"He was thinking once again of his comfortable chair before the fire in his favourite sitting-room in his hobbit hole, and of the kettle singing."

Not for the last time. :)

the last week (well really the whole quarter, but the last week in particular) has been rather harrowing. you know what I mean - exhausting, stressful, scary at times, always up-in-the-air, and distressing. the kind you're really not sure how or if you're going to make it through.





thankfully, both the week and the quarter are nearly over. I am confining the harrowing-ness to just this time period; it is not allowed to touch my break. well, it may show up on the doorstep of my break entirely uninvited, and drag me off with it like the dwarves did with Bilbo on their dreadful adventure that turned out not to be so bad after all.......





which leads me to my topic. FOOD. I guess I'm in much the same boat as Biblo. I've been having a rough couple of months. but every day I look around me and see people who have it so much worse than me. I think I'm just like a china vase, or a souffle or something - way too fragile for my own good. like, I have a sweet little girl friend who's in my bio class (we met in Shakespeare a year ago); her mom died of cancer when she was like ten, and her dad and her stepmom don't really like her, and she pays for her own school and works, and she's engaged but not telling anyone because she's afraid to tell her dad yet. but she's the sweetest person I know, and somehow manages to get through every day with a smile and still doing amazingly sweet things for other people. like bake a pumpkin spice loaf for her alcoholic boss who's going through a divorce, using the only little ceramic mini-loaf pan that didn't break when she dropped the bag after getting home from the store.


I, personally, wouldn't be baking for my alcoholic boss. and I certainly wouldn't use the last ceramic pan if the other five broke. but that shows some rather major defects of character, and I'm not headed that direction right now.


the point is, I know so many people who would trade their lives for mine in a second. but here I sit, so unhappy.


but really, I didn't come here to compare my life with everyone else's either. what I'm trying to say is that I'm an awful lot like Bilbo, in so many ways. firstly in my life situation, because I've been dragged off on a nasty, uncomfortable adventure that I don't really care for in the slightest, entirely against my will and without me having much say in it. (although really, if you look at my adventure, it's much tamer than most peoples'. children's lit. like the Hobbit compared with LotR.)


but in a few little ways I'm growing up through it. getting brave, maturing, surprising myself with what's inside of me (sometimes). still waiting to outsmart the dragon and come back home with chests of gold though.





but there's another way I'm a lot like Bilbo.





I LOVE FOOD.





I have recently fully admitted to myself that I am a foodie. According to my dictionary, a foodie is an enthusiast of cooking, eating, or shopping for good food. I fit all three categories extremely well (and so did Bilbo, I might add). Oh, I also like to write about food. :)


right this minute I don't want to go into the benefits and detriments of being a foodie. I realize that admitting it is the first step, so I guess I'm on the right track and will have to work out an exercise plan in the near future. But what's far more intriguing is that I've discovered that food is therapeutic for me. I mean, I guess I've always known that eating food is like this, because that's why I'm always eating. it was a problem for my mom too (she beat it, I'm still working on it). but COOKING is even more therapeutic for me. I just love to cook, no matter what it is, and even if it doesn't come out quite right. I love using up the tiny amount of leftover this-and-that in whatever I decide to make. even better is deciding to make things because of leftovers - stuff gets used up in something new. I love creation and I love recreation. I guess it's an echo of the Creator, who will one day recycle this old world into a new something. I guess God is a cook too.





But back to business. I remember about mid-quarter I made this huge list of things I wanted to cook/bake, mostly because pumpkin came out and I started craving fall food like mad. but I made it a point to make something on my list at least once a week. and even though the homework and the work and the emotional stuff was nearly killing me, I still made the time to cook, and it made me feel better. just being with the food and directing what happened with it - maybe it makes me feel like I'm in control of something. I don't know for sure what it is, but I know I love it. it's relaxing and destressing. and oh-so-yummy. :)





when Liz and I went to Whitworth a couple weeks ago, we brought along a pomegranate, because she (and most of the rest of the world as it turns out) had never opened one. so I educated her and we nearly filled a bowl with the lovely jewel-like seeds that are so amazing (especially with ice cream). today she put a picture of it on facebook, and instantly I had this urge so strong that I almost went to the store to buy a pomegranate. because right this moment I don't have enough energy to stand and cook or bake something, but sitting and deseeding a pomegranate - feeling all the little round, knobby fruits unpry under my fingers, staining my fingernails red and popping the stray seeds into my mouth - there is something very relaxing and, well, therapeutic about this.





not to mention healthy. have you any idea how loaded pomegranates are with antioxidants?





so there you have it. me, the foodie. with the Hobbit thrown in for kicks.