Wandering

For all of you out there that knew the difference (or lack there of) between scallions and green onions before the age of 28, please exit this site immediately and allow this writer to retain some dignity.

On May 19, two days after our return from our honeymoon, the grocery store became unchartered waters. Prior to May 6, I knew the routine. It was my routine, my grocery list, my cereal and soy milk. Now, in an effort to serve my husband and avoid being outdone by other wives (I thrive with competition, unfortunately), the list includes ingredients for at least 3 new – never-before-cooked-by-Carin – recipes each week.

For those of you that have more kinds of cooking oil in your cupboard than types of cereal, please exit this blog now — again, my ego is on the line.

When we returned from our honeymoon, we had a full bottle of olive oil. One bottle. That's it. And life was good.

We can now offer our friendly (or not-so-friendly) neighbors teaspoons, tablespoons, or heck, cups of the following types of oil: olive, vegatable, canola, walnut, peanut, and seseme. I am not kidding. And if another wife beats me in this category, I would challenge her to the vinegar or seasoning categories anyday. I purchased white pepper and ginger (because we are almost out!) just today.

Fennels anyone? Any of you that have made a recipe with fennels….you know what to do. Give me my privacy and let the women of cereal lane bond together.

I have made two meals with fennels. They are a flavorful onion that I almost thought were scallions.

Coriander seeds? Yep. Spent $3 on a tub only to need 2 tsps. Who would ever need the entire tub? Granted, it doesn't expire until 2007.

The meals have been very good. And Oozy says my cooking is one of his favorite things about marriage thus far. I will take pictures of the meals…I really don't know how long this is going to last.

Always a safe bet to start with some alliteration on your first blog posting. The perfect word choice is just not a consideration when you are forced down a single alphabetical path. The phrase rolls out like dented marble, and you avoid cliche announcements that might turn off the more sophisticated readers (otherwise known as friends and family – the only readers).

Yes, I am in a permanent state of wandering and yes, I am drinking a glass of wine. One glass. My favorite man – my husband – will not be home for another two maybe three hours. I intend to use the time to reflect, introspect, and ponder the road behind and ahead. All for the purpose of becoming more like me, and though dreadfully tarnished, more like Christ.

And seriously, all I want to do is watch TV. It is my own fault. I have spent at least 10 of the last 48 hours in a fictional land – be it with Superman, Shrek or Jodie Foster playing Jodie Foster. I could have read the second half of the book, God of Promise by Michael Horton which I checked out of the church library two weeks ago. I am going to get an overdue slip now. I could have read the Sunday paper in its entirity, instead of just the Sunday Source which grades the upcoming dvd releases on an A to F scale. Love it.

Movies make me restless. Even the feel-good endings expire within a few moments. After the relationship is restored and the city is saved, all that is left between me and myself is the blooper-reel and behind the scenes with director X and big-name-star Y. And then somehow, Saturday Night Live on Tivo is more appealing than the soul. I personally find the more depressing films to have a longer feel-something shelf-life. Disappointment and doubt are embraced and not avoided. They evoke rather than impose. Not that Vince Vaugn and SNL can't do a soul some good. They surely pass the time, and I've heard about the health benefits of laughter. Yet, there is something about sorrow, more than there is something about Mary.

To put a postive spin on this, I will quote novelist Walker Percy. This makes it sound like I read Percy. I did not. In the spirit of full disclosure, I came across this quote in a one-page magazine article. Percy says: "Better to be a dislocated human than a happy chimp." Better indeed.