Expect the unexpected

        11 days from today I will be on my way to a resort deep in the jungles of North Western Costa Rica. Just a week ago, I had a vague desire to get away from the gloom and the cold of south western Ontario in January but had thought I’d like to wait till the end of February by which time I’d be nearing my limit of cloudy skies and brown terrain.

 But life being as it is, took my desire and put it into its own version of time and space. An innocent phone call, aimed at passing on New Year’s greetings to distant relatives, led to a whirlwind of unencumbered decision making and reshuffling of schedules until I had Cost Rica written on my calendar, in the square marked January 23.

         The speed with which the plans were made is part of the sweetness of the experience. Not only did I not consider Costa Rica when dreaming of a warm, sunny place away from home, but neither did I think that I would be watching monkeys swing from trees outside my balcony in less than two weeks. With so little time to prepare, I will be bringing the bare necessities; shorts, bathing suit, camera, high SPF lotion and deet. But, what else does one really need when jungle and beach are carefully portioned out to semi-adventurous travelers from the north? I don’t expect to be wrestling with any alligators or trudging through the rainforest un-guided. Maybe I’ll bring along my running shoes in case hubby insists on zip lining through the canopies or horse back riding on the beach. That’s as far as I’ll go in preparation for the unforeseen as far as this trip is concerned. Its arrival took me by surprise, let the rest of it take me where it may.

I resolve to, more or less

In light of all the new years resolutions I've been reading about lately, I have decided to set out a few of my own. I will not obsess about meeting them all but rather be mindful of them and like every year, do the best that I can.

To pay attention more, as in the colour of the eyes of the people I meet
To stand under the shower longer, just for the sheer pleasure of it
To hug my family more often, even when they would rather I didn't
To have more fun, at every opportunity
To sing along to the radio more often
To walk away less
To move toward, more
To remember to floss
To indulge in guilt, less
To try a new flavour at least once a week
To wash the floor less and shine the mirrors more
To air out the rooms more, especially on a windy day
To appreciate every wrinkle and remember how it got there
To stop saying no in my head and practice it out loud
To get rid of clutter
To read only the good stuff
To permit myself to write about the bad stuff
To say thank you as soon as I can
To give advice less
To drink more
To eat less of the stuff that doesn't really matter
To look at old pictures more often
To take new pictures more often
To dance even though I can't
To sing even if people cringe when I do
To draw without expecting anything in particular
To look just beyond the obvious
To encourage more
To give up less
To take more naps just like the cat.

Too much of too much

Well, so much for posting everyday throughout winter. I should have known that was an impossible task considering the presence of Christmas holidays and all the preparation and post holiday discombobulation that accompany it this time of year. Having the chance to finally clear the post-Christmas fog, and reflect on the last several days, this morning I came to the conclusion that the birth of  the idea of the "seven deadly sins" must have taken place at this time of year. At last count, I could account for at least five out of the seven being displayed in plain view within the last several days.

People, usually kind, motivated, restrained and charitable, are now transformed into greedy, slovenly and glutenous creatures, seemingly overnight. ( I use the collective "we" here) The overabundance of food and free time has played to our lowest common denominator and transformed us into the kind of human being the bible has long warned us about. This, of course, is on a level that only hints at the what is possible if left unchecked. I, as well as many others, already feel the nagging longing for life to "get back to normal." We've had enough of staying up till morning, sleeping till the afternoon, eating till we feel we will burst and scouring the flyers  for yet another electronic gadget .

Don't get me wrong. I would never deny any one including myself, the pleasure of a tryptophane fog, the sweet and spicy heaven of a gingerbread cookie or the anticipation of opening that shiny package under our bejeweled tree. It's the quantities I object to. Too much shiny, too much sweet, too much of too much for my liking. Bring on the New Year and the slow but relentless build up to Valentine's day.

Can I pay you to read this?

What greater wish could a parent harbor than to have their children living a life that they find fulfilling and one that brings them closer to their desired goals? I can't think of too many. Even if our personal wishes come to fruition, they can't shine as brightly when the children are struggling, when their path is strewn with quick sand or pot holes.

Today, one of my and my daughter's Christmas wishes came true. As she so aptly put, "Kids, Santa is real!" All she, and in turn I for her, wanted for Christmas was to get a job. Any paying job would have been good, but a "big girl job" is what she really wanted. A full time job, in her field of study, that allowed her to "be paid to read." Since this has been a goal of hers for a long time now, albeit, a goal she considered very unlikely to meet, in the near future anyway,we were all "over the moon" when "the call" came this morning.Yes sirree, 9-5 of reading book manuscripts in final preparation for print. This is a girl who would read if she had to pay to do it. And here, they were offering to pay her. How is that for a Christmas miracle?

That brings me to the question of wishes and the miracle of having them come true. The way I see it, we might as well set our sights high. I mean, wishing to get something totally within reach, never results in a miracle, but going for a goal that seems like a "pie in the sky" is what miracle workers specialize in. Whether your miracle worker's name is God or Santa, or good old fashioned Perseverance and Serendipity, there is nothing like the feeling of putting your faith in something beyond yourself and just "going for it" with every fiber of your being.

This Christmas will be a special one at our house. Both the kids are working hard on their chosen paths and I know that miracles will continue to pop up for them just as surely as the pot holes that are are a part of every road. Look how far they've come already. They are fine examples of all that is good in the world and why it's always a good idea to plan for the miraculous in our lives.

Jamaican Me Crazy

The thing about flavoured coffee is that it smells much better than it tastes. I know. I've tried many a caramel, vanilla, fudge toffee varieties with and without dessert and in my opinion they are just not coffee. They may be a confection similar to coffee, or a hot coffee-like treat, but the act of adding any flavour to the coffee bean immediately negates it's "coffee"designation and enjoyability factor, or so I used to think.

Walks in friend and unassuming coffee saboteur Bonnie, a few years ago at book club, and in one fell swoop changes my previously held views on the above position a full 179 degrees (all other flavoured coffees are still taboo as far as I'm concerned). After spending the last hour or so, gushing over the genius of Abraham Verghese's Cutting for Stone, the book club contingent sat relaxed in the afterglow of good conversation while she innocently slipped an unassuming looking cup of Jamaican Me Crazy to our unsuspecting taste buds.

That has been at least two years ago. I can not count the number of times I have stopped by every Winners and Home Sense in my path just to check out their coffee section to see if this ground gold was sitting on the shelf. It appears a few times a year and then again performs a disappearing act for several months at a time. I have been known to empty their entire supply on occasion and stash it in my freezer for safe keeping.

Here it was two weeks before Christmas and several months had gone by without a sighting of Lansing Michigan's own Paramount Coffee's, Jamaican Me Crazy. Perhaps this is one reason I have found myself rather stressed of late. I asked the elfish shelf-stockers about it on more than one occasion as Christmas drew closer and was met with a smirk and a rolling of the eyes. Apparently a few employees in the know had their antennas set on Jamaica as stock came into the store. A couple of days ago, my coffee addiction received it's early Christmas present. Two pouches of the Jamaican gold sat waiting for me as innocently as sprinkles on a doughnut. I snatched up both and rummaged through the entire shelf just to make sure the elves were not up to their irritating tricks. Two, just two 340 gram packages to do me through the holidays.

My name is Eva and I am an addict. Thanks a lot Bonnie.

Hot Tamales

I made Mexican tamales today. I know, it's the last thing that I'd thought I'd ever be making, especially at this time of year. But the opportunity landed in my lap and considering that I 'd never get the chance again, I welcomed the chance. My little sister, technically a cousin, who's been spending a considerable amount of time in Mexico, arrived home for Christmas with a big idea under her belt. Tamales, a staple of that culture, are apparently available on every other street corner regardless of the village or town. The fact that they are not a part of the menu at most of our local Mexican restaurants or available as a ready to assemble kit on our grocery store shelf, probably has something to do with the fact that they it took us two afternoons as well as several ingredients, that are not usually present in my cupboards, to make approximately 30. I understand that once you know what you're doing, and you have all the necessary things on hand, you can probably churn out dozens per hour. Fortunately for little sister, she is willing to do what many in our fast paced, fast food society are not. We used duck confit, a few different varieties of chillies, tomatillos, several kinds of mushrooms, cilantro, lots of cilantro, a specially treated corn flour and reconstituted corn husks to hold it all together. And here, I'm just naming a few things that passed before my eyes on their way to or from the fry pan or food processor.We were her official taste testers and pass the test she did. The beautifully wrapped parcels of yumm are now resting in my freezer waiting to be brought back to life when the entire family has gathered. The foodies in Toronto are going to be licking their chops when tamale chef extraordinaire unleashes her creativity and tamale making energy on them. Check out the info on this amazing dish and the chef who's going to make it her business.


https://www.facebook.com/#!/tasteyourfreedom

Pass the borscht

Since I'm feeling uninspired at the moment as I have been the entire day, but feel determined to post every single day, I have come up with another recipe for a staple at our Christmas Eve dinner. Easter European barszcz or more commonly known as borscht is enjoyed by Poles, Ukranians, Russians, and Hungarians as well as many North Americans of that ethnic heritage. I must say, since I have never been a soup eater, it has taken me almost 50 years to participate in this Christmas Eve ritual. Last year I distinctly remember having a few spoon fulls as many others oohed and ahhed around the table. Here's a look at a simple way to make this traditional soup. My mother always adds red wine as well as pickled plums and only serves the broth, plums and dumplings (uszka) but I'm sure there are as many ways to make it as there are families who enjoy it.