Less is more . . .
Category Archives: Around the Home

Cheese: It’s What’s for Dinner

by Holly

One of the drawbacks of going to yoga after work is that, by the time I get home it’s late. Like starting-with-a-9 late. If there are leftovers in the fridge, then I’m all set for dinner. Or if it’s a night that my adoring sidekick isn’t at hockey, then maybe we’ll cook something together. But more often than not, I’m left to fend for myself.

Cheese to the rescue!

I’ve come home ravenous on more than one occasion and chowed down on cheese and crackers while standing at the kitchen counter. It might fill me up, but it’s not satisfying. Harumph.

However, it only takes me a few minutes to put together a cheese plate—which always turns out to be infinitely more satisfying. Suddenly, my go-to snack is elevated to a new level of civility. (Plus, it’s much easier to be mindful of your portions when laying it all out on a plate.)

A few small wedges of whatever cheese you have on hand, some crackers or slices of baguette, and a couple dollops of sweet and savory condiments for jazzing things up—and you’re good to go. Don’t worry about what goes with what. Let your creativity (and taste buds) lead the way.

My most recent cheese plate for dinner included:

  • Gorgonzola dolce – a creamy, mild-mannered blue cheese with a smattering of green-ish veins
  • Monte Veronese latte intero – a mild, slightly nutty-tasting cheese. The tiny holes in the cheese give it a little “squeak.”
  • Parmesan – salty and crumbly, just the way I like it.
  • Currant jam – tart and runny and just the slightest bit sweet
  • Dandelion blossom honey –   thick, mild, and full of crystals. Pairs expertly with the gorgonzola dolce.
  • Onion-flavored taralli – seriously savory Italian crackers

If I had an open bottle of wine, I would have poured myself a glass. Instead, I opted for some bubbly water with a splash of black currant juice. (Bubbles of any sort pair nicely with thick, creamy cheeses like the gorgonzola dolce.)

Hungry? Short on time—but big on savoring your food? Grab a fork (the civilized way to attack a cheese plate) and dig in.

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© 2010 Good Karma HousekeepingBecause there’s nothing cheesy about eating cheese for dinner.


Theo Can’t Fly

by Holly

I’ve been carrying around this piece of pink paper for years. On it is a poem that I wrote in the hours between school and supper back in December 1981. I was in the second grade, and could entertain myself for hours with my pink doodle paper, markers, crayons, and imagination.

Trying to keep my lines straight was no small feat. I can remember writing out several versions, but my words just kept sloping down. Even still, I was quite proud of my creation. Especially sounding out all those big words. Like pueugeuns.

But carrying around this relic of my youth—one of my earliest writings—was getting to be burdensome. Every year or so, I’d come across it somewhere in our house—filed with invoices from the vet, tucked inside of a notebook, buried under blank notecards and address labels from the MSPCA—and think to myself, someday I should really do something with that.

Finally, in a mini decluttering spree a couple of weeks ago, I decided to take action. I brought it to the framers. I’m so happy with how it turned out! Now I just need to find somewhere to hang it . . .

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© 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because my walls are decidedly less cluttered than my drawers. 


Gone Gone Gone

by Holly

I finally did it. Something I’ve wanted to do for years—more years than I care to admit. I threw out that old box of tarnished, tangled, broken, and bent jewelry. Sounds simple, yes—but my decluttering self and my tree-hugging self have been at odds with one another for far too long, resulting in a whole lotta inaction, frustration, and even resentment. Ick!

For a brief moment, as all those itty bitty things settled into the pockets of space in the garbage, I felt guilty. (The planet! The garbage swirl! The earring-less women in the greater Boston area!) Moments later, that feeling morphed into liberation—and I went on a quick, 15-minute throw-away spree. I tossed my old metronome and tuner and oboe reed-making supplies. Bobby pins, safety pins, and all those plastic clips from the dry cleaner? Gone. That old keychain flashlight I carried in college? To the garbage. Even my favorite green fine-point pen that didn’t even have enough ink in it for me to scribble my first name was laid to rest—alongside the watermelon rinds and soiled parchment paper. I can’t wait to do it again tomorrow. And the next day. And the day after, too.

None of us are the sum of our possessions. They’re just things. But if the things that fill our homes are supposed to be a reflection of who we are and what we want out of life, then what does all that junk say about us?

Not every old item of mine is meant to have a second life. Sometimes, one person’s trash is just another person’s trash, too. I’m done with the guilt of holding on to decrepit and defunct stuff with the thought that somewhere there’s a person who is looking for exactly this crummy old thing. It’s just gotta go—even if it’s going to wind up in a landfill. Chalk it up to another life lesson about wants vs. needs. That less really is more. I repeat—for my benefit, and maybe yours, too:

Less is more.

The nicer, more meaningful things that I no longer have a need for—like my beloved cat’s old belongings or the butterfly candle holder my partner bought for me early on in our courtship? Now, that’s where good karma housekeeping comes into play.

“Clutter blocks success.”     

                                                                       –Christine Kane                     

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© 2010 Good Karma Housekeeping. Because less really is more–even when it comes to jewelry. (Photo by frerieke via Creative Commons.)


The Blind Spot in My Kitchen Cupboard

by Holly

peachessign

For as long as I can remember, Andrew and I have had a can of store-brand peaches in our cupboard. These peaches were so old that they predated our relationship. So old that the grocery store they came from had since changed its name–twice.  So old that “in heavy syrup” once had some appeal. If I had to guess, I’d say they were purchased around the same time that the Presidents of the United States of America were singing about the sweet orbs. In other words: these peaches had no right hanging out in our cupboard.

Growing up, I remember there being an ancient box of rice pudding in our pantry. “Nope, not that,” my mother would say when my brother and I were trolling around for something dessert worthy. That box dated back to their newlywed days. It was a relic–and so too would be our can of peaches if I hadn’t thrown them out this evening.

I had just finished watching Hoarders, a new show on A&E about people on the verge of crisis because of an inability to part with their belongings. One of the women featured had an inordinate amount of food in her home–most of it inproperly stored, forgotten about, and seriously spoiled. It turned my stomach just to watch. The whole time, I kept thinking about our peaches–envisioning the nastiness inside that can–and that they had to go. Now.

I pitched the peaches, can and all–my recycling feathers all a ruffle. To my suprise, I noticed a number of items in the cupboard that were past their prime. A can of tomato paste that was meant for a pasta fagioli recipe I last made in 2004. Three bags of slivered almonds best used by August 2008. More canned fruit. An imported can of Bachelors mushy peas. Raisins from our west coast road trip trail mix two years ago. One of my best friend’s half-used bag of lentils from 2006. All of it now in the trash.

I knew that some of these items were in our cupboard; others were a complete surprise–even though I’m in there daily. Huh. Makes me wonder: What else is lurking in all those other blind spots in our home? And what ever happened to the Presidents of the United States of America?

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© 2009
Good Karma Housekeeping. Making the space–mentally and physically–to live happily ever after (and eat more peaches of the non-canned variety).


Spinnin’ Spree

by Holly

It has only been two weeks, but I think I’m ready to announce that I am in love–with my salad spinner. I know, two weeks might seem a bit premature, but I’ve made enough salads in my life to know a quality gadget when I see it. The generously sized basket, the sturdy construction, its no-slip base. And oh, lest not I forget the ergonomic pump. This baby has more giddy-up than my boyfriend’s GTI. My greens are squeaky clean, even fluffy.

Sure, I’ve waxed poetic over other kitchen gadgets before. The bread machine. The rice steamer. The popcorn popper. The ice cream maker. I’ve long since given those space hogs away (well, not the ice cream maker). But this one’s different. Salads have never tasted so good. Not to mention, perfectly dried greens don’t require as much dressing. And did I mention just how much fun it is to get the greens spinning really, really, really fast?

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© 2009 Good Karma Housekeeping. Although less really is more, I do enjoy a new kitchen gadget every now and then.

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