melbell51

THAT Demographic

It’s a hard thing, trying to decide what to do with my life, when at the age of twenty I feel exhausted and want to retire.

I don’t know when I got so cynical, but looking at colleges, again, makes me dread the thought of living in a two by four, eating iceberg lettuce and ranch dressing five days a week. Been there, done that, and no, as much as people romanticize dorm life, a shoebox is still a shoebox.

Not that I live in a palace, or anywhere close, but honestly, what’s the point?

If we commit ourselves to four years under the umbrella of “learned knowledge” then shouldn’t there be something better on the other side? Not 80,000 dollars in student loans and unemployment, hanging out on Wall Street hoping for somebody to take pity on us.

It’s just not fair.

Changing the world sounds great, but you only get one shot at life, and if I go through this again, I fear that I will end up right back to where I started, where most people end up right around the time the mid life crisis comes calling: married to a planner, a desk job, a task list. Endless meetings, eating meals in the car, accurately calculated gym time, penciled in cocktail hours, regardless if it’s one, two, three, or four people in my life. Why does job success mean sacrificing joie de vivre?

If I don’t care about money, which I really don’t, then why would I do it? If I love something, I do it, regardless of whether or not I get recognition for it. I do it because it makes me happy. If I have to brown nose my way through life, then honestly, there are better things I could be doing with my time, like reading and baking almond cakes. Really.

Of course, now I really am starting to sound like a 1950s housewife, waiting for prince charming to come and sweep me off my feet, kiss me on the forehead and hand me my minivan. Honestly, as of now, it doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world.

Where does that put me in the feminist movement? Equality and quality of life are two very different things. I’d rather some stranger think less of me and live a fulfilled life than waste the one I have trying to get him to notice me. There are lots of other people, and there always will be, who will value me based on the person I am and the interactions we have. To the people that matter, we are not statistics or social groups. We are lives.

So why do it? Why go to college, why try for a dream job, a dream career, a dream car? Honestly, I want to go back to school for the simple reason that I enjoy it. I love learning and I love reading and I love debating. But with college applications and admissions essays come the questions, the planner theories, the “what do you want to major in” and “what do you plan to do with that major” questions. Ugh. I’ve been through this already and it didn’t work! Can’t I just say that I want to know who we are and how we got here?

Nope. You have to know where we’re going. And no matter how advanced we become, we will just never know.

So maybe in the midst of all the planners and appointments, faith comes in to play. Faith that, if we miss that appointment or lose our planner, our lives are not lost, and somehow, some way, we will continue to put one foot in front of another. I have to tell myself this because I have no idea where I will be four months from now. I may not ever make it to Nice, but if I don’t, it will be because something much better or much more important took precedence. I can’t quantify my life based on number of circumstances or interactions or essays. Those things are man made, like technology and media, and things like that come and go with human evolution. So I can’t keep guessing. I can dream, oh man do I ever, but I can’t expect dreams to come true simply because I dream them. Honestly, right now, I just want a good nights sleep.

I know I should be more ambitious. I am young, and part of the generation that will supposedly take over the world. But I’ve seen the dangerous repercussions of ambition for self, and honestly, I just don’t know if I’m willing to put myself through it again. I want a guarantee, which I know I cannot, and will never get.

Things That Make Me Happy

The hair…
It did this on its own.

“May there always be sunshine.

May there always be blue skies.

May there always be Mama.

May there always be me!”

OctoberFeast!

Second attempt at a happily candid photo. Let me show you the first attempt, below.

After a mid-week scare that involved the (socially questionable) blue clad Geniuses at Apple confiscating my beloved laptop, I am happy to report that all is well and fully functional, which means I can blog again, with pictures of course!

Last week rang in one of the best months of the year: October. Pumpkins, gourds, hayrides, autumn leaves, cider doughnuts, pumpkin pie…

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin pie
She made a special pumpkin pie.
Pumpkin pie, pumpkin pieeeeee…
You’ve neeever tasted such a pumpkin pie!

(Now picture lots of kids dressed in prairie outfits, my mother holding a wooden bowl and spoon, and my father playing his guitar, and you’ve got my childhood.)

That’s my father, the guitar player……..

Sadly, I grew up, and after many years of attempting to dress my dogs up in prairie hats, I concluded that some traditions are best left in the past.

On the bright side, there is always room for new traditions (look Ma, I’m growing!) and with my life being what it is now, with new friends and new experiences, it seemed only fitting that we create a new way to ring in the season. Enter OctoberFeast!

The idea started with a trip to the farmers market and the serendipitous discovering of sweet potatoes that were the size of my head. I kid you not. From there came a recipe idea for a fall-themed chili, which I had been brooding over since the weather turned chilly (ha-ha-ha, get it?). And since I have the best people in my life, they hopped right on board, contributing this jalepeno cheddar cornbread and an apple crisp for which I’d trade my soul to get the recipe (hear that, Elly?)

My crowning moment, personally, was this recipe. It started with me throwing a bunch of random things in a pot (as most of my recipes start), but unlike the majority of experiments, this one actually turned out delicious!

Serve it piping hot with a piece of cornbread in the middle to soak it up like a sponge, or with crumbled crackers for a hearty fall lunch!

Apple crisp is optional. Wine is not.

Autumn Turkey Chili

Serves a whole lotta folk!

Fall in a pot.

One pound ground turkey, preferably organic

Two stalks celery, chopped

Two small or one mammoth carrot, chopped

One large white onion, chopped

Two medium or one mammoth (the size of your head) sweet potato, chopped into bite size pieces

Three cans white beans in bean liquid

Two cups chicken stock

Three bay leaves

One cinnamon stick

Cumin seeds

Caraway seeds

Several good shakes of sweet smoked paprika

A few good shakes of round cumin

A few handfuls of dried parsley

Salt and pepper

Place your largest stockpot over medium-high heat; add the turkey, break it up with a wooden utensil, then let it sit until it begins to caramelize. Add salt, pepper, and the cumin and caraway seeds (a few sprinkles of each).

When it looks like this, add the onion, celery, and carrot, and cook for a few minutes until the carrots are slightly tender but still crispy. Add the sweet potato, season with salt, pepper, paprika, and ground cumin, and cook for five minutes more.

Add two cans of beans, with liquid. Add four cans worth of water plus two of chicken stock, then bring the whole thing to a boil and reduce to simmer. Puree the third can of beans, with liquid, in a blender until smooth. Add to the simmering pot, along with the bay leaves and cinnamon, bring to a boil and boil, uncovered, for five minutes.

Reduce to simmer, cover, and let cook for twenty to thirty minutes, or until the liquid has thickened and the sweet potatoes are soft. Sprinkle in the dried parsley. Taste, adjust seasonings, and serve.

Happy Fall.

The Big Dipper

“There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them.”
-CS Lewis, The Screwtape Letters

“Sometimes when I pray, or I’m in Church, I close my eyes and see tiny specks of light all around me. That’s how I know God is real. Even though I’m so stunted, and such a sinner, God still gives me tiny glimpses of his wonder.
I’ve never told anyone that before.”

“Wow.
Thank you.”

“I can’t believe you and I are talking like this.”
“Neither can I.”
“I didn’t think it would ever happen.”
Inhale.
“Do you think…
Do you think God gave me this time because, because he knew I was broken?”
Exhale.
“He gave me this time to come back to him.”
Inhale.
“He knew…he knows…how broken I was. That I needed to fix myself. That I needed to fix us.”
Exhale.
“Sweety…”
“I’m crying because I’m so happy. I don’t deserve any of this, but I’m…I’m here.”
Exhale. Inhale, exhale, sniff, wipe.

“When did you get to be so wise?”
“I went through a lot of crap at a really young age.”

Sniff, wipe.

“It’s so beautiful out here, Mama.”
“What do you see?”
“Stars. Tons and tons of ’em. And trees, lots of trees, all silhouetted against the sky.”
“Do you see the moon?”
Stare.
“Yes! Yes! It’s right there! It’s…huge! It’s in my face! It’s so bright!”
“Wait! Let me see it. If we’re looking at the same moon, then we’re not so far away, right?”
“You can’t miss it. It’s right THERE.”
“Oh…where? All I can see are trees.”
“Do you see the big dipper?”
“The one with the handle?”
“Yeah.”
“Wait a minute.
One…two…three…
Yes! I see the big dipper!”
Inhale. Exhale.
“There. We’re both looking at the same big dipper.
See? We’re not that far away.”

Gaze.

Gaze.

“It’s so big. A million times bigger than us.”
“And think, then, if this is just what we see, imagine how big God is.”

“Do you think he looks like a man?”
“Oh, no. I don’t even think He’s a He. But what humans conceive is so limited; we draw pictures of him with a white beard and a staff, but it’s all limited.
It’s an intelligence. A persona. Omnipotent, omnipresent…you’re never alone. Even alone, you’re never truly alone.”
“That’s comforting.”
“Yeah…”

“I’d like to be a star….a great ball of gas that just exists, burning and burning, energetic, aware.”
“A light to the world.”
“Maybe?
Just light. Nothing but light.”
“Salt and light, like Father says. We’re supposed to be salt and light to the world.”

Sniff, wipe.
Exhale.

“Yeah.”