After 25: Taking Stock

Turning 25 was a milestone for me.  Maybe because it's divisible by 5 and I have always enjoyed the 5s in the multiplication tables...so easy....and you can sing them to the tune of Yankee Doodle, starting with 5x5.  (I know you're humming it right now.)  Maybe because 25 is solidly in the 20s and after this it's rounding up to 30, which is truly unimaginable.  Maybe because it totally snuck up on me.  My birthday was months ago but since then I've been taking stock.

I have always suspected that my real personality is that of an 80 year old.  And a fussy, routine-oriented 80 year old at that.  My loving husband confirms this theory. I like prunes, practical shoes, overwhelmingly high thermostat temperatures and libraries.  However, I do not like floral patterns, knee-high nylons and coffee.
I have tried to fight the inner octogenarian but finally realized at 25, there is no escape.  I feel simultaneously that I have reached an acceptable age where my old lady traits can be expressed and also that 25 launched me into a whole new definition of old.  Like listening to country music.  Willingly.  Like having to order things in Petite sizes.  Unwillingly.  Like clucking my tongue and shaking my head when I saw a girl get off the school bus in a snowstorm wearing skinny jeans and slip-on peep-toe heels.  Kids these days.

I am the youngest on my team at work and also the youngest in our office.  When my team found out, they said "...25. You're a baby." and my response was, "I'm 25! I'm not a baby!"  It's a strange age, where some things are settled and some things are not.  Some of my peers are just getting married.  Some are already having les kiddos.  And some are hitting up match service sites and belatedly realizing that 3 of their 4 matches are spam accounts.

No judgement here.  Those spammers are good at their jobs.

At 25, I'm happy.  I have a husband who is pretty much the bomb, lots of good books on my To Read list, an interesting blogroll and collection of podcasts and enough interest in dabbling to keep me busy through the winter months.  Turns out that 25 is not as bad as I thought.  And neither is country music, bless it's twangy little heart.

Sorry, Hips. It's That Time of Year Again

Last week, I read that the average American gains 7-12 pounds between Halloween and Christmas.  That's approximately a pound a week.  That's a cookie here and a cookie there and avoiding the freezing temperatures by curling up on the couch.  Maybe with a bunch of cookies.  I totally get it.  When I get up in the morning and it's dark and I sit at my desk all day and it's dark and I come home and it's dark, I'd like a cookie or five too.  However, in order to help our national average, my patriotic goal is to lose 2 pounds by Christmas.  And 1 of those is the pound I put on over Thanksgiving.  I didn't even need a week.  Just 4 days, thank you very much. 

Here's how the Eating Nelsons earn their nickname:

• Waffles. With peanut butter.
• Sausage patties and bacon.  For these I am thankful.
• Bite size Butterfingers. End of story.
• That chip dip that you make with two blocks of cream cheese and Hormel chili. Plus chips. Yep.
• Pulled pork barbecue sandwiches.  More chips.
• Thanksgiving FEAST - all the usual suspects. In great abundance.
• 5 kinds of pie.  Plus 2 kinds of whipped cream and/or vanilla ice cream.
• Pizza. Plus breadsticks.  Yeah, that really happened.
• Sashimi plate.
• Loaded baked potatoes. More bacon.
• Pork roast et al. 

Needless to say, it was a rather wonderful holiday.  But then, I think it would still have been wonderful even if all we had to eat were ice cubes and celery sticks.

The blogosphere is on fire this time of year with holiday and seasonal recipes.  Gingerbread, peppermint chocolate cookies, beef bourguignon, shrimp alfredo...'tis the season of comfort food.  Although, if you live south of South Dakota, you should be eating lettuce salads and rejoicing in 40 degree temps.  Leave the serious comfort food consumption to us northerners.  We need that extra layer to keep warm.

This is Fear Leaving the Body

All my baking life, I have been afraid of pie crust.  This is a fear that I inherited directly from my mother.  My mother is not a timid cook.  She fearlessly tackles yeast breads of all shapes and sizes and could improvise a delicious meal out of pineapple juice, whole wheat flour and canned tuna but I have heard her bemoan the difficulty of getting a good pie crust to turn out.  So, I just stayed away.  And devoured homemade pie whenever I could get it.

But.

Then this happened.

Please excuse the terrible cell phone pictures...

And then this.

...I had to send proof to my family

And lately this.

...and now share the whole interwebs

 And suddenly, I love to make pie crust!  It takes 5 minutes to mix together and then I just pop it into the fridge and do some other stuff and then it's time to roll it out and fill it with goodness.  An apple pie that turned out to be kind of blah and forgettable (but it wasn't a disaster!), followed by some little hand pies that tasted like McDonald's apple pies and lastly a terrible looking galette that was nonetheless a modest success.  The expression 'easy as pie' didn't come from nowhere and when you start from nothing, there's nowhere to go but up!

The Picky Girl's Guide: Retro 51 Bamboo Tornado (Nifty Spiffy Pen)

I love writing paraphernalia.  Pens, journals, calligraphy, notebooks, cards, stationary, and on and on.  I think one of the great tragedies of life is that there are decreasing opportunities to use a pen and paper for anything more than jotting grocery lists, and I have even emailed those...

When Ryan and I were in Cape Cod, we wandered into a little store named The Paper Tyger that was filled with wonderful paper goods.  I could happily have spent the entire afternoon inspecting everything they had in stock.  In fact, I spent ... quite a while in there, much to Ryan's chagrin.  One of the treasures that I found was this pen.

It's a Retro 51 Bamboo Tornado.  I like the natural look of the wood combined with the brushed nickel and the fact that it is the smoothest ballpoint pen that I have ever written with.  It's on the small side but has nice weight and again, an incredible ink flow.

It makes writing grocery lists a thing of beauty and joy!

Highly recommended by The Picky Girl.

Cookies

Yummy

Ryan made cookies.  The delicious kind.  Not the computer store-your-password-for-you kind.  He made these one lazy Sunday afternoon this summer (and uh, yeah, where did all of those go?). He credits his mad interwebs searching abilities for finding a good recipe, but I know it's because he's a secret little chef inside.

The drying rack is once again filled with wool socks.  I've already made a blueberry crisp and roasted up a big pan of vegetables and have introduced sweaters and tights into my regular wardrobe.  Goodbye, Summer.  Fall is everyone's favorite season but I somehow always forget that Winter is lurking just behind Fall, rubbing his grey, skeletal hands together in glee, swirling ominous black robes and chuckling a Grim Reaper chuckle...

Here's to summer Sunday afternoons.

Tidbits Re: Camping in Medora

• Sometimes the best thing about the country is leaving it.
• Turns out wearing the same shirt for two days then sleeping in it isn't the end of the world.
• Bison are awe inspiring in their natural habitat. No joke.
• My new favorite item of clothing is a grey t-shirt skirt that works in a pinch for a potty run and then doubles as an impromptu nightgown. 
• I am a city girl, through and through.
• Lite Spam singles are actually quite delicious.
• The lift-two-fingers-off-the-steering-wheel-because-we're-in-the-country wave is very heart warming and I wish city folk would adopt this custom.
• North Dakota is 99.4% completely flat.  I know this because I've seen it.
• Hanging out in the hammock, eating sunflower seeds and spitting shells into the wind with my husband is awesome.
• I got the thigh and shoulder workout of my life trying to get a trail horse named Juan Diaz to stop eating sweet clover and to git.
• Showering after not for 4 days is a sweet, sweet relief.
• We saw a SNAAAAAAAAAAKE! while hiking.  Sheer panic.

Great trip, great memories and the hubs got some great pics!  It was a much needed break and a wonderful start to the summer.