Midweek reminder: Bear yourself up on small wings

Morning Song

Here, I place
a blue glazed cup
where the wood
is slightly whitened.
Here, I lay down
two bright spoons,
our breakfast saucers, napkins
white and smooth as milk.

I am stirring at the sink,
I am stirring
the amount of dew
you can gather in two hands,
folding it into the fragile
quiet of the house.
Before the eggs,
before the coffee
heaving like a warm cat,
I step out to the feeder –
one foot, then the other,
alive on wet blades.
Air lifts my gown – I might fly –

This thistle seed I pour
is for the tiny birds.
This ritual,
for all things frail
and imperiled.
Wings surround me, frothing
the air. I am struck
by what becomes holy.

A woman
who lost her teenage child
to an illness without mercy,
said that at the end, her daughter
sat up in her hospital bed
and asked:
What should I do?
What should I do?

Into a white enamel bath
I lower four brown eggs.
You fill the door frame,
warm and rumpled, kiss
the crown of my head.
I know how the topmost leaves
of dusty trees
feel at the advent
of the monsoon rains.

I carry the woman with the lost child
in my pocket, where she murmurs
her love song without end:
Just this, each day:
Bear yourself up on small wings
to receive what is given.
Feed one another
with such tenderness,
it could almost be an answer.
-Marcia F. Brown

’m writing this while sitting at the ferry terminal in Seattle, waiting to go across the ocean to Bainbridge Island. I love the ferries, even though on this particular evening we seem to have missed a ferry by about 10-15 minutes and thus will be sitting and watching other people leave and waiting for our ferry IN AN HOUR. Obviously I have some work to do to become a ferry person… a relaxed and mellow ferry-riding person…

I’m grateful that even though we’re sitting and waiting for the ferry, we’re sitting and waiting for the ferry. That means we’re a) not at home, and b) on vacation. And also, I’m grateful that the three of us are together. How joyful is that? Pretty dang joyful, I tell you. Singing songs from The Sound of Music joyful. Yes, you heard right.

I’m grateful for sunshine, even though it’s shining through a dirty windshield.

I’m grateful for people who are willing to say “Yes, we can get this done.” Even if it’s a steep request. And then, they figure out how to get it done. That’s rare, and I am so grateful when I do encounter that attitude.

My friend Jen got word today that she has more four more chemo treatments to go. What? Her last one was supposed to be in October. What does this mean? I don’t know, but I’m annoyed right now that someone somewhere (OK, an oncologist, but still) thinks she needs them and that she’s been blindsided by this. If I have to look for the silver lining, which you know, I do, I'm grateful that chemo exists and that she’s getting that tumor obliterated. But for a little while today, I was steamed.

I’m grateful for refrigerators. And ovens, even stovetops... especially dishwashers! I am so glad I don’t live in a time of ice houses (or simply no refrigeration) and wood stoves or (help me) open fires. I like the comforts of my kitchen very much.

I’m grateful to live in a time when my diet can be varied and adventurous, and while I do try and eat as local as possible, if I want an avocado or figs or grapefruits (things that simply don’t grow in my region, ever), I can find them easily.

I’m grateful for empathy. Sometimes I really hate the sensation of being able to feel someone else’s pain, but then I think that I’m glad I have that, because NOT having it would be a lot worse.

I’m grateful to live in the country, where if I choose (and I DO) to sing while mowing my lawn, it goes mostly unheard.

I’m grateful that the garden is still producing, even though the nights are so cool…

I’m grateful for fall weather and hopeful that it will go on like this for a few more weeks.

I’m grateful that my knees are feeling stronger, and that husband has an old weight set that is helping in that process. It reminds me that I should be using that contraption more often!

I’m grateful for my wordy girls and our casual but determined commitment to writing more consistently.

I saw this quote this week and it kind of summed up the past couple of weeks around here:
“Let us rise up and be thankful, for if we didn’t learn a lot at least we learned a little, and if we didn’t learn a little, at least we didn’t get sick, and if we got sick, at least we didn’t die; so, let us all be thankful.” - Siddhārtha Gautama

Yep, that kind of says it. Carry on. Love each other. Or as Garrison Keillor likes to say, “Do good work, stay in touch.”

Considering other options besides Thursday 13...

ot sure what's up with Thursday 13, but the site's been static for the past couple of weeks. I get all twitchy and worry that something's amiss, but I am going to trust that all is well and it will be back when it's back. Life can get a little wild some days, I know... It's hard enough keeping one blog going, let alone managing a couple of them and having 50, 60, 80 other bloggers waiting with eagerness on Wednesday night for the Mr. Linky to be up!

Anyway, for this week, I thought I'd do the daybook approach... handily, I think there are 13 little starting points to share with you what's up in my world.

1. Outside my window... the lawn is freshly mowed and green green green. The rain of the past couple of weeks has really helped in that regard!

2. I am thinking... that I really need to get moving. Lots going on today, lots of need to change gears quickly and keep moving. So I will definitely need more than one cup of coffee, absolutely.

3. I am thankful for... so many things. But daily, I am reminded that technology is so helpful in staying connected. Here's a text my son sent last night. A text with a link, but still... Love that kid.



4. From the kitchen... I smell basil. Just picked the very last of the garden bounty and pulled the leaves off, last night.

5. I am wearing... my fuzzy robe and slippers. It's early, give me a break. I'll get my act together, soon enough.

6. I am creating... not a lot right now. Havoc? Mayhem? Maybe.

7. I am going... to have a busy, crazy day. Back to back meetings and appointments, and then a cross-country meet for Seth in the afternoon. Local, whew. No crazy driving two hours to watch 20 minutes of running. Silly, that.

8. I am reading... Isaiah and Esther; talk about a double dose of Old Testament. Not usually my thing, but we'll see... And the same Girl book I was reading last time I wrote in the day book... The Girl who Played with Fire. Need to bust out some book time, which has just not happened the past couple of weeks...

9. I am hoping... my husband's cough gets better soon. Not so much for me, as for him. Hate to see him not feeling 100%.

10. I am hearing... just the sound of my own little fingers on the keyboard. Peaceful.

11. Around the house... I really want my orchids to bloom again. I live in fear of killing them, and I think they sense that, so they are somehow shy. Or dying. One of the two..

12. One of my favorite things... is sleeping. I just love a good night's sleep.

13. A few plans for the rest of the week... This week feels pretty much locked up. Solid. We hit the road for Seattle on Friday noon, and away we goooooo! (Knock on wood. We've been really dicey with trip plans around here lately, so I'll believe it when my feet are on the dash and XM Radio is playing the family comedy channel. Kidding, Kim. We're coming, really we are!)

And I'm outta here. Running for the day!

If you'd like to do the daybook concept as well, go here! And of course, Thursday 13 is still here, but it's kinda quiet, so far today...

Midweek reminder: Only kindness ties your shoes

Kindness

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness,
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.

Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to mail letters and
purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
-Naomi Shihab Nye

Candied nuts: You'll never want a salad without them again

uts, glorious nuts. In almost any form, I like the nuts: hazelnuts, walnuts, almonds, pecans, pine nuts... they add fabulous flavor and crunch to so very many different dishes.

It had been some time since I'd last made candied nuts... there was a time when I whipped these babies up in giant catering-style batches--eight, 10, 12 (OK, truthfully it was more like 20) cups of nuts at a time, that I would use for events--lunches, dinners, weddings, etc.

But a couple of weeks ago we were having dinner with friends and our hostess wanted to have candied nuts on the salad--she was working with just sugar as the sweetener and it wasn't melting adequately in the oven, at least not in the way that it does on the stovetop... which made me remember this recipe, where the corn syrup and sugar melt together in a happy marriage of sweet and sweet. That night, we added the syrup, popped the nuts back in the oven, and 15 minutes later had wonderful candied nuts for our salad!

This week a little shipment of figs found its way to our fair town, and the first thing I that crossed my mind was a salad of greens, figs, chevre, and of course, candied hazelnuts. I fired up the oven and in short order, the glorious smell of toasted nuts filled the house!

Candied nuts
Nonstick vegetable oil spray
3 tablespoons light corn syrup
1 1/2 tablespoons sugar
3/4 teaspoon salt
1/4 teaspoon (generous) freshly ground black pepper
1/8 teaspoon cayenne pepper (optional)
1 1/2 cups pecan pieces (or hazelnut, or walnut, or...)

Preheat oven to 325°F. Spray baking sheet with nonstick spray. Combine corn syrup and next four ingredients in large bowl. Stir to blend. Add nuts; stir gently to coat. Transfer to baking sheet.

Place large piece of foil on work surface. Bake nuts 5 minutes. Using fork, stir nuts to coat with melted spice mixture. Continue baking until nuts are golden and coating bubbles, about 10 minutes. Transfer to foil. Working quickly, separate nuts with fork. Cool. (Can be made 3 days ahead. Store airtight at room temperature.)

And enjoy, enjoy, enjoy!

riday night comes around, even on grumpy weeks, or hard weeks, or boring weeks (not that this was any one of those weeks... well, maybe a little bit grumpy, a tiny bit hard, but in no way was it boring). But, it doesn't seem to take too long to get under the surface of that other stuff and find the grateful.

*I'm grateful for breath. For breathing in and breathing out, and maybe even having the good sense to make them deep breaths on occasion. For the ability to still push my body to do things it doesn't want to do, and for the wisdom (that comes with age, it seems) to know when to back off, too.

*I'm grateful for the ability to articulate my thoughts and feelings, and be understood by others (mostly). I am sad for those who are frustrated in communication--I think I understand how tough that could be.

*I'm blessed by so much love. And I'm grateful for that!

*I'm grateful for all my senses. Fall is such a great season for reawakening the senses; everything feels really clear and crisp, even as it's dying. Go figure. But after the muted sensations of summer--all that heat, for me at least--I love the cool air, the colors turning, the energy.

*I'm grateful for every moment with each of my loved ones. And I don't take it for granted. I try to leave my men every day with kind words and kisses, not knowing what the day will bring.

*I'm grateful to live in a community filled with people who care.

*I'm grateful for all kinds of communications, to keep in touch. Phone, email, texting, skype, instant messaging, Facebook, Twitter. It's amazing.

*I'm grateful for peace in the morning. A sunrise can cure so many worries that plague in the dark.

*I'm grateful to have friends who listen when I need to vent/rant. And I'm thrilled to be a friend who is available for reciprocal venting/ranting as well.

*I'm grateful for olive oil. Really *good* olive oil. I roasted my artichokes in them tonight, and oh that flavor adds so much.

*I'm grateful for humor. For laughter and giggles and chortles and those little sighs that follow a good laugh session. Even dark humor is good to have, when no other kind will do!

*Speaking of laughter, I'm grateful for Jim Gaffigan. Seth and I listened to him on our way back from the cross-country meet this week. Chortle, definitely. I'm a big fan of the bear segment around 2:20.



*I'm so grateful for the color orange. So cheerful, warm, energetic.  (And, I know, surprising. Trying to break up all the green love!)

*I'm grateful for figs (again and always). Had a serendipitous burst of fig activity this week and practically overdosed. Holla!

*So grateful for the weekend. For a little quiet time with husband, for extra sleep, for maybe even a nap (or two). For peace.

*I'm grateful for joy. And love. And celebrations. If you feel like you've been missing out on any of those things, watch this video for a hefty dose of all three.



What a great way to start the weekend! L'chaim!

Thursday 13: Thirteen soups I'm looking forward to making this fall

is soup season, and I'm happy for it. Even though we're still having warm and wonderful days, it's quite obvious that fall is all around us, and the craving for soups begins.

I have never been completely confident in my soup-making abilities. I think my throw-it-all-in-a-pot approach can work great sometimes, and then not so much at others. Lack 'o consistency, that's how I phrase it. So I have decided that THIS winter, I'll pay more attention to recipes and seasonings and try to really master the soup. In pondering the soups I'm most looking forward to making, I concocted a list of 13 (shocking, I know!)--some from this very blog, some from around the interwebs. Enjoy!

1. Cauliflower soup. There's a local restaurant that serves an amazing cauliflower soup--very rich (truffles, I think) and creamy (cream, of course). The recipe I linked to seems like a good start... I will have a flavorful time experimenting with this one, I think.

2. Megan's gingered pumpkin pear soup.

3. Lentil soup. I devoured a bowl of lentil soup already this fall at yet another local restaurant and it was sublime. The best I've ever had of the lentil variety. I have very little faith I'll actually be able to duplicate it, mostly because I was enraptured with eating it and not with figuring out what was in it. I guess maybe I'll have to go back for another bowl. Soon.

4. Corn chowder. Loving the idea of the chipotle in this recipe... I think that flavor would prove quite popular around here.

5. Tortilla soup. This is one I make all the time, but have yet to post here. Time to remedy that situation!

6. Roasted tomato soup. Found this yummy sounding recipe, and the best thing is the accompaniment to the soup--click on over and check it out. (Oh, the mystery! You know you want to.)

7. Borscht. I can't believe I haven't posted a recipe for borscht here before... I recently saw it written up in a great little book one of my aunts created of my Grandma's recipes, so there's really no excuse for not doing that, very soon.

8. Mushroom soup. I am torn between a creamy puree (below) or this one that looks more like a stroganoff... might have to make both!

9. Homemade noodle soup. This will make my son very happy. He loves this one in his thermos on a cold day.

10. French onion soup. I am ready for this smell to permeate the house! And the cheese, glorious cheese!

11. Roasted ratatouille soup. This just sounds like the best of summer in a bowl...

12. Thai pumpkin soup. In this recipe, pumpkin = butternut squash. I can do for that.

13. West African peanut soup.

Hope my list has you craving soup too! Now I just need to decide which one is first... what do you think? Let me know and I'll take it under advisement.

For more Thursday 13s, go here.

Thursday 13: Thirteen soups I'm looking forward to making this fall

is soup season, and I'm happy for it. Even though we're still having warm and wonderful days, it's quite obvious that fall is all around us, and the craving for soups begins.

I have never been completely confident in my soup-making abilities. I think my throw-it-all-in-a-pot approach can work great sometimes, and then not so much at others. Lack 'o consistency, I think that's what it's called. So I have decided that THIS winter, I'll pay more attention to recipes and seasonings and try to really master the soup.

In pondering soups I'm looking forward to making, I collected a list of 13--some from this very blog, some from around the interwebs. Enjoy!

1. Cauliflower soup. There's a local restaurant that serves an amazing cauliflower soup--very rich (truffle oil, I think) and creamy (cream, of course). The recipe I linked to seems like a good start... I will have a flavorful time experimenting with this one, I think.

2. Megan's gingered pumpkin pear soup.

3. Lentil soup. I devoured a bowl of lentil soup already this fall at yet another local restaurant and it was sublime. The best I've ever had of the lentil variety. I have very little faith I'll actually be able to duplicate it, mostly because I was enraptured with eating it and not with figuring out what was in it. I guess maybe I'll have to go back for another bowl. Soon.


4. Corn chowder. Loving the idea of the chipotle in this recipe... I think that flavor would prove quite popular around here.

5. Tortilla soup. This is one I make all the time, but have yet to post here. Time to remedy that situation!

6. Roasted tomato soup. Found this yummy sounding recipe, and the best thing is the accompaniment to the soup--click on over and check it out. (Oh, the mystery! You know you want to.)

7. Borscht. I can't believe I haven't posted a recipe for borscht (beet soup, in case it's not a part of your soup vocabulary) here before... I recently saw it written up in a great little book one of my aunts created of my Grandma's recipes, so there's really no excuse for not doing that, very soon.

8. Mushroom soup. I am torn between a creamy puree (below) or this one that looks more like a stroganoff... might have to make both!

9. Homemade noodle soup. This will make my son very happy. He loves this one in his thermos on a cold day.

10. French onion soup. I am ready for this smell to permeate the house! And the cheese, glorious cheese!

11. Roasted ratatouille soup. This just sounds like the best of summer in a bowl...

12. Thai pumpkin soup. In this recipe, pumpkin = butternut squash. I can go for that. And the coconut milk!

13. West African peanut soup.

Hope my list has you craving soup too! Now I just need to decide which one is first... what do you think? Let me know and I'll take it under advisement.

For more Thursday 13s, go here.

Daybook #2: It's only Tuesday?

 Outside my window... sunshine comes and goes. Since I'm inside with a sick boy today, I kind of wish it was less sunny, so I would be happy to stay inside.

I am thinking... that someone really should have come up with a cure for colds by now. Really. How hard can it be? Someday we'll be telling our grandchildren about colds as a distant memory, I'm sure of it. Well, I'm wishing for that, anyway.

I am thankful for... so many things, but that husband comes home tonight is top of the list. Work travel is fine, occasionally, but I am always glad when it's over!

I am wearing... my robe, still. It's kind of cushy and I'm a little lazy feeling, what with the lack of sleep from the sick boy waking me up at 3 a.m.

In the learning room... going to spend some time with my scanner and Photoshop today, hopefully. (Go away, sunshine, go away!)

I am remembering... being sick as a kid, and having very little on TV to entertain me... but I do remember Phil Donahue. Remember him?

I am going... to do as little as possible today, it appears, but I am still going to go to a noon meeting I committed to. That's the nice thing about a 13-year-old at home sick... he will probably welcome a break from Mom's forced fluids for a little while!

I am currently reading... the second Girl book by Stieg Larsson... "The Girl who Played With Fire. I just finished the first one a couple of nights ago, and in the interest of momentum, I'm leaping right into the second... But Jen just recommended Sara Gruen's Water for Elephants on her daybook, so maybe that will be my next audio download. You know, for all that yard work I'm just dying to get out there and accomplish.

I am hoping... for silly things that are completely unreasonable, and anyone less optimistic would have the good sense to not hope for.

On my mind... I watched Oprah's first show of her "farewell" season last night while ironing (dvr, baby), and was struck by the self-congratulatory nonsense that show has become. I know, I probably won't get called up as one of her "ultimate viewers." Oh well. But the thing I really wondered is: Does she use that voice at home, the excited one where she's announcing things, like, "We're all going to Austraaaaaliaaa!" Does she come into the TV room and shout to Stedman, "Here's some popcoooorrrn!" I mean, she does that holler so naturally, for EVERYTHING, I can't imagine her actually dialing it down at home. OK, enough of being hard on her. She is every woman, after all...

Noticing that... my motivation to get anything done today has dissipated significantly since emailing all Seth's teachers, collecting homework assignments and dialing up Brian Regan on Netflix. Showering, what's that? Meetings, oh darn.

Pondering these words...

“But most days, if you’re aware enough to give yourself a choice, you can choose to look differently at this fat, dead-eyed, over-made-up lady who just screamed at her kid in the checkout line. Maybe she’s not usually like this.

Maybe she’s been up three straight nights holding the hand of a husband who is dying of bone cancer. Or maybe this very lady is the low-wage clerk at the motor vehicle department, who just yesterday helped your spouse resolve a horrific, infuriating, red-tape problem through some small act of bureaucratic kindness.

Of course, none of this is likely, but it’s also not impossible.

It just depends what you want to consider. If you’re automatically sure that you know what reality is, and you are operating on your default setting, then you, like me, probably won’t consider possibilities that aren’t annoying and miserable. But if you really learn how to pay attention, then you will know there are other options.

It will actually be within your power to experience a crowded, hot, slow, consumer-hell type situation as not only meaningful, but sacred, on fire with the same force that made the stars: love, fellowship, the mystical oneness of all things deep down.” - David Foster Wallace

From the kitchen... I'm hungry, but not sure what I want to eat for my late breakfast, early lunch... maybe something with tomatoes, as I picked a bunch of them yesterday. Love the yellow ones!

Around the house... there are quite a few things I could be doing right now. Could. Should. Later.

One of my favorite things... is laughing. Who doesn't love a good belly laugh?

From my camera... a little granola I made recently. I love peanuts in my granola, in case you were wondering. And I'm already missing the plentiful berries that made my morning breakfast so wonderful this summer.

If you'd like to play along with the daybook concept, go here.

Hope your day is fabulous!

End-of-summer fling: Nectarine salad with basil and fresh mozzarella

o, remember what I said last week about autumn being here? Well, I lied. Or, maybe more to the point, autumn lied to me. It's summer again, at least for the moment, and gone are the soup cravings, the curry cravings, the anything-warm cravings... it's been WARM. And since there are still vestiges of warm-weather food lying about, I couldn't help but whip up a lovely salad this weekend to go along with the sunshine!


Nectarine salad with basil and fresh mozzarella
(So the title pretty much lays out exactly what's in the salad!)
2 nectarines, sliced thinly
1 cup of basil, cut chiffonade
1/2 cup of fresh mozzarella diced (I had those little bocconcini, and halved them)
2 tsp basil oil (straight olive oil will do, but I couldn't resist)
Salt and pepper to taste

Toss all the ingredients together in a bowl and serve room temperature.

Basil oil
So in true "me" fashion, I didn't look up an infused oil recipe, just stuck some leaves in a pot with some olive oil and warmed them through for a couple of hours. Worked well. But if you want to do it the way every recipe site recommends, you'd blanch the leaves first... I think that's why my color isn't as *green* as other basil oils I've seen... So I'll do that next time. Sigh.

Regardless, the salad was amazing. Really a lovely last taste to leave summer with...