Engineering

I chatted up Sexy Engineer on Saturday.  "Tell me about your life, " he commanded.  I didn't gush about my regular dinner guest because, well, how can I put that into words?  I mentioned the house guest arriving that evening with a dog instead.  Sexy Engineer's interest in the dog almost inspired me to invite him over to meet my guests.  I had to turn my attention elsewhere before I could say anything.  I did find out from him that he doesn't have a Facebook profile.  How is that possible?  Sexy guy, just not for me!  I am giving up that dream.

Tiny chef

Belle helped me cook Italian salmon wraps on Friday night, salmon burger patties, mashed sweet potatoes and sauteed collard greens last night and spaghetti with a homemade mushroom and tomato sauce tonight.  Belle helped me cook by sprinkling in seasonings and stirring the pots.  She loved it enough to shove me out of the way and take over the stove almost completely.

Friday night dinner

We made "Italian Salmon Wraps" last night, adapted from the Oriental Chicken Wraps recipe I found on a can of Del Monte green beans.  I simmered a can of French style green beans with a can of peas, a sliced red onion and whole black peppercorns until the onion cooked.  I drained the vegetables and stirred in a large can of flaked, wild caught red salmon and fresh dill.  In a larger pan, I simmered leftover white rice in tomato sauce with freshly picked basil and oregano.  I added the salmon and vegetables to the rice in tomato sauce, spooned it into tortillas and had a delicious meal.  Belle, on the other hand, did all that cooking and merely nibbled a tortilla.

Passions

I made a list of as many activities and interests I had in my childhood and teen years after listening to a podcast on life purpose.  I found a couple things I enjoyed with my parents (baking with my mom and working out with my dad) that ended with their violent deaths.  My grandmother blasted everything else I loved:  the beauty industry, the entertainment industry, the fashion industry, hypnotherapy, reading and writing, not to mention my body, my connection to my extended family, my education, my feelings and my likelihood of marriage and family as an adult.  She vetoed everything without ever steering me toward, or even suggesting, anything else.  That created a very shaky foundation for adult success.

I also asked myself what kind of a person I am.  I remember my grandmother and my great aunt saying, "But you're not a 'gentle treasure,'" after asking for a cheap toy with those words printed on it.  I remember reading a novel called Garden of Lies, which inspired my grandmother to accuse me of being a liar.  I remember proudly sharing my own made up stories with my other grandmother, only to be warned against lying.  I remember my grandmother always conveniently having "high blood pressure" whenever I asserted or advocated for myself.  I remember being blasted for earning an expensive education and for taking time for self-care.  I remember hiding in the bathroom to exercise and wearing girdles around the house so my grandmother couldn't "pinch an inch."  I remember being warned as a very young girl never to try alcohol or gambling because I would never stop if I ever started.  I remember my grandmother being pleased with herself for breaking me.

I remember evenings spent drinking stale, over steeped tea while listening to jazz or world music.  I remember reading and writing by flashlight.  I remember shining in my fiction and poetry writing workshops, and keeping that all secret.  I remember iced tea and fruit tarts and French baguette with Brie with the girls.  I remember stealing kisses with young men I never saw again.  I remember wearing garter belts and stockings to school.  I remember taking many, many bus trips to the beach, the mall and the movies.  I remember using a pay phone to check in at home.  I remember having a secret life that I no longer consciously remember.

In Alameda before Belle, I was called greedy, entitled, selfish, suspicious, distrustful, conceited, lazy, insecure, unstable and ostentatious because I had moved to a new town alone and could take care of myself.  I could walk into a room well dressed, with my hair and makeup done, and hear someone ask me to take it all off or leave.   I could clear a room by walking in.  I could accept an invitation and be later asked not to bother even showing up, lest I be thrown out.  I have practically been bullied out of here as an adult, by other adults.  As a sad result, I have stopped allowing things to manifest.  I have stopped being carefree and confident.  I have swapped faith with fear.  I have never felt so shaken.  Who am I?  What am I most passionate about?  How can I make a significant contribution while being accepted as my authentic self, when that authentic self likes eating, living indoors and wearing finer fabrics ?

Weekly Pull

Healing With The Fairies, What is the tone of this coming week?

Making New Friends, Parents and Children, Follow Your Dreams

Ergo Baby Carrier

Yesterday's food run yielded fifteen pounds of grits, twelve delicious strawberry-apple juice boxes and an Ergo baby carrier.  Belle had fallen asleep in the wrap on the walk home when a Passat stopped in front of us.  The woman driving asked if she could drop a baby carrier off for us.  I quickly gave her the address and soldiered on.  Several minutes later, she met us at home with a freshly laundered Ergo, exactly what we needed!

I secured Belle into it right away and watched her fall fast asleep.  Later on I undid the straps while watching a video on how to wear a side hip carry.  I couldn't put the Ergo back together using anything online as a model because there are many different models and not enough images of an empty Ergo from behind.  I began to unravel emotionally immediately, especially when Belle became a clinging vine.  I eventually put the Ergo back together nearly twenty-four hours later, where Belle is sleeping now.

Live wire

Dinner guest dropped by well past ten last night.  I'd let Belle play very hard all evening in the attempt at exhausting her so we might be left alone.  Climbing the pantry shelves, cooking on the play stove, a shower and soothing music only made Belle more wired.  Belle eventually caught a second whim that mimicked a young man on angel dust.  Books were knocked off shelves and acrobats were done off the couch.  Dinner guest had to intervene.  Just when I felt Belle needed to be tranquilized, she knocked out and stayed out until morning.  How weird!