Sunday, August 12, 2007

-_\\\ *angst*

Leek is a wonderful vegetable. Most especially when you have bunches and bunches of very well grown, young, white, tender, delicious leeks. I am biased when I say my favorite way to eat them is Au Gratin. I have only ever eaten them Au Gratin. They are wonderful. A nice leek soup might be good someday... but au gratin is fine with me.

There’s neither an art or a science to bad days. They are a mysticism of their own. To define them, to cause them, or to cure them, I am at a loss. Recent experiences have only left me increasingly confused. Every day this summer has tried its best to start off terribly. Lack of sleep is a prime suspect, as is oversleep. Both culprits played their cards Saturday and Sunday respectively.

Saturday -

Waking up early, but not early enough, Saturday I proceeded to be rushed. I fly out the door to a van of irritated waiting people. We rush to the wedding and realize my zipper has come off track. I’m open from shoulder to the small of my back – were the zipper wedges itself – down to my skivvies. Weddings these days frown on nudity. I drop them off and drive home. Terrible so far yes. I pick them up and take them to the lunch. I go home again, but now with a mission. There is a farmer’s market in the park. I have never gone being asleep till noon most summer days. I’m a foodie who has never graced a farmer’s market. Hardly a foodie at all! I hop in my roasty car and go. I inwardly hoorah. It isn’t closed yet. I’ve made it on time… the day continues. My alone time gives me a bit of calm and serenity. I drop by my house to drop off my goods. Seven leeks for all of $3, a quart of blueberries for the same, two peaches, for a dollar more, and a pot of mascarpone from Bella’s a total of 30 cents fewer than it actually cost. After scrounging in the car for loose change the cashier sold it to me for what I had.

Sunday -

The day proceeded to a miraculous finish. Fulfilling some obligation to the community theatre, I help set up set. I scamper home, toss together dinner for my swimming familia, and head out the door to the town next over with my suitor and his family. We eat dinner and this posh eatery with wonderful food. When the waitress speaks of the ingredients complimenting each other, and food interactions (the herbed butter melts on the filet making a divine sauce) it should be pretty good. And then we hie to a Shakespeare play. Get back in time to catch a movie with my family, and go to bed happy, albiet late. I wrote another blog see.
Sunday’s curse of oversleep proved harder to throw. If I were not already a suspect for the bad day, my mother was. She rules a large part of the mood in the house. Just when I’d get myself awake enough to feel good she’d be showing her own temper and trigger mine again. I took turns being at peace with the world and myself - to door slamming, sibling thumping, pony stomping frustrated anger. The highlights – dancing the kitchen clean with my Zune, my leeks au gratin prep, and my 40 minute run while it baked. Alone time can feel so good sometimes.

In short, bad days are terrible to throw. Leeks are a wonderful vegetable. And I have only ever eaten them au gratin a total of three times.

Good days to you.

Saturday, August 11, 2007


Oprah is like another Mecca. Whether knowingly or not, people bow to her. She cultivates inspiration, aspiring change, and sucess. You can see it pool and flow around her. She has the wealth to irrigate fertile ideas and invest in potential. As amazing as it is to see her tend her gardens, more intriguing still are the bits and pieces of greenery sprouting up volunteer around her them. The woman draws ideas to her like ravines draw run-off.

Arriving home from work I always miss her show. What I'm finding is her website holds great content much more frequently. I could care less about Tom Cruise jumping around, or Chalize Therun believing wrinkles are the best. You don't always get specials about her amazing school in Africa or self help survival stories. On her website however - if you can find it - there is some wonderful content. I would post several examples, but my search techniques have only yeilded one.

An end to the the set up. What put me on the subject is this article. The title "Transition Anxiety" initially repels me from it, but the small intro sentence tacked below it draws me back in. "If you're always running late, carelessness might not be to blame—your perception of time could be the culprit," it reads. Well... that does describe me. I read it. And it does describe me. To a T. So... if you want to get to know me a smidgen better. If you want to know why I tell you to call 15 minutes before anything. Why I'm always late, unless I'm not. Read it.

Transition Anxiety by Martha Beck