I Am a Verb

I’ve had several variations on the same conversation over the past few years.

IRL I have ‘passing privilege’. I ‘pass’ as straight. I ‘pass’ as cis. I ‘pass’ as monogamous’.  Sometimes I even ‘pass’ as neurotypical. Except that for me, it doesn’t feel like a privilege, it feels like another version of being closeted. And this closet, I couldn’t get out of.

I’m not going to get into details. This is background stuff for what I want to talk about today. Suffice to say, that for a long time I couldn’t think of anything I could do that folks around me wouldn’t read as ‘normative, straight, cis, etc’ except, like, getting Pride pins and bumper stickers and such.

And the thing I said so many times over the last year “That’s not me.”

I’ve never liked pins and patches and such. Bumper stickers, I hate how they look. I mean, I’ve seen some good ones. I enjoy reading them driving down the highway. But not on my car please.

Jewelry? Well… no.

Flashback: Exploring Kabbalah

Nearly 20 years ago now, when I was getting comfortable claiming the identity of “Jew”, I dipped my toe into Kabbalah. One of the first books on kabbalah I read was God Is a Verb by David A Cooper. Highly recommend it just for the way it fucks with the Christian-hegemonic view of God so many folks grew up with.

God, Cooper says, is a verb. God is not a thing, not static, God is rightly God-ing. And when we explore spiritual things and try to follow the Tree of Life and just try to be good people in our day to day lives, we are practicing God-ing. God is an action, a process, a never-beginning-and-never-ending-always-doing.

In English, we are good at verbing our nouns. That’s why we can say we ‘googled’ something. And there are some nouns that can completely change our understanding why we verb them.

God is a verb.

Love is a verb.

Consent (as I said in Safer Sex for the Non-Monogamous) is a verb.

I Am a Verb

When I said, ‘that’s not me,’ I was treating myself, my identity as a static thing. Unchanging. Out of my control.

It’s true that there are somethings about me that are out of my control. I can’t decide not to be autistic, or white, or to not have bipolar. I can never learn how to not be an abuse survivor.

The past, and the experiences and actions it leaves us with, are unchanging.

But I am not. I am a verb. I am I-ing, Jess-ing. Me-ing, if you prefer. I don’t like it tying it to closely to my name, because names are only identifiers, not identities. And it is possible my name will change. And there may be people reading this who desperately want to change their names.

But whatever you want to call it, I am doing it, living it, being it.

I am a verb.

Out of the Box

I remember thinking, ‘maybe I can get a Pride pin to put on my teek. Stretch my comfort zone a bit, right?

Almost before I finished the thought, I was mentally face-palming.

I was already planning on getting a kippah, because I wanted at least one headcovering that would be ‘read’ as religious (unlike my more usual baseball-style caps or my ‘dressing up’ snood). I had just finished making myself a cowl. I was planning to make myself a shawl.

Why was I fretting over not having normative ways of signalling my anormativetly? Why was a thinking about maybe looking for a Pride pin — when I can wrap myself up in my hand-made Pride flag! (aka shawl)

And if I’m looking to get a kippah, surely there will be one somewhere with an infinity heart on it. Or someone on Etsy I can pay to make one with a rainbow infinity.

Oh, hey! Seek and ye shall find:

Rainbow kippah with “BLM” and black power first cross-stitched into the center.

I already spent my birthday money for the month, so I can’t snatch this one up. But definitely going to be watching that seller in the future.

Or find a crochet pattern for a kippah. Something like that.

By believing that I am static and closing my mind to the possibility of doing something new, be-ing something new, I also closed my mind to all the possibilities of change and growth within the things I am already doing and being.

I don’t plan on forgetting that lesson anytime soon!

What About You? Are You You-ing?

 

Donation Pledge: Supporting The Okra Project

The world is pretty fucked up. Some of us are just realizing how fucked up it is, but some have been trying to survive the fuck up for a long time now. Black trans folks are among those hit hardest by the FUBAR that is our world.

For that reason, for the next 3 months I will be donating 10% of my book profits & Patreon pledges to The Okra Project.

The Okra Project

The Okra Project is working to bring food — specifically “free, delicious, and nutritious meals” to black trans folks who are food insecure.

You can read the details on the website. They have several different initiatives going, and they are all pretty cool.

But why not donate to…?

There are literally hundreds of organizations I could donate to right now, all doing amazing and necessary work. I picked the Okra Project partly because they really are doing good work that should be supported. But partly in the spirit of tzedakah.

Tzedakah is a Jewish term that is usually translated as ‘charity’, but would be better translated as ‘responsibility’. We all have a responsibility to our communities. We need to give b ack to our communities. And the highest spirit of tzedakah is to give without knowing, without judging, give to the first person you see because you don’t know who needs most and it isn’t your place to judge.

My family tries to give tzedakah each month. We give to the first person who asks, whether it’s a go fund me drive or a personal plea or whatever.

I had to idea to do this pledge, but didn’t know who to give to. I was spinning myself into a meltdown trying to Google this, and remember that… when a call for donations to The Okra Project came across my feed.

So, tzedakah.

Going Forward

I’m not sure what I’ll do after 3 months. I’m leaning towards finding another org to donate to for the next 3 months. There are, as I said, so many orgs doing so much good work.

In the mean time, Polyamory and Kink is up for pre-order on Amazon and a couple other etailers. Now’s a good time to check it out.

My Autistic Sexuality, Part 1

I’ve never seen anything, anywhere, about being sexual as an autistic person. And I’ve noticed (as a frequent reader of romances and sex blogs) that the way other folks talk about sex is very very different from my needs and experiences. My sexuality is different from anything I’ve heard of. And it’s time we start talking about autistic sexuality.

MY Autistic Sexuality

This is my autistic sexuality, okay? Not necessarily anyone else’s. A lot of it relates to tactile hypersensitivity. So autistic folks who are mainly hypersensitive in, say, their hearing or smell, and hyposensitive to touch will have very different experiences. But when I mentioned writing this earlier today to a friend who is also autistic and hypersensitive, we shared a ‘Hell yes!’ moment. So it’s not JUST me.

I originally started writing this for my partners. Because talking about sex is still really hard for me (partly for reasons covered below). Friday, I was reminded of my old (and sort-of-ongoing) desire to get into sex blogging. How I wanted to talk about my sexuality in hopes of connecting with others who shared it and sparing folks the years of ‘what-the-fuck-is-wrong-with-me’ that I went through figuring all this out.

I can’t write about sex on a regular basis (again, partly for reasons below). But I could take this writing, that I need to do anyway, and share it.

Part one is about arousal and the before-we-get-to-sex stuff (mostly). Part 2, which I will hopefully be able to write in time for next week’s post, will be the actual sex stuff.

So here you go.

Part 1: My Autistic Arousal (mostly)

  1. I live in near-constant dissociation. This is how I handle my hypersensitivity. But it often makes me oblivious to stuff going on in my body. Stuff like arousal. For whatever reason, my mind interprets the physical signs of arousal as itchiness. If you see me scratching my crotch, I am likely aroused and either unaware of it or don’t feel I can do anything about it.
    My arousal almost always starts in my body. But it’s started by my brain. Words. Okay, touch never makes me aroused. I think it’s because of how hard I disassociate but I’m not sure. Pictures and books are the most common instigators. Sometimes my own writing or thoughts. But if I’m not aware of being aroused and I don’t feel aroused? I just get itchy. It takes an active effort for me to release the disassociation and feel the arousal.
    Maybe. Or it may be that I don’t have instigators for arousal as-such, and it’s just that I’m interested in pictures/books/etc when well…
  2. I seem to get aroused on a schedule, probably hormone related. About every two weeks, I get aroused, and it gets stronger over time unless I do something about it. If I don’t do anything it seems to fade after 3 to 5 days.
  3. Being aroused and being in dissociation usually triggers anxiety. It can lead to panic attacks but…
  4. If the anxiety goes long enough, usually the arousal ‘gets bad’. I think this is hitting some residual trauma stuff, but it might be a hypersensitivity thing — over stimulation. Or both combined. I don’t have the right words to describe what it feels like in my head. But any skin-to-skin contact starts to feel bad in a very specific way. Erotic contact is worse. And my arousal starts to feel bad in that way — like, if I make the effort to drop the dissociation and let myself feel the arousal, it feels bad in this way.
    Whether or not this problem starts from trauma, it will definitely pull up trauma stuff if it goes on long enough.
  5. If I can dissociate myself heavily enough and get busy doing something that distracts me, the badness will usually go away. Sometimes it just stays til the arousal goes away. Which (see above) can take a while.
  6. Sometimes things can start to ‘go bad’ during sexual activity. Still haven’t fully figured this out, but overthinking is definitely a sign it’s coming/trigger. Usually can’t come back from this but recently Michael has been able to pull me back from the ‘bad’ so we can continue. I don’t know how she did it.
  7. If I realize it’s starting to go bad before it does, sometimes pain helps bring me back.
  8. I can’t stop being aroused except for positive sexual activity. Once the arousal hits, especially the hormone-induced arousal, there’s nothing I can do but ride it out. No cold shower or equivalent that can make me stop being aroused. Doing sex will stop the arousal, at least temporarily. The better the sex, the longer the arousal stops. Sometimes it’ll be just a few hours, especially if things ‘go bad’. If I’m lucky, it’ll be good enough to shut down the arousal until the hormone period passes.
  9. If I’m lucky, because while I do like sex as a thing, it gets REALLY FUCKING ANNOYING to have my body demanding sex whether I’m healthy enough, in the mood, have time, have privacy, etc etc. and if I don’t do something my mind will punish me for it.
  10. Like, the first time each round, I’m usually excited and into. After the second or third time, I’m ANNOYED and want it to be over so I can get on with my life.
  11.  I’ve seen a couple of places selling tiny dildos, like fit-inside-you-and-disappear things. And that’s like my holy grail of dildos, because when the itching starts, I could put it in and it would give me just enough stimulation to pulling me out of dissociation without overwhelming me. That would keep the anxiety from kicking in (see point 4), hopefully long enough for good sexy times to happen.
    1.  Just as a random, completely  irrelevant note, my birthday is coming up. 😉

So yeah, that’s it for now. Hopefully I can follow up next week with the sex part of my autistic sexuality.

We Don’t Know

We don’t know.

I hate liminal times. It seems I have been stuck in a series of liminal times since January. Always between where I was and will be and not knowing what I will find on the other side. Not even knowing which direction I should take. Stuck in the middle — go forward or go back, I could handle. But no, stuck in the middle, in the doorway, not knowing.

I’ve always said that I can change directions as many times as I need to as long as I know which direction I need to go right now. And I don’t, and I haven’t, and I don’t even know how to figure it out.

I thought I was done. I thought I knew, that things had been settled, I know what is happening. And just as one liminal time got resolved, another opened up and I’m back to not knowing, being stuck.

We don’t know how we will serve god until we get there — well and good. But I don’t even know where ‘there’ is right now, where am I supposed to going to? Which way is the desert where I go to serve god? How do I find it? Will I even know when I get there.

Fucking liminal times.

 

Yesterday I took part in a Zoom-conference “Torah, Poetry, and Chant” meeting run by my synagogue and led by our rabbi. The meeting included a chant and journaling based on a line from Exodus :

שָׁמּ ָ הבּ ֹאֵ נוּעַד ’האֶ תנַּעֲב ֹדמַ הנֵדַ עלֹא

Lo-nayda mah-na’avod et-Yah ad-bo’aynu sham

We don’t know how we will serve YHVH until we get there (Exodus 10:26).

It just really sums up everything right now.

Black History Reading List

I generally don’t say much about Black History Month because I figure it’s a time for me to shut up and listen. But on the subject of shutting up and listening, I figured I’d share a my black history reading list. Hot take: white folks who aren’t at least familiar with the titles and authors on this list probably don’t know enough about black history and experience to be talking about it.

Narrative of Sojourner Truth

Kindred by Octavia Butler

Souls of Black Folk by W.E.B duBois

Hidden Figures by Margot Lee Shetterly

Why We Can’t Wait by Dr. Martin Luther King jr.

Autobiography of Malcolm X

The Mary McLeod Bethune Papers or anything by Bethune

Assata: An autobiography

My Grandfather’s Son by Clarence Thomas

The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander

If you can, start reading these or other book about black history and experience by black authors. If not, at least take some time to Google the titles and authors you aren’t familiar with and read a bit about them and their work.

Brief Updates on Lots of Stuff

It’s been a overwhelming month. Lots of stuff, both good and bad. Here’s the round up of what’s been going on with my various life goals.

My Bookshelf: I’ve started getting back responses from beta readers for Polyamory and Kink. As usual, the folks doing beta reads have some great comments and suggestions and pin pointed some areas I missed.

Old ‘Woman’: I’ve made some real progress in reliable self care. The 99 Coping Skills list is an awesome you should check out if you need self care ideas. I’m also doing better at staying in touch with family and friends and making progress on compiling my to-read list instead of just having a pile of books in various places. Also… last week was the anniversary of my mother’s death. Lots of thoughts, probably make a blog post next week.

Generational Home: There may be some very big news on this in the next few months. Dilip Numetor Amelia Chetana Waller, Michael and I will be going on a trip the end of February, and if all goes well our plans for living together will jump ahead several years.

The Farm: See above paragraph. If the February trip goes well, I’ll share some details when we get back. My indoor gardening is on hold until we know for sure what’s happening.

Cuil Press: Once Upon a Green Rose is out on Amazon, and for the first time we enroleld a book in Kindle Unlimited. We really don’t like the whole walled-garden thing Amazon has going, but we also want to make our books accessible and, you know, at least break even. So we’re experimenting. Green Rose will be in KU for 2 enrollment periods, then we’ll pull it and put it up on other booksellers.

As always, drafts of my books are available on Patreon.

So if you want to read Polyamory and Kink before next summer, become a Patron.

5 Books to Understand Me

I usually don’t do list posts, but this idea grabbed me. 5 books you’d give your partner to help them understand you. Idea came across my twitter feed from @Nicole_Cliffe@twitter.com and I immediately started figuring out what my five are.

You might have seen me share the list on Twitter and Fedi, but I thought it might be fun to share a bit about why I picked these five.

My 5 Books

The Sabbath by Heschel
Their Troublesome Crush by West
Planting Life by Mahler*
Mother of Demons by Flint
Deerskin by Mckinley

The Sabbath by Abraham Joshua Heschel

Heschel’s work is usually found on any list of ‘books to read to learn about Judaism’. If the list is for ‘Judaism in the 20th century’ it will be at the top.

The Sabbath explores the relationships between time, space, and humanity, with an emphasis on how Judaism is a religion of time, and the Sabbath a counterweight to the daily-life emphasis on controlling space. I think it would help a new partner understand not just my relationship with my faith, but how I have come to approach and view many things in daily life.

Their Troublesome Crush by Xan West

This novella about an autistic enby exploring a new kinky relationship with xir metamour was the first time I was ever jealous of a fictional character. Not for that specific relationship, but for the queer, Jewish, kinky, polyamorous family they were part of.

If I could create my perfect family, it would be very like the family in this book.

Planting Life in a Dying City by Jess Mahler

Okay, yeah, it isn’t published yet. Or even fully written. But it’s my book so I can always share the draft, right?

Anyway, in some ways Planting Life, even more than I, is my exploration of the meaning and importance of family.

Some years ago, I read a piece by Lois Bujold about how each story in the Vorkosigan saga is a meditation on a different aspect of parenthood. I think like the theme of parenthood for Bujold, the theme of family will be foundational to just about all of my longer fiction. But I think Planting Life conveys that theme and the meaning behind it better than anything else I’ve done so far..

Mother of Demons by Eric Flint

I really debated this one or A Hat Full of Sky by Terry Pratchett. But where Tiffany Aching helped me better understand myself, Indira Toledo shaped and largely reflects how I see and understand the world. I’ve already got 3 books about who I am, a look at how I perceive the world around me is a good one for folks who are going to be in my life.

For all Flint’s flaws (and he has several) he has a wonderful way of making clear the interconnections of history, culture, and belief. Learning to see those connections, largely through Flint’s work, has been a major formative factor in how I relate to the world around me.

Deerskin by Robin McKinley

Like it or not (and I don’t), trauma has had a major impact in my life. Deerskin is not just a beautiful story, and a heartrending exploration of trauma and the path of healing. It’s also the book I turned to year after year when I needed a reminder that the trauma is mine, but the sin and shame and guilt and hatefulness is not. That those things belong to the ones who traumatized me. That I deserve to reject those things, to live my life free of them and happy with who I am — even if the trauma keeps me from running as freely as I once did.

I highly recommend it to anyone struggling with their own trauma and healing.

I am Not Superhuman (And I finally realized it)

There are only so many hours in a day. And given my general spooniness, I have less useful hours than actually exist.
Unfortunately, the things I want/need to do are excessive for my hours-available.

I reached a point several years ago where I couldn’t cut down my to-do list any further without unacceptable sacrifices. Some things simply can’t be cut out. Stuff like housework, laundry, food, medical stuff, kids’ school…

Other stuff, in theory, can be cut, but only by harming other people. Stuff like time with kids, or helping Michael with hygiene stuff, or driving Ericka to doctor’s appointments.

Then there’s the stuff that people I cut out of my life would tell me I should cut. Stuff like my writing, or this blog, or studying Spanish and Hebrew, or my exercise goals (no, I don’t need to be able to walk 4 miles or jog one mile without getting winded. I want to.) Or if I gave up keeping Shabbat, which would give me 24 more hours a week to get shit done… But I get to have stuff for me. I get to say “No, my life will not revolve around chores and taking care of other people. I get to take care of myself and my needs — emotional and spiritual as well as physical.”

But…

there are still only so many hours in the day.

A Tangent Into Kink Adjacent Territory

Folks familiar with the online femdom community may be familiar with Ferns. Not as many folks will know that Ferns is something of a health nut and regularly corrals her friends and followers on twitter into various exercise pledges, ‘workout crews’ and other peer-pressure based stuff to get everyone off their butts and exercising. (She claims she does this because she needs the encouragement, but I think she just enjoys having an excuse to yell at folks for not doing what they are supposed to.) Since I’ve been trying to exercise more and get in shape for… honestly over a decade now, I’ve repeatedly let myself be roped in.

Most recently, she was talking about a twelve-week exercise challenge. And I distinctly remember telling her that by trying to complete one of her challenges (again) I was demonstrating the definition of insanity.

She laughed and said something to the effect that it never hurts to try or good on me for keeping trying or something like that.

Well, I made it through October. That’s something. But come November, something changed. It was becoming harder and harder to get myself out and exercising.

But! I was finally finding the energy to do actual cooked meals again for dinner. And making real progress on cleaning out the front closet.

Oh, and the bedroom finally got rearranged so I can use the dang bed again!

However, I didn’t put two and two together.

At one point, I was metaphorically crying on Ferns’ shoulder about how frustrating it was to be constantly ‘falling off the wagon.’ She encouraged me to keep trying, that I only had to get in a few more exercise sessions that week and I’d be okay. But also said that I had done well to get as far in the challenge as I did and that it’s okay if I need to drop out.

Something she said sparked a realization and I said, “I guess I expect myself to be superhuman.”

I Am Not Superhuman — but it feel like I need to be

I can’t do it all. I can’t do the cooked meals and walk 2+ miles a day and do Kid 1’s school, and the housework, and take care of myself, and and and and…

But I can’t stop doing any of those things either. Not and be, well, me.

So without realizing it, without noticing it, I came up with a sorta-system that sorta works. Some stuff, like school and medical stuff and a minimal level of food on the table, is always a priority. Everything else? Cycles. I barely wrote anything for several months, coinciding with when the school year started. As I adjusted to the school year, I started writing again, but meals and cleaning suffered. I started cooking and cleaning again, and no longer had the energy to exercise.

I did try to push through and keep exercising. Ferns really is good at the motivation thing. But when we all got sick and Kid 1 spent an entire night throwing up, I read the writing on the wall. I didn’t even try to exercise that week and have only gotten in a few half-assed workouts since then. But I know I’ll come back to it, probably after I’ve caught up with the laundry and made some progress on my Spanish lessons.

Or not.

One way or another, it’ll come around again eventually.

I think I’ve finally accepted that.

I’m not superhuman. I can’t do it all at once. But I am actually managing to do it all, after a fashion. And that’s just so thoroughly… me.

*Normally I wouldn’t discuss someone else on my blog without asking their okay first. But all the stuff re Ferns is public on our Twitter profiles. Plus, if you are interested in femdom D/s (or any D/s, IMO), she has awesome stuff and you should check her out. Here’s her website: https://www.domme-chronicles.com/

I am who I want to be (and that surprised me)

A couple of days ago there was a lot of talk on Twitter about autistic masking, and one corner of the discussion focused on how hard it can be to find yourself after you’ve masked for so long you forget who you are under the mask. During that discussion, I became consciously aware of something that I had been slowly recognizing for a while now.

Okay, if you missed the backstory, in January I did a series of posts about life goals. One of those posts was When I Grow Up I Want to Be HER. I acknowledged at the end of that post that,

It embraces things which have always been core to me–family, connecting with and learning from people, taking care of folks I love, music, being a home-body, not liking in-person socializing. But it also challenges me to grow, not into something different, but into a more capable, confident, comfortable version of who I am now.

But I still saw ‘her’ as someone I needed to grow into, and I realized, that’s not it.

I already am ‘her’

Or at least, I would be her, right now, almost no growing required, if I had the resources and health to do everything I’m already trying to do right now. I am the center pole of my family. I am in contact with friends across the country as often as my health and sanity allow and the only reason I haven’t pursued a closer connection with some folks I know across the globe is our mutual health and spoons makes it difficult to stay in touch beyond an occasionally ‘glad you are still alive.’ My home is as full of books and music and fresh baking and everything else I want as I can manage. I even got a bread machine so I can always have fresh bread, whether or not I have the sanity to manage the kneading/rising cycle myself.

Everything I wrote about wanting to do or have — I am doing and do have to the best of my ability right now. And if I had the resources (primarily money and health), I’d be doing even more.

So… yeah.

Growing into me

The biggest differences between who I am and who I want to be mainly come down to experience and confidence. And, well, you get confidence from experience.

It’s the first time in my life that I can say, I am who I want to be. I still have a lot of healing and growing to do. But I am the person I always want to grow into. That’s…

Seriously awesome and kind of scary. Because that means it’s time to stop working towards a future self, and start focusing on being who I am today to the best of my ability.

Or, to pull out an old cliche, time to spread my wings and fly.

It’s gonna be epic.

In, you know, a down home, introverted, fresh bread and butter kind of way.

Adventures in Zucchini Bread

We got a couple of zucchini from the foodbank last week. Initially, I had images of salads, stir fries, maybe breaded and deep fried… there are so many things you can do with zucchini. But two things came together to change that plan. First, I was still recovering from burn out and just didn’t have the energy to stand over the stove. Second, we were out of bread. So yesterday afternoon I popped on the internet to find some good zucchini bread recipes.

I found a few that looked promising, in particular, one yeast bread meant for bread machines and one quick bread. Based on the amount of zucchini we had (all of it starting to get a bit spotty), we went ahead and made both recipes. Unfortunately, I, ah, kinda forgot to read each recipe through in detail before we started.

When meant that my network on the Fediverse got to see my rant midafternoon yesterday:

zucchini bread rant
Seriously!

While I was measuring out a ridiculous amount of sugar, Michael was adding grated-zucchini-gone-yellow, rosemary, and yeast, to the bread machine.

Eventually we got everything finished and started cooking. The quick ‘bread’ finished before the yeast bread (obviously). I let it cool a bit then dumped it out of the pan. I will say that it baked well, nice solid loaf that came out of the pan cleanly and held together well. But it looked way more like carrot cake than any bread I’ve ever eaten.

Michael got the first slice and declared it delicious, and rather like pumpkin bread. (I’ve never had pumpkin bread, but took a quick look at the recipe. Another ‘bread’ with a ridiculous amount of sugar, clearly meant as a snack or dessert. I repeat THIS IS NOT BREAD!!!!) Kidling and I split a slice between us and… yeah. neither of us took more than a bite each. For me, the taste was okay, but the texture was just impossible. Don’t know what kidling’s issue was, but kidling eats just about anything we put in front of her, so her not liking it was a thing.

Michael finished the last of our slices, the rest is wrapped in the fridge to be shared with friends and family so Michael doesn’t end up eating the whole thing on her own.

The yeast bread didn’t finish until late and just got wrapped up until morning when I decided to try a slice for breakfast.

My first thought when I sliced it open was ‘am I having a memory blip?’ This zucchini bread just looks like bread. No sign of zucchini or rosemary. Just a regular slightly-lighter-than-usual whole wheat bread. I want the flavor as ‘natural’ as possible, and I need to go food shopping anyway, so I keep it simple, some butter slathered on top and some raisins on the side.

OMG. This bread.

This is just moist enough, somewhere between fluffy and chewy, with a subtle savory flavor that…. UMMM.

I can probably give this bread to Kid 1, who is notoriously picky, and he won’t even notice it isn’t ‘normal’ bread. I can use it as sandwich bread, toast, bread crumbs, for dipping in soup, all the ‘usual’ bread stuff. (Which is exactly what I wanted.) And it’ll actually be better. Not ‘practically eating air’ with store bought bread. Not ‘so chewy you get your exercise eating’ with regular whole wheat bread. And better tasting than either. Just… yum. *happy sigh*

According to the recipe site, it you figure the cost of the ingredients, this zucchini bread is $2.49 per loaf. Which means even with the zucchini and rosemary and sesame seeds (and those last two are pretty damn expensive per pound) it’s still cheaper than store bought. Not as cheap as a regular whole wheat loaf (for comparison, a basic whole wheat bread from the same site is listed as being until $2). But still cheaper, while being healthier, better tasting, and easy to make.

Win-win-win.

*happy sigh* Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some bread to eat.