Other crap that's on my mind.

A website about things you probably don't care about, but I do so shove it.

Monday, September 28, 2009

two days to make and one hour to eat.

I made apple-honey challah, homemade applesauce (from a tree right across the street), Italian-Jewish style brisket (dominic really claimed this as his own though), baba gonoush, potato latkes, matzo ball soup complete with homemade chicken stock (also a dominic contribution) and a sweet tasting kugel.

we had 7 friends come over, an extra table and chairs delivered, lots of wine as gifts, one bottle of grape manichevitz and the vegetarian even made liverless chopped liver.

we talked about religion, making tea, creating children's books, how big your thighs get when you ride a bike and i got to feel my friend's belly when the baby inside her started to hiccup.

we cooked for 2 days (the bread alone took about 4 hours to RISE and knead and so on), we ate in a matter of 60 minutes, we talked for 2 hours, we cleaned up and put everything away in a matter of minutes.

i couldn't have been happier.

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Friday, September 25, 2009

Meet meat...


It just so happens I'm finally getting around to reading Omnivore's Dilemma, where the chapter I'm on discusses meat and how it's basically not properly raised on most "farms". Yes, even the meat you buy from your grocery store that's labeled "grass-fed" "organic" "cage-free" "farm-fresh" still comes from a huge factory where, sure they might not use any pesticides or growth-hormones, but the way that cow is treated is exactly the same as any corporate factory you've grown to hate. The cows, chickens or pigs might have a door somewhere to be let "free" but they're still put in a big cage (or shelter, if you will) with thousands of other cows, chickens or pigs. They probably can't even see this door if they tried. They probably are stepping in eachother's shit and vomit and feathers until they die - by a machine. Basically, a slaughterhouse is a slaughterhouse no matter what pretty little sticker you put on the package.

But because I'm lucky to live in Seattle, where everyone composts their banana peels and farmer's markets are shopped at more than Safeways, I also get to do things like visit farms from where I get my cheese (which I've done) or have the farmer, who raised and yes, killed my meat, can come to a parking lot near me to sell the cow or lamb or chicken that was on his beautiful farm not so long ago.

The difference is simple. When I go to my local grocery store, it usually says a lot of things or nothing at all about my meat. Lately, I've noticed more packages with stickers that say, "From the farm" but don't say which farm or there's simply a sticker of a farm, but no mention that the cow was actually living on one. But with Thundering Hooves there's no mistaking where your meat comes from. You know the cows have plenty of land to graze on. You know that they are fed grains, and why they are fed grains. You can take tours of their farm, and see pictures of their farm from their site. You can actually meet the person who probably once handled the cow/chicken/pig that you are now about to eat.

Awhile back, Dominic and I did a taste test from meat at Safeway that was labeled, "Farm fresh, organic without fed any hormones". Then we bought a much more expensive piece of meat, the same cut, the same weight, from our local Farmer's Market. The taste of the two were so remarkably different (meaning that the Farmer's Market meat was way fucking better - like better than any fancy steak you've had at any restaurant ever). This became just one of our reasons to buy meat locally. The other reasons should be obvious and that's how I found Thundering Hooves.

So in two weeks, I'll walk 2 miles to get meat that's only come 280 miles to get to me. And that, for some strange reason, makes me happy.


Wednesday, September 23, 2009


I think one of the main reasons Dominic and I work so well together is because we’re both big-time dreamers. Whether we actually go through with all of them, some of them or none of them is left to be determined. My dreams seem to be more of the life-changing variety, where his dreams are more of the hobby-making variety. Somehow I think I took one of my old dreams and made it work with one of his current dreams and now we both can’t stop talking about it.

Basically, I’m back on the B&B kick. I figured what a perfect way to combine a bunch of things we love.

I love:
-Telling people all the things there are to do in Seattle, especially free things
-Having a garden (for the produce) that would make the breakfast
-Cooking (although I’m much healthier than Dominic – which is sometimes code for bland, but it’s definitely code for I don’t use salt)
-Playing maid (just no vacuuming or ironing – I can’t iron to save my life)

Dominic loves:
-Talking to people
-Watching Julia Child cook
-Creating off-the-cuff recipes (I’m more of a recipe girl)

So obviously he would do the breakfast, and I would do the sheets, tend to the garden, bake yummy things so the house smells like cookies and leave coupons or post ideas on a bulletin board for things to do in Seattle.

There are, of course, big disadvantages/advantages to running a B&B.

-For awhile we’d have to live with these people and I like my privacy/turn the music on real loud at night
-Early mornings and late nights, for late check-ins
-No vacations
-No security
-Taking out loans after I just finished paying off everything

-We could write off the house we would buy
-If we ever had downtime, we could potentially keep freelancing
-I could have a bigger garden, and possibly chickens!!
-No more bosses!!
-I wouldn’t have to stare at a computer all the live, long day

That last reason, is probably my biggest reason for bringing this idea back to life. I’m getting a bit tired of looking at this machine all day. When I come home, I end up looking at it too. It’s becoming too much for me. I got into Advertising to be creative and come up with cool ideas. I didn’t go into Advertising to look at a screen and go to lots of meetings. I know that no job is perfect, and I totally understood before choosing this career that with this job I would have to go to meetings and be in front of a computer and it's by no means horrible. But after 7 years I'm feeling the need for change. I definitely like my job more than I hate it. But as my eyes start to blur, even as I type this – I worry if it’s taking over me. I love the days when I get home from work, Dominic and I eat dinner together at the dining room table and then we go on a bike ride, or I tend to the garden or I cook until I’m reminded it’s way past my bedtime. Or when we went to Mexico and neither of us mentioned our jobs at all - throughout the whole trip.

I know starting a B&B is a huge risk to our paychecks, a big responsibility and so much work our heads will spin. But like I said before, it’s all talk and no action at this point, but it’s a fun idea nonetheless and if anything it's something else to talk about at the dining room table.


Monday, September 14, 2009

Mexico: a lazy recap

I'm back from Mexico and one of the first things I did upon returning was tell all my knitter friends what a fabulous time I had. Instead of explaining everything again, I'm going to be a lazy blogger and just cut, copy and paste what I told them. Enjoy!

P.S. I posted this in a thread called THREAD OF HAPPINESS

"i had the greatest time in mexico. i got to see my good friends get married. i caught up with people i haven’t seen since college. i got to zipline. i rode in a jeep through the jungle. i saw really old things in tulum. i ran into the beach with dominic and it was so wonderful and warm and clear, with no sharks in sight. i got to relearn spanish. i bought vanilla and drank my favorite sipping chocolate that i just can’t ever find in america. i ate tripe and cheek and drooled and then pissed myself that our taco dinner cost less than $5. i laughed. i caught up on so much sleep that i’m totally renewed. out of 5 rounds of gin, i totally kicked dominic’s ass in 4 of those rounds (granted i’ve been playing since i was a baby, but still i was happy about this). i took yoga classes every day in a beautiful semi-outdoor studio with lots of spanish people and sweat my ass off - literally. i napped in a hammock. i wore a bathing suit for breakfast, lunch and dinner. i didn’t turn on anything for 6 days. i saw a little girl pee in the sand. i drank margaritas and wine and mojitos. i watched a soccer game and actually enjoyed the whole thing with a bunch of mexicans and americans who decided to live in mexico. i gave my boyfriend lots of kisses. i got a tan. i didn’t want to come home. i was (and am) very, very happy."

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