A good thing

{ View over Sicily—otherwise known as birthplace of my R | September 2011 }

 ...is being able to (crankily) call R when I'm leaving work because I'm faint with hunger and have no idea what I feel like eating only to have him say he's already in the kitchen making risotto with cremini mushrooms and fluffy ricotta (the kind you drag straight from the container to your lips, stopping only for a quick grind of black pepper on the way)...which it turns out, is exactly what I wanted.

Being gentle with myself

{ I think the kids these days would call this a "selfie"  |  La Colombe Soho }

Here's a semi-covertly-snapped pic of me at my local coffee shop. I figure this kind of post deserves a personal picture because I'm about to get real (and hopefully not preachy) with y'all and share my attempt to be more gentle and good to myself with a couple of changes I've made in the last 18 months or so. These didn't produce the magic fix that I was naively hoping for, but I do think that my life has gotten better.

This is just how I try to live, what's working for me and what I believe in...not at all meant to be a list of "you should be doing this, too!".

+ + +

I think a lot about what it means to be healthy. Growing up in the US we're given a lot of things to do and not to do and oddly enough, the more the USDA, FDA, APHA, etc. inundate us with new rules, the less healthy we become as a nation. And, more often than not, the advice we're given is heavily paid for by industry organizations that want to pad their wallets (what does it mean that the daily nutrition guide is backed by the USDA?). Then there are all the side diets and exercise plans that are heaped on top of the government recommendations and no wonder we're all wandering around, lugging our guts and high blood pressure with us.*

Now, I don't have any significant health problems (not even insignificant ones, really, which I know is already a blessing in itself), but there is some history of cancer and heart disease in our family and that coupled with a pervasive lack of energy/obnoxious yawning all day and a persistent stomach ache got me thinking about what the heck I'm putting into my body and what I'm putting it through.

+ + +

The first thing that had to go was the nasty tummy aches that I used to get practically every week. I had no idea what caused it so about a year and a half ago I started taking things out of my diet for 10 days or so to see what changed. Luckily removing dairy had no effects whatsoever but removing flour? Oooo boy, it was like I was given a new stomach (and all the other things connected to it). When I do something, I go all in, so I cut out all gluten. My timing was perfect (ahem), since my little experiment was just before a month of international travel (a trip to India for work and then to Sicily to play). Going gluten-free in India wasn't actually that hard, but in Sicily? Not as easy.

Milkman nostalgia

{ Creamy milk from Ronnybrook Farm & Dairy —in a bottle! Mind = blown! }

After all the tumult recently (I'm looking at you, Sandy), it was such a treat to have a low-key weekend at home. R and I agreed we'd spend a good chunk of it together, with the rest of it spent making a trek to Brooklyn to visit a favorite pastry shop (him), working on a consulting project on the side (me) and evening outings for drinks/dinner with friends and family (us).

We rolled out of bed around 9AM on Saturday, and since our groceries weren't arriving until the afternoon, R, dear husband that he is, ran out to get the milk and eggs we needed to have a proper breakfast. Me being the list-maker that I am, handed him a slip of paper with two notes on it (and yes, he may have slightly rolled his eyes at me):

+ "Non-homogenized, organic, local whole milk"
+ "Pastured eggs (at least cage free if you can't find pastured)"

In the time it took  me to do a whirlwind cleaning of the apartment, he came back proudly bearing a Ronnybrook Creamline bottle of milk. A bottle! I was on a high all morning just because it was so adorable and old-timey.

Once breakfast was ready (a smorgasborg of kale, sausage and poached eggs) with a hefty mug of coffee (+ milk for me!), we sat down to a candle-lit table and put on a new documentary from Netflix about Alexandria, a topic I'm obsessed with (more on that another day).

Afterwards, a little knitting to finish a baby gift and lots of lazing about before doing a few hours of work and meeting friends in the East Village for a drink and dessert.

{Still not sure who this is for, but at least it's done! | 17 November 2012}

Sunday began much the same way as Saturday, with candles lit, cinnamon and vanilla oil burning and fresh-ground espresso with a generous splash of Creamline milk. Except we traded in Netflix documentaries for the Sunday New York Times, and an outing to the East Village for the Lower East Side with dinner at Gentleman Farmer, a teensy, intimate, brick-walled restaurant that emphasizes exotic meats (like pheasant, ox, ostrich, etc.).

I could seriously do with a few more weekends like this one.

Happy makers

{ Dresser | Post Sandy flowers }

In what is sure to be a continuing list, these things give me undeniable glee:

+ Changing out the dishtowels for fresh ones

+ Buying a random assortment of flowers from my flower lady and then making lots of different bouquets for the house (by which I mean, super small NYC apartment, but "house" sounds nicer)

+ Candles—preferably fat ol' tapers, in the usual varying shades of cream (although I allow for red during the holidays)

+ Foreign memoirs and spy novels: for the former, am especially enthralled by ones set in the Mediterranean region, the Middle East or Ancient Egypt/India with lots of bits about food, art and culture. For the latter, there must be lots of country hopping, art/religion intrigue and historical coverups.

+ Cleopatra

+ Super smooth-writing black pens (especially Pilot G2s)

+ Getting a salon blow out—which only happens twice a year, because that's how often I cut my ridiculously long hair

+ The way that Netflix automatically goes to the next episode in the series, which makes my lolling about on the couch in a Desperate Housewives/Grey's Anatomy/Private Practice/White Collar weekend afternoon stupor significantly easier

+ When my phone is silent. I loathe talking on the phone.

+ Nicely polished nails...even though have been too skeeved about by my newfound awareness of nail polish chemicals to get my own done. They are looking...less than nice at the moment.

Good things right now

{ A little dash of Frenchiness in Noho }

As a balm to my trio post (that sandwiches a not-so-cute thing between two very cute things), I'm thinking it might not be a bad idea to keep track of things that I'm grateful for. I'm prone to snarky, negativity and I think there might be some weight behind things like Gratitude Journals and whatnot, so perhaps taking a few minutes to jot down a few happy-making things might (potentially significantly) make me a better, nicer person.

So...here we go, I'm currently thankful for being able to:

+ Notice the small pieces of my everyday, thanks to my infatuation with Instagram.

+ Wear a new robe, after two years of looking. It fits the majority of my requirements (soft, cuddly, pockets, short but not too short). The only thing it doesn't fit is my color requirement. I wanted a creamy color, although the lavendary grey I found isn't too bad.

+ Listen to Friends clips on my walks to and from work for a little morning/evening laugh.

+ Add another layer to our winter bedding (bringing the count to 4: a soft plum sheet, warm cream fleece, off-white coverlet, and snow-white comforter. Yes, I like varying shades of whitish/camel-y colors) for super cozy sleeps.

+ Enjoy a new-to-us, super deep and intense 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon from Wellington Vineyards in Sonoma at dinner last night.

Today's trio

Good: When the weather finally cooled off a few weeks ago, I started to walk the just-over-a-mile-and-a-half route to the office before or after work (sometimes both). Which was nice, because sitting at a desk all day long is tiring and an extra hour'ish or so of time outside is good for lots of reasons ("fresh" air! light! movement! chance to decompress before going home!), but it cut into my reading time.

So, I decided to check out the whole podcast thing with the Stitchr app. I went a little highbrow, subscribing to The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times, Slate, etc., but that got old pretty fast. Too much canned laughter, ads, and awkward pauses (and, after the election, less interesting). It's okay though, because I've found a much better source of entertainment for the walk: YouTube'ing "best of" clip reels from my standby shows (Friends, The West Wing, Gilmore Girls, etc.). Totally improves any trace of a yucky mood and I highly recommend doing the same.

Not so good: Pairing brand new dark-rinse jeans with brand new camel suede shoes. Know why? Because that results in newly stained, formerly suede shoes.

{ New shoes' first day out, pre-jean dye drip }

Better: Turns out that once again my pal Google has come to the rescue. Did you know that a normal pencil eraser will take out the dye stains from jeans on suede? Genius.

Cuspids

I think everyone has a few recurring nightmares. Mine for years and years and years has been the horror of losing a tooth in a violent way (not at all surprisingly, I think this first started during or right after my almost-three-year-bout with braces. Not just any braces, braces that involved a key hole in the roof of my mouth and a corresponding key that I had to turn every night. Shudder).

Three-thirty AM came around this morning and I snapped up in bed with the shakes. The dream (nightmare) that awoke me was that my right cuspid (yes, I just looked this up to be sure it was the right tooth because my dream was that vivid), just DISSOLVED and the outer shell hung there like a leaf blowing in the wind. Disgusting, right? At least this time I know why the nightmare resurfaced—I had a 7AM work call this morning that I had to lead. Stage fright = teeth falling out.

Lovely.