Disorganized Meal Planning: Two Months Later

A couple Sundays ago, my wife and I sat across from each other at brunch discussing the upcoming week and what nights we'd both be home for dinner. We were looking at the calendars on our phones, and I had papers strewn on the table with previous weeks' meal plans and recipes. The waiter came over - a friendly young guy with a wild mop of sandy blond hair. 

"Looks like you got some work here," he said. 

"We're meal planning," I told him. 

"Meal planning??" He looked at me, incredulous and amused. He tilted his head and asked again. "Meal planning?" 

I laughed and told him it makes things a lot easier. 

He raised his eyebrows, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled at me before asking if we were ready to order. 

When he left the table, Navah and I looked at each other and nodded.

"We're old," I said. 

"Yep." 

Old our not, my disorganized meal planning has been really good for us.

Since I started the process a little over 2 months ago, I have created a weekly meal plan six times. So I've missed a couple weeks - for no real reason other than my level of disorganization keeping me from using even a meal planning process designed for disorganized people. 

Also, developing a habit takes a bit of time. The first few weeks were the most difficult, the ones where I was most likely to remember the whole idea of meal planning at 9:30 on Sunday night. 

But for those 6 weeks that I planned our meals, there were three major benefits: 

1. We ate healthier food. 

When I'm not meal planning, my 5:00 pm self is making the dinner decisions. She's hungry and tired, and all she wants are some carbs and a hunk of cheese. Not inherently horrible, but also not great for many nights in a row. By planning out our meals, I ensured (with relatively little effort) that we would consume some vegetables and a little protein most nights. 

Ironically, having a list of "in rotation" easy meals has also diversified our dinners. I started with a list of 12 meals that I could make without a recipe. I now have 20 meals on the list, some of which require a quick look at a recipe but are still very simple and familiar. With a growing list of meals to choose from, I'm more apt to plan a week with some variety as opposed to the frequent carb and cheese meals we were having before. 

2. We took fewer trips to the grocery store. 

Hallelujah! I stopped going to the grocery store 3 or 4 times a week. On the weeks that I meal planned, I put my plan and list together on Saturday or Sunday morning and did the grocery shopping on Sunday afternoon. Then no more grocery store until the next Sunday! There were a couple times that one of us had to stop to pick up something specific that didn't make it into my meal plan (aka, toilet paper or some other staple), but even so, it drastically reduced the amount of time I spend shopping. 

3. I was less stressed out.

This is, perhaps, directly related to #2 above. Fewer trips to the store meant I had more time at home and a more relaxed cooking experience. I did not come home and wander back and forth between the refrigerator and the pantry trying to decide what to make for dinner, a process that I hate. Instead, I knew exactly what was on the plan, and I knew I had the ingredients for it. My evenings were much more pleasant. Weeknight grocery shopping is the pits (at least for me).

These three things are enough to keep me going with my meal planning, but you might have noticed one glaring omission from the benefits list. 

We didn't save money. 

I thought we would. Each week we did the meal planning, I felt like we were spending less. But when I went back to our bank account and checked the numbers, I was wrong. We spent almost exactly the same amount on groceries in the last 2 months that we did in the 2 months before. Since I did have a bit of a financial motive for the meal planning, I was disappointed by this information. 

I haven't been keeping good enough records to figure out whether there's something specific that's keeping our grocery bills high, but I'm going to keep monitoring it. 

That being said, I'm sold on my disorganized cook's meal planning. 

And I don't even care if it means I'm old. 

Old and well-fed?

I'll take it.


p.s. Taco salad with DIY taco bowls.


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The Seasons of Life

April is a tough one in Vermont. Every morning before I get out of bed, I check the weather on my phone - ours here in Richmond, my sister's in New York, and my parents' in Atlanta. Yesterday morning it was 32 at my house, 50 in the Big Apple, and 72 down south. This is my third April in New England, and it's still hard. Every one else is getting spring, and I'm still stuck in winter. There's still snow on the ground, and I'm still wearing a down coat. 

These cold months have been difficult for so many reasons, and it is so easy - the easiest - to sink into a feeling that how it is now is how it will always be, that this season is endless. It will be winter, forever and always. 

I was tooling around in the archives of my previous blog the other day and came across the post below. I wrote it 5 years ago, and reading my own words again this week was enormously comforting - not because they were somehow brilliant but because they reminded me that the seasons always change. Always. It is never winter forever. Even if I wanted it to stay, it wouldn't. 

So many of the things I longed for 5 years ago have come to pass and some haven't. The life I have now, just 5 years later, is one I never could have imagined - in both wonderful and difficult ways. The seasons have changed. Just like they always do. 

* * *

My girlfriend and I have a recurring conversation about death - or life - depending on how you look at it. She wants to die in her 80s, and I would like someone to come interview me when I'm 110 because I'm the oldest person around. Her reasons make sense - she doesn't want to live long enough to see all of her loved ones die, and she doesn't want to be alive when she can't really live anymore.

It's not that I want those things to happen - it's just that I need the time.  I cling to stories of people who are bopping around, mowing the lawn and gardening when they're in their 90s. There are so many things that I want to do, and I need all those years if I'm going to get to them all.

There are days when I feel just desperate about the fact that I don't have a garden, not even some herb pots by the window.  I wonder how I can dream of having land and a vegetable garden, how I can delightedly buy myself a copy of The Backyard Homestead when I didn't even make it a priority to rent an apartment with a south-facing window. 

I'm daily traumatized by the fact that I don't write regularly, that I haven't acted in years, that I'm not in a choir, that I haven't started my own baking/crafting business spent more time crafting, that I'm not a mom yet, that I've never learned to speak Spanish.

But then I try to calm myself by remembering back to this post I read a couple of years ago.  I don't have to do everything right now - in fact, I can't.  Asking myself to start a backyard homestead while starting a job at a large law firm would be like asking the universe to make it snow while it's 95 degrees outside.  We can't ask for all four seasons at the same time, but just because it's spring now doesn't mean it will be spring forever. 

This is my legal season, and realizing that it will not go on forever will allow me to really appreciate it for what it is.  Believing that there will be many, many years and many seasons in the future for me to do all of those things that pull on my heart strings helps me in those moments where I feel panicked about the things I'm not doing. 

So I'm holding on to all of my dreams and desires and counting on the fact that I'll be around here long enough for their seasons to come.

* * * 

Though let's be real: I never fully appreciated my legal season. Sad, since I'll be paying it off for many seasons to come.


p.s. Donuts for all seasons. 


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Quarterly Book Report: April 2015

I would like there to be an extra day of the week that's devoted solely to reading. In the winter, it would be all about snuggling under blankets with a mug of tea and a weighty piece of emotional literature. In the summer, I would lounge on the back deck with lemonade and a stack of chick lit.

As it is, I try to fit a little reading in when I can. Other things get in the way, of course. More writing = less reading. More cooking = less reading. But then less tv watching = more reading. It's a balance. 

Here are the books that have kept me company over the last three months:  

Yes Please*
Amy Poehler

"Ambivalence is key. You have to care about your work but not the result. You have to care about how good you are and how good you feel, but now about how good people think you are or how good people think you look. I realize this is extremely difficult. I am not saying I am particularly good at it. I'm like you. Or maybe you're better at this than I am." 

Oh, Amy. You could slide Poehler's memoir onto the shelf in the category of "funny lady books," alongside Tina Fey's Bossypants and Caitlin Moran's How To Be A Woman (the latter of which I adored). And there are certainly many chapters of the book devoted to funny stories about her entry into the improv world, tales of pot-fueled improv shows and late night shenanigans at SNL. Those were fun, and I gobbled up the chapters about Parks & Rec and was fascinated by the differences in how various types of television shows are filmed. But I loved this book because of the deeper moments. Amidst the humor, there is a gravity to Poehler's words, a sense of taking stock and looking back on life to better understand the choices made. Make it past the first chapter on how hard it is to write a book, and there are real gems, especially for those of us in our mid-thirties who are still trying to figure out what the hell they're doing.  

Flight Behavior
Barbara Kingsolver

“This was a living flow, like a pulse through veins, with the cells bursting and renewing themselves as they went. The sudden vision filled her with strong emotions that embarrassed her, for fear of breaking into sobs as she had in front of her in-laws that day when the butterflies enveloped her. How was that even normal, to cry over insects?”

Kingsolver's prose was as beautiful as ever in this sorrowful novel about a rural community, a marriage in trouble, climate change, and a woman on the precipice of the beginning (or the end) of her own life. The descriptions of Appalachia - the people, the landscape, the churches, the views - were spot on. I quarreled with Kingsolver and with her main character Dellarobia throughout the book; I am a long-time lover of Kingsolver's work, but I do sometimes find her fiction preachy. I thought she had a prime opportunity to show the humanity and the sympathy in people we (her liberal readership) wouldn't typically connect to, and while she did a little of that, it didn't quite happen for me as much as I would have liked. When done well, it's one of my favorite things to find in a book. That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed the book, and her exquisite melding of the personal and the cultural and the political drew me in and tapped into my own unsure places. I brought it up at least twice in therapy. So there's that.

Neil Patrick Harris: Choose Your Own Autobiography*
Neil Patrick Harris

"If you had known people would be calling you by your character name for the next twenty years, you might have asked for a different one. Thunderbolt Howswer, say, or Dr. Feelgood, or Baron von Sexy Ass."

I'm sad to say that I was a little underwhelmed by NPH's autobiography - sad because I'm a big NPH fan. (As in, I re-watched Doogie Howser a few years ago on Netflix.) I thought the alternative choose-your-own-adventure style was cute and was handled fairly well on the audiobook I listened to. But I was expecting NPH to be funnier. I guess that's not entirely fair since he's a comedic actor, not a comedic writer. There were some interesting parts about show business, and I loved learning about how his tv career began and what it's like for child actors and their parents. However, the chapters detailing every moment of hosting the Tony's (all 4 times) got a little boring. To be honest, I think NPH is suffering under the weight of hype and my own unrealistic expectations. It's totally not his fault. I still love you, Doogie.

The Rosie Project
Graeme Simsion

"I may have found a solution to the Wife Problem. As with so many scientific breakthroughs, the answer was obvious in retrospect. But had it not been for a series of unscheduled events, it is unlikely I would have discovered it."

I was hooked from the very first page. Don Tilliman, Simsion's socially awkward and utterly delightful main character, pulled me in with his schedules and his timetables and his ridiculous notions about other people's motivations. I loved him instantly, and all that was left to do was spend the next 319 pages laughing at his gaffs, mourning with him in his confusion, and biting my nails until all is made right. I found myself imagining the book as a movie, and I've heard one is in the works. I'm sure it won't live up to my expectations, but I'll take it if it means I get to spend a couple more hours with these characters. (I will be reading The Rosie Effect soon.)

Help Thanks Wow: The Three Essential Prayers
Anne Lamott

"Praying 'Help' means that we ask that Something give us the courage to stop in our tracks, right where we are, and turn our fixation away from the Gordian knot of our problems....someplace else, anything else. Maybe this is a shift of only eight degrees, but it can be a miracle."

Though I read most books on my Kindle or listen to them on Audible, I bought a hard copy of Lamott's new book because I was sure I was going to want to underline a thousand sections and keep the words next to my bed at the ready for any emotional crisis. I thought the book was going to provide the comfort I was looking for this winter, and I was disappointed when it didn't. I'm a big Anne Lamott fan, but this one missed the mark for me. The stories rambled in a way that reduced their impact, and I found myself nodding off as I read. I'll admit that since finishing, I have noticed a willingness to offer up the simplest of prayers - most often Help - in times when I might otherwise go into a mental spiral. But the book didn't act as the balm for my soul that I anticipated. Perhaps my expectations were too high. 

Nothing Like Looking
Chris Van Hakes

"She had curly brown hair that clustered around her forehead and then vanished on the sides, clipped short, only to reappear to rest on her shoulders - tragic hair, like mine. I nodded at her; we were all just a small haircut away from a mullet."

This nerdy, angst-filled story of teenage love is just what I was looking for in these last few weeks to take my mind off troublesome things and escape into an imaginary high school world. Van Hakes knows how to string me along with a smidge of mystery and a cast of quirky, flawed characters that frustrate me just enough to ensure I keep reading until they figure things out and fall in love. In one of my favorite literary styles, Van Hakes weaves J.R.R. Tolkien's The Hobbit throughout the novel, with 16 year olds giving impassioned arguments about who is a dwarf and who is a hobbit in their drama-filled lives. A light read that gets bonus points for reminding me how steamy those chaste high school kisses could be. 

Love At the Speed of Email

Lisa McKay 

"I have often seen refugees in airports in Africa on their way to their new lives, holding nothing but sleeping children and sealed plastic bags full of official documents. I examine them covertly while we all wait to board, trying to imagine what it is like to leave behind the only home you have ever known, perhaps forever, on the strength of nothing but the uncertain hope that there must be something better across that wide, dark oceanic threshold." 

This memoir and transcontinental love story was a light, clever read that gave an interesting glimpse into the lives and hearts of humanitarian workers. The book wasn't mind-blowing, but McKay's honesty about her experiences and her own behavior was refreshing. Though I'm normally a huge sucker for romance, the most exciting part of the book for me turned out to be McKay's work as a stress management trainer for humanitarian aid workers. If you know and love someone who does humanitarian work (as my sister does), I'd recommend it as a way to gain another perspective on what their days might entail. 

*I listened to these on Audible. 

p.s. The best books I read in 2014.

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Project Pie: Passover Chocolate Mousse Pie

Project Pie: I'll be baking 24 pies before Pi Day 2016 to get over my fear of baking pies. And to eat delicious things. You can join me by posting about your pies in the comments or tagging your twitter, instagram, or facebook posts with #projectpie. Make something gooey and delicious!

This chocolate velvet pie is my wife's favorite dessert. It comes with those special feelings that holiday baked goods always have, and it gets bonus points for being adaptable. My mother-in-law served it the first time I spent Passover with Navah's family, and I've made it almost every year since then for Navah's birthday - even with all the various eating restrictions we've worked with over time.

Unfortunately, the making of it has involved a lot of cursing (from me). I can never get the chocolate to melt well and fold into the eggs without getting fudgy, and then it breaks up into little bits throughout the mousse. Navah says it's delicious and she loves it anyway, but it drives me crazy every time.

Once I started the Project Pie challenge, I realized it was time - once and for all - to get this pie right. So I asked my mother-in-law if we could make it together this Passover.

She took out this stained piece of paper with the recipe on it and told me that Navah's aunt (her sister-in-law) found the recipe in a Seventeen magazine when she was sixteen years old, and they've used it ever since, adapting it slightly to meet their Passover needs (aka non-dairy so that it can be served with the meat meal). Navah's mom learned to make it in her mother-in-law's kitchen about 40 years before she taught me to make it in hers. 

We made it with non-dairy whipping cream and kosher for passover semi-sweet baking chocolate, and it turned out perfectly. I'm going to have to try it at home again with the ingredients I generally use - coconut cream and sunspire grain-sweetened chocolate chips - to see if precisely following my mother-in-law's method will turn out a smoother pie. 

Of course, you can make this with regular whipping cream if dairy isn't an issue.

Passover Chocolate Mousse Pie (non-dairy)

7 ounces semi-sweet baking chocolate
3 tablespoons hot water
7 eggs, separated
2/3 cup sugar, separated
1 teaspoon vanilla
1 cup non-dairy whipping cream
pinch of salt

1. Preheat the oven to 350 degrees.
2. In a large mixing bowl, beat the egg whites with a pinch of salt until stiff peaks form. Gently fold in 1/3 cup of sugar and set aside.
3. In a separate bowl, beat the egg yolks with the other 1/3 cup sugar until lemon yellow.
4. Melt the chocolate and water over the stove or in the microwave. Watch closely and stop the heat (either on the stove or in the microwave) before the chocolate has completely melted. Stir to complete the melting process.
5. Mix the melted chocolate into the egg yolks.
6. Gently fold the chocolate mixture into the egg whites that you set aside earlier.
7. Pour half of the mix into a greased pie plate and bake in the preheated oven for 20 minutes. This chocolate crust should rise a bit but will sink while you let it cool (for at least 1 hour).
8. Once the crust is cool, whip one cup of the cream, reserving 1/4 cup for garnish.
9. Add the remaining 3/4 cup whipped cream to the remaining chocolate mixture and pour into the pie crust.
10. Place in the refrigerator for 2 hours - overnight.
11. Serve with a dollop of whipped cream.


p.s. As the snow melts and Spring comes to Vermont in earnest, this is something I'll be worrying about again soon.


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Happiness is looking for you

Happy Easter and Happy Passover! 

I hope this weekend is filled with rest, creativity, and the joy of new beginnings.

Making Friends on the Internet (or Not)

I recently heard another person say - for the thousandth time - that they made some of their closest friends on the Internet, through their blog. I've heard this now on podcasts and audiobooks, I've read it on countless blogs, seen evidence of it in conversation threads on twitter and friend selfies on Instagram, and I've listened to cheers about it at BlogHer.

And every time I think I must be doing the Internet wrong.

* * *

I sat on the edge of my twin size bed and looked up at the NKOTB poster on my wall. My mom stood in front of me as I explained the trouble I had with making friends. 11 years old and new to the wide halls and ramped up social structure of middle school, words like cool or confident would never be used to describe me. I was awkward and sensitive, and though I had some notion that perhaps I was interesting and fun, I couldn't figure out how to convey that to people around me.

While snuggled under the crocheted coverlet during a summer vacation at her grandmother's house, my 5th grade best friend told me that she didn't want to be tied down once we made that transition to the big leagues. We spent the rest of the week drinking homemade lemonade in her grandma's kitchen and going to afternoon tennis lessons, but I knew it was the beginning of the end. With the help of her older sister, she had likely realized - long before I did - how these things work when you're 11. She would be one of the popular girls. I would not.

My mom suggested that I just start saying hi to other students in the halls.

I turned my gaze away from the NKOTB poster and stared at her.

"Just say HI?" I balked. I gave an exaggerated wave. "Oh hi! I'm Katie, and I don't know how to make friends!" I shouted cheerfully and then glared at her.

My mom pursed her lips. "Well obviously not like that. You could just give a little wave, like this." With her arm held down by her side, she lifted up her hand slightly, cocked her head to the side and gave a quiet and coquettish "hi."

I burst out laughing.

It was obvious she understood nothing about the 6th grade.

* * *

If I want to make my mom laugh, I can still do it by giving her that flirty little "hi."

I made a few friends, but middle school was hard for me just like it is for lots of kids. It took a while to find my people - band dorks, primarily.

Even now, my inner introvert struggles with friend-making. Adults are so much nicer and more welcoming than 6th graders, but you still have to put yourself out there. You still have to know the rules of the game.

When it comes to internet friendships, it seems like everyone else got the memo while I was in the bathroom. Sure, I've exchanged an email or two with someone, had a twitter exchange, said nice things back and forth about a photo. But it's never gone much beyond that. The person I'd say is my "best" internet friend is someone I already knew from college.

I have wonderful friends in real life, people who I can laugh and cry with and who get me. I'm not friend poor. But I spend a pretty substantial amount of time on the web reading and following and putting myself out there. And I want to have greater connection. I want to be part of a greater online community.

I'm walking down the hall, and I'm just trying to figure out how to say "Hi."


p.s. Three years ago today, I made these whole grain pancakes. And I made them again this past weekend.


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Easy DIY Instagram Magnets

I have taken thousands of photos on my phone. Tens of thousands. And I've shared many of them with the world through my Instagram feed. But once I put them out there, they get shuffled to my Instagram archive and out of my mind.

I wanted some way to display a bunch of them in my house because so many inspire happy memories of fun times. Or adorable pictures of my dog that should be visible as a reminder not to murder him when he's being a jerk. Magnets came to mind because the side of our refrigerator is a big blank magnetic canvas that sits in the middle of our primary living space. 

I went to Michaels to see about the magnet situation and was absolutely delighted to find entire sheets of magnetic paper that can simply be run through a printer. Hence began the absolute easiest DIY Instagram magnet project. The biggest amount of time went to figuring out which pictures I wanted to use. 

Easy DIY Instagram Magnets 

Important Note: You can make these even if you think you are not "creative" or "a crafter." Go make some.

1. Choose your photos. If they're not already on your computer, you might need to use an Instagram photo downloader. Most of mine were already on my laptop because it syncs automatically with my camera roll when I plug in my phone. But for some reason, a few were missing, and I used Instagrabbr to get those photos.  

2. Once you've chosen your photos, pull them all up in a photo editor. I used Photoshop, but you can use PicMonkey or Picasa or another similar free editor. Begin to make a contact sheet by dragging and dropping the photos onto a blank 8 1/2 x 11 page. 

3. Resize all of the photos. I sized mine 2 inches x 2 inches. To do this in Photoshop, hit control +  t to select the image and then set your width and height up in the top left corner. Then fill up your page with your images. 

4. Once you have your contact sheet(s) made, load the magnetic paper into your printer and print each sheet out according to your printer settings. You'll likely need to load the paper into a side or back feed rather than the normal paper tray.

5. Voila - sheets of magnetic photos!

6. Cut out each square magnet using a paper cutter, scissors, or an exacto knife. My little Fiskars paper cutter worked perfectly to cut out each square. 

7. Once all of your squares are cut out, hang them somewhere you'll see them everyday!

I adore having these photos out in the open and seeing them as I walk through the house. And I'll definitely be making more because now I have a vision of the entire side of the refrigerator covered in these little happy tiles. 

The whole project only took about 2 hours, and that was mostly because I labored over which pictures to use. Even so, time well spent!

p.s. Back when I was using an Android phone


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Boiled Peanuts (or How to Be a Southerner)

My college roommate got married last May down in that part of northern Florida that is essentially synonymous with southern Georgia. 95 degrees without a cloud in the sky, the air hugged us tightly as soon as we walked outside. We spent a day and a half fanning ourselves while we cut stunning gladiolas from her mother's front yard for the centerpieces, swatting away mosquitos under the Spanish moss, and wiping the sweat (excuse me, the

glisten

) and melting sunscreen from our brows as we carried tablecloths and homemade strawberry cake into the garden center where she would say "I do" to her long-time boyfriend under the oak trees.

We woke happy and hungover the day after the wedding, rummaged through the refrigerator in our bathing suits, and dumped leftover corn on the cob and barbecue sandwiches and beer into a cooler. We shoved ourselves into a couple cars with the bride and groom (now husband and wife) and headed south for a few hours at the beach, a little friend-accompanied pre-honeymoon.

Before we turned left onto the long straight road aimed toward the Gulf, we stopped at a little wooden hut where an older gentleman sold us boiled peanuts for five dollars. We breathed in the smell of the salty brine and with soggy napkins crumpled in our fingers, we passed the hot bag around the car.

The beige sand stretched along for miles, and we sat on the edges of a sheet under the pop-up canopy drinking and snacking and telling stories. When it got too hot, we waded into the calm water and tried not to step on the horseshoe crabs zipping around underneath us. The sun started to dip below the horizon, and we rolled up the sheet and walked barefoot back to the cars.

We drove back in the dark, tired and sandy and satiated.

Boiled Peanuts 

From

EJ

, with much gratitude

Raw peanuts in their shells (not roasted)

Salt

1. Dump about 2 pounds of peanuts in their shells into a stock pot and cover with water plus an inch or two more.

2. Bring to a boil.

3. Add 1/2 cup salt and turn down to a simmer.

4. Simmer covered for 1 1/2 - 2 hours and then check to see if the peanuts are soft. (I actually had to cook mine for about 4-5 hours. I think I didn't add enough water in the beginning - I added more - and perhaps had them on too low of a simmer).

5. Once the peanuts are soft, turn off the heat and let them sit in the salty water for at least a half hour.

6. Drain the peanuts in a colander and store in an airtight container in the refrigerator. They can be reheated in the microwave or eaten cold.

Shout out again to EJ

, who made this walk down memory lane possible by sending me the peanuts and the recipe. Thank you thank you thank you!

p.s.

You can go home again

.

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, 

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, or 

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 so you'll never miss a post. And you'll earn my undying affection!

These Days: March

thanking God for evening walks before the sun goes down
baking delicious pies 
listening to podcasts - this one and this one and this one - as often as possible
loving the melody of birds in the morning
waiting for an appointment at the knitting store so I can learn to finish making my sweater
snuggling with Navah and Jammer whenever I can
writing every day
learning to take better indoor photographs with a light bounce
sleeping excessively late on Saturday mornings and loving it
planning a summer vacation, but...
wishing flights out of Burlington were cheaper
trying to follow my own advice
watching my wife do our taxes (score)
practicing compassion, especially around my body
feeling invigorated by creative projects and goals 
praying for the families of the people on Flight 9525
dreaming and scheming about our summer garden 

p.s. These chipotle sweet potatoes are on my meal plan this week for the first time in a long time. 

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Weekend Reading: Become a Better Person

This weekend's quote from Eleanor Roosevelt is in honor of the struggle, the mess, the hustle, the compassion that gets you up off the couch. Here's your quick and dirty weekend reading list from around the web, guaranteed to make you a better human being.*

Become...

A person with more time: No need to spend hours on the computer looking up recipes. Here's a collection of the best back-of-the-package recipes out there. Take that extra time and go for a walk or dance in your kitchen.

A more joyful person: You cannot watch this video and not feel joy. It's just not possible. Also, you'll build up a whole list of movies you want to watch just for the dance scenes.

A more caring person: It's true what they say - caring for yourself helps you better care for others. And these suggestions for a little literary self-care can help get you there. 

A less troubled person: Let the snapping turtle go. Find a bandage and release your soul. 

An inspired person: Make something new and special. Let these absolutely gorgeous prints inspire you to look at everything as a possible medium to be made into something else. 

A happier person (scientifically!): This isn't just me saying this stuff, folks. It's SCIENCE. 

*As I've said before, simply reading these articles probably won't make you a better person. But they're interesting, and anyway, I recommend seriously considering whether you're perfect already - just the way you are.

p.s. Thai red curry for your weekend cooking.


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The Messy Shot

not really that messy, but you get the idea

Over the weekend, I walked past my studio and said "Woooh, looks like someone's creating things in there!" Navah laughed, "Is that what we're calling messy these days?"

"When it's in my studio, it is," I smirked.

We both laughed. 

And then I thought about it for the rest of the day. 

When I'm really in my creative space, when I'm painting and scheming and cooking and making things, my home looks like a disaster. The mess is huge - it can spread across multiple rooms. And sometimes I have to leave it like that for a day or four or a week or more while I tend to other things or think about what comes next. 

And thank goodness I have the space (and the understanding spouse) to do that. To make an enormous mess in the name of creating something special. 

That's what I was thinking as I got back to my painting project on the floor of my studio. And as I brushed on the metallic paint, I had this realization. 

My life is messy. I'm always saying that. 

It's messy and disorganized and chaotic and difficult. I'm always trying to figure out some way to add more structure, to contain things, to clean it up. And I'm not just talking about my house or my car or my inbox or my desk. I'm talking about my life. I'm talking about my thoughts and emotions, my behavior, my dreams, and my love. 

I spend so much time wishing it would all make sense. I want to know why I feel what I feel, and I want to be able to turn it off if it doesn't suit me. 

I told my therapist the other day that every time I am feeling upset or experiencing anxiety, my first instinct (and often my only instinct) is to make it go away. Return to neutral. I almost never think This feels terrible, and then just stop and feel terrible. I feel terrible while simultaneously attempting to neaten everything up, to figure out (a) why I feel terrible, and (b) what I need to do to stop feeling terrible, and (c) how quickly I can do that thing. And I'd like to figure all that out in a way that can be summed up in an alphabetized outline.

When my life is messy, my instinct is always to try to clean it up. 

But guess what we're calling messy these days? 

Yep.

The mess is where the creation happens. Not the cleaning up. 

The mess is the indicator. The mess says Work in Progress. The mess says Take Note. Things Are Happening Here.

The mess is being made in the name of creating something special. 

Honor the mess.


p.s. No, I can't.


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Painted Clementine Box

It took me forever to give clementines a chance. I've always hated tangerines (still do), and clementines looked way too much like tangerines for my comfort. But one day at work many jobs ago, a coworker offered me a clementine when I said I was hungry and had forgotten to bring an afternoon snack. I didn't want to be rude, so I took it. Of course, it was amazing. 

Now when clementines are in season, I eat at least two of them every day. Maybe four. It depends on how snacky I am and how sweet the particular batch I got is. Some days I feel like they're the only positive element of winter - that and getting to wear chunky sweaters.

Every now and then I buy them in one of those orange netted bags, but usually they're in a wooden box. By the end of the winter, I've thrown away perhaps a dozen of them. They're not recyclable (at least not here), and I feel terrible about it. So I've started to put them to use as storage containers. 

I had a perfect spot for one at the bottom of the new multi-shelf floor lamp in my studio, but it needed to look pretty. So I did a quick paint job, and now it's holding all of my stamping supplies (of which I have a surprising amount) and looking good doing it. 

You may have noticed a theme with my craft projects. For the most part, easy is the name of the game for me. It's not that I don't love more involved projects. It's just that I have a hard time finishing them - they're all in partially completed form in rubbermaid containers in the closet. Whoops.

No need to put this one away for later. You can finish it in an hour, tops. And most of that time is waiting for the paint to dry. 

Materials
Clementine box
2 bottles of craft paint in coordinating colors
paint brush
painters tape 

1. Tape diagonally from corner to corner across each side of the clementine box to mark off the bottom section of the box. 

2. Paint the taped off bottom section with your first paint color. I chose a metallic gold. 

3. Once that has dried, remove the tape and then tape again across the straight line of that gold paint from corner to corner to mark off the top section of the box. 
4. Painted the taped off top section with your second paint color. I chose a soft purple. 
5. Once that has dried, remove the tape and voila! 

Note: You could paint the box all over, then tape off the bottom section and paint that in the coordinating color to save yourself the effort of taping twice. But since the taping doesn't take much time and cuts down on the amount of paint I use, I went that route. 

It fits perfectly on that last shelf of my new lamp and corrals all my stamps and ink pads, which had previously been floating around in a giant bin that had a random assortment of crafty things. Organization win!

p.s. That crocheted bag. The sewing machine. The needlepoint save the date. 

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5 Things You Can Do Today to Get Out of Your Funk

March can be rough, especially up here in New England where the promise of Spring rings hollow when you're tromping through the snow. If you, like me, are finding yourself knee deep in a classic funk, here are five things you can do today to help move yourself in a more positive direction. I won't call them easy because absolutely nothing is easy when you're in a funk. But these steps are short and straightforward and might give you just the jolt you need.

***

1. Go outside.

I know. It's cold and icy, and the fuzzy socks you're wearing are too thick for your boots. The couch and the blankets are embracing you in one giant soft hug, and they would probably be sad if you left. Also, you were just thinking about maybe doing some dishes. Maybe. And you can't do dishes if you're outside.

I know all of this. Go outside anyway. Look up at the sky. Look down at the ground under your feet. Put the palm of your hand against a tree. Breathe in. Breathe out.

2. Put down the food. 

Do not stop at the gas station for donuts. Shove that jar of peanut butter back into the pantry. And for the love of God, step away from the Cheetos. I'm not bashing the Cheetos - they're delicious. Except when you're eating them day after day after day to fill a void. Any food consumed for the purpose of filling a void tastes like cardboard dipped in nothing sauce. Even Cheetos.

This might be the hardest thing you have to do. Remember how it feels when the bag is empty and your fingers are orange and all you can think about is another bag. Hint: it feels like sh*t and not at all like being satiated.

3. Call a friend. 

Stop pretending that you lost your phone or that you can't hear me over the noise from the nine-thousandth episode of 30 Rock you've watched today. Put down the block of cheese, and dial the number for someone you like. Ask them how their day was, what's been going on with their marriage or their job or their kids or their art or the cute guy they've been obsessing over.

Listen. Listen to something other than the cranky ramblings of your own mind.

4. Dance.

I know. Your legs are sore from walking up and down the stairs to get more peanut butter. And dancing is the absolute last thing you want to do. You're tired - exhausted really - and not interested in anything so rambunctious. You're not even sure you could will your body to move in a happy way.

Maybe you're right. But try this for me anyway. Go into your kitchen (kitchen dancing is the best) and put on your favorite peppy music. No sad stuff. I know you like at least something with a beat. Lady Gaga or Taylor Swift or Sir Mix a Lot or the Four Seasons or the Beastie Boys or your Pitbull Pandora station. Absolutely no Adele. Give yourself ten minutes. No pressure. Just nod your head along to the music. See what happens.

5. Get it done.

Your to-do list is out of control, or else you've just stopped keeping one because honestly, you're so lazy and disorganized that what's the point? Your sink is full of dishes, your bedroom looks like it was robbed by a psychotic clothes whore, your inbox is a disaster, and everything you've ever promised anyone you'd do has fallen through the cracks.

I hear you. You're a complete and total waste of space. But just humor me on this one. Set a timer for 10 minutes. And then go. Don't think. Just do. Make your bed. Answer an email. Wash some dishes. Just for 10 minutes. Then this is the most important part: when the timer dings, pat yourself on the back. Literally reach your arm over your shoulder, pat yourself on the back, and say (out loud), "Hey, good job, you." Go sit back down on the couch or do another 10 minutes. Either way, well done.

***

Above all, be compassionate with yourself. You won't be perfect, and getting out of your funk takes time. Try not to berate yourself if you don't wake up tomorrow morning feeling like a million bucks. Also, one word of caution: when you're in a funk, being compassionate can get a little confusing. What seems like compassion at other times - hey, I had a long week. It's okay if I veg on the couch for 4 hours tonight watching a Friends marathon - might not be compassion when you're in a funk. When you're in a funk, your compassion might need to be a little tougher. Compassion might need to get you up off the couch and outside for a walk because staying there and watching the next episode guarantees you'll stay in that funk.

If you hadn't noticed, I could have titled this post "Dear Katie," but I thought there might be some other folks out there who'd benefit from the same advice I've been trying to give myself. And being nice to people is another thing that can help get you out of your funk. So there you go.

One final note: I'm not a therapist or a medical professional. If you think you may be clinically depressed or could just use someone to talk to, please seek out a therapist. Therapy is for winners.

p.s. Also, maybe you don't have a life that's meant to be gotten together either.

Project Pie: Whole Wheat Maple Apple Pie

Project Pie: I'll be baking 24 pies before Pi Day 2016 to get over my fear of baking pies. And to eat delicious things. You can join me by posting about your pies in the comments or tagging your twitter, instagram, or facebook posts with #projectpie. Make something gooey and delicious!

After I announced my pie-baking intentions last week, I got a super nice email from Elizabeth sharing a pie crust recipe that she promised was "crazy easy." It was so kind of her to send the email ("I figure if you find a recipe that works, share the hell out of it, because sometimes finding good yummy recipes is not always easy."), and it pushed me from thinking about baking another pie to actually baking another pie this weekend. 

And she was right. Crazy easy pie crust - even with whole wheat. 

I went with an apple pie for #2. And here's the thing about apples: I am super picky about apples for eating straight. An apple must be crisp, juicy, and sweet. Not tough or grainy or mealy or tasteless or soft or bitter. I simply won't eat it. And this time of year can be a little rough on that front. My favorites are Honey Crisp and Pink Lady, but those are difficult to come by. What I see a lot of are big bags of apples that I don't really love to eat - Macintosh, Macoun, Empire. Generally not good for eating (in my opinion), especially when they've been stored since the Fall, but they are excellent for cooking. 

Those bagged apples were just begging me to make an apple pie. 

And thank goodness because apple pie is freaking delicious. I forgot a little bit until my taste buds reminded me. 

Of course everything we make in this house is a little bit wacky, so our apple pie has a 100% whole wheat pie crust (delicious) and is sweetened with maple syrup and coconut palm sugar (also delicious) and no refined sugars. But I would happily feed it to guests with no food restrictions. It's that's good. 

Navah proclaimed it the best thing I've ever baked. 

Maple Apple Pie (whole wheat, without refined sugar)

100% Whole Wheat Crust

from Elizabeth Patel

2.5 cups flour (I used white whole wheat)

2 sticks (or 1 cup) butter or margarine (I used earth balance)

2 ounces cold water

2 ounces vodka

1. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. 

2. Cut your butter into chunks (best if they're not all uniform in size) and put in the freezer for at least 10 minutes.

3. Add the flour and butter to your food processor and pulse 8-10 times, or until the mixture looks a little crumbly. Stop before it starts to look like cornmeal. You want some different sized buttery chunks. 

4. Pour in the water and vodka and pulse again 8-10 times until the dough starts to come together. Stop before it forms a big ball. 

5. Take the dough out of the food processor. It should all stick together at this point. Separate the dough into two equal chunks. Using a rolling pin, roll out 1 chunk of dough on a lightly floured surface until it is about an inch wider than your pie plate all the way around. 

6. Pick the crust up by rolling it onto your rolling pin and place it into your pie plate. Cut off any excess around the edges and put the crust into the refrigerator to chill while you make the apple filling. 

7. Wrap the other chunk of dough in saran wrap and put into the refrigerator. 

Maple Apple Filling

5-6 apples (I used Macintosh)

1 tablespoon butter or margarine (again, I used earth balance)

2 tablespoons whole wheat flour (I used white whole wheat)

1/2 cup coconut palm sugar

2 tablespoons maple syrup

1 1/2 teaspoons pumpkin pie spice

1/4 teaspoon sea salt

1 tablespoon lemon juice

1. Peel and cut up the apples - I used a simple corer/slicer and then cut each slice two more times lengthwise. 

2. Put the apples into a microwave-safe bowl and microwave for 5-6 minutes. 

3. Drain the liquid from the apples and then add in the rest of the ingredients and mix until incorporated. 

Putting the pie together

1. Pour the apple mixture into your chilled pie crust. 

2. Roll out your second chunk of dough until it's about 1/8 inch thick and use cookie cutters to cut out shapes. 

3. Place the shapes onto the pie crust in a pattern that suits your fancy. 

4. Bake the pie at 375 degrees for 1 hour. If the edges start to brown or burn, use tin foil to cover them and continue cooking. 

5. Serve warm. 

As you can see from the pictures, I'm not perfect at pie crust making - the edges of my crust don't go over the edge of the pie plate. I underestimated how much crust (and how many apples) I would need to fill up the deep dish pie pan. But the idea here was to bake more pies and to stop feeling intimidated, not to be perfect. Remember the rules?

1. Make some pies.

2. Don't cry if they're not perfect.

Anyone else out there baking a pie this week? What kind? I need ideas for pie #3!

p.s. This vegan apple crisp is another great way to use those bagged apples.

Weekend Reading: Become a Better Person

Here's your quick and dirty weekend reading list from around the web, guaranteed to make you a better human being.*

Become...

A more inspired person: This is my favorite article ever, or at least this week. Never give up. Ever. 

A healthier person: Reconnect with your inner child and eat some fish sticks, but don't leave out your inner adult - make this baked salmon version

A believer: In love. In fate. In things working out according to some miraculous plan. 

A more grateful + compassionate person: In the grand scheme of things, you're kind of killing it at life. Say thanks and give yourself a break.

A more giggly person: No one will judge you if you watch this once every hour for the next few days. 

A more actualized person: Harness your energy. Know your own mind. 

*As I've said before, simply reading these articles probably won't make you a better person. But they're interesting, and anyway, I recommend seriously considering whether you're perfect already - just the way you are.

Wooden Over-the-Door Sign Tutorial

I'm love love loving my THIS IS THE DAY wooden sign. I feel like it's cheering me on as I get ready for work in the morning. 

It was super easy to make, and I'm guessing there's a door in your house that could use a little up top decorating. So here's a quick and dirty tutorial to make your own over-the-door painted wooden sign. (I was inspired by this gorgeous table project from Domestic Imperfection.)

Materials

1 x 4 wood cut to width of doorway (mine was cedar cut to 2 ft)

White craft paint 

Paint brush 

Wood stain in color of your choice

Foam brush 

Paper towel

Printer 

Tape

Paper cutter or scissors 

Power sander or sandpaper 

Carbon tracing paper
Large sawtooth hanger

1. Lightly sand your wood board, either with sandpaper or a power sander. This doesn't need to be perfect. Just remove the rough edges.

2. On your computer, type out the words you want on your sign and choose a font. Increase the size so that the letters are slightly less than 4 inches tall and will fit lengthwise across your board. Because I was trying to save paper and not do a bunch of trial and error printing, I set my page view to 100% and put a ruler right up to the computer screen. 

3. Print out your words and cut off excess paper. Getting your cuts nice and straight at this stage will make things easier in the next step. I used a paper cutter. 

4. Tape the words together, leaving appropriate space in between words and then tape the whole phrase down to your board just on the two short sides. Because my paper edges were straight and even, I was able to line them against the edge of the board to make sure the phrase would be straight. Center the phrase by measuring the distance from the short edges. 

5. Slide your transfer paper underneath the printed paper taped to your board so that there is a layer of transfer paper between every letter and the wood board. (And please take note of my awesome vintage carbon tracing paper, a gift from my stepmom.)

6. With a pen or pencil, carefully trace around the edges of all the letters. When you're finished, remove the papers and transfer paper, and you should have transferred an outline of the phrase onto your board.

7. With your white paint and paint brush, fill in the outlines of all your letters. You may need multiple coats. Allow the paint to dry as long as necessary, according to the instructions on the bottle. 

8. Once the paint is dry, cover your work surface and brush your stain onto the board with the foam brush. Allowing coats to dry slightly in between applications, brush on stain as many times as necessary to achieve your desired color. 

9. Once the stain has dried, find the middle of the board and attach the sawtooth hanger. 

10. Hang in a perfect spot over your door. 

p.s. I love this almost as much as my needlepoint save the date, and this sign was way less time-consuming.

Writing More Letters

Letterpress note cards / Happy Mail stamp / Flower card 

It started during our visit to the Grand Canyon this summer. All the gift shops had postcards of these fabulous vintage posters from the 1930s. I loved them instantly and wanted to share them. So I bought seven and sat on the edge of the Canyon and wrote quick little notes about how stunningly beautiful and expansive and life-affirming it all was and sent them off to my friends and family.

And then for the next few days, I thought about each of them opening the mailbox and finding a little note and smiling because there was something pretty and nice tucked in among the bills and new car insurance offers.

It's a little Do Unto Others, I guess, because I love getting snail mail. Receiving an unexpected card can brighten my whole day. And so can writing one.

I write different things on a card than I would in an email. I don't plan it that way, but I find myself writing about the slope of the snow on our back deck, the song I heard on the radio that reminded me of them, the feel of Jammer curled up next to me. My words are softer with a pen in my hand than with my fingers on the keys.

I don't worry about whether life will have changed by the time they receive my card, whether what I wrote on that paper will no longer be true because I think part of the magic of snail mail is that it allows a little time travel. 

With a letter, I capture a moment in time, the way I was feeling, the things I was seeing, the thoughts that were running through my mind. I seal that moment up and send it away. And a few days later, someone I love experiences that moment again, filtered through their own heart and mind. My letter bent the space-time continuum. 

I love that about snail mail - the utter snail-ness of it. When I get a card from my friend Beth, I think about the fact that she sent it three days ago and right now she's not even thinking about it. She's eating dinner or grading papers and maybe even forgot she sent me a letter at all, but I'm with her in that moment from 72 hours ago and it's living again in me.

I'm not one to spend much time complaining about social media or the speed with which we receive information. I love email and twitter and imdb. 

But I'm having an affair with snail mail, and it's pure magic. 

p.s. My new stamp had me pulling out my ink pad, which I haven't used since I made these Thank You cards. 

This Is The Day

Growing up, I loved the summer days I spent hanging out in church auxiliary rooms at Vacation Bible School. If you're not familiar, VBS is essentially a week-long day camp where you make craft projects and play games and learn some Bible stories. 

And you sing. 

At the end of each day of Vacation Bible School at my Methodist church, we'd file into the pews in the little chapel and sing camp songs. This was my favorite part. 

This was the part where your teacher might put her hand up to her ear in the universal sign for I Can't Hear You, Please Shout At The Top Of Your Lungs. And fifteen little seven year olds would gleefully throw their heads back and yell out the words to This Little Light of Mine until they were hoarse. 

As an adult, you're expected to hit the right note and keep your voice as clear and soft and in tune as the voices around you. As an adult, you're expected to regulate. Don't get me wrong - I love singing in choirs and making beautiful music. I love harmonizing and the goose bumps that come from a perfectly executed pianissimo. 

But shout-singing, that realm of the uninhibited child, has always felt a bit like prayer to me. 

One of my favorites was a call-and-response style number with these words: 

This is the day
That the Lord has made
Let us rejoice 
And be glad in it.

I taught it to my wife early on in our relationship by shout-singing it one morning to pump myself up before classes. By then I had changed "the Lord" to "God" in my own rendition. It didn't take Navah long to learn the basic tune, and it quickly became a staple get-pumped-for-the-day song around our house. One of us takes the leader lines, the other repeats back with gusto, and when we get to the words that call for unison, we each try to sing-shout louder than the other as I yell THIS IS THE DAY THAT GOD HAS MADE and she yells THIS IS THE DAY THAT HASHEM HAS MADE (because that's how you do interfaith right). Jammer wags his tail.

It's silly, and it's also my most joyful prayer. It's a thank you to God (who or whatever I believe that to be on my ever-evolving faith journey) for this exact day, a reminder to myself that there is hope and possibility in the act of waking up to a new sunrise, that there is something inherently magical about being alive to experience this life, that happy shouting is a heart opener. 

When I started thinking about a project for over the doorway in our main living space, I knew immediately what I wanted - a symbol not just of the potential in every day, but of the joyful exuberance of the little seven-year-old I still have inside me. 

I painted and stained this wood board with the line THIS IS THE DAY over the weekend, and when I stepped back from hanging it up, I squealed and giggled involuntarily. 

Yes. 

This is the day. 

p.s. Another of my favorite childhood songs. 

Project Pie: Vegan Shepherd's Pie

While having lunch with a friend a few weeks ago, the conversation turned to dessert, as always happens with the best conversations. And my friend and I both agreed that the most marvelous desserts are those that end with the word pie. Cherry pie. Apple pie. Key lime pie. Chocolate mousse pie. Pecan pie.

Before I go full Forrest Gump on this, I think we can all just agree that pie is delicious.

Even if you are someone who would choose a seven layer cake over a blueberry pie, there's no one out there who would claim to not like pie, right? Actually, don't answer that question. I don't want to know.

So I've had pie on the mind, and then all the sudden, it was Pi Day, and my social media/phone addiction became intimately linked with a desire for anything baked in a deep round dish. Every time I pulled up a feed, there was another picture of a pie.

You would think this is the part of the story where I share about how I rushed into the kitchen and prepared some fruity goodness with a flaky crust, but here's the thing: I'm afraid of making pie.

The crust intimidates me. The possibility of a lot of effort and a terrible outcome seems significant. Especially when you throw in the fact that I'm often working with some odd assortment of alternative ingredients. It has to be whole wheat or egg-less or vegan or made without refined sugars. Or (E) all of the above. And the panic sets in. What if it sticks to the pan? What if the crust crumbles and falls apart? What if the filling is too liquid and pours all over the pan when I cut the first piece?

To avoid anxiety attacks, I've avoided pies.

But lately I've gotten kind of tired of avoiding things that intimidate me. I'm not jumping out of planes or anything, but I think anxiety is a pretty lame reason for me not to be eating more pie. I mean, if I were anxious that the pie was going to kill me or something, that would be different. But worried that I won't get it perfectly right?

Not a good reason to limit my intake of homemade goodness.

Hence the introduction of Project Pie.

From now until the next Pi Day, I will make 24 pies. I figure two pies a month is something my hands (and my belly) can handle. Feel free to join in if you're needing a little more pie in your life.

The rules are:
1. Make some pies.
2. Don't cry if they're not perfect.

And since I'm in favor of baby steps on the path to pie baking euphoria, I started with something simple - this vegan shepherd's pie from Minimalist Baker. No pesky crust to worry about. Just lentils and veggies topped with mashed potatoes. What could go wrong with that? Absolutely nothing. It was delicious.

And now that I've got Pie #1 under my belt, I'm looking forward to testing the waters a little with something more courageous next time.

Stay tuned.


p.s. Make these pistachio and coconut stuffed dates dipped in chocolate. Enjoy them for me.

Weekend Reading: Become a Better Person

Here's your quick and dirty weekend reading list from around the web, guaranteed to make you a better human being.*

Become...

A happier person: Whoever photoshopped these deserves a giant cake with their name on it. 

A braver person: Maybe fashion is silly. If so, then why not where whatever the hell you want? 

A more productive person: Stop the procrastination game in three minutes. 

A more honest person: The muck is everywhere, in everyone. 

A more annoying person: Because being annoying makes you a better person if it's because you're correcting someone's grammar. No? 

A fuller person: As in, full of delicious ice cream goodness. (and probably a little full in the middle)

*As I've said before, simply reading these articles probably won't make you a better person. But they're interesting, and anyway, I recommend seriously considering whether you're perfect already - just the way you are.

p.s. Make some granola this weekend. Your house will smell amazing.