Saturday Smoobie

I’m not going to post pictures of my smoothies.  Unless there are berries involved, due to the hemp protein, they’re all basically the same color: ugh.

The deliciousity of the morning involves, once again,

• Blender
• Mug
• Straw

As for edibles:

• Large handful(s) of ripe cantaloupe
• A banana
• 1/8 cup hemp protein, unless you’re brave/sick enough for the whole 1/4 cup
• Handful of ice cubes – about 6 – 8

Ah!  Refreshing and invigorating.  The sweet nectar-like quality of ripe cantaloupe almost masks the texture of the protein.  However, this key green ingredient cannot be left out, lest you shrivel and die due to malnutrition.  And blame me for misguiding your eating habits.  One cannot be vegan simply by removing animal products.  Animal proteins must be replaced with plant proteins.  Also, you can’t be truly crunchy if you allow white flours and sugar in your dwelling place.  Milling your own wheat is essential to the balanced diet of the tree-hugging, daily-pooping granola people.  And Agave Nectar is, well, the nectar of the gods.  Also, if you have family who keep bees, you’re in luck.  And flax seed is good for you.  Sometimes I coffee-grind it and put it in my smoothies.  Warning: it must be a banana-rich concoction to cope with the added healthy texture.

Vegan Broccoli Soup

I’m not even gonna give you the original recipe because I did it so differently.  For one thing, I made it a CrockPot meal.  And none of this peeling the broccoli business.

Best guess: serves about 6.  I have kids…  Mine loved this, by the way.

I am not a good food-photographer.

Place broccoli & herbs into stock and bring to a boil. Reduce heat & simmer until tender enough to put into blender.  This step was totally a CrockPot step for me.  

• 6 – 8 cups of broccoli.  I snuck some carrots and cauliflower into mine.  And frozen from Sam’s is fine.  6 cups if you want thinner soup and more if you like thicker, chunkier sustenance.
• 4 cups unsalted vegetable stock
• 1/2 cup loose chopped parsley
• 1/2 tsp powdered or crushed dried rosemary
• 1 tsp dried powdered or crushed dried thyme
• I also added some fresh basil leaves from my window box.

Peel and crush garlic cloves, dice onion. Sauté on medium heat in oil for 10 minutes then add to broccoli mixture.

• 2 tsp olive oil (or whatever you prefer to sauté with, I believe I used safflower)
• 1 – 2 cloves garlic, crushed
• 1/4 cup diced yellow onion

Place broccoli and all that other jazz into the blender
(in portions so as not to overburden your appliances).

Pour back into CrockPot.

Heat the olive oil in a pan. Add the flour and cook on low for ten minutes.  Stir in rice milk or almond milk with a whisk, bring to a boil then simmer till thickened, stirring constantly with the whisk otherwise your sauce will be lumpy. 

• 2 Tbsp flour ( I doubled the flour [4 Tbsp] since I was using home milled wheat flour)
• 2 cups unsweetened rice milk or unsweetened plain almond milk
• Salt & pepper to taste.
• Whatever other herbs and/or spices you feel like adding.

Mix into broccoli mixture and set on low till dinnertime.  You may need to vent the lid a tad to let the steam escape.  It all depends on how thick you want your soup.  

vegan broccoli soup

Click the picture, find the recipe.

Save the cheerleader, save the world.

That Weird Smoothie

tastes different than it looks

So I mentioned that I drink weirdness in a mug.  It’s how I maintain my reputation.  Of being an odd person.

• Blender
• Mug
• Straw
• 1/2 – 3/4 cup almond milk
• 2 bananas
• 1/8 cup (2 TBSP) hemp protein
• handful of raisins
• handful of ice cubes

I’m really supposed to be using 1/4 cup of hemp protein but I can’t handle the texture of it so I figure that half the suggested dose is better than none at all.  Coconut milk is a valid substitute for the almond milk.  And the point of this smoothie is vegan, so don’t even try to use cow milk.  Or sugar.  The sweetness will kick you into the next decade.  It’s already super sweet.    If you really want to be awesome, you could grind flax seeds in a coffee grinder and put them in.  But I didn’t feel like being awesome today.  Just great.  Or amazing.  Next time I’m going to try adding peanut butter.

}sharK`Week<

I’ve mentioned my mad, passionate love affair with Pinterest.  Have I not?

A friend who shall remain pinonymous pinned a post comparing the similarities of the shark brain with female plumbing in visual format.  Though it would be infinitely fun for me to insert said pictorial comparison for you, the more sensitive portion of my audience mayhap be offended.  So you shall be forced to Google the image on your own.  Or use your imagination.

Now that your senses have been adequately assaulted, you need to know that Red Ribbon Week, Aunt Flo’s visit, Female Hormone Awareness Week, Men Hide the Sharp Objects, 7-Day Chocolate Binge, etc, has now been dubbed ‘Shark Week’ by my pinonymous fellow pinner.  I follow suit.

We were made in the image of God.  Areas of this Image in humanity have been corrupted, flawed, stained, disproportioned, unenchanted, and marred.  By sin, by Satan, by us, and by our parents.  Yes, I went there.  Yet still, under the debris, an outline of what was to be is visible.  Sometimes it takes tragedy, therapy, and multiple unemployments to unearth a trace.  Unchanged is the fact that I was created by Him and bits of Him are in my image as a result.

I have been fighting a nearly-paralyzing mental battle.  In my mind.  Of course.  Though possibly also with my heart and my plumbing.  My current non-pregnant state is the longest span of time since Jim and I were wed that I have gone without growing a tiny human.  Molly will be 17 months on the 2nd of August.  By this point in the infant lives of my other 2 wonder-toddlers, another child had supplanted him/her as the ‘baby’ in the family.  Metaphorically, of course, since they were all babies.  At the same time.

The battle: my body seems to want to be pregnant.  Desperately.  With a fury that makes my conscious mind question its own validity.  You see, my rationale tells me that it’s a really good idea to enjoy the 3 children I accidentally and blessedly have.  To spend time with them without the energy-sapping of another gestation.  To get to know the ones who currently outnumber the parentals before they realize they outnumber.  Perhaps even get a year of homeschooling under my decorative belt.

My female-of-the-species hormones plead with me almost daily to make additional tiny, and almost inevitably emotionally damaged, people.  I may very well be losing it.  Not the battle, but the little that is left of my conscious mind, and my subconscious, disturbed as it is, vies for control.  I need to get back to counselling, yo.

Eventually I would love to have another kid.  At least one.  Ahem.  But the time is not now.  To be a good mother and tolerable wife, this postponement  is a necessity.  While my uterus weeps.  So, to cope, I keep well hydrated and I beseech God for the wisdom to understand the desperate longing.

I also love to craft.  I also have barely the time and the space for this pursuit.

Image of God, readers.  Image of God.  Apparently one of the little pieces given to me is a love of creating.  People.  Hairdos.  Apparel.  Not food.  More humans.  Style.  Drama.  Ahem.  Decor.  And trouble.  O, and the intermittent literary contribution.

So, I divert my attention from wanting a baby to creating things that don’t require medical insurance and a college fund.  Or that drain my mental powers.  Creating makes me feel whole, complete.  It would appear that my inner turmoil is not a mental defect, but my spirit and mind trying to balance my daily life with something God built in me with a purpose of His own.

I am trying to make a little space in my life for creating.  I very literally created a space.  With a desk and sewing table.  And some Rubbermaids.  In the corner of my bedroom.

Shark Week did not air as scheduled this month.  Maybe the self-imposed 57 1/2 hour fast I endured has reset my biological timepiece.  Whatever happened, I supposed I could be pregnant.  Parts of me dueled for precedence:  Elation.  Concern.  Trepidation.  Bliss.  Worry.  Confusion.  Not equal parts, mind you, since each half of the equation gained ground with each consecutive moment.  And then I was hit by a bus.  That is, we have “returned to regular programming after these messages”.  Sad, relieved, excited, and pensive.  All that.  But not a bucket of chicken.  Chicken’s not vegan.

So I blog.  And at naptime I will dig out some unfinished craft projects.  Since in my mental state of the past 3 days, I have energetically caught up on several household chores.

The answer looks to be balance.

Desire & Reality.

Want & Need.

Gift & Responsibility.

Kids & Crafts.

Regular Programming & Special Bulletins.

~~~~~~~~~~

This message brought to you by the surprisingly delicious Banana/Almond-milk/Raisin/Hemp-protein Smoothie.

And by Midol.  

Ahem.

My head is aching.

But you really need to see what I made last night for my little sister who is going to Peru tomorrow for 10 days with a bunch of churches to do mission work.  

lovely, ain’t she?

Who doesn’t love a great hat?

button it, kid!

topsy

very topsy

cute-slice

for the love of cuteness!

tuck, pleat, gather

I love your face, KyCry!

ugh

my throat feels scratchy today and i have a cold sore growing on my lip.

how many things can i hang on my pocket?

so i’m planning this kid’s lightning mcqueen party for sept. 3rd.

make a wish…

I rarely use the same type of mascara twice.

At least not 2x consecutively.

I may return to one I previously used, but not frequently.

It’s like hair color: there are so many new things to try.

untruly mine

the Falsies Volum’ Express, Flared

My currently auditioning cosmetic.

Thus far: ❤…

There is nothing wrong with looking like you’ve attached your eyelashes.

I can’t ♪ ♫ ♩ ♬ next to Jim.

huh, babe?

No really.  I can’t.  I have a weak sense of melody and he’s, um, musically impaired.  He can barely even play the radio: it ends up on talk shows.

In other news, Modern Family is hilarious.  I’m married to Phil Dunphy.  Without being as cute as Claire.  There are very few shows Jim and I can watch together.  Imagine my surprise when we sat through a few episodes AT THE SAME TIME, multiple nights in a row.  Which has a chance to happen recently since Jim’s hotel hours are less consuming.  We might even be able to get reacquainted.  All that having kids really immediately, and there being a whole frakking lot of them almost the same age takes a toll on a relationship, let alone friendship, not to mention marriage.  It’s a wonder he’s still with me.  There are plenty of less crazy, cuter chicks in the sea.  But they’re mermaids and he wouldn’t understand them either.  And he’s not really into scales.

I’m not either.  They tell me things that I want to hear, but don’t like to see.  After that fast I did, the scale made me happy.  Dressing did not.  Maybe if I do some Pilates my middle will get smaller.  And less like a horizontal Frisbee on stilts.  Not kidding, readers.  Suffice it to say that cabooses aren’t supposed to be invisible and drink ware should hold more ounces.  My elliptical, fortunately, has cup holders.  I need those bad boys.  To hold up my laptop.  My laptop gives me Battlestar Galactica.  Which helps me work out.

So my husband won’t leave me for undersea folk.

Wait, I take that back: I’m Ursula enough for him.

Right, honey?

I dyed my hair red just in case…

my husband ❤’s documentaries

Moo

I been gone a long time, huh, folks?  I been busy with my life.  I bet none of you know what that’s like, do you?  Ha!

I been busy quitting my job.  And being full time at my other job: mommying.  O, it’s so a word, yo!  I been busy detoxing from undieting in SoCal with the out in-laws.  My poor, battered, steak-fed body was buffeting my scattered, fragile, vegan-longing mind.  (Disclaimer: I still use deodorant and toothpaste, neither of which are Tom’s of Maine.)  This healthy, from-scratch deal is a little timey and brainy starting out.  But it feels so good!  I am apparently becoming un-allergic to some things because my insides are cleaner.  Which is good because I am fed up with allergies.  Actually, that was the problem; I was unable to be fed up with them.  I so funny!    ahem…

Howevs, despite switching back to my rabbit-esque eating habits, I felt icky.  Believe me, icky is the word for it!  And sluggish.  As well as, unable to keep thoughts in my head.  Or handle the simplest of situations with any modicum of emotional rationality.  Which I had determined through the preceding months’ culinary experimentation as being symptoms of processed food and flour & sugar of the white persuasion.

Apparently, fasting is good for your liver.  48 hours minimum and no more than 72.  If you can handle it (and you have someone to help you parent your small ones for the 2 days since the less energy expenditure required, the less cranky and/or prone to fainting you will be) the benefits are, well, energizing.

he loves... and i love him

So, I embarked on the no-food, clear-unsweetened-liquids journey.  57 1/2 hours and 6 pounds later…  Oh, yeah!  And broke the quick and speedy with a fresh fruit smoothie.

Oh, the energy!  Oh, the hours and hours of getting things done with out that 2:30 feeling or the 5 hour energy shot!  Oh, the deep sleep of a healthy me!  And the waking up refreshed at the end of that deep, refreshing sleep.

I feel as if I could fly.  Or clean out my kids’ rooms and do several loads of laundry after scrubbing the kitchen and dining room and rearranging the living room.

Which I have more time for since I’m no longer working at a paying, outside-the-home, reception job (which I enjoyed, btw).  But I am a mom and I mentioned before that this involves mommying my 3 kiddos.  And giving Jim more time to spend doing sales, with which income I purchase fresh produce and wheat berries.  And name brand deodorant, cosmetics, and other various hygiene products.

And I have squishy, lovey, huggy, spastic, gorgeous, obnoxious, adorable babies, well, toddlers now really.

e - Lolly

And energy.

Maybe someday I’ll scrounge up enough time, space, and inspiration to sell a couple things on Etsy.  Or whatever…

And I have discovered this new site, which I love.

I also miss my sister who has been gone all summer.  And will be gone more as soon as she gets home.  Jerk.

I think I’m trying to fit a month’s worth of blogging into this post.

P.S. What if I changed my middle name?  It’s the most boring middle name in the history of middle names.  I sincerely apologize to all of you who share my middle name.  But, c’mon!  It doesn’t even end with an ‘e’.   For pities’ sake!

bland

egg

plain

bell

Name That Show…

and what’s my middle name?