Sunday, September 25, 2011
This weekend was hectic, chaotic, nearly-panic-inducing because of the sheer volume of people that surrounded us in Laramie, Wyoming as we hosted the Nebraska Cornhuskers. I have never seen so much madness in this small, Wyoming town, and it was irritating! Why are all these people in my way? I have become Wyoming-ized, similar to institutionalized, because I love our quiet way of life. I never thought I'd say this. I have wanted to live in the city since I was 13 and watched "The Secret of My Success." But you grow, you learn. I would have never described myself as outdoorsy, but after a week on a houseboat, and my husband talking about buying a camper, I can't help but realize that I am right where I belong.
How many people get to see deer in their backyard - even at the expense of their tomato plants? How many people get to see nature un-violated by human hands? I live here. I live this every day. I don't have 4-star restaurants or hip, happenin' club scenes, or high-powered dinners, like I thought I would have, but it turns out, I have it even better. I have friends who love me, I have a beautiful home, a secure job, and a passion to live every day. And best yet, a marriage that I always wanted. It's not easy, but it sure is worth it. That's how I can tell you, eating my own words, that I am right where I belong.
Posted by Cyndi Johnson at 6:51 PM
Sunday, September 18, 2011
I had to take a 2 hour trek to Wal-Mart, a place I abhor and avoid like I do any other disease, and realized how little food is in our food today (and the politics of Wal-Mart and the dismissal of the class-action law suit about sexual harassment make me adverse to patronize any sort of place bad for women). I tried to do my best to get produce and meat, but I had an uneasy week, even cooking the food, because I knew it was so bad for us. My digestive tract was not happy with me, let's leave it at that. My dear husband, who is used to my cooking with organic and hormone/antibiotic-free food, agreed that he wasn't feeling as great either. But we survived, several fifths of SKYY, a few cases of beer, and some bloody marys along the way. I didn't preach my food politics, but be certain that I knelt before the Whole Foods deity at Park City on our way home. Found tomatoes and cucumbers and basil grown in my own back yard, well, maybe 120 miles from me in Wyoming, a much harsher climate than my locale. I think this week is our last farmer's market in town, not that I really have time to can more tomatoes, but I will make the time. It's worth it. I've spent a lot on food this summer, but it will last me most of winter. That's a long time to avoid our local grocery store, full of food that isn't really food.
I am so far behind in my PhD classes, I am hoping only for B's this semester. Three classes is too many, especially when two of the professors are wholly unresponsive to me. But, I'll get through it. Just like I do everything else. I am my own queen of the world!
Posted by Cyndi Johnson at 7:19 PM