Loosened from the mud, I find myself floating in a world of possibility.

So can you.

Randomness (the not-so-Minnesota-nice kind)

Mind purge this morning...about to commence...

The cold has finally hit and there it is, yet another adjustment I have to make in my life. I can handle the twenties but when the wind picks up and the temps are in the teens, I feel so shut in. The sky darkens at 5:00 and every remaining bit of garden foliage is crisp and droopy. Strange combination, to be crisp and droopy at the same time.

Glucose test this week and so am eating healthy. Ugh. I just want a big glass of berry lemonade, maybe some french toast. Not that the eating isn't good. Last night we had ribeyes, cajun-roasted sweet potatoes, and a huge salad. But then, I want chocolate cake after that, a five-layer cake that I heard about on the Splendid Table, the kind that I would consume at Coffee News Cafe with a large glass of red wine accompanied by my friend Lone Star . Most of all, I want to make some monkey bread. Gah. I'm going nuts over those things I can't have.

Oh, yes, Lone Star is coming up from Texas next Saturday. I haven't seen her in four years, at least. She's coming for my baby puja and we do intend to eat at all those yummy places that she misses in Minnesota. Gotta get the house cleaned before she comes and have to enlist the help of D as I can't be around too many of the deep cleaning products.

Thirty other relatives are coming into town, too. And, my mother is driving me crazy. And, the seamstress who was supposed to sew my sari blouse says she may not have someone to do it. Ugh. Indian-run small businesses drive me crazy, just like my mom. Sad to say, but I'm taking my white husband into that shop to see if that will persuade her to get the job done. Or else if that fails, I'm going to take all the materials and a refund and see if the tailor down the street might be able to so some sari blouse magic. The shop owner has had the material for over a week now, I don't understand why she just didn't say she couldn't do it, rather than hanging on to the material for so long.

Not feeling so "Minnesota Nice" this morning. Hence the change in the title of this blog. Slowly, slowly I'm finding my way into a medium that is suitable for my existence. I love this city, I do. But, there are some things that get to me sometime, like the cold, the snotty Indian community separated from the friendly folk in Chicago, Houston, New York. I think they are so snotty because it's mostly middle to upper class Indian folk, those who have elite jobs and such. None of the ordinary folk like the ones that reside in larger cities. Or maybe it's just me. I removed myself from that social class when I married my working class man from Nordeast Minneapolis.

Ugh. Randomness...

The Big D and I got a health club membership that ends up being relatively cheap when the health insurance benefits kicks in, just have to get there 12 times a month. I've enjoy our late afternoon workouts on the weekends. During the week, I tend to go by myself either late morning or early afternoon. He goes after work so then, doesn't return home until about 7:00. This give me plenty of time to cook and I've developed a new relationship with the late afternoon and early evening in terms of productivity. The weekends are just wonderful. I love looking across the room and seeing him sweat on the elliptical machine while I take my non-sweaty walk on the treadmill. I feel so good when we're done and walking to the Jeep. Unfortunately, I woke this morning thinking this is all going to end.

One of us will have to stay with the baby, so no more joint work-out weekends. That led me to think, if he keeps the same weekly schedule, he won't get home until the baby is sleeping. So when is he going to have time with the baby? His work won't give him any paid time off when the baby comes unless he uses his vacation time. Why? Isn't it important in this country for fathers to bond with their newborns? And, on top of all that, he's applying for another job that's located way south of the Cities, so if he gets it, he won't be here much at all. The money would be great, the lack of time together would be tragic. Why must these be the choices in front of us?

The sun is shining today. And I have plans for wild rice soup and a baked acorn squash.

Reading Kingsolver's Animal, Vegetable, Miracle has me regretting all that I didn't do this season. I didn't can, I didn't blanch and freeze, etc, etc. I keep telling myself - I did grow a baby. And she is kicking like crazy, so she must be robustly healthy. One more thing - my mother suggested that a manicure might be harmful for the baby. I've had exactly one manicure in my life and I thought a second one might be nice for the baby puja next weekend. I was dumbfounded and infuriated with her comment. My response was that she's fine with me eating pesticide-laden foods from the conventional grocery store, but is skeptical of getting my nails polished? She told me I was being overly-dramatic and that all grocery stores are like that. WTF?! Why are people so complacent about the food production in this country?

Watched Wall-E last night and it made me cry, just like the first time I saw it. I thought I was over my pregnancy emotion-filled state, but here it is again...OK. Bye Bye.