Happy New Year!

It’s resolution time, everybody! The holidays were fun, but now that we are stuffed along with our closets and trash bins, it’s time to declutter, reflect for a moment on the past year, and think of ways to make ourselves better, right?


So, let’s get to it before I become even more annoyingly chipper about fresh starts, new beginnings, blank slates . . .


Year 35 is coming to an end. It has been fun feeling a little older and pretending to be a bit more together. I didn’t read as many Russian novels as I would have liked, but at least I have begun. The family food situation has vastly improved since my husband has taken over a majority of the main meal planning and cooking. And the laundry room is a dream! The floor is actually visible.


What I’m most excited about is the fact that, with help from a supportive home health coach, an addiction to the Biggest Loser, and hours sifting through fitness magazines, I am finally enjoying exercising each week. My running dropped off a lot over the holidays, but I’m still trudging along. The strength training and yoga are still happening. There are many goals yet to reach, but the routine is coming along nicely.


Reflection over.


Now, on to 2011! The blog must change a bit since I will be over 35 on January 19, but in addition to a name change, I hope to consolidate the theme a bit – health and home, two topics I enjoy learning about and writing about. Plus, I have a long way to go in each area, so there’s plenty to explore. Look for shiny, new Oh crap, I’m over 35 in January 2011!


I hope you enjoyed your holiday celebrations and are raring to go for the New Year! I absolutely love hearing about people’s resolutions, so please feel free to share if you are so inclined.


Enjoy the champagne and parties this weekend! Happy New Year, everyone!


Oh . . . I didn’t actually tell you my resolutions, did I? Well, I’m usually a bit superstitious about divulging my own (and they’re usually embarrassingly self serving), but since I haven’t kept one in 35 years, I guess it can’t hurt. In 2011, I resolve to straighten up the house before bed each night, exercise at least 4 times a week, and lose 20 pounds. That last part is ridiculously painful to put out there, but out there it is. Accountability, right?

New Food and Beverage Operations Manager

Effective Monday, December 6, my husband will be taking over all food and beverage operations in the household. The decision came earlier in the week when he, much aggrieved by endless clutter in the cabinets and fridge and in a state of terrible hunger due to the paltry meal of Trader Joe’s frozen Pizza Margherita (with lettuce and an inedible lime dressing on the side), realized that all luncheon meat had passed expiration. Other options in the cabinet included items such as raisins, canned beans, Ziplock bags of old crackers, and four flavors of applesauce. The decision was finalized the next morning when both bananas and Chex Bran, the top two breakfast options of the household, were unavailable.



I have been applauded for my nearly 10 years of food and beverage service. My attempts at pork chops and any type of roast, though always tough and dry, were appreciated. The bland vegetable lasagnas and mushy fried rice not so much. Some of my more successful dishes – creamy tomato soup, arroz con pollo, Trader Joe’s orange chicken, spaghetti bolognaise, and sausage gravy will likely stay on the menu.


The coupon drawer, which is frequently stocked, will most likely be reorganized since none of the coupons have ever actually been used. And we will likely see the third shelf, second cabinet – usually reserved for wasabi peas, flax seed oil, vegetable-flavored crackers, and other items that marketers have forced me to buy in the past and I cannot force myself to choke down – cleared and restocked with staples like dried peppers, canned tomatoes, and peanut butter.


We are looking forward to a more productive and user-friendly kitchen, along with a variety of international cuisines and flavors. Though I will still participate in the preparation of some of the meals, the planning, stocking, and overall operation management will be provided by my husband.


Now that I have been relieved of these duties, we are also looking forward to weeknights that are slightly more peaceful, a laundry room that one can walk through, and a bit of dusting occurring throughout the week.

My Encounter with a Savage Beast

Well, maybe savage beast is a little too strong for a 40-pound mutt with half its fur, but friendly, it was not.

One of my new strategies for staying active as an old person is to schedule in a quick walk or yoga session each day. It’s also a way to break up my endless hours staring at a computer screen. Since I love cooler weather and today was one of the first cool days in Raleigh, I thought I’d stroll.


About half way up the street, a dog jumped out into the sidewalk and began growling, barking, sputtering, sliming, anything he could to keep me from passing by. This nasty fellow often catches me off guard. If he’s out, he leaps from this porch that is covered in fabric draperies (conveniently hiding him) and nearly bites my leg off. I hate this dog.

Today, instead of walking around him into oncoming traffic nearly dying a different type of death, I just turned and went home defeated.

I will likely not take that side of the street anymore. My route will change, but my quest will continue.

Healthy Helpers

On my journey to become a healthier human being 35+, I have come across some websites and tools that are fun and encouraging. Granted, I sign up for all of these things, have a million passwords to forget, and neglect them after a while. But I’m sure others who aren’t nuts like I am will prepare more carefully and select one or two that work well for them. So here is a list of healthy helpers that I’ll pass along to anyone out there interested.

Healthy Loser Gal (http://healthylosergal.blogspot.com/)
This lady is a total Positive Patty. I have never read any snarky comments from her blog, so if you’re into sarcasm, she might not be your thing. She has lost 100 pounds or more eating healthfully and exercising regularly. You can also follow her on Twitter, but watch out on Biggest Loser night; her Twitter feed is a monster!

411 Fit (https://411fit.uncc.edu/411Fit/Client/index.cfm)
You can track nutrition and fitness activities at 411Fit. What I like about this site is that it gives you a daily nutrition and fitness grade. As an INFJ (sorry, my Myers-Briggs nerdiness is creeping out), I love being graded.

SparkPeople (http://www.sparkpeople.com/)
This site is huge. You can track nutrition and exercise, join a million groups, create a blog and homepage, get and share recipes. I love it, but it overwhelms me too, which is why I vacillate between this one and 411fit (and my print journal. I warned you that I am a nutty INFJ. Our brains are messy like this).

RealAge (http://www.realage.com/)
This is a Doctor Roizen site where one can take a test that tells that all the smoking and milkshake chugging has aged him or her a good 10-15 years. A bit shocking. It tends to appeal to the older, “oh crap, I might die” audience more than the “I want to fit into last year’s jeans” crowd. But I like the recipes and I’ve just started exploring the site more. You can friend RealAge on Facebook and people write back to you. More INFJ validation.

Mariel Hemingway’s Website (http://www.marielhemingway.com/)
Mariel Hemingway’s site is quite lovely. I also follow her on Twitter, and though her crazy Blisscuits sound like dog treats rather than people snacks, she also gets kudos for being a Positive Patty and making me want to climb mountains one day.

And favorite of all favorites, the old bearded one himself, Dr Weil (http://www.drweil.com/)
I read Dr. Weil’s blog, watch his podcasts, and follow him on Twitter. Do I eat broccoli and get all my omega 3s (or is it 6s?) in every day (along with traditional green tea ceremonies, antioxidants, yoga, meditation, and brisk 45-minute walks)? No. But I aspire to, and he always seems so peaceful. Not a bad way to live.

There are many more that I frequent and some that I’ve just begun to explore (http://cheaphealthygood.blogspot.com/, http://blogs.yogajournal.com/, Bob Harper’s crazy tweets about eating vegan loafs, etc.) but this is a list of some of my favorites. Comment away if you have more to share!

What's for Supper?

Here’s what typically happens. 4:00 rolls around, and I have no idea what we’re going to have for supper. I find something to make, hop in the car, rush down the grocery aisles, run home, (child is begging to play instead of cook during all this, by the way), frantically chop, mix, cook, try to keep the dishes up in between. By suppertime, I am exhausted and the food is usually not good because I rushed it and probably forgot steps; no one eats it anyway because they all like different foods and I didn’t plan for that. I get grumpy. No one likes a grumpy mom.

I always dream of weekly suppers that are pleasant, low-stress experiences where one can enjoy family, eat tasty food, and refresh at the end of the day. But those expectations coupled with a mind saturated with food TV programs and cookbooks filled with complicated recipes can become quite a stressful mix. We are a family of distinct tastes, and rarely do I find a meal that all of us truly enjoy. That complicates matters even more.

Tonight, however, everything came together. In the past few weeks, I’ve searched for simple recipes that taste good and are reasonably healthy. Oh yes, and that everyone would eat. And anything that I can do ahead of time – dice vegetables during a break at work, whirl a pie dough in the food processor while I’m waiting for a file to download – would help. Trying to put everything together between my last early evening work obligation and by the time supper rolls around is hard. I work from home, so I keep thinking this should be much easier for me than for folks who work away from home.

So my meal quest for the next few months is to put together go-to meals that I can make easily, that don’t taste like garbage, and that all three of us will eat. And I don’t want to run around all hyped out like Rachel Ray for 30 minutes either. She makes me nervous.

Dinner tonight was tomato bisque, toasted bread with goat cheese, and apples with Nutella for dessert. Very simple. And fairly cheap. I’ll post the tomato bisque recipe below (I think it might have originated from Allrecipes.com, but I cannot say for sure. It’s tasty. Seems like a lot of honey, but it’s not unless you use the kind that’s not processed. Then you might want to cut it down some). I found a good hearty loaf of bread from Fresh Market that is worth the money if we eat it all. Goat cheese is good and cheap from Trader Joe’s. And I figure the apples balance out the Nutella in the nutrition department.

I’m on the search for more supper ideas like this. Easier week night dinners will make year 35 freaking fantastic!

Tomato Bisque

2 Tbsp. olive oil

1 small onion, diced

1 clove garlic, minced

3 sprigs thyme

1 (28-oz) can tomatoes

1 ½ cup chicken broth

3 Tbsp. honey

1 ½ tsp. salt

¼ tsp. black pepper

1/3 c heavy cream

2 Tbsp. parsley

In medium pot, heat oil. Add onion and cook over medium heat, about 7 minutes. Add garlic and thyme. Stir until fragrant, about 1 minute. Add tomatoes, broth, honey, salt, and pepper. Bring to a boil, reduce heat, and simmer, stirring frequently, until reduced by a quarter, about 15 minutes. Puree about ½ of the soup (should still be chunky). Return to pot and stir in cream. Heat gently and adjust seasoning. Add parsley.

Run Run Run

It’s been a long time, my friends. I won’t attempt excuses, but I will get you up to speed on how year 35 is going so far. Unfortunately, I haven’t shaken the clichés quite yet.

The latest change in year 35 is a new commitment to running. I am the least likely person to begin a running routine. Running always seemed so torturous, agonizing, just not fun. But one day after reading about a couch-to-5K program (http://www.coolrunning.com/engine/2/2_3/181.shtml) and realizing that since I already own a pair of running shoes, the cost of this program would be nothing (Did I mention that I’m cheap?), I started shuffling down the sidewalk three times a week.

The sickening heat of summer has slowed me down a bit, but I can usually get in around 8-10 miles a week. I’m no Forrest Gump, mind you, but it’s a start. And I can honestly say that I have never stuck with an exercise program this long. There was a brief interlude with Billy Blanks in the late 90s (remember Tae Bo?), but other than that, I haven’t consistently gotten cardio in since my high school days of volleyball practice.

What I still have trouble with, however, is calling myself a runner. I jog fairly slowly and not far at all. So I don’t really know what one would call me. This refusal to identify has served me well throughout my life. I could easily drop hobbies and plans because I refused to associate with a certain category of people. I only practiced knitting for a few months. No knitter am I! Baking? Yes, I do enjoy it. But you can’t really call me a baker. Do I love Victorian literature? Sure! But don’t call that my area of expertise. I only dabble and wouldn’t want to limit myself.

As I think about this problem with identifying, it seems more like an excuse – a way to skirt the responsibility of belonging to a community of people or remaining committed to a discipline. So just for kicks in year 35, as long as I put on a pair of shorts (oh horrors!) and place one foot in front of the other in a semi-rapid movement along the pavement (at least making it around the senior walkers and small dogs out there), I’ll call myself a runner. Well, maybe jogger.

Discipline with the blogging? I’ll work on it.

Lent Is On

I always, always get psyched about Lent – Ash Wednesday, Maundy Thursday (what other time of the year do these mid-week days get such attention), the beauty of those solemn services and hymns, the whole concept of sacrifice and love. It truly is my favorite season. And though I’m not Catholic, I have always observed Lent in my own, not very accurate way.

It began when I was a young kid, fourth or fifth grade. I went through a two-week confirmation class at the Methodist church. The culmination of my short catechism was joining the church during Lent – shiny new bible, white dress, powder-pink bead necklace, corsage. It was magical. It was also my first foray into giving up something for Lent.

The ritual of Lent observations intrigued me. I had always been ritualistic (or perhaps more obsessive than ritualistic) about prayers, freaking out about God’s possible vengeance if I left a loved-one off the list at night. If my kindly old pastor had been aware of my twisted, ten-year-old theology, he would have certainly set me straight in the gentlest way possible, but I never mentioned it.
I chose something sweet, which became my yearly ritual that eventually turned into a fasting from all dessert-type items.

But this year, in the spirit of following through, I am going to try a different approach – a season of gratitude. This practice (http://www.christianitytoday.com/workplace/articles/issue17-gratitude.html) was passed down to the congregation I’m part of today – a Mennonite congregation – so I won’t be alone. That’s reassuring. When I do these things alone I typically either don’t follow through or become a bit obsessive and bitter. By the end of a typical Lenten season, I am usually pretty envious of people who are enjoying a Hershey bar, but I get a strange, haughty satisfaction out of completing the fast. Not at all helpful when trying to get close to God by sacrificing.

Another appealing part of this practice is that there is some discipline involved. Since I’m trying to be more disciplined these days, a daily practice is right on.

And there is legitimate fasting involved. One day a week, there’s a fast from food. I have fasted in the past, but my attitude was pretty shoddy. I would get to the end of the day all bitter, tired, and pouty. I suffered and missed the whole point of it. With my new 35-year-old attitude, I’m thinking it could be much better. So I will try to remain prayerful, avoid the scour, read some Bible and Gandhi, and make life pleasant for my family during the fasting day.

There is also prayer for the poor and a gratitude journal, activities leading to something – gratitude – rather than away from something – that Ritter Sport bar with hazelnuts.


So the Lent journey has begun. Happy fasting folks!

The Big Birthday Has Come and Gone

The big birthday has come and gone, and I'm still here, though the weeks of self pity and dread wreaked havoc on my immune system. This cold is no fun. But nobody likes a whiner, so I'll spare you.

There have been several new developments since my birthday has arrived.

First, not many things that you dread in life are as bad as you think. Labor and delivery is an exception to that. That experience is much worse. But really, I didn't feel nearly as bad as I thought I would about my birthday. My new driver's license photo makes me look old and tired, and even that was more humorous than depressing.

Another revelation for me is a few minutes of quiet time a day are really necessary for sanity in old age. When I plunged into the Dr. Weil book last week, I skipped over the section on taking a five-minute breathing awareness break each day. It just sounded a bit corny to me. As much as I would like to think I could be all mystical and dreamy, I'm a realist at heart. One of my good friends and I laugh about our childhood imaginary friends. Hers was all glitter and fantasy. Mine was a working-class lady named Martha who had four kids, a factory job, and a candy cigarette habit.

But I revisited the paragraph on breathing and once I sat down, set my cell phone timer for five minutes, and started "being aware of my breath" (do I have to use that phrase?), it really was cathartic. I felt calm. Freakouts seemed a little ridiculous. So breathing is in.

Finally, birthday cake is probably not a wise breakfast choice anymore, so this year I abstained.

Letting Go of the Plastic Taco

The other day, I realized that I had been walking around with a plastic taco under my arm for well over 10 minutes. Way too long. My daughter often gives me random items to hold on to for no apparent reason -- she doesn't have her hands full; she doesn't ask for them back. This item is particularly disturbing and lifelike. So why don’t I just put these things away, do something with them, or refuse to hold them in the first place?

I’m not aware of what I’m doing. The taco is just something extra to hold on to that is getting in the way. It made folding laundry even more unpleasant than usual as I unknowingly struggled to grab items out of the dryer while clamping down on the taco under my arm to ensure it wouldn’t fall.

I'm making too much of this, I'm sure, but now "holding the plastic taco" has become a metaphor in my life for all those unnecessary things I'm holding onto for no reason.

There are old grad papers that I think I’ll one day turn into brilliant works of literary criticism. I won’t. There is a big tub of crochet patterns and random bits of yarn. Spicy mustard and soy sauce packets. The dream that there really is a Cicely, Alaska complete with Holling, Maurice, Maggie, and Ed. There are more important and disturbing things too – fear, bad habits, the need to please, a nervous laugh, superstitions.

So as I sit here (distracted, unfortunately, because the greatest war movie of all time is on in the background – The Bridge on the River Kwai), I keep thinking that it’s time to either make use of the plastic taco or put it away for good. We’ll be moving to another house soon, giving us the perfect opportunity to discard the tangible junk. Now what to do with all those habits and hang-ups.

On the bookshelf this week – The Brothers Karamazov (I’m starting the venture into Russian novels here) and 8 Weeks to Optimum Health (I know. I know.).

At least I have begun . . .

As I stand in the kitchen making a big pot of Dr. Oz soup trying to gear back up for a new week of diet trends, it hits me. I'm 35. Well, not quite, but I will be 35 in about a week. And I'm not terribly excited about it.

This is odd for me. I can be quite obnoxious about reminding folks that it's my birthday each year. I love the well wishes, the cake, the celebration. It's the only time my shy, introverted self revels in any kind of grand-scale attention. Yet this year, I haven't even bugged my husband about what he will get me. Though he may not be so excited about his wife getting old and haggard, he's probably relieved that the pressure is off for the birthday week this year.

As I stir cabbage into this soup (that smells nice but will probably keep me full for, oh, about 25 minutes at lunch tomorrow), I realize that it's probably time to become a little more disciplined in my approach to daily life. A little exercise each day, skipping desserts, starting my daughter's baby book, straightening up the house before bed, writing each day, finally getting around to reading Tolstoy and Dostoevsky, remembering other people's birthdays -- this is the stuff of adult life. No longer can I hide behind the "I'm just barely out of graduate school" mindset.

So, this blog is all about how I have just realized that oh crap, I'm 35. I guess that means it's time to follow through.

Dr. Oz soup cooked and stored away for tomorrow? Check. Baby tucked in and snoozing away? Check. House straightened? Almost check. Yoga? After I spell check. Blog started? Check. 6:04:00 PM by Joni Delete