Berlin's Whimsy

Take what you want, and leave the rest.

I'm finding that I must remind myself of this phrase periodically, especially in my new location. Life has changed since I grew up here. In those days, I would often run into acquaintances or friends at the store. Many locals owned farms, not for pleasure or hobby, but for sustenance. There was a sort of wild west feel with skiers wearing cowboy hats and Levis on the ski slopes and a "come as you are" mentality. There weren't black tie restaurants nor business suits at each corner. People lived in "ranch-style" one level homes and a 2,000 sq. ft. house was a mansion. And remember, I'm not really that old--it wasn't that long ago!

In contrast, there are now turnabouts with artwork in their middles at each intersection. New roads lead to housing developments with homes so large they previously would have been considered a ski lodge. Developments tout charming names like Brambleberry, Awbrey Glen, and Pine Nut on a Limb. Everywhere I look the developments are quaint and manicured and perfect. The wrath of a thousand agitations will befall the poor soul that dares to park their BMW on the curb rather than in their garage in many of these developments.

This aesthetic does provide a certain air of propriety and serenity in what was already a beautiful area. But sometimes it is taken a little too far. Like, for instance, this (and more sarcastically, this)... It describes a woman who lives in one of these serene and manicured developments. A woman who did the unthinkable: she dared to hang her lurid laundry upon a line, outside, in plain view. Lurid being towels and linens, and perhaps the occasional blouse. I am not referring to thong underwear and bullet-bras here.

This article hit a nerve in me because of the recent novel I read for one of my classes, The Country of the Pointed Firs by Sara Orne Jewett. It is a beautiful description of life before the turn of the last century along the Maine sea----a time when people knew their neighbors and ate their food from their garden, or in this case, from the sea. A time when each backyard had a clothesline with clothes flapping in the warm breeze as if in welcome to passersby. A time in history when pretension wasn't growing rampant like some invasive species, for the hard task of just plain old living uprooted any pretentiousness before it could spread. Times have changed.

More reading? Here's a wonderful article about the promotion of clotheslines in Oregon with great information about the energy use of dryers.

Crush in the dust.

Around these parts, things don't disappear into the mud, nor are they hidden by overzealous plants. Rust doesn't slowly consume lost and forgotten treasures. Around here, for better or for worst, relics of yesterday are found between the sagebrush----little bits of memory poking up from the dirt.

When this old bottle came home from the dirt, it instantly brought back memories for me. Memories of my Grandma who loved Grape flavored Crush. I remembered our Sunday drives with my Grandparents, us kids sitting amongst the bad-breathed dogs and remnants of their jolly saliva in the backseat of their Subaru. We would usually meander around a familiar ridge looking for deer because my Grandma loved to see deer, keeping a running tally daily, and my Grandpa happily obliging her. My Grandma always brought along provisions: Grape flavored Crush, Peanut Butter Wafers, and Lay's Potato Chips.

As children, my brother and I prided ourselves in our ability eat trashy food. We would scarf down the sugary cereal if ever our circumstances provided its availability; which wasn't often. Mostly we ate Natural Peanut Butter and fresh-from-the-garden vegetables. During the winter months, we slowly chewed on canned vegetables from our garden that my Mom had spent days canning.

But when my Grandparents were around, we ate potato chips by the fistful with a smile of delight and we dipped them in those 70s artificially-flavored dips in the plastic containers; I particularly remember 'Clam Dip.' We hoarded Halloween candy like it was Black Beard's lost treasure, hidden in the nooks and crannies of our rooms, or we binged on the whole bag and fell asleep after the sugar convulsions expired.

But on our drives with my Grandparents, even my brother and I could not stomach the over indulgence of junk food. I used to wonder if my parents gasped at what was presented to us, rather forced upon us, on our scenic drives. I remember my Grandmother's pushing question, "Don't you want another Crush?"  With my stomach roiling with this new diet of sugar and chemicals, I just couldn't oblige her heartfelt request. Sometimes I wonder if what I thought was carsickness was actually a good old-fashioned stomachache!

Now, I realize my Mom understood what went on during our drives and our picnics because she lived it in her own childhood. She didn't say anything when we were young because she knew it was my Grandma's way of sharing her love. My Grandma was a sugar addict (and junk-food, too) and I don't think she ever understood that it was unhealthy, possibly even dangerous---and if she did, she didn't care.

And so, when I look at this old bottle of Crush, I think about her unconditional love she gave to us Grandchildren. She didn't buy us rocking horses, nor anything else in the traditional sense, because she wasn't traditional herself. But what she did give us was a part of herself, and I don't question the whole-hearted love she felt for her family.

An old Crush bottle makes me smile now with the memory...

Mac & Cheese

It was just what I needed the other night; a comfort food that was warm and filling. A little salad on the side to assuage the guilt of the fat content.

Unfortunately, my kids aren't as big of fans of homemade Mac & Cheese as I am. I heard lots of, "Eww, what's that stuff on top?" (buttered bread crumbs). "I like Annie's Shells and Cheese better." "Well, I like the Bunny-shaped ones better." That went back and forth but what they both agreed upon was their dislike of the homemade version----the version made out of top quality aged cheddar cheese... Crazy, I know.

And the secret to my creamy homemade Mac & Cheese? Using canned milk in the sauce.

My favorite addition? Lots of pepper! I don't add it to the kid's. They don't know what they're missing...

Early Autumn sunshine.

A walk I went on in the ever present sunshine.

Hiking trails are almost as abundant here as the sun.

The first day of the rest...

I start school again today. I'm taking two online courses in the direction of obtaining a degree in teaching. Though I have many more questions than answers about what this will mean for me in the end, I am forcing myself to stay focused on the present and climbing over each obstacle as it appears. There is much too much of my life right now in an ambiguous state and that usually isn't something I feel comfortable with but I'm going with it.

I know from my experience last year, the first day can be overwhelming. The online format requires a lot of technical maneuvering, reading, and perusing syllabuses full of lofty requirements----it's all a bit daunting in the beginning.

So what does this mean? It means this week I might be light on words and heavy on images as I settle into all of my reading assignments, online discussions, and prep work for future projects.  Wish me luck!

Lonely birds upon the wire.

As our days grow a bit chillier and the date creeps into fall, I don't find myself out at the clothesline as much.

But this might give me a reason! A 'Peg Apron' from Kirsty. These colors together cannot but make a person smile and go scavenging for dirty clothes to feed into the washing machine's mouth. For me, it doesn't take much scavenging; hmmm, bathroom floor, children's beds, and... living room floor---- Ack!

Even so, I thought of forlorn birds upon the wire when I approached the empty clothesline; their lonely perches a good-bye to summer.

White Bean, Chicken Sausage & Kale soup

I don't have a picture of this soup---I'll leave you with another of the homemade garlic salt. And I must apologize again that I wasn't necessarily following a recipe when I made this soup; rather, I was following some general soup-making guidelines I always use. As a result, I'm estimating the quantities but I hope you take the liberty to season and to add & subtract ingredients to suit your own taste.

White Bean, Chicken Sausage & Kale Soup

For Beans (if using dried---which I highly recommend as cooking your own beans with your own seasonings adds just that much more depth of flavor to the final dish)

1 pckg. dried Cannellini beans (or substitute 3 cans of white beans)

1 small yellow onion, chopped

2 tsp. rubbed sage

a length of Kombu (a seaweed I always use when cooking beans to reduce their gassiness and add nutrients)

1 T. salt, or as needed

Method: Rinse dried beans under cold running water and check for pebbles or broken beans. Soak in water overnight. In morning, drain beans and rinse under cold running water.

In large pot, saute onions in olive oil until translucent and soft. Add sage and toss. Add beans and enough water to cover beans by 2/3 the volume. Simmer until soft, aproximately 1 1/2--2 hours, and add 1 T. salt near the end of cooking. Drain, rinse under cold running water and set aside for soup. Rinse pot for preparing soup.

Soup

Cooked beans above, or 3-4 cans of Cannellini beans, rinsed

Vegetable stock, or cold water

4 links pre-cooked chicken sausage, sliced into rounds (I used a mild sausage from Wild Oats that contains spinach & feta, too.)

1 yellow onion, chopped

1 bunch kale, stems removed and sliced into 1/2-inch slices and the leafy greens chopped

3 tsp. rubbed sage, separated

olive oil

Salt & Pepper to taste

*In large pot, saute onions and kale stems in olive oil until soft and translucent. Add kale greens and saute only until slightly wilted. Add sage and chicken sausage and saute for a couple minutes. Add beans and enough vegetable stock or water to cover by aproximately 2 inches. Simmer until flavors are combined---aproximately 45 minutes. Check for seasoning, adding salt and pepper if needed.

When all else fails...

When all else fails, make bread.

Especially when a Cannellini Bean, Chicken Sausage & Kale Soup is on the menu for dinner. Mmmmm, it was good, too! I might post a recipe later...

And even more so when the day is full of blustery fall winds.

And when time slips ever too closely to dinner, make a Quick Bread (this one is a Beer Bread)----especially when you have help in small deft hands.

I was thrilled to happen upon one of my favorite cookbook author's blogs, Dorie Greenspan. And look at this yummy quick bread recipe from her site: Savory Cheddar-Chive Bread on Serious Eats. That one is next up on my list to try!

A birthday to remember.

My birthday was joyful today. This birthday marks not only a launching point in my life but also a snapshot of time. I will always remember the state of my life on the beginning of my 39th year; wherever that year takes me.

I welcomed happy packages and surprises today. I found my Scrap Swap Package from my swap pal, Jennifer, at Minefull. Lots of fun fabric scraps were in my package!! I hope she enjoys what I sent her, too.

I received a coveted embroidery book from my Amazon wishlist, as well as a very thoughtful care package from another friend-----ginger scented lotions and bubble bath, a Bucky neckwrap for comfort, and this yummy looking cookbook. What a treat these all were! I also have a big amazon gift certificate waiting to enable my never-ending book lust from another thoughtful friend... (More cookbooks here I come!!)!

My family & I went out to a comfortable and delectable dinner and I laughed at the ironic and funny jokes my son entertained us with-----forget my age, how old has he become?!

And most importantly, my day was full of grattitude for what I have and the love I feel from so many people---near and far. And that sincerely is the greatest gift of all. Thank you.

The beauty of the ordinary--

With my impending birthday peeking back at me from around the very next corner, my husband asked me to meet him for a movie, in celebration.

Nothing between us right now seems to be that simple, nor celebratory, and quite expectantly one question, one innuendo, and one reply led to another and before we realized it the movie was already playing in that cute little movie house nearby without our presence in its comfortable seats. We were still in the parking lot, leaning against the sides of our cars with a cavern of resentment between us and the spoken presence of another person in this ugly triangle heavy in the night air.

We decided to go to a nearby restaurant; perhaps in ammends. With enough said already, we tried to make small talk, to fill in that silent hole----job prospectives, bills, the kid's school, and eventually the football game on the nearby television. I watched the people come in and out of the saloon-type swinging doors nearby. There was a concert going on in the room next door and I could here people discussing the music and their evenings----lost in their own lives.

In this town, Western is both the theme and dress of choice and I watched an old cowboy saunter by our table on his way to the restroom. He was the real deal, and even in the emotional state I was in, I couldn't help smiling at his worn jeans and long mustachios with the curled up ends---like an extension of his friendly smile.

And then I noticed my attention was elsewhere. Elsewhere, because there wasn't anything more to say at our table. It was like my husband & I were skipping along the waves of our problems and we had already made a couple rounds and felt that certain bump, crashed on that particular crest, and didn't feel up to making another round. Not tonight.

And so, I watched others.

No other time in my life have I wished so deeply for normalcy in my life. The comfort of the mundane and the routine. Those past nights when nothing of note happened. When our kids had just an average day of school and I threw together just an average meal for dinner. When we put them to bed reading a book we were halfway through----in that spot in a book when the climax has yet to be established; just the odds and ends being tied up in preparation for that climb to the apex of the story. And our kids would sing-song their good-nights to us; a phrase we passed back and forth before bed to soothe them and they would fall into a restful sleep in their own rooms---comforted by normalcy. And my husband & I would talk about our days but there was nothing of note----nothing to light a hot fire beneath our hearts. 'The Office' was on television and we would had a few good chuckles... lighthearted. Smiling contentedly.

Another completion to another uneventful day.

Forget paradise, those were the days.