Theme of the Month

Yes, I am cutting it close, but the month isn't quite over yet.

No surprise that as Spring approaches, my theme this month is produce. I can't wait until my tomatoes and other veggies start growing. Still don't eat 'em, but sure do love 'em.


You really should click on the picture and bring it up in another window to actually see it clearly. Blog limitations prevent me from making it larger.

A house without books is like a room without windows ~Heinrich Mann

I want to read more books. I've always been a huge reader, but in the last five years or so, television and the Internet has taken more and more of my free time. There is still nothing like a good book though.

I was born into a reading family, at least on my mother's side. I was surrounded by books as a child, primarily Winnie-the-Pooh and old Little Golden Books that belonged to my mother. The Poky Little Puppy. The Shy Little Kitten.



“If the person you are talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient. It may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear.” ~Winnie-the-Pooh


By second grade I had completely fallen in love with The Boxcar Children, which my teacher read to us every day after lunch. I could not get over hearing about these four siblings taking care of themselves after their parents' death by living in an abandoned boxcar. The freedom and independence and adventure -- just thrilling.




The next one-two punch came with The Hardy Boys and The Call of the Wild. On a whim, my great aunt Merle gave me two Hardy Boys books for Christmas when I was 8 or 9. I devoured them. For the next 4 or 5 years, every Christmas, every birthday was Hardy Boys books. I ended up with the entire original series of 50-something books, which (this will surprise no one who knows me) I still have with me today.






It is funny what things stick out in my mind about those books -- I remember everyone in those books called their friends "chums," which was hilarious to me for some reason. I remember the best chum of the Hardy Boys drove a Jalopy, which I thought was some kind of special car. It actually just means a old clunker or something. I also remember the author of the series was a woman, but used Franklin W. Dixon as her pen name because it was believed that boys would not buy adventure books written by a woman. Can you believe 70/80 years later, publishers still think that way (which is why JK Rowling used her initials for Harry Potter)?


The Hardy Boys also brings fond memories of my grandmother as I remember dozens and dozens of trips to the bookstore with her so I could pick out which books I wanted. No matter how many times I wrote down which ones I already had, she was always nervous she'd get me a duplicate, so I just went with her. She always bought me two books -- never three, never one. Always two.

And of course my aunt Merle. I sent her and my uncle Porter a letter many years ago thanking them for those first Hardy Boys books as they really cemented my love for reading. When Porter died several years ago, Merle said that he wanted me to have some of his old books because that letter had really meant a lot to them.

I guess I was 11 or 12 when I first read The Call of the Wild. I thought it was so dark and beautiful. It is the first time I recall being really moved by a book. I had definitely been entertained and excited by books, but emotionally moved -- this was the first time. I had mostly forgotten about The Call of the Wild until the late 1990s when Buffy the Vampire Slayer (yes, that again!) used it so perfectly in an episode. It reminded me of the book's power.


'Night came on, and a full moon rose high over the trees, lighting the land till it lay bathed in ghostly day. And the strain of the primitive remained alive and active. Faithfulness and devotion, things born of fire and roof were his, yet he retained his wildness and wiliness. And from the depths of the forest, a call still sounded.' ~ The Call of the Wild


Seventh grade brought the gothic horror novel Flowers in the Attic by VC Andrews. Holy crap. Of course it is cheesy now to think back on that, but talk about adrenaline just coursing through my body. My parents were actually pretty strict as far as the movies and TV I could see, so this was in a way my first introduction to horror. It was so foreign to anything I had known or seen. An evil grandmother locking her grandchildren in an attic. A mother poisoning her own children so she could claim her father's inheritance and start a new life. Horsewhippings, hangings, hot tar in the hair -- I just couldn't believe what I was reading, and that was so exciting.



Our entire tenth grade class was required to read The Grapes of Wrath. To my knowledge, I am the only person who liked it. Hahahaha. I actually loved it, and went on to read many other works by Steinbeck. Like with The Call of the Wild, I was just very moved by it.




"How can you frighten a man whose hunger is not only in his own cramped stomach but in the wretched bellies of his children? You can't scare him--he has known a fear beyond every other." ~ The Grapes of Wrath

Of course I've read hundreds more books since tenth grade, but these books I've discussed I consider the foundation for my love of reading. This is very self-indulgent post as likely no one cares about this for me, but damn, I've enjoyed it. And what is a blog if not self-indulgent?

Relationship issues

I'm struggling. The primary relationship in my life is falling apart, and I don't know what to do about it.

It's my dog. Lizzie. Things have been rocky between us for a couple of months now. Ever since she decided she wanted to stay in every night (and morning) and never go out. I'm not the most active person myself, but I do like getting out and about sometimes. It gets tiring having to beg and plead and bribe to get Lizzie to go out with me. All she wants to do is sit in front of the TV or stay in (under) the bed.

I decided to give her space. I figured she just needed some time to herself to sort things out and she would eventually want to go out with me again. Nope ... not happening. The situation has only gotten worse.

So this morning we had a big blow-up. I asked her on three separate occasions to go out with me. Not only did she refuse, but she screamed at me to just leave her alone and ran into the bedroom. I am a bit bigger than she is, so I eventually forced her to go out, but she just sulked. She would not participate in any of the activities I had planned.

As of now we are not speaking to each other; we can't even stand to be in the same room. Are we destined to be 2-gether 4-ever? I don't know ...

What the Hell?

I'm standing outside on my own damn porch minding my own damn business when a huge praying mantis-type thing flies directly into my face. Hard.

It feel to the ground, then flew away. I come inside and look in the mirror and see a big red welt on my face where it hit.

That's messed up!

It came!

I got my first organic delivery today -- how exciting.

It was left at my front door in a protected plastic crate, very neatly packaged with an egg crate bottom and lots of shredded newspaper for support. It smelled so fresh and wonderful as soon as I opened it up (mainly because I had a big batch of cilantro in there, as well as some rosemary olive oil bread).

They include as much local stuff as possible and noted it on my order form (the apples, oranges, and onions, among other items). The rest is purchased from organic farms across the US.

They delivered everything I ordered, although they had to make a few substitutions based on freshness. So instead of red navel oranges, I got valencia and instead of a green bell pepper, I got a big ol' red one. That actually worked to my benefit as the red pepper is slightly more expensive than the green pepper.

My milk and eggs were inside a thick foil insulated sack with a frozen bottle of water to keep them cool.

How convenient to not have to fight crowds at the grocery store, and how wonderful to be all organic and support local farmers. I'm really happy about this; I've just got to make that mind/body connection so that I can actually learn to eat this stuff.

Anyway, I took pics of course ...

The countdown begins ...

As you know, I've been completely MIA from Weight Watchers for quite awhile now. I paid my money, but just haven't shown up in weeks. Months probably.

I figure there is no point going when I am quite obviously not adhering to the program at the moment. But anyway ...

I am working to get back on track. I bit the bullet and placed an order with Greenling Organic Delivery (which I mentioned in an earlier blog entry), and will receive my first package of organic-y goodness on Friday. So Saturday begins my new menu.




I would love nothing better than to cook, eat, and enjoy all the beautiful, local produce. I love produce -- meaning, I love to grow it, look at it, handle it, smell it, be around it. I just don't like to eat it, and I would call that a problem. But I am going to try again. I have the willingness and desire. I just wish I could keep that from going out the window as soon as I put something in my mouth. And the gag reflex kicks in. Ugh.

I'm excited though. I love the idea of organic and I triple-love the idea of local. And, as I blogged earlier, I just don't want to buy regular grocery store meat anymore. I'll take some digipics of my haul and post them here so you can all see what it's like.

Please please please wish me luck. I need to be able to do this. To learn to eat more and eat better.