The Museum Job

Greetings from Cancun. Chris and I left for the tropical destination last Saturday and tomorrow we will make the trek back to Canada. First stop Toronto, and then a final flight into Calgary on Monday evening. Our vacation came at just the right time: To kick the fall off and to officially (and appropriately I might add) say goodbye to the summer.

I haven’t written in a while because a) I was waiting to get some news on some potential job change and b) when the news came and then went again, I was able to duck under the cover of a trip to Mexico in order to put thought into the outcome and consequences of what happened in the span of a week. Today I’m feeling somewhat at ease about the entire thing, but last week at this time, I wasn’t feeling so hot.

I interviewed with a museum. They were looking for a special events coordinator and so, on a whim I applied for the job and never put any stock into hearing a response. As fate would have it, I heard the next day and interviewed a week later. I came out of the interview feeling like things had gone alright, but the overwhelming feeling of me getting the job wasn’t there, so I chalked it up to good interviewing experience and kept pushing forward. I waited an entire week and by the next Friday, I got a call from the man in interviewed with and he said that they really liked me, and were really happy with what they saw (insert huge ego boost here!) He was leaving on vacation and couldn’t make a decision before his departure, but he wanted me to know that he was really excited by my personality and in his mind, I was top of the list. He also cautioned that they were looking for a person who would handle the workload as well as have absolute dedication to the position. I quickly assured him that I too was also looking for both those things and would give the 200% necessary for the job. We ended the phone conversation on a positive note and I was assured that he would be getting back to me once he returned from vacation.

Not more than two hours later he called me back and said that he wanted to give me the job. I nearly jumped through the phone with sheer delight and told him I would be standing by for the job offer. I waited and waited and waited. In the span of a week, I spoke with his right hand lady twice who assured me that the paperwork was coming, it had just gotten caught up in HR and I continued to wait. Monday turned into Thursday and I was getting concerned about the no show on the job offer. Secondly, I was concerned about the fact that on the Saturday I was hoping a plane to Mexico and quitting my old job via email just didn’t seem fair.

I carried my cell phone with me everywhere with the hope that I might hear something. And the call finally appeared on Friday morning, last week. The man I interviewed with, who was on vacation somewhere in the United States, called to tell me that my job offer was being pulled and the soonest that he could look to officially hire me again wouldn’t be until at least the end of October, maybe even into November. He went on to say that the museum was currently under a hiring freeze, but given his workload he had been given special permission to hire someone, which was revoked by one of his colleagues. He apologized profusely and said that we would be in touch, that the job position was closed and he was sorry he was being so cryptic etc. etc.

See, it’s a good thing I have been in Mexico for the last week.

I understand that he was in a position that wasn’t easy. Shit, I wouldn’t want to hire someone and then tell him or her that the HR paperwork was never coming. Further to this, given the state of the economy, it comes as no surprise to me that the museum is under a hiring freeze. My biggest question still remains, Now what? I keep getting told that everything happens for a reason, and I’m sure it does, but right now, I’m not feeling so much love for that phrase. I know it’s meant as a sign of hope and encouragement, but it’s not really helping. When I first got the job interview I was super ecstatic that I was even considered, and when I got the job, I was even more thrilled that I was hired. I was looking forward to moving to a company that had work for me to do. I was looking forward to being able to get up in the morning and state that my being at work was making a difference. I was really looking forward to working with people who were connected to the arts and who were involved in the community. I know that in two or three months time that might be the case, but until then, what do I do? My current work situation has turned from bad to ugly and although September started 4 days ago, I have little faith that my current work situation is going to turn around, as everyone within the walls of my office continues to assure me. There are too many factors and variables to work against the notion that the month of September is going to change that.

I take courage in the fact that he stated that they have found their candidate and they job posting is closed. I take solace in the fact that it wasn’t me or my skills but rather a condition of the economy and forces beyond my control. I will keep in touch with the museum and continue to look at the situation, as much as necessary. I’m too much of a realist to put any stock into the end of October, beginning of November. In my experience, November can easily turn into April. I am blessed to have people who are in my corner though, and for that I am extremely grateful. R. from work is on a Calgary wide hunt for something else for me, and I don’t think she will ever know how grateful I am to her for that.

At the end of it all, I feel like maybe I am coming out on top. At least that’s what a week in Mexico has told me. I will enroll in a fall class on event planning (incase the museum actually comes through) and I now have the ability to put all efforts towards getting my gallery up and running for the 2nd of October. I can also put some thought and energy into getting more cupcakes produced and sold and all this while getting paid for something else. Maybe that isn’t so bad. Finally, I’ve been asked by the medical group that my mom does volunteer work for if I would go with them to Iraq in November to photograph their journey, and I have agreed with no hesitation. Maybe this is all supposed to happen before I can focus on the museum. Maybe not. When I return to my old job on Tuesday, I’m sure the sinking feeling and heaviness in my chest will return, but that’s ok. I will keep my eye on the prize. I love me, and right now, that’s all that matters.

As a shameless plug, please mark your calendars for October 2, 2009. My gallery will be opening in High River at the Art and Soul Gallery, and I would like nothing more than for you to join me. Starting at 6:30 and going until whenever.

As a poetic ending or potential ending to the story of the almost museum hire, I’m sending an invitation to the man I interviewed with at the museum. I hope he makes it.

The Faces of High River 2

In Pursuit of Perfection

Patti called me the Cupcake Queen at work on Tuesday night. I had to laugh, because I've never honestly seen myself in that fashion, and further to this, it was one batch of cupcakes and it was two weeks ago.

Ok, let me backup. The beginning of August, I asked Patti, the boss lady at the coffee shop where I work, what the protocol for making food for the coffee shop was, and would it be possible to look into making something of my own, to sell. Patti was eager to let me try, stating that it wouldn't hurt, and it might turn out successful. I did my research, asked other employees their thoughts (and wishes) and finally concluded that I would make cupcakes. If you've ever had a Crave cupcake, or seen the line outside of a Crave bakery, you'll understand me when I say that Calgary, maybe even Alberta loves a good cupcake. This considered, I figured I'd start there.

I finally settled on a recipe for the cupcakes and tentatively agreed to try a particular buttercream icing recipe. Now, if you've ever researched buttercream icings, you'll know that there are about 4 different varieties, all with various amounts of butter, shortening, and even sometimes eggs. I have a cookbook, that I'm sure is being used as a textbook somewhere, that gives 4 different versions of buttercream, with varying descriptions and suggestions. Did you know that there is French buttercream, Italian buttercream, Swiss buttercream and American buttercream. French is the most delicate (no surprise there) and American is the easiest (again, not a big surprise). I had experimented with both the French and the American versions, only to read in the textbook that Swiss is the way to go. Well you should have told me that earlier.

I whipped up my buttercream, made it a beautiful blue and red hue, piped it onto my cupcakes, and drove'em to High River. My goal was to sell out, and peak people's interest. Well folkes, I guess I did more than that. I sold out and heard from three different people about how much people loved them. So, I taking another batch down tomorrow. I'm going to be daring and leave 15 this time instead of 12. Truly, it's all part of my master plan (insert evil laugh here!)

I will post the recipe for Swiss buttercream when I figure out cup measurements. Right now, it's all be weight, and despite the fact that its more accurate by weight, most people don't have a scale. A great investment, but not very common. So, when I can tell you how many eggs and how many cups (yes, I said cups) of sugar , I'll be sure to post it. Word to the wise, it's not a 5 minute procress, more like 35, but well worth the time.

Warning: Working in a toxic environment is bad for your health

The phone visit with my "doctor" yesterday only proved to be somewhat depressing. My "doctor", aka my mother, told me that I needed to start recording everything that I ate in order to figure out why I was having such severe headaches, as food might be a trigger. This poses two problems: First, this means I have to write down everything I eat. Sometimes, I'd rather just eat something and forget I ate it. Writing it down means that I have to take account for what I ingest. Second, this means that I might be eating food(s) that cause me to lay on a couch, with my eyes closed, praying that the loud sounds coming from across the back alley go away. All in all, I don't feel this is a win/win situation for me or my love of food. My best bet is that it isn't butter. Chocolate is still out there as a possibility, but I'm leaning towards no. Thank God!

The dinner party on Saturday night was fantastic. Anna and myself had an awesome time creating lists about our goods, gathering our goods, creating action plans for our lists of goods and then executing everything to almost near perfection. There was one recipe that I'm still 50/50 on. I think that we made an oops somewhere, because heaven forbid, Julia Child make a mistake in the French cooking bible?! The menu consisted of Camembert crackers, potato cheese crackers, Beouf Bourguignon, and raspberry Bavarian cream, with a hint of some fantastic liqueur. Anna and myself convened at noon, went shopping, and started the dessert at 2, as per our intended plan. By the time everyone showed up at 7, everything was done, with only a couple minutes to sit down and feel proud of ourselves and our accomplishments. By the time we said our goodbyes, and divided up the remaining food, it was after 11. I think we did well by Julia, if I do say so myself.

And then the Sunday headache started... I have to admit that this isn't the first headache I've received on a Sunday afternoon - this one was just worse than some I've had and lasted well into Monday. My mom seems to think that it's stress induced, which it probably is.

Warning: Working in a toxic environment is bad for your health.

So, I stayed home yesterday and slept, watched some HBO television and baked/cooked. It was a sick/mental health day, and although I felt rather guilty until about 9 am, I quickly decided that it wasn't worth it to spend my whole day wondering what I was missing at work, and what people were thinking of me and and and...I also decided that I wasn't going to "should" all over myself - I should go to work, I should do laundry, I should vacuum...That type of thinking would have completely ruined my whole ME day. Needless to say, I had a wonderful day, and felt 38% better about coming to work today.

As an aside, the interview on Friday seemed to go alright, but I'm unsure about the whole thing. Better news still, I have another interview at another location on Thursday. I finally feel like the powers that be are starting to smile on me. That wasn't intended to rhythm, but hey, I kind of like it.

Happy Birthday Julia

I don’t know if it’s because I talk about food all the time, or whether, I’m always reading something about food, but I’ve come to be known around the office as the go-to for food related conversations. Case and point, a co-worker of mine came into my “office” (I sit in a big open space) and went into elaborate details about his weekend of soup cooking. He got all excited and
the face that rarely smiles was elated at his accomplishment. I asked the appropriate questions like “what kind of soup?”, “What was cream or broth based?”, “What kind of vegetables did you put into it…” and was proudly told all. Quickly after that, I was approached by another woman in the office with her list of things to bake in the upcoming weekend, which lead to a monologue about her love of cooking and baking. Let me remind you, this was Monday morning at 11:30am.

The reason I mention of this is because when I walked past soup man’s office this morning, and said good morning, he replied, “Good morning Julia”. Now, I’ve been called a great many things in my day, and Julia is the one that rubs me the most. It takes an ounce of effort to say Julie and I feel like calling me Julia is the lazy man’s way of calling my name. It’s Julie people, not Julia. These thoughts must have reached my face and contorted it, because he quickly followed up with “you know, as in the famous chef”. AH!, If you want to call me Julia and refer it back to Julia Child, I’ll take it. But only if it refers to Julia Child.

It’s Julia Child’s birthday on Saturday. Although she died in 2004, I still feel like celebrating her birthday. I have to admit, I’ve got a little bit of Julia fever, as I have her cookbook, I’ve read her memoir and saw the movie about her last Friday.

To celebrate her cooking accomplishments and to toast the summer of 2009, I’m collaborating with a good friend to throw a dinner party. I can’t wait to laugh, drink wine, cook and consume it all in a ¼ of the time it took us a create it. And in that order. Still working on the menu - but I’m not concerned. I’ve got 2 days, 524 recipes to go through, and an Interview (YEAH!) to plan for.

Ok, maybe I’m slightly concerned.

A Kid at Heart

Chocolate chip cookies will always have a special place in my heart. Not because they are the quintessential cookie, or because they are every kids favorite, but because of the memories that they have brought me.


My earliest memory of these cookies was when I was about seven. Me and my best friend had walked home from the bus stop and upon arriving, our babysitter Rhonda told us that our activity for the rest of the afternoon was going to be baking cookies. Thrilled, we grabbed wooden spoons, measuring cups, bowls and set about creating our chocolate masterpiece. I don't remember where the recipe came from, or how it all got mixed together, but what I do remember is how many went into the oven. If my memory serves me right, it was somewhere around 12, maybe even 11. Once the dough got all mixed together, Rhonda told us that we were in charge of scooping the batter, using two spoons, onto the cookie sheet and getting them ready for the oven. She, on the other hand, had to watch The Young and the Restless, but at first commercial break, she would be back to ensure that everything was going according to plan. You'd better believe that by the time she rounded the corner to settle into her soap opera seat, our fingers were into that dough faster than you could say The Young and the Restless. True to her word, she launched into the kitchen to assess our progress, and found 4 cookies on the sheet. Delighted by what she saw, she left again.


We quickly realized after she failed to appear during the second commercial break, that we had an entire bowl of cookie dough to ourselves and no one supervising. Without any hesitation, we shoved our spoons into the bowl and didn't stop. We would occasionally hear a sound coming from the TV room, which would propel us to drop a few more cookies onto the sheet, but when nothing became of the noise, we continued to inhale, stiffling giggles between bites. Suffice to say, when Rhonda appeared on the baking scene at the end of her show, she was shocked by the empty bowl, 12, maybe 11 cookies and two girls looking at her with very convincing, innocent eyes. I don't remember what she did with us, but I can only imagine that it didn't end well.

As you can see from an earlier post, not much has changed, only my age and the location of the cookie dough. This time though, I don't need to hide it. I still giggle at the thought, which is quickly followed by "oh shit, what are you doing..?" but in the long run, I don't care. Life is too short to deprive yourself of all that is good in this world, and cookie dough, raw or otherwise is part of that good.

Ms. Elaine's Chocolate Chip Cookies

Although Elaine claims to have received the recipe from someone else, they will always have her name in the title. These cookies are great to keep around, either as dough or baked. They freeze well and will keep for a long time in an airtight container.

2/3 cups Shortening

2/3 cups Butter of Margarine

1 cup Brown Sugar

1 cup White Sugar

2 tsp. Vanilla Extract

2 Eggs

2 1/2 cup Flour

1 tsp Baking Soda

1 tsp Salt

1 cup Large Flake Oatmeal

1 cup Chocolate Chips, or more to taste

Cream your shortening, butter and sugars together until it is well blended and creamy looking.

Around 5 minutes. Add the eggs and vanilla, and beat until incorporated. Do not over blend.

In a separate bowl, combine your flour, baking soda and salt. Add to cream mixture all at one and beat until combined. Add your oats and chocolate chips and mix until incorporated.

Note: This is a pretty fool proof recipe. It's not fussy or temperamental. Add everything (in the order listed above) and enjoy.

If you are unlike me and want to bake them, set the over at 350 F and back for 12-15 minutes.

U.E.S. F!@$#$% My Life

I started reading my last blog entry and was horrified to realize that the number of obvious, glaring mistakes was beyond atrocious. In fact, with that number of mistakes, someone should have shouted at me "hey you, where did you learn to spell? Were you even shown how to construct a sentence?" The sad answer to these questions are a) I was never taught to spell (at least in the traditional sense) and b) what's sentence construction? There's a way to build a sentence? Go figure.

I lived in Calgary from the age of 0 to 9, and for the 4 years that I went to school there, I was an experiment. Instead of one, grade one class, we had 3, with an open concept classroom, and 3 different teachers. Above the giant classroom, there were one way mirrors for the university students to "observe" us. Our teachers had to wear a microphone while teaching us our ABC's and we would routinely have to sit in the halls with these so-called observers and speak/read into a microphone. The worst part was, they would play back our recordings and make us listen to them. The idea (be that from the teachers or the powers that be) was that we didn't need to learn how to spell or how to structure a sentence. Verbs and nouns, adverbs and pronouns had no place in the four (or maybe 12?) walls of our classroom. No sir, English was something that was to be taught through osmosis. Yup, you heard me, osmosis. I'm surprised they didn't make us sleep on our text books at night for enhanced learning and extra credit points. I was always a sucker for that little gold star...

Anyways, to further add to the whole experiment, we were provided with seriously dangerous recess activities that would never pass in today's kid-friendly world. For example, the flying fox was two pieces of wood, held together by a long cable, and we would ride the cable from one end to the other, by placing our tiny feet into a triangle type thing that hung from the cable. If we were really daring, we'd have our friends push us so we'd go faster. Oh the joys of being a kid in 1989.

I tell you all this for one reason: If you happen to be reading something I wrote (and I say thank you for that) and there is a glaring mistake, one that makes your eyes hurt and your brain cringe, please let me know. I know there aren't a whole lot of you who read what I write, but for my future well being and for all those who might read what I have to say, please inform me of my spelling and sentence structure faults. All I ask is that you be kind about it. Have pity on the girl who was an educational experiment.

Good I'm glad we got that out of the way! Onto other news, I was able to extract the cookie recipe from Ms. Elaine, which means that the goods, in all their shining glory, will be coming to a blog near you. I dare you, no wait, I double dog dare you, to try and stop after one spoonful of cookie dough. For those of you who can, you're a better person than I am.

Salads and Bail Outs

Well Julia, you came through once again. Why I ever doubted you, I will never know, but tonight, you came off looking like a rock star. I shouldn't be surprised, really, but given my rather pessimistic nature, I was. These types of surprises are always helped when you have someone sitting in the chair across from you, complimenting the food on every second bite.

I am staying with the most delightful people in Oshawa. My boyfriend, I'm sure, finds it very odd that for my first vacation in 9 months, I come to Ontario to hang out with people my parents age. The reasons why I'm here are too great to list, and I know that even if I did, you would never understand, but suffice to say, coming to the 'Shwa regenerates my soul and calms my ever racing mind. To show my affection and gratitude, I decided that dinner was on me and what a coincidence, I just bought a new cookbook.

My quest to find the perfect recipe started last night, as I slid my fingers over the fresh pages, and inhaled the lingering smell of ink. I finally decided on a Nicoise Salad, because it seemed like the one recipe that had the least amount of butter and cream in it - which is to say, none. I went to the store this morning, loaded up on the necessary ingredients and slowly, over the course of the day, put the components of my salad together. I over shot the amount of dried mustard to put in the dressing and had to compensate with a little honey (shhhhh, don't tell Julia! In the recipe she claimed that adding sugar or the like was heresy!) but I followed everything else perfectly. The results were delightful, and it was the perfect way to end the evening. Except for dessert. Dessert was divine.

Elaine made cookie dough that I consumed straight from the bowl, which left me having the need to stretch and take a walk. I had run out of room to put the never ending amount of dough which I kept baling into my mouth. After a 45 minute walk, I finally stopped feeling like the Pilsbury dough boy.

I have to tell you that even though I had a great day, made an awesome meal and consumed more cookie dough than should be legally allowed, I'm not feeling 100% tonight. I'm feeling closer to 15%. I was informed by email tonight that the friend I had really wanted to see, wouldn't have the time . He might be able to make an hour or so, somewhere, but there were just too many other things going on. "Life is crazy right now". Honestly??? A friend that you have known since your second year of university tells you she's coming in July, and you agree to get together, make plans, meet the new woman, only to blow her off. Fantastic. No wait, I've got something better then that: I get blown off, followed by a consolation prize of "maybe an hour of so". You know what I wanted to tell him "Fuck you." But I didn't. I kept my mouth shut and wrote the typical Julie response "Let me know when you find time". I don't know whether to be mad at him for being an asshole, or at myself for letting him off the hook. I'm too damn forgiving and it pisses me off.

On this note, I'm going to bed. Julie out!

Butter is only the Beginning

I couldn't help myself - truly. I just had to buy myself another cookbook. You see, I've been reading this memoir, that has been turned into a movie, and its based on the cookbook I bought today. I always knew the cookbook would be worth the purchase, but I wasn't totally sold on the memoir. I bought it at the Calgary Airport because I needed a new book to read, and it looked decent. I really didn't think that the book would deliver (on any level) and much to my surprise, I can't put the freakin thing down. It's like an addiction. But I am running out of pages to read. This thought scares me! Whatever will I do once it is completed?

I started the memoir on my way to Chicago (the book I was trying to read while mr. somebody was talking to me) and it super witty, funny, and very relatable (even though I'm not from Texas and I don't currently live in New York). Formalities aside, the book is about a woman who hates her secretarial life, and decides to cook every recipe out of Julia Childs book "Mastering the Art of French Cooking - Volume One". I just purchased the 40th Anniversary addition at Chapters, not more than 15 minutes ago, and the book is rather large. And, although I do consider myself a gourmand (to a certain degree...maybe...I make my own pasta dough: does that count?) the idea of eating calves brains and other forms of sweet breads has about the same appeal as poking my eyes out with a spoon. Thus, I won't be pulling a Julie Powell.

(As an aside, I was reading about eggs done in the oven, and upon further inspection of the cooking gear and ingredients here in Oshawa, I realized that I could piece together what Julie Powell refers to as the greatest hang over food. EVER. I agree. 100%. HOT. DAMN. That in itself was enough to propel me out of my pool chair, into a car and off to Chapters.)

This said, I want to host more dinner parties. The kind where the food is full of delious butter and wine, where there will be a food coma at the end of the night and where people ask for another invitation (for them and their friends.) If the hangover eggs are just the beginning, I'm in for some amazing food. Maybe I should start going to the gym again, what, with all this butter I'm about to consume. But baby, butter is only the beginning.

Chicago to Toronto!

I have made it to Ontario with a few minor blisters and a bit of a headache, but all things considered, in one piece. The first leg of my trip was fantastic. The concert on Thursday was everything (and more) that I had hoped it would be, and from there, it just got better. I met some interesting people and heard some rather obscure things along the way, but those are the tales that make traveling so much fun. To date, “I have trust issues” is by far my favorite, but I will have to tell you about that at another time. Let’s just say the man I sat next to on the plane ride to Chicago, imparted this sentiment on me within the first 55.5 seconds of me meeting him. (Ok, I know that’s a bit of an exaggeration, but if you take away the time that I slept, the time he was distracted by the TV, and me trying to read my book, it boils down to about 55.5 seconds. Looking back, it’s comical, but at the time, I wanted to window to open up and swallow him.)


Yesterday afternoon, Fawn, Jason and I took the train into Chicago and wandered down to China Town. We got moderately lost (twice), but thanks to a handy public service woman in blue, we were able to steer into China Town, unscathed. Along our journey we stopped at Joy Yee’s Noodle house, found a 1926 bridge, and got a view of the downtown, that I’m not sure we would have experienced otherwise. By the time we’d wandered (and smelt) our way through China Town, all three of us had blisters on our feet and the idea of sitting down and not moving became very enticing. We hopped the red line to the Lake stop, and quickly found a Borders to park ourselves at.

The suggestion of hitting up a piano bar had been casually tossed around, but by the time we found ourselves at Borders, all appeal had been lost. We opted to take the next train back to Hindsdale, but much to our luck, we had missed the last train out of Union Station, and ended up people watching at McDonalds for two hours, while eating fries and sipping Coca-Cola. We finally caught the 8:40pm train west. Jason commented on his limp as we made our way back to the house. I laughed at him, which later came back to bite me in the ass, because I was awoken this morning by a pain coming from between my big and second toes. Upon further inspection, I too, was the proud owner of a nice-sized blister.

My morning started bright and early with a trip to the airport, a grande Starbucks, and a boarder crossing. As I write this, I’m a sitting in a candle lit room drinking a vodka tonic. Oh how I love vacation. Steak and vegetable packets are on the menu tonight for dinner, along with a nice bottle of Red. Six whole days of this means that Julie is one happy happy person.

A Few from Last Night

To say that Elton John and Billy rocked the stage at Wriggle field last night would be such an understatement. As people got more comfortable (an more drunk) they sang louder and danced harder. It was an incredibly awesome experience.

Vacation on the Horizon

Maybe it's time to post again. Not because I feel like I've got a lot to say, but rather because I feel inspired today. If I had to thank anyone for that, it would be my favorite food blog Orangette. Her way of writing inspires me to write. And maybe I have more to say that I actually give myself credit for.

The official count down to Chicago has started. Well actually, it started about 3 months ago, but that's besides the point. What started as a "Hey, would you like to meet me in Chicago for a concert" has now turned into 10 days of blissful summer vacation. I fly to Chicago on Thursday, stay the weekend and then fly onward to Toronto on Sunday. Every summer since I was about 15, I have spent a least a week in the Toronto area. Some of that time was summer vacation, some of that time was work, but regardless of the reason, I was in Ontario - in the summer. I know a lot of people have head issues with Ontario, specifically Toronto, but for me, it respresents so many memories that I cannot begin to describe the warm place that Ontario has in my heart.

For a long time now, I've had this feeling that I need to get away, remove myself from my job, Calgary and my life here. Not on a perminant basis, but rather for a break. Take some much needed (and deserved) ME time to reset myself. Besides long weekends, I haven't taken vacation since October, and this is starting to show. Everywhere. My general frame of mind is grumpy, and in the big picture, I have just run out of medicine. Vacation means no agenda, which means that I can do whatever my heart desires. Which is exactly what I'm going to do.

Here's the agenda:

Thursday: Fly to Chicago and go to Billy Joel - Elton John Concert

Friday - Sunday: Spend quality time with my best friend from University

Sunday - Sunday: See family and friends, sit by a pool, continue to sit by a pool and move as little as possible (except when necessary).

I know that when I return, my relationships will improve, my mental and physical health will improve and I will be able to give 100% to all that I do and encounter. Until I leave, the countdown will continue and I will continue to act my way into a feeling. Sometimes that's the only thing you can do - fake it till you make it.

Updates coming from Chi city and Tdot. Stay tuned for pictures and posts. Thank you all for putting up with my grumpiness. I promise it will be gone by the 26th.

I am reading a book right now called "Now, Discover Your Strengths" and the whole premise of the book is to look at what talents and strengths people posses and focus in on them, instead of our weaknesses. The book argues that way to often people ignore their strengths in an attempt to make their weaknesses stronger, and really, it should be the other way around (to a point). Instead of placing energy and money into something that we might only change marginally, we should place that into making our strenghts stronger.


I, 100% prescribe to the idea. Infact, I like it so much that I have done the quick quiz they provide and have been given my top 5 strenghts and now looking for ways to capitalize on my God given talents. Except I have one question: Has anyone seen what modern day work organizations and institutions look like? Maybe it's just me, but I work in an environment that could really care less if you have the talent for empathy, because, at the end of the day, it doesn't matter if you can related to people, but rather, did you get the peoples money?



In a world that is driven by the bottom line and a society that is all about themselves, I ask, how does using my natural talents today, help me tomorrow, especially when I work with a company that doesn't believe in or want to believe in everything that I am reading and that I agree to? It doesn't make sense.



That said, I have decided that there are some things that I am good at and persuing them in my free time at the office wouldn't be a bad idea. First it would give me something to do, and secondly...it would give me something to do. For example, photography and baking. Two great loves of my life. Last weekend I shot a wedding reception in Calgary that went really well, and two days ago I talked to the woman who owns the little coffee shop where I work, and she said that if I wanted to bake for the coffee house, I was free to do so. Baby steps. Visible Progress. Maybe we're on to something here.

Day 13 - An Internal Smile

I would be described as a morning person. I enjoy getting up, getting energized, taking on my day and going to bed around 10. For some, this outlook on life is boring, choosing rather, to wake up late and stay up late. I prefer the early morning sun, to the late night twilight, but each are as equally pretty. This morning I woke up, got ready, rushed out the door, rushed to the train, and in general, rushed to get to work. I arrived just before 8, and settled down for another day at the races. Upon opening my email, there was a message from a woman who works at my office, who I would rather not interact with. Her abrupt manner and condescending tone leave me feeling drained and stupid, and I sometimes think that she has taken it upon herself to make my life hell. Most days I avoid her and when I do have to interact with her, I just nod my head and say yes ma'am. Trust me, its easier that way. Her background is writing, and internally, that is what she does. She write proposals, strategies, and other corporate and PR related items. So the email this morning was her latest proposal that she wanted me (and another worker) to have a look over. Given the fact that she has been writing professionally for over 30 years, I almost didn't read it, but thought again. Knowing her, I would have a pop quiz on the contents of document and if I haven't read it, I would be setting myself up for pure hell. So I printed it off and started to read. First page - BAM! a grammatical error. I didn't know if I should leave it or correct it, weighing the options of either choice. I made note of it and kept reading. Flip forward to page 3 - BAM! An spelling error.

At this point, I honestly felt giddy with glee! I was correcting grammatical and spelling errors of a veteran. I still have a (internal) shit eating grin. To top it all off, it's Thursday.

I know I shouldn't play in other people's downfalls, but honestly, today, it made me realize that I'm not as bad as I think, she thinks I am (say that three times fast). As humans we all make mistakes, and I will hold my hand up for being part of that, but today, I saw this co-worker as an equal, as opposed to the snarling woman that she presents herself as. It still felt good through to put my thumb on my nose and say HA HA!

Day Seven - The Gift of a smile

This was written last week, and was going to be posted and then my computer blew up. So, exactly a week late, here is my Day seven post. For all of you who worried that I had disappeared, I'm still here, still taking photo's!

- - - -

Part of my daily routine at work is to walk to the post office and pick up the mail that has been delivered to out P.O. box. It is a nice way for me to get out of the office, to breathe unfiltered air and to stretch my legs. Since the weather is nicer, I’ve been taking my time, enjoying the sunshine and walking at a pace that isn’t light speed (I do that in the winter, and I’ve worked my time down to around 7 minutes!)

Wednesday had been a really bad day. I was chewed out a meeting for a seemingly minor mistake (I made a word have a capital “P” rather than a lower case “p”), in front of five people and I was super choked about the situation. As with me, I took the woman’s feedback, for what it was worth, and decided to have my own little feast on it. I analyzed, I reviewed from every angle and the only thing that I could come up with was that I needed to have an eat shit and die face. Let me explain. Given my personality type, I wear most of my emotions on my sleeve. It’s not hard to tell what type of mood I’m in or how I’m feeling that day, based on my facial expressions. So when this woman scorned me and lectured me, there were about 100 different emotions that passed across my face. The biggest one being embarrassment. So yesterday on my trip to the post office, as I was feasting on this woman’s comments, I concluded that having a stone face would be the best way to handle situations like that in the future.

Feeling better about myself and the situation, I headed for Tim Horton’s to pick up breakfast and to use my new found weapon. I stood in line, waiting my turn (somewhat impatiently, I might add) and when I was finally up at the counter, I gave my order and smiled. Shit, that wasn’t what I had planned. The man behind the counter looked almost startled as I stood there grinning like a fool (maybe it was the hunger, I don’t know). Slowly, the man cracked a smile and handed me my change. Thinking nothing of it (except maybe for the fact that my first attempted at “the look” had failed) I moved off to the side to wait for my bagel and coffee. The man behind the counter came over to me and said “Did you know that you are the first person to smile this morning? Everyone else comes in here are they look so unhappy and mean. Thank you”

Hold the phone! In my attempt to change myself so that I could better handle a work situation, I was inadvertently having an effect on someone else. See, if I had stood there and stone faced the man who was serving me, I would have been like everyone else. I would have been another cold face who didn’t give a damn. But smiling changed everything, including my mood. What a win/win situation. I smiled and he felt grateful. He felt grateful and my entire mood shifted, as did my day, as did the thoughts about my Wednesday meeting.

So today, I dare you to smile at a stranger. You never know who’s day you just might brighten.

Day Six - Nothing Ventured, Nothing Gained

For all of you who thought that I had missed day five, fear not. A number of factors occurred, conspiring against me. But fear not, the strength of a goal is far more powerful than a dead camera or no cord for upload.

The power of a smile can be an incredible thing. Story coming later!

Day Five - Looking Forward

I'm happy that today is Wednesday and the weekend is in sight. It's exacty as the song goes "Everybody's working for the weekend". I sometimes feel like I am this little hamster that runs around the hamster wheel, gets off to sleep, and then gets right back on the next day. My dad always said "off to the rat race" before he left every morning when I was a kid. Sadly, I now understand. Monday and Tuesday are just days, but with the dawning of Wednesday, I know that I am on a downhill slide into Friday.

Given my nature, my weekend has already been sorted out, plotted and planned. It will involve two great loves of my life: Cooking and Horseback Riding. My mom is having a party for a friend who just graduated from Nursing School, and Chris and I have been asked to cook. That's Saturday. On Sunday, I'm going to meet Flash, the new horse in my life.

I always thought that moving back to Calgary would include never leaving my parents house, feeling redundant and pointless and me always yearning for somewhere else, doing something different. My weekend described above doesn't include any of those things. What a WOW! moment. Amazing what changing your glasses and changing your perspective can do for you. That's my goal for my today - Changing perspective. Taking the ordinary and looking at it from a different perspective and a different angle. How would things looked if you did the same thing?

Day Four - And Here Comes the Push

Day four - and I don't want to take a single photo. Not one. I have my camera sitting in front of me, and yet, the desire and will to pick it up is totally lost. Part of me wants to take no photo's and give into my blah feelings, but I know that will never accomplish anything. What it might accomplish is something that seems very counter productive to what I had originally set out to achieve. Good question - what did I set out to achieve? Was it truly a deviation from my work, or was it something else? It's day four - profound meaning hasn't yet arrived.

I'm feeling low today, mainly about work. I got to thinking this morning that maybe I needed to make a TILT list and replace Thursday with Tuesday: Things I love Tuesday. I think it will make me feel better. It will help me focus on what I have rather than what I don't.

Things I Love Tuesday:
Chris ~ A roommate who makes me feel like a million bucks ~ laughter ~ discovering hidden paths near my house that have swings hidden in the lilac bushes ~ Schmonny Schmenkins ~ Loving and supportive parents ~ Friends who move from Scotland to Calgary ~ Upcoming vacations and concerts ~ New cookbooks ~ Dancing and singing to the music at Super Store ~ Chocolate ~ Hope in changing my situation ~ baseball practice ~ Making a commitment and sticking to it ~ Stretching, even though it's painful~ Anticipation of matching ink in August.

I feel better. My lunch today will be spent taking photo's. It will give me a chance to stretch in more ways than one.

Day Three - A Hint of Something Better to Come

The start of a work week can have different effects on different people. Some wake up, filled with excitement and anticipation of the week ahead, while others, hit the snooze button 3 times before finally realizing what time it is and rushing to get to work. Today, although happy, I neither felt excitement or dismay. I hit the snooze button once, but more out of principle than

necessity. It just seemed like the right thing to do at 6:20 this morning.

.


Today, while taking a stroll to pick up the office mail, the most pleasant smell crossed my nose, and within seconds, I was transported to another year and place: Collonge, France, Fall, 2005. The man standing next to me at an intersection had a Venti Starbucks drink, with a tiny white string rising from the inside and gracefully stopping half way down the cup. He was drinking Earl Grey tea. Everytime the wind pick up, the frangrance of tea found my nose and suddenly Calgary wasn't were my feet were planted. It was France. You see, I lived in France for one year. I attended a school that was atop a hilll and overlooked Geneva. On exceptionally good days, the Jet D'eau could be seen from my perch. Life couldn't have been more amazing. My roommate and I both had a love for coffee, but considering we didn't have access to a coffee maker (and the school never served anything decent), we improvised and came up with the next best thing - tea. But not just any tea. Earl Grey tea, with a touch of sugar and powered milk. Every morning, before heading to the cafeteria to grab breakfast, we would pour the hot water into our traveling mugs and watch the miracle unfold. If you have never had Earl Grey tea, graced with milk and sugar, you must immediatly go out and purchase the necessary ingredients. The taste is nothing more than sublime and you won't be disappointed. Caution: Don't blame me if you become addicted.

I'm curious to see what happens the more time I spend downtown, with my camera . I've been thinking that maybe I need to give myself mini-tasks. For example, take at least 5 pictures sitting at my desk, or take 5 pictures of other people's lunchs (ok, that one might be scary... I don't know how I would feel if someone asked me if they could take a picture of my lunch - seems like a private sort of affair.) None the less, you get what I'm saying.

Thank goodness tomorrow is Tuesday! Pictures will be posted on Wednesday morning.

Day Two - A walk followed by a shopping trip

Today was the Enerflex MS walk in Calgary. My cousin has MS. She is 25. Although they say it isn't genetic, I have to wonder. My great Grand Mother had MS, so I ask, what's not genetic about that? The V Team raised over $10,000 dollars for MS research. I have to admit that I am feeling rather shamed by not raising money, which was further amplified by my cousin. Great.


Find the camera and photographer in this photo. A where's Julie of sorts.

Day One - A Cold Kind of Day

When I first woke up this morning, the snow was falling like it was January - with one exception: There are leaves on the trees. I have to ask, why is it snowing in June? And until the sun came out, the snow stayed most of the morning. It made for the perfect day to stay inside and watch movies, sleep and move as little as possible. My kind of Saturday.



The proof is on the delivery truck (and this was taken at 10:30 this morning).



Grocery stores contain many hidden jewels that go unappreciated. Have you ever stopped to take a look at the symmetry, color and typography? It truly is a visual master piece. Today I stopped to take a minute, take a picture and take a second glance.

Once the sun came out, everything melted. Anything red against a gray backdrop is amazing.

The first of many photo's to come. Whenever I visit my friend Stacey, I almost think that these houses were picked up out of a toy village and placed in Mackenzie Town. I love the way the look.

Quick before I have too many tapes fire!

I've got about 100 ideas racing through my head, along the with 101 negative things that I am saying with it. We humans are so terrible at creating our own demise. That said, I've decided that I need a project. Not any project, but rather a project that challenges me, forces me out of my comfort zone, and stretches me in all directions. I tell myself that "Life begins outside my comfort zone" and yet, I've been sitting in my bubble for a little too long now. Things are too comfortable. I've become boring, in a comfortable sort of way.

Time for my Stretch Assignment.
A little background information:

1. I have a degree in photography from a tiny little university in the South West corner of Michigan. My photography classes were 10% theory and 90% shooting. My skills improved exponentially in proportion to the amount time spent behind the camera. Oh course I had assignments, but again, it was all camera-in-hand time. To date, one of my favorite assignments was choosing a subject, and taking 720 pictures of the same thing. My subject was feet. Yes folks, I have 720 pictures of feet. It was my project, my stretch (although I didn't see it at the time) and my achievement. There were tears, frustrated sighs and banging of my head against the wall, but in the end, I became better. I began to see feet in a whole new way. Feet become almost secondary to how my skills and photographic eye changed and became better.

2. In reading people's blogs, biographies and general tips about life, I've come across a reoccurring theme, time and time again. Practice makes perfect. Cliche, I know, but it's true. I look to Julia Child as my cooking inspiration: she cooked more things that were totally pathetic, before she became the American hero for French food. My photography inspirations are Richard Avedon, Annie Leibovitz, and my friend Richard Choi (among others). There are thousands of photos that will never see a magazine or light table, but that's not the point. The point is, they took so many photographs, even when they were terrible, and kept pushing forward, one photograph at a time, until they became the people they are today.

3. I have often wondered why I moved back to Calgary. I don't believe that it was my choice. It was my decision yes, but with the depth of my being, I believe that something bigger than myself was at work. I have come to accept and love (most of the time) the fact that I live in Calgary, but the lingering question as to why, still pops up every once and a while. Maybe it's time time shift my thinking and not wonder why, but ask, why not? Maybe it's time to turn the negative tape I have about living in Calgary into one of love, acceptance and peace?

4. In the last couple of days, I've read some interesting things. First, there is a Flirk group that has people take one photograph of themselves a day and post it. They must do this for 365 days. (I was presented the challenge in University about taking one photograph a day - if that doesn't sound hard, I ask you to think again. It's a lot harder than you think.) Second, I was sent a link for the 101 things in 1001 days challenge. This involved making a list of the 101 things you wanted to do in 1001 days. It doesn't have to be huge elaborate goals, but rather things you want to accomplish in 1001 days. One woman made pizza dough from scratch. You go girl!

The Assignment

Here is the deal: For the next 365 days, I am going to take my camera everywhere, take a minimum of 5 pictures a day, posting the top 5 every day on my blog and write about what I have seen through the lens of a camera. This will be a huge stretch for me, Why? Although I love the camera and what I can capture with it, it also intimidates me. And, further to this, I love taking photo's of people. So, unless I am taking pictures of myself all the time, I will be forced to talk to people and step out from behind my shyness.

Start Date: June 6, 2009

End Date: June 6, 2010

Stay tuned, the adventure starts tomorrow. I'm nervous already. Shit.

D'Ode - Ode to the Doughnut

It's Thursday. The weekend is in sight and the blissful feeling I get when I think about sleeping in on Saturday morning is enough juice to get me through these last two days of work. I'm looking forward to a weekend of good food, friends and the fresh Canadian Rockies air.

A couple weeks ago, while cruising through my favorite food blogs, I happened across a recipe for baked doughnuts. Intrigued, I investigated a little further and was promised that, if I could make pizza dough, I had doughnuts in the bag. I was all excited to try the recipe, when it hit me that making doughnuts while on a cleanse was probably the worst punishment I could do to myself. This didn't stop me from tucking the recipe in my mental "to try" box, with plans to create these treats later. And that's exactly what I did last night. I made doughnuts, missing centers and all. What a delightful experience from a challenge perspective. First, the dough was much heavier than pizza dough and secondly, this dough had eggs in it, which my go-to recipe for pizza dough doesn't. As the dough sat rather lump like on my stove, I was more than certain that I had a failed attempt. But, as the saying goes "a watched pot never boils"- a watched dough never rises. Maybe I shouldn't have been so hasty to doubt the wonders of yeast and a little heat, because on my counter sit 15 (slightly misshaped) doughnuts.

As for my D'ode:

Dear slightly warm, sugary doughnut,

You make me happy. You make others smile with delight and you have so many fewer calories than your fried cousins. For this reason alone, I will make you again, as I know you won't let me down. For in this life, you need fail safe friends that never leave you or cause you to doubt yourself. I can see our friendship blossoming. We will be BFF's.

Love,
Julie

A WOW! Kind of Day

What a weekend! I can't believe that round two of my photography project has come and gone. It started Friday night with a quick set up and a testing of the lights, and then began Saturday at 8:00am. 15 minute intervals were booked for people, but sometimes people took less time. Jake the horse made an appearance, as did Hedgy, the hedge hog. We also had cats and dogs, trumpets, fresh eggs and snuff. It was an everything goes kind of day.

I'm thankful for parents that sat and helped me all day. My dad was on the computer and my mom was having people fill out model releases. I couldn't have done it without them!

Now comes the task of putting it all together, fixing all the necessary images and arranging to have it all up for a gallery in the early part of September. I'd say tentatively mark your calenders for September 12! Until then, I will slowly leak a few photo's and ask for some honest feedback.

P.S. The scones were a hit - Recipe to come!

The Faces of High River 2

Here we go again High River (and all those who are willing to driving to High River to have your picture taken).

Last year, around this time, I set up a photography studio and for 8 hours took photos of anyone in High River that was willing to stop by, spend 15 minutes and sit in front of a camera. I must admit, that my modest goal of 25 people was surpassed and the turn out was amazing. End of day, 33 people have sat on the stool, 1500+ pictures were taken and 7.35 GB of digital memory were used. Elated doesn't begin to describe my feelings! 

So, a year later, we are doing it again. This time, with a twist. It was suggested by the wonderfully talented Annie that I should use the idea of "2" as a means to a) change things up a bit, and b) add some flavour. So here it is: In order for you to get your photo taken, you must either bring another person (2), an object that you connect with (2) or an outfit or uniform that is you (2). Can you see a pattern? The theme of 2.

I got wind of a slightly insane rumor, but it was proved true last Saturday. I was informed that there was a gentleman who wanted to have his picture taken with his horse. I laughed - how was a horse going to fit into the art gallery where I will be taking photo's? But, no word of a lie, I met the man himself (and I will meet the horse, Jake, next Saturday). If that doesn't set the tone for a great day, I'm not too sure what will?

So, even if you aren't from High River, but want to have a great afternoon drive, some homemade baked goods (I'm trying my hand a croissants, scones and muffins), and your face forever part of The Faces of High River 2, stop by. I'd love to see you.

Have a great Easter. I'm looking forward to drowning in a sea of Cadbury Mini Eggs!

The Motivation of Butter

Yesterday was a bad day. To be more exact it was painful. When the clock stuck 11, I was sure it was close to 4:30, and as the hours tolled away, the pain increased with each passing moment.

10:30 - Hired a new CFO to come dig our company out of 3 weeks worth of paperwork

11:30 - Fire the only man left in the company

11:45 - CEO vows to take legal action against man just fired.

12 - 3:30 - invoicing and shuffling of human hours to make estimates look proper and to keep the bosses wife off my back.

3:30 - Bosses wife emails with a statement that wasn't intended to "point the finger" but when your name is in the "to:" box, it's not hard to see where the finger is pointing.

To put it bluntly, after about 10am, I was ready to start drinking, heavily. The situation was such, that drinking sounded like the only possibly option.

When I got home, I was torn between sitting on the couch, potato chips in hand, feeling sorry for myself or going to stuff my bad day into some retail therapy. Retail therapy won, and I donned my coat on and headed to Costco.

Now Costco is a large place, filled to the brim with clothes, electronics, and other shiny things. I made a quick visit to the book section, took a peruse through the sporting goods, meandered through the women's clothing, but none of these items rested in my cart. Upon final check out, I left with 3 pounds of unsalted butter, Olive Oil, 3 types of cheese, a litre of cream and chips (the healthy kind). These items became my motivation for getting through the week. Having the ingredients on hand to make whatever my heart desired was enough to keep me smiling at work, happy with myself and motivated to keep pressing forward.

Often times, we don't reward ourselves for a job well done or an achievement made. I believe this is a crime - in its worst form. At the end of the day, we have the biggest let down of all - We've let ourselves done. Celebrations should be required every time I push myself to do something, and achieve that something. I think I'm going to institute a new rule: I reward myself every time I achieve something I've set out to achieve. Yesterday, it was merely getting through my day. I did. I wasn't particularly happy yesterday at 4:32pm, when I finally pushed open the doors and inhaled fresh air, but I made it. Time for a reward. Butter to some might seem like a waste of time and money. For me, it was the ultimate incentive.

So, maybe instead of beating ourselves up for everything little thing we do wrong, we should celebrate everything little thing we did right. Wouldn't we be a whole lot further ahead? I'm bound to have more bad work days, but I know that the power of butter will keep me motivated to keep smiling when I am right in the thick of it.

There are frozen blueberries in my breakfast this morning. I froze them fresh last August. They make me think of summer. Oh how I miss summer. The long days, the high heat, and the ability to see the sunshine from about 6:30am to 11:00pm. I think winter is laughing at me, because it's snowing today and a good 10 degrees colder than freezing. Wasn't the first day of spring this past weekend or am I missing something? When will the change come? When will the day come when I don't have to wear sweat pants under my skirt, two sweaters under winter jacket and an extra pair of socks?

Change.

I have recently had a few conversations with people around the topic of change. The consensus is, it's a very scary thing. I agree. Moving from where I am, to where I want to be is a lot easier in theory than it is in practice.

I think about change all the time. Where I want to be, where I want to travel, the changes I will need to make in order to accommodate the lifestyle I want...and yet, they are all words, because I continue to sit here and do nothing about it. It seems easier. For now at least.

I have come to realize that the biggest change of all comes when a number of little steps are taken, all in the same direction. When I take one small step tomorrow that will create another step the next day, change is occurring. These small steps seem easier to deal with and I am better equipped to handle the situation - one small step at a time. I often times don't know what the next step is, or where it's going to lead me. That's ok. At least it's movement.

A colleague of mine is at a cross-roads. On the hunt for a new job, she is unhappy where she is, and hopes to find something new that will challenge her again. A couple days ago, she received a phone call for a company out west, and the fear started as well as the excuses. Everything you can imagine came forth as to why she couldn't take the job, should she get it. The change would be too great.

Fear is the tag along friend of change; Although fear isn't really a friend at all. Fear is the voice in your head that puts you down and says nasty things about you. Fear is the hold that prevents us from getting more of what we want out of life. Fear is....an opportunity to be courageous. Although fear seems to come along uninvited, it doesn't need to control or dictate my thoughts and actions. I allow fear to take that control.

I will wait for summer, as I know the earth is slowly tilting back towards the sun. Small steps, every day. Soon I won't have to eat frozen blueberries - I can eat them fresh from the container.

Me Time

I'm so happy it's Friday. It hasn't necessarily been a bad week, its just that when the weekend comes, I can breath an internal sigh of relief. I don't have to get up at a certain time, I don't have to answer to clients and/or bosses and I am free to do as I wish. Saturday and Sunday are my days for me time. It's hard during the week to give yourself medicine when there are so many people wanting your time and attention.

As a human beings, we give of ourselves every day. We give to our jobs, friends, family, stranger on the street, dog next door, guy in the elevator, ETC. and with all this continual giving, we end up feeling empty, drained (often both physically and emotionally) and exhausted. For those of us who are chronic givers (and yes, I am using chronic in the negative sense, and yes, I am a chronic giver) we often times continually give until we have a major melt down. I think I am doing the right thing, giving all the time, making everyone else happy (or so I think), but it's not making me happy. In the end, I sometimes cry for no reason, become angry and judgmental, hold grudges, pointing fingers and every other classic symptom of a temper tantrum. I ask though, is it really someone else's problem? Of course it's easier to point the finger, and place the blame somewhere else, but really, is it their fault? I would argue that, for the most part, no. Here's why: I can't give to the people around me until I have properly and wholly given to myself first. Period.

Spending time in the kitchen, creating something from scratch is my gift to myself. Call me on the weekend, and I can almost guarantee that there is either something in the over, on the stove or cooling. Me time. Medicine.

Last weekend's medicine was pizza dough. A friend came over for supper and a gab session. Pizza was on the menu. I chopped up a variety of ingredients, pulled the dough out of the freezer, and voila, instant dinner. Once you go homemade, it's extremely difficult to return to cardboard covered in plastic. Pizza is a simple food with an amazing amount of potential. Only thing limiting you is your imagination.

I made the dough beforehand and froze it into two portions. It's extremely easy, fast and a lot less work than you think. Pull the dough out of the freezer about 3 hours before you are going to eat, roll it out, smoother it in sauce and toppings and into the oven for 12 minutes at 425 degrees.


Basic Pizza Dough
Adapted from the New Best Recipe Cookbook
Makes 1 large pizza or two medium sized pizza's.

1/2 cup warm water (about 110 degrees)
2 1/4 teaspoons traditional yeast
1 1/4 cup water at room temperature
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
4 cups flour (all purpose works great)
1/2 teaspoon salt

Place warm water and yeast in a bowl and let sit for five minute. In a separate bowl, combine the flour, and salt. Add the remaining water and oil to the yeast mixture. While stirring constantly, add the water/yeast/oil mixture to the flour and stir until all ingredients are combined. If the dough seems too dry, add additional water in small increments. Similarly, if the dough seems to moist, add additional flour in small increments. Once you have the desired consistency, remove the dough from the bowl and knead by hand until the dough is a smooth elastic ball (around 10 minutes).

If you are using a mixer, start with the paddle attachment until all the ingredients are combined and have pulled away from the edges switch to the dough hook and let it work for about 5 - 7 minutes.

If you are using a food processor, pulse all ingredients (in the order listed above) until they start to pull away from the edges and form a ball, remove from the machine and knead for 10 minutes by hand.

In a slightly oiled bowl place the rounded dough. Cover first with plastic wrap, and then a tea towel, and let rest in a warm place for 2 hours, or until the dough has doubled in size. Once the dough has risen, punch it down and remove from the bowl. At this point you can either roll it or freeze it depending on your needs!