Big adventure in small places

Most people learn about the hero's journey in high school. It's the standard hero-driven story arc, usually involving a quest, a mentor, a fall/loss, a rise to power, and success, in some semblance of order.

But some days, just getting bananas from the store can seem like a quest--complete with villainous cashier, an evil witch in the produce section, and a perilous parking lot journey. It's how we handle these mundane adventures that defines and prepares us for the real ones. (Or not. I may just be saying that because it sounds important). This week is all about these tiny epic stories, the usual unusual. A hero's quest in a bottle.

My mundane adventure has to be my commute. Some days, getting home from work seems to span three centuries and several monarchies. I work about forty miles from my home, giving me a commute that can be anywhere from forty minutes to-- well, my record so far is about three hours.

Why?

Let's just say it's a well-known fact in San Diego that no one can drive in the rain.

The major freeway I take most of the way home has its issues. It's relatively well-managed for traffic volume, but add water falling from the sky and the whole thing seizes up. Mostly because there's little to no drainage on the darn thing.

The last time we had a big storm, I limped my way home around mid-afternoon, pretty much convinced I was going to die. People were in that scary speed range where you're going just fast enough to do some damage if you lose control, and the road was so slick and wet and there was so much wind that my car was getting blown all over. And then I reached a dip between valleys.

Essentially, a small lake had formed on the freeway.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that I'm being a wimp here-- but here's the thing. I, too, am a San Diegan. I hardly ever have to drive in bad weather conditions, so I just plain don't know how to handle them. When I hit that giant puddle, I was all of a sudden blinded by the wall of water kicked up from my tires, and had the sensation that I was floating more than driving. It was pretty terrifying.

It didn't help that I had twenty of my new best friends surrounding me the whole time.

Now, I did make it through. But I'm scared of it happening again, despite the fact that it most assuredly will at some point. Ah well. Maybe I'll take an alternate route next time.

What do you do when the weather's bad?

There's a hole in my bucketlist, dear Liza

Making bucket lists is not a new thing for me. Calling them bucket lists, however, is new and I refused to do so for a while, thinking it was coined by that awful Morgan Freeman movie...but then I relented once I discovered that it was a legit term. End sidebar.

So! I've been making bucket lists since I was a wee lass. Some mildly embarrassing highlights!

From a list made at 12 years old:

-- Be on David Letterman before age 16 (I had a stupid human trick that was GOLD)
-- Safari with the Kratts (I'd still go. No regrets)
-- Become a world famous veterinarian (I'm not sure how one would get world famous, but...)

From a list made at 16:

-- Speak 100 languages (I read an article about a guy that did this. Seemed reasonable.)
-- Become a world famous veterinarian (Still going strong with this one)
-- Visit Skywalker Ranch (I blame the cute guy at the comic book store for planting this idea)

And a list made at 21:

-- Spend a summer surfing in Australia (Ah, to be young enough to think I'd have summers off forever)
-- Go to law school (ha ha WHUT. Go back to being a vet!)
-- Open an ice cream shake stand (ha ha ha SERIOUSLY WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME)

I still have bucket list ideas floating around now, things like "publish a book" and "have another kid" but somethings just happen in their own due time. And hopefully I don't look back on what I'd like to do now and laugh too hard about it. I've become a bigger fan of "have done" lists rather than "to do"..that way no one can find a half-crossed off list in my wallet when I go on to that spirit in the sky. I'm all about COMPLETION, baby.

(Kratts: call me.)

WORLD FAMOUS, I TELL YOU.

Not That I'm Ambitious . . .

Things To Do While I Am Still Alive

Publish a book (duh)

See all the Castles in Britain

Have dinner at the Eagle and the Child

Go wine tasting in Itally and France

Journey across India

See Russia

Live in other countries

Try to figure skate

Try to shoot a bow and arrow

Sail across the Pacific

Open a combination bookstore and tea shop that serves authentic afternoon and "meat" tea

Build a castle

Read every book ever written

Tell everyone how amazing they are

Force them to smile

Sing

Watch a thousand sunsets

Watch a thousand sunrises

Prepare a ten course meal

Repair our country's education system

Rule the world

If I should kick the bucket before I ...

Everyone has something they want to do before, uh, you know-- the great blue yonder.

Some even have entire lists of things! A veritable bucket list of sorts!

Mine? (This is going to be one of my shortest posts ever).

It's simply:

1.) Do everything.

What's on your bucket list?

How to Train Your Dragonfruit

Yes, Virginia, there is something called a dragonfruit.

The dark time in my life when I did not know about the stunning deliciousness that is dragonfruit (I call this time BD) surely outweighs the glorious time that I HAVE known about it (the years know as AD) but I don't lament the days I went without. I just try to make up for it by eating as much as I possibly can now.

Now, tastiness of the fruit aside, I have to admit that the dragonfruit looks a little...uh...intimidating.

source

Looks almost like a cholla catcus after a really long night of partying. Ooh! Or the love child of a prickly pear and Cousin It. Or! or! or! Like an aloe vera plant that got dreads done on Spring Break. I am on simile FIRE!

But just like L.T. notes about the pineapple, it seems to be a long jump from "Hey, weird plant" to "What's that spiky red thing on the ends? And can I eat it?" I suppose our fruit hunting ancestors were a bit more hard up for tasty treats than we were.

Then again, who doesn't want to see what's inside nature's dreadlock bead?

 source

(I kind of imagine this is what Babelfish might look like.)

Well, slice that sucker up and you'll be treated to the most delicious, seederific fruity flesh that you can possibly get your taste buds around:

It's like a party in my mouth and a bunch of seeds are invited! (Don't worry, the seeds are edible. No need to scoop around them.) It's divine, people. It's healthy and delicious and if I would have shied away from the weird little fruit stand I came across a few years ago just because it smelled like durian, I would have missed eating and falling in love with what is now my favorite (albeit a little hard to find) fruit EVER.

People are fruits. We're weird and intimidating and sometimes spiky and maybe a little stinky and hard to understand, but we're really good inside. Heck, sometimes we're even delicious! Thank goodness some people take the time to (metaphorically, of course) slice us up before passing us over. And hopefully we're the type of people to do that, too. In the meantime:

Why Cucumbers and Avacados Are Also Fruit

No, I do not have the scientific reasons for why these delightful greeneries are classified as fruit. My reasons are much less intellectual and much more definite.

I want to give you some recipes for them.

So look it up. Wikipedia will tell you they are fruit too.

So I can do this without breaking the rules.

Drat. I hate following the rules.

Now for the recipes . . .


Cucumber and Mint Sandwiches
(just in case Algernon ate them all before Aunt Augustest arrived)

Ingredients

1) Eight slices of white bread (normally I prefer dark breads with more texture but in this case you don't want the bread to overpower the cucumber)

2) One Cucumber, peeled and sliced

3) Fresh mint leaves, washed and removed from stems

4) Eight ounces cream cheese at room temperature (make sure it's room temperature. Trying to spread refrigerated cheese over soft bread is not fun.)

Spread cream cheese over four slices of bread. Layer mint and cucumbers on top. Cover with remaining bread slices. Cut off crust. Slice sandwiches into triangular quarters and enjoy. When Aunt Augustus finally arrives tell her there weren't any cucumbers; not even for ready money.


Blueberry, Avocado, Cilantro Smoothies

This is one of my sister's recipes. It is fantastic.

Ingredients

1) Fresh cilantro, washed

2) One cup blueberries, washed (hey, those are even traditional fruits. I am such a good little rule follower.)

3) Two avocados, peeled and pitted

4) Three quarter cup Greek yogurt (honey, plain, or vanilla flavored)

5) Half a cup ice

Blend and enjoy.


OK, now I'm hungry. Which way is the kitchen please?

My favorite fruit name to say

As writers, we have a tendency to pick favorite words. Whether it's those we write or those we say, there are certain words that give a particular joy with the way they roll off the tongue. I adore saying the names of the Jewish High Holy Days for example -- Rosh Hashanah continues to entertain every time I say it -- and when I discovered this fruit, well you can pronounce it for yourself.

I've never eaten this fruit. Never even seen one, to be entirely frank. But I did hear of it some years ago, and am always entertained by the way it rolls off my tongue.

It's a bit odd, but my favorite fruit name to say is ... Kumquat.

The kumquat tree. Image from Wikipedia.

The English name of the fruit comes from the Cantonese word "gam gwat." Trust us pesky English speakers to mess up a pronunciation, amirite?

It's a citrus fruit that's cousin to the orange, so I imagine it'd taste something like that. The plant's native to south Asia, and first appears in Chinese literature around the 12th Century CE. The kumquat tree, a small evergreen-type tree, can also be found in Japan, Taiwan, Thailand, Korea, Vietnam, Pakistan, and Nepal. It first came to Europe in 1846 and was shortly thereafter introduced to North America.

According to Wikipedia, folks in the Southern U.S. and California are more likely to have consumed the kumquat. I don't recall having seen any in Massachusetts or New York grocery stores, but then I've never really bothered to look all that much. 

Still, since we're talking about fruit I figured I'd share this.