Corn bread and corn pudding

I've gone two days in a row without doing any Pilates. But I did ride my bike to the studio and back today for a total of 10 miles. My wonderful husband accompanied me because I'm a scaredycat when it comes to riding on streets with cars. I insisted on a really terrible route on the way there. He managed to convince me to take a much better route on the way back. Now I think I can do it on my own, especially on a Sunday morning when there won't be so much traffic.

My family came over for dinner tonight. I made corn pudding with freshly picked corn I bought at the farmers' market this morning. We also had a mixed grill of barbecued meats, green beans finished with Moroccan spices and shallots, more of the boy's chili-cheese corn bread, homemade grissini (bread sticks), and oatmeal, cherry, and chocolate chip cookies for dessert. I know, it sounds like a lot of corn. But the two dishes were very different. One was a bread and the other was more of a custard. If we lived before the advent of refrigeration, we'd probably eat whatever is in season, perhaps several different ways in one day, if not in one meal. Certainly there were no complaints from the diners!

Two weeks later

So much for my plans to update at least weekly. I had a grand total of one student during my first week at the studio. But during week two I had three students. One of my new students scheduled a return visit and my second new student scheduled FOUR additional lessons. I also taught my two classes and two private lessons at home. It would appear that I am actually a Pilates instructor.

Today is Friday and I don't teach. My brother is in town from Portland. During our wanderings around the city, doing various errands and window shopping, he told a sales person in a fitness store that I am a Pilates instructor. He made it sound like she should be impressed. That was a first.

The experience of these past two weeks has left me relieved because I still love teaching. After teaching for three hours on Thursday I felt energetic and focussed. Most of my nerves come before I start a session or class. But I got incredibly nervous while teaching one of my new students - a 42 year old man. I forgot how to get someone out of the foot straps on the reformer. I instantly got a hot flash which only made things worse. I started to freak out that my mentor teacher had witnessed my ineptitude. But I managed to pull myself together and move on to the next exercise. A little later when we had finished the session, I was stunned when he bought a package and scheduled four more lessons. I guess he liked me anyway.

I made Afgan-style shish kabob, barbecued sweet corn, and salad for dinner Saturday night. The boys made chili-cheese corn bread from a Cooking Light recipe. Then I went out of town, so the left over lamb just sat there in the refrigerator until I came back Monday night. I made a curried stew with French lentils, carrots, onion, celery, left over sweet corn, and the lamb. We ate it with cucumber and cilantro raita, basmati rice and sweet chutney. Another lovely meal. After dinner I baked some of the oatmeal, chocolate chip, and dried cherry cookies that I had in the freezer. On Wednesday morning I took some chicken out of the freezer to thaw. But we ended up going to see a movie and I didn't cook. That meant I HAD to do something with the chicken Thursday. I made a Chicken Tagine with lemons and olives over Quinoa. We had salad with snow peas, pecans, and cherry plum tomatoes with balsamic mustard vinaigrette. Tonight we had dinner out. I went all out for duck - seared duck liver salad with a bacon-wrapped fig and roasted duck breast and leg over greens and a fantastic corn pudding that I would love to be able to recreate. Stay tuned. I'm hitting the farmers' market tomorrow and I'm going to get enough sweet corn to experiment with!

Now I begin

I began this blog at a turning point in my life. I was about to leave my 28 year career, watch my youngest child graduate from high school, and begin a new life as a Pilates instructor. All that, and more, has now happened. But this is the real beginning point of my new life. Prior to now I was in flux, a state I have traditionally despised. I still had to finish my Pilates instructor training, extract myself from my old job, and execute my son's graduation party. I could not settle into anything like a new routine. I had no firm schedule and a diminishing list of commitments. As a person who is typically over committed and programmed to the bursting-point, it felt weird! Fortunately, I was distracted from the dreaded flux by the threat of a surprisingly major medical intervention. In the end I got the best of all possible worlds because the planned surgery didn't happen but, in the meantime, I was very distracted .

Now I begin. My formal apprenticeship began today. I didn't actually have any students, but that is not the point. I was at the studio as a student teacher, practicing my moves and generally pursuing the knowledge and experience that will eventually make me a kick-ass Pilates teacher. I am no longer in flux.

Delightfully inconsistent

I heard from someone who actually read my blog! I've been including the link at the bottom of a letter I've sent to let people know that I left my job. I only know of of two people who followed the link. Even that minuscule response makes this all a lot more real. So I decided to update.

I met with some public health colleagues yesterday. They were curious about my new career and asked how I came to become a Pilates teacher. Oh boy, you want to be careful when you ask that question. The floodgates opened and, before I finally realized what was happening, I started to gush. It turns out that I am a Pilates zealot. I'm totally into it and I am perhaps a tiny bit deluded that other people want to hear everything I love about Pilates.

I am now convinced this was an incidence of what I have come to call "inappropriate communication syndrome," or ICS. I coined the term to describe a trait that runs in my family. My Dad does it, two of my brothers do it, and now, apparently, I do it too. It happens when the person speaking fails to register the bored, shocked, and/or embarrassed expressions on the faces of those listening. Some listeners inadvertently enable ICS by working very hard to look interested. Typically, these are polite people who do not wish to appear rude by saying, "Whoa, hold the phone, that is enough about Pilates, Peter F. Drucker, your digestion problems, or whatever."

However, as with all crimes against humanity, it really isn't fair to blame the victim. People who indulge in ICS should monitor what they are saying and stop occasionally to see if, for example, the perceived need for deep background on the origins of the "trapeze table" has been filled.

I shall pray for the strength to change the things I can, the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Post office

Facing surgery has made me think about writing letters to my husband, son, and daughter. I discussed this idea with my rabbi when we met last week. I asked if it was morbid to deal with my fears this way. It’s not that I need anyone’s permission to write to my loved ones, it just feels like sitting down to write these letters could be part of a cheesy montage in a bad movie. I’m afraid of letting myself get caught up in overly dramatizing this thing. My rabbi thought the letters were a good idea, a way to make a positive ritual from the experience.

The next difficult thing, after deciding it’s okay to write the letters at all, is figuring out which one to write first. I never considered writing a group letter. One of the things I love about these three people is the distinct, separate, and unique relationships I have with each of them. I don’t interact with them as a unit, and I get out of the way so they can interact which each other without my intrusion. I don’t know if this is unusual or not, I just know this is not the way I grew up. I was part of a family that didn’t have time to deal with me as a distinct individual. The most important way I have found to heal from being subsumed into various configurations of my family is by insisting on having one-to-one relationships with the people I love. But, this means I cannot avoid deciding which letter to write first. It doesn’t help that they never need to know the order.

Forced Flux

I met with the Rabbi this morning. I had business to discuss with her concerning a program I am chairing. Then we talked about my "bump" and facing surgery. I've also talked about it with most of my good friends. Talking helps. The more people I tell, the better I feel. Of course, that might have something to do with the people I've been telling. I've managed to surround myself with thoughtful, caring people who know how to listen. This is not an accident, but it is still a bit of a surprise.

I'm in a state of flux. I can't jump whole hog into my new career yet. I'm busy with lots of little stuff, but I'm also slowing down. It's like I'm about to change lanes. First I have to slow down until I see my opening. Then I can slide into place one lane over. But changing careers and launching my son off to college and having this surgery is like crossing several lanes at once, so I gotta time it just right. I'm not usually comfortable in a state of flux, but this feels right and necessary.

More on the "bad patch"

So the bump turned out to be benign. That was the good news. The bad news is it still has to come out. A benign cyst in my salivary gland. How hard can that be to remove? Pretty hard, it turns out. The surgery is tricky because my facial nerve runs right underneath the cyst. The doctor says he has to trace the various branches of the nerve before removing the cyst to make sure nothing gets damaged. Damage to the facial nerve could mean I wouldn't be able to smile, or wink maybe. So it's general anesthesia and about 5 hours of surgery. I have to stay overnight and I don't get to eat anything. My son tells me the anesthesia part is fine - he had foot surgery recently - but no food! I don't like to be hungry. I'm mean when I'm hungry. Okay, I SHOULD be counting my blessings that the bump is benign. Instead I'm worried about missing a few meals. So here's something else - no Pilates! The doctor says I won't be doing any vigorous exercise for a couple weeks. The bright side is I'll have a good reason to go into the studio and do observations, which I need for my certification anyway. So it's all good, as they say. Spin, it's all about spin.