We did it! Ina In A Year launched, and I am officially having the most fun. You made this week amazing by showing up online, in person, and engaging with me in spectacular fashion on social media. Thank you. (Spoiler: the ice cream never froze.)
I also feel like I am fully immersed in a crash course called How To Get In Over Your Head And Live To Tell About It. It’s fine. It’s going to be fine. I think it’s going to be fine. It will probably be fine. It’s fine.
Here’s what we talked about this week….
We have officially entered flu season. I am not a flu-shot-getter, because I can’t wrap my head around paying money on something that is not guaranteed to even be the right strain. If you are a flu-shot getter, I mean no disrespect. Anyways, I heard a statistic this week that stunned me. Last year, 80,000 people died from the flu. EIGHTY-THOUSAND. Granted, this number is above the “normal” of 12,000 to 50,000 deaths each year, according to the Center for Disease Control, but how is this possible? Eighty-thousand flu deaths stuns me.
What happened to just checking out? I walk into a store, I find a nail polish I want to purchase, I take the polish to the register, and I am prepared to give the store money in exchange for the polish. It is a very simple transaction. Or, it used to be. Now I have to go through an interview process before I can engage in commerce. Are you part of our reward program? Would you like to join our reward program? Do you have an email on file with us? Do you have your bonus points today? What’s your phone number? Would you like to donate to our cause of the week? I recognize that the employees are just doing as they are told, but I dread the check out process at most large retailers. Please take my money, give me my item, and let’s both move along. What ends up happening is I gear up emotionally while waiting for my turn, then I arrive at the register, look the attendant in the eye and inform them that I do not want to do/give/join/answer anything except to pay for my item. It always throws them for a loop, and no matter how kindly I say it, they frequently give me dirty looks. I don’t care. Give me my nail polish and have a nice day.
Do you take ice baths? A certain someone on our staff does. And she swears they are the best thing ever. We peppered her with questions about how, why, when, how long. The process, though unconventional, sounds oddly amazing. She says the energy rush is unlike anything, and she has noticed a change in the skin on her legs as well as a feeling of exhilaration and well-being. I’m not sure I’m ready to sit in a tub of ice-water, but I am curious.
And speaking of ice, did you know you cannot travel in a closed car with dry ice? It’s true. If you were, let’s say, traveling cross country with frozen breast milk and were trying to keep it frozen, you might put it in a cooler with dry ice. But, you would not be advised to keep the cooler in the car with you while you drive, unless you want to potentially kill yourself or your baby. As dry ice “melts” it turns into carbon dioxide. In a closed environment, the CO2 will slowly begin to replace all of the oxygen, and you will find yourself unable to breath. Who even knew?
Get out your maps. The Netherlands is a country comprised of twelve provinces. Holland is part of the Netherlands, but it is not a country. Holland refers to two provinces of the Netherlands (North Holland and South Holland). People in The Netherlands (including Holland) speak Dutch. Denmark is a completely different country. People in Denmark speak Danish. Don’t be fooled by the succinct nature of the preceding report. We sounded like fools trying to get all of this straight on Thursday.
Elizabeth (pictured above) and I are not related. She is not my daughter. I am not her mother. We are not sisters. She is not a cousin. We are in no way related by blood. But thank you for asking, because I cannot think of a better compliment.
I heard something beautiful this week, and I wish I could remember the name of the author who said it. It was an off-hand comment, in reference to a chapter of a book he had written. He said that grief is a kind of faith. We decide to engage in the grieving process, to go through the emotional and physical work of mourning and processing our ocean of feelings because we have hope that along the way, we will heal. We have faith that the process of grieving will move us forward and take us to a different place than where we are when the loss occurs. I love this idea so much.
This week I had two “celebrity chef” appearances, which always makes me laugh because let’s be honest, celebrity is a silly word. And in a room full of chefs, I am the obvious winner in a game of One Of These Things Is Not Like The Other. I don’t say that out of self-hate or false humility. I know I am a good cook. But bona fide chefs have a certain something that I can’t really absorb as part of my personality. They wear white coats and head scarfs. I show up in a silk skirt and statement earrings. Maybe I could change the title from “celebrity chef” to “respected recipe follower.” It has a nice ring, no?
Have a lovely weekend!
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