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Archive for July 2013

I’m Not Sexy. And I Know It {a gardening cautionary tale}

By Sue · Comments (13) · July 25th, 2013

Author’s Note:  This is a rerun of a post that I wrote in 2012.  As I am currently at BlogHer 2013…and have just recovered from a nasty rash…I thought it timely as well as necessary to repost.  Enjoy.

I get a kick out of yard work.  I mean, really.  Have you read my Who is this Woman page?  Or seen my “Dig It” board on Pinterest?

Yeah.  I’m a digging, weeding, perennial-planting, dirt-loving fool.

My groom counts himself as fortunate to have a lawn boy and bride all rolled into one unpaid package. He suggests that the lawn needs mowing?  And I’m all, “Oooh, nooo!  Puh-LEASE don’t throw me in that briar patch, Brer Groom!”

Then with, a giggle, off I traipse to my own little slice of Heaven.

So, this past Saturday, with the sun beating down and a gentle breeze rustling the poplars bordering our property, I was completely in my element as I made my way to the back yard to finish the mowing.  Sassy thing that I am, I took off my tank top and finished the job in my swimsuit top and shorts.  I felt alive.  Strong.  Dare I say…sexy.

*cue LMFAO’s latest hit*

LMFAO

Grass clippings are sexy. And we know it.

Yes.  I felt sexy in my Athleta swimsuit top and board shorts as I pushed the mower around the yard in a precise pattern of zig-zags, dodging dog-do when I came across a spot that I had missed during my pre-mowing scoop session.

But all sexy things must come to an end, friends.

For me?  It happened when I finished the mowing, put the Toro away in the garage, and returned to the back yard with my groom’s weed whacker in hand.

Do any of you female friends know how to use a weed whacker?

Oh, stop gloating.  Because the thing scares the living daylights out of me.  But I wanted to finish the job, so I fiddled with the knobs on the handle until the machine roared to life.

And that?  Was where the sexy evaporated.  When I step out of myself for a moment and recall the ordeal from a third person perspective, my mind’s eye witnesses a scene that could best be compared to Seinfeld’s Cosmo Kramer guest starring in The Texas Chainsaw Massacre.  That piece of machinery took my swimsuit-clad self on a wild goose chase around the perimeter of my yard that still gives me the shakes when I think about it.  I shimmied my way around, power tool in hand, lopping off random sections of overgrown grass, as well as occasional clumps of daisies and moss roses when the whacker careened out of control.

My teeth chattered.

My knees knocked together.

There were parts of me jiggling that no one should have to see jiggling on a woman my age.

So I put the wretched power tool away, cussing under my breath, and decided to pull a few weeds instead.

Because, unlike weed whacking, weeding by hand is sexy.

*restart LMFAO soundtrack*

LMFAO

Hush, garden girl. And hand me that trowel.

 

I weeded the Dickens out of my flower beds.

Two hours later, as I sat on my back patio, MGD 64 at my side, admiring my handiwork, I glanced down and noticed a smattering of teenytiny red bumps forming a semicircle just below my rib cage.

Mysterious gardening-induced allergic reactions are not sexy, friends.

And neither was the speed with which this reaction proceeded to spread across my entire torso, arms, and legs.  Nor was how it crept up toward my face, threatening to squinch my eyeballs shut and leave me looking like something out of Mad Magazine – HGTV Edition.

Furthermore?  A trip to the dermatologist and a prescription for rash-combatting oral steroids and oatmeal baths are not sexy either.  Much like flesh-hiding cowboy boots and cardigan sweaters on a sweltering day in Chicagoland are unsexy.

So here I sit, in my boots and cardigan, at my kitchen table in front of my laptop, hopped up on oral steroids on a picture-perfect afternoon at the end of May.

Outside, the sun beams.  Birds chirp.  The yard beckons.

And I tell it to shut the flippin-flap up.

Comments (13)

Let’s FEAST!

By Sue · Comments (29) · July 18th, 2013

Disclosure: I received compensation from Feast for writing this post. All opinions are most definitely my own.

Do you cook?

Well.  Bully for you.  I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: I’m not much of a chef.

I’ve tried. Really, I have.  Years ago, I took a series of cooking classes that were taught by a woman that looked like so:

1 Snob Woman

Source

Who, when I asked the most basic of questions, gave me answers like so:

filepicker-sUCZIgDHQTKreXrg0RxL_ain-t-nobody-got-time-fo-dat-sweet-brown-31241125-480-330

Source

Yeah.  You can probably guess how those classes went over.  And I’ve had an irrational fear of organized cooking lessons {referred to in culinary therapy circles as IFOOCL} ever since.

All the same, I was intrigued when introduced to Feast, an online cooking resource that claims that anyone can learn to cook.

Anyone?

Online?

In the privacy of my own home?

I furtively agreed to give Feast a test run, knowing that if things went awry, I could always drown my sorrows with a glass or four of  Cabernet and an evening of Feast bashing on Twitter.

It was my intent to have Twin A help me on this little project.  She? Is a little chef in the making. Remember?

But alas, Twin A has been away at camp this week.  Without my little Betty Crocker, I looked around the homestead and fixed my attention upon the boys.

“Guys! Let’s cook!” I exhorted in the most enthusiastic intonation I could muster.

They made themselves scarce until I hog tied coaxed them back to the kitchen with the promise that we would be using my laptop to learn.  I’ve found that my Cherubs can be talked into anything with the allure of a keyboard and wifi dangling in front of them like a proverbial carrot.

We began with Feast’s seven day crash course.  It’s free when you sign up…why not, right?

Day One was entitled “How to Use Your Tongue.” There were no R-rated shenanigans…just a brief lesson in trusting your instincts and playing with flavors in your spice drawer.

Mexican Spices

After some blind taste-testing, The Small One found that he had an affinity for Mexican spices…

Ginger

…paired with ginger. My IFOOCL flared up a bit when I saw this, but the lesson was about trusting our palates, so I rolled with it.

So far, so good.

We then moved on to Day Two, where the most basic of basics was covered:  How to Hold and Use a Knife.

This is the point at which I began to fall in love with Feast.  Within minutes, My twelve year-old Twin B was wielding a knife like a pro and chopping up vegetables for in preparation for Day Three.

Diced Potato

Am I the only person on the planet that didn’t know that this is the correct way to chop? Fingers and thumb of the non-cutting hand behind the blade serving as a guide.

Diced Potatoes

Purty. Or as purty as raw diced spuds can be, anyway.

On Days Three and Four, entitled “How to Cook Everything” and “Order of Operations,” we were challenged to use our preferred spice combinations along with the veggies that we had chopped and saved in order to prepare a simple dish.

Cute Puppies

You are now so smitten with this image of cute puppies that you have completely forgotten that there was to be a picture of spicy sauteed potatoes here. Let’s just say that Gwen the rescued Foxhound-Beagle Mix kept me away from the stove for 15 minutes, during which time the poor potatoes had our smoke alarm singing. This is no fault of Feast’s.

Day Four’s lesson was about How to Fix Broken Dishes.  And no, it did not involve superglue…it was a series of quick-fixes for food disasters.

Chili too spicy?  Feast has an answer for that.

Sauce too runny?  They’ve got that covered, too.

Unburning diced potatoes?  Dude.  They’re not magicians.  But still…I have printed out these fixes and tucked them into my recipe box for quick reference.  I love how Feast readily admits that things can and very well may go awry. Such is the nature of the cooking beast.

The rest of the series was equally applicable:  Sexy Food and The Final Project challenged us to create palatable looking dishes as well as to take on one of the recipes from their online recipe book.

Feast’s crash course put my mind at ease and made my tragic case of IFOOCL nothing but an unpleasant memory and an unsavory acronym.

Now…if you’re a bit more advanced than I? Feast has online recipe tutorials that would impress even the snobbiest of food snobs.

Fire Roasting

Fire Roasting

Seared Steak

Searing the Perfect Steak

All presented in an extremely palatable, non-threatening, often hilarious format.

Want to get your Feast on?

Of course you do.  Sign up for the free Crash Course here…

And use the following code to receive an enrollment discount  on any of their already modestly priced recipe lessons:  spincycle50

Before you go, tell me in a comment, please:  Have you taken cooking classes before? If so, how did they go over?

Comments (29)

Ushering in the Chaos

By Sue · Comments (29) · July 11th, 2013

Happy Thursday, friends.Return Flight Home

And a happy one it is.

This time tomorrow? I’ll be bound for Chicago.  After 32 days in Silicon Valley with Sverve at 500 Startups, I’m going home for good.  It’s amazing to think of all that I’ve done during my time here.

I met my Sverve team in person.  Up until 500S, we had been relegated to Skype conversations and email correspondence.  They are a quality crew full of imagination and with an incredible work ethic.

I co-hosted an event for Bay Area Influencers including big blogging deals like Jadah of Simple Green Smoothies, Maya of MemeTales, Rachelle of TinkerLab and Chrissy, The Outlaw Mom.  I so look forward to reconnecting with Maya and Chrissy in just a couple of weeks at BlogHer Chicago.

I emceed two Sverve webinars for presenters Gigi of KludgyMom and Tiffany of BloggyMoms.  They are both class acts that I also can’t wait to see at BlogHer.

I have learned more about Search Engine Optimization than I ever thought I’d care to know, thanks to the fabulous Vanita of The Strategic Mama.  During my after hours and by following her sage advice, I have reworked every post on this site and improved its Alexa Ranking dramatically.

I launched SverveBlog’s Influencer of the Week series.

I have had a hand in increasing Sverve’s influencer membership by 20 per cent.

I have met entrepreneurs from the world over.  This batch of  500 Startups is particularly international and makes me wish that my own language repertoire featured more than English, French, and Pig Latin. Ammitday.

And while I wouldn’t change any of these experiences for the world, I cannot wait to get home.  Being here has not come without a price.

Because, friends?

I’ve learned something about myself on this trip.  As much as I love my peace and quiet and order?

I need some degree of chaos in my life.

I have missed digging into my shoulder bag for my wallet and coming up with a handful of The Small One’s origami creations.

I’m overthinking everything.  I do my best writing when I have set a microwave timer for three-zero-zero-zero-start and allowed myself a mere half an hour of composition time before heading off to pick up Twin A from volleyball camp or theater practice or a friends house or what have you.

I’m not tired enough when I go to bed.  The culprit:  Twin B is not around to meander into my room with questions about God and Heaven and Science and Creation and Why Do You Love Me So Much, Mom?

Furthermore, I need my groom interrupting my evening work sessions by raising an eyebrow at me when I’ve kept my laptop open for entirely to long.  I need him to tell me to shut it down already and call it a night.

I need the embrace of a dear friend who has received an ugly medical prognosis and who needs as much love as my tired arms and aching heart are capable of squeezing out.

This…this, my friends…

Is the stuff of which memories are built.

And I’ve missed quite enough memory building, thankyouverymuch.

It’s time to go home and get myself knee-deep in some chaos.

See you in Chicago.

Comments (29)

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