reconnecting with me, myself and I

I stopped pumping last week. If you've ever had the pleasure, or the displeasure as the case may be, to attach yourself on the regular to the machine that squeezes the milk out of your breasts like cattle, then you know it often feels like a degrading ball and chain. It's a love/hate thing, because it's also the reason I was able to work full-time and still breastfeed Angus.

And for me, this time around, I actually enjoyed my regular breaks throughout the work day, when I could disconnect from the chaos around me and reconnect, symbolically, to my little baby boy. I tried not to work during those breaks, because really, it was the only time awake that I had totally to myself (at work and at home), to collect my thoughts and just breathe.

But towards the end of the year, when I was still at my old job, I let that rule slip and started using the time to catch up on work email. I regret that now. I let my stress take over the mindfulness that had always been so important to me.

Giving up the pump has been harder for me emotionally this time. Because it means my baby boy is becoming self-sufficient and doesn't need me as much anymore. And also because he might be the last baby. We're still not sure.

On the upside, giving up the pump means regaining a little piece of myself—for myself, and for my Love. The less Angus needs of me, the more freedom we have to go on dates, to hang out, to reconnect. I'm totally fine with that. And I'm sure my Love is too.

And of course, Angus is doing the best out of all of us.

date night

change is good; transition is hard

Goodbye EatingWell—one era ends, a new era begins.

When midnight came and went on December 31 last year, Col and I were miraculously awake to toast in the New Year. That never happens. We didn't require much dialogue to know what the other one was thinking, and so with our eyes and with our hearts, we committed our resolve. "To 2015," I said, raising my glass. "The year of change."

I won't mince words. While 2014 was an incredible year in many ways, most notably welcoming little baby Angus into the world, it was also the most challenging year we've faced together in our marriage. I had returned to a very difficult work environment after my maternity leave. Col was also dealing with the high demands of his job. With two small children and both of us in stressful full-time jobs, we rarely found time for ourselves, let alone each other. It's not that we were arguing all the time. It wasn't like that. It was just that we barely saw each other. We barely knew each other. Our balancing teacup act was resting nervously on the tipping point, just waiting for that one innocent catalyst to smash it all to pieces. Something had to give.

The occasion for change came swiftly, ready or not. Within weeks, I was presented with a promising job opportunity that would allow me to revitalize my career and find passion in my work once again. There wasn't much to discuss—we had already decided change needed to happen. My head, my heart and my gut were all saying, emphatically, "Yes!" I accepted the job.

But that didn't make the change any easier. My colleague at the time said to me, "change is good, but transition is hard." After eight good years with a brand and a company I'd poured my heart and soul into, I had made the decision to up and leave without looking back. Even as I was so excited for a fresh start and to let go of my heavy baggage, saying goodbye to each of my colleagues was like going through a traumatic breakup over and over again. And at my new job, it took me weeks before I stopped really missing my old team, my old systems, my old routine and all of the things that were familiar to me.

In the end though, the change really has been good. At work, I feel challenged and inspired. I come home at night with the mental space to converse with my family. I'm laughing again. I'm meeting friends for drinks after work. I'm regaining my life back. But we're still in transition, finding our new rhythms. Some of the other issues I've resolved to change still need addressing.

And some change is out of our control. That kind of change is sad and it is difficult. But it is almost always good. Eventually. It just takes time.

What I'm realizing lately is that this is not the year of change so much as it is the year of transition. Maybe even years of transition. It will be difficult, it will be inspiring, amazing, scary and heart-wrenching. But when I think about December 31, 2015, I don't have a clear picture of where we'll be on this journey, what our lives will look like or what we will be toasting. The bigger surrounding picture is still fuzzy. And that is exciting to me. That we still have time to shape things for the better. That we don't have to be stuck in a rut or chronically unhappy or stressed. It's incredibly empowering to finally have that epiphany. Would that it had come sooner in life. But better late than not at all.

I don't read parenting books

I work with some amazing people. Many of them are full-time working parents. On any given day, you can walk into the staff kitchen during lunch and witness some of the most interesting conversations about parenting: discipline, spousal relationships, work life balance, potty training, healthy cooking, sickness. You name it. There's usually banter, since not only are my colleagues smart and multifaceted, but they're also passionate and opinionated.

Today the lively conversation was about a parenting book called duct tape something or other. I missed the beginning of the conversation and I missed much of the middle and end, to be honest, because I found myself sucked in to obversing the conversation unfold. One was trying to give advice, based on what she'd read and had success with. Another had read 2 pages and was already skeptical, based on her own parenting experiences. Here I chimed in briefly, "you guys read parenting books?!"

People read parenting books?! One time last year in a moment of sleep-deprived desperation, I succumbed to a book on sleep. I didn't get very far, before I felt completely bewildered. None of the suggestions felt right. They felt too hard, too unnatural. And my baby rejected them too. As a new parent, it took all the courage within me to set aside self-doubt (and that dang book) and rely on my gut. And my baby. 

Sure there are nougats of truth in those books, but if you're a parent searching for answers or hard and fast rules, it's hard not to take the words of the "experts" for gospel and live by them without exception. And the problem there is that as a parent, with living breathing children, you will never fully live up to that gospel. You will ultimately make a mistake or veer from the path and feel like a failure.

I'd much prefer to observe my colleagues at the lunch table and pick and choose the parts that sound good. I'd much prefer to get advice from a friend who is in the same thick of it that I am. I'd much prefer to see how my sister handles a situation, and then choose my own variation. I'd much prefer to watch my own child's cues and let her help direct our path. To get and weigh and assess feedback from teachers. And see how my husband handles working through the trials. 

And make mistakes, but feel ok about it.

boats

Today, I left work around 3 to meet up with some other folks from work at the dock a few minutes from the office. The sky was clear and big, the sun was out—not too hot, not too cold. It was a small group. Half of us went in Lisa's sailboat, half of us hopped in Jessie's lobster boat (that was my group). Some of us took the ferry. And we all met up for some drinks in Essex, New York on the other side of Lake Champlain.

It was a gorgeous afternoon. We had some food and some drinks. We laughed a lot. The water was very still. The junk in my brain just poured out and away. I haven't felt that much clarity in a long, long time.

I have to say it's been a very, very intense few weeks (months!)—with wedding planning and visitors and travel on the personal side and trying to launch a new website on the work side. The website has been a labor of love. We've been working so hard and I'm happy to say that it's up! It went live sometime between the boat ride and now (half our team had to stay at the office to make it happen, I almost didn't go myself). You must check it out: eatingwell.com. I'm a little scared to hand out the link—launching a site is scary and a lot can go wrong. So if you do see anything terribly wrong, please be kind and don't say anything. At least for a few days...

Any-who, on the boat ride today, I was thinking to myself: I feel so lucky. I live in an amazing place, I have a wonderful family and love, I have a fantastic job and I work with fun awesome people. But you know what? Luck has nothing to do with it. I have worked very, very hard to get where I am and I just need to celebrate that. I'm so glad I went on the boat... here are some pictures of just some of my awesome EatingWell co-workers:

feeling potty

I'm utterly engrossed in my work right now. In a good way. And I can't wait to be able to tell you all about it. But for now, you'll notice I'm away from my personal desk more than usual. (We all need a little escape from the computer screen!)

I took a break from it all this past weekend. One of my mostest friends Brooksie came to stay; my bestest sisters and mum in the world hosted the most amazing bridal shower for me; I got to see lots of family and girly friends; I was treated like a princess by everyone. It was incredible. Here's Brooksie at Leunig's wearing her new MJ tee:



And here's me at the shower opening my presents. Image courtesy of Kim. I was too busy to take photos this time. Thanks Kim!


(I got some really incredible gifts; it was rather overwhelming. People keep asking me what my favorite gift was, but they were just all so great, I really couldn't say, Sir!) We sat outside on the back lawn, sipped on spiked lemonade and nibbled yummy little treats including my favorite dried dates stuffed with Doe's Leap goat feta and pistachios. I was very nervous to have all that attention, but it ended up okay. Thank you to everybody near and far who came to my shower. It meant so much to me.

Well, a part from the amazing weekend where I was a lazy queen, I've been pretty busy. Mostly with work. But that hasn't stopped me from getting a gorgeous dinner on the table every night. The produce right now is just too wonderful to pass up. And as I know I've mentioned before, cooking helps me decompress after a long day at the computer.

Oh and they keep giving away food at work when they're done using it for photo shoots. Yesterday it was sweet corn on the cob. Tonight: heirloom tomatoes! Can you believe it? Here's the amazing dinner I made with them and some baby squash from the farmer's market. I cooked the squash in my new copper pot that Colin's mom gave us at the shower—Joan, the pot is unbelievably beautiful and it felt so good christening it with these beauties:

puppeteer

I'm tired but my eyes are bugging. Do you know that feeling? I knew I shouldn't have had that last cup of coffee at work. So now I'm sitting here on my bed in the dark, thinking just a little too much. I probably need a vacation. Not some semblance of one. Not a day or two here and there. But a real, veritable, drawn out, refreshing, reinvigorating vacation. These days, I hold my breath between 9 and 6. In the car on the way home, I exhale.

Maybe my eyes are bugging for other reasons. For one, the wind that's been blowing tonight is unsettling. Just as you put down your guard, it swoops up and knocks everything on its head. On top of that, those college kids next door are setting off fireworks again. Secondly, there are a lot of moving pieces in my life to watch and listen and oversee.

(Someone called me a puppet master [or something to that effect] at work today, because I like to work behind the scenes. I feel like that a lot of the times. But sometimes I like to be recognized too—doesn't everybody?)

Thirdly, I will see my sister Hannah this week. This is the most sudden fact of all. Do you even realize how excited I am to see her? But there's also hesitation. (Why always hesitation for me?? Colin would say it's because I'm "serious.") Okay, I'll call myself a puppet master for a minute (Colin might say "control freak" sometimes). I'm okay with that. But then it's hard when you want to be in control of everything and everyone. You want everything to be okay for them. But you just can't.

mind dump

I dropped Colin off at the airport yesterday morning. Yup, another trip to Asia. This one's not so bad though and already I can tell the time is just going to whiz right by.

I'm still running (in case you were wondering). I got a new pair of sneaks from my special secret Nike connection (thanks B.F.!) and it's funny, but it's the sneaks that keep me inspired to hit the pavement day after day. I just love putting them on—they're so cushy when I run!

Hung out with the gals on Monday. We've been doing it each Monday now for a while. I think the female companionship is good for all of us.

I'm reading Tender is the Night by F. Scott Fitzergerald for bookclub. I picked it. Even though I'm pretty sure I read this one before. But I can't remember any of it...

Work is chugging along. EatingWell won a James Beard award this past Sunday. Yay! (That's like the Oscar's of the food world.) I'm trying to be more mindful of my days and the passage of time in general. Sometimes I tend to go on auto-pilot.

The Burlington summer farmers' market starts up this Saturday. Think maybe I'll buy some herb plants from that lady on the corner. I'm starting an herb garden this year. Did I mention that? A kitchen herb garden! Here's my list so far:

in garden:
sage
rosemary
thyme
lavender
oregano
tarragon
chives

in pots:
lemon verbena
mint
basil
parsley

state of things

It's been an interesting week so far in the Wall/Alger household.

Burton had budget cuts yesterday. That means that some people—some friends—were let go. And other people—the ones who survived—were given pay cuts, including Col. We were reading the story last night on Transworld. Burton made a lot of smaller cuts to save jobs. Jake and Donna even gave up their salaries for the rest of the year to drive home that point.

Despite the fact that Col still has a job, we felt sad and sick to our stomach at the news. You escape something like that, while others don't, and you can't help but feel a sense of guilt. You feel like it's your job to do something, to try and make things better. But you can't. It's no sense thinking, "What if it had have been me?" but that's where your mind goes and then it's a downward spiral.

Still, we're so thankful right now.

Today, Transworld ran another story on Burton. This time, it was a little more uplifting. Guess who the article's about? That's right, my boy Col. Check it out: BEHIND THE LINES: Burton Men’s Outerwear. They had interviewed him about the upcoming collections a while back and just released the story. Weird timing, huh?

Any-who. I hope the weekend's more mellow. We're going down to Peru, Vermont to visit our Auntie Lucy and Uncle John. Maybe take a few last runs of the season at Stratton. Maybe visit old stomping grounds like the Vermont Country Store and Mother Myricks. Mmm. Sounds nice.

xoxo

a new website for an old friend

I finally have something to show for the website I created for my friend Madeleine Vedel. She was the angel that lured me over to Arles, France in the first place right after college. This updated website is for her business, which offers French cuisine cooking classes and personal guided tours of Provence.

(I highly recommend a December visit right before the holidays—you'll enjoy a veritable feast for the gourmand, with all the truffles, duck confit and Châteauneuf-du-Pape you can imagine. Oh, and did I mention King Cake? Plus trips to the chocolate maker, the bee keeper, the goat cheese maker, the baker and potter... ah, the list goes on. And they offer a lovely and affordable B&B in Arles where you can stay for a very good price at just a stone's throw away from the Arena.)

The site is a work in progress at this point. She and I are still ironing out some kinks. And Internet Explorer is treating me cruelly. But here's a screenshot of the new homepage. And here's the website.

I do hope you like it; I've been spending all my free minutes after midnight on this project!

ugh, why do I get so nervous?

I just got home from the tech jam. It was very well-attended! So much more than I expected—I got very nervous at all the people staring at me—and did I mention they taped it for public access TV—and forgot half the stuff I was going to talk about. How do you forget what you do every day? It should be second nature. Well I forgot. And I got shaky. And half-way through I completely lost my train of thought and there was complete silence for about 30 seconds. How mortifying! Maybe no one even noticed...

While chaos was my inner monologue, the panel discussion actually went quite well—I think I was lucid enough to hand out a couple useful tips. And I met 3 really cool people:

Cathy Resmer, the online editor for Seven Days, seemed so happy to meet me and interested in what I do. Her enthusiasm calmed my nerves for a little bit. Turns out, our jobs are quite similar.

Steve Benen, a political blogger for The Washington Monthly—he writes every day for 9 hours straight!

And Marybeth Redmond from St. Mike's has such a contagious energy. I would love to take her course on converging journalism.

Too bad by the end I was so spooked, I booked it out of there so fast and completely forgot to say goodbye to Steve and Marybeth. So, if you're reading this, it was really nice to meet you!

what I do at work

Ever wonder what I do all day at work? Sometimes I wish I could get a glimpse into the day and life of some of my friends. Seriously, the only times we hang out are around food or a drink or Project Runway—who wants to talk about work outside of work? Well, I do, for one. Now's your chance to hear all about me (and other web writers) and what we do behind the curtain on a daily basis. You know you want to know...

This Saturday, I'm going to be a panelist for the Vermont 3.0 Creative/Tech Career Jam at Champlain College in Burlington. I'll be speaking on the "So, You Wanna Write for the Web" panel discussion, with Washington Monthly blogger Steve Benen and St. Mike's Journalism Professor Marybeth Redmond. Seven Days' Cathy Resmer will be the moderator.

We'll be there to talk about what we do, answer questions and share tips with people who are interested in pursuing our line of work.

And it's not just web writers either. There will be a whole slew of different companys and creative/tech careers represented. Here's a full list of panels and times. Ours is the first one of the day at 10 a.m. Cool!

lost in space?

I normally would consider myself a very organized person. I make lists. I cross things off. I pay my bills on time. However, today it came to my attention that messages in my P.Post e-mail account, which I thought were being forwarded to a more active, more frequently checked e-mail account, have been sitting dormant in my inbox for the past year. Yes, that's right. 12 months. Lost in cyber space. That's the sort of oversight I'm inclined to obsess over—and feel guilty about. But instead of obsessing, I decided to write back.

There was an e-mail from Cory in Brooklyn wondering if Burlington is cool. She was considering moving here to get away from the city... I wrote back, "Yes, it's so cool here!" I think it's cool, my friends think it's cool. (Yes, even cool for the city gals.) Even Nylon magazine thinks it's cool—they did a profile on Burlington back in November and were surprised it's so much more than just cows up here. (But we do have a lot of cows, and they make the best freakin' cheese in the world—we're so lucky.)

I also had an e-mail from Kate at ModernCat.net. She read my post about how depressing cat litter boxes are and wanted to let me know that there are some great products out there, including Burlington's own Hepper Home, which features designer furniture for cats and dogs. Thanks Kate. What a life saver!

I also heard from Paula at Seven Days, who invited me to be a panelist in a discussion about creative technology careers for the upcoming Vermont 3.0 event in October. (She was smart enough to give me a phone call when I never e-mailed her back.) So cool! Well, I am ready and willing to talk about my job as Web Producer at EatingWell. I love it so much! More info on that when I know more.

After I answered some e-mails tonight, I opened the fridge and noticed that a lot of the beautiful produce I bought at the farmer's market is starting to go by. So I decided to make a delicious quiche with baby summer squash, arugula, shitakes, onion and garlic. I ran out of milk, so I had to use buttermilk and a little sour cream for the custard. I've never done that before! But it's in the oven now and I'm excited to see how it turns out. I'll letcha know!

xoxo

you, me and the couch

It's been one of those weeks. Wake up go to work. Work. Get home late. Eat dinner on the couch. Watch T.V. (It's not all bad: Watching Heidi and Sarah back to back on Wednesday night was an interesting, if not pointless, study in American culture). Go to bed. Wake up. Go back to work. Is that what they call the grind? That's not what I want to be doing with the rest of my life, that's for sure.

Emma mentioned I haven't written on Eat Peas since June. Quelle tragédie! Is it awful to say this? I kind of forgot about it. Should I just bag the whole thing or carry on? I certainly have much to write these days on nourishment and I can't wait to tell you about the ice cream recipe I concocted last night: candied figs and Vermont plums, cassis, a little Syrah and toasted pine nuts with a Jersey cream custard. Can you handle it? I certainly can't. And I've been stuffing my face with it ever since it came out of the spinner.

Okay, I'm determined to stay off the couch all weekend. So for now, I'm off to hop on some art.

Loveyoubye.

solace at work

Right beside the EatingWell offices where I work in Charlotte, there’s a quiet pond surrounded by friendly cattails. There’s the sound of bullfrogs and birds. There are fields stretching towards the tree-lined Route 7 and rolling Mount Philo beyond. The air is speckled with the sweet smell of wildflowers—like cotton candy—warm from the sun. I walk there sometimes when I need a little solace. I go there to think and to calm down.

I went there today. I wanted to stay there all day. I wish there was a bench by the pond...

It oftentimes feels counter-intuitive that I live in downtown Burlington, yet everyday have to drive 25 minutes into the countryside to get to work. Most people have it the other way round.

But on this day, I wouldn’t have it any other way. It feels so nice to be wrapped in a furry cloak of cattails. It feels so good to have the birds whip around your head and lift the weight of the day. It feels good to just be quiet, to be simple and to observe.

better to be right—or happy?

Colin's been working a lot of late—I mean late—nights these days. So much so, that this afternoon when he told me he wouldn't make it home for dinner again and he probably wouldn't be home before I went to bed, I completely lost my cool. I told him this had to stop—if not for his sanity, then at least for his health. I told him he had to figure it out once and for all. Talk to his boss. Talk to HR. Just figure it out. I mean, this isn't Wall Street, for crying out loud, this is Burlington, Vermont. After a few more terse remarks, we both decided that conversation was not appropriate for the phone—or the workplace—and hung up feeling shitty and down.

"I need a run," I thought to myself. "I need to come up with a plan so that we can figure this out once and for all." I drove home from work completely distracted. Fuming that Col was so willing to come up with reasons (excuses in my mind) why this time was so important. Why this week is so busy. Next week will be different.

During my run, I almost completely missed the beautiful sunset—and the beautiful evening—because I was so worked up on working things out. But finally towards the end of my run, I started feeling better. I knew I was right and I was going to show him. In my mind, I had come up with a punch list of all the items that were wrong with our situation and all the ways he was going to fix them.

I ran up the stairs and into our apartment loaded with ammo, but feeling a sudden knot of recognition in my stomach. "We've been here before," I thought. "If this approach didn't work then, why would it work now?"

And then I wondered: Why was I so angry? Was it because he really let me down? Or was it simply because I wasn't in control? I had to admit, I think it was the latter. After all, all I really wanted was to have dinner with him. And if that was all, then I had a very simple solution.

I picked up the phone and dialed Col's work. He answered right away.

"Hello?"

"Hey Luv," I said. "How ya doing?"

"Okay." He sounded tired.

"I'm sorry about earlier." I said.

"Me too."

"Are you hungry? Have you eaten today?"

"I'm starving. All I've had to eat all day is chips from the vending machine."

"Can I bring you dinner? I can make you a sandwich. And salad. How's that sound?"

"Would you really?? That would be so awesome."

That horrible weight, that horrible knot—it immediately melted away. And after we hung up, I whipped up the best brown bag dinner ever:

• 2 salami cheddar sandwiches on honey bread
• Romaine salad with blue cheese, tamari almonds and homemade Buttermilk Ranch Dressing
• Pretzel sticks with my homemade Boursin cheese dip (Col's favorite!)
• An entire sleeve of Girl Scout thin mints (his other favorite!)
  
• And a Corona
  

I drove to Burton and presented my peace offering to Col with great pride. He was so excited to see me and tell me what he was working on. We set up his little picnic at one of the work tables, and there—admidst papers and charts and fabric samples—we had dinner together, while the cleaning ladies vacuumed around our feet.

Yes, it was a proud moment. Relationships teach you a lot about yourself. Tonight I learned that your faults—no matter how deeply ingrained—are easily remedied if you take the time to pause and consider your options. In the same moment that I realized I'm a control-freak, I learned to tame the "control" urge and use it for good: by taking control in a fragile situation. Not by pushing, but by leading. And that is a good feeling.

Phew! Another crisis diverted!

more eatingwell fun

I think it's about time to start touting some of the fabulous stuff we've been working on at EatingWell.

The EatingWell Menu Planner

With this new interactive online tool, you can create daily or weekly menus with your favorite recipes from EatingWell.com (or your own favorite recipes and foods) and print convenient shopping lists based on your selections. You can also use the tool to calculate your calorie intake, track your weight, write daily journal entries and follow your progress toward reaching your personal health goals. All you need is a My EatingWell account.

Green & Sustainable Channel

Just in time for Earth Day! We've compiled all of our "green" content in one convenient place—buyer's guides, health facts, articles on green living, sustainable food choices, and more. Check it out!

Blogging on Shine from Yahoo!


Can't remember if I've mentioned this yet, but Yahoo!'s new blog-based website, Shine, is featuring an EatingWell blog in their food channel. Our editors have been working really hard to write some fabulous entries—and there's a new one every day. The 5 quick and healthy weeknight meals in the picture is one of our posts, written by the recipe makeover maven, Jessie Price.

"The Slideshow"

For those of us intimately involved, we call it "The Slideshow." But it's not really a slideshow; it's more like a call-out for out top content of the week. (Some people call it a switcher.) There are five categories: Fresh Foods, Food News, Diet & Nutrition Tips, Healthy Recipes, and Recipe Makeovers. We added it to the EatingWell homepage as a way to elevate our awesome content, which might otherwise be buried. It's something that yours truly spends at least four hours a week producing. But I love it. And this week, we're featuring one of my favorite slides to date: Sweet Tart—all about rhubarb.

Ch-ch-ch-chia!

Over at EatingWell headquarters, we've got a little inter-office competition going on: who can grow the best Chiapet? The champion (Chiapet) will have the glory of being photographed for an upcoming issue of EatingWell. There's a pet in every department, and wouldn't you know it, the interactive team (that's us) got stuck with the dog with the gimp leg. Er, make that missing leg.

Now, if you know anything about Chiapets, you know this is a problem. You see, Chiapets are hollow and you're supposed to fill the things to keep them watered from the inside out. With a broken leg, the water just pours out the bottom.

Paula & Paul, my co-workers tried to make a prosthesis using a sandwich bag. That didn't work. Now the dog's just sitting in a bowl soaking up the water from his feet. That means he's getting more water on the bottom half. So I imagine, after all's said and done, he'll end up looking more like one of those show-dogs with short hair on top and long hair on the bottom. Maybe that's too creepy for a photo shoot?

We do have one advantage: our office has a green house on one side and it's been sunny and warm the last few days. So that's where Chia sits for the time being. Here's what he looks like so far:

sumtin' good

There's something good in every sour situation. Take, for instance, this entire day of February 4, 2008. Woke up late, got to work late, server down till 11 a.m. But since we couldn't access our e-mail or the internet or any of our files for 2 hours, that meant I got to have a super-long "brainstorming" meeting with my friend Nicci and we had a good laugh about aphrodisiacs and the Bush Administration's stimulus package (which I inadvertently referred to as "stimulation package" in a later meeting—thanks to all that libido talk, you know).

Meeting upon meeting, got out of the last meeting after 5, just in time for the server to crash again and to see a mouse scurry across Paula's boot. We bonded in commiseration. I had the shakes from too much thinking and proclaimed, "I don't think I can drive home yet!"

"Wanna come over for a glass of wine?" Paula asked. She's lucky enough to live 5 miles down the road in Charlotte.

"Yes!" I proclaimed. And I think I took Paula off guard. But we went to her place and had some nice wine, yummy gooey cheese and crackers. And by the time I got home, I felt much, much better.

There's always sumtin' good to be had when you end the day off right. That means: a new Peas Weekly posting, more cheese and crackers for dinner (and some salad and fruit for good measure!), kitties purring by your leg, computing next to Col, and having a drink—be it water, Witte or wine—in my favorite Simon Pearce goblet.

Good Monday, everyone.

good ol' '07

Aside from the Gershwin and the figgy pudding, I feel like I never gave December the full attention it deserved in my post-party holiday redux—partly because I was just too busy getting ready for the next thing. So finally here are some clips (in picture) and highlights from one of the best end-of-years to date. It's never too late to write thank you notes either, by the way. (I started mine today.)

It snowed a lot in December:



One Sunday night it snowed and snowed and snowed, so we walked into town and met up with Chip & Susan at the Daily Planet. It was so cozy and warm and so many people were out and about despite (or perhaps because of!) the weather.



We had a lovely holiday party at EatingWell. Here's my favorite picture from the night of Mike, our art director, wearing a snowman vest for the occasion:


After Christmas, Hannah flew into town from California. Emma, Hannah and I put on an extravagent fancy dinner for 6 (Kevin, Colin and Vanessa were the other guests). Hannah posed by the fire. This picture was a mishap, but I still like it:


The dinner theme was Italian. Em really outdid herself with this melon ball and goat cheese course:



After dinner, we girls had one of our notorious dance parties around the Christmas tree while the boys did the dishes.



Then we wound up back in Newport for New Year's. We spent the evening building a snowboard jump in the back yard. It was fierce. Hannah got some good pictures of it. Now the question remains: How will 2008 ever measure up?

did I mention the ice cream maker?

I got one for Christmas from Emi & Kevin. A bright red one with not one but TWO mixing bowls (which I am told made the sales lady at the kitchen shop green with envy). For those of you who know me, then you know: this just might revolutionize my life.

For those of you who don't know me that well, would you believe I used to work on a dairy farm and make ice cream for a living? Well, it was just a summer job after college, and it wasn't just ice cream, but it was WORK. I was living with Em & Kev down in Simsbury, Connecticut. We were all working and living at Town Farm Dairy—a small jersey farm where we bottled the milk in glass bottles and shipped it off with the milk man to be delivered to the neighborhood families before sunrise.

After we bottled the milk, there'd still be tons of it remaining in the holding tank. So we'd make yogurt, cheese, cottage cheese, butter, cream fraiche—anything dairy to use up the leftover golden cream. (It really was golden too—those jersey gals make the best milk around, especially when they're eating all that fresh green grass in the summer months.)

On special occasions, we would make ice cream. The flavor would depend on what was growing in the garden patch (Rhubarb in spring, Strawberries in June) or on the fruit tree (Peaches in August). And in between we'd make chocolate, mint chip, and coffee chip. Making ice cream in large batches requires cracking A LOT of eggs and cutting up A LOT of strawberries. Then when the ice cream was finished churning, we would package it all by hand and race it one by one into the freezer. There was just Agnes and me, and when it was hot, we'd have to work FAST. Customers came from far and wide to get their hands on our limited edition flavors. Our cows produced a slightly higher fat milk, making the ice cream that much creamier, dense and smooth.

I learned a few things about ice cream making that summer. Then in the fall, I moved to Provence, France and learned even more. In France, it was less about the production and more about experimenting with flavor. We made a lavender vanilla ice cream that was out of this world. We also made some pretty unusual sorbets like ripe peach with lavender honey.

Ever since, I've been dying for the machine. You can always make it without the machine of course, with patience and a fork. But the machine makes you legit.

It's winter, so the first recipe I tried was this Cranberry Ice Cream (no milk at all mind you, just cream—a heart-attack waiting to happen). I wanted to follow the recipe to a T, but couldn't bear the thought of cranberry dessert without any kind of orange, or the idea of homemade ice cream without chocolate chips. So instead of cinnamon, I added Grand Marnier. And at the end I tossed in some chopped up dark chocolate bits. It came out pretty well for a first try.

Now I just gotta get my hands on David Lebowitz's ice cream book, The Perfect Scoop. That outta keep me busy.