Root Down

Don't you love it when you come across a new restaurant that's really friggin' cool and serves good food and drinks as well? It's like the stars are aligned on one corner of your world. It feels like an old friend upon first glimpse, like there is some secret kinship you have with the space, the atmosphere. You find yourself wondering when you can come back or who you need to bring back to meet said new BFF (and all of these thoughts occur before you have made your way through the apps). Even if you discover it years after everyone else and your friends say, "Oh yes; I've known about that for centuries. It's fabulous, darling. You simply MUST get over there." And you think, "Yeah I was there last night and I LOVED every minute of it."

That's the kind of place Root Down seems to be. As always, JH had a hot tip on the coolness in Denver and got the ladies to expand their horizons from the regular featured favs. You can imagine how excited I was to discover their desire to be a sustainable, local, organic joint when at all possible. That alone was enough to sell me on the digs, then I walked in and found the reused materials and uber-cool retro/contemporary/dumpster-dived decor and fell head over heals.

From the wall of colored rotary phones to the oversized, photo booth style pictures on both sides of the 50s retro bar, I was in for the ride. It is a fun, delicious place indeed. You simply MUST get over there (and take me with you).

We feasted on Hoisin Duck Confit Sliders, Veggie Burger Sliders, Organic Sweet Potato Fries with a Curry Lime Dunk, King Canyon Ranch Buffalo Sliders, Organic Beet Salad, Grilled Pork Chop, and Croissant Bread Pudding. Apparently the Margaritaville Margarita is a mind-blower and the best $3 marg in town. I choose the house red...now I know for next time.

Once in a Lifetime

Talking Heads

This weekend we found ourselves in a familiar place: our friend's house on the Roaring Fork River in Carbondale. We've been lucky enough to be invited time and again (even with my off-kilter attitude). Each time we go, we find the familiarities of space and habit (such as daydreaming about the future, lovely family-style meals, and racking up the empty vino bottle count) as well as the curiosities of life unfolding. This visit, we found ourselves drawn mostly to the slide show on their TV as it ran through photos from old motorcycles trips, past new years celebrations, birthdays, and plain old Saturday nights. It was good to look back on all the things we have done with faces younger than they are today. Funny how life keeps ticking along and you catch little glimpses of memories or sew together moments from a collection of pieces each friend has in their mind. Soon this weekend will be another story in the box. I wonder what we will remember:

The Olympic Opening Ceremonies
(seriously, who gave the Canadians the car keys? I just had to mention it...)

Birthday Wishes

Droid Tutorials Sweet Baby Cheeks
Overstimulated and Uber-Tired Dogs

Great Views

Outdoor Adventure

Always Delicious Food

Inappropriate Conversation Followed by a Light Fog

and Friends

i heart you

I'm not usually a sucker for the commercialization of a holiday, or an emotion, or a culture for that matter (corned beef on on St. Patty's not included in previous statement). There was however something about this Valentine's Day that struck a little soft spot in my old ticker. I found myself drawn to heart shaped cookies and pink things -- oh-ing and ah-ing each item like it was the most novel symbol of love. Usually I'm not one to play into this crap; life is not about prequalified days, it's about moments wandered into; it's about finding yourself surprisingly present in a place you never expected or imagined.

This year we spent Valentine's Day with friends. Before we left for the long weekend, D passed along some cash to me knowing "the girls" would go shop. My sugar nut wanted me to buy something just because I wanted to, without thinking about the price (yes I am that frugal); really it was a sweet gesture (especially since he suggested a new pair of jeans, which was taken as a compliment to my semi-semi-hotness-ish). Instead I found my sweetheart a treat along the day in the form of a Venison Sausage Cookbook (just what he had been gunning for since Christmas). And yes, treating myself to Le Petit No. 2 Parfum by TokyoMilk (how cute is the name "I Made You a Mixed Tape" - a petit parfum solides scent) I found it at Interiors A La Carte, a cute little boutique in Glenwood Springs. I couldn't bring myself to spend the wade and I'm sorry to say Gingylou didn't bode so well in the gift department, even though she didn't seem to mind once we gave her a carrot.

Perhaps it's our one year wedding anniversary rambling it's way to our front door; or that fact that I've come to enjoy looking at what's around me and finding something in it that makes me happy; or it could just be that I feel lucky to have two great beings in my life; whatever it is, my heartbeat includes their count. Sometimes it's better not to think too much about why life can be so good. We come together in our own way; a way which creates the intimacy of our house and is a feeling only us three truly know. We go to bed at night, sighing about it all as we drift off to dream. We return each morning to one another, gentle touch and light kiss hello.

Even God is Gluten Free

Did I mention I spent a week touring the gluten-free world? A lot of people are vacationing/moving there these days; it's a hot spot. It was a nice visit but honestly I don't think I'll move there. I do not have celiac disease and I did not do it to loose weight. A friend (who does have celiac disease) recommended I try not eating any gluten for a week and then rage for a day to see how or if it affected my system, specifically my allergies. Her theory was that I would surely feel a difference if I had a reaction to gluten after a week of not eating it. I was intrigued.

I figured what's a week worth in trade for some schnoz reprieve. I started that day, I hadn't had any gluten yet and it just seemed natural to flow in to it. A wonderful side effect came when I realized I was so nervous to eat anything, for fear of hidden gluten, that I just ate fruit, veggies, and quinoa. I quickly shed two pounds (ah the secret pleasure to gluten-free eating). An eater at heart, I quickly got over the hump and sank in to partaking in more rounded meals and doing more research.

I began my gluten-free week feeling alienated from not only food but also friends who prepared food that I then wasn't eating. Slowly though, I discovered others who were trying to be gluten-free as well. I found restaurants and food products that cater to that crowd. I also found friends supporting the endeavor by suggesting I try this or that. I hit road blocks in the form of shuffling around the yummy pasta in the soup G prepared for art night. It just felt rude to not eat the meal in it's entirety. At the end of the week, sushi finally did me in. I knew that there was gluten in soy sauce and requested the gluten-free choice, but halfway through the meal D and I did a taste test and found it was shit. It was then that I gravitated into the rolls dolloped in proper soy. The next day I felt hungover though I barely had anything to drink.

Here's the deal: I love WHEAT FLOUR. Not exorbitant amounts of it, not the flavor per se but rather the nice doughy feel. I'm a texture girl and gluten-free living has a certain grainy texture to it. While there's a piece of me that likes that, I also like the smooth round curve of fluffy fresh bread. I could get used to life without it but I don't want to. I'd rather cut down half and treat myself otherwise. Isn't that what allergies are all about: system overload? Am I fouling myself to think I can go halfsies on this gluten-free living. As anything else with my diet philosophy, it's all about moderation.

More than that, I've been open to the conversation about nutrition with friends and family. I've been exposed to other dietary endeavours I might need to explore or considerations people mull in their mouths about their diets. It's a tweaking process of sorts.

My mom and I met for dinner a few weeks ago and she brought me the All Souls newsletter to tell me about the school's 50 year celebration. Facebook already beat her to the punch but as I perused the liturgical publication, I saw a short piece in the question corner regarding gluten intolerance. Apparently there's a low-gluten host option for Communion; parishioners can request it before mass. I guess even God is on-board with this...

The Chain

Part of my new year's resolution is to continue a commitment to nutrition, namely some good old-fashioned food chain values. You know what I mean: eating more fruits and veggies; less vodka - yes, MUCH less vodka; purchasing products with less than 5 ingredients on the package; buying produce from local sellers that have a solid connection to the "the chain" rather than the bottom line of some corporation; and eating at restaurants with a slant towards sustainability.

Food, Inc. had something to do with me taking it to the next level. If you haven't watched it, netflix it my friend! But for me it's really more than just a quest for organic, sustainable eating; it's about treating my body like a system and wanting to put the most optimum things in it. It's about making the food I eat a priority rather than an afterthought. It comes in the form of reserving books at the library like Nourishing Traditions and Sugar Blues. I forget how scientific it all can be, which for me can be alienating. Not that I have bad eating habits, I just don't really think about how food affects my body. Last year when I was trying to loose weight, I naturally gravitated to cleaning up my diet and being conscious of how much went in my body. This year, I am more curious about what happens once it goes down the hatch. I wonder about things like: why eating bread makes me more bloated or just how serious are the physiological effects of sugar on my system. For example, I never really considered how sugar turns into alchohol in the stomach. It's interesting to think about since I'm someone who LOVES sugar and LOVES alcohol. They both garner the same mind-numbing, auto-pilot response from me. Coincidence? I think not.

I spend a lot more time at the grocery store reading labels. I've been breaking up with some of my favorite foods. I've been looking at where items are being shipped from and making it a priority to purchase less packaged goods. D is supportive with these types of "Mailornish Has A Plan" things. When I make grand sweeping discoveries, he relies on his culinary background to help me unravel the facts. He has been preparing more meals and we have been talking about different dinners options to get us out of the food rut. He also helps me find things to do with the unfamiliar red chard I purchased at the store because it was so colorful or takes the kale and combines it with chicken into some fantastic soup.

It's been a good adventure thus far. At times it has been humbling and a bit disgusting (i.e. leafy greens are hard on the system). There are setbacks and imperfections: I discovered a never-ending supply of hot tamales at work that sings to me like a sweet, sweet, sugar-urchin. As I wrestle with the day to day food choices, I relish in the fact that there will still be homemade mac-and-cheese and dessert in my future, and lovely new meals I don't even know about (Chateaubriand).

(P.S. I had to show you this uber-large meatball D created last night. I wish I could put smells online because this thing was tantalizing to the schnoze. Thankfully he broke it down into smaller bits.)

Committed

I'm a commitment-phobe; perhaps a recovering commitment-phobe. In fact, I was secretly doing the "giving thing" for a while before I decided to finally commit to the whole concept and do an official 29 Gifts Round. I figured it would be good conversation for my book club. I figured signing in on the site would make me more accountable, even though I thought it was a bit contrived and not really me (I'm more of a doer not a talk-about-doing doer). And so I stepped in to the commitment not realizing what I was really committing to. Hell it was only 1 month, right?!

Yesterday I realized how much that sheer act of commitment has done for me. Every day I have been accountable for giving something, and in turn I feel like I have received so much. More than that, I decided at the outset to do a blog post every day on that site so I would not forget the gifts. It compelled me to wake up every morning and write, which is my passion, my dream, my balance. Sadly, it is also something I stuff down and keep secretive and leave seemingly out of reach. A few weeks ago, I realized that this blog was me "living the dream". Yes I would love for that dream to include a book contract and publication and yes perhaps I was celebrating the purple ribbon; but for now I was doing something and was inspired enough. It surely came with the mindset reframing that has taken place.

Wednesday night we were watching American Splendor and I found myself inspired by Harvey Pekar, a file clerk who never quite his “day” job but also held on to the idea of doing something “more” with his life. It's ironic coming from a man who has such a down-trodden, negative take on life; but they call him the “everyman comic book hero” and he writes stories about real life. After the movie, I felt like something was missing in the day and I realized I hadn't done a 29 Gifts post yet because I didn’t write that morning. It wasn't the first time that has happened but it was then that I realized I have written almost every day the past few weeks. At the beginning of January, my goal was to journal 10,000 words; I am well over 30,000. It's just a number but it validates something deeper in me.

Thursday morning, I woke up with a renewed sense of habit. Funny to, I bucked my normal routine and took a shower before I went down to write. D was up making coffee before me. When he came upstairs and saw me headed to the bathroom, he said, "Oh I thought you were going downstairs; I turned on your computer and heater." I realized then, that he too was getting used to this commitment and he was supporting it. It made me shine inside.

Afterwards, I was on fire in the basement. I was mentally in a place I hadn't been before. It was as strong as the sheer bouts of joy I have experienced lately but it was more than that. It was about really feeling connected to myself and the life I want to be living. I realized too that last year I stepped in to the one hell of a major commitment by marrying D. I was scared. It was something we both put off for so long but when I said yes, I felt like I was saying yes to life. I spent the rest of the year happily surprised to find how much marriage suited me. I also spent the rest of the year committing to get my body to a size and place I found ideal. That physical change has brought so much clarification and perspective on how I've been living. A year ago I was not this person. I felt like I was glowing.

Walking to work, I remembered a conversation with JK a few days ago when she said she was a commitment-phobe. Re-thinking it, I realized it was there to make me realize what committing does for one's soul. I wondered how many people never commit to their passion in life and yet they show up regularly to jobs they hate or they serve others needs while pushing aside their own. I thought about how much more inspired my life feels when I take care of myself first and how much more I give others when I am in that "space".

I was dying to ask JK if she could commit to an idea, to a desire in her life. When we finally sat down, she said she always associates commitment with the bad things, the obligation. I completely related. We spent two hours having a juicy conversation about this topic. I told her how good I felt and that I thought she should choose to commit to anything that inspires her. Anything and hold tight to it, if only for a month. I wondered what would happen. She said the idea felt like the rabbit hole; like once she got started, there would be no way to go back. She wasn't sure how much life would shift, but she thought it would be huge. I agreed it was scary - you never know what's going to happen. Then again, I told her my bigger fear was not the rabbit hole any longer, it was that this feeling of inspiration and hope and intuitive connection would end.

Is that the secret? To be accountable for who you are and what you do and what you want out of this life? As Jack London said, “You can’t wait for inspiration. You have to go after it with a club.” Yesterday it was so strong, I felt like I was flying. I left M a voice message saying I was spewing happiness. I wanted to say it was a good day, especially since it feels like so often I say it’s a bad day. The lights kept turning green as I approached each intersection walking home. I couldn’t help but think anything was possible.

Sprinkled with Love

Another photo montage?! A birthday tribute of sorts....

How lucky can a girl get? I don't even have photos to commemorate everything that was showered on me in the form of phone calls, texts, and e-mails including a little bird singing me a birfday song on my voice mail; a lovely vino and some chocolate covered strawberries; a new scarf; door-to-door work delivery with a smile; dinner at my favorite Chinese restaurant; game night, which had nothing to do with games; beautiful flowers and sugar-ridden de-lites from Happy Cakes; and to top it off a delicious dinner at Chez Maillet - the hottest bistro in town. I'm not one to drag my day out, but my entrance into 34 felt more like a birthday week. There was no grand party, no fire-ridden cake, but rather a sprinkling of mini-celebrations, which left my heart happy. Thanks!

For you. Yeah, you.

Yesterday I was completely excited and inspired to do my give for the day. I bought a really cute card last weekend (made by a company called Mean Cards), which says “thanks…for nothing.” It makes me laugh every time I read it. I love the sentiment to it – very creative use of a phrase. I had decided it was the perfect card to randomly leave for someone, just to make them smile. I took it a step further and borrowed $5 from my husband’s wallet (planning to return $10) and stuck it in the card with a note saying, “Hope this card makes you smile. Have a good day.” On the outside of the envelope I wrote, “For you. Yeah, you.” and on the backside I wrote, “Go ahead and open me.”

I couldn’t wait to anonymously leave my give. I had decided I would take the light rail in to work and leave the card on my seat. In my imagination, someone would get on the train after me, sit down and find this piece of goodness in their day; perhaps they would laugh at the card and buy a treat for them self; or perhaps they would pass along the magic. It was nothing major, just something extra. The possibilities were endless and I couldn’t wait to send some positive floating out in to the world.

The light rail was empty when I got on. A few stops later, three people got on the train and sat in my section of four seats (out of an almost empty car). One man sat directly across from me. I smiled and said, “Hi”. He said hi as well and we proceeded to move down the line. I started thinking about how I hadn’t planned on anyone sitting across from me. The two women next to us were chatting back and forth and I checked my head to see if, in my giving fantasy, it was a man or a woman who came across the gift. I realized I had not gotten that far in the details but generally assumed a woman would be more open to the experience. The guy kept weirdly staring at my jacket (which made me realize I needed to wash it). He had a plant in an instant oatmeal box and a booger dangling in his nose hair. Admittedly there was a moment when I thought, “I don’t want this guy to get my gift.” Then I realized that thought had NOTHING to do with giving and was precisely opposite of the "positive" I was trying to put out there in to the world. It didn’t belong in this experience; I was just trying to control the situation and my expectations about the giving. The guy was friendly enough – who knows what his day was all about. We awkwardly smiled to each other again between out-the-window stares.

The city grew as we got closer. I realized he would probably notice me leaving the card behind at my stop and try to give it back to me. I started getting anxious about how to deal with the situation. I decided I would coolly respond, “That’s for you” and exit the train. In my head, it was the scene in the movie where the music starts playing and I walk down the city street empowered, as the man in the train glides off in confusion and wonderment. When the train came to my stop, I got up and said, “Have a good day.” The door took a minute to open and the guy said, “Did you forget something?” and I got nervous, and then mousely squeaked, “no that’s for you” and ran off the train. I didn’t look back. I was walking anxiously away. A half a block later I came to and thought, “What was that all about?”

It, by far, has been the funniest giving experience I’ve had. I have no idea if the guy even picked the card up. Perhaps he figured the crazy lady on the train, with the dirty jacket – mind you, was acting strange and he didn’t want to get involved.

Dear 34,

I like you already though I’m just getting to know you. I think we are going to be fast friends and have a great year together; one with many new adventures and a lot of love. I am excited about the possibilities. I am excited to be sharing this with you. Funny, I always thought 33 would be my first love... and don't get me wrong, we did have a great time, but it was a tough love of sorts. Not that it was all bad, just that I am ready to let go and move on to the next great thing.

I am looking for something new and healthy. I am ready to embrace the possibilities and respond rather than react to life. I am ready to love myself wholly, love my husband mostly, and love my dog always. I think you will fit in just nicely. I think you will like how we live and what we do with our days. The world is our oyster, 34. You and I together tracking 365 days. What will we come across? I can’t wait to find out.

grin,
a