my life – Page 4 – Like An Anchor

One Tasty Sandwich and A Tale of House-sitting

9 July, 20148 July, 2014Marissa

I spent most of the past week house-sitting for my Uncle, which largely involved spending time with his crazy animals. I’d thought the dogs (which I’d heard horror-stories about) would be the problem, since I don’t really care for dogs and I was a bit afraid of them. But they were perfect sweet-hearts while I was there (though right after I left they killed a skunk and rolled in it to prepare for my uncle’s home coming). It was the cats that almost drove me crazy.

I love cats. I think they are adorable. Just for the record, I still think that after spending the week with Nosey Dude and Remy (aka Hoodwinked or whatever you feel like calling him at any given moment). It’s just that they tried my patience a little. I was warned not to bother closing the bedroom door because Remy has figured out door knobs. So I left the door open, and Nosey demonstrated how aptly he was named by coming in to check on me every three hours. By “check on me” I mean pounce on my head (he must weigh 20 pounds) and walk around the pillow crying for attention. I managed to barricade the door on subsequent nights.

Remy has also figured out cupboard doors. I heard weird noises from the kitchen all week, and finally caught him sliding into the cupboard where clean dishes are stored. Yuck! I also found him knocking a knife from the counter to the floor. Not sure I want to know what his plans were for that.

Both cats were very talkative, and very interested in the kitchen. They were constantly telling me how hungry they were, and though they looked like they should be on a diet I did feed them three times a day as instructed (with a couple tiny little scoops in between. I’m a sucker for begging kitties). I didn’t spend much time cooking for myself, preferring to take advantage of the alone time to write. One thing I did whip up was a tasty sandwich. It’s not exactly my normal recipe type of post, but that’s what I’m going to share today.

I started by seasoning a piece of chicken with McCormic’s Grill Mates Montreal Chicken spice that I found in the cupboard. Then I just fried it in a thin layer of oil, like I do for Mushroom-Herb Chicken and Thai-Peanut Chicken.

I’d brought some lettuce from home, and stopped at Meijer to pick up Swiss cheese (I could only find slices, which was convenient but why were there no bricks of Swiss cheese?), multigrain ciabatta rolls, and Olive Oil mayonnaise (which I’ve been wanting to try, since I’m a big fan of olive oil).

It all turned into a nice sandwich, particularly tasty with a juice smoothie on the side. I’ve developed a passion for Naked juice, particularly the Mighty Mango variety (though with this particular lunch I was trying out Strawberry Banana).

My Hair is a Sign?

7 July, 20143 February, 2021Marissa

As I’ve written before (see post “Breeding Red-heads“), my sister and I receive quite a number of comments on our red hair. These range from complementary to inappropriate; from harmless to creepy. I was starting to think I’ve heard at least one variation on most of the types of comments that people might make. This weekend, however, proved me wrong. My sister and I were visiting a Messianic group to spend Shabbat with them. The meeting hall for our regular church group has gotten so bad for my allergies that I can’t go back until they find a new building (I only stayed 10 minutes last time, and still my sister had to drive me home). I don’t want to be without fellowship, though, so I’m visiting other local Sabbath-keeping groups. Anyway,we were talking with a man who’d just introduced himself, and the conversation turned to our hair. There was much chattering and background noise, so I’m not entirely sure I caught all the conversation, but here’s the gist of what he said:

It’s so nice to see red-heads. So rare. Did you meet Emily? Yes? she dyed her hair red when we heard redheads will be extinct by 2050. To show she supported you. We never meet many red-heads you know? and now you are here, it’s a sign. For Jews, things happen in threes. Signs, you know? So Emily dying her hair was the first sign, and now two red heads appear here in our group. You are a sign!

Well, that’s the first time I’ve been called a sign. I have no idea what we might be a sign of, but he seemed pretty positive that’s what we were. (BTW, the red-head extinction theory is — thankfully — bogus.)

Breeding Red-Heads

30 September, 201330 September, 2013Marissa

Red-Head Complaints marissabaker.wordpress.com — my hair

I love having red hair. But there are times when I wish it wasn’t quite so unusual. No one walks up to other girls and says, “Wow, your hair is brunette” or “Your hair is so blond.” As if I didn’t already know I have red hair. Hair stylists tell me they have clients who would kill for my hair color (which is kinda creepy if you think about it– red hair isn’t that amazing).

The most awkward comments are those about how rare red hair is becoming. The first one I remember happened when I was only seven or eight years old and an elderly couple told my red-haired sister and me that we needed to marry red-headed men so we could preserve the red-head population. I’ve heard these types of comments several times since then, but the most awkward has to be the one we received last week.

My sister and three friends were about to jump out of a plane (don’t worry, they had parachutes). I convinced myself it was okay to be cowardly and tag along just to take pictures (after all, think how many books you could buy for the cost of a skydive!). We were all standing in the hanger, waiting on the instructors, when a guy who might have been in his 60s walked up to the desk. He looked over at my sister and I and commented on our red hair. But he wasn’t content to stop there, and continued by saying how rare red-heads are becoming. I braced myself for the inevitable comment about red-headed babies, but wasn’t quite ready for him to shout, “You should breed!”

I think my face turned as red as my hair.