As I sit beneath the lights of my Christmas Tree, and my dishwasher swishes away the residue of a meal well-enjoyed, I am humbled, rare though it may be.
Christmas for my family this year was chaotic at best. My grandmother at 91 has taken to hospice care in a nursing home where she is rounding out her days after a long battle with Stage 4 Cancer. So between visits with her, and juggling work and a social life for me, and juggling our family and in-laws for my brother, we all seemed to be in different directions this Christmas. And because of that, the logistics seemed to outshine the magic. We somehow lost track of what the holiday season is really about.
Then, a few days before Christmas, when my mother was opining about how "screwed up" this holiday season had turned out to be, I decided I was hosting a holiday meal. And so, Family Dinner was born. At my house -- the wee one-story on the pond.
And tonight they came, as a leg of lamb roasted in my oven, and carrots steamed on the stove, bottle-tops and corks were popped, libations were poured, and everyone seemed to let go a little. My Christmas tree glittered in the evening light, strung up with fishing line, after having recently attempted suicide on my living room floor. My niece, busy at three-years-old, counted the ornaments, and played with her horse figurines on the floor beneath, as my dad told stories, and my sister-in-law and my mother griped about pregnancy, and wondered about the man my nephew will become, after he joins our family next month. And I sat back with my glass of wine and observed my colorful, chaotic family. Knowing that they're all the family I'll ever have makes me love them all the more, and as I carved the roast to "Ooohs" and "Ahhhs" over my culinary skills I was warm and happy, and somehow felt perfect despite my imperfections because I brought to them that piece of Christmas we somehow all missed this year: the just being together.
And now, with the house quiet, and everyone having gone home for the night, I am humbled. My issues are small compared to what this season is about. Who cares that I had to work the holiday? Who cares that I spent the day shoveling snow, and scouring my house? Who cares about who bought who the best present? None of us. Tonight, all we cared about was that the food was good, the drinks were plentiful, and the company was stellar. We were us. With our character, humor, honesty and humility, we were everything we've always been, and always will be. We were family. We were perfect.
And, the meal was pretty epic, too, if I do say so myself :)
So, a belated MERRY CHRISTMAS to all... I hope you found as much joy in your own families as I found in mine :)
Friday, December 27, 2013
Sunday, December 15, 2013
Nearly a Year...
Nearly a year has passed.... wow. So much to fill you all in on, and no real idea where to start. So, truthfully, I'm not really going to try. The past is the past. And most of you know the highlights through other means, anyway. So... picking up where we left off....
Now having a place to call home that I don't have to share unless I want to, I'm finding my sanity again. Or, as much sanity as I ever had I suppose. I'm enjoying being settled in, and have jumped into my two loves, cooking, and photography with both feet. And tonight, this recipe graced my dinner table, and it was deliciously perfect for a cold snowy evening :) Curried Acorn Squash Soup
And photos... well, here's a taste of some of my recent favorites...
Now having a place to call home that I don't have to share unless I want to, I'm finding my sanity again. Or, as much sanity as I ever had I suppose. I'm enjoying being settled in, and have jumped into my two loves, cooking, and photography with both feet. And tonight, this recipe graced my dinner table, and it was deliciously perfect for a cold snowy evening :) Curried Acorn Squash Soup
And photos... well, here's a taste of some of my recent favorites...
So... from here on out, I'll try to update more.... <3 p="">
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
I'm Not Hungry... I'm Bored!
Which is what I have been telling myself all day. It pretty much sucks.
As anyone who knows me can attest, I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I fight bad genes that predispose me to being overweight, a serious love affair with potatoes, and my own often distorted view of how I actually look. That being said, I currently am not overweight. My time in Afghanistan took off the few extra pounds I was carrying around, and I am mostly happy with what I see in the mirror these days. That, however, does NOT mean that I can't afford to lose a few pounds.
My mother suffers the same weight loss battle I do, only her love affair is with bread, not potatoes. That being said, a few years ago she went on the South Beach Diet, followed it to the letter, and lost over 40 pounds. Then last spring, she broke her ankle in several places in a nasty fall, and was confined to a wheelchair for several months. The sedentary lifestyle took its toll, and she put back on half the weight that she had lost. Mother like daughter... we look at a cookie and we gain five pounds, and if we can't exercise we gain ten.
So, together, we've gone back on the South Beach Diet. Since we're living under the same roof these days, dieting together makes meal planning easy. And, we can cheer each other on through the rough patches. I don't follow the diet as strictly as my mother does. I'm only looking to lose 10-15 pounds, and I'm too active to cut all the carbs out of my diet. I am pretty sure I would die. So, I'm on what I call South Beach Lite. I allow myself one meal with a minimal starch each day, and allow myself fruit (which normally wouldn't be allowed in Stage One of the SBD). But, otherwise, I am very food conscious, don't snack between meals, and am very careful of my portion size. I've cut my coffee consumption in half, and in its place doubled my water consumption. I pee all the time, and surprisingly, am hungry very rarely. So far so good.
Well, then today happened. I worked out hard at the gym yesterday, which was my fifth consecutive day at the gym, so today was a dedicated rest day. My sore muscles needed it, and I was thankful to not have to make the 40-minute drive to Planet Fitness. However, today was also snowing, so the roads were terrible. That meant I was also stuck inside, because the nasty roads I decided weren't worth smashing my dear truck up on to get some photos. So, I took care of some paperwork-type things, and made some phone calls, and otherwise dealt with domesticness. Then I sat down on the sofa after lunch, and settled in to watch Braveheart on TV. A half-hour in, the nagging desire for something sweet kicked in. It continued to nag, un-indulged, all the way until dinner time.
I wasn't hungry. I was bored. I don't do sedentary well. I guess that means that I don't know how to relax, but that's ok. I like my active lifestyle, and wouldn't trade it for anything... especially not if it means fighting my sweet tooth for hours on end.
As anyone who knows me can attest, I have struggled with my weight my entire life. I fight bad genes that predispose me to being overweight, a serious love affair with potatoes, and my own often distorted view of how I actually look. That being said, I currently am not overweight. My time in Afghanistan took off the few extra pounds I was carrying around, and I am mostly happy with what I see in the mirror these days. That, however, does NOT mean that I can't afford to lose a few pounds.
My mother suffers the same weight loss battle I do, only her love affair is with bread, not potatoes. That being said, a few years ago she went on the South Beach Diet, followed it to the letter, and lost over 40 pounds. Then last spring, she broke her ankle in several places in a nasty fall, and was confined to a wheelchair for several months. The sedentary lifestyle took its toll, and she put back on half the weight that she had lost. Mother like daughter... we look at a cookie and we gain five pounds, and if we can't exercise we gain ten.
So, together, we've gone back on the South Beach Diet. Since we're living under the same roof these days, dieting together makes meal planning easy. And, we can cheer each other on through the rough patches. I don't follow the diet as strictly as my mother does. I'm only looking to lose 10-15 pounds, and I'm too active to cut all the carbs out of my diet. I am pretty sure I would die. So, I'm on what I call South Beach Lite. I allow myself one meal with a minimal starch each day, and allow myself fruit (which normally wouldn't be allowed in Stage One of the SBD). But, otherwise, I am very food conscious, don't snack between meals, and am very careful of my portion size. I've cut my coffee consumption in half, and in its place doubled my water consumption. I pee all the time, and surprisingly, am hungry very rarely. So far so good.
Well, then today happened. I worked out hard at the gym yesterday, which was my fifth consecutive day at the gym, so today was a dedicated rest day. My sore muscles needed it, and I was thankful to not have to make the 40-minute drive to Planet Fitness. However, today was also snowing, so the roads were terrible. That meant I was also stuck inside, because the nasty roads I decided weren't worth smashing my dear truck up on to get some photos. So, I took care of some paperwork-type things, and made some phone calls, and otherwise dealt with domesticness. Then I sat down on the sofa after lunch, and settled in to watch Braveheart on TV. A half-hour in, the nagging desire for something sweet kicked in. It continued to nag, un-indulged, all the way until dinner time.
I wasn't hungry. I was bored. I don't do sedentary well. I guess that means that I don't know how to relax, but that's ok. I like my active lifestyle, and wouldn't trade it for anything... especially not if it means fighting my sweet tooth for hours on end.
Monday, January 14, 2013
Photography Pursuits
The day started yesterday with a heavy fog, a soft drizzle, and warmer-than-seasonable temperatures. I was groggy after what felt like too-short a night, so after making my first cup of morning coffee, I settled into the recliner, and turned on the local morning news. Reports abounded about the strange weather for January, and the Dense Fog Advisory. As the caffeine worked its magic in my system, the creative possibilities that kind of weather can bring to a girl like me began to break through. I then set to making my second cup of coffee, and a plan.
A half-hour later, I was out the door, camera in one hand, coffee in the other, and a smile on my face.
I headed north, taking the chance the the higher elevations would bring a more dense fog. I have some favorite spots that I've always wanted to photograph in misty/foggy conditions, and I was hopeful I would get that opportunity. Well, twenty miles outside of town, and I broke through the fog, crushing those hopes. So, I took a sip of coffee, and altered the plan.
Forty minutes later, I was turning onto Route 112 -- The Kancamagus Highway. This highway has always held a special place in my heart. I can remember driving it for the first time as a child, on a family outing to Lincoln, NH -- a quaint, mountainside town, with shops, outdoor-related activities, and a 20ft tall statue of Paul Bunyan. While driving along what the locals lovingly refer to as "The Kanc," I was enthralled with the twists, turns, and tumbles of the Swift River, which the highway follows for a large portion of the drive. Of the whole family stay, the drive became the most memorable part. Well, that and my torturous older brother's body-encompassing case of Poison Ivy. I was five, and his misery brought be a great deal of joy :)
In the years since, The Kanc has been where I've gone when I've needed to head for the hills. I've photographed it numerous times, but it seems I've never been able to do it without freezing my butt off. But yesterday it was nearly fifty degrees. Couldn't ask for a more fortuitous January thaw.
And I am deeply pleased with my pursuits... Below, one notable photo from the trip :)
A half-hour later, I was out the door, camera in one hand, coffee in the other, and a smile on my face.
I headed north, taking the chance the the higher elevations would bring a more dense fog. I have some favorite spots that I've always wanted to photograph in misty/foggy conditions, and I was hopeful I would get that opportunity. Well, twenty miles outside of town, and I broke through the fog, crushing those hopes. So, I took a sip of coffee, and altered the plan.
Forty minutes later, I was turning onto Route 112 -- The Kancamagus Highway. This highway has always held a special place in my heart. I can remember driving it for the first time as a child, on a family outing to Lincoln, NH -- a quaint, mountainside town, with shops, outdoor-related activities, and a 20ft tall statue of Paul Bunyan. While driving along what the locals lovingly refer to as "The Kanc," I was enthralled with the twists, turns, and tumbles of the Swift River, which the highway follows for a large portion of the drive. Of the whole family stay, the drive became the most memorable part. Well, that and my torturous older brother's body-encompassing case of Poison Ivy. I was five, and his misery brought be a great deal of joy :)
In the years since, The Kanc has been where I've gone when I've needed to head for the hills. I've photographed it numerous times, but it seems I've never been able to do it without freezing my butt off. But yesterday it was nearly fifty degrees. Couldn't ask for a more fortuitous January thaw.
And I am deeply pleased with my pursuits... Below, one notable photo from the trip :)
Friday, January 11, 2013
The Rules
Carrie's Rules for Life
1.) There is no excuse for not meeting one's obligations.
2.) Duty first, playtime later.
3.) Honest always, even when it's unflattering.
4.) When time allows for you to look good, there is no excuse for looking bad.
5.) Always wear pretty undies, even if you're the only one that's going to see them.
6.) Always find a reason to smile, because to your allies it will be infectious, and to your enemies it will be intimidating.
7.) Just because you play with the boys, doesn't mean you have to look and smell like one.
8.) Take care of your body like you would your car. Fuel it, maintain it, keep it clean, don't let other people scratch the paint, and always have some form of insurance.
9.) Don't be afraid to get your hands dirty, but never let yourself go without having pretty feet.
10.) Treat your friends as well as you'd treat your family, and treat your family like they're angels on earth, because they are -- they put up with you and your antics.
Of late, I've done rather well at living by my Rules for Life. Which has been keeping me far to busy to update anything on here. That said, I am now realizing that #1 might be a little lacking. I'll work on it.
I have, as is evidenced by my post, survived my tour in Afghanistan. I was on ground for 11 months and 6 days, and I am very glad to be home. I don't regret a single day of my time served, but I'm not overly anxious to do it again any time soon. I made a great deal of friends, learned a lot about myself, my country, and what it really means to wear my nation's flag on my sleeve. Most importantly, I learned what was really important to me, and have since my return, been making huge strides to put those things first.
I have moved out of Pennsylvania -- in fact, I accomplished my last residency requirement today. Moving is an expensive venture, and while the administrative stuff is all done, the actual moving hasn't really happened yet. My entire material life is still in a 10ftx20ft storage bay, and won't be moved until I am gainfully employed, and not living with my parents.
Yes. At 27 years old, after having lived on my own for nearly a decade, I've moved back in with my Mom and Dad. It is an experience, to say the very least, and one that I won't elaborate on in detail just yet. I am thankful for a place to stay while I sort out the madness of this very huge career/location change, and we will leave it at that.
And yes, the career change... I had burned out of working in prison. While I learned a lot in Corrections, it's not where I belong. And after working in prison deployed, I was even less enthusiastic about working in prison as a civilian. So, I resigned. Settling for being comfortable should never substitute being happy.
So, I have moved home, and am in the application process for law enforcement, which is all I've ever wanted to do anyway. I ended up in Corrections due to a lack of options, and it served me well when I needed it. But now, it is time to move on. I will keep you updated on the endeavors...
Now, let me return to my Rules of Life. I referenced these, as I do periodically, as a bench-mark for myself and my own moral compass. So far, so good. I've been meeting my obligations to the Army, my friends and family, and have been better about meeting my own personal obligations, which I have notoriously put off for last. Every day, I take care of what needs to be before I goof off with the camera, or adventure off with the girls. I have been painfully honest, mostly because my bullshit tolerance is so very low these days. Because of that, I've also been saying "I'm sorry" a lot. I have been enjoying "looking good." It's amazing how much you'll appreciate your blue jeans, after a year in utilities. I have been smiling so much my face hurts at night. I am happy with the changes in my life, so 90% of the time, the smiles are genuine. The other 10% of the time, I find entertainment out of making people squirm. I have been playing with the boys a lot -- working on my truck, helping my dad on the farm, plowing and sanding the roadways my dad has winter weather contracts with. And I keep being told by strangers that I'm too pretty to be doing that kind of work. So, apparently Rule #7 is right on the mark! While I was a bit of a slacker over the holidays, I only gained six pounds, which I have been working feverishly since the New Year to take off. The good news is that I feel better for it. The bad new is, that it is still a work in progress. My hands have been dirty a lot, but I have had one professional pedicure since I got back in the States, and have given myself mini-pedicures twice. In fact, tonight I painted my toes a very nice royal purple. Pretty feet rock! And my friends... well, they pretty much are my family. And they try my patience sometimes near as much as my family does. But I exercise what little patience I have, and do my best to appreciate the fact that they put up with me, and my quirks, and I can make an effort to do the same with them. Rule #10 for me is always a work in progress.
But, I'm not failing miserably, and I can lay one small fear I had to rest. I can return to civilian life without any speakable hitch. So long as I maintain my rules, anyway... :)
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