The Velvet Ropes in the Theatre of My Life: Boundaries

I grew up in New York City--land of noise, constant stimulation, non-stop entertainment.

There's a seeming chaos in The City, to the uninitiated. But New York has it's rules, it's order, things that make it negotiable to those who stick around long enough to learn what they are. It's easy to feel overwhelmed if you don't do like the New Yorkers. And one thing New Yorkers do well is lines (queues, in Brit-speak). Lines tell you where to go, and also where you cannot go. This can be very comforting in a hectic environment. Look for the line in a crowd and you can find the way into a popular eatery, or the source of the music, or...

When I was about 8 years old, my grandmother took me and my younger brother to Radio City Music Hall. It was grand--huge, ornate, imposing. The line snaked around the block, defined by heavy red velvet ropes, suspended from brass posts. As we stood in the line, making our way closer to the entrance that would signal our transition from Outsiders to the Privileged Few, I watched people and read posters for future shows. Slowly I realized that I was being watched in return. Passersby would scan the faces in the line, looking for something. Maybe they were jealous, maybe they wanted to take the afternoon to watch the Rockettes and Song of the South (yes! That was the show!) instead of having to hustle off to their next appointment. I am not sure, but I saw that, even behind the velvet ropes, even before walking through the grand entrance, that I was already "other".

The line somehow gave me space, set me apart. I am sure someone has done a study of the science of lines and crowd behaviour, but I can tell you from my little-girl observations that boundaries give us space to see where we stand. If we embrace them, they can define our space, give us breathing room and create order. I am a person who needs a certain amount of order in my life, so I guess it's time I looked at the boundaries I do and don't have in my life.

Because I have been overwhelmed recently.

I can only imagine where I would be if I were not nourishing myself well. As it is I have not had the energy or desire to write. It has taken all of my resources to do the daily tasks and to focus on my family. We have had a variety of our children and grandchildren here, at one point last week numbering eleven people between our two boats. Neither boat is huge, so it's natural that--with everyone cheek by jowl--we have had some frayed nerves. The stress of writing my thesis loomed large on top of it all.

A selection of us took an overnight trip to Victoria last week, a lovely two days in our charming neighbor city across the Strait. The outing was organized by our homeschool group, which provided for a tour bus, a hotel, and various attractions. It was a wholly different experience than we had previously had, exploring the town on foot between the morning and evening ferries. If you ever visit Victoria I highly recommend the Castle and the Miniature Museum--both were charming and great fun. I can't say enough about how beautiful this very European-feeling city is! We are really so very lucky to live in a small town with a world-class city ninety minutes away by water...

I did get a migraine while away, a stark reminder of where I used to be. I was not able to treat it the way I would at home, but did the best I could with the tools I had with me. I think that something in my lunch that day contained hidden MSG, judging from the unpleasant reaction I had. My older daughters collected the makings for ginger tea with honey and lemon from the restaurant at the hotel and the dim sum place where they ate dinner. They fixed in the the room's coffee pot--such resourceful kids! We made an ice pack out of a plastic bag, which I ended up sleeping with. I survived, but I am so glad that such an experience is now rare for me.

Back to the Velvet Ropes (aka Boundaries): I tend to be a very giving person, wanting to help wherever I can. Like most people with this tendency (mostly women, I think) I usually put myself last. I have variously been a teacher, cook/baker, midwife and health educator. And Mom. All of these are nurturing, even feminine, occupations, which are often also poorly paid. Many of you in caregiving roles (paid and unpaid) will recognize the tendency to give even when our personal resources are dwindling.

I lived like that for many years, first as a special education teacher in a residential facility, then in an unhappy marriage, and then as a single mom in midwifery school--finally happy but overextended. It seems I have always had boundary issues. In all of the drama surrounding my divorce, my dad (The Shrink, which he is) reminded me that "you never have to drink the soup as hot as it's served." Which is to say that I am ultimately in charge. I can respond in a situation, as opposed to reacting. I know this, but do not always live it (but The Captain is always ready to hold up a mirror for me, to gently remind me that just because someone says something doesn't necessarily make it true. Deep breath in.....now drop the shoulders....)

Even when the stressor is a good thing, as in visiting family, weddings, babies, etc, we can neglect ourselves in a way that leads to resentment, a lack of flexibility, an impaired ability to handle the varying needs and circumstances. It makes me in particular crochety, edgy, almost prickly.  I gather I haven't been much fun to live with recently.

I am trying to do some "selfish" things, to restore balance. I opted out of cooking dinner yesterday, instead shutting myself into my personal space for some quiet time. I also spent a while poking around in one of the local antique/junk shops yesterday afternoon--and found a few treasures! Today I go do laundry, not a glorious job, but it is time alone, so I'll take it gladly. And, after talking with my advisor, I think I will delay my thesis until this storm passes.

Still, I struggle with this issue. I want to be a giver, but I realize that I have to be full myself to do that. The last few weeks I have also been reaching out to a few friends who really empathize, who are solid and supportive of what I am processing. They also act as mirrors, giving me their perspectives while not allowing me to wallow (too much). I truly appreciate these wonderful people who have taken the time to listen as I said the same thing over and over, seeking a deeper understanding with each conversation. You know who you are, so please accept my hugs and loving appreciation.

Writing may be erratic this summer. I wish it were otherwise, as the writing does feed me as well as you all, but it's another little "selfishness" I need to embrace. I will write as I am moved, as I have things to share. I hope that will be several times a week, but if it's not, I know you will understand that I am taking care of myself and my family.  That I am welcoming and installing very elegant velvet ropes in my life so that I will know where I stand. The theatre of my life is non-stop, but sometimes I am backstage, sometimes I am in the audience, and only sometimes will I be front and center. Thanks for joining me as I define those roles!

Do boundaries serve you well in your life? Do you wish you had more or fewer?

Just a Quick Post...

A full day, but mostly I did laundry--a huge task when you are hauling 5 (now 6) people's clothes and a household full of linens up to the car in a dock cart, which makes me look like a tinker with a hand cart making my way up the ramp.

Four huge washers full, and three hours later, after errands and ferrying kids, I rushed home to make a late-ish dinner from the whole salmon I had thawed really because it was hogging so much room in the freezer. I wish I had taken pictures, but it's always like that when you are in a hurry, no?

The salmon, with tail but minus the head, was about 6-8 pounds worth, way too much for our dinner, so I cut it basically in half, baking the tail end stuffed with herbs, and turned the center portion into gravlax.  I made a salad and some snow peas with browned ghee (a happy accident) and we had an elegant meal.

And now, I am so tired. I am off to bed, as the birthday tomorrow will demand much from us. Much love from the drizzly Northwest...

Sane Travel and a Most Perfect Fruit

Gorgeous lychee fruits

So here I am, with my new computer cord (Thank you Apple! My computer is waaay out of warranty, but they didn't skip a beat in getting a manager to comp the cord, a $70 gift...) and therefore the ability to write, but.....well, I am sort of out of the habit. That's sort of how I feel about Intro now too. I have lost the thread. Oh, I am eating totally GAPS, and avoiding things like the bread, nuts and fruit. But I somehow don't feel connected to the process, and I certainly don't feel as connected to the group. I enjoyed the break from so much computer time, but I can see it left me something of a "vox clamantis in deserto" ("the voice of one crying in the wilderness").

I suppose I will just summarize what's been going on this last week. And try to tease whatever messages are there out for me, for us.

Miss Blondina and I journeyed to Seattle last Thursday morning, both to the the Broadway musical Mary Poppins (fabulous!) and to our friends' home, where the daughter was hosting my girlie and her cousin for a birthday sleepover celebration. I packed enough cooked food for the journey--chicken soup, a country pate, cheese and yoghurt (Blondie's), ginger tea--and the makings for a lavish meal to share with our friends. We feasted on braised grass-fed roast, asparagus, acorn squash and a cucumber salad, and everyone but me had my home-canned apricots for dessert. The duck eggs that I brought were for breakfast (asparagus omelets!), and there was plenty for my drive home.

In fact, it was such a successful trip food-wise that it made me wonder why I would ever eat out. I never got sick or developed a migraine, despite many hours spent at a mall looking for jeans (why does no one make attractive jeans for a curvy woman who is not a teenager? I left without the jeans.) Normally, a migraine would almost be a given after countless hours in stores that are too loud, too bright and filled with noxious scents (intentional, like candles and "air fresheners",  and others like shoe glues and other chemicals in the products). Even though I drove home much later than I had intended, and ate my dinner waiting for the ferry, I ended up at home in pretty good shape.

There was a time, when The Bosun was actively racing his sailing pram, that we traveled to regattas with a Crock-Pot plugged into an inverter in the car. We would arrive at our hotel with dinner ready, needing only a salad. We could eat well, even without a kitchen, using a cooler and the slow cooker. This last trip makes me want to re-institute that set-up, or at least to invest in some more great stainless steel thermal bottles, as the two I have were in constant use with the soup and ginger tea.

Weekends are always busy, but we spent the last one getting ready for the arrivals of two of our kids. The Scientist, our oldest daughter, drove across the country in record time, dog and four-year old in tow, showing up Sunday night to a warm, but short, welcome--everyone was exhausted and soon settled down, knowing we have two months to visit. Yesterday, we picked the Writer up at the big airport (yes, that means we have driven to Seattle a crazy amount of times this week, as the Captain has gone twice to drive his parents to and from the airport). Sigh. Now we can rest for a bit. Except that it's The Professional's birthday this weekend. And the Juan de Fuca Festival. And....

Lucky for me, my kids are all superb cooks. That will make this busy summer easier, what with all of the comings and goings of our nine kids (and two grandkids), who will all visit at some point over the next few months. The Writer took dinner in hand tonight--without my asking!--turning out an absolutely amazing pot of oxtails that looked like they were made of burnished mahogany. Add in some pureed cauliflower and a salad, and of course our huge family, and we had a lovely evening. We topped it off with a bag of fresh lychees that the Writer picked in Coconut Grove, near my parents' home, and presented to us along with a bag of mangoes.

Thanks to Baden's insightful post from the other day, I happily partook of the lychees, willing the guilt to sit in the corner. Lychees are one of those amazing ephemeral fruits that don't travel well, are never sold in stores, and are limited to a very short season. The flavor is perfumy, almost floral, and there is a ritual to the peeling and eating that keeps it all in balance. Instead of gorging on a huge amount of fruit, I sat and savored the experience, so rare and special it is. And it seems to have worked--I have no headache or heartburn, despite eating fruit before its formal introduction (this is the second such lapse, and the first did not go well, so I am indeed surprised).

Perhaps cultivating not only balance, but also finding gratitude and pleasure in our moments of "cheating" or making exceptions or whatever you want to call it, perhaps that is what makes the difference. Perhaps our attitude about the treat can predict the outcome. I know that if I feel guilty or stressed, or like I am succumbing to a craving, then I end up feeling poorly in the end. Whether that's from the cheat food or from my emotional state, I may never be really clear. Still, the lychees were a treat I embraced and so far my body seems to be embracing the treat! Not a statistically meaningful experiment, but maybe a tiny bit of insight to add into the mix.

I hope you have had a lovely week while I was away from my computer! Did you have any great insights you would like to share in the comments? They are always welcome and do help other people, so please do join the conversation....

Advance and Retreat

I am typing this with my thumbs on my phone, my comPuter having given up for now. I suppose, because I type reeeeeaaaallly slowly this way, that I will not be saying too much of substance until I resolve this issue. That probably will be on Friday, when I am in Seattle. I am missing writing daily and can Only hope you will bear with me.

Today was a successful "out and about day". Tu and I and several kids were off on an adventure--and we navigated being out and food shopping with no meltdowns (neither kid nor adult!) We both had thermoses of soup, Tu had squash simmered in broth, and I had a country pate I made a couple of days ago. Add in water and Ginger tea and we ate so well that no "treats" demanded our attention. Yay for that!

We also spent a while talking to a friend with Lyme disease about using GAPS to heal fromthe heavy antibiotics his naturopath has prescribed. Just yesterday I was reading about that in Dr. Natasha's FAQs. (I have found it useful to reread them regularly, as certain things only sink in after repetition). We were daydreaming as group about setting up an Intro Retreat to help others get started.

What do you think? Would that be a useful enterprise?

The Pleasure of New, Devil's Club and Sock Animals

Let's change our course a bit today. It's Spring, sunny and clear. The birds are happy. The marina is buzzing with activity. Even the air seems new and fresh. Everyone now comments that it may indeed be Summer one day (most people were not so sure last week).

And, I seem to have weirded out my audience with the pig head photos. My apology to those of you with sensitive stomachs; I have stated before that I do not, which can render me a bit tone deaf when it comes to the discomfort of others. So let's take a day for light conversation, as my acknowledgment that some of you were sort of put off by graphic pork porn.

That's a vegetable? Yes! it's a Spring Devil's Club shoot.

Continuing the investigations into all things Local + Seasonal, the editorial staff has decided to do a little review of Devil's Club Shoots, having acquired some at our lovely farmer's market over the weekend. Thanks to Preston of Wild West for finally allowing us to take home enough for the family (more on that in a few moments).

What's that you say? Devil's Club is evil? Armed and dangerous? It's truly the Devil's Spawn? As a sometime hiker, I would have to agree with you there. The huge thickets of spiny plants that confront adventurers on the Olympic Peninsula are intimidating enough, but they pale in comparison to photos I have seen from Alaska. I wanted to show you one of these (amazing, scary, gorgeous) shots, but they seem to all be copyrighted, so you get to Google it yourself--or come visit!

As with many other things in life, though, the looks are just the start of the thing. We have to be more open-minded, or we will end up avoiding some of the most delicious foods, the most helpful medicines, and many interesting experiences. I remember hating beets growing up. Which is truly silly, because I had never tasted them. At the time, new was scary. Later, introduced to beets as a young adult in France, new was exciting, fresh, sophisticated.  This has repeated itself many times over in my life, and is a principle I try to teach my kids. Amazing things lurk in unassuming packages. Devil's club is a perfect example, as both a unique food and with powerful medicinal qualities, including the ability to balance blood sugar.

Always game for something new, we finally brought home a small paper bag-full of the fascinating-looking spring shoots (if you look at some of the online photos you'll see why I bought my first taste of this Spring treat.) Preston was hesitant to let us take so much. At first I thought that was due to having a limited quantity, hard-won at that (really, go look at the photos!) After a few minutes of back-and-forth discussions, I gathered that the real reason he was hesitant is an oft-repeated (but I am not sure ever substantiated) notion that the shoots are somehow "energizing", possibly even euphoria-inducing. I have seen a few comments online to the effect that the bark of the plant is stimulating--mildly so, not like, say coffee. But I have seen nothing that would lead me to believe that the shoots are anything but good eating.

Now that's what I mean by fresh and local!

Which, of course, they are. I sauteed some onion and leek, added the blanched devil's club shoots, and seasoned simply with salt, pepper and a bit of lemon rind. (Many wild greens profit from quick blanching to remove bitterness, though I am fond of bitter, and sometimes to remove strong chemicals that can be irritating. I don't know what about devil's club requires blanching, but I was following recommendations I had read--something I try to do, at least the first time I make a recipe!)

They were a marvelous accompaniment to grilled steak, resembling asparagus tips in appearance and the piney woods in taste. Actually, the first bites were pleasantly resinous, with a faint citrus aroma (before the lemon peel, that's why I added it), but the flavor mellowed as the meal continued. I am not sure if that is due to my acclimation or a change in flavor as the dish changed temperature or "ripened" somehow.

I had the leftovers with eggs the next morning--my favorite  breakfast is greens and eggs (a big thank you to Dr. Natasha, who started me on that path some years ago!) That might be an odd idea for some of you, but having veggies for breakfast, with eggs and/or meat, keeps my blood sugar stable, is delicious and keeps me satisfied for many hours. Try it!

Now, devil's club might not be on your Spring menu, I understand that. But how about real Spring asparagus? Not the year-round woody thing sold at supermarkets, but the Real Deal, found at farmer's markets and in gardens countrywide this time of year. And morels. And things I have already mentioned: nettles and dandelions, chickweed and miner's lettuce. What about Spring lamb? Did you know that lamb has a season? Most of our foods do, but we have become so separated from those rhythms that most of us would be hard pressed to identify the proper season for those foods. Mostly we now see this cycle as one of annoyance: the strawberries we can buy in January lack flavor, there are fewer pastured eggs available during the winter, and the local raw milk supply might dwindle. There are good reasons for all of that, ones we would do well to respect. Instead, we (as a culture)buy the inferior factory foods and gripe.

It doesn't really need to be that way. We can recover the joy of each food, each season, if we limit ourselves to what is fresh and local. Yes, we can have a more joyful eating experience by eating a more limited diet. The way this works is that we eat only what is at it's peak, what is freshest and most lovely in the moment. We can gorge ourselves on tiny June strawberries, knowing that this is the berry in it's perfection. And then we won't see them for another year, a small loss, but with the great anticipation it sets up for the coming return next year. If we treat each food this way, with the restraint and respect to only indulge when it is as close to perfect as can be found, then true pleasure--and health-- await us.

I don't want to belabor the point. If you want a thorough exploration, there is none more eloquent and entertaining than Animal, Vegetable, Miracle by Barbara Kingsolver. If you haven't read it, that's a great place to start delving deeper into the world of local food, and it even has recipes (and a section on turkey breeding so hilarious I almost wet my pants reading it aloud to The Captain...)

Penguin and (unfinished) Platypus went into a bar...

A totally unrelated tidbit about kid's birthday presents:
(Spoiler Alert for my friend the public defender: contains photo and description of your daughter's birthday present. Don't. Say. A. Word.)
Blondina and I went shopping for her friend's birthday present. I thought we'd find something quickly and move on to our other errands. Instead, I had a child near tears, claiming that I always choose the presents, and that I don't like anything she picks out (yup, Large Commercially Produced Plastic Things, or things way beyond the budget are out of the question). I am a pain about kids' presents. I think they should be books or art supplies, if they are not handmade gifts from the heart.

While Blondina worked out her feelings about her ogre mother,  I sat and looked at the books I was interested in (for me, not for gifts). Eventually, she came back to where I was sitting (in a Very Cosy Chair) and glanced at the book in my lap. That's all it took. We had to buy the book. And then we went on an expedition to gather some of the makings of the adorable stuffed sock lovies in the book--socks, buttons, stuffing. We made a bag using this tutorial for a no-sew t-shirt bag. And we made a critter, loosely inspired by the book, to put in it.

How's that for a solution? A book, craft supplies and something homemade. The perfect gift! And the kids are all in love. Now I have to get a copy for us, because last night was a frenzy of searching for old socks wanting to be transformed into new friends.

While talking about making sock animals might be a digression from my regular topics, I want to point out that it's totally in concert with my general goals and ideals: it fosters independence and responsibility, is creative, it's homegrown, it creates joy and community. I would even say that making things by hand even contributes to good health--by reducing consumerism, slowing the pace of life down, and concentrating on something real, with or without friends and family to join in.

Here's to more new things in all of our lives!

What new things are you thinking of trying, either a food or new endeavor? Have you made something wonderful lately you would like to share?

Beasts, Mythical and Edible

Not a mythical beast, but Mr. Chippy checking out the pig head

 (By the way, Blogger was down for quite a while yesterday, and at about the same time, my computer cord decided to stop charging my computer. So I went to bed without writing--my apologies, again! This morning, after talking with an Apple Genius, I got it working. Gonna be getting myself to an Apple store in Seattle next week....)

I could do a whole post on this, but I just want to mention that die-off can be beastly. A vicious beast, at that.

I have had odd moments of it, making me less than fun to live with--as grouchy, tired, unfocused are all symptoms that I have been experiencing. They are such vague effects that it can be hard to pinpoint the cause. So die-off it is. My friend who is just five days into Intro is having the triple whammy dance with the Beast. She is doing Intro with her 5 year old daughter, and the nursling came along for the ride. And it's not been fun so far (is it ever?) I can offer lots of platitudes ("it's only temporary" "these are signs of healing" "many people have the same experience") but while it's all true, that doesn't quell the nausea. Check out her blog and offer whatever advice you've got, because a community makes this all more bearable, don't you think?

I promised you a post on headcheese, so let's get to it!

First of all, I do know that people often hesitate--or even blanch--at the thought of something like headcheese. I am not sure why that is, because some of the same people will happily eat bologna or Spam or hot-dogs. What do you think goes into lunch meats? A bunch of bits and pieces; if you are lucky they are from the same animal. We have forgotten to value offal or "the nasty bits", but we still eat them--often employing the "look the other way" approach (also known as "what I don't know won't bother me" method). If reminded, we do our best "grossed-out" teen imitation. But we still eat hot-dogs (what does "all-beef" mean, anyway? Does that say which parts are in the mix? Nope, didn't think so.)

My biggest pot is still not big enough. Luckily the lid fit over the snout

Headcheese--which is not cheese at all--is one of the best examples of culinary thrift around. It uses parts that are either thrown away, incorporated into pet food or luncheon meats. The whole head is cooked until the meat is falling-apart tender, then cooled. All of the edible bits are chopped and mixed with the gelatinous broth, then set in a large pan in the refrigerator. Pretty much everything except for the bone is edible: the meat, fat, glands, skin, and so on.

Not much to dispose of!

I was literally given a number of pig heads in the Autumn, when a local farmer butchered her pigs. We bought a half pig for our freezer, but none of her customers wanted the heads, trotters or livers. I now have all of that in a freezer locker at the local custom butcher. This is the third batch of food I have made from that amazing storehouse of fresh local food, most of which was a gift (I paid for the livers, which will become pate and liverwurst). Every time I make headcheese (also called brawn or souse) I glean about 15 pounds of food for my family. Did you grasp that? Fifteen pounds of food that costs only my labor.

Spring(ing) Ahead! And Shrimp...

Hoo boy! It seems that about a month into serious change many of us get kind of cocky, thinking we've got it a down pat, and therefore start improvising/changing/neglecting the base of what we started out to do. With the GAPS Intro diet that a group of us are doing, and several are blogging about, many are finding this to be true. It's not the overwhelming feeling of the first few days. Instead, we have gotten comfortable, almost in a rut, and tend to either stop there (" 'cause I'm feelin' so great now!"), or add new things too quickly ("I haven't reacted to anything so far, so I'll speed this up a bit..")

And then we find out why it's a good idea to always be slow and methodical when implementing radical change. Boom. Die off, or overwhelm, or reactions from something we can't identify because we added 3 foods in 2 days. So, back to the place where we last felt great, and move forward slooooowly. If I were to start a new exercise program I would do the same thing: work up to my ultimate goal methodically. It only makes sense to allow ourselves to grow into change.

I had another migraine yesterday. Migraines suck, but I learn a lot if I slow down enough to hear their message. I really think these are being caused by tense jaw muscles, despite what my dentist last said. I spent hours during the night focusing on relaxing them and that seemed to help. I am trying to make a new habit, so I will just keep reminding myself, gently, to release the muscles. I know that I will have to be especially kind when I catch myself clenching my jaws--something that started when my bridge was replaced 3 years ago. It seems that I should just be able to stop such an unnecessary and damaging action, but I just find myself doing it--and by then my head is aching.

There were some other possible triggers (including going into Goodwill, where the smell was really strong yesterday), and they do layer, making it more likely that I will react. But the muscular pattern of the headache was the same as the clenching (until the headache settled in my right eyeball for a few hours. I am pretty sure eyeballs are not involved in jaw clenching.)

By late morning I was eating, mostly recovered and had things to do... I stayed home and fairly quiet (no kids!), but did work on a couple of projects, including headcheese, which I will write about tomorrow. This, despite the fact that our mechanics were busy working on the engines, rattling the pans and cups hanging in the galley with their efforts to get them started. Hard to concentrate with that noise and diesel fumes, but the work was mostly physical and easy.

In the late afternoon a neighbor alerted us to a shrimp boat with wares to sell. Yum, the first prawns of the season! The Captain headed over with a bucket and some cash, returning with four pounds of active crustaceans. Chippy really wanted to make the acquaintance of a prawn! He loves it when we have oysters, because he always gets to eat any muscle or flesh clinging to, and to lick the juices out of, the top shells. Blondina also will catch tiny fish for him to eat fresh, so he knows and loves seafood. Why should shrimp be any different?

Of course, when face-to-face, the situation is a little different! Those prawns are armed! (See photo at top of page.) They sport what appears to be a bayonet where the rest of us have noses. Yikes. Chippy was a bit disturbed, even when I gave him one of his own to eat. It's still sitting in his dish, four hours later. Somehow, I think the cat is not impressed by the eating quality of this particular bit of seafood... The rest of us, though, ate every bit, simply boiled and served with seasoned homemade mayonnaise and a fresh salad (which I started eating in the last few days.) 

I love Spring meals! So easy to prepare, the flavors are sparkling, the food is so fresh and nourishing. It is a lovely thing indeed to be able to eat such wonderful food, full of life, and to know that it is healing as well. No suffering, at least as far as meals go, just joy and pleasure.

Baden and a couple of the other bloggers have found that daily blogging is becoming difficult, something I have also been noting. I have never written daily before, and while I really enjoy it, I am finding that sometimes it conflicts with living and the other work I need to do: caring for my family, preparing foods for the winter, working on my thesis. I am going to try to write on the weekdays and take weekends off to see if that's a better rhythm for my life. If you have particular issues you would like me to address, note it in the comments or send me an email. I have a couple of such posts in the works already, and I'd love to do more.


Happy Day!

Any stumbling blocks you have noted in your life? Have you found a solution that works?