Light and Momentary

Soup Season

Do you like beef-barley soup? I am very fond of beef-barley soup.

We had a little bit of leftover stew beef in the fridge tonight, and I browned it in oil with the Instant Pot in sauté mode. I minced an onion and two ribs of celery, and diced two fat carrots into small cubes. When I pulled the browned beef cubes out of the pot, I tossed in the veggies, salted them, and let them get brown. We had a couple of sad little deliquescing leeks in the veggie drawer, so I chopped them up as well and added them to the pot. In other circumstances I would have thrown in a few cloves of garlic instead.

To the browned veggies I added a glass of wine, about 6 cups of stock, a small can of crushed tomatoes, a cup or so of quick barley, and the resting beef cubes along with their liquid. I cooked it under pressure for 12 minutes and let it rest for a little longer after the timer went off. It needed a bit more umami, so I added some Worcestershire sauce. If I were a mushroom eater, I might have chucked in some mushrooms along with the other vegetables to provide a little umami boost. 

We all liked it; maybe you will too.

The Klaxon

When we are out of something important at our house we sound the alarm. The person who picks up the almost-empty bag of coffee beans or the last bagel will say "WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP!" 

My husband, who does the grocery shopping, will answer: "What do we need now?"

We do have a whiteboard grocery list, but if the situation is serious you're going to WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP about it.

Today I said to Elwood, "Do we have any pumpkin?" I had thought I might make some nice pumpkin/chocolate chip muffins, but that's hard to do without pumpkin.

He frowned. "I don't think so. Was it on the list?"

"Well, no," I answered. "But I whooped about it." You can't have a pantry without pumpkin in October, right?

"It was probably ten days ago," I continued. "It seems like usually if someone whoops about a grocery emergency you'll practically vault out the door to get the thing we're out of."

He nodded sagely. "To stop the whooping," he explained.

Who knew that WHOOP-WHOOP-WHOOP noises would be so motivating? Life is full of surprises, my friends.

Bulky

If you are a woman my age you were probably cautioned about the weight room. "Careful," they told you, "you don't want to get bulky." This was said with a twist of the lip and a cautionary tone. You don't want to get gangrene. You don't want to get syphilis. You don't want to get bulky.

The weather has changed and I am making the switch to tops with longer sleeves and more fitted shoulders. And guess what? I have definitely added some bulk.

This is not entirely a surprise. Back in August I tried on a blazer that used to fit perfectly, and it was decidedly snug through the shoulders. But this morning I donned a pale-green blouse I've worn for years. I have worn it happily across a 30-pound weight range, but it does not fit me now. I wore it anyway, and spent the whole day feeling uncomfortable.

I guess this makes sense. Across the past ten years my bust and waist have been different sizes at different times, but never my shoulders. News flash, ladies: if you spend 5 months building your delts (and your lats and your traps), you may find that you need some wardrobe adjustments.

Can I tell you that I am having extremely mixed feelings about this? I love being able to shoulder-press a pair of 35-pound dumbbells for 3 sets. I've never been this strong before. I find it so satisfying to knock out sets of 10 or 12 pull-ups on the pull-up machine. (It will take me some time to do a double-digit number of unassisted pull-ups, but the amount of assist I need is dropping steadily.)

The pale-green blouse is too tight across my shoulders and upper back because I have persevered. I kept at it with deadlifts, even though the form is a total pain in the butt. I did bent-over rows until I felt queasy, and then I stopped and did the same thing twice more. I worked my delts even when I wanted to give up.

My body did what I was asking it to do: it grew me some nice sturdy new muscles. It feels ungrateful to have mixed feelings about this. And yet-- do you know any woman who wants to be labeled "sturdy"? I'm not sure I do. Have you ever heard a woman say, "My fitness plan has been such a success that I need larger clothes!" I have not.

It used to be part of my identity that I was "the skinny one." Part of me wants to say "to heck with that! it's better to be able to open your own jars than to be 'the skinny one'!" It's pretty sad that women so often think they would be "better" if they were smaller -- if less of them existed. If girls and women learn that it's undesirable for them to have visible muscles, then they're easier to push around. And who wants that?

Well. I might want that a tiny bit. I just might.

I am not going to pretend this makes a lot of sense, but I am also going to guess that many of you will find it unsurprising.