This year I went a tad crazy with resolutions/2012 goals.  The news of Tom’s promotion came to us sometime in the beginning of December with the agreement it started in January.  That kind of threw everything I knew about 2012 into a blender, added some ice and gave me whiplash.

(Alas, this does not mean he’s been traveling less.  If anything, he’s travelling more since he’s driving back and forth to the warehouse in GA  (the one we really wish he’d get assigned to run) because its start date is earlier than the FL one and they need his help.  Driving instead of flying is dangerous for a workaholic because it’s so easy to add juust-ooonee-mooree-thiiiinnnng onto his plate before driving home.  He got in after 10pm one Friday, which never happened when he flew everywhere.  And he loves to leave at 4am Monday morning to get a head start on traffic.  Bah.)

Once my head kinda settled, I immediately wanted some spreadsheets and lists.  It’s not really possible for me to plan much of 2012 yet with so much up in the air.  But the combination of the new year and my determination to make the best of this situation for myself made for some crazy uber-lofty re-make-the-world-I-live-in-and-how-I-live-with-it statements.  I CAN DO ALL THE THINGS!

I have some huge items on that list.  Hiking.  Spending extra time at the cabin.  Getting a job.     Hopefully in that order because I’m pretty sure a new employer would not take kindly if I asked for two months off straight away.

These things, like my health, I am considering “goals”.  By which I am defining with my quotations to mean, “Large end events that require much subsequent planning, details, support and additional spreadsheets.  Maybe an App or two.”

But there are much more simple things that made the list as well.  Things that perhaps came about while thinking about these larger goals.  Some are hopes/ideals sprung from the vision I have for Tom and myself when we are living in something different than a breadbox 3 stories in the sky and his drive home is less than 8 hours.

These smaller, simpler items fall more into the “resolution” category.  And all of them follow the basic theme of less and more.

More Birthdays.  I am horrible at keeping in touch with people.  Isn’t everyone?  Yet each year I am constantly surprised by the number of emails, cards, calls, and texts I get from across the world on my birthday.  It warms my heart.  I want to do that for people.  So this year I resolve to send real, true snail-mail cards for people’s birthdays.

Less water.  I’m probably the only person in the world who needs to make this resolution.  But I can drink between 7-9 liters a day.  That’s 3-4 times your 8 a day.  I’m not pre-diabetic.  I’ve never had an adverse reaction or electrolyte imbalance.  I started drinking lots of water in college when I battled the freshman 20 (I am an overachiever in EVERYTHING) and heard how good it was for losing weight.  Then it kind of just morphed and ramped up.  It’s possible it’s even a bit of a social crutch.  Can’t think of anything to say?  Suck on a straw and nod!  But as much as Drs have not found anything bad associated with this phenomenon, I’m not seeing much good to it either.  I fill up on water so much I don’t think I have a healthy gauge on what an empty/full stomach feels like.  And at some point I’m just wasting water – the extra liters than go right through me PLUS the flush it takes to get rid of it.  So I want to limit myself to 4-5 liters a day.

More Music.  Once upon a time I owned a 51-rack CD player.  The stereo was set up near the front door and I didn’t have cable.  Instead of mindless TV as background noise, I hit “shuffle” and heard discs physically rotating from song to song.  Now I own an old generation iPod Nano that has no off switch and a sound system that doesn’t support charging.  It seems every time I think to hook the two up, the Nano is out of juice.  I’m going to get better about charging it or get a new system that will eliminate this problem.  Also, thanks to a generous Christmas gift card, I am buying 1 new song a week for my running/workout mixes.  I should also resolve to sync the nano/computer/iPhone more often so I share this music.  OK.  Done.

Less recycling.  Again with the bizarro world resolution.  But this is also about more reducing and re-using.  As I get pickier about the foods we eat, the containers they come in get simpler.  We re-use any plastic bag or bag-like packaging for cleaning up around the house (I am very careful about ripping the smallest hole possible in the toilet paper packaging so it has future use).  I have started saving glass containers to re-use instead of Tupperware.  Our biggest recycling need these days is paper.  Any advice on how to not get junk mail flyers is appreciated.  My biggest waste right now is yogurt containers because my county recycling was created with the concern of food waste rotting in the dumpsters under the FL sun.  So instead of being allowed to recycle plastic by coded number, I may pitch anything in that, “Has a neck.”  WTF?  The hardest thing for me about this resolution means I cannot willy-nilly shop for super-cheap produce at Aldi’s because most of it comes packaged in Styrofoam and cellophane.

More Reading.  And less re-reading.  I have three or four authors I adore and I rotate through their books as bedtime reading.  I also tend to not tackle harder books because I was only reading at bedtime and I need soft, fluffy reading which does not hurt my head mentally or physically when I fall asleep and face plant into it.  I’m trying to set aside some time during the day to read the heavy stuff and to use paperbackswap.com to come up with new material.

Less Email Checking.  I will finally listen to all those productivity experts.  I love, love, love my Smartphone and I believe it has enhanced my life a hundred fold.  Just getting to play a game while waiting for the Dr eases my stress.  And being able to listen to music, track my run AND have 911 easily available all on one device is priceless.  But I have definitely gotten into the habit of checking email way too often.  And for what?  I work part-time.  For my computer-less grandmother.  My husband calls for everything and anything.  My friends text for need-to-know-now information like if I’ve seen a black belt with a silver buckle since that Vegas trip.  Email is a time suck.  I hope to get in this habit now so that when I do land a job I can carry this over when it will mean I’m being more productive.  Versus right now when it means I have more time to watch Netflix.

More Cooking.  More crockpotting.  More new ingredients.  More new recipes.  More menu planning.  As I foray deeper and deeper into the desire to understand where my foods have come from and how they were created, I want to make sure this expands my food experience, not shrinks it.  Over the holidays I had several recipe “crutches” that I just made and remade and froze and reheated.  Yes, they are tasty.  But it got boring.  I am trying to shake up the taste buds.  I also continually get stressed over Friday dinners because I volunteer in the morning/afternoon and am almost always too tired to prepare the planned meal.  If only someone created a special pot wherein I could put ingredients in the morning and they would magically be a meal come evening…Sometimes I astound myself with these little “duh” moments.

So, if we pretend I told you all that at the beginning of January….I am doing pretty well on some fronts.  I used the crockpot on two Fridays.  I’ve made my own pizza crust, scones, and doughnuts.

I’m into Serious Book #2 (Nim Chimpsky).  Yes, most of my serious books will revolve around animals – captive or wild.

Thanks in part I’m sure to my decision to not drink for the 1st month of the year, I haven’t had to do any glass recycling in 2012.  And I’m down to every-other-week on the other recycling.

I’ve sent out 4 birthday cards so far although I did realize one glitch in my plan…I thought it would be a nice way to catch up with people I don’t talk to often.  But then I had my first opportunity to do so and it felt very weird to write all about myself in a card supposedly sent to celebrate the other person.  So I just fell back on writing about how long we’d been friends and awesome, yay, happy birthday.

I have no idea how I’m doing on the water.  I think better.  My main gauge right now is to not re-fill water bottles immediately but try and drink through all of them (I have 3-4) and take note of that before I double-dip for the day.

I need to work on the email checking.  I have no real tangible goal for this.  Do I get to check it at certain times of the day?  Only a certain number of times?  Right now I am going for, “Don’t check email while driving.”  Yeah.  I suck.

My nano is still un-synced for 2012.  But I’ve gotten a little better about charging it and playing it while I’m working around the house.  And I have kept up with  buying myself a new song almost every week.  This week I had to skip because I bought two songs last week.  In a I-must-hear-it-now fit, I downloaded “Domino” by Jessie J last Friday.

This post is written because I am trying to stick to my resolution to write every day.  I have a half-dozen, half-started documents in a file labeled “2012 writing”.  But today my brain is mud and staring at a blank Word document seems more daunting than filling up a WordPress widget.

Once upon a time, I started a blog because I had very strong feelings and wanted an outlet for them.  I also had given up writing for years and missed it like crazy.  I enjoyed blog writing a lot.  And even before my divorce was final, I think I had found a voice as a “romance” or “dating” blogger.

Man.  I’d love to go on a first date right now just to be able to wax poetic about it.

But not enough to go through a second divorce.  Even if I did keep my own name this time.

I also gave very little thought as to how…accurate? factual? my blog posts were.  I considered it fiction, based loosely on my life.  I wished to entertain and if that meant I wrote I was devastated when a guy didn’t go for the first kiss when in real life I was nonplussed?  Ah well.  The show must go on.

These days I feel a bit at a loss when I write here.  I’ve gained a husband, but lost a voice.  I want to write well again, not just rush to put something up here because too much time has past since my last post.

So I’m writing every day.  Sometimes therapeutic, sometimes instructional.  Sometimes funny?  But I’m giving myself the space to do so on my hard drive.  Away from the pressure of other eyeballs and mouse clicks.

Hopefully this means posts will get more frequent and funnier around here.  But don’t hold your breath.  It’s only January 9th after all.

So far my 2012 has started with:

1) A gray hair in my EYEBROW.

2) A zit on my chin.

3) A wicked hangover everywhere else.

At least it’s shaping up to be a memorable year.

Over a year ago, we had a homeless person living in our neighborhood.  I found this out by coming upon him sleeping in a sort of pagoda that is part of the nature boardwalk I sometimes take Lady dog on in our morning walks.

It’s a small, fairly well-off neighborhood.  (As in, I believe our neighbors wish our condos were not dragging down property values).  And while I chose to buy here in part for the locale and ease of commute to several Bay area destinations, it’s not really feasible to get from here to anywhere by foot.

By the time I had decided what I wanted to do to help this person out -left a ziplock bag with clean socks, a clean shirt, some wet wipes and fast-food gift cards under “his” bench- he had figured out his daily commute from our safe park to where ever was not worth it.  A few days later, I retreieved the untouched goodie bag.

This is not something I would have done in Chicago.  Growing up, I saw a homeless person in my neighborhood every day.  Several times a day if I went somewhere besides around the block or school.  I did carry some change to hand out and supported Streetwise.  But moving from Chicago to a tourist destination meant the homeless in my area were no longer in my face on a regular basis.  FL cities do a lot to make sure people looking for the Disney experience don’t experience pan handlers as well.

Because of this, when I see someone on a street corner with a cardboard sign I almost always give them something.  And I make a point of taking off my sunglasses, looking them in the face, and asking if they are having an OK day.

Yes, it makes this little privileged white girl feel like she’s really…connected…with this soul who wants her dollar.

For what it’s worth, I started doing this because of the positive response and handshakes I received each time.

But this guy sleeping in my neighborhood…he really made me think about wanting to make a real difference to someone.  Making a real difference in a 30-second interaction because I have already committed the other 23 hours, 59 minutes and 30 seconds of my life to making a difference for animals that cannot hold a cardboard sign and are usually dead when by the side of the road.

This brought up many discussions with friends about what to do for a panhandler and the unfortunate substance abuse that often goes along with being down on your luck.  Does handing someone a few bucks equate to handing them their addiction?  And is that our place to judge?

The end result is that for over a year, I have carried in my car’s middle console 5-dollar gift cards to the most established fast food restaurant in our area.  This ensures the receiver must purchase food (or be savvy enough to trade it for something else).  The receiver gets enough from me for a meal – I know if no one else stops for that person all day they will have one meal.  This also ensures I have a conversation with the receiver – I am upfront with what I have on me and give them the option of accepting or not.

I also usually have in the car somewhere a new clean T-shirt and new socks, but I have never had an instance where the stoplight was long enough to determine if those would be welcome additions as well.

Even though I am a little privileged white girl, just giving away five bucks willy-nilly needs accounting in our budget.  I mean, I don’t even get Tom a lotto ticket every week.  So he was a participant in the discussions that led to this decision.  He agreed with my solution and as the primary driver on our weekend errands has given away more than his fair share of cards.

Today, coming home from a way too involved and time consuming but enjoyable afternoon with friends at a street fair, there was someone with a cardboard sign at our turn from US 19 onto Ulmerton.

Me: I can’t read what his sign says from here….We have one card left, do you want to give it to him?

Tom: Yes, I think I do.

Me: Don’t forget to ask him if he really wants it.

Tom: I know, I know.

(It’s possible I say this EVERY TIME Tom gives out a gift card.)

The gentleman came over, hurrying with a limp (affected or not, who knows).

Tom explained what we had to offer.

The man’s eyes lit up like we offered him his weight in gold.

We had enough time to watch him limp back to his post (we were several cars into the lane, so it wasn’t safe for him to dally by our side).  He turned his back to the line of cars and unraveled the package, clearly excited.  (I wrap each card in its receipt.  I do not want the restaurant to have a reason to deny the person.)

Me:  Thank you.  I’m so happy you are on board with this.

Tom:  Baby, we work hard to be kind to all the animals.  That should include people.

Ahmen.

Sometimes I reread my posts where I’ve said, “I’m really not <insert personality trait here>”, and I think, “Oh hell YES YOU ARE!”  Just usually not about the particularly topic, or in a particular situation, or around certain people.  It’s rather funny to see my pathetic juxtaposition punchline that only holds true to those specific words.

But one thing that is always, always, always true is that I’m not one to read instructions.  I have personality testing and years of extra screws from build-your-own-furniture kits to back me up on that one.

And I have the beans.

Today, fed up with the ingredients on a can of beans that were other than “Beans”, I bought dry beans to cook for the first time ever.  (Besides lentils, which I only started cooking this past year.)

I knew you could not just throw them into your tofu-Mexican-mix and chow down minutes later.  (I suppose we could call it tofu- fajita-less-fajitas, or tofu-taco-less-tacos.  Or bunch-of-veggies-with-some-tofu-crumbles-and-Mexicanish-spices-to-be-eaten-in-a-bowl-because-I’m-not-wasting-100-calories-on-a-wrap.  You get my drift.)

I had heard of soaking beans overnight before cooking them.  I have a vague memory of watching my father or Tom doing such.  I’m probably remembering some movie scene, but whatever.  Point is, I knew I should read some directions.

And I did!  I read that I could soak them over night, or I could bring them to boil for 2 minutes, then let them sit for an hour.  It was about 4:15, so plenty of time to get my beans good and soaked before dinner.

At 5:32 I became concerned with the…crunchiness…of said beans.  (A mixture of black and pinto, if you are curious.)

I was so concerned that as the mushrooms, onion, and bell pepper sauteed just a wee bit longer, I pulled out the bean packaging and read some more.

It turns out that after the soaking instructions, there are COOKING instructions.  Which include another hour or TWO in some more hot water.

Thank goodness I was prepared.  I may not read instructions, but I do a mean grocery trip.  Along with beans, mushrooms, onions, tofu, and bell peppers, I also bought wine.

This post is courtesy of my first glass.

Gotta go check the beans.

Sometime in the spring when I felt very out of control and frustrated and at a loss for what to do next, I bought a flip-top pad of graph paper and a package of blue gel-ink pens.

These two things make me happy.  I love to write on graph paper.  I love to write with blue gel-ink pens.  Voila.  All my problems were solved.

OK.  Not quite.  But I did use them to work towards solving things.  I made lists.

Lots and lots of lists.

Lists of things to do daily.  Do weekly.  Do monthly.  A checklist for my Gma visit.  A must-have-in-the-fridge starter list for groceries.  The menu for the week.

But I did not end up with graph paper and gel-ink in hand because I was unaware the cat litter needed daily cleaning or I should pack dress shoes to take Gma to dinner.  Nor was it the case that I had so much free time on my hands that I needed to sit down and really think of what to do next.

I was there because the world had turned cancerous and uninterested in my resume and adament I hold on to the last 15 lbs of fat keeping me from feeling normal.

I did not need a to-do list to look at in the evening and think of how I had failed again.  But I did need to document life to the effing bagillionth degree.  I needed that much control.

So, instead of calling it a to-do list, I labeled the first sheet “An Ideal World”.

In an indeal world, everyday the dishes, clothes, kitchen counters, and floors have all had some attention to avoid disasters.

In an ideal world, everyday I floss, moisturize with SPF, and shower.

In an ideal world, everyday I write something, read something fun, read something serious, and play with each and all of the pets.

I never cross off or check mark these items.  They are not to be tossed away with new priorities the next day.  This list may evolve but it’s presence is to remind me of the important, concrete goals I can accomplish every day to make my life happy, healthy and sane.

Today is the first day in several months I’ve looked at the list.  It felt good.

Since coming home from Vegas, I have suffered the following:

1) Major stomach aches  (Monday I worked around the house but by afternoon felt too zonked to drive so I ate all the proccessed snacks Tom had left around.  Yuck.)

2) A sprained ankle/shin splints (I stumbled off the curb walking the dog on Monday.)

3) Raging sinus infection.  This one I did not even recognize until over half a day in.  What’s with this headache?  And when did someone pack a bowling ball in my right eye socket?

I’d say I’m lucky in that the infection truly seems content to remain in my sinus cavity.  No cough, no fever, no nothing else.

So I would say that, if the pressure in my skull would allow for coherent speech.

And if I weren’t so scared of jinxing myself for tomorrow.

This week Tom is working locally.  I will be flying to Vegas for a conference Thursday night and he’ll be the one stuck at home alone for the weekend.

This means he’ll realize how cushy my life really is when he’s out of town.  I suspect it will be extra cushy since we have different definitions of “clean house”.

(The conference is for something so hush-hush in my life I didn’t even consider writing about it.  Until we finish the big hike next year, I am not putting too much energy into planning our next great move in life.  But suffice to say, after the hike we may be helping get a new organization off the ground and this conference is a step to learning the steps.)

I woke up this morning feeling dizzy.  Just slightly.  Just enough that I need to make a conscious effort to focus and make sure I’m seeing things straight.  I’ve eaten, taken my blood pressure (normal), and managed a small drive down side streets to run a few necessary errands.  It’s getting no worse, but also no better.  I’m stressing about it, which I’m sure isn’t helping.

Of course, I’m not stressed that I have a strange symptom that could lead to some horrible illness.  I’m just pissed off it’s making me less productive during a week when I actually have shit that needs doing.

I have a few posts in the works…my running post was nixed for a while because I developed shin splints and could barely hobble.  Yes, I know that did not hinder my ability to TYPE.  But it is depressing to try and write about how much you kick ass when you feel like you are on the other end of that phrase.

After playing with various variables, I think I have finally figured out that it was my cute-but-thin running socks.  They allow my feet to move too much inside my shoe so my orthotics doesn’t hit my foot right.

I’d make some “gee, orthotics I must be old” joke but I’ve been wearing them since I was 21.  I’ve been your grandma since I was legal drinking age.  The orthotics go nicely with my gray hair.

(I was with a friend recently who pointed out I was the youngest of our group.  “Yes, the youngest but with the most gray hair!”  And I think that statement holds true even if I wasn’t also the laziest and cannot be bothered to get my dye on.)

I’ve also made some huge changes to my diet.  I’m “juicing” (making my own fresh vegetable and fruit juice, usually replacing lunch or dinner with just juice) and in general eating a shit-ton of produce.  But the plan is to do this for a month to see if it has the desired effects so I’m still in research mode.  Except I will share that today my fridge is filled with collard greens, kale, kiwi, granny smith apples, cucumber, carrots, celery, red onion, oranges, ginger root, and a lemon.  Not to mention the big bag of salad, half
an avocado and 2 cups of broccoli I finished off yesterday.

Having a fridge full of fruits and veggies is one of my favorite things.  And whiskers on kittens are pretty neat, but they have nothing on the fact that today I *finally* *finally* cleaned the new girl tiger who is angry and scared of the whole world with out her charging, roaring, and leaping onto the cage wire.  I even took my lunch out there and sat in her eye sight and by the time I was done she was peaking out of her den.  I could see the tail flicking behind her, just ready to show me how big and bad she is if I made the wrong move.  But I didn’t.  I just explained to her that the peach yogurt is my least favorite in the variety pack so I was eating it first because I like saving the best for last.

(Talking to angry/scared animals will get them used to you.  Some people read magazines to the cats.  I just share my inner train-of-thought magazine.)

In fact, today was pretty much full of my favorite things.  I got up and exercised early.  (No running again yet, but I did sweat buckets on the elliptical with my orthotics and 1980s puffy gym socks)  Had my usual blueberry/green smoothie. (Although I made it with collard greens instead of spinach because a friend mentioned she liked it that way.  Collard greens are definitely NOT one of my favorite things and will not be making an encore performance in the In Progress kitchen.)  Got my shit together and out the door on time.  Started the Roomba too and it actually cleaned today instead of pouting by the cat litter.  Had a good time cleaning/ not being mauled at the sanctuary.  Ran 6,497 errands on the way home and had them all play out exactly how I imagined.  Took a shower.  Vegged in front of the computer knowing I had accomplished so much I could goof off the rest of the day.  There is nothing better than that feeling.

My mom flies in tonight.  Part of the reason for the 7,892 errands.  She’s just tagging along on my regularly-scheduled Gma trip this week.  Everything is very up in the air about Gma’s condition.  But she’s feeling pretty normal right now and it is awesome that Mom will get to visit and see her.

But for now, I have to go juice some kale.  Do you know how much protein is in kale?  A lot for something that resembles grass.  Wait.  How much protein is in grass?  Anyway, kale has definitely become one of my favorite things.

I apologize for leaving the “Dear Dad” post up so long.  I always want to follow it with something witty and upbeat.  And I’m just not feeling it.

Part of it I’m sure is the yearly let down of leaving the cabin in the north woods.  It has not been so bad this year.  I have not bombarded Tom with pleas for us to purchase the old time-y souvenir picture business that has been left vacant for 2 years on main street.

(Side note: this is where we have the closest thing to a wedding photo as I am in a white dress in our civil war recreation photo)

But I still miss it dearly.  (The cabin, not the business.)  The cabin isn’t insulated so it’s not like I can just up and go whenever.  We closed the cabin for the season while we were there.  I struggled hard with the idea that maybe I could squeeze in one more trip in September/October but again…reality.  Bleh.

We also came home to several small snafus.  I guess a huge one still looms.  Our AC started to not cool as well.  Again.  To the third power.  Second verse same as the first.  A little bit louder and a little bit more expensive.  We have used one more stop gap hail mary suggestion that as I type this and stare at the thermometer sitting in the wall register does not appear to have worked.  I’ll hold off on calling the tech again until the situation escalates because the next step is a complete bank-buster.  Almost as much as a new unit.

(The AC just kicked on again and the temp dropped to an acceptable level so maybe all is well?  Fingers crossed?  It’s exhuasting as shit to be paranoid about the AC cycling.)

Since I’ve been back, I got Gma enrolled in the hospice system.  I’m not sure what she will need in terms of medications and care to make this decline not so horrible, but they do.  My mom is going to visit in mid October, so that gives Gma something to look forward to.  This week we are picking up her new hearing aid.  My biggest fear is that she is going to just be confused and frustrated about how to use it.

I went to a girl’s night last Friday that was absolutely wonderful and just what I needed.  But in telling the updates of my life, someone would ask, “Will you still go hiking if Tom gets a new position and you have to move?”  and I’d explain contingency plans A and B. “What about your grandmother?  What happens if you move?  What happens if you hike?”  Contingency plans C & D.

I feel like I’m up to double letter contingency plans but with zero tried and true plans.  I’ve had so much thrown at me to prepare for the worst that I can’t even remember what it is I want to do with the best.

So, for better or worse, I’m just trying to be.  Sorry that means a boring, lame post sometimes.  We did a 3-day hike while at the cabin which was both awesome and horrifying and once I get back to a bit better me I promise I’ll share the details.