Dec 27, 2012

Do you believe in Santa Clause?

I discovered this excerpt posted on the door of a university colleague.  It was taken from The New York Sun in 1897, in response to a letter to the editor from an 8 year old girl named Virginia  


"Is there a Santa Claus?"

"Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.  He exists as certainly as love and generosity and devotion exist, those qualities that abound and give your life its' highest beauty and joy.

How dreary the world would be if there was no Santa Claus!  There would be no childlike faith, no poetry, no romance to make tolerable this existence..."


Rather lofty words in response to the inquiry of an 8 year old child.   However, it gave me pause as I asked myself just how I would respond to Virginia's question today.   Any thoughts?

 

Dec 4, 2012

Blooms and memories

Fond memories are treasured possessionsSpending time walking through my yard  takes me down "memory lane" Years ago when my husband and I  bought our first home, which we named Locust Lane Farm, there was  a flower garden in the shape of a horseshoe in the front yard.    A gated driveway opened to passage over  a cattle crossing and a driveway lined with stately maple and locust trees.   A grove of  black locust trees framed the back of the house.  Locust trees are common in the Ohio landscape, and  this sweet scent continues to evoke fond and  lingering memories of the farm.     Twenty seven  years have past since we moved away, but these fond  memories remain.

The view from the front porch extended a half mile  to the north shore of buckeye lake, and included hundreds of acres of corn fields and  pasture where Angus beef grazed directly behind the house.  It was not uncommon to fall asleep to the lowing of  cattle.  We bought the property just before the blizzard of 1978. I remember snow drifts looming above the top of the car and traveling the last mile to the house  to  by snowmobile when the car could no longer progress in the  deep snow. 

The farm included  not only extensive flower beds but peach, pear and apple trees, two  grape arbors, and a vegetable garden that was 100' x 33'.   Organic gardening  became a regular subscription.  Gardening was a delight yielding  a constant supply of fresh vegetables and fruit and flowers  from spring to fall.  I fell in love with the spider wort plant and this  flower the has traveled with me over the years  and currently thrives in my garden. A curious little flower, it opens with purple blooms by day, and closes at night. It transplants easily and thrives in partial sun.

Blooms  bring back memories. Today  favorite scent is the lilac which evokes  memories of the days I spent with my grandmother cutting fresh flowers and greens from her garden.  She always had a bouquet of flowers on her kitchen table.   I  transplanted her lilac bush and over the years I have added several varieties  to my garden including Miss Kim lilac, planed in memory of my father,  and dwarf Korean lilacs outside the bedroom windows.   Their scent sweeps  through the house each spring during the bloom.




Apr 14, 2012

FINDING BEAUTY IN THE WEEDS

The point of etiquette is to promote a feeling of comfort. There are guidelines for etiquette in every culture that pervade almost every social encounter.

Emily Post, the philosopher, offers a way of living: “Manners are made up of trivialities of deportment which can be easily learned if one does not happen to know them; manner is personality—the outward manifestation of one’s innate character and attitude toward life.” "There is no reason why you should be bored when you can be otherwise. But if you find yourself sitting in the hedgerow with nothing but weeds, there is no reason for shutting your eyes and seeing nothing, instead of finding what beauty you may in the weeds." EmilY Post

Recently I was waiting for someone to arrive for dinner and had more than enough time to reflect on the behavior of my dinner guest. When someone is late they convey incompetence or disrespect and reveal too much about themselves. This is compounded as the late arrivals are repeated. Don't be late is the first rule of dining etiquette. Arriving even five or ten minutes late leaves a bad impression; any later than that sends a clear message of carelessness and thoughtlessness.

On this occasion, I rushed in order to meet someone for dinner at an appointed time. I value being on time and made my timely arrival a priority. I was quickly ushered to a table ready for a relaxing dinner. Five, ten, fifteen minutes went by, and I continued to await the arrival of my dinner partner. No messages or texts arrived. After exhausting observation of the servers and patrons, I called to investigate the delay. I interrupted an in progress phone call as they are still at the office. "I can't talk--on another call" was the clipped retort. The click of the hang up cut my words mid-sentence. Feeling disrespected and rather annoyed to put it mildly, I settled into some Iphone diversion. Appetizer ordered, I passed another twenty minutes. The phone finally rang and the first words were "it's all about closing a sale". When I stated I was waiting without any word on their arrival for the past 40 minutes, the response was "you would have done the same thing", I'm on my way" (just a mere 20 minute drive). I chose to wait and just see how the hand would be played.

Consider the choices:

You could:

Propose a cancel or reschedule
Follow up the "Now I'm on the way" with more excuses upon arrival
Offer apology and acknowledge gross lack of courtesy

Any guess on on the rest of this story?

I find that as I age, there is a tendency to care more about certain things, that in the past may have been elbowed out awareness by higher priorities of the moment. I mean those things that were formerly unnoticed, discounted, or rationalized as I was busy with "doing" versus "being". One of these things is etiquette as it relates to being late or keeping someone waiting.

Sometimes individuals are just too optimistic about how quickly they can do things. Basically this means that people are late because they are not honest with themselves about how long it takes to do things. If you really do want to be on time, start being by being a better judge of how much time tasks really take and then add some time to you estimate. If you are detained, call ahead and remember to offer genuine apology for the inconvenience and remember your behavior conveys disrespect.

Feb 26, 2012

Soup's on Again

Sunday's routine includes preparation of several meals for the week ahead. I often make a soup for the week and revisited the French Onion soup I prepared recently and posted under "soup's on".

This time I browned about 1 cup of finely diced beef chuck roast in unsalted butter and added this and the deglazed sauce to the onions as I put them in the oven to bake. I skipped the thyme and just added pepper and sweetened the soup with a heaping teaspoon of raw sugar as the final step in the recipe.

Delicious.

Feb 25, 2012

What Hapened to Winter?

Winter never arrived in Central Ohio.

Columbus, Ohio 2011 set the mark for the wettest year recorded. This year, 54.96 inches of rain fell in Columbus, which is 1.8 inches more than what fell in 1990, the previous Columbus record year, according to the National Weather Service.

Not only was it wet, but there were very few days with snow. At the end of November dandelions were blooming in the city.

Today the ground surface actually remained frozen, well almost frozen. Spring bulbs have pushed through the soil and are 3 inches high in some places. The trees have buds and there have been song birds in the woods for weeks.
Novelist Robert Louis Stevenson wrote that “wine is bottled poetry.”



I just discovered that  Deborah Harkness, author of  A Discovery of Witches,  a compelling novel of magic and history and romance, also has a blog called Good Wine under $20. This award-winning wine blog is dedicated to celebrating everyday wine.

I recommend the novel and the blog. Here is an excerpt from the blog:

"So it is with great pleasure that I report that the 2011 Fish Eye Pinot Grigio still has a suggested retail price of $7 (though you can find it in the market for prices between $5 and $10), it is still delicious, it is still widely available throughout the country, and it is still excellent QPR. Expect zesty, pure lemon and lime aromas and to have those scents echo through the flavors. You might detect a nice peachy note as you sip, which takes off some of the bitterness that can be associated with Pinot Grigio.

This is a versatile, food-friendly wine that is light enough to pair with vegetables and salads at a weekend lunch, will be a great companion to asparagus and lemon pasta as you work your way into your spring recipes, and will be welcome at summer barbeques so if you see some on the shelf give it a try."







  Enjoy.    I eagerly await her second book in the All Soul's trilogy

The Making of a Memory

One of my mentors was a woman named Lynn Andrews. In the time I spent with her she had an uncanny ability to "quicken" the student, like a river heading towards the rapids. Her method was to engage you so that you shifted your awareness and perception opening up a new layer of yourself. She taught listening from the heart and I am grateful for her teachings. Lynn created something called a "power deck", a series of cards with beautiful artwork, and inspirational teachings.



Today, I read John Switzer's newspaper column which brings up memories of another woman who had a significant influence on me. Her name was Mary Ann, my "Grand Mother". Her children called her "mum" until her death in 2007 at the age of 110. What a blessing to have her in my life for 56 years.

Grandma must have been in her early 60's when I would arrive for my annual visits during the summers of the 1950's. I couldn't wait for these visits as I could stay her for a week. Her modest house, built as a homestead near Margaruite Lake near Greensburg, Pennsylvania was the birthplace of my mother and her siblings. My grandmother and grandfather's family immigrated to the United States from Austria. She and my grandfather, Joseph raised 9 children in this homestead.

Visits with grandma were full of special adventures, spending time picking berries, wandering around the garden and picking flowers in her gardens the fields beside the house, or gathering eggs in the barn. Grandma was frequently humming a tune, something that is no longer in vogue today.
One of my favorite memories was falling asleep at night listening to a symphony of bullfrogs which thrived near the lake. With her oldest daughter and family living "down the road", a walk for a visit was part of the daily routine in the summer. Grandma did not drive or own a car, so walking also took you up the hill to St. Benedicts Catholic church on Sunday, down past the lake and her sister's house to the local dairy. We carried home the the fresh milk and butter. In my earliest years, I remember an ice box on the side porch. Grandma showed me me how to milk Daisy her cow. I can still hear the whooshing sound of the milk hitting the bucket, and the see the cats standing by for a chance squirt of milk which they greedily lapped off their faces. Grandma raised and butchered her own chickens. I watched while she stretched their neck and chopped and later pulled the feathers in preparation for cooking the bird. This was a reality of living and treated without drama, just a matter of fact.



I remember Grandma as "happy to be" with a ready smile, a sense of contentment with her routines of living. I was the extra but little hands as she made soup, nut, apricot and poppy seed breads. Grandma would also make doughnuts, Doughnuts were fried to perfection, rolled in granulated sugar and enjoyed by all.

Her house was full of novelties. It was here I learned to play Chinese Checkers with my cousins,spend the afternoon exploring the lake and woods, listen to the stories of family sitting around the kitchen table. On weekends, when my family would would visit until late at night, my parents aunts and uncles lingered around the kitchen table long after the cousins were taken upstairs and put to bed. I can remember hearing the conversation and the laughter. I remember her the old washing tub with a manual clothes wringer. Clothes were scrubbed clean on a wooden washboard.


Sending the wet clothes through the wringer was a fascination for me. Wash day meant a day of hard manual work in the basement, complete with a coal stove and a corner room with a coal chute. There was one small door which opened into the back yard, once a thriving garden that fed 9 children in the 1920's and 30's A meager garden path led down to the old barn where you could find the berry patch, a cow and an assortment of banty hens pecking in the dirt.

These are some memories of my early childhood, of an era gone by. Little did I know how to appreciate these experiences, how grandma was teaching in her everyday state of "being" and way of living. Now I better understand these early experiences and how they influenced me, shaped my values, fostered a love of family and tradition, and shaped my preference for rural living.



In the words of Lynn Andrews "You can never really teach...with words about the unknown, you must use experience". My daughter Kathryn and I were on an outing one day when she was five or six years old. Kathryn, a perceptive child, was always eager to talk about her experiences. On that day she looked at me and said: "mom, let's make a memory". The moment is one I that I will always remember. This is the epitome of using your experience and the wisdom came from a child when something touched her heart.

"If you look into the eyes of a woman of power you may catch up with her a little. She has years of truth ahead of you...Open yourself with love. Listen from your heart. If a camel is walking down a path and another camel passes him, the fqrst camel will go faster to keep up" (Lynn Andrews on the concept of quickening)

Our relationships shape our experiences, just as our experiences shape our relationships. Sometimes they help us go faster, sometimes they help us to slow down, enjoy the moment, be more present, and to "make a memory". It is in these moments we make our memories as well as create a space for something (new) to happen. Grandma gave me many gifts that I have come to appreciate even more with time. As I approach my birthday I am reminded that there is such fortune in having family and friends, and much to be grateful for.

Namaste.