If I Had a Million Dollars

What would you do if you had a million dollars? A million dollars you HAD to spend on yourself?

This is the question being asked of me this week in The 52 Lists Project.

BMG and I play a variation of this game a lot, the variation where we fantasize what we would do if we won a fantastical amount of money in the laundry. After many heated arguments, we have a rough plan that involves giving a certain percentage of the winnings to our siblings and their children. We would also designate a certain percentage to be put into a foundation that I would run as my full-time job. And then, whatever is left over, we fantasize about. Sometimes we take a ridiculously extravagant vacation. Other times we buy multiple houses around the world (Paris! London! Hawaii! New York City!). Fancy cars, technology,

I've been a "Your Money or Your Life" person for nearly 15 years, which means I try to be very thoughtful about using my money to help me live my values. So, in the absence of having to compromise with my husband about how to spend my windfall, I would want to spend the money on things or activities that will help me live out my life goals of having a strong center and lots of adventures. This is what I came up with:

Creating a beautiful, peaceful, contemplative home - $711,000
I often think I'd like to live closer to the water, or in a beautifully renovated farmhouse in France. So I started my $1M journey by poking around on Zillow and the internet. I quickly realized that making these dreams a reality would would eat the entire budget. Finding just the right place to live isn't worth $1M. So, instead I'd spent 75% of my budget on:

• Renovating my house (again) from top to bottom, fixing the things we didn't do right with our 2013 renovation, adding space, repairing the things that have broken (e.g., the front porch) since we last renovated
• Hiring a landscape architect to make the yard beautiful - front and back. I'm trying to do it in dribs and drabs, with a shoestring budget and no skill with tasks like masonry. 
• Buying new furniture for the inside of the house to replace the Ikea pieces and the hand-me-downs that I wouldn't call "heirloom" quality

Travel - $192,016
Aside from wanting a beautiful and relaxing home, I'm not much of a 'stuff' person. This may be because I don't have kids, and therefore have no one to pass things down to. Suffice to say that, when I leave this mortal earth, I'd rather leave a legacy of adventure than a pile of things. So, I'd set aside $25% of the budget for the following bucket list travel experiences: .

• I'd take myself on a luxury safari to Africa, combined with a trek to the top of Mt. Kilimanjaro. This is a bucket list item for me. 
• I've long said my 50th birthday trip will be a whitewater rafting down the Grand Canyon with one of my sisters and one of my sisters-in-law. I'd foot the bill for this for everyone.
• Also on my bucket list is seeing every single national park in the U.S. I'd hit the road (and, in some cases, the air) to make this happen over the course of one year.
• I've also said I want to be the kind of aunt who takes her nieces and nephews on a special trip of their choice to celebrate their graduation - from either high school or college - depending on their personal trajectory. So, I'd set aside money to make this happen over the next two to 12 years. 

The only expense not included in either home or travel would be the purchase of a brand new, fully loaded, Subaru Outback, estimated to cost (in 2017 dollars) $45,000. I love my Subara Impreza wagon, but I'd want something with better towing capacity and more amenities. 

That brings me to $950,000. $50K short of the $1M goal. 

If I thought a little bit longer, I'm sure I could spend the remaining $50K. Maybe I'd buy season tickets to the Red Sox for as long as I could, or a shopping spree to replace my entire wardrobe, or maybe set aside money for a fancy gym membership or regular visits to the spa. All of these things would be nice. But, they are not core to to my lifelong happiness. 

So, rather than trying to figure out how to spend the leftovers, I'd plan to put the $50K I can't spend (plus all of the money I'm not spending right away) either into charities that make my heart go pitter pat, and/or in safe investments to earn income that I can use to supplement my paycheck. 

If you had $1M, what would you spend it on? 

Why I Love CES

CES, the Consumer Electronic Show, is held in Vegas the first full week in January.

I love CES. Why? Because I'm home alone for eight full days. Hooray!

This is what CES 2014 looks like to me:

• A rearranged living room - NOW the room makes sense and has more space. I feel like I can fully relax in the space
• The addition of120 square feet of living space to The Tiny Bungalow by clearing out and organizing the office (hooray)
• A fridge full of vegetables and vegetarian, whole grain plans for dinner
• Meals prepared for the next two days 
• A home lit by candles and table lamps - overhead lighting be gone
• No football on Sunday (or Monday or Thursday). Instead I watch re-runs of Bridezillas and Criminal Minds. 

I love BMG. I love the home we share together. And truly take appreciate it when he isn't home. I'm an introvert and I need alone time to keep myself centered and whole.

When BMG is away on business, I only have to clean up after myself. The bed is made EXACTLY the way I like it. I don't have to compromise on what I cook for dinner. I have no excuses to not take 100% responsibility for myself (e.g. "I can't go to the gym after work; I need to get home to make BMG dinner"). I watch whatever I want on television, and sleep so much better absent my true love's snoring. I love finding ways to maximize my alone time so I can be a better Clownface when BMG gets home.

What makes CES really perfect is that it happens at the start of the new year, so those reluctant resolutions I have yet to give voice to have the opportunity to spill out. What is on deck for 2014? More vegetarian and whole foods eating, more stretching and meditation, less TV, continued efforts to have a more regular sleep schedule.

Boy do I love CES.

Out of town

"And there should not be a week's worth of recycling piled up on the counter when I get home."

"I agree."

"I mean, you will do the work necessary to ensure the recycling is in the appropriate place before I get home."

"What?!"

I'm trying to close some home making loopholes before leaving town for seven days of business travel.

There is nothing I hate more than coming home from any trip and having to clean my house. And I married a, well, let's just say I married a person who does not aspire to a clean house.

So I made some rules before leaving town, designed to help ensure my home is moderately tidy when I return from my trip to York, Maine and then Milwaukee, WI on Wednesday, 11/13. Here they are:
1. Dishes will be done, and not piled on the counter or in the sink. Piled in the dishwasher is acceptable, but no preferable.
2. When the trash is full, it will be emptied and the liners replaced.
3. The cat box will be scooped at least twice at least two days apart (meaning it can't be scooped once and then scooped an hour later).
4. Recycling will not be piled on the counter.

On the latter point, my beloved BMG said, "So the lesson here is throw the recycling out and then take out the trash."

To which I replied, "I don't care how you do it, I just don't want to deal with your mess when I get home."

This COULD be the theme of our marriage.

A Household Quiz

You are restocking the medicine cabinet in your bathroom and have two empty boxes that need to be thrown away. 

Oh no! You realize the bathroom waste can is full. 

Do you:

A. Empty the waste can, put in a new liner and throw away the boxes? 

B. Find another trash receptacle in the house to toss the boxes in?

C. Realize these are paperboard and you can simply fold them up and put them with the other paper recycling?

D. Set the trash can on fire? (It IS getting colder outside and you'd rather not pay for heat if you can burn things.)

E. Do this and hope your wife doesn't notice when she gets home?

I'm pretty sure I'm going to blink first on this one. 

I dream of a good night's sleep

I'm not a great sleeper. Anxiety keeps me up at night. And when I'm not feeling anxious, what Buddha called the "monkey mind" keeps me awake. You know the feeling - when you lie down and all of a sudden you are writing a grocery list in bed, or replaying a conversation you had earlier in the day. And when the monkey mind isn't thwarting my dreams, BMG's snoring is.

BMG is a GREAT sleeper. I think a lifetime of being in the hospital helped him learn to sleep wherever and whenever he can. He falls asleep within seconds of slipping beneath the covers. Seconds after that, the noise he refers to as "purring" (and I refer to as "sawing logs") begins.

I try to go to bed before BMG does, so I can at least eliminate the snoring distraction in my effort to get at least six hours of rest before starting the next day. And it isn't unusual for me to take two Tylenol PM (something has to hurt somewhere), ideally with a glass of wine, to speed the process along. What's even better is taking two Tylenol PM with a glass of wine and falling asleep in front of the television, whose inane dialogue makes it impossible for me to hear the thoughts in my brain.

Last night I did the drugs and booze thing, and was pleasantly ready for sleep by 10:00 PM. I kissed BMG twice, and tucked myself into the big bed.

At some point in my dream cycle I woke up because I remember someone telling me the best way to get a good night's sleep was to sleep in the bedroom to the RIGHT of the room I was in. I'm not sure why - something about the pillows being better. I pulled myself out of bed and started to walk to the right. And then I remembered, "There is no bedroom to my right." Confused I determine that my dream was directing me to the second bedroom on the LEFT. So I wander into this room, and start to manipulate the pillows so I can climb in.

And that's when I woke up. And that's when I realized I was having a dream about getting better sleep. And that's when I said, "What the heck, maybe THIS will work." I nestled beneath the covers, fell asleep, and didn't wake up until my alarm went off at 4:51 PM.

I dreamt of getting a good night's sleep, and it worked.

Every Day is Turkey Day

There are many things I love about the sleepy hamlet in which I live. Fifteen miles south of Boston, I have the benefits of being near a major city, but also live within five miles of three beaches.

My house is at the end of an unpaved road, considered a "private way" by the town so they won't have to claim responsibility for paving and plowing. We have a wooded area to the right of the house, separating us from a neighbor. A small pond in the woods to the left of the house is used by neighborhood kids in the winter for outdoor ice hockey games. This helps to make the neighborhood feel idyllic.

What I love best about my neighborhood, however, are the two enormous rafters of wild turkeys that roam the streets. Few things are more delightful to me than espying movement outdoors, poking my nose outside, and seeing fifteen hens, toms and poults grazing under the birdfeeder.

The Difference Between Men and Women

(Or at least the difference between me and BMG)

I planned to be home from work earlier than my usual 5:30 today. I am staffing a charity bike ride all day on Saturday, and expected to spend most of the day at the ride site leading a crew of seven volunteers who stuffing 1,500 "Goody Bags" for the cyclists.

BMG texts me at 1:00 with one word, "Plan?"

I text back immediately with a picture of the volunteer crew with the words, "Almost done- expect we'll be wrapped up by 2."

30 minutes later he switches to Twitter to communicate with me. If he thought for just a microsecond he might have remembered that I was leading a crew working on an assembly line, and might not be checking Twitter. "I'm starved! Might have to go hunt down some McNuggets...."

30 minutes after that he tweets at me again, "Heading to bank and then to get McNuggets, unless you have better idea. ETA? 2:14?"

I've told him I'll likely be done at 2:00. He knows I'm 45 minutes away. So the guesstimate for my arrival? 2:45 at the earliest.

As it happens, I'm done at 1:30. I leave, with my intern in tow, and head to the nearest red line station to send him to his home before I return to the Tiny Seaside Suburb. After I've dropped the intern off, at 2:15, I call BMG.

"Whatcha doing?" I say.

"I'm running around downtown. Did you get my tweets?"

"Yup. Di you go to the bank and McDonalds?"

"Bank yes, but not McDonalds. I've been waiting for you."

"Uhm, you said you were going to get lunch. It is 2:15. I've already eaten lunch. Go get your lunch."

Annoyed, he hangs up.

And this, dear readers, is the difference between BMG and me:

• He tweets in my direction with a vague pronouncement of hunger and a desire for lunch. Not hearing my reply, he automatically assumes that I am on board with his plan to get McNuggets at 2:14 PM.

• I, on the other hand, would do the opposite. If I had heard nothing via Twitter, phone, or text from BMG about my Internet proposal for a midday meal, I would assume I was on my own and go get my own damn lunch.

So would you characterize BMG as an optimist, an extrovert, or a narcissist? And what would you call me?

Top ten list of my least favorite things about my home

What are the features you wish you could change in your home?

We're getting ready to gut The Tiny Bungalow in a very expensive dwelling do over. Here is my top ten list of the qualities of our seaside suburban home I won't miss:
10. The wood that is rotting off the back of the house
9. The entry room that serves no functional purpose but takes up a LOT of space
8. The permanent rot under the bathroom floor
7. The grease stains on the kitchen ceiling
6. The baseboards that start and stop in random places
5. The "pantry" (aka closet in the kitchen) with three foot deep shelves
4. The fireplace island coated with creosote on the inside of the three sided glass insert
3. The slider under the eave that has no gutter and, coincidentally, an enormous amount of mold
2. The stove that has only one functional burner

And the #1 thing about The Tiny Bungalow I won't miss?
1. The laundry that is accessible only by walking outside and around the side of the house.

What would be on your wish list of things to get rid of if you could do your home over?

2011: The year in review

Let's take a look at the milestones of 2011, at least in my personal universe:

January is neutral:

Same old, same old

February is not so great:

Travel to beautiful Sanibel Island, FL to visit my "MIL" and "FIL." "FIL" is dying, so this visit is, in many ways, about saying good-bye to him in a place he loves. Tear ducts - and heart - are preparing for the inevitable.

March is neutral:

The pallor of death casts over everything, making the same old, same old feel hard.

April sucks:

"FIL" dies - devastated beyond belief.

May is high and low:

Prearranged, week-long trip to the Happiest Place on Earth with BMG, my mother, youngest sister and her family. Contrary to all expectations, we have a great time.

The day we get back from Disney World, my favorite cat (sorry Ducky) is struck by a car and killed. Devastation again.

June is steely:

Inspired by a friend who quotes Goethe in Panera, I decide it is really time to look for a new job.

I celebrate my birthday by buying a kayak. Summer fun here I come!

July is neutral:

Same old, same old. Knowing I'll be leaving my job soon (can you say confident?) I don't take a vacation.

August is great:

Bad economy be damned! I have a new job! Quitting the old job is tough, but 100% the right thing to do. I run the Warrior Dash with my friend Sarah and my sister E.

September is great:

Start the new job - transitions are hard and I find them energizing.

October has ups & downs:

Funeral for friend Ellen's mom early in the month, grand opening of Massachusetts' firstWegman's store, and a late month trip to Baltimore to visit with my sister and her kids make this an active and emotionally neutral month.

November is a mixed bag:

Another trip to Florida (that's three this year) for Thanksgiving with BMG and his family; celebrating without the "FIL" is emotionally difficult. I'm glad I'm only there for 3 days.

On the plus side, we are approved for a mortgage to buy our house, and meet with our architect to discuss extensive renovations.

December is a mixed bag:

Happy about Christmas (participate in a sing-a-long in downtown Boston, have a great party at Brasserie JO with BMG and our friend Ellen). We close on the house.

Having my car decommissioned by an MBTA bus puts a damper on the celebratory spirit. A funeral for Lardito's dad was beautiful, and reopened some wounds.

*****

How would I characterize 2011? A year with an enormous amount of major changes. Two deaths, new house AND new job? That is a lot of change for one year. And it will only continue as BMG and I prepare to turn our lives upside down with a major home renovation in 2012.

Looking back on 2011 a toast starts to rattle around in my brain. On new year's eve I will life my winestein high and say,

"Here's to coming out on the other side of 2011 stronger because of all the changes - stronger in attitude and spirit. May 2012 bring more quiet moments to enjoy the blessing of my life from the vantage point of my bike, my kayak or my skis."

Happy end to 2011 and happy 2012!

Joy to the world, er, I mean to me

What joy do the holidays, er, let's face it, I mean Christmas. What joy does Christmas bring to you?

I ask because my Twitter buddy Robyn shared this status update yesterday: "Remember, people, the holidays are conquered one day at a time. Do a little every day and you'll get through."

I LOVE Christmas. I love them so much that I had my outdoor twinkle lights turned on at my house before Thanksgiving this year. The idea of slogging through, or approaching the season with the marauding energy of Attila the Hun, makes my skin crawl. This is the time of year when I want to slow down so I can savor the smell of the tree, reflect on the holiday greetings hanging from the mantle, feel the anticipation of Christmas morning, when my carefully selected presents are finally opened. I want to wring every last moment of joy from them.

But I don't do anything that I don't enjoy. (This is why I don't have kids, and am not a lawyer or investment banker.)

Apparently neither does Robyn's friend Laura, who wrote early in the virtual Facebook discussion, "When some part of the holidays starts to feel like a wretched chore, it's time to drop or change it. Seriously."

Amen* to that! So I "liked" it.

And I started to think, "What are the parts of Christmas that bring me joy? Am I doing all of them?"

Here's my list of holiday joys:

• Having and seeing outdoor light displays, from the ridiculous to the serene
• Browsing elaborate holiday displays; it doesn't matter what is on the display - ornaments, candy, socks - if there is a Christmas feel and an abundance of items on the display I'm all over it like a moth to a flame
• Researching unique - but not extravagant - gifts for, and then shopping for family and friends
• Elaborately wrapping gifts and artfully displaying them under the tree
• Baking cookies, (but not eating them so I give them all away)
• Listening to and singing traditional carols
• Choosing, decorating, and then watching the tree (mine is lit as I write this)
• Opening and displaying holiday greetings that arrive by mail (The Golden Rule or karma or whatever, dictates that I then need to send cards)
• Spending time with my family - opening gifts, eating special foods, and playing with our new toys

What brings joy to you at the holidays? Are you getting enough of it this year? Share your thoughts in the comment section below, or head over to my Facebook page to add your $0.02.

*Does the Christian alternative to Facebook have an "Amen to that" button instead of the "Like" button? It should.

Can this be real?

BMG and I signed our "Purchase and Sales" agreement last night. We finish our mortgage application on Saturday. We meet our architect on Monday.

Are we seriously buying and renovating a house? In the suburbs? Because we've strategically decided this is the best route to have enough money to eventually buy a condo in the city?

I'm having a Talking Heads moment as I contemplate the idea of us moving from wish talk to real life.

Waste not

Our refrigerator crashed last night. Two attempts to reboot it were fruitless, so, at 7:30 this morning I started tossing food that was too sketchy to be recovered. In the tossed pile?

• Three sodden TV dinners


• One nearly full gallon and three partially eaten pints of ice cream


• 1.5 packages of gyoza


• A gazillion pounds of industrial grade hamburger patties


• 1/2 pound of sliced turkey


• 4 slices of Canadian bacon (eh?)


• 1 pint of sour cream


• 1 quart of fat free cottage cheese


• 1 mostly empty bottle of fish sauce, and


• 1 mostly full canister of fat free whipped cream.

I'm proud to report that, with the materials we recovered, we made the following:

• Succotash - 1/2 bag of frozen lima beans, 1/2 bag of frozen corn, and turkey bacon (with Old Bay for flavor)


• Curry chicken salad- 2 pounds of boneless, skinless chicken breasts, poached and tossed with lo-fat mayo and Key Lime juice (+ a bunch of other stuff)


• Mashed cauliflower - head of cauliflower, boiled and then mashed with leftover fresh parm, plain soy milk, and onions and garlic cooked in (turkey) bacon fat, and


• Spanish rice - 1 bag of frozen peas, (rice), 1 jar of salsa, 1 jar of sliced Spanish olives, and leftover cooked hamburger and crispy pork belly

We also cooked 4 steaks, and are hanging on to toaster strudels, all of our eggs (Europeans don't refrigerate eggs, why should we?), 5 pounds of hot dogs and one pound of hot dog minis (don't ask), three types of block cheese, veggie burgers and a host of cookies and spices in the freezer. I steamed green beans for salad, and have roasted asparagus leftover from a nice dinner out that will also be added to salad. Today BMG ate a bag of salami and 1/2 pound of cheese to help with the "eat down."

We could have thrown everything away. A new (to us) fridge comes as early as tomorrow, and as late as Wednesday. We don't have sufficient cold storage, save for the vaguely cool fridge. And every time we open the fridge we lose a little of the cool to the warm air. So, keep food - even cooked food - is a giant pain in the neck.

But...

I hate wasting food more than almost anything else in the world. There are people in the world who are literally dying of hunger and malnutrition. While I know I'll never send my uneaten dinner to the starving kids in China (or Ethiopia, or Boston), I do want to feel like I'm not contributing to the problem by throwing away perfectly good food just because I am inconvenienced by not having a fridge for a short period of time.

PS: Want to see what our fridge used to look like? Take a peek via our 2007 posting on Fridge Watcher.com.

Don't look a gift horse on the Web

From 7:30-8:45 or so this morning I drank coffee, ate pancakes, and read the online version of The Boston Globe.

I "liked" one story about a recent philanthropic gift made by a Boston gazillionnaire. My tweeted commentary on this story was retweeted twice. I tweeted another story from the same online version of the paper, which has led to two separate, albeit short, twitter dialogues. I emailed yet a third story to a friend.

About 15 minutes after I wrapped up the quiet online review of the Sunday paper, I was outside brushing snow off my car so I could make a run to the gym for a quick workout. A car came around the bend of my sleepy street and slowed down in front of my house. I have a 1/2 a kayak on the lawn, waiting for trash day later in the week. I thought the driving was a garbage picker. As his window came down I thought for sure the driver would ask me some questions about the storm-battered boat.

"Is this (insert my address here)?" the driver asked.
"Yes," I answered slowly and suspiciously.
"The Boston Globe would like to give you a free copy of the paper," he said, handing a waterproof package to me.
"Is this because I've been tweeting stories all morning long?" I asked, my suspicion changing to glee.
"Don't know," he replied, "but the free paper lasts until the 23rd. Congrats and enjoy."

Then he drove away.

****

Now I'm not sure there is any correlation between my high use of social networking tools this morning and the free paper.

If there is it seems like a weird incentive. If I'm a high e-user of the paper, and I get a free print copy of the paper, my e-use is likely to go down, at least for the two weeks I get the hard copy delivered to my home. Maybe a better gift would be a free link to my blog or a free copy of The Boston Globe app in the Apple store.

Nevertheless, I am delighted with my free paper. I had actually intended to buy the paper today, so I could enjoy the magazine and the puzzle. About half-way through my e-browsing I remembered this with a Homer Simpson-like "D'oh!"

Now, home from the gym and freshly showered, I'm looking forward to brewing another cup of coffee and enjoying The Boston Globe Magazine. Thank you @bostonupdate.

Awesomely ordinary

I found myself close to happy tears earlier today as I wrapped up four hours of errand running.

I took a minute to consider that I might be confusing tears of sadness with the unfamiliar welling up of a joyful expression.

I didn't think so.

"Why? What happened today that would make me feel so happy?" I wondered to myself. "I had a perfectly ordinary day." This is what I did:

• Got up late (9:30 AM)


• Drank coffee, read the online paper


• Started laundry


• Cleared the hardwoods of clutter and mopped them


• I returned a gift for which I had no receipt with no hassle given
• 
  
• Picked up a special order at the bookstore for my sweetie


• Discovered an item I wanted at Crate and Barrel, while advertised, was no longer available


• Returned a handful of superfluous gifts I purchased for others in exchange for things I needed (bird seed, hair products, birthday cards)


• Braved the long lines at Trader Joes in exchange for $55 worth of coffee, faux meat products and frozen foods


• Drank 12 ounces of carrot juice


• Went on a duck buying odyssey that came up short


• Picked up three books at the library


• Filled the bird feeder


• Emptied the recycling and took out the trash.

Boring, right?

So why so happy?

I think because my day felt like it was completely my own. I felt accomplished in my errands. I didn't let irritating traffic, shopping frustrations, or a lack of nourishing food get me down. And right now, at 4:11 PM on a gray Saturday night, I don't feel like there is anything else I HAVE to do tonight.

So what am I going to do? I've lit candles around the house and am surrounded by a peaceful glow. I'm going to pour a glass of wine soon, start preparations for an early dinner, and then settle into the couch with one of my borrowed books.

Today was perfectly, awesomely, ordinary.

Birds at my feeder

I am mostly ignorant about the creatures who partake of the nearly 2 pounds of feather-friendly kibbles and bits I put in my bird feeder every three days. Someday I'll start researching who is visiting the feeder hanging off the porch.

The birds at my feeder today - at least the ones I could identify - included:

• Chickadees


• Sparrows


• Female cardinal


• Male blue jay


• Female turkeys.

Yup, in addition to feeding nearly a pound of seeds to neighborhood birds and squirrels every day I am apparently also feeding turkeys.

I suppose it is only fair, in a Karmic kind of way, as I have a toasted turkey sandwich every morning for breakfast.

Zukanscrewups:

(or, when life hands you zucchini latkes gone horribly wrong, you make zucchini-ade.)

Finding new and delicious things to do with zucchini has been my mission this summer, a mission made possible by a freakishly productive zucchini plant in the otherwise anemic garden.

On Thursday night I made up a zucchini latke recipe that failed horribly, resulting in massive piles of egg and matzo meal-soaked zucchini strands coating my non-stick griddle. Dejected I scraped the mess up, dumped it into a 1 quart clean wonton soup container, stuffed it into the fridge, and forgot about it.

On Saturday morning I picked two more gigantic zucchini from the garden (along with 3 cups of grape tomatoes, two cucumbers, one "nice first try" head of cauliflower, and one red pepper) and set them all in the dish drainer as I contemplated their fateful trip into my stomach.

This is where the deliciousness comes in.

I find a recipe in my risotto cookbook for zucchini stuffed with risotto topped with handmade tomato sauce. Interesting. So I start. First, I blanch the largest zucchini and set it aside. Then, I get distracted by efforts to make a raspberry/peach pie with handmade whole wheat crust. I get the pie into the oven after struggling with the recipe-free crust and remember I now have to make tomato sauce followed by risotto followed by a period of baking in the oven. Ugh.

I persevere. I chop the grape tomatoes (a fine substitution for the required plum tomatoes). While chopping I'm crisping 1/4 pound of pancetta I bought earlier in the day. I pull the pancetta out of the cast iron dutch oven given to me by Sitboaf and prepare to drop in the tomatoes when I remember I love the smell of onions cooking in pork fat. So I quickly mince 1/8th of an onion and toss it in the pan. Then I remember I harvested a bulb of garlic from the garden this morning and I quickly tear it apart, peeling the tiny tiny cloves. While I'm deconstructing the garlic the onions become soft. Good timing! I press the garlic into the pan of aromatic onion, I scrape the chopped tomatoes from the cutting board into the pan, and enjoy the smell of the sizzle. I'm psyched I'm almost done with this recipe, because I've been cooking for nearly two hours.

Then I remember I still have to make the rice. Ugh. That will add 30 more minutes to this cooking trip. I don't want to cook for another 30 minutes.

And this is where the inspiration hit.

I thought to myself, "I don't need to make rice. I have that shredded zucchini in the fridge." So I pull it out to bring it to room temperature (which is hot, because the oven has been on for two hours. I hollow out the blanched zucchini while the tomatoes continue to soften. When the tomatoes are nearly deconstructed I dumped in the zucchini formerly known as latkes, mix it together and taste. Oh, so delicious! It was hard not to gobble the entire pan.

Restraining myself, because I know I'll be pissed if I eat all of the stuffing without ever putting it into the zucchini, I toss the tasting spoon into the dishwasher, and pull out a new spoon. I then stuff the four hollowed zucchini, cover them with Parmesan cheese, and toss them in the oven for 20 minutes.

That will be dinner for the next two nights at The Tiny Bungalow. Psych!

Compromise at home (or, What would you do differently if your sweetie were away on a trip?)

BMG started a two-week assignment in New Orleans yesterday. I spent most of the day at home, reveling in my temporary bachelorette-dom. Reflecting on my Saturday, while waking up on Sunday morning, I realized there are a host of small things I would do differently if I lived alone. These include:

• Turning the air conditioners to "fan" at night; turning the air conditioners to "fan" when I'm not home for long stretches (I'm not psyched to see our electric bill for the last month.)


• Making the the bed immediately after getting up (My motto? "Working hard to keep cat hair and litter out of the sheets.")


• Turning off the bathroom light, unless I'm in there.


• Lighting candles at night, and leaving them lit until I go to bed.


• Forgetting to shut the fridge door and the dishwasher for longish periods of time (Okay, maybe I do this when BMG is here, but with no one around facetiously and lovingly calling me "The Closer" I have to notice it now.)


• Preparing fewer meals with meat and carbs


• Throwing more food away that I think may trigger a mini binge ("Olive oil chips, you were delicious in Canada, now you are being thrown away.")


• Doing situps and stretches in the middle of the living room at totally random times.

Looking out over the living room in The Tiny Bungalow I'm also aware that I apparently leave abandoned shoes and mail all over the place (I guess I'm a little obsessed with tidiness when there are two of us in the 925 square foot house. One person's clutter is okay. Two people's clutter is too much.)

We all compromise at home. If you didn't have to - if your sweetheart and/or your kids were away on a two-week trip - what do you do differently - consciously or unconsciously? And for those of you single folks who don't live with a partner, what do you think you'd have a hard time compromising in the event you do move in with someone?

The Great Pumpkin - Episode 2 (aka more questions than answers)

So I actually read, well skimmed really, the Giant Pumpkin Book. This is what I learned:

1. There is more to the exciting history of giant pumpkins that I have to learn. Things like the first giant pumpkin weighed in at like 400 pounds. The award winners are now weighing in at 1,400+ pounds. That's a lot of pumpkin.

2. Soil preparation is really important. I need to use manure and sea kelp plant food to enrich my soil.

3. Giant pumpkins can take up to 3,000 square feet of space. I cleared 180 square feet of space for the pumpkin plants. I need to plan for the pumpkins to take over the entire yard. Which still is not 3,000 square feet of space. I need to tell BMG I am taking over the backyard with pumpkins. I'll be standing in front of the mirror, practicing smiling broadly while I say: "Honey! I've got some awesome news. You don't need to mow the yard at all this summer! FTW!"

4. I have left the seedlings too long in their little seedling cups. I may be over watering my seedlings and they may not be getting enough food right now. (Last year my seedlings rotted on the vine because of the wet weather and my ignorance.) I need to work the sad 1.5 cubic feet of manure I bought into the pumpkin seedling prep areas, find and add the sea kelp food, and then plant these little sweethearts right away. But I'm going out of town this weekend and I don't want to plant them if I won't be home to check on them, and water them, and make sure the bunnies don't eat them. I'm anxious about the pumpkins and my ability as a giant pumpkin grower. One MORE reason I'm not a parent.

As this adventure evolves things I'm going to need to pay attention to include:

• Fertilization of the flowers. Nature is SUPPOSED to get pollen from the stamen to the pistil, but if nature doesn't work I need to plan to fertilize by hand. Like IVF, but for pumpkins.
• Trellising and burying the stalks to protect the fruit and encourage growth.
• Fertilizing the fruit with more manure, more kelp and unprocessed compost (e.g. veggie trash)
• Preventing the soil around my pumpkin from getting compacting by building board trails throughout the vine lands.
• The pace and timing of the weight gain of my giant pumpkins. During the last 10-30 days of a giant pumpkin's growth it could gain as much as 25 pounds daily. The pumpkin should be ready by October 15th.

Things I'm now wondering about include:

• Will the bunnies that eat my vegetables also try to eat the pumpkin? I know the kittens have been gnawing on the seedlings' leaves. Will bunnies like them too? What about the red foxes in the neighborhood? And the turkeys, ducks, and coyotes? What are the natural predators of giant pumpkins?
• Speaking of which, how do I keep the obnoxious and violent rug rats who live next door away from the pumpkins? I may need to enlist them as partners in pumpkin care.
• How am I going to get what could be an 800-pound pumpkin out of the backyard? If I can't get the pumpkin out of the yard my dream of an 800-pound jack o-lantern in the front yard may be for naught. Maybe I'll turn it into a carriage that can be rolled into the front yard? I may need to get an engineer on board with this plan.
• Speaking of which, how will I gut and carve an 800-pound pumpkin? Has anyone ever done this? I'm thinking I need to begin planning the carving party sooner rather than later.

I'm going to sign off to take a Valium and practice my speech for BMG about the potential take-over of the yard by the pumpkin. More answers - and certainly more questions - later.