Missing the TV

Against all odds, Blair and I have stuck to the "no TV" rule we put in play in January. We now record two shows each week - The Big Bang Theory and The Biggest Loser and watch them when we can skip over commercials. We're also allowed to watch movies as the point was to reduce the mindless clicking from channel to channel that ate up hours of our time. 

The first two months were great. I was amazed at how much TIME I had on my hands with no TV. Plus, we seemed to be using our new extra time productively, getting to long put off chores or doing extras like painting my writing room.

The buzz has tapered off however, and recently I find myself longing to fling down on the couch for a mindless two-hour TV session. Part of it is the quiet. I'm home alone all day working, which is fine. I have no desire to watch TV then. But once Blair comes home and we've eaten and chatted, we might each settle in with a book or laptop and then the quiet gets to me. I want noise. Conversations. Even if they're not my own. I want to watch people interacting and laugh at the contrived situations a show's writer has come up with. I want to be engaged in something that doesn't require me looking at a computer screen. I am an avid reader but a little variety now and again would be nice.

I think what's needed is a new "to do" list of activities. We made a list when we started this endeavour and I have no idea where it now resides, if that tells you anything. I do remember we had "play chess" on there. It's been over 2 months and so far the chess set has been dragged out not once. What is happening is that we're going to bed earlier. I don't think the point of no TV should be to get bored and turn in early. That's just sad. 

What can we do instead? Off the top of my head... 

• Go for a walk. Yeah, it's cold. So what? Suck it up.
• Work out with weights. Another New Years resolution fallen by the wayside.
• More sex (We're married. It's allowed.)
• Play games. It doesn't have to be as mentally consuming as chess. There's cards, Trivial Pursuit, and a host of board games in our cabinet.
• Go out or have people over. This is admittedly a challenge as we live so far out in the boonies. But it wouldn't kill me to drive in to Winston to meet Blair for dinner, or find a mid-week play to attend.
• PHOTOS.  We have, let's see, I'd say about a BAZILLION digital photos that need organizing. Sorted into categories on the computer, bad ones deleted, good ones printed out. I also want to start a photo wall in our hallway and we need to select photos for that as well.
• Home repair - one of the never ending joys of living in a historic home is that something is always falling off, falling down, or in need of a good nail or two.
• Kitty Time. For as much as we love our girls, sometimes they get the short end of the stick attention wise. A rousing 2-minute game of "Chase the Laser Light" each night would likely be welcomed.
• Questions. I love things like The Book of Questions that stimulate far-ranging conversation. Blair, while not as big a fan as me, is at least usually willing to play along. 
• Brainstorm for things such as new fund-raisers for APSRC. Spend time on APSRC related activities.

Okay, I'm tapped out for the morning. But please, please, post your ideas on how we might spend our time. I think this craving the TV is but a momentary lull. Help us get through to the other side! =)

Crab_People

My regular readers are by now aware of my on-going Twitter addiction. I Twitter as Lucy_Cat, which means I spend large parts of each day thinking of new and funny things a cat might say that more often than not revolve around poo.

Anyway... a hermit crab called Crab_People started following my posts. It's Twitter etiquette to follow those who follow you, so I clicked on the follow button and added a message to Crab_People that said something like, "Nom nom nom," which is Twitter cat talk for "Tasty!"

Crab_People sent me back a message and accompanying photo which I now share with you. Is Twitter a waste of time? Probably. But it makes up for it by the laughs it provides. Crab_People's response:

"You sure you want to go down this road?"

Salmon Pastry Puffs

When I saw her in November, my sister gave me a recipe book she'd put together for me, complete with subject index, pictures, and the necessary level of dumbed-down Dena directions. Still, I had to phone her yesterday for help.

"Guess what?" I said when she picked up the phone. "I'm going to make your salmon pastry puffs recipe tonight."

"You'll love it," she replied. "Best quick dinner ever."

"Riiiight," I said. "Hey, one question. Um, what's a puff pastry?"

After she walked me through where to find them ("Go to frozen foods near the pie crusts," were my marching orders) and stopped laughing at me (rude), she again emphasized what a delicious meal this was and that I could even use it for entertaining.

Maybe. I haven't had a lot of luck with salmon recipes so I didn't get my hopes up.

Oh. My. God. People--this is a life-changing recipe. SO GOOD. I ate myself sick last night but didn't want to waste an ounce of food. Delish, delish, delish. Definently a new favorite in the Harris household.

So Nicole, I hope you don't mind my sharing the recipe but it's too good--and too simple--to keep secret. Here it is, complete with my sister's italics which are code for "Dena, don't mess this up."

SALMON WITH PUFF PASTRY & PESTO

• 4 pieces of purchased puff pastry, each cut to be just larger than a piece of salmon
• 4 (4-6 oz.) pieces salmon
• 1/4 cup sliced almonds
• 1/4 cup purchased pesto
• 2 tomatoes, sliced

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F.

On a foil-lined baking sheet, place the 4 pieces of puff pastry. Also place the 4 pieces of salmon, being careful to make sure they are not touching (don't cook them on top of the puff pastry.) Sprinkle each piece of salmon with 1 tablespoon of the sliced almonds. Bake for 10 minutes.

To serve, place each piece of puff pastry on a plate. Top each pastry with 1 tablespoon of pesto. Top the pesto with 2 slices of tomato each. Top the tomatoes with the salmon and serve.

Serves 4  / Prep Time: 5 minutes  /Cooking Time: 10 minutes

The Night of the Sticky Floor

About 6 months ago my friend Melody asked if I had any interest in hearing live bands.

"No," I said.

I am the last person you want to go hear live music with. I don't like the smoke and crowd of bars. I resent having to yell to have a conversation with a friend. And most of the "music" sounds like instruments being thrown down stairs.

Which is why Melody and I were both surprised when, last night, I agreed to go hear--are you ready for this?--PUNK bands at the restaurant/bar across the street from where we'd just come from a meeting.

I had fun. I felt old, standing in a room with 21-year old kids with mohwaks, green hair, studded belts, and--God love them, they're so young--a fedora or two. I wanted to rip the cigarettes out of their hands and say, "Sure, you look 'cool' now, but in fifteen years you're going to be a stale-smelling, pucker-lipped, nicotine addict. Don't do it!" But I enjoyed some of the music and it was fun to be out and about, talking girl talk and pointing out which guys we would have been interested in if we were twenty years younger and single. I rolled in about 11:30, which is equivalent to 3 AM in most peoples worlds.

I've showered and I swear I still smell like smoke. But as I said, it was fun. Great fun. I'll probably become a regular on the punk band indie scene.

Holla.