Pot Luck

After the bread challenge and trying to start this neighborhood group, I suddenly realized it was time to do something that I am so very comfortable doing: having a party.

Now, when I say I'm comfortable having a party, this might give you the wrong impression. Here is the kind of party I love to give, and have since forever. Invite a bunch of people over (one might even say...too many people), ask everyone to bring something to eat, stress the fact that it's very casual, and try to set everyone's expectations very low. The key is that everyone I invite is really nice, and I have to make a point to keep the preparations simple, simple, simple. 

Then people arrive, and the party has itself while I float around in a succession of half-finished interrupted conversations. And here's what always happens. It happened in Austin when I was single. And it happened the other day with neighborhood families: everyone is really pleased and friendly and wants to get to know each other, and they eat and chat and figure out who they know in common, and have  a great time. 

And I know everyone, at least a little, and like everyone, and don't really get to talk to anyone, but I just bask in the warm glow of a developing network of friends. 

Showing Up vs. Getting Out There

I have lived in a number of places. And, sooner or later, I always make friends. It goes along with my belief that no matter where you live, you can find the great things, the great people, the great foods, the great festivals, that make that place special and that you can love.


This is how I make friends: I show up. 


It doesn't always work. I showed up every week to ballroom dance class in Austin, TX: no friends. I showed up every week to story time at the library in Cleveland, OH: no friends. I showed up every week to Playgroup for Kids Born in 2006 in Syracuse, NY: no friends. 


But usually it works. I show up to school. I show up to work. I show up to class. I show up to Prenatal Pilates. I show up to Baby and Me. I show up to preschool birthday parties. I show up to school volunteer meetings. I show up. I show up. I show up. And, eventually, I make some really, really, really awesome friends. 


This, to me, is "getting out there." 


Now, I am not a leader. I am much better sitting to the side, watching, helping, doing whatever is asked. Going above and beyond as much as possible, but never being the place where the buck stops. 


Another thing about me is that I often have these ideas. Some are big ideas. Some are ideas for other people. But I think about them for a few days, sometimes intensely, at 4 am, then all day, too. And then, 93% of the time, I get over them; 5% of the time, I try to convince someone else to try them; and maybe 2% of the time, I try them. You know. If they're small. And not too ambitious.  


Taking care of little kids, which, for hours at a time can involve 90% of your hands but only about 10% of your brain, is an atmosphere where I can spend lots of time thinking up ideas I never get to try out. 


One part of The Happiness Project book is about pursuing the Big Ideas and also not being afraid to fail. Finding the fun in failure, she says. So this year, I have been trying to try these ideas that I get excited about, to see if they're any good or not. 


That's where this blog came in. And the February Bread Challenge. And my glass etching hobby. And the neighborhood group I'm trying to start. Trying these ideas are ways of pushing myself. I talked in another post about different kinds of pushing yourself. The blog and the glass etching challenge me within my comfort zone, while giving away bread and starting a neighborhood group throw me WAY out of my comfort zone. Way out. 


This is a new kind of getting out there. It goes beyond showing up. It is putting yourself right out there. In the street. With a sign around your neck. Naked. And yelling. At least, that's how it feels to me. 


And what I've learned so far is that 1) not all my ideas are good ones; and 2) putting myself out there makes me very, very, very uncomfortable.

The Curse of the Bunnies

So last week I started recruiting people to join the neighborhood group I am trying to start. I had originally started out with my husband and my two friends, L and J, on the Google Group for a couple weeks while I sent emails, letting them know about things I had changed on the website and what did they think; and lots of emails called "test" because I was trying to work out how the whole thing was going to work. I wanted to really get as many ducks in a row as possible before we "went live," because I didn't want to bug people with a bunch of emails they didn't need.

Finally, around Monday or so, I sent an email to the other 3 people in the group saying I thought we really were actually ready, and letting them know that they were welcome to start inviting people. On Tuesday, I invited 3 people. One joined. On Wednesday, I invited 5 people. Two joined. Plus, another one, who for some reason did not join, told me on Thursday that she had invited 12 other people to join! I was on top of the world, brimming with optimism. So I thought it was a good time to email the bunny lady and clear the air. (See previous post for more on why the air needed to be cleared.)

So I emailed her, and apologized for not having emailed before I showed up to accost her with baked goods last month. I told her that if she had poop to give away, I knew a couple of other people who were also interested, so to let me know. Whenever it was good for her. I went out of my way to not be pushy or to inconvenience her in any way.

And she emailed back, and said that on the morning I showed up, she had been working on a novel, and my visit had moved her from thinking to actually writing, so it was a good thing I had come by. This seemed like a very nice thing to say, and she told me she had 6 bags of poop and we could coordinate a time to come get however much we wanted.

AWESOME! I was starting a neighborhood group AND fixed things with the bunny lady. I felt like a million bucks. Then I had a great idea. I sent an email to the neighborhood group saying that if anyone was interested in rabbit manure for their garden, to let me know.

The next day, Friday, 2 people joined the group THAT I HAD NEVER EVEN MET BEFORE! We were up to 12 members, and I was making new friends! I decided I would have a potluck in a couple of weeks so everyone could meet all the new friends they were going to be making. It was awesome.

And then. And then, my two pals, who had so patiently suffered through email after email as they helped me work out the kinks of the new group, endured "test" emails out the wazoo, cheered me on, etc., sent a few emails back and forth, planning the details of a trip to get poop.

Let me say here that I am very concerned, always, with not sending the wrong email to the wrong people. You might even say I am mortally terrified of accidentally "replying all" when it's not appropriate. I double check--I triple check!--the "to" field before I send any email. But when I saw this exchange, I realized that L and J didn't know other people had joined the group! I quickly emailed from my phone to try to end the public planning, since I needed to coordinate with the bunny lady before we planned anything, anyway. And the only way I knew to be certain L and J got my email was to email the group, since I wasn't sure which email addresses they were checking. So, as I waited for my kids' parent teacher conferences to start, I dashed off an email saying it was great they were interested and I would contact the bunny lady and get back to them.

An hour later, when the conferences were over, I checked my email, and I felt like I'd been slapped. One of the two new members I'd never met before was apparently fed up with the 5 emails she had received on the subject and wanted off the list. It wasn't what she expected, she said. And, as she pointed out, she didn't have time for this, as she had a family to take care of. OUCH! Within a short time, the other new person had sent a brief but clear email to the group: "Unsubscribe Please!"

I was beside myself with embarrassment. Were all 7 other people on the list angry that I had tricked them into joining a group just so I could have an audience for planning 4-block car trips with my friends? Did everyone think I had no sense of Netiquette? Plus, I was confused. How many emails had she gotten?! Was everyone getting all kinds of stuff they weren't supposed to be getting?

So I got very upset, but composed what I think was a gracious response. I apologized to the group for the emails that should have been private, but pointed out that L and J, who had been helping me, were blameless. I took all the responsibility for the emails myself, explained that there was also a digest option to cut down on the number of emails received from the group in a day, and supplied the requested  information about unsubscribing (which, I did NOT point out, if the requestor had bothered to read the helpful Welcome Email I had sent her a few hours before, she would have already known). And I thanked everyone for their patience while we were still working out the kinks. "Since," I did NOT say, "you know, I created the group to be nice and to try to help everyone in the neighborhood, even though I don't really have time for this and I have a family to take care of."

As L pointed out later, the bunny poop is my downfall every time.

Why I think you should take a break from Facebook, and what I think you should do instead

I think Facebook lessens feelings of abundance. You compare yourself to all the stuff people post that gives a totally skewed view of how awesome their lives are. Plus, it's addictive. You actually get a little tiny burst of dopamine when someone comments on your post or likes your link. So you find yourself constantly checking, looking for the hit. It distracts you when you should be driving. Or working. Or cooking dinner. "I just need to look real quick..."

At least, that's how it is for me. Plus, there are certain political topics that I like to assume everyone agrees with me about, and it is possible to learn on FB that some very lovely people do not agree with you. But I have the thinnest of skin and would go so far as to call myself a Highly Sensitive Person, so the very absolute last thing I ever want to do is engage in any kind of political debate. I wish I were someone who wants to be informed and engage in a mind-enhancing back-and-forth of lofty ideas. But I don't. I want to preach to the choir, and only the choir.

So I have taken a break from FaceBook.

...and started a Neighborhood Group instead. I used Google Groups and Google Sites and Google Docs and Google Maps, and made a list serve and a website, and I'm trying, along with a friend, to get people to join. We started spreading the word last week, and we are up to a whopping, uh, 13 members. Including me and her and my husband.

Anyway, so now instead of getting the dopamine hit from FB, I am getting it from checking to see if anyone has asked to join the group or filled out the "neighborhood activity survey" or left comments on the site. But my hope is that the formation of this group may result in some actual face-to-face interactions. Meeting new people who live around the corner. A sense of non-virtual community. And I think that would really increase the feeling of abundance in my life.

I'll let you know how it goes, but I can tell you this: we will be trying very hard to avoid any political topics.

February Bread Challenge: Day 29

Boy. Am I glad that's over. I baked 2 loaves this morning, gave one to the school receptionist, and I was done!

What did I learn? Well, the whole project was meant to push my limits in terms of bread baking and in terms of connecting with people. It sort of pushed my limits in terms of bread baking. I found a REALLY EASY system to pump out bread with little effort that completely fit into my schedule and reliably produced two loaves of sandwich bread per day. Not the best bread, maybe, but pretty darn good when it was hot out of the oven. The requirement to give away bread each day, however, did not promote the experimentation and recipe innovation I had thought would be part of the project. I just wanted to make something that people would want to eat, so I played it pretty safe much of the time.

Another thing I found is that there are two kinds of pushing limits. One is pushing limits with something you are comfortable with, but upping the intensity. Baking bread every single day for one month. It took some work, and, I have to say, I feel giddy with not having to mix up any dough tonight. I feel good that I did it, and I now know that if the need arises, I can bake a lot of bread.

The other is pushing limits with something you aren't comfortable with. Throwing yourself into the deep end of the pool and making yourself swim to the side. Giving bread away to people I don't see on a daily basis was a continuing source of stress, concern, and confusion. But it was also a bigger source of satisfaction on some days than the baking was.

Giving bread to neighbors and friends whom I don't see all the time really did make me feel like I strengthened a bond with them, even though I did not magically become a master of the social interaction.

Then there is the category, maybe my favorite, that included the pediatrician, the OB/GYN, the banker who helped the kids open accounts, and the physical therapist. They seemed genuinely touched that someone took the time to express their appreciation for what they do. As my OB said, "Nobody EVER give me ANYTHING!"

Then there is the "going out on a limb category" that included the Ronald McDonald House, the Fire Station, and the bunny lady. At the first it went great, at the second they seemed unsure what to make of someone bringing them a giant boule, and at the third, well, you can read about that here. Those I was glad I did because I had set a goal and then I tried, but they were not really at all fun.

The project got a little old over the past week. In retrospect, my husband identified the 22nd as the day the project "jumped the shark."You may remember that Sunday the 18th I tried making bread with milk and honey and found it to be delicious. You may also remember that on Wednesday the 22nd I was hit with a mild but very queasy stomach bug that resulted in a feeling of disgust being associated with bread dough. Well, in between there I went a little crazy, so taken with the milk-honey mixture that I couldn't believe I hadn't done it sooner. This experimentation reached a fever pitch on Wednesday, when, egged on by my husband, I made a loaf with not only milk, but sugar, cocoa, mashed banana, and vanilla. This not-especially-chocolatey attempt at a chocolate bread is what I ate right before I got sick. I don't think it was actually bad-tasting, but bread dough made with milk started turning my stomach as it sat there in the bowl rising.

So that's it. I have pictures. I timed myself a few of the days. I have insights about the mechanics of bread making. And, of course, I have recipes that I hope to share in the coming days. But now I'm off to enjoy not making any bread.

Cha. Ching.

Our street has about 15 houses on it that were all built in the second half of the 80s by the same builder. At one time, there were 17 kids on the street and, it sounds like, everyone knew everyone. There was a block party every fall, and occasional progressive dinners. A lot of the same people still live here and haven't retired yet, but they have empty nests and not a ton of motivation to get out and make new friends. Pretty much everyone is pleasant, but we don't hang out or anything.

I haven't given away any bread since Friday, so today, as part of February Bread Challenge, I managed to give away 2 loaves. One was to a friend around the corner, who was delighted, and the other was to our next door neighbor, who we sort of know, but don't see much.

She held the warm bread, which was wrapped in a kitchen towel and smelled it. After initially seeming like she maybe was in the middle of something when she first answered the door, she seemed really excited about the bread. Then she said, "Have you talked to [the neighbor who knows everyone]?"

Me: No, not recently.

Neighbor: Well, we've been talking about doing a progressive dinner, like we used to...

Me (interrupting): Oh, that would be great!

N: ...and if you'd like to be included...

Me: We would definitely love to be included!

N: We will probably get together  sometime to plan it, I can let you know when that will be. It should be really fun...

I got back in the car so excited. That was just what I hoped would happen if I gave bread to the neighbors! A chance to socialize. Priceless.

Giving

So as I think I said before, baking bread everyday has turned out to be the easy part. The hard part is the giving away. I now realize that I'm always afraid that even something intended as a kind gesture will be seen as intrusive or inappropriate.

I have had to fight my tendency to scuttle up to my target, ashamedly hand them a loaf of bread while muttering something about having extra bread, and running off. Not exactly in line with my intention of making friends, strengthening ties, and learning about Syracuse. For example, my idea for bringing bread to the Ronald McDonald House came from friends who had brought strawberries there once after picking more than they could eat themselves. But I don't know anything about the RMH AT ALL, other than that it seems like the parents staying there might need all the homebaked bread and freshly picked strawberries they can get. The lady at the Ronald McDonald House seemed very happy to receive the bread, but my husband and I are both surprised that a place like that, which I assume is run by a large organization with lawyers, etc., would accept bread from a stranger showing up at the door. I mean, what if I had poisoned it, and then a guest there ate some! I can't imagine why anyone would do that to people staying at the RMH, but corporations don't like to take chances. But did I ask, while I was there, if they could accept these kinds of donations and if it was actually something they encouraged so I would know next time I wanted to bring them something? I did not.

I have decided that "I made you some bread" is probably a better opening, even if I feel that it's not strictly true since I usually don't know who is going to get it when I'm making it. I'm not really telling people about my Challenge or the blog; not taking pictures of people I'm giving bread to. Just keeping track every day of what kind I make and who gets it.

In another post I'll list who's been given bread as well as my recipe, because it's wicked easy, and you should totally try it.

FBC update and Intro to Treats

It is now Feburary 6, and I have so far made bread every day of February. Every day but yesterday, I have given a loaf away. Yesterday we had friends over and ate most of a loaf together, so I'm counting that.

Here are my thoughts so far:

• baking bread every day has not really been a hassle because I am doing it in a very stripped down way most days
• so far, I have not made any new friends by giving away bread
• since I often vary the variables (kinds of flour; amount of yeast, etc.) if I make one loaf in a day and give it away, I have no way to be certain if it's cooked through, if it's not as dense as a brick, etc.
• people seem very pleased to be given a fresh loaf of bread, even if you tell them you're not sure how it is because it comes out a little different every time: the pediatrician was so touched gave me a big hug
• I can overthink ANYTHING

Last winter when I first started making bread, fresh bread warm from the oven with plenty of butter was such a treat, that we would eat a bunch of it every time I made it. That, it turns out, is a really good way to get fat. Eventually, since I wasn't making every day, I got into the mindset that it would be good if we didn't run out of it right away, and so we got into the mindset of saving the bread, but not too long, because bread with no fat in it doesn't stay fresh forever. So it became a little bit of a rationing and controlling mindset about the bread. Not that I was denying anyone bread, but my approach changed from  "gobble it up (and get fat)" to "save it (and end up eating some pretty stale bread)."

I realized this the first couple of days of this month when I made 2 loaves each day, so we would have one to eat and one to give away. Knowing that there would be more bread the next day really put me  back in the "let's eat all the bread now!" mindset. Fresh bread became a treat again because I wasn't having a scarcity mindset about it.

But I wonder: does something you have every day really count as a treat?

February Bread Challenge, Day 1

I'm not going to post about this day-by-day, I don't think, because then I'd never post about anything else. But since it's the first day...

I mixed up dough for 2 loaves last night and figured out how I could come down at 5:50 when the alarm goes off, put the dough into pans and stick it in the oven. Then, using the "time bake" feature on our 1988 oven, not have to do anything else until taking it out of the oven at 7:30. This is a new routine, and that is one thing I hope to get out of this project: incentive to try new ways to bake bread--improvements, shortcuts, etc.--to see what works and what doesn't, thereby expanding my skills and knowledge. One thing I learned is that it can be hard to know if the oven's on when you're using "time bake", but if you start twiddling knobs in a panic, you are likely to turn off the oven and not realize it until later, at which point you will have no idea how long your bread has baked at what temperature. Another thing I learned is that you can turn the oven back on and guess about the time and the bread will still come out yummy.

Now, the other part of the challenge is what to do with all the bread. My lovely, generous, deserving friend Tina, whom I have mentioned before in regards to laundry, came over for tea and a visit this morning, and I thought giving her a loaf of bread would be the perfect start to this project, since the first time I met her and her partner and her daughter was when they signed up through the local mom's listserve and brought a meal to us after we had our baby after we moved here and knew no one. They are stunningly giving and ready to help other people in need. I am working on being more like them, but I have an awfully long way to go. Long story short: Tina's partner has celiac disease, and Tina thought it would take her forever to eat a loaf of bread, so we ate some together, and I'm going to give the other loaf to...someone else. 

Unresolved questions re: goals and procedures for FBC: is it that I'm making bread (loosely defined as either something with yeast OR a flatbread) every day? Or is it that I am giving away bread every day? Or both? I'm not sure. And I am thinking right now I will do it every day of the month, but we'll see how I feel on the weekend. Or tomorrow. I'm not making any promises here.

And, what the heck. I'll post a picture of the bread.

Crazy Idea?: February Bread Challenge

In The Happiness Project, the Gretchen Rubin occasionally gives herself a challenge, such as the Week of Extreme Nice. Here is her explanation:

What is “Extreme Nice”? It’s an extreme sport like bungee jumping or skydiving—pushing the envelope, exerting myself beyond my ordinary efforts, finding new depths in myself to meet the hardest challenges. And I can do it in my own home.

So this week I intend to be utterly nice to [my husband]. No criticism. No pestering. No bickering. Jumping up to do whatever he asks me to do, responding enthusiastically to his every suggestion.

Maybe I need a challenge like this? According to GR, being happier requires you to think about feeling good, feeling bad, and feeling right, in an atmosphere of growth. I have grown in many ways since becoming a mom 5 1/2 years ago, but these ways were largely chosen for me and out of necessity, by this or that Parenting Challenge. Now I finally feel like I can attempt a little growth for myself. I have a few areas of my life in mind that could use some attention, and this challenge would address a couple of them. Here's my idea: make bread every day for a month.

In order to get really good at something, in order to become an expert, you need to do it A LOT. Like, for 10,000 hours. I'm not proposing spending 20 hours/week for 10 years making bread. I don't need to do it that well. But it's certainly something I'd like to get better at, and I think a lot of baking for a few weeks would take me to the next level.

Gretchen Rubin also says that it's easier to do something EVERY DAY than to do it every other day or every few days. I have definitely noticed this with exercise. And with this blog.

But that would result in a lot of bread, especially considering that I am currently working on ways to increase efficiency by baking more than one loaf at a time and freezing the extra. Even though we have a pretty big freezer, 1 or 2 loaves a day for 29 days--or 21 days if I do only week days--or 25 days if I were to only take one day a week off--that would be a lot of bread. So there's another component to the Bread Challenge.

A friend from Cleveland, Emily, has been making pies (a. lot. of. pies.) since last summer, and blogging about it at her blog, Pie Eyed. A couple of months ago, she started giving away pie once a week to someone she encountered in her daily life who brightened her day: the oil-change guy; the lady at the convenience store; the guy who works as Subway. She calls it Pie It Forward. Maybe I could give away fresh-baked bread?

We have only lived in this area for 4 years, and the first couple I was either pregnant or taking care of a baby, and I don't tend to learn new areas very well, and I am not always one to jump in and meet someone new because I do a lot of second-guessing myself, and I always want to find ways to help the community but it can be a project to figure out where, say, Ronald McDonald House is and do they take used toys, or do they have a rule against it, etc.

So I think this would

1. Get me out in the community, meeting neighbors on our street as well as learning where a place like the Ronald McDonald House is;
2. Give me a chance to do something nice for other people, which will hopefully lift their spirits as well as my own;
3. Give me a chance to thank people who have helped me out in the past, like the Bunny Foster Home Lady who gave me a bucket of bunny poop for my garden and who works really hard helping bunnies find homes--gratitude is an important way to help you appreciate the Abundance in your life;
4. Get me chatting and connecting with new people--who knows? I may even make a friend, which would help me feel more Abundance; and
5. Help me to share what I have, which I believe is a big way to feel Abundance.

I don't know if or how I'm going to do it. If I do it, I will definitely post about it on my blog. I will leave you now with a quote I found on the Internet yesterday that probably doesn't really apply, but here it is anyway:

"Bread for myself is a material question. Bread for my neighbor is a spiritual one."  -- Nikolai Berdyaev

Abundance Measures, Part II

Continued from an earlier post. Continuing the list of things that can be ways to save money, but also create a greater feeling of plenty: Austerity Measures reframed as Abundance Measures.

• A garden. This one is sort of obvious, but, just think! With hard work, knowledge, and some luck, you can have so much zucchini you can eat it for dinner every night, share it with the neighbors, and still have to make loaves of zucchini bread to use it all up. I will try to post about my gardening adventures another time.
• Coupons. There are all these sites now that offer substantial deals on local or national products and services--even museum memberships! As with all shopping, one must be careful not to buy things one does not want or need just because it's half price. But I am always looking for ways to get to know our region, activities to do with kids, places to go on dates with my husband other than Home Depot, and new restaurants to try. We have gotten to try a lot of new things that have been really fun because of Groupon and LivingSocial. I also glance through those coupon magazines we get in the mail for new restaurants to try, and I have an old email account I use to get coupons from stores I go in often. 
• Memberships to local attractions if you have kids. Zoo, nature center, natural history museum. Even if the attractions in your area aren't world-class, if you have kids, they don't care. There's something so awesome about knowing you can go to the zoo FOR AN HOUR and not feel like you have to spend all day there to get your money's worth. And if you go often, the whole family starts to feel some familiarity and ownership of the place, and that, I think, is when you can really enjoy it. You know where the bathrooms are. You have a strategy for avoiding the giftshop. You know if there's a place you can eat a packed lunch. Plus, these kinds of things are great gifts to ask for from family who want to get you or your kids something but you feel like you already have more toys than you your kids can put away. 

Abundance at the Mall (but not the kind you expect)

Today I was at the mall a few miles from our house, returning things (I get so much satisfaction from returning things; it's almost perverse). It's not the biggest mall in our smallish city, and when we first moved to the area, I found it depressing, because it seemed like a lot of stores had recently closed, and I couldn't imagine/believe that we had managed to move to a city that was more forlorn than Cleveland. The economy was going down the tubes, and what is sadder than an empty mall? Plus, there was a branch of the library at the mall, which depressed me even further. Shouldn't the library be in a grand old building in the town center? Apparently we had moved to a city with no soul, or, at least, no town center.

But little by little, over the past 3+ years, a whole wing of the mall has become something new. As I walked along today, I realized most of the spaces are now occupied, and lots of them seemed quite busy. Here is a partial list:

• Niki's Party Place: bounce houses
• Black Mamba (indoor) Skate Park: today they were having girls' beginning roller derby, as well as skateboarding and scootering
• Buff Body Works: kickboxing
• Central NY Chapter NRHS: huge model railroad display
• CNY Boxing
• CNY Triathalon
• CORE Fitness
• Home Run Softball: people were actually in there batting
• Pools Brook Driving: golf
• Rhythms of Syracuse: after school music lessons
• Salt City Improv Theatre: classes and $5 performances
• Syracuse Kung Fu
• Syracuse Martial Arts Academy
• Syracuse Musketeer's Fencing
• Syracuse Project 4 Our Teens (The SPOT)
• CNY Gym Center: huge gymnastics place
• Branch's driving school: cars; not golf
• CNY Artists.com

These are in addition to a children's play area, the library, and a movie theater. The mall has really become a busy place, with people taking classes, bringing their kids to classes, walking the mall, meeting people at Dunkin' Donuts, etc. I love how the mall now feels like a town center, and since it's Syracuse, its being indoors probably isn't a bad thing. It turns out the town does have a soul, it just happens to be at the mall.

The mall took an economic difficulty and turned it into something that makes me feel rich: so much to do so close to home, all in one place. Talk about turning austerity into abundance.