That's the name of my new recipe book.
One of my resolutions this year is to find a new recipe each week. So far, so good (well, I only started started this week, as last week was still vacation, and therefore did not count as the actual new year...)
I've been trying to decide what to name it, so I can decorate it all prettily, which will make me more likely to actually put recipes in it rather than just (incorrectly) think I'll be able to remember them all, and that's what I got.
Carrots in the Kitchen.
Let me explain. It's all about name pronunciation. Everyone gets it wrong (in fact, I'd be willing to bet a dollar that everyone who reads this blog and hasn't actually met me thinks my name sounds differently than it does). When I taught at UF (yay for the 2009 nat'l champs!) as part of my master's assistantship, I used to tell my students that I understood if they couldn't remember, but please, please, please (as in, don't get on my bad side or else your semester may not be as nice, just saying. Kidding! I loved all my students...) if you're not sure how to say it, just call me "hey you". Or, "excuse me". Some actually called me "Professor", which made me feel absolutely old.
So, what's the pronunciation? My name is Charis. I have found that most people automatically think the first syllable sounds like share, as in "share and share alike", and that the second sounds like eess, as in "lease".
Wrong.
It's actually pronounced with the first syllable care as in "careful" and the second iss "as in kiss".
So, to make it easy to remember for the little ones that I later taught, I'd say that "it's like 'carrots' without the T."
Kids always got that. Grownups, not as often. So now when I meet someone, the people who I'm with usually say that "it's like 'Paris' with a K." Which isn't true, because it's actually a CH, but let's not get started. And that isn't so much my favorite because we all know of another Paris who I wouldn't necessarily want to remind people of....and once in awhile someone will actually call me Paris.....sigh....
Anyway, so a term of endearment from the kiddies and for me was 'Carrots'. I liked it. I thought it was cute when they'd call me that. And I don't understand little 'un humor - I could make my friend's six-year-old giggle forever by just repeating "Hello, my name is Carrots and I like to eat vegetables."
Do you get it? I don't.
Anyway, so Carrots in the Kitchen is my new recipe book. And now you can say my name. Why you'd want to, I don't know, but when I read in my head I hear it, so I thought it may be useful for my 3 blog readers :)
Happy Friday!
Friday, January 9, 2009
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
Lines Blurry
Where's the difference between creating the life you want to live and walking the path that's been laid out for you, and is the one that you're supposed to be walking?
This morning I asked to be directed to live my best possible version of today.
I was taught that we all have multiple lives, days, realities we can live in each moment. It's a range, but there is a best one. Or maybe, a couple of best ones.
I was thinking about the thing that is an afternoon. Usually I don't know afternoons; my mornings bleed into noons which merge to afternoons and before I know it, the sky is darkening and I'm driving home.
Not that I mind the traffic these days (good contemplative time. Good people watching, too), but I do wish that I could live the different parts of my day, rather than the same minutes, or at least interchangeable ones, from morning to early evening, under the same fluorescent lights.
Today on my drive in I noticed the sky. I often do, but today I thought that I need to make sure to do that more often. I've been falling off lately.
In high school I remember my friend Brian G laughing at me and saying that I looked at the sky more than any person should. I miss being able to see it.
Then, I remember how nice it is sometimes to live my days this way. How long days can seem when each day is really four or five days, and not long in a good way.
So, finding the difference between the best path and your own choosing of a path? I'm not sure.
But I'm working on it!
This morning I asked to be directed to live my best possible version of today.
I was taught that we all have multiple lives, days, realities we can live in each moment. It's a range, but there is a best one. Or maybe, a couple of best ones.
I was thinking about the thing that is an afternoon. Usually I don't know afternoons; my mornings bleed into noons which merge to afternoons and before I know it, the sky is darkening and I'm driving home.
Not that I mind the traffic these days (good contemplative time. Good people watching, too), but I do wish that I could live the different parts of my day, rather than the same minutes, or at least interchangeable ones, from morning to early evening, under the same fluorescent lights.
Today on my drive in I noticed the sky. I often do, but today I thought that I need to make sure to do that more often. I've been falling off lately.
In high school I remember my friend Brian G laughing at me and saying that I looked at the sky more than any person should. I miss being able to see it.
Then, I remember how nice it is sometimes to live my days this way. How long days can seem when each day is really four or five days, and not long in a good way.
So, finding the difference between the best path and your own choosing of a path? I'm not sure.
But I'm working on it!
2008 Holidays, Part II
I left off at the band performance.
So the Heynas, otherwise known as B, T, and B's brother R, formed a little band and performed a set for family and friends on the 26th. It was good times, aside from the part where I slipped on a patch of ice outside the front door of the barn we were in, going down like a ton of bricks. I still have a bruise on my knee to prove it.
Yeah. Anyway, here are some pics.
Creepily awesome Santa and Mrs. Claus, by an amp:
The boys jammin out (like the lights? B decorated. Love the obviously man-done ribbons...):
T (with his rock star scruff) and I:
Tara (T's sister, love her) and her fiance Dean:
The next couple of days were more low-key, visiting relatives and such, then on the 29th we drove down to VA. I got to take T to Maymont in Richmond, my very favorite place although all the gorgeous flora is slumbering during the winter.
There's a gargantuan magnolia tree that we of course had to climb,
T was better at the whole tree climbing business than me (it's because his shoes had better traction, I swear!)
Then we snuck off into the bamboo forest for some quality time.
I love this shot.
After spending a couple of days in my town, we headed back up to PA for the last day or two.
Dinner with T's fam:
Then, it was back home!
You'd think that T would be used to the mild cold here in SoCal, since were were just in the frigid northeast. However, he complained so much in my living room that I had to papoose him. (I say papoose, he says homeless person):
Ok, I think that's it! Whew! It seemed to go by about as quickly as the time I spent typing this, can't wait to go visit the East again. How I miss this sky-
So the Heynas, otherwise known as B, T, and B's brother R, formed a little band and performed a set for family and friends on the 26th. It was good times, aside from the part where I slipped on a patch of ice outside the front door of the barn we were in, going down like a ton of bricks. I still have a bruise on my knee to prove it.
Yeah. Anyway, here are some pics.
Creepily awesome Santa and Mrs. Claus, by an amp:
The boys jammin out (like the lights? B decorated. Love the obviously man-done ribbons...):
T (with his rock star scruff) and I:
Tara (T's sister, love her) and her fiance Dean:
The next couple of days were more low-key, visiting relatives and such, then on the 29th we drove down to VA. I got to take T to Maymont in Richmond, my very favorite place although all the gorgeous flora is slumbering during the winter.
There's a gargantuan magnolia tree that we of course had to climb,
Then we snuck off into the bamboo forest for some quality time.
I love this shot.
After spending a couple of days in my town, we headed back up to PA for the last day or two.
Dinner with T's fam:
Then, it was back home!
You'd think that T would be used to the mild cold here in SoCal, since were were just in the frigid northeast. However, he complained so much in my living room that I had to papoose him. (I say papoose, he says homeless person):
Ok, I think that's it! Whew! It seemed to go by about as quickly as the time I spent typing this, can't wait to go visit the East again. How I miss this sky-
Tuesday, January 6, 2009
UFC
I had an epic battle this morning.
With a banana.
I won, I think.
This is not to be confused with the epic battle of '04 after which the Gainesville spider the size of my hand played dead as I looked away, so when my adrenaline decreased adequately for me to clean it up, it was gone. Gone like the dead villain in the horror movie, gone. I was scandalized. So I hunted for it and there it was, squeezed into a shadow in the corner, hiding. Let's just say that, after the second battle, even its closest relatives wouldn't've been able to identify the body.
(cue "taps" here)
Oh, and by the way, it was a wolf spider, I later learned:
No, this morning, it was with a banana.
You know when you just have those days? Well, today was one. And all my bruised little heart wanted at 9:20am was to eat my banana, and maybe a couple wheat thins.
The banana was a little green, but still doable, I thought. So, I went to snap the top off, like you do when you peel a banana.
...and? Nothin.
It's okay, I'll just break it in the middle. That's a trick my friend David showed me after one of his exotic vacations a few years back. You can break a banana in the middle. Just face the curve away from you, grasp it in both hands, and firmly break it outward, against the curve. It snaps in two, right in the middle. It's kind of amazing, the first time you do it. I guess it's normal for wherever he learned this for people to share their bananas, so they'd break em in the middle, then hand a half to someone else, keeping one for themselves.
But back to the story. I assume the position, and snap-
-no, wait. Snap-
-ergh. So, I try again-
-at this point, there are several Charis-finger-sized grooves in the sides of the banana. No breakage is occurring.
Steam is starting to pour out of my ears.
So, I clipclop down to the kitchen, grab a knife, and cut that previously stubborn top off.
The banana was not quite ripe (can you tell?) but I ate it anyway, even the slightly softer-than-yummy middle (where I'd crushed the darned thing). Then, at the end where there's only about 2 inches of banana left, and where I always pull it out of the peel and toss the peel, then finish the banana, the bottom broke off.
I think it was the banana's way of flipping me the bird.
I said to it "I'm sick of you banana" (mentally, of course) and threw the peel, and last inch and a half of banana, into the trash.
So there.
With a banana.
I won, I think.
This is not to be confused with the epic battle of '04 after which the Gainesville spider the size of my hand played dead as I looked away, so when my adrenaline decreased adequately for me to clean it up, it was gone. Gone like the dead villain in the horror movie, gone. I was scandalized. So I hunted for it and there it was, squeezed into a shadow in the corner, hiding. Let's just say that, after the second battle, even its closest relatives wouldn't've been able to identify the body.
(cue "taps" here)
Oh, and by the way, it was a wolf spider, I later learned:
No, this morning, it was with a banana.
You know when you just have those days? Well, today was one. And all my bruised little heart wanted at 9:20am was to eat my banana, and maybe a couple wheat thins.
The banana was a little green, but still doable, I thought. So, I went to snap the top off, like you do when you peel a banana.
...and? Nothin.
It's okay, I'll just break it in the middle. That's a trick my friend David showed me after one of his exotic vacations a few years back. You can break a banana in the middle. Just face the curve away from you, grasp it in both hands, and firmly break it outward, against the curve. It snaps in two, right in the middle. It's kind of amazing, the first time you do it. I guess it's normal for wherever he learned this for people to share their bananas, so they'd break em in the middle, then hand a half to someone else, keeping one for themselves.
But back to the story. I assume the position, and snap-
-no, wait. Snap-
-ergh. So, I try again-
-at this point, there are several Charis-finger-sized grooves in the sides of the banana. No breakage is occurring.
Steam is starting to pour out of my ears.
So, I clipclop down to the kitchen, grab a knife, and cut that previously stubborn top off.
The banana was not quite ripe (can you tell?) but I ate it anyway, even the slightly softer-than-yummy middle (where I'd crushed the darned thing). Then, at the end where there's only about 2 inches of banana left, and where I always pull it out of the peel and toss the peel, then finish the banana, the bottom broke off.
I think it was the banana's way of flipping me the bird.
I said to it "I'm sick of you banana" (mentally, of course) and threw the peel, and last inch and a half of banana, into the trash.
So there.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Odd Obsession
During my lunch break today I made myself a new bookmark.
I have an unhealthy obsession with leaves.
This new bookmark makes me happy. (I've pressed the leaf for about a month, and just laminated it)
I know that this makes me a dork, and I don't care.
Holiday Recap Part I
This holiday season was busy, to say the least. Let's get started!
On Christmas eve, M and I, being the progressive and modern girls that we are (progressive & modern = impatient and rule-breaking), decided to exchange presents that night, rather than on Christmas Day.
Fun wrapping-paper-taking-off-while-preserving-it-to-make-curly-ribbons-for-future-presents time. (that's all you, M!) It was fun. And I got some awesome presents. TWO copies of a book I've been wanting for years, and though I'm thankful and all, I'm not exactly sure what to do with the extra one now...it's amazing, so I'll probably regift it. That serves as fair warning to the gift-givers, I think. If they read my blog....oh well, doesn't matter :)
Oh, the book is Ingathering by Zenna Henderson. It's odd, but I looove love it. Makes me cry every time.
The next morning, after I did actually open my Mom's present that had arrived a few days prior - a pink GPS! And I'm not a pink person at all, but not gonna lie, I love it. Albeit the fact that I'm an idiot and stood outside in my tank top pj's freezing while I held it out and waited for it to find satellites...
Note: How odd is that? A little box that, in order for it to work, all you need to do is hold it out so it can see the sky, and forever after, it can always tell where you are and where to go and what time you'll get there and how fast you're currently going and....magic! Just sayin. If you didn't understand how it worked, it would be....
....then, we used the ready-to-go magic GPS (that has since been named Clarissa by T, "because she explains it all" hehehe) to get out to M's jumping family's house by Perris, otherwise known as BFE. Just sayin.
Dinner was delicious and included funny stories and amazing food (thanks Pat!), then off to the airport. M dropped me off, eye mask in hand, the flight was delayed 15 minutes which gave us just enough time to swing by home and pick up my amazing leather gloves that I was mourning having left behind (at the airport I got a text from M saying "you know that it's your fault the plane was late. The Universe didn't want you to have cold hands"...) and onto the plane I went.
What's up with having to pay for even ONE checked bag these days? Robbery. Anyway...
On the plane I wound down, got comfy, pulled my sleep mask down, and...
...directly behind me, a baby starts to fuss.
Not proper crying, just fussing. The type that's not bratty or spoiled, but that means that the little one is really uncomfortable. (No wonder, I thought later as I saw the size of the kid and the fact that the parents expected her to sleep all night on one of their laps in a chair that barely reclines...)
I pulled the mask up. She stopped. Pulled it down, she started.
Sigh.
This went on for just about the ENTIRE six-hour flight into Newark. About 4.5 hours in, as the other people in my row are writhing in discomfort similar to the baby's at this point and I can hear the parents whispering threats to her, I was THIS CLOSE to turning around in my chair and asking if they would mind if I just take her and walk her up and down the center aisle. Heck, at least ONE of us would be more comfortable if both of us had to be awake anyway...
But I didn't.
Finally, we arrived! T came to pick me up at the airport (did I mention how painful my withdrawal had grown at this point? Anything less than several hours a day with him is unacceptable...) and the drive started.
Note #1 here: T is amazing. He had to get up at 4am to come get me. And he was smiling.
Note #2: I saw snow for the first time in 5 years! Very, very excited about that. T was less excited about me leaning all the way into his line of vision to get a good picture...
We stopped at Cracker Barrel for breakfast (a must-do for this Californian when on the much-missed east coast) and I ate my delicious food, took pictures of the weird old family photographs next to my table,
And of my T, across my table (and annoyed that I was taking yet ANOTHER picture..):
Then, we were on our way back to Hazleton, to see the fam. And for the band performance that night. That's for another blog.
Have a great day!
On Christmas eve, M and I, being the progressive and modern girls that we are (progressive & modern = impatient and rule-breaking), decided to exchange presents that night, rather than on Christmas Day.
Fun wrapping-paper-taking-off-while-preserving-it-to-make-curly-ribbons-for-future-presents time. (that's all you, M!) It was fun. And I got some awesome presents. TWO copies of a book I've been wanting for years, and though I'm thankful and all, I'm not exactly sure what to do with the extra one now...it's amazing, so I'll probably regift it. That serves as fair warning to the gift-givers, I think. If they read my blog....oh well, doesn't matter :)
Oh, the book is Ingathering by Zenna Henderson. It's odd, but I looove love it. Makes me cry every time.
The next morning, after I did actually open my Mom's present that had arrived a few days prior - a pink GPS! And I'm not a pink person at all, but not gonna lie, I love it. Albeit the fact that I'm an idiot and stood outside in my tank top pj's freezing while I held it out and waited for it to find satellites...
Note: How odd is that? A little box that, in order for it to work, all you need to do is hold it out so it can see the sky, and forever after, it can always tell where you are and where to go and what time you'll get there and how fast you're currently going and....magic! Just sayin. If you didn't understand how it worked, it would be....
....then, we used the ready-to-go magic GPS (that has since been named Clarissa by T, "because she explains it all" hehehe) to get out to M's jumping family's house by Perris, otherwise known as BFE. Just sayin.
Dinner was delicious and included funny stories and amazing food (thanks Pat!), then off to the airport. M dropped me off, eye mask in hand, the flight was delayed 15 minutes which gave us just enough time to swing by home and pick up my amazing leather gloves that I was mourning having left behind (at the airport I got a text from M saying "you know that it's your fault the plane was late. The Universe didn't want you to have cold hands"...) and onto the plane I went.
What's up with having to pay for even ONE checked bag these days? Robbery. Anyway...
On the plane I wound down, got comfy, pulled my sleep mask down, and...
...directly behind me, a baby starts to fuss.
Not proper crying, just fussing. The type that's not bratty or spoiled, but that means that the little one is really uncomfortable. (No wonder, I thought later as I saw the size of the kid and the fact that the parents expected her to sleep all night on one of their laps in a chair that barely reclines...)
I pulled the mask up. She stopped. Pulled it down, she started.
Sigh.
This went on for just about the ENTIRE six-hour flight into Newark. About 4.5 hours in, as the other people in my row are writhing in discomfort similar to the baby's at this point and I can hear the parents whispering threats to her, I was THIS CLOSE to turning around in my chair and asking if they would mind if I just take her and walk her up and down the center aisle. Heck, at least ONE of us would be more comfortable if both of us had to be awake anyway...
But I didn't.
Finally, we arrived! T came to pick me up at the airport (did I mention how painful my withdrawal had grown at this point? Anything less than several hours a day with him is unacceptable...) and the drive started.
Note #1 here: T is amazing. He had to get up at 4am to come get me. And he was smiling.
Note #2: I saw snow for the first time in 5 years! Very, very excited about that. T was less excited about me leaning all the way into his line of vision to get a good picture...
We stopped at Cracker Barrel for breakfast (a must-do for this Californian when on the much-missed east coast) and I ate my delicious food, took pictures of the weird old family photographs next to my table,
And of my T, across my table (and annoyed that I was taking yet ANOTHER picture..):
Then, we were on our way back to Hazleton, to see the fam. And for the band performance that night. That's for another blog.
Have a great day!
Saturday, January 3, 2009
...and they'll come home, wagging their tails behind them...
Happy New Year!!!
Little T, me and big T at 3:30am this morning headed to the airport.
Stand by for updates and pics of the 2008 holidays :)
Little T, me and big T at 3:30am this morning headed to the airport.
Stand by for updates and pics of the 2008 holidays :)
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