So there's this crazy thing that I think I can do: it's called Whole30. I mean, if a girl can run a half marathon 11 times, she can cut out alcohol, grain, sugar, dairy, and legumes for 30 days right?
One can only hope.
This is based on a recommendation from several people for many reasons: it's an anti-inflammatory diet, which will help with my joint pain and back pain, it can help with my Hashimoto's and possibly hurry the balance of that damned organ, and it can help me figure out if I'm actually allergic to something without having to pay $500 for the test...to name a few of them.
Today, when first attempting to grocery shop for this crazy diet - as my start date is Sunday after my race and I want to make sure that I'm stocked and ready so there's no slips on day 1 - I was surprised at the fact that most deli meat, or at least the cheap stuff I'm used to buying, all has sugar in it. WTF? It's meat, right?
Sigh. Scratch that easy go-to off my list. I'm not paying $4.50 for half as much as I usually get for $3.99. Ask me again in week 2.
Apparently I'm gonna need to start eating eggs like it's my job to get the proteins and carbs I need with my exercise routine.
The intro to both the books I have in my possession regarding this diet start with "This is. Not. Hard." They go on to detail that giving birth is hard, coming back from Iraq missing a limb is hard, and dealing with a life-threatening, incurable disease is hard, but giving up sugar is not hard.
Okay, fine. I get it, not hard. But could they make the shopping for it easier? Thankssomuch.
I'll keep you updated on how things go. Also, I've signed up for NWM2015 in SF. And am 90% sure I'm going to do a marathon in September.
So much for only doing two races this year: race number one of three is on Saturday!
Ciao,
kc
Wednesday, June 24, 2015
Monday, June 15, 2015
We're Lost
One of the many things runners - long distance runners anyways - will grudgingly admit to, is that when your watch says .5 or .6 or .7...it's hard not to just finish that one last mile. Also, when we've committed to 12 miles, if we have managed to cover more than half the distance, we are now fully committed to a full 12 miles. 11.5 won't do, 11 miles isn't good enough, forget about 11.98, it ain't gonna happen. It's gotta be 12.
Saturday night, when everyone else was going to the Rodeo in Sisters, enjoying the last of the heat for the day, BBQ'ing and having fun, Jamie and I scheduled our big run for the day.
We have a half marathon in two weeks so this is the last "big" run until the race. We were supposed to end up doing 14 miles the day of my sister's wedding, but I was at my sister's wedding (duh) and Jamie thought running 14 miles was a terrible idea. I just wanted to see if I could do it. You know, a baby step towards the full I'm 90% sure I'm going to do in early September.
My new job is exactly 2 miles from Jamie's house, so to get my extra mileage in, I ran over to meet her. I was on board and idealistic for my 14 miler, and Jamie was solidly committed to 12 miles. Three miles in (so five for me), Jamie has an equipment crisis and we stand in the road considering calling her husband to come get her to fix it while I ran on and had her meet me down the road.
He was at least 20 minutes out.
"My work is just down the road, we could go there." I suggested. I had run the 2 miles to her house and then we turned around and retraced my steps: at this point we were a mile away from my work. "It's 20 minutes if we walk it, and if we can manage a jog it's less. We'd get there before he could get here."
"You're okay with that? I feel bad..." she said. I told her no worries, but I wasn't clocking anything we were walking for that mile. Breaks were one thing, walking that far on purpose is quite another. So we trekked the mile back to work, jogging when possible, but mostly walking.
Crisis averted, we turned around again. We decided to do an out and back, 4.5 miles out, turn around and run back to my car in the parking lot at work, where I would give her a ride back to her house.
Mile nine was the longest mile I've ever run in my life. It was never ending. We finally made it to the turnaround at mile ten (Jamie's mile 8) and practically cheered. Okay, we thought, four more miles and we're golden.
A mile and a half down the road we passed a turn off and had a brief argument.
"I thought we turned here?" I said.
"No, no, it's down the road," Jamie insisted.
"Should we get out the map on our phones?" I asked, unconvinced.
"No, I know exactly where we are. Collins [the road we're on] turns into Pinehurst [the road the distillery is on], we already made the turn." Jamie countered.
Dubious, but aware that my sense of direction is severely lacking, and knowing that my thyroid disorder has been giving me some very interesting short-term memory situations, I agreed and we ran on.
Three quarters of a mile later:
"Okay, Jamie, I definitely do not remember that flag," I said as we trotted past a huge, festive, bunting banner strung on a gate. "We are going the wrong way."
"I don't remember it either, but I'm pretty sure that's our turn off up there." She said, unconvincingly.
"No way," I disagreed and got the phone out. Sure enough, we had missed our turn. Going back would have taken longer at that point, so we continued on. We reached the 14 mile marker (her 12 mile marker) and we checked the map again. One mile to the distillery from where we were. Jamie wanted to call her husband to come get us, I bullied her into running the last mile.
"By the time he gets in the car and finds us, we could have just run the mile, between the traffic from the rodeo and the light," I pointed out, as it was now 9 PM and while not dark, it was definitely not light anymore. She agreed grudgingly.
I ran 15.03 miles on Saturday night. It took me 2 hours and 48 minutes, averaging an 11:14 mile. It's been two days and my knees are still killing me.
I can't wait to do it again.
Ciao,
kc
Saturday night, when everyone else was going to the Rodeo in Sisters, enjoying the last of the heat for the day, BBQ'ing and having fun, Jamie and I scheduled our big run for the day.
We have a half marathon in two weeks so this is the last "big" run until the race. We were supposed to end up doing 14 miles the day of my sister's wedding, but I was at my sister's wedding (duh) and Jamie thought running 14 miles was a terrible idea. I just wanted to see if I could do it. You know, a baby step towards the full I'm 90% sure I'm going to do in early September.
My new job is exactly 2 miles from Jamie's house, so to get my extra mileage in, I ran over to meet her. I was on board and idealistic for my 14 miler, and Jamie was solidly committed to 12 miles. Three miles in (so five for me), Jamie has an equipment crisis and we stand in the road considering calling her husband to come get her to fix it while I ran on and had her meet me down the road.
He was at least 20 minutes out.
"My work is just down the road, we could go there." I suggested. I had run the 2 miles to her house and then we turned around and retraced my steps: at this point we were a mile away from my work. "It's 20 minutes if we walk it, and if we can manage a jog it's less. We'd get there before he could get here."
"You're okay with that? I feel bad..." she said. I told her no worries, but I wasn't clocking anything we were walking for that mile. Breaks were one thing, walking that far on purpose is quite another. So we trekked the mile back to work, jogging when possible, but mostly walking.
Crisis averted, we turned around again. We decided to do an out and back, 4.5 miles out, turn around and run back to my car in the parking lot at work, where I would give her a ride back to her house.
Mile nine was the longest mile I've ever run in my life. It was never ending. We finally made it to the turnaround at mile ten (Jamie's mile 8) and practically cheered. Okay, we thought, four more miles and we're golden.
A mile and a half down the road we passed a turn off and had a brief argument.
"I thought we turned here?" I said.
"No, no, it's down the road," Jamie insisted.
"Should we get out the map on our phones?" I asked, unconvinced.
"No, I know exactly where we are. Collins [the road we're on] turns into Pinehurst [the road the distillery is on], we already made the turn." Jamie countered.
Dubious, but aware that my sense of direction is severely lacking, and knowing that my thyroid disorder has been giving me some very interesting short-term memory situations, I agreed and we ran on.
Three quarters of a mile later:
"Okay, Jamie, I definitely do not remember that flag," I said as we trotted past a huge, festive, bunting banner strung on a gate. "We are going the wrong way."
"I don't remember it either, but I'm pretty sure that's our turn off up there." She said, unconvincingly.
"No way," I disagreed and got the phone out. Sure enough, we had missed our turn. Going back would have taken longer at that point, so we continued on. We reached the 14 mile marker (her 12 mile marker) and we checked the map again. One mile to the distillery from where we were. Jamie wanted to call her husband to come get us, I bullied her into running the last mile.
"By the time he gets in the car and finds us, we could have just run the mile, between the traffic from the rodeo and the light," I pointed out, as it was now 9 PM and while not dark, it was definitely not light anymore. She agreed grudgingly.
I ran 15.03 miles on Saturday night. It took me 2 hours and 48 minutes, averaging an 11:14 mile. It's been two days and my knees are still killing me.
I can't wait to do it again.
Ciao,
kc
Sunday, June 14, 2015
Since January
So I'm pretty sure this has officially been the longest hiatus from blogging that I've ever done. And for that, I'm sorry.
Not that more than one or two people read my words or look at what I've said, but still. Sorry.
It's been a long six months.
I was diagnosed with a thyroid autoimmune disorder Hashimodo's in February, and the exhaustion, stress, and subsequent doctor's visits with that have made the very-real fatigue symptom that accompanies this disorder that much harder.
I finally said, "Uncle" with my job at the vineyard, which while I was loving the work, was eating me alive. Since leaving, that position has been split into two full time positions, rather than just one person that it had been (me). Granted, I had been lobbying for that second body since about January, having recognized the need, and my boss had finally found someone she felt was qualified who was interested in the position the week before I put in my notice, but still. That tells you how much I was working! Don't get me wrong though, I loved the job, but when I was offered a job at a local distillery, 30 minutes closer to home, with better pay, I couldn't help but say yes.
And running.
Oh the angst.
You would think that I would have learned to be kinder to myself with the back injury situation and subsequent recovery time. Remember all of those flowery posts about how wonderful it was to be able to run at all?
Ha.
Back to the mindset of "if I'm not doing it all, I'm failing at life."
A friend recently suggested that I work on changing my frame of mind. Instead of mentally berating myself, and/or having to grant myself "permission" to take a day off from go-go-go, I should instead celebrate what I did manage to get done.
For example: on Wednesday, my back was acting up and I was just tired. We had been in California for my sister's wedding for a week, with much travel involved, as we had done a quick trip to SF for a Giants game before heading up the coast to Arcata. We drove back late Sunday night and then I worked (hard) all day Monday and Tuesday. So Wednesday, I was justifiably tired. So I gave myself "permission" to skip my run that day, and then mentally agonized and felt guilty all day at how slothful and lazy I was and should have just gone.
Except I still managed to walk the dog. Go grocery shopping. Finish the laundry. Contact several clients and finish sketches for several contracts for Chalked. Mow the lawn. Clean the house.
I wasn't exactly lying around.
I'm sure exercise guilt is a cultural phenomenon, especially with the rise of "fitspiration," crossfit, and paleo. But I didn't realize how bad it had gotten in myself until my friend pointed it out.
"You had a full, productive day, and on top of your thyroid issues, travel-weariness and general 'it's my weekend' mode, you still managed to get a bunch of physical stuff done. There's nothing you should be 'giving yourself a break' about. Instead, recognize that it's okay to take a day off from running and working out if you're legitimately tired and recognize that you still managed to do all of these other things. Hell, sometimes getting out of bed in the morning is a victory."
So now I am going to try to focus - and use this blog to help me focus - on the things I've accomplished. Including exercise, eating, my business, etc. But even on the days where I should get a standing ovation for making it out of bed, I will make an effort to recognize that.
Wish me luck.
Ciao,
kc
Not that more than one or two people read my words or look at what I've said, but still. Sorry.
It's been a long six months.
I was diagnosed with a thyroid autoimmune disorder Hashimodo's in February, and the exhaustion, stress, and subsequent doctor's visits with that have made the very-real fatigue symptom that accompanies this disorder that much harder.
I finally said, "Uncle" with my job at the vineyard, which while I was loving the work, was eating me alive. Since leaving, that position has been split into two full time positions, rather than just one person that it had been (me). Granted, I had been lobbying for that second body since about January, having recognized the need, and my boss had finally found someone she felt was qualified who was interested in the position the week before I put in my notice, but still. That tells you how much I was working! Don't get me wrong though, I loved the job, but when I was offered a job at a local distillery, 30 minutes closer to home, with better pay, I couldn't help but say yes.
And running.
Oh the angst.
You would think that I would have learned to be kinder to myself with the back injury situation and subsequent recovery time. Remember all of those flowery posts about how wonderful it was to be able to run at all?
Ha.
Back to the mindset of "if I'm not doing it all, I'm failing at life."
A friend recently suggested that I work on changing my frame of mind. Instead of mentally berating myself, and/or having to grant myself "permission" to take a day off from go-go-go, I should instead celebrate what I did manage to get done.
For example: on Wednesday, my back was acting up and I was just tired. We had been in California for my sister's wedding for a week, with much travel involved, as we had done a quick trip to SF for a Giants game before heading up the coast to Arcata. We drove back late Sunday night and then I worked (hard) all day Monday and Tuesday. So Wednesday, I was justifiably tired. So I gave myself "permission" to skip my run that day, and then mentally agonized and felt guilty all day at how slothful and lazy I was and should have just gone.
Except I still managed to walk the dog. Go grocery shopping. Finish the laundry. Contact several clients and finish sketches for several contracts for Chalked. Mow the lawn. Clean the house.
I wasn't exactly lying around.
I'm sure exercise guilt is a cultural phenomenon, especially with the rise of "fitspiration," crossfit, and paleo. But I didn't realize how bad it had gotten in myself until my friend pointed it out.
"You had a full, productive day, and on top of your thyroid issues, travel-weariness and general 'it's my weekend' mode, you still managed to get a bunch of physical stuff done. There's nothing you should be 'giving yourself a break' about. Instead, recognize that it's okay to take a day off from running and working out if you're legitimately tired and recognize that you still managed to do all of these other things. Hell, sometimes getting out of bed in the morning is a victory."
So now I am going to try to focus - and use this blog to help me focus - on the things I've accomplished. Including exercise, eating, my business, etc. But even on the days where I should get a standing ovation for making it out of bed, I will make an effort to recognize that.
Wish me luck.
Ciao,
kc
Friday, January 9, 2015
Empowerment
With the New Year, and encouragement from new friends like my friend Taran, and from old friends like my friend Katie who runs Thrive Bend, I am making a conscious effort to recognize moments in my life that I feel empowered.
You know, that delicious rush of "I got this." Adrenaline, warm tummy, full heart.
I've been surprised so far and would like to share a couple with you:
"Today I feel empowered because I stopped by the college to pick up a really really nice letter of recommendation and Jo at the front desk said it was great to see me and that I looked great.
Feel confident and empowered leaving Kinko's because I got several tasks done and a couple that I had been unsure about taken care of easily.
And I'm wearing my taking care of business boots and that always helps."
And...
"Today I felt empowered because I paid several bills and paid down the credit card. And Tyler and I worked a little harder than usual so I was able to even put a little away.
Getting organized in the morning and revisiting what needs to get done relaxes me and makes me feel confident and empowered. Like I can handle today."
It's not always the big achievements in life that make us feel empowered, and it's important to focus on the the things that make us happy and confident.
A recent fellow blogger encouraged us to "be kind to ourselves." This is a more challenging task than most people realize, especially for those of us for whom self-kindness comes less naturally than self-criticism. It is natural human instinct to self-criticize...there is truth to the statement "we are our own worst critics." But self-kindness must come hand in hand with that.
Recognize, the next time you look at a friend who you think is the best, most brilliant, most kind person in the world and consider that she might be a victim of constant self-criticism and severe lack of self-kindness. Make today random-acts-of-compliments day. Heck, make every day that, and make sure that when the thought occurs to you that hey, that person rocks, let them know.
You might change their heart that day.
You might make them feel empowered.
In case you didn't notice, we're going a little more introspective these days. Hope you enjoy it.
Ciao,
kc
P.S. It's almost running season! Thinking about a FULL marathon this year...thoughts?
You know, that delicious rush of "I got this." Adrenaline, warm tummy, full heart.
I've been surprised so far and would like to share a couple with you:
"Today I feel empowered because I stopped by the college to pick up a really really nice letter of recommendation and Jo at the front desk said it was great to see me and that I looked great.
Feel confident and empowered leaving Kinko's because I got several tasks done and a couple that I had been unsure about taken care of easily.
And I'm wearing my taking care of business boots and that always helps."
And...
"Today I felt empowered because I paid several bills and paid down the credit card. And Tyler and I worked a little harder than usual so I was able to even put a little away.
Getting organized in the morning and revisiting what needs to get done relaxes me and makes me feel confident and empowered. Like I can handle today."
It's not always the big achievements in life that make us feel empowered, and it's important to focus on the the things that make us happy and confident.
A recent fellow blogger encouraged us to "be kind to ourselves." This is a more challenging task than most people realize, especially for those of us for whom self-kindness comes less naturally than self-criticism. It is natural human instinct to self-criticize...there is truth to the statement "we are our own worst critics." But self-kindness must come hand in hand with that.
Recognize, the next time you look at a friend who you think is the best, most brilliant, most kind person in the world and consider that she might be a victim of constant self-criticism and severe lack of self-kindness. Make today random-acts-of-compliments day. Heck, make every day that, and make sure that when the thought occurs to you that hey, that person rocks, let them know.
You might change their heart that day.
You might make them feel empowered.
In case you didn't notice, we're going a little more introspective these days. Hope you enjoy it.
Ciao,
kc
P.S. It's almost running season! Thinking about a FULL marathon this year...thoughts?
Monday, December 29, 2014
New Goals
As the new year approaches again, I take time to pause and consider. A lot has happened this year. Good things, really terrible things that made me feel small, insignificant and sad, and middling things. From the outside I accomplished a lot: finishing my MBA, running three half marathons, surviving a summer with barely seeing my husband, making it through the first year of marriage, starting a small business, changing jobs...
Internally there's a lot of work that needs to be done.
But it's a new year, and my focus needs to be doing things that make me happy, that benefit myself and my family, and finding my center again. I've felt off-balance for quite a while, and with the New Year I intend to re-focus and re-discover what I need to be doing.
I already proved that "The Doctor Said I'm Never Running Again" wasn't true (and at the same time proved to myself that I'm not what I used to be in terms of not being able to do three half marathons without putting myself through unnecessary pain...), I've left the job that I never wanted in the first place, and left behind the job that I thought would be my saving grace from that other job, and now I'm in a place where I can do what I need to do to be happy.
I need to remind myself what that looks like.
So this year, that's what I'm doing.
Oh, and work on posting more often.
Internally there's a lot of work that needs to be done.
But it's a new year, and my focus needs to be doing things that make me happy, that benefit myself and my family, and finding my center again. I've felt off-balance for quite a while, and with the New Year I intend to re-focus and re-discover what I need to be doing.
I already proved that "The Doctor Said I'm Never Running Again" wasn't true (and at the same time proved to myself that I'm not what I used to be in terms of not being able to do three half marathons without putting myself through unnecessary pain...), I've left the job that I never wanted in the first place, and left behind the job that I thought would be my saving grace from that other job, and now I'm in a place where I can do what I need to do to be happy.
I need to remind myself what that looks like.
So this year, that's what I'm doing.
Oh, and work on posting more often.
Saturday, December 27, 2014
Time
There are always little points in your life that you can point to and be like "There! That was what I was supposed to do!" Staying with the man who eventually became my husband when our relationship was new, long-distance, and stressful was one of those moments for me. Every time I went to turn away something deep and instinctual went "Nope, sorry, honey. I know it's not the easier route, but this is what you're supposed to do."
Turns out that voice was right.
I expected to have that sort of "come to Jesus" moment when I quit Verizon or when I moved to Bend or really a variety of other things. Were they bad decisions? No, they just didn't have that primordial affirmation that yes, this is right. I believe in a higher power that rarely interferes but will intervene when the choice you are trying to make will affect something bigger and more important.
Maybe my marriage was that bigger thing, maybe not, but I love that I have such a wonderful, affirming man in my life who truly believes that I deserve the world -- even on days when I'm a whiny, bitchy, nagging pain in the ass. Damn it, now I'm welling up.
I had that moment recently, though. And the affirmations of it since then. So we will see where it leads us.
On a Thursday morning in August, I'd had it up to here with a job that I had grabbed like a lifeline to sanity seven months ago. It had brought me peace, better hours, and more time with those I love. It also brought me to a place where I understood that it's okay to want to be doing something you at least like most of the time, as freelance work took me more and more away from being mentally present at the job I was holding like a good little nine-to-fiver. A not-so-unusually-critical day prior, with minor meltdowns from people who should know better and the first respectful, adult conversation I'd had about the job since I started the job made me go, "Wait. Why am I here?"
That stupid voice on the inside nodded sagely.
I sent a text to my husband, asking how he would feel if I told them "So long and thanks for all the fish" and went to California for a long weekend.
"Do it, it doesn't affect me," he said.
"I don't think you read that message properly," I replied, after calming my pounding heart and trying to figure out if he was serious. "I'm asking if you would be okay if I quit my job."
The man replied with a quote from an email I sent him recently about feeling trapped in a box of what I was "supposed" to be doing with my life and that I wanted for once to be irresponsible, take the leap and quit my job and face the world on the strength of knowing I will survive.
His next question was "If not now, then when?"
It's really annoying/wonderful/frustrating/amazing when my inner voice and my husband agree on things that I can't make up my mind about. I put in my notice the next day and it felt right. Then, I got sent home immediately after giving my two weeks in a "that's nice, too bad" sort of gesture, which added a brick of guilt to my heart. Like I had maybe done something wrong, not tried hard enough, not been good enough.
I received a couple phone calls in the week following as I fled to San Luis Obispo for sun, relaxation, and visiting with friends I never get to see asking me to consider returning to the job. That added to the guilt and pressure and even though that deep, internal voice kept whispering, I became unsure.
And then like a gift from God, I received a phone call from a client I had given up on who wanted to send me a check for a deposit for a job.
I knew in that moment that I needed to follow what was in the process of hitting me over the head. Since then, I've found a job at a winery that lends me flexible hours, a sense of family, a calm for my panic-button-ohmygodI'mnotmakinganymoneywhatwillIdohowwillwesurvivewe'regonnabehomeless moments (because having a job that you can just go, okay, this week I'm gonna work a little extra and make a couple more bucks is really a nice feature, especially when you're finding out that entrepreneurial stuff is far from stable...which we knew...we just didn't...know), and I've found a little piece of happiness.
For the first time in my life I get excited to talk about what I do for a living.
For the first time in my life my only complaint about work is that while my boss is wonderful, understanding, sweet, respectful, and interested in what we have to say, her sense of organization is a tad different from mine and that overwhelms me some days.
No yelling, no throwing phones, no saying I'm wrong or don't know what I'm talking about, no one telling me I'm doing it wrong and then repeating back to me what I just said as the right way to do something, no long hours...
It's fantastic.
Besides:
And:
What's not to like?
Turns out that voice was right.
I expected to have that sort of "come to Jesus" moment when I quit Verizon or when I moved to Bend or really a variety of other things. Were they bad decisions? No, they just didn't have that primordial affirmation that yes, this is right. I believe in a higher power that rarely interferes but will intervene when the choice you are trying to make will affect something bigger and more important.
Maybe my marriage was that bigger thing, maybe not, but I love that I have such a wonderful, affirming man in my life who truly believes that I deserve the world -- even on days when I'm a whiny, bitchy, nagging pain in the ass. Damn it, now I'm welling up.
I had that moment recently, though. And the affirmations of it since then. So we will see where it leads us.
On a Thursday morning in August, I'd had it up to here with a job that I had grabbed like a lifeline to sanity seven months ago. It had brought me peace, better hours, and more time with those I love. It also brought me to a place where I understood that it's okay to want to be doing something you at least like most of the time, as freelance work took me more and more away from being mentally present at the job I was holding like a good little nine-to-fiver. A not-so-unusually-critical day prior, with minor meltdowns from people who should know better and the first respectful, adult conversation I'd had about the job since I started the job made me go, "Wait. Why am I here?"
That stupid voice on the inside nodded sagely.
I sent a text to my husband, asking how he would feel if I told them "So long and thanks for all the fish" and went to California for a long weekend.
"Do it, it doesn't affect me," he said.
"I don't think you read that message properly," I replied, after calming my pounding heart and trying to figure out if he was serious. "I'm asking if you would be okay if I quit my job."
The man replied with a quote from an email I sent him recently about feeling trapped in a box of what I was "supposed" to be doing with my life and that I wanted for once to be irresponsible, take the leap and quit my job and face the world on the strength of knowing I will survive.
His next question was "If not now, then when?"
It's really annoying/wonderful/frustrating/amazing when my inner voice and my husband agree on things that I can't make up my mind about. I put in my notice the next day and it felt right. Then, I got sent home immediately after giving my two weeks in a "that's nice, too bad" sort of gesture, which added a brick of guilt to my heart. Like I had maybe done something wrong, not tried hard enough, not been good enough.
I received a couple phone calls in the week following as I fled to San Luis Obispo for sun, relaxation, and visiting with friends I never get to see asking me to consider returning to the job. That added to the guilt and pressure and even though that deep, internal voice kept whispering, I became unsure.
And then like a gift from God, I received a phone call from a client I had given up on who wanted to send me a check for a deposit for a job.
I knew in that moment that I needed to follow what was in the process of hitting me over the head. Since then, I've found a job at a winery that lends me flexible hours, a sense of family, a calm for my panic-button-ohmygodI'mnotmakinganymoneywhatwillIdohowwillwesurvivewe'regonnabehomeless moments (because having a job that you can just go, okay, this week I'm gonna work a little extra and make a couple more bucks is really a nice feature, especially when you're finding out that entrepreneurial stuff is far from stable...which we knew...we just didn't...know), and I've found a little piece of happiness.
For the first time in my life I get excited to talk about what I do for a living.
For the first time in my life my only complaint about work is that while my boss is wonderful, understanding, sweet, respectful, and interested in what we have to say, her sense of organization is a tad different from mine and that overwhelms me some days.
No yelling, no throwing phones, no saying I'm wrong or don't know what I'm talking about, no one telling me I'm doing it wrong and then repeating back to me what I just said as the right way to do something, no long hours...
It's fantastic.
Besides:
And:
What's not to like?
Monday, June 30, 2014
Beer is Proof that God Loves Us
Many would postulate that "beer is proof that God loves us." Now I don't know if that's true, but having a husband who likes a good cold one and living in...well...Bend, one has to think that there is some validity to the whole thing. (Bend has more breweries per capita than anywhere else...)
So for Tyler's birthday, when he sweetly told me, "I want you to bake whatever cupcakes make you happy," I turned to good ol' Pinterest to find something manly and acceptable for summertime.
The original recipe used either Blue Moon or Corona (with the appropriate citrus additions for each), but being a true Bendite, I quickly realized that I had no business baking beer cupcakes if it didn't involve local brew. I love Deschutes Brewery's seasonal additions of Twilight Summer Ale and River Ale, but while my favorite, River Ale, doesn't lend itself (at least to my perspective) to a dash of orange or lime, I thought Twilight would be delicious with a little citrus.
Twilight Summer Ale Cupcakes
Ingredients for the cupcakes:
3/4 c butter at room temp
1 3/4 c sugar
2 1/2 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp orange zest (if you use Corona use lime zest)
1 c Twilight Summer Ale (or brew of choice that pairs well with orange or lime citrus)
1/4 c milk
Do as us Bendites do and pair with a delicious local beer! Enjoy!
Ciao,
kc
So for Tyler's birthday, when he sweetly told me, "I want you to bake whatever cupcakes make you happy," I turned to good ol' Pinterest to find something manly and acceptable for summertime.
The original recipe used either Blue Moon or Corona (with the appropriate citrus additions for each), but being a true Bendite, I quickly realized that I had no business baking beer cupcakes if it didn't involve local brew. I love Deschutes Brewery's seasonal additions of Twilight Summer Ale and River Ale, but while my favorite, River Ale, doesn't lend itself (at least to my perspective) to a dash of orange or lime, I thought Twilight would be delicious with a little citrus.
They turned out spectacularly light and fluffy like a champagne cake, with a little caramelization (as said by one of Tyler's friends) on top from the brushed on-while-hot beer. The orange flavoring pretty much overwhelmed any beer taste for those who don't love beer, but for connoisseurs (not me) there were enough lingering hints to be decidedly thrilled.
Twilight Summer Ale Cupcakes
Ingredients for the cupcakes:
3/4 c butter at room temp
1 3/4 c sugar
2 1/2 c flour
2 tsp baking powder
1/2 tsp salt
3 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1/2 tsp orange zest (if you use Corona use lime zest)
1 c Twilight Summer Ale (or brew of choice that pairs well with orange or lime citrus)
1/4 c milk
Directions
Preheat
oven to 375 degrees and line 24 muffin tins with cupcake liners.–In a
medium-sized bowl, whisk together flour, baking powder, and salt.–In the bowl
of an electric mixer, beat together the butter and sugar until light and
fluffy, about 2-3 minutes.–Add eggs, beating after each addition then add the
vanilla and zest.–Combine milk and beer and alternatively add this mixture and
the flour mixture to the butter/sugar mixture with the mixer on low speed,
starting and ending with the flour.–Fill the cupcake liners 2/3 full and bake
for 18 minutes, or until cake tester comes out clean.–When cupcakes are done,
poke holes in the tops of the cupcakes with toothpicks and brush some beer on
each while still warm.
Ingredients for the citrus cream cheese frosting:
12 oz cream cheese, cold
6 tbsp butter, room temp
1 tbsp freshly squeezed orange or lime juice
1 tsp orange or lime zest
4 c powdered sugar
Directions:
Cream
together the cream cheese and butter in an electric mixer until smooth and
creamy, about 2-3 minutes. Add the citrus juice and zest and gradually add the
powdered sugar until well-combined. Beat until smooth for about 2 minutes. Load
frosting in a piping bag fit with a large star tip and pipe cupcake tops once
cooled.
I had a small runny-ness issue with the frosting, but my cream cheese was almost room temp. I just added more powdered sugar and a tad more butter and it resolved the issue nicely. You could also chill it slightly if it is too runny out of the gate.
Recipe yields 24 cupcakes.
Do as us Bendites do and pair with a delicious local beer! Enjoy!
Ciao,
kc
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