Stonehenge

Hey, look!  It's a post with the word "stone" in it that is not going to mention anything whatsoever about my kidneys!  Enjoy it, people!

The last day we were in London, we took a quick road trip to a town called Sherbourne, where G's grandfather served during WWII.  Sherbourne is about 2 hours outside London, and we had a busy day planned, so we left very early in the morning.  And I promptly fell asleep.  I awoke to G smacking my leg and exclaiming, "Hey look!  It's Stonehenge!"  I was like, wha???

I knew it was in England (I'm not that geographically challenged).  But whenever I saw it on TV, it looked like it was so remote.  I just assumed it was located on some sea cliffs somewhere, covered in fog.  But no, it's right next to the highway!

This picture shows how close people are allowed to get to it.  See them on the sidewalk in the background?

For about 10 minutes, we were "those tourists."  We screeched into the parking lot, ran alongside the fence and took pictures.  Then ran back to the car and dashed away!

I waxed all spiritual and philosophic for a moment and told G, this just goes to show you that you never know that the day holds.  What life holds.  We got up today and had no idea that we were going to see STONEHENGE of all things!

Maybe there's a surprise in store for you today as well.  :)

((As a sidenote, I have my first personal training session tonight at 8:00.  I don't know how in the world I will summon the energy necessary for that.  I told G that I'm definitely going to drink a cup of coffee this afternoon.  He was like, "You better make it a whole pot."  Wish me luck.))

Cracking the code

A couple of weeks ago I was in the grocery store and saw such a pretty little plant.  It wasn't expensive and I was alone and overcome.  I bought it and put it in the middle of the dining room table.  G is not happy.  I think its days are numbered, which will make me enjoy it all the more while I still can.

Mwahahahahahahaha!

Also, I think I'm *starting* to crack the code concerning my personal relationship with caffeine.  Or should I say love affair?  We're very on-and-off, caffeine and me.  I survived on it in college; coffee is my favorite, favorite thing.  In fact, if given the choice between a cup of coffee and a meal, 9 times out of 10, I would take the coffee.  It's that important to me.

But for managing stress?  Yeah, it's not so great.  A year and a half ago, I eliminated all caffeine from my diet in order to crawl down from the ceiling and join the other earthlings on the ground. And boy did that work.  None of the infamous headaches from withdrawal...just sweet, sweet calm.  I gradually worked my way up to one cup of coffee in the mornings and that has worked for me until recently.  I find that after my hellish commute home (read: sitting in the car for over an hour), I'm just zonked.  This is not effective for my whole going-to-the-gym-and-trying-to-lose-weight plan.  So lately I've been wondering...what if I have a small cup of coffee in the afternoon?  Would that work to keep my energy up after work, during "my" time?

I tried it yesterday - success!  I think I've found a winner!  For this season, anyway.

In the sweet potato area, not so much with the winning.  More with the total failure.  Turns out that I cannot bake a potato to save my life.  Like, any kind of potato.  I put them in the oven (wrapped in foil, not wrapped in foil, holes poked in them, no holes poked in them) and they come out rock solid.  So hard I can barely stick a knife in them.  I've tried 350, 325, for 30 minutes, for an hour...what's the deal?  I've never successfully baked a potato.

So I boiled some sweet potatoes for snacks this week.  This is what it has come to.  I hope that boiling doesn't suck all the nutrients right out of them, but...it is what it is.

Tips?

A couple of food goals for next week:  fresh kale salad & healthy blueberry muffins...wish me luck.

Three Day Weekends, or: My Reason For Living

You know what's great about the 3-day weekend?  Well, there are lots of things, but to top it off, it's a 4-day workweek!  Woo Hoo!

Hope you enjoyed the weekend & Memorial Day - it's officially summer.  And it's hot hot hot.  It's already a bajillion degrees around here.  I walked outside early this morning and it was stifling.  I just shook my head and went back inside.  Can't take it.  Especially with like 150% humidity.
We headed to Our B&B for the weekend and had a couple of days of Outdoor R&R (long hike, some kayaking, lots of time in the sun).  We went sans bunny this time.  There's a lot of room in the car without all of her animal accoutrements!

We are starting to mentally prepare for Africa.  In the next few weeks we are getting the rest of our electronic gear, weather-appropriate clothes, and...our shots.  Lots of them. 

We debated about which is scarier: getting shot up with all kinds of viruses OR getting prepped to go into a cage and have an up-close encounter with great white sharks.  The verdict?  G: the shots.  Me: the sharks.  But alas, we will experience both and we will *hopefully* survive.

We enjoyed some Sonic this weekend.  Oh, nectar of the gods!  Why, oh why don't we live near one?  (Probably because it's the only thing keeping me on this side of Obese.)

We got back yesterday afternoon and swiped the bunny from her boarding facility.  The fam is back together again.  Let's hear it for a short week!

TGIF, people!

Table Time

You know how babies have Tummy Time?  Well, old lady bunnies have Table Time.  That's when the parents scoop her up and plant her on the table in order to give her medicine.

She doth protest greatly:

 

Then she gives in because it tastes good

Next, we have some fun at her expense

Until she shows us who is boss

And then it just gets undignified.

Our newest family member

I proudly announce...

my new Keurig!

It's like having my own barista in the house!  Except not really because it doesn't make lattes and cappuccinos.  Oh well - isn't that why they created Starbucks?  

You can rest easy because I will now officially stop yammering on about our anniversary.  It was Saturday:

We did not do anything noteworthy.  We were supposed to go hang-gliding, but had to reschedule due to high winds.  They said the winds were great for flying, but not so much for landing.  And, in my book, landing is kind of like important, so...

This time last year we were in Hawaii and don't think we haven't spent a few moments whining around the house about it.  Namely when we received confirmation of our reservations at the Turtle Bay Resort for this weekend:

We were like, uhhhhhhhhhhh.....whaaaaaaa?  G finally broke down and called them to make sure they had not set up some kind of recurring reservation for us in their system.  The only thing worse than NOT going to a Hawaiian resort is being charged for a late cancellation of a reservation you didn't make.  Turns out it was a marketing gimmick.  Turns out that with three college degrees between us and multiple readings, it still seems like a confirmation letter.  

Not that we're bitter or anything.

So, tonight I'm meeting with a personal trainer.  It turns out that my eat-whatever-I-want-but-don't-worry-about-working-out-EVER diet plan is not as effective as I would like.  Wish me luck.

TGIF, people!

Hallelujah and pass the goat cheese

So I'm trying my hand at cooking a tad more (which is to say, at all) these days.  If I am to avoid eating tempting take-out for lunch (at work), and then gaining 95,000 pounds, then I am going to have to take matters, quite literally, into my own hands. 

And I'm going to need some cheese.

If goat cheese were a person, it would be a character on The Vampire Diaries.  I love it that much.  The other day I found a recipe for stuffed chicken here.  Guess what it's stuffed with?  You got it!

I am now celebrating more than just our anniversary this week, friends.  Yumola.  YUM-O-LA.

How to make it:

*Heat oven to 375, grease a casserole dish or whatever.

*Slice chicken breasts horizontally and stuff as follows:
     *Handful of fresh spinach (next time I'm going to stuff even more in because it cooks down)
     *2 TSP (or more!) of fresh goat cheese
     *2 TSP of sundried tomatoes marinated in olive oil/spices

*Mash down hard to try to secure/flatten the chicken breasts.

*Drizzle the top with olive oil and add a dash of the following:
     *sea salt & some pepper
     *oregano
     *thyme

*Bake for 25-30 minutes or until chicken is done.

(The blog suggests topping the chicken with a bit of fresh lemon before serving.  I didn't do this but I think it would add a nice flavor kick.)

Enjoy!

Movie idea:

Speaking of food (and I usually am), if you haven't seen "Julie and Julia," it's so cute.  Watch it immediately.

P.S. Next week I'm going to tackle the sweet potato.  Any tips or ideas?

Spears pointed at both ends

Treachery and violence are spears pointed at both ends -

they wound those who resort to them,

worse than their enemies.

{Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights}

Chicken juice

Dear B,
In about 13 years, you will be married to this guy and on a random Tuesday night you'll be struck with the urge to cook something healthy to take to work for your lunches.  By then you will have the good sense to obey this urge because you will know it hardly ever happens to you.

So you will steam broccoli in chicken broth, and G will come into the kitchen and frown disapprovingly at you and this conversation will ensue:

G:  Is that chicken juice?

B:  Broth.  It's broth.

G:  I can think of few things to do to broccoli to make it even more disgusting than it is.  But cooking it in chicken broth is one of them.  Congratulations.

B:  Wait a minute.  You do realize it's not actually juice, though, right?  Do you know how they make chicken broth.

G:  I have no idea how they make it.  Let's keep it that way.

The other white meat

Glass Half Full

I was trolling around for anniversary cards last night and found this helpful category - check out the lower left-hand corner:

It says:  Troubled Relationship (It's Not Perfect, But It's Ours)

Really?  Why not call it:  "Let's Hear It For Settling!"  Or, "I'm miserable, but so are you!"

TGIF, people!

Undecided?

How do you describe love?

So, our Big 1-1 Anniversary is coming up.  I know I beat it into the ground on this blog, but I think that's because (other than God) G is my constant.  My only constant.  I don't mean that in a codependent, off-my-rocker kind of way.  I mean that as a LOST reference:  when things are spinning out of control and it's about to hit the fan in a serious way, I have G.

I've often thought about how I should write about it on the blog.  My 1.5 readers have intimate relationships with their loves and it's all been said before.  Yet I feel this deep need to articulate my love with G somehow, even if only to myself.  Our love is not comprised of overt demonstrations:  We don't go to large dinners with friends, and then when the dessert arrives, G does not stand up nonchalantly, tap his wine glass, and make an endearing, out-of-the-blue toast to his dear wife whom he loves above all things.  When he proposed to me, it was not showy or public or even romantic.  But it was necessary.  And it was just right.

These observations are not borne out of a comfortable settling as our relationship spans the years.  Even in the beginning, when things were passionate and new and exciting and different - they were not fireworks and bombshells.  This is more of a reflection of our personalities than of the love itself.  We are not the fireworks kind of people.  Which is to say that if G did ever stand up in that hypothetical restaurant and give the hypothetical toast, I would probably recoil in horror, wondering which dish gave him the food poisoning.

That's not to say G is not romantic.  It is to say that it is his charm and his endearing qualities that show themselves in every-day ways that get my attention.  These are not overt, showy, shiny things.  They are more like the silver dollar you stumble onto in the parking lot.  Or like reaching into your pocket for the $5 bill and discovering a $20.  Those more subtle "oooooh!" moments.

I'm re-reading Wuthering Heights for like the 80th time.  I keep telling G to read it because he and Heathcliff would be BFF's, but that's another story.  And anyway, that's not exactly true.  I think G would like H just fine, what with all the brooding on the moors and the general sarcasm and discontent and overall condescension towards people, but I think H would find G a bit too...positive.  G is practically PollyAnna compared to H.

But I digress.

When I read this description of Catherine's love (actually, the difference in love) of her two main men, I thought it was a solid beginning, a taste, of how I would describe my love for G.

So here you go:

"I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be an existence of yours beyond you.  What were the use of my creation if I were entirely contained here?  My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning; my great thought in living is himself.  If all else perished, and he remained, I should still continue to be; and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger.  I should not seem a part of it.  My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods.  Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees.  My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath - a source of little visible delight, but necessary.  I am Heathcliff - he's always, always in my mind - not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself - but as my own being..."

I wish I could write like that!

College

College is on my mind these days.  It's simply that time of year (beloved May) when the stores are stocked with grad-related merchandise and all publications are filled with advice and snarky comments for the wide-eyed twenty-somethings who are staggering into the work force. 

Or, you know, grad school.  I'm just sayin. 

We liberal arts majors gotta do what we gotta do.  I read an article published in Boston College's online student journal this week that lamented (tongue in cheek) how unprepared liberal arts majors are for today's workforce.  At least, it said, they read some good books.  Amen to that! This world needs thinkers, people, and we liberal arts peeps do what we can!

And of course I'm watching my bro get closer and closer to the finish line, with his internship right around the corner, and his final classes prepped for next year.  The days are long but the years are short.  Before you know it, you're in your mid-thirties, absent-mindedly sipping coffee in the car while you inch forward at a glacial pace in traffic...oh wait!  I digress.

I went digging around in the basement tonight and found this picture.  It was taken during the first couple of weeks that we were dating.  Little did we know.  First of all, we totally look like youth pastors.  Secondly, this needs to be placed in some kind of historical archive; it is literal proof that we are getting old.  The evidence?  Um, a telephone in the background with a cord.  Not to mention the various computer wires and a monitor the size of our microwave.  And notice my window sill -  a coke bottle?  Dork!

There's so much to be said about college, but I'll concentrate for a moment on my journey with G that started way back then.  In our senior year, we had the bright idea to buy hamsters and then take turns hiding them in our dorm rooms.  Their names were Trooper (mine) and Samson (G's) - it helped that we both had private rooms.  We bought them after visiting the Tulsa Zoo.  Hmmmm, the beginning of an animal theme for us?

Also, there was the reading.  Always the reading.  Always the talking about our books and managing to fit them in between classes, activities, jobs, friends, and making out hanging out.

And, of course, there was the hiking.  This was our very first camping trip together.  Little did we know it would turn out to be a pre-cursor to Hawaii, Yellowstone, Grand Teton...and a world of other places.

P.S.  I used to look at old pictures of myself and think, "I was so thin back then..."  Now I look at them and think, "Ack!  I was so young!"  Uggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh.

How to make a marriage last

Considering our upcoming anniversary, I've been mulling over a few things that make our marriage work.  Like, really work.  Here's a thought:

Speak to each other via the household pet.  Such as the following - let's just say, purely hypothetical! - examples:

"Orca?  Did you remind Daddy that it's his turn to do the kitchen?  By the looks of it, he must have forgotten - for like a week!"

...and...

"Orca!  Hi, baby!  Were you a good girl while we were at work today?  Yes, you were!  Unlike Mama, who left her crap all over the laundry room floor!  She's gonna cause a major accident and then she'll be sorry, now, won't she?"

...and...

"Wow, look how high the grass is growing, Orca!  It's going to seed!  If Daddy doesn't get out there and mow it, the Home Owner's Association is going to send us a letter!"

...and...

"Hmmm, Orca, just look at that!  A Victoria's Secret magazine AND a Christianity Today magazine arrived at the same time!  And our mailbox didn't get struck by lightning!"

It's all about communicating through a furry intermediary.  THAT'S how to make a marriage last.

Random thoughts on a Monday

**I didn't get out of my pj's yesterday.  Like, at all.  I was super productive in the a.m. and then took a 3-hour nap in the p.m.  Ah, so nice.

**Here's an observation:  I work in a traditional office setting and my workspace gets lots of traffic.  In other words, I have various co-workers coming in and out of my office all day.  Which is an introvert's dream, let me tell you.  Also, I have kept a candy jar stocked for the past 2 years or so.  This is something I fill weekly, with all different types of candy - the good stuff: Snickers, Butterfingers, Kit Kats, Baby Ruths.  Not the crappy stuff:  Hershey's kisses, etc.  I buy this candy with my own money - there's no office fund set up, no co-worker contribution jar.  And I realize this is my own choice; no one is making me do this.  Several times each day people drop by, open the jar, and scoff if they don't like its contents.  Scoff!  Other times, someone will open it (keep in mind - it's right next to my desk) and if they see something they like, they might take two or three pieces.  This is something I only fill once a week (since I am, after all, paying for it out of my own pocket) and so there are times that the jar is almost empty by Tuesday afternoon.  Not once in the past two years has anyone brought candy for the jar or offered to contribute money to it.  But almost every week, someone will say, "You should get ----- next time," or "You know what type of candy you should get?"  It's interesting.  People are...interesting.

**Our anniversary is in a couple of weeks.  Already.  Eleven years.  I don't feel old enough to have been married that long.  In fact, I don't think I've ever done any one thing, consistently, for that long.  Other than school (K-12).  College was only a few years; all of my jobs have only lasted a handful of years each.

**My tattoo still surprises me.  I'll get a glimpse of it and think, WHAT IS THAT?  Oh yeah...

Happy Monday, peeps!

Who run the world?

BUNZ

TGIF, people!

A Honkin "E" for Effort

In an attempt to enhance my photography skillz, I bought a Holga camera shortly before we went to London.  These have been around for a long time and are really popular (I'm right on track with my typical being-several-years-behind-the-times way of life).  Holgas are nicknamed "toy cameras" because they are made of flimsy plastic and look like they have been assembled by toddlers.  The film is shaky at best, and they make it clear that no two sets of film will ever come out the same because of this.

But I thought, what the heck!  G was not impressed, but I enjoyed how the pictures turned out. 

I happen to love the effects.  G scowled at this and goes, "It looks like you're on an acid trip."

Then I was all, "NOW who looks like they're on an acid trip?!"

 

 

 

 

I like to call this one, "Monet goes to London."

Doesn't this encompass the essence of a foggy London day? (Just nod.)

G was like, "You need to hold the camera still.  These are blurry."  I was like, "Au contraire mon frere, these are ART."

I see many more Holga adventures in my future!