New Year

You've got to love January. Once you get over the post-Christmas letdown and post-New Year's letdown and survive that hellish first day back at work, that is.

Because in January, you finally have time? get up the motivation? to do things like call the city and request another recycle bin. And replace dull eyebrow scissors. And it feels fantastic. Never have I been so excited to go to Target and Ikea. And you know what else is great? Green pepper, eaten raw. Like nirvana after the cheese platters and cookie trays of December.

2009 is another blank slate, a new training schedule up on the fridge, a year of possibilities. And I am ready for it.

Nov/Dec book list

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson. Highly recommended murder mystery tale, set in Sweden and sure to be followed by two sequels.

French Milk by Lucy Knisley. Graphic novel about a 22-year-old's stay in Paris with her mother. Beautifully done. Reminds you what it was like to be 22 again.

Dreams from my father by Barack Obama. A bit slow, but really interesting... good to know more about our next president.

Tipping Point by Malcolm Gladwell. Although I don't buy into this as a life-changing theory, Gladwell empowers you to use your common sense to think critically about problems and consider new solutions. Good for the workplace.

Noisy Outlaws, Unfriendly Blobs, and Some Other Things...Stories by Nick Hornby et al. Classic book of stories, would be fantastic for kids, not bad for adults, either.

Also read:
To Siberia - Pers Patterson

Handmade holidays

Gave:
- The best homemade gifts I gave (with my brother) were hardbound books of photos from our spring trips to my parents. We used the Mac program iPhoto and they turned out amazing--really good quality, attractive and clean template options, and bright color. My parents were thrilled, especially as they, like many people, don't order prints anymore and have all their photos on the computer.

- Candied orange peel (amazing! Like super flavorful gummy worms. I used KC's recipe from last year with a few modifications (boil a lot longer).

- Stuffed birds to crafty co-workers. A friend had sent me the free sewing pattern.


















I infusing some of the stuffing with a few drops of lavender oil (from a farm in Sequim, WA, purchased on our trip). In others I swapped the lavender for some dried catnip to give as a cat toy.


















I made biscotti (again), only because KC asked if I was going to make "my biscotti," as if it were my thing, which tickled me and made me want to make it. I tried to grow enough herbs and peppers to give as gifts but our week or two of neglect while on vacation did them in.

I also ran out of gift tags, but made some using paper samples and a rounded corner punch, and was pleased with the result.


















Received:
The best homemade gift by far was this tasty bottle of limoncello, luckily caught on photo before the contents had disappeared. (Lest you think we're greedy lushes, we have been sharing the Christmas cheer with in-laws and other guests).
























Merry Christmas!


Christmas eve at my parents.

Google stalking my husband

So Husband's been getting a bit of publicity lately, and I was having a hard time tracking it all down... searching for news clips, checking city magazines, etc. and I realized that there was a much better way to do this: set up a Google alert for his name. We use these at work all the time to track buzz (news, blogs, videos, etc.) about our institution... Google wraps up all the new hits and sends it to you in a nice tidy daily email.

And it's been effective--no more searching. But damn, does it feel creepy to get these alerts in your email. That's probably because it is creepy.

Growing up

My secondary New Year's resolution last year (after "do less") was "let myself be a grown up." This one is a little hard to explain quickly, but in short: there was something about being the youngest in both my immediate and extended family (at least in my generation) that I was letting carry too much weight in how I presented myself; and I wanted to remind myself that that role was self-imposed.

Anyway, I was reminded of that resolution recently at work, when I started scrutinizing my emails and not liking what I found. These may have more to do with female social patterns than feeling inferior, but nevertheless, I am working on:

Eliminating or at least reducing qualifiers, such as "just" in "I just wanted to check..."
Not feeling the need to use !s

Omitting the omnipresent "Thanks," when it's really not needed.

To compensate and extend a bit of warmth, I've added what I hope is the neutral "Hi," i.e., instead of "George," "Hi George."

Sew

After a bit of exploration, I've decided sewing and embroidery are for me. Sayonara, knitting. Crocheting, you can stuff it.

After getting a sewing machine in June 07 and completing classes early this year, I'm starting to try my hand at a few things.

I made the most basic, most beginner of all quilts, a simple lap quilt.
























Emboldened, I then made a tree skirt, which turned out to be a bit small for those duties but which filled in nicely as a "table topper." (My great-grandma made the ceramic tree; she was crafty, but my grandma, let me tell you, made a living off of her craftiness. She still reigns supreme over her town's annual fair.)
























Husband finally let us get a real tree. Tree do not photograph well, but I made series of bird and button garlands to help cover for our lack of ornaments.


















Lastly, here's a bit of the embroidery--I'm too enamored with these veggies not to include them.


















I also did a camping series. Not sure when I'll need camping-themed napkins; but if the occasion arises, I'm ready.

Brr

That's my breath. Inside my house.


















We arrived home last night to a broken furnace. Good thing we arrived home late, because after chucking the leftovers in the fridge and putting a few things away, we dove under the covers with the cats and slept away the cold.

But today it feels pretty damn cold (the aluminum casing on the MacBook now seems like a poor design choice). But the repairman's here, and he had the replacement part in his van, so hopefully, soon, heat!

Identity

When my grandparents introduced me to their friends at my grandpa's 80th birthday party, I was "their granddaughter, the runner." My brother was "their grandson, who worked as a bartender in the Virgin Islands." I guess it's better to be something in the present tense, so when I give up running someday, I'll have to replace it with something equally exciting (their granddaughter, the trapeze artist) so I don't become "their granddaughter, who used to run."

Speaking of which, aerial work is apparently an amazing workout...all core strength, says my yoga teacher. So, you know... it could happen.

What are you introduced as?

Wedding season

As I sat with a group of girls affixing tiny sparkles and stitching twine on wedding programs this week, one asked, "So, did you do anything homemade for your wedding?"

Thinking of invites and programs, which I designed with the help of a graphic designer friend but didn't decorate, I declined... then gulped as the memories flooded back.

Oh my goodness, the things people did for me.

1. I made my friend MG, who has the most gorgeous handwriting ever, write all my place cards.
2. My friend EC conceived of and then constructed a forest of tiny topiary trees, color-coded to indicate meal choice, to affix the place cards to.
3. My mother-in-law took on both the favors and the centerpieces, which included folding 175 origami boxes to hold the candies.

And there's so much more I can't even begin to describe it all. Here's just the tiniest smidgen of what my parents did: we left the morning after the wedding for our honeymoon (in first class, thanks to their upgrade) and arrived home (picked up by my parents, of course, who brought my car along since I'd left it at their house) to find all our wedding presents stacked neatly in our second-floor apartment, tuxes returned, and wedding dress shipped off to one of those wedding dress preservation companies.

Is six years too late to send out another batch of thank-yous?
I didn't think so.

Winter arrives

Winter arrived last Sunday, a day that started cautiously sunny but quickly whipped up a cold wind and a sleety, snowy precip. After a quick run and a few timely chores (disconnecting and draining the hose, uprooting and drying the pepper plants) we dove into the house and spent the day reading and being cozy. Husband retired for a nap around 4, and when he still hadn't risen at 6:15 I started calling up gently to him from my perch in front of fire. When that didn't work I progressed to the stairs. He came down a few minutes later wearing his robe.

"You going to take a shower?" I asked, confused, as he'd taken one that morning.
"I was thinking about it," he said defensively.

He stood there aimlessly for awhile, looking at the fire and me and the cats, before confessing that he had thought it was Monday morning.

Tea

Is Tea Forte better than other teas, or it is just the experience that makes it so good? Taking a careful sip from the steaming cup, I decided it doesn't matter.


















Orange pekoe + autumn sky

September/October Book List

September/October books
How to be useful: A beginner's guide to not hating work by Megan Hustad. Not just useful, but actually enjoyable to read. It was so good I took notes. Hustad's target audience is recent grads who work in offices, but I found her advice a much-needed reminder for the getting-complacent late 20s/early 30s, and even helpful in thinking about how to manage others.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. Unapologetically dark, this novel about a orphan and a town in WWII Germany feels like an accurate portrayal about what it might have been like. Rich, deep, and oddly shelved in the young adult section.

When You are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris (audiobook). I loved some of these essays and skipped over a lot on the first few discs... in particular I liked the last third best, especially the three-part essay on how he quit smoking that takes place in Japan.

What I Talk About When I Talk About Running - Haruki Murakami. I love Murakami and I love running... and I think you need to have an affection for both to like this book--it's pretty niche. But if you're in that niche it's great.

Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson.

Political pie

I post this tonight with a heavy heart... after a day spent reading terrible stories about racism and hatred in the upcoming political election, and even worse, receiving an email from a beloved relative espousing all that bigotry and lies, I want to steer clear of anything remotely related to politics so I don't risk offending anyone how I've been offended today. Yet this post was supposed to be so innocuous, so light-hearted, that I'm going to go with it anyway.

I wanted to share with you a recipe that Husband and I came up with during the primary elections. This dish is so named not because it's a commentary on his character, personality, or values, but rather because it's hour-plus baking time lets you stick it in the oven, go and vote, and return to have dinner ready. I thought I'd share it with you in case you wanted to make it election night or to try it beforehand just to wish your candidate luck.


Obama Pie (or, in the spirit of bipartisanship, you may call it McCain pie if you like)
Adapted from Byerly's
Note: this recipe requires thawing in advance

2 T olive oil
2 medium onions, chopped
2 14-oz packages frozen chopped spinach, thawed and well drained
4 large eggs, beaten
8 oz. feta cheese
1/3 cup toasted pine nuts (in oven, single layer, while oven in preheating, 5-7 minutes)
1.5 t salt
4 T butter, melted
8 sheets frozen phyllo dough, thawed

1. Preheat oven to 375.
2. Heat oil in skillet, saute onion until soft, 3-4 minutes. In a large mixing bowl, mix onion with spinach, eggs, feta, pine nuts, and salt.
3. Brush a 9-inch glass or ceramic pie plate with some of the melted butter. Place a sheet of phyllo dough over the plate, letting the ends overlap the side, and butter the top of the sheet. Add three more sheets, buttering in between, then spoon spinach filling into center of pie plate. Top with remaining four sheets, buttering in between and on top of the last one. Tuck in ends of phyllo dough.
4. Bake until browned all over, anywhere from 50 to 1 hour 15 minutes. Let cool 10 minutes before slicing.

Enjoy with a sense of satisfaction for having contributed to the nation's electoral process.

Marathon #8 - TCM 2

I don't think I've fully conveyed the mental anxiety that marathon running induces. I was reminded of it while reading Haruki Murakami's What I talk about when I talk about running. An extremely experienced marathoner, Murakami recounts training really well for a recent race and then tanking near the end. For his next race, he trains more moderately and approaches it in a low-stress whatever-happens mentality, and tanks again.

So in the week leading up to a race I simultaneously fret that I've overtrained (done too many 22+ runs and worn my legs down to shreds) and that I've undertrained (why haven't I pushed myself more on long runs?). I worry that I'll go for too fast of a time and crash in a fantastic heap of hubris, or that I'll go too slow and sell myself short. The only thing that really keeps me sane is having a group of people that I run with and therefore can compare myself to so I have some idea of where I should be.

And so there I was last week at the starting line of the Twin Cities Marathon with my group, distrustful of the cool (45 degree) forecast in our sleeveless shirts, with long socks on our arms to stave off the chill. I never dreamed I'd be wearing those socks until mile 16, but at mile 2 the sky opened up and it rained for the first half of the race. In a crashing downpour we ran around Lake Calhoun and Harriet, a steaming half-naked mass churning through the flooded streets. All I could do was laugh and whoop at the the ridiculousness of it all, and be thankful for the cool weather.

Ever since I crashed last year I've paid a bit more attention to how the weather influences your running ability... Jeff Galloway has a little chart that I've shared with my training groups:

Adjusting Race Pace for Heat:
Estimated temperature at finish - Slower than goal pace - 8 min mile becomes...
55-60 degrees - 1% - 8:05
60-65 degrees - 3% - 8:15
65-70 degrees - 5% - 8:25
70-75 degrees - 7% - 8:35
75-80 degrees - 12% - 8:58
80-85 degrees - 20% - 9:35
Above 85 degrees - Forget it... run for fun

It's a little extreme, but the point is clear: you have a lot better chance of making a good time if it's cooler. So when I realized that we finally had a chance at the elusive 50-degree marathon, I let my goal time creep up a bit and got comfortable with the idea of starting out faster than usual.

After mile 19 we crossed the Mississippi and dug in for the grudge of the last 6+ miles. With much beloved running buddies SJ and AP by my side (making it a little Grandma's reunion), we pulled each other along the river, up the hills and on to Summit Avenue. Miles 23 and 24 were tough, and I had to dig deep... Summit feels never ending and unrelentingly uphill... and seeing how close to the end I got last year was just heartbreaking.

I walked up the last hill around Dale and found myself made a personal mission by a group of crazed spectators... they walked along with me cheering like maniacs and erupted into hysteria when I took off running and didn't look back (thanks guys! whoever you are!). I turned the corner at mile 25 and enjoyed the steady decline of the last mile... running it in to the finish, leaving everything on the course.

I was elated to see the time (4:02! Ten minutes off my PR!) but too spent for tears this time. The relief of stopping running is so amazing... it is the best feeling in the world.

I'm really proud of my time... nervous about replicating it, and conscious that my next goal is clearly the much sought after "sub-4." But for now there is the blessed relief from long-run training and a chance to work on some other running goals over the winter... and to do some non-running things as well! like sewing and baking.

Old shoes

Husband and I got new shoes tonight... I was feeling kind of guilty (at least in my case; Husband's shoes were a sodden mess) but a quick peek at the bottoms made me feel justified, if not horrified that I'd still been running on them.

Old vs. new
























Note the wear, especially at the tops and bottoms. They haven't come out with a new version of 2130s yet so I ended up getting exactly the same shoe.

And Husband, old vs. new:
























Although these shoes are useless for distance running, they have plenty of life left, and with a good washing (and de-stinking) look pretty decent, so I'll pass them on to a local program that gives them to kids who need gym shoes.

Eating local can eat it

I give up. It's been only two and a half weeks, but I yield.

When my friend AP first mentioned trying to eat locally (within 100 miles of where she lived), I thought she was crazy. But then I read all those books and it seemed like a fun adventure! so we signed up (mentally, at least) for the Eat Local Challenge, choosing the forgiving goal of eating local for every 4 out of 5 foods for 1 month.

And it was fun! Our concept of what we could eat locally exploded. We hit multiple farmer's markets, ate fabulous local produce, and we were amazed by the number of regular meals we could adapt without much trouble. We discovered locally processed and/or grown pasta and flours, plums and berries and the season's first apples, split peas and dried beans... even as I write this it sounds so easy... I mean, you've got honey and maple syrup and all the wheat and dairy in the world!

But lo, it is not so easy. Ultimately we were brought down by:
1. Time. Although late summer is a great time, produce-wise, to eat local, it is also a terrible time, schedule-wise. Our weeknights are nearly full, so we'd grocery shop on our lunch hour and then come home at 8:30 and start cooking... and cleaning, washing up sinkfuls of pots and pans.

2. Feeling like we were cheating all the time. My co-op is generous with the "local" label, affixing it to nearly anything in the tri-state area... and some products that are merely locally owned... which is good, but does that count? We made an exception for dining out, which sounded reasonable until it's a coffee here and brunch there and then dinner here, and is that what eating local really looks like? And what about beverages? Is farmer-to-farmer, locally roasted coffee OK? Even milk (and other dairy products) had me wondering where the cows really lived.

When a few unusually stressful weeks at work left me tossing and turning at night and running around panic busy during the day, I realized that now is maybe not a great time to take on a task like this.

So we gave up, and even though we're not eating all that much less locally, I feel so much better not having to think about food all the time. Eating local is something we'll continue to aspire to and value, but for now, it will have to be in moderation.

Insider gu

According to a reliable source, police have been frequenting local running stores to stock up on gu to use while working protest detail at the RNC.

Monthly book post: August

Boy do I have some good books for your this month!

I was told there'd be cake by Sloane Crosley. I kept not wanting to read this book because it's a series of essays, but whenever I picked it up I laughed out loud and couldn't put it down. Crosley is a brilliant essayist, equal to the hard hitters of the genre and her stories of single life in NYC (which bear no similarly to Sex and the City) have earned the attention of HBO, which bought it for a new series.

Moose: Tales from Fat Camp by Stephanie Klein. If you always wanted to know what those fat camps advertised in the back of Seventeen magazine were like, Klein has the answer. My favorite part was last third of the book, when Klein talks about what life is like post-fat camp, how she was able to shed the pounds but not the identity of being a fat camp champ.

Plenty: One man, one woman, and one raucous year of eating locally by Alisa Smith and J.B. MacKinnon. If you're interested in eating locally, I found this book to be a more practical how-to than Barbara Kingsolver's, even though neither live in the Midwest and therefore address what it's like to eat locally here. Smith and MacKinnon are extremely hardcore about it; you'll never take wheat for granted again!

Other reads:
Certain girls by Jennifer Weiner. I was loving this book until the last few chapters.
Sleeping Arrangements by Madeline Wickham
The geography of bliss : one grump's search for the happiest places in the world by Eric Weiner
The spring cleaning murders by Dorothy Cannell. English murder mysteries help pass time on planes and ferries.

Show us your...

It has become the thing to do for women of my generation: head to Nordstrom's and be fitted for a bra. A girl's first bra fitting (or however she got her first bra... I think my mom just brought some home) is a legendary event, I don't think any of us ever envisioned there'd be this second pilgrimage. Yet cautioned by Oprah and Glamour about how many women wear the wrong size, and uncomfortable/unflattering that can be, I finally joined my sisters and invited a woman about my age to come into my dressing room and check out my rack.

While I did not find out (shock!) that I was in the wrong size, I was thrilled to have some service in finding bras. My normal shopping experience goes like this: find cute bras, check for my size (which they make) but is not there, find bras in my size but they are padded which I do not like, find racks and racks of bras that do not come in my size, start to feel very unloved and woe-is-me and I-do-not-belong-here, and ultimately buy a new version of the exact same bra I have because it's all I can find. In fact, I'd had the same experience wandering around Nordstrom that day before I got the courage to ask someone to check me out.

But hark! The efficient saleswoman came back with an armload of bras in my size that I do not already own and that are not padded! Hurrah! Never again will I wander around woebegone. Now I'll always avail myself of expert service, reigning like a queen from my dressing room as they deftly select from the collection they know so well.

Trip planning

The art of trip planning is one that is intensely personal. Do you like to have your restaurant reservations booked in advance? Do you feel burdened by plans and expectations? Husband and I try to strike a balance, researching enough to know that we're not missing out on something amazing but arriving with some ideas of things we'd like to do. We've also learned a few things about ourselves, namely, that we do not like uncertainty--we'll gladly pay the campground reservation fee, even if it doesn't seem likely to fill up, and we like to be early for things like planes and ferries and the like.

Here's a short list of resources we usually consult:

Frommers.com is a great place to start, because it's free and gives a good overview. It's good for making the big decisions, like "Do I want to stay on this island or that one?"

From there, guidebooks always provide a good overview, although I approach them with a bit of skepticism. Rough Guides tend to be my favorite, followed by the Hidden series and Lonely Planet.

My favorite source is the New York Times, which archives an extensive library of travel articles. Their "36 hours in ____" is always a good feature, although I certainly never aspire to abide by their ambitious itineraries.

Lastly, my most invaluable source is blogs. I read a lot of bloggers from the Pacific Northwest, so for our latest trip I was inspired by the advice of Orangette, Not Martha, Tea and Cookies, and ShelTerrific. Don't read any local blogs? Search on blog search engines to stumble upon some unwitting reviews.