Habit although not a sexy concept is actually necessary for creating strong relationships. There is nothing like seeing someone or talking to someone on a regular basis to foster a sense of closeness. In college I often lived in the same dorm as my friends and ate dinner with them every evening. After graduation we all went our own way and no matter how you look at it we are not as close as we once were. I have no idea what each of my friend eats each night, although I do remember which friend nurses a coffee after dinner, which friend dislikes tomatoes, which one doesn't like sour cream and which friend that eats vegetables by choice. Do they still have the same food preferences? This I am not sure of, but if I were in contact with them on a consistent basis perhaps I would be. I haven't actually communicated with any of them for a while other than sending a holiday card. This is a stage in life when friends that live hundreds of miles away usually take a backburner to working on developing a family and local network of friends and career.
When you fall out of step of meeting up with someone or communicating with them your connection loosens and perhaps slips. Some friendships can survive such distance depending on the level of desire to maintain such friendship on both ends, but most simply disappear until one day you no longer know the friend you once knew so well and they fade into a stranger. Therefore of all commitments of time the most important and vital--outside of those to remain vibrantly, authentically ourselves--are those to others we want to remain in our lives. You have to invest consistently into such relationships and they are work...no relationship is without work as much as we wish to delude ourselves. Some seem easier at times. Other times it is hard to push yourself to keep in touch, or at least it is for me because of one reason or another...low energy for instance. You have to consider though--and I am again taking stock what with the new year--who you want in your life and how to strengthen or revitalize slackening bonds.
Tuesday, January 08, 2008
Monday, January 07, 2008
Sunday Dinner II
I made Sunday dinner last night as it was obviously Sunday. I had intentions of taking pictures, but by the time I finish cooking, I am too tired to nicely plate the food and photograph it--I only want to feed the grumbling masses. I am a bit dismayed by my lack of follow through, but there you have it.
Each Sunday is an experiment trying all new recipes and more often than not the product is good, but time beats me up. In fact the average Sunday dinner takes 2-4 hours of cooking and I know that my time management, organization skills and my cooking knowledge & experience could be honed to shorten the time. I am still a relative novice though prone to mistakes...not soaking beans the night before for instance.
Last night's meal:
Cayenne rubbed chicken breasts with avocado-onion salsa (cover recipe of January/February 2008 Everyday Food)
Ultimate Black Beans (February 2008 Cuisine at Home)
Sweet Potatoes with Honey-Lime Glaze (February 2008 Cuisine at Home)
I did experience a headache most of the time I was cooking the beans (begun around 3:30 and served at 8:00) because of the strong onion and garlic smell, but they were very tasty especially topped with queso fresco and few extra shakes of Tabasco.
The glaze for the roasted sweet potatoes was especially wonderful and I wonder if I could use it on nuts with the addition of some cayenne pepper....
As for the chicken breasts, I added much more rubbing seasoning the recipe called for (I ended up practically tripling it)--perhaps because the chicken breasts were large or just because I have a much heavier hand, but regardless of whether I added too much seasoning (according to my sister the chicken was too salty to her taste, but then again she likes less salt than many) or not the avocado salsa tempered the heat and saltiness perfectly (even in my sister's opinion).
In the end, I would happily eat any of the dishes again, although I may need to vacate the kitchen for most of the simmering of the beans or take pills before hand.
Each Sunday is an experiment trying all new recipes and more often than not the product is good, but time beats me up. In fact the average Sunday dinner takes 2-4 hours of cooking and I know that my time management, organization skills and my cooking knowledge & experience could be honed to shorten the time. I am still a relative novice though prone to mistakes...not soaking beans the night before for instance.
Last night's meal:
Cayenne rubbed chicken breasts with avocado-onion salsa (cover recipe of January/February 2008 Everyday Food)
Ultimate Black Beans (February 2008 Cuisine at Home)
Sweet Potatoes with Honey-Lime Glaze (February 2008 Cuisine at Home)
I did experience a headache most of the time I was cooking the beans (begun around 3:30 and served at 8:00) because of the strong onion and garlic smell, but they were very tasty especially topped with queso fresco and few extra shakes of Tabasco.
The glaze for the roasted sweet potatoes was especially wonderful and I wonder if I could use it on nuts with the addition of some cayenne pepper....
As for the chicken breasts, I added much more rubbing seasoning the recipe called for (I ended up practically tripling it)--perhaps because the chicken breasts were large or just because I have a much heavier hand, but regardless of whether I added too much seasoning (according to my sister the chicken was too salty to her taste, but then again she likes less salt than many) or not the avocado salsa tempered the heat and saltiness perfectly (even in my sister's opinion).
In the end, I would happily eat any of the dishes again, although I may need to vacate the kitchen for most of the simmering of the beans or take pills before hand.
Friday, January 04, 2008
Much Rambling and Many Questions
I have been thinking a lot about writing lately. For many years I have had the desire to write a novel. Most of my friends are aware that I have a love for historical romance and have been attempting to write a novel in that genre with questionable dedication.
I opened up some files containing bits of stories or even a decent start to one version of a story I have been rewriting for nearly half my life. I laughed at the ludicrous melodrama and nearly schoolgirl-like descriptions and interactions between characters. I found some interesting parts of each story, but again they are all wrong and obviously contrived. The voice isn't really mine, the plots unclear to me, the characters too flat and shallow and so on and so forth.
Last night I wrote a page of questions for myself in the hopes I could strip away all the crap and get to the truth of the matter. Perhaps most important of all questions is: Why do I write? All other questions stem from that simple, yet profound question. Sometimes I wonder at my motivation to write. I have encountered masterly storytellers who weave seductive, magical, glittering worlds and people with breathtaking capacity to evoke emotions, images and thoughts with words and I am neither the former nor latter. Still, I have been told I am a good writer at various points in my life.
Writing does require more than weaving a story or evoking emotions though...it requires the ability to convey mundane and jarring truths. Do I know enough of human nature? Do I know a place enough to share all it's charms, idiosyncrasies, the underbelly, how a person is shaped by the character of the land or city in which he or she lives? Have I been a keen observer or lost in my own delusions and fantasies? Do I actually listen? Do I really know anyone?
I am best at constructing questions for myself that are in all likelihood entirely unnecessary and a means to avoid doing, as I fear doing in many aspects. I fear not living up to the expectations of family and friends who believe in me. I fear not living up to my own dubious expectations. I actually fear writing a decent novel and the prospect of writing another and another with the expectation they will surpass the previous.
In the end, the fears and expectations are all meaningless and perhaps only doing is what matters. I have begun to see that any writing--here on this blog, in my personal journal, random notes, correspondence--is doing. I feel I am changing my perception of who I am, what my place is, where I wish to go, what I want to do, still I have a gnawing need to express myself. I write because I am freer and more assured in writing than in person. I am desperately uncertain and disjointed in person and will say things that boggle me in reflection for being so inaccurate, inarticulate and false. My body language is not fluid or natural because I feel my body is foreign—there is a disconnect from what I think and feel and what I do. I come off as aloof because I feel unable to express myself properly. In writing I am comfortable and I can in that moment be whole.
It is high time I integrate everything and be a bit less of an awkward, jittery marionette in person. I imagine that if I stopped detaching from and being ashamed of my body much would improve, even my writing. I can't even imagine the difference it would make, but it is well worth finding out....
I opened up some files containing bits of stories or even a decent start to one version of a story I have been rewriting for nearly half my life. I laughed at the ludicrous melodrama and nearly schoolgirl-like descriptions and interactions between characters. I found some interesting parts of each story, but again they are all wrong and obviously contrived. The voice isn't really mine, the plots unclear to me, the characters too flat and shallow and so on and so forth.
Last night I wrote a page of questions for myself in the hopes I could strip away all the crap and get to the truth of the matter. Perhaps most important of all questions is: Why do I write? All other questions stem from that simple, yet profound question. Sometimes I wonder at my motivation to write. I have encountered masterly storytellers who weave seductive, magical, glittering worlds and people with breathtaking capacity to evoke emotions, images and thoughts with words and I am neither the former nor latter. Still, I have been told I am a good writer at various points in my life.
Writing does require more than weaving a story or evoking emotions though...it requires the ability to convey mundane and jarring truths. Do I know enough of human nature? Do I know a place enough to share all it's charms, idiosyncrasies, the underbelly, how a person is shaped by the character of the land or city in which he or she lives? Have I been a keen observer or lost in my own delusions and fantasies? Do I actually listen? Do I really know anyone?
I am best at constructing questions for myself that are in all likelihood entirely unnecessary and a means to avoid doing, as I fear doing in many aspects. I fear not living up to the expectations of family and friends who believe in me. I fear not living up to my own dubious expectations. I actually fear writing a decent novel and the prospect of writing another and another with the expectation they will surpass the previous.
In the end, the fears and expectations are all meaningless and perhaps only doing is what matters. I have begun to see that any writing--here on this blog, in my personal journal, random notes, correspondence--is doing. I feel I am changing my perception of who I am, what my place is, where I wish to go, what I want to do, still I have a gnawing need to express myself. I write because I am freer and more assured in writing than in person. I am desperately uncertain and disjointed in person and will say things that boggle me in reflection for being so inaccurate, inarticulate and false. My body language is not fluid or natural because I feel my body is foreign—there is a disconnect from what I think and feel and what I do. I come off as aloof because I feel unable to express myself properly. In writing I am comfortable and I can in that moment be whole.
It is high time I integrate everything and be a bit less of an awkward, jittery marionette in person. I imagine that if I stopped detaching from and being ashamed of my body much would improve, even my writing. I can't even imagine the difference it would make, but it is well worth finding out....
Thursday, January 03, 2008
Holiday Catch-Up
I mentioned holiday cards quite often in my blog and I actually made a very few, carefully deciding on which friends (poor family are always the first to be shortchanged). I had already made invitations and invited my local friends to a holiday party so they were quite easy to cut from the list. Then I decided there were a few I had promised (and wanted to make, plus when I promise someone it helps to motivate me to actually do it) a handmade card. My creativity was limited this past year and stuck in tag form it seemed. They are an easy form to add to and embelish and yet you can use the end product as a bookmark, hang it on a door or even a tree (although it is rather large). As I thought they are very similar to the holiday invitations, but a bit different too. For each person I chose a word for them...sort of a hope or prayer for them and then I wrote something truly sappy on the reverse side. I do hope by this time they all received their card!
Wednesday, January 02, 2008
Happy New Year!
Perhaps you thought I had abandoned you, but that is not true. I tried to write posts in the month of December as things had happened and yet they were tepid attempts at best. As 2008 begins I wanted to make sure I ended the unintended silence.
I am not sure I believe in resolutions (probably because I don't follow through), but I do believe in having dreams and aspirations for the future. New Year's is a convenient time to begin anew. It's a lovely even date to begin charting the rest of your life. Still what it doesn't address is that each day you need to wake up and see it as a new start, a new beginning. A friend told me he sees New Year's as any other day and I think it is because he tries everyday to make it matter--he has no need to make resolutions...to have a wake up call to examine his life because he does it all the time. It is difficult to remain aware of your life, to be present for the mundane as well as the extraordinary, to listen to someone even as they wander into topics which bore you (say break fluid), to not want to rush through the slow parts to get to the more interesting ones....
Something wonderful occurred in 2007. I believe people come into your life for a purpose or rather that each person who enters your life can teach you something. There was someone who taught me (unbenownst to them!) that no matter how low I felt I still had hope and there was still something redeeming in me. This person also taught me to look at others and see that they too may hurt and need some simple kindness. I learned that rather than protecting oneself from pain to feel, reach out and try because I could heal from rejection. I began to like a strength in me I had scoffed at and feared for far too long. I began to forgive myself for my mistakes and errors. I felt I had done enough penance and even the injured party had forgiven me years before. I stopped looking back at my life full of recrimination, guilt and regret. My actions in the past made sense. When I did not like how I may have acted in the past I still saw the reasoning behind it and realized how I may be able to change it in the future.
I did not do all this entirely alone. Always I had friends and my family (and dogs). In 2007 I finally could not only recognize how blessed I was...I felt it. I encountered some wonderful new friends who helped to illuminate a potential future completely of my own making and who made me laugh at the silly and the grave parts of life. I tried to reconnect with old friends who meant a great deal to me. I have only been partially successful with the reconnection, but I have begun and that is enough for now. I realize that life is not in the results, but in the process no matter how messy, confusing and frustrating.
I wanted to thank everyone for their support and well wishes concerning the death of little Leia. It was difficult and yet a lesson I take to heart. I am still saddened by her death, but I have faith and I have hope which I may not have had only a few short months ago and when my faith and hope was not enough I had my friends and family. Life is good.
In the end I wish to live my life in a manner that honors who I am and my beliefs. I believe that 2008, like 2007, will be a monumental year. I hope you too are as fortunate as I am! Happy New Year (and day!).
I am not sure I believe in resolutions (probably because I don't follow through), but I do believe in having dreams and aspirations for the future. New Year's is a convenient time to begin anew. It's a lovely even date to begin charting the rest of your life. Still what it doesn't address is that each day you need to wake up and see it as a new start, a new beginning. A friend told me he sees New Year's as any other day and I think it is because he tries everyday to make it matter--he has no need to make resolutions...to have a wake up call to examine his life because he does it all the time. It is difficult to remain aware of your life, to be present for the mundane as well as the extraordinary, to listen to someone even as they wander into topics which bore you (say break fluid), to not want to rush through the slow parts to get to the more interesting ones....
Something wonderful occurred in 2007. I believe people come into your life for a purpose or rather that each person who enters your life can teach you something. There was someone who taught me (unbenownst to them!) that no matter how low I felt I still had hope and there was still something redeeming in me. This person also taught me to look at others and see that they too may hurt and need some simple kindness. I learned that rather than protecting oneself from pain to feel, reach out and try because I could heal from rejection. I began to like a strength in me I had scoffed at and feared for far too long. I began to forgive myself for my mistakes and errors. I felt I had done enough penance and even the injured party had forgiven me years before. I stopped looking back at my life full of recrimination, guilt and regret. My actions in the past made sense. When I did not like how I may have acted in the past I still saw the reasoning behind it and realized how I may be able to change it in the future.
I did not do all this entirely alone. Always I had friends and my family (and dogs). In 2007 I finally could not only recognize how blessed I was...I felt it. I encountered some wonderful new friends who helped to illuminate a potential future completely of my own making and who made me laugh at the silly and the grave parts of life. I tried to reconnect with old friends who meant a great deal to me. I have only been partially successful with the reconnection, but I have begun and that is enough for now. I realize that life is not in the results, but in the process no matter how messy, confusing and frustrating.
I wanted to thank everyone for their support and well wishes concerning the death of little Leia. It was difficult and yet a lesson I take to heart. I am still saddened by her death, but I have faith and I have hope which I may not have had only a few short months ago and when my faith and hope was not enough I had my friends and family. Life is good.
In the end I wish to live my life in a manner that honors who I am and my beliefs. I believe that 2008, like 2007, will be a monumental year. I hope you too are as fortunate as I am! Happy New Year (and day!).
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