No thank you, Culinary School of Cobb Webs

In my quest to become America's Next Top Best Chef I've been exploring some institutes of culinary education. I figured cooking schools were the most logical place for me to start my quest for knowledge about cuisine so I found myself online requesting information, registering for weekend workshops and taking tours.

The last tour of a rather well renown establishment just left me feeling raw. In fact, when the admissions agent called me this week to inquire about why I hadn't returned to complete the enrollment process I had to dig real deep not to scream and hang up.

As it is, I'd tried to block this particular evening I spent at the Culinary School of Cobb Webs out of my mind, but her call just rehashed the incident so I may as well share:

I arrived on time for a 5 o'clock appointment and find myself waiting in a muggy lobby for about 20 minutes. It felt like the air condition was set on Auto Steam. So it smelled more like a locker room than a cooking school, but I thought, well, this is the lobby. I'm sure it's pristine beyond those double doors. The kitchens MUST be spotless.

As I waited, I noticed some ornate sugar sculptures on display in glass cases, beautiful, really, except for the fine coating of dust that lined the cases and sculptures. I think: "Self, this is just their lobby"

Suddenly the young lady who called me to set up this appointment comes out to greet me, she's wearing a low cut dress with a hem line well above her knees. I could tell right away she was an avid smoker. I hate the smell of cigarette smoke.

She ushers me beyond a pair of glass doors, down a hall and into a room, then she immediately excuses herself to get soda. I'm casing the room and I see cobb webs lining the floor-to-ceiling window frame. In fact, underneath the tables is a thick layer of dust.

Then she returned with a bevy of questions and showed me a Power Point presentation. As she's forwarding the slide show, I realize - I'm HOT. I'm sweating enough to make my shirt start clinging to my arm pits and back.

I'm disgusted.

She takes me through the halls and stops at each classroom to explain in great detail the curriculum. I'm distracted. I see dust, old food that she refers to as student "projects" left out and it smells like my daughters preschool after the kids have just come in from running around outside.

I
AM
READY
To
GO!!

Eventually I got out of there. I won't ever go back.

Joy in the Morning

My daily routine has been upturned, altered, disrupted. For the last three years, it's primarily been my husband's responsibility to get our daughter off to day care in the morning. I picked her up in the afternoon. That's the way we rolled, unless Daddy was out of town, but recently Daddy's erratic work schedule has Mommy (a.k.a. me) pulling both shifts.

It's been a hard adjustment. I'm used to getting up and getting myself ready in utter silence, then pulling out of the garage with just enough minutes left to make it to work on time. But suddenly I have the pleasure of tantrums and mood swings in the morning. All from a pint-sized assailant. She's not used to getting up as early as I do so she's rather delirious and unreasonable when I turn on the lights and crank up Arthur on PBS.

She doesn't want to wake up or get dressed. She's never quite satisfied with the ensemble I've selected and very vocal about the matter. After a few weeks of foolishness I pushed her bedtime up, thinking if she was more rested, she'd be calmer. Although she woke up more easily, the wardrobe was still a problem. I'd find the outfits I selected tossed aside and her digging through her drawers for something else. So I just stopped trying to pick out her clothes for her. At first, I'll admit, I fought it with statements like:

"No, you can't wear that shirt, I already put this shirt out for you."

"Baby, those shoes are not appropriate for April, you can only wear boots in the winter, it's too hot for those now."

And I'd win the little battle and lose the war as she squirmed, mumbled, grimaced and dragged her mommy-coordinated self sluggishly all the way downstairs, into the car and to the day care.

Then, one morning, I just gave in. I let my 3-year-old wear skinny jeans, furry snow boots and a light weight yellow blouse, accented with a faux fur-collared sweater.

The minute I said, "Fine what shoes do YOU want to wear?" Her face lit up and she picked out the boots and matching furry sweater. Who cares that it was 70 degrees that day? She beamed all the way to school. It was a victory.

Since then she's been making her own wardrobe choices and it's really very entertaining. Most days she wears lace church socks and her hair bows are misaligned, but she's happy and I'm amused. Which means we both get a little joy in the morning.

Pretty Wings...

I'm a little obsessed, excited and impatient right now. Maxwell's new single is making me crazy. This song has cast a spell on me and it won't be broken until his album Black Summer's Night is released on July 7.

Now we're cooking

Okay, so I know this seems sudden, but I catered my first event yesterday. In fact, I'm so excited about it I can hardly sleep. It's actually just a few minutes after midnight.

Anywho, I learned during this event that I could really get used to this. I'll fess up that it wasn't a paying gig and the client is my mother-in-law, but her bookclub - a complete group of strangers - ate everything. They each deliberately consumed every morsel on their plates. A few even went back for seconds. That felt good. These weren't friends or family members, these were some women I'd never seen in my life, but they earnestly enjoyed the meal.

What's more important is that I enjoyed doing it. This could be the start of something good.

Wakeup Call

Something happened to me the other weekend. I took a 3-day culinary basics workshop that has ignited change. For months, I've been day dreaming about cooking on a professional level. I do enough of it in my personal life to know I like it and that others like it too. I blog about it, read about it and watch shows about it. Cooking has become my thing. Or maybe it's been my thing all along but I was too distracted by life to realize it until now.

Cooking had become so much a part of the routine that I wasn't even conscious of the joy, the peace, the excitement it brought me anymore. As soon as I became a mother, everything in my life seemed to run on autopilot. I just continued running through the steps: wake up, get ready for work, shuffle papers, head home, retrieve child, cook dinner, bath time, bed time and REPEAT. Everything was so routine, mundane and conventional, with the exception of what I was creating in the kitchen. During the summer of 2008, I became acutely aware of that fullness I was finding each night toiling over my Kenmore. It would return whenever I entertained at parties or took a dish to work.

That's when I began looking for outlets. I toured a culinary school and was consumed with longing. But alas, culinary school costs a small fortune and maybe this is just phase, right? I'd better sleep on it. I did and after standing under the tutelage of trained chefs for 3 days I'm awake!

Phase I of Backyard Oasis is Complete

I finished excavating the land that will soon hold my stone patio. I'll be heading to Lowe's within the next week to collect the necessary pavers and stuff. I'm so proud and relieved. It was some authentic hard labor that took me through a wide range of emotions.

There were good times, like when I found a wheelbarrow for 20 bucks, and when my daughter told me how happy she was making mud brownies.

Then there were the bad times when my hand was so sore from gripping that shovel it hurt to use my mouse, hold my cell phone or use them at all really. I had to put myself on a Motrin drip to keep a steady flow of ibuprofen in my blood stream.

And I'd be remissed if I didn't mention the rain! Who could forget the rain? It came down for 3 days straight, took a day off and came down for 2 more days. But I can't complain. It gave me a valid excuse to rest my weary body and ultimately softened the ground, which made today's digging almost effortless.

And for all that I dedicate this song to my project!

That's what friends are for

I woke up with such joy in my spirit today and on my drive in to work I felt overcome with appreciation. Tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be a year older and with each day I feel more content with my life as it is, not the way it could be, should be or would have been, if only...

I celebrated the upcoming life anniversary with my closest friends on Saturday. I hosted a brunch and spoiled them with my signature Shrimp & Grits, some biscuits slathered in homemade cinnamon butter and strawberry mimosas. It was cold and dreary outside, but inside we were warmed by each others' company.

Toward the end of the afternoon when just three friends remained I started to open the gift bags that had collected in the dining room. I genuinely have parties just for the company. The camaraderie and quality time with my loved ones is enough for me. So the presents are just indulgent! But my friends picked perfect gifts. Things that were simple, inexpensive and extremely ME. I thought to myself: "They know me so well!" But that happens when you value the quality of your friendships more than the quantity.

Operation Backyard Oasis is a go

When we were house hunting, I insisted we buy a house with a yard, preferably a deck. What I got was a huge yard with a privacy fence around it, no extras. I like to entertain and I think it's just cool to eat, sit, drink and BE outside. However, when there is nothing but grass outside, the BEING becomes less appealing. As a result, we've been living in a house with a massive yard for 4 years now and I'm almost ashamed to say, we just don't make any use of it.

Our yard gets the most attention from our lawn guy/landscaper/handiman who cuts it every other week or so during the growing seasons. But all of that changes this spring. Today concludes Day 2 of my agricultural efforts. And now that I'm out there I can't figure out for the life of me what kept me from doing this sooner. Maybe it was a lack of funding, the distraction of parenting, newlywed excitement or a more interior focus. Whatever it was, I'm glad I snapped out of it and just delighted to be creating the outdoor living space I've always imagined. The goal is something like this:


Here is a recap of what's happened thus far.

Day 1
After work, I picked up a shovel and rake from a local general store, and a toy pair for my 3-year-old. Then we (and by that I mean "I") spent 2 hours raking, clearing and bagging the fallen twigs, branches and leaves. We learned that dirt don't hurt and I realized a child won't be afraid of the rustling in the trees and bushes if you just let her explore them freely. In fact, she may even say "Mommy, you make me so happy," just because you let her ruin her school clothes, and "bake" mud brownies.

Day 2
We (again that means me) started excavating a space for the pavers I'm going to put down as a giant lightbulb-shaped sitting area/patio. We discovered Home Depot thinks a wheelbarrow is worth at least $50, but a potted fruit tree can be acquired for a mere $9.99

*I've decided to document this entire process with daily entries, starting below.

Day 3 (5h)
We headed straight to Maxway when we woke up. I found a wheelbarrow for $20, managed to wedge it into the back seat next to my partner and her car seat. Then back at home I was on fire, hauling dirt, raking more leaves and after 6 hours of labor intensive I took 3 Motrin, soaked in a warm bath and had a wonderful restful sleep

Day 4 (6h)
Started early again, right after breakfast. I skipped church and a visit at my in-laws' I learned the night before that rain is coming this week so I have to keep going while my momentum is strong! More than half of the hole is complete.

Day 5 (2h)
I didn't realize how tired I was until I felt myself dozing off at work. All this labor is exhausting. My hands are sore and the back of my thighs ache. I'm almost there, no turning back now. And rain is coming so I'm in a rush to beat the forecasted storm that's scheduled to hit the day after tomorrow.

Day 6 (3h)
The hole is finished! What's G?
G is committing to back aching labor even after the sun sets because you can't stand the thought of one more day of digging.(Can you tell I've been drinking lots of Gatorade throughout this process) I hollowed out the final portion of my patio foundation, headed to Kroger sweaty and smelly with red dirt smeared all over my clothes and bought some Epson Salt and a couple bottles of Arbor Mist. Came home and did some Pilates stretching, then I soaked in the tub and sipped on the AM.

Day 7 (2h)
I realize my hole is actually probably much deeper than I needed it to be. Some portions are actually 6 inches deep and I think 3 will suffice. I realized this half way through digging this 25' x25' hole so I had to put some dirt back into the section I decided to start with. Then I went to Lowe's to pick up some of the pieces I needed. My ego was boosted when the male sales associates seemed fascinated by the fact I could lift 20" x 20" pavers on my own. They decided to help me (and slow me down by getting the crane lift out and driving the pallet to my car) but we managed to get 12 of the large stones inside my hatchback. When I reached home and my husband helped me unload those. I began placing them in the ground and managed to get one row complete. This is going to take some time, but I'm committed.

Day 8 (1h)
This massive project is creeping into my dreams now. I had a nightmare of sorts where some "professional" assured me that my work was in vain and that it wouldn't turn out right. How horrible. I started to doubt my layout and the pavers I selected. I took some time to just sketch and rethink and decided to forge ahead. I laid down another row of pavers last night and will pick up more supplies today.
Go me!

Facing it

I've gone and done it. I joined Facebook. Around the time my daughter was born in 2005, I became mildly aware of these internet networking sites: MySpace, LinkedIn, Facebook, etc, but I was too tired or too busy to care.

I figured there wouldn't be anyone out there looking for me and I'm not looking for anybody in particular, so I just let the phenom pass me by.

My only exposure came from my teenage sisters or some random and atrocious media coverage, like the mom who drove her daughter's enemy to suicide by posting a bogus and malicious MySpace in the victim's name or the shoot out that resulted when some undesirables crashed a party they learned about on Facebook. Why on earth would I want to mingle with boy-crazed teenagers or expose myself to a bullet brigade? I was content to stay LinkedOUT.

The World Wide Web can be a dangerous place so I've remained cautious with my involvement. It took me 2 years to even commit to blogging. But anyway, one of my un-book club members started her "Force Chaundra to Join Facebook" campaign around Christmas and it was clear to me that it wouldn't cease until I was sworn in as the newest member of the Facebook community.

It's been four days and I have 38 friends, I've seen people I loathed and others I loved, some I figured were lost forever and a few I couldn't lose if I tried.

I've been reminded of how awkward I felt through out high school and how much assurance I gained in college. But ultimately, I've just been facing the fact that you can't go back. I'm reminded to just continue making the most of the here, now and later.

Turning over a new leaf

It's a tea leaf to be exact. Those who know me well, are also aware that I've been suffering from an addiction as of late. It started after the birth of my daughter three years ago. I began to drink coffee almost daily, the long nights and increased work load had me drained and caffeine became my supplement.

But the habit was moderate and under control. I'd drink a cup a day on weekdays in the office. Then, well, I just got carried away. I was at Dunkin Donuts, Starbucks, even the gas station cappucino machines whenever the whim hit me to drink. If I missed my daily dose, massive headaches would set in. So I started sipping on the weekends. Then I started to drink multiple cups each day and into the night and that's when the heart palpitations kicked in.

Yep, my heart was fluttering like a fish. I took myself to the nearest doctor for a full check up. I had heart monitors, blood work, etc. And everything came back normal. In fact, the doctor said the results proved I was exceptionally healthy. My cholesterol was story book, my heart was strong and had the rhythmic patterns of an "athlete" she said. (I'll take that!)

And her only diagnosis was to lay off the caffeine. Really?

Really.

I took a week off, then gradually and carefully began to drink just 1 cup per day. But the hiatus helped me realize I don't need it anymore and I felt fine without it. The withdrawal symtoms (i.e. headaches) were brief and I was completely detoxed.
So drinking it again felt a little foolish, my breath felt bitter, it's hard on my teeth and it leaves a bad after taste.

I bought some flavored tea and I must admit I feel cleaner. My mouth isn't pungent and it goes down a lot smoother and there's really no need to add any sugar. It's delightful.

It's beginning to look a lot like...spring time?

This is my view of the snow falling into my backyard on Sunday. I'm really ready for spring and yellows and pollen and heat; however, I couldn't help beholding the beauty of this snow. It fell so peacefully and covered everything in blanket of white. And although it was freezing, everything looked brighter and more pristine. So I'm just reminded that God is in control and I should just slow down and enjoy the view.

Spring Fever!

I'm Vitamin D deficient.
A good dose of sunshine will cure me. The only problem is, it's been a little too cold to dwell outdoors for extended periods of time. For instance, it is currently 49 degrees in Atlanta. And that's high in comparison to what we've been dealing with.

Now I must give credit where it's due. We were spared the frigid air for a few days earlier this month. Yep. It was a refreshing 67. But that didn't last long enough. In fact, it ended abruptly when some 20 degree weather came to town. Then last week some tornados were lurking around.

Enough already!

I am just ready for some bright colors, exposed shoulders, toes and collar bones. It's time to push the turtlenecks and cable knits back into the back of the closet and bid adieu to my boots for now.

I'm ready to get out and play in my massive backyard. I'm gonna buy myself a cute gardening hat and some gloves, clear out some space for patio furniture and a play area for the little one.

And since the sweaters will be in hibernation soon, I need to crank up the cardio. I won't be able to camouflage my wintery girth or layer with tights (that have mercifully been serving in a dual role as shapewear).

But I'm willing to do the work. I'm ready for flirty skirts and sandals and maybe, just maybe, if I focus on exercising the sun will be here before I notice.

Blue Mood

At least once a month, for reasons beyond, my control I experience a dramatic shift in my mood. My hormones regularly throw me into familiar and unwelcome states of being: insecurity, doubt, melancholy, woe, apprehension.

I'm plagued by the most unreasonable and unsubstantiated thoughts. I'm fat, I'm ugly, I'll never amount to anything, I'm such a loser. I suck at parenting. My friends don't really like me. Does my husband even love me? My parents must be so disappointed.

No need to plan an intervention! Thankfully, I'm aware of the cause and I know when these feelings begin to sprout that they're just feelings. None of it is true.That being said, it's still hard to ignore the feelings. Some days, like today, I am in such a funk I want to just sit in the dark or take an 18-hour nap. But, I can't. I have to work, coexist.

So this means I need to kick off a session of self motivation. Listening to will.i.am's "Brand New Day" on repeat, drinking Starbucks, a shopping spree in the Target $1 spot, purging into a blog post....all help usher me through the fog.

And I'm not done yet. After work today I'm going to the gym to sweat it out to my workout jams playlist, then I'll go home and soak in a luxurious bath and punctuate the evening with a fresh coat of red toe nail polish.

Tomorrow is a new day.

I Pledge

What do you pledge? Come on, there must be something. I love this idea/campaign to really get people involved in service and making a change. Obama cannot do it alone.

I'm going to start with reusable grocery bags, then I just might pick a project from this site www.usaservice.org

I hope you're inspired too. Spread the word!

It's a New Day!

I love this song. It's such a happy tune. It's my current personal anthem.(I'm feeling the political statements too)

It's a new day, It's a new daaaaaaayy....I woke up this morning, feeling alright...feeling brand new...

The chorus reminds me that each morning is a fresh start, a blessing and a gift. Since God was courteous enough to see me into it, I'm going to just try living it to the fullest.

Even if I don't complete my to-do list, or finish a novel, cook a gourmet dinner or put all the laundry away. It's okay. From now on, I'm striving to really feel pleased about the items I could check off of my list, instead of agonizing about the ones that remain.

If we eat Stouffers tonight, then maybe I'll be more rested and energized to try something exciting and different tomorrow. Because after all, tomorrow will be a new day.

Pace yourself. I don't know CPR!

Today, I resumed my A.M. workouts. I took a holiday hiatus from the routine. And as a result found it impossible to get up the last two days.

But today was different. I had to get back into the gym. Apparently, a wide assortment of New Year's Resolution makers felt the same way. It was overrun with new faces.

Usually, at 6:45 a.m. the athletic center is pretty vacant. There's me and the guy in the white sleeveless shirt. He runs on his treadmill for 5 minutes at a time, then disappears to do some strength training, I suppose. Then, he's back on the treadmill pounding it out.

Then, there's the Pool Pair. The man does laps and the lady, well, she sort of wades around then hits the sauna. And on the upper level there may be 3 more ladies on ellipticals. On Wednesdays and Fridays, there's spin class with no more than 5 of us participating.

The regular morning crowd is pretty cheery too and we typically greet one another with a "Good Morning!" and part with a "Have a good Day!"

That's how it used to be anyway, before New Years Day.

Today, I saw newbies in mass. On the treadmill, one man, I'll call him New Guy in the Glasses, spent more time off the treadmill stretching than on it. At one point he was squating with his head down between his knees. Baby steps, Mister, baby steps. I'm just glad he didn't pass out on my watch.

In the ladies' locker room New Extremely Naked Lady had her things all over the place. She left her outfit laid out across an entire bench, then went to take a shower. Very inconsiderate. It was crowded. Doesn't she know benches are critical preparation spaces meant for sharing?

I hope these new people get it together soon.

Back to Reality

I had a fabulous Christmas vacation. There were parties, house guests, good food and relaxation. It all ended abruptly Monday morning when my alarm sounded at 5:30 a.m. EST. What an invasion of my restful state! So I'm back in the office now and shuffling papers once again.

Hey, somebody has to do it.

Welcome to Wal-mart!! (and more winter wandering)

Christmas is about Jesus, the baby Jesus' birth to be exact. So why does everyone get into a tizzy shopping for gifts? Why did my daughter's day care teacher confront me about the lack of gifts given unto her by the parents?

I am not a gift giver. My gift to that day care is faithfully paying "tuition" once a week. Besides, I don't generally make a list of Christmas gifts to distribute to people I believe to have been good all year. I try to show appreciation throughout the year in small ways. And this is not the economy to drop blatant hints about gifts. Although she has since made another shameless plea.

It's all just too much. I'm not Scrooge and this isn't a bah humbug to you who enjoy the mayhem or those who plan ahead and make it through the season stress free. But, I just experienced a hellacious holiday shopping spree this weekend that reminded me of how pointless it all is.

I don't know what manner of fever possessed me to enter Wal-mart at high noon on the Saturday before Christmas, but I did. And I wasn't particularly searching for gifts. I was just perusing with my toddler, on a quest to find party favors for her upcoming birthday tea party. So we painstakingly narrowed down choices, then we browsed the toy aisles, the craft aisle...all the while she's chanting "I wan dowa, I wan dowa" [translation:"I want Dora"]

I'm taking deep cleansing breaths as I fight through the traffic jams on every row, barely able to view the merchandise over the back of someone's head. It was chaotic and uncomfortable to say the least.

Then the child's chant changed to "I got pee, I got peee, I got peeeeeee." Since she's a novice potty user, this chant always gets a prompt response. So we abruptly park our cart, that contained some carefully selected goods, and head into the restroom.

No more than 5 minutes later, I emerge to find the cart is missing. It is no where to be found. I confront a sales associate who assures me they are not collecting carts or moving them to the Go Backs area, then she asks me:
"Was it empty?"
No!

If it were empty I wouldn't give a (fill in the blank), but I just spent an hour navigating through this outer rim of hell with a 2-year-old in tow just to have my efforts swiped. Discouraged, we walked hand in hand through the store looking for our cart.
Had I seen it, I fully intended to grab the handle, throw my kid inside and roll away. (even if this meant elbowing some unsuspecting shopper out of my way) I suppose it's best I didn't find it.

We left the Wal-mart empty handed, feeling drained and defeated.
I suppose someone mistakenly pushed the cart away, adding his or her own personal selections atop my own. Maybe he or she didn't even realize it until he or she reached the register. I hope this unattentive person paid for some of that junk that was riding around in my cart to appease the toddler. The thought makes me feel some what vindicated.

Winter Wandering

The tree was released by a Husky bolt cutter courtesy of Home Depot. Yes I did it, and they helped. Especially, when they accepted the return the following day. I consider it a bolt cutter loan, that I paid back in full.

So my house began to look a lot like Christmas about a week ago on Sunday, Dec. 14. I calculated we could enjoy the tree at least 10 full days before the official holiday. That means it was worth the effort. But there was still something missing.

Looking at my tree didn't bring me tidings of comfort and joy. The white lights on a white cord were glaring and awkward. Why hadn't I noticed it before? I went to Walmart to get white lights on a green cord. That helped. Then, I realized I don't like half of my silver and gold ornaments anymore. Only half of them were worthy of the tree so I decorated just one side of the tree. I'll wait till the after-Christmas sales to get new and improved ornaments from the pricey places like Pier 1.

The tree pictured here is similar to mine. I'll take a picture later and update it.

Free the Tree

Christmas time is near.
I love this time of year!
..The nip in the air, the comforting foods, the glow of the tree. But wait! My tree isn't up yet! Traditionally, I prop this dominating figure up the day after Thanksgiving so that we can bask in its glory for at least a month.

But this year, the ritual has been delayed. First, by the fact that I was not geographically present. I was hundreds of miles away from home working on my mother's tree. And it is a fragrant fir - beautifully adorned with blue and silver ornaments.

My artificial, reusable tree; however, is in captivity at the moment. It's trapped in our shed. Much to my dismay, when I went out to recover it, I discovered that someone had closed the combination lock, which we deliberately leave open. The problem is, we don't know the combination. It was written on a piece of paper that is MIA. (This is why people do things like writing their PIN numbers on the back of their ATM cards)

I thought about just buying a real tree for this year, but when I got out there and saw the prices I kept thinking I already have a tree. I am NOT going to pay them $40.

So I've decided that today is the day. I'm on the web studying instructional videos about lock cracking. If I can't get it out, there may be a Charlie Brown tree at my house this year.