Sunday, January 25, 2015
Lately
This week I wrote about pomelos.
Your drunk aunt was right: the hot toddy is the cure to the common cold.
All of my issues with the Goodnight Moon bedroom. I might have snorted. But I still love Goodnight Moon.
This 86-year-old woman just lives on a cruise ship, because she's figure it all out.
I want to have a mac + cheese party. With the requisite adorable Staub cocottes, obviously.
Thandie Newton’s “Embracing otherness, embracing myself” via The Basic Goods
Dust bunnies.
Head shots of hand models.
Benevolent sexism. via Design Mom
Sunday, January 18, 2015
Lately
I wrote about napa cabbage and the best ways to use leftover chili.
Watch these parents talk to their kids about sex for the first time.
How I learned to fall asleep in under 1 minute.
4 ways to tell if the voice in your head is worth listening to.
I was just talking about setting a goal of having people over at least once a month, so I am very impressed by the goal of having 52 dinner parties this year.
People posing with statues. Mom and Greg, time to up your game. via Shutterbean
The case for having just one child.
Thursday, January 15, 2015
I love my new microwave
What's that you say? This isn't a picture of a microwave? You're right of course, I don't actually own one. And I don't long for one either (which isn't to say that I don't marvel at the speed of heating up leftovers when using one at a friend's house).
As the name "butter warmer" suggests, this is a small pot. I knew it was small from oogling it in photos over at Food52 (yes, my love began in a purely superficial manner, but it has since grown into something true), but even still, when I pulled it from its box, my first thought was: "Wow, this is really small. Am I actually going to use this? I love dipping silky smooth artichoke leaves in butter, but how often will I need melt butter for that?" But I'm finding that I'm using this new little beauty all. the. time. -- for a number of microwave-esque tasks and more: reheating coffee, making hot cocoa, cooking oatmeal, reheating dollops of soup too small to be considered "a cup," but too good to not consider saving. (This is said soup.)
My second thought was slight disappointment that the enamel was already chipped near the handle, even though my rational side is well aware that enameled products can chip and still work perfectly well. I can easily veer into perfectionist territory -- wanting things to be just so (and fixing them if they're not -- other people reorganized an already loaded dishwasher, right?), wanting dishes I cook to be executed perfectly (and overanalyzing why they are or aren't and what I would do to fix it the next time), wanting my thoughts to be expressed perfectly through my words (and running them over and over again in my head to figure out whether or not I succeed in my goal, even after I've already said the words or sent the email).
But for some reason I just did not want to return this pot and exchange it for a "perfect" one. For one thing, my husband and my daughter got it for me. He is my number one supporter in all of my kitchen adventures -- gushing over the successes, and gamely eating the failures that I deem only worthy for the trash can. I just didn't want to swap his gift for one that appeared to be more perfect. And for another, I felt it was a little sign, just for me, as a reminder to ease up on a drive for perfection.
Image via Cotton Bureau
See, I'm taking Rob Bell's e-course, a Practical Guide to Finding Joy and Meaning in Everyday Life, and in the latest lesson, we had an assignment to pick an object. Something that when we look at it would instantly remind us that we're all a part of something bigger than ourselves. Rob Bell says: "Your heart is where you pick up on what matters -- and what doesn't."
And a misguided drive for perceived perfection, well, that's one of those things that just doesn't matter. As my friend Hannah describes it, I too am "An aspiring good enough-ist." And I'm already succeeding. Last night I made a spectacularly mediocre dinner -- a vegetarian loaf and lumpy, gluey mashed potatoes -- and I laughed. I didn't try and create an action item list of things to change the next time, and I didn't start to question my prowess in the kitchen. I just thought it was funny.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Lately
I've been writing about fresh rosemary, buddha's hand, fresh turmeric, and the 7 fruits to eat more of in January.
Resolve to write more this year.
Something small, every day.
How to ask for what you want -- and get it.
Some day I'm going to have a pet jellyfish.
Monastic Stays. Yes, please #1.
Feeling like you need to do some closet purging? I love this #PassTheBag campaign.
The 16 best times Stephen Colbert broke character. via Go Fug Yourself
Santa, the Tooth Fairy, and Wonder.
11 questions that will make your child happier.
Why I took my 7 year old to a tattoo parlor. via Design Mom
Why women need more sleep than men. via Design Mom
What stories do you tell yourself that no longer serve you? via Shutterbean
Saturday, January 3, 2015
Week 52
DONE! One year of getting rid of something every week. I don't plan to keep it up as strictly this year, but the habit is now solidly set in my brain, and I know I'll continue to purge on a semi-regular basis. New Year's resolution success.
The items, backstory, and method of expulsion: I purged a few items in anticipation of Christmas (e.g. I knew I was getting tank tops, so I set a couple of tank tops aside), and then after Christmas, we purged a lot. One big bag of clothes set aside for the spring clothing swap, and one big bag of clothes to donate.
Monetary impact: $0
YTD monetary impact: $469.13
The items, backstory, and method of expulsion: I purged a few items in anticipation of Christmas (e.g. I knew I was getting tank tops, so I set a couple of tank tops aside), and then after Christmas, we purged a lot. One big bag of clothes set aside for the spring clothing swap, and one big bag of clothes to donate.
Monetary impact: $0
YTD monetary impact: $469.13
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)