23rd New Thing ~ We're Gonna Need A Bigger Margarita

Most of the New Thing blog posts begin with me thinking,
"Oh, this post is going to be easy. Not much writing for this New Thing. Woo hoo!"  
This is immediately followed by the

*Happy Blog Dance!*

Don't get me wrong; it's not that I don't like the writing. I love the writing. But I'm behind.
And it's funny but it turns out that it's the writing that takes the most time, and often, the most energy and investment. I wouldn't have guessed this.

I would have thought it'd be the actual New-Thing-doing, the planning and prep for the New Things that would take the most time and involvement. But rarely has this been true.

Plus it's infuriatingly easy to let other parts of life crowd the writing right out of the center. Then it begins to feel like the 'telling' of the Things is an obligatory clerical task. The dreaded 'paperwork.' But the story telling is where my heart lives. So the posts are never as quick and snappy as I think they're going to be when I start the first sentence. By the second paragraph, my soul is pouring out.

In the end, I'm good with this.

However, it's also nice to have a little break and a bit less writing for a change. And I think I'm onto something with this particular New Thing post.

In this post, I'm counting on that picture-worth-a-thousand-words thing.

I've never eaten a raw oyster off the beach.

And honestly. My never having eaten an oyster off the beach? That was a specific and deliberate decision. You know those things that you intend to get to...someday? This was not one of those for me. 

Even so, I'd never done it. And it felt brave to try it. So I did. 

23rd New Thing Plan

#1 : Assemble essential tools: 

• Fat Tire Six-pack Bribe
• Margarita; on the rocks, no salt 
• Contraband cocktail forks 
• Lemon 
• Hot sauce.

#2 : Transfer essential tools down to the beach. 

#3 : Find an oyster.

#4 : Locate the hinge of the shell. Thank you, Oyster Expert.

#5 : Keep the oyster level so the liquid doesn't spill out. 

(I learned there is a 'top' and 'bottom' of an oyster. 

I had no idea. And don't quiz me on it later because I still have no idea.)

#6 : Insert oyster knife. 

#6 : INSERT oyster knife

"Do you want me to help get it started?"

"No! I want to do it myself...."

*Grunt, grumble, growl...*

#6 : INSERT....OYSTER....KNIFE!!

Finally. 

#7 : Twist the knife to pop the hinge 

#8: Use the blade to sever the muscle attached along the inside, then the shell should open easily.

Whew, that's done. 

Can opening an oyster be a New Thing? Because that was frickin' hard.

Turns out, oysters are fiercely determined to remain closed.

Ta da! 

Are you cheering? I said "Ta da!"

I'd like to have a little chat with the brave, clearly diagnosable and starving soul who very first looked at a raw oyster and said, "Wow, this looks tasty."

Do you see the size of this oyster? 

It's like the size of my palm. Bigger, even. 

All we could find were the big ones.

This felt like such a good idea when I first thought of it.

I originally imaged swallowing an oyster whole, like an oyster shooter. 

But this is way too big and my gag reflex kicks in just thinking about it. 

To make it more manageable, I cut it into thirds. 

At first thinking, with a cringe, "Eww, oyster internal organs." 

But then realize that oysters are pretty much one big internal organ.

Okay, oyster sliced and ready to consume.....

Stalling...

stalling...

 stalling....

Like a 5 year old, playing with her food....

delaying the inevitable.

Thinking, "This New Thing thing is over-rated! Can we be done now?"

Okay, ready?  

Here goes.....

#9: Swallow the raw oyster.

Psych!

Maybe I can't do this?

Too much nervous giggling.

I try slurping it up out of the shell but this does not work. 

And I don't want to tip the shell up and tilt my head back 

because all 3 sections will slide into my mouth. 

In which case, I'll throw up on the beach. 

An event that would not be a New Thing for me. 

(Tequila shots on Sunnyside Beach.....not my friend.)

Slurping sucks.

Give me one of those fancy forks.

Going, going....

Paralyzed with raw oyster in my mouth....

Raw, lukewarm, dissected, slimy mollusk parts sitting on my tongue....

# 9 : Swallow the raw oyster...

....Gulp

....Cringe

....Shudder!

#10 : Drink! Give me something to drink. Something strong. 

This time, tequila on the beach is my friend.

Okay, that was completely disgusting. 

1/3 of a New Thing doesn't feel bona fide. 

So I'll see if a little lemon squirt and Cholula makes it any better.

Better? 

Nope.   Still nasty. 

Really close to throwing up. 

A margarita has never tasted so good.

I'm such a light weight. It feels like I've swallowed a monumental amount of oyster flesh

but there's still at least a third of an oyster left. 

My accomplice shows off. Eating a few big daddy sized oysters. 

Each in one gulp. 

No dissecting. No shuddering. 

No margarita required. 

Yeah, whatever.

Then I spotted an oyster that was WAY more my size.

In the picture above, there are two oysters. 

The big, obvious, obnoxious, over-compensating one to the left.

And the petite, quiet, unassuming, nothing-to-prove one on the right.

This little bitty oyster feels like my chance to conduct the New Thing as I'd originally imaged. Swallowing raw oyster whole.

Go back to #6 : Insert oyster knife.

#6 : Insert oyster knife.

#6 : Insert oyster knife!! 

You know, you'd think these little, cutie pie oysters would be easier to open. 

But you'd be wrong.

Okay, got it! 

Now, a little lemon. Isn't it sweet, so tiny? 

This is going to be easy! 

Kneeling right here, I'll just lean back and....

...1...2....3.... 

...fall on my butt.

Third time is supposed to be a charm, but I'm just getting worse at this.
(Must be the Margarita.)

One more time.....

Okay, I think I need to be done now.
I'm a light-weight; it takes exactly one and one half cocktails before I'm saying some very interesting things.
Two drinks and I'm laying down with my eyes closed.

Alcohol is not a big part of my life, thank goodness. 

But it turned out to be a big part of this specific New Thing. Again, thank goodness. 

I couldn't have done it without the tequila. (Never said those words before.)

Time to stumble back up to the house. My reward await! 

Some New Things do not allow for much photo documentation, with this one I'm quite fortunate. 

And (as long as I don't die from some mollusk toxin) I'm quite grateful to my New Thing Nature Guide-slash- Photographer!

Here's a real question or two: 

The first oyster, I sliced into pieces. 

The second oyster, I popped open and slurped it down. So was is alive as I swallowed it? Was it alive inside me? Wiggling in there during the movie later? 

Can I count that as another New Thing? 

22nd New Thing ~ In All Her Glory (The Prelude)

"Have my nude portrait painted," was on the list from the start.
Not in a salacious, tawdry way. (Can I count using the word 'tawdry' in a blog post, as a New Thing?)

You know, not trashy, but instead like the great portraits you see hanging over the fireplace in period movies and television: Jane Eyre, The King's Speech, Emma, Gone With the Wind, Downton Abbey, Gilmore Girls. (Okay, maybe not like Gilmore Girls.)

A striking piece of art.

Or even better, a moving piece of art...you know? Like the portraits lining the wall of The Haunted Mansion at Disneyland. Too creepy? Okay.

In times past, to have her portrait painted, a woman would sit for repeated sessions, hours and hours in the same position. This is not a common practice anymore. It happens sometimes, painting a live subject, but mostly technology trumps the romantic old ways. The romantic, traditional, tedious, uncomfortable, excruciating old ways. Photography has become the primary and practical alternative to the long sessions of sitting.

I made a call to my preferred professional photographer/painter/print-maker/reluctant 3-D animator and most recently, Pierce College Art Student of the Year, Darcy.
(Three cheers for Darcy!!!)

"Will you paint my portrait?"
"Yes."

It was together, we agreed that "sitting" for the portrait was simply not going to work. Aside from my packed calendar, her full-load school schedule, her work, her family, my family, my work and the impossible task of trying to find five mutually-free moments, she doesn't have a studio. She paints in her kitchen. Not exactly the most private of settings. Someday very soon she'll have her own art studio but until then, sitting for the portrait in her kitchen just wasn't going to work. Unless I wanted "Naked in front of Darcy's family" as another New Thing.

Darcy and I started discussing, planning, strategizing back in September/October. When people asked what was on my list for potential New Things, among other items, I said "Having my nude portrait painted." I continued to insist, "I'm doing this." My nude portrait. Yep, that's on my list. Absolutely. Nude painting. But I kept not committing. I was beginning to wonder if maybe I was all talk. Not deciding where and how. Putting it off. Darcy brought it up regularly. She mentioned how she pictured a backdrop of antiques. Something classic and traditional looking. A castle or museum atmosphere. (Let me call my friend, the prince.) I wasn't sold. Feeling like I wanted to keep thinking on it. Shall we do it in the forest? Down on the beach? Inside? Out? But I remained non-committal, the easiest thing being indecision.

Then one day I was in the Bath tub on the Deck . The day was so pretty. For a slow and gentle soak outside. The light, the color of the sky, the tint of my skin, the water of the Sound, the sound of the water, the reflecting water in the white porcelain tub. It was incredible but bathing on the deck usually is. So, I decided that it made perfect sense. One of my favorite New Things so far, is my tub outside. The association is powerful and peaceful. An image I'd love to have in a portrait.

Darcy drove out one Saturday. We talked about what I visualized for the photos and we got started. She went down to the deck to get an idea of the lighting and angles. I climbed into my swimsuit and robe, while the tub filled with warm water. It was early March. Clear but with a winter chill in the air.
I stepped into the water and slipped out of my suit.
Darcy started taking pictures.
After a few shots, me posed naked in front of her, I asked,"Does this feel weird to you?" 
"No," she answered from behind her camera.
"Yeah, me either," I said. "But is it a little weird that it doesn't feel more weird?"
"Yeah, a little."

It really wasn't awkward at all. I think perhaps the water felt like a buffer between me and the camera. I may have felt a little less naked than I would have otherwise.

Later I mentioned to a few people what I'd done over the weekend. Of the three men I told, two of them asked, "Was the photographer a man or a woman?" 
"A woman," I said
"Oh, well that's not so bad."

Wait, what? It's somehow a less brave thing because I did it in front of a woman instead of a man? I don't think so! When was the last time you posed nude to be photographed by a friend? Isn't it much more common to do the nude photography thing with a spouse, a partner or lover?
This felt much more brave to me than the cliche, heat of passion (or whatever), snapping pictures of each other as a form of foreplay. Frankly.

Can you tell this idiotic question and asinine conclusion rather pissed me off?

I told Darcy that I didn't want to preview any of the shots as we took them. You know that habit with digital photography: snap a picture, look a the display, snap a picture, look at the display. I wanted to avoid the temptation to scrutinize and review every shot. Just keep clicking.

One hundred and sixty-one shots later, I pulled on my robe and we headed back up to the house.
It was a little startling...161 shots.

Back in the warmth of the kitchen, Darcy looked through her work. "They're beautiful," she said. We had other things to do with the remainder of the day. She loaded the pictures onto my hard drive.

I didn't look at them until later that evening.
Not because I didn't have the chance to look at them but because I didn't have the courage. At least, at first.
I was afraid.
But eventually curiosity won out, as it often does and I sat down with my computer in my lap.

The pictures was mesmerizing. I loved them. They were stark and bold and stunning. I looked through the entire collection, repeatedly. Of course, some were better than others. Shots with my eyes half closed. My lips in mid-sentence. A furrow in my brow. Hey, I was completely naked, give me a pass here!

While scrolling through the pictures, I watched for the best one for a portrait. For Darcy to paint. I watched and clicked through again. And again. But as lovely as I found them, I just couldn't see the portrait I'd imagined. There was just something about the tub as a back drop. Turns out that even when the tub is outdoors, it's not all that remarkable to be naked in a bath tub.

So begging Darcy's forgiveness, I asked if we could do another photo shoot. One with a different setting. With different energy.
And so with some spontaneous research and on the spot resourcefulness, we worked out the perfect indoor location and just a few miles away, a delightful outdoor location. In one day, we hit them both.

I'll not name the indoor location in this post. I need to verify that it's okay to identify publicly. I told her I'd show her how the pictures turned out first. I'll get back to you on that.

The outdoor location was Elise's garden. While away to a family wedding, she & Jack allowed Darcy and I free license. (Thank you, good friends!)

My New Thing intent is the portrait: a beautiful, unique and personal portrait to hang on my wall. It has never been about posting nude photos on the Internet.

Darcy finished school this week. Today, in fact. "Done and done," she announced. But as hard as she's worked, I think she's entitled to say, "Done and done and done and done and done!" 

When the portrait is complete, I'll upload the image here.
Until then, I'll post a couple peripheral, family-friendly, casual shots.....just because.

21st New Thing ~ Zoom, Zoom, Zoom

So, remember way back in July of last year, my 3rd New Thing.... AutoCross Ride-Along ..... let me confess something about that.

If I had known for one second, what I was Google-mapping my way out to that day, I would never have left my house. Seriously.

I'm not saying I wouldn't have done the ride-along, I would have. It was one of the most surprising, amazing experiences of my life. But if I'd had a glimpse of what it looked like before experiencing the thrill, I would never have been brave enough go.

Fortunately, for my scaredy-cat self, by the time I had a clear idea of what I was in for, it was too late to back out. I'm so grateful because it turned out to be completely exhilarating and terrifying, in a good way.

That being said..... (Did I mention that it was terrifying?) ...in general, I try to avoid terror, if I can help it. And as scary as it was riding along in those careening cars (and Toyota X-Runner), there was one thing that looked even more terrifying than riding Autocross.
Driving Autocross. Driving! It was truly all I could do to ride-along. I couldn't imagine being brave enough to drive. Now, prior to that day, if you'd have asked me, "Are you brave enough to drive on a closed track?" I'd have said, "Absolutely! Sounds like fun!"

But after seeing it? No. NOT on your life! Nope. No frickin' way. NO MOTHER F*#&@!$ WAY! And the more time that past since riding at Autocross, the more I knew that I knew that I knew, that I could never drive.

And so, at the end of my ride-along day, when Matt said, "You can come out for Novice School next year. Drive the course with an instructor in your car," you can imagine my surprise to I hear myself say, "Yeah, sure! I'd love that." I was lying through my teeth and I knew it. Under no circumstances would I be out there driving my car or anyone else's. Period.

I felt guilty telling him that 'Sure!' I'd come out to drive, when I knew for a fact that I wouldn't. I was so grateful that he made the amazing day possible, introducing me to his friends and fellow enthusiasts, setting me up to ride in some stunning cars with exceptionally generous drivers. Yet not guilty or grateful enough to just tell him the truth.

Plus an extra complication in my dishonesty, was that I work in the same department as Matt. I enjoy and appreciate Matt, I didn't want him to know how chicken I was. My strategy would have to be avoidance.

Avoidance is NOT my standard operating procedure. I'm more of a 'let's get this all out in the open' type. I believe avoidance is for wimps. Cowards.

In spite of this dogma, I decided that I'd just not bring it up at work. ("Coward!!") Telling myself that surely he'd forget all about it. (Denial!) I'd avoid ALL eye contact with him.... for the rest of my life. (Chicken shit!) I'd walk the other way when I saw him coming. Or, when I had to, nod in his general direction and just keep walking. Just keep walking. Walking faster. Walking, walking....

Then one day in February, just going about my business, I got an email from Matt, with a link to Autocross Novice School on Saturday, March 16th. Oh no, no, NO, NO. Not on your life. I opened and scanned the email, with mocking, maniacal laughter in my head. "Yeah, right!"

That avoidance shit never works. I knew better! Okay, new Plan! I jumped up and ran down the hall, catching Matt by the back door as he was leaving for the day.
"No Matt, this is too scary," I said, breathless, grabbing his arm
"What?" I may have startled him.
"Driving Autocross. I can't do it. Too scary."
"Oh no, you'll be fine," he said and out the door he went.

Oh no! Matt is impervious to the straight-forward yet scaredy-cat plea for mercy. Shit! NOW, what do I do?

I spent the next couple days trying to work it out in my head. "How do I get out of this gracefully? Even ungracefully, I don't care. Maybe I could fake a debilitating medical condition...coma, perhaps? Temporary paralysis? Worth a thought. Or could I work up the courage to actually try driving? NO, don't even consider it."

After a few days of ceaseless internal debate and self-flagellation, I decided that as frightened as I was, I'd forever regret if I didn't try this. "Okay, good! Right! This feels good. Just do it." I might make a complete Autocross ass of myself but I wouldn't have to live with being a coward. I would do the brave thing. So I swallowed hard, held my breath and filled out the online registration form. "This feels good. It's the best thing. If I'm going to give Autocross a try, novice school will be the best place to start, right? Yeah. It's gonna be great!!"  I clicked Submit. I was so proud of myself. Done and done. The registration form disappeared from my screen and was replaced by "Sorry. Registration is full."

"Praise the heavens! Hallelujah, let the angels rejoice! Thank you, God!" Saved from the jaws of public humiliation.

At work the next day, desperately wanting credit for trying, "Matt, I registered for Novice School but it's full. Dang, I'm on the wait list." (Have you seen the new doll? Meet Pathetic Barbie.)
He looked at me, "I told you that it fills up fast," Had he told me that? I genuinely don't remember him saying it, but our puny little brains work this way sometimes, hearing or not hearing what's most convenient for us.

A couple days before the event, Matt asked me if I'd heard anything about getting in. No, I hadn't. He told me to email Michelle (Novice Co-chair) and ask her where I was on the list, what my chances of getting in were. At 2:30 p.m. the day before the event, I emailed her asking how it looked and how I'd be notified if a spot did open up. Her reply was that it didn't look good. That she'd usually heard of any cancellations by now. "Sorry."

So, that was that. I felt I should celebrate my narrow escape but in reality I felt terrible. I'd put off registering out of fear and missed my chance. There was nothing to feel good about.

Resigned to living with the consequences of my cowardice (otherwise known as self-pity), I settled in for the rainy evening. Feeling small and ordinary, when an email alert popped up.
From Michelle: "It's your lucky day!" 

A new land speed record: mopey regret to full throttle panic in less than 3 seconds. But fortunately this panic was mixed with relief that I'd get my chance. Regret would have been WAY harder to live with than giving it my best shot, even if I ended up stumbling, fumbling all over myself.

"I've had a space open up and you are next on the list. I'm going to add you to the list and here are the details."

Here are the highlights of the information she sent:

Event Preparation 

To make your day a little less stressful here are some helpful tips to prepare. 

The day before the event:

• Empty your car: of all loose items before you get to the track, this would include, floor mats, clothes, bottles, garbage, etc. You will also be asked to remove your radar detectors, garage door openers etc once you are at the track.
• Check your car: Please top off the oil/water/tranny fluid and air up your tires to the recommended tire pressures. Come with at least 1/2 full gas tank. Your battery must be securely tied down (bungee cords are not a tie down)
• Pack: We will run the event regardless of weather. Please come prepared for any weather. When not driving you will be working, even in the rain. Please bring layers of clothing. Also bring a hat and sunscreen, there is no shade. Bring a tarp or plastic bin to put your items in, there is no shade or cover at Bremerton Motorsport Park.
• Sleep: A good night's sleep will help you have a good and productive day at the track.

You can also find the rulebook and novice handbook

at www.bscc.net in the info section; both of which are helpful documents.

Arriving at the track:

• Arrive no later than 7:30 am.
• Sign the event waiver - mandatory
• Unpack your car, removing all loose items
• Register (bring your valid driver's license, it will be checked)
• Prepare and get your vehicle teched (see rule book at bscc.net)
• Meet the instructors, volunteers and fellow participants
• Attend the Ground school and drivers meeting at 8:30 a.m.
• Relax and get ready for a day of great driving starting at 9 a.m. 

Loaner helmets will be available 

Also, we will be having an After-Event Social at Puerto Vallarta Mexican Restaurant (1599

SE Lund Ave, Port Orchard, WA). Come join us for dinner, drinks and chit-chat with your

fellow racers and car enthusiasts. 

The Good News: I was in. The Bad News: I only had a few hours of daylight to get my car ready for the next morning. My evening of regret became the mad dash of car preparation. 

As relieved as I was to get this chance, the advice in the email to 'get good sleep' and 'relax,' just made me laugh! I was so nervous. And I wasn't the only one. The adrenaline of the other novice drivers was palpable. Chatting with each other, anxiously. Chris and his little white Evo. Curt and his zippy green Miata. (This was how we first came to recognize each other, by car color and model.) We were worried about doing it wrong, missing gates and cones. Generally looking stupid. I was relieved to be in such good company. 

My first run was with Mileen as my instructor.  As we sat in grid, waiting for my turn, I was terrified. Mileen and I talked about how I wanted to be instructed. Did I need her to be subtle in her suggestions? A quiet tone? Or did I want her to be assertive and direct. "Be loud and be bossy," I told her. "Don't hold back." I respond well to direct, strong energy. We settled that.

I confess, the biggest part of my terror was driving in front of Matt. He's my co-worker. One of the good guys in my building. I did not want to make a complete fool of myself in front of him. "Matt, could you turn around and not watch?" Okay, I didn't really say that but I was tempted. 

Plus, I didn't want to embarrass him. Make him sorry that he'd introduced me to Autocross. I could just see him looking over his shoulder, pretending that he didn't know me, "Who is that crazy woman driving her car into the grass, sending the course workers leaping out of the way?" 

   

When I finally was up at the front, next in line, waiting for the GO sign, I said to Mileen, "Oh I hope Matt's not watching."

Then GO! and off we went. In seconds (I'm not saying how many...), we crossed the finish line. It was a complete blur. I was stoked. Adrenaline pumping. Heart pounding. I did it. Drove my first Autocross run. No cones mangled and stuck under my car. No injuries. WHOO HOO!
My first thought: "Where's Matt? Did he see that? I hope he saw me!" 

It was my first run, but I'm pretty sure the object is to get quite a bit closer to that standing cone. 

For goodness sake, you could fit a Mini-cooper between me and that cone! 

The cones on their sides are directional cones. Telling me what side of the standing cone to drive on. (In case you thought, I knocked them over.)

This is better. Yea, me!

You really want way more of a lean in your car as you corner.

I had three instructors through out the day: Mileen, Matt & Michelle. 

I also did extra ride-alongs with Michelle, Matt, Mike and Mark. 

(I didn't notice the alliteration at the time.)

Matt's truck!

Mileen! She's a great, patient and bossy instructor. 

(I think that might be her Dad, Mike's Mustang behind us.)

Michelle took me for a run in my first Mini-cooper.
It was a fun car! Just my size. 

I drove six runs. Plus riding in the Fun Runs! 

The rain and wind were off and on all day long!

I went out there knowing just Matt. (Well, Matt...along with Volvo Mark and Porsche Jordan from last summer.) But after the last run, knowing the other Novices as well. Each time a student climbed out of their car, their face glowed with excitement from beneath their helmet. Jittery with joy and nervous energy!! And the instructors smiling with their passion for Autocross. The collective exhilaration was palpable and great common ground.  

At the end of the day, I gave Curt a hard time about his slight detour from the intended course in his little green Mazda Miatta "Who was that I saw spin around twice out there?" He shook his head and talked about it with some regret in his tone. But I was having none of that.

"Okay," I said. "But I'm impressed. I know it's not the goal to spin out but when you go to sleep tonight you'll know that you went all out. You didn't play it safe or hold back."  

It's my understanding that the intent is to be just barely in control. Or maybe just barely out. Pushing hard up against the limits of your vehicle and your courage. If you're too controlled, it'll cost you time on the clock. I was pretty much in control each run. No surprise. I have a lot to learn. I did hit a few cones, trying to get closer each time. But I never spun or skidded. All three of my instructors kept yelling, I mean telling me "More gas, more gas, more gas! Faster. Go, go, go!" They hardly had to tell me to 'Brake,' at all.

During the Fun Runs at the end of the day, Mustang Mike, Mileen's dad asked, "Want me to show you what your car can do?"(Was this a trick question?)
"Sure," I said. And he showed me. He was the only person to spin out my car.

Matt took me for a run in my car as well. Taking only seconds to acquaint himself with my automatic/manual shift transmission, and going for the non-existent clutch only a couple times, as we inched forward in grid. Waiting our turn, he also fixed my clock to the correct time and taught me the nuances of my cruise control settings. Got to appreciate a guy who sits down and takes charge without waiting for permission. Now every time I use the cruise, which helps keep me from practicing Autocross technique on public roads, I say "Thanks, Matt."

I had about a three second debate with myself about whether it was cheating....claiming Driving Autocross as a New Thing. Maybe not even three seconds. I'm calling it! I had to work up some serious courage to try this. It definitely qualifies as a New Thing.

21st New Thing ~ Autocross Driver! 

Bremerton Sports Car Club

One thing about Autocross that seriously surprised me... riding is scarier than driving. Turns out I had my fear on backward. It hadn't occurred to me until I drove but it makes perfect sense. Driving, you have total control. You know your next move. Riding, you have no control. You have no idea if your driver will stop or turn in time. What they'll do next. If you ever decide to venture into Autocross, know that riding it far more frightening than driving. There's a life lesson, for ya! For me. "Drive your own car!"

It was a great day. I'm seriously proud of myself.  Next time I go out there, I'll let go even more. Actually allow myself to spin out of control. I get all giddy thinking about it. I know this is a long post but I am without apology. I could just keep writing about it except that I'm running out of superlatives. Autocross, I highly recommend it!

Important Post Script:

Both times I've been out to Auto Cross, I spent all my focus inside the cars. There was no time or energy for taking real pictures. I took a couple shots with my phone having deliberately left my camera at home. But my phone is the Fred Flintstone model. Chiseled out of flint; hence the name. Picture quality, not so great. So both times, I've depended on others for pictures of the day.

My deep thanks to Mark who knew I didn't have my camera but that I wanted shots of this event for the blog. He gave me permission to use his photos. Thanks Mark, for the pictures. I'm glad we finally got to finish our run from last summer.

20th New Thing ~ Bless Our Hearts

I sometimes use the expression, "Bless your heart." And I mean it. May your heart be blessed.

But, not long ago, talking to a friend, in reference to a mutual co-worker's eccentric and peculiar yet endearing ways, I said, "Bless his heart."
"Oh, don't be mean," he scolded me.
"Wait. What? I was blessing his heart. That's not mean!" I said.
"You aren't from the South, are you?" Was that a rhetorical question? Was that?
"No. Why? 'Bless your heart' is a mean thing to say in the South?"
"Yeah, kinda."
This didn't sound right to me. It's blessings, for Heaven's sake.

~

On the original draft of "50 New Thing Ideas," I wrote: 

"Host a Cocktail or Dinner Party."

I've thrown kid's birthday parties and family holiday parties. Bridal and Baby Showers. But somehow none of these events felt like real grown-up parties.

I've attended other people's 'Grown Up' parties but I've never hosted one myself. 

So which would it be...Dinner Party? Cocktail Party? Both?

I was undecided but not really worried about it. There's plenty of time. (Yeah, Barbie....you just keep telling yourself that....there's plenty of time.)

Then one day at work, while talking about the Grape Stomping (see 14th New Thing ) and the Wine Making (see  Is It Wine Yet?), Genius Teresa in Circulation (that's her official job title) said, 

"You should have a wine tasting with the wine you made."  

Lovely line-up!

Well, of course! Forget the Dinner or Cocktail party. I'm hosting a Wine Tasting. (I love when something becomes instantly clear like that.)


I am not really a wine person. Other than what I've learned from Frasier & Niles, what do I know about wine? This is where Wikipedia, About.com and other search engine results came to my rescue. It turned out to be interesting research. I was surprised.
These were the links I found most helpful and user-friendly:

• How To Host a Wine Tasting Party
• How To Taste Wines
• Wine and Food Matching
• Pairing Wine and Cheese

The week prior to the tasting, I spent my time checking out books and reading up, shopping for supplies and watching movies with wine as the main theme: A Good Year (Russell Crow, Baby!), Bottle Shock (A true story) and my personal favorite, French Kiss.

I had a small and select guest list of seven people. (I'd have had more but my home is also small and select, so there just wasn't room.)

The day of the tasting, I spent a lovely afternoon in preparation:

• Playing the soundtrack to Chocolat, 
• Gathering all my stemware ('all' two of them), 
• Lighting candles in every corners, 
• Laying out my fancy-nancy appetizer forks (that I did not steal from seafood restaurants)
• Slicing cheese and artisan bread

Messy, cozy beach house.

The guests carpooled. My Aunt Kay, her first time visiting my house, walked in and commanded, "We're packing you up and moving you out of here tonight. This is way too far."
"Welcome. Have a glass of wine," I replied.

After all guests arrived, I began with my carefully prepared Wine-Tasting Speech:
"Thank you for coming. I've done extensive research. There are very specific and preferred 'rules' for conducting a wine tasting. And we will not be following any of them." 

I outlined our casual approach:

• We'll be tasting 4 different red wines from 4 different wineries (and 4 different planets for all I know):
• Cabernet Sauvignon (Firefly Ridge - California) 
• Pinot Noir (Beringer - California) 
• Shiraz (Yellow Tail - Australian)
• Concord (14th New Thing - Lakebay)
• We'll judge each wine by four basic characteristics:
• Color
• Smell
• Appearance
• Taste 
• For Color, we'll hold the wine at a tilt over a white surface to clearly see the color of the wine. 
• Is it more transparent or opaque? Is it a purple red or a brick red? 
• For Smell, we'll use the Twirly-Swirly Sniff Maneuver.
• Swirling the wine does two things: brings air into the wine (aerate) and releases the fragrance of the wine. The better to smell you, my dear.
• For Appearance, after the Twirly-Swirling above, we'll watch for the 'legs' of the wine.
• My unofficial explanation of 'legs' is how the wine 'coats' or slides down the inside of the glass. Is it in streaks or more of a sheet? I read somewhere that some people assume that 'legs' are about the quality of the wine, but apparently it's more about the alcohol content. (Then the article started taking a mathematical turn, so I quit reading.)
• For Taste, we'll take a sip. 
• This is where things get a little wine-snobby for me. "Fruity, floral, oaky, smokey, nutty, butty, creamy, crispy, rich, light, sweet, dry, blah, blah, blah." 
• We'll make this optional but what I'm really looking forward to with the tasting is trying to slurp the wine to make that Silence of the Lambs Fava Bean sound effect. 
• Two additional notes:
• Swallowing is optional but driving impaired is not. Spittoon available.
• Scorecards are also available, and optional as well.

I pointed out the different types of tastings I'd read about:
Varietal tastings. Regional tastings. Price Point and"Big Eight" tasting, Vertical tasting. Horizontal tasting. I have no idea the difference. Vertical, you're standing up while you drink? Horizontal, you're lying down? I didn't say I understood them, just that I pointed them out.

I can't tell you exactly what type of tasting we were having except that it would be blind.

Each bottle was concealed and uncorked.

As the wine flowed, we spent time catching up. I took the opportunity to ask the expert.
"Jackie, in the South, is saying 'Bless your heart' a mean thing?" 
"Yeah, it can be," she said.
"So if you looked at me and said 'Bless your heart,' what would you really be saying?"
"You're an idiot but I love you anyway."

Okay, got it. Kind of like the phrase Ciara and I sometimes say to each other..."You're so pretty." I can definitely see "Bless your heart" coming in quite handy.

Before the type of each wine was revealed, we tried to guess what we were tasting.

Checking the COLOR.

Taking notes.

Ready, Set............................................................SWIRL!

Being relatively new to this wine thing, Jackie was a skeptic.
"Legs? I don't see any legs?"
"Oh Jackie, bless your heart," said Erin.

 

This was the best picture showing the 'legs' that I got that night. See, just along the top of the red? This wine (and myself)...just proof positive that good things come with short legs.  

We attempted the Fava Bean Slurping Sound.
"Oh no, I dribbled wine down my shirt."
"Oh look, you're right. Well bless your heart."

We tried to keep it a Vertical Tasting, although I think if Jackie had her way,
we'd have all been horizontal before it was over. The less we used the spittoon, the closer we got to horizontal. Funny how that works.

I can tell you in which order the concealed labels were poured and tasted. 

(Concord, Pinot Noir, Shiraz & Cabernet Sauvignon) 

What I can't tell you is how well we did at guessing which wine was which, before they were revealed. Bless my heart. Someone should have thought to write that down. 

Prior to the tasting, I assumed that the concord would taste noticeably different from the three store-bought wines. Not as smooth. Distinctly homemade. Harsh, perhaps? (We did stomp those grapes with our feet, after all.) But we were all surprised at how much we liked the Concord. Foot-stomping and all.  We all liked it. It was definitely stronger and more tart than the other three. But keep in mind it had only aged four or five months. A very young wine. And a significantly higher alcohol content than the others.

I've said for a long time that Cabernet Sauvignon is my favorite wine. I'm not completely positive where this came from but I do have a vague memory of my 40th Birthday, sitting on the outdoor balcony of E.R. Rogers Restaurant (God Rest Her Soul), overlooking the water and drinking a Dirty Mother for old time's sake, hearing someone at the next table order Cabernet Sauvignon. I liked the sound of the name...Cabernet Sauvignon. I just decided it was my favorite. Say it...."Cabernet Sauvignon." It's so fun. So french. And when I say it, my face makes this goofy expression with a little nose-crinkle and lip-curl at the end. I've enjoyed ordering it for years. Just for the name.


Hey Wine Snobs, don't judge me! If people can love a wine because of its snooty-bootie floral bouquet, I can love one because of how fun it is to say the name. Shut up.

Before we started, I'd have guessed that my order of preference would be...

1. Cabernet Sauvignon
2. Pinot Noir
3. Shiraz 
4. Concord

But instead, the cabbie was not the best. I'm as shocked as you are. The Shiraz tasted better and easily grabbed my First Place. The Pinot was my least. (In fact, I didn't like it at all.) The Cabernet and Concord were very close for second and third. This outcome was slightly disappointing as Shiraz will not be nearly as fun to order.

Kay's favorite was also the Shiraz. Erin like the Cabernet best. Ciara really preferred the Pinot Noir. Eph, I believe, chose the Concord. Jack, wouldn't commit. 

What I learned about the art and chemistry of food pairings came as a real surprise to me. 

There's a lot to read about Wine and Food Pairings. But we didn't really follow any strict recommendations.  I had some classic wine-friendly foods (according to the Internet) available on the table near by and let people pair as they chose.

Buffet included:
Artisan breads and crackers.
A variety of cheeses:
Sharp Cheddar, Provolone, Havarti, Goat and Baby Swiss.
Stone Ground mustard.
Walnuts. Figs.
Dark Chocolate.

I've always loved wine with cheese, crackers & bread. But I am not a walnut fan, at all. The research, however, suggested walnuts specifically with the heartier red wines. So I tried, and I loved them with the Cabernet.

I also really liked the stone ground mustard with sharp cheddar, crackers and the concord wine. All very strong flavors, they worked really well together. Not knowing one from the other, the mustard I happen to pick up was Inglehoffer Full Strength Stone Ground. Now, I find myself putting it on everything and wondering "Where have you been all my life?"


And figs. Who knew? I had never had figs before. At least figs, straight-up. (Meaning, not as the filling of a popular cookie.) I can't remember what possessed me, but I swiped some goat cheese on a fig and tried it with a sip of Shiraz. Holy crow. This might be my brand new favorite thing.

Turns out I was a wine/food pairing skeptic but I'm a believer now. It makes a huge difference. 

There were no white wines in the Official New Thing Wine Tasting, but Kay, in her default generosity, brought along a bottle of Chateau St. Michelle Chardonnay. Jackie felt very strongly that we should try it as well. "It would be rude not to!" Well, okay. If you insist.
And Jackie finally found her favorite, bless her heart. Good thing, we uncorked that one.

After the tasting,
we switched to dark roast coffee and chocolate ganache cake.

Apparently someone took a swipe of the frosting with her finger before anyone arrived. 

I don't know what you're talking about.

We had the best time. Hosting a Wine Tasting was a great New Thing! Even so, when it comes to wine, I don't like all the snobby, pretentious energy behind wine connoisseur-ship. I just want to enjoy the wine. Drink something that tastes good. I want to order a glass because of the cool winery name. Pick up a bottle because of its great, eye-catching label. Or, as I've already covered, how much fun it is simply saying the name.

I can love wine. Red wines and sparkling whites especially, without digging into why I like them. Whether the grapes were grown on the north or the west side of the valley. Whether it was a dry or a wet year. I have no tolerance for all that vintage foreplay people like to get into.



New Things sometimes hold a distinction all their own:

• Most profound? 
• #8 - September 11th Memorial
• Most frightening? 
• #3 - Riding Autocross
• Most messy? 
• #7 - Changing oil in my car
• Most smack-down with barnyard animals?  
• #11 - Sheep Wrangling

Most laughter?  #20 - Wine Tasting
We laughed until no sound escaped our lips. And at the top of our lungs. Eyes watering, stomach muscles aching, difficulty catching our breath. I can't remember the last time I laughed so hard. Oh wait...I can: with my family! One joke snowballing into the next. My favorite was the "Cabernet Savant" bit. There was also a good deal of "Bless your heart" going on in my house." It was glorious! 

I want  Exceptional Cousin Credit (it is so a real thing!) here for not posting the picture of Erin lapping the wine with her tongue as it's being poured into her glass. Bless her heart. I love you so much, Erin, that I won't even mention it here. That's just the kind of loyal person I am...

I've never hosted a Wine Tasting. And for the record, I've never even been to a wine tasting. When I think about how behind I am with the New Things & the blogging, I'm warning you now that I'm not above calling that a New Thing at the last hour. Not really, I'd never do such a thing. Probably.


As I'm writing now, it just dawned on me that I failed to pay attention to the year of each wine. Except for the 14th New Thing Label 2012 Concord. A very good year.

20th New Thing ~ Hosting a Wine Tasting

To you, my reader, I say in all sincerity, 

Bless Your Heart, 

(heavy on the love you part).