Unresolved

No matter what time this ends up being posted, it's important for you to know that I started writing at 4:20 AM. That is not to say that I just woke up and started writing. Hardly. No, DH had to get up for work, and I woke up right before his alarm went off.... at 2:15.

I've read through my Google Reader (twice), checked GMail (twice), and read through the very few interesting stories on FoxNews. If I can't sleep after I post this, I will probably read Miss Manners.

Most nights, I sleep better than this. I'm blaming my insomnia on my environment. That is, a twin mattress in the floor of my soon to be ex-rental house. It should have been an ex a week ago; alas, we still do not have a closing date. Our belongings are packed and moved (not into the new house; just moved). Save, of course, the random odds and ends that plague every mover - and anyone who has moved understands this. As my eyes wander around the room, I see a lamp, the printer we needed for whatever reason, the shelves DH didn't take down yet, a cake stand and cookie rack, some paperwork, blah blah blah.

A new year's celebration is about reflecting (backward) and hoping & planning (forward). I'm trying not to judge myself to harshly this morning, but I'm not entirely happy with the progress of 2008. Work-wise, I think that my team has made steady progression toward some goals, but I can't think of any bright, shining moments. Many of my team members have faced setbacks of either a personal or professional nature (we'll call them growing pangs and learning experiences). I wish we could take some time off, mentally, but this is going to be the most difficult quarter yet as we prepare for some major transitions.

Personally-professionally, I'm still not quite where I want to be. I found out right before Christmas that my proposal to speak at a national academic conference has been accepted - more on that later, I'm sure - and it's great to finally highlight my work and the work of my team. And, I think that our topic - library teaching & assessment, generally - shines a light on a best practice that should be adopted by most, if not all, academic libraries. However, this is an academic conference, not a library conference, so it will be at least several more months before I publish and speak on this topic to my own peers outside of my institution.

Boy does this post sound like a downer. I need to quit blogging so early in the morning.

The Oxford English Dictionary lists 2 definitions for Resolution: 1) a state of dissolution or decay; and 2) the process by which a material thing is reduced or separated into its component parts or elements; a result of this. I like both definitions. The first because I feel like many parts of my life are in some form of decay (my body is at the top of the list; even though I am only 28, I have aged my body through, shall we say, over-indulgence). And of course, there are many elements in dissolution: the house, where my career path is heading at my workplace, and so on.

The second definition, however, is more hopeful. To me, it says that a resolution is not an all-encompassing thing. I don't have to solve a crisis or make life-altering decisions or changes, or define unreasonable, unattainable goals. I can reduce a challenge into its element - it's "raw material". I like this approach. It's fresh, and it lightens what would normally be a tremendous burden that we place on ourselves (at this time of year, at the time of our annual review, after a life-altering experience, etc.).

With no further ado. Resolved:

1. I resolve to take better care of my body. That means taking all of my medicine, eating less and eating better, being less of a davenport tater, and drinking more water and less Pepsi. (I loves me my Pepsi).

2. I resolve to sleep more. Starting in like 10 minutes, I hope.

3. I resolve to call more and e-mail less.

4. I resolve to get help when I need it - at work, at home, and psychologically.

5. I resolve to send birthday and holiday cards on time. Ok, I resolve to send birthday and holiday cards after I buy them.

6. I resolve to not base my organizational, baking, and craft-y worth on the airbrushed, painstakingly designed photos in the likes of Good Housekeeping, Martha Stewart, etc.

7. I resolve to be more friendly to my environment.

8. I resolve not to overdo "it" - potluck is my new word for 2009.


Happy New Year, everyone.

Shameless Child Labor!

Another example of a cute kid being used to sell a product.

Just kidding. Who wouldn't buy a kid a puppy after seeing these photos?

The Sleeping Habits of Felines

Cats know how to nap. They have elevated the quick snooze into a fine and delicate art. Take our Oatmeal, for example (DH named her, not me). She has a morning ritual of waking DH up around 3:45, after his first alarm goes off. She'll jump on him, walk on his head, and normally lay down beside him, knitting until she either falls asleep or he wakes up. For those not familiar with felines, a cat knits by digging claws into the flesh in a methodical, repetitive pattern, sort of like testing a pillow to make sure that it is soft. It's painful.

So painful, in fact, that she's not allowed to do it to me anymore. If she begins to knit, I just kick her off the bed, or couch, or wherever we might be being lazy at the time. Not literally kick. That would be mean.

Back to napping. Cats have the right idea. They are supremely invested in their own comfort, they are happy before they nap and when they wake up, and they do it in short bursts, to remain fresh throughout the day. How can one who has slept most of the night then take a nap at 7:30? Ask Oatmeal. This morning, she jumps on my head (I don't even need an alarm, thank you), walks down my back and lays right in front of me. I wrap my arm around her like I'm holding a pillow, she rests her chin on my propped up elbow, and purrs for about 3 minutes before she falls asleep for 15. Then, she wakes up, purring, and jumps down to take a bath in her water bowl (she's odd) and find every toy in the house.

Why can't we all take 20 minute naps, play in our water bowls, and then play with our toys? Perhaps in my next life...

Thanksgiving: The Aftermath

I haven't blogged in a month because I've been planning for Thanksgiving for a month (among other things; more on that later). I had initially planned to do this whole before-and-after series in the style of Anderson Cooper (I love you. Marry me. Really). However, things happen the way that they always do, so I'm writing about it now, more like the second graders who do the news report before classes start over the intercom.

I cannot even blame the DH for this one, although he will certainly be held accountable for his minor role. For you see, I was the one who said "we're going to do Turducken".

For those of you who are not avid readers of foodie blogs, or have never seen Paula Dean's Thanksgiving episode (no one plays cards like that. no one.), a Turducken is a chicken inside of a duck inside of a turkey, with stuffing in between each layer. While this idea has been attributed to many chefs, Chef Paul Prudhomme is generally credited for its creation. The finished pictures of a good looking Turducken are quite a sight, really, for the avid carnivore. And of course, there are modern variations with tofu, unpronounceable bacon-wrapped monstrosities, etc.

This was to be a simple task. Get a turkey, duck, and chicken. Make some stuffing. Stuff stuffing in turkey, duck and chicken; then stuff chicken inside of duck inside of turkey. Roast for a very long time.

Did I mention that all three birds needed to be deboned? And that most of the recipes suggest 12 HOURS for roasting time?

Deboning, piece of cake. In fact, DH and I got TWO chickens from Sam's just so we could practice. One night before Thanksgiving around 10 pm, he says to me "let's watch a video and learn how to debone the chicken". Ok, so we did that. We watched three videos, as a matter of fact. Feeling quite confident, we marched into the kitchen. I said "I'll debone it, since I'll probably have to do it for real anyway". And he said "great, I'll supervise".

(Imagine, dear reader, a great wall of silence here. Followed by me tightening my grip around the knife until my fingers went white).

Perhaps this part of the story would be best left out, but the deboning was not pretty. We mutilated that poor chicken. If it could have picked up its innards and made a run for it, I'm sure we'd have seen it dashing out the door. I tried to cut but ended up slicing through meat. DH decided to step in and "fix it". I slammed the knife down and cursed. Lots. And then I left. We ate homemade chicken nuggets for dinner. As DH cleaned his plate, he says quite casually "maybe someone else should debone the birds." YOU THINK?

So I called the high-end grocery store about 40 miles north (because there is not much high end in "Slocala") and asked them. Nope, they don't debone. Or, maybe they did, but I couldn't understand the butcher's broken English, so that was that. Butcher two, no dice, and so on. Five places I called. Now, I panic, because I've told PEOPLE that we are having Turducken. And I can't let PEOPLE down. Finally, I call Publix, our local average grocery store chain. And of course, they'll do it, for free. I love Publix.

So we pick up the birds a few days before, to brine them. And not only has the butcher deboned them, but he did so from the inside out. He basically took the skin and meat off like a sleeve, not cutting the birds at all. If I ever decide on a hobby, I totally want to learn how to do that. Or not, that sounds a little psycho.

So, tis the night before Thanksgiving and all through the house, it's crammed with cans and veggies and potatoes and bread and decorations and boxes of stock and juice and you name it. I had my own grocery store in the dining room. So I started on a few of the sides (we ended up with 8 total, I think) and then I made the first stuffing (because we can't just use one stuffing. Oh no. That would be sane. Three different stuffings. Soooooo stupid). And then we prepare to stuff.

I've never really stuffed a bird before. I mean, I've put a little stuffing in, but usually with a spoon. Spoons do not really maneuver well inside of a duck inside of a turkey. No matter how many pictures you see of a Turducken online, they NEVER show you a girl freaked by raw poultry juices with her arm stuck halfway inside of three birds. It was vulgar.

As soon as the bird was in the oven, I went to bed. We decided to roast it in the oven overnight (about 6 hours) and then smoke it for the other 6 on the big grill. Of course, when we got up in the morning, it was done.

Done.

And so am I. Dinner went fine. The family only drove me a little crazy, but my favorite aunt-in-law and best friend helped me with the dishes, and everything but the pecan pie came out well. Even the turducken.

Would you like to know what we are having for Christmas?

Ham sandwiches.