Monday, November 25, 2019

Mary Ann and Wanda were the best of friends, all through their high school days...

We were thinking about thinking about getting a dog.

And by that I mean, we'd just gotten to the point where we were like, yes, our kids desperately want a dog, and we love dogs, and perhaps a dog would lower our collective anxiety level. This could be a good idea.

Let's not rush into anything.

I told a friend about our dog idea and she said, "But not an anxious dog."

I had to laugh. No, not an anxious dog. We need a reduction, not an addition.

So I asked around about breeds, because honestly, I know next to nothing. Growing up, we had a lovely purebred Lhasa Apso, a couple sweet purebred Shih Tzus, and one very smart, perfect, amazing Peruvian mutt, after whom my blog is named, rescued from the shelter.

Nick's family had a whole lot of purebred Labradors.

We needed a dog that was small enough, sweet, not overly energetic, and smart enough to train but not so smart that it would be chewing up encyclopedias in boredom.

Also, we were pretty sure we wanted to rescue.

Rescue is a daunting task, because you don't know where a dog is coming from, and there are SO MANY rescue organizations, and so many dogs! I started following a bunch of local rescue organizations on Instagram and Facebook.

Dogs! Dogs! Dogs!

And then my friend Carter, who knows a ton about dogs, and whose husband is a vet, reached out and said that her friend Kitson had posted a plea for puppy fosters by PetConnect Rescue on her page. Maybe this would be a good option for us? (She also sent me this terrific piece on forstering that Kitson wrote for On Parenting.)

It was a Thursday night. Friday I reached out to Kitson, and she suggested I fill out a foster form. Over the weekend they replied that they don't let people without fenced yards take puppies under 6 months, because they haven't had all their shots.

But would we be interested in an older dog?

Yes, we would.

Friends suggested that fostering would be a great way to figure out what we wanted and didn't want in a dog. So I figured we'd foster a few dogs, and see how it went.

On Tuesday I got a call from a volunteer who said that Wanda, a part-Beagle mix, would be arriving Wednesday afternoon, and would we be interested in fostering? I had to ask Nick, who was out of town.

So I called him, and he said he need to think about it, and could he call me back?

The kids were dying to foster her. Nick's main hesitation was that I'm not a morning person, and he can't walk her in the morning because he rows.

I promised I could get up. He said OK.

I called them and said OK. But we couldn't meet the transport at 3:30 because of a doctor's appointment. A foster who lives near the rescue out in Virginia agreed to keep her until we could arrive around 5:00.

Kitson offered to lend me a crate. Wanda came with a collar, harness, and leash.

When Jordan and I got to the volunteer's house, three dogs answered the door, and Jordan was pretty apprehensive.

The woman ushered us past them (they're her dogs) and into the closed-off kitchen, where she was keeping six foster dogs for pickup.

There were three adorable, delicious, puppy-smelling Lab puppies yelping for attention. There was sweet nervous Wanda. And there was Buddy, who was a hairless dog with a large underbite and a fringe around his head. He was alternating between peeing on the floor and trying to hump Wanda.

Jordan took one look at Buddy and said, "What IS THAT?"

I told him it was a dog, but he didn't really believe me.

While this kind woman explained to me what to do, Jordan grew more and more anxious. The puppies kept yipping, and Wanda kept trying to get away from Buddy, who was in hot pursuit.

They bumped into Jordan's legs repeatedly. Occasionally Wanda would have enough, and snarl at Buddy, who would only momentarily be deterred.

Ultimately, Jordan climbed up on the kitchen counter in distress.

I thought perhaps we'd made a mistake. This was too much for my son, who I believed badly needed a dog.

And then we took Wanda outside, and she happily jumped in our car. I handed Jordan the leash, and he sat down and buckled in.

It took us more than an hour to get into DC in rush hour. And Wanda spent that hour snuggled up against Jordan. Occasionally he would giggle and say, "She licked my glasses!" Or, "She's squishing my leg with her foot!"

I kept telling him that she must feel good with him to snuggle up against him like that.

He was overjoyed.

The first couple days I took her on walks, so many walks, and she didn't go to the bathroom outside. And then we came in and she squatted.

She spent those days with her tail tucked so far between her legs that it was curled flat against her stomach.

During our entire walks she just looked around all, "Whoa! What's that? And that? And that?"

And I was like, why doesn't she just pee? All our dogs couldn't wait to pee when they got outside.

Now we have one spot in the park where she will reliably relieve herself. We are now people with dog poop bags in all pockets.

She is a sweetheart, she is a leaner. She is smart and curious. She wants affection more than she wants food.

She doesn't know her name. She does not come when you call her. She doesn't know any commands.

But she is gentle and quiet and her eyes are so very kind.

Initially, she was terrified of Nick. This hurt his feelings. He didn't say so, but I could tell.

The advice we got was for Nick to be the holder of high quality treats. From him she could get a bit of meat or cheese--something coveted.

I tell you, it was magical advice.

Wanda has her challenges and frustrations, but at heart, she is a love.

She arrived in our lives on November 13, the anniversary of the day Nick and I met in 2007. This year, we had considered resuming our tradition of going to the Tabard to celebrate, which we haven't done in several years.

Instead, I drove with Jordan out to Fairfax Station, where we picked up a scared but sweet pup.

As of this writing, 12 days later, I've sent the paperwork and a check, and she's going to be ours.

That was fast? That was fast.

Monday, November 18, 2019

Practical gifts for a better world

Yes, OK, yes, I am a sucker for all things orange, any and every platform boot, and most things sparkly, and while I am the only human in the world who thinks I qualify as crunchy, it's also true that I am practical.

And I love useful gifts. Love.

We have lots and lots of house guest, and people always want to bring something, although nobody needs to. When a friend brings a gift we can use, like coffee beans, nice olive oil, snacks, a book...I am more than delighted.

Our last house guest, our friend Susan, brought coffee and seasoned cashews she'd roasted, and each child got a book. Amazing.

We do not need anything decorative or really, anything we have to put anywhere. And I've become more and more concerned about landfill.

The plastic bits and bobs in birthday gift bags leave me gnashing my teeth.

So, some of these might seem weird, but I'd be happy to get any or all of them. I have a number of these items and love them, which is why I've got them on here.

Some of them are quiet small, and may be more stocking stuffer-y. Surprise! Santa likes sustainability this year!

And I've linked mostly to places where I got them, and much of the time it's Amazon, but I don't get any kickback and would always encourage you to google, and to use Bed, Bath and Beyond coupons and such. And thrift store and garage sale finds bring me great joy.

Now I'm in danger of being one of those annoying people who are like, here's my soup recipe but before that I'm going to tell you all about my holiday in Venice and how my husband enjoys sleeping with his socks on.

So here you go, in no particular order.
1. Calamityware Things Could Be Worse mugs

These mugs are an utter delight. I had a set of four, which is how they sell them. And to my chagrin I dropped one. Now I have three.

But you know how sometimes you get yourself something you really want but feel a bit frivolous about, because maybe you have a cupboard crammed with mugs already? And then this particular item makes you so happy every day? That's how these mugs are for me.

They're a lovely size and shape, and they're made of porcelain in Poland. What I like best is that at a glance, it could be a traditional china pattern, and then you look closely to realize there's all kinds of bizarre, whimsical stuff going on.

They also have plates and bowls and if I didn't already have a full set of my grandma's dishes, I'd be asking for them.
2. Silicone cupcake liners

I'd just made muffins the last time my friend Alexa was visiting. The following week, she sent me a set of these, and they've improved my life.

I like to make Superhero muffins, which are pretty wet because they have grated carrot and zucchini. They seem to turn out better in silicone than in paper.

I just ordered more from Amazon, and a set of 24 is, inexplicably, cheaper than a set of 12. Apparently you can also use these as storage in lunchboxes. I'm going to try.

The reusability and rainbowness of them just make me happy. I don't care if neither of those are words.

3. Composting Service such as Veterans Compost in the DC area

I realize this may sound kind of like when Joey suggested to Chanler that he give his cheating girlfriend a barium enema as a gift, but honestly, our service is $29/month, and I would be super excited if someone gifted this to me.

I know services vary, and my friend Kathy has an amazing one in Boston that takes everything and only costs $99/year. I could not find something comparable in DC, and it was important to me that they take meat.

With Veterans Compost you can compost meat, fats, dairy, paper towels and napkins...It's great. They pick up and deliver a new bin weekly. And they make it a priority to hire veterans.
4. S'well wide mouth bottle

S'well bottles are kind of spendy, and for me it's nice to get a gift of something you'd use every day but that costs more than you might spend for yourself.

I use the 12" for coffee, which it keeps piping hot without ever spilling in my bag. We have a 16" one for water. The thing I like about the bottles with this kind of lid is that you can chuck them in your bag and never worry about spilling or condensation.

I love the wide mouth, which I find easier to fill and to drink from, and S'well keeps cold cold and hot hot.
 5. Silicone Stasher bags

I was feeling like such a jerk with the single-use plastic sandwich bags, and then a friend turned me on to Stasher bags.

These are sturdy and stay sealed and even protect sandwiches from the insane jostling they seem to get in my son's backpack.

The sandwich size, which is the only one I've tried so far, is great for one sandwich, or a cut up apple (with lemon squeezed on it because otherwise it gets brown and weird and how could I even expect anyone to eat it?!). They are also thick  enough that you can put foods like grapes in and they don't get smooshed.

They have a starter kit, which is what I've linked to above, which gives you a lot of different sizes, including two sandwich bags. But there are lots of options for different price ranges.

I must admit that my kitchen never looks like the photo, and neither do my lunches.
6. Niedegger marzipan

If you know anyone who likes marzipan, Niederegger makes the best.

It's expensive, because it's made of really high quality almonds and chocolate. But oh my gosh, it's like magic.

There are a lot of ways to buy it--above I linked to a four-loaf version. I like the large loaf kind better than the small ones, because it's just so satisfying to slice it and I feel like it's moister and more delicious than the small wrapped candies. Plus there is just...more.

But whatever you choose, I don't think you can go wrong with this brand.
 7. Dory Fantasmagory books

If you need books for a young reader, like a reader who is starting out with chapter books, these are both utterly delightful and easy books. India started reading them on her own in first grade, but initially we were reading them together.

Dory is hilarious, and imaginative and ridiculous. Honestly, I enjoy these books as much as India does. We have read them multiple times and both laugh out loud.
8. Cast iron skillet + silicone handle holder

I was new to cast iron a couple years ago, and Nick's frying pan is huge and so heavy, and also, he is very particular about it. I was always afraid I'd do something wrong. So I never used it. 

And then his sister sent me a small cast iron pan like the one above. I use it all the time for omelettes, frying eggs, or making grilled cheese.

Cast iron heats and cooks so nicely and evenly, and you can stick it in a shockingly hot oven. It has no chemicals like Teflon pans. And it puts a little iron into your food! You have to use a lot of fat, which in my 20s would've been unthinkable, but now is a delicious joy.

My understanding is that if you come across an old one, like at a garage sale, they're ideal because they've been smoothed with years of use. I am keeping my eyes open.

Now I have the confidence to use Nick's huge pan for pan-roasting a chicken or for making Dutch baby in the oven. I have not as yet managed to make scrambled eggs without them sticking, however.

In any case, I love my little pan. And if you get one, wherever you get it from, make sure to get a silicone handle for protection, because those handles get HOT!
9. Silicone straws

I'll be honest: I'm not actually a straw person.

I mean, when I was a kid, I loved bendy straws. I would bend them back and forth and back and forth. But for a while it seemed like you couldn't get a drink without a straw. (And so much ice! What's with all the ice everywhere?)

But you may need a straw, and I personally dislike the metal ones.

Anyway, what it comes down to is we have some straw enthusiasts in our house, and I thought these would make a good gift.
Photo: PamChamJewelry
10. Unique handmade jewelry such as this bubble necklace

OK, this is sort of not exactly practical, unless you think of joy as practical, which I do.

My friend Pam makes charming jewelry with humor and whimsy. She lives in Maine, but I know her because she used to be Maude's housemate when we all lived in Friendship Heights. I spent a great deal of time at their house. Pam was always soldering something cool.

I have a number of pieces of bespoke Pam jewelry, and I've given items as gifts. As a person, she is really cool and funny and kind, and she takes custom orders as well.

(Pam doesn't know I'm writing about her, but I'm so happy to, and you are welcome to mention me if you get in touch.)

11. Technivorm Moccamaster coffee maker

This is far and away the most expensive item on here. It never occurred to me to spend so much on a coffee maker.

We had this really terrible little coffee maker that made weak, tepid coffee. It was so bad it was insulting. So I asked for suggestions on Facebook, which is my favorite place to ask, because I always get the best answers.

As a result, we got a coffee maker worth more than my car.  (True fact: we looked in the Blue Book.)

This one goes to 11.

Here is why I include it on my practical list: the coffee is amazing. If you get this machine, I predict you will only want to have coffee from home from that point on. You will invite friends over for coffee rather than meeting at Starbucks.

The machine is really fast and the coffee is perfectly hot and delicious.

The one I linked to has auto-shut-off if you take the pot away. There's a slightly cheaper model that doesn't have the auto feature, but I felt like it was worth it to avert coffee disasters.

Another reason I include it here is because making great coffee at home has meant way fewer stops in coffee shops. I make coffee, pour it into my S'well coffee bottle, throw it in a bag, and go.

I really wanted a red, purple, or orange one, but we got the sedate silver one pictured because marital compromise.
12. Burr coffee grinder

OK, so we got recommendations for the above amazing coffee maker. And then our friends said, if you are going to get a great coffee maker, you need to get a burr grinder, because they grind evenly and don't heat up the beans.

And then they said, if you're going to get a burr grinder, you really should get a scale to weigh your coffee.

Yes, it was very much like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie.

So we did all those things, and the fact is that we use less coffee now because we are precise about it. You know that I am a more is better kind of person, and weak coffee makes me mad. But good quality coffee is expensive, and for me it's nice (and delicious) to use the exact amount.

I was at first resistant because who needs more gadgets AND more tasks? But now I like it. It's part of the ritual, and as it turns out, I like rituals.

And  along the same lines...

12. Kitchen scale

As I am not a person who researches gadgets thoroughly, I bought both the grinder and the scale that were recommended to me, and I am very happy with both.

As it turns out, kitchen scales are very useful.

Apparently it's also easy to use too much flour if you are scooping by the cup rather than weighing it. And then you can end up with flabby baked goods or something.

I have to admit that laziness has kept me from weighing my baking ingredients. But I do wind up weighing random pieces of food like chicken breast and such.
13. Wool felt dryer balls

I just have plain white ones, sadly. I mean, they do a great job. But. These penguins are so cute and I feel like they'd make an adorable, practical gift.

I love wool dryer balls. Dryer balls cut your drying time, ostensibly by 20-40%, and I think this is accurate. They keep clothes separated. Clothes are still static-y in the winter, but I do think they reduce static.

Some years ago I learned that dyer sheets coat your clothing, which is how they get rid of static. But have you ever used a towel and it feels kind of slippery and doesn't dry you? That's the dryer sheet coating.

So I ditched dryer sheets and got plastic dryer balls, which are loud. They CLUNK around your dryer. The wool ones make no noise.

These particular ones are soft, organic wool, but there are lots of kinds. You can even make your own if you have wool roving and like to felt balls. (Heh.)
14. Peanuts flannel blanket

My mom got each of my kids one of these blankets last year. They love them. They're a good, heavy weight, very warm and cozy, and they wash nicely.

Sometimes my kids drag them around the house and cuddle under them when they're watching TV. These are a totally practical present that my children appreciate on a regular basis. I know their blankets just make them happy.
15. Peanuts towels

My mom also got each kid a bath towel. My kids were tremendously excited about both gifts.

We got the dancing Snoopy and Woodstock design (same for both, so no fights), but there are other cute designs too. The towels are thick cotton, soft, and a nice, big size.

It is true that we now have a lot of Peanuts going on here. When I was a kid, I had these blue Snoopy and Woodstock sheets that I just loved.

I don't know what happened to them after we left Bangladesh. But I do have vivid memories of them.

(Incidentally, I link to the Vermont Country Store for these items, and they have a lot of Peanuts items. There are great PJs for kids and adults. We haven't yet tried the adult ones, although I do knod of want some. The kid ones are really warm.)
 16. Cloth napkins

A house guest sent these to us earlier this year, and we use them every day.

These particular napkins don't wrinkle, and my kids each have a preferred design.

I don't know why it didn't occur to me years ago to start using cloth napkins. We do laundry with alarming frequency, and so it's not like we're using more water on napkins. And it feels good that we're not discarding paper napkins after one ues.

17. Reusable mesh produce bags

I try to leave my produce loose, but it's not always possible. And then I feel guilty about the plastic bag.

A friend just suggested these, and they sound like a great idea. I myself have not tried them, but it  seems like it'd be so easy to keep a few of in your shopping bag.

This particular set has nine reusable mesh bags that way less than 1/3 of an ounce.
18. Symbolic animal adoption

The World Wildlife Fund has a wide array of adorable plush stuffed animals, and for $55 you can symbolically adopt one of them, and get the stuffed animal version.

I chose the bison because of my Midwestern roots, but there are so many cute ones. So it's a low-guilt way to add to someone's stuffy collection. (Or is it spelled stuffie? We didn't call them this when I was growing up.)
Photo: SmithjackJapan on etsy
19. Furoshiki wrapping cloth

One of the things about me that has annoyed numerous people over the years is how slowly and deliberately I unwrap gifts. I carefully open the tape and try to avoid damaging the paper at all.

I think it comes from growing up in countries where wrapping paper was not readily available, and we reused it. It's such an old, ingrained habit that I still do it, and I do reuse paper when possible.

But every Christmas we put a tremendous amount of glossy paper into landfill. No longer.

My friend Eileen just told me that she's using Furoshiki for wrapping gifts now, and they look beautiful. It's a lovely idea, because it's a gift and then also wrapped in a reusable gift of beautiful cloth.

So this is a suggestion for wrapping rather than a gift to give, although I suppose you could do both.

We decided last Christmas that we're going to potato print newspaper this year. We are absolutely not buying any gift paper.

We have not yet gotten to the printing, but my mom has already wrapped a few books in newsprint, and they look really cool. I think with red or green ribbon, they'll look festive. And newsprint is easy to fold.
20. Set of Injinji toe socks

OK, these are not going to be everybody's cup of tea, but I love getting socks for Christmas. And I almost exclusively wear Injinji toe socks now, and I personally would like this set of four.

Earlier this year I was diagnosed with neuromas in my feet. So the nerve leading to my second to last toe on each foot gets squozen and it bugs and now I have these princess and the pea feet and it's really annoying.

However. These socks help immensely. I loved them before I had these foot problems and I love them even more now.

Injinji makes lots of sock weights and lengths. I've come to understand that lighter is better for me. You have to account for the amount of room they take up in shoes.

They have a lot of fun designs, but seemingly only one boxed set.

They also have an upcycled cotton product line.

So that's the story on the socks.
21. Heirloom beans

I've started cooking beans quite often lately, and I have learned that if you buy really good beans, they're lovely on their own with just olive oil and salt. But if you had a great recipe for a dish, I think it would be delightful to give a bag or two of beans along with the recipe.

Rancho Gordo has a terrific selection of beans, and I have ordered (and eaten) the sampler I linked to above. You can order pounds of beans individually, but it seemed to me a better deal to order a sampler, plus I wanted to try a variety.

The Rancho Gordo Xoxoc Project sampler intrigues me, because the goal of this project is to help small farmers continue to grow rare indigenous beans in Mexico. There are beans I've never heard of, and I like the project goal, and 5% of the cost gets donated to No More Deaths, a humanitarian aid group that provides water and other assistance to migrants and refugees along the US border.

22. Silk dental floss in a refillable glass container

I love to floss. Sadly, I didn't as a child, and have paid the price. But for years I have been a  completely anal flosser. I do know how that sounds.

With my general enthusiasm for flossing, I kept thinking about these nylon strings I was throwing away daily, and then the plastic box that I'd eventually discard and replace.

So I bought this silk floss, which they call dental lace, and it's great. I mean, I don't know that as floss it's that different in feel and performance from another floss, but the fact that it will biodegrade and that I can refill the container forever is a win for me.

As dental floss goes, it's kind of expensive, which for me puts it in the nice little sustainably-minded  gift category.
23. Save the Children gifts

I particularly like this option, because one, you're not giving a physical that someone has to put somewhere, and instead you can be like, "I bought two goats in your name." You're giving a gift that helps humans in the world, and you're doing so in the name of a loved one.

There's a huge range of options in terms of price and items--animals, medical care, clean water, refugee services...
24. Bamboo toilet paper

So, when I mentinoed this post, my friend Lauri was all, wait, you going to suggest things like bulk packages of toilet paper? Or REALLY GIANT rolls?

And I was like, no, I was thiking more like dryer balls and silicone bags.

But then it turned into a toilet paper conversation, because that just seems to be the way of the world. Which was a good thing, because my friend Karen gave me this link to Who Gives a Crap toilet paper.

No trees, profits help build toilets, supposed to be soft on your butt! How could I resist?

It is toilet paper made of bamboo. They donate 50% of profits to build toilets for people who need them.

And you can order the holiday version! So maybe you know someone who would like a festive box of 48 rolls of toilet paper?

I'd be delighted. I'm not kidding.

25. Homemade jams, pickles baked goods...

Do you make jam? Pickles? Other preserved foods? Do you bake?

When I was a kid, I always felt like my homemade gifts were inferior to store bought ones. (And you know, my dad always said "store-boughten" and I don't know if that was a Minnesota thing or particular to Duluth or just him. Hydrox cookies were his favorite store-boughten cookies. I don't think they make them anymore.)

But now that I have kids and realize what precious commodities time and effort are, I am overjoyed when I recieve something made by a friend.

My mom came home from visiting Maude in Denver with several jars of Maude's homemade jam. It was such a treasure and a delight. Every morning we talked about the fact that we were putting Maude's jam on our bread.

My friend Jess is this extraordinary baker, and we have been recipients of an extravagance of holiday delights. It's not only a delicious gift, but loving and thoughtful. We are loved and lucky.

(Incidentally, she brought these phenomanal marzipan bars to my dad's memorial service, and I basically appropriated one whole tray. I was six months pregnant and had just lost my dad, and felt entirely justified.)

26. Membership to a museum or zoo

DC has a lot of terrific, free museums, and the zoo is also free; we are spoiled in this way. But this is not the norm in most places. And here, a Smithsonian membership (linked above) gets you a magazine and discounts. Becoming a Friend of the National Zoo (linked above) gives you benefits like free parking, discounts at restaurants and stores, and free carousel and seasonal rides.

If you have young kids, it's great to have a membership to the Building Museum (although it looks like they'll be closed December-March 2020, which is a bummer, because it's such a helpful place to go with kids in the winter.

The National Geographic Museum is not free, and has terrific exhibits. Jordan receives the kid's magazine--he got a subscription as a birthday gift--and loves it. 

As for me, I'd personally love to have a membership to the Phillips Collection.

27. The gift of an outing

You can write or print out a piece of paper that offers any kind of outing you and your child (or parent, friend, or significant other) would like. An offering of time, just the two of you, doing something that brings you both joy.

An afternoon at the movies. Ice cream. A trip to an aquarium. Dinner anywhere, just the two of you.

I love this gift, becaue it's so personal, and really the message is: I love you, I want to spend time with you doing something that makes you happy, so we can enjoy it together.
 28. Grooming products with no plastic containers

A few years ago I ditched antipersperant and switched to just deoderant. In fact, I did this for Nick and me at the same time.

I discovered two things: 1. that gross underarm buildup you see on tee shirts in the wash immediately stopped happening. And 2. it's hard to find deoderant for woman at CVS that doesn't also have anti-perspirant. First I bought men's. I found a better selection at Whole Foods.

Recently a friend started talking about using shampoo bars to get rid of plastic bottles, so I began looking for sustainable bath and body products.

I came across Silver Falls Sustainability Co., a two-person (plus one baby) company in Oregon. Packaging and shipping materials are plant based and compostable. They do no animal testing.

I ordered the kit above to split with my mom. So far I've used the deodorant, which is very effective and leaves my armpits smelling like coconut macaroons. (For me this is a bonus.) I've also been using the lip balm, which I like, and I'm picky about lip balm.

It is a little strange to use cardboard containers rather than plastic, and they only swivel up, so you can't retract them. But these seem like minor inconveniences.

29. Secura electric kettle

We have a black plastic exterior version of this kettle, and looks-wise I like this one better. But here's why I am recommending this particular brand, which took us some hunting to find.

I got all hell-bent on a kettle where the water was not boiling in plastic. The idea just freaks me out. There are lots and lots of cute plastic kettles. Or kettles that are metal, but then the water gauge up the side is make of plastic.

I use an electric kettle so many times a day. For tea in the morning, for heating water for pasta or to boil beans, or steam broccoli. It's so much faster and more efficient to do it in the kettle.

Plus I love that you can walk away and know that it will turn itself off if you see a squirrel that immedately distracts you and reminds you that you need to clean out your closet...until you come across your winter boots, which reminds you that you'd better see if your kids boots still fit...and maybe you should look at Lands End while you're...wait, what was I doing?

Electric kettle. Biols fast. No plastic. Auto shutoff.
30. Golden Moon Tea assortment

And if you're going to treat someone to a new kettle, why not indulge in some lovely tea as well?

Golden Moon has delightful loose teas, and I linked to a gift sampler above. But if you know the kind of tea you like, buy it in bulk. Nick orders from Golden Moon regularly. They send 20% discount codes.

If loose tea is not your bag (ha!), you can never go wrong with a lovely tin of Harney and Sons. Me, being a bit more pedestrian in my taste, I do love PG Tips, but this summer a British friend told me that Yorkshire Gold is really the way to go.

Honestly, though, I've never had better tea than in India, and I mean in the cheap tea stalls or at the train station. Not at the fancy hotels. Maybe I need to start boiling my tea with powdered milk and sugar...

31, An energy balancing session

I've written before about my friend Alexa, and how she has helped me with her energy healing.

Alternative treatments such as these aren't covered by insurance, and as such, what a lovely, healing, calming gift for someone, particularly during the stressful holiday period.

I know this might be reminiscent of Fleabag getting the counseling voucher from her dad for her birthday...But it helped!
 32. Candy ribbons

And finally...I felt like I had to end on a sweet note. I couldn't resist putting in old-time candy ribbons.

These are candies of my childhood. They never made it through the international pouch to Bangladesh unscathed, and my brother and I would search excitedly to find the most complete ribbon possible.

I guess they're only practical in that they're comestible, and may trigger happy memories of holidays past. 

But they're beautiful and such a dollop of nostalgia.


Thanks for reading!

If you have suggestions, I'd love to hear them.

Big hugs and much love!


Monday, September 30, 2019

For once not 3:00 am anxiety, coffee, and workouts

This morning I awoke with a start from a bad dream. A trauma dream.

Usually if I'm going to wake up and fret, it's 3:00 am. This is a *thing* and I'm not the only one. There's something evil about the 3:00 in the morning hour.

But lo, it was 5:00 am, and Nick was already gone. I stretched and considered going back to sleep.

And then my brain started to whirl. It pulled up a decades old memory and immediately launched me into anxiety.

I don't know about your snuggled in bed anxiety, but one of my favorites is to review things I said wrong, choices I should've made differently, and really any and all minor and major missteps and faux pas I've committed.

So this morning, being that it was the fine hour of FIVE and not three, I said fuck it and got up.

I did.

I put on my workout clothes, although it is true that I am not a morning person and as such, I am less coordinated first thing in the antemeridian time frame.

This has been true forever. Back when I had a fabulous yellow Sport Walkman, when I ran in the morning I used to regularly trip and my tape and batteries would go flying in all directions. I still have scars.

In any case, I put on my workout clothes, and by 7:00 am I'd worked out, gotten dressed, and made coffee.

My coffee now is almost entirely decaf, and I think I'm better for it. I got a fancy coffee maker, and then it was like If You Give a Mouse a Cookie kind of thing. I got the coffee maker, and then I had to get a grinder. And then if I was going to get a grinder I should get a weigher. Which I guess is also called a scale.

So now we weigh our beans and grind then and then brew them.

When I first got this fancy setup I drank so much delicious coffee that I think I was kind of insane for months.

Now, because I carefully pour the beans into a glass every morning, I do mostly decaf and a little regular and so I don't even know what percentages but I'm mostly decaf and that is good.

The workout quashed my anxiety for the day and also, uh, I worked out.


What do you do when you have anxiety?

Friday, September 27, 2019

This one goes to 11

Dear Nick,

Today is our eleventh wedding anniversary. We remembered on Monday that the 25th, which fell on a Wednesday this year, was the day we legally married, and that Friday would be our wedding anniversary.

And then on Wednesday we both forgot, and yesterday we exchanged happy anniversaries. And this morning we almost forgot, except that you'd put it into Outlook.

Which is not to say it's not a milestone or unimportant.

Tonight we're celebrating with me going to a 5th grade parent social and you feeding the kids dinner and putting them to bed.

I can't believe we have a kid in 5th grade. It's the age I was when we moved to the States. It's simultaneously so old and so young.


I can't imagine why I ever objected to your gold jacket. I love that jacket.

Why was I so uptight?


When I stopped to think about which year it was, I was going to say 10, but then I remembered that in fact we got married in 2008 and so this would be 11.

We talked about this last night and I said that we just need to add a year to whatever age Jordan is and that's how many years we've been married.

This year marked 10 years since, in chronological order: my dad died; we bought our house; and our son was born.

2009 is the year that stands out in my mind.


You started rowing a year and a half ago. Now you get up at 4:30 every morning and head off to practice.

I knew you were an athlete growing up, and I knew, as a team sport person and an extrovert, that you needed a team.

You and I are so different in this way. I want to exercise alone, in my own head. 

But team sports are fairly hard to find as an adult, particularly as one who has no time. It turns out 5:00 am is a perfect time for you, and for you, rowing is a perfect sport.

You're so much happier, fitter, and kinder now that you exercise every day.

And you'll be rowing in the Head of the Charles in October. I wish we could be there to see. I'm so proud of you and all the work you've put in to improve to this point.


When I was thinking about this past year, one of the things that struck me was that we're arguing less, and talking more.

We've gotten better at voicing what we hear, and listening to each other without telling the other person they're wrong.

Because you're never wrong about how you feel, or what you think you heard, even if what you heard wasn't what the other person intended.

I also think we're both less emotionally burdened by traumas in our respective childhoods. 

Also, you've stopped using "Lisa's anxiety" as a way to explain or dismiss things. I appreciate this, because it always made my head melt and then nothing went well after that.

I feel like this is immense progress.


At this point, I can't even remember whose indictment you asked me to Google. But I spelled it "endeightment" and came up with nothing.

And then you asked me how I'd spelled indictment. And then you laughed, but not unkindly. And I had to laugh too.

But at the time I was also kind of like, look, I'm not a lawyer and it's not like I read or spell indictment every day. (I mean, OK, maybe now I do. But at that point I'd never spelled it in my life.)

And do you know that I always thought albeit was pronounced Al-bait?

Now you do.


While it's true that I don't trust women who never admit to wanting to stab their husbands, I also see it's true that it hurts your feelings when I joke about it.

So I've pretty much stopped doing so publicly.
I guess what I'm saying is, I feel like you grew a lot in the past year. Maybe I did, too.

I'd marry you tomorrow all over again.

I love you love you love you,


Thursday, September 19, 2019

I only wanted to see you laughing in the purple rain

The thing about fall is that it can really sneak up on a person.

I imagine this does not happen further north, where the leaves turn beautiful colors and suddenly  there's a nip in the air and it's all just rather obvious.

We were in Maine in late August and one morning it was very fresh and our last two nights were actually really cold. I mean, we were colder than we might otherwise have been, because we were sleeping in a TENT and I have more to say about this.

When you don't write for weeks and weeks on end but keep living your life forward you wind up with a lot of things undescribed and unexamined. So I have lots to say about a ton of things but then where to you even begin?

And what I think I'm best at his here and now.

So here and now, today has a slight chill but it's the first day. Normal people are probably not wearing fleece yet.

We went swimming on Monday because it was so hot and humid. It's supposed to be 90 on Sunday.

This is not the heat of fall. 

Which, I guess it's technically still summer, up to the equinox, right? But in terms of light, it's fall. It's darker earlier and earlier. And the light is not winter thin, but the quality has shifted.

I know to be vigilant in winter, because winter is not my friend. And fall makes me nervous, because it's the gateway to winter.

But it's been so hot and we've been doing summer-ish things after school, that I hadn't yet gotten in an Aikido frame of mind for fall.

And then all of a sudden I realized that everything was hard and I basically hated everyone. Not you, of course. Everyone else.

Because people are really annoying.

We had back to school night and they were asking for room parents. Our class had one room parent--a truly lovely woman--and they needed another one. I didn't raise my hand but I did feel like I ought to.

So afterward I asked Nick if he thought I should volunteer and he said, "I don't mean this unkindly, but do you think you have the temperament for it?"

And I was like, "You mean because I'm ill tempered and hate people?"

Which was, in fact, precisely what he meant.

Then a friend who has been a room parent multiple years was like, "Just do it. You don't have to be nice."

So now I'm a room parent.

But back to the issue at hand, which is, basically, how to not careen headlong into a dysfunctional pit of despair.

I don't even look depressed, do I? That photo is from Monday. Whee!

Once it struck me that: 1. it was essentially fall; and 2. I was not dealing well with life; and 3. my sugar and carb consumption had skyrocketed, I called my psychiatrist's office. I have an appointment for next week.

Frankly, I kind of hate taking an antidepressant. And at this point, it's not about the stigma. It's that they all have side effects. I could list the ones I've tried and what they did. One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small. (And the ones that mother gives you don't do anything at all.)

There is something that sucks, largely or minorly, about each and every one I've tried.

But let's also be candid about this: my genes are not so great in this area. And maybe I'm just a person who needs some help with the selective inhibition of serotonin reuptake.

I work out practically every day. I get myself out in the sunshine. I take a probiotic, and eat fiber, which is supposedly what our guts need. I barely ever drink anymore. My sleep isn't great, and I do feel like that would help.

But honestly. So much honestly.

And what I've begun wondering is, what if my problem is anxiety more than depression? I had a panic attack this summer. I was crying. And hyperventilating. I couldn't calm down and I couldn't breathe.

This had never happened before, not like that. Not even when I was dealing with my dad disappearing, or when he died.

I know I'm an anxious person. God knows I FRET. I believe there's a 50% chance of dying with every flight. I save voice mails in case loved ones die on a plane or get hit by a bus. I have to make things right before we say goodbye or good night in case it's the last time. Even if it's for, like, 8 hours.

But I'd never had anxiety symptoms, like heart racing or sweaty palms or the other physical symptoms they list, and because no professional had ever suggested it, I hadn't considered it.

And then my friend Jo posted a list of anxiety symptoms that resonated, and are not all the physical symptoms. Like irritation, lack of concentration, avoidance.

So I said to Nick, "Hey, maybe anxiety is my problem. What if it's been anxiety all along, and not depression?"

He said, "What if it's not one or the other? What if it's not red or blue, but rather purple?"


So this is what I'm going to say next week. This is where I am and it's not all that great, and I don't  know what it is or isn't, but what if it's purple?

Tuesday, August 13, 2019

50: What a long strange trip it's been

Our friend Pat used to say that the day of your birthday has magic in it, and I love this idea.

Today is my magical day, the start of my 50th year on this planet.

To start as you mean to go on, I'm wearing Lord Ganesha, patron of the arts. I feel hopeful and purposeful for my upcoming year.

It's taken me a long time to get here, and here I am.

Two years ago, when I turned 48, I was, quite honestly, in crisis. That year, we lost three people I loved, including Pat, who I viewed as my second mother. I ate all my feelings. I gained 20 pounds.

When my birthday rolled around that year, all I could think was, "Oh, god. This means I'm going to be 50 in two years."

I couldn't tell you what 50 meant. But it wasn't good. It was scary.

I was in a panic. And in this panic, I cooked up a plan. I wanted to do something big. I'd go to India, my birthplace.

And you know what? I did.

My friends Leigh and Wendy met me there. We traveled for over two weeks. I got back last week.

I saw friends I hadn't seen since 1987. I met spouses. We spent a weekend with friends in Kathmandu, and my friend Rajeev's lovely wife shared her birthday celebration with me. She even got me a cake.

In Delhi we stayed at the Claridges Hotel, where we used to go to the piano bar. We couldn't figure out where the piano bar used to be, but the hotel is still lovely and hospitable. Wendy and I visited our school. We went to some of the markets we used to go to.

It was an extraordinary trip. I have so many things to say about it, more than will fit here.

But it was a sort of homegoing, since Delhi is not just my birthplace but also where I spent my most important teenage years.

And over the years, the decades, I spent a great deal of time intermittently longing for Delhi, but from this vantage point I know that what I yearned for was not the city but the security of being who I was, in a childhood home in a tight, supportive community.

The worse I felt about myself in any given point in life, the more I romanticized my high school years.

When I was flying home, I wound up in conversation with a few fellow travelers. All younger than me, and all of whom called me ma'am.

I sat next to a young Sikh musician on my flight from Delhi to Dubai. I told him about my 50th birthday trip. I mentioned my daughter, who is 7. He told me that he was 25, and that his parents were 48. And that he hopes to get married next year and start a family.

He said people have kids younger in India. I told him I was at the old end of the spectrum in the United States.

I could be his parent, and with what he was saying, I could've felt old. But I mostly just felt glad to be where I am, and to have the kids I do.

And going back, and visiting old haunts, and seeing our school, and letting memories wash over me, I realized that I can love Delhi for the part it played in my life. I can be frustrated with Delhi for the pollution, which is truly brutal, and the relentlessness of tuk tuk drivers and hawkers and people who just want to chat because you're some random Western woman walking alone down the street.

India is the most charming and the most difficult of everything, all rolled together.

I can love it as my birthplace, and appreciate it as my home during some of my most important years. But the longing, the ache? When I look for it, I realize it's gone.

Because finally, I realize I'm good with who I am and where I am.

Maude told me that the lead-up to 50 was hard. And then she was there, and it was great. And that's how I feel. It's here and it's great.

Here's to my half century on the planet. I'm delighted to be here, and I feel lucky lucky we're here together.

And I'm looking forward to the next half.

Tuesday, June 18, 2019

I mean, it's only hair but each follicle represents some large percentage of my self esteem

I think I'm going to cut all my hair off today. But I'm a littel terrified.

Today is a better hair day than many. It looks shiny and is staying flat. I've had a lot of weird poof curl hair days with this cut and the humidity.

So now that it's a good day I'm having second thoughts. But then tomorrow I could hate it all over again.

I used to chop my hair relentlessly when I was in a bad place. It got shorter and shorter as my mental state deteriorated.

I don't think this is what's happening.

Although I did mention the hair cutting to my friend Tosha last week, and how I feel like it might just feel so good to get rid of all of it, and she said, "Do it!" And then she leaned close and said, "You're going through something, huh?"

I guess? Maybe? I didn't think so?

Because I have to talk about all of these things endlessly with everyone, I mentioned it to Kris and Wendy. I also mentioned how my self-esteem is so wrapped up in my hair, and it's easier to have more hair than less.

Kris totally sympathized. Oh my god yes with the self-esteem. For Wendy, her hair is just her hair.

I should point out that she is always willing to listen endlessly about hair trials and tribulations. Hair just isn't one of her triggers.

So I got this asymmetrical haircut a couple months ago, but it's not doing the trick. I thought I could maybe have half short but still have the long side to tuck behind my ear.

I could have my cake and eat it too.

No. And as I said, the weird and random poofs that I can't seem to manage really get my goat.

But also, apparently, I might be going through something.

Plus, it could be super easy to travel with shortyshort hair. In fact, I'm considering using shampoo bars like Dr. Bronners, in my small attempt to reduce plastic.

How easy would it be to just travel with a bar? And not have to hair dryer dry your hair?

Or I might hate how I look and be very self conscious in a whole lot of unfamiliar situations.

I think I'm going through something.

I'll let you know.

Sunday, June 16, 2019

Father’s Day 2019

Today is Father’s Day.

Which is fraught for some of us.

And at this point in my life, I have a lot of friends who are dads—incredible fathers—who are simultaneously being feted and missing their dads today. I want to hug all of them. I’m thinking of Matt, of Chris (and Laura—not a dad, but missing one nonetheless), with new loss.

Fresh loss hurts the most.

Older loss still hurts, and sometimes just as much in random moments, but for me it’s more like a scratchy sweater that a loved one knitted. It’s maybe never been soft and cozy but you loved the giver and at some point you’re used to and even sometimes comfortable wearing it, even though that sounds unlikely. It’s familiar, and you know a lot about it, and you’re almost even old friends. Sometimes. I can’t lie: I miss my dad extra today.

Holidays like this, where the focus of your loss is mentioned everywhere, are extra hard.

So to this I say, I want to celebrate Nick for being the great dad that he is.

He’s loving and kind and demonstrative. He tells our kids he loves them and hugs them a lot, which is not his family’s culture. He revels in their triumphs. He tells them he’s proud of them. He works to be a partner to me in parenting. It’s not equal, but it’s closer to equal than what either of us grew up with.

And on the same day, I miss my own dad, who’d be a terrific, loving, fun grandpa to my kids.

I’ve recently gotten my children involved in my preparations for my Our of the Darkness Overnight walk. 

India refers to suicide as “sumocide”—thus giving me the imagine of large Japanese men in loincloths hurling themselves at each other with intent to crush to death. Which is not great but that’s the truth.

In any case, the other night she got weepy and said she wished she’d gotten to meet him and asked if Jordan had. And then I had to fight tears and say no, he hadn’t either.

 And days like today are harder because they underline who you don’t have. But it’s also true that we celebrate who we do have, and my kids are lucky to have Nick as a dad. And today we celebrate his Uncle Peter’s 80th birthday, which is a milestone to celebrate.

To all the dads, I celebrate you. To all those missing dads, I see you and I feel you.

Happy Father’s Day.

Monday, June 10, 2019

I wanna glide down over Mulholland

Now that last week is over, I'm going to tell you it was one of those weeks where I felt less attached to life than I otherwise might.

I was not in crisis.

More like I was exhausted, demoralized, and really not excited about being in this particular body in this particular life.

I understand very well the repercussions of exiting life the way my dad did. I know, I really do know how much it would devastate my family, and screw up my children forever.

Though my dad attempted suicide the first time when I was 11, I didn't really understand that it was an option until I myself hit a low, low point in my 30s. My entire world felt pointless. Both pointless and devastating.

I was alone, and would be alone forever.

I didn't make a plan, but I had an idea. If, in fact, everyone on the planet except me coupled up, and I was the only one still single, then, when my parents died, I could opt for suicide.

I couldn't do it before that, because it would be too cruel. But at that point, it was an option.

This thought soothed me. I had a solution. An out.

Now I don't have those thoughts in that way, because, god willing, my kids will outlive me, and I would never do to them what my dad did to us.

That's the rational part of me.

The irrational part of me sometimes crooks a finger and whispers that it would be so easy. The line between here and not here is a fine one, and sliding over it would be so quick, so painless.

Like I said, I'm not in crisis, and I wasn't last week, even though I was at a pretty low point for a sustained amount of time.

What I'm saying, I guess, is that I'm here, and I'm glad I'm here, but sometimes it's very hard. And I appreciate knowing I have a community that will support me if I reach out and ask.

Sometimes I ask. Sometimes I free fall. I am just lucky, so lucky there are people to catch me.

Big hugs and much love to all of you.

Thursday, June 06, 2019

Butterscotch clouds, a tangerine and a side order of ham

I used to think I was a morning person.

Have I told you this before? I also to also have a great memory.

In any case, I told Nick the other night that I used to be a morning person and he laughed so hard I thought he was going to hurt himself.

To support my assertion, I said that in Peace Corps, I voluntarily got up at 5:45 am to go running every morning. The fact is, I went to sleep at 9:00 every night, because there were no streetlights, and once it was dark, it was dark.

But in any case, my contention is that I used to be a morning person. I also told him that two different roommates, Maude and Jane, thought I was a morning person.

It could, however, also be by contrast, because neither of them prefer to speak at all in the morning.

At any rate, at some point I became a not-morning person. And there have been years where I could barely struggle out of bed at all.

There were years that I blamed my children, because they were, in fact, to blame for waking me at regular intervals throughout the night.

But now they are solid little sleepers.

And lately my sleep is worse than ever.

So now I'm wondering if maybe I should cut out coffee entirely. Or have, like, one cup in the morning and then be done for the day.

This is very much not my M.O. I like many cups of coffee. Although I do stop with the caffeine by noon. Ish. But maybe, maybe at this juncture, that's not good enough.

I have a friend who quit coffee entirely because she found it made her anxious. Does it make me anxious? I don't know. Not sleeping definitely makes me anxious.

Nick has, upon threats of clockily harm, muffled the Heirloom of My Discontent. So now when I'm up at 3:00 am reviewing every single misstep I've ever taken in my entire life, at least I'm not also counting the hour and the half hour with DING DING fucking DING.

That's better. And yet, still I struggle.

Maybe I go to one cup. Or maybe switch to decaf. Maybe I give up coffee entirely. I do enjoy coffee. And caffeine.

But there have been a variety of things I've enjoyed over the years that have not been my friends.

Have any of you quit drinking coffee and felt like it improved your life?

Monday, May 20, 2019

No more love on the runs...

Scatological post alert.

You've been warned.

So I had this colonoscopy and after they woke me up from the coziest sleep ever the nurse was all, "So, the prep only cleaned out half your colon."

Once I was dressed and in a room, the doctor came in and said the same thing to Nick (husband and verified ride home) and explained that she couldn't examine the top half. Which has to happen.


I had no idea I still had half a colon full of poo, because how do you know if this much diarrhea is enough diarrhea? Only half-enough diarrhea?

Yes. It was only half enough.

I seriously felt inadequate when the doctor, who I like, was all, "I was sure you'd be clean. You've been having diarrhea."

Did you know that the medical requirement for reporting your diarrhea is five times per day?

No. If they'd specified this I would have said that I was inadequate in the diarrhea requirement department.

So she was like, "Let's get this scheduled."

I dutifully, like the first born rule follower that I am, scheduled for the closest available date. Which was this afternoon.

This coincided with my children's dental appointments. But guess what luck? They happen to be in the same building! On a different floor!

So my kids can get their teeth cleaned while I get my colonoscopy!

I told my friend Meg about this awesomeness of this coincidence and she replied, "Said no one ever."

But Betty has to pick me up anyway. So she'll hang out with them, and then they'll all get me and we'll Uber home.

I think it's rather clever. Or disastrous. We'll see.

So for the second round, I had to stop eating Friday night, then Saturday and Sunday mornings drink magnesium citrate. I chose lemon and grape, both of which were, in the scheme, rather pleasant.

Since Saturday morning I've had nothing but this prep stuff, broth, popsicles, coffee, tea, and kombucha. And lollipops because I was feeling rather sorry for myself.

And then, then Sunday night and Monday morning I had to drink this terrible Suprep concoction, which tastes like cherry cough medicine mixed with death. 

I said before that I have a high tolerance for drinking weird shit. And I meant it. I was great at random frat party shots. I've drunk herbal concoctions that tasted like socks and dirt from my acupuncturist. I can take fish oil with a spoon. I've choked down a variety of medications. 

But this is where I draw the line. I mean, I did it. But it was incredibly tough this time.

I have this belief that I can do anything if I have to. I've dealt with terrible shit I never expected to deal with, and worse stuff I had some expectation of dealing with but had no idea how awful it would actually be.

I always think I can carry more weight than I sometimes actually can.

I'm not suggesting I want to be tested. I'm just saying, if I have to do it, I believe I can, no matter how wretched.

So back to my first colonoscopy.

Immediately upon leaving the doctor, feeling demoralized because I didn't get an A in colon prep, I left a WhatsApp for Kristin and Wendy wailing, "I didn't poop enough! I have to do this all over again!"

Kris and Wendy always, always react differently, with Kris defaulting to drama, sympathy, and if not worst-case, then terrible-case scenario. I fall more on this end of the spectrum in reactions.

Wendy, on the other hand, while always supportive, is more like, "Well, that sucks. Now let's move forward." Which is very helpful.

So I left this message for my friends about the state that I was in.

Kristin responded along the lines of, "YOU POOR THING! THIS IS TERRIBLE!" 

And then she said, 'I didn't want to mention this before your procedure, but my impression from a friend in France who had this done is that you have to basically get in yoga plow position, putting your feet on the floor over your head, with your ass in the air the whole time. It's just so awful! You must be so  naked and exposed!"

Once I stopped laughing, I said it is completely not like that, and you just curl up in fetal position under a blanket, no ass in the air, no maintaining a diffiuclt pose while they feed a tube into your butt. I told her that you're way more exposed when you're squeezing a baby out of your vagina.

At least, not in the US of A.

And Wendy?

Wendy said, "Who knew you were so full of shit?"