“Winnowing” is fun to say. Notice how your lips and tongue move when you shape the word? Notice how it’s soft all the way through? Yes, these are the type of things that fascinate me. I will often say words like this more than once just for the physical sensation of the pronunciation.

I’m sure there’s a word for that.

Anyway, it’s a good word. It’s important to winnow through things… and it fits right in with my “declutter” theme of 2012.

I took something like 500 pictures last Friday night of my Mom’s band – Soul City Cowboys.

These folks come in and just have fun dancing. They're totally unselfconscious and even though it's not the kind of dancing I normally do, they don't look bad. I want to be like them when I grow up.

Of those 500-odd pictures, about 30 or so turned out.

Others are here, if you want to see them. Also – they’re a really fun band, if you happen to live in Missoula or the surrounding area and feel the need to to go out some night!

I had a lot of fun playing around with my manual settings to take these shots. I used to know how to use them all, but in the years where I didn’t have a digital slr I didn’t get a chance to practice. One of my goals this year is to relearn all of that stuff.

My dictionary defines quiescence (isn’t that a lovely word? It’s calming just to say it) as “calm, dormancy, inaction, inactivity, quiet, rest.” Heh.

Ahem.

A still life. By Munchkin.

In other areas of my life the decluttering proceeds. My bedroom is clean! I cleaned the window sills even! I’ve always felt that window sills just get super gross, but they aren’t cleaned very often because they’re a pain to clean. I have conquered them. This time, at least.

Munchkin has taken to taking pictures. Before I got my Rebel T1, I used a little lumex point and shoot. The lens got scratched, which precipitated the new camera buying situation, but the old one has just been hanging around the house. We recently let Munchkin start taking pictures and he’s enjoying that.

One corner of our living room. The Christmas decorations were still up. By Munchkin.

He’s got an eye for it, don’t you think?

About four or five years ago, I was doing some reading about depression. I ran across a link that talked about Bipolar syndrome. According to that article most people that are diagnosed as Bipolar are the folks with the classic symptoms. They swing wildly up and down and are clearly having some issues. But there’s another, less well known version of the condition, called Bipolar II. The mood swings are lesser. They’re harder to distinguish from regular mood swings because they’re more subtle and can last for longer periods of time, thus masquerading as regular emotions.

Water fountain in the Detroit Airport. The jets of water arc over a stone pedestal, falling precisely into small holes that funnel the water back to the pumps below.

I’ve never been to a doctor to have this formally diagnosed, but I’m fairly sure that I display the symptoms of a Bipolar II person. I have an aunt that has been diagnosed as Bipolar I, and a cousin with some serious depression issues as well, so I don’t think it’s entirely out of the realm of possibility that I too, have some sort of imbalance. The article I read about it said that Bipolar I is rarely medicated effectively, and that Bipolar II is nearly impossible, so it just hasn’t seemed like something I’ve ever wanted to pursue. (And I don’t mean this to sound like I only read one article and took it as the gospel… I didn’t… but pretty much everything I read gave me the same information.)

The fountain has a preset program. Occasionally it goes completely still and the water stills to a mirror finish.

Still, it makes life difficult sometimes, and this weekend I felt like my brain was going a million miles a minute. (I’m pretty sure this is why people drink or smoke pot.) It’s very hard to slow down and just. not. think. at times. This is a big reason why I’m determined to practice relaxation this year.

When the water show begins again, it shoots tiny amounts of water across... little streams of liquid floating through the air.

Running helps. It helps a lot. And I’m committing to running the Snow Joke Half Marathon with a friend of mine. Even if I have to walk the last few miles, the discipline aspect will be very good for me.

When the show ends, it simply runs quietly for a while. There were many, many people that stayed and watched the fountain during the two hours I sat near it.

What relaxation techniques do you use? I find an activity works best for me… playing piano or running or sewing. Somehow the act of focusing manages to quiet my brain!

Whatever.

I’ve always felt that the point of a New Year’s resolution is to fundamentally change something about yourself. “Loose 40 pounds,” really translates to: “Redefine my physical shape and feel better about myself while doing so, gaining healthy self-esteem and a more in-shape physique.”  Doesn’t that sound better?

Re-re-re-decorating the tree... we were quite into it this year!

Maybe it’s just me (although I flatter myself that the three people who’ve decided to emulate the “themed idea” aren’t “just me”)… but I find a “theme” to be more encompassing and ultimately more guiding than a resolution.

We think we have to quit resolutions the first time a potato chip passes our lips or we forget to go to the gym. Once something like that happens we’ve already failed. End game. End of story.

A theme though – that means we pick ourselves right back up and get back on the treadmill. We start again. We redefine ourselves. And THAT my friends, is what a New Year’s (or any time of the year’s) theme should be all about.

I don’t mean don’t set a goal… that’s important. But it should be part of your guiding theme… not the end all itself.

So all this having been said, my themes this year are Relaxation, Decluttering, and Minor Self-Improvement. The last one usually seems to get folks chuckling so I have to explain it a bit. I’ve got my stuff to work on, oh boy do I ever, but really the big thing I want to do this year is learn to relax, and that’s a big chunk of improvement right there.

One big reason for all the holiday stress this year... building this play kitchen. It still isn't quite done and there's a few things to add, but it was at least play and photo worthy on Christmas morning!

I’m a big believer in the Universe hitting you over the head with things. Right after I came back from Detroit I was a huge, snappish, tensed up ball of stress. (I can’t ever think of anything but Elaine saying “Snappish!” in Ally McBeal whenever I say snappish.) It takes a lot of me to relax and de-stress… I don’t have an easy time of it. Everyone suffers because of it.

The week of Solstice/Yule/Xmas I found myself running into a lot of messages saying “slow down, relax, destress!” I suspect I’ll end up writing a lot more on this subject later, but suffice it to say that I’m trying to listen to the Universe in a big time way.

Decluttering plays into the Relaxation theme a bit… I hate it when things aren’t decently organized – they don’t have to be perfect – but wading through stuff isn’t exactly a decompression exercise for me. We have a lot of stuff that has accumulated over the  years for various reasons and I want to get. rid. of. it.

We have a First Night celebration here in Missoula and we took the Munchin to ride real ponies at Caras Park (this one's name is Molly)...

And lastly – I don’t think you shouldn’t ever not want to improve yourself, but last year was intensely about me, my stuff, my thing. This year, it’s about my family and how I can improve myself in that framework.

...and then to ride the carved ones at the Missoula Carousel! Although this "pony" is shaped just a little bit strangely.

I do have goals and maybe I’ll talk about those in the next post for the public declaration aspect of them… I’ve always been taken with the “30 before 30″ lists (I’m 28) and so this year I kind of have that in mind as well… but for now…

Relaxation.

Two days down. I’m not succeeding all that well yet. But I don’t have to quit.

364 days to go!

Munchkin is turning two in just a few short weeks... it's hard to believe how much my little cream cheese face has grown.

My hotel, at night, in a snowstorm.

Detroit is odd. Technically, I’m not even in Detroit… I’m in Romulus. My first “real” view of civilization here was a strip of concrete and lots of flashy lights. I haven’t seen much of this city, nor am I likely to. I’m here on a training mission (both to train and to be trained) for my new job and it doesn’t leave a lot of free time. It’s kind of sad. I have the feeling it would be an interesting place to get to know.

It’s not terribly surprising. After all, November hosts the biggest food extravaganza in the United States. But that’s not really why it’s been on my mind.

Prepping our Thanksgiving apple/ cranberry/ pineapple/ pecan/ marshmallow dessert salad! It's a family friend's recipe and it's a Thanksgiving must have.

I grew up in an Italian family. Food isn’t just a way of life for us… it’s a religion. We go to my Uncle’s home each summer for a weekend… and each summer we look forward to the huge lasagna he makes. (He doesn’t just make lasagna. But we do look forward to it every time we go over there. Oh man my Uncle’s cooking is good.) When my Mama’s family gets together there’s something going on the stove or in the oven.  Holidays don’t feel right if there’s not something bubbling over, if we’re not all crammed in the kitchen, if we’re not sending non-cooking people running for the outside air to cool off because the temperature is climbing along with our spirits and the rolls in the oven.

I spend hours poring over recipes and in the kitchen. (Although you wouldn’t know it from this blog!) There’s a lot of complicated this and that’s and mix it this way out there. But here’s my mantra: Good food is good ingredients – made simply. Our recipes include a good dash of love and a whole lot of feeling.

Pumpkin pie at Thanksgiving!

The act of sitting down at the table with people you care about, with good, wholesome food that you’ve prepared with love isn’t just an act of fueling your body. It’s not just mechanical bite chew swallow. It’s an act of sustenance. It feeds your soul and heart as well as your body.

Munchkin has gotten very interested in what I’m doing in the kitchen. I was thinking he was just being fussy about wanting to be held while I was cooking. Nope… this little boy wants to be in the middle of the action.

Putting basil on the pizza.

We made pizza a couple of weeks ago and he was in on the action from beginning to end. We washed veggies, sliced them (Mama did this part veeeeeeerrrrrry slooooowwwwwllllyyy… ), stretched out pizza dough, covered it in sauce, cheese and veggies, and watched the cheese bubble through the oven door. I especially enjoyed the part where he carefully taste-tested each and every veggie and cheese slice before placing it on the pie.

It was a blast cooking with my kid. It took a little longer… true. It takes a bit more patience. But when dinner was served, he chowed down on his slice with a bit more gusto than normal.

I took it into my head two months ago that I wanted to make him a play kitchen for Christmas… it’s under construction now. I’ve gotten a lot of guff for it – a play kitchen for a boy?! I answer – why not?!  I was worried that he wouldn’t play with it, but not after the pizza episode. I’m a little obsessed with the details right now… it will make an appearance in the next couple of weeks, I’m sure.

First drumstick. I love how attentive Kira is.

If my kid only learns one thing from me, I hope he learns how much power and influence there is in a simple mirepoix. I hope he recognizes the taste of place in a sun-warmed, just-picked cherry tomato. I hope he lights up with the sweet-tart balance of an apple pie. And oh my stars do I look forward to taking that journey with him.

My birthday is on Thursday. I was a Thanksgiving baby, and once again my birthday is coming full circle to land on Thanksgiving again. Out of curiosity, I just looked up how often this happens (because it’s not every 7 years like clockwork) and found this link… pretty interesting!

I took a Reeses Peanut Butter Cup into work with me. I don’t know why I idly glanced at the ingredients list as I pulled it out, but I did. Heaven knows candy is never considered healthful, and the combination of sugar and processed stuff in it is why I normally limit myself. But I do try to at least have a good idea of what I’m putting into my body, so when I saw TBHQ listed at the end of the ingredients list, I thought “What is that?” and promptly did a google search.

Turns out, it’s a preservative… a form of butane - you know… the lighter fluid? – and it’s allowed in concentrations of 0.02% in relationship to the oils of the food it’s in, because  ”at higher doses, it has some negative health effects on lab animals, such as producing precursors to stomach tumors and damage to DNA.”

Lovely.

Google it if you dare. I just linked to Wiki… but there’s more information all over the web about it, like here at Natural News. And it’s in lots and lots of different foods that we eat.

I'm going to win the bad mom of the year award in the future. Munchkin is never getting standard-fare Halloween candy. Ever.

I like to think I eat healthy. I like to think that I largely choose foods that are non-toxic to my family. Really though, I’m just like anyone else… I do what I can each day, and sometimes I fall off the bandwagon. Sometimes I’m a little too complacent for too long, and I think “It’s okay if we eat something like this… just this once, it’s not like we’re eating it all the time.” And while I don’t feed my family Velveeta and corn dogs for dinner every night, sometimes I’m tired. Sometimes we opt to go out to eat instead of me cooking. Sometimes I don’t want to make three grocery store stops to get the best price and the best option. And the crackers and the candy and the “fake” additives creep in. And then something like this happens and I get all fired up again about our food and what is in it and what shouldn’t be in it.

Well and so.

So in honor of my rediscovered drive to eliminate stuff like this from our diets… here’s a new recipe for you.

As unappetizing as my lights make this look, it's actually very, very good.

Quinoa Persimmon Salad

Serves 4

Ingredients:

• 1/2 Cup uncooked quinoa
• dash of salt
• 1 persimmon
• 1 mango
• 1/2 cup slivered almonds
• 1/2 cup dried sweetened cranberries
• 1/2 Tbs cinnamon

Cook the quinoa. I heat the quinoa with one cup water & a dash of salt over medium heat until boiling. Cover the pot and remove from heat or turn to low until fully cooked.

Peel your mango and persimmon. Dice into 1/2 in. cubes. 

Toast the slivered almonds. I do this in a toaster oven at 350 degrees until they just start to turn brown on the edges. Pull immediately.

Toss the fruit, quinoa, and cinnamon in a large bowl. Serve. 

Enjoy!

One thing that came up in the chapters I read today was the subject of joy and how we know when we are joyful. Actually, the author doesn’t answer that question, but she does propose that very few people actually know what that feels like.

This was a joyful moment for my son. Mud! And Mama has no problem with me playing in it... yay!

One of the exercises is to recall a time when you felt joy and to recount what that feels like.  And you know, despite all my bravado about “well, this is really just a reminder for me, I just don’t follow it,” I can’t remember when the last time was that I felt pure, unrestrained joy and didn’t have something over-shadowing it. Usually, even when I’m happy, I feel guilty or worried about some thing.

Dancing is probably the closest thing to pure joy for me, and even that has its detractors… feel guilty because the Engineer is home with Munchkin, don’t get too close to my partner because he’s not my husband and you don’t want to give people the wrong idea… you get the idea.

Look at that muddy face!

I’m thinking this situation may need some attention. Why isn’t it that I don’t feel joy? Am I misinterpreting what I feel? Do I just not pay attention and so I haven’t noticed? Do I genuinely not feel joy? Each of these questions have their own problems if answered in the affirmative, of course.

So what about you? What is the last time you felt joy? What is your definition of joy?

Amphitrite, Siren of Sunset Reef in Grand Cayman.

In 2003, I had the good fortune to visit the Cayman Islands. While there, I took a submarine trip and saw this statue. (And took this picture.) Last year, I randomly picked up a magazine about diving and read about how she’s a featured goal in a divers’ club diving competition. I knew she was a popular girl, but I’d never thought to run into her again that way. Silly me.