Looks a little different, eh? I decided it was time for a good old face lift for my blog since I’m into my 8th year! Just like my hair style changes with the times, so should my blog. Am I right ladies? It’s a work in progress, but I’m headed in a new, fantastic direction.
Check out my ‘about page‘ to see how I thought up this new name. I think I like it 🙂 Oh, and I also decided to jump ship to WordPress from Blogger. I’ve been with Blogger since 2007 but much prefer the WordPress interface. I use it a lot at work and definitely started crushing on it HARD. Having a self hosted blog is very mature if you ask me!
But even though there are some changes, you’ll still find the same old me here. Same content. Same attitude. I hope you enjoy the new look ‘n feel! Lemme know what you think!
I finally have the time to surf/read for pleasure again. Here’s what I’ve been finding interesting these days:
I mean, why not? As a gal that used to love getting all dressed up for work, I must admit I’ve been tiring of it as of late. The time and energy it takes to find ANOTHER fabulous outfit to show off can be exhausting. This article def has me re-thinking my wardrobe.
A good, local garden blog with tons of inspiration and isn’t all uber complicated. She’s my edible landscape inspiration!
Wow, wow, wow. Jimmy Carter. Such a powerful and thoughtful message about religion.
The inside joke of biscuits during my rec softball games have me obsessing about baking some. I think this recipe will do.
So occasionally, I hunt. I feel like I need to say this in a whisper though, as guns and killing animals isn’t always stuff people around here like to hear about. As much as I appreciate the liberal vibes of our dear city, I still feel like there is stigma attached with doing what I occasionally do. I tend to keep it on the DL even though I want to shout from the rooftops that I am a responsible gun owner and always eat what I catch/dig/shoot. So please don’t judge 🙂
The 4am wake up call is probably my least favorite thing about hunting, but I admit there’s this pure sense of calm seeing the sun rise quietly over a corn field. It seems like these days we are out in nature less and less and trudging through the fields and getting knee deep in mud grounds me a bit. It’s an emotional, deep feeling being out there…waiting, watching. I find that I’m way more in tune with my surroundings after a hunt. For the next week, my senses are magnified x10 – it’s kind of a super natural feeling.
When you do take that animal’s life, it’s a powerful, powerful experience. Excitement and sadness hit you all at once. You are thrilled that your practice has paid off but mourn the loss of life. It’s something that I internally debate all of the time. I hate seeing an animal suffer right in front of me but know that deep down, that’s the right thing to do – to do it myself. If I choose to eat this way, I need to be part of the process as much as I can. So I do. I roll up my sleeves, get my hands dirty and field dress those ducks. All in a days work.
And it happened again….while attending a friend’s b-day BBQ last Friday, the bird pictured below attacked me. Go figure, hun? Who is their right mind owns a f-ing turkey!? Only in Georgetown…
My only thought as to why it attacked was that it wanted was was on my dinner plate. I also happened to be wearing a maxi dress with a feather-like print so dude must have thought I was a rival turkey? I ran for my life, this bird at my heels, my dinner plate spilling here and there. I’m hoping I didn’t scream bloody murder as I ran, but can yah blame me? As I made a final lap around the driveway (I think I made 2 or 3….), a party goer shooed him away with a large stick.
I suspect I know where I’ll be getting my turkey this year for Thanksgiving…..
Well I don’t know exactly how to start this post. There’s really no easy way to tell this story, so here it goes….
On Thursday, July 24 at approximately 9:10am I was attacked on Capitol Hill 1/2 block from where I work (16th and Madison). I had been late getting into the office and was hurriedly walking down Madison Street right near Trader Joe’s and the Central Co-op. I often walk this route as it is usually a busy street, full of people walking to and from those stores.
I’m very aware of the types of crimes that happen in this neighborhood. It’s not exactly the safest place in town, but I’ve always felt fine cruisin’ around. I consider myself a very street savvy gal – my phone is hardly ever out and I scan my surroundings to avoid spots that look like trouble. But back to the story….
As I got halfway down that particular block, I felt an immense shove from behind that almost brought me to my knees. The shove was more along the lines of a full on football tackle and I felt my neck snap with the body on body impact. “Great, another neck injury.” I thought to myself as I gained my balance.
For a split second, I strangely thought it was a long lost friend of mine who hadn’t seen me in ages and was a little too overjoyed to see me. I just couldn’t understand why else someone would touch me on the street like that. I turned about to see who this excited person was, and was shocked to see someone I did not even remotely know looking right at me. I yelled a few expletives and turned and ran into work trying to shake it off as some random, crazy person. I did manage to look back over my shoulder a few more times, just to make sure he wasn’t following me to do it again. Luckily, he took off in the other direction.
As I sat down at my desk and tried getting prepared for the day ahead, I began to shake. Bad. It was starting to sink in that maybe this wasn’t just random and that perhaps I was being targeted on purpose. I recalled as I was regaining my balance that there happened to be no one even near me on that popular block, which I found strange. I always make a point to look at everyone in the face as I walk by them on the street and I did not pass this man before he attacked me. He must have been hiding behind a building or dumpster waiting for a lull on that block so he could attack someone and that lucky someone was me.
My colleagues encouraged me to call the police and I dialed up the non-emergency line. Once I got a hold of the operator, she told me that I probably should have called 911 right away. Looking back, I can definitely see why that would be helpful to them but I was mostly unscathed and didn’t want to be a bother. There are far worse things happening in the city, which rang so very true when the police showed up two hours later for my statement. There had been a big shooting on 23rd and Jackson right around the time I was attacked and all available police were sent that way. The dispatcher did call me to let me know, which I thought was extremely nice of them.
I gave my statement, trying to recall every single little detail then was promptly sent home. Honestly, I felt OK at first. My adrenaline was still running high and I sort of balked at the idea of being at home. But the next day I crashed and crashed hard. I wanted nothing more than sleep, lots of sleep and my mid-back and neck were throbbing. I went and saw my doctor early the following week and was prescribed anti-anxiety medication and high doses of ibuprofen. I just couldn’t get my heart to stop racing.
It’s now been over a week, and I’m doing OK. My back is still sore and walking around does give me a bit of anxiety, but I know in time, it’ll all get better. I also know that it could have been worse, way worse. I do worry how I will feel walking to work come fall when it’s pitch black, but I’m trying not to think about that right now. I also worry about my sis who lives right down the street and walks places quite often. Ugh, here comes the worry wart…..
The police said that they were glad I reported it. Having someone attack you in broad daylight on a busy street is not a good thing. My case will be put into the bunch and could possibly be used down the road if similar cases are reported. And, if they happen to find the creep, I might have to go and point him out in a line-up. Fun times.
So lesson learned peeps. The city is a rough and tumble place. Watch your back and always call the cops.
Looks a little different, eh? I decided it was time for a good old face lift for my blog since I’m into my 8th year! Just like my hair style changes with the times, so should my blog. Am I right ladies? It’s a work in progress, but I’m headed in a new, fantastic direction.
