It's like the space between my ears is humming
At least with age comes (a little) wisdom. After the way I feel today, and the way I slept last night, and the fact that I crawled in to my bed in the middle of the day yesterday trying to stave off a full blown panic attack... I booked a massage, and contacted my free through work therapist people. So, there's that. I'm much smarter than I used to be. Sigh. I just hope that it's enough, you know?
It's been 2 fucking weeks since I got home, people. Two. We have roughly TWENTY MONTHS to go. Give me a fucking break. I do NOT want to go look at venues. I do NOT want to go try on wedding gowns, no matter how good the sale. I would like to finished putting away the things I bought on vacation, and the laundry from that trip. I would like to admire the pretty, pretty ring, and have mushy webchats with the boy. I would like to giggle to myself, and read bridal etiquette books. I do not fucking want to have to make plans already, you know?
And if this is how it begins? I think I am going to need some help for dealing with that lot without loosing my mind.
Labels: family, twisty, wedding
7 things I have to keep in mind
(Because the craziness has ALREADY BEGUN. Sigh.)
The 7 things that are non negotiable:
1. Great dress.
2. Good photographer, because I am not photogenic in any way, and need all the help I can get.
3. Ceremony starts off with the old words, the "dearly beloved" speech. I have a 1910 (United Church) Book of Common Prayer that I quite like...
4. Family and friends there to celebrate with.
5. Good djay.
6. Kick ass party.
7. Right groom. (And... check!)
(Because, seriously. The lies and the demands and the manipulations and did I mention the lies? Have begun already. I've only been HOME for 9 days - his parents have only known for FOUR! And John's not back possibly until DECEMBER so I have at least a year and a half, minimum, to deal with this kind of crap. Oh dear, oh dear. Thus, the non negotiables.)
Labels: family, grown ups, marriage, the boy, wedding
2007 in Review
I did this last year too. I like these - it makes for interesting perspective.
1. What did you do in 2007 that you'd never done before?
Supported my partner fleeing the country for a year. Got mildly addicted to exercise. Figured out that exercise makes my depression lift more easily. Joined a gym. Took part in a psych study. Took a university night class. Booked my first flight out of this hemisphere. Paid off all our debts (excepting of course the mortgage, but making huge headways on that as well).2. Did you keep your new year's resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I didn’t make New Year’s resolutions last year, I made a 25 in 25 list, and did very well on it. I plan to (belatedly) do a 26 in 26 list. 3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Darren’s sister did – he’s an adorable baby. The soft spot on his head freaked John out a lot.
4. Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, no.
5. What countries did you visit?
The States (Idaho, Utah, Wyoming and Montana) and the Dominican Republic.
6. What would you like to have in 2008 that you lacked in 2007?
Less grief. No stupid drama. No family vacations. *grin* No fucking mice in the house.
7. What date(s) from 2007 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
October 13th – the day John left.
8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Coping with the above with far more composure than anyone expected – myself included.
9. What was your biggest failure?
You know, that’s a tough one. I don’t think I really failed at anything this year. I mean, I haven’t been a total success or anything, but to me, to have failed carries a tone of not doing my best. I mean, I failed to learn to do an upside down flip called the helicopter at my pole dancing class, but I tried really hard. I bruised ribs, feet, ass, hip bone, and tail bone. Eventually I quit trying to do it, but I don’t really care. I tried my best, and it didn’t work. *shrug* I don’t feel bad about it. It just is – I can’t do that move – my weight distribution in my body is wrong for it, and I don’t care. I could do other stuff.
I failed at all sorts of things this year, like keep the house clean like a good little Martha would. But I don’t feel that I particularly failed at anything. On the whole, I gave things my best shot. And that’s good enough.
10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
We discovered that the constant colds and infections and feeling like crap was all based on a cat allergy gone out of control. No more visits to the in-laws, where the cat lives, no more being sick. (Okay, I’ve had a cold or two, but NOTHING like before.) I think I may have given myself another mild concussion. I have got to stop doing that.
11. What was the best thing you bought?
(I’m hoping) my flight to see John in the January. Otherwise, probably all the yoga 20 class passes.
12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Mine, dammit. My boyfriend of six years goes to the Middle East, and on the whole, I keep my shit together and don’t get depressed. I’m proud of myself, even if no one else is.
13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Okay, listen, I just got back from a seven day vacation with my parents and adult sister. That’s a hell of a loaded question.
Also, ***** for being an absolutely insane jerk about something so pathetically trivial – a reaction that will essentially taint our relationship for the rest of our lives.
14. Where did most of your money go?
The mortgage. Followed by vacations. Followed by groceries. Followed by a lovely piece of art.
15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
All the travel I’m getting to do.
Also, paying off all the money we owed John’s parents.
16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2007?
Jeremy Fisher – High School. Heard him at the Folk Fest this summer. I can listen to it over and over and over.
Wolf Parade – I’ll Believe Anything. Bought the album before the road trip this summer. Blasted the thing at loud volume while driving through America with a window open (because our little old car has a non functioning air conditioning system, and it was 100oF outside) and just feeling it.
Raine Maida – Yellow Brick Road. I like the version that’s on the radio, but we say him perform it in February, and it just blew both of us away.
Snow Patrol – pretty much the entire Eyes Open album. Love.
The Killers – Sam’s Town album. Awesome road trip music, blasting away, sometimes rolling up a window so that we can sing along with the lyrics.
17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. Happier or sadder? This time last year I was depressed. So I’m happier than that, but I’m also really lonely. It’s a draw, I think.
ii. Thinner or fatter? About the same weight – but far more ripped muscles.
iii. Richer or poorer? Richer. That is, when they actually remember to pay John.
18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Laugh. Go to live theatre. Stood up for myself.
19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Complain. Cry. Whine. Feel sad. Feel self loathing.
20. How will you be spending Christmas?
In the Dominican Republic, without the love of my life, with my parents and sister. Drinking pina coladas, relaxing around the pool and getting a tan. Very relaxing.
21. Did you fall in love in 2007?
I am in love.
22. How many one-night stands?
None. But I am about to fly 11,268km for a booty call, so that’s got to earn me some trashy points.
23. What was your favorite TV program?
Heroes. Doctor Who. House. Grey’s Anatomy. Corner Gas. Little Mosque on the Prairies.
24. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
No, I try not to hate anyone. I may loathe certain people extra much though.
25. What was the best book you read?
I’ve read around 183 books this year. Many were very good.
26. What were your greatest musical discoveries?
Wolf Parade. Jeremy Fisher. Final Fantasy. Silver Sun Pickups. Feist. Plain White Ts. I bought more cds this year at full price than I have in pretty much the rest of my life put together. Yay having a job.
27. What did you want and get?
Vacations. Love. Solid friendship. The confidence to strut my overweight ass around in short shorts and hooker heels and feel sexy doing it.
28. What was your favorite film of this year?
I really enjoyed Enchanted, The Bourne Identity, My Little Sunshine, and a few others.
29. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I turned 26. My parents took me out for Indian food at the Taj Mahal restaurant. A few days early I invited friends over and roasted my first turkey, and made them bring me food, potluck style.
30. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Having John here for all of it. Also, not having the stupid drama with his father. Though if John had stayed, that never would have happened…
31. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2007?
Jeans are good. And I have enormous breasts that make shopping for clothes hard and really frustrating. I did start layering t-shirts…
32. What kept you sane?
John. Books. Strongbow. Gin. The promise of vacations.
33. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Oh, let’s go with the perennial favorite Colin Firth.
34. What political issue stirred you the most?
Not much this year. Pretty quiet on the Canadian front. Our civic election didn’t result in many surprises.
35. Who did you miss?
John. God, am I repetitive enough yet?
36. Who was the best new person you met?
Trisha, though work. Look, I’m making a new friend! How unlike me.
37. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2007:
You are stronger than you think.
38. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
If I knew now what I knew then, I’d
Back up do it all again, I’d
Take a bow, take it real slow
Take a ride down the yellow brick road
Raine Maida - Yellow Brick Road
Also:
Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Give me your eyes
I need sunshine
Your blood
Your bones
Your voice
and your ghost
We've both been very brave
Walk around with both legs
Fight the scary day
We both pull the tricks out of our sleeves
Wolf Parade – I’ll Believe Anything
Labels: 25 in 25, body, boredom, family, holidailies, identity, meme, solo year, the boy, twisty, vacation, writing
I'm ba-ck!
And thank god for that, too. 7 days of 24-7 with your parents and adult (but only in the technical sense) is just too much. By yesterday, we all loathed each other. About par for the course, I'd say. It did remind
all of us why it's been 9 years since the last time we did this.
But that's okay. The
Dominican Republic was a lovely way to avoid Christmas. The beach was nice, the sun was great, I read 8 books, ate a ton of fresh fruit (oh,
pineapple, how I love thee), went
snorkeling, drink
pina coladas constantly, relaxed, slept late, played cars, got a tour of
Santo Domingo, didn't have to deal with the mess of
families that Christmas around here is, got a nice tan, and got to be in a whole new country.
So all in all, a lovely trip. I'm glad I went, and am so, so, so glad to be home.
Well, almost home. I'm going to a friend's house for a New Year's party, and so won't be in my own bed for another night, but what the hell -
internet access and the ability to flush toilet paper down the toilet? Life is good.
Labels: family, holidailies, solo year, vacation
More than one holiday was spent there
I didn't get on the holidailies charity bandwagon for a few reasons, one of them being that I like my charities local, and another being that I have already done my donations for the year. I donate through work as they have a 100% matching program that makes my dollar go twice as far, so that's nice. My charities of choice are small ones that I fully believe in. I don't donate to the United Way, for example, because 10% of the money they raise goes to their overhead, and then they pass money on to other, smaller groups, each who have overhead too. Also, they spend a lot on advertising; I have never seen any advertising from at least one of the groups I support.
At any rate, one of the people I have sent money to every single year since I graduated university and started having money is the
Agape Hospice, the place where two of my grandparents spent their final days. It was far lovelier a place than you would expect, even if it was the scene of what hopefully goes down as the single worst Christmas meal of my life. My grandmother was maybe three days from death, and no longer was the woman I knew, she was just a... shell, I guess. The whole thing was horrifying, and I can't think back on without crying. But the staff made such an effort. We had a large private dining room and I'm pretty such a whole turkey dinner meal that we must have eaten. Her room was lovely and bright, and the staff was so kind. And so every year I send them a bit of money.
If I ever have any doubt about where I should be sending my money, all I should ever have to do is read this article that was recently in the Calgary Herald's Swerve magazine.
Read it here and tell me if you can read it without crying. I certainly couldn't.
Labels: family, holidailies, twisty
I'm totally going to read this in the morning and erase it all
Man, I got an actual compliment from my mother second hand through a business acquaintance today. And a direct compliment from her last week.
I, to be totally honest, don't even know how to react it's so unusual.
Seriously, how fucking sad is that? The only time in my life that, if this business contact who had no real reason to butter me up isn't lying, my mother has called me pretty. (My brow is furling as I type, to be honest.) You see, I'm neither, generally speaking, the pretty one or the smart one - that's Courtney. I'm, um, the practical, bookish one, I guess. (My sister is at UBC doing a double major in food science and the science of nutrition, thus totally clinching the smart one title.) And so then, to get this random comment, "oh, it's so nice to meet you, your mother talks so much about you, you're the pretty one, the smart one, the one who's doing so well" or whatever just floored me. I mean, my sister worked for them last summer, so they know the difference between us - she wasn't getting us mistaken.
I don't know. I'm 26 years old. I am deeply surprised that my mother would ever make such comments, and that's pretty sad, I think. A million years ago, as an angry, angsty teen, I wrote a scrawling diary entry in response to a dove ad, that she's never called me pretty (or derivative) and that on the few rare chances someone else did, she immediately shot them down. Forcefully. In front of me.
Look, I'm not the prettiest girl in the room, and I'll never be considered beautiful. But I'm cute - I'm the girl next door, and I am learning what looks best for me. I'll never be a true stunner, but I can turn a few heads if I try, you know? If you're anyone but John, I'm the girl you take home to your parents, the one whose face is always alive and generally laughing. I know I'm not court beauty, but nor am I bag over my head territory. My mother is unlikely to be jealous of my looks, or trying to stop me from getting an inflated head.
See, my mother is a pretty good mother, but the flaws are pretty glaring. We'll ignore the Darryl issue, and I'll mention that my mother is one of the most critical people I've ever met. Towards me, especially. Not towards my sister, of course, but at me. At about EVERYTHING. Two days after John left, I'm still a wreck, and my mother? She's all, "why did you wear you hair in pigtails to the airport? It looked bad. and that outfit! I saw you a few days later and you looked far skinnier. You need to learn to dress better, you know." Some shit like that. I wore pigtails because they make me look cute, and John likes them. They make me feel cute, too. The shirt was new, and I will ashamedly admit I haven't worn it again, and that's sad, because i bought it because I thought it looked good.
Fuck, whatever. Let me just say that I got two compliments from my mother this week, one direct and one via someone else this week, and my world feels like it's spinning slightly askew.
Labels: body, family, holidailies, twisty
I'm dreaming of a (not) white Christmas
How is this December different from last year?
I don't normally take prompts but this one is just so right. This December couldn't be any different if I had tried.
Normally? December kind of sucks. All the shopping, trying to figure out the right things to buy, trying to figure out what to tell people when they say, "what do you want?". All the family stress, trying to balance the demands of family, knowing that no matter what you do it will end in tears for someone. Knowing that there is no physical way you can be there for all the time they want you to be there. Trying to figure out where our celebration has to fit around the family ones. The fighting and crying and passive aggressive shit that happens makes me want to run away, every year. The intervention style lunches where we explain our choices to our mothers. The whole mess. Trying to keep the tree alive, and then picking pine needles out of the shag carpet for ages afterward. Eating too much. Drinking far too much. Feeling Scroogey and grumpy and angry.
And then there is 2007! John isn't around, his father isn't on speaking terms with me, my family has blown off presents and we're headed to a tropical island instead! It really couldn't be better. Well, no, it totally, completely could. John could be here. But he's not - he's 11,268 km away, and there's nothing I can do about that. But: almost no presents, no family juggling, not making someone cry (I hope!), not much stress, and did I mention the tropical beach? The snorkeling? The lack of having to buy presents? The time away? Bliss, I tell you. The fact that we don't have to have 3 giant meals in 24 hours alone (each family set insists) is a mercy. The fact that I can spend the whole time snorkeling instead is just gravy. Tasty, tasty gravy.
Also - instead of worrying about to buy lists, I'm figuring out flights, planning my trip to Bahrain and maybe Qatar to visit John. Instead of bitching about the (rather horrible) weather we've been having, I'm day dreaming of tropical beaches and Arabian deserts. Instead of complaining about how hard it is to make other people happy (or at least stop complaining about our decisions), I'm celebrating how happy I am. Bliss!
So, uh, yeah. Note to self - blow off Christmas more often - it will make you happy.
Labels: family, holidailies, solo year, vacation
Lookback at the 25 in 25 list
Time for a lookback at my 25 in 25 list. (Ah, corporate lingo.) I did much of it, but let's start with the failures, shall we?Read a classic novel - I read about 200 book and yet didn't read a single one that counts as a classic to be. That's really, really embarrassing.
Make a crazy fancy dessert, just for fun - Wow. That's also a shame. Sure, I made really crazy fancy dinners regularly, but didn't cook much in the way of desserts, period.
Work out at least once every two weeks at home, one way or another - I am ready to take fully half points for this. Since I posted this list, I've been doing dance classes once a week, yoga at the studio once a week, and joined a gym. So for the first part of the year, I was working out at home more, but for the latter, I had no more time. So - half points.
Contact at least 2 friends I have let drift, and meet up with them (Lunch with Ami, Feb) - Yeah, I'm not a good friend. Sorry.
Do a really, really obscene cross stitch - I started it in early November, and am about a quarter finished. It is so, so awesome. Again, half points.
Sent at least one postcard or real letter every month (Dec, Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr, Jun, July, Oct) - Okay, I didn't make it. I got a fair number of letters and cards sent, but not one a month for sure. I did right 14 in October for John, but that doesn't totally count.
And then there is all the shit I did manage to do!
Can or preserve something (two types of pickled beets, a jar of rhubarb chutney and a couple of jars of home made tomato sauce) - I've almost never eaten pickled beets before I made them. (I made them for my boss for Christmas.) They are GOOD! The rhubarb is because John was making cordial, and I stole some of the 20 pounds he had collected (which was in addition to the 15 pounds that went in to making wine earlier in the season. It's only the first full year since the plants were transported. Uh, anyone want some rhubarb next year?). The tomato sauce was after getting some tired
romas from a grocery store, and made sauce on a whim. Canning is easy!
Donate money to charity (I am my company's Heart and Stoke Big Bike Coordinator, so I had to donate money. Aug 30; Food Bank via Corporate Challenge. Oct 25; donation for Corporate Matching, Oct 15) - Yeah, I totally did this one.
Do a whole routine for John without talking, forgetting or stopping (Feb 3, baby!) - He giggled the whole time.
Flip upside down on the pole (April 4) - now it's easy.
Stay in
shoulderstand for 5 minutes (April 12) - This will never be easy, I don't think.
Stay in headstand comfortably for 5 minutes (April 12, for a relative value of comfort) - Relative is so the right word.
Read an interesting non-fiction, non-biography book (Ghost in the House: Motherhood, Raising Children, and Struggling with Depression by Tracy Thompson; Real Food: What to Eat and Why by Nina Planck; Hardcore Zen: Punk Rock, Monster Movies & the Truth about Reality by Brad Warner; The Bust Guide to the New Girl Order edited by Marcelle
Karp and Debbie
Stoller; The End of Food: How the Food Industry is Destroying our Food Supply - and What You Can Do About It by Thomas F.
Pawlick) - There were a few more after this point, but I stopped being bothered to record them here. So clearly - love fiction, can happily read biographies and memories and essays, and will read the right non-fiction. Just doesn't like Classic Novels with Value. Sigh.
Take a non-fitness class (maybe bookbinding?) (Collapse! Sept - Dec 07) - A fascinating university course. It's all the fun of university learning with none of the hard work!
Make at least three new journals (Jan 2, one book bound, Apr 30, one chocolate log book made, Christmas list book, Nov 15) - Not my best work, perhaps, but done none the less.
Finish writing and get my cookbook printed through Lulu (before Christmas!!) (Dec 7, but won't get it in time for Christmas. Oh well, close enough.) - Amusingly, in November coordinated a cookbook for a family friend, doing pretty much the exact same thing. And it was late too! Not my fault though.
Do the rude Chinese cross stitch (1st one done April, 2
nd one done October.) - Now, to frame it.
Pay off Cathy and Vince (May 27, and thank GOD!) - Best thing ever.
Take my parents out for dinner (Dec 8, after Handel’s Messiah, August - Chinese restaurant before the fireworks) - Not really nice dinners, but dinner and entertainment none the less.
Try a new craft (beading?) (Embroidery - I'm doing cute sushi napkins) - I put it down to go back to cross stitching, which I like better. Will finish them eventually.
Suck it up and have Polish Grandmother over for dinner (Mar 29, September 29) - I AM a good person.
Grow a garden - and actually water it this year (Peas and tomatoes and carrots and lettuce and potatoes and strawberries all good things.) - It did... lousy. It wasn't a great summer - too hot in July, too wet in August. I did get fabulous tomatoes though, and the late carrots weren't bad. The potatoes in the pots worked better than in the ground. The wild strawberries in the spring were fabulous. The peas were a weather induced write-off, ditto the beets and Swiss chard. The herbs did well though - especially the
4 foot tall lemon tarragon bush. Next year? I'm thinking tomatoes, potatoes, strawberries and beets again. Plus more tomatoes.
Paint another room of the house (the laundry room, July 07) - With John "about to leave" every week for months, I didn't get any other
renos done.
Go to plays, beyond our Theatre Junction subscription (Chicago, Jan 25
FRC company; Famous Puppet Death Scenes, Feb 2, Theatre Junction; The Retreat from Moscow, Feb 7 ATP; Solo: The Doubt within Me, Feb 23 Theatre Junction; Show No. 2, Mar 16 Theatre Junction;
Nunsence, Apr 13 Stage West; Unbound, Apr 14 Theatre Junction; The Movement Cabaret, Apr 20 Theatre Junction (outside of subscription); The Underpants, May 16, Workshop Theatre; Twelfth Night, July 17 The Shakespeare Company; Dads, XX, Storybook Theatre; The Full Monty, October 5 Theatre Junction;
Cocktales, Nov 9) - I LOVE like theatre.
Have someone over (for dinner?) every month (Dec, Jan, Feb, Mar, Apr, May, Jun, July, Aug, Sept, Oct, Nov) - Look! I'm practically overcoming my social phobias!
I totally did not manage 4 things, I half managed 1, and I started another. Still, I accomplished 19, and with the half points I just decided to give myself, that's 20 out of 25. And of the 4 I missed, I half did 2 of them. So all in all, I think I did pretty good. I'm really glad I wrote this list - it's really made me feel much more accomplished. Now, of course, I have to think of the 26 in 26 list...Labels: 25 in 25, family, food, garden, holidailies, life, solo year
So. Saudi Arabia, eh?
So I guess it's official now - time to start mentally dealing with it. Baring a failed medical, John's off to Saudi Arabia for 6-12 months. For work. With a maximum of three weeks leave time. Starting probably in September. So yeah. I'm staying as calm as possible. It's not easy, but what else, really, is there to do?
Logically, this is the best possible time. He will need to have spent at least a 8 months in the field to be promoted past a certain point. This is a good time - we've got the house and no move in sight (or, well, ever). We're not in the middle of planning a wedding. We're not pregnant. We don't have small children. This experience should pretty much guarantee that getting his stamp will be easy. The pay increase is decent. I'll probably fly out to visit him once, instead of him coming home, and let's face it - a week in Dubai is a little more exciting that driving through central Idaho. (I am not allowed to accompany him, and am
strongly encouraged not to even try to enter the Kingdom, to meet elsewhere. So you know, travel. It's a great opportunity for him, especially at his age. I mean. Saudi Arabia! Beats the crap out of being sent back to Fort McMurray any day. (Even though he would be able to come home at least once a month...)
SO. I'm remaining calm and happy for him and calm. Did I mention I've chosen not to become upset the way I did all those years ago when he was sent to Ft Mac for the summer? Because I am. Calm.
(Actually, currently I am FAR MORE UPSET about having to go to Creston with his entire family, including Other Grandma and Mildly Gropey Grandpa than anything. I wonder if that's a 2 bottle of gin or 3 bottle of gin weekend?)
Labels: family, life, the boy, vacation
Weeks later and I'm still affronted.
So a few weeks ago we had the Other Grandmother and mildly
gropey grandfather over for dinner, along with John's parents. It was only the second time the grandparents have seen the house, the first been the month we moved in, so we had to give them the house tour, of course. Now, I'll admit it's a large house, and the 'tour' often gets derailed by games of
foosball, because dude, that's way more fun than checking out the scary unused bathroom in the basement. At any rate, it may be a large house, at least by the standard of say,
yuppies our age in this city. But even still, it's no mansion - it's a late 60s suburban house. Well. The tour managed to take an entire HOUR AND A HALF to go through, in part because we had to stop and explain the origin or every single bit of John's wall collections (which include sticks and similar shaped objects from his travels and another corner with coral and fish skeletons from his travel). Every. Single. Piece. Every single goddamn rock had to have it's origin explained. I kid you not. Oh, sure, they didn't ask about the dozen oil paintings my grandfather did hanging around the house, but had to be told the origin and collection history of each small shiny rock. God. SO BORING.
But fine, we eventually get to the storage room in the basement. Technically, it's an illegal basement (the window's too small) but we use it as a storage room. Other Grandma, who for the record complained about every single thing served that night - the water was from the tap, she didn't want to drink the bottled water, the cabbage salad was too spicy, there were potatoes roasted with the veggies, the chicken had skin, the meringues were much sugar, there was something wrong with the strawberries I put on top, you get the idea. Other Grandma takes one look at our storage room, a room I take a fair amount of pride in (check out the canning!) and snipes, "you cook from cans all time!" in the most rude, judgemental voice possible. (On an evening I served homemade bread, hummus made with beans from a can, cabbage carrot salad with homemade dressing, two roast chicken with roasted potatoes, celery root, and carrots, and meringue nests with strawberry mixed with sugar to form their own syrup. All this on a weeknight. Not exactly processed canned food.)
Now, look at those pictures, keeping in mind that this is the basement storage room, a repository for Costco runs of tomatoes, and giant bags of rice. Now, sure, there are a lot of canned tomatoes. Tomatoes are very bad and very expensive in February in the white north, and I am happy to use canned at those times in pasta sauce. I mean, of course! I used canned beans on weekdays for quick meals. I also have lots of dried beans for times when I have more time and energy. Again, I feel no shame in using canned beans to cook meals with. I mean, they're beans. In liquid. Not exactly Evil Processed Food, you know? There are still dozens of jars of jam we made, pickles I made, two types of relish I made, garlic jelly I made... There are multiple types of flour, and rice, and pasta. Sure, there are also some boxes of cereal (mainly used for nuts and bolts) and a fair amount of pop, but that stuff is for parties - we buy when it's on sale.
I am a good cook and I pride myself on cooking stuff from scratch. Yeah, sure, I know I don't grind my own flour or make my own vinegar, but come on. This is NOT the storage room of a packaged food eater. Hell, do those people even have giant food storage rooms? Sure, I have a weakness for those Asian noodle soup bowls, and I use canned tomatoes and I only make my own coriander chutney sometimes. The fact that I have more than one option for coriander chutney, however, is a sign that I am not what she implied of me, that old bitch. John didn't get the slur, didn't see the hostility. But trust me, it was there.
At any rate, check out my storage room. The pictures are
simply covered in notes - I love that feature. As a bonus, check out the bar photo - can you guess what else John collects? *grin*
Labels: family, food, life, the boy
