Happy Trails

Tiiiiiiiiimber!!!!

This would be the other surprise I referenced earlier. 

Wednesday morning Salmaan and I both awoke with a start. The whole house shook, and after we realized we hadn't been dreaming, we turned on all the lights in the house to scope things out. Too sleepy to investigate thoroughly, we didn't see anything and went back to bed. This is what we were met with when the sun came up.

A top of a dead tree in our neighbor's yard just randomly fell, and...well...you can see the rest. We definitely had plans to expand the deck, but that was more like the two-year plan--not the tomorrow plan. 

We're getting an estimate on the damage tomorrow, and will see whether it'll be worth it to file a claim. The big worry is whether or not the roof was damaged in any way when it fell, as there is evidence that contact was in fact made. If the damage is less than the deductible, looks like we'll be doing it ourselves. Luckily, we have good neighbors--one of them owns a chainsaw, and the other just finished expanding his own deck himself. Both have offered to help us repair it should the need arise. You can't ever take good neighbors for granted, that's for sure. 'Cept for the one who didn't cut down his dangerous dead tree, of course.;-) Maybe it'll be a good opportunity to learn a bit of carpentry, who knows? Either way, does anybody want some firewood? 

Feeling Crabby?

I sure am! It wasn't the best weekend. Hubster has started to study for his Boards, and it's pretty serious stuff--like his profession's version of the Bar. So, big ball of suck. Plus, that feeling is back in the house again. That anxiousy, stressy, overwhelmed feeling that became so unpleasantly familiar last summer during the Bar. For both of us. And during that time, nothing ever really made it go away, except for when he listened to me, and helped me work through whatever I had to do that day in excruciatingly repetitive detail. This weekend I realized how amazing he was during that time, because now I'm trying to do the same thing for him, and I seriously suck at it. I selfishly want to get away from the ewwy feeling this whole process invokes...I've been there, and I don't want to go back. But I have to. I've got to find a way to do for him what he did for me. Now it's my turn to be less needy, and find a way to appreciate and make the best out of the time that we get to spend together. I hope I am able to rise to the occassion the way he did.

Furthermore, Saturday I had a very poopy knitting day. I was so excited because I was actually going to finish a project--a project I had started just because I knew I could finish it in a short amount of time...a beautiful cowl. When I got to the end and bound off, all I could see was how shitty the cast on looked, and how loose the first five rows were. And so I did what a novice knitter should never do--I started to undo stitches without knowing how to fix it. Even worse, I started to frog backwards. I'm not even sure if you can fix a shitty cast on, but I tried anyway. Needless to say, no dice. I ended up screwing it up so badly that there was nothing for it but to undo the whole thing and start all over again. Ribbit. Frogging that damn cowl got me so down--way more than it should have. I got to experience first hand that knitting isn't funny. The whole experience made me reevaluate what knitting means to me--it scares me that I could become so invested in a silly project. After all, this is supposed to be relaxing, right? Finally, I concluded that yes, it is supposed to be relaxing. And most of the time, it is, and that's great. But it's also a craft, not just a hobby, and it's something through which I define myself to a certain degree. It's okay to care a lot about it, so long as I leave myself some room to screw up. I'm new at this, and knit happens, right?

So the long and short of it is, the weekend could have been better, and as a result I was feeling pretty crabby. Well, what better way to cure the grumpy doldrums than to gobble them up?  Therefore, Sunday was ALL ABOUT THE CRAB. Softshell crab, that is. They are in season, and one of my favorite types of seafood. Sunday night Hubster made an amazing dinner of sautteed softshell crab, green beans and twice baked potatoes. He made enough of them to enjoy today in a softshelled crab sandwich. I can't friggin' wait until lunch--the sandwich will be stuffed with freshly shredded romain lettuce, sliced romas and some homemade tartar sauce. Nothing cures the grumps better than some yummy softshells....and a Disney themed photo montage...."Ahem..." *Laura clears throat dramatically*

"Les poissons, les poissons, how I LOVE les poissons! Love to chop, and to serve little fish. First I cut off their heads, then I pull out the bones, ah mois oui ca c'est toujours delish...Les poissons, les poissons HEE HEE HEE HAW HAW HAW, with the cleaver I hack them in two! I pull out what's inside, and I serve it up fried, God I love little fishes, don't you?"

"Zut alors, I have missed one! Sacre Bleu, what is this? How on earth could I miss such a sweet little succulent crab?"

"Quel dommage, what a loss here we go in the sauce..."

 

"Now some flour, I think, just a dab..."

"Now I STUFF YOU WITH BREAD"

"It don't hurt, 'cause you're dead! And you're certainly lucky you are...."

"'Cause it's gonna be HOT in my big silver pot..."

"Tootle Loo mon poisson..."

"Au revoir!"

 

Ahhhhhh, dinner was very, very good.

Some notes on the actual preparation--there's seafood breader that you can buy (you can see the brand we used in some of the photos)  that I like a lot--plus it makes it easy because there's already salt and seasoning in it. Also, normally we would coat the crab with fat free milk, but we don't buy it anymore (tasty soy is such a great substitute--except that it's a little too sweet for things like this) so we used an egg wash instead. You want to saute them in equal parts olive oil and butter--gives them great flavor, while allowing them to brown up beautifully. They only need about four minutes per side until they're done! Yummmmm.....the perfect cure for the grumps.

Too bad our neighbors didn't have the same for their dinner. Apparently one of them got kicked out of the house last night (they're a bunch of younger guys, straight edge and in their early twenties), and one of them actually kicked off all the railings on their porch in protest. Like, literally destroyed their front porch. Then slowly (but noisily) this guy's crap got piled out at the trash cans in front of the house. A mattress. A computer chair. A futon frame. Now that's a pretty intense case of the grumps!

And the sun sets on another exciting day in the Bottom...

(Hex://Law_School//Hex:)

When people find out I'm an attorney (at a wedding, party, in line to the bathroom), I'm frequently surprised by the number of people who say, "Oh, really? I'm thinking about going to law school! Got any advice?" Or, even worse, "Oh, really? I just got in to "X" law school--I'll be attending classes in the fall!" And I find myself faced with a horrible dillema: do I reveal to them the cruel and awful truth? Or, do I politely encourage/congratulate them and edge the conversation on to a less onerous topic?

I. Hated. Law School. There's really no other way to say it. It was the hardest time in my life, and it has changed me in ways that I don't necessarily consider positive. I am no longer able to think the same way I did before law school. And while that's great for my job, sometimes it can be a real bummer when I'm living outside of the suit. And it isn't that I don't like the law--I love criminal law. It's interesting, relevant, and exciting...but, I guess I just wish I had thought about going to law school more before I chose this path...like...I wish I had thought about not going. Sure, there were positive moments--like when exams were finally over, or when I overcame something particularly difficult...but most of the time I felt like the square peg being forced into the round hole--and for those of you who haven't experienced that before--it HURTS.

Even now, I feel like I'm still recovering. I've been out of the bubble for 10 months now, and I feel like I'm only just getting circulation back into the creative areas of my brain and soul that I had previously left for dead.

Sure, there are people that LOVED the experience--they thrived on it, and excelled beyond their wildest dreams. I just wasn't one of those people. And all I can say is that I never want to lie to anyone about it, even if it does make me sound like a negative nancy who still needs to work it out in therapy.

So in those moments when I'm put on the spot, I wish I was gadgety enough to have an iPhone or iTouch, because I would simply show them this video, and let someone else tell them the truth. Because while this is of course a comedic rendition of the experience...it isn't too far from the reality.