Wine, Women, and a Coney Dog

When my parents were first married, according to my mother who loved to tell this story, my dad gave her a list of things he could not possibly eat.  The list included spaghetti, chili, anything spicy, and anything containing tomato sauce amongst other things.  The truth was that he was just used to blander fare.  His mother was of German or Polish ancestry, (depending on which relative you believe), and his father came from Ireland.  It was a meat and potatoes kind of household.  My mother abided by his rules for some time.  One morning, she decided to surprise him at the coffee shop he went to with his workmates daily.  It was she that was surprised when she saw his breakfast of two coney dogs, dripping with chili like you can only find in Detroit. From that day on, she vowed she would cook anything she wanted, and she did. She made chili, canned her own tomatoes for use in casseroles, and even canned her own spaghetti sauce.  My dad had thought that he would not like those things, but that was only because either he had never eaten them, or had them once and did not like them.  He loved my mom's chili, he loved Italian food, and in later years, even enjoyed tacos. 

 I rarely drink alcohol.  It is not that I am prude and I most certainly do not have any moral issues with it.  I just never really enjoyed the taste.  I will have a drink or two to be social, but truth be told, I would rather be drinking iced tea or lemonade. I usually choose drinks in which the taste of alcohol is not overly strong, like vodka and cranberry juice, a bloody Mary, or a mojito. If the drink of the night is wine, then I will choose a sweet white.  I just always assumed that it would be more palatable to me without ever investigating other possibilities.

A few weeks ago, I went to visit my sister in our home state of Michigan.  On my first day there, she listed off some places we could go.  One of the suggestions was visiting local farm stands and orchards.  That sounded like fun to me as there really are no farm stands or orchards near me in Texas and I love fresh produce where tomatoes actually taste like tomatoes and apples are crisp and flavorful instead of mealy and bland.  Little did I know at the time that farm stands and orchards is apparently a euphemism for wineries.  Yes, one of the wineries did have an orchard with peaches, but I think that was more of the exception rather than the rule. 

We visited four wineries that afternoon and most offered five tastings for five dollars.  One of the wineries also makes spirits, so their prices were slightly higher at $8 for 5 tastings.  Many either allowed patrons to keep their glass or they gave discounts on bottle purchases if you bought the tasting.  Even though we went on a weekday, there were several other people at each winery we went to. Visiting the wineries is obviously a popular tourist attraction as there is a bus company dedicated to it as well as a limo company that specializes in winery tours.   The clientele was overwhelming female.  There were a few male/female couples, but mostly it was groups of women.  One woman actually had a baby in a sling, which reminded me of that scene from Sweet Home Alabama where Reese Witherspoon greets a former classmate by saying, "You have a baby." (pause) "In a bar."

I learned many things at the wineries, one of the most interesting was that I actually prefer semi-dry wines, and I enjoy reds the best, but if I were going to go with a wine to sip throughout an evening, I would go with a white.  I could tell you more about what I learned, but I would probably sound pretentious and quite honestly, I know quite a few people who actually know a lot about wine and I would probably come off as foolish with limited knowledge gleaned from a slightly tipsy afternoon of tasting 12+ wines and one rum.  The one thing I will share is likely general knowledge but was new to me, and that was the expression of "legs".  I have seen oenophiles swirl their wine in a glass and talk about legs, but I had no idea what that meant.  When you swirl the wine and then stop, if the wine has sugar, it will make a vertical line or two down the inside of the glass as the wine swirl drips down to the liquid below.  These lines are called legs.  Dry wines do not typically make legs. 

Just like my dad thought he would not like my mom's spaghetti or chili, I did not think I would ever really like wine.  He was wrong and I was too. I had a great afternoon.  I tasted some wines I really liked, a few I most definitely did not, and I learned that my sweet tooth does not apply to wine.  If I had not tried something new and gotten out of my comfort zone, I would have never thought differently than I did before.  I think that lesson could apply to a lot of different aspects of life and I'm looking forward to exploring that more in the future. 

Always be learning!

 (The pictures above are my own.  The coney dog was actually my dinner during my layover at Detroit Metro.  It came from National Coney Island, which had fabulous dogs that snap when you bite into them and a killer Greek Salad. The vineyard is a pic from Round Barn which was the winery that also has a distillery.)

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

I have to admit I am a little in love with the idea of being self-sufficient or at least possessing the knowledge and know how to perform the tasks that most men used to know how to do. My dad was one of those men.  He could fix just about anything.  He knew how to make things with wood, how to paint and varnish, how to change a tire and the oil, he at one time owned a rifle for hunting, he knew how to ski, drive a boat, cook, build a fire, plant a garden, put in a wood floor, hang a ceiling fan, make a whiskey sour, and change out the cord on any electrical appliance. 

Many of the items on my 45 New Things list include basic Male 101 know how.  Being a woman though, and a self-proclaimed girly girl as a child, I did not learn any of those manly things in my childhood.  I have never so much even started a lawn mower, and quite honestly, I have no desire to ever learn that.  It is just a slippery slope that would end in me adding lawn care to my list of chores. 

Learning to shoot a gun made the top ten on my 45 New Things list.  I have always been frightened of firearms and did not see the purpose of owning a gun unless one is a hunter, a police officer, or in the military.  Still, I thought that this is an experience and skill that I would like to have in my back pocket, or holster as the case may be.  It was serendipity when a few weeks later, Groupon offered a beginning handgun class in my area. For $65, registrants would receive 2 hours of class time, 1 hour of shooting time, use of a gun, ammo, ear protection and eye protection.  It was exactly what I was looking for.

I was greeted in the parking lot by Dan, the instructor and owner of the business.  He shook my hand and welcomed me warmly.  There were only three of us in the class.  The other two participants Amy and Joann were about 10 years younger than myself.  They each had brought their very own guns.  Both mentioned that they were taking the class at their husbands' urging.  They had two toddlers each, and talked about the many guns their husbands owned. Frighteningly enough, Amy, asked what kind of gun safe should she and her husband buy.  Presently they did not have one, but not to worry, both her 3 and 5 year old know not to touch the guns.   Dan, outfitted in a NRA shirt naturally, warned her to get a safe immediately.  He explained that it was just boys' nature to look for the guns and touch them no matter how many times they have been told not to.

Since the majority of the class were no strangers to guns, the class shifted to more of a guns 102 class as opposed to 101.  I was a little lost on where the safety was on the handguns shown and how to know whether or not it was on. The field stripping portion, which means cleaning your gun, also went by too fast for me.  I think Dan assumed that since Amy and Joann's husbands were self proclaimed gun nuts, there was no need to go in depth as the men would likely clean the guns.  I listened carefully to the portion about proper gun handling, always point it away from you and other people even if you think it is unloaded, never touch the trigger unless you mean to shoot, and keep it on its side while you handle it.   He informed us of the Castle Law in Texas which allows any citizen to keep a gun without a license in any structure that could constitute a domicile, such as a home, car, camper, or tent.  Dan had one of those smooth Texas cowboy accents, and I found myself mesmerized by his stories and views on the right to bear arms.

Before I knew it, it was time to practice our stances with unloaded weapons.  Amy and Joann aced the exercise with flying colors.  Having never held a gun before, I was a virgin in need of guidance.  I have a feeling ol' Dan was getting a bit annoyed with me, as he kept repeating, "Even up your feet, bend a little at the waist, press with your right hand and pull with your left."  This continued out at the range.  The fact of the matter was, I shot just as well, if not better than the other two students, so perhaps my form sucked, but rest assured, I can get the job done as my target shows.  

We shot .22 handguns which I really liked.  They were not very loud and did not have much recoil. I had worried that the force of shooting would knock me on my ass, but that did not happen.  I shot an old school looking revolver, which was fun, but heavy.  I tried a .38, but I did not like that at all.  The shell casings kept flying out at me.  One even went down my shirt and burnt me.  I still have a bit of scar from it, which I am quite proud of.  Dan unholstered his personal gun for me to try, but that was way too much gun for me and after two shots, I declined to shoot it further. 

Shooting the .22 was a lot of fun.  I would love to have one just for target practice.  Dan advised not keeping one for home protection due to the lack of stopping power.  Stopping power refers to the ability to injure a person to the point that they are stopped from attacking you. He said a person should choose the biggest gun and largest caliber that they can comfortably shoot.  He went on to say that when choosing ammunition, hollow point is better than full metal jacket because hollow point decreases collateral damage to walls and innocent person's on the other side of a wall, whereas full metal jacket bullets can go straight through a person and hit an unintended target. A hollow point is designed to stay in the body and cause extensive damage to tissue. 

I know the world can be a scary and unsafe place, but I am not sure that we are all in such peril that we need to arm ourselves with guns and cop killer bullets. I have always been of the opinion that the 2nd Amendment applied more to arming a militia and not private citizens.  Still, shooting a gun although scary, was powerful and I was proud of myself for facing a fear and proud of how well I shot.  I don't think I will ever feel comfortable carrying one for protection, but it is good to know that I know how to shoot one if the s**t ever hits the fan.

Adding a Little Spice to My Life Indian Style

Last Thursday I attended a two hour seminar at our local library about cooking with Indian spice for health.  The class started at 6:30 PM. Can I just digress a moment to say how much I hate the now commonplace 6:30 PM start times for meetings and school events?  To me, that falls within the dinner hour and I always find myself racing to get to where I need to be on time.  Whatever happened to the more reasonable 7:00 PM? Enough of my tangents though, let's get back to the spice.

Our library sits in the heart of downtown.  There is some street parking, a small lot in the rear, and then a very tiny public lot about a block away.  When I pulled up at 6:27, every spot was taken.  I had to park on a seedy residential street about three blocks away.  As I approached, I noticed a number of women, in the 55-65 age range, walking in pairs to the library.  Surely, I thought, not all of these women are going to the Indian Spice seminar. Upon walking into the small conference room, I realized they were and from the looks of things, free library seminars constitute a girl's night out for the AARP set.  There were a few dutiful husbands scattered about, and strangely enough, three very pregnant women in the room of about 60 people total.
 
Our instructor was careful to preface her talk by saying she is not a professional chef and not a doctor.  She is a librarian from India.  She said she noticed that although Americans will cook spaghetti or make a stir fry, most do not cook any Indian dishes.  She said that it is because many Americans feel intimidated by Indian spices.  She assured us that it is not hard at all.   She cited the book Six Spices by Neeta Saluja.  In the book, the author shows how you can cook authentic Indian food by just using six spices. 

The librarian then passed around her dabba, which is the stainless steel spice box you see on the cover.  She said that most Indians do not have a spice cabinet, but they have a dabba that contains all the spices they need.  The six spices are: cumin, coriander, turmeric, mustard seed, red chili, and asafetida.  You have likely heard of all of those with the exception of asafetida.  Notice the root word in there, fetid? Well, coincidentally asafetida is also known by another nick name, devil's dung.  When raw, to put it bluntly, it smells like ass. Honestly.  However when cooked, it has a mild onion or garlic flavor.  It is often used in bean dishes and ironically helps with digestion.  It can treat flatulence and has been found in studies to be helpful with symptoms of IBS. 

Our instructor then went on to tell us the many health benefits that can be obtained by using these spices.  She cited Healing Spices  by Bharat Aggarwal who has researched the effects of several spices and has even given presentations at M.D. Anderson in Houston, one of the leading hospitals for cancer treatment.  The superstar of spices is the brightly colored turmeric which according to Aggarwal, has been shown to shrink tumors. Cumin is good for diabetes and controlling blood sugars. Red chili increases metabolism and is a proven pain killer. Mustard seed is helpful for heart disease. Coriander can aid digestion and insomnia. 


The spices are never added in at the end, nor are they added in dry.  In order for them to be at their most pungent, they must first be added to oil.  Vegetable oil, such as canola, coconut, or peanut oil is heated.  Sometimes ghee, which is clarified butter, is used.  The first spice to go in is always mustard seed.  It will splatter and pop and once it dances around the pan, the other spices may be added in one by one.  As a rule, whole spices are added before ground spices.  The librarian also mentioned that there is a trinity of Indian cooking which is onion, garlic, ginger.  Many dishes have that combination of flavors. 

She also mentioned garam masala.  Garam masala is a custom mix of spices. It is not the American curry powder, which she assured us is not at all Indian. According to her, each family has their own recipe for garam masala.  As an example, she passed around garam masala from two of her friends as well as a commercially prepared packet.  They all smelled markedly different from one another.  A traditional garam masala will have some or all of the following spices in varying degrees: coriander seed, cumin seed, caraway seed, black peppercorns, cardamom seeds, cinnamon stick, whole nutmeg, and whole cloves.  These are finally ground and the powder is used to flavor dishes. 


I was anxious to get home and try cooking with these new found flavors, when I realized, I had no idea how Indian food is supposed to taste or look.  I have never tried it myself.  The librarian had told us that there was a good Indian restaurant in our town and that the owners also owned an Indian grocery where we could find all the ingredients we needed to make our own dishes.  On Saturday, the man and I ordered some take out for lunch.  He has had Indian food before and knew he liked the lamb curry.  I chose chicken curry.  It came with rice, lentil soup, naan, (Indian flat bread), a vegetable and dessert.  We added an order of samosas too.  Samosas are essentially Indian empanadas, usually stuffed with potatoes and peas. 

I want to tell you how good it was and how much I loved it.  I just can't do it though.  The samosas were nice.  I enjoyed the lentil soup and the naan, but I just didn't care for the taste of chicken curry and the vegetables.  It had nothing to do with how well it was prepared; the flavors were not pleasing to my palate.  I wanted to like it, I really did.  It just was not my cup of tea.  The man's lamb curry had the taste of the sweet spices of garam masala.  I found that to be more to my liking.

I have not given up on the idea of cooking an Indian themed dinner one night soon.  I even went out and got some of the spices from the bulk food section at the grocery store.  I'm wondering if I keep trying it, the flavors will grow on me over time.  My next step is to find some recipes to try and sort of wade in the shallow section of Indian food first before taking on some of the more stronger flavors. 

 Namaste!  And always be open to learning something new!


 

Weighty Matters

For those of you that know me well, you know that I am better known for my homemade jams than I am my athletic prowess.  To put it frankly, I sucked at any and all team sports.  I have been known to make a basket from the free throw line, if the hoop is low enough and I have been successful in getting a tennis ball over the net, but I have never been able to catch a ball using a mitt. Not once.  I was slightly famous in my freshman year of high school for breaking the bamboo high jump bar by landing on it in my failed attempt at jumping.  (They had to use a jump rope thereafter.) When I was up to bat in kickball, everyone moved way in as they knew my only chance to get on base would be a bunt. I never made it on base. 

Suffice it to say, athletics were not my thing.  Coupled with my lack of ability, the fact that I was a very girly girl who did not like to get hot and sweat did not help either.  When I was a child, being told to weed the garden during summer was torture for me.  I hated getting hot and dirty.  I never really outgrew that. However, after two kids and 40+ years of eating whatever I want, when I want, and as much as I want, my indulgent choices have affected my waistline.  When I saw myself in a video for work in May, I looked pregnant. I knew I needed to make a change.  I like food, and I like being able to eat whatever I want, so now I am trying moderation.  It is a battle for me, to say the least.  Changing my eating habits is not enough though according to my scale and the fit of my pants. Now I have turned to the dreaded exercise to help me reach my goal. 


The first step was joining a gym. I chose one that was highly reviewed on Yelp, a short distance from home, and had a really reasonable rate. Included in the membership was free personal training. I went a few times on my own at first before I got the nerve to inquire about the training.  My trainer was a very polite and helpful older gentleman who looked like he was probably former military and likely a coach.  He put me at ease right away and took the time to find out my goals and target areas.  He walked me through the machines that he thought would help me most. He wrote down all the settings that I needed for each machine and had me try 15 reps on each so that I would know how it was supposed to work and feel.  I thought I would feel embarrassed because I knew so little walking in, but he did not make me feel that way at all.  


Today I was on my own and did twenty minutes of cardio on the treadmill, and 40 minutes on the weight resistance machines.  I am a pro at the treadmill as it was the only machine I had used before walking in the door.  Just a few days ago, I was too intimidated to try anything else, and today, I used not only the treadmill, but machines for my abs, arms, legs and back. I even tried one that the trainer did not show me. Surprisingly, I have to say that I did not hate it. It is too soon to say if I like it or it will become a habit to go to the gym.  I can say that it does not entirely suck and despite the soreness in my arms, it kind of feels good. 


Tonight I have the Indian Spice class and next week I have a beginner pistol class.  That's right folks. LostinTexasMama will be a pistol packing mama next Tuesday.  I have always wanted to shoot a gun, but was a little intimidated by them.  When in Texas though, do as the Texans do. 

Baby Steps to a Brand New Me

I just shared my blog on Facebook and I'm a little nervous.  To me, this is a big, huge, ginormous new thing.  I live my life on the down-low.  I do not share much of anything with anybody.  It is part of being shy and it is part of a worry that people will judge me and find me lacking.  This is a monumental step for me.  


I have another new thing that I am working on.  I recently joined a gym and am actually going unlike all the other times I joined a gym.  Right now, I am on my way out the door to meet with a personal trainer to learn how to incorporate weights in my workout. I have never lifted a weight in my life. Wish me luck! 

Foiled Again!

Well, it seems as though I am off to a rocky start.  This week I was to attend a crocheting class at Joann Fabrics.  The night before, I received a phone call from the education coordinator who said they had to cancel as the teacher decided to go out of town at the last minute.  She said she would call back once she was able to set up a new date, but I haven't heard anything back yet. 

I was really looking forward to this class as I had high hopes crocheting would suit me better than knitting.  I love the idea of knitting though.  I imagined myself as one of those chic granola moms sitting on a park bench, needles click clacking away, a growing swatch of a future sweater between, while my children ran and played.  I thought about spending my lunch hour, (really, it's only 30 minutes), knitting away on some project and I would be known as crafty, or even Mini Martha. I could knit all my co-workers hats in their favorite colors for Christmas!  Maybe I could knit small toys that I could sell at the Farmer's Market!  (In my fantasy life, I have unlimited amounts of time and energy and the things I create actually come out as I intended.  Not so much in real life.) 


Alas, knitting is just not my thing, or at least the 2 hour introductory course at Joann's was not enough for me to truly get it. I can start with 12 stitches across the first row I have knitted, then have 10 the next row and 14 the row after. (All the rows are supposed to have the same number of stitches across.)  What was a little unnerving was the very precocious 8 year old boy that took the class with me and two other women.  He got it right away, and then with all the pride and ego of the young, proceeded to tell us how easy it was.  So easy!  Meanwhile the instructor was torn between the three of us who didn't get it, and she would take turns tearing out our feeble efforts and starting it over for us. Is it wrong to despise a child?  I live in Texas though where when a child lacks manners or is just plain annoying, we say things like, "Bless his heart! That sweet boy certainly is a spirited one!" 


I've attempted a few simple crochet stitches on my own from The Complete Idiot's Guide to Knitting and Crochet.  Unfortunately, I seem to be both a literal and visual learner.  One discipline is not enough for me.  I need to see in action what I have just read and the little black and white drawings in the book do not suffice.  Does this make me something more than an idiot?  I don't think I like the implication of that! 


Hopefully I will hear back soon from Joann's.  I am still a bit in love with the idea of homemade gifts for Christmas, but then I wonder what it will be like to see everyone at work with matching hats one cold day or worse, to never see anyone wearing their hats despite the cold weather.  


Next week, I will be attending an Indian spice class.  I am very excited about this one! When I first moved to Texas, I volunteered and later worked in the school lunchroom.  In our area, there is a high Indian population.  Some of the Indian students would bring these amazing little tins filled with all sorts of mysterious delicacies. I have really been wanting to learn how to prepare authentic Indian cuisine ever since.  Every place we have lived thus far has aided me in adding another type of cuisine or cooking method to my repertoire and I can't wait to add one more!

                                                           Always be learning! 

Not the New Thing I Expected

I was so excited about writing this blog. I even attended my first class, knitting, and was prepared to write about it once I practiced my new found skill for a week.  Life and crime got in the way instead. 

A few weeks ago, I attended the parent watch night at my son's swim lesson held at an area park.  I locked my purse in the car as I was going into the pool area and would not need it.  When we came out an hour later, we saw shards of glass twinkling on the ground around the car. My window had been shattered and my purse stolen.  

I called the police and made a report.  Later, I spent another two hours on the phone with banks, credit card companies, and even the library to cancel my cards and have new ones sent.  I went out the next day to have the window repaired and obtain a new driver's license.  I thought that was the end of it. 

A week and a half later, I was contacted by a bank at which I do not have an account.  The bank was 3 hours away from where I live.  The manager stated that someone had come in impersonating one of their customers with one of my checks and attempted to cash it.  The teller confiscated check and called the authorities. The perpetrator fled in a car with dealer plates.  The bank employees were not able to get a plate number. 

A few days later, I checked my bank account to see if my paycheck had been deposited.  It had, but there was also another mysterious deposit and debit.  I contacted the bank and they assured me it was merely teller error and would "fall off" overnight.  The next day, the transaction was no longer there.  The day after that though, I awoke to find my account overdrawn by over $4000.  

Apparently, from what I have learned from the bank, a woman with my stolen driver's license entered 5 different branches of my bank over a 2 day period.  She had checks stolen from a third person, made out to me.  Each of the checks were over $1000. She had written "auto repairs" or "bridal shower" on the memo line of each. She had no problem obtaining the cash each time.  She did not even have my account number, as the checks that were stolen from me were from another account at another bank.  She had my debit card though from this bank, which is how she knew I had an account there. 

The bank, upon realizing days later that this was a case of fraud, debited my account for all of the fraudulent transactions.  Not only was I debited the amount written on each check, but non-sufficient funds fees as well.  For over a week now, I've been told by various bank employees that this is most certainly a case of fraud and they will rectify the matter by bringing my account current just as soon as the claim is processed.  My account is still overdrawn though.  I receive daily emails from the bank about my overdrawn status.  Yesterday, I received a letter in the mail stating my account had been closed because I failed to comply with the terms and conditions of my account.  Today I was called in to my branch to complete an affidavit proclaiming my innocence. 

Yes, I am very angry at the person who stole my purse and later my identity, but now I am even angrier at the bank.  Each of those five tellers at 5 different branches did not check the ID or signatures of the person cashing the check.  If they had, they could have put a stop to this fraud.  After the first transaction was made, of which I am sure there was a record, why was this person allowed to continue to jaunt from branch to branch cashing high value checks on the same day?  Didn't that raise any red flags for anyone?  Does no one check ID anymore?  What about matching signatures?  Are we so afraid of pissing someone off by questioning their identity that in the interest of good customer service, we let people go without scrutiny?  Her signature looks absolutely nothing like mine and even I can tell that the person who signed the checks was the very same person who wrote the check. Her handwriting is bubbly school-girlish.  Mine is a mixture of spiky printing and slanted haphazard cursive. 

I have learned some valuable things from this ordeal though that I would like to share.  Number 1, carry your purse or wallet with you everywhere even if it is inconvenient.  A locked car is not a deterrent.  Number 2, if your wallet is stolen, close your account at your bank and open a new account at a new bank.  (My thief did not know my account number, but knew I banked with my bank from my debit card.  All she needed was my ID to access the account.)  Number 3, contact the big three credit reporting agencies to put a fraud alert on your credit.  Anytime anyone tries to apply for credit in your name, the creditor will be alerted of the fraud alert, you will be contacted to verify that it is in fact you seeking the credit. Number 4, check activity on your accounts daily afterwards.  Lastly, and I am struggling with this one at the moment, once you have done all that you can do protect your credit and financial information, realize that is all you can do. Fretting and worrying about the situation helps no one and only hurts you. 

I wanted all my blog pieces to be funny and positive, but sometimes life gets in the way of the best laid plans.  I will write again soon returning to my original premise of finding yourself and finding joy in learning new things.  I have some great ideas of things to try and write about.  Remember, even if life hands you something unexpected and unwanted, you can still learn from it.  

                   Always be learning

On June 4th, 2012, I updated my Facebook status declaring that this, the summer of 2012, was the summer of learning new things.  I had signed the girl child up for cake decorating lessons, art classes, and violin lessons.  The boy child was registered for swim, and I began investigating archery lessons, and a camp where students would make a stop motion Lego video.  I even got  into the act and signed myself up for knit and crochet classes. 


I started to fall in love with the idea of learning or trying something new at least once a week.  I made a list of 45 things that I would like to learn, try, or experience.  Why 45?  I guess because I am turning 44 this year and I wanted to learn something new for each year of my life, plus one to grow on.


My list is rather tame and maybe some would even find it boring.  I'm not looking to train for climbing Everest, sky dive, or swim the English Channel.  I just made a list of things that I always wanted to learn or try, but never seemed to have found the time in order to actually do it.  I plan to write at least one entry a week detailing my journey. I hope that in doing so, I actually stick with it, accomplish my entire list and perhaps even add more to it.  Maybe I can encourage other people to make their own list and try new things.  My goal is to ALWAYS BE LEARNING.