Leftovers and wasted food

Wasted food is a wasted opportunity, or at least that's the thought process that Tina and I go through whenever we have to throw away food.  Typically, we throw away very little food- usually, it's spoiled dairy products.  We have tried over the years very hard to cook all our own meals and remix the leftovers- last night's rice makes great fried rice with Tuesday's pork chop remains, and so on.

But one food that almost never provides us leftovers is homemade pizza.  We in fact have pre-cut bell peppers in the freezer for our pizza, and rarely a week goes by that we don't eat a pizza.

So why am I talking about food on a blog about Orthodoxy?  Why not?

But actually it's about stewardship.  Official Wife Tina and I have a massive food budget of $62.50 per week for groceries.  At present, we've saved about $40 over the past three months of groceries, which means that the current food price spike is basically not a problem.  This is great for us.

Food economics are home economics.  And the way we do it is time consuming, but it's a useful practice- we spend about five minutes per week perusing the sale papers, and about 2 hours every Saturday shopping.  And that's it.  We don't go to the store otherwise, and that is how we do it.  A purposeful approach to food purchasing has led us to engage in purposeful purchasing of all kinds.  We make a list, we price it out, and we go in prepared.

Of course, no plan of battle survives contact with the enemy.  The enemy, of course, is the consumption-driven world we live in, for we are in the world, but not of it.  To that end, we do have one thing we don't do with our grocery budget: the farmer's market.  The farmer's market, when it's in season, gets up to $20 per week, and no more.  And we do not bank it.  Each week, $20.  Most weeks, we don't even come close to spending it.

OFFICIAL WIFE: Saints Freak Me Out

I got some recommendations on some Ortho books by Ortho women because I made a remark that everybody that was anybody had a beard. I've started on them. Go ahead and be scared.

Just take a moment; think about gremlins or something. Be scared. Now you can worry about upcoming OW Reads posts! (Don't really worry. Just plan to get the books. You have to read the entries alongside the books.)

NOOOooooooo!

Be.

Really.

Really.

Scared.

Anyway, it lead to thoughts and discussion(s) that have helped me understand better why saints (and by extension icons, which I just pretty much ignore at this point) freak my shit out.

[Sidenote: No words should be prohibited. You shouldn't be mean or ugly, but your vocabulary should not be limited. That's a dangerous road. I'm taking a stronger stance on that these days. Still hurts to do something that might result in someone yelling at me, but I'm goin' with it. Upcoming post with thoughts I hope you will consider.]

Short story with saints and icons: All the glory to God.

Fact#1: The saints are humble. --elsewise, they wouldn't be a saint, right?
Fact#2: Human beings only perform miracles through the grace of God. We do not have the power to perform miracles. Whatever good we do is due to God. He did create humans.

Conclusion: I am NOT COOL with praising people for what God did. The people that God worked through almost always (all instances that I've seen) are NOT COOL with people praising them for what God did. They also say the glory is for God.

*sigh* Figuring this out is really relieving. I was honestly just terrified. Terrified. Bad.


How do Orthos reconcile this? Don't know. I'm just glad I've got it right enough in my brain, for now. Understanding and acknowledging what I don't know--it seems like nothing, but I promise, understanding what you don't know is a thing.

I leave you with poetry---

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15535#sthash.TSIfmflr.dpuf

This is just to say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

William Carlos Williams

Love and Ham/Cheese Bites (for selected few in a certain geographic area),

just the me that's got a might bit o' protestant left in me left leg

PS: Reading, thoughts, and discussion... You know that leads to dancin', right? So be careful, because you know what dancing leads to.

Aerobics.

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15535#sthash.TSIfmflr.dpuf

I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold - See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15535#sthash.TSIfmflr.dpuf

OFFICIAL WIFE: Recent Drafts

In chronological order of first draft since
**THE AWESOME LEAH COMMENT**
... of AWESOMENESS:

Men and HillsJust a couple of memories, one from Baptist land and one from Ortho land, I see symmetry. Both were well-meaning guys that scared me bad.

Fasting (or not) Through the YearsTime to 'fess up; thangs ain't how they used to be-- and there's a twist.

Kinds of PrayingNot anything new as ideas in the church world but could be offensive

OW Reads: The Scent of Holiness
I've convinced myself that I'm going to offend people with this one so it may not get published. This is the opposite of "comments not welcome" should I get up the courage eventually. In fact, it'd be reassuring. I think the idea of OW Reads kinda thoughts on books posts is good, though, so I'm not empty handed for the time I put in.

Favorite Churches
I started this tonight, and it's nice light happy reading. This will definitely get published. Nothing to do with architecture, for people who might be confused.

Shout out to my Ortho Loot Droppin' Lady!

Peace,

Tina

A year through the Twelve Great Feasts of the Church

Thursday marks the Dormition of the Theotokos (or I guess the Dormition of the Theotokos marks Thursday), and hopefully my successful conclusion of my year-long quest to attend Divine Liturgy for each of the Great Feasts of the Church in one liturgical year.  I had originally planned to post after attending each service, but I decided against it, since I already have sufficient pride.

I am  blessed that I have the opportunity to attend these festal services.  It hearkens back to the village life of the Russian peasant whence I have come, and recalls the more integrated life of the previous centuries.  Curiously, though, by being more atomized, I have found integration in a more dispersed community of Orthodox Christian.

In reading some of the more popular Orthodox blogs, I have learned a great deal about the struggles of other American Orthodox Christians.  Our struggles are the same as those that have always confronted Christianity; church attendance, proper attitudes towards Christ, how to treat others well when we feel badly, and rearing children.  These are the problems of humanity, and the problems of Christians, and, therefore, the problems of the Church.

By concentrating on attending the great feasts, I have been working on my salvation.  My major role, aside from singing and reading in the church, is driving the carpool vehicle, which I enjoy very much, not just because it saves others the effort, but for the genuine joy of helping others come to church.  Coming to church has become to me a joyous thing, because I no longer spend the time traveling from home to church worrying about the time I'm spending getting there.  I'm going to church with my fellow Christians, who are all depending on me.

OFFICIAL WIFE: The Cookies Are More Than They Appear

--and the tomato pies.

The intertubes are not as commenty as I'd like. People are still learning how this works. People are scared, and I guess rightly so. "People are scared," is almost a mantra at this point. I wish there were less cause for the phenomena. The internet is no worse than real life, really. I wish people understood that. Wishes for fishes?

Still, I had a remark about some cookies. Evidently it meant something to someone so that's good.

I made these cookies again today because it's a holiday. I only baked three and put the rest of the dough in the freezer because we're fat.

--and I thought about --I guess-- my church family. You'll have to forgive me, just a bit, a tiny bit. I'm not Ortho. I even hope not to be Ortho, although I continue to consider it, and a child will make it very hard to deny. Still, I'm gonna call you my church family. I may not be on the roll, but there's names I could name who I call friends. It's more than rules as much as it is more than a building.

I am confident I know what Church is.

What is little c church? [and if you quote a saint, and they are less than genius in this particular quote, you are immediately disqualified in a made-up competition.][[but all responses will be gladly accepted]][[[And living people's opinions are favored]]]

OFFICIAL WIFE: Superstition

People change. I delighted in most school transfers growing up. I could reinvent myself. I worry now that my bosses still see in me the twenty-one year old girl that they hired while now I pretty much am the one to tell them how things (procedurally, not policy) work.

I am not Orthodox. Loud and clear. Don't claim it. Am very adamant when someone says I'm Ortho because Alex is. (We all know that's not correct.) I am also not Baptist because my father was Baptist. I'm not one of you, with your 'one of us' chant, which isn't all of you lumped together but a disturbing quality of every denomination ever. However, converting is not the only way to grow towards other groups of Christians.

I think my post about going to the church in Alabama, the first one, where I was so ashamed that I bowed to another person and saw a lady pray to an icon and was so scared I thought I might go to Hell-- yeah that post-- I think that scared some very normal people who happen to be Orthos. It shouldn't. That's how it looked to me. You don't have to convince me. For better or worse, as the saying goes, I'm stuck. And I chose this life. Still there's no reason not to be honest. And it was scary.

Tonight, while I was examining holy rolls to see if I could guess which one Alex would most prize (pretty radonkulous, I get you want to offer your best, but also people's best is different and that is SO important to note for me), I realized, that, while I thought a lot of times that Orthos are superstitious, in particular that night where the lady laid a tinfoil bound bouquet of fake flowers to a picture and prayed to it, I was the one superstitious. Scared honestly so I wouldn't confront me then, but scared for no reason. I wasn't doing it, and I should have faith in God to protect me. Alex said it brought her comfort. It did. She was praying for her husband overseas in war. He was right. While I don't think human beings can answer prayers or even that dead people can influence our omnipotent God, there's no reason for me to be afraid.

This is the Sabbath

Right now is the Sabbath, the glorious day of the Lord's rest after creating the world, which is commemorated on Holy Saturday.  Pascha occurs just after midnight, when we impatiently greet the Risen Lord after finding His tomb empty.

Today is my Sabbath, and right now I am enjoying the liturgically prescribed wine and bread in the form of a beer, the great glorious combination of wine and bread.  Everything in the house is ready for tomorrow morning, when I will return, bright, tired, cranky, rejoicing, and above all, at peace following the celebration of the Resurrection.  Our pascha basket is prepared, filled with a combination of fresh fruit, cured meats, kulich, cheeses, salt, and butter.  We are prepared to recognize the glory of the Lord.  In my mind, I am pacing my restoration of the temple to its traditional layout following the procession.  I can usually manage to finish it by the second time the parish makes it around the church.

This morning we enjoyed the beautiful apprehension of anticipation, reliving the promise of the restoration to paradise and life eternal through the fifteen Old Testament readings, punctuated by the Song of Moses and the Song of the Three Youths.  This evening, we will meet the Messiah in Jerusalem.  Glory to Thy Resurrection, O Lord!