Hand, medium rare

A while ago, I opened up our little decade-old microwave, put my hand in to take out a cup of hot milk for cocoa, and noticed I was cooking my hand.


The microwave, which should have shut off when I opened the door, was still on even with the door opened.

I shut the door quickly and contemplated my hand. It seemed fine but, ewwwwwwww.

That microwave was discarded, and we talked about getting another, but I wanted to try an experiment: Would I miss having a microwave?

That was at least a year ago, maybe two, and I guess my answer would be: no.

A kettle of water for tea takes just a few more minutes to boil. Same goes for warming milk for hot cocoa, or heating up leftovers. And popcorn is actually a little more fun to make in the hand-cranked popcorn maker I grabbed for under $20.

Sometimes I wish I still had a microwave, but then I think about cooking my hand and that wish goes away.

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Can you tell I’m about to embark on a kitchen renovation this spring?

So, as I descend into kitchen-planning madness, what “typical” kitchen appliance or feature could you not live without? For me, it is the garbage disposal, the dishwasher and the trash compactor. And, if you try to take away my coffee maker, I’ll bite you around the ankles until you let it go.

Wordless Wednesday: Fun with Shufflebooks

Photobucket

Photobucket

1970’s Shufflebook by Richard Hefter and Martin Moskof, found two decks on ebay

Twenty


On Saturday, after doing yard work, talking to neighbors, vacuuming the minivan, folding clothes and setting the kids up for a picnic on the lawn, I decide to go for a run.

I laced up my Brooks running sneakers that I had bought so many years ago, left the kids playing in the front yard with my husband nearby, and took off down the street.

“Five minutes“, I told myself, knowing that I really should do that Couch to 5K plan which starts off nice and easy. But, I get dizzy trying to keep track of my time in such short bursts of run/walk, so it’s easier for me to do it my way.

Down the street and I was panting. Running sooooo slllllooooowwwwlllly, it seemed funny to be breathing hard, but I knew I just had to get past that wall and my breathing would calm down a bit.

Five minutes! Wow, that went fast.

How does everything feel?

Some of you may remember why I stopped running. I ran after I had Jilly, my second, but I got pregnant so soon afterward with our son, D, that I didn’t have a chance to run a lot. And then part of my insides decided to fall out, and that put an end to me running.

Forever, I thought.

Ten minutes. Wave to neighbors who yell “Keep going! Keep going!”

I keep going.

At 15 minutes, I’m on a long street thinking about how many time I ran this street before. I’ve run it when I was pregnant with Belly, and then pushing Belly in her Baby Jogger. I’ve run it in 80 degree heat with Jilly in my belly. I even pushed both girls in the Double Jogger a few times before.

That was, what, six years ago? Seven?

I am so slow a child on a bicycle could whiz by me in a blur. My feet are coming up and down, just a few inches to minimize the jolting on my body (hey, how’s everything doing in there?).

And then, as I close in on 20 minutes and my street appears in sight, I realize I love doing this. I don’t want to run a marathon, a half or even a 10k. I just want to go out on a lovely day, a rainy day, a snowy day, and put one foot in front of the other on the hard concrete and feel my asthmatic lungs fill with air.

Some may derisively call what I’m doing “jogging”, but no sirree, I’m running.

Running!