Rachel the pedestrian
I enjoy living near downtown, but I do not particularly enjoy walking to downtown destinations by myself. A classic reason from earlier this week:
(click photos to enlarge)
Later that evening, while it was still light, I was grateful for the driver of the Honda Element who apparently went out of his way to make sure I was safe.
Although the man was quite a distance away, I like to be smart and vigilant, so I kept my eye on him as I approached and crossed the intersection. I don’t have any reason to think I was in danger, but of course the driver had no way of knowing what might have just transpired.
(For a minute or so prior to creating this post, I was mildly distressed because I couldn’t find my toy cars. I’m 29.)
deliciously domestic
I couldn’t have been more domestic this evening if I had tried.
At 6:19, I decided to make pizza for dinner. I’ve been wanting to experiment with different dough recipes, so I pulled out my Moosewood cookbook and got to work.
As soon as I put on my favorite apron — the one I sewed for myself a year or so ago — the phone rang. It was a friend of mine wondering whether I wanted any cucumbers from his garden. I didn’t, but while we chatted about produce, I grabbed my camera and started documenting the blog post that I knew would emerge.
If you had walked past my house a few minutes after that, you would have heard a terrible sound coming from my kitchen. It was the sound of my food processor pulverizing rolled oats into something resembling coarse oat flour. Before long, I had mixed and kneaded the dough, and it was ready to rise. I plopped it in a bowl, laid a towel over it, and placed it in the oven. The pilot light of my gas oven creates the perfect warm environment for yeast to do its thing.
Hey kids! There is a lump of pizza dough hidden in this picture. Can you find it? (Hint: look for the yummy oat-y flecks.)
My next domestic destination was my gross basement, where I put in a load of laundry. The detergent? Homemade. The powder remaining in the container won’t be enough for the next load, so I added a bar of Fels Naptha to my shopping list. I still have plenty of washing soda and borax on hand, which makes me feel a bit like a 1940s housewife.
While the pizza dough was rising, I hopped in my car and drove out to my garden to pick a few veggies. The plan was to pick some cherry tomatoes and a green pepper to use as pizza toppings, but I also ended up picking another cucumber and half a bucket of green beans. I rent a plot in a community garden coordinated by the local Parks & Rec, so it’s much more of a hassle to go out to my garden than it would be if it were right in my backyard. But two miles there, two miles back, and the pizza dough was ready.
Although I love mozzarella cheese as much as Little Caesar and Papa John do, I sprinkled on just enough to hold the toppings in place.
I intended to bake it on my new pizza stone, but that turned out to be a better idea in theory than in practice. How exactly am I supposed to transfer a fully assembled pizza onto a preheated stone? In a moment of wise foresight, I had assembled it on a baking sheet instead of the counter, and even though I hadn’t greased the pan, the dough didn’t stick a bit. The results were dee-licious.
When I left work today, I hadn’t been planning to freeze green beans this evening, but fortunately it doesn’t take too long to process half a bucket of beans. For someone who thought she would plant just enough to have fresh beans for herself this summer, I sure have been stashing a surprising quantity of green beans in the freezer.
I suppose if I wanted to be even more sickeningly domestic this evening, I would have mowed the yard or cleaned the bathroom, but hey — we all have our limits.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a small batch of chili on the stove that needs to be tasted.
fortnight in review
It’s so handy that the English language provides a word that accurately describes the period of time during which I’ve barely been blogging. There were so many things that happened during the past couple weeks that I could have been writing about… but I’ve been too busy living (and loving!) my life.
So here’s a little recap:
Two weeks ago I was sitting around a campfire with some friends when a guy I’ve known for 13 years finally let me in on a little secret: s’mores are even more delicious with a layer of peanut butter. I still can’t believe I never thought of that before!
One of my favorite foods is steamed shrimp seasoned with Old Bay. I have a good friend who loves it as much as I do, so a few times a year (usually near our birthdays or when I need to borrow his truck…), one of us picks up some shrimp at Kroger, the other person makes a side dish or two, and we enjoy a messy meal! Except last week I was thanking him for helping with a big project, so I provided the whole meal. When you’re eating shrimp, potatoes and green beans become finger foods. Just FYI.
Speaking of veggies, my little garden is graciously producing vegetables! So far I’ve picked cucumbers, cherry tomatoes (just a few!), and lots of green beans. I gave beans to several friends, ate as much as I could, and froze the rest. If the birds don’t get them first, I’ll soon have enough cherry tomatoes that everyone in Harrisonburg can have one.
Last weekend I stopped by a local consignment store that sells mostly clothing, as well as some home items. To my surprise and delight, I found a copy of The Joy of Cooking (a classic cookbook) in perfect condition for only six bucks. I love a bargain!
I’m 29 and single, so it may surprise you that I declined an invitation from a guy I know who offered to drive in from another state just to take me out to dinner last weekend. It’s called gambling with my future… and since I’m not going to show my hand in this public setting, all I’m going to say is that this was a risk I was willing to take.
Last Sunday afternoon found me standing at my kitchen sink filling 40 water balloons. That evening I helped to coordinate a celebration to mark the end of our church’s 90-day sponsorship of an Iraqi refugee family. After a meal and a short program, youth of all ages enjoyed some fun with water balloons and other outdoor games. I should have played, if only to burn off the calories from the amazing baklava…
Uh-oh. This is getting long, and there’s still so much more to say! OK, moving right along.
Last weekend, Young House Love (formerly known as This Young House) decided to clean out their garage and encouraged readers to tackle a neglected space in their own home. So I took a little time on Friday night to clean out my screened-in back porch, which mostly involved taking cardboard to be recycled and taking other junk to the basement. It didn’t take much time, but it was long overdue, so it feels good to be able to walk out there again. I even put a couple chairs and a little table out there so I can sit and watch the gorgeous sunsets.
I don’t know which former owners of my home thought it would be a good idea to paint the trim in the master bedroom BLUE, but I’ve recently put two coats of white paint on, and it still needs another coat. Ugh. Meanwhile, I finally bought a new mattress. Until Tuesday night, I was sleeping on an old twin bed in my guest bedroom. Now that I’m the proud owner of a new queen-sized Beautyrest, I feel like I’m sleeping in a luxurious hotel. I’m not even exaggerating.
On Thursday and Friday evenings, I got to watch the reflection of my fingers playing the keys of a grand piano under bright stage lights. I was playing worship music with a great team of musicians for two worship services at a conference, and it was fun to be totally in my element. I need to figure out how to do things like that more often. When I got home on Saturday afternoon, I updated my Facebook status to read: “Rachel spent the morning in a meeting with a bunch of men with mustaches and a doctor wearing a fanny pack.” An interesting weekend indeed.
I think I’ve probably maxed out the attention spans of my readers, so I’ll save my restaurant reviews and book review for later posts. And stay tuned for pictures of my no-longer-neglected spaces!
oh, the pressure
Last I checked, Best Western was a hotel, not a comedy club…
(Spotted last week in Harrisonburg, VA.)
an open letter to the rabbit
Dear rabbit,
You were the first thing that made me laugh today. Since I live alone, and since nothing about waking up at 6:00 a.m. is particularly amusing, I usually don’t laugh until sometime after I arrive at work. But this morning when I was out for a walk, you actually caused me to laugh out loud. (This was, of course, before it started raining when I was two miles from home.)
I appreciate the humor you provided, but I’d like to offer a few words of advice.
1. If you want to avoid being pancaked by an SUV, I suggest that you hang out somewhere other than the middle of the road. Roads can be dangerous places, and unless you’re a suicidal rabbit, they’re really not places that you want to be spending a lot of time.
2. If you do decide to lounge around on the pavement, pay attention. Listen for the sound of approaching vehicles, and consider vacating the premises before said vehicles threaten your life.
3. Have an emergency evacuation plan. Determine in advance whether the best escape route is into the other lane or onto the grass.
4. When you decide that it’s time to put the emergency evacuation plan into effect, commit to it. Do not hesitate. Do not waver. Pull a Palin and do not blink. Most importantly, do not change your mind seven times… because that’s what you did this morning, and it nearly cost you your life.
In case you have suppressed the terrifying memory, let me remind you what happened. It was early morning, and you were sitting on the road. You were so distracted by the beautiful woman walking towards you that you didn’t hear the SUV approaching from the opposite direction. The driver slowed down and then swerved into the other lane to avoid hitting you. You started running towards the grass, but then, like a daredevil, you ran right back in front of the vehicle again. And then you took a step towards the grass. And then a step towards the other lane. And a step towards the grass again. You must have alternated back and forth like this five or seven times in very rapid succession. For a moment you looked like you were stuck to that spot and couldn’t get away. And then you darted into someone’s lawn.
Your antics were hilarious, but it wasn’t worth putting your life on the line just to entertain me. Next time you begin to implement a plan to get out of harm’s way, commit! Meanwhile, thanks for the laugh.
Sincerely,
the young woman in the Nikes
don’t bother breaking into my Subaru
An article posted on hburgnews yesterday alerted city residents that theft from vehicles has been increasing, and in the newspaper this morning I read that the person responsible for at least twelve of these break-ins was arrested. The best part? An inmate AT THE JAIL spotted the teenager breaking into a car at the parking deck in the next block and reported the incident.
I always lock my car doors (more for personal safety than anything else), but in case you’re considering breaking into my car, I went ahead and took a little inventory of my Subaru for you. Here’s what you would find:
- reusable grocery bags
- camp chair
- blanket
- shovel
- plant stakes
- string
- weed digger
- watering can
- garden gloves
- sunglasses *
- 3×5 card with Ephesians 3:20-21 *
- 89 cents *
- jumper cables
- small toolkit
- bungee cord
- flashlight
- collapsible scissors
- plastic bags
- 5 maps
- store discount cards
- tampon
- spoon
- knife
- salt shaker
- baby wipes
- hand sanitizer
- pen
- notepad
- microfiber cloth
- inspection, registration, and insurance papers
- ice scraper
- floor mats *
* these are the only things visible through the windows
Things you won’t find in my car:
- GPS
- iPod
- CD player
- CDs (obviously)
- more than a dollar
- anything of value to anyone except gardeners, grocery shoppers… and people who like to be prepared for just about anything!
things I took to church
Things I took to church this morning:
- homemade oatmeal bread for the potluck
- peach jam
- book that I needed to return to someone
- order of worship for the youth-led service I was coordinating
- hymnal
- chord sheets
- flash drive with a PowerPoint file
- egg shaker
- pitch pipe
Things I did NOT take to church this morning:
- Bible
Oops.
six days with 8000 Mennonites
It’s impossible to summarize six days with 8000 Mennonites, so I won’t even try. On my blog, you get what you pay for, so here are just a few snippets from the week.
On Monday night a week ago, I packed a suitcase and a brown-bag breakfast and set my alarm clock for 4:30. I didn’t get to sleep until sometime after midnight, but at 6:00 Tuesday morning, I climbed aboard a charter bus (er, “luxury motorcoach”) with a bunch of half-awake teenagers and a handful of other fearless youth leaders. Destination: the Mennonite Church USA Convention 2009 in Columbus, Ohio.
I wasn’t even planning to go to the convention until two weeks before it started. One of the youth leaders from our church was unable to go, so I agreed to go along at the last minute. Lucky me — I got to miss out on all of the planning, preparation, coordination, and fundraising, but I got to enjoy all of the fun, meaningful times with the 14 youth from our church. I had been a youth leader several years ago, and I definitely enjoyed being back in that role again.
I don’t know who I thought I was fooling, but I actually thought I might find time to write a quick blog each day. “Quick” is not a word I would use to describe the few minutes I spent each day checking my email via the slowest internet connection I’ve used since about 1996. But the best thing about the little temporary internet cafe set up by Third Way Media (formerly Mennonite Media) is that everyone and their mom walked past, and approximately 57 percent of them knew me and stopped to chat.
More than 4000 youth and their leaders worshipped together in a hockey arena twice a day, and the music and the speakers were excellent. Among my favorite speakers were Greg Boyd, Shane Hipps, and Shane Claiborne. I actually got to hear Greg speak twice, and it was interesting to read his reflections on it yesterday.
On Wednesday night at 11:00, our group met for a time of reflection on that evening’s worship service. When we finished, we walked out to the hotel lobby, only to discover that there were people stuck in one of the elevators. The elevator had stopped about two and a half feet from the floor. People who looked official had managed to get the door open just wide enough to stick an arm through. Claustrophobia, anyone?
I attended a variety of interesting seminars, but not even a great seminar called “Soldiers Speak” could keep the sleep-deprived guy behind me awake. Not long after the hour-long seminar began, he was snoring away. After a few minutes, I turned around and was surprised to see a high-schooler. He was leaning forward, so I nudged his shoulder a bit, woke him up, and whispered, “Hey, you’re snoring. Thought you might want to know.” He apologized and said something about having low blood sugar. When the seminar ended, he apologized again and thanked me for waking him up. If you ever decide to wake up a snoring teenage boy, be sure to pick the most polite kid in the room.
After lunch on Saturday, I had a little time to kill before the first seminar of the afternoon, so I sat down along the wall near room E161 to read the final edition of mPress. There were tons of people (especially youth) waiting in the same area, so I barely noticed when a man came and sat down several feet away from me. After a few moments, he turned to me and asked, “Are you Rachel?” What? I had never seen this guy in my life. He told me that he’s following me on Twitter, and recognized me from my profile picture! So we chatted for a bit until it was time to grab one of the last remaining seats in the popular seminar I wanted to attend… 20 minutes before it started.
On the way home yesterday, we stopped at a rest stop in Pennsylvania, and as I was standing in the long line for the women’s restroom, a guy I had never seen before walked past me, stopped, and turned around. “Do I know you?” Here we go again. “I don’t think so,” I said with confidence. Undeterred, he said, “You’re not Katie? You look almost identical to a friend of mine. That’s freaky.” I told him it happens all the time. Really. In case you think I’m exaggerating, I should mention that earlier in the week, I met a guy from Kansas who thought he knew me… until I told him where I’m from. Maybe he knows Katie from Pittsburgh too?
This really doesn’t have anything to do with the convention, but on the back of the nametag that hung from my neck all week, there was a place to write emergency contact info and list any allergies. On the last full day of the convention, it dawned on me that I actually have allergy information I should have listed. After 28 years of not being allergic to anything, I had forgotten that I developed an allergy to penicillin a couple years ago. Oops.
I had a great time at the convention, but by the time I got home last night, I felt like I was on the verge of overdosing on Mennonites. Today my friend Jeremy’s Facebook status said he was “still feeling hungover from all that “Mennoniteness” of convention.” Whether it’s an overdose or a hangover, I’m just glad I’m not allergic.
