proper noun: sherlonya

So, one of the birthday goals is to read a biography of each US President. This goal came from writing a poem or two starring a few of our Presidents. Then someone asked me if I was going to write a poem about each US President. I thought that it sounded like a good challenge. The problem, however, was that I just didn’t know enough about them to write about them. And a project was born.

It turns out that there are a whole bunch of people doing a Presidential Reading Project of some sort.

So far, I have read about Presidents Lincoln, Polk, Clinton and Kennedy. I have started in on Presidents Adams (the father), Wilson and Madison.

Gretchen Rubin, the author of The Happiness Project, another book that I am reading right now wrote 40 Ways to Look at JFK, which I finished reading last night. Being of a generation that was not a direct witness to this personality and relies solely on the images that seem to be everywhere, my mind was blown by this bio. The presentation alone was interesting, reminding me that people all look different depending on how we look at them.  I’ll say this, I came away from that book seeing Kennedy as very human, as opposed to a sterile icon. This is actually most of the point of this particular goal. You see, the original poems that started it all were about those moments that these men had, which we don’t think about much. We think of them in terms of their jobs, what they represented, but hardly as people like us, people who did things like blow their noses and occasionally burn toast.

I have about eight months to complete this project. It is ambitious, but I feel sure that I can do it. Actually, I  hear President Madison calling right now.

You gotta love those slogans. Actually, my favorite one is, “Pork: the other white meat.” Seriously? But that’s neither  here nor there. Perhaps that slogan actually got into my brain somehow on a deeper level, the cheese one. Because today at Casa Turner|Augustine (Taugustine?), it was cheese day.

So, we made ricotta cheese this morning (goal 27!). Right there in our home kitchen. And I felt like Ma Ingalls again, and I spent a minute swooning over Michael Landon, because that happens every time I feel like Ma Ingalls. This time, I got so into it, that I felt like I should go face Mrs. Olson at the mercantile.Hey, I spent many childhood hours watching Little House on the Prairie on TNT.

Then, we went to Zingerman’s Creamery for a bit of a tour. Why  not. I mean, if we are beholding the power of cheese (and gelato), we might as well go the distance.

And the little guy even got sorbet out of the deal. I love my life.

So, I do these birthday goals.

The thing about year-long goal setting is that life can get in the way and then, unless you are diligent, you can lose sight of those goals. That general you really refers to me.

So, I’m checking in. When you set 31 goals, you sort of know that you won’t meet every single one of them, unless all you are doing is working toward those goals. Considering that have a bazillion other things that I like to do, not to mention those that I have to do, exclusive attention to goal-progress isn’t an option.

Well, so far, I’ve achieved 2/31 goals. (I made homemade horchata and I completed a half marathon).

I’ve got some work to do!

I’m supposed to try 31 new-to-me cocktails. This goal seemed really cute when I wrote it, but the truth is, I just don’t drink that many cocktails. A few  months slipped by and I hadn’t had any. So, I had to step up my game. I am at 9, which isn’t bad, but really, I have to stay on track. That isn’t something you want to leave off until the very last minute. That could get pretty ugly, pretty fast.  One goal is to try 100 new recipes. I don’t know quite where I am with that, which is the problem. I cook plenty. I also try new things plenty, but I have not been the best at keeping up with them. That leads into the goal of blogging more. Had I kept up with that, I would have better documentation of the recipes.

If I had to grade my efforts, I would give myself a C+. I am doing better than the average person who, say, sets goals on January 1 and  has forgotten about them by the time February rolls around. But I don’t see myself as doing THAT much better than that average person.

And if you know me, you know how I feel about average grades.

In 1939, Thanksgiving, which at that time was the last Thursday in November, was to fall very close to the end of the month. Folks in the retail world complained that with only three weeks for holiday shopping that sales would be crappy, not ideal for an already crappy economy. So, Roosevelt declared that Thanksgiving would happen that year on November 23 instead of November 30. However, he waited until August to make that announcement. Travel plans had already been made, football schedules had been long established established, et cetera. About half of the states observed Thanksgiving on the new day, half did not. Some folks, taking the opportunity to poke a bit of fun at the commander-in-chief called the day Franksgiving.

I do love presidential trivia.

I have a different problem that I face at this time of year. I love to cook and I love cooking “holiday” food. Not enough that I am going to roast a turkey in July, but enough that I have considered making holiday meals from other regions and cultures at the appropriate times that have no personal significance. So what is the problem with Thanksgiving? I visit Mom on Thanksgiving and there, I eat her mouthwatering vittles and come home with leftovers. Score! But, I’m not going to cook my own Thanksgiving spread when I know I am going to eat heartily at Mom’s.

Enter Franksgiving! For my purposes, Franksgiving=Thanksgiving dinner one week early.

So as you see in the bad picture taken by the dying camera, there were roasted turkey legs, homemade cranberry sauce (with pecans), cornbread dressing (with celery, onion, green pepper and onion), sweet potatoes (baked in spiced cider), mixed greens (with liberal quantities of onion and garlic brightened with lemon juice) and whole wheat macaroni (well, penne) with cheese.

Alex was interested only in the turkey and cranberry sauce. I was glad to see that he was interested in the turkey, as I was not. Sometimes, Alex and I like to eat like Jack Sprat and his wife, I guess.

Full bellies. Good times. No complaints.

I sit before my computer several hours after I ran my very first half marathon. In fact, a mere 14 hours ago, I was in the car, on my way to Detroit. The half marathon was the third road race in which I participated.

When it is just you and the road before you and a lot of miles, there is a lot to think about. Today I realized that one of the things that I like about running is that it is a time when I explicitly feel thankful. Especially when I am running in a race. I can’t tell you how many things I thought about today and felt thankful for. Like my health. Without my health, this accomplishment would have been impossible. When I run, I don’t take it for granted. I was grateful to have parents who allowed me to become who I am. Grateful to have the wonderful son that I have. Grateful for my job. And believe it or not, I had a moment when I felt grateful for my country. My country!! Now that, I have to admit, that’s something I regularly take for granted. But when I heard the national anthem followed by “Oh Canada” it made me think about what opportunities that being raised here, under the circumstances that I have been raised, have afforded me, the opportunities Alex will inherit. It feels good to me to think about those things and take the time to really feel grateful. Maybe I run to chase that feeling.

Now, if you know me well, you know that it would be insincere of me to pretend that I only thought these good, wholesome, grateful thoughts. There were plenty of not so great thoughts in there too. Not bad thoughts, but just observations. I spent a good quarter mile thinking about the woman in the brown pants who had liberally powdered her thong panties. How would I know that? I could see the powder outline through her pants. Then there was the woman with the “mission marathon” shirt. I was going to read the rest of the shirt, but much of the text was hidden as the shirt crept into her numerous rolls and folds. (Hey, I’m not dissing the rolls and folds, but seriously, next size up.) And then there are all the butts. When you’re running that long, you see a lot of them. And upon watching all of that bouncing and jiggling, and jangling and, I don’t know, kersplankering, I was grateful for the one I have. It is by no means perfect, but I decided today to stop hating on it. Maybe I ran to chase that feeling.

I was all set to write something that I observed today in my son’s classroom. I thought it was funny, and a cheap and easy way to make an blog post on a day when I’m tired an a bit uninspired (but still wanting to meet the goal of posting every day for a month).

Then, I thought twice about what I was going to say, and thought of something that Alex said recently:

“If I get it out to say it, I’m not going to say it. I’m going to put it back in my head.”

As parents, we all  have to make the decisions that seem right to us day after day, minute after minute. The last thing any parent needs is yet another person slinging judgment…even if it is just to make a little joke.

So, I declined.

My love affair with the beet is still in it’s honeymoon phase. I had never known, upon glancing at the pedestrian root vegetable that it could be so delicious. However, recently I came across a recipe for a beet salad that I knew I had to try. I modified the original recipe in a few minor ways. This recipe calls for pickles. I happened to have some homemade pickled peppers and some homemade pickled green beans, so I used these in the salad. Also, this recipe called for a can of peas; i used frozen. Overall, I was very glad to have made this salad and was even happy eating it for the fourth time, like four meals later.

I can’t tell you when I started knitting the Chevron Rib Tank. I can tell you this though, I know I was still married at the time, because I remember working on it as a passenger in the car when my then husband was driving. Eventually, I finished knitting the thing, but by that time, it was too small for me. No fault of the knitting or the yarn, ahem. In the last year, I have been running and trying to exercise more regularly and lost some of the weight that I had put on in the two years prior. When cleaning and accessing my belongings, recently, I came across this piece of knitting and felt brave enough to try it on. Lo and behold, it fit. I would have worn it the next day had the ends been woven in.

So, I decided that before it becomes too cold to even think about a tank top that I would finish with the top already. I was very pleasantly surprised to find that it did not take me a bazillion years (or a trip to the store) to put my hands the appropriate needle for the task. Twenty minutes and several pounds later, I have a top that I can wear. Probably just once before the weather makes that prohibitive.

Yea to finishing what you start!

The third Monday of the month goes a lot like this:

6:15 Wake up and get myself ready for the day

6:45 Wake Alex up and get him ready for the day.

7:00 Breakfast

7:30 Leave for school

8:00 Drop Alex off at School

8:30 Meeting at work

12:00 (or so) Try to squeeze in a lunchtime run (and on a day like today, fail)

5:30 Go pick Alex up from School

6:30 Meet Alex’s dad to drop Alex off

7:00 Meeting

8:00 (or so, varies) Head home.

8:30 get home, try to wind down, go to bed.

Get home and waste time on the internet or playing a silly game like Burger Rush.

Drag self to bed.

Along with apples and pumpkins, pears are one of the tell-tale signs of the season to come. I love pears, and have been known to eat them to the point where the core is merely a string barely holding onto the pear seeds. My pear-love is one of those taken-for-granted loves. Pears have so much potential, yet I barely delve into the possibilities. So, I decided, at least, to make pear butter.

So, I looked up a recipe. And went to town. Now neither the yogurt nor breakfast grains have to be naked!

The recipe that I used was pretty basic and called for 1/2 cup sugar and 1/2 cup water for every pound of pear that you used. I added cinnamon, allspice and ground ginger. Alex can’t wait to have some!