The sweet spot

Sometimes things just click. A problem suddenly has a solution. A wish becomes a reality. A missing piece in your life gets found so that you are now complete. I feel like I’m seeing things click into place left and right these days. It feels like I’m in a kind of sweet spot. I’m forming a clearer vision of what I want and how I can accomplish it.

Funny, but its the accomplish part that always seems such an obsticle.

To be honest, I think that I’m at a point that has been a good four years in the making. All the failing to accomplish over that time has brought me here and now with the perspective, understanding and humor I need to finally find the answer, fill the gap and get what I need not just what I want.

This morning I read an entry at Low Hanging Fruit . It spoke of The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, a beloved excercise for many friends of mine. The article discussed one assignment from The Artist’s Way which was to picture your life 12 weeks from today. How will it look? What will be different? What will you have created? An amazing idea and one I’m putting down on paper.

What will your life look like in the next three months? What do you want to accomplish? How will you succeed? How may you fail? What do you need to do to find your own sweet spot?

The nose knows…

It started on Saturday morning. I was rushing out of the house on a snowy day to Saratoga for the Northeast Organic Farming Association’s (NOFA) Winter Conference. Bundled up like a six year old on a sledding expedition, I piled into my car. In that two second window between getting in and starting the car there was a sniff or maybe it was a whiff of something funny. Or weird. Or wrong. Whatever it was, as soon as the heater started to hum my mind (and my nose) moved on.

Sunday morning the same thing – except - my mind had enough time to start considering what it might be. A half-formed question popped into my head…What is that — ? before the grocery list I’d been ruminating on took precedence.

Monday morning came and with it recognition mixed with a whole lot of denial. There couldn’t be something dead in my car…could there?

And this morning bargaining crept in. Yes, there is definitely the smell of decay. Maybe, just maybe, I drove over something that stuck to the bottom of my car. Like the roadkill version of gum. So I went for a car wash hoping that this would do the trick but accepting it probably wouldn’t. No, I’ll be stuck with the ever-increasing whiff until, one day, it will disappear as suddenly as it arrived.

I live in the country, this has happened before and (unfortunately) will happen again. That’s how the nose knew even if the mind didn’t.

Home economics

Two years ago I lived on a very tight budget. I’d been let go from a consulting job and was working part-time at a local farm (see January 2010 posts). I had student loans and rent and a whole lot of worries. During this period I lived on a $20/week budget  for all groceries. I did it and did it well, never really feeling like I was terribly deprived and only once eating Ramen noodles. I ate healthy, satisfying meals – or dinners at least.

Today I am again living on a tight budget. I have a wonderful full-time job in a field I love. I am not as burdened with the immediate financial worries as I once was, but it doesn’t mean that I have forgotten the lessons learned either. I’m back to having a very low grocery budget – $30/week. This may blow some minds but as I said all those years ago – it just takes some planning and some know how. I’ve realized that know how is a rare commodity in today’s world.

Question: Do you know what to do with a whole chicken?

I ask because a $5.00 chicken ($4.92 to be exact) has provided me with a week’s worth of meals.

Sunday I roasted it on a bed of potatoes, onions, carrots and celery. I put the meat aside in containers for later use.

Monday I had chicken salad and crackers for lunch while the carcass boiled away in a large pot to make stock (click for recipe). And for dinner I had cream of tomato soup (below) with grilled cheese.

Tuesday’s lunch was left over roasted veggies with about 1/4 c. of shredded chicken and dinner was a quick saute of the final roasted veggies, 1/2 c. of chopped chicken and frozen green beans.

Today is leftovers from last night for lunch and a piping hot bowl of chicken and rice soup for dinner.

Thursday will be leftover soup for lunch and chicken parm pasta for dinner.

Friday will be more soup for lunch and, well, dinner hasn’t been decided yet.

One chicken has provided me with all these meals plus many more. I have 3 quarts of stock still in the freezer and that’s not counting the 2 I have in the fridge waiting for tonight’s soup. I have one serving of tomato soup and 3 servings of diced chicken in the freezer too. And after tonight’s soup I’ll have another 2 servings of that tucked in the freezer as well.

And no, I am not sick of chicken… yet…but I won’t be doing a repeat next week – that featured food is yet undetermined. Careful planning, creative menus and know how – that’s how this single girl is happily living on one tiny (but delicious) budget.

Quick and easy tomato soup (2 servings)

1/4 c. finely diced onion

1 c. tomato sauce

2 c. chicken stock

1/4 c. heavy cream

salt and pepper to taste

1. In a sauce pan saute onions in 2 tsp. olive oil until translucent.
2. Stir in tomato sauce and let cook 1 to 2 minutes.
3. Add chicken stock and bring to a boil. Cook for another 3 to 5 minutes.
4. Turn heat to low and stir in cream. Let cook for another minute or two or until soup comes back up to temp.

Pesky passion

Passion’s a funny thing. It pops up out of nowhere and, if you aren’t careful, can take over every aspect of your life. I’ll be honest, I’ve often looked at folks that are passionate about something with a bit of skepticism.

I used to date a guy that was passionate about Phish. He had tapes (it was the 1990′s) of rare shows, books, posters…collections of Phish and only Phish. I do not like Phish, I don’t like their music, I don’t get it and I never have. This did not stop him from trying to convert me because if he was passionate about Phish, why wouldn’t I?

But that’s the thing – passion is unique. One person experiences that consuming sense of purpose and belonging in a completely different way than someone else…even if they are passion about the same thing…or their passion is each other. Passion makes you feel connected but it also sets you apart. Passion is like joy or sorrow, it’s like tasting the perfect creme brulee – every heart, every soul, every taste bud is different and so two people both really enjoy the creme brulee, but their joy will be unique to them.

I’ve been thinking about passion a lot this week – professional passion that is. Come to find out, I have a lot of it. And here is where passion is funny: I’m passionate about something I would have never even guessed ten years ago. I’m passionate about farmers. Specifically, building relationships with farmers. Learning what their passions are and why they do what they do. I’ve tried to develop this passion into something useful over and over again (Common Ground, this blog) but life and money seem to make me lose focus.

This year I’m going to recommit to my passion in a way that connects it with my life and (hopefully) my money. Just how I’m going to accomplish that is still undetermined, but I’m working on it.

A theory on shopping…

I had a very strange sort of December. It was stressful (soooo stressful) but everything: every opportunity, every crisis and, yes, every mistake has moved me forward. I have one rather large mistake on my mind while I write this. One mistake that has made me think about men a little differently. Now, I’m going to meander a little so you have to bear with me…

It used to be that when I went shopping for clothes I’d get disgusted and frustrated and walk out of a store with an ugly sweater I was never going to wear and a pair of shoes that looked pretty but I knew were going to cause me pain in the long run. I hated clothes shopping with a passion until I decided to look at it not as a war against my body but a scavenger hunt. You see, when I shop these days I take a carpet bombing strategy. I pick up three different sizes, I grab things I think look ugly on the rack, I grab things I think I’ll love. Pretty much I grab anything I can carry and lumber into the dressing room like a woman overcome by some sort of hoarding psychosis.

The results are often mixed. I find that I’m a size 12 in one thing and a size 16 in another. I realize that the beautiful white tunic makes my ass look huge and the ugly purple stripey cardigan makes my waist look small. I discover the most amazing opportunities while looking in that three-way mirror under flourescent lighting not only about the pieces of clothes I put on but about my idea and image of myself.

So, here’s the thing…I used to pick a man and set my hopes and dreams on him. I used to think that because he looked and sounded wonderful he’d look and sound wonderful for me. Sure, I’d smile at others and entertain them in flirty banter but my heart was set on that one or two fellas I thought were absolutely dreamy. And that played havoc with my love life or, rather, lack there-of.

Today I’m taking the same philosophy I have on clothes shopping and applying it to the men I come across as well. Pretty much I’ll scoop up any man who has the guts and the gusto to ask me out. I don’t care if he’s 450 lbs. or if he’s 5 foot 2. I don’t care if he’s an absolute hunk and 24 years old. My thought is that if you fall into my net I have to try you out (at least for a little while). Now, some are not going to be a good fit and that’s just fine but I’m not going to judge.

Which brings me to the idea of making mistakes. 2012 is the year of making mistakes. I’ve been too worried for too long about making the wrong move that I make no move what so ever…Which sucks by the way…December was my first mistake, he kissed me like I was a Big Mac and he was a starving man (not sexy). But hell, I gave it a whirl and it moved me forward.

A quick one…

A new year brings new possibilities, new challenges and (sometimes most important) fresh starts. I am consumed with new beginnings. I just moved into a brand new apartment that fits the image I conjured up right around this time last year. Sure, I wanted my own house but this aparment is two floors and affordable without all the strings and constraints of home ownership.

I start a list every year filled with ten or so things I want/hope/dream will come true in the following weeks and months. Sometimes I realize my dreams and sometimes not so much. I’ve started my 2012 list but haven’t really had the time to think the whole thing through so far I have…

1. Run 1,000 miles
2. Lose 25 lbs. (always there)
3. Get published, I mean really  published
4. Work my way up to 12,000 views on this blog (which correlates to…)
5. Post a minimum of three entries a week
6. Make a lot of mistakes when it comes to men (not something you normally read, right?)

Anyway, the year is off and running. My second night in my happy home I opened a fortune cookie (every new apartment needs a celebratory Chinese take-away meal). The fortune was this: Love is friendship set to music. Isn’t that beautiful? I have it on my fridge right now.

Here is to a 2012 filled with friendship, music and maybe a little love too.

A challenge and an un-apology

Gratitude. It’s not a common word in our world. It can seem kind of big and daunting. It can seem kind of antiquated. Why? Why is it difficult to wrap our heads around this three-syllabul word?

I think it’s pretty well established that I am a ‘good girl.’ Yes, I’ve fought it, tried to avoid it and worked to get a bit more edge. But the truth is that I can’t deny being a good girl. Once a good girl, always a good girl…and is that so wrong? I’m kind. I’m sweet (most of the time). And I am one hell of a cook. These are things that I share with my friends, my family and with the rest of the world. And I recognize that for all of us, whether we realize it or not, gratitude is sometimes more valuable than gold.

Gratitude is on the upswing. I’ve been doing more and more research on it. There are whole psychological fields devoted to gratitude, fundraising how-to’s on how to show gratitude to donors. Being thankful, showing your appreication is (surprisingly) becoming more important to people in the business world. But because it still isn’t common practice, showing gratitude actually gives you an edge. Can you be sincerely grateful to someone when the mere act of gratitude is used as an economic advantage? I don’t know.

So my challenge is this: Show a little gratitude everyday. Call a friend and tell them that you appreciate them simply for who they are. Let the cleaning staff in your office know that they do an awsome job and that you are thankful for the work that they do. It doesn’t take a lot of time or a lot of effort to spread a little joy, so why don’t we do it more often?

Places unseen

There is an unseen New York, though it’s right in front of the world’s face. When people hear those two words put together: New – York, they tend to think of one place, the center of culture and commerce, fashion and finance, New York City. The truth is that the City takes up a whole .05% of the state’s geography and though it’s population is quite large, it does not reflect what the real New York is.

To me, New York is wide open spaces. Land, farms, men and women who tend and steward the ground under their feet and the animals in their care. New York is rolling valleys, rivers, lakes and creeks (or cricks). New Yorker’s have rough hands, farmer tans, a case of beer in the workshop and smiles on their faces. They have pride and satisfaction in the work that they do because they know that the early mornings, late nights, worries, challenges and triumphs provide quality, nutritious and delicious meals not only for the family they sit down with at night, but for the families throughout the state, region, nation and world.

Last week I attended the New York Farm Bureau State Annual Meeting. We sat through the delegate sessions (true democracy in action), chewed on an endless supply of cheese curds (too good to resist) and mixed and mingled with friends only seen once a year. We spoke to interested legislators, politicos and policy wonks who have either already realized (or are beginning to) the important role agriculture plays in the state.

As participants we re-energized and re-focused on the work that needs to be done, the education and outreach that still needs to be accomplished so that we can be seen in the world – can be appreciated for the real, true and vital New York that is so often invisible.

Farmers are now sexy. NPR, the New York Times, Wall Street Journal and other important publications do articles on the “new” farmer all the time but sometimes I wonder if they focus too much on the “new” and not on the farmer. They focus on the urbanites who move to the country to begin a life tied to the land. That’s wonderful, I’m one of them so I can’t judge too heavily…but I’m going to…because I can’t help but ask myself where are the pieces in the NYT about the fifth generation farmer? The folks who moved to the country to start a dairy farm and just farm, who don’t sell their bottled milk at Barney’s or at the Union Market?

I need to commit

I’ve been really really stressed this week. My life is about to go through a major transition (I think) and, though excitement and joy surge in my veins, the uncertainty of it all can be a little overwhelming. I love transition, I love the possibilities that change brings. I’ve been through enough twists and turns in my life that I know even the bad changes bring growth and confidence and, yes, joy in the end. But the in-between, the standing on the cliff, the working up to actually jumping – that part involves a lot of food.

I mean a lot of food.

I’ll be honest, I’m pretty disgusted with myself right now. So to counter-act the complete damage I’m doing to my waistline (and my self-image), I’ve decided to commit to a few things in the coming year…

1. I will  run 1,000 miles (that’s a little less than 20 miles a week)

2. I will lose 25 pounds

…I’m sure that I’ll think of more. I’ve got a few possibilities floating around in my head…Oh!

3.  I will run 4 races this year

A girl’s got needs

Sometimes a thought pops into my head and I just can’t get it out. I need something…bad. It could be a run, a kiss or a sweet treat but I’ve just got to have it and my mind won’t rest until I’ve gotten whatever the “it” is.

I house-sat this week for friends in my old stomping ground. I realized just how much I missed having a space of my own, surrounded by the people and the place that make me feel complete, like the best version of me. So, maybe I’ve got some searching to do, some big changes to make and some moving in my future…I’m not sure just yet.

But, back to the craving I’ve had going around in my head for the week – oatmeal pancakes. Yes, I said pancakes. Soft and supple, hearty and sweet, I’ve had this need float around with little ambition or opportunity because seriously what’s the point in making a batch of pancakes if it’s only you who is going to eat them?

So, back on the farm, I woke up early while everyone was out in the barn this morning and made a very successful batch of oatmeal pancakes. A nice treat for those coming into the smell of comforting, warm perfection and a treat for me to see how eagerly they got snapped up.

Below is the recipe, adapted from Deborah Madison’s Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone.

Oatmeal Pancakes

1 1/2 c. quick cook oats

2 c. buttermilk

2 eggs

1 t. vanilla

2 T. maple syrup

1/4 c. canola oil

1/2 t. salt

1/2 c. flour

1/2 t. baking soda

1. Stir the oats and buttermilk together in a large bowl and let stand for 15 to 20 minutes.
2. Beat the eggs with the vanilla, syrup and oil, then stir into the soaked oats.
3. Combine the dry ingredients and add them to the oat mixture as well, stirring until fully combined.
4. Cook in a skillet over medium heat. Flip when bubbles for in the center of the pancake and the edges are firm.

These pancakes are truly satisfying…and filling!