Wild and Weedy

Last week I was sick. My digestive system went ballistic. I didn't leave the house for 48 hours, and when I did it was with some reluctance and a good dose of stomach-calming medication. I'm sure it had nothing to do with the strange, local delicacies I had been eating the week before. 


Usually our meals are pretty routine. It's not that we won't try new things. It's just that our choices are restricted by what's for sale, and that's usually limited to what people will buy. It often feels like our food supply is geared to the lowest common denominator. That doesn't normally bother me. There's safety and ease in going with what you know, but sometimes it's nice to break the routine. In the week before my digestive meltdown I had the opportunity leap out of my dietary rut on two occasions.  


My book club met that Wednesday. We managed to talk about the book, but only after we discussed the seasonal appetizer our hostess served. She had set out two shallow dishes containing damp, green, wavy...stuff. It was actually rather pretty, and at first I didn't realize it was meant to be eaten. When she explained what it was I was a bit skeptical. I tried it anyway. After all, she had waded into the cold March ocean to collect it for us, she had rinsed it repeatedly to remove all the grit, and she was organized enough to marinate it in soy sauce and rice vinegar in advance. I figured that kind of effort deserved at least a taste on my part. 


I selected a piece, tried to forget I was eating herring roe on seaweed, or spawn on kelp (SOK for short) as I later discovered it is generally called, and gave it a go. It tasted like the beach smells; like oyster guts. It wasn't spit-it-out gross, but I wasn't quite sure I liked it. I pondered the flavour for a while, then tried another piece. 


That second trial was the charm. In a Green-Eggs-and-Ham-esque moment I discovered I do like spawn on kelp. I do! I had to restrain myself from gobbling up every piece on the plate. The only things stopping me were my manners and my caution when trying new foods. I don't like to overdo on the chance that there may be strange reactions later. I woke feeling fine the next day, which probably led to my brave, weedy choice at the whole-foods store.


Actually, my choice wasn't that brave. I had accidentally tried nettles last spring. I say accidentally because I didn't really choose the nettles. They arrived in my vegetable bin, and as I don't like to waste food I had to use them. It took some research and a few phone calls to figure out how to prepare them, but once I tried them I was hooked. 


As a result, it hardly felt adventurous when, on the morning after my SOK experience, I bought nettles. On purpose. They went into risotto. I was so pleased with my daring dish that I was inspired to harvest some dandelion leaves from the yard for salad.


It's a good thing the risotto turned out well, as I made enough for 6 hungry people. You can see why, when I started to feel ill, my first thought was to blame my diet. How often do you eat weeds on 4 out of 7 days?  I was relieved when I returned to work and discovered that several others had succumbed to the same stomach bug. Selfish, I know, but having just discovered these wild and weedy culinary delights I'm not anxious to give them up.

Spring Blues and Greens

Spring officially arrives one week from today. You'd think I'd be energized by the fact. Instead I'm lagging and it shows. I've lost my momentum, and I'm too tired to do anything about it.

I always find the switch to Daylight Saving Time difficult. That loss of an hour throws me right off. My body doesn't know when to sleep or when to eat. My slim grasp of things temporal slips. I know it will get better, and I'm already appreciating the longer daylight hours in the evening, but the first few days are rough. This year the adjustment to the new time has been made even more difficult by interrupted sleep. 

Monday morning brought with it an immense wind storm. The wind battered and rattled the house so viciously that I was awakened by items falling off my shelves. The windows weren't open. This wasn't the wind blowing things around in the house. This was the sheer force of the wind shaking the house until things inside shifted. I thought it was an earthquake. Scary. Considering some of the damage others experienced I'm very lucky that the only thing that suffered was my sleep.

Tuesday brought a different kind of wake-up call. It was my day off, and I really thought I'd get to sleep in a bit. No luck. This time my sleep was interrupted by the call of the wild: a flicker had decided that my chimney was just the right spot to attract a mate. The crazy beastie was up there drumming like he was channelling Keith Moon. So much for sleeping in!

Both the storm and the horny wildlife are signs of spring, but given the lack of sleep it took me until this evening to realize it. Once I clued in I headed out to the garden to see what was coming up. All the green was just what I needed to melt away the exhaustion-induced blues.  

New growth on the bay laurel.

Strawberries peeking through the leaves.

That strange red blob is rhubarb! Transplanted it at an odd time last year. So glad its making an appearance. 

Rather out-of-focus oregano.

Chives. You'd never know I've already been harvesting these. They grow that fast.

A row of parsley that didn't thrive last year somehow made it through the winter and is showing signs of life.

Either spinach or chard. I didn't label it, as I didn't expect to see it. 

Housework Hell to Housework Happy

Welcome to everyone who has found me through the "Living the Creed Contest" over at "Making Love in the Kitchen". It's lovely to have you here. You've helped me to feel much less elusive. I hope you'll stop by again. 


It's now week three of this goofy little housework project I've set for myself. I suppose I should have a nifty title for this undertaking. "From Housework Hell to Housework Happy"? Hmmm. It has possibilities. Even after two weeks things are feeling a less hellish, but when I look around there's still quite a bit to do before happy is achieved. I guess I'm somewhere in the middle, hovering around "to". That's a good place to be, but "To" doesn't quite sum up what's happening. It's a bit too minimal for me anyway. I'll ponder this while I chip away at this week's chores. 


So the goals for this week were:

• Make the bed daily
• Wash breakfast dishes daily
• Wipe down the tub and tiles after each shower
• Clear the drain board each night

(When I see my goals listed like that they look so childish. Maybe I should call this project "Fortymumble Going on Five"!)


Once again, with Hubby's help, all goals were accomplished. Hooray! The morning chores are getting done, but I haven't quite developed a routine yet. As such, I'm avoiding giving myself anything new to do in the mornings. Instead, the goals for this week are:

• Continue with the tasks listed above.
• Wash any after-dinner dishes before bed. (For example, last night there were two beer glasses, a paring knife, a grapefruit knife and a mason jar hanging out sink-side at bedtime.)
• Check the menu plan for the next day and make sure any frozen ingredients get transferred to the fridge to thaw.

(That last one comes from my "Shop Your Freezer" project.  I came up with this goal when Friday's chili didn't get made until Saturday. Can you guess why? Don't know why I didn't think of defrosting my ingredients before it was too late. Sometimes the light bulb in my head is slow to go off. It must be a compact fluorescent bulb. "Dim Bulb Does Housework"?)


Post a comment below if you have a thought about what I should call my humble housework project. Oh! "The Humble Housework Project!" Maybe that's it. Unless you have a better idea, of course!

Giddy, Dazzled, Surprised and Excited!

Last week I posted a piece about wearing colour. After much anxious, hesitant deliberating I entered it in a contest over at Meghan Telpner's Making Love in the Kitchen.  Today I discovered that my piece was chosen as one of their four favourites. I'm giddy, dazzled, surprised and excited! 


Meghan's readers now get to choose their favourite, and yes, there are prizes involved. Head over to her website, check out the entries, and vote for your favourite. Hope it's mine!


Click here to head over to Meghan's website and vote!

Shop Your Freezer

Recently, I've started lurking on fashion/style blogs. One expression that the stylish writers use again and again is "shop your closet". It's about re-evaluating the clothing you already own and finding new ways to put existing pieces together. I think. I'm new to this whole fashion thing, but I'm pretty sure that's the basic idea. I like this concept. In fact, I like it so much that I'm going to expand it to the kitchen. For the next few weeks I'm going to "shop my freezer". 


We have two freezers in our home: a basic freezer atop the fridge and a compact chest freezer in the basement. Last week I braved the sub-zero temperatures and plowed my way through the contents of each. There were some interesting discoveries. Several unidentifiable items, apparently relics from the last ice-age, were sent away for further analysis. "Away" in this case means to the dump. I hate to waste food, but it had to go.  


Even after I culled the science experiments there was way, way more food than I realized. I don't know what I'm hoarding it for. Emergencies? Should disaster strike, hydro will be the first thing to go. Without an operational fridge, freezer, stove or oven I'll never be able to use everything before it goes funky. It's time to use this stuff. As Gretchen Rubin would say, it's time to spend out. 


When I plan our meals for the week I usually sit down with some recipes and the sale flyer. Then I look at what's in the fridge and see what needs to be used first. Then, if I think of it, and I have some meals left to plan, I look to see what's in the freezer. For the next while I'm going to start with the freezer and plan from that. It will be a challenge, but I'm kind of excited about it.  I'll let you know how it goes. I'm already looking forward to getting back to the food aspect of the blog. 

Small, Dancing Steps

Last week I set some modest goals for myself housework-wise. Today I'm proud to report that those tasks were completed every day last week. Woo hoo! Insert modest victory dance here...


My goals were to make my bed and wash my breakfast dishes, so they weren't all that difficult to accomplish. I had Hubby's help too. He leaves so early for work that trying to accomplish anything but the basics would require him to get up before he went to bed. He chipped in on his days off though, which made things easier for me. It makes me all warm and fuzzy to know that he's still got my back after all these years.


Overall I feel a little less overwhelmed by all the house-related stuff I've let slide over the years. Having accomplished something small each day, I feel a little less anxious about enjoying my leisure time. Could it be I'm a little more content?


I'm also finding it easier to take on other small tasks. Last week I started cleaning out the file cabinet, and I went through both our freezers and updated my inventory lists. (I keep a dry-erase board on each freezer. Each time I add or remove something I update the list. Or at least I try to. Obviously I hadn't been as diligent as I thought, as both lists needed updating. There were some forgotten, well-aged, almost unidentifiable things in the deepest, darkest recesses of both freezers.) 


I'm starting to see things I had stopped noticing. A few random, overused clothing items went into the trash. Other long-unworn items went into the donation box. I rediscovered a jacket my aunt gave me. It had been hiding in the coat closet downstairs. I had forgotten all about it. I've worn it twice now and have had compliments each time. Compliments increase my contentment, more confirmation that my wee project is working. 


On Saturday Hubby was waiting for me to get ready so we could head out to run errands. As I brushed my teeth I remembered an old, elastic headband in the drawer beside me. I don't know why I kept it. It had lost its sproing long ago and was of no use whatsoever. I figured I'd take a second and trash it before I forgot about it. A half an hour later, I had not only disposed of the offending headband, I had emptied the entire drawer, sorted all the stuff, tossed much of it (Because really, unless I'm going to take up lock-picking, do I need 37 bent hairpins?) and selected several items to donate. (In spite of my vow to wear more colour, I can't imagine ever wearing neon-orange scrunchies again.)


When Hubby came to see what I was doing I was vacuuming a wig's-worth of stray hair from the drawer before I put the remaining stuff back. Hubby calls this phenomenon "falling down the rabbit hole". I need to be aware of this tendency. Hubby may be patient when I wander into wonderland and lose track of time, but somehow I doubt my employer will be. 


With that in mind, I'm keeping this week's goals simple. I'm going to continue to make my bed and wash the breakfast dishes. In addition, I'm going to wipe down the tub and tiles after I shower. I already do this most mornings. I'm hoping stating it here will help me to do it more often.  I'm also going to clear the drain board before going to bed each night. Doing the breakfast dishes will be easier if I don't have to put away the dishes from the night before first. Please note that this doesn't necessarily mean I'm going to dry the dishes. I'm just going to put them away when they've air-dried. Don't want to overtax myself with all these goals. 

Wear Colour!

If you visit my blog you won't find one self-portrait. I've grown fond of my Elusive Laurie persona. In fact, the one time I was recognized as Elusive Onions' author I was completely unnerved. There is safety in being an enigma. As much as I find comfort in my anonymity, Meghan's engagement announcement has inspired me to share a picture of myself on my wedding day ten years ago.

Aren't I a lovely bride in my flowing white gown?

Ummm...

Right from the start I knew I wanted to be married in a red dress. This proved to be more difficult than I had anticipated. There isn't a local bridal shop, and I didn't know a good seamstress at the time. Ready-made red dresses were in short supply that spring. 

In a panic I tried on a couple of traditional-ish, whitish dresses. They only strengthened my resolve to find my red dress. No one wants to see (or be!) a puffy, pasty bride. That's how I felt in each conventional bride's dress I tried.

I'd heard other brides talk about the moment when they found "the dress". They made it sound as though they had discovered the Holy Grail. I thought they were nuts. That was before I found my dress. From the moment it was fastened I knew it was "the one". I had joined the ranks of nutty brides-to-be, but I didn't care. 

Hubby and I traveled back to Ontario to celebrate our marriage with family and friends. The ceremony took place on the campus where we met. (An added bonus of choosing this dress: I found it in a shop that specializes in travel/cruise wear. I was able to toss the dress into my backpack for the trip. It didn't leave my sight for the entire flight, and on arrival all I had to do was shake it out, hang it up, and I was ready to go.)

On our return to Vancouver Island I landed my first job in my new, post-teaching career. It may be a coincidence, but from that point on my wardrobe became duller and duller. I gradually went from the bride in the flame-red dress to a woman whose work wardrobe consisted of black, navy and grey. I didn't even realize that there had been a change until I saw Meghan's post and the accompanying video about wearing colour.  I admit I got a bit weepy. Meghan and Jessi touched on an ache I didn't even know I had. 


I was determined to take action. A few days later I hit the Value Village for the first time and came home with a bag full of COLOUR! 

Four pieces for less than $30! Woo hoo!

My new acquisitions prompted some serious wardrobe experimentation. While experimenting I discovered:

• I had much more colour in my wardrobe than I realized. I had just stopped wearing it. 
• My curves can still rock a bright sweater, given the right bra, of course.
• Already-owned pieces could be combined to create new, colourful outfits. 
• It's fun to have a fashion show for yourself.
• I was excited to be adding colour back into my outfits!

Eventually the excitement led to nervousness. A private fashion show for myself was one thing. Taking the show on the road was more nerve-wracking than I had expected. What if I looked silly?  I wasn't sure I had the self-confidence to wear my new togs out of the house. 

In an attempt to overcome my self-conscious reluctance, I started my adventure into the world of colour with pieces I already owned but had never worn together.  They were pieces I liked and was comfortable in, yet I was still nervous. I also chose to start on a short work day. If things went horribly wrong I only had a few hours to struggle through. 


That day, I left dressing to the last minute. It was a good thing I did. If I had had more time I would have changed my mind and changed my clothes! I spent a few seconds examining myself in the mirror and gnawing on my thumbnail. I'm not usually a nail biter. That should give you an idea how nervous I was, but as time was limited I had to head out the door. 

This is the outfit that caused such nail-biting nervousness.

I'd like to say that day changed my life forever. Life doesn't work that way though. I did get good responses from my co-workers. It was hard for them not to notice I wasn't cloaked in my usual funereal garb. When I explained the change, one woman was inspired enough to ask for Meghan's website. You know I'll be watching her for changes!

There have been a few challenging moments. One old fart of a customer felt the need to appreciate the colour of my new shirt with his fingertips. I did NOT slap him, though I was tempted. Another regular customer jokingly told me I looked like a slut. That one shook me. She also told my co-worker she looked like a farmer, so it wasn't just my outfit she was critiquing. 

Overall the experience of adding colour has been positive. Most days I'm in a better mood. (Not always a good mood, just better.) It's even getting easier to get out of bed in the morning. (Easier, not easy.) When a friend invited me to paint with her at her studio, I accepted. As I'm not particularly talented art-wise, there was a part of me that was tempted to decline. Somehow the craving for colour prompted me to go for it. I had so much fun I went the next time she asked too, and I displayed my primitive (but colourful) works in my home on book club night. 

This photo was taken at the studio while the paint was drying. My home isn't papered with newsprint. Honest. 

I still get nervous when I wear a new outfit in public, but that unease is usually mixed with excitement. Now on the days when the laundry is undone, I'm falling back on the dark clothes in my closet to see me through. It used to be the other way around. I'm surprised at how quickly I've become adverse to those dull outfits. On the days when they are necessary I try to add colour, even if it's with something as subtle as bright socks. 

Six socks for $60! Woo hoo?

My adventure into the world of colour is leading me to some fun, new places. I may even rediscover myself on the journey, provided I knew who I was before.  I'm excited to see what's ahead. Elusive Laurie might finally be coming out of her shell. I'm beginning to feel like that's a good thing.