This is what it's been like around here for the past few days. Okay, not the singing and swinging on lamp posts part. But the rain, oh the rain. Today we have some flash flood watches for our area and it looks light late evening outside, rather than mid-day. Bleck.

I don't mind a good thunderstorm or nice cool and cloudy day now and again, but these past few days of precipitation have turned me into a grumpy, grouchy, sullen piece of work. Quite the opposite of Mr. Don Lockwood up there.

My whole person, body and mind, feels like it's being weighed down by the influx of all of this water. Like I'm a soggy, dripping, waterlogged mess. I can't even find the energy to put together a complete blog post (I've erased this paragraph at least ten times) on how I'm feeling and what to do about it!

The good news is that I'm making roasted chicken with fingerling potatoes for dinner tonight, and pouring myself a big glass of wine (or three) when I get home. I think that just might do the trick.

Image from themoviedb.org.

Happy Labor Day weekend, everyone! In our area, it has at least been better than last weekend (not much rain so far, though Monday's not looking great) so that's a start.

Yesterday marked the official beginning of college football (We Are...Penn State!) so there was some celebrating to be had (see picture above and post title for reference). It was also my nephew Austin's first PSU football game as a student! I'm a little giddy that he decided to go to Penn State this year, so it does my heart good to see the (tasteful and appropriate) pictures of him on Facebook, attending the game. It was a good opener for us, too. We beat Indiana State 41-7. Yowza. Let's keep it up JoePa!

The "beer" part of this post was primarily (okay, all) Seth's doing. The other part, however...

We hit up the Old Town farmer's market on Saturday morning and I couldn't resist the pull of this tan and navy basket. The basket was made in Ghana and the vendor was this adorable lady who "modeled" all of them for me as I was making my selection. It's perfect as a bedside book organizer.

Speaking of books, see the one on top? I'm reading the Odd Thomas series by Dean Koontz. I never thought I'd be much of a Koontz fan (honestly, I've never read any of his other books, but they never striked me as being my cup of tea) but after reading the first book in this series, I'm completely hooked. In fact, I think I'll sign off now to enjoy a few more chapters.

Hope you're having a great Labor Day weekend!

Last Tuesday, a magnitude-5.8 earthquake hit DC. Yowza. Sitting in my 10th floor office as it happened, I can easily say it was one of the scariest things that I've yet experienced. My first thought was that the building was collapsing (why? no clue. who cares. run!), but then someone yelled that it was an earthquake as my co-workers and I fled the building for safer ground. Nothing major was damaged at our apartment, although picture frames, DVDs, dishes and decor were shifted and on the floor throughout. I can specifically remember one time, after seeing a movie or something where an earthquake hit and caused glass to shatter and walls to crack, thinking to myself, "I am so glad I'll never have to deal with that." Yeah, didn't see this coming. You pulled a fast one on us, earthquake!

So, after the earthquake non-drama, we braced ourselves for a massive hurricane heading up the coast. This was one of the first times that I've actually been nervous for a hurricane. I mean, I've never lived on the coast (not too many hurricanes in the mountains) and usually all I've experienced has been some heavier than usual rain. Maybe it was the huge path of the storm and some leftover unease from the week's events, but I (along with the rest of DC) was bracing for a big hit. I filled the car with a full tank of gas. We bought cans of tuna and stocked up on filtered water. I got the flashlight and candles ready. I filled my bathtub on Saturday morning in case water lines broke.

In the end, we never lost power. Water lines were fine. And our area didn't really suffer much damage overall. We did however, hunker down long enough to watch eleven (plus) hours worth of The Lord of the Rings trilogy, extended edition. Score one for the nerds.

On a more serious note, Vermont was not quite as lucky as our region. The state is experiencing some major flooding thanks to Hurricane Irene. Click here to donate to the Vermont Red Cross and help those in need.

This past weekend we went back to Western PA to visit Seth's parents and partake in some of our favorite pastimes. Coffee on the porch, yummy food, and shopping. Specifically, we hit up a huge antique mall in Duncansville, PA after getting hotdogs and milkshakes (peanut butter...mmm) for sustenance. Though we browsed row upon row of thrifty goodness, the prices on this visit were a bit higher than usual and we walked away empty handed. However, I made up for it with blurry photos from my iPhone. Woot!

There was the good...

The bad...

And then, umm, there was this...

I have no idea how to explain this. Well. Okay. It was a life sized, $1200 buffalo standing in the middle of an antique mall. I couldn't find Seth to take a non-blurry picture of me, so I tried my best to snap a shot for scale. If I look a little dazed, well, I'm standing next to a buffalo.

We did do a bit of non-thrift shopping too though, and I'm proud to say that somehow (I really have no idea) I managed to score a gift set with this book and this book for, are you ready for this? ...$19.06 after tax. Not per book...but total. It was a Barnes and Noble exclusive, so the best I can guess is that it was just going out of print as a set. However it came to be, the book and or bargain fairies were working their mojo on Saturday.

...You're still thinking about that buffalo up there, aren't you?

You're welcome.

*PS - To those of you who visited my links above, expecting to find books and instead found a Bocce Ball set...oops. They've been fixed. And for the record, the books are both from Mark Bittman, How to Cook Everything and How to Cook Everything Vegetarian.

*PPS - Blogging and drinking do not mix.

*PPPS - I wasn't drinking. I was just a little dumb.

The first thing that popped into my head when I started writing this post was the quote from When Harry Met Sally where Sally is in her room sobbing hysterically to Harry about being alone and getting older.

Sally: ...and I'm gonna be forty.
Harry: When?
Sally: Someday...
Harry: ...In eight years.

See, I'm gonna be thirty. When? Next year. True, my milestone is a bit closer than Sally's was, but it's more the fact that I've been thinking/saying this for the past three years. When I turned twenty-seven, one of my first thoughts was "Ugh, I'm in my late twenties now. I'm gonna be thirty soon!"

I always used to be one of those people that operated under the "age is just a number" and "you're only as old as you feel" type of philosophy. And then I entered my late twenties. (To anyone who has already reached or passed thirty, I will get laughed at and psshaaa'd, I'm sure. I accept this.)

Since I turned twenty-nine back in June and "entered my thirtieth year" (as I was sweetly told by my friend Kristine) I've slowly started to "process" this upcoming change. Part of me says that it's just another year and if twenty-seven, twenty-eight, and twenty-nine didn't totally freak me out, why should the next year and the year after, and so on. Part of me says to embrace getting older and dive into life with gusto, never looking back.

The other part of me wants to give thirty the middle-finger and punch it in the face.

Why am I freaked out? Because thirty officially means "adult." It means that I should be owning a house and having babies, right? I should have a bigger 401K and some mutual funds, right? I should know what in the hell I want to be when I grow up, right???

Well too bad, thirty, 'cause I ain't got none 'a that.

These are the things I've been pondering over as I near this milestone year. And honestly, those are the things that make me feel a little skiddish about the whole deal. In my early twenties, I had those goals for myself and thought that by the time I was the-age-that-shall-not-be-named, I would have met and exceeded these youthful expectations.

So really, the anxiety and trepidation that I feel has all been brought on by...me. The reality is that thirty is going to come and go whether I'm "ready" for it or not. I look around and, sure, there are plenty of people my age who have things more figured out, and have some elements of the life that I want. But then again, there are plenty of people who are farther off from those goals than I was even a few years back.

I'm paraphrasing a bit, but I saw a quote recently that really got in my head: 

I have stopped trying to find myself; I have started to create myself.

This year and next year and the year after, there will always be parts of my life that I cannot change or alter. There will be things that I want and cannot have. Goals that I set for myself and then fail miserably at achieving. But, I can't sit around and wait for things to suddenly be perfect. If I'm looking back wistfully and wishing for things in the future, life in the present is never going to be what I want it to be. Life at thirty and thirty-one and thirty-two will only be better if I decide that it will be better.

And so, I've decided. I'm okay with thirty. I'm okay with thirty-one. Bring it.

...just wait until next year, okay?

A few weeks ago I found an offer for a free Papa John's pizza. Feeling a bit like I was back in college (where a free anything was the key to all joy and a free pizza was the holy grail) I got a bit giddy as I scrambled to sign up for the promotion. Hey, never look a free pizza in the pepperoni. (Ba-da-dum.)

Well, tonight we decided to cash in the coupon. Seth needed a haircut, so I grabbed my knitting needles and we drove to the plaza down the street. Thirty minutes later, Seth was freshly clipped, I had a few more inches completed on my scarf, and there was a freshly baked pizza sitting in our backseat as we drove home.

It's not the most glamorous meal in the world, true. But I have to say, coming home, pulling on some comfy pajamas, and scarfing down some free pizza just felt perfect.

I couldn't help but think of a recent post from Sarah about how sometimes, instead of a grand affair with oodles of thought and planning and gusto, dinner can just simply be dinner. I know that I can get bummed out by the disparity of what I want my evenings to be and the reality of what they actually are on any given weekday. On my very best night, I'd have a bottle of wine and a plate of bread on the table and something perfect but simple cooking in the oven, like a roast chicken with some potatoes. Seth and I would laugh and talk about the day over two glasses of pinot noir as we indulged in a delicious meal. At the very least, on this ideal night, we'd have a platter of salty meats and cheeses on the couch, while sipping cocktails and watching a good movie.

But, tonight, we were out of the house in a generic shopping plaza. We ordered the same pizza we used to get in college. We inhaled it while sitting, unceremoniously, in our living room watching an episode of Hoarders. And you know? It was awesome.

Sometimes, it's less about the particular food or event or ambiance. Sometimes, it's about doing something mundane with a person that you love. Being okay with the normal routine. Learning to sneak in a few minutes of something that you like (knitting!) in an otherwise boring situation. And, embracing a simple and thrifty meal...and loving every bite.

That glorious casserole dish on the left, filled with bacon, was the star of our dinner on Saturday night while visiting with our friends Dan and Christine. Ah, bacon. Not much else can make me so happy. If I told you how many pounds of bacon (yes, pounds, plural) Christine cooked, you might fall out of your chair. Needless to say, I gave her a huge, sappy hug.

Why was this dish 'o bacon the star of dinner, you ask? Well, our friend, Michelle, told us last Monday that she had never eaten a BLT. In her life.

Yeah, we couldn't believe it either. (Hi, Michelle!)

So, of course, we immediately jumped into action and a BLT dinner party was arranged. That's Michelle giving a big thumbs up to her first-ever BLT (with a delicious side of watermelon). It was a good night.

In other news...

That beautiful pile of produce up there was delivered to our door this afternoon. Seth and I signed up for a month-long membership in a local farm program where we can get fruit, veggies, and other locally produced products (cheese, milk, jam) delivered to our apartment.

Yes, please.

On this first delivery, we got lettuce, kale, zucchini, tomatoes, eggplant, potatoes, red onion, plums, peaches, nectarines...and donuts. That last one was our own request and they are apple cider donuts, so they do have some type of fruit-related substance in them. They're practically healthy!

I think on the menu this week will be some eggplant parmesan, fried zucchini cakes, leafy salad, not to mention the fact that we'll be munching on the fruit for snacks over the next few days. The plums, for instance, are already gone (as are three of the donuts...mmm...). Oh, and uh, that kale up there is already toast too. Literally. I tried to make kale chips this afternoon and just a word of advice: If you've never made something that calls for tiny bits of veggies to be baked at really high temperatures...do a trial batch first. My whole bunch of kale got burnt to a crisp in my one and only attempt.

But, to end on a happy note, I've been knitting a lot lately. Seth likes to say things like, "Hey, PURL Bailey..." and "You knitting some Ron PURLman over there?" and "Knit, knit, knit, knit, knit, knit, knit, knit, PURL!"

Tonight's newest: "How ya doing, Knit-sock Purlman" ...I'm such a dork, I nearly peed my pants laughing.

Click here, here, here and here if you didn't get those references. I realize that my love of puns may not be universal.

Have you ever come across a new store or website or product that you are totally smitten with, and you just can't wait to tell your friends? Of course you have. That was a silly question.

On the One Mango Tree blog today, they announced that they had teamed up with Pure Citizen for a big sale. So, loving their products (and a good sale), I headed over to the Pure Citizen site to browse around.

Well, I love the idea of flash sale sites, but I always find that they're either a) overpriced or b) not enticing enough to drop any cash. This site though, is great. Direct from their FAQ page:

"Pure Citizen is a place where you can save daily from a featured company that is making our world a better place."

This means, that they only have sales on products that are "organic, fair trade, sustainable, recycled, cruelty free, natural, handmade..."

They have 6+ sales going on today (that won't last long) and for most locations, shipping is a flat $4.95.

I'm psyched. And ready to shop.

Pure Citizen didn't pay me, send me stuff, or give me a free puppy to write this post. I just found them and really like and want to support what they're doing.  

Click here to go to the Pioneer Woman's 16-Minute Shrimp Scampi recipe. Make it, and enjoy.

I exercised today. As in, I put on running shoes and made a conscious decision to sweat profusely and be uncomfortable.

That, you see, is my general thought on the whole "working out" thing. It makes me ache, sweat, cry a little, and it forces me to take two showers in a single day, which, for some reason really bothers me.

But, I did it. And I'm still alive. And you know what? I'm going to do it again tomorrow. Just 'cause I'm crazy like that.

Oh, also, my 41 year old (and mother of three) sister is looking hot in a bikini these days. Talk about motivation. If her 29 year old baby sister (that's me) hasn't even braved a one-piece in several years, I think it's high-time someone did something about that. And since we haven't evolved enough technologically for anyone else to do it, that someone will have to be me.

I think twenty minutes on the eliptical is a good start for someone who hasn't stepped foot inside a gym since a white guy was in the White House. Look out bikini, imma wear you.

(That last sentence is the PG version of the types of things I've been saying all week thanks to this book. Ha. Love it.)