Thanksgiving, Homesickness, and Cartwheels

It is a rainy day here on Maui, and I have a cold. There are two (possibly inebriated) older women in the grassy common area of the condo. One is doing cartwheels and handstands across the grass while the other one rates the performance Olympic style.

That was a 3.0!!! Claps hands. Laughs.

(I thought about taking a picture, but I fully respect their cartwheel activities and decided against it. Besides, the scene probably wouldn't translate well....visually).

I hope to turn cartwheels with my friends someday.

Thanksgiving was nice. It was our first big holiday away from family and we survived! I was bummed I hadn't signed up for a Turkey Trot, so I ran my own Thanksgiving morning. Then we made pie, potatoes, and salad and took it to a friends house for Thanksgiving dinner. It was a sunny, beautiful day.

See? Sunny.

Brant got Thursday and Friday off, so with our 4 day weekend we took off to the condo. I love coming to the condo on weekends - it feels like we are on vacation.

Oh, the vanity.

This holiday week started out kind of melancholy, but has officially turned into a lovely, relaxing time. It was melancholy because I am officially homesick. I don't miss Boise, but I miss my family and friends.

I miss Black Friday shopping with my mother in law.
I miss walks and talks with my girlfriends.
I miss stuffing the turkey with my mama and eating all of her holiday baking.
I miss my niece and nephews.
I just miss being around everyone for the holidays.

Earlier this week it just felt hard to be a festive, one-woman show 2500 miles away from family.

Boo hoo for me.

All perfectly normal, I know.

I am thankful that I have people to miss.

And I'm thankful for our new friends here who checked in on us and made sure we had people to spend Thanksgiving with.

I'm thankful for family calling. For funny voice-mail messages.

I'm thankful to still be on this new adventure.

And I'm thankful for papayas.

The end.

How do you spell Kumbaya?

O.M.G FINE, I will update my blog. Jeez. I think we've all figured out that I suck when it comes to regular updates. But thanks to certain individuals who excel at facebook guilt trips.....here I am. So yay! What should we talk about? How bout I talk and you listen?

I am at Starbucks, finally, after spending all afternoon in job hunting. Job hunting is no fun. But there are so many things that Brant and I would like to save up for (namely a SUP board and a motorcycle), so I spent all afternoon walking into restaurants (some fancy pants, some not so) and dropping off my resume. Uber lame, but hopefully fruitful in the near future. I had a 2nd interview at one restaurant, so there's that. I'm trying to get a job waiting tables because it just makes sense with my school schedule right now. Serving = less time, more $$.

Speaking of school, it is going well. There are only 2 tests left this semester, including the final. And although I've done great on the other tests, I am needing some serious motivation to finish strong. Did you know the surface area of all the alveoli in your lungs is estimated to be as large as a tennis court? Alveoli are all the little tiny sacs in your lungs at the ends of the bronchioles, where the gas exchange takes place. We have a ton of alveoli. But DUDES? Seriously, think about it.........the estimated surface area of one persons alveoli would COVER A TENNIS COURT.

source is here

If I ever go on Jeapordy! I hope there's a question about alveoli surface area.  What is a TENNIS COURT, Alex!?


Beyond school and looking for a job so I can buy a stand-up paddle board, things are pretty much the same around here. Of course, no post would be complete without a running update, so here it is:

(Rob, skip this part. Go ice your knees or avoid carbs or something)

After going momentarily nuts after the Maui Marathon and trying to run too much too soon (and consequently hurting my IT band. Idiot!), I had to scale it back for 3-4 weeks. But the IT band is feeling better and seems to be manageble - thanks to rest, ice & stretching, so I'm back training for the Oceanfront Marathon in January. I am crazy exited about this race for several reasons:

• My mom and step-dad are going to be here for the race. Boring for them, but yay for me.
• The temps should be slightly cooler in January = less dehydration = less cramping (hopefully)
• It is part of helping me complete my goal of running every marathon on Maui while we live here. 
• It is one more chance to punch muscle cramps in the face.
• It is a beautiful course, during whale season. Yay for whales.

Did I mention I hope to avoid cramping?  

source is here

Last few things -

I'm really looking forward to the holidays. Granted, I got rid of all of my Christmas decorations when we moved, but I am determined to at least buy a tree this year. (Side note: after visiting a friends house the other day, I realized how ridiculously bare our house is. We have no decor. No style. We've been here for going on 9 months and still look like we are living out of suitcases. That framed picture I bought at Savers 6 months ago? Still haven't hung it. But I figure Christmas decorations should help, right?)

Brant won't stop growing his beard and hair. Pretty soon he is going to look like a muppet. Send help.

This feels like a pretty one sided conversation. I mean, here I am talking all about me, and then when you guys comment, I can't even tell if the blog notifies you when I comment back. Does it? We need a blog mediator. Or at least a blogger who knows what they are doing. Just know that I do value you, and dang it, I guess I'll try to update more. :)

So what is up with you guys anyway?

Because these are my favorite subjects

I'd like to direct your attention to two things I love:

and

The first pic is Brant obviously - it's the photo they used on his work website and dude...how cute is he?
The second pic is of my new running shoes. Purple and also (but not equally) cute.

That's all.

2011 Maui Marathon: Race Recap

A week from last Sunday I completed the Maui Marathon. My (favorite) mother in-law, who had been visiting, had to leave Thursday night before the race (sad. but we had SO MUCH FUN while she was here!). She must have been doing a great job of distracting me, because the minute she left I got so nervous for the race. (Next time can you stay? Please?) All day Friday and Saturday I had this flood of adrenaline and nerves running through me. It felt like I needed to puke, dance, scream, and pass out all at once.

Finish area the day before (packet pick-up)

 Had I trained enough? Would I be able to make it? Would I pass out on the course? Would I poop my pants? Would I run faster than I thought I could and blow my goals out of the water? Would I injure myself/get food poisoning and not even make it to the starting line? I think it is apparent that my head, the week before a big race, is RIDICULOUS.

I had run a really strong 20 miles a mere 2 1/2 weeks before, yet it felt like a lifetime ago. I didn't feel like I even knew how to run anymore. Saturday night I was so nervous I couldn't finish my spaghetti at our carbo-load dinner.

But 3:15am Sunday morning, the nerves were gone. I felt strangely calm and nonchalant. My friend Corinne picked me up around 4am and we were at the race by 4:30. It was Corinne's first marathon, and she made us (me, Corinne, and our friend Krista) awesome tutu's to wear for the race!

Corinne getting down with group aerobics before the start.

Before I knew it, the race had started. Corinne and I had trained using 5/1 intervals (run 5 minutes, walk 1 minute, repeat) so we set out with the plan to run our intervals real slow for at least the first half of the race, then see how we were feeling and speed up from there. From our training runs, I knew we should come in somewhere around 5 hours - if everything went perfect, we even had a shot at coming in under 5 hours.

Running buddies.

Overall, for me, this race went NOTHING like my training. I think that is what was so hard for me to accept when it got hard. Intellectually I knew the marathon would be hard, but I forgot just HOW hard. I expected to start suffering around mile 19 or 20. Instead, my left hip flexor got tight at mile 6, I got extremely, unusually tired around mile 11, and at mile 16.5 both of my legs cramped up completely. I'm talking bad charlie-horse level cramps from my calves (and the surrounding muscles on both sides), up over my knees, and on up my inner thighs to my groin.

Tutu's in action.

Cramping is hard because not only is it incredibly painful, but it has the ability to stop you in your tracks completely. Stretching didn't help. I wasn't sure if I should walk or run - with either one it felt like my legs were on the verge of locking up completely, which would mean collapsing on the course and my first ever DNF (did not finish). So naturally, when the cramping hit at mile 16.5, my first thought was "am I going to be able to finish?" I was so disheartened that I still had another 10 miles to go and was feeling so badly. I had not planned for this! (hahaha, as if that would make a difference).

I wanted to quit so bad.

I just wanted it to be over.

But, no matter how bad I wanted to quit, I couldn't. . I've always said; run, walk, or crawl......I will finish. I knew the only way I would quit was if I actually did collapse and the medics drug me off the course. Sounds dramatic, I know, but dudes, in the moment it felt dramatic.

So I kept going. Mile 18......19......Ran when I could, walked when I thought I needed to. Mile 20........21.......The whole time it was such a mental game - why did I cramp? Too many electrolytes? Not enough? Could I do anything about it now? Not gonna lie.....I got really negative for a mile or so. I was so angry and dissapointed that the race wasn't going the way I wanted it to go. They always tell you to plan several different scenarios for your run so you can react/accomodate accordingly, but this reality hadn't even been on my radar.

This was....mile 21? 22? 23? All I know is I was struggling.

By mile 22 or so, I decided that I had to relinquish the negativity as well as my hopes for what this race could have been. Things were obviously going different and I could accept it, relax, and try to enjoy the last few miles - or I could kick myself all the way to the finish line. It took about half a mile to talk myself into being positive, but I finally just let go.

It is what it is.

So I kept running some more, throwing cups of cold water over my head at the aid stations. (Oh the aid stations! Hallelujah.) In my head I kept repeating '3 miles till water, 3 miles till Brant, 3 miles till water, # miles till Brant'.......and then it was '2 miles till water, 2 miles till Brant'.......'1 mile till water, 1 mile till Brant'.......

It's almost over

 Finally there was mile marker 26. Death had not come yet, so I picked up the pace for the last .2. As I approached the finish line, there was no adrenaline, no excitement......nothing but pure survival mode. I could hear Corinne screaming my name. I crossed the mat, stopped my watch, and sat down for the girl to take my shoe chip off. And then I started to cry.

No pics of my finish. Our camera died right before.

I'm a little embarassed that I cried - this whole re-telling is dramatic enough, but I also don't want to discount the experience. I cried because I was finally done. I cried because I hadn't given up. I cried because discipline hurts. The chip girl asked me if this was my first marathon and I blubbered...nooooo. Brant found me after I got the medal and I cried some more. He helped me down to the beach and held all my stuff as I stripped to my sports bra and shorts and waded into the ocean.

I want to say this: there is NO way I could have trained for and completed this race without Brant. He gave up so many Saturday mornings to crew for Corinne and I with water and gatorade. He was consistently supportive. He massaged my legs, gave pep talks, figured out my race nutrition/hydration, and if he ever doubted that I could do it, he never said it out loud. The dude has lived with my nerosis for many years now, but deserves a medal after these last few months of training. The thought of reaching him at the finish line is a large part of what kept me going.

Best 'pit crew' EVER.

So that's it.  The longest race recap ever. I wanted to record it though, so I can remember.

And after all that, you may be saying ' why in the world would you run a stupid marathon? Why would you run at all if it's really that bad? Well, if you are a runner, you know why. I bet if you love to play any sort of sport, you know why.

I run because (to me) there is no better feeling than a good run - my legs turning over fast, breathing easy, wind on my face, and a dip in the ocean afterwords. I'll take the suffering, crappy runs if it means I get the good ones. Endorphins feel amazing. I run because I feel like it's something in my life that God uses to teach me (maybe when you are as stubborn and prideful as I am, it takes 26+ miles to learn something)?  And despite my introvert ways, running is my favorite way to make friends.

My time in this race wasn't what I was hoping for, but I am super stoked regardless. My time was over 20 minutes faster than my first marathon, and my recovery has been a million times faster. That's progress!

The next marathon is in January. I've got a lot to work on before then. You know, like figuring out how not to cramp. But I'm so stoked that I have awesome friends to do it with - Krista and Corinne are running in January for sure.


On the one hand: it's just 26.2 miles. One foot in front of the other. It ends eventually.

On the other? It's 26.2 freaking miles!!

P.S. I also want to say this: the aid stations at this race were awesome! Amazing volunteers, water, Gatorade, watermelon, oranges, and ice water sponges. And contrary to other races I've witnessed, this one waited for the slower finishers before tearing down the finish line. People were cheering for racers in the back of the pack and that is awesome because seriously? The back of the pack needs more cheers than anybody!!So if you wanna do a race, I highly recommend the Maui Marathon.

I'm off to apply sparkly stickers to my roller bag.

So I've been meaning to come here and do a post on how I am going back to school, but eh, every time I tried I couldn't figure out what to say.

But yeah, I'm back in school.

University of Hawaii Maui College.

For the first 2 semesters I'll be taking one class each semester, just chipping away at the pre-reqs for the nursing program.

Then I'll apply for the nursing program and hopefully get in.

And then I will probably lose my mind.

First class (3 hour lab component of Anatomy & Physiology) starts in an hour and a half. Right now I'm sitting in the library. Just scored a free granola bar. Spent the morning trying to buy my class book (no luck, bookstore is out, doesn't know when they will be getting the book. Wth?) and figuring out where my class is held and where future good study spots might be.

Up until today it has kind of blown my mind, the idea of being back in school. But walking on campus today, figuring things out, it feels......natural. Feels like where I should be. And I'm really quite excited.

I took pictures of the campus, but forgot my camera cord, so will obviously not be posting them today. But I can show you this guy who was chilling on my porch the other day. I love him.

Forget pottery or leather, the ninth year is mangos

I thought I'd show you this:

Our landlord gave Brant and I this mango in celebration of our anniversary. She said it came from a beloved mango tree on their farm.

Let's put that one on the list of reasons I love living here; people give mangos for presents!

To satisfy my dear friend Rob, who suggested I blog a little more about Hawaii and a little less about my pathetic life, I'd like to direct your attention to the fact that mangos are not native to Hawaii. And apparently Hawaii mangos are not allowed to be sold on the U.S mainland, due to quarantine rules regarding fruit flies and mango seed weevils.

How sad for you.

Now back to my pathetic life.

I woke up early one day last week and drove to my favorite beach.

It was windy (it is always windy) but the beachcombing was great.

And then LOOK what I found:

No, it is not a piece of poo.

 

I don't know what it is, to tell you the truth. Some sea creature chilling on the beach. Perhaps he lost his shell? Perhaps he doesn't need one? I probed and observed and took pictures of him until a huge wave took him away. 

And then I ate breakfast sitting under a tree further up the beach, and looked at all the seashells I had collected that morning. . I tried real hard to not let the wind blow sand into my yogurt and bananas.

My life will not always be this leisurely. In fact, in less than a month, it will have quite a bit more structure. But for now it's like this.

We Still Like Each Other

Monday was our 9th wedding anniversary. To celebrate I made Brant go outside with me and take a few obligatory photos.

He likes to flare his nostrils when I 'make' him take pictures.

And then we went to a surprise dinner he had planned.  Months ago we picked up a magazine for restaurants on Maui and the cover shot was this amazingly refreshing looking drink from a restaurant called I'o. Sliced strawberries, limes, basil, and mint leaves stacked in a tall, clear glass with a clear bubbly liquid (turned out to be soda water & some fancy vodka). I mentioned that someday I really wanted to try that restaurant because that drink looked out of this world and I hoped the menu would match. So that's where he made our anniversary reservations. Because he is awesome and thoughtful like that.

Notice the dumpster in the background. No churchin it up over here.

Dinner was amazing. We ordered multiple small plates and munched and talked the night away. It was such a relaxing, satisfying meal. And of course I ordered the drink we had seen on the magazine cover. Brant said it tasted "like a garden" because of all the fresh basil and mint leaves layered amongst the strawberries and limes. I thought it was delicious - especially because it tasted like a garden.

Anyway, get ready for some mushy stuff:

I love this guy. 

I mean, I REALLY love him.

 I can honestly say that the last nine years have been the best years of my life. He is my best friend. And I am so completely grateful for every day I get to spend being married to him.

The beard is back.

Here's to many, many more years together. 

Here are some things

 A couple scenarios from the past few days:

First,
I'm sitting in Starbucks, and the middle-aged guy at the table in front of me is talking to a woman. I can't see her from the angle I'm sitting, but I can see her pink, designer-ish purse sitting on the side of the table. The guy is talking loud and asking her things like 'when did your mom come to this country?' And when she says 2007, he tells her she should really be able to speak better English than she does, but how he can still understand her even though he was born and raised here, blah, blah, blah. My first thought was.....really? Why would you comment on her English speaking skills like that? RUDE. And then I wondered if their meeting was a job interview or something - something where language skills might be relevant. Or maybe he is a family friend, or a new friend of hers, or maybe he is just a jerk? Or maybe I didn't catch all of the conversation and he is not a jerk at all - it just sounds that way from the snippet I caught?

But then, an hour later they go to leave and I finally see the woman, who is, in fact, not a woman at all. She is a child. Or at least appears to be a child. Seriously, she might have been 12. Maybe. She catches my eye as she puts her pink purse over her shoulder and we smile at eachother. Something about her smile seems a little wierd. But then they turn to walk out and the dude puts his arm around her, on her middle back and kind of runs his fingers up and down her back as the walk to the door. NOT in a way that a friend or potential employer would touch. And now I am wondering.....did I just see what I think I saw? I mean, it could be a million different totally acceptable scenarios. But it could also be a very, very wrong scenario. Now I see her weird smile in my mind and wonder if she was trying to communicate more than just an awkward smile toward a stranger.

Second,

I've already commiserated about this with a few family members, but can't resist sharing here. Last week Brant and I were driving in Kihei and I was looking out the window when I saw this old guy sitting on the curb combing his hair. He was wearing shorts and it kind of looked like he was sitting on a pillow. But the pillow looked like it was inside his shorts. Then I realize that it is NOT a pillow, and that out of one side of his shorts, his HUGE testicles are protruding. I am not kidding or exaggerating when I tell you that the part hanging out of his shorts was easily the size of a large grapefruit (but a mushy grapefruit, being smooshed down against the curb). Don't know how he gets around with balls that big. And how could he sit?  I made Brant turn around so we could go back and get a picture, but by the time we did he was gone. Speedy for a dude hauling around such a load.

In other news:

• I have an allergy induced sinus infection. 

• Spent the last few days brushing up on my algebra skills, and guess what? I like math. A lot.

•  I got a new car and my Hawaii drivers license this week. Brant is the best at finding awesome older cars, and my license picture makes me look like the victim of a bad spray tan. No you may not see it.

• Still haven't been able to fully open that dang coconut. Maddie can't even do it.  Hoping to buy a machete this weekend.

Have a happy 4th of July my friends.

And remember, keep your balls in your shorts.

This post is about running and has nothing to do with the pictures below.

I ran 9 miles on Saturday. And I feel fine. This round of training is so different than the one in, uh,...2007. Probably because that was like, oh, FOUR years ago. The biggest difference is that I am training alone. No running buddy to run with, and get lost with, and walk down stairs backwards with (Bonez, I miss you....move to Maui?). It's also different because I'm not as hungry this time. I remember after the first time I ran 10 miles in 2007, Brant and I went to a diner for breakfast and I grabbed our waitress and demanded a piece of chocolate cake to eat as an appetizer. I was THAT hungry. That whole training cycle was one big attack of hungry. I remember running those early Saturday morning miles and fantasizing what my breakfast was going to be. I ate bags of chips and bowls of ice cream in addition to dinner every night. Woe be to you if you got between me and my food (Brant can attest).

This time? I'm not hungry. I mean yeah, I eat obviously, but no more than normal at this point. No bags of chips. I'm kind of attributing it to the fact that I am in better overall shape this time around. I have more muscle. Maybe that has something to do with it? Maybe the crazy hunger will kick in when the mileage increases even more?

Even with the differences, I am starting to really enjoy running again. The last month or so I've been doing my workouts because that's what you do when you commit to running a marathon. You run. Even when you don't feel like it. But in the last week, I've started looking forward to my runs - even missing them on rest days. I love this feeling and I'm going to soak it up as long as it lasts.

My body is doing okay with the increased mileage. One of the many reasons there has been a 4 year gap in marathon training for me, is the fact that I have been recovering from two different injuries over the past few years. The biggest is an alignment issue with my pelvis/hip that flares up now and then, and causes a whole mess of problems. When I first decided to do the Maui Marathon, I was dead set on training to run the whole thing. As the first day of training got closer, I reluctantly realized that because of a) my injury history, and b) the fact that my mileage base was not as high as it needed to be, I needed to train for this marathon using run/walk intervals.

Not gonna lie #1 - my ego hated to think of talking walk breaks.

Not gonna lie #2 - I am so glad I didn't listen to my ego.

I'm using a run/walk interval training program from John Bingham's book. I do all of my runs so far running for 3 minutes/walking 2 minutes and repeat. It will gradually increase the running and decrease the walking and by race day I should be running 5 minutes/walking 1 minute, repeating till my wheels fall off or I cross the finish line.

At first, this training method felt like a step backwards. I can go out and run 5 miles without stopping, so WHY should I make myself stop after only 3 minutes? What I've learned is that my body likes those 2 minutes of recovery time. Because of them, my pacing is more consistent when I am running, and consequently, my overall time isn't THAT much slower than it would be if I ran the whole time. So far, the muscles that trigger my old injury have been kept in check with this method, and for me, that's the biggest plus. My endurance is growing, my speed is consistent, and I feel great and still have energy after running 9 miles. What's not to like?

Maybe next year, or the year after, I will run without taking walk breaks. Maybe not. For now, it's doing my body good.

Oh, and last thing.....I finally got an Ironman watch last week. It keeps track of my intervals and I love it even though Brant calls it my 'boy' watch.

Now I Get Free Syrup Shots

Oh dudes, this week is flying by. I keep thinking about blogging, but then I lay down on the couch instead. Yesterday I was so tired and so bored (bored in between all the job seeking, house cleaning, dog watching) and driving myself crazy, so this morning I decided to do the usual once-a-week 'take-Brant-to-work-and-hang-in-Kahului-all-day' thing. So I am at Starbucks again.

Good news: I have reached Starbucks Gold Member status.

Bad news: every time I hit the enter key on my laptop, it takes me two lines UP, instead of one line down.

I am deep in the throes of job-hunting. Pretty sure there is an amazing interview on my horizon, so I'm going shopping for an interview outfit today. Three quarters of the clothes I brought with me here no longer fit, and the only ones that still do involve tie-dye, slippahs, and bikinis. 

I posted a few pics of our drive last weekend on facebook, but wanted to post a few here as well. We got up early last Sunday and took a drive around the west side of the island, starting in Wailuku and winding through the sometimes one-lane roads to Napili, and down to Kaanapali. We were on the beach at Blackrock by 10:30 and spent the next 4 hours swimming, eating salami & cheese, and laying out. It was the perfect day. And we have the sunburns to show for it.

Some Marriages Have REAL Problems

One thing Brant and I do really well together (and often), is run out of gas. It's a Jackson thing for sure, because I never ran out of gas before we were married. I was too neurotic and embarrassed to run out of gas before I got married. The thought of holding up traffic and having to flag someone down to help me push my car into a parking lot sent me speeding to a gas station at a mere quarter tank.

I love being a Jackson.

Truth is, I'm still neurotic and I still care way too much about what other people think. But I married a man who while extremely intelligent and responsible, has some sort of ingrained aversion to working gas gauges. We drive a 46 Chevy Coupe. We have had it for around 6 years. Up until 6 months ago, it didn't have a gas gauge. Brant just winged it, I guess. He put a gauge in when we were getting ready to move. Only, we soon found out that while the gauge is historically accurate, it is not exactly gas measuring accurate. The little wand sort of flips around between 1/8 and 1/4 of a tank, and you think you have gas left, but you don't. Found that out when we ran out in downtown Boise. Luckily, we were already parked in a primo spot, so we just walked a few blocks to the nearest station.

Logical people, I'm sure, would just fill the car up when the gauge showed less than 1/2 a tank. I don't have much of a defense for the fact that we rarely do this. We get distracted, I guess. Oh, and it should be noted that the majority of times we have run out of gas, we have also been without a gas can. For some stupid reason we usually end up taking the gas can out of the trunk, and then sure enough we run out again, and realize what we have done.

One time in Boise, (in my old Jetta, not the coupe) we ran out of gas twice in one week, within the same city block each time. Who else can do that?

We ran out of gas a few weeks ago on the west side, when we were taking our friend MJ to lunch. Brant had to hitch a ride  to the gas station (and buy a can, of course) and then take a taxi back. MJ and I hung with the dogs under palm trees.

But today was the BEST. We drove into Kahului on Brant's lunchbreak to get the coupe weighed. We have to get it weighed as part of the inspection and registration process. So we drive up the ramp of this huge scale and have to wait a few minutes while the semi truck in front of us is weighed. While idling, sure enough, the car starts to sputter. We are on fumes.

Picture us, right up in that little box above the ramp on the left. Apologies for the iphone pic. Returned to the scene of the crime to snap this one.

Brant pulls right up behind the semi, to the only flat spot, and kills the engine. When its our turn we start the car on fumes, coast onto the scale, and cut the engine again. Make small talk, get weighed (3160 lbs), start the car again and coast down the ramp, down the street to the gas station. Made it beautifully, no gas can needed.


I was laughing so hard as we pulled into the station. I used to get so mad, every time we ran out. Infuriated. Who does this!!!!! Ridiculous! Obviously my fury didn't change our habits, and over the years I've learned to accept that many times we are just too distracted with other fun things to take notice of the gas gauge. And honestly? I kind of love this about us.

But you should probably keep this story in mind the next time we offer to drive.

Kiwi Car Care and Gluten Free Granola

I spent the morning gardening at Kiwi Car Care. Brant works there, and his boss has been kind enough to 'hire' me to clean up the plantings around the perimeter of the property.

The area is planted with gardenia and spider lily's, both of which I love. Going through a property the first time takes longer than usual, and this was no exception. I spent the entire morning on this one side (both sides of the fence). There were suckers to cut off the trees, gardenias to deadhead and prune, and a million little dead leaves and debris to pick up. It was fun! I've never meditated, but weeding and pruning totally 'zen' me out, so to speak.

If you live here, and ever need your car worked on (or know someone who does), I highly recommend Kiwi Car Care. And not just because Brant works there. I mean, Brant is awesome and can fix anything, so that's a plus. But I also recommend this shop on the basis that the owner, Kim, is a really good guy and runs his business with integrity. That is a trait that is worth promotion - especially in an auto shop!  He does very little advertising, and relies mostly on word of mouth. So there's my word. Go there!

I'm now sitting at Starbizzles drinking a drink too fancy to pronounce. I just wanted an iced coffee, jeez.

I'd like to leave you with a few pics of yesterday's project - granola.

Gluten-free Almond Butter Coconut Granola to be more exact. This was my first attempt (or second, if you count the first batch I burnt) at granola, and although I liked it, I think the recipe needs more tweaking. This batch was made with agave nectar and white sugar as the sweetener, because that's all I had on hand. I'd like to try a batch sweetened with Maui cane sugar or honey. Mmmm......

Also, I didn't have any add-ins, which is sad. I think it would be delicious with banana chips and macadamia nuts. But we ate it as is, over homemade coconut ice cream and it was just fine.

 

You guys, I realize I am horrible at recipes. While making the granola I thought 'I should write these measurements down.' But then I was all 'No, too much effort. Just wing it!'  Lame of me. I can tell you that I loosely followed the oil ratio recommendations in this recipe from Smitten Kitchen (which is such a great blog). I made a much smaller batch - here's what I threw in the bowl:

-1 cup gluten free oats (Bobs Red Mill)

-somewhere between 1/8 and 1/4 cup canola oil. 

-1/8 cup agave nectar

-1/8 cup white sugar

-1/4 + almond butter

-1/2 finely shredded coconut

-cinnamon, lots

-dash of salt

Mix it all up real good, and then spread on a baking sheet lined with parchment paper.Bake at 375. After finding out the hard way with my first batch, I realized with my oven, I needed to only bake my granola for 9 minutes exactly. Even a minute over and it would burn. So experiment with your oven and above all, just check/stir the darn granola frequently! I let mine cook for 5 minutes, stir, cook for 2, stir, cook for 2, DONE.

This granola project was brought to you by my new bowls. These came from Costco and totally rock. They stack within each other for compact storage and each one has a lid. And the colors! Oh, I love the colors. 

 I see more projects in my future.