Dinner with a Kick!

I tried a new recipe today.
It called for 2 canned chipotle chiles in adobo sauce, finely chopped, plus 2 tablespoons adobo sauce.
I thought that’s what I bought...it wasn’t.
I went ahead and used the 2 cans of Chipotle-something- or- other- with- adobo sauce that I had but with the first taste I knew I had it wrong!
Smoke was pouring out of my ears! WOW!
I didn’t want to waste all the chicken so I loaded my serving with chips, avocado, and sour cream to tone in down a bit.
It didn’t really work.
I was in a full sweat with tears streaming down my face as I ate.
I felt obligated to eat it so it wouldn’t be a waste, but luckily I made homemade granola after school with Jace today. The kids ate that.

I knew Sam would like the Spicy dish. He likes to eat hot stuff like that. My insides don’t like me right now.
This recipe has potential. I think I will try it again with that correct ingredient.

This evening my 6 year old boy asked me if I was going to make the “Fantastic Dinner” I made last night. “I really liked that one Mom!”...It was pasta out of the box and a jar of sauce!
Maybe I shouldn’t try so hard??

I need help in my kitchen. This isn’t the first time my dinner is uneatable. I’m pretty sure I am going to be a fantastic cook by the time the kids are out of the house.

I am happy that all the kids have had Green Smoothies everyday this week! If Abi's diapers aren't green I feel like a failure!

Dusting off the Treadmill

In honor of New Year’s and the “Resolution” that follows- I joined many Americans and stepped onto the treadmill for the first time in over a year. Hey, it wouldn’t be January if the home gym didn’t get dusted off, right?

I got on the treadmill this morning-when my body was begging me not to. I am so out of shape the thought of getting ready for my Triathlon this June hurts.
I think I have a running disorder. Some beast emerges when I run. I have this inner battle with two personalities I’m a little embarrassed to reveal. The first is positive and confident the second is mean and ugly!

When I am “in shape” I can manage these personalities- but when the workout hurts it’s WAR in my head.
I make up excuses and reasons to stop short of my goal over and over and over. Thankfully my inner strength kicks in at the right moment and I always make my goals and end triumphantly. But the battle repeats the next day. ( you can read about this battle I faced during my Triathlon last year, HERE)
I wonder if others have this disorder also? Another part of it is when I’m in the thick of the pain I get very irritated with my clothes! They feel like armor and I want them off! Underwear seems so liberating! Hummm... Perhaps another post another day.

I don’t love to exercise. In fact, I hate to run. I haven’t found my running love yet. Maybe someday it will come to me. As for now, I do it when I’ve committed to a race. And I sign up for these TRI’s to scare me into shape. (Except this logic didn’t really work last year. I showed up to a TRI without training, curious to see if I would DIE or not. I didn’t die. I almost did at the finnish line but nothing too serious that 3 footlong sandwiches couldn’t cure.)
So, this year I know just signing up for the TRI isn’t enough to “scare” me into shape. BUT having 10 other friends sign up with me sure does!
I have some competition! I MUST get into shape.
Today I ran 1 mile.
Yup, just one mile.
UNO.
It took me 12:33 to do it too.
UGH! That sucks!

Consistency?

I take back what I wrote yesterday about not being consistent in anything. I’m pretty consistent in a lot of things but I’ve labeled them as “bad” so don’t consider them as accomplishments like I would the others. I'll turn over a new leaf and proudly claim some consistency...

~Sleeping in.
I ALWAYS want to sleep in. If the clock reads anything before 9am I want to go back to sleep. No matter what day it is!

~Ignoring the kitchen.
I will choose ANYTHING over doing the dishes. I consider it a GREAT accomplishment when I do dishes ONCE a day.

~NOT Getting ready for the day.
I really hope I can chalk this up to being just a phase, but I will admit I don’t spend more than 10min. looking in the mirror. My intention is just to look presentable at the bus stop but the truth is I never return to the mirror again. On the rare days when I do get “Ready” I wonder why I don’t do it more often. I takes too much time. I’d rather get “Things” done than spend my morning in the bathroom!

~Laundry.
I found a system that works great with the laundry. ALL the kids clothes are in the laundry room. I don’t store any clothes in their room!
They dress and undress in the Laundry room so the bedrooms stay clean! When I am done with a load they go straight from the dryer into the dresser or their individual clothes rack. I love this. (I also keep all the toys in the basement so NO toys or clothes= Clean Rooms!
BUT just to keep it real I always leave mine and Sam’s laundry half undone. I always have a full laundry basket in the bedroom. Some days they are dirty and other days that same basket is clean. Sam loves this guessing game!

~Shopping.
I hate shopping. Whatever kind of shopping it is...I don’t like it. I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember.

~Ice Cream.
I’m very consistent in this department! I love Ice Cream. I can eat ice cream till the cows come home! Right now my favorite is Vanilla with a huge handful of chocolate Chips! Yum!

New

I love the beginning of a New Year. I like the freshness of starting over.
I am not one to be consitant. The ONLY thing I have ever done for a whole year straight is Nurse Abigail. I really had to work at it for the last few months too. I was so proud to have accomplished that.
I am so fickle at best.
I have great intentions and then my human weaknesses kick in and I fizzle.
I wish passion lasted longer within me.

2011 was a great year for me. So many good things happened. I learned a lot more about myself.
It was a spiritual growth year for me too. I feel like understanding myself Spiritually is understanding the real me.
For the first time I am beginning to feel like ME. I like who I am and what gifts God has given me. I like discovering new things. I feel interesting for once.
I have something to offer this world. I have something to offer in all my relationships...that’s a good feeling.

Hurricane Irene

Today I rushed to get my life put together- in hopes it doesn’t get ripped apart tomorrow.
I didn’t know it was possible to get ALL the laundry done in one day.
I’ve never craved to clean my basement, garage, patio, or yard like I have today.

My starving shelves are plump again and my food storage, I fear, is going to be opened over the next few weeks.

Tomorrow, with the first drops of rain, I will be collecting all things valuable to me; my Journals, photos, documents, and family.
Our hideout in the basement is ready- whether I am or not.

Won’t this be fun?

www.hobihome.info

Grow where you are planted

I’ve lived in Connecticut for 8 years. You would think that’s long enough to call this place my home.

I don’t.

I still feel like this is all temporary. I marvel at the beauty in the Summer and feel like I’m in Heaven in the Fall and year after year I feel lucky to see it again.

It’s NOT mine and I won’t be here forever. My heart is removed from this place. I don’t know why.

There isn’t any other place in the world I am dying to relocate to, so these feelings don’t make a lot of sense. I will be BOLD and say I think our time in Connecticut is nearing an end. I don’t have any reasons except my heart has been telling me change is in the air.

Sam has a job HERE and doesn’t have offers in his back pocket but I know the Lord sees the bigger picture.
Poor Sam, he’s trying to make sense of me. He suggested I re-arrange the furniture or paint a room to satisfy my gypsy blood.
I think that’s funny. I do like change.

So, I wonder if I’ll ever grow roots and feel at home. When it comes down to it- Home is where your heart is. I can be happy where ever my family is.

I have done a lot of “growing up“ while living here. I couldn’t ask for a better people to learn from.

I just think I’m about to get up-rooted.

Isn’t life exciting...

Beautiful?

My Ember in India Blog is acting up on me...so I'm back to blogger till I figure it out.


I wish you could see what I see. I’m on a 4 hour road trip on a bus to Agra. I want to sleep but I can’t peel myself away from the window. India is so intriguing to me. Our one way freeway is littered with motorcycles, bikes, diesel trucks, horses, cows, dogs, tractors, vans, carts and pedestrians. It’s madness, to say the least. One way doesn’t mean one way. In fact, it doesn’t mean anything here. Cars drive both ways with one hand on the horn beeping the whole way. I think the horn replaced the blinker. I’ve studied the driving patterns and I have noticed all cars have “Sound Horn” painted on the back of the vehicle. Any car trip I have made hasn’t been complete without bouncing my way along the pot hole streets to the screeching horns the entire way. The roads to and from villages are terrible (and that’s an understatement)! But back to the horn...it doesn’t mean; “Watch out your going to get killed!” like it does most the time in the US. Instead it means I’m going to pass you, or “I see you walking down the street” or “I’m going to move closer to the edge” so, in other words the horn means everything and nothing! Cars weave in and out -drive all over the road and stop where they want. There are no rules to driving here, except that you need to be gutsy. Ramish, our tour guide said this about driving in India,
” Driving is 25% pedal, 25% horn and 50% luck.” He doesn’t drive if he can help it. It’s too crazy, he says.
Yesterday I 20 people cram into one vehicle! It was like something you would see in the Circus! Come to think of it-I think I have seen something like that in the Circus with clowns! The cars here a tiny compact cars too!

As we drive through what appears to be “Nowhere” men, women, and children are parading down the street. I can’t tell where they are going or where they have been. Nothing is around us. But the streets are buzzing.
Randomly we hit a busy spot and suddenly we are in the middle of a sad looking farmers market. Carts of fruit, drinks, clothes, bananas, and a variety of undefinable things are being sold in the mud covered streets with trash strewn about like dirt. Woman walk about adorned in beautiful Sari’s, carrying a child in their arms or a package on their head. They look stunning and it doesn’t make sense to me that they walk through filth like it’s not there.



Horns are bleating in every direction causing me to look here and there. I can’t keep up with the moment. I want to freeze time and analyze what I’m looking at. Consider life from their perspective but in an instant it’s all gone and I’m faced with new scenes and new questions before I’ve resolved any of the old ones.
Each Market is like a Where’s Waldo page. If you could sit and stare for more than a few seconds I’m sure I would see some amazing things.
One thing I could do without is the men relieving themselves in the street! I can’t endure a car trip without seeing this at least 5 times a day!

I feel as though I have been time warped. Old men sit atop wagons being pulled by ox, horse or even camel. Animals and carts travel alongside our bleating vehicles and over loaded cars. I’ve seen diesel trucks ,covered with tarps, with a community of people riding on top as if its a free ride. I can’t help but wonder if the driver is aware of the population on board.
In the fields I see stick huts here and there and then men squatting, like my kids do when watching ants in the sand. What are they doing?.




These little villages we pass through appear unannounced. Suddenly there are more cows, more trash and more people. I can’t figure out where they all came from. It’s as if they just appeared. The few buildings that are in the area look like they were bombed and only half the structure is left. A closer look reveals a family has set up a home inside. No windows, doors, or front steps. Just a big hole in a wall to enter and a roof to provide shelter or shade.
Motorcycles are the choice of transportation. Men in their buttoned shirts (almost always long sleeved) cruise around like harry potter on his stick.(what is it called? )
It’s not uncommon to see 3 men on one bike. Women side saddle behind their husbands covering their heads with their beautiful silk scarf while cradling their little babies in their bosom sleeping peacefully through the chaos.

Old me sit. That’s all I can tell they are doing. They sit alone with a wrap on their head and do nothing.

I like watching the cars as we go. Each one that passes has several faces I can stare at, and they stare right back! They love seeing American White people. If I wave their faces light up and they nudge their neighbor to look my way too.
Kids are quick to send a wave and the women are slow to make eye contact but once they do a loving smile emerges.
Trailers being pulled behind trucks are filled with people. It reminds me of hay rides in the Fall.

I often see men sprawled out on the ground dead asleep face down in the dirt, oblivious to the present moment of “LIFE” around them. At first I thought they were bums like we would see in NYC but I’ve realized it’s just an afternoon nap to escape the heat. They will plop over anywhere when it’s time for a snooze. Just like the need to bath, or pee. When it’s needed they do it.
There are no rules to life here. Everyone goes about their day trying to survive. To some that means they sleep all day in the shade, to others they are moving cattle or washing clothes to wear the next day. I wish I understood more.

Mud is everywhere. Trash is everywhere, unfinished buildings and makeshift shacks are everywhere.




The one thing that really puzzles me is how these smart clean people live in a disorganized filthy environment!
The men always have pressed and clean shirts The women are walking ordainments. They are covered heard to toe in amazing bright fabric with their hair always pulled into a braid. and the children wear freshly washed uniforms to school everyday! They look fantastic!
It floors me to see a gorgeous woman walk out of a mud, fly infested, hut and shop in the village that looks like a tornado wrecked havoc on it.

India has beautiful people. I don’t think India is beautiful