Journal ~ Chicken Florentine Lasagna

The night before last, hubby and I were looking through the cooking sites that he has on his Flipboard App. We watched several short YouTube clips demonstrating how to make delicious meals that looked simple enough. One in particular caught his eye, so I asked him to send me the link. I didn't say whether I was going to make it soon or keep it for later. And I have to admit, that I was feeling a bit guilty about the fact that two cans of cream of soup of our choice were part of the recipe. Was this healthy? Were we being bad? I wasn't sure if I could go through with it. 

Later yesterday morning, I had to make a pit stop at Target. I walked by the tea isle and saw canned soups calling out to me. I saw the ones that deem they are the healthier choice. I looked at the sodium content. Not too bad. I grabbed a cream of mushroom and cream of chicken and tossed them into the basket. The decision had been made.

I knew that I would still need to pick up the remaining ingredients when the work day was done. I've always loved eating pasta dishes with Ricotta cheese, but I've never actually prepared any with it, so I had to figure out which section to find it in. I thought it would be near the deli cheeses, but no, of course not. It was with the cottage cheese and such.

It also dawned on me after the meal was cooked that this was the first lasagna that I've ever prepared. I had always been nervous to even think of taking on lasagna myself, thinking that it seemed too complicated. 

It also became apparent to me that being back in the kitchen wholeheartedly is good medicine for me. It teaches me that I don't need to be afraid any longer, that I can do this. And one of the beauties is that it doesn't matter how simple it may seem, if it's new to me and I have these feelings of insecurity–what matters is I work through it, that I go through the process–and I love process! 

Cooking has always been a part of my life and has been a stop-and-go adventure. And lately, I feel that with each meal that I prepare, with each new cooking adventure, I become that much more confident in other areas of my life.

Chicken Florentine Lasagna - with yoyomax12 

http://flip.it/lyggj

Today ~ Remembrance

Today is a day

that marks endings,

and beginnings–

of life pulsing its way through

and of life exiting with a swift burst.

Today is a quiet day,

and also a day to be grateful.

Today will always have a quiet sadness,

and a quiet happiness.

Today will always be a mystery for the

significance of the endings and beginnings

that it marks.

Journal ~ Writing Practice

I feel that I've been doing a good job so far when it comes to showing up to the page. Last week was a great week of colorful dreams. One in particular that I jotted down and drew as best I could. That got me inspired to bring my art box out of the garage, but it's still in the living room, waiting to have the contents taken out. I want to re-draw a portion of my dream–luckily it's not complicated–and add color and bring it to life. Even while I was dreaming, I told myself not to forget the image.

Without putting pressure or deadlines on myself, I told myself that I would like to show up to my blog journal during the week, and possibly the weekend if time allows. For me, this is also part of showing up. But most important, is if I show up at all, whether on my personal journal or my blog journal.

I feel that I started turning my back on writing, allowing it to slip away because I was switching the emphasis to work, to my class–but then I realized I was missing one of my passions–I wasn't being true to myself, and I was feeling that void. Maybe these were excuses, self-sabotage...that's why I always go back to my writing books, the ones that remind me to keep going. Even though I can tell myself the same thing, it's always nice to have someone who has lived through the stop-and-go for much longer and offer their personal stories and wisdom. 

Reading certain writing books is like meditation for me. 

One of the other things I like about writing is that in some ways, just as I face a blank page every day, it can really feel like that–like a new beginning every single day, every single moment. A blank page can be humbling. Even if we've been writing in our journals for years and years, tinkering with poems, haikus, short stories, what have you; for me there is always the opportunity for learning something new and growing, whether it's evident on the page or only within.

And there will always 

be something new to learn 

about writing, 

about life, 

about myself.

A long time ago, when I received low marks on an English paper in my early days of community college some 20 years ago, I told myself then that despite the bad marks and condescending tone of the teacher, I would make it my goal to master writing. And I've been at it ever since.

Writing is a life-long process; that is the beauty. 

I love that as long as I keep my pen moving, 

in writing and in doodling, 

I will write and write and write–

until death do we part.

Child's Gaze

Child's gaze–

Stopped 

by the merry go round music. 

When the music stops. 

He is back.  

Box of Ideas & A Quote to Live By

A few months back, I watched a two-part documentary on Woody Allen. I feel like watching it again because I know there are bits that I missed–what can I say, I like Woody, he's a highly talented and prolific writer, and he makes me laugh. The part in the movie that plays over and over in my head, though, is when he's sitting on his bed, going through a box of his writing snippets, just pieces of paper, maybe a napkin or two, and as he goes through his box of collected ideas, he remembers and tells us about them and which one's eventually grew from those snippets into something bigger. What also stuck out is that everyone loved working with him. And he seemed to have an instinct for how to bring out the best in the actors working for him, which translated onto camera.

Woody's box of ideas reminded me of how important it is for creative's, no matter what medium they work in, to write their ideas down. But not just to write them down, to go back, to flip through, thumb through–to sift out the ideas that can be worked on and brought to life.

I have snippets, collected ideas scribbled in many notebooks, half-thoughts jotted on several devices in the notes App, full drafts that need attention before bringing to the page. 

Now, the sifting must begin. 

**

My second-favorite quote of the year speaks to that feeling inside of us that stops us from being who we are or doing what we love:

"It's never too late, in fiction or in life, to revise."

–Nancy Thayer

Writing and Books: Breakfast, Lunch, and Dinner

On Sunday I had a patch of time to myself, about an hour and a half before hubby returned from his errand, and we went out and about together. I could have studied, could have read, cleaned. Instead, I felt a pull to the garage to organize boxes of books. There were many empty boxes that were scattered, that made it look as though there was more clutter than there actually was. 

I started breaking down the empty boxes, then I began looking through the boxes of books, tying again to find more books to let go of. I was able to find two small boxes full of books that I felt it was time to part with, books that I knew I wasn't going to read, that had a time and place in my life, and I would only keep transporting them from home to home, possibly not giving them a proper home for themselves, confining my dear books to these lifeless boxes. It was time for these books to find new homes. 

I was also able to consolidate some books to other boxes, marking them so that I would easily be able to find what I was looking for if the urge arose. Also, to hubby's dismay, because I would only be brining more clutter into the house, I brought two boxes of books inside. I put them in the living room and waiting for him to scold me. I told him I would find a place for them. The living room was off limits. I know how I can be, so the next morning I unpacked the boxes, stacked the books on my side of the bed to deal with later that day. I don't have any more shelf space, so I added to the stack in the corner on top of the small desk that I don't' actually use, and the rest are stacked in front of that stack. I really didn't bring all that many books back into the house. I don't like packing the boxes too heavy. In fact, I've let go of a lot of books. It's bitter sweet; at the same time it feels good to let go of these books that have been there for me, that have brought me joy–even the books that I never got around to reading all the way through. Now, they can bring someone else happiness when they're browsing the shelves of the local thrift store.  

Each time I'm ready, I will continue looking through my boxes of books, tying to let go of more. Eventually, I will be left with only a few that I cannot part with–at least, not until I'm ready.

Yesterday before work, I went to the top section of a long shelf that shares books with clothes. It's where I keep some of my inspirational writing books. I pulled from the shelf: One Continuous Mistake: Four Noble Truths for Writers by Gail Sher. Then I went to the bottom section of the shelf where I keep the few books I have on poetry. I pulled Mary Oliver's New and Selected Poems: Volume One. With these in hand, I read a few pages from each to start my day. I love how Gail Sher describes writing. She says, "Writing is infinite, ever elusive, and ungraspable. We can never know what writing is. We can only know our experience minute to minute, as we write" (pg. 6). I nodded my head with a big smile as I read over her words again. She sums it up perfectly, and that's one of the many reasons I love writing for the constant discovery that writing offers, as long as we keep our pens moving and our minds free.

I've only dipped sparingly into Mary Oliver's poetry. I've had her book for several years, but as with certain books, I go at them at different paces. I'm ready to visit longer. What little of her poetry I have read, it is so incredibly beautiful and touches my soul.

During a break at work I wrote and posted "Small Slice of Solace." 

Writing and books are often on my mind throughout the day, sometimes they slip away, but yesterday, it seemed there was a constant stream.

After work, I was ready to visit Barnes & Noble and use my gift card that I've been hanging on to for the right moment. I was pretty confident that I would be walking out of there with a cookbook, but I didn't even feel pulled to that section. I almost purchased a small light that is supposed to create calm. Where I really wanted to go was to the writing section. There's just something about writing books that I adore. I love hearing inspirational stories and words of wisdom from writing books. I wasn't looking for any one book. I sat on the floor and started looking through the possibilities. I saw a book that I had checked out of the library that I never finished  before returning it: Several Short Sentences about Writing by Verlyn Klinkenborg. I remember it being a fun book with a unique approach and it really is as the title suggests. Next I saw a book that I hadn't seen before or maybe I had and wasn't interested at the time: Around the Writer's Block: Using Brain Science to Solve Writer's Resistance*

*Including Writer's Block, Procrastination, Paralysis, Perfectionism, Postponing, Distractions, Self-Sabotage, Excessive Criticism, Overscheduling, and Endlessly Delaying Your Writing

by Rosanne Bane.

Now how could I resist a title like that!

I think I'm really going to like this one. I've only just begun and I feel ignited.

And so, these were the two books that I chose.

Yesterday was a full course of reading, writing, books, and nature. I felt refreshed, inspired, rejuvenated.  

Small Slice of Solace

Dew drops glisten on tufts of grass.

Tiny clear jewels, they sparkle and glisten. 

Birch trees canopy the surrounding grass, familiar ghosts upon this land. 

Water gurgles from the fountain. 

Cars whizz by. A blue bird rests upon a branch, he flies away. 

A small slice of solace to this noisy day.