Category: good eats

The Power of Nothing

“Hey Karen, what are you going to do this weekend?”

“Nothing!”

True conversation held last Friday.

The last two and a half months have been nothing short of a rat race. Every weekend something was brewing.

Every. Weekend. Since May.

Most of the stuff was good. Traveling, dinner with friends and family, visiting newly born godbabies, etc.

Also, both The Good Man and I celebrated birthdays over that time span.

There was also some crap stuff, like moving out of our place for termite tenting.

Every weekend was a blur, non-stop, arriving back at work Monday more tired then when I’d left the previous Friday.

I’m a Taurus, and by nature, a bit of an at-home kind of girl. Bonding with the red couch is my sort of speed.

My Gemini love is more of a “let’s GOOOOO” sort of fellow.

So for us, it is about striking a balance.

Combine my natural tendency to lay about with a couple months of mistreatment at the hands of my employers, and you have Little Johnny Karen on the verge of something not pretty.

All work and no play makes Karen a very, very cranky girl.

And so, for the past two and a half months I have been plotting and planning a weekend that included zero plans with anyone other than me, the husband and the feline.

I had targeted this past weekend for some time and was a little bit cranky in defending it. We had no less than FOUR invitations to do something this weekend. All of which, we turned down.

Sure, that may make me a bad friend, but I have my sanity to consider.

So finally, the delicious weekend of July 18th arrived, and good for my word, I did nothing.

Ok, to be fair, I did a few things. Laundry. Landlord came to make some needed repairs. Ran a few errands.

But I also took a *nap* on both Saturday and Sunday. Oh delicious mouth watering naps.

I also made dinner for me and the cutest boy on Saturday night. Took the time and made a genuine homemade dinner! Imgaine that!

You know what else? I *read* a book. My god, it’s like vacation porn. I actually sat on my tush and READ A BOOK. Ay god. Makes me drool just remembering.

So as it will, Monday has returned to my life, but so far so good. I feel a bit rested, calmer, ready to take on the slings and arrows that will inevitably land my way.

Next weekend, it all begins again. Rev up the big machine and start running. Won’t see another break until September…*sigh*

My new motto: Do nothing. And do it *really* well!

P.S. and all those old fashioned “you must get up early and work hard!” because you think it makes you moral-and-just type of folks. To you, I say BAH!

P.P.S. And BAH! again!

Mua ha hahaha ah ah!

I have turned my minions into zombies! Zombies, I tell you!

I have shared with the minions my little addiction, and they have succumbed as have I, their mighty leader!

Oh yes.

See, while on road trip over the Fourth of July, in some forgotten town off of Highway 5, with snackies on my mind, I picked up two packs of these little beauties:

I took them and squirreled them into our car and I ATE them. Oh yes I did. Every one of them. I didn’t even offer one to The Good Man. I just ate ’em and ate ’em until they were gone.

Like that first hit off a crack pipe, I was done. I succumbed. First taste is free….then you’re gonna pay.

While devouring these nutty little heroin balls, I saw that the Pnuttles people had a website where they vend their product. Then, I thought…maybe I can save a couple bucks by ordering from Amazon.

To Amazon I went and YES! there they were. Only…it’s more complicated. I found the butter toffee almonds….but with *cinnamon* added. I didn’t even look at price, I one-click ordered those bad boys so fast your head would swim!

Oh my.

Last evening I arrived home from a difficult day at work to find that my precious had been delivered to the front door step. Yes!

I tore into the box like a wild animal to discover that I had purchased not one but TWO jars of my addiction. WHAT!?!?

Turns out I ordered 1 each of a two pack. Good lord.

The Husbandnator looked in askance (remember, at this point he was not yet a Pnuttles zombie), “we can’t eat all of those” he told me.

I shrank back, protecting my precious. But then cooler heads prevailed, and I realized he’s right.

“I’ll take one to work,” I replied.

That seemed reasonable, we agreed, then cracked open the jar we were keeping.

Husband took a few bites and declared “EVIL!”

Umm hmmm…..

We sat on the couch, feeding our addiction, watching who cares what on the television. Didn’t matter, only the constant crunch crunch of not-too-sweet delicious toffee almonds.

Today, I brought the other jar to work. I posted a note, “These are very addictive. Enjoy!”

That was twenty minutes ago and there is now a line of zombie minions coming to my door exclaiming “these are sooooo goooood”

Yup.

My Pnuttles army of zombies increases. We are unstoppable! (except for when the jar runs out and we all flop over in sugar coma)

Here’s where you too can succumb and become a member:

Link

Harumph!

I have doubts.

From my company’s cafeteria menu for Monday:

(and there is no green chile in that….HA-rumph!)

Inside the Blogger’s Head

: cue Inside the Actor’s Studio music :

We begin our interview with a series of questions first posed by Bernard Pivot. (Riffed off of a personality quiz called The Proust Questionnaire.)

Supposed to give insight into one’s personality and all that….

So here we go:

What is your favorite word?

Simpatico. You know it when you have it.

What is your least favorite word?

Any word spoken with a condescending intent.

What turns you on creatively, spiritually or emotionally?

Hearing a beautiful song, seeing a gorgeous sight (like an amazing painting), perfect lighting, something that is quite the pleasant surprise (like the discovery of apricots in my side yard), riding a horse, the laughter of any one of my godkids.

What turns you off?

People manifesting their deeply held insecurity on me. Shows up in lot of ways, none very fun.

What is your favorite curse word?

Just one? Man, my favorite curse word changes. Some days a good “oh balls!” will get it done. Sometimes an f-bomb is really necessary. Can I just say I love cursing, enjoy it immensely, and do my best to rein it in around my mother. Not always successfully.

What sound or noise do you love?

At AT&T Park, when the Giants win a game, they play the original Tony Bennett version of “I Left my Heart In San Francisco”. You’d think I would get tired of hearing it. I don’t.

Also, the sound of the garage door opening when my husband is coming home. Yippee!

What sound or noise do you hate?

Anything terribly high pitched. Like the backup sound on a garbage truck. It physically hurts.

What profession other than your own would you like to attempt?

Motivational speaker. I’m not kidding. I always wanted to travel around, giving presentations, getting people all fired up, helping them learn and change their lives. I absolutely adore giving presentations, especially when you have a great crowd eager to learn.

What profession would you not like to do?

Registered nurse. I am so much of an empath that I couldn’t get through the day. Human suffering just destroys me. Ok, animal suffering too, so this extends to vet techs as well.

I am way in awe of the people who do that work and do it well.

Whoa.

If Heaven exists, what would you like to hear God say when you arrive at the Pearly Gates?

Good job, kid. You get an A+.

Now get over to the barn. Bob Wills and the Texas Playboys are warming up. Plenty of cute cowboys to dance with. Oh, and they are serving homemade green chile chicken enchiladas for dinner.

And in heaven, calories don’t count.

Want some cheese to go with that whine?

Lord knows, I’ve been prone to giving over to a deep, hearty kvetch about living here in the Bay Area, and these marine layer weather patterns this Flower of the Desert must face.

Ok, fine, I own it.

However, today, I’m here to say that all the wet weather actually *does* have some benefits. Occasionally even *I* can find a place of gratitude for all of that goddamn rattin’ smattin’ essential rain.

See, The Good Man and I are renters, and as such, aren’t required to take care of our yard. Good thing, too…cuz we’d have grass a mile high.

My landlord and his son do yard work that’s mainly limited to cutting the grass every few weeks and chopping down nice trees that never did nothing to nobody. But that’s another story.

So over on the side of our humble abode, we have this:

It may be hard to see, but that’s a little spindly tree.

I mean…it’s pretty sad. Look at this puny little trunk:

What you should know about that little tree is that no one really does much of anything with it. We don’t water it. We don’t prune it. We hardly look at it. It’s just “that tree” over by where we store the trashcans.

I’ve occasionally photographed the tree when it puts on white flowers, working on my macro skills. But other than that, it goes totally ignored.

Well. This year, the little tree that decided to get noticed.

This year, that son-of-a-gun put on a crapload of fruit. Apricots.

I’ve lived here five years. That tree has never, not once, put on fruit. It would flower, halfheartedly, but that’s it.

For some reason, even in a fairly dry Bay Area winter, that little spindly tree got enough water and sun and nutrients to fill its skinny little boughs with fruit.

Wow.

And it’s tasty fruit too! VERY delicious. Boy, I do love a good juicy and tart apricot in the summertime.

I remember my college roommate’s mom would put up a fantastic apricot jam…that she’d serve on top of homemade biscuits. Oh my.

So ok, I whine. I jump up and down. I tantrum. I complain that I am a convection-cooled device (a human swamp cooler) finely tuned to the high desert and cannot possibly be expected to properly function in this humidity.

Then I bite into a ripe, juicy apricot and I think, “Hey, all that rain is not so bad!”