The Year We Ruined Christmas

50s FAIL

Well, it turns out no one wants to eat the food gems of the 50s. Although the atomic age made miraculous use of preserved, processed food, I guess we've moved on. Hubby didn't  appreciate the delightful meal I made for him.

 
I guess I'll move on. Our giant blizzard has left me with lots of time on my hands. I'm in the middle of crafting a homemade Valentine keepsake, and that alone is frustrating me. Mod Podge, wooden heart boxes, and glitter are only cute when wielded by toddlers, I'm learning.

50s initiative update #2

Well, the food part of my challenge was a reeking failure. As I scoured my treasured, first-edition Betty Crocker cookbook, I realized that we simply can't eat the way the did in the 50s. A drink, appetizer, salad, entree, 2 vegetable sides, bread, and dessert/hot toddy? No way! Not only do I not care to cook all that for one meal, I don't care to eat all that. Hubby did remind me that portions were smaller in the 50s, so it probably wasn't as gut-busting as it seems.

Still... I modified our menu to have an appetizer, entree,vegetable, and dessert.  Following my self-imposed rules, I found recipes from that same Betty Crocker cookbook.  We had: Cheese Cubes with Olive on Pretzel Rods, Puffy Frankfurters (hotdogs stuffed with mashed potatoes and baked), baked sweet potatoes (probably a tab bit too healthful to be authentic, but tasty nonetheless), frozen veggies (hey, from all my research, I've learned that convenience foods were the bees' knees in the atomic age), and brownies.

Hubby hated the majority of the meal. I don't think he even touched the delightful pretzel rod appetizer, which was so reminiscent of atoms, ions, and the burgeoning space race graphic trend.  He refused to eat the frozen veggies, and nibbled on the Puffy Frankfurters. Oh, and he devoured the sweet potatoes, but in fairness, that was probably because they were the most natural thing on his plate, not because they were well-cooked. Even I could tell they were overly salty.

Yikes. This challenge isn't going so well!

   

50s Initiative Update #1

So excited was I over the prospect of a new project, I jumped right into becoming the perfect 50s homemaker. (Please. No housewives here. Homemakers, or even Home Engineers. Never mind the fact that I work full time.)

I read, researched, and laughed at the wonderful hints I found. Here are the two tips I embraced from my reading immediately.

1. Clear away all clutter.  Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives, gathering up school books, toys, paper, etc. Then run a dust cloth over the tables. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too.  (This one is from http://vintymag.wordpress.com/2007/05/07/1950s-homemaking-tips-a-crash-course/.)

2.  Speak only in a low, soothing voice. Your husband has worked hard all day and will appreciate a calm atmosphere.  Can't remember where I read this gem. 

The result?  Well, first of all, who doesn't appreciate a cleaner, less cluttered home? Hubby and I both reaped the fruits of this last clean sweep, though he did think it very odd that I was overcome with a frenzy of activity just as he walked in the door. I guess my timing isn't quite right yet.

Tip #2 wasn't quite as well-received. While I felt my voice was low, soothing, and pleasant, husband found it "creepy."  I told him he didn't need to hear the shrill, strident tones of my female voice, but he replied that he preferred it to my new, Stepford tones.  I don't take that as total rejection though--it just means that my soothing nature needs to grow on him. 

Where Have I Been?

That's easy--saving the world!  But seriously, folks, I am part of a 6-month challenge to reduce my carbon footprint called Climate Pilots.  Although I've added only a blog entry or two there, I've  been working hard to eat foods lower on the food chain.  Especially after my Swedish "climate coaches" told me I should.  It's not easy being green!  You can read the blog here--but please note that I'm not the only contributor, and I teach the children of two of the other Climate Pilot families. Keep it professional and gentle, please!

Happy Face

I'm feeling pretty proud of myself right now.  I've spent a few spare moments over the last few days searching for bargains and freebies. Me, the girl who cannot follow budget to save her life.

Free diet Dr. Pepper

Free Louisiana jambalaya meal from Let's Dish for later consumption (feeds 2-3)

Free relaxing treatment package from Aveda (free tea, aromatherapy, hand-ritual, neck and shoulder massage, makeup touchup)

30% off Old Navy, Gap, and Banana Republic plus 5% of the cost donated to a charity of my choice

Free tickets for a screening of Duplicity (ok, you know I don't like movies, but I thought I'd try)

Free Kashi frozen entree

Killian's Brewmaster Tasting Kit (4 glasses, bottle opener, tasting guide). Not for me, but a gift for a beer-lover I know!

Free Campbell's tomato seeds

Free one-year subscription to Martha Stewart Living (this offer came to me via email, and I really am getting the magazines!)

Live Local, Buy Local

I'm certainly original in my desire to purchase more goods from local, independent sources. But I like to think I've been pretty creative these last few years in getting that done. Well, maybe not creative. But a little unique. Right? Well, it's a start at least.

• Farm deliveries. Farmers' markets weren't enough for me. I've been a member of a CSA farm that has delivered a weekly bounty of produce for 8 years.
• Craft fairs. Buying and selling!
• Honey. That's right. I've adopted a hive, and thrice-yearly I'll get a cut of the honey, plus a few nice beeswax tapers to light up the night.
• My most recent coup--the milkman. That's right, the milkman's back! Ronnie brings us a dairyland bounty--milk, yogurt, drinkable yogurt, cream cheese, hard cheese, butter, whatever your heart desires. 

Maybe some day I'll come back an d link to these wonderful local gems, but they way this blog is going, it might be a while. Until then, I'll tantalize you with a picture of our most recent delivery.

 

 

Self-Indulgent Drivel

I am haunted by insomnia. It seems that no matter how early or late I go to bed, I wake up between 2 and 4 a.m. However, after the waking episode (which lasts a couple of hours), I am totally ready to go back to sleep until late morning. Of course,  I can't act on this preference.

I need to wake up early. And I need to be "on" from the moment I arrive at work at 7 a.m.  But I also need to be as "on" at 4:30 when I've got a meeting.  Often I'm working until 5:30 p.m. 

Did I mention I get a 20-minute lunch? My day seems never-ending. Why do I sleep so poorly? Why do I feel so drained?

I couldn't tell you. I certainly work hard enough. My "breaks" are actually filled with planning and calling and meeting. No downtime for me!  

But still I can't sleep. I'm certainly awake long enough. I don't sleep the day away, as much as I entertain those fantasies.

Despite my insomnia, the problem is, I can't really classify myself as either a night owl or early bird. I mean, I prefer to wake up early, be productive, and go to sleep early. However, often, that day of early-awakening and productivity is followed by a night of restless sleepiness during which I'm very productive, the follows a morning of fogginess. That afternoon lethargy will result in a new mid-evening burst of energy (which allows me to write this blog), which spins into a late bedtime.

On top of that, when I am able to go to sleep, I am still haunted by dreams and can't go back to sleep. Why? Disturbing work/political/home dreams. Believe me, I'd really prefer not to think of work once I leave the building. 

It doesn't take a therapist to see that I'm stressed. But as soon as I write that, I feel bad. And I crash down to earth. I mean really, what are my problems? Money is tight enough, but it's there. Thankfully, hubby and I've both got steady jobs; little dog still eats organic chicken breast as a treat (though she prefers Science Diet Small Bites as daily food), and we've got a well-maintained car that takes us from point A to B. Oh, and my good things list goes on. We've got a a home to shelter us. If I'm going to be superficial, we've got the kitchen that we really wanted but could barely afford. I use it and appreciate it daily. I've finally got great health insurance, and my new doctors at least pretend to care about my concerns. It makes it hard for me to complain about the fact that I don't have as much discretionary cash as I used to have to eat out, to buy crap, to buy fancy cheese, etc.   

You know what? Life is still good here. I hope you're all feeling the same way. 

Run, Don't Walk...

...to your local grocer. It's honeycrisp apple time! My word! These things are good. I don't heap praises upon apples lightly, mind you. I'm from the land of the classic, the McIntosh. That's the one apple that stood above the crowd when I was growing up. Even my little classroom social studies units reflected the Michiganders' deference to the almighty McIntosh.
    However, nowadays, I'm a definite honeycrisp convert.
    When I was a child,  honeycrisps didn't exist.Apples were apples, and you ate whatever came off of the tree. Red, yellow, green--all were good. Apples often littered the side of the road. They were to be taken for granted.
    In my world, apples really DID grow on local trees.It seemed like every neighbor had an apple tree. One of my strongest memories of late autumn in Michigan is of the smell of thousands of rotting apples--the smell of apples turning into vinegar and then into cider is very distinctive.
        I don't think I can ever get enough of the wild fermentation smell. As  far as the apples go, I still love those tart little beauties from the land of the North. However, I'm having a bit of an affair with the lady honeycrisp. Let me tell you, she is the total package. Sweet/tart/crisp/pliant. What more could one ask for? I sure don't know. What I do know is that honeycrisps are available for a limited time every fall, and I don't want you to miss your window of opportunity.

Really???

In the light of rising costs, I really have to count every dollar. I find that my very modest annual raise does not even come close to accounting for the increase in daily expenses, such as food, gas, utilities, and online shopping. My after-tax income is, in fact, lower than it was last year.

And I have to say, we're struggling. More accurately, we're struggling because of me. You see, I've gotten into the habits of impulse-buying, spending beyond my means, and indulging my every little whim. It's not a big habit--maybe a pack of gum here, an extra pair of socks there, and an unbudgeted donation to my alma mater everywhere. But it adds up.

My fiscally responsible husband has been making me painfully aware of our lack of funds. So now I take drastic steps: I calculate my grocery bills as a running total while I put items in my cart. I apply Tim Gunn's rule: Take a good look at what you're wearing (buying) and then edit. I always remove at least one item.

But today, my shopping went really awry. I bought the fresh rotisserie turkey breast (of course chicken isn't good enough) for the dog, several bars of hubby's special brand of soap,  a few grapes (couldn't even afford organic!), and then added a special fall-themed magazine just for me. I mean, I'm a sucker for gourds and whatnot.

               

Well F that! After my exorbitant total, I perused my receipt. At first I thought the cashier must be perpetrating some sort of fraud. He must be adding a few extra purchases to my total bill of sale and pocketing the proceeds. But no. It was the stupid magazine. Southern Living Decorating. $12 for 112 soft-covered pages of glossy nothing. Now don't get me wrong. I'm a little bit of an autumnal freak. But only in the best way. I mean, I love to use pumpkins and leaves as decor, but I think I should pay a max of $5.99 for any related tips and hints. This is absurd! I think I might actually be the first person to return a magazine to a grocery store.

THIS Is What I Want

My birthday's coming up, and I've got only one desire. She's sleek, powerful, and glorious. Her name is Aerogrow.

Am I weird? Obsessed with the greenery? Nutrient-deprived? Determined to mess with Mother Nature?