Tie-ins

thehardyheyday.blogspot.com

I didn't realize it at first, but when Jacob and I went shopping upon our return to the states for a few essentials it occurred to me I've picked up a new responsibility: dressing my husband. I'm not saying he can't pick out his clothes, or that men can't dress themselves. But I've never participated in the opinion-giving process for guys' clothes.

I know what I like when I see it, I guess. I definitely know what I don't like when I see it.

I'm not bad at sweaters, dress shirts, polos, khakis, shoes even, blazers sometimes, belts maybe. But ties?

I have no idea.

Is this really my job? If so, I'm going to need some training.

Routinely out of schedule

There's a popular book for business people operating in the Middle East called, "Don't They Know It's Friday?", which addresses the confusion over scheduling snafus resulting from Eastern v Western schedules. Friday is holy day in many Muslim countries and, therefore, not a working day. Our weeks generally operated on a Sunday-Thursday schedule and our neighbors in Oman were mostly Saturday-Wednesday (I think). Back home in the states, a typical work week is...

dependent, I guess, on what you do. I've always worked jobs that are structured on the Monday - Friday, but required a bit more than that - as Jacob's job right now does. Bless than man's hardworking heart, he is killing it every day except Sunday and a couple of hours on Monday. And not just 9-5. Oh, no. He is out the door most mornings at 8 and comes back in 12 hours later, if we're lucky.

So I'm routinely out of schedule. Even when I spend a couple of hours every day slacking off or exploring or daydreaming or reading, I'm still left with plenty of time to get my work done and still miss the man. What's a girl to do? Not that I'm complaining, mind you, just super appreciative of everything he's doing and hopefully expressing just how proud I am of all his hard work.

G L A M O..r not so much

Today dawned beautifully, full of sun and clear skies - and such a relief after the last few days of grey. I was looking forward to my big household task of the day as I stepped outside to mow the grass. HELlo! Speaking of wake up call. It was like 45 degrees and WINDY! How can do they stand it up here? It should at least be warm enough to enjoy if you have to be outside doing yard work. C'mon!

Anyway, the real hilarity in all this is that, as I was sweating (in a fleece and patagonia tights) and toiling, pushing, pulling and coaxing the mower up hills of way overgrown grass and occasionally stepping in dog-dug holes in the backyard, Glamorous by Fergie came on my ipod.

Ha. Not so much.

Rainy Saturday

Jacob now works Saturdays at this new job and his 12 hour days (plus commute) and 6 day a week schedule are a lot different from what we've had in the past. We knew this kind of change would come and, in a way, it's wonderful. I love waking up and seeing him off in the morning and, even more, I love it when I see him pulling into the driveway.

But, I have this observation: I'm thankful that I have work - and work that is flexible enough I can take it with me anywhere. Because, I have to think that being a housewife sans kids would bore me to death.

Well, maybe not if I had oodles of cash on hand and just shopped and worked out and was groomed all day by a dedicated staff.

...

Nope, I think I'd still be bored.

Anyway, I was planning an exploratory trip to the West Side Market today and, while much of it is indoors, I was really hoping for some nice weather and photography ops. It turned out to be a rainy Saturday and I just wasn't feeling that for traipsing around, so I stayed closer to the house.

Thanks again for the casa, P& J!

I'll have to save that one for next week, so stay tuned, but in the mean time: a little sampling of the Ohio spring and our new (temporary - although, aren't they all right now?) digs.

Rice-in

thehardyheyday.blogspot.com

Remember when it was all the rage to send some kind of poisonous powder to some government office (and just for that line, I fattened up my FBI file for sure, just like all the little geniuses who joined that facebook group 'Dear Lord, this year you took my favorite actor Patrick Swayze, my favorite actress Farah Fawcett...yada yada, Barack Obama is my favorite president'. Don't you people know anything? If Al Gore invented the internet, Barack owns it - but I guess he is giving it away so, whatever right? Wrong. Add a page to all their files. Maybe two. And audit them).

Anyway. that was a major tangent and the point was, I made rice so bad the other day that it could have been poison. Thus 'Rice-in,' it's a play on words. Get it? Gah, what a waste. At least it's Saturday. It was, what I hope is a few-and-far-between black mark on my cooking record. It was rice porridge. It was rice soup. It was pure gluten in a pot. A pot which boiled over and spewed, well, I'm not going to describe it. I did take a picture of it, though. Mostly because it dried and peeled off the pan in these crinkled little rivulets that make you wonder just what is in the food you eat if this is what happens to it when you leave it alone for two seconds?! (Oh, and because my husband still did the dishes - even after being presented with that monstrosity for dinner)

So, I have been cut down to size once again. This is a sidenote that I think will inspire a new label called 'I was wrong'. This post is dedicated to my brother who, when he complained about not being able to cook rice, I teased. He has a rice cooker, now. And I am a sucker.

PS-I was so excited to read notes from people who know the GIANT EAGLE personally! Love it!

Giant Eagle to the rescue

I've shopped in lot of different places in my time. I always enjoy open air markets, and then there are the places like a true butcher shop or "chicken guy," who kept live chickens inside his store and slaughtered them in front of you. I've done the mini mart for essentials, supermarkets (American, French, Moroccan) and boutique gourmet shops. 

What I had never done, before today, was "Giant Eagle." Yes, that is the name of the leading supermarket up here. GIANT EAGLE. What?!

But it's true. And sort of glorious.

On a side note, today was the first time I've been grocery shopping for us in FOUR MONTHS! That's what you get, kids, when you live with family for months on end: spoiled. Which, is a clue to what's coming tomorrow here on thehardyheyday. 

Baby, it's cold outside

Have I mentioned Cleveland is cold?

Because it is.

The upside?

We get to see spring again, yay!

But it still stinks when you wake up and the floors are cold.

Baby Time (NO, not ours)

I was so excited to get to snap a few shots of Josie during a laid back afternoon up here in Ohio (Cuyahoga Falls, to be precise). She and Phillip are expecting in just a couple of days, and she's barely had a shot taken of her pregnancy, so it was such an honor that she asked me to be a part of capturing this special time! 

Since both Phillip's and Josie's families are abroad (Josie is Swedish and Phillip grew up between Lexington and Brussels), it's important to have photos so the family can be a part of things. 

As you can see, and I already knew, Josie is absolutely gorgeous and I swear she hasn't gained an ounce of weight except baby. It's unbelievable. 

We're so happy that we'll be here to welcome this little one to the world and experience this wonderful time with our friends. 

I'm no professional, but I'd have to say that she'd make this an easy job for anyone. 

The plank...

There's a passage in the bible that discusses taking care of your own issues before getting up all over other people. It's in Matthew 7:3-5. It's familiar to parochial school kids, Sunday school grads (and dropouts), churchgoers, churchhaters and pretty much every kid/grown up who wanted to give an end-all reason some sibling/parent/significant other/friend/frienemy should mind his or her own business. I'm not about to go into the true theological thoughts on the depth of this biblical statement against hipocrisy, but I am going to tell you that's sure what I was thinking this morning...

But about myself, not someone else.

The verse basically says, 'you see a splinter in your friend's eye and you want to get it out for him, but you need to check yourself first because you're sporting a plank' and, hey, that might just affect your own eyesight.

So, back to this morning...or perhaps back to a couple of months ago when I started mining my mom's attic for some of my clothes. I pulled out a bunch of my old clothes - my 'old' clothes that are pretty and voluminous in the amount available and sometimes expensive and that scream SINGLE! FUN! GREAT JOB! 

One of the selections I gingerly selected to remove from its protective plastic and begin wearing was a gorgeous pearl-gray Lewis Cho skirt made of so many layers of translucent silk chiffon. I cautioned Jacob as I carefully placed it, buffeted by tshirts, in the suitcase - that he must MUST be careful. Those layers get away from you, I said. It's silk. I love it, I said. It cost a half month's rent on our apartment, I said. Be careful.

So when I squared my shoulders and asked him, yesterday, if he remembered when I told him about that skirt, he looked at me - terrified - and said, 'Yes. I was careful. I didn't do anything. What did I do?'

And do you know why I love that man? Because when I told him I'd zipped it up in the suitcase (all by myself, in a rush, not being careful, not watching the layers) his first response was to ask if it was ok, not to be relieved that it wasn't him and, mercifully, not even to laugh at me (I totally deserved it).

You'll be happy to know that, after a good half an hour, I managed to extricate my skirt from the suitcase zipper - and they both came out no worse for the wear unlike, perhaps for the better, my attitude, which was better for the adjustment.

The Party Time

thehardyheyday.blogspot.com

For those of you following the saga of our car search - oh, wait, I haven't posted anything about the search because it's been a regional, tri-state area, budgetarily constraining, time consuming stressball (my mother in law blames cash for clunkers for taking all the used cars off the market so, like UK's loss this year, I blame this on Obama).

I'm going to pause to let that last one sink in. IT WAS A JOKE, KIDS.

But seriously, I've been trying to hide my utter desperation to be in full time possession of a vehicle because I didn't want to stress Jacob out even more. But now that things are settled, I can officially introduce you to...the Party Time.

What? What did you think PT stood for? Ok, I wasn't sure, either, but I figured with this kind of coloring, it had better be something peppy.

Here's to celebrating my new wheels and the fact that I will never ever lose it in the parking lot. Ever.

And now, it's Party Time!

Check your reflexes

That would be your gag reflex. If you keep reading, it might matter...

Don't say I didn't warn you.

Jacob just texted to say he's on his way in from Cleveland. No matter what time you might stumble upon this, right now it's 9:30PM and he's looking down the barrel of a 5 hour drive. And he's been working 13 hour days this week. And he spent all day today moving our friends into their new house. And he's crazy.

I tried to talk him out of it. But he's coming anyway. So, I'll just say I can't wait! It's been a week away and I miss that boy like crazy.

And I'll also say, there was definitely the day when I would have talked him out of it at least in part because I haven't had time to clean up the clothes I've let explode all over the floor, manicure my nails, do my hair or at least shower. Is that growth or regression?

Vanity Project

thehardyheyday.blogspot.com

When I was younger, I used to wonder what my new name would be when I was a true “grown up” and would tie the knot; first as a little girl trying to imagine someone wanting to marry me and later when I had to imagine even wanting to get married at all. I’d make up names, borrow them from some actor or musician or even a classmate (rarely anyone I liked or dated because then it was...real...yuck), then pair them with my own in permutations of potential monikers. 

My favorite included my first and last names with the last name of an Italian jazz pianist because he was cute, I didn’t know him personally and it made me sound like a mafia princess.

I wondered if I’d keep my last name or middle name, or both; with or without the husband’s name. Would it be an ethnic name or fully Americana? Would it lend itself to hyphenation? Would it be a name that paired with the kids’ names I’d thought up during some random daydream of the future? Even in the later days when I’d think it through, it was usually in the context of a letter addressed to me and the Mr., rather than the implications of a name change.

I wouldn’t change a thing about my life before Jacob, nor the time since - and I especially would never never trade my single life for earlier matrimony. Though my best friend from home kicked off the married life at the tender age of 19, I loved the extra 8 years I got. So, singles, go on, keep living your life, don’t jump in unless you really mean it, but if you hold out beware of the flip side. Getting married "later on" (as after college graduation is known here in the pseudoSouth) has its own implications. Since I graduated at 21 and started  my career immediately, I’d worked for several years on my own and formed a network. A network that knew me (duh) by the only name I’d ever had - my maiden name.

Now, after a marriage and a year abroad, I find myself in the interesting position of making a reentry and a debut - two things not easily reconciled. My businesses have always been something about making friends and connections and now, as a consultant, it’s necessary to call back on some of those connections...and I find myself constantly manipulating a mouthful, spitting out my maiden name and last name in quick succession, never sure if I’ve been in contact with this person since I’ve been married and back in the county, never sure if they’d take my calls or recognize the name. 

When I started back into the writing market, I was dedicated to including my married name in the byline. I made sure to change my name on other contact forms and in other venues. I’ve always wanted to take my husband’s name - I think it’s a sweet thing to do and one that symbolizes the joining of families - but the proof is in the legal pudding, I suppose...and I just haven’t been in the mood for pudding yet.

When we first got married, it was impossible to think about legally changing my name because we were traveling so extensively, there was never enough time to process all my paperwork. Now, however, the time is coming and I’m balking a bit. 

That name and I - we go way back - personally and professionally and it’s a breakup with which I’m having a tough time (one of very few hard breakups, I’ll tell you). As I thought about it, though, the core values are still there. I want us to be identified together, as a family. I want our family to be united in name. The only thing that’s really holding me back, well, it’s just a bit of vanity, really. 

I built a life under that name and for all the good memories and service it’s getting pushed to the middle position...well, it will sometime. 

It’s on Facebook, though. That makes it totally official.

My Bachelorette Morning

For the most part, my mornings without Jacob are similar to what they used to be before there was a morning companion (ok, and before I traded my steady day-job for consulting and freelance work, but you get the idea): I get up and make coffee, watch the today show and either get to work or the first appointment. Today, however, I started off the day by lounging in bed a little late and finishing off my latest read: The Blind Side.

Oh. My. Gosh. When my mom recommended this book, she said, "Annie! I picked up this book in the airport and you have to read it! It starts with the same quote (at the beginning) as the movie and it ends with a quote...FROM DWIGHT FREENEY!" In case you haven't read the profile, I'm a huge NFL fan and not even just that, a huge Indianapolis Colts, my hometown team, fan. Dwight Freeney's was the jersey my dad wore most recently, and that my husband wore at his first ever NFL game (Jacob was required to have name, college - Syracuse, position - the defensive end otherwise known as SACK, and basic info down - NFL's scary spinning sack machine will suffice - before he was allowed to wear the jersey).

I know the book's about Michael Oher - and his story is worth a read for sure. It's uplifting and encouraging, and it's just plain feel-good. I'm a God-fearin' woman, so seeing the Lord's work in this family was stunning and inspiring, but I also have to say, Michael Lewis, the author, does a tremendous job of detailing the development of defense in the NFL over the last 30 years. It's a fascinating read on the level of biography on Michael Oher (and to a degree the Tuohy family) AND the NFL itself in certain ways. Don't worry, if you aren't a football fan, there's enough to keep you going to through the stat-packed chapters discussing Bill Walsh's passing strategies. Think about it.

And now that I've had my neanderthal football moments...I'm headed to yoga.

Glee!

Back in the Emirates, when I just didn't have that much to do with myself, I started watching Glee. Partly because I was bored, partly because, ok: I was in show choir in High School.

I mean, we didn't get slushies in the face, but it was a prospect that mixed misery with glory (ha, that's the ol drama queen coming out, thanks Rachel Berry*). Really, though, I totally loved my days with the Debtones and Sound System at CG, and I love that my first day of college, I met one of my now-best girlfriends and we bonded over our mutual participation in the costume-changing song-and-dance wannabe variety broadway show indulgences of a glee-like existence.

If you haven't seen the show, I'd definitely recommend it. The stereotypes are all there and the singing is great. It's a midwest romp and, yes, the name of the group is New Directions (think about it...sound it out), and we actually had one of those in my contest circuit. Plus, next week is Sue Sylvester's Vogue.

Strike a pose.

Ironing out the details

It's a beautiful Kentucky spring day and one of the last I'll have full access to until who knows when. I should probably be outside enjoying it, except I'm inside, obsessing over the details of our next set of unknowns.

Jacob left this morning, headed to Cleveland, and away from me - at least until I can get all my ducks in a row (ok, our ducks) and join him. It just about broke my heart this morning, watching him drive away, which is a funny thing since the first 7 months of our relationship we were hardly together.

Anyway, the point is, there are so many things not done yet - here, in Cleveland - and I don't know how to get them all done, but I don't want to waste time. So, last night, I took on the role of laundress and had to prep Jacob with a wardrobe of suitable attire for any situation to last him for however long it takes for me to  get up there.

What happened was, the obsession just didn't stop and I think I've ironed every piece of clothing iron-able. I've never had such flat clothes in all my life. Flat tshirts, jackets, dresses, skirts, scarves. I may not have all the details handled, but you could say they've been ironed.

Hope for the future

Paula Deen on NBC's Today Show this morning:
"You can have a little bit of Savannah no matter where you are. You can have a little bit of Savannah in Cleveland, Ohio!"

Well, thanks for that, Paula. I'll keep you in mind.

In other news, did you know there's such a thing as a beer milkshake? Well, actually, it's a beer float.

Doesn't matter, though, because it's delicious. Just ask us girls. Mmmm...who knew, chocolate stout? Who knew.

Ice Cream + your favorite (or soon to be new favorite?) Chocolate Stout = Beer Float.

I suggest sampling it with your besties.

On the Road Again (FAQ Version)

Nope, this isn't any tease, this is for reals. I said the next time I posted FAQ would be when we had news and...we do. Have news (No, not that news - sorry moms). We're hitting the road again for a new (temporary) home.

Starting next week, Jacob will be working in Cleveland, OH for his summer internship. So, we MBA-pursuing-Arabic-learning-formerly-yuppie-now-fully-hippie (hobos?) will pack up once more and head toward the next phase in this crazy life.

THUS, the FAQs:

What is this internship?
Jacob will be working with a company that specializes in residential roofing restoration and he'll be doing part time sales with them to learn the company and, in a short while, will structure and open the commercial side of their business.

Really? Cleveland?
Yeah, really Cleveland. But hey, at least it's the summer! And we do have some friends there, plus...hello...it's a job. J-O-B. Anyone checked out the numbers lately? Say it with me. "JOB."

What are you going to do?
Bake cookies, of course. HA! Not. I have been thinking about doing some handicraft kind of REAL Simple Martha Stewart Etsyware, but the majority of my time will be spent working for my marketing/PR clients and continuing to do some freelance writing (look for the my most recent articles in BG's latest magazine and BizLex's upcoming April 30 issue). If I have extra time, I think I'm going to revert to high school and get a mall job. MALL JOB! Discount, baby. Discount. Bookstore, Williams-Sonoma, Banana Republic. Yeah, baby. Oh, and speaking of babies (ha, gotcha again), our dear friends Phillip and Josie are expecting their first and I'm looking forward to being close to them during this exciting time.

So, you're leaving again? 
Yup, but that's no big surprise. I've been prepared to leave basically since we came back to Lexington. It does hurt that I've been enjoying so much great time with my bestest girlfriends (here and in Indy), but at least we made the most of it. Oh, and it's Keeneland time. Ouch. That's so not fair. C'est la vie. Also, with the work I've picked up, it will be necessary for me to get back here often, probably every other week or so.

How...?
OH, yes. So excited. We are about to be a gas-guzzling TWO CAR FAMILY! I mean, that's up from one which is up from a 2/9 share which is up from 0. Don't try to guilt me, I'm going to enjoy this. Whoopee! Freedom! NPR! (Not that I don't love that unique blend of rap and country tunes - kiss kiss, babe).

What else? 
Jacob and I have been spending a bit of time working on my house downtown (where his sister and her friends live), which has been so teasingly fun. I get so excited thinking about one day when the house we work on and own will be the house in which we live. But it's also fun to always have a new change, a new challenge and a new norm. And so, on to that we move next...

wish us luck!

What's for Dinner Part 2

Sorry for the delay, it's been a wild couple of days (more on this later). Here's the finishing to your dinner plans for...sometime...but maybe never. But...maybe sometime!

So, the salad...my favorite salad (except a close second is the grilled chicken and peach salad) is this gorgonzola apple salad.

Take your favorite salad mix or lettuces and toss with balsamic dressing. Add one small package walnut pieces, about 1/2 c gorgonzola and one granny smith apple chopped into small pieces. THIS IS IT! It's so great though, yum.

And now for the "light" (ha) dessert. Let mascarpone reach room temperature. Put in a mixing bowl or stand mixer. Mix on a low setting until the cheese is smooth, slowly add 1/2 cup of cream while mixing on low (be careful not to mix too much or too fast once the cream is in). When the two begin to incorporate, slowly begin to add 1/4 c powdered sugar and then a couple of drops of mint extract. Continue blending until all ingredients are fully incorporated and the mixture begins to expand just slightly with air. Slice strawberries and set in dishes (you can use any berry - or fruit - of your liking). Scoop mixture next to or on top of berries and garnish with mint.

Now I'm kind of sad that I already made this and it's gone...sure sounds good on this lovely evening.

What's for dinner, Part 1

If you're looking for something for dinner tonight, here's an easy menu from our last evening with Jacob's sister and her husband. The whole thing is super easy and totally tasty, but did I mention a light custard? I meant it tastes light...not much diet here...

This roasted chicken + mashed potatoes + apple walnut salad + insert dessert here = classic around my house and has been for a long time. Chances are if you've been over for dinner you've had it...

Roasted Chicken with Lemon, Garlic and Rosemary
Purchase a whole roaster (3-4lbs)
3-4 cloves minced garlic
1 lemon
2-3 sprigs rosemary
3 T olive oil
1 t salt
2T pepper

Remove any interior leftovers from the chicken and make sure cavity is clean. Mix olive oil, salt, pepper and garlic and set aside. Quarter lemon and set aside. Spoon olive oil mixture over chicken and rub in all over the skin. Also spoon mixture inside and rub inside cavity. After all the mixture is gone, insert the quartered lemon into the cavity along with two sprigs of rosemary. Insert one sprig of rosemary under the skin at the neck. Bake at 450 degrees for :30 on the center rack and then turn down heat to 350 and continue baking for an additional hour.

While the chicken is baking, work on your potatoes

Mashed Red potatoes
Red potatoes (depending on size, I usually choose 3-4 potatoes per person), chopped into large chunks
1/2 stick of butter
Milk or cream to taste
salt
pepper

Put potatoes in a large pot, cover with cool water and set to boil. When the potatoes are soft enough to mash with only a little resistance, drain them and return to pot or mixing bowl. Put in butter, milk or cream and salt and pepper. Mash the potatoes, mixing in other ingredients as you go. Once they are mostly mashed, take a little test bite and add butter or milk if they aren't creamy enough or a bit of additional salt and pepper.

I'll be back in just a few for the salad and dessert recipes.

If you're making your grocery list, though, you'll also need a package of your favorite salad greens or raw lettuces to mix, Ken's steakhouse lite balsamic dressing, gorgonzola cheese, walnuts, 1 sm pkg mascarpone cheese, 1 pint whipping cream, powdered sugar, berries and mint.