Not a lot has been happening this week. The list has become a bit stagnated. I guess I could get to work on some of the less exciting ones (fixing towel racks and drains and backing up files), but how boring.
I have done some work towards some goals… kind of. I ordered seeds for my Organic Garden—which has since been modified to my organic container garden since we probably won’t be moving to a house any time soon. I’ll be planting arugula, corn, peppers, strawberries and tomatoes. We’ll see if they make it to bear fruit. I have gotten some of my containers lined up, but still need to figure out what to buy for some of the bigger plants.
Two of my goals regarding teaching may actually be assignments in my class. I have to do 10 lesson plans with a unit theme, and I am considering either doing creative nonfiction (number 7) or finding a book I would want to do a unit on (number 83). Neither would be complete until May, but each lesson plan will be a step toward the goal where I am killing multiple birds with one stone—a goal, an assignment, a future usable plan.
I’ll likely be doing some baking that will fill in at least one goal this weekend, and I’ve written a thank you so I could write about that as well. February is almost here so I’ll have to find another hike and another new recipe to try.
In short, it may be kind of quiet around here, but I’m always working towards my 100 to dos!
Thursday, January 25, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Word of the Week: hodaddy
This word caught my eye, and the definition wasn't at all what I expected. I've never heard this before, and the dictionary does call it slang, so I don't know how useable it will be in building my vocabulary, but it was too fun to pass up.
Hodaddy: (n) one who engages in the sport of surfing or, esp., one who spends much time on beaches with surfers for vicarious excitement: also hodad plural: hodaddies
Interesting. I guess you could have called me a hodaddy when I took this picture at the North Shore in Oahu:
Sunday, January 21, 2007
#6 Write A Letter Instead of An Email
Everyone loves to get mail, or at least I know I do. So, one of my goals was to make sure I sat down and wrote a letter. It’s a small gesture and not that exciting, but it reminded me of those days before I could just hop on a computer and jot a few lines to someone thousands of miles away.
Perhaps it’s the writer in me, but there’s something different between typing and actually writing. An email, no matter what it might hold, has a certain detachment to it. I’m sure I’ve written heartfelt emails with tons of emotion poured in, but it doesn’t feel the same as your hand cramping up after four pages of writing. There’s a physical connection with writing a letter, it’s something you can touch and see some personality shine through. A smiley face in an email can’t really compare to a persons handwriting or signature.
The letter I wrote wasn’t anything special. It was to one of my friends who lives on the East Coast. We talk usually once every week or two, so it’s not as though I hadn’t talked to her in a while. When I talked to her after the letter was sent, but before she had received it, I probably talked about many of the things I had already included in the letter. However, I think a person is more likely to bare their soul on a piece of paper rather than over the phone or in an email. There’s something more tangible about that letter.
I think I will end up writing more letters as a result. Most of my friends do not live in the area, and with many our only contact is in Facebook comments or random three line emails. It would be nice to exchange something more, something with more connection.
Perhaps it’s the writer in me, but there’s something different between typing and actually writing. An email, no matter what it might hold, has a certain detachment to it. I’m sure I’ve written heartfelt emails with tons of emotion poured in, but it doesn’t feel the same as your hand cramping up after four pages of writing. There’s a physical connection with writing a letter, it’s something you can touch and see some personality shine through. A smiley face in an email can’t really compare to a persons handwriting or signature.
The letter I wrote wasn’t anything special. It was to one of my friends who lives on the East Coast. We talk usually once every week or two, so it’s not as though I hadn’t talked to her in a while. When I talked to her after the letter was sent, but before she had received it, I probably talked about many of the things I had already included in the letter. However, I think a person is more likely to bare their soul on a piece of paper rather than over the phone or in an email. There’s something more tangible about that letter.
I think I will end up writing more letters as a result. Most of my friends do not live in the area, and with many our only contact is in Facebook comments or random three line emails. It would be nice to exchange something more, something with more connection.
Wednesday, January 17, 2007
#70: Try a New Recipe Each Month: January
I’ve actually tried out quite a few new recipes this month. Without school, or subbing to do, I had a lot of time to be around the house—which means cooking! I am going to share only one recipe, because I don’t know where the others are and, really, the outcome wasn’t anything to share. However, this recipe was a hit with The Boyfriend, and I thought it was quite tasty too. It added a nice variety to our chicken based diet.
I found the basis of the recipe at Allrecipes.com, but made a few adjustments based on comments and what I had to work with.
Spicy Lemon Pork
2 Tbsp. Olive Oil
4 pork loin chops
¼ c. lemon juice
3 cloves of garlic (garlic powder works in a pinch)
½ tsp. Paprika
¼ tsp cayenne pepper (Very spicy!)
½ tsp. Thyme
Heat olive oil in large pan. Brown chops 5 minutes on each side. Mix all seasoning and juice together and pour directly over chops in pan. Cover, let simmer 20 minutes. If liquid remains after twenty minute, remove chops and reduce liquid for 5 minutes. (If no liquid left, chops are ready!) Place chops back in pan and coat in reduced mixture.
Again, I forget to photographically capture this little dish. I get too excited about eating and thoughts of pictures fly out my mind. The original recipe called for more cayenne pepper and I thought the pork was way too spicy, so I cut it down.
I also worked a *teensy* bit on one of the novels I need to finish, so we're seeing bits of progress here and there. I'm also planning my organic (container) garden and hopefully will be ready to buy seeds in the next few weeks. So far, so good in 2007!
Monday, January 15, 2007
Word of the Week: concomitant
Todays word is brought to you by the SAT. I tutor kids in test prep, and this word showed up last week. I had no idea what it meant. Even after looking it up, I am not sure I totally get how to use this word.
Concomitant: adj. existing or occurring with something else, often in a lesser way; accompanying; concurrent
I'm not really sure how else I could use this in a sentence except the way the dictionary shows:
an event and its concomitant circumstances.
Could a sidekick, for example, be concomitant? Not sure. Nevertheless, I now have an idea of what the word means if it ever pops up on practice SATs or ACTs.
Concomitant: adj. existing or occurring with something else, often in a lesser way; accompanying; concurrent
I'm not really sure how else I could use this in a sentence except the way the dictionary shows:
an event and its concomitant circumstances.
Could a sidekick, for example, be concomitant? Not sure. Nevertheless, I now have an idea of what the word means if it ever pops up on practice SATs or ACTs.
Friday, January 12, 2007
#9 Read This Organic Life
I wanted to read This Organic Life: Confessions of a Suburban Homesteader for a variety of reasons. First, it was mentioned in a book by Barbara Kingsolver and second, because as I become more aware of the issue, I am becoming more interested in eating locally and growing my own food. This book promised information on both.
It took only about three or four days to read the book—since I did not get called to sub the past two, I had plenty of time to devote to reading. I can’t say this book changed me or gave me passion the way a Barbara Kingsolver essay might, it had a softer grace, prompting memories I had forgotten and bolstering a sense that, over the course of time, I can aspire to producing some of what I eat and eating locally with a majority of the rest.
What I really love about this book is Gussow’s praise and support of farmers. I have always, always felt a certain kinship to farmers; I find few landscapes more beautiful than a farm. Perhaps it was the majority of my first ten years being spent in Iowa, perhaps it is simply in the genes as my paternal grandparents grew up on farms. I used to dream of finding a nice farmer to marry (it’s looking like I’ll have to settle for a police officer) and set my first completed novel on a farm in Iowa. I suppose I can’t help but share Gussow’s eagerness in supporting those that give us food.
This past November, I visited Hawaii with my family. Hawaii is amazingly beautiful and breathtaking and I was jealous to see all sorts of fruit trees in the backyards of even the most ramshackle houses. It wasn’t until I read Gussow’s book that I even began to remember that fruit trees could be grown in the Midwest just as in our tropic neighbors. Gussow talks about a peach tree, raspberry and blueberry bushes/vines, even a kiwi vine.
And suddenly I remember the apple tree at the old farmhouse owned by my Grandfather. And, even more vividly, a row of fruit trees my maternal grandparents had in their rural “yard.” I know there were cherry trees for a time, and I remember the grape vine lining my grandfather’s vegetable garden (which included strawberries, melons, pumpkins, rhubarb, and countless other things I cannot remember), and a few other fruit trees I don’t remember, but I vividly remember the plum tree. My sister and I visited my grandparents often—usually for around a week so my parents could have a vacation and so could we. My grandparent’s home was a rural paradise of creeks to follow, trees to climb and wildflowers to hunt. This particular time we visited, plums happened to be ripe. I hadn’t ever really had a plum before; I was and am a very picky eater. But, I tried this plum that I had picked with my own two hands and it was delicious. I remember devouring these plums, my Grandma commenting on how much I liked them. When I returned home, wherever that happened to be at the time, my Mom bought plums since I had enjoyed them so much.
I remember having one and thinking what happened? I must have gotten a bad one because it tasted nothing like that delectable little treat I had had at Grandma’s. I tried another with the same result. I never thought much about this incident. I have a habit of gorging on food I like until I no longer like them, but as I read Gussow’s book, another thought came to mind. The plums my Mom had bought at the store had come from who knows where, those plums I had eaten at Grandma’s were fresh, locally produced, sun warmed and inherently delicious. The “jet-lagged” plums from the store couldn’t compare. If anything could prompt me to eat locally, this memory is incentive enough.
I spent last night wading through articles on container vegetable gardening (I live in an apartment and likely will for at least another year+) as well as local farms, markets, and places to get local produce. I even looked a little into the CSA, though at this point the bank account won’t support that lump sum of money. I am ready to start, but I am also a creature of habit and used to convenience, as are most Americans. It is going to take some time and a change in monetary funds to break this life-long habit, but I hope to gradually accomplish it.
One of my “100 Things” is to start an organic garden and eat something I produce, so I am going to attempt a container vegetable garden next month. I am thinking tomatoes, lettuce and maybe a pepper of some kind. I’ll have to start small, especially as I’ll likely move sometime this spring, but it will be a start. There had been some possibility about having a house/condo this summer, but it looks like it will be another apartment for us, so some of my hopes have to be reassessed a little, but from what I’ve ready, growing your own vegetables from containers is possible.
If you’re interested in knowing where your food comes from, why farmers are important, the joys of producing your own food, or just a touching, mellow memoir, I would readily recommend This Organic Life by Joan Dye Gussow.
It took only about three or four days to read the book—since I did not get called to sub the past two, I had plenty of time to devote to reading. I can’t say this book changed me or gave me passion the way a Barbara Kingsolver essay might, it had a softer grace, prompting memories I had forgotten and bolstering a sense that, over the course of time, I can aspire to producing some of what I eat and eating locally with a majority of the rest.
What I really love about this book is Gussow’s praise and support of farmers. I have always, always felt a certain kinship to farmers; I find few landscapes more beautiful than a farm. Perhaps it was the majority of my first ten years being spent in Iowa, perhaps it is simply in the genes as my paternal grandparents grew up on farms. I used to dream of finding a nice farmer to marry (it’s looking like I’ll have to settle for a police officer) and set my first completed novel on a farm in Iowa. I suppose I can’t help but share Gussow’s eagerness in supporting those that give us food.
This past November, I visited Hawaii with my family. Hawaii is amazingly beautiful and breathtaking and I was jealous to see all sorts of fruit trees in the backyards of even the most ramshackle houses. It wasn’t until I read Gussow’s book that I even began to remember that fruit trees could be grown in the Midwest just as in our tropic neighbors. Gussow talks about a peach tree, raspberry and blueberry bushes/vines, even a kiwi vine.
And suddenly I remember the apple tree at the old farmhouse owned by my Grandfather. And, even more vividly, a row of fruit trees my maternal grandparents had in their rural “yard.” I know there were cherry trees for a time, and I remember the grape vine lining my grandfather’s vegetable garden (which included strawberries, melons, pumpkins, rhubarb, and countless other things I cannot remember), and a few other fruit trees I don’t remember, but I vividly remember the plum tree. My sister and I visited my grandparents often—usually for around a week so my parents could have a vacation and so could we. My grandparent’s home was a rural paradise of creeks to follow, trees to climb and wildflowers to hunt. This particular time we visited, plums happened to be ripe. I hadn’t ever really had a plum before; I was and am a very picky eater. But, I tried this plum that I had picked with my own two hands and it was delicious. I remember devouring these plums, my Grandma commenting on how much I liked them. When I returned home, wherever that happened to be at the time, my Mom bought plums since I had enjoyed them so much.
I remember having one and thinking what happened? I must have gotten a bad one because it tasted nothing like that delectable little treat I had had at Grandma’s. I tried another with the same result. I never thought much about this incident. I have a habit of gorging on food I like until I no longer like them, but as I read Gussow’s book, another thought came to mind. The plums my Mom had bought at the store had come from who knows where, those plums I had eaten at Grandma’s were fresh, locally produced, sun warmed and inherently delicious. The “jet-lagged” plums from the store couldn’t compare. If anything could prompt me to eat locally, this memory is incentive enough.
I spent last night wading through articles on container vegetable gardening (I live in an apartment and likely will for at least another year+) as well as local farms, markets, and places to get local produce. I even looked a little into the CSA, though at this point the bank account won’t support that lump sum of money. I am ready to start, but I am also a creature of habit and used to convenience, as are most Americans. It is going to take some time and a change in monetary funds to break this life-long habit, but I hope to gradually accomplish it.
One of my “100 Things” is to start an organic garden and eat something I produce, so I am going to attempt a container vegetable garden next month. I am thinking tomatoes, lettuce and maybe a pepper of some kind. I’ll have to start small, especially as I’ll likely move sometime this spring, but it will be a start. There had been some possibility about having a house/condo this summer, but it looks like it will be another apartment for us, so some of my hopes have to be reassessed a little, but from what I’ve ready, growing your own vegetables from containers is possible.
If you’re interested in knowing where your food comes from, why farmers are important, the joys of producing your own food, or just a touching, mellow memoir, I would readily recommend This Organic Life by Joan Dye Gussow.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
#31 Create My Own Recipe
I have debated with myself over whether or not this really counts, but in the end I determined that it does. I consulted some other recipes for this particular product, but none really fit what I felt what went into it. So, therefore, this is my own recipe… as inspired by Happy Joe’s amazingly delicious Taco Pizza and a few Internet recipes.
Nicole’s Attempt At Taco Pizza
Ingredients
(The amount is up to the creator, based on what you prefer)
-½-1 lb. Ground beef
-taco seasoning
-pizza crust (store bought or homemade)
-refried beans (small can)
-8oz pizza sauce
-shredded cheese (you can really choose, I used “taco blend” from Hautly, quite tasty, -cheddar or mozzarella would also work)
-chopped up iceberg lettuce
-tomato chopped (optional)
-crushed up yellow corn tortilla chips
-taco sauce or sour cream (optional)
Directions
Brown ground beef, and follow directions on taco seasoning packet. Spread a thin layer of refried beans on the pizza crust. Add taco seasoned beef, and pizza sauce (don’t overuse the pizza sauce, it takes away flavor from the meat). Sprinkle most of the cheese over the beef and sauce, but reserve about a handful of cheese. Bake in a 400 degree oven 8-10 minutes, or until cheese is melted and bubbly. Sprinkle lettuce on top, and the rest of the cheese. Sprinkle tomatoes across pizza. Cover pizza with crushed corn tortilla chips. Put back into oven for 2-4 minutes. Let cool for a minute or two, and then cut into pizza sliced.
I prefer the pizza as is, but some enjoy taco sauce or sour cream as a condiment for the pizza. Use at your discretion.
Nicole’s Attempt At Taco Pizza
Ingredients
(The amount is up to the creator, based on what you prefer)
-½-1 lb. Ground beef
-taco seasoning
-pizza crust (store bought or homemade)
-refried beans (small can)
-8oz pizza sauce
-shredded cheese (you can really choose, I used “taco blend” from Hautly, quite tasty, -cheddar or mozzarella would also work)
-chopped up iceberg lettuce
-tomato chopped (optional)
-crushed up yellow corn tortilla chips
-taco sauce or sour cream (optional)
Directions
Brown ground beef, and follow directions on taco seasoning packet. Spread a thin layer of refried beans on the pizza crust. Add taco seasoned beef, and pizza sauce (don’t overuse the pizza sauce, it takes away flavor from the meat). Sprinkle most of the cheese over the beef and sauce, but reserve about a handful of cheese. Bake in a 400 degree oven 8-10 minutes, or until cheese is melted and bubbly. Sprinkle lettuce on top, and the rest of the cheese. Sprinkle tomatoes across pizza. Cover pizza with crushed corn tortilla chips. Put back into oven for 2-4 minutes. Let cool for a minute or two, and then cut into pizza sliced.
I prefer the pizza as is, but some enjoy taco sauce or sour cream as a condiment for the pizza. Use at your discretion.
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