Quick Quesadilla Snack

I make these quesadillas after we've used up the normal burrito ingredients, or just when I get home from work, it's a quick delish snack.

Today I had quite a day at work, and it's getting chilly outside- I needed a warm, spicy pick-me-up! 

Africa Fashion Week, day 4, Sat. Finale.

Waking up. Strangely quiet.

Check phone. Message from model, already at store waiting for hair and make up. Not even awake yet. Five minutes to get ready. What happened to the alarm? Not even enough time to find out. 

Brush teeth pick outfit and leave. Texting and walking. Walk/rushing.

...

Arrive at store, no model. This was the same model no one actually asked to do this show, and no one denied her either. Apparently. Check phone. Message, " went to my car cause its cold". Ok. 

...

Open the store and set up for the make up artist to do hair and make up on a few  before call time. The model came back, rather annoyingly toting a large project she's working on actively. Suddenly the make up artist arrived and took orders from people, "are you hungry what do you need?". She left. Came back an hour later. My heart pounds, she pours me a mimosa, and slides me a chocolate bar. 

Melt into a calm. What it feels like to let things roll, while they're rollin'. 

...

Everyone red lipped and tipped, and onward to the show! The museum expected us, we think we are running slightly behind but then we arrived and it felt like we were early.

A strange contentedness and comfort eased through the room as a murmur of models and make up and hair mixed with  clangs of chairs and accessories. Shoes scuffle and people shuffle and the beat of it pulses you in all directions fluidly. Checking this that its chaotic but everything was moving along. Progress kept coming in odd tides. For hours we planned jewelry, fixed hair, found models, dressed them, explained all we knew and  learned it all over again- along with the additions and changes. The strange curve of the "green"room held more than the usual number of people than the  green room of a theatre show in a small town. This was a large group to fuse creativity so graciously. Several times when in the way, 'sweetie' and 'honey' come after 'excuse me'. Only in the south.

...

Someone shouts "45minutes till show!"

And pace picked up as if no one had been doing anything before. Bobby pins flew. Assistants ran, squeezed, jumped.  Our designer wanted coffee. Ran. Saw the gift bags sitting in the VIP rows. Our flyers hiding inside. Coffee bar closed, redirected, no coffee. Fine. Bottled water. Paid with a $5. Got three different coins back. Designer neither noticed nor minded.

...

Models looked more frantic and beautiful than ever. It became easier to point out our models as they donned our garments. 

The accessories were so African, we needed to add an edge to our girls. Gold cuffs and hammered necklace, each one had an accented spark of yellow gleaming off their black and red get-ups.

Our designer who was worried about it distracting from our pieces, turned around. Delighted, she coo'd until we were sending models down a runway. 

After they each turned and walked up and down, had taken enough snap pics to represent our line. Then she walked with her line down and back. Except for a moment I thought she wasn't  coming back. 

...

Stuck for a long moment in time, felt like perhaps someone asked time to freeze. She stood, backed by eight, six foot tall women, in front of a line of flashing photographers. Eventually the model ushered her back to earth, and they walked back. I saw her soaking in the limelight, the walk back she looked like she had just been named queen. She waved, arms outstretched and waving, the way presidents do; people grabbing her hands as she walked. I snapped more pictures. 

...

Some extra mid show chaos hit me like a big wave from behind- the kind that knocks your glasses off, and for the first time on vacation, it feels like you've lost hope and replaced it with confusion and eagerness to regain control, organization? Understanding. There was beautiful creations and visions trying to be presented perfectly, and overall it was ok. What is a green room without the mess. It's Upstairs, Downstairs- revisited. Instead of social order, it's still all about grand presentation and form and etiquette, but it's about art, and line and form. And style. 

...

 I grabbed a model for a photographer, he asked not to let her change. She was in the best dress, the one people were trying to buy, models vying to wear. She earned herself a solo photo shoot at a huge museum for running with me. Thank that model too. 

...

At the end we had waited an extra hour just to send two looks back down the runway at the flood walk, which was chaotic but quick once it happened. Then things looked again reminiscent of a theater green room. People packing their costumes and accessories, just ready o go. We had all been there hours no food, no drinks but a water fountain.

The designer wanted to leave, dismissed interns. And stuck around just long enough to hug and thank the Doctor, and some smiling thank you's rang out as we rolled our clothing to the elevator at the parking garage. Floor 3, breakdown rack into trunk. Drive. Home. Exhausted. 

The designer thanked me and dropped me at home. We would both have to be at work in the morning. The runway may end but the show must go on!

...

 

I'm so happy I got to style these ladies, and make hairpieces for the runway!
Eat, breathe, sleep, create.

Africa Fashion Week, day 3, Friday.

Sore, tired, not able to react to the alarm, and sleeping in. Wake up with 20 minutes to leave for work. Stayed up too late talking out our money problem the night before mixed with the fact that it had gotten much colder had kept all the restful dreams away. Feels like dozing off 30 times in a row. But in the middle I fighting the start of the day, the day texted me again, not out of bed yet.

...

This time a work issue, outside of the fashion show. But directly effecting the money issues, from the stolen rent case, and this bothered me. Because it was laced with subtexts that read of- or I read them to be- disrespect, and selfishness or  naïvety ?   Misunderstandings. Unhappiness, annoyed-ness, now filled more than one employee of the store, with two more bigger events hours away.

This is now everyone's problem, who works there as far as weekly shifts. Sigh, can't we all be on the same team? Work where your leader sees you as helping the most? Not everyone sees life the same way, try to focus. Fashion media mixer tonight, what to wear?

...

The intern came in to work a little after myself. Phone call from the designer, making plans. Prepare two pieces to be shown and be ready to mix and mingle with press, cameras, and the like minded fashionistas that'll be throughout the room. 

...

The designer steps into the store, she goes over the plan several times. Who's driving who, where is the bar. Her and I agree to meet the intern there. Walked to the designer'a car, put the clothes in the trunk. See the other manager and catch up receiving momentos of good wishes.

We drive. Pick up my boyfriend and head out, about a 45 minute drive north, plus 15 minutes of traffic and still perfectly on time, we park and settle in. Headache sets in as the designer begs for attention there isn't energy left to give. Boyfriend orders a gin and tonic, and a glass of wine. Cheers. Sip. Chardonnay. Better.

Smile. Finally, a drink at the event while working. Only we are actually early. The original email from the head honcho said be there at 6. But surrounded by models and only having one out of the two we were expecting, everyone waits. Models get made up, the host shows up.

...

This man is wonderful, he infused both earlier days with some much needed casual smiles and laughing as much as instruction and speeches. He is head of fashion- basically- at the Art Institute. I gave him our card and flyer, he gave me his card. I loved him, and if he liked anything, he'd say with some southern eccentricity, "Oh, I Loove it," Usually punctuated with, "Honey!"

He had earned the title of Doctor, and now proudly wore that doctorate all up in his signature bow tie. Best dressed man in Atlanta. Honey. 

...

The showcase of our two pre-view pieces was about to start. Let the frazzled intern find my glass of Chardonnay, with two sips in the bottom. 

Order myself another. 

Our model asks around for extra models but none are found. The music blares as the Doctor announces our lines one by one, and as the first girl gets back, beg her to jump into the extra dress. She flings her zipper down and the next two models assist in dressing her. Send her out in time. She saved the first model from having to change and go out of sequence. Saved our preview show. 

...

Pictures snapped on phones all night until in the car driving away. Proof of the party. The drive home was a buzz of conversation, needing to vamp up the line before the next nights show. Fears of being shown up in the designer, not held by all. A calm confidence rose over the rest of us. Maybe we wanted to hear her that engulfed in this fashion week. Maybe we were too close to turn, too fast to stop and too excited to sleep. Because upon arriving home, again bedtime was around 3 am. The finale in the morning. Hair for the finale, early. Before being able to rest the mind reviews the next day, the plan. The extra things that will happen and all the bumps in the road to look out for.

...

Before crashing, post a couple photos. Send a couple thanks. 

Set alarm for 10 am. 

...

 

Africa Fashion Week, day 2, Thursday.

Although fashion week was supposed to enter the blog nightly after each event, that simply did not happen. My plan was to use the time before bed to put photos online, and blog about the night, thinking this would preserve details and capture moods, but instead this being my first fashion week, it's taught me the hard way why they call three nights and one rehearsal a 'week'. Thus my retelling will probably give you a more squished together story. 

I had been in theater so much of my life that each "show" I do no matter what scale or slant, I get the "theatre" feeling. A week before the finale show (which featured our store's designs) I was preparing in my usual "hell week" mode. It's where you kick everything up a gear, more coffee and the list of things to do each day need to get done and not pushed off, for each day things are being  communicated, planned and changed and this only increases the more you procrastinate.

So I had us ready as you can read in the rehearsal story from earlier. But after that day, more and more like a snowball, came rolling at me picking up more details every morning, noon and night. 

Here is what happened after arriving home after the rehearsal at the museum. 

....

Posting...and posted, thumbs pecking away, like feeding chickens, at the keys on touch screen. Picture after picture needed to be cropped, saved and shared. Tagged, posted, sent. And occasionally: moved, rearranged, emailed, pinned, and all the regular extra things these phones do. 

This would last until 3am. Bedtime. 

...

The next morning, the same phone which was staying awake last night with a bright screen glowing in a dim room, now buzzed in the sunshine. This wasn't the alarm, it was a string of texts, asking where who and what, and "can you forward this," and "message me asap".

This was because later we would be going to a small student fashion show, being seen, and watching our designer judge the competition over an externship at a cut& sew company. Ugh. Not even out of bed. 

...

Boyfriend opens the front door, and a letter falls to the floor that was stuck in. It's from the leasing manager, about our stolen $600 rent. And how the residents are still required to make up the rent that was stolen. Know we don't have it. Not even dressed yet. 

...

Phone rings, unfortunate timing- about to put on pants. It's the designer, asking about details for tonight, and all week.

...

"I emailed you the details..." I started. 

"Oh, I know, I read it, yeah." She stated.

"So, did it all make sense then?"

"Yeah it did. Now, where is this at again?" She asked but this means she didn't read it. 

"I attached a map in the email but its real close to my house, I can walk. But you need to be there early they said." 

"Well, what time are we supposed to be there?" She sounded suddenly panicked like a lost child. I held her hand, 

" I think they said at five, but the fashion show starts at 8, so ill be there at 8, ok?"

"Okay," she said, "I'll just go print off the email." 

...

Didn't need to be at work, but needed to see things to know how to see some extra finishing touches and hair clips to match. So, at work on my day off, for Fashion, remind myself. Meet the intern soon. Hurry, remind myself. 

...

A powder blue mustang convertible pulled up. The 18 year old intern, driving barefoot waves from behind the wheel. 

She is a little late, but the venue was on the same street. 

We found parking in the grass and quickly she swapped shoes, a la Cinderella, and we ran to the ball. 

Inside they send us down the runway which was a hallway, opening into a room surrounded by chairs, people, we hug a wall as the music starts. Oops, the model was sorta waiting to start, oh well. 

They begin to come down the hall, and collection after collection caught rounds of applause interrupted by flashes of cameras, and the stretching of arms with camera phones. No one really spoke, except for one or two nearly silent likes and 'ooh's. The fabulous host announced each designer, he made the DJ play music for us to dance to, he escorted judges and brought them back with a decision. A unanimous result, where the first designer won. Her line a stark foil to all the other colorful, fall and amber tones. Her work was detailed, complex, striking black and white sharp and sculpted. All agreed she deserved it, and mixed and mingled for a few minutes before the mustang departed the ball.

...

At home about 9:30pm. My boyfriend was just leaving for practice. Spent the entire time he was away just posting and sending photos again. And again. Before long he was coming home and it was 2am. Talking between lovers can last hours late at night. We hit the bed around  4am, thinking about work the next morning. And then the media mixer that night.

...

Africa Fashion Week Day 1: Wednesday.

Wake up, late, to a phone call from the designer. Answering tens of questions that were just answered seven hours ago through emails sent before bed. 

...

Hardly any groceries: spaghetti breakfast. Well technically two bites of banana bread was breakfast, so spaghetti can be "lunch" a few minutes later. Along with an iced coffee. 

...

Walked to work, began arranging clothing for fashion show-phonecall- from the designer on her way, placing a pick-up order for the fashion showpieces; to go. Car loaded, drive to the High.

...

Park where we know to, take the elevator, which leads to the main entrance. At which point people are staring at the designer, the clothing you and your very out of place lot, looking like a rolling pop-up-shop with a purpose. 

Inside, security tells where to check the rack and clothes, and signs us in, with visitor stickers which allow us to wander the museum, she said. 50 minutes till rehearsal begins, see some art.

...

All the paintings we frantically pass, slowing at ones that lean our direction; we search for the Girl. The Girl with the pearl. Earring. 

She is only out of the Dutch Museum and in town for about another month, but this was an unexpected free pass, to see a painting from four centuries ago. On we searched. Remind the coffee minded the teen intern this is the only chance in life to see this painting, for all of us. Remind the rich designer not to touch the sculptures, and art, and displays. 

Ask security where to find the Girl with the pearl. 25 minutes till rehearsal. 

...

The elevator doors open revealing a huge wall sized image of the girl, as in "we put all our money into this huge sign" which must be why there aren't any signs on other floors directing us here. 

We make our way through this exhibit in a frenzy, probably to a point of offense- to an art lover. Wanting to stop at each frame and soak in the beauty until it's burned permanently into your retinal memory- but having no time, no proper time at all to inspect one element of design, or spec of paint.

We see her, walking up to her is like walking up to a queen. Framed in layers of gold and lit strategically to shine brightest in the small room. Vermeer's brush strokes inches from our faces. Stunned for a quiet moment, we just stood in a row, in awe. The 1600's woman looked back at us, relaxed. Just as she did to the thousands of other peasants she has reigned over before. 10 minutes till rehearsal- depart for coffee and rehearsal, still gossiping the Girl. 

...

Coffee and a brownie, and a bit of leering over the models collecting on the opposite corner of the room. 

We finish our snack.

...

 4:00 sharp. Rehearsal. Join the ranks to be greeted by the coordinator of the show, waiting. Chatting. Then, we all continue downstairs. 

...

Models are chosen, everyone is organized and we re-collect upstairs. 

Models begin walking and we wait to see which ones we claimed walk best, which are tallest. What to wear. They spent most of our time telling models how not to walk, how they are walking, and then also how to walk. And we watched them walk and walk again. Then we reconvened below for fittings.

...

Aside from picking models and communicating to plus 40 people, fittings are the most chaotic and horrible, dealing with impatient models who are shared with other designers. Girls frantically rippig garments on and off as if they owned them. Remaining focused inside- on what to show, where to tuck, what to pin and photograph it so it's set. Getting models for Fridays media mixer,

And their phone numbers. It's never been so easy for me to get a strange pretty girls number in my life.  And also might be the only time I see the Girl in my life. 

...

Eating bits of chocolate driving back across town to the store to drop off the rack. The designer drops the items at the store and leaves. Set the clothing aside and leave, locking the door of the small dingy store, on a dreary rainy wednesday. Think of all of that art waiting, all of the paintings, they're calling out from their still life frames. And the Girl with the Pearl earring, wondering if she'll ever see me staring back at her again. 

August free-flow- thought poem

I've been brewin', stewin' over spewin' out all these crazy thoughts onto a page when I have no time to think of adequate rhymes, for the few wandering eyes that may happen to identify with the moral craze I phrase. 

Here's an example: 

Nearly going from going negative to being the only positive face, and watching the money get replaced as I make haste and less waste. 

But still the weekends ahead promise to be a competitive thread of artists and dreamers, I wait to behold the story untold but I fear for me and my peers.

We may get lost in this journey down the road of chaos- and still we tread on. 

At 2a.m. a reminder of war, floods the brain with guilt- how does one go on?

The entire scheme of daily life is meaningless when I picture my brother's wife in those pictures... 

Before he goes away I want to free him,

I want to steal him for myself and let him go, let him fail, let him fly, but let him live without touching those lies. Without having to defend a system of debates which are currently running on fuels of hate- and fear. 

It's too much to hear-

When you're far away and your loved ones are never near, to imagine they might only be here another few years.

That the people you know are only what you remember them as, and it's as if everyone is dead, undead, living in another "state"... Sending strange messages and still we'd debate. 

But they're never here and I'm never there so no matter how much I care they won't hear these things, I swear.

Not unaware, just unprepared. 

So they say, you never know how deep you care, until you are assaulted by fear and despair. Then you are molested by a world obsessed with what to buy and what to wear and you're forced to care for your share- though what else do they know? The whole word seems unfair, to all of us who care. 

A Milestone For Each Brother

I wanted to see my family. It felt like a year since I'd seen them last. It may not have been, but it felt like it. 

I always feel like its "right back to where you left," every time I'm home. Not just the landscape that is changing more slowly than the city I live in, but also because it feels like hugs open and close time warps between the conversations you get to have with loved ones. 

My father and brother picked us up from the train, after we had been traveling for 24 hrs, to arrive here, in a field in Elburn. 

I was glad to see them, since they both shared their birthday, which was the next day. They looked a year older and wiser alright, especially if wiser is short for wisecracker. 

We drove to their house, on a farm. Had tacos and bonded before the next day would shake us around and pass us through all our extended relatives arms and back again. 

Which it did, the day of their birthday(s) was a hectic busy blessing of a visit. Where every moment fills you with thoughts of preserving this, now. And this now, and this, and it all makes you smile. 

We saw lots of relatives and had lots of good food and played games and had a fire. My brother turned 16, father:47. 

We woke up the next day knowing we had to soon say goodbyes. They say parting is sweet sorrow, but it feels like these visits are short parties, followed by hurried 'morrows. Full of bittersweet goodbyes where time is borrowed. 

We drove to my mothers house, where we had a half day to prepare for my brothers wedding. Though a small affair, nerves bundle just the same. We unwound by a fire, the second one of the journey, and we ate and talked- for what else is precious enough to spend time doing?

The morning of the wedding started with the bride preparing for her big day, where her formal address changes forever, and her promise will be bound by ceremony. 

I spent the afternoon getting ready with the groom, and our mother. Since I was to stand in the ceremony and she was to read, we were a bit frantic. Her more then me. 

The small gathering of family watched as the young couple vowed their love till death, and kissed. Then we took a hundred formal photos.

Then, we went to a small local restaurant, and everyone enjoyed their food, we all celebrated together at one table, spread with three generations. I took lots of pictures, mentally and digitally. 

I then was also the escort for the after party, where drinks were had among my brother, and new sister's, friends. I say escort, because I drove them home. A task I am delighted to perform for my brother... Since it was his wedding night!

The next morning was a very early good bye, then drive to the train. My mother drove us, and I never feel like I'd had enough time with her, and then as she drove away, yelling goodbyes as she leaves I began to feel like I didn't get enough time with anyone. 

Then, we had to get on the train. While traveling you just want to get there- wherever there is going to be. But once you're back from being there, you miss it more, every time. It gets more important and somehow more hurried every time. I hope that soon, maybe next time, visiting will not have a countdown clock. Though it makes you appreciate things deeply, it's never enough. 

The great adventure...

Well, where do I start? In the midst of what feels like total chaos, there is the calm of knowing you'll soon be on a bus for 18 hours, free to think about it all. 

I'm finally done preparing the headpiece and veil and gift for my brothers wedding.  Bittersweet, between thinking this is for my brother's bride ...and ...so he can join the military.  Sweetbitter, more like. 

I also followed a huge story today with live feed from Egypt. Their entire country pretty much protested the Muslim Brotherhood out of existence, an overthrew a corrupted official, in the name of democracy and non-violence. 

That was very cool, besides it's not every July 4th eve that you get to be instantly connected to such a patriotic revolution climaxing on the other side of the world. (Let alone getting to see live feeds from Egypt on any given day.) 

As I settle down tonight, my mind still reviewing all the details of packing your bag for a day long bus ride and four days of family, the computer clock and Facebook wall continually counts the seconds as they are posted and passed. Photos roll by and conversations are skimmed or missed, but I retain only the list of to-do's, and the promise of seeing family. 

Hard to think about much else than the journey when you're just sitting around waiting to start it. 

What am I going to do with myself for the first half of the day where I'll be free, knowing the future holds hours upon hours of being pinned to a funky seat on wheels?

Just try to dream, like I'm already there.

  

I'm gunna be cheesy now...

I'd like to tell my brother, particularly, 

But also all my siblings, and friends to go on their own adventure, as long as they promise to keep in touch with me, and as long as they keep their feet when they step onto the road, or there's no knowing were they might be swept off to.  ;)  

Below is another piece of Tolkien inspired advice, from The Hobbit (cartoon) in the from of a song. Think about the whole story the author tells after what he actually lived though, I find it helps you look at the big picture of your own journey. 

The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.
Today and tomorrow are yet to be said.
The chances, the changes are all yours to make.
The mold of your life is in your hands to break.

The greatest adventure is there if you're bold.
Let go of the moment that life makes you hold.
To measure the meaning can make you delay;
It's time you stop thinkin' and wasting the day.

The man who's a dreamer and never takes leave
Who thinks of a world that is just make-believe
Will never know passion, will never know pain.
Who sits by the window will one day see rain.

The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.
Today and tomorrow are yet to be said.
The chances, the changes are all yours to make.
The mold of your life is in your hands to break.

The greatest adventure is what lies ahead.

Some old woman's visit.

      

Well then. 

True Story, just one customer who came

in the retail store I work at in Atlanta. 

This strange, short figure swiftly appeared at my store's door, and in the blink of an eye, I greeted, "Hello..."

Stopping short of the usual "how are you?" as I truly got a look at her frail frame and old bones and gray hair. She clung to a pack of cigarettes and a lighter in one hand, and a shopping bag in the other. Her black feather boa floated over the rhinestone encrusted shoulders of her mid-thigh little black dress. An otherwise classy 80's dress, framed by wrinkly knees and elbows and feathers; she complained of arthritis in her legs. She slapped her shopping tote onto the counter, and limped, almost quickly though- toward the jewelry case. 

"How much are these pearls?" Her hand motioned vaguely, and I checked. 

"$68- but they are on sale.."

"Are they cultured?" She questioned.

"Yes."

She turned as if I'd answered wrongly,  going for her bag she said "Maybe later, oh! My legs...", 

She walked to the door so I said, with a smile, "Go rest your legs!"

 She turned her tired, feather framed face to me and countered my advice with,

"I'm gunna go get myself some whiskey!"

Taking Small Steps Forward

 Stuff happens, and then you clean  your house, but no one wants to hear about the smell of bleach staying in my nose. So this is what was accomplished beyond general cleaning.

This morning I woke up to my phone's voice-mail alert. I listened to it, and it was a problem with my credit card # on my transcript request. I called them back and got it straightened out. Then I paid my internet bill, and made breakfast! Wow, amazing for me, I'd say. At least for the morning.

Then I got a notice about my phone bill coming up soon and also how my cat needs a vet visit.
I keep thinking about that, and calling the college to schedule a test. But then I think about buying tickets for visiting my family, and how i need to send them all letters to help my charity fashion show.

That's where I wanted to start keeping track of those ideas on my blog. I have had a major change of plans and I need to be able to stick to it.
Originally  I was to host this benefit show using my work for the clothing, but plans quickly changed as she was unwilling to pay for any venue or budget. That's when I got clearance to go "solo" with it.
So now, I'm having a Charity Fashion Show to debut my line, and boost my Etsy company up a few notches!
I'm ready to focus more and more on that as a means of making my own way, I always feel like it's just within reach. And everyone else thinks it's going to be too hard to live off an online site as a designer while going to school. But when people say 'you can't' it makes you want to more.
I was looking into the options for either becoming an LLC or to file for "DBA" or "Doing Buisness As"
 both of which protect my personal assets as entirely separate from the business.  Example- I think- would be like if I owed tax money, then they couldn't  repo my belongings.
I have to look into it. And get to that list of things I need to do above.
But it's just to beautiful out! And I work tomorrow, but then I'm off until Sunday.
So I have time to get more done. And I will. :)

June? So soon? How does time move so strangely?

In the past few months I've been super busy and I've set up a plan now for the rest of the year. I am applying to GPC, a local community college, to get my English done. So, I thought it'd be soon that I'd pick up blogging again. I am also soon emerging as a fashion designer, but I'll expand on that later.
Right now I want to note how all things are at this turning point, I'm looking at buying tickets to visit my family before all our lives change. I'm not only talking about my own scholastic pursuits, but my parents all seem to have projects that are moving them forward in life- and I have a lot of parents, so I feel lucky to be able to record that about this moment. My younger brother also has plans, to join the Air Force, and thus a visit is in order. Before we all embark on different paths.
Keep your eyes open for more posts, I'll be blogging hopefully everyday/every other day.
(Someone text me and cuss me out  if I forget.)



Here are a few samples of the diamonds of our peaceful past, some of the gems that have been mined from the old laptop, and I'll continue mining very soon.

Cauliflower Soup, (for Homemade Soup Sunday!)

(Dear Mom) and any other readers
(my aunts, my friends)

We started a new schedule for our dinners every week. Here is Homemade Soup Sunday's Success Story-

It begins with a book. And in the book, there is a list of ingredients, and a ritual as I describe it below.
A yummy, tasty healthy ritual vegetable bath.


Happy, Healthy Homemade Soup Sunday. It made four servings, but we only had one each tonight and we had it with some Rosemary olive oil bread, which made it to DIE FOR!

You should try this recipe, it was quick and yummy, and filling!
Here is the book recipe I glanced off of to make mine:

Cream of Cauliflower Soup

Ingredients:

1 small cauliflower

salt and ground pepper

4tbsp/butter

1/4th cup plain flour

6tbsp single cream

1-2 egg yolks

1 tsbp chives

Method:

Trim the outer leaves off the cauliflower and steam it whole

in boiling salted water in a pan with a lid until tender.

Allow Cauliflower to cool, and reserve water. 

Melt the butter in a sauce pan and stir in flour.

 Gradually stir in cauliflower water made up to 3 3/4 cups with fresh water.

Reserve some of the florets for garnishing. 

Discard tougher stalks, and puree the rest in a blender, add to pan.

Beat the cream and egg yolks together, beat in some of the soup, and add to the pan.

Add the reserved florets. Heat do not boil, season and add chives. 

Enjoy with bread or toast!

Love and Soup to you all!

Good Soup and Prosper!

2013 Resolutions / New Beginnings

 So far, we are two weeks into the new year, just about. And I have resisted buying any new candy so far, I would say haven't had any candy except I had four or five pieces of PEZ we got for X-mas the other night.  But even though I work across the street from a convenience store, I've gone this whole year so far without buying or drinking soda or buying any candy or eating much of it either.
 One of my resolutions was to cut out soda and candy not because I need to loose 20 lbs, because I don't want to do that, but because I had gotten lazy about packing healthy lunches and was reliant on sodas and store bought coffee and candy to get me through workdays. At the end of the year I did feel a layer of M&M's and Sprite on my hips and belly, so I decided I was better off without them.  I am trying to be more careful about how much salt and sugar I take in, because I salt almost everything and I used to eat lots of candy...last year!

I need to get glasses but I'm not sure that counts as a resolution since I go and get it done once, and I don't have to work on it all year. Same with applying to college, I mean, buckling down during classes and working hard isn't a resolution, its a commitment. Applying isn't a resolution either, I just have to do it.
Being better about my priorities and not procrastinating though- that could be a resolution. Though I didn't list it, I think it's a good thing for me to think about.

I always feel like I need to clean more and get more done at home, and everyone I know wants to work out more but I do walk around a lot, though usually I don't break a sweat..  or people who want to practice their art more. So here are my resolutions now that you've heard that much:



1. No candy, or soda. Within reason. But none. +Use agave in coffee, not sugar.

2. Work out 3 times a week. Not counting walks to work and groceries and errands.

3. Clean my house more often and do dishes more often. Cook more often. Use all of kitchen more.

4. Practice singing and playing bass regularly. At least once a week, each.

5. Write more.   Draw more.  Sew more = Actually do what I want to do creatively.

6. Be more positive.

Might as well include the last one since it's been working so far for me this year. :)

Also in 2013, I have begun planning for a benefit to be hosted by my work, so that is going to be a very exciting adventure as I tackle being an assistant manager, and owner of an etsy shop, and freshman in college by the fall.

So that is my plan, to focus more on myself and bettering who I am, and also what I'm doing.
For myself and for others, so I  hope this year pans out in the fantasy-future like the one I have in my head.

Goodbye 2012, and good riddance!
Hello great and wonderful 2013.
Let the Friday the 13th Parties commence and mark your calendars for 11/12/13!