tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-66017676692523826362024-03-19T14:20:04.970-07:00Bastia Et CeteraHere, I am the sum of my parts.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-74800576252186428602014-05-29T14:28:00.002-07:002014-05-29T14:28:38.166-07:00A Move, a shift....Come check out my new joint blog with Gabriela over at viceandverses.org. It mostly revolves around writing but attempts inspiration of all kinds. Join us there anytime! Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-87111145763310208222013-03-02T08:46:00.001-08:002013-03-02T08:46:55.101-08:00Celebrate Elizabeth Peters!Or Barbara Michaels, or whatever you want to call her. <br />
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Celebrate the love for this great author, who wrote some of the first strong women characters I ever read. You can share your love for her on the Bookshelves of Doom web site this week:<br />
<a href="https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1MbQDNYwhIxIDmoqgl8Ez-JNgcPWJB3xlLA7vL1IZDmM/viewform?pli=1">https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1MbQDNYwhIxIDmoqgl8Ez-JNgcPWJB3xlLA7vL1IZDmM/viewform?pli=1</a><br />
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Here is what I wrote about her. Though I'm an avid reader, I don't own a lot of books. I'm picky about what's on my shelves. But her books are some of the few I acutally own.<br />
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<span style="color: #351c75;">Elizabeth Peters created heroines who were true role models for me. They are curious, smart, independent, and willful. The romantic banter was always witty and againt, intelligent. And I always closed the book having learned something new about art, geography, or history. To this day, so many years later, I still haven't read books that manage to teach, inspire, and melt my heart the way hers do.</span> <br />
If you haven't read anything by this iconic author, check her out. It's light and heavy at once. These books are mystery and adventure, romance and comedy. It's funny and serious. It's romantic yet not schmarmy. It will teach you new things, in every chapter. Her books manage to be dense yet entertaining. <br />
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She herself is a fascinating character: she has a PhD in Egyptology and is a world traveler herself. She's written so many books you won't even believe the full list. A prolific, colorful character in her own right.<br />
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Hooray for Elizabeth! Entertaining readers and paving the way for strong female characters (and writers)! Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-90703810743612339422013-02-12T13:26:00.000-08:002013-02-12T13:26:05.068-08:00A good deed? Couldn't be.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Happy Mardi Gras, all! I am happy to share a story of a random good deed, all too rare.<br />
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Today we went to the bakery. The line had a few people ahead of us, and my son kept saying, "we're next!" As the person in front of us was called up, the lady leaving with trays of cookies walked over and dangled a giant cookie, wrapped in pretty plastic, in front of my son's face. It seemed like a cruel joke to dangle a cookie in front of a kid, but I played along, and smiled and said something like, "isn't that a fine looking cookie." It hadn't occurred to me that the lady was OFFERING it to my son. Just like that. Just because. I was speechless. Wouldn't you be? Everyone in the shop was smiling as we giggled and I thanked the stranger over and over. And admitted, too, that it was heaps larger than what I'd have bought my son. I'm still smiling when I think of it. People don't <strong><u>DO</u></strong> that kind of thing anymore. They (we) are buried in their phones, their worries, themselves. We don't even see the people around us, let alone do something kind for them. I guess that's why the few good deeds shine even brighter in the face of that.<br />
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As you can see, the cookie was as big as my son's head. And freaking delicious (I ate the arms, and no, it wasn't vegan, so sue me). <br />
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You hear stories of people paying for the toll behind them, or the coffee behind them. They seem more like urban legends, than true tales. Money is short for everyone, and a few dollars extra always seems like too much. My son basically had that cookie for lunch - he loved it. But I loved it even more. It positively made my day. Wherever you are, kind lady, I'm thanking you one more time. And for all the rest of us, myself included, it's a reminder that the little things are big things. This was a big cookie, but the kindness was immeasurable. You gave me hope today. I really, really appreciate it.<br />
<br />Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-75516495109620327342012-08-20T14:27:00.004-07:002012-08-22T10:40:54.973-07:00The Reluctant Vegan: Rules of EngagementOh, you thought I gave up vegan-by-day, did you? Well, not exactly. I have been tinkering with it, but just not writing about it. Veganism and I have come to an understanding. <br />
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What I've found is that when I choose to eat vegan by day, I choose healthier foods with hardly any exceptions. A salad is always better for you than a leftover slice of pizza. Rice is usually better than lasagna, etc. But I didn't begin this journey to cut out animal products; I began to start thinking about what foods I prioritize throughout the day. Eating vegan has helped me do that in ways that a food diary never could. I am paying attention to what I eat. For me at least, that's more than half the battle. <br />
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But. There are some exceptions I've come to understand, that make life easier for myself than others. I have come to the conclusion that I will eat vegan until dinner, with the following exceptions:<br />
<ul>
<li>Milk in my coffee. I make a light-and-sweet decaf every morning, and most afternoons. (Sometimes if I'm feeling weary, I make a half-caf. Yeah, I know, I'm a party animal.) I've mentioned the <a href="http://bastiaetcetera.blogspot.com/2012/04/reluctant-vegan-day-1.html" target="_blank">soymilk curdling</a>, and almond milk does the same thing, and the rice milk, well, it's ok but it is full of carbs. Again, I am cutting out animal products to help me make healthy choices. The qualities of fat-free cow's milk are more in line with what I want out of food right now, so I will stick to it. </li>
<li>Yogurt. I hear the jury is once again out on whether yogurt is actually good for you. For my part, I make my own granola, and it's a daytime staple for me. It's chock full of healthy seeds and nuts, low in sugar, and I don't like to eat it dry. If I eat it with milk, it's not as filling, so I choose plain yogurt. It travels well when I work, is convenient to buy, and keeps me eating granola, which is the best part.</li>
<li>Costco samples. I do like to occasionally taste their brie around 2 pm when I shop. </li>
<li>When I'm sick, I might want chicken soup for lunch. So sue me.</li>
<li>When vegan isn't the healthier choice. Have you ever compared the nutritional content of peanut butter vs. butter? PB doesn't fare all that well. Our spreadable butter is partly canola oil anyway. It is probably better for my arteries if I spread the little bit required to make toast tastier, than the even-more PB it takes to make toast yummy. PB is the vegan choice, but it doesn't always make sense in the context of my diet. </li>
<li>Fish. Because I believe more fish in a diet is better, and I won't turn down the opportunity just because it's before 6 pm. </li>
<li>Politeness. Recently I was at a family reunion where the picnic food was sandwich fare. Had I stuck to my vegan, I would have had white bread and potato chips for lunch, which wouldn't be healthy at all. It is against every fiber of my being to request special food unless it is an allergy. So throwing a slice of cheese and/or turkey on the white bread did more good than harm. There are other situations - like having guests in town and eating out at lunch - when I could be a real buzzkill. I would rather not do this. </li>
<li>Though it hasn't happened yet, I reserve the right to consume regional specialties while traveling, even if they are offered before dinnertime. </li>
</ul>
So after reading this list, you might be thinking: what the HELL? You're not vegan at all! Well, actually, wait a minute. As I have said before, I am choosing this diet based not on a revulsion of animal product or political stance against their consumption. I am choosing a healthy road, which I am finding more and more connects with, if not runs parallel to, vegan living. Let me tell you about what IS working well, also.<br />
<ul>
<li>Snacks. If you kept a food diary, you'd probably be surprised at how much snacking contributes to your daily intake. My snacking habits have changed completely since I started eating vegan. My old snacks were leftovers of any kind, or pieces of cheese. Now that that's out of the picture, I choose fruit or veg, like banana or celery with PB. I choose nuts, triscuits, or sunflower seeds if I want something salty. </li>
<li>Lunch. Lunch has always been hard for me because I'm also cooking for 3 little ones, and their leftover chicken dinos tempt me. This is strange - they actually don't tempt me anymore. On the rare occasion I take a bite, they taste kind-of gross now. Salads, rice, lentils and all that healthy shit you walk past because you don't know how to cook it - that stuff actually tastes good, if done right. It takes more time to prepare, yes it does. But I now wouldn't have it any other way.</li>
<li>Baking. I bake a lot, and though I don't think the occasional egg or buttermilk is going to hurt my long-term diet, figuring out the vegan has been a puzzle I like to crack. I can whip up chocolate chip cookies from <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Vegan-Cookies-Invade-Your-Cookie/dp/160094048X" target="_blank">Vegan Cookies Invade Your Cookie Jar</a> and I have stopped counting the number of people whose mouths drop open when told they are vegan. Bob's Red Mill makes a mean egg substitute - that if you're reading nutritional facts, is far better for you than egg. </li>
</ul>
More on the rest later. What do you think of this list? Anything you would add or subtract?Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-27142941420541924722012-08-04T21:02:00.002-07:002012-08-04T21:03:31.582-07:00Cinderella's RaincoatFrom about 2000, because everything old is new again:<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">
<u>Cinderella's Raincoat</u></span><br /><br />It rained on Cinderella, you know:<br />an hour before the pumpkin turned<br /> she got wet<br /> after the ball<br />And her hair came down<br />And her make-up ran<br />She slipped into his puddle<br /> and her slipper slipped off<br /><br />Cinderella had a raincoat, you see:<br />sometime before riches fell to rags<br /> Prince Charming<br /> at the ball<br />Didn't offer his coat<br />because he wanted to know<br />if she would put hers on<br />She kept heart through his puddles<br /> and kept her own heart dry<br /><br />Cinderella's raincoat wasn't yellow, after all;<br />at 11:00 on that magical night<br /> She shivered<br /> from the fall<br />Her coat dropped to the floor<br />And her hair came down<br />And her make-up rain<br />The slipper didn't even need to fit<br /> because Cinderella's raincoat<br /> was<br /> her<br /> skin. Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-29319357509322624292012-05-21T12:52:00.002-07:002012-05-21T12:52:44.889-07:00Vegan leftovers....or not...I am the only person in my household who eats leftovers. The children barely like their dinners the first time (unelss pizza or pasta, of course), and my husband just doesn't care for heavier lunches...so that privilege/responsibility falls to me. I love it. I always have something to bring to work, and I never have to answer the question, "what's for lunch?"<br />
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Since becoming vegan by day, leftovers have been an issue. For dinners, I always make enough food in case everyone wants 2 servings - so sue me, it's the Italian in me. The kids are wild cards, loving pork chops one day and hating the next. And I feel physical pain when someone is digging in the pan for the last sausage and there aren't any left. As a consequence, there are almost always leftovers. And now, where do they go?<br />
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Some of them get fed to others. Otherwise, I have to get creative. One of my favorite things to cook is a big roast-like meal on a Sunday. But now I know that roasted meat will sit there unless I use it, so I have to plan two meals for the meat, not just one. I'm a planner, and this is ok. In a way, better, because we have less waste. Reworking one meal into another has been a fun creative challenge, a real positive side-effect of the Vegan Experiment.<br />
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Overall, though, this month I think we've wasted more food than we've saved. I need to figure out what to do with that second-day food. Not all meats are as easy to rework as roasted chicken - sometimes it's chicken already doused in cream sauce, or pork with a distinctive Mexican blend of spices. How many quesadillas can this family eat? I guess the first step would be to prepare less for dinner, but that is going to be hard for me. <br />
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What do you do with your leftovers? How do we reduce this waste? Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-59379377160960814512012-04-30T10:09:00.001-07:002012-04-30T10:09:31.423-07:00The Death of the Mommy TaxI know I'm not the only mother who does this: eat my kids' leftovers. Those buttery frozen waffle crusts are pretty awesome. Now, I know some people are grossed out by this - some mothers, even (I think of you, <a href="http://www.scarymommy.com/" target="_blank">Jill Smokler</a>!). I wish I could be more like you, Jill. I wish I weren't tempted by those little crusts. <br />
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I used to always joke that those leftovers had no calories. But sadly, that's not true. And now, with my vegan-until-6 routine, many of these tempting leftovers are off-limits for another reason. Those buttery crusts don't fit the mold. Neither does the crispy chicken nugget, the half of cheese taquito, or the small scoop of mac 'n cheese left in the pot. <br />
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This morning, I pb-ed my toast and buttered theirs. I composted the little crusts, and enjoyed eating the ends of their bananas (sorry, Jill). On the way home from our walk, I stopped in the mini-mart to get some milk. Of course they asked for little chocolate milks, and I did buy them. <br />
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Here is where I have to explain the 'Mama tax.' Often when I open a treat for the kids, I take some before giving it to them. I call it the Mama Tax. They tolerate it grudgingly, like people tolerate all taxes grudgingly. When I open special milks, for example, I often take a chug first. The bottles are very full and spill-prone, so I'm helping us all out. Plus, Jill Smokler would be proud - no backwash.<br />
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Except this morning, I couldn't do that. Because, vegan. I love that creamy chocolate milk, but the Mama tax is no more. <br />
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They left some in their bottles, and those bottles are in the fridge. When 6 pm comes, I am digging in.<br />
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Which leads me to think that either 1)I need to get used to this diet, so that it doesn't feel like a deprivation, or 2) it's not working for me. I have never been a binge eater, but suddenly I feel like cramming my face at dinner, when I know I can. And it's only been 4 days. Is this something I have to get used to, or is it simply a model that doesn't fit me? Time will tell; I'm not giving up yet.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-12617115062229765842012-04-25T13:22:00.000-07:002012-04-25T13:22:26.080-07:00The Reluctant Vegan, moving alongToday was the easiest yet, simplicity-wise. <br />
<ul>
<li>For breakfast, I tried chestnut butter on toast. It didn't move me. This is partly because a) I used rye bread. Not sure what I was thinking, but it was leftover and I thought it would be ok. It wasn't. b) I prefer savory breakfasts to sweet. How can I make for a savory breakfast that I can take with me to work?</li>
<li>I had another of my husband's great meals, which was a mystery until I opened the container. It was rice, tuna (I know, not strictly vegan), olives, roasted peppers, herbs and dressing. It was awesome. Again, so fulfilling, and reminding me that with a little effort, this is no problem.</li>
<li>I had to get a few groceries and stopped at a more upscale store than my usual. They have lots of vegan treats, so I scored myself a very good brownie. It was delicious, but tasted like...a vegan brownie. It really did taste like something was missing. But honestly, after a few bites, I didn't really notice. And it was very filling, and I didn't even finish it. I gave the rest to my son and he didn't seem to notice any difference, either. Anyway this brings up an interesting point, that I'm sure most people already know: going vegan doesn't at ALL equate to losing weight. The reason Bittman did it half-way was for overall healthy eating, and that's my reasoning too. Paying more attention to what's in my food is the goal here. Losing weight will be nice, and probably will come along for the ride. But hey, giant bowls of spaghetti with olive oil or sauce is vegan. Vegan brownies are vegan. Peanut butter is vegan. You could gain a lot of weight on this diet. Variety is the key here.</li>
<li>For dinner we had pancakes and sausage. The pancakes themselves were vegan, and the sausages were fresh and tasted better than ever. I rushed out to a meeting, and here's the bad part: when I came home around 9, I stuffed down another sausage, cold from the fridge. I knew I wouldn't be able to eat the leftovers tomorrow like I used to, and I just wanted to savor the taste of sausage a little more. Who knew I was that attached to meat?</li>
</ul>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-29460220357128473462012-04-24T14:04:00.000-07:002012-04-24T14:04:42.643-07:00The Reluctant Vegan, weekend editionAh, the weekend. That lazy, cozy time when many people are up frying bacon and eggs. Not I! Partly because with three little kids, that lazy cozy time consists of rubbing your eyes while little hands are banging on your bedroom door at 6 a.m., telling you it's time to wake up. I'd gladly give up the bacon anyway, for another hour's sleep.<br />
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Saturday the kids and I were going out to lunch, which posed a challenge. I could take them where they wanted to go (always read: McDonalds) and either bring something to eat, or order an unfulfilling iceberg salad. Eventually I decided on subway. I had a nice veggie sandwich...and I think I actually felt physical pain when I said the words "no cheese." I have to admit though, that I didn't miss it that much on the sandwich. I already think cheetos are kind of gross so my kids' meals didn't tempt me all that much. I DID dunk my crusty end into my son's meatball sauce, so technically I crossed the line. So, bite me. The sauce was pretty good.<br />
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Saturday was a cranky vegan day. We were out of soy milk so I drank my coffee black, and that is NOT a good way to start the day. Why didn't I just use regular milk? Discipline, man. It's a slippery slope. <br />
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Sunday was a bit better. As I type this, it's Sunday morning, and there are exactly 1.5 buttered blueberry waffles and .7 muffin left on the dining room table. Had it been last Sunday I would have eaten them, though I'm not particularly hungry. Do I need to go all the way to vegan to stop eating my kids' leftovers? Perhaps. But the dunking in meaty tomato sauce will never stop. It's hard-wired, friends. HARD-WIRED.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-31634655689085168462012-04-23T08:55:00.001-07:002012-04-23T08:55:29.419-07:00The Reluctant Vegan, day 4This day was a tricky one: I'm having a friend over for lunch. I am fine with making exceptions for going out to lunch, but this friend comes weekly, and we eat leftovers from the night before for lunch. I love planning meals for the night before her visit that will create yummy leftovers - it's a fun challenge. And I don't want to be a poor hostess and eat something different than my guest. So I wanted to plan a meal for last night's dinner that would make for vegan leftovers today. Thus, the pumpkin pancakes. Instead of the sausage I bought vegan sausages at the fancy grocery store yesterday.<br />
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Lunch was good except that the soy sausages were...in a word...gross. So gross that my friend and I dumped them into the compost bin with relish. We agreed that if we truly couldn't eat any meat, and hadn't for a while, maybe they'd be good, but since we're still basically meat-eaters, there was no comparison. Maybe there isn't supposed to be. Either way, pass.<br />
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I also make cookies most of the time when my friend is here, so I attempted vegan cookies. They were actually very good except that the carob tasted more unlike chocolate than ever before. Maybe the eggs and butter mask its tepid flavor when I use it elsewhere. Note to self: hunt for dairy-free chocolate. Like shangri-la, I believe it exists but eludes me.<br />
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This brings up all kinds of issues of being a good host or friend by day, while sticking to a new regime. Food is such a social, central part of our lives. How do you walk this line?Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-4916962018665243472012-04-22T09:23:00.000-07:002012-04-22T09:23:58.768-07:00The Reluctant Vegan, Day 2New day, same vegan. Today I don't work. This is easier in that I have my whole kitchen at my disposal, but harder in that I have kids to cook for. They are not sharing my vegan experiment, and their leftovers constantly call my name. I successfully navigate away from the frozen buttered waffles and mac and cheese, and search for other fare. <br />
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What I learned today:<br />
<ul>
<li>Oatmeal for breakfast was tasty, but still didn't sustain me long. Neither did my chunky salad at 10 a.m. The only thing that held me over today was - surprise! - my husband's white beans. He prepared them with garlic, tarragon, and a warm vinaigrette with a sweet vinegar, and they were awesome. THIS is the right kind of eating. It doesn't feel deprived in the least, and was completely satisfying.</li>
<li>It is still unwise to exercise on a full stomach, even if that stomach is full of vegan food.</li>
<li>I find myself successfully resisting cheese and cold cuts as snacks. I turn instead to nuts and toast with peanut butter. </li>
<li>Always the student, I want to get more creative. I order a few vegan cookbooks from the library. I want to see what we can do without using soy-based meat mimics. I think I can feel satisfied without the taste or texture of meat. The possibilities are already almost endless. </li>
<li>For dinner we have pizza. My homemade sauce is meat-based only in that the meatballs that cook in it give it flavor. I find myself wondering whether I can make a good sauce without the meat. Mushrooms are probably my best bet. I'll look into it. </li>
</ul>
Today was better than yesterday. Looking forward to the challenge ahead, which isn't that much of a challenge, because I am an equal opportunity eater.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-43334975225652854292012-04-20T09:05:00.000-07:002012-04-20T09:05:13.800-07:00The Reluctant Vegan, Day 1The night before my Vegan-until-6 experiment... I feel unsettled. I can't figure out what to pack for lunch the next day. Usually I take leftovers, which are decidedly not vegan (and won't be, either, if I continue to stop the vegan by 6). My husband steps in, and starts whipping up concoctions. In no time at all he has white beans in the slow cooker, and tupperware containers lined up.<br />
I'm nervous about the 'rules.' Do vegans eat fish, and can I eat fish even if vegans don't? Am I allowed to lick the cheese off my fingers when I serve burritos to my kids for lunch? I pack up a littany of random foods (because the beans aren't done yet) and sleep on it. <br />
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For day 1, my answers become clear. Yes, I am going to allow myself some fish, at least this week (even though I've learned that strictly speaking, vegans don't). And no, I am not going to lick the cheese off my fingers. Here is what I learned my first day of vegan-until-six:<br />
<ul><li>Soy milk is a fine replacement for cow milk, except that it does break down in my coffee. This tastes the same but is unpleasant to look at. If I wanted tofu in my coffee I would have chunked it in there myself. Solution: change coffees, shake the milk really hard, or use a covered travel mug so I don't have to look at it. Still tastes great.</li>
<li>Avocados are so awesome as to be their own reward. Score one for the vegans.</li>
<li>Most of what I ate today was snacks, and not full meals. I never really felt satisfied. I need to come up with meals that are sustaining, and not piecemeal fruits and veg. There is more out there. For breakfast, I will consider oatmeal and toast with peanut butter.</li>
<li>Bananas and walnuts go great together as a snack.</li>
<li>No matter how many cucumber and carrot sticks I pack, I will eat none of them. I might as well be on the "starve until dinner" diet if I do that. I do enjoy a good celery stick with pb. Is this going to become the pb diet?</li>
<li>It so happens that we were going for burgers tonight, so the change in daily diet didn't seem so big when I knew I could eat something meaty and special later. Mind you, we don't eat a huge amount of meat to begin with; beef is a treat. This is a metaphor, I think, for the whole idea. It's a paradigm shift: if I think of meat as a sometimes-thing, it opens up new ideas for other meals. But, by the time I got to that burger, I was ravenous. This isn't how it should be. It's going to take a while to strike this balance. </li>
<li>I'm really looking forward to those beans. What's in store for tomorrow?</li>
</ul>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-47827927470131193852012-04-19T15:01:00.001-07:002012-04-19T15:26:26.525-07:00The Relcuctant VeganFor a long time, I've been fascinated by <a href="http://markbittman.com/" target="_blank">Mark Bittman's</a> idea of being <a href="http://well.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/02/27/vegan-before-dinnertime/" target="_blank">Vegan until 6 pm</a>. It was a matter of health, but as a food writer and meat-enjoyer, Bittman didn't want to cut out meat altogether. This guideline seems to work well for him, and I think it would work for me too. I don't have Bittman's health profile; but I'm interested in lowering my blood pressure, dropping some pounds, and eating a healthy and sustainable diet. I also like being creative with food. So it's time.<br />
<br />
Here's what hasn't worked for me:<br />
<ul><li>Saying, "I'm trying to cut back on meat." For me, the guideline has to be specific and rigid, like the 6 pm cut-off. It's easy to do every day, instead of trying to define daily what 'less meat' actually means.</li>
<li>Dieting by deprivation. I, like many of my generation, have tried more soup diets than I can name. I've tried the milk-and-bananas, the cabbage, the slim-fast. They work, for a time, but they're not fun. I already do a lot of things that aren't fun. So food deprivation is out.</li>
<li>Giving up any food completely (unless I don't like it). If I want to eat something, I'm going to eat it. The question here, is when. Can I wait until 6 pm to eat meat/dairy/eggs? Let's find out!</li>
</ul>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-40118644499973777362012-04-11T09:31:00.000-07:002012-04-11T09:31:15.331-07:00Grandma, revisited.As my mother is here, and as we're closer than ever, and as we are still remembering, discussing, memorializing my grandmother, it's time to post this poem. I wrote it while I was making her meatball recipe for my favorite cousin. He was the first family - other than my mother - that I've seen since she passed away, and it was healing and it was wonderful. She left so much good behind her, it's almost hard being sad.<br />
<br />
<u>Grandma</u><br />
<br />
I know things my grandmother knows. <br />
<br />
I know the icy plunge of warm hands into cold meat, squeezing and turning the bread, the eggs, the cheese.<br />
<br />
I know that the 26th day of the month brings a celebration of love.<br />
<br />
I know the pain, and the joy, of newborn babies: a son, a daughter, a son.<br />
<br />
I have put the knot in the yellow scarf.<br />
<br />
I have tied the bow of the pink apron over my back. <br />
<br />
I have loved a good man.<br />
<br />
I have fastened the pearls. <br />
<br />
I have stood over the stove as she did, frying dough and tossing into waiting little hands: my son, my daughter, my son.<br />
<br />
I know love. Love from the family that made me, and love from the family I made. <br />
<br />
I know the things that my grandmother knows. Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-49165379605249414962012-03-07T13:56:00.001-08:002012-03-07T14:13:18.038-08:00R.I.P. Davy JonesI started this blog in the first place because I missed <a href="http://bastiaetcetera.blogspot.com/2011/11/important-thing-1-jani-lane.html" target="_blank">Jani Lane</a> so much. Yeah, you read that right. I didn't want to talk in a public place about my children, my work, or my writing. I have many loves and hobbies, and despite years of message boards, none of these interests had ever called me to blog. When Jani died I was compelled. I knew no one who loved him as I did, and I thought that even if I were the tree falling in a lonely forest, I could make a sound. I thought that having a public way to express my grief would help, and it did.<br />
<br />
Before there was Jani, there was the Monkees. Their 20th anniversary hit me right at the cusp of adolescence, in all its obsessive glory. There were pictures in my locker, scrapbooks of lyrics, hours of fantasy with a very groovy soundtrack. I still have the scrapbook, the music, and a replica of the necklace Davy Jones wore in the daydream believer video. I have been wearing it for the past week. <br />
<br />
I, like most, think that Davy died too young. But, he did get to see his music redeemed (which is something Jani Lane will never get to do). He did get good write-ups in <em>Rolling Stone; </em>his music is understood, and loved, now. Before the fickle world gave in to the Monkees' charms, many of their fans were already there, and I was one of them. <br />
<br />
My children are familiar with the songs "Pillow Time," "Daydream Believer," "Sometime in the Morning," "I Wanna Be Free," and "As We Go Along," because I have sung them as lullabies since they were born. As I said in my first post here about Jani, that's maybe the best gift I can give back. It's the least I can do after Davy, unknowlingly, led me through my troubles with song, and led me to this very moment.<br />
<br />
Wordworth said, hundreds of years ago,<br />
"What we have loved, <br />
Others will love, and we will teach them how". Rest in Peace Davy, for we will keep you alive.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/ZfZzAc9ce98?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-3848925262953572862012-01-31T19:32:00.000-08:002012-01-31T19:32:29.494-08:00Wear your pink wig. <span style="font-family: inherit;">My three kids are very small. Small enough that our lessons are still one way: I teach them things, and they absorb them like little sponges. It's occurred to me that one day, these lessons will start to go the other way, that I will also learn from them. I figured it would be through what they get at school, like the diameter of Jupiter or something. I figured these lessons would be academic. </span><div class="yiv1662364857ms__id9156 ms__id8859" style="background-color: white; color: black; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12pt;"><div id="yui_3_2_0_24_132804830052253"><span class="tab" id="yui_3_2_0_24_132804830052259"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I'm not the kind of person who goes looking for lessons babies can teach. Yes, they cry it out and get over it; yes, they prioritize play. Yes, their bodies and minds are flexible. Yes, they have fewer prejudices. But they also have nothing else to do all day, and minimal life experience. It's obvious. That said, there are the moments when I look at one of my small children and think, I could take a page from that book. And I do, for a while, and then I forget that I had. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> I don't know by what standards I'm a snappy dresser, but by any standard, I'm a flashy one. I dress to stand out, with bright colors and funky shoes. Now that I'm a mother, turning heads seems like one-of-those-things-you-shouldn't-do. Women get to a certain age, and it seems, are supposed to become autumnal. Neutrals only, please.</span></span></div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> My daughter hasn't learned this lesson yet; of course not; she's 5. She wears whatever the hell she wants, and people think it's adorable. Pants with skirts, mismatched prints, two different shoes...you name it, she's done it. It doesn't even occur to her she shouldn't. And every time she does (which is nearly every day) I have one of those moments, those I-could-learn-from-this moments. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> Until this one time. She's been begging for a pink wig and the last time we were out shopping, what do you know. She wore it all the way home (and proceeded to tell me proudly she was finally a blonde). Anyway, the day of ballet class came, and the pink wig emerged. I was surprised she wanted to wear it, but hey, in her eyes it's the most glamorous thing she owns. So on it went. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> That wig - which makes her hot and itchy most of the time - <strong>did not come off the whole class. </strong>She fussed with it a few times, and otherwise, treated it like any other permanent body part. I overheard girls by the studio window telling their moms, "Look! That girl has pink hair!" "Cool!" said the moms, and kept on walking. No one thought she was a nut and, if they had, she wouldn't have noticed. She was too busy being glamorous. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> I know there are boundaries. I know that we have impressions to make. I know that sometimes we have to act our age. But most of the time, we don't. This was one time my girl taught me a lesson and it stuck. I have a pink wig too - it's in the Halloween bin. But it's the metaphor that matters. My pink wig might be my knee-high sneakers. It might be my big eye makeup. It might be my saucy attitude. Not every day; she knows that much. <em>Some</em> days are right for the pink wig. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"></span> </div><div><span class="tab"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">Wear your pink wig. Sometimes. As long as it's not never. </span></span></div><div><span class="tab"></span> </div></div>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-18946941741413061512012-01-22T12:28:00.000-08:002012-01-22T12:28:58.302-08:00Use it up. Many people know that if you don't wear your pearls every now and then, they'll dull. The natural oils from our skin actually infuses them. Since I inherited my grandmother's pearls, see this is a metaphor for what I'm about to say.<br />
After my grandmother passed away last year, my mom found all kinds of unused items in her drawers. My grandma wore only white sleeveless shirts, and would wear them until they were ragged. Good for her, for not subscribing to the disposable world we now live in. On the other hand, there's a middle ground. When she needed new things, she would get them, and have trouble using them. <br />
I learned countless positive things from my grandmother's life. She was strong, smart, kind, musical, glamorous, funny....I could go on. I am surprised, now, at what I've learned from her death. I do this too, Grandma. I'm afraid to use all these great things. I reach for the worn-out socks before the new ones. I have clothes with tags, make-up I've received as gifts and never cracked open. I'm always waiting for that perfect moment. Suddenly I realize: this moment is NOW.<br />
This, my grandma, combined with timely small lessons in my own life. A lipstick I was saving suddenly is hardened and stinky. A sweater with tags on it, saved from last year, is too big on me now. I never got the chance to enjoy these things. <br />
I'm not saying we should all consume more; quite the opposite. I think that in consuming well and fully the things we have, we will realize better what matters to us. I can better prioritize when I'm not hoarding all the newness. <br />
I resolve to USE IT UP. I will wear my grandma's aprons until they fall apart. I will use the disposable tissue pack that she used to carry. I will wear her scarves, and maybe even her lipstick. I'm not going to save my best things for rainy days, or glamorous days, or special days. Today is that day. <br />
Do you do this too? Do you reach into your jewelry box and shy away from the best things? Do you keep those fancy boots in the back of the closet, because it's not the right moment? Well actually, it is. Pull it out. Use it up and wear it out. You're alive today. It's a beautiful place to be.<br />
Wear your pearls. Whatever they may be. Go wear them. Right now.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-82312982717263476422012-01-12T20:40:00.000-08:002012-01-12T20:40:24.754-08:00Right Hand GirlI have no memory of why I wrote this poem. But it has the theme, like much of my writing, about how unfortunate it is that we're boxed into categories. I hate that my status of 'mother' makes me seemingly incapable of other things now, like being sexy or racy. I hate that being book-smart means you can't be worldly; I hate that classical music and hard rock are different worlds when some people thrive in both. I could go on. But hey, I've got the poem. I still agree with myself, so that's something, right?<br />
<br />
<u><strong>Right Hand Girl</strong></u> (7/23/02)<br />
Without any warmth on my body's right side<br />
I am cold I am lost I am sad petrified<br />
and never did I lose much sleep when I cried<br />
I did it, I did it for love<br />
<br />
As cold as the grave on a September night<br />
I let myself bathe in the cool camera light<br />
and I tell you I never once thought it was right<br />
but I did it, I did it for love<br />
<br />
I never cared much for the beige and the gray<br />
when the pictures were color always anyway<br />
I snuck out the back door, just to run away<br />
even though there was nothing but love<br />
<br />
Indecent and crude and entitled to be<br />
Could I be all that, and also be me?<br />
If I never find out I will never be free<br />
What is it, instead, that I love?<br />
<br />
I did all my headstands like good little girls<br />
I traded my freedom and watched it uncurl<br />
But now when I turn back to my right-hand girl<br />
I do it, I do it for loveBastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-67214335447011399882012-01-08T09:02:00.000-08:002012-01-08T09:02:24.586-08:00everything old is new again - found poem!I have been wanting to put my writing here, and since I just found this poem frmo a few years back (6 to be exact) I thought I'd begin with it. It's called "Over the Moon." I don't remember why I wrote it, but since my first son was born a few months before it I assume it has to do with him.<br />
<br />
Sweet like rice wine<br />
setting me free<br />
You still don't believe<br />
what you see<br />
<br />
Faded emotion<br />
Dry like desert dunes<br />
Yet now you find yourself<br />
over the moon<br />
<br />
Sweet coffee candy<br />
calms me from fear<br />
You refuse to believe<br />
what you hear<br />
<br />
Your circus fears<br />
popped your big blue balloon<br />
Yet still you find yourself<br />
over the moon<br />
<br />
Sweet like the smile<br />
you see as you grow<br />
You will soon learn to trust<br />
what you know<br />
<br />
All your depths uncharted<br />
You'll learn to swim, soon<br />
Once, you could not even look at it<br />
But now<br />
you are<br />
over the moon Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-78462814814161121092012-01-06T09:52:00.000-08:002012-01-06T09:52:49.449-08:00And now, a few words about one of my favorite things: FOOD!<span id="yui_3_2_0_24_132587038511494">Did you see the applesauce section in Everyday Food magazine, with a few variations to try? I decided to try all 4 variations, and last night was our cranberry orange. I made up a chart where each person got to rate it 1-5, with comments. I announced that on applesauce night everyone gets dessert no matter what so that took the pressure off. Dinnertime can be a fight, on other nights. I'm sure this isn't only in my house right? RIGHT? </span><br />
<br />
Anyway, I gave it a 4 - it was great but didn't blow my mind. The kids all gave it a 5, with comments like 'just right ' (#1 son) and 'it's so good' (daughter). I assumed #2 son gave it a 5 because he had 3 servings. My husband's comment was 'very good' but he still only gave it a 2. This is typical of my husband. The two cats gave it a 0 and their comment was 'not enough fish.' I crack myself up sometimes. <br />
<span id="yui_3_2_0_24_132587038511485"></span> <br />
<div id="yui_3_2_0_24_1325870385114109"><span id="yui_3_2_0_24_132587038511488">That's all for me about food. Time to get in the shower while Elmo is still hypnotizing my kids. </span></div>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-25348550228513818232012-01-01T11:50:00.000-08:002012-01-01T11:50:12.211-08:00Happy new year!New Year's has always been my favorite holiday. This, in spite of the fact that I've had some freaking bad new year's eves. On the worst one, I got stood up by a boyfriend. But, what better time to turn over new leaves? I love fresh starts. I love the feeling that today, you can reinvent yourself, begin to be a better person in whatever way you choose. It's liberating, and inspiring. <br />
<br />
I wish you a happy day and a happy 2012.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-5581208134397832772011-12-21T20:42:00.000-08:002011-12-21T20:42:28.221-08:005 Things to Think about as You Stuff Your Face This Holiday Season1. Sugar cookies actually don't taste very good. They're more fun to decorate than to eat. In fact, most things people bake this time of year aren't very good. I can't tell you how many times this week I've put out my hand to take something, then realized it actually wouldn't even be worth it. It's a conspiracy, man.<br />
<br />
2. If children are involved in the making, plating, or serving of any holiday foods, you should abstain. Not only will you save yourself some calories, you might manage not to have a cold on Christmas, either.<br />
<br />
3. You want to look good on New Years Eve, don't you? Put down the second serving of yule cake, sister. Otherwise you might as well slap it on your thighs.<br />
<br />
4. Alcohol counts too. Eat your calories or drink them; they're all going to the same place.<br />
<br />
5. Take time to eat the things you really love this week. The things that make you think of home, and happy moments. What are your best holiday memory-foods? I would love to hear them. Mine are all Italian: <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Feast_of_the_Seven_Fishes" target="_blank">7 fishes</a>, <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Panettone" target="_blank">panettone</a>, stuffed vinegar peppers. Eating them will satisfy you. Even just a few bites will take you where you want to go.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-58886293283531808632011-11-02T14:26:00.000-07:002011-12-21T20:30:37.708-08:00Important Thing #1: Jani Lane<h1>Did you know...</h1><br />
....That Jani Lane died on August 11, 2011?<br />
Did you care? Well, I think you should have.<br />
<br />
He was best known as the lead singer and songwriter for Warrant. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/yEXPx8bFpag?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div><br />
<br />
The reason I started this blog is that when Jani Lane died, I was inconcolable. I didn't know how to tell the world I miss him. Even had he been alive, he wouldn't have heard me saying I thought he was a great talent - or if he had, he might not have cared. So here is my euology. We miss you, Jani.<br />
<br />
Jani was a great talent. He started as a drummer, but had a voice unlike anyone from that era. He could purr and roar equally well. He wrote all of Warrant's songs. He wrote some beauties, but I would listen to him sing anything (and I have). <br />
<br />
The glam rock era was full of men (and a few women) who looked the part and played the part, but few of them had talent that endured. I was a great glam-metal enthusiast, yet I can count on one hand the performers who were also artists. Jani was one of the few. I don't think he got the credit he deserved. I don't know what kind of legacy he wanted to leave the world; it was clear that he didn't want "Cherry Pie" to be it. But few people leave the legacy they want to. <br />
<br />
I and many others around the world honor him by singing his words back to the stereo. I speak highly of him, and share his art. I teach my children his words. I honor him by telling the world that sometimes, when I hear him sing, I think I could take flight. Through the years Jani Lane has continued to give me a deep and enduring gift. I give back to him by incorporating what I knew of him into <em>my </em>life, while I am here. <br />
<br />
The best eulogy I read for Jani was by <a href="http://www.grantland.com/blog/hollywood-prospectus/post/_/id/32502/klosterman-remembers-warrants-jani-lane" target="_blank">Chuck Klosterman</a>, who always seems to hit the nail on the head. <br />
<br />
And finally, my deep regret that I only saw Jani perform (with Warrant) once, a long, long time ago. This poem is for him. RIP Jani. We miss you. A lot.<br />
<br />
<strong><u>118</u></strong><br />
<div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761437">There must have been a moment</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761447">when you heard my voice</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761455">wrapped in thousands of other girls':</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761459">All of us thinking</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761463">we were your biggest fan.</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761467">But you know, </div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761471">one of us had to be right.</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761475">I just want you to know</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761479">that I still hear you</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761483">loud and clear</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_131852218761489">And it warms me to know</div><div id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_1318522187614119">that my voice touched your ears<span class="yiv562005547tab" id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_1318522187614103"></span></div><div><span class="yiv562005547tab" id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_1318522187614105">Even if only</span></div><div><span class="yiv562005547tab" id="yiv562005547yui_3_2_0_17_1318522187614110">Once</span></div>Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6601767669252382636.post-29998023056000524472011-10-21T11:12:00.000-07:002011-10-21T11:12:18.433-07:00Bastia says hello to the world:I am begging you and begging you, to try, just try, to swim to the bottom of me. I can quote you <span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1319220652_1">Plato</span>, and I can quote you Hank. I can beat you at poker, and I can beat you at scrabble. I can hum Beethoven, and I can hum Britney. I can play the violin, and I can play the fiddle. I can make you think, and I can make you sweat. You will never reach the bottom of my depth, no matter how you swim. The deeper you go, the more like Hell it will look. So turn up the heat bit by bit until I boil: I have no place else to be.Bastiahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14121058551675279238noreply@blogger.com0