Today I’m sharing another one of my Astoundingly Obvious Observations (AOOs): The more conveniently available food is, the more you’ll (probably) eat. I’ve talked about this idea before, but its truth has been brought home to me even more strongly of late as I’ve kept my intake of sugar under control. Keeping sweet items and other snack foods out of the house means that I can’t just grab a handful of something if the urge hits.
How many times have you heard a person say, “My wellness counselor . . . “ or “My nutritionist . . . “ and then inform you that s/he can’t eat dairy, or gluten, or some other harmless-unless-you-have-a-diagnosed-condition substance? Quite a few, I’d guess. So you might ask, “What does a nutritionist actually know about nutrition? Or a wellness counselor about health? Are there any qualifications that these people are required to have?”
Hope you got the Dr. Seuss reference.
Anyway, we had a lovely, lovely wedding at our church Saturday. The colors were navy blue and yellow, the flowers were sunflowers and baby’s breath, and all in all it was truly charming. They even had little packets of sunflower seeds at each place setting, and while normally I think such things are a total waste, somehow this little gesture seemed quite fitting even though I have no plans to actually, like, plant them. (I’ll probably give them to my mother-in-law.) People had labored to put up draped
I have a number of posts in mind—a great new muffin recipe, some more anti-fad-diet rants—but for today here are some ideas for you to ponder as you head into the rest of the summer with all of its get-togethers. I’m sure there are cookouts and weddings yet to come, family visits and maybe even block parties. (Jim and I are pondering that last one.) There’s always the temptation to simply check off boxes for the menu. We have potato salad from Costco—check. We have fried chicken from King Soopers—check. We have a cake from King Soopers or Costco
Well, folks, it’s all over. My tiny part in this fairly big production is now a thing of the past. It was so much fun! We didn’t have a huge crowd for either performance, but the people who did come were quite enthusiastic. And our small chorus added to the overall effect. Everyone was pretty pleased, I hope. We added to our stock of good will with the Arapahoe Philharmonic. We bonded. We invested time. And we got to hear Mozart’s glorious, glorious music performed by some very talented singers. I’m so glad I stepped up and volunteered to do this. (Be sure to read Laura Vanderkam’s post about her own singing experiences. So fitting that she wrote about that today!)
And now it’s Monday morning, and life has moved on. I came home yesterday at about 6:00 and just vegged out in front of the TV, but that was perfectly okay. This morning I’m up and at ‘em. There’s so much stuff to do! Writing projects. Gardening projects. Getting ready for the big trip to France in three and a half weeks. Getting ready for the final concert of the year for the Chorale. (Do come! It’s going to be such a nice evening!) And just the ongoing business of life. The lovely performance is receding into the past even as these words go onto the page. I reminded myself several times yesterday afternoon to be present, to pay attention, to be in the moment, and I succeeded in doing that at least some of the time. It’s very hard to keep your mind from racing ahead.
You’ll be amazed to find out that I’m referencing a podcast today that’s not from Gretchen Rubin. My husband and I are huge fans of the Freakonomics franchise, the series of books and podcasts by the team of economist Steven Levitt and journalist Stephen Dubner who have made a career of challenging conventional wisdom about how markets and incentives actually work.
Really, folks, I don’t spent every waking minute reading blogs and immersing myself in the wonderful world of podcasts. I do have to remind myself, though, just as I used to remind myself about my book-reading habits, that sometimes taking in all this material from other people means that I’m not participating as fully as I might in my own life. That being said, I’ve greatly enjoyed getting into this whole new way to access a very old type of information, that of the spoken word. Instead of my just having the radio on to Colorado Public Radio and being forced to listen to whatever they’re droning on about, I get to choose my material to keep me company while I’m walking or cooking or cleaning.
What did we do in the kitchen? The floor was the first step, locking us in to certain future choices.
This is not a home decorating blog. Having such a blog is like having a food/recipe blog, for which the hapless blogger has to come up with new projects all the time. Hey, once I’m done, especially on the decorating front, I’m done. And while I’m a fan of new recipes, I’ll let others do the day-to-day work of developing them.
I have a separate blog called Intentional Hospitality, but my purpose in writing this post isn’t so much to give you recipes and timetables as to talk about a major source of happiness–and nervous breakdowns—in my life: throwing parties.
I have always liked to cook, going way back to my grade-school days. In fact, one of my fondest memories from about fourth grade is the time that my mom put me in charge of cooking dinner and I made everything from the
Ain’t that just the way it always is? You finally solve a problem after weeks or even longer of delay, but one little thing is still wrong. So what do you focus on? That one little thing, of course.
Yesterday morning the second set of carpet installers arrived and immediately showed that they knew what they were doing. I mentioned to the guy before I left that they needed to check all the thresholds, which he assured me he would do. Arriving home after a great morning of Bible study and fellowship, I allowed myself not one second of enjoyment before going to the kitchen threshold and checking to make sure it had been done.