weekend update, december 8, 2013

“What you do with your resources

 in this life is your autobiography.”

Randy Alcorn

What did your to do list (assuming that you had the time and energy to write one) look like at the beginning of last week?
Here's one I found when I searched for an all purpose December get-er-done kind of checklist:

so. there are people in the world who can do all of this
and then make a cute picture thingy out of it.
I may just quit procrastinating and give up now.

Here's my own list for the week, not nearly so pretty, and much less ambitious:

or maybe more ambitious,
depending on your point of view.
not that it matters, since I didn't accomplish either list.

Those of you who have all of December's tasks accomplished and are able to light a balsam-fir scented candle and enjoy December's delights, I hold you in awestruck esteem.  Your resource management skills are a wonder on par with the way that milk, sugar and chocolate turn into fudge.
And though I hate admitting it, I know that though I may feel like a tortoise

and not the ninja crime fighting kind,
or the kind that eventually wins the race,
just the slow kind.

I am really swimming at one end or another of the same pool of resources as everyone else.
Time, energy and money.
Managing the three during the Holidays is like playing with resource Legos- a little energy from here to there, a little money clicked onto this from this, a little less sleep, a little time from this stack onto this one. The second law of Thermodynamics warns about this sort of thing, or at least I think it does. 
After days of confusion and curiosity, I think I can sum up part of the second law by quoting the eternally swoon-worthy poet Yeats:

"Things fall apart"

And we all know what happens when Legos fall apart.

It's no use wasting time and energy digging yourself into a pit of despair about a lack of time or energy either. Simple geography would lead one to believe that if you dug that pit deep enough, you'd come out on the opposite side of the planet,  where you'd have time and energy and money to do your list and help with everyone else's, and lots of time besides for drinking nice beverages.

To my perpetual surprise, that is not what happens.

So I'd resolved to do my best with what I had, when I realized that I'd made a slight seasonal miscalculation. In July, it seems to me that the heat of a Texas summer can melt things to a standstill like a T-rex caught in a tar pit. But then winter tucks in a sheet of ice,

and I realize I was wrong.
It's when things get cold that they slow to a stop.

All of this week's plans for errandy expenditures of energy turned into home-bound cyber-shopping and cookie icing and reading and lending a cold little mittened hand to the home audience, as he lumberjacked a few hundred pounds of downed tree out of the alley.

What a lovely few days of enforced rest! And a good thing that we had a kitchen full of stuff for pot after pot of warming soup- 

here were the stand outs:

Paula Deen's gumbo. I know, if you grew up in New Orleans, this is not the real deal. But it's an easy, quick to prep dinner, a nice shift from more standard soups and stews, and it changed my mind about gumbo. This is a super forgiving recipe, the kind invented by frugal cooks who had a little sausage, a little shrimp, a little chicken and put it all into one delicious pot. With that in mind, and because we had leftover bits of three kinds of sausage, this gumbo was all sausage and shrimp without chicken.  You can stay true to the spirit of a recipe like this even when you decide not to stick to the letter of it. 

The real surprise of the week was this super nice tortilla soup.

Tortilla soup- the simple broth over chips, chicken and avocados- is one of life's simplest treats, so I was skeptical/curious about this version. A packet of ranch dressing as seasoning? It seemed impossible! And yet we had that freezer bag full of leftover taco meat...

So yummy! So fast! So easy!
This is a happy surprise keeper of a recipe.
It'd be just as great with leftover brisket
or chicken, or with extra beans instead of meat.

If you have leftover brisket or pork or chicken and don't want soup, the Jailhouse chili was as simple as chopping an onion and opening three cans, and much better than opening a can of chili. 

The only disappointment in the line up were the Curried Chicken pitas. Nothing horrible, just not the "when can I eat more of that!" reaction we've had to other curried chicken salad recipes. Here's my plate, fixed as  lettuce wraps because the Thanksgiving gluten-fest has reached its necessary end:

The fail was  probably due to user error- we were out of mayo, so I used all plain yogurt in the dressing. Or maybe it was our curry powder. Which is maybe a little stale.  Oh well, I did the best I could with what we had, and next time, I'll do better.  

Because I think that it matters.

I think it matters, that when you

 feel yourself at the end of your resources;

 out of time, out of strength, out of money-

 you gather to your spent self every

remaining thread of hope, and love,

and courage you can find,

and try to nudge your world 

toward better.

Because every time you do that, you prove

that there are ways to manage resources

that transcend checklists and spreadsheets and create

the best sort of global warming.