Winter Haiku: a writing contest February 10, 2010

I’m on a mission to continue enjoying winter until spring comes.

Tuesday morning as I stood at the gas station, filling up my car while the snow fell, I composed a haiku in my head.  Of course, by the time I got to a place where I could write it down, I’d forgotten it.  But I came up with another one.  Two, in fact.

Snowflakes tumbling down

Resting on her eyelashes

A frozen beauty

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Hushed yellow buses

Covered in thick white blankets

There’s no school today

Okay, all you writers out there!  Sharpen your haiku skills (remember, the syllables are 5/7/5) and share some haiku.  I’ll come up with prizes for the ones I like the best.  (It will be interesting to see what I come up with because with all this snow, I probably won’t get out to the store, so I’ll have to scrounge around the house.)

Requirements:  It must fit haiku pattern and it must be about winter.  Extra points for happy winter themes (I don’t need depressing poetry this time of year!) and super-extra points for lovely imagery.  This is great for you homeschooling moms to assign to your kids!  Limit three haikus per person, please.

Deadline:  Please enter by midnight on Friday night, February 12.  I will try to get winners chosen and announced on Monday the 15th.

Neckwarmer Winner February 9, 2010

Thanks so much to everyone who entered my first giveaway.  It honestly was a pleasure reading all your comments about what you like about winter.  I’ll except Heather there, because she couldn’t seem to help gloating that south Florida doesn’t get much of a winter, but I will take this opportunity to remind her that her Impatiens actually FROZE this year and her husband had to wear four layers of clothing to walk the dogs in “frigid” 30-degree weather.  And I will scoff at her as well.

But it’s a loving scoff, because she is one of my best friends.  And I some winter I still want to be able to take advantage of the fact that she lives in Florida so that I can get away from snow and ice.

Anyway, it was truly encouraging to read what each of you had to say about winter.  I really think that reading and re-reading those comments may help me hang on until the flowers start coming up.  Thank you.

But you don’t care about all that.  You want to know who won.  So, I will tell you.

The randomly chosen winner is #18, Liisa!

If you didn’t win, I feel your pain.  I never win anything either.

But I’m going to try to have giveaways more often (more often than never, that is), so maybe you’ll get another chance.

Liisa, send me an email letting me know the best address to use to mail you your prize.  And happy winter, everyone!

Monday Meal: Project “We Have Nothing to Eat” February 8, 2010

This time of year is exhausting for Chef and me.  He’s just gotten through the busyness that is the Christmas season, and entered the busyness that is competition season.  He was out of town over last weekend, judging a collegiate ice carving competition in Michigan, and he knew he had a crazy couple weeks ahead of carving like a madman to prepare for his three-week trip to Alaska coming up later this month.

For my part, I pick up the slack around the house as much as I can while he’s away and busy.  Plus I started a very part-time freelance writing job, so that has taken up some extra time.

And besides that, it’s just exhausting missing my husband so much.

As a result, neither of us had thought much about what we were going to prepare for Monday dinner.  I got home first that day and started rummaging through cabinets.  Onions!  We had onions.  Not a ton, but probably enough.  We also had squash, left from months ago when Chef catered a fall dinner and dance at our church.  (Thank goodness squashes last forever without going bad.)  We had bags of pinto beans, but those weren’t going to work because I hadn’t soaked them, plus I have no idea what to make with pinto beans anyway.

When Chef came home, I suggested that we make French Onion Soup and bake the squashes.  Plus, I had a Greek salad left over from a catered lunch at work.  We hoped it would be enough.

I sliced the onions while Chef started making the bread and getting everything else ready for the soup.  Problem was we didn’t have any beef broth or beef base — only chicken base, and I wasn’t sure how that would taste in a French Onion Soup.  Chef assured me no one would know the difference, and since he found some cooked beef in the fridge, leftover from fajitas he’d made just a few days before, he was able to supplement with chicken broth with some beef flavor.  We didn’t have much cheese, but our guests made do.  And there was a lot of squash, and lots of delicious bread.

Even though we thought we had no food in the house, we managed to feed all our guests and even send food home with all of them.

It’s amazing what you can make with a little bit of nothing.

The Open Road February 5, 2010

Wednesday morning, I got to sleep in until 6:30.  Ridiculous, I know, but usually I get up at 5:00 so I can be at my doctor’s office job at 6:30, so while I would have preferred to sleep until a luxurious 7:30 or 8:00, 6:30 was still a nice change.

Wednesdays are my days to work for Chef at his studio.

The weather has warmed up, and the snow and ice that had made running on the road so scary have all melted.  The windchills aren’t below zero now, so I decided to get out of my YMCA habit and actually go for a run outside.

It’s about two and a half miles from our house to Chef’s shop.  A nice little run.

I put on my gear, including my orange reflective vest, and headed out.

It was an adjustment.  First, I didn’t have the very steady motor on the treadmill to guide my pace, which resulted in me starting off pretty fast.  I slowed it down a little, but I think I ended up running faster on the road than I usually do on the ‘mill.

Second, I had to watch out for cars.  I left about the time that the school buses were driving down my street.  And teenagers driving themselves to school don’t always look carefully when pulling out of their driveways.  For that matter, neither do adults driving themselves to work.

Also, I couldn’t watch Gilmore Girls.

It was a chilly morning, probably about 25 degrees.  My fingers were cold and the air bit my nose and cheeks.  But by six minutes in, I was getting the hang of being outside, and by about ten minutes, I was warm enough to unzip my fleece jacket a little bit.  I was starting to tire (a result of running faster than usual), but at about fifteen minutes, the rooster in the coop at the corner where I turn called out an encouraging “You can doodle-doodle-do it!”  So I kept running.

Turning north meant a sharp wind that wasn’t at all pleasant, and my zipper went back up.  But turning north also meant I had half a mile to go, so I kept plugging away.

I made it to the shop in 27 minutes.  Pretty good for my first time out in forever.

And then I realized I’d have to run back home.

Gym Junkie February 4, 2010

In the middle of February, Chef is going to Michigan, then Wyoming, then Alaska.  He’ll be gone for quite a while, so he has a lot of work to do so that all his ice sculptures are ready for that time.  He has people to deliver, but not to carve.  Chef has something like forty-four sculptures to carve in about three weeks.

So he called in some help.  Jon is a recent culinary school graduate who also carves ice.  He just joined the Marines, but he’s got some time before he ships out in July.  He agreed to come down from Michigan for a few days to help Chef carve.  He arrived Monday evening and spent all day with Chef on Tuesday and Wednesday, carving.

Tuesday, I got off work at 5:00 and wondered what the plan was for dinner for these two guys who would undoubtedly be hungry after a day of physical work.  I called Chef, and he didn’t have any ideas.  “Well,” I said, “I’ll go to the Y for a quick workout, run home to get the grocery money, and then go back to the store for a rotisserie chicken.  I’ll make some potatoes and vegetables to go with it.”

“Sounds good,” he said.  “We’ll be home around 6:00, I think.”

Wait.  I finished work at 5:00, and if they were coming back at 6:00, that left me only an hour to work out, run the errands, and prepare dinner.  That was not going to work.

I would have to skip my workout.

Nnnnnnnooooooooooooo!

Saturday morning, I ran and took my Pilates class.  Sunday I took the dogs for a walk.  Monday was a beautifully sunny day that would have been perfect for a run if I hadn’t had to get home and help with the Monday Meal.  Tuesday I was really looking forward to a good run.

But it was not to be.  Sometimes you gotta take care of your man.

Much to the dismay of my protesting legs who were crying and whining for activity, I skipped the gym.  I went to the grocery and then went home, stuck the chicken in the oven to keep warm, made some garlic rosemary mashed potatoes and cooked up some frozen asparagus.

And then I waited.

The guys didn’t get home at 6:00.  Or 6:30.  They didn’t walk in the door until about 7:00.

My legs were pouting.  “We could have gone for a run!”

Big babies.

“We will go tomorrow,” I said.  “Quit yer bellyaching.”

But I realized: I’m addicted.

There are worse things to be addicted to, for sure, so I’m okay being addicted to exercise.

Ferocious February 3, 2010

You’ve met my dogs.  In general, I think they’re nice company, but not very useful.  They don’t take out the garbage (unless you count taking it out of the trash can to eat it) or mow the grass (unless you count running around in the yard so much that all the grass in that area is now dead) or clean the house (unless you count eating any dropped food crumbs or Legos or small pieces of wood that might be on the floor).  Heck, they don’t even use the bathroom (unless you count drinking out of the toilet).

I mean, look at those guys.  Just lazing in the sunshine.

But last weekend, Chef was out of town, and these dogs knew it.  I don’t know if they understand what a suitcase means or what, but they were fully aware that he was gone and that they’d better step up their game.

“Who me?”

Yes, you, Gryffon.

Friday evening, I was just eating frozen Dollar General chimichangas and Doritos while watching TV.  But the dogs were extra alert.  At every little noise, they jumped up, ran to the front window, and barked.

Maybe they were just eager for Chef to get home, and they were hoping that every squeak and thump they heard was an indication that he had arrived.

But I kind of think they were on a mission to protect me.

Not that there’s a lot of crime in out little town… aside from having our motorcycle stolen, and the time some vandals smashed a bench we had in our front yard.  But we’ve lived in the same house for well over eight years, so that’s not so bad.

I’ve never felt afraid in our house or in our neighborhood.

But Gryffon and Gracie were on high alert, and they were going to be sure to keep me safe from anything that might be out there.

And even though I don’t really think there’s anything scary out there, it’s nice to have that extra bit of protection.  If it came down to it, would they truly protect me?  Or would they just waggle their tails and lick the intruder?

Maybe I’m dreaming, but I like to think they would protect me.

Even innocent little Gracie.

Giveaway: Neck Warmer February 2, 2010

All the cool bloggers do it.  They have giveaways.  I don’t know why, but I admit it does make reading blogs more fun.  I enter for lots of giveaways, and I never win.

I’m tempted to enter my own giveaway just so I have a better chance of winning.  But I won’t.  This is all for you guys!

It’s still winter, and it’s still cold out there, so I’m giving away this hand-knitted neck warmer.  It’s made of 100% alpaca and knitted in a seed stitch.

It’s a little bit blue, a little bit green, and very soft and warm.  And it’s short, so it’s not going to hang down and get in your way like a traditional scarf.

Let me tell you, I had a heck of a time getting a good photo of myself wearing it.

It’s hand wash / dry flat, and yes, I made it myself!

To enter, just leave a comment telling me the thing you like most about winter.  You have until midnight, February 8 to enter.  I’ll announce the randomly selected winner on Tuesday, February 9.

Monday Meal: Wings & Nachos February 1, 2010

On Monday, we were still celebrating the Indianapolis Colts’ victory over the New York Jets, and the Colts’ upcoming trip to the Superbowl.  So we thought it would be a great idea to have Superbowl food for our meal.

Chef was in charge of the wings, and I was in charge of the nachos.

He used several different sauces:  a spicy sauce,

a sweet honey mango sauce,

and good old barbecue sauce.

He fried the wings in oil, and then smothered them in sauce.

Meanwhile, I cut up the celery.

I also made a Creamy Southwest dip, good with raw veggies or with chips.  It’s very easy:  use one package of cream cheese (softened), one 8 ounce container of sour cream, and one package of taco seasoning.  Beat together with an electric mixer.  That’s it!  Our friend Gina called it “The Best Dip in the World.”

For the nachos, I spread tortilla chips on a cookie sheet, then topped it with cheese sauce (from a mix Chef picked up at GFS — Gordon Food Service); browned ground venison which was seasoned with taco seasoning, chili powder, and salt; some minced red onion; and diced tomatoes.  Later, I ran out of the onion and tomatoes and just used salsa instead.  That was just as good if not better.  Then I put the pan in the oven on about 450 for 10 or 15 minutes.

We also offered the salsa on its own, for eating with extra tortilla chips.

It was a good evening.  And on February 7 when the Colts play the Saints in Miami, it’s just possible we’ll have this same meal all over again.

Go Colts!

As He Sleeps January 29, 2010

My darling husband is a great conversationalist.  He’s especially funny when he’s asleep.

This morning as he snoozed, I kissed him before I left for work.  “I love you,” I said.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“To work,” I replied.

“Okay…. Specifically?”

“Specifically?” I questioned.

“Yeah.”

“The doctors’ office,” I said.  Aside from the one day a week when I work at Chef’s shop, the doctors’ office is the only place I work.

By then he had woken up a little bit.  “Oh,”  he laughed.  “Of course.”

When we were engaged, I was visiting Chef at his apartment in Michigan.  He had been going to classes and working like mad, and he was falling asleep.  I don’t remember what I had said to him, but he replied, “My wife won’t be crazy.  She’ll have appropriate chunkage.”

Just a few years ago, Chef and I were lying in bed and he reached over to hold my hand, but in his sleepy state, he couldn’t find it.  “Where are your hands?” he asked.

I laughed.  “They’re at the ends of my arms, where they always are,” I joked.

“Be careful,” he admonished me.  “They will turn into coins in twenty-one days.”

He was cracking me up.  “My hands are going to turn into coins in twenty-one days?”

“Yes,” he assured me.

“Why are my hands going to turn into coins in twenty-one days?” I asked.

He replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, “Because of the power of milk.”

Who knew milk was so powerful?

And who knew sleep could be such an adventure?

Running on the Dreadmill January 28, 2010

I’ve always hated running on a treadmill.  When I’m on a treadmill, I miss the variety that inevitably comes with running outdoors.  Even if I run the same outdoor route over and over, there’s bound to be something new — a house getting a new roof, flowers popping up in a garden, a yard sale, a new trampoline in a backyard… even roadkill adds some smelly diversity to the experience.

On a treadmill, however, I’ve always felt stuck.  Being crammed into a gym among lots of other smelly people and flashing television screens and a radio blaring and the cheering of a group exercise instructor is not my idea of a good time.  But when it’s 34 degrees and the wind cuts to the bone, or when a foot and a half of snow covers the ground, or when the sidewalks are coated with a sheet of ice, or when I get off work at 5:00 and it’s dark by 5:30, I find myself forced to the gym to use the treadmill.

But lately, it hasn’t been so bad.

First, the new YMCA is lots closer to my house than the one I had previously used.  It shouldn’t make a big difference, but it does.  I like knowing that if I forget to take my clothes to work, I can still pop home and get them and not feel like it’s a big deal to go back to the gym.  And I like knowing that once I’m done with my workout, it’s a mere five-minute drive to my house where I can use my own shower and my own towels in my own bathroom.

Also, this new Y is set up differently so that the music and the instructor’s voice from the group exercise room don’t overwhelm the main area where all the treadmills and elliptical machines are.  In addition, they don’t have a radio playing over the speakers in the main area.  So while I wouldn’t call it quiet, it’s much nicer than the other YMCA that I had been visiting.  On top of that, they have earphones available for plugging into the treadmills and elliptical machines so that you can listen to the attached television without having to have your own headphones.  That might gross some of you out — using the same sweaty headphones that someone else has used — but I use the disinfectant spray on them before and after I use them.  And I am just happy to have headphones.  I had a pair once, but the plug wasn’t compatible with the machine, so they didn’t do me any good.  Now I can actually listen to the television station that I’m watching.  I used to just look for a weather channel because I couldn’t figure out a way to turn the TV off, but it was annoying to watch something when I couldn’t hear what they were saying.  At least with the weather, I didn’t really need to hear what they were saying.

But now, with this new YMCA and the positive changes, I’m getting used to the treadmill, and I don’t dread it quite so much.  I can still add some variety to my workout — do some hills or speedwork — to avoid getting bored.

And being able to watch Gilmore Girls at the same time is definitely a bonus.

Image credit: yorktownindiana.org