Report Card

All work and no play makes Jack (or E.) a dull boy (girl).

Remember this? This was written by a very dull and worn out E. But amazingly enough, E. was decisive (yes, it happens sometimes) and left school to move across the country.

Did living in VA help E. learn how to play again? Mmm, I'd say so!

And I think she accomplished some of these things, too.

So, E., here you go: A+.

(But you still have to learn not to live just for A's.)

House-y Things and a Ramble

Virginia welcomed the First of December with sunshine and a rain storm. Funny how the two go together in this state. Sadly, the weather forecast canceled the "Snow Alert" for next Wednesday. I guess I still have time for a few more walks before my boots need their rub-down for snow.

My Use-Up-Fridge/Pantry-Items week continues. Our meals have been quite substantial considering I, erm, slightly over-purchased groceries the previous week. Here's what we've cooked so far:

Sunday: Curried Red Lentil, Quinoa, and Chickpea Stew. Recipe courtesy of Eat This. Homey, healthy and delicious. My first time cooking quinoa, too! The quinoa cooked for a while and looked like tiny little floating nose rings. I'm sorry, but that's the best way I can describe them. Maybe itsy bitsy smiles without the eyes?  I made a full recipe, so it will probably last us a while. (I might freeze whatever we don't eat.)

Monday: Whole Wheat Penne Pasta with Marinara, Spicy Chicken Sausage, and Olives. We had an unopened package of sausages in the fridge for a while now, so H. and I decided to cook two and freeze two. I love listening to the sausage skin "snap" while it cooks. Olives and penne pasta were in the pantry.  Um. I also attempted to make "S'mores Brownies" listed on the Food Network website. Lesson learned: don't attempt brownies unless you have all of the right ingredients. Suffice it to say, H. and I did not ask for s'more.

Tuesday/Wednesday: Left over stew and pasta. Bacon and Cheesy Eggs with Toast and Baby Spinach Salad + Chocolate Pudding.
H. and I finally finished the package of bacon we froze a while ago. Eggs are a House-y Staple. So is baby spinach. We eat it like chips around here. Everything came from either the fridge, freezer, or pantry. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In the spirit of culinary creativity, or plain ol' "Grocery Budgeting", H. and I decided to try a No Sugar, No Flour experiment until S. arrives on the 19th. My goal is not to worry about weight loss or maintenance. And I'll try very hard not to make eating a means of justifying myself and feeling better that I'm consuming "more natural ingredients" than those who eat processed foods. (But honestly, don't we all feel that way sometimes?) 

The older I get, the less I enjoy heavily processed foods without feeling "gross". But can part of the "gross" feeling be influenced by my personal beliefs about processed foods? Once I ate half a biscuit and found the other half covered with what seemed to be mold. I felt sick for the rest of the day. Then my sister came home and told me that the powdery white stuff was just flour. Whoops! Ok, so I'm a hypochondriac.I'm not advocating that we all start eating moldy food and believing that it's not moldy. Or anything like that. (What a relief to discover that the powdery white was only flour!) I just wonder how the condition of the soul and body influence food choices and feelings/reactions to food. Does that make any sense? I'll keep working on a better form of that question.


Sometimes I eat apples just because I'm ashamed. And sometimes I feel guilty when I eat nachos from Target. But I don't really know why I feel guilt or shame. (Ahhhh, Roy, this is making me think of Brothers K. Cuban Cigars, anyone?) Some of the best eating moments happen when I munch on an apple just because I love the taste of apple. And really, I never want nacho cheese for more than one or two days. Oh but sometimes it's so tasty. Why why why?

Oh well. Too many unfinished thoughts and half-formed questions. I should go read some Betsy-Tacy. Thought Project, I'll be back. (With more rambles. And more unfinished thoughts. And maybe some Target Nachos.)


No sugar or white flour for a few weeks can't hurt me. I'm hoping to see if it will help with the general achies and lethargy I've felt for the past few months.

And above all else, I want to have fun and be creative in trying new recipes and ingredients. So many vegetables and grains I've never tried! Bulgar? Nope! Celeriac or beets? Nope Nope! Eggs without gobs of ketchup? Nope. ...I'll have trouble with that one. 


How exciting! The day E. finally learns to eat an egg without loads of ketchup to mask the eggy taste. 

It can be done.

Well, it has to be done. At least for the next two weeks. I still have half a week to finish off some of our sugar/flour ingredients. Hoot!


Here's to a month of good eats and joyous meal making!

Are You Sitting Down?

No, I'm not pregnant. But I am sitting down, and so is everyone else in my family. Why is this so significant? Well, because we've been on our feet moving for the past several days. You know, the kind of moving that involves transferring all of our belongings from one house to another house. (And maybe the kind of moving that necessitates a giant "House Purge" from all spices, baking mixes, and Asian cooking liquids that have been around for 15+ years. Yeah. ...It was icky, but I feel liberated.)

Think Little House on the Prairie, except with a blue minivan replacing the covered wagon. Also, Costco pizza instead of corn dodgers and bacon. I'll always associate pizza and hot dogs with moving.

Moving is tough work. Packing and loading boxes mirrors a clumsy ballet routine. Grand Plié to lift a load, twirl twirl twirl to avoid hitting your sister, who is also carrying a full load, and another plié to lower the load. I am no dancer. 

Thankfully, we picked a Non-Thunderstorm week to move, and I am happy to say that everything was successfully transferred from House #1 to House #2. Or should I call it House #7? (Or House #9 if you include dorms and my Virginia house.) 

Like I said, moving is tough work. And in the past, moving was always bitter work for my family. Tension grew, tempers flared, and everyone was wary of one another. This time was different. Our family came together, literally, and labored together for days and days until we had to be out of the house. We were exhausted and stressed, but nobody yelled. In fact, there was a lot of laughing. Um, there might have been a lot of singing and dancing, too. Maybe all that Costco Pizza helped us stay sane. Or maybe it was Sam and my Aunt, who helped move heavy boxes, brought us food, and drove several loads of "schtuff" to the new house. Or maybe it was all the above combined with the knowledge that all really shall be most well. 

I used to quote that phrase during stressful times like finals or juries. However, moving, and all the circumstances leading to our move,  forced me to really consider what I was quoting. Everyone in my family had to trust that the source of ultimate peace and happiness transcended any material house. As we backed out of our driveway for the last time, my sister reminded me that everything we own is a gift from God. I do not think God gets angry and takes away our things just to spite us or "teach us a lesson". Those "things" were never ours to begin with. Maybe what feels like God's anger is really our own pain upon realizing that we sought happiness in the wrong place. I don't really know. 


But I do know that all has been well thus far. We have a place to live and loads of citrus trees in our yard. We still have our cats. The sun still rises every morning. Trader Joe's still sells Salsa Authentica. (WHEW.) 


I'm glad to be here. And I'll do my best to be glad to be "there", wherever the next "there" might be. 


For now, I should just say:

It's good to finally meet you, Little Brown House! 

(No, not "Welcome Baby Darling!")

Are Jolly Owls Called Jowlets? JollyOwls? JollOwls?

Huh.

Well, sometimes life brings you Not-So-Jolly-News. And sometimes you just have to let yourself feel sad about the Not-So-Jolly-News.

 Sad, Sad, Sad.

Thankfully, my housemate, H., makes Not-So-Jolly times a bit brighter with Chocolate Cake, Random Dance Parties, and trips to Target. She also makes me Potato, Leek, and Chicken Soup. And she will eat my cookies when I feel overwhelmed for making too many. And she will buy me a new jar of Salsa Authentica when the original jar turned out to be expired. And she will tell me it is okay not to finish University studies until I'm ready. And she will put up with my inability to speak coherently and succinctly when I come home from work. AND she will rub my shoulder blade when it spasms. Oh. I will always remember this.

(H., sorry for all of the "And's". But you are wonderful. Not "and wonderful". Just "wonderful".)


I'm also grateful to my parents for teaching me and my sister to keep active in the midst of sad times. (The kitchen looked immaculate last Sunday, by the way. Thank goodness for stainless steel cleaner.) I cleaned, took walks, went grocery and sock shopping, folded several loads of laundry, and so forth. But after a day full of "activity", I realized that being "active" also includes allowing yourself time to grieve. (A box of tissues is handy at this point.)

On a whim, I began reading Revelations of Divine Love by Dame Julian of Norwich. (Good decision.) In my silly Owlish insecurity, I first approached the text with an agenda to analyze and form academic paper topics. Um. Yes. Note the "silly" and "insecurity". My agenda was forgotten as I began reading. Perhaps there are times when you need to read just for soulish comfort. Well, this is what I am doing, and soulish comfort I am finding. The commonly quoted "...all shall be well, and all manner of things shall be well" begins to make more sense. Well, at least a bit more sense. And the sense is followed by a host of questions. But these are the comforting kind of questions that keep your mind active during holidays.

So here I am, a silly little Owlie living in Virginia. I am still very happy to be here. And I feel that each new sorrow I embrace will increase my capacity to feel new and greater joys. So here's to another week (with more Salsa Authentica, I hope).

(When I expressed to my sister a concern of seeming too sappy, she replied by saying: "I love how their [that of the sappy people?] world is always populated by beautiful people."

...
Then she told me she was watching a music video. So maybe she was referring to the music video. Either way, I hope my world is populated by beautiful people. As of right now, it's mostly inhabited by squirrels. Oh so many.)

Cheerio!

Monday Musings

Dear California,

You may take our 100 degree weather. Forever. We're glad to send it your way now. But we'll also try to send some rain, too, as a consolation prize. It was an awful week of hot and muggy, and I'm sorry you have to experience our discomfort now. But this too shall pass.

Love,
Virginia

~*~*~*~

Yep, it's raining today! Even though the weather outside is still warm and muggy, the air conditioned house allows me to wrap myself in a fleecy robe and pretend that it's Fall. H. even made Spiced Apple Cake yesterday! Perhaps I'll try some after lunch. Lovely, lovely day.

~*~*~*~

When I moved to Virginia in hopes of finding rest and healing, I think I expected immediate relief. Sort of like in cartoons when a harp strums and a character's back is suddenly realigned. But I'm  discovering that healing is a long term process, and many of my bodily ailments are related to my, er, dare I say "misaligned soul". 

For example, my neck pain and back spasms (owowow) directly result from my neurotic drive to be a perfect music student. "Perfect Music Student" became my ultimate end, and since my definition of perfection only involved technical skill, I stopped caring for my physical and emotional well being. Luckily, this lifestyle eventually lead to (a rather gentle) crash 'n burn, and after a "great awakening" with the help of Pa, I am on the road to a more grace-filled life.

I'm giving myself the grace to get lost while driving, read books that I want to read, not finish books I would rather not finish, start projects, not finish projects right away, buy almond butter even though it's more expensive than peanut butter, not beat myself up if I don't walk every day, and even leave the kitchen messy for a whole day. (Yeah, A., unbelievable, isn't it?) 

I'm learning how to feel again, too. I've stopped trying to avoid strong emotions by rationalizing them. Sometimes I'm like my little nanny-ing girls who tell me they just feel SO frustrated, grumpy, disappointed, upset, angry, or sad. No, I won't start having tantrums in the middle of stores. But I will work on not bottling, since bottled emotions, unlike wine, don't really taste better with age.

Well, that's just a rambly blip of all the "non-academic" things I've been learning here. 
 

 I'm off to be a good student and work on Assignment 1. Baths really are heavenly.

I'll leave you with this Cheery Owl-y Video:

They are my favourite! :)Especially the one in the middle. Ahem. 

Cheerio!

Blargady Blarg: A Rambly Post

Well, so much for NYC Trip (!!) Part Two. It exists. At least the idea for the post exists. I just haven't found the will to actually write it. Plus, Blogger's new Photo-Upload system confuses me. I promise I'll do my best to have it up by this weekend so all my dear family can see pictures of New York and Delicious Things to Eat. (For all of you facebook folks, go look at H.'s facebook album. Mmmm. Cupcakes!)

So to answer the much asked question, "What have you been doing with all of your time?" (with different people emphasizing different words), here's a sample:

-I've been watching episodes of Pushing Daisies! I know it might sound like mindless activity, but it's actually quite hard for me to sit through an entire TV episode or movie. Perhaps this stems from my short attention span. Pushing Daisies is a fun and not too emotionally taxing way to practice focusing my attention on one thing at a time. I don't sew, cook, eat, or clean while I watch. But I do relax. And I occasionally burrow myself under the brown blanket whenever there appears anything too intensive (oh, like CRASH DUMMIES in Dandelion Cars). Admittedly, I have an embarrassingly low tolerance for stressful situations, even when depicted through film. But come on, crash dummies are frightening. ...

-It is also horrifying to realize you've just watered two baby squirrels with your hose. Which leads to Thing-I've-Been-Doing #2: Watering for B.D. Neighbour B.D. hired me to water the lawn in preparation for aerating and seed planting. I love this job since it forces me to wake up early and gives me a chance to use my yellow umbrella. (Yes, I accidentally sprayed two blind baby squirrels that had fallen out of their nest. I took the Beatles' advice and let it be. Or let them be. The squirrels were gone when I went back to look this evening.)

-Chicken Curry for Supper, and Chocolate Pudding and Whipped Cream for Dessert. Enough said. Tonight is Lasagna Night.

-Walks through the Neighbourhood, Shrimpy Prawn, Pretend Yoga and Ballet, And Anything That Might Make My Neck Vertebrae Return To A Proper Place.

-Work. I'm nannying for two little girls four days every other week, plus Wednesday on every other week. (It's not as complicated as it sounds. At least the schedule is not complicated. Little girls, on the other hand...) How much I am learning about my own childhood by working with little girls!  Strong displays of emotion always frightened me when I was younger, but I must now learn to handle the unarticulated feelings of four and five year olds. For instance, I've learned that child M. needs help to identify her growling and grrr-ing as "FRUSTRATION" over not being able to color in the lines. Isn't it still frustrating to grown ups when they realize they're not perfect? I could relate with M. and her poor coloring book trials. And I could also relate with her sister, M.R., during her meltdown after school. But I can only empathize and sympathize to an extent. Then I must be firm (gaaaahhh) and somehow gently exercise my authority as the "guardian in the house" to ensure that homework is completed. I don't like this part since it means conflict, and conflict is still difficult for me even when it involves a five year old.

Ma, I am learning so very much about not stressing. And I think you and Pa are saints for raising two daughters.

Martyrdom of Nannyhood? Sounds dramatic, but I'm realizing that any vocation, particularly the ones involving the care of children, require learning how to love and accept grace.

And sometimes grace comes in the form of your housemate making you dinner.

~*~*~*~*~

Oh, and when I feel like I have no purpose in life, I sew dinosaurs. (Or at least I try to come up with dinosaur patterns.)

Poor Dinosaur/Nessie/Dragon/Creature. I shall work more on the pattern later.

H. really took a liking to him. (I think it's a him, right?)

He's good for stress-relief-squeezes.

:)

And H. and I have random dance parties.

I am very happy.

"Leaving On A Jet Plane"

It’s always disturbing when my life mirrors John Denver songs. Then again, certain songs are fitting since the next few months will likely involve my “bags being packed and ready to go”, Virginia, (though not exactly West Virginia), and traveling away from my friends and family. Daunting, but certainly not dismal. Not only will I be in the company of trees, but I will also be nearer to H. Gardener, Haur and Anna, and other friends who migrated eastwards.

Yes, I really am taking a year off from college. No, I never planned to do so last semester. Why not? Because it was too hard to think about anything besides surviving my first year of school. Yes, I realize that it’s inconvenient. And yes, I am already struggling with Financial Aid over reinstating scholarships, etc. No, I have no idea what I want to do when I come back, or even when I’ll come back. But yes, I do indeed plan on spending this time to relearn lovely and healthy habits such as taking time for tea and breakfast, reading for fun, and recovering from soul-ish exhaustion.

“Soul-ish Exhaustion” remains a vague term to me, but someone once suggested it as a definition for my general weariness. Perhaps it’s something similar to “burn out”. I didn’t crash and burn, but I think I kept stretching an already tightly wound “person” (soul? Body? Both?) until one “part” finally snapped. I don’t know what I mean by “part”, or however a soul can “snap”. But I think my physical condition reflects whatever is going on in my soul. My body is tired, weak, full of tension, and demanding care and attention that I so often refused to give. And perhaps my soul is demanding the same thing. When I was younger, many people commented on how similarly I behaved to their grandma: uptight, kind of pokey, anxious, and generally quirky. Well, now my body feels as achy as a grandma’s body, and I’m too worn out to drive myself any further.

So rather than pushing myself through another year of school, I’m taking time off to learn how to rest and undo the bodily and soulish knots. I’ll do my best to spare you from too-close-too-soon-rambly-self-revelation-personal-details. This blog is mainly for documenting my travels, anyways. (Or to update my family on practical details: such as “OH NO! Giant antelope ate my car!”) But the occasional rambly post will probably arise.

This is actually a very selfish blog—But maybe I’ll try not to worry about that right now, since the purpose of HootHootWoof is to remain in dialogue with family and friends. (Alli, am I being silly?) And I suppose there are “selfish” conversations… Alright, I’ll stop being a silly worry bird and shall go stretch.


P.S.-I finally finished sewing some bunting flags for my room. Shall post a picture once I buy a camera.

P.P.S.-I'm not leaving on a jet plane. I'm driving. But my bags should still be packed and ready to go.