Tag food

This Pizza May End Decision Fatigue

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

This blog and website started life as my journalism portfolio, and if you look to the side menu, that stuff is still there. It morphed into some place to chronicle my travel writings, my adventures, and my restaurant “reviews,” and then headed down the road of my disability experiences. I guess, in essence, this blog can serve anything.

One of the best perks of social media is exposure to restaurants and attractions you’ve never heard of– with many of them in your own backyard.

Instagram decided I needed to know about Spice Crust Pizzeria, located at 2910 Easton Avenue in Bethlehem, Pa. It’s a pizzeria– and it does indeed serve standard pizza, but it’s specialty is traditional Indian flavors served on pizza. Now, Eva and I love two things: pizza and well-done Indian cuisine. Other members of our household are less adventurous so we left them home. Now that we know they serve boring pizza, too, we can bring them next time.

If you know Easton Avenue, it’s in the plaza behind the Dairy Queen– the one Eva and I call “creepy plaza,” because the area is a little run down and at night can look extra dilapidated.

In the midst of my recent health journey, and refining my eating patterns, I don’t eat out much. And working part-time in a fast food restaurant, I do typically make good choices like kale salads and yogurt and fruit cups but when I’m stressed I eat the ginormous fried chicken sandwich and gain two pounds the next morning.

So if I’m going to make a choice to eat out, I want it to be special and “worth it.” And I want options that aren’t fancy sit-down ordeals, but conducive to a relaxing evening of doing nothing. For many of us, pizza is a go-to. And Dominos, with its inexpensive delivery and special deals can be cheap and satisfying, but so bad for your body. Chinese and Indian are other great go-tos, and at least offer more opportunities for vegetables, but Eva and I see those menus and order enough food for a family of ten.

This is a great compromise– the ease of pizza, the lazy shove it in your face experience, but the culinary adventure of spices outside your everyday repertoire. (And I made an Indian-spiced lentil stew on Sunday that I have eaten for the last three days, but this was still better, and more delightful, and welcome.)

In the gallery below, you will see two medium pizzas. The one on the left, where you can see a pizza box, is the veggie paneer pizza. The one on the right is the chicken curry halal pizza. They are very beautiful, colorful pizzas full of texture.

We arrived and we ordered the halal chicken curry pizza. Eva grabbed a couple of their in-house-bottled mango lassis and I picked a lychee drink, which was very floral yet not heavy. It offered a great reprieve from the spiciness of the pizza.

We later learned that they make their own yogurt for the lassi, and Eva brought home three more for her breakfast. The lassi has the perfect blend of sweet from the mango, and tang from the yogurt, but had a delicateness to it that I would attribute to their homemade yogurt. Eva has already texted her father about stopping on his way home from visiting his mother to get her more.

We also ordered the fried broccoli cheese bites. Yeah, I probably shouldn’t have. I didn’t need more food and I certainly didn’t need fried food. If I hadn’t ordered those, the scale might have been kinder to me today.

But it is nice to do something out of the ordinary.

The pizza arrived and it was really amazing. They didn’t skimp on toppings. Every mouthful was full of flavor and exploding on the tongue.

That’s why we ordered the second pizza to take home. It’s waiting for us in the fridge.

Their web site reads: “Diverse Tastes, Unforgettable Flavors, Offering a Unique Dining Experience That Blends the Rich Flavors of Indian and Italian Cuisine.” Visit their web site here.

The Brussel Sprout Challenge

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

This summer, since May specifically, I have been doing well with writing in my journal everyday (which is especially nice as Lauren Wenson and I are facilitating a journal writing workshop at the Easton Book Festival in October.

I hope that now that my journaling consistency has been restored that I can apply some of that same discipline to this space. we’ll see how that goes.

On Friday night, my daughter yells from the kitchen:
“Hey, Mom, you could totally eat 14 side orders of Brussel sprouts at Red Lobster, couldn’t you?”

I thought about it, and if a side of Brussel sprouts in like six to eight Brussels… I did some quick math. “14, no. But I could totally eat ten.”

“No way,” her boyfriend replies. “If you ate that many Brussel sprouts I would pay you $100. And I’d pay for the Brussel sprouts.”

“When are we going to Red Lobster?” I ask.

The answer was today. I did the research. One order of a premium side of Brussel sprouts is 380 calories. They are roasted, with soy ginger sauce and crispy onions. That’s a lot heavier than I was thinking. But a bet’s a bet.

I didn’t really have time to prepare. We left home Sunday morning around 11:45 a.m. when I started to get hungry. I had had a cup of coffee at 7 a.m. but nothing else. When we arrived at 12:15, we were the only people in Red Lobster, besides the one guy day drinking.

We do a brief explanation to the waiter. He promises to bring them with no crispy onion topping.

“You better eat, girl,” he tells me.

Game on. He returns with my first five orders, reporting that the chef wanted to put them all on one plate but he said they had to be on separate dishes.

I get a glass of water and only have a sip. First three bowls disappear in about fifteen minutes. Next two slow down, and I’m not enjoying the large, wet ones. I like the ones that look overcooked. The dry roasted leaves are easy to consume and taste better, especially as the big sprouts get cold.

I get up to use the bathroom. I’m definitely satiated, but I’m not disgustingly full. I order two more sides of Brussel sprouts.

When I get have way through the next platter, I realize how nonstandard some of the portions have been. And I’m getting really bored of chewing, and the flavors are getting monotonous. I don’t want to eat Brussel sprouts any more.

Eva is disappointed. “Oh, come on. You can’t stop because you’re bored. You’re not even full!”

“Do you know how hard it is to eat cold Brussel sprouts when you’re over them?”

She gets a brownie sundae and can’t finish it. So, after five-and-a-half plates of Brussel sprouts, I finish her brownie sundae, drink the rest of my water, and finally enjoy a Red Lobster cheddar biscuit.

A woman holding a sundae glass enjoying a brownie sundae with five empty plates piled in front of her and some portions of brussel sprouts
Me, eating Eva’s sundae

Eva’s boyfriend put $60 on the table. my prorated winnings.

“That might be the dumbest thing I ever spent $300 on,” he said.

We all found that hard to believe.

Seasonal summary and hoping for new beginnings

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

My daughter is in the garage doing yoga right now– an old set of yoga DVDs I found on a discount pile somewhere 20 years ago. I used to used those DVDs once or twice a day, each routine a mere 20 minutes, and its impact huge on my body. I should be out there with her right now, but although it is 8:30 in the morning on a Sunday, I am already knee-deep in work. So maybe after my 9 a.m. meeting I will give it a go on my own.

I’ve had some successes in life lately, but health and fitness is not one of them. I’ve been struggling with my mobility since before my trip to Ireland in March. Some of that is due to lack of movement in my routine. Some is due to lack of chiropractic care and not enough stretching. Some is weight.

But now I’m experiencing more and more symptoms of anemia. What started as mistyping words– not misspelling but using completely different words: “basket” coming out of my fingers instead of “basic” and “winter” instead of “window”– has nos (and I just typed “not” instead of “now”) escalated to incidents of brain fog (driving past the bank instead of to the bank) and drinking too many caffeinated beverages without feeling their impact and literally not being able to keep my eyes open at 2 or 3 p.m. despite having healthy sleep hygiene and getting to bed on time. And all of these symptoms get worse with the heat and the sun. Which is also classic anemia.

I scheduled my annual blood work for tomorrow morning at 6:45 a.m. It’s not due until September so the insurance company will probably love that. I also left a message for my chiropractor, Nicole Jensen at Back in Line, because even though it puts a strain on my finances, I need the care.

My right leg is definitely leaning into its femoral anteversion, and the best way I can describe it is like I have a tree trunk instead of a leg that I’m dragging around. And then once it’s a little straighter and not locked into a weird position, any yoga I do will help keep things limber.

I started taking my vitamins last week: vitamin D/calcium with breakfast, iron with lunch, and vitamin C with dinner if I remember).

I’ve also cleaned up my diet and I think I can say that except for breakfast with Laurel at Panera on Tuesday, all food has been prepared at home. I have tried to make sure I get more fresh fruits and vegetables and include a protein with every meal. With this routine, I have lost five pounds this week. And I know that is all the sodium/water weight leaving my system. But if I with another 7 pounds off this summer, I could be at the weight I was last fall when I saw my primary care physician last fall.

Both Eva and I have struggled with motivation to eat so far this spring/summer season… We’ve both been busy, stressed and exhausted. Eva’s taking an online American Sign Language class through Purdue University and her midterm is tomorrow. It’s really cool to watch her learn. And to help her study.

We’ve both taken to finding items that are easier to eat. Often these are easy-to-grab meat products and snacks for her, and meal-prepped items like overnight oats for me. Last night we both needed something for dinner so I made tuna fish sandwiches which also helped us use some of the aging iceberg lettuce in the fridge. I’ve been adding kale to everything I can, especially pasta and eggs. My other coup was a make-your-own quesadilla bar– I had flour tortillas, corn tortillas and refried beans from the dollar store, all items I keep on hand (in addition to beans I cooked from dry and froze, in seven different varieties); we had lettuce, tomato, and onion left over from burger night; and on a whim, I had just purchased sour cream and a huge block of cheddar. We even had fresh limes to give everything a citrus kick.

Speaking of food, I’ve been tracking my food in the Omada app again. I still believe the Omada program is a waste. If you have issues with food and weight and health and don’t have a previous understanding of nutrition I can’t see it helping. It only helps me because it reminds me what I’ve eaten, how I’m trending and gives me some basic nutritional summaries. But the fact that my insurance company gets charged $30/month just because I stepped on a scale is nuts. My coach is really good, but for the most part she can’t tell me anything I don’t already know.

So much of health is making the hard and responsible choices.

And doing what you need to do.

It’s also the only app/system that gets worse over time. Their AI-driven logging system can’t identify basic foods, and when you try to edit the listings with information from the actual label, it just ignores you. Omada does not believe in tracking calories. It encourages instead you make better, educated decisions based on your hunger and how you feel. I understand that calorie-counting can lead to some psychological issues, but in the end, weight loss is math. They do track fiber, added sugar, protein and saturated fat. But not sodium. If you have a chronic weight or heart problem, you need to understand sodium.

And they encourage you to aim for 50% nutritous. I average 50% on any given day. Today I’m at 57% so far, but I’m due for lunch. That may change. Now, if you know me, you know– I try to make my meal choices as close to vegan and minimally processed as possible. I had gestational diabetes when I was pregnant with Eva, and trying to eat 2800 calories in six meals a day with no sugar on a vegetarian diet got me very bored. Thank God I decided to incorporate tuna into my routine. I can still remember some of those routines. My ten-thirty a.m. snack was large curd cottage cheese and usually strawberries or raspberries and my 8 p.m. snack was decaf coffee and unsweetened soy milk. (I had to do something to make the “milk” drinkable.) I still can’t look at a plate of food without seeing its protein and carbohydrate estimates in my head.

screenshot of the Omada app showing the list of protein, fiber, fat and sugar stats

Most people don’t have my experiences. And I know myself. For instance, if I eat a meal out, even if I make the good choices, I will gain 3 pounds the next day.

Most people don’t stay invested in their choices like I do– so if I only eat 50% nutritious, how does a standard American diet rank? I wouldn’t want to know.

So far today, I have had:

  • about 16 ounces iced coffee with a healthy pour of half and half. (That comes in at 50% because the coffee is considered a healthy drink, even if I drink it at every meal. The half and half on the other hand is not nutritious, because of its saturated fat content, but it has calcium, vitamin D and protein and isn’t sweetened or processed like other creamers.)
  • For breakfast, a little more than half an apple with skin on, with cinnamon sugar and mixed nuts. Water, 30 ounces, and one scoop of my Powdervitamin electrolyte powder which has no calories, is the most dense with minerals and salt, and sweetened with stevia. But because of the sugar on my apples and the powder, that again ranks my meal as only 50% nutritious. I could have used a processed caramel fruit dip or an icing and Omada would have ranked my choice as just as it did when I added just a touch of sugar. And the electrolyte powder gets treated like a sugary Gatorade even though I need that supplement to prevent orthostatic hypotension because I don’t eat many sodium-rich foods and I drink so much water. How many other people drink 50+ ounces of fluid before 9 a.m.????

My plan remains simple… More movement, more yoga, eating at home, and not eating due to stress. And in a few months or maybe a year I will write a blog post like this. Again. Which I do so frequently. As I struggle and fail and disappoint myself. But permanent change is a long game and it’s hard when the only person who holds the power and the motivation is yourself.

Takeaway and the World Cup Qualifier

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

I wish I could tell you I went to bed early last night, but at 7 p.m. I got my second or third wind. M suggested Indian takeaway, because we felt it would be a great experience to get takeaway, because Americans do take-out and our takeaways are lessons not dinner.

And Spice & Rice had fal— an extremely spicy item.

He did not order fal. He ordered spicy chicken vindaloo and I ordered lamb korma, which shocked him because I don’t normally do mild dishes. I got the meal for one deal for 20.95 euros, which included a drink, a starter, a pilau rice, a naan (I got mango peshwaari)and poppadom. So much food. I don’t know how they consider that meal for one. That is easily meal for two.

We wandered down to the restaurant around 7:30 p.m. and it was dead, enough so that M was nervous that maybe the food would be bad. While the food cooked, we meandered to the end of the block to Peader Brown‘s, a traditional Irish pub that has a history of Irish Republicanism. They had several televisions visible from the tented outdoor area as they were at capacity because of the World Cup Qualifying match between the Czech Republic and Ireland.

The moon was bright and the game was amazing, each time we went to return for our takeaway, the Irish team scored. We wondered if maybe we were a good luck charm.

We read the pro-Palestine posters, and M even noticed a Palestinian flag across the street. That’s not surprising as the Irish are acutely aware of the politics of ownership by occupation.

We also started calling the Czech team and each other feckin eejits as I had stopped at a curiosities shop earlier in the day where they had some interesting mugs and dirty feckin eejit soap. (“Weird is wonderful,” the window said.”

This also led to M and I conversing about why Ireland has such a “cussing culture” and my hypothesis went to the idea that the Irish have a long history as a working class culture, people who have survived on an island for a very long time (in Dublin’s case 900 years).

Speaking of oddities, I saw a sign in the window of the barber:

“Spectacles and Wooden Legs always Wanted.”

We brought the takeaway back to our room where we stuffed ourselves with a delicious feast that we could not finish. So we piled it into the fridge, but we have no microwave so we may need to reheat it with some creativity with hot water from the electric kettle.

And then we turned on the game.

Now we were exhausted and stuffing our faces with Indian food, but the Irish team was giving it their everything. And we couldn’t stop watching.

The game remained 2-2 and went into double overtime, and an Irish player and a Czech player collided so hard the Irish player left on a backboard. (I have to Google that and see if he’s okay.) Those boys were tired, sweaty, covered with grass stains and still playing an intense game.

And then it went to penalty kicks. M tapped out. He can’t handle penalty kicks. But I had to know who won. The Czech team missed the third kick. The Irish team missed the fourth. Then the Irish team missed the fifth and the Czechs did not. The Czechs won the game on the fifth penalty kick.

From the news:

New York Times

Irish Mirror

I should have grabbed a Guinness. (I’m glad I didn’t because I needed a good night’s sleep! We even have pint glasses in the room.)

Preparing for a travel day

Angel Ackerman Leave a comment

Today is technically day five of my Spring Break tour to Washington, D.C., and Dublin, Ireland. I have been here at my friend M’s house since Sunday, where Eva and I spent the day at the Smithsonian National Zoo.

Despite the fact that this is a vacation and a visit with a friend whom I have not seen recently, we also both have to work. And once we head to Dublin, hopefully the real vacationing will begin.

The dining has been superb, even though I have not left the house since I returned from the zoo. We all love food here. Sunday we had pasta with a vodka-style cream sauce (without the vodka), Monday we had grilled cheese on rye with gruyere and a lovely tomato soup that reminded me of the Pacific Foods cream of tomato I used to enjoy (which was the only tomato soup I’ve ever liked), and last night we had blackened tofu with cheesy grits and a side of carrots. Breakfasts have consisted of various cheeses on toast– from reaper cheese to truffle cheese.

M. and his family moved into this house eight years ago, and Gayle gave him tea towels her sister had crocheted. They are still in daily use.

On Monday, I never got out of my pajamas. On Tuesday, I showered and got dressed. Today I got up, dressed, and combed my hair. And I packed. I have my ancient carry-on bag with the leopard print exterior, and in that is my man-bag crossover purse, and I plan to take my laptop bag/backpack on the plane.

I have dressed extremely comfortably, and have a sweatshirt for warmth with a raincoat and scarf in my backpack. I try to be practical and prepared without hauling too much shit. Once we get to Ireland, I will reorganize everything so I have my purse ready for outings and my backpack stays at the hotel.

More later friends.

Day 1 of my Spring Break: Harrisburg, Pa., and Gaithersburg, Md.

Angel Ackerman 2 Comments

Eva and I are traveling to Washington, D.C., so that I may grab a flight to Dublin with my traveling companion M on Wednesday.

M. and I have not traveled in about a decade, and this is probably the first time we are traveling someplace where they are not shooting each other.

But that’s another story.

Eva is on spring break and for some strange, serendipitous reason, she has no pet clients this weekend. She’s exhausted after finishing her home renovation project on our hallway.

I could have taken Amtrak from Philly to D.C., as a matter of fact that is how I am getting home. But Eva wanted to visit D.C., and thought it might be nice to visit the National Zoo. She had hoped she could introduce her boyfriend to our friends in D.C. but he is traveling to a welding competition.

Now, Eva didn’t want to make the 3.5 hour one-way trip to D.C. and then turned around a few hours later and drive home alone.

But we learned none of our friends would be home Saturday until late.

So we booked a room at the Doubletree in Gaithersburg, MD, basically because they had a breakfast, an indoor/outdoor pool and who doesn’t love the warm cookies?

And Eva never had the warm cookie experience.

So at 9:30 we checked the old in the car– she’s an old girl and has been acting a tad funny lately about her oil. It disappears and then reappears. Maybe she has some build-up. We know she’s burning some… but to be safe, we check her often. And today we checked her cool in the flat garage

She looked good. But we have oil with us just in case.

We headed to Sheetz, and by then I already needed to pee. Eva put gas in the car. I hoped to find the cookies and cream puff things but every since I decided to try them, they never have that flavor.

Next, we went to Grocery Outlet. I need my famous $7 pen set. This cheap set of gel pens comes in a plastic case and I love them. Each set lasts about 6 months before my favorite colors start running out.

Meanwhile, Eva was in charge of road trip snacks. She selected:

  • 2 C4 energy drinks in zero sugar, very fruity flavors. I find these are easier to stomach than coffee or soda when temperature can not be maintained. Plus we both like them so we can share, and save space in the cupholders.
  • A present for someone’s birthday that has nothing to do with this trip
  • sunglasses
  • A massive can of bar mix nuts
  • A fairly big box of those nutty buddy style wafer bars that Little Debbie makes but instead they were made by Nature Valley and trying to be fancy. 20 of them.
  • A bag of beef jerky– some plain, some ranch, some buffalo, all mixed in one bag

We were on the road by 10.

Around 11, we got a phone call– the dog had bit the neighbor and the neighbor went to the ER. Now, it was a minor bite, but it broke skin, and the neighbor wanted to make sure he didn’t need shots/antibiotics. But that’s another story. But it sure did put a stressful spin on the next couple hours.

At 11:30, we arrived at Midtown Scholar Books, once voted bookstore of the year by Publisher Weekly. See my review here on the Parisian Phoenix blog. (It was $4.35 to park for 90 minutes in downtown Harrisburg.)

Eva had a doctor appointment via Zoom at noon so she took that in the car and then we visited Broad Street Market. Apparently, oldest market in America in continuous operation. We weren’t hungry– all those road trip snacks but they had all kinds of ethnic food from Chinese (I think) to Korean, Jamaican to African.

1 p.m. We crossed the state line into Maryland while on the phone with Larry Sceurman.

At 2:10 we arrived at Doubletree Washington DC North in Gaithersburg MD (about 40 minutes from M’s house). We got our cookies and our parking pass. We didn’t really need our keys because I used Hilton’s digital check-in, chose my room and they had emailed me that it was ready and activated my digital key which I can use from my phone.

I picked a room on the end of the lower level, away from any noise but fairly close to the indoor/outdoor pool.

And there’s a frozen yogurt vending machine in the lobby.

Panera and CVS are within a third of a mile and there’s a food truck in the shady looking parking lot across the street that has good reviews on Google Maps. I wonder what time they open in the morning… They don’t… the internet says they are closed Sundays. I might have to head out there tonight…

Eva and I went to Habit Burger and Grill because it was three-in-the-afternoon and we were hungry but not insanely hungry and while it is a chain, it’s not one we knew. I saw it had a free self-serve pepper bar with jalapenos, banana peppers and pepperocini. So we had to investigate.

I had a nice fish sandwich and limeade.

We came back to the hotel and I did some stuff for the business while Eva did some schoolwork. We plan to go swimming tonight.

A taste of Hinduism

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

When I was in college at what is now Moravian University, we had to take several religion classes to fulfill our liberal arts requirements. We had to take one on the Bible, and I took Old Testament. For one of my world culture religious requirements, I took Religions of China and Japan, where I learned about Confucianism, Taosim and Zen Buddhism.

My daughter, now at Lafayette College, also a liberal arts institution, has taken several religion classes because it seems to be the only department with courses open when her class year registers. And unlike her parents– she has no interest in English classes. She also can’t take classes at lunch time because of her dog walk clients, and she would prefer not to take any more classes with labs.

This semester, she has two religion classes, an astronomy class (space math) and a class in her major department on psychiatric diagnoses. Her two religion classes are Religion in World Cultures and Anthropology of Religion. For her world cultures class, she has to visit a religious site/service and write a reflection paper.

Some members of her class are visiting the local mosque. Not us. During the summer, I had seen a video or some social media post about BAPS Swaminarayan Akshardham North America. I was pretty sure the TikTok algorithm suggested it. I showed it to Eva because I thought then it would make a fun road trip– simply because of the architecture.

It’s about 65 miles from our house, and a lovely scenic 95-minute drive. Visit their web site here.

We watched the orientation video that discussed the basics of their beliefs and the construction of the campus– which began around 2011 on 185 acres, took 12,500 volunteers and was more or less completed in 2023. The limestone was carved in India and shipped to the United States where it was reassembled “like a giant jigsaw puzzle.”

Even without reflecting on the spiritual spaces on the campus, their design includes so many statues, people, animals, and even hands and feet (as a sacred connection to the divine).

Our first stop was the mandir where we joined a prayer ceremony. Shoes off and divided into men and women, we sat on the heated marble floor in silence. The chants and prayers were familiar to the Hindus in the audience who joined in with strong voices and rhythmic claps as the leaders (monks? swamis?) in orange performed gestures before the (shrines?).

This was my first time experiencing anything Hindu, and I apologize for mixing up the words regarding the leaders, the representations of the Holy, and whatever instruments they used for the prayer ceremony we attended. I do understand and appreciate that touring the campus is an exercise in personal spirituality and a journey into the divine.

Swaminarayan refers to the type of Hindu faith and Akshardham means large temple.

And the architecture of the Akshardham in New Jersey follows the guidelines from Hindu scriptures, including an 80-foot spire that reminds those viewing it of the search for higher truth and the divine.

Let me repeat that I know nothing about Hinduism, but I did buy some books today: Hindu Vegetarianism, Hindu FAQs and Hindu Funeral Rites. So, hopefully this will spark a journey. I marveled at the expansive statues in the Akshardham and compared them to Christian stained glass window, as a way to share with the illiterate population the tenets of the faith. (And I loved the reminder that feet connect to the ground and the spiritual.)

The campus itself was beautifully landscaped and organized and moved people from place to place, maintaining order yet allowing everyone freedom to explore. Everything– from the statues to the levels of the water feature in the front of the grounds (symbolizing purity and the sacred rivers of India)– had symbolic meaning.

After we perused the grounds, the buildings, and even the construction timeline, we visited the food shop. And we bought a bunch of snacks to bring home (mango cookies, cashew fudge among them).

Then, we hit the food court. I wish we had a paper menu I could share with you. Eva had a saucy cheese street dish (Pav Bhaji) with toasted rolls, a mango lassi, a fruit drink AND a cup of hot masala chai. I had the cauliflower (Gobi Manchurian) and a odd little cookie coated with saffron (Kesar Vati).

We spent $20 in the gift shop, $20 in the snack shop and $40 on lunch.

The scents of incense, tastes of good vegetarian Indian street food, warm floors beneath our feet, exquisite art surrounding us, welcoming staff and volunteers, beautiful chants and prayers, and the deep spiritual vibe made the day an enlightening adventure.

We now have a deep freezer

Angel Ackerman 1 Comment

We recently got an old, hand-me-down deep freezer.

And at the same time, the federal government shutdown and Pennsylvania state budget impasse have complicated SNAP benefits for families who have them.

I heard on the news that 1-in-8 Americans have SNAP (Supplemental Nutrition or “food stamps”). I heard one story this morning about an unemployed widow with a 15-year-old son whose soundbite suggested she sent him to school so he could eat breakfast and lunch.

I hope she’s sending him to school for an education, first and foremost.

I consider myself a fiscally-conservative Democrat who believes that education and healthcare should be attainable and fair. I would love to have a Ph.D., but I can’t afford to finish my masters and I refuse to go into debt for it. I also have a disability, and even when I am well-employed I often have to make choices about my medical care.

Right now, I have my own small business. I work a part-time job in the food service industry to provide some reliable income on a steady timeline. I am an adjunct instructor at my local community college, and if you break it down to an hourly rate, I probably make a similar wage at my fast food job (because of the fact that I did not have the money to finish my degrees). And I have freelance writing and editing jobs and a mini author’s assistant job.

And I’m always on the look out for more. Applied for another this morning.

I started my career in public relations, and ended up in print journalism, which led to a long career of lay-offs as newspapers died. I worked in non-profit communications and development, where I learned a massive amount of useful skills like grant writing but also experienced a ridiculous amount of toxic managerial behavior. Some people work in the non-profit sector because they want to make the world a better place, but at the same time, many of those people have either childhood trauma and/or personal insecurities that create some challenging environments in an already difficult field.

I mention all of this because I have experience with unemployment. I have experience with being the single mom with maybe enough resources to survive a month. I was a single mom raising a teenager who lost her job during the pandemic and did not find out if she qualified for unemployment until the weekend after she accepted a new job. I was unemployed for four months and had opened my home to one of my daughter’s friends who didn’t feel safe in her own home.

I applied for public assistance because I was volunteering at a non-profit that provides services for people exiting human trafficking situations and my “boss” suggested it. Because I had no income and I had an official dependent, I received more than $700/month in food stamps. And Medicaid. Which was a great help. Even though I only received food stamps for four months, I rationed them so they lasted almost a year.

I had accepted a job in the warehouse at Stitch Fix. I loved that job, and the company, but after three years they decided to close our warehouse. After three years at a wage where my take-home pay was the same as what I had made as the development manager for a small non-profit with a two-million-dollar annual budget (thanks to the fact that Stitch Fix offered their employees free medical benefits), I found myself laid off again.

And when my unemployment ran out, I once again applied for food stamps. I had gone on multiple interviews, built up my small business, but still struggled with the cost of my medical care– my estranged husband put me on his benefits but my medicine was $50-$100 a month and all my doctor’s appointments I had to pay out of pocket because of the high deductible. So I really hoped I would qualify for Medicaid again. And I did.

I also qualified for $525 in food stamps.

Around this same time, Trump got re-elected and the cheap refrigerator I bought started freezing the food in the refrigerator and not freezing the food in the freezer. But I couldn’t afford a new fridge– and I still can’t– so we started buying only what we could eat in a few days, or foods that could safely thaw and refreeze.

Lettuce is not one of them, if you were curious.

The point of all this is to ask: Regardless of how you feel about who uses food stamps or how the government distributes them or whether or not people try hard enough or work hard enough, why is no one asking why we have a system where 1-in-eight Americans qualifies for food stamps?

I have seen and heard so many things about the system, and I have known people who work in the branches of government that distribute these types of assistance and they are all people who want to help. I have met people afraid to work because they might lose assistance, and I have seen people who need the help lose it because they made too much money. (And, like me, it’s usually people who need medical care.)

I have about $2,300 left on my deductible this year, and I have spent almost an equal amount if you read my EOBs from the insurance company. I’m losing my hearing in one ear and I need a hearing test and a visit with the audiologist. The muscles in my one leg have been spasming 24-hours-a-day for almost a year now and I just blamed it on my cerebral palsy but my neurologist has concerns that previously noted damage to my spine (from all these years of walking crooked) may have caused nerve damage in my lower back. And my one finger has been doing crazy things for about a year.

That’s probably at least $6,000 worth of tests. Do I just try to schedule it all before the end of the year and finance the $2,000+ remaining of the deductible on a credit card? Or Able Pay? or do I wait until I am better off financially?

Back to the deep freezer. A friend of the family was hoping to get a decade-plus year old freezer out of his house. We took it. We took all the stuff from our cheap refrigerator that needed better freezer conditions and piled it in. And I thought– when Trump was elected an I was worried about the future of food stamps, I didn’t have a freezer to fill. I did however invest in every non-perishable food item I could tolerate.

Dried Beans. Plain-old Rice. Canned Fruit. Canned Vegs. Nutritional Yeast. Some condiments. Canned Tuna. Spam. Canned Chicken.

My childhood traumas leave me to ruminate frequently about food scarcity, financial security and general stability. I will probably always behave as if every trip to the grocery store is the last one I can afford. And I have done my grocery shopping at the Dollar Tree and the Grocery Outlet because I only had $20 left to feed us for the week.

The Office of Vocational Rehab considers me the most severely tier of worker, whereas the federal government says I do not qualify for disability because I work so much and at so many jobs. But the federal government doesn’t take into consideration that I have to work that hard to make ends meet. And I don’t always succeed and I often hurt myself doing it. And I just work past it.

But how do you determine an equitable way to decide who deserves help? And I ask a third time: Why does 1-in-eight Americans receive food stamps? What is wrong with our society if 1-in-eight people cannot afford to feed themselves according to the criteria the government sets forth?

Food for thought.

The bee, the blues, the books and the… pizza?

Angel Ackerman 2 Comments

I will be telling parts of this story on my Substack newsletter that I plan to post tomorrow morning. I write about my publishing company, Parisian Phoenix Publishing; books, the ones we publish, books for writers and fun books to read; and writing. You can subscribe here.

I had booked a table at Books and Booze 2 at Madness Distillery in the Country Junction Plaza in Lehighton, Pa. (With a name like Madness Distillery, how could I stay away?)

I had packed the books earlier this week but left decisions about signs and other marketing materials until today, and despite sleeping decently last night, my brain would not kick in. So it took all my focus to get out the door on time.

And I had to drop Eva off at her dad’s so she could borrow his car for the afternoon.

About a mile from the house, a bee flew onto my windshield at a stoplight. I pointed him out to Eva. About four more blocks down the road, he was still sitting there. I said to Eva, “If we take him all the way to your dad’s, he’ll be more than a mile away from his hive. How will he find his way home? Will he have food? Will he be warm? How is he just sitting on that windshield?”

And then I added a final thought: “If we leave him at your dad’s, that’s like someone dropping you off in England and telling you to swim home.”

We stopped. I said my goodbyes. I waited for my daughter to cross the street. The bee had not gone. So I resumed my drive.

About 4 miles later, I got onto the highway. Little bee did not fare well as my speeds increased. He slid across the windshield (toward the top), putting one foot down and another up, trying to get his grip.

I had to speed up even more, and now we’re about 12 miles away from home. The bee is starting to curl into himself and press down into the glass. I wonder: Would it be kinder to turn on my windshield wipers and smoosh him?

I can’t stop watching him, but I have to, because I’m driving 70 miles an hour on the highway. I’m getting upset, and fighting tears as my nerves fray. I ponder exiting the road because of this bee. I call Eva. I tell her everything.

“Mom, it’s a bee.”

“He doesn’t deserve to suffer. Nothing deserves to suffer.”

“Mom, life is hard.”

I cackle. I hang up. I get one more mile, and the bee rolls into a tight marble and disappears. He was on my windshield for about 15 miles.

About this time, I realize my mother married my father 50 years ago today. My father died three years and eleven months ago. My wedding anniversary was Thursday. My husband and I married 26 years ago. We splint up six years ago. And my mother’s 71st birthday was also Thursday.

The GPS took me past the site of the dirt track where my father raced micro-stock when Eva was a toddler. Past the post office where my father got his mail. Past one road to his house. Past the diner where he ate most of his meals. Past the gas station where he bought his cigarettes. Past the other road to his house. Past the funeral home where we had his services.

My parents divorced when I was 15. But my mom always loved my dad. And I think he never got over her. So I texted her when I arrived at my destination– which was alongside the lake where my dad would drive his boat.

“You married Dad 50 years ago today. I miss him soooo much.”

I set up my table, met some of my fellow authors, and tried to shake off my nerves.

Photo by author Shannon Delaney, a family member of my dear friend Mitzi from Pocono Lehigh Romance Writers and Greater Lehigh Valley Writers Group

I counted about 20 people who attended the event– not including anyone with the other vendors at the event. I sold three books: two hardcover copies of Larry Sceurman‘s Bookworm’s Magical Journey and one advance copy of Geraldine Donaher‘s young adult Mouth Shut Head Down, which doesn’t officially launch until January.

The distillery had a sign in the window. It read “Adult Book Fair Today.” I think what they meant was “Book Fair for Adults today” or because it was a distillery, “Book Fair today. Adults only!”

But it immediately made me think I should have brought more erotica. The only erotica title I brought was Juicy Bits. Most of the authors for Booze and Books 2 were romance authors, and it looked like the most popular offerings were romances-with-shirtless-men-on-the-cover. It looked like most vendors sold 2-4 books, though I later learned that some vendors sold none. (To be fair, tables cost $10, so no one had huge expectations of kicking off a bestselling book tour at this event.)

The event is between coal country and the Poconos, so I thought my spicy horror novels would do well. I also brought our romances, Trapped: What if Skunks Were Matchmakers? and Any Landing You Walk Away From… (the author of the latter, Dawn O’Harra, is from the Poconos). I made a Halloween section on the other side of my novels, with Hugo Yelagin‘s Lovecraftian Deadlights and Eva Parry‘s tarot journal. Any Landing served as a transiton into non-fiction, and I brought Motorhome Gypsies and Coach of the Building (as the author of Coach teaches public school in the area) and then Larry Sceurman‘s fiction to appeal to any men accompanying wives and his children’s book because many romance readers are moms. And Geraldine’s book? Not even sure why I tossed that in.

Two hours into the event, my mother returned my text. “Hadn’t even given it a thought.”

When I left the event, I was hungry and pining for pizza. The GPS took me a different way home, perhaps recognizing my emotional distress from the previous route. It took me home the route I had anticipated on the way up– it took me through Palmerton, Pa., one of my favorite places. I celebrated my 49th birthday in Palmerton. Read about that here.

As I was driving away from the venue, I thought to myself: That looks like I’m heading toward Palmerton. Maybe I can find that awesome little pizza shop in Palmerton. I looked at the GPS. It told me my next turn was onto Delaware Avenue, which, if I remembered correctly, was the main street in Palmerton. And the pizza shop was on it.

Sure enough, I entered Palmerton. Pulled up right in front of the pizza shop. Went in, ordered two slices dine in, grabbed a boxed iced tea, and paid the employee $8.64 (which is roughly the price of one Grilled Club Chick-Fil-A sandwich).

15 minutes later I was back in the car.

That little detour changed my mood. Perhaps a gentle reminder that we find our own destinies and don’t have to conform to outside expectations.

Yesterday was hard

Angel Ackerman 3 Comments

I don’t want to write this. I am tired and I want to go to bed and pray that I am not in too much pain to sleep. I won’t post it until tomorrow (Hence referring to today as yesterday in the title.)

Nothing bad happened. It was just a bad day physically, and it’s been a long time since a day hit me this hard.

I need to write about it though, because I am under strict instructions from my doctor to pay attention and note anything unusual because she’s heard some of my symptoms and said that if I were any other patient I’d be going for tests.

And if I don’t write this blog, I will forget today was a bad day physically.

It started nicely enough. Visted Nancy Scott and noticed then that climbing the stairs felt more stiff than usual.

Ate decently. Tried a sample meal replacement bar for breakfast and ate a HUGE brunch of potato, broccoli, multi color peppers, egg and feta. Had two pieces of licorice and a whole bunch of unsweetened and barely caffeinated tea.

I noticed while changing into my work uniform that my knuckles felt achy and weak and like I was about to injure my middle finger as I did with my mallet finger/sock incident of 2022. (If you want to read more about my mallet finger, click here.) This sensation returned again at the end of the night before I showered.

I took 10 mg of baclofen. In the morning, I took five.

Left for work at 1:30. So here’s the big reveal– in addition to my publishing company, I took what was supposed to be a very part-time job at Chick-Fil-A. My reasons for selecting that particular job were very specific. That might be a good topic for another post.

Once I arrive, I grab some Coke Zero. I usually stick to unsweetened iced tea or seltzer while I’m at the restaurant, but tonight I needed something a little extra. The back of my right thigh is spasming.

I started my shift running people their food inside the restaurant. It’s not my strongest position, but I like the movement. Then, I went to the drive-thru window for an hour, before I went back to running. My legs felt very heavy and clumsy the whole time.

Then, I went on break. And I ate a fruit cup. Everything still felt hard to move.(I walked a total of 15,000 steps today and two hours of my shift registered as exercise on my Apple Watch.) While outside I started stumbling, and twice I almost pelted some cars with bags of food.

And it was cold outside! Then, the icy rain started. Eventually, I got a poncho, and after about two hours I went inside and washed my hands for five straight minutes trying to get them warm again. At this point, my lower half hurts and I can’t bend and reach the floor.

And one of my supervisors accidentally clocks me in the cheekbone with his elbow. Hard.

I finally leave, and my phone alerts me that my heart rate is high. It hovered around 120-135 most of my shift. It usually does.

My toe hurts– not sure if I’m getting a blister or the toe I almost broke or the neuroma giving me trouble.

I came home, showered and made myself some food. And took 20 mg of baclofen. Making my grand total for the day 35 mg. I think. My blood pressure is also trending upward, at 112/78.

My phone says my average walking asymmetry for the day was 2.5 percent, but I noticed there was a lot of asymmetry. Often when my numbers are bad, they are a lot higher but only happen once. This was happening frequently. It looks like it was happening a dozen times an hour.

So, I came home wet, cold, stumbling and hurting.

I record this now to improve my memory of what the bad days feel like.