Saturday, April 26, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

Well, yesterday was our first full day with water! Hallelujah!

There are still holes in the ceiling with sawdust and wood chips everywhere. But I refuse to complain about that. The water is on!

And because it’s Saturday and there is currently no plumbing emergency, there are no plumbers on-site today and we are experiencing the blessed quiet. What relief!

My schedule is not very compatible with plumbers. I usually wake up at about 10 a.m. to start my freelance workday. (Don’t hate me — I don’t have kids yet, I know this won’t last.) For two weeks now I’ve been forcing myself to stay asleep in spite of all the racket that usually begins at 7 a.m.

Thursday morning was a bit more than I could take with a smile and an even temper, though. I was rousted from my bed just before 8 a.m. so that plumbers could saw holes in my bedroom ceiling and route pipes through. It would not have been so horrible if we had been warned ahead of time. But no one ever mentioned they’d need access to our bedroom, let alone at a time of day when I’m very actively using it.

I finally got to sleep in today. It gives me the feeling of life getting back on track, at least a little.

On the bright side, we were cheered by our neighbors across the courtyard this week. Mr. & Mrs. B brought us lunch one day: spinach pie with corn and potato kugel. Bless them twice! All I had to do was heat it in the oven in the aluminum foil it came in. I’ve been pushing hard to keep up with all of my freelance work in spite of the loud distractions and their special lunch delivery was a miracle to me.

The B’s are retired and since Eric and I work from home, we often get the chance to chat with them about what’s going on. And sometimes Mrs. B will drop by with some kitchen talk.

It’s nice to have good neighbors like this and it is one of the things I was looking for when we moved to Los Angeles — a neighborhood with people who interact with one another.

My grandparents had this type of neighborhood, and I practically grew up at their house. And ever since I finished college and moved out into the world, I have wanted to live in a place with good neighbors.

The B’s celebrated Passover last week and they attended a dinner at Mrs. B’s sister’s house. Mrs. B volunteered to bring the Potato Kugel. But she was missing one important thing: she does not have a food processor or other electric grinder to pulverize the potatoes.

Since I’m the only other cook, she was not surprised to find that out of 11 other apartments in the complex, I’m the only person with the appliance she needed.

So, she scheduled me — a month in advance! — to come over with my Kitchenaid stand mixer with food grinding attachments to grind all her potatoes and onions for the kugel. That was on Friday, April 18. It was a delight to help out and it was even better to get to sample the results. Simply delicious — and I will make it myself soon.

I was fortunate to get a copy of the recipe:

Mrs. B’s Potato Kugel

10 large baking potatoes
2 onions
6 eggs
2/3 cup matzo meal
3/4 cup vegetable oil
2 teaspoons salt
1/2 teaspoon pepper
1 teaspoon baking powder

1. Peel and slice the potatoes to fit into your food grinder chute (or, if you’re lucky, a 14-cup food processor — it’s faster). Process potatoes until ground. If they’re very watery, drain out the water using a strainer.

2. Peel and slice the onion into wedges to fit into your food grinder chute (or food processor). Process onions until ground.

3. Beat eggs in a large mixing bowl. Add all remaining ingredients, including potatoes and onions and mix well.

4. Preheat the oven to 400 degrees (Fahrenheit).

5. Liberally grease a 9″ x 13″ casserole or pan with vegetable oil and preheat the empty pan in the oven.

6. Once the pan is hot, spoon the potato kugel mixture into the hot pan. Bake a 400 degrees (Fahrenheit) for one hour until firm.

Posted in los angeles, balance, making do, recipes, cooking, attitudes, pie, sleep, love, freelance, miracle foods | 4 Comments »

Tuesday, March 25, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

Yesterday I spent nine hours editing Eric’s résumé.

Editing other people’s résumés is a special sort of hell. Because it takes a unique type of energy from me, a nurturing all-seeing eye combining the forces of empathy and sharp arrows. I interview and dig and coach and prod. I intuit, I guess, I try, and sometimes undo. I review and rewrite and reformat, squeeze, squeeze, squeeze.

Perhaps everyone’s résumé needs this kind of deep attention, but many cannot afford to pay what would be a fair price for the effort. And it’s a misery to be underpaid for grueling work. So I only do it for love, never money.

I spent a bit more time tweaking it this afternoon, and I’m at the point where I know it’s not Perfect but it is definitely Very Good. I think I can let it go out into the world.

But there’s always that bit of worry. If it’s not ready, not good enough, then tens of thousands of dollars could be riding on it, opportunities lost because of my choices and advice. Or maybe not. I possibly take it too hard. But I’ve got to treat all the details seriously, rabidly, just in case.

I like to be kept up to date when they go out: Did you get the job? Which one? Did they mention liking the resume? Congratulations! (*breathing out* Thank God it worked — they liked my baby!)

Argh. So you see why I can’t offer this type of skill as part of my for-profit business. It’s too much of an emotional roller coaster. And while being in business by yourself, for yourself (sole proprietor) naturally feels a bit personal at times, I try to keep my work emotions as steady as possible.

Still, it’s difficult to stay in balance all the time when offering services. Interesting opportunities arise and I have to accurately evaluate: Do I want that experience? And also, am I up to the challenge at this moment?

Timing is everything because the gauge on my creative reserves is fluctuating daily. All sorts of variables change how much of me is available for tackling new projects: Am I sleep-deprived? Did I just come off a doozy of an assignment that drained my brain completely? Do I have important appointments or errands this week or can I hunker down in my apartment and commit to working so deeply that I experience time loss?

If something sparkly and new has popped up in front of me, out of optimism I can commit to a project that I don’t have the energy reserves to complete with feelings of power and joy.

No one else knows when this happens to me because for some reason it does not show on the outside. Sometimes my husband cannot tell. I will seem perfectly fine and happy, my work output and performance will be top-notch as always. But I will no longer be having fun. I will not feel satisfied with my work, no matter how good it is. All I will feel is that I can’t wait for the project to be finished so I can run away and recharge before someone notices I am cracking up.

And of course, I know that not all work can be done while I ecstatically resonate energy with feelings of power and joy. But isn’t that a neat goal to shoot for? Isn’t the possibility of striving for happiness and satisfaction one of the big reasons that I face the many challenges of freelancing for a living?

When I catch myself feeling like everything is dire and I’m at the end of the rope holding the last knot with sweaty palms, I use a trick I call “Change Your Mind.”

To change my mind, I think of all the things that are wrong and list them (in my head or on paper). Recently the list looked like this:

• This short film shoot was supposed to be 5 days and we’re on day 14 now, with no set end date.
• The honorary token flat fee for this indie project currently amounts to just over $1 per hour and with each day gets lower still.
• I have to put off or turn away editing gigs until this film is completed and it irks me to be losing so much opportunity for making money.
• I’m worried that my editing clients will notice I’m gone and get gone themselves.
• No one is taking the time to explain to me what they need and why, so I can solve the problem quickly.
• This project is understaffed so we’ve all been sloppy at organizing the equipment which makes it impossible to find what I need.
• I’m afraid my work performance on this shoot is suffering because conditions are even tougher than usual.
• I’m hungry.
• I’m tired.
• I have cramps.

Then I take a deep breath and ask myself: “When you started this project, did you say yes for love or money?”

In this case, the answer was love.

My next question: “If you take your money worries out of the equation, can you still persevere and do a good job — for love — here?”

And the answer was yes.

My attitude changed in that moment. I felt better and realized I could make it through the hard circumstances because my original objective was still being met. I wanted to do the film for the experience, because it needed me, for love. My basic problem was really that my exhaustion caused me to feel horrible and it messed up my viewpoint. To be happy again I had to “change my mind” by reviewing my original motivations and realizing that I was achieving what I started out to.

Today I finished a resume for love. And after writing this, I finally feel satisfied with it because — even though it took much more time and effort than I had expected — I succeeded in what I set out to do.

Working for money is another story for another day . . .

Posted in dealings w/feelings, change your mind, attitudes, balance, editing, freelance, sleep, love, energy, film | 3 Comments »

Saturday, March 22, 2008 by Julie Cancio Harper.

A good rest for me is nine or ten hours and includes dreams I can remember when I wake up. Freelancing allows me to get this much sleep every few days. Call it my bonus for not having a long commute, or a trade-off for a lack of paid vacation.

I think of my dreams as belonging to groups or categories. For example, one group would be “recurring themes.”

I call another group “pacing” or “speed” dreams — these feature a lot of stuff that happens so quickly that I can’t get a grip on any narrative or story. I usually interpret speed dreams as messages that I’m afraid my life is going too fast (or too slow) and that I need to slow down (or speed up) to feel better.

I have “everyday” dreams where what I am doing and saying is very much like my real life. I have a conversation with my husband or I go get the mail. They reaffirm feelings of satisfaction, that the status quo is pretty good (for now).

Then there are the “metaphors,” which can be whole stories or short bursts of loaded images that I need to dissect when I wake up thinking, “Why on earth would I dream about THAT?” A big proportion of my dreams lately have been metaphors.

This week I dreamed of pies. Two specifically: pumpkin and an Amish-style oatmeal (like pecan pie but with oatmeal instead).

Why pies?

Pumpkin pie is by far my favorite pie. It means safety and comfort to me. And while I have not yet made or even tasted an Amish-style oatmeal pie, I have been reading and thinking about it for a long while, maybe years. I could taste it very clearly in the dream.

I have thought of baking both these pies more than once in recent months. It started back in September. I hosted a Pampered Chef cooking show when my dear friend Christina became a consultant. Because I wanted to try one of Pampered Chef’s well-reviewed stoneware baking dishes and because I have always loved pie, I bought the beautiful Deep Dish Pie Plate in Cranberry.

I LOVE this pie dish. It heats and bakes very evenly — better than any glass or metal pan I own. I have used it many times — for apple crisp, brownies, even a lovely lemon cake. I get better results than I expect with each new trial. But for some reason I have not gotten around to baking a pie in the pie dish.

No pie. This is strange because I am a pie enthusiast. I have a pie background. When I was 17, I spent an entire day picking sour cherries from my grandmother’s two trees, half a day pitting and preparing them, and the following two days baking cherry pies from scratch. I made 19. It was July in Ohio (humid), my mother’s house had no air conditioning, and the oil-based dough that made my favorite crust back then practically melted into each pan. It must have been 100 degrees (Fahrenheit) in the kitchen. The pies were lattice-topped and I crimped the edges pretty, too. No shirking.

Why have I not made pie?

I have meant to, and I certainly have the ingredients for both a pumpkin and an oatmeal pie. In the fall of 2006 I went to Costco and did a serious stock-up on canned pumpkin. And thanks to the oatmeal habit and my love of apple crisp, I keep both steel-cut and olde-fashioned oatmeal on hand as pantry staples.

I have lots of recipes to choose from because I seriously love cookbooks. I flip through them at night to help me relax. In preparation for testing the new pie pan, last fall I bought and read Pie by Ken Haedrich, which I adore for its depth and variety and think of as “The Pie Bible.”

I’ve recently been cooking from the earthy and homespun From Amish and Mennonite Kitchens by Phyllis Pellman Good and Rachel Thomas Pellman, and they have a perfect, simple oatmeal pie on page 220.

There appears to be no other reason for not baking pie besides irrational pie block. I think that I have both a literal and figurative need for pie. I am putting off pie for later when today and every day is a great day for pie.

This is definitely a metaphor dream. I think my pie block may have something to do with a wrong idea. And that wrong idea whispers in my ear: “You don’t have time.” Or: “You should be working.” Maybe even: “You don’t deserve it yet.”

But would baking a pie keep me from doing good work? No, I know it wouldn’t. Would joy contribute energy to the work in front of me, this week and month and year? Oh, yes.

This is why I need that sleep to pay attention to my dreams. Because without them I can mess up for a very long time — by not baking pie or by missing some other vital aspect of life. I never forget work and deadlines and clients and bills. But I do forget to nurture myself, sometimes for months.

I’ve got some correcting to do this weekend. I’ve got to go bake a pie.

Posted in pampered chef, balance, sleep, books, pie, dreams & dreaming, oatmeal habit | 4 Comments »