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Officially, the first day of spring is March 20. I don’t know about you, but a spring that involves snow in the air, wind chills and below freezing temps is no spring to me.

Spring means blossoms. The kind that look like Malcolm Gladwell tree wigs.

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Earthly blooms, bursting with color and pollen.

Long walks outside with shoes that don’t cover my ankles.

The absence of hot chocolate.

Skirts with no tights.

These things rightfully don’t happen in March. Unless there’s a freak warm weather system that gets Chad Myers’ underpants in a twist.

But April. We expect more of you.

Prolonged warm spells, not just pockets of heat.

I’m not offended by a pocket though. The weekend, for instance. Sandwich it between workweeks and the weekend is thrilling. Exhilarating. Titillating? All of those at once.

Imagine this: if every day were a weekend day, where would be the joy in approaching a weekend? Which may be a sensation even better than the weekend itself.

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ramps_FeedMeDearlyThere are days when everyone is subdued and sitting on the edge of their stools, waiting to sample their new mystery food. And there are days when the mystery food becomes a toy, or more specifically, a slingshot. Thankfully we were able to ignore the extraterrestrial species that had invaded Sam’s brain, and enjoyed our new experience with ramps. And not only did Lauren and Emma like their ramps, but they also ate every last piece, asking for more. This counts as a victory.

ME: Ok.  I have one new vegetable for us to try. What is this called?

LAUREN: I don’t know.

SAM: A duck.  A snake.

ME: It’s not called a snake.  It’s not called a duck.  Who wants to hold one?

SAM: Gooey slime? (He picks up a long ramp and swings it around his head lasso style)

ME: Don’t throw them around like that please. I grilled these.  Here, Emma you can have one too. 

KIDS: [laughing]

ME: Sam, don’t swing them around.  It’s not a toy.

KIDS: [laughing]

LAUREN: Did you feel the bottom? What does it feel like?

LAUREN: That’s easy — leaves.

ME: They are like leaves. Look guys, Lauren is already eating hers.  Who’s going to eat theirs next?

SAM: [making monkey sounds]

LAUREN: It tastes like salt.

ME: Ok, I’m going to tear open a ramp for you guys so that you can smell it.  Raw ramps have a really strong smell.  Let’s see.  Whoa.  What does it smell like? 

SAM: A unicorn.

ME: Unicorn? 

SAM: No, I said a leaf.

EMMA: Unitorn.

LAUREN: Do you eat the white part?

ME: You can eat the whole thing because I grilled it.  But you can also eat the raw one that I just opened. I love these.  These are one of my favorite things.

LAUREN: Oh my God, the white is spicy.

ME: Yeah, it’s a little spicy isn’t it?  It’s a little peppery.  You know why?

LAUREN: Why?
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Last year I had what amounted to a pre-mid life crisis. It was late March and I was struggling with indecision – my career felt like it had stagnated and I lacked a creative outlet. My insomnia was incurable as I pondered the existential question: what do I want to be when I grow up?

I told my husband that I needed a break. A real escape.  I’d travel somewhere far, far away. Maybe even Europe. Just a weekend escape, but preferably a place where I didn’t know the language and could focus on the basics: eat, sleep, wander, think.

Fortunately I’m married to the kind of person who can sense an impending meltdown. “Do what you have to do” is all he said.

I opened my laptop and started to search for last-minute travel deals.

No dice.

It’s been a few years since I’ve traveled overseas, but has airfare really doubled? Yes, sports cars are expensive, but a $2,000 decompression trip to Europe was well out of my mid-life crisis price range.

With my European fantasy on hold, I settled for a juice cleanse and a solo trip to the lake. My dog, of course, would join.

I loaded the trunk of our car with my meals for the weekend – beet, carrot & ginger; swiss chard, pear, and lemon; almond milk; coconut milk; turmeric tonic….The world was starting to brighten.

The value of rest can’t be overstated. Parents have a tough job, and scheduling time away isn’t always easy. But it needs to be done. 

My weekend away did more for me than I though possible. I unwound, I read, I slept. I planned to start the blog, and quit my job by summer if things didn’t improve.

With a few coats of paint and some freshly-cut flowers, I’d restored my temple to its former self, and was ready to resume life with a renewed sense of purpose.

Now a year later, I look back to that weekend and realize how much I’ve grown. I’m happier now that I’ve made the tough but important decision to fulfill myself creatively, and not settle for career mediocrity.

The concept of Spring cleaning longer feels cliché. It has meaning beyond vacuuming under the beds, and rotating the mattresses. It’s a time of year to mentally, physically, and spiritually take stock.

And food can play an important role in that process.

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Spinach salad with raspberries, persimmon, and almonds

Next week Rodney and I are starting our 3-day juice cleanse. We’ll follow it up with a healthy dose of cleansing foods to keep us moving towards the summer months. Raw vegetables, healthy fats, good proteins (sustainably farmed or caught). It’s less about losing weight, more about being mindful of the foods that we eat, and how we feel.

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Sliced watermelon radishes with lemon, sour cream and herbs

And I’m making good on my promise to keep my personal spark alive. A few weeks ago I started an evening watercolor class. And I’m thrilled to have received a yearlong membership to Skillshare for my birthday.  It’s not always easy to carve out the time, but it’s important to find some escape in the everyday, to continue to learn, and grow.

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Spring panzanella with asparagus and green beans

So best of luck with your spring cleaning efforts, whether it’s mental, physical, spiritual, or all of the above. Make every day count.

 

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Can a weekend start poorly when you’re baking Almond Joy brownie bites?

I have scientifically proven that it can.

First my brownies gave me the middle finger when they came out of the oven and broke in half during the pan extraction process. I had to dig out some Hello Kitty polka dot mini cupcake wrappers to save them from the compost heap. Fortunately they were edible.

Lauren, who is nut allergic, wanted to know why on Earth I’d made brownies with nuts in them. After explaining that they were for a dinner party that night, she broke into tears, begging that I make a second nut-free batch of brownies.

So now, instead of enjoying the first 50 degree day of the winter, we were trapped inside like brownie lab rats, testing our dedication to the sport of baking.

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And of course, when we make food, I must photograph. Because that’s what this food blog has done to me.

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Yes, those would be my feet. I’m either perched on a chair, lying on the ground, or climbing onto my countertops to get my food shots. Maybe I’m doing it wrong. If so, please tell me because I’m spending a lot of time cleaning my countertops.

After baking all morning the kids started to pace like a pack of anxious wolves; they were ready to enjoy some sunshine. Our sunny day didn’t disappoint.

And I was eager to enjoy a little of the great outdoors myself. Forgetting that everyone swarms to the park as soon as we get a glimpse of warm weather, I suited up for our visit in a pair of stretch iridescent snakeskin pants, a yellow sweatshirt, and a wool vest that I bought in 2001. Witnesses will corroborate. Upon seeing friends and acquaintances in their skinny jeans and leather boots, the obvious choice was to run for the hills, which I did under the guise of a dog walk, leaving my husband to look after the kids.

With a quick fist bump to my girl, Jack and I took off.

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Goodbye

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