Author: NouveauSoileau

Optimistic mother, devoted lover, careful writer

A throbbing pain in the blog

Published on by NouveauSoileau1 Comment

It’s pretty amusing to peek behind the scenes at your own blog, where you can see just how and why people read your pearls of wisdom.

For example, today I see:

Top Searches
throbbing pain left foot

When presented with information such as this, I don’t know whether to clap my hands delightedly or weep for humanity. Because, of course, the post that brought whomever here to Chez NouveauSoileau, was my completely non-medically informed post about my ouchie foot.

But I made the mistake of including an official-looking graphic of the bones of the foot and throwing in a term that I thought had had made up but no, it turns out to describe an actual medical condition, metatarsalitis. So persons unknown trying to find out what is up with THEIR ouchie feet might well indeed click upon my blog and, I fear, come away unsatisfied as to the cause of their malady.

However — and this is the hand-clappy part — something drew them away from their medically important task and made them want to read my blog, NouveauSoileau, your purveyor of all that is mundane and pointless. And, let us not forget this, completely worth the money you’ve paid to read the aforementioned frivolity whenever the mood strikes me to add something to it.

Which could be more often, I admit.

But in fact, “metatarsalitis” is the top term that people have used to land on my blog, quickly followed by “Old Gringo,” “bones in the left foot,” “joe doe restaurant nyc,” and “neighbor peeing.”

Neighbor peeing. This I don’t want to think about. Yes, I’ve used the term peeing and apparently at some point a referenced a neighbor, but the two words didn’t skip hand-in-hand down my sentence structure, so why anyone would take the momentous step to click here, I have no idea. Perhaps someone is advancing our knowledge as a species by doing earnest research into the neighbor urination situation, yes, a burning issue of our time.

Another goody I found amongst the search terms was how much are goopy apex seals, but, disappointingly, this had nothing to do with with a complex and important debate raging worldwide regarding plump and firm apex seals vs. the goopy kind. And what about poor nadir seals. Was anyone Googling them?

Turns out that over the course of two or three posts I had indeed used those six words, but again, not in a sentence. So why on earth would someone trying to purchase car parts wander away from this important mission and start reading about why I think boots are the absolute apex of shoe-ownership, goopy delicious Bryer’s ice cream, and some sort of half-baked theory on having a disability seal of approval in order to ride in a scooter around the grocery store?

Another — and perhaps more important — burning issue of our time.

Do what you can

Published on by NouveauSoileau1 Comment

Today on the blog is a link to Doctors Without Borders, an organization helping with the devastation caused by this week’s earthquake in Haiti.

Matt DeHaven

Many of you know Matt DeHaven, the older brother of two of my oldest and best friends, Cathy and Steve. Matt was an emergency room physician and had hoped one day to become part of a Doctors Without Borders team providing medical assistance to people in need. Matt’s life was cut short by a devastating brain tumor and he died in December at the age of 50.

The DeHaven family dedicated their lives to helping others, from the missionary work of their physician- and hospital-administrator parents in India (where Steve and Cathy were born and Matt spent his early childhood years) to the careers chosen by their children. Today Cathy is a primary care physician and Steve is an informatics nurse (a specialty that combines nursing skills with computer expertise).

Please join the spirit of DeHaven family by offering what financial help you can to ease the suffering in Haiti. And after this disaster, remember that the need goes on and Doctors Without Borders’ work will continue.

Your gift today will support emergency medical care for the men, women, and children affected by the earthquake. Please give as generously as you can to this organization’s Haiti Earthquake Response and help them save lives.

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Here comes the sun

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This morning it was snowing and it was 19 degrees. Yeah, sure, snow is pretty. OK, fine, it’ll warm up as the day goes on.

Tell me another one.

Winter is not my favorite season. I’d much rather be basking in summer sunshine, listening to the birds and watering my sunflowers. But the earth needs a rest, at least in this hemisphere, and today I choose to view winter as a period of rejuvenation. I’m gathering strength for the coming season.

Like most of the over-indulgent, I’ve put on a few pounds over the holidays, slacked off on the exercise and generally lived the life of a pampered potato. Tras, too, has taken a good hard look at where his abs used to be and made a similar deduction. And like most of the over-indulgent, we have taken the coming of the new year to vow to turn over a new leaf, make a new plan, start afresh.

A shopping trip yesterday found me buying loads of fresh foods that I love. I’ve perused the recipe book for healthful dinners that I’ll be making from now on (NO MORE GRAVY) and I’ve taken inventory of spice rack and planned accordingly. The Wii Fit is singing its siren song and no longer will I ignore the treadmill in the basement.

These are my resolutions. Like the cheerful sunflower that again adorns the NouveauSoileau masthead, I’ve resolved to take a new and sunny view of life – and my waistline — and view it as an optimistic Project. I’m up for a challenge. I’m a healthy risk-taker. I know what needs to be done and by God I’m gonna do it.

I only ask one thing.

Talk me out of it.

A watched pot never explodes

Published on by NouveauSoileau2 Comments

Frequently, as you know, I make my coffee the night before. That way, there is very little room for error in the uncaffeinated morning. But because I’m human, and therefore essentially lazy, most weekends I just leave it til morning and enjoy the evening with one less chore to do before bed.

This week I’ve been on weekend mode since Wednesday, since we’re off work for New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day. Without having to get up and go to the office I lose track of days fast. Right now it could be Monday afternoon for all I know.

So whatever morning it is right now, I got up and staggered to the kitchen to make a hot delicious pot of coffee. The coffeemaker of choice was manufactured by Gevalia, one of approximately 23,471 of these things I’ve had over the last 10 years or so. If you’re unfamiliar with the company, you are apparently impervious to advertising. Sign up for their coffee-by-mail service and they’ll send you a free coffeemaker. Or thermos. Or coffee cups. Or some other enticing coffee-related thing.

The coffee is of course delicious, but about $95 a pound, and after a few months you come to your senses and cancel the whole thing. Only to repeat it six months later when they offer another coffeepot, somewhat more interesting than the other 19 you’ve got stacked around the house, so you sign up again.

Tras and I, separately, before marrying, were equally like moths drawn to the free coffeepot flame, so there are years and years of Gevalia-related experiences between us.

So anyway back to this morning. Rather than use the Krups coffemaker I’ve got on the bathroom sink for normal, barely sentient workday mornings, I staggered to the kitchen to make the coffee there. So as not to disturb the sleeping beauties still cuddled abed, you understand.

There I was met by the Current Gevalia Model. I greeted it with a mixture of deep longing and pure irritation. Last week, ya see, Tras made a pot of coffee in it, and the thing exploded all over the countertop, causing me to issue one of my rare Edicts, which was Tras You Are No Longer Allowed to Use this Coffeepot.

I don’t know what this thing does, but somehow in the brewing process, either the paper filter fails or some other mysterious basket-related trauma occurs, but the end result is you’ve got coffee, wet grounds and water all over your countertop — and no coffee.

Somewhat sooner rather than later, my edict came back and bit me in the ass, and whatever mysterious thing I either did or failed to do occurred and yesterday morning I was greeted with the same disaster all over the counter.

Not this morning, I vowed, sounding rather like a movie announcer.

In a world where the procurement of excellent morning coffee is just a dream — ONE WOMAN dares to achieve the Perfect Pot.

And so I stood, shivering violently in the predawn light (OK, it had been light for two hours) watching the damn thing to ensure it didn’t explode all over the place. Waiting for one misstep, one Juan Valdesian error that I alone could correct and cause happiness and caffeine to freely flow through my body this lovely Thursday morning, or whatever it is.

Of course, nothing. No explosion. No insurrections. No 1980s style action movie disaster to combat. I remain clueless as to what, exactly, causes these Gevalia pots to revolt — but only when no one is looking.

Perhaps one day — In a world where humanity has freed itself from the lure of free coffeemakers — One Woman will know.