If only everything were this easy!

"If you believe that earth’s natural resources are limitless, which maybe was excusable 100 years ago but is the height of ignorance now,  or that “technology will fix it” or that we can simply go mine them in outer space with Newt Gingrich, I guess none of this worries you. But if you believe in reality, and you’d like that to be a place that your kids get to enjoy, this is a big deal."

Today I read a NYTimes article called We Could Be Heroes. Intriguing, right? Who doesn't want to be a hero? So, what's the key? Essentially, the article is about a very simple, immediate way in which we can influence the world, particularly climate change, increasing greenhouse gases, diminishing land, forests, flora (and with it the loss of and endangerment of many species), etc. Can you guess what it is? The simple, small change we can make TODAY that could make the kind of difference in the world that new technologies, research, electric cars and renewable energy sources can't begin to match (at least for the time being)?

Yep. EATING LESS (or no) MEAT.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. This is one of my pet subjects. I am always harping on about the pros of vegetarianism (which isn't actually even necessarily what the article is promoting). But it's true. Read the article.  Read what I posted here about a myriad of other reasons to make the switch (or read Eating Animals by Jonathan Safran Foer. Great book.). But whatever you do, please at least consider the way you are eating and the affects your daily consumption has on your life, the planet, our future and the future of our children. It's at least worth giving a little thought! Especially since I can promise from experience, eating less or no meat truly is EASY! It takes a little extra thought, especially at first, and maybe some adjustment. But today there are so many options available to us that avoiding meat is no biggie in terms of sacrifice. Yet it can have a huge influence when it comes to impact!

Habits

I like to think of myself as healthy--I mean, I like to exercise! Today, for example, I went running.

What I don't like to confess is that before going running I ate half a bowl of cookie dough...

...and I almost skipped running to eat the rest.

I'll take the side aches

... as long as they come from excessive amounts of laughter (or possibly excessive consumption of chocolate.. but that's another story*.)

Now, what you may or may not know about me is that I have an exceptional sense of humor. In fact, if you say something and I don't laugh, I can pretty much promise you it wasn't funny and never will be. And I feel bad for you, because I find most things funny.

I also really enjoy funny people. I have quite a few really hilarious friends (and I love them SO MUCH!). Just today I read three clever blog posts in a row (1,2,3), and I thought, "Gosh I'm lucky! I know so many funny people who make my life super great!"

But then I started getting a little depressed. Because while I am quite proud of my spectacular ability to appreciate humor, I also rather bemoan that fact that I don't have quite the same talent for creating laughter that I witness in my wittier friends. And I'll be honest, I hate them a little bit for it....

But anyway, the point of this post is, whether I am lucky or lacking, I love laughing! Thus, I'm sharing with you what those witty women wrote (see 1,2,3 above) and I hope you enjoy it (if you don't, I feel sorry for you)!

*Also, the real reason my side hurts is because
I bought a large bag of peanut butter M&M's for lunch today
because I was in a hurry,
and also, I really wanted them,
and I've eaten almost all of them over the past 4 hours.

Ooops.

Je-ju

Somethings are just meant to be.

Jen also wanted me to tell everyone about our delicious dinner (that accompanied this picture):

We made falafel and tzatziki sause and ate delicious pitas. And also clementines and wheat thins. It was fabulous. If you want the recipes, try Google (that's what we did. But then, of course, we didn't really follow any recipe exactly, because that makes cooking too boring for me!).

The advantages of an onion

A delicious addition to spaghetti sauce
or quesadillas, fajitas and stir fry.
An essential for soups and stews.
Quite useful for feigning emotion
or bringing an entire room to tears
or perhaps blinding an enemy--you never know when that might come in handy.

For some reason I had the sudden urge to buy an onion today. They just seem so practical and delicious! Seriously!

It has been years since I have really cared much for onions, but there was a phase in my life when I ate them all the time. I loved to put onion on sandwiches and in salads. I habitually cooked onions and ate them with almost any meal--I especially loved onions cooked with zucchini (my very favorite veggie!). But then onions lost their appeal. Suddenly they seemed too strong; too potent and harsh. My delicate palate could only handle them in small doses hidden amongst other foods. Then I came to college and started buying food for myself, but dear old onion never made it into the cart. And slowly, he was forgotten.

But that is about to change. On my next trip to the store the onion will have a place of honor in the front of the cart. I have great plans for this pungent friend--oh the miraculous meals that I will make! I am so very glad to have my eyes opened once again to the advantages of this oft misunderstood root.

In honor of this joyous occasion I shall share with you a poem I read a few years that speaks of this dear vegetable in much more elegant words I can summon. . .

"Onions"
by William Matthews

How easily happiness begins by
dicing onions. A lump of sweet butter
slithers and swirls across the flow
of the sauté pan, especially if its
errant path crosses a tiny stick
of olive oil. Then a tumble of onions.

This could mean soup or risotto
or chutney (from the Sanskrit
chatni, to lick). Slowly the onions
go limp and then nacreous
and then what cookbooks call clear,
though if they were eyes you could see

clearly the cataracts in them.
It's true it can make you weep
to peel them, to unfurl and to tease
from the taut ball first the brittle,
caramel-colored and decrepit
papery outside layer, the least

recent and reticent onion
wrapped around its growing body,
for there's nothing to an onion
but skin, and it's true you can go on
weeping as you go on in, through
the moist middle skins, the sweetest

and thickest, and you can go on
in to the core, to the bud-like,
acrid, fibrous skins densely
clustered there, stalky and in-
complete, and these are the most
pungent, like the nuggets of nightmare

and rage and murmury animal
comfort that infant humans secrete.
This is the best domestic perfume.
You sit down to eat with a rumor
of onions still on your twice-washed
hands and lift to your mouth a hint

of a story about loam and usual
endurance. It's there when you clean up
and rinse the wine glasses and make
a joke, and you leave the minutest
whiff of it on the light switch,
later, when you climb the stairs.



"Onions" by William Matthews cited from The Vintage Book of Contemporary American Poetry Second Edition edited by J.D. McClatchy (2003). Vintage Books: New York. Pages 491-492.