Gravity, deadlines, and boxing

Poking my little head out from under a deadline (and like six different MS Word tabs open in my taskbar all at once; such is life!) to say: Hello! Sorry I've been scarce. I still love you.

The first part of the year is taking shape, and I think I have a pretty good idea of what it's going to look like. I am going to be writing, writing a lot. Making calls. Doing interviews. Multi-tasking. Being awesome. At home, the gravity of what we're doing is starting to sink in.

The gravity of moving. Oh, dear lord. The current plan is to initiate something called Boxing Night: one night per week Patrick and I devote to putting things in boxes and labeling them and stacking them someplace prominent so we remember to bring them to Gilbertsville. An actual Boxing Night, involving plushy gloves and a little silver bell, would be way more fun. But alas, such is life.

Fortunately for you-all, I'm smart enough to know that tales of boxing stuff up, labeling, organizing, piling up dead electronics for an e-waste recycling mission, and photos of the emerging Salvation Army Pile in the middle of our bedroom do not make good blog reading. Tales of Gilbertsville do make good reading, and I'll have more of those for you Tuesday.

But in between weekends in Gilbertsville, writing and moving. Not as blog-worthy as re-upholstering a couch, or canning peach salsa, or sewing a baby blanket. Still important, still necessary, still life.

Happy weekend, friends.

Creamy Squash Pasta

I'll admit, it might be the most glamorous thing imaginable, but it does go schlp, schlp when you squish it around on your plate. It's creamy and it's orange, it's really thrifty but somehow elegant at the same time, and it uses winter squash. It's like a very grown-up take on Kraft Mac-n-Cheese. In short, it's the perfect winter meal for a sick day, a snow day, or just a day when you feel like comfort food.

For me, the biggest plus was the incorporation of squash. I still have FOUR MASSIVE SQUASHES (butternuts) in my cellar, and it's January. Squash really starts to sound un-appealing this time of year, so I'm struggling to use these babies up. Heaven forbid some of that lovely, local, organic squash go to waste!

Oh, and before I forget, the best thing about this recipe? The abbreviation. Squashta. Try it, it's love at first sight.

Creamy Squash Pasta

2 tsp olive oil

3 cloves garlic, minced

4 oz cream cheese

1/2 tsp dried thyme

1/2 tsp dried sage

1 tsp freshly ground black pepper

2 cups pureed winter squash flesh (from approximately 1 medium baked squash)

1/2-3/4 cup toasted walnuts OR roasted salted pumpkin seeds

1 pound cooked pasta of your choice

Warm the oil in the bottom of a fairly large pot. Saute the garlic until lightly brown, then add the cream cheese and seasonings. Keep the heat fairly low to prevent scorching. Stir until the cream cheese is melted and smooth, then add the squash puree. If desired, add a splash of water, milk, or vegetable broth for a thinner sauce. Toss in the walnuts/pumpkin seeds and the pasta, stir, and serve. Makes four generous servings.

Variations: I'm not going to lie. I stole this idea from a Weight Watchers recipe I found online. I liked the idea of blending the squash into a pasta sauce, but scorned scorned scorned the idea of making a "cream sauce" from skim milk and FLOUR. That's what Weight Watchers decreed. And I said, Pah!, because one of my cardinal food rules is: cream sauces should contain cream. I don't have a lot of hard-and-fast food rules, but that one ain't budgin'.

I liked the cream cheese version very much-- it was creamy but still fairly virtuous--but if you'd like to try something different, I suppose a whole range of different dairy products would work. Greek yogurt springs to mind, though I bet nonfat yogurt would work, too (maybe simmered with a little flour to thicken it up). Whole milk would be fine, and of course if we really wanted to get decadent, heavy cream would be divine.

Between this recipe and a batch of "Pumpkin" Muffins (har har, what a fine and sneaky pumpkin-substitute squash makes!), I dispatched the largest of my cellar dwellers. Anyone have any brilliant disappearing-squash recipes out there for me to try?

Hand cramps and other stories

• Painted dining room? Check.
• Hooked up electric hot water heater to downstairs pipes? Check.
• Pulled carpet in another bedroom? Check.
• Traced an entire wall of teeny petals and leaves and little stemmy bits? Cheeeee-ck.

To whit:

It was, as I expected, tricky. It was not unbearable. Since it took me essentially the entire weekend to do one wall (but it was the biggest wall!) it was nice to have company. Patrick's parents joined us Saturday: Dad assisting with the plumbing hoo-ha, Mom getting the first coat of paint on the dining room. Both joining us for lentil soup and wine at the end of the workday.

The tracing went pretty well. Overhead projectors are unwieldy and cantankerous. Projection stretches the image in places, contracts it in others. Focusing was difficult. Corners were difficult. I found ways to compensate for the difficulties, and subtle "cheats" I could use to deal with the stretch.

Hand cramps abounded. I wore my white colored pencil (tracing tool of choice) down to a stumpy little nub. I got really sick of my limited CD rotation. But, it worked.

Of course, actually painting the thing is a whole other set of hurdles. My plan is to leave this thing on the back burner for a little while (maybe a month?) while we address more important projects. You know, like painting floors and walls and ceilings. Maybe even doing a bathroom. Also, Patrick's new band is booking spring weekend gigs fast and furious, and I'm going to need something engrossing for those evenings he's away.

So, I'm giving it a little time. My next step is going to be filling in the tracing I did on this one wall. I'm going to try and get a wall finished (and see how long THAT takes me!) before I embark on another. That way, if I want to stop after one wall, I can.

How long did it take Michaelangelo to paint the Sistine Chapel? Hmm.

The other proud accomplishment of the weekend was getting a few pieces of furniture moved in. Moving the fold-out (which I re-upholstered last year) was another job for The Guys. I tried lifting it into the truck on Friday, and have the bruises to prove it. Did I used to be stronger, or has furniture just gotten heavier?

Your thoughts welcome!

Second thoughts

The car is packed. The overhead projector is perched on the backseat like an awkward swan, awaiting its debut. I'm biting my nails, and not because of the snow.

When I revealed this plan to you all on Wednesday, I was actually feeling pretty good about it. Sure, I thought, it'll take awhile. It won't be easy. But I can do it. And then I began to get comments. On Facebook and on the blog, comments that contained the words crazy, overly ambitious, insane. When pal 'o my heart and veteran bridesmaid Stephanie wrote I'm scared for you, I really started to worry.

And even my mom expressed concerns. It's a good rule of thumb in life: when your mom expresses concerns, LISTEN UP. If your mom, the one person in the entire universe who's supposed to have faith in your abilities beyond all reason DOESN'T HAVE FAITH IN YOUR ABILITIES, pay attention.

I should probably listen. But there's that projector in my backseat, and my transparency, and my PLAN, and, aw hell, I'm going for it anyway. Live free or bust, right?

Update Monday.

Wallpaper and womanly fortitude.

This is the big house project for the coming weekend. I wrote about this wallpaper here, and how much I love it, and how I couldn't afford it but am getting the same effect. How I plan to turn my room into a giant paint-by number.

I toted my beloved wallpaper to Kinko's last night, and they made me an overhead transparency. You know, old school. Think eighth grade history class. I am picking up my rented overhead projector on Friday. I really really hope this goes well. I hope it works. The tricky part is going to be matching up the repeats, so it all looks like one cohesive design. "Tricky" may be a brash understatement.

Supplies so far:

Wallpaper sample, $2.70

Overhead transparency, $4.34

Projector rental, $15

Paint and brushes (used a gift card), free.

Now, to trace a blue million tiny little petals and leaves and little stemmy bits and stamens and petals and more leaves and...

If you never hear from me again, you know where to find me. In Gilbertsville. With an overhead projector. Squinting at the walls.

Aptly begun

It was a good New Year's Eve. I find they're either really fun, or they're terrible. There's no midway. But this one was good.

I got to watch Patrick rock out with his newest band, Tim Herron Corporation. There was a big crowd, and a lot of them were singing along. I got to join another tribe of band wives, which is by far the best part about being married to a musician. Band wives are some of the cutest, most interesting folks imaginable.

Saturday, there were omelettes for brunch, and a five hour ride home. Phew.

And once we got home, we decided that since we weren't sleeping or eating or working or attending any social events the following day, we should spend that day in Gilbertsville. Is that any big surprise?

So we drove the hour out to the house, and settled into work. The trim is almost done. The trim is almost done. I AM REALLY SICK OF TRIM. The front room, sitting room, and great room have required three coats of trim paint. That's nine windows, eight doors (front and back) and several miles of baseboards. Fortunately, the dining room (shown above: one window, six door-frames, four doors) requires only one coat. Phew.

It was an altogether fitting start to 2011. How did you spend yours?

The Year in Review

Dear 2010,

You were awesome. Seriously. I mean, 2006 was cool and all-- yeah, I met a pretty decent guy that year-- but you were better. This year I got to buy a house with that pretty decent guy, and go camping, and hear him introduce me as my wife, a writer, and we found a chicken in the snow!

You rock.

Sincerely,

Kristina

2010 dawned direction-less and a little desperate, truth be told. I was proud of (and have always been proud of) how we love and how we live. But the holy trinity of successful adult-hood is supposed to be: home, relationship, career. At least in this part of the world. This time last year, I was mired in indecision, trying to determine what on earth I wanted to be when I grew up. In 2008, I wanted to have a blockbuster Etsy shop. In 2009, I dabbled in starting a lettuce farm. And then early in 2010 I remembered--duh!-- that I've really always wanted to be a writer. How did that fact escape me?

The story of how I started writing--for money!-- for the first time in my life is wrapped up in the story of our new house. It was May when the offer we'd made was accepted, June when I spilled the beans about the place. In between, there were two weeks of rabidly trolling Gilbertsville job-boards, coming to the worrisome conclusion that there are approximately zero jobs I am qualified for/have opportunity for advancement in/actually like in the area. Corollary to that, pacing and fretting and nail-biting. I needed something I could do anywhere, that I was good at. And then I remembered that I could write.

And I immediately walked inside and checked out my favorite freelance writing job board, and 48 hours later I was a writer for a sustainability website.

It was a deliciously thrilling 48 hours.

The writing isn't paying any bills for the moment (at least not any major ones), but there is a future in it. What I've found is someone I work well with, a company I believe in, and work I enjoy doing. My fingers are pretty tightly crossed that by the end of 2011, it'll be paying bills for me, as well.

I also wrote an article for Edible Fingerlakes this year, and saw it published. I'd love to share it here, but for the time being if you'd like to read it you'll have to buy an issue. I'm going to have an article in the spring issue, as well.

All this has given me the temerity to say, Hello, World! I'm a writer now! It's the words I've been wanting to say my whole entire life.

Okay, I'm going to stop crowing now. I mean it.

2011 is going to be a year of work. Painting work and wiring work and plumbing work, garden work and yard work and kitchen work, writing work and more writing work. It is going to be a year of tight finances, but we are level to that task. It is also going to be a year of joy. We have arrived at the place, that place we've wanted since our beginning. Our place of community, for putting down roots. 2010 gave us direction, and from here it's forward, ho!