I had seen the movie "Julie & Julia". That's when I decided to do this project. The parts of the movie that I remember the most are the parts about Julia. I recently finished the book. The book seemed very different than the movie. Julie in the movie is cute, funny, a bit zany. Julie in the book is a bit of a loon. The thing is, though, I remember that. I remember that time in my life when everything was a big deal. I'd get something in my head and it would be crazy time until it was done or I'd found something else to take its place. Julie gave herself a year to complete her project. That deadline was all-consuming. She repeatedly raves that if she doesn't make it, the whole thing was pointless. So, in order to make it, she makes everyone around her miserable. My 30-ish self would have understood that. My 60-ish self kept asking, "Why? What difference does it make if you don't make the 1 year goal, or even if you don't finish it at all?"
When I started my project, I didn't even attempt a time-line. This is for fun. This is for the pleasure of the experience. I can accept that I may not complete the book. There are things I don't like to eat, and so I won't. There will be recipes that I will make often and others I will never make again. I have hundreds of other cookbooks, and I'm happy that beginning this project has inspired me to get back to using them and cooking more often and cooking better food. It's made me re-remember that I really love feeding people.
I can still get ramped up. I just try harder not to. Yesterday I planned to make 2 kinds of cookies, Mexican chicken & rice soup, and the chicken pot pie from the Ad Hoc Cookbook. The soup was easy, although I don't know what happened there. It doesn't look very good. Way too much rice, for one thing. It needs more work. The chicken pot pie took the rest of the day and the cookies vanished from the radar screen. I didn't freak out. I didn't stay up till all hours and exhaust myself. I accepted that the cookies would happen another day. They were for a get-together today. I just whipped up a quick cheese spread to take instead. At 30, this would have been crazy time.
Reading the book, I kept wanting to put my arms around Julie and saying, "It's ok. Relax." It made me remember. Thirty is feeling not quite good enough. It's feeling you have something to prove. It's feeling that everyone's opinion of you is more important than your own. It's wanting everyone to like you. Sixty is knowing you're good enough just as you are. It's liking yourself. It's knowing who you are. It's enjoying the people who like you and knowing it's ok if everyone doesn't. At 60, you can start a project and then just simply change your mind. You're in charge. You get to decide. You realize that nothing is worth making everyone around you miserable. I like 60 better.
When I started my project, I didn't even attempt a time-line. This is for fun. This is for the pleasure of the experience. I can accept that I may not complete the book. There are things I don't like to eat, and so I won't. There will be recipes that I will make often and others I will never make again. I have hundreds of other cookbooks, and I'm happy that beginning this project has inspired me to get back to using them and cooking more often and cooking better food. It's made me re-remember that I really love feeding people.
I can still get ramped up. I just try harder not to. Yesterday I planned to make 2 kinds of cookies, Mexican chicken & rice soup, and the chicken pot pie from the Ad Hoc Cookbook. The soup was easy, although I don't know what happened there. It doesn't look very good. Way too much rice, for one thing. It needs more work. The chicken pot pie took the rest of the day and the cookies vanished from the radar screen. I didn't freak out. I didn't stay up till all hours and exhaust myself. I accepted that the cookies would happen another day. They were for a get-together today. I just whipped up a quick cheese spread to take instead. At 30, this would have been crazy time.
Reading the book, I kept wanting to put my arms around Julie and saying, "It's ok. Relax." It made me remember. Thirty is feeling not quite good enough. It's feeling you have something to prove. It's feeling that everyone's opinion of you is more important than your own. It's wanting everyone to like you. Sixty is knowing you're good enough just as you are. It's liking yourself. It's knowing who you are. It's enjoying the people who like you and knowing it's ok if everyone doesn't. At 60, you can start a project and then just simply change your mind. You're in charge. You get to decide. You realize that nothing is worth making everyone around you miserable. I like 60 better.
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