Generosity: Soap and a New Friend

Ever since my trip to Minnesota this June, generosity's been on my mind. Throughout the trip, generosity kept peeking out, the first time with a new friendship and a bar of soap.

When I discovered Megan's blog some time ago (through Carol of Giraffe Dreams), I knew I'd found a kindred spirit. She posts about the things she is grateful for, her travels and favorite recipes (which look sublime by the way), but every now and then she posts some thoughtful reflection on a topic like, oh, Mercy with a capital M, and wham, I just want to walk right over to her house with a plate of cookies and have a real conversation. As I started reading, I hoped this girl would become a friend.

When I emailed her about visiting while I was in MN, I didn't know what her response would be. Talk about generous! My invite to meet for lunch was reciprocated with an offer of a ride from the airport, an invitation to stay with her and her hubby and another offer to drive me up to the retreat. At the rate she was going, I wouldn't have been surprised if she offered me her sweet puppy for company the entire time I was in the state! Was I ever glad to take her up on some of her offers! It was so fun to chat in real time, to eat her yummy food (and the excellent arugula/goat cheese pizza at Punch) and to see lovely MN.

Then, like good friends do, she taught me a lesson. Shopping in the cutest little shop, she came across something that smelled delicious and asked me if I liked almond. (Why yes, I do.) She started to tell me about a soap she bought that was almond scented and I immediately interrupted to say, "And you really don't like it?" (You know that something you bought that you just didn't love in the end, but you don't want it to go to waste and you know someone will love it? Mmm hmmm, I jumped right to that conclusion.) No, she LOVES it. She buys extra to give to others all the time, sharing her abundance. Made me wonder...why was my first assumption that she was offering to pass something along because she ended up not liking it? Yikes! Do I share only that which I don't like or don't need? Showed me again how joyful it can be to share the best. I can do more of that! Thanks Megan for the good example.

What have you been taught by a friend's good example?

Homecoming Queen, 2010

(or the post in which I eat my own words)

My senior year of high school, I didn't exactly think my involvement in the debate and environmental studies clubs garnered me huge popularity points, but somehow I found myself on the receiving end of a senior girl's highest honor, a homecoming queen nomination.

Most of the details of the nomination process, election and homecoming week are fuzzy memories, but the coronation assembly before the big homecoming game and dance flashes like a bright neon sign among my high school memories. The big event involved cheerleaders cheering, Madrigals (both current and alum) singing traditional school songs, skits by the students body officers and school produced videos full of exciting football moments and rousing school spirit. The crowning moment was the processional of the homecoming royalty nominees and the announcement of that year's queen.

There we were, lined up at the back of the darkened auditorium, waiting for our names to be called. In turn, each of us was escorted down the aisle to the stage while we were introduced to the student body. Our glowing high school curricula vitae and hopeful future plans were read aloud to sentimental music as we promenaded past our peers. I knew the vast majority of my little biography would be about school, because, well, we were in school and I planned on attending more school once I graduated. The other nominees were bright, accomplished young women. Their service to the school as student body officers and cheerleaders, then their college plans and future careers were all mentioned. For some, there was also mention of desires to have a family or to go on a mission.

Then there it was, read aloud to an entire student body in our homecoming assembly, tucked in among the lists of choir achievements, parts in the school play and college plans. One girl hoped to be, and I quote, a "mother in Zion".

I was dumbstruck. Zion as an ideal spiritual society was part of the religious lexicon of Sunday school lessons, but there in the midst of a contest that was essentially a popularity election? Shocked, I couldn't process it. It seemed out of place and not a goal worthy of mentioning. Sure, we were going to be mothers some day, but didn't she know that when some one asked her about her plans for the future, they were asking about her secular life...what she was going to study, make of herself, and do in the future? Where were her dreams, her ambitions? This mother in Zion business seemed such a limited view of her future and the world.

Fast forward quite a few years. I moved away from home, graduated from college, moved further away to a city I love, pursued a career in my own meandering way, married, traveled and experienced a bit of corporate success in an unexpected second career. Through the midst of it, the desire for children grew gradually and persistently but has been repeatedly frustrated. Time and time again, this challenge drew my focus to home and family. Used to looking out into the big wide world to justify my identity, purpose, strengths and success, looking inward and homeward was often uncomfortable and uncertain.

Recently though, something has shifted. I feel a growing excitement and purposefulness about nurturing the life that is centered around my own hearth. Now, not only do I want to care for my relationship with my husband and prepare for future children, I see it as extremely fulfilling work. I am excited to focus on meeting the needs of our little family of two and preparing to care for an expanding family. I want to learn how our home can be organized, peaceful, and supportive of growth. I want our spiritual life to be vibrant and strong, our meals to be nourishing, our recreation to be rejuvenating, our space to be welcoming. Simply put, I want to create a bit of Zion here in our little apartment.

Oh, the delightful irony. My seventeen year old self saw that vision as limiting, short sighted and even out of place. Now, I see it as possibly the most freeing, meaningful thing I can engage in. The effects of a well managed home and a cared for family are not out of place in the real world, but intimately woven into a family's and its individual member's successes in that world.

So, I take it back. I too want to be a mother in Zion. I want to learn all that entails from organizing and cleaning to nurturing emotional development, from preparing healthy meals to creating family time, from wise financial planning to having a deep, soulful marriage. All of this feels like deep and sacred work. I want to embrace it, share it, and write about it here.

And if, along the way, this focus on decorating, refreshments and cheering for the home team wins me a Homecoming Queen crown, who am I to complain?

Contentment in a Pie Plate

When hubster was first called to serve in the Spanish-speaking congregation 2 years ago, we had an open house the weekend after Thanksgiving to get to know people. This year, we decided to do a repeat to socialize with the same people, who are now our friends.

I started making pie baking plans. Easy ones, like cream cheese and ice cream pies. Standards, like apple and pumpkin. Cream pies and fruit pies. Pies with meringue topping and those with whipped cream topping. Perhaps a tart or two. Old family recipes and new experiments. 20 pies was my goal.


Two years ago, my busy, anxious baking dervish had gone crazy making all kinds of cakes, breads and cookies. It was productive, fun even (in a challenging, adrenaline rush way) but flavored throughout by the ongoing theme song of anxiety. Would we have enough? Would they like any of my American desserts, breads and cookies? Would they be offended by the lack of "real" food (no meat or rice or beans), or by my horrible Spanish, or by our home, or by a gringo serving the congregation? Would they see the places I hadn't scrubbed? Would we have enough chairs? All these things keeping me in an mild (to not so mild) state of distress while I prepare to supposedly open my heart and home to new people.

As I started rolling out my first pie crusts this year, I felt those familiar feelings creeping in. This needed to be cleaned, that needed to be baked, this needed to be bought, that needed to be prepared, etc. etc. etc. And the what if's. Then I stopped.

I like making pies. I reminded myself again. I like this. When do I get to spend two whole days making pies??? And so I decided to enjoy it.

I started humming Patty Griffin. I thought of all the memories I have of making pies with my dad and my sister. I thought of how many pies we used to make together at Thanksgiving. I let myself try new recipes. I stopped to play a rocking drum solo or two with my honey on his new toy. I enjoyed eating out on Friday night at a favorite greasy spoon burger place, rather than rushing home to bake some more. I let myself go to bed when it was time.

I didn't make 20 pies.

And all of it? It was lovely. The pies. Time baking. New recipes. The feeling between me and my husband. Time with friends. Doing something I love. Holding cute babies. Laughing at the boy who hid out under the table, emerging only for another slice of apple pie. Meeting a couple recently baptized. Being invited to a guest's house for dinner this week. Listening to a five-year old's reading of "Where the Wild Things Are".

It felt good to truly open my heart, relax and just enjoy.

How do you find contentment?

(Sour Cream Apple Crumb & Dad's Famous Apple Pie)

If you'd like to enjoy my new favorite pie (an experiment that worked, yeah!), here's the recipe:

Sour Cream Apple Crumb Pie

For crust:
1 1/2 cups flour
1/2 tsp salt
1/3 cup unsalted butter, cold
Ice-cold water

For filling:
6-8 apples (preferably Mutsu/Crispin, Ida Reds or Granny Smith)
1 cup sugar (or less if you like a bit of tartness in your pie!)
2 Tbls flour
Cinnamon
Nutmeg
1 cup sour cream

Crumb topping:
1/2 cup flour
1/2 cup brown sugar
1/2 cup chopped pecans
3 Tbls butter

Prepare crust: Mix flour and salt. Cut in butter to make course crumbs. Gradually add just enough water to form larger clumps of dough, while stirring with a fork. You want the dough to stick together when clumped by hand, but not be overly wet. The drier the dough, the flakier your crust. Form into large disk with your hands and then roll out on a well floured cutting board, making repairs to the edges as you go. Transfer to pie plate, flute edges as desired and trim off excess dough.

Prepare filling: Peel, core and slice apples. Add sugar, flour, cinnamon and nutmeg. Stir 'til evenly coated. Add sourcream. Stir thoroughly. Pour apples into crust.

Prepare topping: Mix flour and brown sugar. Cut in butter to make course crumbs. Stir in pecans. Pour evenly on top of apples.

Cover edges of crust with foil. (Next time I think I'll try covering the entire crumb topping with foil for part of the baking time or chop my pecans smaller. The exposed edges of my pecans burned!)

Bake at 400 for 40-50 minutes. Let cool before serving for the filling to set. Enjoy, preferably with ice cream!

Creating Abundance and Grandma's Rolls

Last month at my grandmother's funeral, the most frequently used word by the speakers was almost certainly "frugal". Grandma was known for saving all kinds of things for re-use: twisty-ties, bread bags, disposable plastic cups, styrofoam trays used to package meat, wrapping paper. She was teased about it from time to time, yet all of us recognized she lived through a time when you didn't take throwing something away lightly. If it was useful, it got used.

As we talked together in the following days, Grandpa wanted us to really understand her Depression experiences that laid the foundation for frugality. Grandma's family was extremely poor. With no job and a large family, her father struggled constantly to make sure they were all fed. During high school, Grandma had just one dress that she washed and hung every night to dry for the next day of school, putting up with occasionally snide comments from other girls in new new matching sweater sets. She always knew college wouldn't be possible, due to lack of financial resources not academic ability. She learned to make do with what she had and to make other plans when necessary. She learned how to care of things and make them last. She learned the importance of high quality and always worked to create things of excellence. Frugality was part of survival.

A life like this, of altered dreams and doing without, could make one miserly and bitter, but that's not what happened. She chose something different. As the stories others shared and my own memories flood my mind, it is her generosity that stands out to me. She took her impoverished background and created abundance for the people in her life.

• One son shared a memory of watching her willingly prepare and pack a full lunch for a local beggar, simply because he knocked and asked.
  
• Neighbors told of times she brought over food when they were in need.
  
• While home, we slept under a faux fur throw, a remnant of the many "softs" she made her children and grandchildren.
  
• After the funeral, we flipped through photo albums she put together of reunion after reunion where her love for her grandchildren was shown through creating: sewing personalized aprons, leading rock painting activities, or running a family Olympics complete with opening ceremony parades.
  
• I remembered one of her letters from when she was serving alongside my grandfather over a mission in Michigan. She told of the dozens upon dozens of Christmas care packages she made for each of the many missionaries serving with them, packages I knew from the many years she sent them to us.
  
• Her daughter reminisced about her talents as a seamstress. She couldn't remember a single dress, blouse or skirt she owned as a child that wasn't made by her mother.
  
• I shared the story of her careful work assisting on my junior prom dress when we were behind schedule. She sewed meticulously even when I wanted to rush because, um, my date was waiting while it was finished.

Amidst all of these stories and memories, one of Grandpa's comments said it all: her background made her empathetic to the suffering of others. When she saw some one lacking, she sought ways to share with them. When they were down, she sought ways to reach out a lifting hand. Within her family, she made consistent efforts to provide us the best of comfort, nourishment, creativity, beauty and enjoyment. While her life was not one of dramatic public accomplishments, the work of caring for the people around her will always be remarkable to me. I am honored to have known her and to have seen the ways she created abundance.

Today, it felt appropriate to attempt her family-famous rolls for the first time. Her Thanksgiving dinners were always delicious and these rolls were divine. I really struggled through this first attempt, not sure how to work with such unwieldy dough, and yet, I loved every minute of it. It felt like an honor to her legacy of creating bounty for the people you care about.

Hope you feel blessed with abundance this Thanksgiving, including good food.

Grandma's Parker House Rolls

Dissolve in a small bowl:
2 pkgs. yeast (4 1/2 tsp)
1 1/2 cups lukewarm water

Dissolve:
1/2 cup sugar
4 tsp. salt
1 cup scalded milk

When cool, combine mixtures. Add:
4 cups flour
2 eggs
1/4 cup veg. oil

Stir well, then add:
3 3/4 cups sifted flour

Mix well with large spoon, not a mixer. Let rise covered, until double (about 2 hours).

Melt several tablespoons of butter and set aside. Punch down dough with a spoon. Pour (yes, pour) about half of the dough onto very well floured bread board. Sprinkle generously with flour to prevent sticking. Roll to about 1/3 inch thick. Cut rolls with biscuit cutter, score gently with a knife and brush with butter along the crease. Fold in half, pressing the round edge together and transfer to a greased cookie sheet. Lightly brush with melted butter. Let raise until doubled again (about 1 hour). Bake at 400 for 10 minutes. Brush tops with unmelted butter.

The secret to these light rolls is not using too much flour and not handling the dough too much.

Her final, somewhat deceptive notes? "They are so easy to make - just stir them up - raise - roll out and bake. SO SIMPLE!" I think it should say "So STICKY! but worth it!" Mine need a bit of work to find the right balance, but I think I have a few years before I have to have them "Grandma perfect".

True Wealth

Every now and then, my dad calls to tell me how rich he is.

This is the same man who periodically reminds me that he's trying to figure out how to be born to wealthy parents so he'll be set for life, so you can rest assured he's not talking about an investment portfolio or bank balance. No, when my dad says he's rich, it usually means he has an abundance of some delicious food at home, often stockpiled in the freezer.

Maybe live crawfish mailed in from Louisiana, just for a crawfish boil with his daughters.


Or enough of the best Utah peaches (yes, he has copious notes from various taste tests to prove it) in his freezer to provide peaches on his oatmeal all winter long.

Or the first strawberries ripening on the variety he read has the best strawberry flavor ever, but can't be commercially grown because they deteriorate too quickly. (For best results, pop it straight in your mouth once picked.)

(His strawberry starters.)

Yes, when my dad says he's rich, it almost certainly means food, and lots of it.

So tonight, I feel rich to have lots of my favorite, favorite crackers (recipe here) warm out of the oven.

Note: Even with a double batch, I think they're going to disappear quickly. I may have possibly eaten half a baking sheet since starting this post.

Wordless Wednesday: Visiting V . . .

Connecting with home

I've spent more than ten years in the big city, away from my family and many dear friends. I totally dig living in NYC, but lately I've longed for my loved ones back home. Seeing them, catching up with them, hugging them and laughing with them earlier this month filled me up to overflowing! I felt so strengthened and reassured in my current path. Knowing they love me made me feel full of joy.

Want to meet some of the people I love?

My beautiful mom, who roots for me always, even when following my dreams takes me far, far away, and hermanacita, who makes me laugh, laugh, laugh....

My crawfish (even though spell-check insists it's crayfish) cooking Papa-Bear....(oh I need to post about our crawfish boil! What fun it was!!!)....

The Four A's (re-nicknamed the A-team on this trip) who were my constant high school confidantes, cheerleaders and conspirators....

My best college friend, who gives the most awesome hugs....

Sisters and mothers and in-laws....

A New York friend who is out West for college. She is delightfully smart, extremely funny and great company....


My grandpa, who is so deeply devoted to my grandma, even through her Alzheimers, and my grandma who I still love talking with....

My other grandma, who inspired me to start quilting and taught me how to bake a good loaf of bread...

A (2nd?) cousin (once removed?) who is my age and used to be a favorite playmate and pen pal. So fun to get back in touch....

And Hhhh-era, who has the most fabulous wit and had the gall to move to a place where you are worried about snakes and scorpions instead of subway rats and yappy dogs...

(Ok, this pic of us is several years old, but I was silly and didn't take a picture of us together this trip!)

And still, there are so many more people I wish I'd been able to see! (You could come to Women's Conference next year, you know! :) I guess it just gives me lunch dates and cousin barbeque's to look forward to this summer! I'm so grateful I'm connected to these people! They love me and pray for me...I can feel it!

Who fills you with joy and makes you feel loved?

Magic Slippers

This morning, I tiptoed into the lives of two little girls and discovered the delights of reading stories about the ballet and a child's love of the night sky, creating celestial hair decorations in a Crayola studio and dancing 'round a playground where hippos wander free.

On the way back to my "regular" life of part-time office job, I found this in my shoe:

the tail of a shooting star. I smiled and took it out...paused...and put it right back in.

After all, how often do you get to wear magic slippers to work?

Nothing is sacred...

I came in while hubby was setting the table....

Laughing, I fetched my camera.

"You going to put that on your blog?

(nod)

"Is nothing sacred?"

Nope. Sorry hon. Not even the intimate relationship between man and his cookie...

Spring Break 2009

A sum up of my whirlwind week? Backpacking into a cabin in CT, (related packing/unpacking), going to youth conference in upstate NY, (related laundry/packing/unpacking), cleaning the house some (emphasis on some, I'm afraid), reading your delightful blogs as a post-YC wind down (instead of scrubbing away mildewy shower curtain), attending to post-YC sleep deprivation, hosting cousin and his lovely wife for a few days (where they had to shower behind said shower curtain....YIKES!), lunching with a dear friend from home, then rehearsing, working and celebrating with my honey. Whew! It was great, but I don't mind getting back to a routine!

I wish I had a picture to share of the beautiful sunrise on the shores of Seneca Lake. I also loved seeing the sky from this grove of trees. How lovely it is to have hills and trees and lakes and long horizons around you!


And for you quilters, here's a picture of a quilt from a historic cabin we visited. Never got the chance to ask if it was period or replica, but I like it none-the-less. (Makes me think of Laughing Duck's flying geese quilt.)

Hope you have the Spring or the Break you need.

Dancing for Joy

I don't know why these kinds of videos bring me to joyful tears, but oh they do. I just want to be there...



p.s. And Julie Andrews? "Doe a Deer"? So joyful! You can't go wrong! Reminds me of doing The Sound of Music for a church production growing up. I was in the chorus and my mom was both a nun (the one that stole the spark plugs from the German soldiers' cars) and the eternally bowing Frau at the concert. I can still see her bowing. Loved it!

Our favorite chocolate chip cookies....

I decided to make these the other night to celebrate a successful performance by my students and the completion of another dance residency. Thought you might enjoy them too....

Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies

1 cup butter (or 1/2 cup shortening, 1/2 cup butter)
1 cup brown sugar
1 cup white sugar
2 eggs
1 tsp vanilla
1 tsp salt
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp baking powder
2 cups flour (I do 1 cup white, 1 cup whole wheat)
2 1/2 cups quick oats
chocolate chips (3/4 - 1 12 oz. bag)

Cream butter (barely softened) and sugar. Add eggs and vanilla. Add dry ingredients and choc. chips. Drop in golf ball sized clumps on cookie sheet.

Bake at 375 for 8 minutes, or until the tops of the cookies are slightly brown. (Do not over bake.) Let cool for a bit on the cookie sheet.

Eat warm.

For more chocolate chip cookie tips (like the impact of creaming butter properly, why cookie dough is better the next day, etc.), check out this article.

I am grateful for....

A hike....

Here's what hubby spotted. She wasn't bashful. Watchful, but not bashful. She foraged with a younger deer, used her nose to to satisfy an itch (can you see the little nuzzle mark in her fur?) and watched us watching her. We spotted four deer. They were beautiful to watch!

A new project....

I'm embroidering these as a housewarming gift for a friend who moved into a new apartment.

A bit of green...

After seeing Amy's pic, I had to see if there was any green coming up by me and there was!

My next post will be #100. As part of that celebration, I think I'll give away something green. 'Til then, have a lovely day.

Lovely things and surprises

Hubby and I went away for a rustic, and much needed, overnighter. Can you spy what he did on our hike?

While there have been other lovely things recently...like meeting Victoria and her quilts today! Wow!...I'm simply going to sign off for tonight, with a promise of a little surprise coming soon.

Until then.....have a lovely couple of days! We'll chat soon!

Soup Swap: Sweet Potato Soup

This recipe was given to me by the mother of a boy back home. I had a nice little on again/off again crush on this boy all growing up. Before he left for two years, he paid me a visit at college (midnight hiking included) that fanned that crush into a flame. At his farewell party, his mother made this soup. It was the beginning of a transfer of my affections from son to soup. When he returned the sparks just weren't there, but I was still passionately in love with this...

...in spite of its occasional resemblance to baby food. And my true love? He loves it!

Oh how I love a happy ending!

Admittedly, it is a stretch to say that what I am about to share for Jessica's Soup Swap is a recipe. It's more of a soup "concept", but it is so simple, I think a concept will do. As such, realize that all measurements are estimates (guesses) and can (and probably should!) be tweaked. I always wing it with this recipe. Just know, with good dairy and cardamom you can't go wrong!

Without further ado....

Claudia's Sweet Potato Soup

4 sweet potatoes
reserved liquid from boiling sweet potatoes

2 Tbs. butter (or ghee if, like Claudia, you roll like that)
1/2 cup cream (or skip this and use 1/2 and 1/2 or milk)
1/2 - 1 cup milk
ground cardamom
salt and pepper

1. Boil the sweet potatoes 'til soft.
2. Drain, reserving some of the liquid.
3. Transfer to a blender.
4. Add 1/2 cup reserved liquid.
5. Add 1 Tbs. butter.
6. Add part of the dairy product of your choice.
7. Blend away. (Technical term, see Joy of Cooking)

8. Add additional liquids (reserved liquid, milk, cream, etc.) and butter to achieve your desired level of richness, creaminess and thickness.

9. Add cardamom, (maybe 1/2 -3/4 tsp?) salt and pepper to taste.

If you really want to be happy, enjoy with these crackers.

(Aack! I just discovered the blog with this recipe has been deleted. Oh they are divine! Can I share this recipe with you? What are the blog ethics for something published by someone else that I can no longer just link to because it's been deleted? They are one of my main inspirations for starting a blog! You must try them! Well, if you are in to that making your own crackers kind of thing... This happy ending is slightly marred. Somebody help! Is there a copyright lawyer in the house?)

How ya like them apples...

Getting up early to bake apple pie for our celebration (and All-American bake off!) at the law firm....


Enjoying the beauty of black and white lines created by snow on trees and the fire escape and everything else...

Running into one of the partners making a mad dash to Trinity Church as the internet feed on the big screen at the office was failing. Joining him...

Photo by Occipita, used under CreativeCommons License

Pressing forward with the rest of the crowd in the packed entrance to Trinity Church, as it was full to capacity inside. Straining to see the swearing in, catching only glimpses of Biden but ample views of the elaborate ceiling above us...

Getting the call that it was on back in the office. Racing to SEE THIS HAPPEN!....

Photo by Scorpions and Centaurs, used under CreativeCommons License

Being inspired to remember that generations before us suffered and succeeded and that the responsibility of this nation's success falls on all of us, not just our leaders....

Hearing the rare full peal of the Trinity Church bells....

Contentedly eating pie and loving that my pie was the first to disappear in our bake off, even though I was explicitly told it couldn't compete with the divine cheesecake....

Who can compete with cheesecake?

(Pie points if you can tell what design the steam holes on the top of the pie make!)

Knowing I witnesses a remarkable, historical day in our country....

Inspiring!

Mom's Dill Bread

Mom used to make this after church on Sunday afternoons. I made some yesterday and remembered lazy those afternoons lying in a patch of sun on our shag carpet, reading the funny papers, with the aroma of dill bread drifting through the house. Mmmmmm.....where are my funnies?

Mom's Dill Bread

Total Prep Time: approx. 2-2 1/2 hours (unless you get distracted blogging while it rises. Then it takes a weeeeee bit longer.)
Yield: 1 loaf

1 pkg dry yeast (2 tsp)
1/4 cup warm water
1 cup cream cottage cheese
1 Tbs butter
1 egg
2 Tbs sugar
1 Tbs instance minced onion
1 Tbs dried dill weed
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp baking soda
2 1/2 cup flour (I use 1/2 white, 1/2 whole wheat)


1. Sprinkle yeast over water.
2. Heat cottage cheese to lukewarm.
3. Combine sugar, onion, dill, salt & soda.
4. Add butter to warm cottage cheese. Then add egg and yeast.
5. Combine mixtures and beat.
6. Add flour to form stiff dough.
7. Cover and let raise double.
8. Turn into 1 1/2 quart casserole dish or bread pan.
9. Let raise in warm place 30-40 minutes
10. Bake at 350 fro 40-50 minutes
11. (The best part...) While still hot, brush top crust with butter and sprinkle with salt.

I love the slightly crunchy crust on a slice smeared with butter. And it smells delish! Enjoy!

A new path

For many years of my adult life, I have been a multi-tasking queen...jobs, relationships, classes, performances, projects, callings, more classes, etc. etc.... "Take it all on!" "Sleep when you're dead!" "I'd rather burn to ashes...and...streak across the sky!", I thought. But, over the past year or so, I have been slowly stepping back from this approach. Gradually, I began to realize that I felt like a boxer in the ring, either preparing to "take it all on", pulse pumping, gloves pounding, adrenaline coursing or I was exhaustedly picking myself up off the mat after the round was over, feeling "dead" and "burnt to ashes". Didn't I know any better way?

One of my clearest childhood memories is of being kept after school with my kindergarten teacher to finish up my worksheet from that day. I was not a fast-working, multi-tasking kindergartner. In fact, I always took longer than everyone else to finish. That day, Mrs. R was making a point (to me? to herself? to my mom?) of just how slow I was. When I finally finished and left, the schoolyard and playground were deserted. Even my friend and next-door neighbor, who was supposed walk home with me and who said he would wait for me, was gone. A touch of panic at being left behind, forgotten, lost and neglected, all because I was slow, crept in. I don't know that this impacted my school habits, but now my slowness induced feelings of fear and guilt.

As I have been revisiting the pace of my life, this memory comes back to me, along with other times in school where I found myself behind in my timing. Those experiences always involved judgment on myself. Yet, I love the drawing out of time I feel when I visit a beach or a fabric store or a gallery or a new mountain vista. I often want to dawdle on a project or spend all day in the kitchen. I enjoy spending an hour in the morning writing in my journal. For all of my "pack-it-in" approach, I am rediscovering that I really like to work at a slow, focused, all-the-time-in-the-world pace. A friend once told me she likes to take trips with me because I love the moment and time is never an issue. That sounds like a good thing, right? Oh, how I want to reclaim this way of living! Is it possible? Is it practical?


I am bouncing back and forth a bit...trying to find a slower pace, but not succeeding...or succeeding a bit, but then getting overwhelmed by what then gets neglected. I find myself in a place of confusion and even grieving...confused as to how to balance the demands of daily living and this way of being that feels peaceful to me...grieving that this way of working and being has been lost to me for so long...wondering if I can ever have it back. It seems that Mrs. R and Mr. Life don't support my kindergarten worksheet approach of slow and focused.


However, I think I may stay here for a while, sorting out how to reclaim this lost thing and honor the beauty of my kindergartner approach. I know it can't be the only approach to my life, but for now, I have some worksheets that need some serious dawdling and doodling attention.

p.s. These photos are from a solo hike in Alaska last fall...a time I was able to just be, for as long as I wanted...or at least until dark. :)

Brought to you by the color orange....

To combat the sticky, hot, muggy, miserable New York summer, I decided to make Orange Juliuses this week! Remember those???


It was one of the things I learned to make in 7th grade Home Ec (you know, so I would be prepared to healthily feed a family of four on sugary, frothy drinks) and for a whole year I really thought I was the cat's meow because I could make an Orange Julius at home. And make them I did.....week after week after week. Then forgot ALL about them until this summer.

Luckily, the recipe (which I thought I would NEVER forget I made them so much that year), was in the very middle-America American Fork Relief Society cook-book my aunt gave me when I got married. Here it is in case you want some of this frozen delight and have forgotten the recipe (along with exactly how to rat your bangs to soaring heights like you did in 7th grade):

1 6 oz. can of frozen OJ concentrate
1/2 cup sugar
1/2 cup water
1 cup milk
1 tsp vanilla
Ice cubes to make 4 cups

Blend the heck out of it. Oh my they are good!

Speaking of fabulous orange foods.......


Squeaky cheese. Yes, squeaky! So delightfully squeaky! I had forgotten just how squeaky it is until last weekend when Hermanacita and I went to the cheese factory in the little town where we both went to college .

Oh so yummy! Oh so delightfully squeaky... chew, squeak! chew, squeak! It kept making me giggle.

Anyone else eat cheese curds? Something else you loved to eat or make as a kid? Do you love it now?

Chew, squeak, slurp! Stay cool!