Dogwoods and rhodies

Last week while out randomly walking the neighborhood streets I came upon a sight so beautiful that I went back yesterday with the camera. Unfortunately, we had a lot of rain over the weekend so most of what made it so beautiful was missing. You can sort of see to the right and left, remnants of pink dogwood, along with the gorgeous pink rhododendrons. I think they'll perk up, but the petals were droopy from sheer water saturation and hadn't been hit by the sun to dry out.

Fortunately, there were lots of other things to see along my path. Rhodies and dogwoods. Being a southern girl, dogwoods are near and dear to my heart. But the local rhodies are a right up there with them.

This small dogwood had the advantage of being in the full sun so its petals had a chance to dry out. There were a few others along the way, but nothing so spectacular as the first photo should and would have been had I perhaps been there a little later in the morning.

These blue flowers, whatever they are, are blooming in masses alongside this long running trail. Not well represented here, but my walk did not take me to the area where they are most prolific.

See why I love walking these neighborhoods? Something lovely to see year round, it seems.

Sourdough and other changes

I've spent the last 10 days or so tackling the challenge of raising a sourdough starter using only wild yeasts and lactobacilli in the air.The first two attempts failed miserably, and quickly. But being the stubborn sort, I wasn't about to give up that easily. On the third effort I actually had a mixture with bubbles in it by the 2nd morning.  Success!                                                             

As directed, I carefully weighed out the appropriate amount of starter using a digital

scale, added the exact amounts of water and flour and returned the jar of stuff to my room. Since it was bubbly, I didn't want to toss any of it, so I put the rest into another container and left it on the cupboard shelf in the kitchen. I did add a bit of flour to it.

By the following morning, the 'neglected' batch in the kitchen was far more bubbly than the 'coddled' batch in my room. Eventually, both ended up in the cupboard since that is infinitely easier, but I still kept two batches going, measuring the one carefully every morning and then feeding, and feeding the other one by feel.  As the days went on, sometimes one would be frothier than the other. I gave up the measuring because the 'neglected' jar was still usually better than the weighed batch. Sometimes, when one was frothier than the other, I'd mix them together and then reallocate into the two jars.

Yesterday, both were the frothiest yet -- lots of big bubbles throughout, showing on the sides and bottoms of the jars. Naturally, I didn't get a photo of that because I thought surely there'd be another opportunity. I added a bit of flour and when I went back upstairs an hour or so later the smaller of the two had totally erupted and overflowed onto the shelf! It wasn't all that full, but it was lively. Both were really lively, but have not regained that liveliness. The bottom photo above is how one of the batches looks right now, after a morning feeding and a few hours of fermentation. The other jar is a bit behind, but getting there. The top photo is of the 'neglected' batch after the first day, I believe.

I've satisfied myself that I can do it, and I've learned a lot about sourdough starters and baking in the process. If I were going to use it to bake something, I need to keep up this feeding routine for a few more days to make it nice and strong. But, realistically I will not be using it to bake with anytime soon because the process simply requires more space (counter and refrigerator) than I have available to me here. Nor do I want to bother keeping this healthy and alive for months without using it. So, the experiment is ending. I know I can do it now, so when I get a home of my own (hallelujah, that day will be!) I can make another one. It was fun and I loved the challenge.

Another reason for stopping now is that on April 1 we were given 60 days notice to vacate the premises because the owner is going to place it on the market! It'll be inconvenient to make a temporary move, certainly, but I can't say I'm sorry to move from this place.  Things seem really tense around here -- I know my roommate is annoyed by my morning-person movements and sounds (although I keep those to a minimum). She got angry in an email then later told me not to worry about it. Now I get the sense that she's angry again. Mind you, my biggest early-morning noise is the squeaky floor of my bedroom as I walk across it for a very necessary trip to the bathroom! No running water or other noises. It would help if she didn't stay up all night and want to sleep until noon, at least, every day. So -- I'm uncomfortable because I hate the idea that the simplest and most necessary things I do are bothering her. Hard to know what's really bothering her because we still rarely see one another. She's always smiling and gracious when we do meet, but there have been a couple of explosive, angry emails from her -- one last fall and another one a couple of weeks ago.

So -- it's off to find a new place to live. Not wanting too much excess baggage to take with me, such as a hungry sourdough starter. And I may need to settle for a temporary place where I have less cabinet and refrigerator space than I have now!

That's what's going on here today. Not exciting, but not totally dull, either. And I think it's time for a nap -- need to catch up on sleep since there was precious little of it last night.

The foibles of spring

Fifteen minutes ago I looked out my window and saw bright sunshine. Yes, there was a bit of darkness further west, but rain is expected around 10 so that made sense. I opted for a short walk. By the time I brushed my teeth and combed my hair, put on shoes and walked up the stairs it was raining! I heard it on the skylights when I got to the top of the stairs. I think it's already stopped -- but it won't be for long. I think there will be no more efforts to walk today. But -- that's ok, because we have sunshine on the horizon for the next 9 days, and some warm (80+) weather along with it for a day or so. I can wait.

I'm reading another book -- this one by Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat Pray Love fame), a non-fiction account about living a creative life. She talks about how she must be writing something or she will go mad. She also talks about not thinking or caring about how your writing is received, but merely writing for yourself. Because you have to. That's something I can relate to.

It's why I write here and on my other blogs. Because I have to. Not always, but when inspiration and need come together long enough, I have to. So I do. I don't worry about how people feel about it, and certainly not about how many people read what I write because then I'd really be depressed. My 'audience' is miniscule to non-existent. And I don't care. I've never cared, because I write for myself, because I have to.

There was a time when I had more energy to put into writing, and I was into it full bore. Those days are gone -- energy? What's that? Or, to be more precise, mental energy. I do well enough with physical energy, but that old bugaboo mental energy left me behind a good while back. Probably because I don't get enough sleep, probably because of stressors in my life, possibly because of boredom in my life. Whatever. Whyever. Mental energy is rare these days.

So this is what's left to me, and I'm thankful to have it. Because you see, I really need to write. Something. Anything.

When a horse is not merely a horse

Now there's a real Arabian horse! A desert-bred Arabian, not to be confused with the overbred and almost unrecognizable modern-day Western-bred variety. I speak as a person obsessed with Arabs since my teens, and someone who has owned a couple in my time. This horse is beautiful, quintessential to the fabled breed.  Photo from Fantasia Horse Festival in Algeria, via CNN. Lots of lovely photos in this article, photos that could have as easily been taken 100 years ago or, had photography existed then, several hundred years ago. Yet they are current.

The Oregon Trail

This is the most extraordinary book! I grabbed it randomly off a library shelf because I'm always interested in history of places I live or have connections to.

Little did I realize that this is not a history book, per se. There's lots of detailed history of the trail woven through it, but basically it's an account of a trip two brothers took over the trail, from St. Josephs MO to Oregon, in 2011 in the very wagon shown on the cover!

The brother who wrote the book is a lifelong journalist and the book is very well written. He weaves the 2011 trip, detailed history of the pioneer travel (lots of research and actual journal entries of actual people who did it), as well as a trip he went on with his father and some siblings back in 1958, on the east coast. The brothers are opposite in personality and play off one another throughout the book. Rinker, the journalist, is quieter, a bit uptight and cautious, while his brother Nick is boisterous and fearless and charges into the most harrowing circumstances with glee and abandon.

I never knew mules could be so interesting! He gives a good background on their use and development, the different crosses and types that exist, what type works best for what use, and basically more than I ever thought I wanted to know about mules. But, it was interesting and the three that towed their wagon had very distinct personalities.

It's an astonishing story of perseverance over things going wrong and unimagined difficulties across almost 2000 miles of trail. All along the way people helped them, welcomed them, got them out of difficult situations. In long-distance hiking these kinds of people are called trail magic. He calls it trail angels.

Great book. Highly recommended, although it certainly did spur my need for an adventure of my own!

I'm baaaaack!

Yes, it's early and no, I don't want to talk about it. Although I probably will. Let's just say that my own inner demons took over my sane mind and I fled to escape them, rather than staying and dealing with them. That's why I went -- to slay these particular evil demons in a safe place with a trusted teacher!

There were extenuating circumstances, but they were just excuses, in the end. A redwood toppled because of heavy rains the day before I arrived, taking down some -- but thankfully not all -- power lines. There was power in the main building/kitchen, and in the meditation hall, but the dorms were dark and the water pump incapacitated. Think, no toilets for about 13 people! I jumped in to help my friend the following day, hauling water from the creek into big garbage cans by the bathrooms so people could flush that way. Drinking water was ordered/some picked up. We moved into the monk's quarters, which had partial electricity and lots of heaters, divvied it up into male/female sections, cleaned it, got it as comfy as possible. Cleaned out the meditation room, made it look nice, jury-rigged some heat in there. Can you believe only one power outlet in that huge big room? Lots of extension cords to power a couple of space heaters and the PA system. Others arrived during the afternoon, but I took my out-of-town retreat manager friend into Santa Rosa for some necessities at Costco and Target.

So when meditation began on Saturday morning all was well for awhile -- I'm used to coping with fairly rustic life at the hermitage in Jenner, after all -- but by late evening I was sitting in the hall freezing and miserable and unable to pay attention to meditation, decided to leave, told my friend who told the teacher. Things improved a bit -- I got a heater in my room, which really helped, and an electric throw to put over my sleeping bag. Into the meditation hall again at 4:30am, cold, sleepy, tired, and all that was in my mind was the idea that 'I cannot face this for the next two weeks". 'This' wasn't the cold -- there would be workers coming on Monday to fix the power and water, we could move back to the dorms, and the sun was supposed to shine and warm everything up. 'This' was those inner demons that kept me from meditating properly, and they dominated my thoughts. I packed and loaded the car, waited through breakfast to say goodbye to the teacher, who tried to change my mind. I almost listened, and wish I had. But in the end, I fled. So I've been home a week and am just now feeling almost normal. The demons are still there but I can distract myself from them. I have suggestions on how to get rid of them, but not the energy to sit and follow instructions.

In addition to that, it's been terribly tense here at home the past week, too. I'm about ready to give notice and find another place to live for a few more months. It's untenable as it is, certainly.

So that's been my week or two. Life is bound to get better!  I've let go of trying to diet and/or stick to exercise routine for now. I know how to eat right, and I'm doing that without making sure I have enough or not too many calories every day. I've been too stressed and tired to add the stress of exercise to the mix, although I did go out for a half hour this morning, between rain showers. It feels good to be free of all that, even if it turns out to be temporary. I'm watching the scale and how I feel, and so far all is good. That's enough.

Hope for happier news next time we talk.

Pat Conroy

My world lost some of its light sometime during the night when I turned on the radio and learned of the death of Pat Conroy.

The man was a genius. A tortured genius, to be sure, but many of us have had unpleasant childhoods. What he had above and beyond a horrific childhood and tortured adulthood was the ability to write the English language with poetic beauty. He wrote of horrible things, but did it with such beauty and elegance that we were enthralled. I have read and often reread almost all of his books, and seen most of the ensuing movies. Oddly enough, my favorite of the bunch was Conrack, the first, derived from one of his first books The Water is Wide.

He first came to my attention way back in the late 1980s when I walked into a bookstore on Peachtree Road in the Buckhead section of Atlanta and found a large in-your-face display of trade paperback copies of The Prince of Tides. My literary life was changed forever. I remember reading the pages with utter astonishment, often reading sentences or paragraphs over and over simply to soak in the beauty and lyrical nature so inherent in his writing. He had a way of stringing common words together with uncommon skill and beauty. Profound. Little did I know that he lived not far from me at the time, on a street I traveled with some frequency.

I've looked forward to each new release since. Now, there will be no more. He was overweight for many years, led an indulgent lifestyle that wasn't the healthiest, and those things inevitably lead to deterioration and death of a human body. I'm happy that he found contentment and release from the tortures about his father with The Death of Santini, and that he found happiness in his later years with his third marriage. He lived and died in the place he loved best: Beaufort, SC. Having been there, thinking of him all the time I explored the town and wondering which of the historic homes was the one he'd lived in as a child, I can fully understand what drew him there. If money wasn't an issue, Beaufort would certainly be near the top of any list of places I'd like to live. Unfortunately, a great light has left Beaufort and its aura forever changed. RIP.

Rancho Gordo Marcella Beans -- Yum!

Baked Marcella Beans with Chicken. Monochrome, but good.

I've been a fan of Rancho Gordo beans for a long time, and the love affair continues.

Back in 2009 I already knew about them, but don't think I had tried any. Too pricey to mail order (although I've done that once or twice since). Visiting a friend in Napa in August 2009 I went on a quest and found them on a store shelf -- brought home several pounds. I've cooked many of them over the intervening years, always wonderful, but I can only find two entries on the blog about them.

First, I tried Spring Lamb with Flageolets, from the Rancho Gordo Cookbook. Then not too much later, I tried Senate Bean Soup from the cookbook, which I've made often. It's a favorite. I rarely visit Napa without snagging a few pounds -- last time, unbelievably a year and a half ago now -- I stopped at their store for the first time. Those beans are long gone.

Recently, a local friend who I'd turned on to the brand ordered some, and ordered some as a gift for me as well. Nice friend! I was hot to trot to try these new Marcella beans, named after the late Marcella Hazan.

I've been mulling over how to best use them, finally decided upon a combination of two recipes Tweeted out by Steve Sando, Mr. Rancho Gordo @RanchoGordo. Baked in the oven, lots of onion and garlic and rosemary, with chicken thighs. And oh yeah, some of that fabulous chicken stock I made last week, all glutinous and filled with flavor.

Here's the finished product -- and it tastes as good as (possibly even better than) it looks.

I'm not great at all details of the recipe, since I kind of made it up on the fly, but here's the basics.

1/2 lb Marcella Beans, soaked overnight
1 yellow onion, sliced
8-10 cloves of whole garlic,  peeled
3 springs of fresh Rosemary
4 chicken thighs
1.5 cups homemade stock
2-3 cups water


Process: Browned chicken in 2 Tbsp olive oil, removed. Sauteed onions in the same pan, added garlic cloves. Let it cook until browned, added soaked beans, rosemary stock and water to cover well. Plopped chicken on top, put it all uncovered into 350 degree oven, baked for a couple of hours until beans were tender and creamy. After I took the above photo, I removed the chicken to a dish then put the beans back in the oven to cook another 30 minutes or so. I like my beans just at the point where they're falling apart and a rich, thick broth forms. Added salt (important to add this after beans are cooked). Then once cooled, I put the whole thing in the fridge so it could mellow for a day, as beans always seem to taste better after that.

Had some for lunch today, and I gotta say -- Dynamite!  Lots of calories, but a big protein payoff, too. I get to have this for lunch for 3 more days, too. No way I'm going to freeze some for later.

Patience is the best meditation

Alas, life is slow and dull. Whine. I feel as if I'm just treading water, waiting for something more interesting to happen. And in a way, of course, that's exactly what I'm doing. I'm putting many things on hold until I'm able to move into an apartment of my own, hopefully sometime this summer. Life is like that when you have a roommate -- even a good roommate such as mine. I never get past the idea that it's her house, which it is. It colors everything I do, at all hours of the day and night.

I decided I wanted to try making kefir, rather than yogurt, since it's so much easier. I ordered some fresh kefir grains (actually, more like large cottage cheese curds) from Ohio and they arrived today, went right into a jar with a couple of cups of milk. Twenty-four hours later, I should have kefir. Supposedly, I should repeat the process daily -- straining the grains from the kefir then putting them into some fresh milk. That would give me way more kefir than I need or want to drink -- because of calories, of course. I'll see if my roommate is a kefir fan and maybe share some with her, and maybe just store them for a couple of days in between using them. After all, they were mailed Monday from Ohio, arrived here today (Wednesday) and are still fresh and viable. SO much easier than yogurt, with the same benefits, although I do wonder if keeping the grains happy will become demanding.

I got myself a second twitter account today -- think I'm getting obsessed? Actually, all of my "many" (all 25 or so) followers are only interested in the initial subject of the Oregon Ducks, and I've felt constrained often about sending tweets about my other interests. Every time I do that, it seems that one or two followers drop off. Now, I fully realize that I only know one of these people personally and really don't care whether or not they drop off, but still, it's the pull of social media, I suppose. So the new one is for food and politics and whatever else comes into my life.

One thing that does keep the boredom at bay is the fermentation projects. Have had something called kahm yeast on the peppers and threatening on the kraut. It's common, and harmless,  but looks really weird. Had me going for a few days while I learned more about it. Kraut due to be out of the crock on Saturday, then on to more pickles. I learned this week that for maximum probiotic development everything needs at least 3 weeks fermentation, as there are 3 different stages of probiotic development. More flavorful too, hopefully. And the probiotics are what it's all about.

Is it spring? Or does it just feel that way?

Beautiful scene from a webcam in Stanley, ID yesterday morning.

Hard to believe that it's around 3:30 in the afternoon on February 25 and I'm sitting in my room with the window wide open (all afternoon) dressed in my usual sweats, heat off, and I'm too warm! Memory says we always have some days like this in February, but this one seems particularly welcome. Nearby Wunderground station says it's 59.5 out there at the moment, but it seems far warmer. Sunny, no wind. Perfect day to be outside. I, of course, have not taken full advantage of that (somehow I never do these days!) but I have been out there a few times, walking around 'the block' and doing some chores. Loverly. Around the neighborhood on my walks I see lots of purple crocus and daffodils. Every now and then I get a whiff of some spectacularly perfumed plant but so far have been unable to find a flowering bush in any of the locations.

I don't know what's going on, but lately I seem to have more energy during the day than I know how to handle. Not complaining, as it's quite a welcome relief from the old lethargic status quo, but of course my mind wants to know why this is happening. Could be a lot of things: healthy food, enough exercise, fun things (my fermentation items) to fill my time, and yes -- even the loss of 20 pounds over the last year might also have something to do with it. I'd think that would be more psychological than physical, however, since this is something new and the weight loss has been slow and over a long period of time. Whatever it is, it's keeping me up and active most of the time.

All those scale fluctuations I talked about finally settled down into a nice lower number this week, including on weights and measures day yesterday, and was still lower today, rather than going back up. Hopefully, the downward trend will continue.

I took my last real carb, corn tortillas, out of the diet starting Sunday or Monday and that's when the scale started being my friend. I know I can't eat any kind of grains -- whether flour or, apparently, corn -- on a consistent basis without gaining weight, but since it was going down all year I thought the corn was maybe ok. Not! And that's ok. I can have them on occasion, but as with beer and wine and sugars and lots of other goodies, I'm happy to exclude them as long as I'm at such a low calorie intake, and settle on more nutritious foods. Not counting the occasional comfort food, such as the fish & chips last Saturday and the Newman's Own healthy pizza today, that is. Those help psychologically, and don't seem to hurt the waistline as long as I balance the calories the rest of the day.

Started an easy yoga class last Friday, will go again tomorrow. So beautifully relaxing! Not overly challenging, but still good for me. Meets at noon, which I don't like, but the alternative is evening and I really don't like that, so noon it is.  By Friday, my exercise energy has been fairly low so this is very welcome, while still giving me an hour of healthy exercise. Then, I crash all weekend!

Made some chicken stock for the freezer today. Every time I get a rotisserie chicken I save the carcass and all the bones/skin/whatever in the freezer for this purpose. It was starting to take up far too much room in there, so today seemed a good day to boil 'em down. Great for beans and soups.

Don't remember if I mentioned it, but a few weeks ago I got a bug in my bonnet to make some sriracha-style hot sauce. I expect that happened when I found out that the real sriracha is actually produced through fermentation. So -- bought the right kind of peppers, added a bunch of garlic and put it to ferment. That was almost two weeks ago. I moved it around from cooler to warmer spaces to see if I could see signs of fermentation, but no bubbles. My fermentation experts assure me that 'stuff is happening' whether or not there are bubbles. My point is that the stuff is in my room at the moment and it smells so good I can hardly stand it! Want to taste it so bad, but it has another 3 weeks left to ferment before it's ready. Aarrrrgggghhh!!

So that's my less-than-exciting life. It's working OK for me at the moment.