Herbs, Pigs and Green Cards...Oh My

This is yet another weekend gone too fast. After the rough week of work last week, it seems as though the weekend should rightfully have been longer but alas, I write this on the eve before another Monday, really wishing that somehow an extra day could simply be added to every weekend for everyone.

Nevertheless, Sunday evening it is and thus, the weekend is waning.

It's been a nice weekend though. I drove back to my parents. As has become an annual tradition, my mum and I went to the Wabash Herb Festival in Wabash, Indiana. Unlike last year, we had a lovely dry day. It was, as usual, a lot of fun. There's something completely relaxing walking around placed like that. It's fun to just look and see, poke a little fun at the Society of Creative Anachronism and just generally enjoy both the day and time with my mother. We both ended up with some small purchases- I got a new serving platter and a wall hanging and mum got a couple of plants and a few other bits to begin working on a miniature garden.

It was just a nice morning. We ended up exploring a little in Wabash too. They have a great pet store there that has pets for sale as well as pet stuff. I was quite charmed by the cute little potbellied pigs. I've always quite fancied having a little pet pig but when I pictured trying to explain to Sookie and Rory that yes, they might enjoy bacon but that doesn't mean little Wilbur is food, I decided against it. Also, I'm quite sure that my parents wouldn't be as willing to pig-sit as they are to dog-sit when I go away. They were very cute though and I enjoyed petting them. The pet store also had the largest pet rabbit I've ever seen. It was apparently only 8 weeks old and it was seriously already bigger than Sookie. Apparently, it can get up to 25 lbs. Pretty fascinating and slightly disturbing.

All in all, it was just a nice day. I love days where we have a rough plan but we can spend time just meandering around and discover new places.

Sunday has been a little less fun simply because I made a discovery that made me feel quite idiotic. My green card is expiring in less than a week. Normally, this wouldn't be a problem unless I travel. And, since I qualified for my free trip to London...I'm going to be traveling. This discovery led to a souring of my mood which I feel a little guilty about since I'm sure I wasn't fun for my parents to be around. Still, I filed online for a renewal and I'm going to call to see how I can go about getting a temporary renewal which I know is possible. It just makes me feel a little stupid since I was very careful to check my passport but, for some reason, I thought my green card expired next year. Silly me. Hopefully everything will work out for the best...It was just a bit of a shock even if it was my own fault.

Still, in spite of that, I had a fun weekend and I was sad to leave my parents to return to the normalcy of my routine. My mother is actually going to the UK on Wednesday so I won't see/talk to her for a while. I'm hoping my dad will come down to visit which will be nice- it's always fun to have one-on-one time with both parents.

So, even though the weekend is coming to a close, it hasn't been wasted. Then again, it's hard to waste a weekend. Although it's back to the grind tomorrow, it's definitely nice to know that in five days, the weekend will be here again. It's the time in between that can be a little tricky but this is the start of a new week full of new hope. Let's hope it's a little better than last week. Even if it's not, I have a good weekend behind me to keep me going.

I like it when life is good.

Happy Monday!

The Snap, Crackle and Pop of an Extra Long Weekend...

It's a very sticky 4th of July evening. The humidity is pressing close and the heat seems magnified by the close air.

At present, I'm sitting outside. Even though it's hot and humid, it's not altogether unpleasant and it seems right to write this outside. Occasionally, I'm hearing the odd pop of a firecracker. I don't know if there will be more fireworks later tonight or if my neighbours got them out of their systems over the weekend. All I know is that from Friday night through Sunday night, I had two alert dachshunds who were a little afraid of all the bangs and whizzes coming from local firework lighters.

It's been a nice weekend. Mother Monkeypants came down to stay and we had a very nice time. The wonderful thing about my mother is...well, she's my mother. We can do something or nothing and be very happy. We ended up doing some things but we also ended up just relaxing which I think is the best way to spend time with someone you love.

She left not too long ago and the house seems empty as it always does after a guest leaves. THe pups seem a little lost too. All weekend, they've had their choice of laps and attention and now they're back to just me.

It seems strange that we have to go back to work tomorrow. It makes sense, of course. It'd be greedy to expect more than a three day weekend but it seems so...anticlimactic to have a holiday and then...boom, right back to work. Yet it's the way of the world and so off tomorrow, to work I shall go.

On the plus side, it's only a four-day work week so I won't complain. It's only four more days until the next weekend. That's definitely not a bad trade off.

As I write, aside from the odd snap, crackle and pop of fireworks, the neighbourhood seems quiet. I think lots of people must be away for celebrations. My family sometimes has a gathering over the 4th even though, technically, as Brits, we're not exactly Independence Day celebrators. Yet, it's a good excuse to get everyone together.

This year, I had the luxury of having my mum come and stay and my siblings spent their holiday with their family. It's actually nice to spend a holiday like this in my own home as much as I like seeing everyone get together. It's been two years officially since I started to move into this house and I spent the long weekend painting my living room a shade of cranberry red. This weekend, I planted a tree, shopped, cooked and spent the time hanging out with my mother. I feel like I've come a long way.

The firework sounds are getting a little more constant and a little less sporadic. I think as darkness starts to fall, the sounds will intensify. My guess is that I will have two little dogs cowering inside, woofing at each crack and pop. I might stick my head out and see if I can see any fireworks but I haven't decided yet. It's been that kind of weekend where it's been nice to play things by ear and not have a firm plan. While it's nice to be organized, there's something to be said from being spontaneous and unplanned.

Whether or not I decide to look for fireworks tonight, I plan on relaxing and enjoying the last waning hours of a fun, extra-long weekend. I hope you, too, make/made the most of it.

Happy July 4th and happy Monday!

Focusing on the Small but Positive Things on a Bad Day At Work

Some days just fight against positivity. This is one of them. My small pleasure for the day that I’m focusing on is that I get to leave work and go home. It’s not much but it’s definitely seeing the positive in a vast array of negativity.

It was just one of those days. If something could go wrong, it did. I’m not going to bore you with the details because, well, I don’t want to bore you with the details. It was just the type of day where I found myself wanting to hide in the bathroom in case that made it get better or I just kept counting down until I got to go home.

I’ve had days like this before. I’m sure you have too. They’re unavoidable. Even when you try very, very hard to stay happy and positive and tell yourself that ‘this too shall pass’ and ‘well, it could be worse,’ it’s hard to remember that when the next annoyance occurs.

The nice thing is that this type of day will pass and it could be MUCH worse. It’s nothing that can’t be solved by going home, scooping up a dachshund and hugging her, making something good for dinner and drinking a glass of wine.

The trouble is that while you’re at work and the domino effect of frustration is in full-swing, it’s all you can do to not put your head down on your desk and either weep with frustration or beat your forehead against the desk repeatedly. Either way, you’re going to look strange to coworkers.

I didn’t do either. Instead, I focused on the fact that the day would be over eventually and tomorrow would be a whole new day.

Also, it wasn’t all bad. Despite the fact that my one candidate I had to interview today got lost on the way here and was almost an hour late which really screwed up my schedule…he was a nice guy and I was glad I got to meet him.

I suppose it’s all about seeing the sunshine instead of all the clouds it’s shining through. It’s all about perspective. My bad day was a haze of rejections and mistakes but in that, there were things I did right as well.

It goes back to what I’ve been saying all week. It’s all about the small things. If I focus on the small positives, the day doesn’t seem quite so bad.

In my case getting to go home is the biggest ‘small’ positive. Yet the day had a few others of those. I got to make a terrible “That’s what she said,” joke and have my coworker walk away, rolling her eyes. I got to leave my Diet Coke out of the fridge all day and enjoy it’s room temperature-ness at the end of the day. (Yes, I find that a big positive).

And then there are the non-work things that helped me get through the day. The fact that I’m going to make salmon with asparagus, sautéed spinach and a baked potato for dinner is a positive thing. The fact that the “Top Chef: All Stars” reunion is on tonight and the start of “Top Chef: Masters” is another. The fact that I can call my mother to complain about my bad day and know that she’ll listen, sympathize and be there for me is a big ‘small’ positive.

Finally, the fact that no matter how bad the day is, it’s never enough to make me hate my job and not want to come back tomorrow. That’s a HUGE small positive.

So, what it really comes down to is do I want this day to defeat me or will I conquer it and start it all over tomorrow?

I think that answer is pretty obvious. That, in itself, is the biggest small positive of all.

Happy Thursday!

Early Snow...the Joy and the Guilt....

I made a mistake last night.

I made the mistake of talking to the puppies about what would happen when it snowed.

To top it off, I wore one of my snowflake necklaces today.

This may not seem like a big deal to most people but when you're a Monkeypants in possession of a dire love of snow, it's a dangerous thing indeed.

It's only November. As much as I love snow and the comfortable cosiness of the things associated with it, even I know that it's too early. Only yesterday I was mocking the giant inflatable Santa Claus down the street from my house.

Now, it seems, even though not-so-deep-inside, I'm eager for snow, we could have snow by the weekend.

For me, this is quite a delightful idea. After all, I'm the type of Monkeypants that adores the white stuff. I don't care if it's early. I only care that it's the real thing and not some slimy sleet that only wishes it were snow.

However, while I love the wintery precipitation, I'm not deluded enough to expect everyone to agree with me.

Thus, since it's only November 3rd tomorrow, it seems that there is snow in our forecast. By Friday, we should expect raw, cold temperatures that promise precipitation. If we get the precipitation, it's likely to be wet snow.

Naturally, being the winter-loving Monkeypants I am, this sets off certain interior cartwheels/songs of joy within me.

Yet, also being the sympathetic, empathetic Monkeypants I am, I can hear the groaning and moaning of my mother's anti-winter bones curling themselves up into a fetal position as we speak.

Personally, I can't wait. I made my puppies coats a few weeks ago as I mentioned on this blog. Thus, once we start getting temperatures that are below freezing, I still expect my little pups to don their coats and go walking in a winter wonderland with me.

Yet, the realist in me protests. Perhaps it is too early. Perhaps the beginning of November is too early for snow.

The sad thing is, I just can't tell anymore. I've lost my sense of the seasons to my sense of what I love most about the seasons. I love this transition period. I loved how Autumn suddenly slapped the hand of Summer and said "no more," as it made the leaves finally tumble from the trees and the nights to grow cold. I love how Autumn has to give way to winter with the spirit of balmy days that are interlaced with frozen nights that stunt the growth and progression of anything until spring.

I know I'll love it when Winter has it's ice-cold grip on us but Spring sneaks in and says, "look, you can be as frigid as you want but during the day, I'm taking control" and, slowly, her magic works and there are crocus, daffodil and hyacinth shoots peeking through the frozen earth.

Yet there's a long way to go until then. In the meantime, it's still Autumn with only a hint that snow looms. Nevertheless, the hint is strong enough that I'm already being blamed for the potential frozen precipitation.

My problem is that I love snow. In my former days, I had a dachshund named Sausage who would help me bring upon snow by our ritual dance. In my newer days, I have a dachshund named Sookie who can also help me do the dance but she's yet to realize the consequences of her infectious joy. In addition, my mother gave me a snowflake necklace that seemed to bring on the weather whenever i wore it.

This year, I haven't yet worn that necklace but I have another snowflake which, I confess, I wore today. It's not as fancy nor as obvious but given that snow was predicted by Frank Mazullo and Fox 19 Stormtracker weather, it seems to be quite as effective.

I admit, the joyous part of me that enjoys frolicking in the snow, that enjoys the frozen tundra of winter is happy that this weekend could be the start of the ice-laced season.

Yet, the realistic part of me, the part that will always be tied, invisibly, to my mother who I love beyond words, knows that it IS too early. It's only the first week of November. Winter doesn't officially begin until December 21st. A few weeks ago I was complaining that Summer was being greedy by trying to infringe her heat and warmth on Autumn's territory. Now, it seems. Autumn is getting the shaft again because Winter is being slightly greedy and wanting to speed things along.

I have to admit, the idea of a wintry covered sidewalk adust with snow doesn't exactly make me unhappy yet the nature of my personality is that I care about others. I know my mother and other winter- despising humans are definitely not ready for snow.

Yet, no matter how I feel or try to feel, the fact is there's snow in the forecast for this weekend. I just want to go on the record and say that it was NOT my fault. Sure, I wore one of my pendant necklaces and I described it to my puppies but this doesn't mean it's my fault.

Of course, if I decide to wear the official necklace and do the offical, "Snow, Sookie!, Snow!" dance, that's another story.

I'll keep you posted. It won't happen for a while, mum...I promise.

Happy Wednesday!

Friends and Mothers....

I promise not to wallow today. I can't lie and say that the self-doubt is gone but thanks to good friends and a great mother, I'm feeling a little less like a failure and a little more like a human.

I'm lucky that way. I have people to talk to when I feel down. I've never been much of a socialite. My social circle has always consisted of a few very good friends and some casual friends who I know but don't know well.

I've always been the type of Monkeypants to prefer quality over quantity. When I was a child, I had a best friend and other good friends I knew but although I was always invited to birthday parties, I never felt like I was likely to become a fan of being with the 'in-crowd'.

That carried through to high school. For the first couple of years, my crowd of friends consisted of quiet, shy girls like me who never felt like they completely fit. We had fun- some of my favourite memories of my early high school days are of playing Uno and eating ice-cream sandwiches. As high school passed, my circle of friends changed a little. We all moved in different directions. It's sad but that's high school. It never meant I forgot those friends, it just meant that we were no longer jigsaw puzzle pieces that fit together- we'd morphed into pieces that were from the same puzzle but from different corners.

College was the same. I had a close circle of friends throughout. Sometimes the members changed but I still always had people to talk to, people who would talk to me.

These days, it's not much different- it's just that my friends are scattered. Some, via Facebook, are my earliest friends from my childhood days. Some are high school friends who are always there for me, no matter how long ago we sat in Mrs. Studebaker's English class and laughed at the fact that she said "eggo" instead of "ego."

Some are newer friends, friends I've made in my 'adult' years. I've always been lucky enough to find good friends with whom I have a lot in common and, like me, see the need to appreciate the goofier things in life.

It's these friends I appreciate most because they're the ones who pick me up when I'm down. I can't go without giving a shout-out to Saz in Washington for being there, even when her own life is dark and scary at the moment. And, Ms. P in Texas- I love that you read my blog, I love that I have my puppies because you persuaded me to make getting a dog one of my New Year's resolutions. The other friends out there, reading....I don't need to name you but...thank you.

Since it's Mother's Day on Sunday, I can't go on without mentioning my very best friend- cheesy as it sounds. My mum hates sappiness. She was born in Germany and raised in England so it's not exactly odd that she feels that way. But, at the risk of making her cringe, my very best friend in the world is my mum. No matter how mean I get, how crotchety I am, how much I waffle on and on...and on and on about my puppies...she's always there. When I'm feeling down about writing, she gets indignant on my behalf because she reads library books and lately seems to have been comparing them all to The Reluctant Demon. I love that she always thinks my books are better. I love that I can go home for a weekend and have a moan about my life to her and she always listens. I love that I can take a picture of flowers in my garden and ask her to identify them- she usually does.

Most of all, I'm just glad I have a mother who I can talk to and whine to when I'm down. I can't believe she hasn't hung up on me yet when I get snappy on the phone with her but she never does...unless those mysterious hang-ups when we get 'disconnected' and she has 'no idea what happened' mean she's hanging up on me. Just kidding- she always calls me back.

So, even though I'm still doubting my ability and my skills, I'm not in such a dark place I can't turn around and see that even in spite of the writing, I'm very lucky in my life. I have people who care enough to try to stop me giving in to my self-pity. I also have people who read my blog and make me feel like I'm not just a voice on the wind...someone is reading. For that, I thank you all.

For now, I'll keep the blog going...after all, I always have something to say, no matter how random. It's what makes my blog...my blog

Happy Friday and to all you mothers out there- be it mothers of children, Monkeypants, puppies, pigs, dogs, cats, characters or ideas....Happy Mother's Day.

Rain, Quiche and a Monkeypant's Mother's Day

Today is another gloomy day; I don't think we're going to see the sun at all. However, the storms have passed, with only the lingering chance of a shower remaining.

I'm trying not to notice the effect that the rain is having on my lawn but I'm noticing that when I pull into my garage after work, I'm looking to see how much it's grown. Growing means mowing.

I have noticed I have a new pet bunny though. Every evening, he sits in the same spot of my back lawn and has a nibble. Last night, he actually came onto my patio. When I looked out, I noticed he'd bought a friend who was leaning against the fence where the yappy neighbour dogs normally bark, as if keeping a lookout for them.

I'm hoping the bunnies aren't eating my green tomatoes. Something is and it's not making me happy. Normally, by now, they'd be red tomatoes but our influx of rain is keeping the tomatoes green. The nice thing is that I'll hopefully be able to eat them later in the year than normal. As long as they stop disappearing.

The scariest part of all of this is that I'm noticing how domestic I'm sounding. I'm not used to that. We apartment dwellers fake domesticity; we dabble but it's hard to truly 'nest' because we have to keep a constant awareness of what damage we're 'allowed' to do to our apartments. As a homeowner, it's quite a different story. I've been celebrating by putting all manner of holes in the walls. I've put quite a few pictures up just because I can.

Last night, I decided to cook my first actual 100% homemade dish. I've been cooking dinner but it's been things like frozen pizza and salad, stuff that's easy. I made a quiche.

I didn't know I liked quiche until a couple of weeks ago when I went to Comic-Con. I tried a bit of my friend's when she ordered it for breakfast and it was like an epiphany. I had found something new that had never appealed to me before and now, suddenly, it was delicious.

That's pretty much how the food in my life has been. As a child, I was a horribly picky eater. I feel bad for that now because I had one of the good mothers who wouldn't say "Eat what I cook or go hungry." Instead, she'd substitute things for me, things she knew I'd eat. I never liked mashed potatoes and am still not a huge fan but at least now I will eat them. As a child, my mum would make me a baked potato in the microwave instead, just so I didn't miss out.

The one thing I always feel horribly about, even now, is my mum's mincemeat dinner. As a Brit, mincemeat is a pretty common meal. Basically, we take ground beef, spice it and add stuff, brown it in a pan, add some gravy and serve it with mashed potatoes. It's the same sort of thing that goes in Shepard's Pie but a little runnier with the gravy. We used to have it with noodles which I think is a little bit of the German side of my family coming in.

Anyway, mum would make mince, as we called it, and I never ate it. I ate around it. I'd eat the noodles and the peas that went with it. I'd eat the gravy but I never liked the mince. Yet, on weekends, we'd get to go to my granny's and she, too, would make mince. Except....for her, I'd clean my plate. I ate every bit of my mincemeat and often would have seconds. Nowadays, I feel a wee bit guilty about that because it wasn't so different to my mother's and yet because granny cooked it, I'd eat it. For what it's worth, mum....I'm sorry.

The ironic thing is I make my own mincemeat dish now now. I'm still not as keen on the meat. I'd rather have gravy with a little meat than have meat with a little gravy. Yet it's one of those dishes that my mother, my sister and I have all seperately fed to friends and family and each time, they clean their plates because they enjoy it. I suppose that's as close to 'passing on the family recipe' as we've ever come. It's a nice feeling though.

Mincemeat isn't the only dish I've learned to accept as I get older. Nowadays, I'll try many, many things which I previously scorned as "vile" and "revolting". Quiche is apparently one of them. My first attempt involved spinach, Canadian bacon and fresh sage. I have to say, it was actually pretty good considering I'd never made one before. I even made the pastry. Apparently, that's quite unusual because when I told my coworkers, they were all "Wow, really? You're ambitious." The thing is, the pastry was the easiest part. I didn't even have to use a recipe: I just called my mother who is now, in my opinion, the Pastry Queen because, let me tell you, her instructions were perfect. My pastry was light, tasty and didn't overpower the quiche because I rolled it out thinly.

This blog is turning out to be a bit of a tribute to my mother. That was unplanned. However, why not? Just because Hallmark has scheduled Mother's Day for May, doesn't mean I can't make my own Mother's Day. So, hey, mum, if you're reading this, thanks for everything. Thanks for not hanging up on me when I use you as my verbal punching bag when I'm stressed, thanks for all the asparagus you gave me this year. Thanks for always lifting Sausage onto the sofa even though we know he's capable of getting up there on his own. And, most of all, thanks for teaching me to cook, dad might be fancy but your food is always the stuff I crave.

So, I'm making today Monkeypants' Mother's Day. To my mummy-Monkeypants, you're the best. I'd give you a piece of my quiche but, unfortunately, by the time you get it on Friday, it might be nasty. But it's the thought that counts, right?

To my other readers, sorry I'm a little random again today. Sometimes I just have to go where the blog takes me. Thanks, as always for reading. I appreciate you all.

Happy Wednesday.