Can't Can Help?

How many times...
in your day is can't said?

How many times...
do you say "you can't"?

How many times...
do you think "I can't"?

How many times
does "can't" need to be said?

How many times...
do you need to hear 'you can' before you believe it?

How many times...
will you tell someone they can?


Its not just a word. Its a feeling. A numbing admittance. You thought you could, but you can't.

With the nonchalance of shooing a fly new ideas and young hopes are batted away. How often I say or think, "except you can't".

You can't do a triple back flip and kick the robber in the face, before hand springing onto your bike and pedaling away at the speed of light.

Maybe you can't... but who am I to put "can't" in your head?

So many things I write off as "I thought I could, but I really can't". What other conclusion could I draw, having no evidence of my ability to do said feat? Being thus put down by myself, I then assign others the same inability. What has changed since I thought that I could? My perception.

Its been too long since I thought I could. I must have been mistaken. That Can is too old. That means it's a Can't.

Yet I realize.

"Can" only has the shelf life you assign it. You can... you just maybe haven't yet. >.O

-_\\\ *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.

Documento

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

Envy

Terrible thing. Pretty color. Why did envy turn green? American paper currency is sort of green, but is that where it originated? That wouldnt really make any sense either. Well, I turned copper with envy when I saw how many pennies she had. That doesnt work very well at all.

Green is often related to evil. The Wicked Witch of the West was green (neither her color or wickedness are ere reasoned). Slytherin's colors are green and (white is it? or silver...). It is in costume theory related to envy, greed, and evil, but green is a color of plant life and renewal. Energy, rebirth, youth are embodied by that color too. The original point you may remember being why is envy green?

When I am envious I dont feel particularly green. I would almost say purple, but I dont think that gives purple any justice either. Black already has enough ill thoughts assinged to it. I suppose the best thing to say about envy is it makes me feel bruised. (not in a good 'hey look i have a bruise' way either). I want something, and at the same time I want to not want it. On top of that I'm working on convincing myself that I have just compensation. Mixxed within is a frantic assesment of my chances of aquiring this that is envied. Feeling bad for envy and then trying to decide if I really want this thing for myself. So I usually avoid it as I can.

And So It Spreads

Welcome to the wonderful, suductive, and hungry world of foodporn. With flickr and digital photography abounding, its becoming impossible to see it all, let alone try it all. Dont be discouraged!

TasteSpotting gets gives you some prime images. Eclairs speak tongues, but there are beautiful food finds for all levels of eaters here. A collection of beautiful square food things with links to their information (no beautiful blog to save till you have time). From sushi to the chocolate chip to what the heck is that... Take a gander. Feed your addiction. Go to bed hungry.

All I can say... dang, I wish my camera could get that close.

Olive

I wonder if I shall ever enjoy eating olives. I dont mind the tin flavored ones from the Albertsons can. The ones from jars however have given me considerable trouble. I dont know as I've bought the right kind. Did I leave my chedder and buy the first block of blue I could find? In such a case with olives it would be little wonder I havnt aquired a taste for them.


I want to try an olive with a vague olive oil flavor. No tin. But not strangely bitter, mouth drying, grainy goo held together by a rubber skin! All marinated in some sort of pickled concoction, no less! I need to research which is a mild flavored olive, and try a nice brand.






Further down on my list of purchasing, a bottle of Lucini Extra Virgin Olive Oil. Its pretty, green, and I've been recomended by several to try it. They have some in stock at my Bella's (a beautiful little gourmet store). Fifteen dolars give or take. I think I might get some soon. I'll need to pull some sorta crazy Italian cookery masterpeice to show off all my great ingredients. Sun dried tomatoes, olive oil, pine nuts... I've got some goods. And mascarpone is now only $7, down from its original $15 per imported tub! Hopefully this new brand will be equally tasty.


Up next, been craving a salad from a local restraunt. Realized that because it had no dressing, I could replicate it myself. Just need some flavor power houses, some quick grilling and pow. Angry Chicken Salad, as it was called. Bacon, mushrooms, onion, bell pepper on romain with chicken. I got it down. And I'll toss on just a little bit of my favorite ceasar 'cuz thats how I like it.

Another Great Mystery

Ever wonder why they still call Lipton's Onion Soup Mix, soup? The space on the back is filled with four recipes. Meatloaf, potatoes, pot roast, sour cream dip. That’s ok. These are pretty fine recipes... (Ok, so I've only tried the taters and dip). You think to yourself, the soup recipe must be on the side. To the right, the ever percent nutritional value. To the left... a hamburger recipe. Top? Bottom? Neither. There is no onion soup instructions. Readily improvisable... just add water for a nice onion broth, just enough for good flavor. Have you ever heard of anyone actually making the soup from this soup mix? I never have. I think I'll try it this week. AND I'll post pictures. Coincidentally, there isn’t one on the net of prepared Lipton's Onion Soup, that I could find.