Silence is Golden

My little DIY clip art. Here's, um, to simplicity.

Happy New Year. I mean it. I wish all of you an amazing year. I've read many of my friends posts about kicking 2014 out with gusto, but I've got to say - 2014 was lovely for me. So much so that I simply wish 2015 to be a continuation of 2014, or the next phase of what was started in 2014.

That means I'm...

• Writing more (working on polishing picture books and continuing to write my YA novel)

• Launching our second catering & wholesale brand (Fresh Betty, here she comes!)

• Growing Smokin' Pete's BBQ catering (or in the case of 2014, keeping up with the growth)

• Hiring and training good staff to match the growth (training being my weakness, I intend to put more time and energy into this crucial part of owning a business)

• Working out a lot more (yes!) and eating mindfully (repeat after me: ribs are not a snack)

That's a whole lot of more on my plate, a plate piled high and spilling over already. It means I have to make some concessions. I don't know if it's possible to do less housework. Not unless I want to start knitting dog hair sweaters, and, ew, no, but I won't feel guilty about hiring help in that department.

I also am taking at least a year off from blogging for Char-broil. I've loved working with them - they really treat their bloggers well - but I fell behind on assignments, or was rushing to get them in on time - and that's not my usual modus operandi.

I'll also be posting less on She-Smoke this year. Yeah, I know, if wasn't like I posted a ton last year, but I need my already too-spare writing time for fiction projects. I have some cookbook ideas simmering on the back burner (snort, giggle, slurp...mmmm, scribble, scribble, scribble), but this year is the year of the novel, (and picture books, and the poetry I write when I'm stuck on the first two).

Hmmm, I didn't mean for this post to be a whole New Year's resolution thing, but the bulleted list really makes it official. Hello 2015.

And so, to circle somewhat forcefully back to the title of this post, when I'm quiet, it means I'm working on good things.

May your year be filled with good things too.

My (cringe, wince, dare I say them) 10 Resolutions for 2014

I'm not a fan of resolutions because they create a paper trail of one's inevitable failures from setting expectations too high. The word resolution is so authoritative. I know it's because it's so close to the word "revolution" but resolution always makes me picture a Confederate soldier pointing a bayonet at my head.

On the other hand I love lists. And new beginnings. I'm also a hopeless hopeful liberal who thinks everything in the end will work out if we can all just get along. There's nothing wrong with a good old fashioned drum circle, people. I've got the sage stick in my desk.

And since I've already given my grilling resolutions for Char-broil, and am inspired by writing group buddy Helen Landalf's most excellent writing resolutions, here are mine with grilling and writing naturally a little mixed together.

1) Nano the novel. I've been timidly chipping at a novel for two years now. Timid because I think I don't have the time to commit to a long work, so I put most of my fiction writing energy into poetry and short stories. The novel won't go away, however, and my writing group keeps asking about it. It's time to Nanowrimo this thing. November is never a good month for me to do so, but I can pick a 30 day period that will. March sounds good. It's my birthday month.

2) Lose the Forty 40. You know the Freshman 10? Well it gets worse. It's time for me to lose the belly. Period. It's hindering me and I'm sick of it and I've already lost four pounds from cutting out grains and dairy for four days, not because I think they are bad, but because I love my bread and cheese, and this addict needs to detox. I'll be sure to blog about the healthy grilled and smoked dishes I make along the way.

3) Create a work/life balance. My husband and I have run a 7-day a week, lunch and dinner restaurant for ten years. Ten! Look for some business model changes soon. Very soon. For starters, we are open from 12-8pm, Wednesday through Sunday this month. That will help, but stay tuned for more. And less.

4) Walk the dog more. I'm supposed to be morning walk girl and Eric is night walk guy. I miss a lot of my shifts. Trixy, our very energetic cattle dog needs it, and so do I.

5) Play more fully. My daughter has been saying a lot lately that I don't play enough. It's like a stab in the heart and I predict that she will improve upon this ability to break me in her teens. But she's right. We're going through some transitions and I've been pretty absorbed and work focused. I keep telling her that I'm working on getting more play time but that means nothing to a five year old. Or to anyone. On the contrary, my husband sees the kids less, will lay down and nap sometimes when it's his shift (seriously!) but doesn't get that comment at all. I think it's because he really plays when he plays. He doesn't check e-mail, or call anyone, or make shopping lists. I may not be able to play more hours, but my goal is to play fully when it's play time.

6) Add some Zumba to the Karate. I jumped back into Karate last year and it feels great. I get my heart rate up, learn every class, and take it pretty seriously. I want to add in exercise that for me is purely for fun. Zumba (registered trademark yada yada) sounds perfect.

7) Sharpen the editing skills. I've always thought I was a pretty good proofreader and editor but I've noticed errors lately that I should have caught. I need to own that. Whether that means taking a refresher class or simply taking more time, it's all about the practice. Practice makes perfect.

8) Submit to the Slush Pile. I tend to hold on to what I write. This year I plan on giving some of my stories and poems wings, even if it means they rubberneck back stamped NO in red ink.

9) Grill purple. It's funny because I've always considered myself a little outside the barbecue world, even though I own a barbecue restaurant and catering company, and have published a cookbook. I don't compete though, and I live in Seattle and sometimes have purple hair. I've noticed, however, that my posts are mostly about traditional barbecue and basic grilling. There aren't a lot sides, desserts or weird/daring/bizarre recipes on my blog and as I said in the Char-broil New Year's post, I'd like to blog more out of the barbecue box this year.

10) Breathe. This is the most important, which is why it's the last one. Eric says it to me all the time because I get spinning so fast I forget to breathe. My guess is the Tasmanian devil had the same issue.

So what are some of your resolutions?

See ya, 2011

Awesome axe kick snagged from this website

I don't think I've ever heard someone say, "Oh, if only this year could last forever," have you? No matter how wonderful your year may have been, it's always time, isn't it, for a new year to begin. 2011 has not been a favorite year for many of us. I heard a commentator say the other night that the theme of 2011 is "When will it ever end?"

Instead of champagne this year, I'm planning on sending off 2011 with an axe kick. Then I may imbibe in some bubbly.

I'll make sure to eat my collard greens and black eyed peas too for a good dose of health and prosperity for 2012.

Happy New Year everyone!

A Practical Wish for the Holidays

My son attended a preschool one year called Nature Kids, housed in the middle of Seattle's largest park, the 534-acre  Discovery Park. The main premise of the preschool was that the kids would go on a hike for most of the day, rain or shine, learning about nature.

The school had all sorts of specially named places they'd hike to: Stick Belong, a place they often gathered large sticks to make a lean-to fort, Owl Logs, a place with fallen trees that could be an instant game of pirate ship, and the Wishing Tree.

The Wishing Tree was my son's favorite. Almost every day, the kids would gallop to one particular tree of many that surrounded an open field and whisper their wish. My son naturally wished for superhero strength, the ability to change into a cheetah, or an invisibility hat he could don to sneak candy whenever he wanted.

One kid, however, wished every time, without fail, for a sandwich. My son reported this to me each time with an incredulous voice, for the boy apparently wished out loud to the Wishing Tree as well.

"But he gets a sandwich!" my son would say, shaking his 4 year old head. "There's a sandwich every day in his lunch!"

The fact that this boy would waste his wish on something so mundane, and on something he'd get within the hour baffled both of us. Even I, a cynical adult, would prefer an invisibility hat to sneak chocolate over a sandwich.

But after a while I got it. The kid was a practical fellow. He wanted his wish to come true.

For those of you that want your wishes to come true this holiday season, I suggest socks. Wish for socks. Sometimes it's better to keep your expectations low and be surprised. After all, they might be really great socks.

For the rest of you...Happy Holidays! May your feasts be plentiful and delicious. May your family be bearable. May it not hurt when you bite your tongue. Do bite it, for the few days you need to. It will make for a far smoother year. May your gifts all fit so that you don't have to enter the post-Christmas fray at the mall, unless you like that sort of thing. May you get amazing socks. May you go easy on the eggnog and be mildly controlled with the chocolate...

And when the din settles down, may you find time to stop, breath and contemplate the new year about to unfold.

A Not List for the New Year

Today I finally finished baby proofing the upstairs. There is nothing like crossing off something from the "Big List of All Things", eh? Of course my children are two and five, but if someone visits with a crawling baby, boy oh boy, that baby is safe upstairs.

I hope my family doesn't mind pureed foods, because I am now ready for the next thing on the list: canning homemade organic baby food.

Maybe I missed the boat on that one. Besides, the first child hated (still does) pureed foods, and the second went from rice cereal to gumming steak in mere months. I cooked a few yams, stewed some apples, so I think that counts.

I have multiple lists swirling in my brain at all times. I think most women do, but for some of us, it is almost an affliction. Besides the Big List of All Things, there is the immediate list. The immediate list is the one that makes me feel like an insane robot left alone on a planet for centuries (the anti-Wall-E, if you will).

I have this thing about wasting no steps. It's something that stuck from my waitress days: Never return to the kitchen empty handed. Bring hot food out, clear dirty dishes back. Only now, instead of dishes, it's all housework, and I don't get tipped. As I walk down the hall I fish out the puzzle piece from my pocket that I picked up earlier and, in a single motion, swing open the toy cupboard, shoot it like a basket ball into the puzzle shelf, and re-latch the cupboard as I go.

It sounds efficient and mom-like, right? But today I needed to pee. I went to the bathroom and found the toilet less than pleasing. I have a five year old boy, need I say more? So I cleaned it first. I keep a stack of what I call "pee rags" in the cupboard handy. Then I took the rag, along with the pile of clothes "someone" left on the bathroom floor, to the adjacent laundry room.

Here's the problem. A normal person would just go pee first. I on the other hand, upon finding myself in the laundry room, felt the urge to "swap out the laundry" i.e., put a load in the dryer, and start a new load in the washer, before I returned, clean towels in hand, to the bathroom. No wasted steps, see? By the time I'd loaded the washer though, I'd forgotten my original bodily need. The moment I heard the Whoosh of the washer, though, I remembered that I really had to go.

I made it, and as I had more than a few moments to reflect, I decided that this immediate list, and the Big List of All Things, both needed to chill.

My husband would laugh if he read that last sentence. He would say, "You can't do it," not in a mean way, but as a way to challenge me. This, from the man that says every New Year, "I resolve to not make any New Year's resolutions," and thinks it's funny. Every year. He and I have a difference of opinion of what a "day off" means, but the truth is, I need to learn how to do nothing. When you are travelling at light speed, you miss the rainbows.

So instead of New Year's Resolutions, I'm making a Not List.

#1 is an easy one: I am not going to feel pressured "as an author" to twitter or facebook. If I want to say something or respond to someone, I will, but I haven't found any of this glorious social media to have an impact on my supposed "platform" or to make many meaningful connections. A few, sure, but mostly it takes away time I need for writing, sleeping, or relaxing, all things that are better for my health and well being than tweeting about brisket.

#2  I am not going to nurse my daughter for much longer. That is a tough one for me, but it's disturbing my sleep too much. It hit me on the night of her second birthday this week (yeah, I'm one of those la leche mamas). While she was nursing, she paused, and with the boobie still in her mouth said, "Back kick." Assuming I heard wrong, I repeated, "Back kick?" She then nodded and proceeded to show me her back kick.

Apparently, while nursing, she was mulling over how to perfect her Tae Kwon Do. While I say 'Kudos to you, my martial arts baby', it does make it perfectly clear that nursing is no longer food, nor even comfort at this point: it's a coffee break, hold the coffee, stet the milk.

#3 I am not going to post on this blog more than once a week. Ooh. Another tough one. In part because I feel like I have so many things I want to post about, and also because "they" always say that you must post at least three times a week, if not five, to have a successful blog. I'm not sure how "success" is measured, but I do know that I have other projects I want to put energy into, and would rather make one good post each week and have fun with it.

#4 I can't say I am not going to make lists. I'd need years of therapy to throw out my legal pad, but I am going to mellow out on both the immediate list and the Big List of All Things. I probably should start by changing the name of the Big List.

I know, that last one wasn't a "Not". In fact I've sat here for 15 minutes and everything I tried to write was an "I am" instead of an "I'm not". The moment I say no to a few things, a world of possibilities opens. Think of what I can accomplish when I master doing nothing?

What do you say, are you with me? What's on your Not List this year?