Party Fund

I assume most folks have a container in which they dump their pocket change.  I do.  I use stadium cups like those you get at sporting events.  I collect change in them over the course of a couple of years (generally filling several cups to over flowing).

I call it my "party fund."  When I cash in the change for bills, I then use the money for some alcohol fueled indulgence.

I'll be cashing in the cups this weekend.  I hear there's this bar that will give you a t-shirt if you do a shot with a worm in it.  I'll be getting at least one t-shirt with the party fund.  WOOT!

Okay, so maybe I did absorb something from the Old Woman

The Old Woman and I have very different approaches to life.  She worried.  I tended to blithely think that it would all work out, eventually.  She described herself as not just a "glass is half empty" sort of person but a "not only is the glass half empty but eventually someone will come along and empty it and I'll have to figure out how to refill it" kind of person.

She also had remarkable self control.  (As evidenced by the fact I never ended up in military school and/or the fact she NEVER ONCE hit me.  I'm sure there were times I vexed her to the point of wanting to just slap the ever-loving-monkey-grin off my face . . . especially with my fondness for rolling my eyes . . . but she always maintained control.)

One of her favorite things on the planet was chocolate.  Her favorite afternoon pick-me-up was a fine piece of chocolate, and sipping coffee over it as it slowly melted in her mouth.

But, to prove her point to me about self control, she gave up chocolate, once, for a full year.

She was right, of course, that it's often simply a matter of making the decision and following through.  Which is why this "diet" thing seems to be working . . . because one day I just up and decided to do it.  In the back of my mind, I've committed to one year for this experiment.  Next January, I will decide if it was all worth it.  But, in the mean time, my own rules include that I don't stick to the diet when vacationing, and there are days on which I declare to be diet free.  I also don't beat myself up for slipping.  I find I'm more likely to slip when I get tired or hungry . . . so I do try to plan ahead to avoid that.

Now, I've added in exercise.  It started with twice a week yoga.  But, I wanted to add in something more cardio focused.  So, I've downloaded an interval trainer and have decided that when I can, three mornings a week, I will get up early and run/walk.  I'd like to be able to run a local 5K next spring.

Realistic goals, being realistic about personal limits, and self control.  The Old Woman would be so proud.

Good Monkey Deed

We had a wonderful, relaxing, drunken, full-bellied trip to the beach this weekend.  And, I even managed to earn a karma point.

We'd been walking on the beach with one of our friends.  As we came up from the sand and surf, we decided to stop by the bird sanctuary and look at the pelicans and owls being rehabilitated.  As we approached, there was a small family walking back from their day on the beach.  One of the toddlers was tired and wanted to be carried home.  The mother was also tired, and I imagine didn't want a cold, wet, sticky child attached to her.  They were at a stand-off.  Toddler didn't want to prove he COULD walk and mom just wanted to get home and get the wet clothes off.  Toddler was threatening to melt down.  Mom was using her best please-don't-melt-down-see-everything-is-okay voice.

I turned and asked the child "do you want to see the ducks?"  The child was a tad surprised, and I, with spirit squad enthusiasm offered again.  He took off trotting towards me.  I offered to hoist him up to look over the fence, when his mother was able to scoop him up.  We pointed at the owls and the pelicans, and the family of ducks.  And, then the mother turned to walk away (still holding a now happy, distracted child) and mouthed "thank you" at me.

I figure I earned another drink with that one, don't you?

Comforting

The Old Woman was a peace loving human.  And, she had very definite ideas about right and wrong.  And, oh my goodness could she keep a tirade going.  Most often they were directed at me, and aimed at correcting that in me which she felt needed serious attention.  (To be fair, monkeys are frequently naughty.)  Even after I ventured away from their home, into the world, I would still hear her voice.  I think humans refer to this phenomena as one's "moral compass."

Friends who have never met her, feel as if they know her as well as their own relations because of the stories and nuggets of wisdom I have stored up from her.  I suspect a couple friends hear not only their own mother's voices but also the Old Woman's in their heads.

I mentioned that after she died last year, the Old Man took a picture of her that was probably 40-50 years old of her (interestingly, one taken when she was already a grandmother and not one of her as a young woman) and had multiple copies made of various sizes and had them framed and has them all over the house.   I think my specific observation was that if any thing were to inspire her to haunt him, it would be the 16X24 framed copy of this picture that greets everyone as they come in the front door . . . and the many other copies throughout the house.

On my last visit, the Old Man gave me a 5X7 copy of this picture.  He'd made several copies and was making sure everyone had a copy.  I put mine on the fridge, about eye-level.  It is comforting to have her "present" in my kitchen to go along with her voice in my head/heart.

The Happy

The farmer's market is back in full swing!!  And, I'm so happy about it, I actually set an alarm for EARLY on Saturday mornings so I can get there before everything is picked over.

This weekend, for just shy of $8, I got green beans, potatoes, broccoli, shallots, and zucchini.

When I got home, I made some tamari rice and pulled some shrimp out of the freezer to defrost.  Later, I cut up maybe 1/3 of the broccoli, a handful or two of the green beans, and two of the zucchini.  I blanched and shocked the broccoli and beans.  Then, finely chopped one bunch of shallots and made shrimp fried rice.  Since I didn't have any ginger, I drizzled some hot chili oil over the salted and peppered shrimp.  They were sauteed quickly and pulled.  Then the veggies went in, and when they were almost cooked, the rice went in.  Just before serving, the shrimps went back in.  A little drizzle of sesame oil and a bit more hot chili oil and VOILA!! DINNER!  It may have been the best fried rice I've ever made.  The hot chili oil added just the right zing.

Tonight, I had left overs while I made green beans and potatoes for Phenom.  (Phenom, like the Old Man, likes green beans to be cooked soft . . . not the snappy, crispy green beans I like.)  I snapped a bowl full of beans and peeled/quartered a couple pounds of new potatoes.  I salted the water generously and then added a couple spoonfuls of bacon fat, and let it boil for 30-45 minutes.  After serving up a bowl for Phenom, I added a little bit of butter and a grind or two of black pepper.  Apparently, it was delicious.  It smelled good.

I have one more bunch of shallots left, so I think they will go into salad dressing later this week.  Perhaps some roasted baby zucchinis on the salad instead of croutons.  I love the farmer's market.

I own it.

Earlier this week, I was "outted" at a regional managers meeting as an "office tormentor."  I tried to deny it.  I tried to minimize it.  I claimed that the evil side kicks actually enjoy my plots.  It's charming, I said.  It's amusing and keeps morale up, I said.

I pointed out that the evil side kicks actually inflict their own brand of tormenting on me.  ME!  I, too, am a victim of office torments.

Truth?  Yeah.  I have fun at their expense.  Never anything truly destructive.  And, they do laugh.  Perhaps more at the moron they can't believe they work for . . . but it's laughing.

So, I am the chief office tormentor.  And, gosh darn it, people like me!

Indulgence that is probably a waste.

Every year, I buy myself one serious THING and then usually one totally frivolous item.  This year, the THING was this:

The grill with side smoker box for the monkey serious about learning to tame the smoke.  Technically, it's Phenom's birthday gift . . . and the Phenom benefits from my experiments.  Oh, and brine is your friend .  .  . especially brine with beer.

My frivolous item was a subscription to BIRCHBOX .  Once I decided which sort of box would be more appropriate for a monkey . . . I set about ordering.  Once a month, you get a little box of samples.  They are totally random, although there is some attempt, supposedly, to match some of the samples to your preferences.

Beauty products for a monkey?!  I love samples, what can I say?  Plus, this is how I keep my travel bag stocked.  I don't know if the box I got today was really worth $10 . . . but there are several items I think will work beautifully while I travel this summer.  And, as the Old Woman would say . . . you don't know what your favorite thing is unless you try new things.

On the horizon, FUN

One of our all time favorite movies is A Christmas Story.  We love the anticipation Ralphie has, leading up the Christmas morning.  In fact, in keeping with that build up, we never watch it before the 24 hour marathon showing of it on Christmas eve/day.

I kinda feel like Ralphie right now.

I've got fun plans made . . . but waiting is becoming a torture.

This weekend, we are going to a cabin in the woods with friends.  There will be good food and drinking.  But, best of all . . . friends we haven't seen in a long while.

And June is jam packed.  We have a weekend with friends at their beach house.  And, of course, a week in N'awlins.  We have two new restaurants we want to visit this trip.  Daily visits to their menu pages on the interwebz isn't helping me with the anticipation problems.

This trip, the drinking theme/game (you know, drinking is more fun if you have a game) will be Noah's Ark.  We're going to drink the rainbow and collect as many animal (toys) from drinks as we can.  There may or may not (totally) be plans to imbibe a worm in pursuit of a free t-shirt.

And, because you need balance, I'm seriously thinking of signing up for a yoga/cardio bootcamp class.  OY! I've lost my mind, haven't I?

A Plan

Ya'll know how I love to have a plan.  Well, one is coming together.

My bestest human friend and I have decided to get inked together.  As in, the next time we get together, we are both going to get our first (and probably only) tattoos.

And, to make it even more special, another really tremendous friend of mine is currently working on a design for my tattoo.  A monkey, of course.

Squee!

I never much cared before now

Thank goodness Mothers Day is over.  I don't begrudge my friends who are moms their opportunity to spend a lovely spring day with their children . . . having a day off the normal schedule . . . something a little extra fun to celebrate being a family.  And, I really did like seeing all the pictures people posted on facebook of their moms, grandmothers, and even great grandmothers.

But, for me, Mother's Day this year was pretty much a pity party.  Which is weird because Mother's Day was never much of a deal before.

But, this year, Mother's Day was more like my own personal memorial day.  Actually, I think for many humans, Mother's Day is more like their own personal memorial day.

Breakfast made by wee hands are nice.  Homemade gifts with too much glue and glitter last a lifetime.  But you can't really appreciate the holiday until you can't have it anymore.

I'm certainly not unique.  I know quite a few people who experienced their first Mother's Day since the loss of their mothers.  I know a few women who lost their children, and Mother's Day is torture.  And, I even know some people who are, after years of waiting, are finally getting to celebrate being a Mom, which adds another level of bittersweet.  And, in New Orleans, countless families will never regard this day the same again.

Frankly, Mother's Day kinda sucks as a holiday for too many folks.

Gadgets

I've been able to return to sleeping, for the most part.  And, every day isn't consumed with horror over the last days of the Old Woman's life.  But, the ache is still there.  Today, when a store clerk asked if I had "big plans for mother's day?" I just said no, curtly, but what I was thinking was "she's dead, what would you suggest I do?"  But, I didn't say that.

Some times the grief sneaks up on me in the most inopportune times . . . like during yoga class or during TV shows or when I have something fun and cool and groovy I know she'd love.

Like tonight.  Tonight a friend brought me a surprise giftie. A whole set of them.

Interestingly, and unknown to my friend, I actually thought long and hard about buying some of these when I was vacationing earlier this spring.  I looked at them several times, before deciding I had enough gadgets.

And, now I have a whole set.

At the time I didn't buy them, I couldn't figure out how they could possibly work.  There didn't seem to be that much to them.  I think if the store had a demonstration version, I would have bought them.

BECAUSE THEY ARE AMAZING!!!  Really!  All you do is lightly press it on top of any container.  I tried it out on a pottery bowl.  AND IT WORKS!  But, then it lifts off with the lightest touch.

The Old Woman would have loved them.  She would have put them on and off every bowl in her kitchen.  She would have regarded them as something of a miracle.

She hated plasticware because she struggled to get the lids on and off.  The last few years, she would just leave the lids off containers stashed in the fridge because it was so hard to get them on and off.  (I bought her some with screw on lids, but those also created problems after a few washings.)  These babies would have solved her problems.   And, she'll never know about this super cool thing.  And, every time I use them now, I'll be reminded that she would have loved them . . . if she'd lived just a little longer.

The Fat Pants

Everyone has them.  Fat Pants.  The largest pair of pants you own, and when you wear them, it's a bad day.

Today, my fat pants are being put into storage . . . and hopefully given away forever.  I could pull them down without unbuttoning/unzipping them.

It's weird to be sorting through clothes that don't fit because they are too big.  And, it's weird to not be able to buy new clothes because you assume they won't last long.  So, it's to the back of the closet I go, in search of pants that won't fall off.  Cute as they are, no one really wants to see a monkey butt too up close.

Lectures

Our local college held graduations over the weekend.  Several of our interns managed to graduate, a few didn't.  Now that the school year is over, I will be doling out some Old Woman Lectures.

The Old Woman could lecture with the best of them.  She could hold onto a lecture for weeks . . . and even call up old lectures years later if she found them still relevant.  Or, even if they weren't relevant but contained some good lines.

First, to the annoying intern who, although she was a graduate student, managed to accomplish less than our undergraduate interns.  Grow up.  Stop acting like you know what you're doing just because you married a dude 10 years older than you are . . . frankly the fact the relationship started when you were 16 and he was in his mid 20s is creepy and you should stop telling people that part.

To the talented writer who is "out" to everyone but her family.  You are lovely.  You are talented.  Please, don't let booze become your closet.

To bad intern . . . I know this will come as a surprise to you . . . but I promise you that someday you'll have an employer who will make me look like a kindergarten teacher.  Trust me.

To the sorority girl, I still can't wrap my brain around putting eggs in the crock pot over night so you can have a fast breakfast.  Seriously, it takes like 3 minutes to scramble eggs.

Watch and learn.

Let this be a warning.

Not My Fault

Blame the evil corporate overlords.

I know you people have pinned an attitude on me.  I hear the whispers . . . the snickers you think I don't hear.  I know I've never made a small amount of food, ever.  Yes I'm aware that I hardly ever make what others would deem "enough."

But, this time, it isn't my fault.

ESK's birthday is this week.  I found this fab recipe for a tiramisu dip.  Although it has some sugar in it, the straight up dairy makes it a dessert more in line with our diets.  And, I'm going to serve it with a choice of butter cookies or fresh strawberries.  (I have even talked to my favorite strawberry farmer and he is going to deliver a bucket of his choicest strawberries to my office in the morning!)  And, I can tell you now, I'm going to make too much.

But, hear me out.

The recipe calls for 12 oz of marscapone cheese.  But our local grocery only sells 8 oz containers.  So, do I make not enough?  Of course not!  This is a birthday party!  And, the recipe calls for 8 oz ricotta cheese.  And, again, the only sizes of ricotta available at my grocery are 15 oz, 24 oz, and 32 oz.

So, yes, I will actually be making more than the recipe calls for . . . but it ISN'T MY FAULT.  This time.

The saddest thing I've ever heard

Well, in terms of being pathetic.  Not sad as in starving monkeys in some government lab.

As we try to manipulate Happy Intern into staying say good-bye to Happy Intern, we like to give future interns the opportunity to speak with departing interns.  Full circle interns.  Of course, this works best when one isn't giving bad interns the boot.  But, we managed to have Happy Intern in the office the other day when future intern was interviewing.  As they were swapping stories and getting to know each other, the topic of housing came up.  There are several apartment complexes that cater to students surrounding the campus.  Students are forever comparing the various attributes of one complex over another and in comparison to the dorms.

Happy Intern talked about the complex she moved into this year.  For the past two years, she had been living in the cheapest of complexes and hating every moment of it.  From packages that didn't get delivered, to the washing machines spewing rust colored stains all over her work uniforms, to the total lack of response to the criminal activities that seem to take place nightly around the apartments, it was a vile place to live.

I over heard Happy Intern telling Future Intern that the complex she lives in now has pizza parties and they don't even guilt-trip you if you're just there to score a free meal and have no intention of signing a lease.  But, then she said the sad thing.  She said "and, what I really like is that they give us real drinks . . . not the watered down lemonade they serve us on campus."

Oh, poor student thing.  Someday, you will only know "real drinks" and watered down lemonade will just be one of those college memories you laugh over.  I promise.

Pretty much awe

So, one of the funnest things about this new yoga studio is that the cool and groovy humans (and monkey) in this weird little town have something of a secret handshake.  We have our meeting place.  It's our cool people fort and you must be __________________ this cool to come in.

One of the people I have met is a former marine turned high school Spanish teacher.  She also dabbles in herbalism and brings her creations to our classes.  Chocolate/avocado lip balm, why thank you!

Tonight, we were having a fun little facebook exchange when one of her other friends chimed in.  Her other friend happens to be a writer I adored as a young monkey, and have always admired.  I'm afraid I kinda fawned on her.  But, I'm still secretly hoping that she friend requests me.  Or acknowledges my fawning.  Or doesn't think I'm a weirdo . . . I'd settle for her not thinking I'm a weirdo.

Ahhhh Spring

I've gone a little spring crazy.  It was a long, cold winter.  The weather still doesn't seem to want to turn.  I still have not done the annual winter to summer wardrobe switch.  But, I get afternoon sun in my office, and I have the window office.  So, I have a "window farm."

Last week, we had the smallest cilantro harvest ever.  This week, I will need to snip back the parsley.  Soon, I'll have basil for my tomato sandwiches.

Also, in the past week, the strawberry patches have opened up.  I'm a believer in eating seasonally.  I particularly like eating fruit in season.  More precisely, I eat the fruit while it's in season until I'm sick of it.  Then, I'm good until the next year.

I have to confess. . .  I've spent almost $40 on strawberries in the last week.  I might have a problem.

Meh . . . probably not.

HARK!

The end of the school year is upon us!!  I don't think I've ever been so happy to be rid of our interns.

First, there was "Bad Intern" .  .  . and today was the last day for "Annoying Intern."  Annoying Intern was something of a psycho drama queen.  Her day moved from twinge to twinge.  A tweak of itch in her shoulder? Probably a stroke.  A tickle in her tummy?  Aliens getting ready to burst forth.  But, her real problem was that she totally whiffed on an assignment, but blamed it on another staff person.  Then, when the truth was sorted out, she spent her last day pouting and refusing to speak to anyone.  Word of advice, if you ever want to be an intern, don't throw a hissy fit on the day your supervisor will be filling out your semester evaluation.

But, tomorrow will be a grand day, indeed.  Because Happy Intern will be receiving an award.  An award we nominated her for.  And, we told her mother.  Her mom rearranged her schedule so she could see her precious be honored for being so excellent.  The award, and the mother traveling from another state are totally a surprise.  Because, when you're Happy Intern, we want to keep you happy.

And, then we get two blissful, quiet weeks before our summer intern shows up.  I wonder what she'll be?  Obsessed with fitness?  Longing and wishing and hoping to get married even though she doesn't have a suitor?  Super prissy?

Cue smug self-righteousness

And The Phenom thought I was kidding.

My newest "pets" arrived today.  1,000 of them.  I've set up a worm composting system!  I have the cutest little kitchen composting pail and everything.  Because, what you feed your worms need a cute storage container to transport them from kitchen to yard.

So, I pretty much win on Earth Day this year.

Worm food