Out of a pickle and into the Pink!

Will you be wearing PINK tomorrow?

I don’t like pink. Outside a few choice pieces taking up some very prime real-estate in my closet, I don’t like or wear the color often… However, tomorrow,  in support of anti-bullying day in Canada (February 26), I will be sporting something pink – probably a lot of pink – perhaps even down to the flat sparkly Steve Madden shoes hiding amongst my stilettoes – not only to show support, but to more importantly assist in Amplifying the awareness of this ‘dirty little secret’ of the workforce.

Thinking about Bullying, the most common themes which come to mind are schools, children, sports teams; generally an adolescent environment. With cases in bullying and cyber bullying leading to a sharp increase of suicides and diagnosed depression for teens and pre-teens, and the mass media surrounding these pubescent public announcements on YouTube, Facebook and Twitter culminating in such a devastating event, a concentrated focus has been launched to hold accountable those guilty of participating in acts of bullying by the media, the authorities and by our communities.

But the question remains: At what age does bullying stop and what exactly is Workplace Bullying?

Why would we even talk about bullying as adults, outside of being a referee to our children when necessity dictates? We are mature! We are dignified and educated! We have morals and ethics and principles’ and we brandish them about through the same social venues as our kids, setting the scene to one-up each other with our self-boasting kindness and gratitude.  We have laws and policies and procedures, protected groups under the Human Rights Commission (Prohibited Grounds of Discrimination), and we live in a country where we are known to be polite and kind and quick to apologize... so why the need to promote anti-bullying awareness, especially in the work environment in Canada?

I can honestly say that this was a snapshot of my attitude, and I was genuinely shocked to recently find out that 40% of Canadian workers experience bullying on a weekly basis and more that 70% of workplace bullies are in a position of authority in an organization. Working in a Corporate environment for a number of years as a respected and contributing member to society, the thought of being bullied in any manner was so completely alien to me that the “required training” on respectful workplace practices seemed to be a time-wasting make-work project because it was a matter of good manners, golden rule application, politeness – common sense of a Corporate Environment in Canada. I am humbled by my ignorance!

Corporations and workplaces are not only expected to, but are required to make sure that specifically protected rights are just that – Protected. But what happens outside of the bounds of those protected rights filtering into a bullying scenario?

Not much as I unfortunately found out.

You see, after being in an Educated, Professional, Corporate environment for over 10-years, I found myself in quite the pickle and directly experienced workplace bullying from my direct manager which the Company supported and ultimately led to me severing ties on the basis of constructive termination.

Serious stuff!

Over the course of 4-months, my “new boss” had made coming to work a complete nightmare. I cannot even begin to describe the shock and anger I felt, the absolute helplessness of the situation due to lack of action of superiors when asked to get involved or to help with the conflict, the counteraction by Management to good-faith reporting and lack of seriousness from HR. The stress and panic felt during my short drive to work made me nauseous even though I knew the individual would not be there… the associated physical stress to my body including missing my period and the chronic tension headaches for days at a time, not to mention the personal emotional toll that also affected personal relationships with my family and friends was demoralizing on many levels. It was devastating to me that the company I worked for, which so proudly flaunted its Ethics and Principles, would not only ignore but support these types of actions by an individual in a position of authority when a situation actually arose.

I had never experienced anything close to what I was subjected to at that company and I had no idea how to react to it.

Interestingly enough, I found out that although OH&S covers Bullying in the Workplace, no other province in Canada has legislation for this except Quebec. And, while it is generally accepted that behavior which is unreasonable and offends or harms any person should not be tolerated, without a strong legal team and a lot of money behind you, it is quite an easy item to “sweep under the carpet” if a company chooses not to deal with the issue, documented or not.  Perhaps it is time that OH&S reviews this and implements something to protect these 40% of workers experiencing this type of treatment weekly in Alberta. How sad is it that to improve our fundamental treatment of people, a law needs to be implemented to make a difference…

Happily ensconced in a new position with a new company where this issue is taken very seriously hasn’t made this situation disappear for me. My experience will stick with me for the remainder of my career and while I have learned exponentially from it, sharing my experience stems from the desire to bring awareness to the issue, providing some helpful links to recognize what bullying is, how to react to it – what to do, who to see and what to document – and what options you have open to you if you see or experience Bullying in the workplace. As society becomes smaller through the use of technology, our sense of community feels as though it’s growing further apart and manners, courtesy and kindness declining, a sad result because of this.

I cannot change my experience, or the people, or how it affected me. But the effect has been finding my Voice and speaking out against Bullying -and hopefully, it will help someone at some point who experiences something similar. 

My question to you is: What part will you play? 

So back to wearing Pink… not my favorite color, but those prime real-estate stealing pieces in my closet are exceptional.. Tomorrow will be exceptional too.

Pink_Shirt_Day

OHS_Workplace_Bullying

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Back in the Jar...

It’s taken a week and I’m finally past my crazy-ass frustration of trying to hack back-into my “pickle-post.” Now while this may be indicative of waiting 2 years before posting, I do not want a new Google account (I have 3 new ones now…). No, I do not want a new blog and No, I do don’t remember my freaking password! I did manage to find both a new email address previously unknown to me as well as an alternate Facebook page…  And so it went for a week, which left me doing a happy dance in my little cubicle at work when I finally managed to hack my way into it, forgetting the well placed mirrors on the ceiling that broadcasted it to the rest of the office.  So, not surprising, I’ve been in the jar, out, and back in it… and somehow over the last year I’d managed to forget the insanity of a pickle-hangover and horribly bad dreams and subjected my poor roommate to it as well after driving 3 hours round trip for a $3.95 bowl of soup! March 19^th and it’s been a steady-go back on the wagon since January first… so, much to catch up on, but will stick to the highlights to keep it shorter!

The year started out with me on deaths door and almost hospitalized (stupid tooth!!) for a severe case of C-diff… (Google this if you don’t know what it is – actually, don’t… kind of nasty), a compromised immune system, toxic liver (hooray for antibiotics), and broken tasty buds. Rough. In walks Superhero Sauerkraut and I’m astounded how crazy awesome it helped, which was not just unexpected but a great side effect of getting back on my pickle-project. Besides tasting absolutely amazing smothered in Swiss cheese, proper rye and corned beef, this humble little German concoction is loaded full of anti-oxidants, Lactic Acid Bacteria which is essentially probiotics fundamental for intestinal flora and what I blame for inadvertently getting me back healthy – Bravo Sauerkraut!! My absolute amazement is how my body just knew what it wanted… and needed to get better. Note to self: Follow through on those cravings! (Ice-cream not included!)

What followed were many a different little and big pickles… beets, pickled bean, carrots, spicy green tomatoes (which were addictive!!!), pickle soaked pan-fried pickerel with tartar sauce, and my heart in my throat one evening realizing that eating another cucumber pickle was tantamount to cheating. So, at 6:30 PM I’m standing in horror in the refrigerated ‘strange’ section at the grocery store (you all know where this is…) phoning my roommate to see what would be worse: Pickled eggs or pickled herring… both on my list for the year and both things I’m not looking forward to. The reminder that we had fresh pickled red onion at home and that the plan was to make pickled avocado (which I still haven’t gotten around to doing) was like a death-row pardon while being strapped to the chair… the sudden expulsion of breath while staring at my phone was only slightly less embarrassing than the resounding “YES” that I managed to yell out as other shoppers provided a large berth and inquisitive looks as they walked past… Pickled onion along with pickled beets on Betty-girls tuna casserole (another delicious first) was quite delightful and a definite “save” for the day. Scheduling in the pickled eggs and herring – both projects that require some undertaking and preparation – needs to be soon though or much later in the year… the idea of having either of those on a hot day is just… a little more than one should think about! Gearing up! O_o

I finally took the Kimchi plunge – again, another heart-stopping experience, which is relatively tame for what’s coming up... Funny how fermented cabbage is okay (sauerkraut), but fermented cabbage with spices and other vegetables sends me into an absolute panic. Airdrie has this fantastic little sushi spot called Zenbu  – it’s fantastic given that we’re completely land-locked here in Alberta and the idea of fresh raw fish is a bit of an oxymoron. If you haven’t been, you need to go. Anyway, “family dinner out” was sushi and although being predominantly Japanese, they just happened to have as the second item in the appetizer  section, Kimchi, which is Korean… slightly red, spicy, mushy looking, knowing there was fish-something in it, and cold… and a pickle that I haven’t tried yet.

Idiosyncrasies are something that fascinate me and one that I’ve discovered is so very predominant in me is that I/you have 2 choices when something scares me… let me think about it for a bit – enough to wrap my head around it so I’m not freaked out (we’re talking a week-or-so here people…), or tell me I’m jumping off a cliff and then push me… no time to think about it…

And suddenly, the waiter was at our table politely inquiring about our order. Taking the plunge, Betty-girl ordered the kimchi and the 5-or-so-minute wait until it arrived at the table (if I could sweat I would have been dripping buckets) was about the same as walking up to that cliff edge at Queen’s Bath last summer… scary, exciting, and then no option but to do it. Kimchi isn’t actually all that scary, has crazy-awesome health benefits and is one of those condiments that in Korea, people eat approximately 40-pounds per person a year (the equivalent of 3 billion pounds for North and South Korea combined in 2012) so there’s something amazing about this pickle – I just haven’t figured it out yet and also have an irrational fear of it, along with slugs and butterflies / moths.

The waiter arrived and placed the little bowl in front of us, which was then placed directly in front of me. Yup – it was all mine outside a few meager tastes by everyone else. It was a little strange tasting at first, and texturally was a bit rubbery given the size of vegetable chunks – nice and spicy, but it was a bit odd – not bad, just odd, new, different. Something I’m happy to say I will try again J and I’m sure won’t be quite so scary the next time.

Finding different varieties of pickle has started to become a challenge so Google is starting to give me some more options – some downright appalling, others quirky, and some fun – but at the end of the day it’s something new and exciting and at the same time ancient. It’s a piece of our heritage and history as a global family – each process of fermenting a little different, but a way of sustaining life and feeding our families and essentially one of those things that binds us together regardless of culture. We all have pickles!

The last few months have provided so much time to think and just settle inside despite the external chaos going on around me, and just focus… on me, on the things I enjoy, where I want to go, do, see… who I will continue to become, and it’s leading to the most wonderful of adventures and experiences. A lesson learned is one you don’t necessarily repeat, but sometimes it becomes the inevitable basis of finding out about something or someone else. There’s a saying that when you’re looking for something or are interested in something you suddenly see it everywhere? Well now it’s a little crazy to say that I see pickles everywhere, but I’d be lying to say it didn’t ring with some truth.

The lesson: “Just because you have an Out doesn’t mean you take it,” was the emotional pickle which had me out driving a few weeks ago. While making my way back to Calgary and driving through Claresholm, I saw Roy’s Place, really, for the first time. Outside beaming all bright in the darkness was ‘Dill Pickle Soup’… and it was a sign…

Literally – it was a sign – big, blue, white and yellow that I needed to drive around the block and take a picture of because I just couldn’t believe it! This, I needed to try. I had never heard of this before and for reals – this needed to happen! Last Thursday was THE night. Slightly snowing in Calgary, I raced home from work and grabbed Betty-girl and off we headed with her mom’s words, ‘It had better be a darn good bowl of soup to drive that far in this weather’. We drove 149 kilometers in each direction for a $3.95 bowl of dill pickle soup.

I miss small town diners – mostly because it is so reminiscent of where I grew up and The Hotel we always went to for snacks after skating in the winter or swimming in the river on a hot summer’s day… where we met up with family or friends; the constant of the same people present. Fast forward a lifetime and a few provinces, and last Thursday night was no exception. It was like stepping into a room hanging heavy with nostalgia… the smell of home cooking, the diner feel of old but comfortable furnishings struggling to stay somewhat current in colors that expired a decade ago; grumpy old gramps in the corner who didn’t quite get his meal right, the awkward and flustered 16-year-old waitress not fully comfortable with her job or herself, but trying so hard… the mom with her kids, the local teenagers and the young couple out on date night… same people and yet different people and it was like walking into a hug knowing that some things will never change.

The soup, at first bite… was different – dilly, creamy, thick, but developing slowly into this rich filling delight, layering the savory with a depth which wasn’t overwhelmingly “tangy”, but distinctly pickle. Country soup that sticks to your bones and warms your soul after being in the cold doing chores all day and having Gamma laugh and fuss over you when you come in, kind of soup. And that in itself – that feeling, hit my heart like a ton of bricks and I was 5-years old again… sitting in her kitchen with the bright orange curtains and white clock on the wall above the sink, warm and toasty from the winter chill outside and loved, muchly.

A pickle is a funny thing… it’s a predicament, a change, an evolution of one thing into another. Life isn’t much different. We all start out a little hard and opinionated like little vegetables thinking we know it all; that our rigidness is the factor to the Out. But, every day we have a little more ‘brine’ of life soak in, a little more experience which, softening us, changing us, making us wiser, kinder, richer – preserving us until one day… One day we realize we don’t really know much about anything we thought we did… and seeing how much we’ve changed and how far we’ve really come – being Willing to stay in that ‘brine’ and become something new… and wonderful… and exciting…

…that my friend, That is when life really begins. 

Day 61 - 65: Poignant Pickle

Life gets all together too serious sometimes and writing about something entirely frivolous like ‘Pickles’ can’t even pick me up tonight. But invariably, I find myself needing to write. I couldn’t just drive home tonight and ended up wandering the streets until I realized I was driving unconsciously towards the comfort of the water, eventually parking next to Lake Washington.

Turning off my car, I just sat there watching the small waves lap up onto shore in a desperate attempt to escape the boundaries set in rocky sand knowing that in some small way that was how I felt… trapped, with only a little movement to splash – not enough that anyone ever really notices but enough that I can feel myself pushing against the boundaries set stonily around me and I want to crash on this shore that surrounds me and be loud and dangerous and violent… but I can’t. There’s no wind… I’ve somehow lost my wind.

It has been a day of clarity, and in many respects I wish it wasn’t so. But as there is nothing in the world as constant as change, and knowing there’s no dream to wake up from, the simple stated fact remains that nothing is quite the same as it was when I woke up this morning…

Stepping out on a limb, no matter how sturdy it looks takes either courage or stupidity or a bit of both – altogether depending on the surface of the safety net or lack thereof – and I’m feeling midway out when the branch has cracked beneath me. So, I’m caught in the middle of falling, unsure of what lies through the misty fog below completely unaware of what’s next and without the balance of holding onto anything.

You see, boxing up so much emotion for so long, you become bitter, and hard, and cynical, espeically when you don't let it outwardly show. It takes even longer to start ‘bleeding red’ after ‘bleeding black’ for so long and I’m more scared to death of turning off again incase I never get this softness back. And unfortunately, the flip side of that is when something does happen that hurts, it is easiest to fall back on what we’ve been programmed to do. But unfortunately, turning off is not an option. Not for me anyway.

I’ve finally realized, wholly, that being the afterthought in someone else’s life to which you should be the priority is never how it should be, without exception. People are always so generous with their advice and opinions, but their luxury is that they do not have to live them. Support should never come in the choice form of the supporter but the supported, otherwise it just doesn’t work. It becomes conditional, objectified, idealized… words that I hate. It’s selfish and arbitrary… hypocritical even. Acceptance is what? Really – what is it? Because depending the defining characteristics of how it is individually flayed changes the intent and meaning of this simple word.

I don’t regret any of the decisions I’ve made – they make me exactly who I am today, right here in this moment, in this red chair in a basement apartment at 1:52 A.M., and I Like me.  I wish there were lessons I could have learned another way, or even not at all… I wish that I could have changed one single day and boarded a flight which would have redefined my existence – but to wish that would be to give up everything I’ve become and am now, 14 years later. That was my sliding door but to even hazard a guess erases not only who I am now, but who I will eventually become.

My pickle today is an emotional one… but its okay because every pickle eventually pares up with something be it savory or sweet, but always a delight in the end defining new tastes on the palate, exciting and new. Sometimes, it just takes a little time for the pickle to set or to cool or warm to the appropriate temperature. Sometimes, it just needs to wait for the perfect paring because it would be otherwise wasted on the mundane and never gets the opportunity to be fully perfect.

A little time and a little space… and maybe a little bit of wind. And eventually, a little taste of heaven.

Day 25 – 60: A Plethora of Pickles!

March 7th through April 7th, 2011

Lists…

Lists. Lists are tantamount to not going insane. Or trying, in any case. Crazy? How crazy… how crazy Is crazy in the big picture? Chel is looking at me like I’m crazy. Apparently, because I’m not paying attention to her as I’m typing, staring at her blankly and she’s accusing me of plagiarism… “You’re not listening to me! I want validation on my list… Wait! Don’t quote me on that!”, because I’m writing down what she’s saying…

I will save you from the torture of having to read the past month of pickles by Not listing each and every pickle eaten, however, will endeavor to recount the highlights… not in a list. But I ate at List… there was no pickle but it was delicious. (But secretly, I love lists… and List).

So goes my life of late… I’ve finally straightened out 4 weeks of crookedness, and proudly, am reporting the loss of only 2 days for missing pickles, and then only because I was simply not prepared; silliness, which I have thus rectified with the packages of relish I now keep in my purse. (It’s still a pickle people & I’m a girl on the GO!) I don’t truly count these days though, because technically, I’ve had up to 3 different pickles on some days so I think it balances out… like a pickle-bank! Oooo!

Having finally scaled the writing-block wall that appeared around a hidden corner and tried to take me out, I have courageously prevailed thus far. Mostly, I think because of fielding and dodging the inevitable “how’s the pickle adventure going?” “Still eating pickles?” questions, and the “you haven’t posted on your blog lately” statements, which, have somewhat guilted me into a forced write until a brilliant piece of writing by John Gardner, (an excerpt from his book ‘on becoming a novelist’, used cleverly in analogical form for the Brewmaster in an advert) caught my eye while waiting for the boys (resulting restroom trip following plethora of sample-size bevy’s which left me twiddling my thumbs wondering how I had a larger bladder than them…) after touring the Red Hook brewery (great beer btw… no pickles though).  Anyway, brilliantly writ, it sparked a hint of a flame which has been fanning into a roaring inferno. The editing is now killing me…

There have been many different pickles over the month and a few unexpected surprises. First and foremost, I should report that I have a complete irrational fear of pickled ginger.  I’m not sure why or how this developed, or even when (maybe when I started eating sushi??) but late night bevies at the Knee-High Stocking Company after a run to the Chinese Market found me having an ‘Absconded French Girlfriend’ containing absinthe and facing my ghastly fear. It’s ginger. It’s Not supposed to be pink, or sweet, or edible because at that point it’s simply NOT ginger! But, as it was late and without a proper pickle, I found myself, along with Jess and the bartender chowing down on it while Boris and Sadie-Mae watched on in horror. I’m still not entirely sure how I feel about pickled ginger but I can’t remember if I hated it, so therefore, am concluding that I may have enjoyed it – I do remember being surprised. Anyway, texting, pickled ginger and absinthe, no matter HOW okay you think it is, should never mix. Ever.

The awfulness of the “Napoleon” pickle (as earlier reported on) again found itself in the bar fridge. However, this time in the form of pickled baby corn. I was running out of options for pickles and well, corn… it was there, on the shelf, at the grocery store hiding out with the olives and hot peppers, taunting me. So, I figure, “I will suffer through, I survived pickled ginger!” Well the expected napoleon assault to my poor taste buds never actually came… it was a delightful burst of summer freshness. Spain, you got a ‘WINNING’ on this one!

Okay, moving on! SHOTS! Somehow, nachos turned into Patron shots, which, in turn turned into “I’ve got pickled habaneros!!”

Formula: Lick, salt, lick, habanero– chew… chew more… (Feel the heat!) Patron, lime… and DANCE!

Please, please try this, but note you will probably, as we did, need to chase it with a spoon of ice-cream to cool the insanity flaring in your mouth. This is tornado meets hurricane and agrees simply to HOT sunshine and happily ever after. And AGAIN!!! 

Unicorn pub has really good mini deep-fried battered dill pickles with a sauce flecked with dill. DeLISH! (A BIG thank-you to Reefy & Zeke for humoring me and trying them!!)

Pickled spicy green beans covered in reduced grainy mustard and chardonnay cream sauce was divine…

Coastal Kitchen has the most amazingly perfect omelet featuring finely sliced pickled asparagus, layered with fresh spinach, mushrooms and cheese… it was a dance of nymphs set to the flute of mimosa. *bliss! Please do this one if you have the opportunity – great food, amazing wait staff and incredible ambiance!

Good, old-fashion Reuben sandwich… Heaven on bread *sigh… if only it wasn’t so entirely fattening… (Thank-you Wilde Rover of Kirkland!)

Homemade pasta with a pickled artichoke heart and red pepper rose sauce… (I gained a few pounds reliving this one…)

Seared scallops over green beans, layered with a fresh pickled pineapple salsa… Speechless… Love it when my roommate cooks!!!

Antipasto, olives, relish, pickled jalapenos… good ole’ McD’s cheeseburger with extra pickles…it’s been quite the month which leads me to today… Day 60.

Incredible, 60 days of pickles… and lists. Lists of pickles, and the memories that go along with as I flip through my daybook taking a moment to commemorate 60 days of the Pickle and the feat of making it this far without hating them. Yes, 60 day increments are good. And without the invariable list to track all this pickle goodness, it would be lost except for the fleeting moments which pass altogether, too quickly to truly appreciate.

Let’s see what’s next, shall we?!

Day 24: "Trying Not to scare people away" Appetizer!

March 2, 2011

There is nothing quite so good as amazing food and great friends… and of course Pickles.


Today’s quest was a ‘Wow-Factor’ appetizer which wouldn’t scare people off. Enter Stuffed Cherry Tomatoes! However, as I seem to be scaring a few people off lately… I played it safe and did one pickle piece for me and a tray without the pickles which turned out absolutely brilliant. The pickle piece was incredible though… simply divine!

Stuffed Cherry Tomatoes
 4 oz plain chevre
6 oz cream cheese
3 cloves crushed garlic
2 tbsp olive oil
¼ - ½ cup heavy cream (add until smooth and creamy)
3 tbsp fresh lemon juice
Salt to taste
¼ cup chopped fresh basil
¼ cup chopped pickles… Optional

2 lbs cherry tomatoes, caps off and seeded

Mix all ingredients together until whipped and creamy. Adjust to taste. Fill gutless tomatoes and pop on the tops. Drizzle with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

deLISH!

...and now I neeed a kitchen for my next project: Sauerkraut Chocolate Cake.

Day 14 - 23: Packing, Pizza & Perspective - 1000 Miles of Pickles.

February 20 – March 1: Seattle to Calgary and back!

Suffice it to say that the last 2 weeks have been utter madness, capped off by a week of productive insanity. To have accomplished and survived it has been a rollercoaster of emotion, not done on my own strength and reflecting on the gamut of emotion run… I’m still amazed with the people I’m privileged to have in my life supporting, encouraging, loving and making me laugh through it all.

Last Sunday Chel and I drove to Sequim to visit her family and have an Ocean Fix… the first one since being out here which was so nice, but between almost missing the ferry home and having to pack once I was, it was a full day to say the least – almost forgot the pickle so felt like cheating by eating one out of the jar… little did I know this would be the formula over the next week.

Monday, lil’ Bean was all ready to go and drove the 12 hours back to Calgary and through the ensuing week packed and sold all but 10 or so boxes of my material possessions, the remaining sole contents of my life.

It was 7 days crammed with visiting friends, house ‘dance’ party, Ducky’s karaoke night, dinner party, cleaning, ‘baby-time’ with my little niece, a wonderful spiritual boost, got silly after wine, pickles, pizza & mustachio mask, packed my little car and drove back the following Monday with my roommate, who flew out to help me, in the most incredibly insane 17+ hour trip through the worst snow storm I’ve driven in, ever! Adrenaline rushes are cool for a few minutes, however, doses exceeding 11 hours is not recommended!!! Mountain passes, chains, white out, no road… all on less than 5 hours of sleep each night.

I think the most amazing part of this entire week is that I only missed 1 day of pickles and only because we arrived too late back in Seattle... missed it by minutes even though it would have been a ‘jar-pickle-cheat!!

Highlights:
Bick’s are one of the more popular brands out there and generally good… but “Bick’s Mini-Crunch’ems Definitely Dill Pickles” do NOT taste good with Peanut Butter – (thank you adventurous friends I do hope I haven’t scarred you for life… your faces were priceless however!!) I’m going to be so bold as to say that these really don’t go well with anything or even by themselves.  (Sorry Bick’s… this is a pickle fail)

Late-night pickles with pizza, hot wings and sauce dipped in ranch dressing – pretty good. Spicy, tangy, creamy… WIN, (not so much the pizza as much as the wings), especially washed down with wine!

As much fun and as challenging as this has all been, I managed to lose sight of the simplicity of the pickle, and how when balanced correctly the perfection that is created by it. Something Chel said earlier to me finally clicked as I was eating a midnight hamburger after an evening at Ducky’s with friends. “Rather than having a ‘pickle meal’ use it as an accent…” Well finally this made sense and all because of this simple little hamburger.

I managed to forgot how good just a little tasted… how just enough of a hint of something adds to the whole in unimaginable ways bringing all these other flavors together turning the tongue into a pinball machine of taste… how it morphs each bite into something different and new, in stunning perfection.

But it’s taken until today for the greater part of that lesson to sink in… perhaps because I’ve finally had time to think and sleep. But overly focusing on any one thing blinds out everything around it even if it is amazing in and of itself. You miss the best parts when overdosed, be it people, places, or things and it loses the specialness of what it is. It’s not so much the piece itself but how that piece fits into the whole that makes it special, allowing it to shine…

One last day of cucumber pickles left and then onto vegetables!

Day 13: Blushing Pickles... Oy...

February 19 – After movie drinks with friends

There is nothing more embarrassing than trying to hide the fact that you’re eating a pickle with an oreo cookie in the middle of a group of people, and specifically one you’re not sure, but sorta think you might have a crush on, and then consequently trying to explain what exactly you’re doing without sounding crazy cause' honey you already Lookin' crazy…

Epic.