We Are All Connected

With great relief I finished the Penguin Lives' book, Julia Child last night. Relief because I knew Julia had a pension for eating animals(she was the French Chef!), but I was amazed by her conscious disregard for them her entire life.  Towards the end of the book the author shares that Julia relished hacking up a whole chicken, timing herself while doing it, and with pragmatic glee would nail an eel to a board, so she could skin it more easily.  At this point I was reading with only one eye open and praying, hoping, assuming that the eel was not alive while this was taking place.   After reading the last page, I put the book down and marveled at Julia's unbelievable disconnect with other sentient beings.  Unintentionally, this book makes her seem like a barbarian and unlike other biographies that I have read and that have endeared me to the person more, this one makes me want to say "shame on you" to Julia when I stroll into heaven.

I picked the book up one day because Julia seemed like an interesting person and like Julia, I too have a passion for food even if we split at the fork in the road that divides carnivores and vegetarians (I must confess, I'm not 100% vegetarian.  Occasionally I go bonkers and need a little fish, but this may even change soon after I read the article my mother just gave me about Red Snappers and how clever they are).

Now, I'm not going to jam anything down anyone's throat—I did this enough in my early twenties as a vegan animal activist, alienating family during the holidays, and sporting, very often, my "I don't have any spare ribs" piggy peta t-shirt—but I just have to say that I'm totally astounded when people continue to liberally eat meat today knowing what we all know (or should know) about the horrific cruelty and greed of factory farming.  It is so wrong on so many levels and with the movies, Fast Food Nation and Food Inc. readily available, there is little room for excuse for not cutting back or cutting meat out of our diet all together.

Now, my husband loves meat and he's not alone, just watch the food channel for 20 minutes—meat, meat, meat—I love meat too, as a matter of fact, but its just that I prefer it intact on a live animal more than I want it on my plate.  My husband rescues sickly squirrels and other wildlife with me and we chase down stray dogs,  but he draws the line when it comes to his burgers and I am OK with it as long as we get the meat at our local, humanely raised, organic butcher (personally I think the "humane" part stops at the slaughter bit, but apparently there are more humane ways to do this part of the dirty work).

I actually prepare his meat for him and my vegan friends are astonished, but I've mellowed a bit as I have gotten older and I don't think this is a bad thing because I've noticed this mellowing has inspired more change in the ones around me than the angry vegan activist in me ever did.

What am I trying to say with all this?  It's as simple as the title says—we are all connected and this should be tucked closely to our hearts when we make decisions in our lives, from ordering the chicken salad to buying the bargain price shoes that perhaps a little girl assembled in Tawain.  Conscious choices make the world a better place and I'm going to strive to make more of them and I hope you do, too!

Forget the Grout and Sing with the Birds!

My sanity is being challenged these days...well, not really, but I like to be dramatic. I don't know about you, but I have a "to do list" that I need to start calling the "neverending-will-not-all-get-done-in-one-lifetime list." I have mountains of laundry, kitchen grout that needs to be scrubbed, letters that need to be written, yoga poses that need to be drawn and oh, yeah performed, and old relatives to visit before they die.

But as Spring starts to peek around the corner and I see buds appearing on the trees, I'm reminded of the beauty in this world and slowing down to enjoy it is key. But how, with my never-ending-to-do-list? Easy I say, just stop giving a hoot! I admit, I don't always achieve this state, but when I do a weight lifts off my shoulders and there's a spring in my step—who cares if the grout is grey? Who cares if I wear dirty socks?

I've also discovered invaluable timesavers. "Like with Like" and "Blender Soups." How many times do you look for something and cannot find it? I have saved myself hours by following one simple rule—keep everything together that is in the same category. Cameras go with albums and frames and camera straps and bags and photo corners. Mailing stuff from stamps to envelopes to pens to confetti to tape all go together. This might seem obvious to many of you (bravo for you!), but for me it was a lifesaver.

I also like to eat healthy, most of the time, but don't always like to cook, so I make blender soups. I bung everything from onions to kale to frozen lima beans to carrots into a pot of simmering water and bouillon cubes (Rapunzell are my favorite) and when the flavors have mingled and the veggies softened just a bit,  I whip it in the blender. To make the soup seem less naked, I lay a thinly sliced piece of toasted peasant bread on top. It is quite satisfying. And what makes it heaven for me is how quick it is to make—I can sloppily cut up all of my ingredients because at the end of cooking, the oddly shaped, tangled mess gets thrown into a blender and transforms into a fine puréed soup.

Happy Spring to everyone and please do ignore the dirty grout and get out in nature and sing with the birds!

"Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature's peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you and the storms their energy, while cares will drop off like autumn leaves."

—John Muir