Confession: I love food

I have a confession to make: I LOVE FOOD. Shocked? If you know me you shouldn't - heck look at a picture and you can tell I love food. My challenge is I don't love all foods so while I don't consider myself a picky eater I am particular about my food. I use to think I was pretty adventuresome about food but I have learned I am not. My "ah ha" moment was when my husband and I were on a date way back when and the appetizer from a prefix menu was put in front of us and I declared "I'm Not Eating THAT!". B-man still will say it to my face every now and then when I'm getting persnickety.

Am I a picky eater that I only like my red meat to be cooked well done (brown all the way through - no pink)? I tend to order Filet Mignon at restaurants, not because I'm being a snob but because it is a leaner cut of meat. I don't like any fat on my meat because it makes me sick when I end up eating a little bit of it (yes yes I know you should have some on there for cooking purposes but I just have to cut it off). I don't eat a lot of fish because 1) I won't order a whole meal of a fish I've never tried and 2) I don't particularly care for much of the fish I have tried. I'll eat chicken every now and then but it isn't my favorite thing (B-man is cringing I know because fried chicken is his favorite food). I don't particularly eat soup unless I'm really in the mood (usually sick or its really really cold out).

I am a slave to flavor but don't eat (well 99.99% of the time) the same thing 2 days in a row. Leftovers are not very popular with me. I'll take things home on a rare occasion because the food is either 1) really that good I can eat it the next day, 2) some foods get better the next day (PIZZA) and 3) I can give it to the dog. Maybe I am scared for life from the "clean out the frig" nights of dinner we had as a kid. There were some seriously strange things left in that frig that we had to eat just to see it go away.

Oh and texture plays a huge factor in foods that I will and will not eat. For example I don't particularly care for mushrooms but I will eat them raw in a salad and on a rare occasion on a pizza (very rare occasion). They get all mushy when cooked. I won't eat black olives on anything other than a BMT from subway (add cheese, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, green peppers, pickles, mustard, mayo, salt and pepper and it is sooo good - just ask my dad) this has to be a flavor thing. I like fresh spinach in a salad but I'm not a fan of cooked spinach (again I think this is texture). I like corn but I'm not a fan of creamed corn (yet again a texture thing).

I'm trying to be more imaginative with my food choices. Heck I brought leftovers for lunch today (yes from last night's dinner) and it was good, again. And . . . and . . . it was chicken and yes I cooked it. Boom!

Do you have any of these food issues? How do you deal with them? I'm thinking this year I will really try (no really - stop laughing) to be more open to flavors and textures of my food. I might end up playing with my food more often and having to get other sides but I'm going to try.

Oh and that food that I said "I'm Not Eating THAT!" well I actually did eat it and it wasn't bad. It was fried oysters (I had never had them before) in a sauce. I thought they weren't too bad until the end when they got really chewy but now I can say I've had an oyster. And I'm not eating that . . . ever again.

Lent is coming up soon (ahhhhhhhh we just finished Christmas) - now I have to figure out what I'm giving up. Usually it is food or drink but I'm not sure (I've given up soda before - my hardest test ever but I did it - even repeated it the next year to see if I could survive again). I've given up sweets (was about 95% good that year) but its hard since I have such a sweet tooth (if I do it again must add clear parameters). I see people have given up Facebook but I'm not doing that. Suggestions anyone?

2015 = A year of new!

Well it has been a while since I last popped in to share my whit and wisdom (and yes I know that one of my 2014 resolutions was to write frequently). So I'll not make any resolutions this year but certainly try to post more.

2014 certainly brought endings and beginnings in my life. The biggest ending was very hard for me to stomach. After 22 years of either being an EMT or First Responder, my certification expired. I won't lie - I lost a big piece of who I am the day that happened (September 1st). I've been involved in EMS for more than half of my life and it was one way I identified myself. I'm still involved as much as time and options allow me but it is I guess the door that closes so another one can open. . . which is in fact what did happen. 

My door opening was I became a ThirtyOne independent consultant a matter of days after that. I had been thinking of getting into the Home Party world but never found any one thing that I could really get behind until I realized that ThirtyOne was a great fit for my life. I use the product (you can call me a bag lady :-) if you want) and I was looking for a new challenge so it fit. I've never been really excited about sales (even when I worked retail in High School and College) so you won't find me pushing this down your throat. I will say that if you are interested in learning about the products ThirtyOne has and/or having a party just let me know and I'll be happy to chat with you about it. My ThirtyOne web page is: mythirtyone.com/ashleyaldridge and I have a closed group on Facebook that you can be added to if you want to learn about specials and such.

The other big change is that my baby girl is no longer a baby girl. She's 3 now and continues to blow my mind. Smiley is in a big girl bed, 99.999% potty trained and learning up a storm. She just amazes me. Its true - don't blink - they grow up so fast. Oh and I'll attest that even though I'm only 1 month into the 3s that 3s are worse than 2s. Such sass! UGH - my mother has come out of my mouth more and more each day (yes yes I know mom you were right). But I love her so much that she's worth it; even on the really really really bad days. P.S. here is your warning - she has my temper.

Another new for 2015 is that I've actually taken a vested interest in my skin. I'm approaching the big 40 this year and I guess I can't ride the "you look so much younger than your actual age" train much longer. I've been "helping" my hair out for a while now with temporary glossers (love the Sangria red) but I've noticed other things are creeping up on me. So I've bought a few products from my friend Dianne who sells Rodan + Fields (they are the dermatologists who made Proactive). I've started using a few items on my face and hands (since time is marching all over them too) and I'm very impressed. This is coming from the girl who wears minimal make up (a little foundation under the eyes, eye shadow, eyeliner, sometimes cheek blush [really I mean sometimes] and sometimes lips gloss/stick [ a little more than the cheek blush but not by much]). I've even used 1 of the products for my face for Smiley's her arms (she has these bumps on the back of her arms like I get). I have another one for her sensitive skin to deal with bugbites. She reacts so badly to a simple bug bite that she looks like she has been attacked by an enire arm of them (anyone who has seen my arms after I get an allergy shot - think similar to that). Her poor arms and legs get so red and the site of the bite gets really swollen. She really dislikes bugs because of how much they itch. I keep cream in 2 spots of the house to help with the itchies. This second product is a cream for sensitive skin that is supposed to help. I'm going to use both of these items on B-man's feet - they are so dry and cracked (I'll post pictures when I do). If you are interested in the R+F stuff I can turn you on to my girl.

Happy 2015 - lets make this our year of new!

If this is it . . . please let me know.

My tag line no doubtfully now has Huey Lewis & The News now stuck in your mind (give it a minute). But I've been doing a lot of thinking lately and when I came across this blog post I couldn't help but think wow. Some of the points are right and some not so much just for me. The blog was called "This Is 38. This Is Midlife". The author says:

Thirty-eight is solidly in the middle of my life. Thirty-eight is realizing that there are likely as many years behind me as there are ahead. It is acknowledging that life is no longer a green field, that certain doors are closed, that some choices are irrevocable and that many of the big what-ifs that haunted my childhood have been answered. Thirty-eight is also realizing that despite these answers, there are far, far more new questions.

Thirty-eight is new lines at the sides of my eyes and mouth. From smiling, maybe, but still.

Thirty-eight is wearing my wedding ring all the time, and my engagement ring only rarely. 

Thirty-eight is not knowing which band was my wedding band and which my husband gave me on the day our daughter was born, because they are identical. I don't think it matters. Thirty-eight is wearing my mother's wedding ring for a time, when she was unable to. Thirty-eight is knowing that one of my favorite pictures from our long-ago wedding shows that I wore my grandmother's ring on my right hand when I walked down the aisle.

Thirty-eight is realizing that certain shorts and skirts are now just too short. Thirty-eight is wondering if this is the summer to put away the bikinis.

Thirty-eight is thirteen years of marriage. It is knowing all the ways that marriage is both less and more than I thought it was, when I walked into a church wearing white and hearing thunder. Less score-keeping, less candlelight, less drama. More small acts of kindness, more forgiveness, more abiding. Fewer flowers, but more cups of coffee made exactly how I like them, without being asked, brought to me in bed in the morning.

Thirty-eight is realizing that my lifetime passion for peonies probably has something to do with their life span, which is as short as it is spectacular. It can't be an accident that I love best of all the flowers that blaze more brightly and most briefly.

Thirty-eight is not having any more grandparents. It is hearing about the illness and death of my friends' parents. It is going to funerals, and also christenings, more often than weddings. Thirty-eight was leaving my injured mother's side before surgery a couple of years ago to run home to my daughter, who was crying that I wasn't spending enough time with her. Thirty-eight is the middle place.

Thirty-eight is knowing who your friends are, for real, for certain. It is understanding that though there will be a small handful of true native speakers, it is OK for many friends to access only certain parts of you. These friendships, while different, can offer great joy, deep laughter and tremendous companionship. Thirty-eight is still learning that not everybody will like you, no matter what you do.

Thirty-eight is drinking homemade green juice and Diet Coke most days. It is developing a taste for kombucha, and drinking coffee with coconut milk and xylitol. It is drinking wine still, but not as much, because I'd rather sleep and I've realized that alcohol interferes with that.

Thirty-eight is finding that each year she grows more sensitive, more aware of life's beauty and pain, more attuned to the world around her. Thirty- eight cries every single day, and laughs that much too (see: lines on my face).

Thirty-eight is in the heart of the grand love affair that is motherhood, both smitten by and exasperated by her daughter and son. Thirty-eight is watching, awestruck, as these children develop into people in whom bloom traits uncomfortably familiar and absolutely foreign in equal measure. Thirty-eight reads Harry Potter aloud, packs lunches, drives to and from soccer and hockey and baseball practices and games (see photo), plans surprise adventure outings and can still make a bruised knee feel better with a kiss.

Thirty-eight is its own kind of phosphorescence. Different than ten's ephemeral incandescence, but no less dazzling and no less fleeting. Just like 10, just like life itself, 38 is bewilderingly beautiful, maddeningly confusing, achingly bittersweet and vanishingly transient.
 
Here is my spin on 38:

To start I'm am closer to 39 than 38 but I don't feel like I'm midlife yet and I'm certainly not having a midlife crisis. I plan to live well into my late 80s or God hoping 90s provided I'm not in a diaper, in a nursing home and can't remember my daughter. B-man says he's going to outlive me so he better take good care of me when I'm older. I agree that certain doors in my life are closed or closing and I have to accept that. I have one event this month that is a significant door closing and truthfully it is very hard for me to accept that. I still cry at the thought of it.

 
Thirty-eight is noticing the brown spots on the side of my face and that my hands look older. I don't have my grandmother's hands but still they are not as smooth as they use to be. I might have crows feet forming but I haven't noticed them yet.

Thirty-eight is explaining to my daughter (as she is playing with my rings) that one day she will get to keep my engagement ring which in turn makes me think of my mom's engagement ring (that my sister has). I have my grandmother's engagement ring and I've been debating on having it reset into a necklace for Smiley.

Thirty-eight is realizing that I can't really wear shorts anymore and that some skirts are just too short for anyone.

Thirty-eight is focusing even more on my hair. Length, style, cut and of course how many grey hairs there are. I have been "changing" colors since I was 18 (thank you genetics) and with my hair being dark brown those little buggers show up really bad. I've been using the wash out dyes for a few years now but I'm noticing I have to use them more and more. Trying to put off the full head dye job for a while longer. NO I am not going to let it go naturally. Again I'm only 38.

Thirty-eight is six years of marriage. It is knowing that romance isn't wine, roses and candles every night. It really is the little things. Surprise goodies from the grocery store. Letting each other watch the TV program they want. Asking if it is O.K. before planning an activity (knowing that permission isn't required, but it still nice if they check with you in case you had plans already).

Thirty-eight is not having any more grandparents. It is hearing about the illness and death of my friends' parents. It is going to funerals. Thirty-eight is feeling and acting like the grownup when life gets hard for friends and family.

Thirty-eight is laughing at the stories that teenagers and early 20 somethings tell about how life is "sooo hard". Hearing them talk about their part time job and now having bills to pay or a 6 page paper to write for school. LOL ahhh the good ole days. I really do find myself telling those kids to enjoy it now because being an adult sucks sometimes. Be a kid as long as you can.

Thirty-eight is knowing that I know a lot of people but I don't have a lot of close friends. I can be a very guarded person (some people translate that into I'm a snob or a witch [insert the B]) thanks to things that have happened in my past so I don't open up all the way to everyone. I have some tried and true friends that I know I can call at any time to talk with. I treasure those people and they will always be in my life. Thirty-eight is accepting that not everyone will like you and being O.K. with that.

Thirty-eight is knowing that I can't stay up past 11 pm anymore without being wiped out and sleeping in is 8:00 in the morning. Sigh I miss the days of staying up to 2 and getting up at noon. LOL. I just can't do it anymore. Heck I put Smiley to bed each night and then I'm off to bed myself not to long after that. Whew. Don't be jealous!

Thirty-eight is sitting on the couch watching my 2 1/2 year old play and be completely amazed at the little person she has become and wondering where that little baby went. Wondering more about making her future solid than anything else in the world. Trying to find ways to keep her entertained and challenged. Hoping things come more naturally and easily for her than they did for me. Praying she gets the best of her father and her mother. Laughing when she does something or acts just like me. I've used the phrase "she comes by it honestly" too much lately it is scary.

Thirty-eight is playing the lottery regularly and plotting out how I will spend the money (buy x type of house; put x amount away for college; pay off bills; putting money aside to grow interest so you never have to work again unless you want to; the trips I would take; a small business I would like to start). Sadly its all logical ways to spend money. Sadly the most I have ever won was $5. 

Thirty-eight is thinking to myself so is this all that my life is cracked up to be? I had imagined when I was approaching 40 that I would have be in a very different place. I'd be wealthier (not a richie rich but still have more income). I'd be in a modest house with my family (husband, 2 kids and at least 1 dog). I've got the family to include one child and one dog (who sadly is 14 and i know won't be with us for many more years) but I'm in a townhouse that I expected would be a starter kind of place not a long term place. I'd have traveled more (across the U.S. and abroad). I'd be more active than I am. I don't know I just expected more from my life at this point in time.

I guess that's what makes us all scared of growing older, we don't really know what to expect because we have ideas of what life will be like at x age and when you get there, surprise it isn't everything you expected. Maybe its just me.

And not so much!

So today marks the end of Lent for me. I know Easter is still a few days away but because I am in the choir at church I will begin singing at various masses tonight through Sunday so in my mind Lent is over. It got me to looking back this morning as I brushed my teeth as to how I did with Lenten appeals. I have successfully managed to not eat red meat this whole time . . . and yes it is literally killing me!

I am so done with chicken. I've never been a big fan of it to start with (my husband just gasped I know it) so what made me think I could manage to eat more chicken and like it. Nope. I think I dislike it even more now. I will never, ever, ever, ever (yes I'll say never again) do that again. I tried to keep my whining to a minimum but I know I did it. I think next week we will have red meat in one way shape or form next week. Oh sure I ate turkey, pork and some fish too but chicken was the majority of our food choices and I'm done with it. I might try giving up Facebook next year. I know several people who do it and I think I might go that route next year.

I loved the post that I read about 40 bags/40 days. Basically for those who don't know each day during lent you clean out an area of your home and put whatever you don't want in a bag. You can either throw the contents away, save it to sell in a yard sale or give away. You get to choose the size of your bag (trash bag, body bag, plastic bag from Target/Walmart, etc). I started out a few days late in lent but had a great plan to do this. I went and bought white trash bags and started in one room each night after work. This lasted 3 whole days. I did manage to get one small section of my den a little bit more organized. And I even sold several items. Whoo hoo. I found myself with great intentions but a lack of push to keep it going. I am still going to try and work on this concept because I have too much crap (some good, some bad, some just plain crap that needs to go). To those who did this - kudos to you. My ADHD must have kicked in because I just couldn't focus enough to do it.

Spring is officially here, although mother nature seems to be holding onto later winter here in VA this week. I don't get it. On Saturday I wore capris and flip flops. By Wednesday I was wearing boots and a jacket and cleaning frost off my windshield. No wonder my nose is going nuts and I'm sneezing all day long. UGH. Good thing I take drugs for that.

I hate to look back at my New Years Promises to see how wonderfully I am doing on that front. So as to not depress myself any further (after all it was tax day on Tuesday and lets just say no return for us, instead a nice little check was written to Uncle Sam) I am just going to wrap it up.

It's my Friday so I'm going to treat myself to a bagel and get my day going.

Hey! Where did you learn to drive?

Every morning and every afternoon as I make my way to and from work I have a tendency to question my fellow commuters and where they learned to drive. I'm constantly amazed at the lack use of the turn signal. Seriously it is a simple little finger maneuver that takes a second to do. The biggest things that always get me are people who don't even try and stop as a stop sign (rolling stops . . . seriously) and a 3 way or 4 way stop sign. Hello were you not taught who goes next? It made me think, maybe all drivers should be required to retake the written test every couple of years, like every 5th year. I would hope I would pass the test right now but who knows. Could you?

These Dreams Go On When I Close My Eyes

"These dreams go on when I close my eyes". Now that I have an all time great Heart song stuck in your head I want to discuss with you my dreams.

Not my hopes, dreams and wishes for a brights and sunny future. Nope, I want to talk about those crazy things that happen in my brain when I close my eyes at bed time and try to rest. Try being the key word. I always wonder why I'm so tired in the morning and truthfully I blame it on my mind. I dream pretty much every night and I remember a good portion of at least one dream that I have each night.

My dreams come in all shapes and sizes. I dream in color and I dream like I am watching a movie or TV show but yet I am one of the characters partaking in the dream. Crazy I know. But wait it gets better. My favorite part of my dream. I dream in thin. That means I am the size that I would like to be, not what I am right now. Oh and my hair always seems to look good.

My most common dream is about zombies. Yep I dream about them regularly. I'm a bit obsessed with them but they scare the crap out of me. Ghosts - nope. Vampires - nope. Strange creatures that go bump in the night - nope. Zombies - Hell yeah! The good news is despite the fact I had a zombie dream just the other night I have noticed that as of late I've been dreaming about my dream house. The other night it was moving day into the dream house and I was so excited. The rooms (suites I should say) were color coded. I was also excited to see how my dream kitchen had turned out. Ahh it was a nice dream. Much better than being chased by zombies.

While the house dream is not the same every time (zombie dreams can be the same) it still seems to be a reoccurring theme in my mind at bed time. Not too long ago we were touring our new house - not MY dream house but apparently the one we were moving into. B-man had been behind the buying of this house. The problem was it was really small and the layout was not what I wanted. Heck the downstairs powder room had no doors on it - just a cubby like place with the toilet there so people coming in and out of the house could see you and chat. Ewe! The cool part of the dream was about the building of the house. In order to buy and live in the house you had to actually participate in the construction of the home. Don't know where it came from but it is a cool concept. Makes for a vested interest don't you think. Kind of reminds me of Habitat for Humanity.

I promise you I don't eat spicy or crazy things before bedtime so I can't pin the dreams on that. I don't even watch shows like Walking Dead (I tried to get into it but just couldn't) before I go to bed. I don't know its just I have an overactive imagination I think.

I've bought dream analysis books before and I've heard from lots of people what they think is causing my dreams. I just find it curious that I don't meet many people who have such active dreaming as I do or at least they don't remember it. I'm sure if I went to psychologist or therapist they would probably say I'm nuts or make me a case study. I just can't imagine I'm the only one out there with this crazy dream process.

Anyone else dream like I do and/or remember their dreams so frequently? Just curious.

40 Bags in 40 Days

Well it's Ash Wednesday and that means it is lent and I have chosen to give up red meat and tonight I'll get my ashes. I had popped onto facebook and I saw this posting by a friend of mine:

So what is 40 Bags in 40 Days?


Its a forty day period in the spring (coinciding with the 40 days of Lent) where you focus on cleaning one area per day. In this one area you challenge yourself to declutter, simplify, decrapify, and get rid of things you don’t need. The goal is one bag a day but you can have more or less. The 2014 challenge officially goes from Wednesday, March 5th to Saturday, April 19th. Sundays are your day off. You can start it whenever you are finding this post, we’ll still be here to cheer you on!

Where do I put it all?

The stuff can get organized, donated, given to a family member or friend, go in a garage sale pile, to Freecycle, get sold, or go into the garbage. Just get it out of your house.



What a great idea, I am going to try and do this.