More Adventures in Healthy Eating - Do I have spinach in my teeth?

If you are a frequent visitor to this blog, you will remember the previous entry about cooking with and eating more garbanzo beans.  I still have a couple of containers in my freezer. 

As you may recall, I am trying to eat healthier as I age and introduce different meal ideas to the family.   

 

This time, my distraction is with baby spinach leaves.  I searched the 'net for healthy recipes.  I just didn't want one that required cooking or acquiring too many uncommon ingredients.  

One of the resident young people told me about an easy and healthy sandwich that requires bread (any whole wheat or multi-grain variety), red pepper hummus (contains chickpeas - yay!) and baby spinach leaves (organic and or washed).  How complicated can that get?  

Instructions and pictures:

Wash your hands.

Gather your ingredients onto a clean working surface.

Acquire a clean plate and butter knife.  

Spread the hummus onto two slices of bread. 

Apply a couple of layers of spinach leaves onto one slice.  

Stop. Go check on the cat who slipped out onto the balcony.

Whew.  He's okay.  Just enjoying the morning sun.  

 

Where was I?
Right... Close the sandwich.

 Cut into segments. 

   

I find that triangles look fancier than squares.

To each his own... 

 

Taste test.

Yum.

   

Yum.

  

Yum.

You know how it goes from here.  

 

Yum, indeed!  This may become one of our regular, healthy lunch meals - especially in the summer when I do not want to cook.  

I do so enjoy cooking, checking and occasionally stirring a pot of soup, stew or pasta sauce.  I find cooking and the related preparation work to be therapeutic.  I also enjoy sharing the results with family and friends. 

In my novel, young Sera Fletcher is introduced to the smooth workings of the kitchen at the Red Hare Restaurant.  She soon forgets her loneliness and feels better as she immerses herself into the tasks. 
  
Thanks for dropping by!  Remember to share your reaction or submit a related comment below. 

T


 

Can you ever have too many garbanzo beans?

Over the past dozen years, I have been making healthier lifestyle and menu choices.  

I have been successful with avoiding collections of "stuff" that I don't need or don't have space to store.  I avoid noisy events and unhealthy, controlling relationships.   

A recent attempt at a relaxing meditation session did not prove successful.  Oh, well... Two steps forward and one step back.  Believe it or not, I am also looking for more ways to move my body - without becoming sweatier than usual or severely hurting myself. Salsa, anyone?

Aside from a monthly allowance of bacon and potato chips (yum!), I also try to watch what I eat.

My latest attempt at healthy menu options was cooking an entire package of Ferma brand dried chickpeas - and ending up with A LOT of chickpeas.  Garbanzo Beans Galore! 

That's okay.  Did you know you can pack the beans and refridgerate them for three days? You can add them to rice dishes and salads. Did you also know that you can pack and freeze them for later use? 

A resident young person offered to make chickpea curry one day this week.  Yum again! 

So, what are the benefits of eating chickpeas?  According to the following links, they are high in protein and fibre, plus they help control hunger if you eat them as snacks (instead of those potato chips).  They will also help ladies of a certain stage in life control hot flashes.  Well, we will see about that.  Get back to me in a few months...

Benefits of garbanzo beans:

• 3 health benefits of chickpeas
• What's New and Beneficial about Garbanzo Beans
• How to use natural remedies for hot flashes

This still has me wondering though... Are there any recipes that include bacon? 

Thanks for dropping by.  You are welcome to comment or select one of the reaction check-boxes.   Although I cannot offer you an extra portion of chickpeas through this blog, I can treat you to some excerpts from The Year of the Rabbit - a novel about Fate, Family and Forgiveness.  See what others have shared after reading the book. 

T 

Career choices - if we embraced childhood dreams

As a child, I enjoyed digging in the dirt and playing outdoors. 

Do you share memories of wearing rubber boots, digging channels and redirecting rivers around your muddy cities - all the while oblivious to the spring rain? 

Do you remember building sand castles on the beach only to see them topple minutes later into the approaching waves?

Do you share a fascination with King Tut treasures, burying  boxes of trinkets in a garden corner, dreaming that some future civilization would discover them?

Of the many possible career choices, I wonder if I could have made it as a city planner or an archeologist.  For the latter, I admire the persistence and physical endurance that the job requires.  You would get to travel around the world, be part of a team immersed in the local dirt.  You definitely wouldn't be sitting on your butt all day!

You get to share the excitement of discovering ancient graves ... under a parking lot.  Sorry - in Edinburgh they call it a "car park". 
 

 


This is exciting for someone who enjoys the history and mystery of the middle ages.  The only treasured discoveries for me lately have been due to visits from family bearing heirlooms. 

Since being an apartment dweller, I no longer have a small back yard garden where I can dig, grow or ... bury things. I have to satisfy my green thumb tendencies by puttering with the potted plants inside.  All we need are some colourful, flowering varieties.   

In the meantime, I can make plans with family and friends to visit places around the Ottawa Valley where we can enjoy natural gardening sites and annual festivals of bloom.  All this without getting dirty!

 
If you are curious about things that turn up in the spring, visit the blog for The Year of the Rabbit where my nom de plume  invites people to dig a little deeper.  She has dabbled in the mysteries of creative writing.  

Thanks for dropping by.

T

Good vibratience

I admire the patient, well-balanced people. 

My own journey to becoming a more patient and mindful person has taken a few detours over the past couple of years.   

Due to a couple of appointments looming and my wishing to reduce stress levels last week, I had arranged to take Wednesday as a vacation day. 

My early morning started with one cup of instant coffee,  an empty stomach and a team effort to unceremoniously stuff a Tabby cat into her carrier.  She was not allowed to have breakfast prior to a medical procedure.  Being the empathetic person that I am, I chose not to eat either. 
 
We waited and waited for a taxi.  I used my iPad mini to take photos of the Cedar Waxwings invading the cherry trees in my neighbourhood.  It was a pleasant distraction for me but not for the cat.

After waiting patiently for an hour to finally reach a taxi driver who would take a pet in his pristine vehicle, we arrived at the veterinarian's office, apologetic and flustered.  I signed Miss Kitty in for the day, said goodbye and promised to return later in the afternoon.  She was not pleased. 

After treating myself to a hearty restaurant breakfast of steak and eggs, I bussed to my own doctor's office for a pre-arranged appointment.  When the doctor informed me there would be a ten-minute delay, I thanked him and waited patiently, reading Madame Bovary (the English version downloaded to my iPad Mini).  I didn't have the energy to dig out my glasses to read the meditation book I had also toted along.  Besides, after another twenty minutes of waiting, I was not in the state of mind to accept the wisdom presented within.  

When the good doctor was finally ready, he thanked me for being considerate.  Considerate?  I was hoping to hear "patient" or "understanding".

The purpose of the visit was to review the results from tests he had requested a couple of weeks prior.  To be brief, he confirmed that I am at that certain stage in life.  

This explains those sudden hot spells, mood swings and a growing impatience when suffering fools. 

I next made my way to meet an older, wise friend for lunch.  We shared personal and family updates over healthy salads.  We shared thoughts and hopes for the RCC now that it has a new Pope. 

After our lovely visit, I trotted off to another appointment, to be primped by a couple of my favourite beauticians.  They only had a few minutes each to work on me yet the results were above expectations.  

I made it back to the vet's office in time to check on Miss kitty, pay the bill and taxi home.  I chuckled at the sheet of instructions and the cute little tooth brush they gave me.  Yeah, right.  Like I'm going to use this on a cat that isn't even mine.  I doubt she would agree to sit patiently for a weekly brushing without being sedated.

 

The fragmented work week was topped off by a lovely Friday night dinner with a friend then proceeding to a Gong Meditation session.  

It was my third time attending these relaxing sessions over the past year.  Unfortunately, this one was not the best.  A young couple thought it would be delightful to bring their energetic four year-old along. He proved to be a distraction for all the up-tight ladies in the room.

What was I thinking during the 30 minute session? Breathe in. Breathe out. Let the sound waves wash over, relax me ... and gently, firmly descend upon the little imp, pinning him down onto the mat. I was NOT experiencing positive thoughts or words.  Who the heck thinks they can bring a young child to a meditation session and not expect distractions?  Now that was inconsiderate.

The instructor was patient and calmer than necessary through all of this.  At the closing of the session, she spoke of vibrations, sounds and the effect of words that come from our mouths.  

With bulging eyes and a grinding smile, I nodded in agreement with the concept of Conscious Communication.   I just wasn't feeling it.  Thank goodness another session participant took the oblivious mother aside and shared her thoughts.  

My friend and I didn't have the patience to stick around.  We were tired, agitated and just wanted to get home.
 
The next morning, after a restful sleep, I used any residual, angry energy in a positive manner while taking on some house cleaning. I hummed a happy tune as I scooped out the litter box and scrubbed the powder room.

 

The cat?  She's doing fine. She is once again my furry little friend, an artist's muse who allows me to feed her, scratch her chin and rub her belly.

She also gives off relaxing vibrations with her affectionate purrs.

T