Sometimes the people I know awe me. And often for relatively insignificant reasons. Clay seems to upload photos to flickr every day. I think he takes pictures every day. Which means while I am knitting on my couch watching HGTV (it's back, dear merciful lord, it's back), he's out somewhere taking pictures and uploading them (not to mention editing them). I'd like to be the kind of person who does that.
All the food blogs I read, those people make things every day. Then they photograph what they made, edit and upload the photos, etc. etc. I think several of them have day jobs. Yet they take the time to make Meyer lemon pots de creme with basil syrup (actually, I don't know if anyone made that, but I'd like to). It is true, with Defatification 2010 in full effect I wouldn't be able to eat more than a bite of my Meyer lemon pots de creme with basil syrup and then I'd be left with, presumably, eight ramekins of the stuff and do the neighbors really want it?, but in the end, I'd like to be the kind of person who makes pastry more.
Devoted partner and I have traveled a bit in our lives together. These have been some of our happiest times. And I always wanted to be the kind of person who kept beautiful, detailed travel journals. After all, I like writing, surely I could be bothered to keep travel journals. And I tried. Once. On our first trip together. I made it about three-four weeks, and then just got stopped. I was too concerned with how the writing sounded and less concerned with what the writing was about.
I'd hate to think I'm just lazy.
But wait. There is a silver lining. I vowed to stop buying packaged foods, especially of the cookie variety. I reasoned that if I wanted a cookie badly enough, I wanted it enough to make it myself. This has been a mostly successful enterprise. Not nearly as successful, though, as the ice cream thing. I upgraded my ice cream maker about four years ago to a prosumer model that doesn't require freezing a bowl. It's not that the machine was wildly expensive, in fact I got a great deal on a refurbished model, it was more that if I was going to commit to the machinery, I should commit to making the ice cream. In the time that I have owned the machine, I have not bought ice cream. I am the kind of person who makes her own ice cream
I am also the kind of person who gets, on average, five dinners a week on the table. They're not glorious meals a la Peter, who I secretly hope is lying about the amazing meals he cooks his family because otherwise the stir fry I plop in front of devoted partner is sadly lacking, but I cook and it's generally good for us.
And after years of abject failure, I recently became the kind of person who finishes knitting projects. Fearful though I was about how the pieces would look once assembled, I bit the bullet and now you may even see me wearing something I made (well of course I'm going to wear it, it was expensive and time consuming to make dammit!).
And, apologies to Martha, those are good things.
1 week ago