Birthdays, what do you do with yours?

First, I have never met as many people who do NOT celebrate their birthday as I have since I moved here. Why is that? Were all my friends so badly scarred by their suburban birthday parties that they can never have another one? And why do they say “It’s no big deal. Just another day.”

I call B.S.

I have *always* felt that if you celebrate ONE day a year, it should be your birthday. Not Christmas or Hanukkah or Halloween or Boss’s Day. It should be the day of your birth! If you can’t/don’t/won’t celebrate the day that marks the fact that you exist, the one day out of the whole year where you can say “Hey! Guess what world? I am here! And I am loving it! And, dammit, give me a present to commemorate the awesomeness of me and my life!” Okay, I don’t actually believe that presents are necessary, but do you get what I’m saying here? Maybe it should be, “And, dammit, I’m going to give you all presents to commemorate how glad I am to be here and that you are sharing in this amazing journey with me!” (That’s much better.)

You are alive. This is the one day to celebrate it and shout it from the rooftops.

If you wanna celebrate mine with me, it’s on Monday. No big plans. Dinner with friends. Maybe picnic style somewhere where we can see the lake? And the whole time I’ll be thinking, “Yay for me! Yay for being alive! YAY YAY YAY!!” with the biggest cheesiest grin on my face knowing that this is my day to celebrate me, my life and the friends that are in it.

 

Pie, cont. (or Arggg, I’m a Pirate!)

OK, so I made the pie and the verdict is in. It was just okay. Here are the problems as I see them.

A. The crust wasn’t flaky enough, it got too soggy. This however, is a solvable problem…not one I’m too concerned about in the first attempt. I mean, first of all…I didn’t even make the crust myself.

B. The “sauce” was too saucy. In other words, it was too thin. I think in pie form this dish would be much better if the caramelized rummy goodness were more like a pecan pie consistency…maybe.

C. The brie didn’t come through well. I blame this mainly on the quality of the brie. I also think making the above changes would help by giving more textural complexity, less melding of flavors, and allowing more successful eating while the pie was still warm. (Mmm, gooey brie)

D. Not sure this is a problem, more of an area that requires further investigation. I’m thinking something should be done differently with the pears themselves, less cooking time? Maybe mix some smaller dice into the sauce and then top with larger pieces? …who knows!

So, anyhow. Below are some more lovely pictures of the pie.

Pears in Pan

Brie in Pie

Pears in Pie

Now, let’s get on with the more exciting part of this whole venture. While making the pie I sliced my finger! YAY! Ok, so you may be thinking either this girl is crazy or she is being totally sarcastic and not in the spirit of the blog…but you would be wrong! HAHA!

BECAUSE…for Christmas I was the proud recipient of a canister of Pirate band-aids. That honor may have had something to do with my tendency to say ARgggg, when I’m annoyed etc and then laugh at myself by following it up with “I’m a Pirate.” Just a guess…

Anyhow, I was very unfortunate in that I had not inflicted any damage upon myself since receiving what will from this point on be referred to as “The Glorious Gift.” So, as you might expect any well adjusted person to do…immediately after slicing into my finger I remembered the band-aids and practically skipped (no joke) over to the living room to retrieve them. And of course, afterwards I took pictures!

 

Baseball

I went to the mid-Atlantic, home of green grass in April and pretty baseball stadiums.

I caught an Orioles game at Camden Yards against the Yankees out of sheer luck that no one else wanted these tickets.

The Yankees were dumbfounded by the quietly talented no-name Orioles. Fellow contributors Adam, Abby, and I spent some time filling in words for what the Yankees are saying in this picture. Things like, “My neighbor’s dog keeps chewing on my fence,” and “I went to Best Buy and they have an incredible deal on flatscreen tv’s!” Because that’s what millionaires do, right? Feel free to add your own.

This is also about baseball, because after 4 days of searching for my baseball glove with no luck, I tore apart my parent’s garage and found it hiding underneath a basketball.

Nowadays, I just sit around smelling the glove and remembering how awesome it was to be on a baseball field at night. No matter how much school sucked come April, I’d get to play baseball and know that it’s almost summer. And lately it feels like summer. I even took my glove out for a catch and three of us sat around talking about our futures like we were thirteen again talking about being major leaguers.

 

Winter Nearly Did Me In

Aaaand I’m back. I battled a lethal flu, the darkness, the cold weather (still), and frozen ground. Yet it was 60 yesterday. Almost like mother nature is saying, “Hey! Don’t give in! Summer is coming- warmth still exists in the outdoors.” The sun is finally warm, bright, and upbeat.

Apologies all around for failing to keep up my writing the last month, but I’m also working on not forcing a post. I felt spring peeking through a couple times in the past few weeks, but yesterday I actually enjoyed the warmth yesterday. Took a walk (WITHOUT A COAT!) and I did not tear up from the cold wind or worry too much about slipping on ice. While I’m not sure that four months of living in a frozen climate is enjoyable, I think for once I’ll truly appreciate Spring.

Even if that does not arrive until May (yeah okay, still bitter about that one). Major League Baseball started its season and that immediately makes me think of my baseball glove, lively vegetation, and my parents yelling at me for throwing a ball against the house (it’s brick- so what’s their problem?). My glove is incredibly special to me- similar to some kids and stuffed animals or blankets, except this is for my early teen years. It has this awesome smell that I may try to describe in the future. To me, the smell screams everything from cold April night games to 101 degree double headers in July. On the topic of baseball, this is the first time in years I’m excited to watch the Baltimore Orioles. It is probably only because it makes me think of Spring- something I don’t have here. Oh and plus I’m going to an Orioles game! Fellow writers Annie and Abby are making the mecca to suburbia for Passover and why not go to a game at Camden Yards before chowing down on matzah?

Meanwhile, we’ll be in the mid-Atlantic climate, home to awesomely warm and rainy Aprils. And I’ll get to ride my bike and see my favorite hill in Baltimore County, Maryland. I think I’ll have much more to write in the coming months.

 

Why I Do Yoga And Why you Should Too.

Hi! I’m Charlotte. Let’s do this.
In the past several months, I have started practicing yoga in earnest. I’ve flirted with it for upwards of six years, but only lately have I considered yoga to be more than over-complicated stretches and a way to wimp out of a more serious exercise class. However, as many sweaty hours have proven, the physical training rivals any strength building regime, with the additional benefit of flexibility (I can sit cross-legged in my office chair for hours now!) Although I have not delved too deeply into the spiritual side, it is impossible not to feel a bit of clarity and calm after a good class.

One very appealing aspect of yoga is that during sessions you are encouraged to practice non-violence against others and against yourself (“Ahimsa”.) This is hard concept to grasp for anyone who has ever played a competitive sport, worked out, or endured the torture of a spin class. Typically, pain = gain, but this is not the case in yoga. It can be very painful if you push yourself, but yoga isn’t about an end result. It’s about enjoying each practice in your way, without watching the other people in the class or even yourself in the mirror. And even though my body doesn’t feel like it was pummeled after every class, I still see consistent improvement.

If you like the cut of yoga’s jib, you should try to work on sun salutations. Full disclosure: I hate them. The poses are repetitive and strenuous. But they are a necessary evil, designed to develop your shoulders, back and legs to prepare for the fun stuff.

Go here for step-by-step instructions:
http://yoga.about.com/

Bonus: Classes are sometimes taught with the lights dimmed, the heat and
music up, and occasionally (depending on the instructor) lavender -
scented eye pillows. ftw!

 

Home

The idea of home is a complicated one for me, even more so after this week’s turn of events. Is home where your bed is? Or maybe it’s the state in which you’re registered to vote? What about your permanent address? Or maybe it’s the place that you long for when you’re sick?

I’ll admit, I’ve been a bit of a wanderer in the ten years since graduating from high school. When businesses ask me for my previous three address I’m bound to screw them up. And right now I’m going through some nonsense with insurance companies, trying to save money while at the same time not committing insurance fraud. I’m really not trying to get sued by a national insurance company while on VISTA salary.

This insurance business is going to end with the driving of Violet (my van) from Vermont to North Dakota and flying back to VT–all in the period of four and half days. The idea of being home for Easter though is what propelled me to write today. This home is my parents’ house. The one I grew up in. The one I go to to celebrate Christmas. The one with the front porch where I love to sit and read during summer months. My parents’ home is where I am most at peace. It nourishes my soul and mind to be there. It reminds me of where I came from and who I am.

I am ridiculously excited to be going home so unexpectedly. I am even more excited that a good friend is going to experience “The Middle” for the first time in his life. I can show him around the frozen prairie and introduce him to the best pie in the entire world (found at Paula’s Cafe in Mayville). He’ll be able to experience my family celebrating Easter as well as a Lutheran Easter church service. We will dine on all things white (lefse, mashed potatoes, bread, cookies, etc) as well as my aunt’s pickles (which are delicious).

This return home coincides with my growing love and appreciation for the MidWest. I’ve found myself yearning to hear the howling wind outside while I’m snuggled up with a book and my mom. I miss the small town community where everyone waves at each other while driving (whether you know them or not). I want to live in that slow paced life that runs NoDak. But mostly I’m excited to go back because I consider my home to be North Dakota, where everything just makes sense.

While looking for images online, I came across this article posted in National Geographic about North Dakota.  And here is how ABC News gave North Dakotans a chance to respond.

So…home. Where your body resides? Or your soul?

 

Permaculture

Hey everyone, my name is Abby. I’m originally from Massachusetts, but consider myself a native Vermonter. Until recently I’ve been a nomad; I’ve lived in or visited forty six states. I like agricultural education, integrity, building community and photography. Like Adam said, none of that really matters…on to what I’m excited about!

In college I used to confound my family with my idealistic perspective on the world. I rooted for the underdog and questioned every system I deemed unjust. Whenever I challenged the current cultural paradigm, they would acknowledge my perspective, but then skeptically say, “show us another way.” Recently I rediscovered an idea that answers that question, and it just so happens to be the one of the things that I am irrationally exuberant about!

I am excited about permaculture. Permaculture is a number of things; a complex concept that defies tidy definitions. Austrialians Bill Mollison and David Holmgren coined the term, and it means a blend of permanent agriculture and permanent culture. It’s a series of principles that focuses on “consciously designed landscapes which mimic the patterns and relationships found in nature…[where] communities, food systems, and living systems are integrated and mutually supporting as opposed to separated, exploitative, and destructive.” (Holmgren, Pathways to Sustainability) Basically, this is a fancy way to say that permaculture is…well, everything! More specifically, permaculture has two main ideas: a design system and a lifestyle ethic.

Permaculture is a design system whose beauty comes from it’s simplicity and focus on “what works.”It’s a way of thinking that acknowledges and encourages interactions between elements of an ecosystem instead of treating each seperately. Because of this, there is no such thing as waste in a permaculture design system, only an unused resource. Within this system work is minimized, productivity increases, and the the health of the environment is maintained or improved.

Permaculture has evolved into a lifestyle ethic which seeks to create a culture that is sustainable and inclusive for all. This aspect of permaculture is most exciting to me. When I first learned about permaculture years ago, I thought it implied a radical change in lifestyle. I wasn’t ready to own land or to be a farmer, so I couldn’t see how I could incorporate it into my plans. Recently I’ve discovered that permaculture doesn’t neccessarily imply land ownership, homesteading or a wealth of knowledge about ecology, it’s about living with intention.

These days my plans don’t include living off the land, but I have been thinking more about the sustainability of my daily choices. This summer I’ll be growing some of my own vegetables and hopefully getting my eggs from a small flock of hens housed in a nearby backyard. I’m looking forward to deepening my knowledge of permaculture and living with more intention….I’ll be sure to share my discoveries!

 

Sprouted

In an earlier post I talked about growing my own food. This is just the beginning.

The first three wandering onions sprouted and now I have a beautiful light in my room. At a time when the ground is still frozen, the trees bare, and the grass covered with a nasty black snow, it is refreshing to have something living in my room. The lack of floor space in my room is immediately worthwhile by way of a full-spectrum grow light. Now it is sunny outside and inside!

Beyond the instant gratification of being near something living, is the thought that I’m finally motivated to grow my own food like I always wished. In the past, I loosely connected myself with the growing process through purchasing CSA shares and going to the farmer’s market. I maintained a great container garden of lettuces (made out of milk cartons and cardboard boxes), but the lettuces and my enthusiasm typically died out by late July. Similarly to how fellow writers Adam and MermanDan explained their desire to put themselves into the experience or to actually live their lives, I’m finally doing that through onion seeds. It makes me happy to be around plants and to be connected with the process. Growing food satisfies my curiosity of how things work. Instead of wondering incessantly about what it is like to grow an onion and catching its seeds, I’ll be doing it!

 

Pie.

I watched Waitress a few weeks ago.  I was sitting at home bored and decided if I was gonna have nothing to do, I might as well watch a movie.  So off to Redbox I went… 

The movie was good, I would definitely recommend it.  However, like many movies the best way to go into it is not expecting too much.  It’s fun, and it passes the time.  Not a masterpiece but definitely a good solid movie.

Anyhow, that’s not what this post is about.  This post is about pie.  Now, if you’ve got any inclination towards baking and you watch this movie you will understand why I suddenly have an urge to make pie…and not just any pie.  I want to make fabulous, one of kind, newly invented pies.  Pies that are magical and delicious.  Pies that have a heart in the middle, as the the main character sings in the movie.

So, here is my first idea for a pie:

I make this baked brie dish…it’s not unique I’m sure, I got the vague idea from an appetizer I shared years ago with a couple of friends.  From there I just did what I usually do, bought the ingredients I thought should go in it and started cooking…with lots of tasting until I had a final product.  Anyhow, it’s basically pears in a sort of caramelized sauce made from brown sugar, butter, and spiced rum.  Then I dump the mixture on top of  some brie…bake it till the brie is bubbly and serve with french bread. 

That dish turned into a pie will be my first attempt.  Now, to be completely honest…I haven’t made a lot of pies in my life.  In fact I would say I’m not usually a big fan of pie in general, but perhaps we can change that!

I’ll let you know how it goes… 

 

The New Adventures of Merman Dan

This blog is supposed to be filled with people talking about their hobbies, their interests, the topics about which they are irrationally exuberant. The thing is, while I do get excited about things from time to time, what I am most excited about is learning how to be irrationally exuberant about life.

I ran across this quote a while back…

We are always getting ready to live but never living. -Ralph Waldo Emerson

Unfortunately that sentiment is reflected all too readily in my life. I spend so much time worrying about getting things wrong or what other people think that I don’t do much of anything. With that in mind, my posts will document my attempt to turn this habit of always preparing for life into a habit of constantly living it…happily, vibrantly, and yes…in a manner you could only call irrationally exuberant. Wish me luck!