It says it all!
Thank you for getting the word out..
PLASTIC STATE OF MIND
March 5th, 2011Recycling Cookware
November 10th, 2010
In 2009 I cooked my first turkey and hosted our family Thanksgiving. With all of my cooking magazines stacked, bookmarked, and numbered, I was ready. Unfortunately, I didn’t own the proper turkey pans and racks. Since this was a once a year meal, I went to Job Lot and bought one of those deep, aluminum pans. The little voice in my head kept saying there’s a reason this pan is seventy-seven cents, but did I listen?
On a steamy Saturday in July, I spotted my new Thanksgiving pan at a yard sale in Sandwich. It was still in the wrapping (note to self: pots are not wrapped in most high-end cooking stores) and it claimed to slide and extend from small and manageable to long and family size: perfect for cooking a turkey (and so easy to store). I asked the woman if she was familiar with this type of pan, and she assured me that not only did she own one, but she used it nearly every day with near miraculous results. Ignoring the voice in my head, I paid the woman three dollars. No more of those flimsy, Job Lot pans for me and my family.
Turkeys were on sale this week, so just to be sure last year’s deliciousness wasn’t a cooking fluke, I brought the smallest of the large on-sale birds to practice.
I rubbed and seasoned and popped her into the oven before I went to Sunday morning yoga. I returned to a husband drinking coffee, reading the Sunday paper, dog in lap. See, little voice, your don’t know what you are talking about….
The recipe said to check the turkey a 1/2 hour before the allotted cooking time. Peeking, I was pleasantly surprised. Looks good, smells good, and the juices sounded extra sizzley. I gave her a little turn to ensure all-round browning and closed the oven door.
My plan – replace the finished turkey with my stuffing muffins. Oven mitts on, I re-opened the door: wall of heat, wave of grease, traveling fire, fire alarm screaming, dog running in circles, husband reading (used to my cooking sounds and smells). Mayhem.
Dear Little Voice,
I’m so sorry I didn’t listen. I will now acknowledge that a $3.00 slit-in-the-middle pan is probably not going to hold flammable liquids and lipids well. $3.77 lesson learned.
Love, Tina
P. S. Does anyone have a sturdy, intact turkey pan and rack that I can borrow?
Recycling Your Vote
November 2nd, 2010
The looting was over and the bags emptied. Now the bargaining begins.
“I’ll give you three Baby Ruths for that Sugar Daddy.”
“I’ll give you all of my Doritos for that blow pop.” Even the little ones knew that was not going to happen.
Listening to the kids dicker and deal was sweet background noise to the adult preoccupation in the front.
The noise level moved from friendly belly to a frantic uvula, and I decided to join the kids.
“Politics?” my 11 year old nephew asked, and I really didn’t have to confirm.
I know I’m not the only one who says, “THANK GOD IT’S ELECTION DAY.”
I don’t want any more of your mailings, phone calls, or fliers. The way you twist the truth is despicable and I don’t want to start and/or end my day with your cup o’ bile.
I know what I want my world to look and feel like, and that is how I’m going to vote.
The kids have it right. You lay all your goods on the floor and you start working together to get what you want. How come they can do it and we as adults have such a hard time? I think its our addiction to being right instead of reasonable.
Hey, did I mention that it’s election day? C U @ the poles!
Recycling Halloween Costumes
October 26th, 2010
Doing the Time Warp; celebrating the season.
A few days left to get your wavyo bags. I mean, you don’t want your kids trick or treating with a crummy, old, plastic bag, do you?
Planning my costume: Siobhan Magnus, David Sedaris, Tilda Swinton, or Lyle Lovett? And you?
Recycling Stone & Glass
October 20th, 2010
Fusion 12 – Sculpture by Michael Magyar and David Campbell. Exhibit at the Cotuit Center of the Arts: you have to go.
Recycling Doggie Bags
October 6th, 2010
I was so excited about attending the Mashpee Dog Park Fundraiser that I made Bruce drop me (well, me and Bennett) off at the gate. Kids and dogs, adults and puppies, pugs and schnauzers – it was mayhem and I loved it. Everyone had an “ask me about my dog” look about them as they proudly walked, dragged, or followed their animal around.
We didn’t enter the fashion show, the agility course, or the massage tent, but we did head to the Cape Cod Beer Tent because Mama was parched. The only thing better than a fun, family, fund raising event is a fun, family, fund raising event with liquor.
It might have been the sun, the company, the sweetness, or the beer – whatever it was – I was feeling pretty bouncy. And then I spotted it. One of our wavyo bags on the ground, near a doggy swag bag and the public water bowls. Mood catapults from happy to ecstatic. We’re not (yet) Black Dog familiar, but it really is nice to see our bags in public places.
My goal? To spend a weekend in the Berkshires, and as I enter my first Kripalu yoga class, my instructor removes her yoga mat from our yoga bag. Now that would be sweet!
Recycling Bras
September 23rd, 2010
A few days ago I went to Victoria’s Secret and learned sometihing new. As my very helpful bra specialist brought me styles and sizes (expensive side effect of weight loss) she told that my nipples are supposed to be mid way between my shoulder and my elbow. Well shoot, who knew! I bought two nipple aligning bras and corresponding panties, and raced home.
The next day, with my breasts properly encased, and listening to Jim Braude on the radio, I happily drove to Worcester for a Children’s Trust Fund training. Leaving time for traffic and getting lost, I arrived for the meeting a couple of minutes early.
Enjoying the sun, I used the extra time to walk around the town green. A man lay on the sidewalk, in my path. In my head I was having the homeless man discussion: What do I do?” What do I say? Do I give him money? How much do I have with me? (We don’t have many beggars in Falmouth). I decided that addressing him, giving him change was more humane than crossing the street and ignoring him. He looked so down trodden and I was so feeling so high.
He squinted up and slurred at me. “Hello gorgeous. You’re beautiful.”
OK, so he was blind drunk and lying in a puddle of his own urine, but a compliment is a compliment, and truth be told, I loved the sound of his words.
So I gave him all my singles and bounced back to my meeting.
WAIT! do you think it was the bra? Perhaps nipple placement is more important than I thought. Or maybe, just maybe, he was way smarter than I gave him credit for.
Recycling Tomatoes
September 13th, 2010
I’m working like crazy to save – in salsas and sauces - each and every one of my juicy tomatoes.
I’d love to tell you that my basement is my pride and joy, filled with jar after jar of spaghetti sauces, juices, and relishes, but the truth is I have a musty, micey basement, and the last time I tried my hand at canning, I almost poisoned my whole family. Apparently, the subtle burping and bubbling of the opened jar was a warning and not the sound of well saved garden freshness. Thankfully, the smell was so vile that all sisters, in unpracticed synchronicity, hurled themselves backwards. No hospital trips this time.
As I try to stock my pantry, I know the tomatoes are only part of what I’m trying to save. What I really want to hold onto is the smell of an almost perfect, sandy summer, the tastes of a season well shared, and the sound of my bee sun salutes.
Recycling Vacation
August 25th, 2010
Thanks to those of you who wrote to say you missed my blogging. I’ve been negligent and I know it.
I’m having a college student summer: working, but not enough to get in the way of my real goal which has been to enjoy each and every minute and summer opportunity that comes my way.
Since my last post, I’ve I’ve seen one of my favorite singer/songwriters, Richard Shindell, in Wellfleet, watched and responded to some incredible new film talent at the Woods Hole Film Festival (A LIFE TAKEN by Josh Banville was my favorite), ridden the trolley from Falmouth to Woods Hole, listened to free, Friday night music on Peg Noonan Park, danced to the sounds of a hot, Afro-Brazillian martial arts band (and was served free beer!), heard some new-to-me (Jarita Davis) and glad-I-was wearing sunglasses (Christine Rathburn) poets at an outdoor reading, entertained out of town friends and family, participated in the best beach bonfire and bluefish cook-off, jumped till i was sore off the second tier off my sisters houseboat, hacked through my weedy gardened to get my best ever tomatoes, cucumbers, wax beans, and fresh herbs, and watched Ooch perform his magic with yoyo’s and children. (And that was just July;-)So what does one do after such an amazing and satisfying not-yet-over summer? Work with gusto, is what I’m thinking. So even before you can say September, we’re having a WAVYO end of the summer sale! With 20% off our already low prices (I’ll be sending you a coupon through this site), you’ll be able to buy bags for yourself (our yoga bag is my new favorite), your friends (the mini bag is perfect for gift stuffing), or family (grocery bags for the not yet green members).
There are a few summer weeks left, so celebrate every second, don’t hurt yourself, and order your end of the summer and back to whatever you do bags at http://www.wavyo.com/shop.
Recycling Ice
August 3rd, 2010
Yesterday, as I made my morning iced tea, the essence of the cubes tickled me : functional, unlimited, useful, cool to the touch, almost beautiful.
As I tripped over to the door to let the dog out (picture Belle in a large hoop skirt), I realized I was experiencing a moment of contentment and happiness. And it was nice.
Ten hours later on the Dr. Oz Show, there were two guests: a happiness teacher and a woman who is unhappy all the time. Tips and strategies were discussed, and a fake-it-until-you-make-it plan was agreed upon.
After much rumination and connecting of dots, I decided to be thankful that a) I don’t need a happiness teacher, b) my unhappy times are balanced by moments of bliss, c) that I can recognize and experience joy without a plan, and d) both my husband and I fill the ice trays when they are empty.
I guess it’s the simple things….