe (in a not complaining tone) as a position that does not utilize my talents to the best of my ability. And I think that's where this period of reflection, this discernment of my true passion, stems from. This, of course, led to The Choice for Awesome. And, failing to achieve my goal there, a step back in reflection of figuring out just what I am good at. It's easy to sit here and say "I'm not using my talents to the best of my ability", but what exact talents am I speaking of? Without an answer this just becomes a clever way of saying "I hate my job and I want a new one, a better paying one."
To paraphrase Stevie Nicks, what dreams do I have to sell? Definitely not dreams of loneliness.
There is something to be said about being too dutiful. It sucks the life right out of you. It kills your passions, it kills your sense of self...but hey, on the bright side, it pays the bills so you can continue to live your mediocre life on repeat. (That was overly cynical, tell me how you really feel)
Without sounding too much like Ariel (I want to be where the people are, I want to see, want to see them dancing...whoa just typing that it sounds creeperish but I needed to explain my metaphor because not everyone gets my sense of humor), I want to have the kind of job that utilizes what I know I'm good at, and/or what I enjoy doing. I like writing (although the verdict is out on whether or not I'm particularly good at it). I like cooking (same parenthetical remark as before applies). Photography. History, Genealogy, haven't we been through this before?
So there's that. A resolution: I need to make a better use of all the free time I can, which probably will consist of after bed time, but nonetheless, utilize it better, to foster my writing. I need to make it happen. Yes, it's been a while since I actually wrote wrote anything. But to start again, I simply need to just do it. I need to grab it by the --- (wait, that's beginning to sound too Trump-esque).
(Come on now, I can't infuse my blog posts with a bit of pop culture to make them a little more interesting to the handful of readers I actually have?)
My first novel is only a blank page away.
A piece of advice I will leave you with. If you're like me...when you scroll on your Facebook feed and you come across people you went to school with...don't click and scroll and see what they've been up to since you were in school, unless you want to truly reconnect. ESPECIALLY if you're experiencing the kind of wanderlust, if you will...(OK maybe wanderlust isn't the exact word I'm looking for). But it's a classic example of how social media makes you feel...I don't know, sorry for yourself? You see where these people are, what they've done, and then you look at your own life comparatively. I don't think I have to go further into detail, if you've been reading my last few posts.
It can be a good thing, it can spark a sense of urgency, if you will. It can spark you to want to do something more. And admittedly, it has. But the pangs of knowing I'm just where I was 10, 12, 15, 21 years ago (exformation intended for reasons I've just divulged), and to know it is at least for the time being, out of my control...you get the point. Social media though...it's supposed to be a connective tool that brings people together, makes the world a bit smaller...Maybe it's just the election, but it's in all actuality a very cold and lonely thing. And yet, we are still addicted to that thumb scrolling joy sucker. We just want to be part of their world...(what did I say about sounding like Ariel???) Anyway back to the point. Facebook sucks joy. So don't do it.
It might just be a hindrance to creating your own joy.
Immediately I think to myself "I do not want them to write 'he was a claims adjudicator for X amount of years." So why then, am I still a claims adjudicator? Well the short answer is good intentions not only pave the road to hell, but they certainly do not pay the rent. If I knew I could write a novel and my family would never know want (hyperbolically speaking), I would turn in my two weeks and never look back. Or, at least, I would write that novel and then turn in my two weeks.
That then brings the subject up of duty vs passion. It is said that if one does what they love, they will never work a day in their lives. I find myself working 50 hours a week in what I would describe (in a not complaining tone) as a position that does not utilize my talents to the best of my ability. And I think that's where this period of reflection, this discernment of my true passion, stems from. This, of course, led to The Choice for Awesome. And, failing to achieve my goal there, a step back in reflection of figuring out just what I am good at. It's easy to sit here and say "I'm not using my talents to the best of my ability", but what exact talents am I speaking of? Without an answer this just becomes a clever way of saying "I hate my job and I want a new one, a better paying one."
To paraphrase Stevie Nicks, what dreams do I have to sell? Definitely not dreams of loneliness.
There is something to be said about being too dutiful. It sucks the life right out of you. It kills your passions, it kills your sense of self...but hey, on the bright side, it pays the bills so you can continue to live your mediocre life on repeat. (That was overly cynical, tell me how you really feel)
Without sounding too much like Ariel (I want to be where the people are, I want to see, want to see them dancing...whoa just typing that it sounds creeperish but I needed to explain my metaphor because not everyone gets my sense of humor), I want to have the kind of job that utilizes what I know I'm good at, and/or what I enjoy doing. I like writing (although the verdict is out on whether or not I'm particularly good at it). I like cooking (same parenthetical remark as before applies). Photography. History, Genealogy, haven't we been through this before?
So there's that. A resolution: I need to make a better use of all the free time I can, which probably will consist of after bed time, but nonetheless, utilize it better, to foster my writing. I need to make it happen. Yes, it's been a while since I actually wrote wrote anything. But to start again, I simply need to just do it. I need to grab it by the --- (wait, that's beginning to sound too Trump-esque).
(Come on now, I can't infuse my blog posts with a bit of pop culture to make them a little more interesting to the handful of readers I actually have?)
My first novel is only a blank page away.
A piece of advice I will leave you with. If you're like me...when you scroll on your Facebook feed and you come across people you went to school with...don't click and scroll and see what they've been up to since you were in school, unless you want to truly reconnect. ESPECIALLY if you're experiencing the kind of wanderlust, if you will...(OK maybe wanderlust isn't the exact word I'm looking for). But it's a classic example of how social media makes you feel...I don't know, sorry for yourself? You see where these people are, what they've done, and then you look at your own life comparatively. I don't think I have to go further into detail, if you've been reading my last few posts.
It can be a good thing, it can spark a sense of urgency, if you will. It can spark you to want to do something more. And admittedly, it has. But the pangs of knowing I'm just where I was 10, 12, 15, 21 years ago (exformation intended for reasons I've just divulged), and to know it is at least for the time being, out of my control...you get the point. Social media though...it's supposed to be a connective tool that brings people together, makes the world a bit smaller...Maybe it's just the election, but it's in all actuality a very cold and lonely thing. And yet, we are still addicted to that thumb scrolling joy sucker. We just want to be part of their world...(what did I say about sounding like Ariel???) Anyway back to the point. Facebook sucks joy. So don't do it.
It might just be a hindrance to creating your own joy.
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