Over at Modern Molly Mormon, Madness Molly is starting a new monthly feature called "Book of You." Each month she will give us a letter of the alphabet, and we write a little bit about ourselves as related to that word. Eventually we'll have a whole alphabet's worth of qualities, and the idea is that we can later pass this on to our children to help them know us outside of just the "mom" role. I thought it sounded like a good idea, plus it gets me writing again. This month's letter is D.
The words my husband came up with were delicious, delectable, delightful, dainty, dizzying, dilly-dallying, and direct. I think dilly-dallying (though not actually a word) is probably the only accurate one.
Dominant
In a group setting, I often tend to dominate the conversation. I don't do it on purpose, it just happens. I just like talking.
Distracted
I am a very easily distractable person. I thought of this word because I just clicked over to my email to check it while in the middle of writing this. I think my distractability goes along with the aforementioned dilly-dallying.
Descriptive
Maybe this is a bit of a stretch, but when I'm telling a story or trying to explain something, I'm careful about finding the right words to describe the situation. It's even more pronounced when I write.
Dramatic
Yes, I can be a tad bit dramatic at times. Especially when I'm on the defensive. I tend to exaggerate, and my mom told me (more than once growing up) that I should win an Academy Award for my dramatic flair. Unfortunately, it wasn't a compliment.
Dorky
Just ask my sister. The two of us get together, and my husband heads for the opposite end of the house.
Domestic
This is part quality and part aspiration. I am quite domestic when it comes to the kitchen. I've also always been told I was good with children. The housekeeping part and the handicraft part are still more of an aspiration.
Depressed
I have dealt with mild depression in the past, and even been treated for it. It's not a constant state for me, and in fact, it's been four and a half years since I've really had an issue with it. But it's always there, lurking in my darkness.
Deliberate
This goes along with "descriptive" a little bit. I try to choose words carefully, and I try to mean what I say. I am far from being someone who never says something in anger, but I try to be careful, and I'm not very impulsive. In general.
Determined
I use to date a guy who repeatedly told me that I had "stick-to-it-ive-ness." Fortitude, determination. I don't believe that I do, but he and my mom do.
Divine
I am a daughter of God. I truly believe that. I have a divine nature.
Some D words that I am not:
Ditzy (only on occasion), dark, dreamy, diabolical, demanding (though perhaps my husband might argue with this one), doormat, daring, dull (never am I dull), demure, docile.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Thursday, October 23, 2008
Carving Jack
Creating a jack-o-lantern is much more than simply sticking a knife into the side of an orange squash. When you stand at the entrance to a pumpkin patch, you have only just begun the process. First you must comb the entire patch searching for the "perfect" pumpkin. It must have just the right shade of orange, and needs to be big enough to display a face on one side of it. Try not to pick a pumpkin with dirt crusted all over it, as that will diminish from the appearance of the final product. Make sure there is at least one side of the pumpkin that is clear and free of blemishes, as they will also detract from the expression of Jack at the end.
Once you have selected and purchased your pumpkin, take it home with you and begin the bonding process. You must befriend your pumpkin and become one with it. Set it on the dinner table and let it eat with you. (The idea here is not to make it think you're going to destroy it in a few days.) Set it out on your doorstep to greet your visitors. It will soon feel like a part of your family.
When you have decided that you are ready to carve the squash, bring it into the house and set it on the kitchen table or counter. Spread sheets of newspaper out so that the pumpkin guts don't get all over the place. Place Jack on the newspaper. He may be getting a little nervous at this point, so you might want to position him on some comics to put his mind at ease.
Now you'll want to gather your materials. You will need a pencil for designing, and two knives. Use a paring knife to make initial cuts through the tough outer layer. A plastic-handled childproof pumpkin-carving knife should be used for the majority of the cutting. You will also need a large metal spoon for scraping the inside of Jack. A cereal bowl will also be needed to separate the seeds into.
Draw a circle around the stem of the pumpkin. If you make it a perfect circle, be sure to leave notches in it so that you know exactly how to position it when you re-place it. Be sure that your circle is large enough that you can fit your fist inside of it. Take the paring knife and puncture the surface of Jack, somewhere along the line you have drawn. The skin will be tough, as Jack is trying not to cry. Gently push the knife all the way through the skin. Wiggle it back and forth in an attempt to make the cut wider (not longer). Pull the paring knife out and insert the special pumpkin-carving knife. Finish cutting the lid. To take the top off of Jack, you may need to pull hard, as the inside of it will be entangled with the rest of the stringy sliminess not visible from the outside. Using your paring knife, slice all the pulp off the top, and create a somewhat smooth surface. Set the top aside.
Put your hand inside Jack and begin gutting him. You will pull out mainly handfuls of seeds at first, which should be deposited in the cereal bowl. As you pull out the slimy insides, just place them on the newspaper until you are done. Be prepared to get stuff under your fingernails. When you have pulled out all you can with your hands, insert the metal spoon into Jack and begin scraping the walls. While this won't completely detach all the strings, it will weaken them enough to be able to then pull the rest off with your hands. Continue scraping and pulling until you can pull out no more. Be as thorough as possible, as you do not want a sloppy appearance at the end of your carving quest.
When you are finished scraping the insides of Jack, take the seeds to the sink and rinse them in a colander. Try to get all of the pulp off of them, so that you just have pure seed left. Shake handfuls of seeds off at a time and absorb the rest of the water with paper towels. Spread the seeds out on a cookie sheet, making sure there is only one layer of seed. Salt them generously. Bake them at 350o for 10 minutes. After the buzzer goes off, flip the seeds over (as well as possible – it's difficult) with a spatula and salt the other side. Place them back in the oven for 5-8 minutes. When they are done, they can be eaten right away, and are best when toasty right out of the oven.
Before you begin to cut a face in Jack, design his demeanor on a sheet of paper. Try several possibilities and pick your favorite. Draw the selected face on the clean side of the pumpkin. When you begin to cut it, you will use both knives. The paring knife will work better for small detail, whereas the special pumpkin knife will give you the security of not having to worry about slipping and messing up the face. When using the paring knife, be careful not to let this happen – it can slide through the skin easily and may slip past the point that you want it to stop.
When you have cut an entire piece and are ready to remove it, put your hand inside Jack and gently push the piece out from the inside. It may not be completely detached, so you may have to carefully cut it at the corners. Larger pieces – such as the mouth – will be harder to push out and may actually require both hands. When all your pieces are pulled out, get right down on Jack's level and check to make sure that none of the slimy pulp is hanging in view. It's tacky to look like he has goop in his eyes as if he just woke up or snot in his nose or as if he needs to brush his teeth. Clean him up on the inside – inner beauty is important.
Take a paper towel and wipe off the outside of Jack and his top. They will probably be wet and slimy from having guts all over them.
Take a small, unscented votive candle and place it in a candleholder in the bottom of the pumpkin. Put Jack's lid on him. Inserting a long match through Jack's mouth, light the candle. You now have a complete Jack-O-Lantern. Place him on your doorstep to greet trick-or-treaters. While Jack may be hurt inside because of your supposed friendship then betrayal, it won't show since he has a permanent smile on.
A week later you will begin to smell Jack and realize you need to get rid of him, since he has wilted and rotted. As you hold him over the trash can, you will look back fondly over the time you spent together and all the work you put into the big orange squash you are now about to send to the city dump.
Once you have selected and purchased your pumpkin, take it home with you and begin the bonding process. You must befriend your pumpkin and become one with it. Set it on the dinner table and let it eat with you. (The idea here is not to make it think you're going to destroy it in a few days.) Set it out on your doorstep to greet your visitors. It will soon feel like a part of your family.
When you have decided that you are ready to carve the squash, bring it into the house and set it on the kitchen table or counter. Spread sheets of newspaper out so that the pumpkin guts don't get all over the place. Place Jack on the newspaper. He may be getting a little nervous at this point, so you might want to position him on some comics to put his mind at ease.
Now you'll want to gather your materials. You will need a pencil for designing, and two knives. Use a paring knife to make initial cuts through the tough outer layer. A plastic-handled childproof pumpkin-carving knife should be used for the majority of the cutting. You will also need a large metal spoon for scraping the inside of Jack. A cereal bowl will also be needed to separate the seeds into.
Draw a circle around the stem of the pumpkin. If you make it a perfect circle, be sure to leave notches in it so that you know exactly how to position it when you re-place it. Be sure that your circle is large enough that you can fit your fist inside of it. Take the paring knife and puncture the surface of Jack, somewhere along the line you have drawn. The skin will be tough, as Jack is trying not to cry. Gently push the knife all the way through the skin. Wiggle it back and forth in an attempt to make the cut wider (not longer). Pull the paring knife out and insert the special pumpkin-carving knife. Finish cutting the lid. To take the top off of Jack, you may need to pull hard, as the inside of it will be entangled with the rest of the stringy sliminess not visible from the outside. Using your paring knife, slice all the pulp off the top, and create a somewhat smooth surface. Set the top aside.
Put your hand inside Jack and begin gutting him. You will pull out mainly handfuls of seeds at first, which should be deposited in the cereal bowl. As you pull out the slimy insides, just place them on the newspaper until you are done. Be prepared to get stuff under your fingernails. When you have pulled out all you can with your hands, insert the metal spoon into Jack and begin scraping the walls. While this won't completely detach all the strings, it will weaken them enough to be able to then pull the rest off with your hands. Continue scraping and pulling until you can pull out no more. Be as thorough as possible, as you do not want a sloppy appearance at the end of your carving quest.
When you are finished scraping the insides of Jack, take the seeds to the sink and rinse them in a colander. Try to get all of the pulp off of them, so that you just have pure seed left. Shake handfuls of seeds off at a time and absorb the rest of the water with paper towels. Spread the seeds out on a cookie sheet, making sure there is only one layer of seed. Salt them generously. Bake them at 350o for 10 minutes. After the buzzer goes off, flip the seeds over (as well as possible – it's difficult) with a spatula and salt the other side. Place them back in the oven for 5-8 minutes. When they are done, they can be eaten right away, and are best when toasty right out of the oven.
Before you begin to cut a face in Jack, design his demeanor on a sheet of paper. Try several possibilities and pick your favorite. Draw the selected face on the clean side of the pumpkin. When you begin to cut it, you will use both knives. The paring knife will work better for small detail, whereas the special pumpkin knife will give you the security of not having to worry about slipping and messing up the face. When using the paring knife, be careful not to let this happen – it can slide through the skin easily and may slip past the point that you want it to stop.
When you have cut an entire piece and are ready to remove it, put your hand inside Jack and gently push the piece out from the inside. It may not be completely detached, so you may have to carefully cut it at the corners. Larger pieces – such as the mouth – will be harder to push out and may actually require both hands. When all your pieces are pulled out, get right down on Jack's level and check to make sure that none of the slimy pulp is hanging in view. It's tacky to look like he has goop in his eyes as if he just woke up or snot in his nose or as if he needs to brush his teeth. Clean him up on the inside – inner beauty is important.
Take a paper towel and wipe off the outside of Jack and his top. They will probably be wet and slimy from having guts all over them.
Take a small, unscented votive candle and place it in a candleholder in the bottom of the pumpkin. Put Jack's lid on him. Inserting a long match through Jack's mouth, light the candle. You now have a complete Jack-O-Lantern. Place him on your doorstep to greet trick-or-treaters. While Jack may be hurt inside because of your supposed friendship then betrayal, it won't show since he has a permanent smile on.
A week later you will begin to smell Jack and realize you need to get rid of him, since he has wilted and rotted. As you hold him over the trash can, you will look back fondly over the time you spent together and all the work you put into the big orange squash you are now about to send to the city dump.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Ghosts
This post is my October entry in Scribbit's monthly Write-Away contest. It can be found here: A Ghostly Write-Away Contest.
******************************************************************************************
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
It was a random question. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard him ask it in the darkness. I mumbled something to the effect of “Of course not” and rolled over.
It was almost like he knew.
The next morning he was up and gone to work before I was awake. I was just about to head out the door to work when I saw the black and white car pull up to the curb. I was curious, so I met them at the door with my coffee in hand.
I really don’t remember what they said. Something about an accident, EMTs, and not being able to do anything. I remember one of the officers took my coffee from my hand. The other helped me to the couch. The rest of the day passed in a blur. I was told I would need to identify his body, though I didn’t know how I could look at him if it was really that bad.
What I really thought about over the next few days was the cruel irony of the person experiencing the most grief also having to do the most work to prepare for the funeral. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t sleep. I missed him, but I hardly realized at times that he was really gone. In the morning after I finally had slept for only a few hours, I woke up and it was like he was on a business trip. Then I saw the tissues on the floor and remembered.
He was gone. Forever.
I wanted to feel him near me. I wanted to smell him again. I wished I believed in ghosts. I wished he would haunt me.
But I didn’t. And he couldn’t.
********************
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
I don’t know why I asked it. Just a little silliness, really. She grumbled at me to go to sleep then rolled over. I kissed her shoulder then closed my eyes and fell asleep.
If only I’d known.
I was up early the next morning. I had a big meeting at work that day and wanted to finish a few things up at the office before going to it (for the entire day). I was gone before she even woke up, but I never made it to work.
I don’t really remember the accident. I don’t remember lying in the street. I was unconscious, and they pronounced me dead on the scene. I don’t think they even took me to the hospital. It was really bad.
I remember feeling displaced, though. No one could see me or hear me, and it was so surreal watching myself as they bagged my body and loaded it up. I went home.
The officers were there already. I couldn’t be there for her. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her close to me. I followed her around for the next few days. She couldn’t hear me. She couldn’t see me. She couldn’t smell me or feel me.
Finally the day of my funeral came. If I thought it was surreal before, I hadn’t seen nothing yet. I wanted to sit by her and comfort her, and tell her I was there, still there with her. Instead, I felt strangely drawn to the coffin. As I looked at my body, the draw began to feel more physical, not just the curiosity. When the funeral was over, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t follow her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
She was gone from me. Forever.
I wanted to feel her near me. I wanted to smell her again. I wished she believed in ghosts. I wished I could haunt her.
But she didn’t. And I couldn’t.
******************************************************************************************
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
It was a random question. I was just about to fall asleep when I heard him ask it in the darkness. I mumbled something to the effect of “Of course not” and rolled over.
It was almost like he knew.
The next morning he was up and gone to work before I was awake. I was just about to head out the door to work when I saw the black and white car pull up to the curb. I was curious, so I met them at the door with my coffee in hand.
I really don’t remember what they said. Something about an accident, EMTs, and not being able to do anything. I remember one of the officers took my coffee from my hand. The other helped me to the couch. The rest of the day passed in a blur. I was told I would need to identify his body, though I didn’t know how I could look at him if it was really that bad.
What I really thought about over the next few days was the cruel irony of the person experiencing the most grief also having to do the most work to prepare for the funeral. It wasn’t fair. I couldn’t think straight. I couldn’t sleep. I missed him, but I hardly realized at times that he was really gone. In the morning after I finally had slept for only a few hours, I woke up and it was like he was on a business trip. Then I saw the tissues on the floor and remembered.
He was gone. Forever.
I wanted to feel him near me. I wanted to smell him again. I wished I believed in ghosts. I wished he would haunt me.
But I didn’t. And he couldn’t.
********************
“Do you believe in ghosts?”
I don’t know why I asked it. Just a little silliness, really. She grumbled at me to go to sleep then rolled over. I kissed her shoulder then closed my eyes and fell asleep.
If only I’d known.
I was up early the next morning. I had a big meeting at work that day and wanted to finish a few things up at the office before going to it (for the entire day). I was gone before she even woke up, but I never made it to work.
I don’t really remember the accident. I don’t remember lying in the street. I was unconscious, and they pronounced me dead on the scene. I don’t think they even took me to the hospital. It was really bad.
I remember feeling displaced, though. No one could see me or hear me, and it was so surreal watching myself as they bagged my body and loaded it up. I went home.
The officers were there already. I couldn’t be there for her. I wanted to put my arms around her and hold her close to me. I followed her around for the next few days. She couldn’t hear me. She couldn’t see me. She couldn’t smell me or feel me.
Finally the day of my funeral came. If I thought it was surreal before, I hadn’t seen nothing yet. I wanted to sit by her and comfort her, and tell her I was there, still there with her. Instead, I felt strangely drawn to the coffin. As I looked at my body, the draw began to feel more physical, not just the curiosity. When the funeral was over, I couldn’t leave. I couldn’t follow her. I wanted to, but I couldn’t.
She was gone from me. Forever.
I wanted to feel her near me. I wanted to smell her again. I wished she believed in ghosts. I wished I could haunt her.
But she didn’t. And I couldn’t.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
First Kiss
This post is en entry in August's Write-Away Contest at Scribbit.
It had been a long eighteen hours. I’d been hooked up to all kinds of machines. I couldn’t go to the bathroom without five minutes of preparation. I didn’t sleep more than two hours that night. I’d been induced, even though my water had broken four weeks early. My body wasn’t quite doing everything the way it was supposed to. The induction failed, and they eventually wheeled me into the operation room and prepped me for a caesarean.
Within minutes, I couldn’t feel the lower half of my body. It’s a little scary not being able to even wiggle your toes. I was very sleepy, but awake.
They began the procedure, fifteen or so people all around me, one of them my husband. I felt the pressure as the scalpel cut into my skin. Moments later, I felt a release as my baby was lifted out of me. I couldn’t see her, as there was a curtain blocking my view, and I didn’t have enough control of my body to twist around and see behind me. I heard the first cry, and the nurse confirmed it was a girl. I felt relief that she was out, she was crying, and so far still safely in the room. I listened carefully, worried about her lungs. Her initial Apgar score was nine out of ten. Wow! They cleaned her off, wrapped her up, and gave her to my husband. He brought her around so I could see her, but I still hardly could as bundled up as she was. I didn’t need to right then. I was grateful to know that she was healthy.
I continued to drift in and out of sleep as I was stitched back up and moved to a recovery room. My baby was taken to the nursery. I slept for an hour or more while my husband called family. When I awoke, the nurse brought my baby to the recovery room for me to meet her while they waited for my permanent room to become available. She helped me sit up (the anesthesia was still wearing off), then she handed me my wrapped up bundle.
I looked down at her, all swaddled tight and fast asleep, and I gently kissed her cheek. It was the first kiss of many that I would give my daughter.
It had been a long eighteen hours. I’d been hooked up to all kinds of machines. I couldn’t go to the bathroom without five minutes of preparation. I didn’t sleep more than two hours that night. I’d been induced, even though my water had broken four weeks early. My body wasn’t quite doing everything the way it was supposed to. The induction failed, and they eventually wheeled me into the operation room and prepped me for a caesarean.
Within minutes, I couldn’t feel the lower half of my body. It’s a little scary not being able to even wiggle your toes. I was very sleepy, but awake.
They began the procedure, fifteen or so people all around me, one of them my husband. I felt the pressure as the scalpel cut into my skin. Moments later, I felt a release as my baby was lifted out of me. I couldn’t see her, as there was a curtain blocking my view, and I didn’t have enough control of my body to twist around and see behind me. I heard the first cry, and the nurse confirmed it was a girl. I felt relief that she was out, she was crying, and so far still safely in the room. I listened carefully, worried about her lungs. Her initial Apgar score was nine out of ten. Wow! They cleaned her off, wrapped her up, and gave her to my husband. He brought her around so I could see her, but I still hardly could as bundled up as she was. I didn’t need to right then. I was grateful to know that she was healthy.
I continued to drift in and out of sleep as I was stitched back up and moved to a recovery room. My baby was taken to the nursery. I slept for an hour or more while my husband called family. When I awoke, the nurse brought my baby to the recovery room for me to meet her while they waited for my permanent room to become available. She helped me sit up (the anesthesia was still wearing off), then she handed me my wrapped up bundle.
I looked down at her, all swaddled tight and fast asleep, and I gently kissed her cheek. It was the first kiss of many that I would give my daughter.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
Liner Notes
Random question from my Blogger profile:
You've broken up with your old band and are about to release your first solo album. Please write the liner notes.
I first of all want to thank all of my loyal fans throughout the years for all the support you've given me, especially in the last year. It's been a tough road, but very rewarding.
A few of the songs on this album came to me during the breakup and shortly after, but most of them have nothing to do with it, so don't read too much in. I've been writing songs in my head for longer than any of you have ever heard of me, and I finally have the opportunity to go forward with my dreams in this way, without the constraints of getting everyone together on a thing. That is why I've titled this album Freedom.
Freedom is choice. It's about what choices we will make, because we can. I have chosen to share with you my love of words and music.
You've broken up with your old band and are about to release your first solo album. Please write the liner notes.
I first of all want to thank all of my loyal fans throughout the years for all the support you've given me, especially in the last year. It's been a tough road, but very rewarding.
A few of the songs on this album came to me during the breakup and shortly after, but most of them have nothing to do with it, so don't read too much in. I've been writing songs in my head for longer than any of you have ever heard of me, and I finally have the opportunity to go forward with my dreams in this way, without the constraints of getting everyone together on a thing. That is why I've titled this album Freedom.
Freedom is choice. It's about what choices we will make, because we can. I have chosen to share with you my love of words and music.
The Bald Frog
Random question from my Blogger profile:
The children are waiting! Please tell them the story about the bald frog with the wig.
Once upon a time there was a handsome prince. He spent all day staring at himself in the mirror. So a witch put a spell on him that turned him into a bald frog. He wouldn't turn back into the handsome prince until a beautiful woman kissed him. When the prince looked at his reflection in the pond, he was sad, so he wore a wig every moment from then on. Alas, no woman ever came near the frog.
The children are waiting! Please tell them the story about the bald frog with the wig.
Once upon a time there was a handsome prince. He spent all day staring at himself in the mirror. So a witch put a spell on him that turned him into a bald frog. He wouldn't turn back into the handsome prince until a beautiful woman kissed him. When the prince looked at his reflection in the pond, he was sad, so he wore a wig every moment from then on. Alas, no woman ever came near the frog.
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