Friday Five – A Week in Gratitude: Frugality, Food, Free Time, and Fire

13 Jan

Five things from this week that I’m grateful for:

freshly baked cookies await upon check in

1. (Frugal) Time Away With My Husband

A few weeks ago A called me at work, saying he got an email from one of our favorite Inns in Carmel offering rooms at 60% off. He asked if I’d like to go away for a weekend before tax season got started. My response? “Are you kidding me?!? Of course I want to go! How soon can we get a room?”

a little wine, sipped in a garden, with an artisinal cheese plate at georis

2. Good Food and Good Wine

We go to Carmel a lot, so this trip we wanted to do something different. It was unseasonably sunny and warm (mid-60’s all weekend) so we decided to explore Carmel Valley instead of doing our usual downtown/beach routine. We sampled offerings from local wineries and ate an amazing lunch crafted to pair with the wines in the area. Food in Carmel never disappoints, and I am always grateful to God that not only are we so richly blessed to have food to eat, but that it’s good food, our choice of food, prepared with care.

see that sink on the right? next to the microwave? saved our lives

3. An Opportunely Placed Sink

Our last night at the Inn, we decided to have a classic Aylesworth night in after dinner and enjoy champagne and popcorn while watching a movie. Except the microwave was faulty. And burned our popcorn. And when I say burned, I mean burned, as in caught fire. Thank the Lord I was standing right there and saw the bag ignite. I had a split second’s hesitation of “holy crap, what do I do?!?”  before I glanced down and remembered that because we were in the deluxe suite there was a deep metal sink right next to the microwave. One faucet blast later and we were staring down in shock at the charred, soggy mess that was our popcorn. We chose to use the stove to pop the corn after that.

buy local, eat local

4. Living in California, Where Good Local Produce is Always Available

While we were driving to Carmel Valley from Carmel-By-the-Sea (yes, it’s actually named that. Because it’s not a place, it’s a lifestyle.) we drove past a lot of farm land. As we came upon a sign for one of the farms, A and I pointed to it at the same time, because we recognized the logo as our preferred brand of leafy greens for salads. I try to buy local as much as possible, so I’d known that this farm was near our hometown, but actually seeing the sign pop up on our weekend getaway made it all so much more real. Not only does my food not have to make the trek across state lines, (using up fuel, oil, and being harvested prematurely so that it will survive the trip) but when I buy from this company I’m putting money back into the pockets on people in a community I love. It was a great reminder of the importance of buying locally, and a wonderful edification of my goal to live intentionally this year. I’m so grateful that it’s so easy to buy local in California, where we can grow fruits and veggies year round because our state freakin’ rocks.

give us a place by the sea, and we'll be happy

5. A Well-rested Hubby

A is an accountant. He works very hard all year round, but never more so than between January and April. Those months take the work load from steady to extreme. This year, he’s been working near-tax season hours since October, and it’s been really tough on him and on us. Right before he got the offer from the Inn in Carmel, he decided that despite the work piling up, despite the busyness, despite the crazy pace he and his co-workers were keeping, he was going to take the first week in January off. He’s taken some time to rest and renew, sleep in, gotten some housework done (but not too much!) and spent a lot of time conquering the universe on his games. He’s taken care of dinner the last few nights, letting me have time to fit in a run, and turned into the extra-wife-pampering husband he always becomes when he has some time off. I’m so grateful he has a job, especially one that recognizes the value of rest and let him get away before he burned out.

What are you grateful for today?

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Watch What I What?!?

12 Jan

Hold the phone, we have a winner for Christy’s new favorite commercial.

We don’t have network television, (we watch with a computer hooked up to our huge tv, and make do with Hulu and Netflix) so I don’t know if this ad has been around for a while and I just haven’t seen it. But I saw a slightly shorter version today for the first time and I almost spit out my fizzy water, because it’s the best counter cultural ad I’ve seen since that one Dove commercial.

I am forever telling my high school students to be filters of culture, not sponges. Sort of along the lines of “in the world, but not of the world,” but more specific. Being a filter of culture is all about looking at that which we take in with a critical eye. It’s asking ourselves “what message is this sending?” “What am I being sold?” “What assumptions am I being asked to make?” “Is there an ideal being set that I’m asked to buy into?” The questions one can ask are staggering. I apply this to television, books, media, news, music, and especially advertising. This is the first time I’ve seen a commercial ask the questions.

Watch What You Watch, sponsored by the Girl Scouts of America

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Friendship (And Other Concerns)

11 Jan

Have you ever had a moment where you’ve gotten a glimpse into a simple truth from a completely random source? A funny thing happened to me the other night. Not funny “ha ha,” but funny “huh.”

photo from alison tyne photography on etsy

A few of my girlfriends decided to form an impromptu virtual book club because we’d all been tweeting about how awesome The Hunger Games are. We were sitting around discussing the books, having a great time, and decided that the club needed to keep going. For that to happen we needed another book. We were all throwing out titles of books we’d read or heard were good, and Lady D. brought up a book she’d been thinking about reading: Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns) by Mindy Kaling. And something funny happened. As soon as we heard the title, every lady at that table said with one breath “oh my gosh, yes!” No, we weren’t saying we were into reading the book (though I have read it since then, and it is very funny), we all had the same reaction because at one time or another – probably more often than we care to admit – we’ve had that fear.

To be honest, I was completely shocked. I’d thought that was my fear. I looked around the room at all these beautiful women, women who I look up to, who have struggles and fears, sure, but who always seem to have it all together. Women who have fabulous tailored wardrobes and don’t struggle to find the right balance of accessories. Women who don’t call their friends after they’ve had too much wine to say how much they love them because they’re worried that no one cares. Women who look like the type of girl who could get a handful of friends together at a moment’s notice because everyone wants to hang out with her. And they all worried that everyone was hanging out without them, like I do? Shocked.

Not long ago I decided to get some wise counsel because I was feeling insecure. I realized that, after years of work and study, I’d learned to accept love from God and I learned that I was worthy of the love of my husband. But for some reason, I still felt like having friends was a fluke. Not all the time, but sometimes, I feel like an imposter who is living someone else’s life, and as soon as I do the wrong thing or say the wrong thing people are going to realize their mistake and won’t want to be my friend any longer. It’s a horrible insecurity for a 99% secure person to have, and I needed some help to get my mind to go somewhere positive when I started feeling insecure. My wise and wonderful therapist gave me some great advice, but nothing drove the stupidity of my insecurity home more acutely than seeing all these amazing women exclaim as one because they recognized themselves in a clever book title.

On New Life Live the other day, Dr. Henry Cloud told a caller with a question about excessive worry something along the lines of “you can’t keep a bird from flying over your head, but you can keep it from nesting in your hair.” So simple, so Philippians 4: 6-8. It’s what I did when I was learning to love God, refused to entertain the persistently knocking thoughts that said I’m not good enough for Him to love me. It’s what I did when I learned to love A, brushed away the thoughts that clung like cobwebs, saying that I didn’t deserve the love he was offering. So here are thoughts that I will work on letting fly over my head, like a nasty sea-gull that I would never dream of holding on to long enough for it to build a nest:

If people really knew me, they wouldn’t like me.

It’s A that people want to hang out with, I’m just the tag-along.

My friends are hanging out and I’m not invited. Do they not like me? Are we really friends? (This one is has been especially popular lately, thanks to twitter.)

People don’t get my humor and think I’m weird.

I’m too much sometimes, I need to be more like everyone else. (That one makes me laugh when I think about it, I love being uniquely me! But it still rears its ugly head sometimes…)

If I didn’t call/text/reach out to people no one would ever hang out with me.

No one really cares.

Fly away, crazy thoughts. You make no sense, you make me sad, and in the light of day you aren’t real. I won’t let you steal my joy. I am loved by many, and even if I wasn’t, I am loved by God. And that’s more than enough.

Do you ever let thoughts you know aren’t true get you down? There’s healing in sharing, my friends. Say it out loud, and know you’re not alone.

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How Tuesday: Peppermint Chocolate Cake Pops

10 Jan

Otherwise known as my attempt to keep the Starbucks Christmas spirit alive all year-long.

Our home group is famous for forgoing the studying before any type of a break and having a good, old-fashioned pig-out session instead. The week before we parted ways for the holidays was no exception, and we said hello to Christmas by bringing our favorite holiday confections. Caleb and Elaine made their killer eggnog, Adelle pimped some of G’s now infamous bread, and I tried my hand at making cake pops. But not just any cake pops, my friends. For my first cake pop adventure I had my heart set on recreating those minty, chocolately balls of deliciousness that has made me mosey into my local Starbucks for more than my usual morning cuppa. I’m sure Starbucks has a super secret recipe that mine is nowhere near (I use a store-bought cake mix because I’m lazy. ‘Nuff said.) but for my first attempt at cake pops ever, I think they came out great! And since Starbucks isn’t carrying them anymore (at least not around these parts*) I thought I’d share my approximation of the recipe for any fellow Peppermint Brownie Cake Pop junkies that are going through withdrawal out there.

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Two Doggy Tales, or How Can Such a Smart Dog Be So Stupid?

9 Jan

From right to left: Logan, the ever-handsome A, and the smart dummy.

Tale number one ( I swear I wouldn’t have believed it if it hadn’t happened right in front of me):

We got our dogs a new toy for Christmas, because, yes, we are that kind of dog owner. It was a stuffed giraffe, and it was adorable. Of course, the doggies had to compete to see who would claim ultimate ownership of New Toy. Traditionally Logan loves tennis balls more than anything, but he also is obsessed with whatever is new, especially if our baby dog, Martigan, wants it. Martigan will happily chase a ball, but his true love is stuffed toys, especially if they have squeakers, which New Toy did. So naturally Logan was dominating New Toy while poor Martigan looked mournfully on.

Martigan tried to get him to give it up; he tried to steal it, to muscle it away to no avail. He tried what I can only assume was canine coercion, doing a bark/whine combination while scooting his skinny butt forward. Logan was having none of it. After longingly looking on for five minutes (an eternity in puppy years) Martigan abruptly turned around and started rooting around in his toy box. (Yes, our dogs have a toy box. I already said we’re those kind of dog owners.) He emerged with a green tennis ball held haughtily between his teeth. He pranced around the room until he was in Logan’s direct line of sight, then forcefully dropped the ball, letting it bounce and roll for several feet. Instinctively, Logan was up on his feet, chasing the ball. Faster than you could say “oh, snap!” Martigan pounced on New Toy and carried it triumphantly away, while Logan looked on in confusion, ball clenched protectively between his teeth. All I could think was “dude, you just got played!” and “my dog is so freakin’ smart!”

Tale  number two (occurred about five minutes after tale number one):

I walk into my yarn room to look for an errant ball. My dutiful doggies followed me. As I’m sitting down on the guest bed examining the label on a hank of yarn, I hear a wet, slurpy sound. I look up to see my smarty-pants little puppy trying valiantly to lick a spot of sunshine that’s coming in through the blinds off of the wall. For five minutes. When he finally figures out that he can’t get it off, he switches to another spot six inches away. Rinse and repeat three times. What a dummy.

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