“The Most Immediate Breath of Life”

Posted on January 27, 2012 by

“We lay aside letters never to read them again, and at last we destroy them out of discretion, and so disappears the most beautiful, the most immediate breath of life, irrecoverable for ourselves and for others.”
                                                Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Little did Goethe know, when he wrote those words at the end of the Eighteenth Century, that letters would be destroyed, not by throwing them away, but by technology.  Letters have been replaced by phone calls, emails, and text messages.  As Liz Carpenter said, “What a lot we lost when we stopped writing letters.  You can’t reread a phone call.”

Every once in awhile, I read some of the family letters which have been passed down to me from my parents.  They are an intimate look into the lives of people who no longer walk this earth.  Yet those people come alive for me in their words.  Take this letter my father’s father wrote to my mother’s parents during World War II.  My parents had eloped in Ohio, and shortly after, my father left for the South Pacific.  My mother’s parents lived in Kentucky; my father’s in Manhattan.  They had not met yet, and my father’s parents had not even met my mother, Dorothy, and were eagerly looking forward to a visit from her.  What a lot is revealed in these words:

I have many other letters, including the love letters my father and mother sent back and forth to each other during the war, and letters from as far back as 1926 when my great-grandfather wrote letters to his little girl, my grandmother, when she was a young bride with two small babies, one of whom was my mother.  What treasures!

One of my New Year’s resolutions is to start writing letters, something that I’ve yet to get to, but I’m rethinking that goal.  What is the point of writing a letter, paying for postage, sticking it in the mail, and then waiting for several days or nearly a week for it to arrive at its destination when you can send an email instantly?  Would anyone really appreciate the effort and keep the letters as I’ve kept those old ones?  Probably not.  Life is not the same.  People don’t have as much patience.  The immediacy of an email or a phone call or a text and a quick response is what people are looking for.  But reading those old letters over and over again make me believe, like Liz Carpenter, that we’ve lost a lot.

Posted in Favorite posts | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 20 Comments

Making Bread on a Dreary January Day

Posted on January 24, 2012 by

There’s something about making bread in winter that takes the dreariness out of the day. Yesterday I made four loaves of my favorite whole wheat bread and thought I’d share the recipe with you.  If you’ve never made bread before, this would be a good recipe to start with.  If you are a regular bread baker, then you will appreciate how versatile this recipe is.

This recipe makes four small loaves (8×4-inch pans) or three large loaves (9×5-inch pans).  It’s a lot of dough to handle, but it’s easy for me because of the Mirro Gold-fashioned Bread Mixer my mother bought me in 1976.  I looked for it online to see if I could find a website for you, but it has been relegated to the “vintage” kitchen appliance sites.  You can still find them, if you look at sites like e-Bay, and it would be well worth it to find one if you like making bread in large quantities.  You put all the ingredients in, assemble the dough hook and handle, and crank it around and around.  My children loved to take turns “kneading” the dough.

Here is the recipe:

5 cups water or milk
1 cup honey
3 1/2 Tablespoons or packages yeast (not the quick rise)
1/2 cup oil
2 Tablespoons salt
10 cups whole wheat flour
2 cups white flour

Dissolve the yeast in 1 cup of very warm water (110-115 degrees) with a little bit of the honey.  Let it sit for 10 minutes to see if the yeast is active and spongy.  It it’s not, throw it out and start again with fresh yeast.  Don’t skip this step!

Dump the yeast mixture in a very large bowl.  Add the rest of the warm water (you can use warm milk, if you wish, or a combination of the two), the honey, oil, salt, and the two cups of white flour.  Stir the flour in and keep adding more flour until you can’t stir it anymore.  Put some flour on your work table, turn the dough out onto it, and work the remaining flour in.  You may not need all the flour.  Knead the dough for about eight minutes until it is smooth and elastic.

Grease a very large bowl and put the dough in it, turning it over until it is greased on all sides.  Cover the dough with a damp dishtowel and then another dry towel and let it rise until double in bulk, about an hour or a little more.  Punch it down, divide it into 3 or 4 loaves, shape it by pressing each portion flat and then rolling it up and tucking the ends under, and place in greased bread pans.  Cover the pans with dishtowels and let rise again for another 1/2 hour until dough is just beginning to rise above the top edge of the pan (do not over rise).  Bake at 375 degrees for 35 minutes for small loaves and 40-45 minutes for large loaves.  Watch them and cover them loosely with aluminum foil if they are getting too brown.  As soon as you take them out of the oven, turn them out of their pans and cool on racks.

The great thing about this recipe is that it is so adaptable.  You may use all whole wheat flour or all white flour.  You can add leftover cereals or grains to the recipe and cut back on the flour.  I put about a cup of dry oatmeal and a little flaxseed in my bread yesterday.  You can add herbs or onion or raisins and cinnamon.  This dough can also be used for pizza.  Use your imagination.  Just remember that homemade yeast bread spoils quickly, so freeze the loaves you aren’t eating right away or giving away.  I would love to hear from you if you make this.  And I hope you find that vintage Mirro bread maker!

Here are more pictures from yesterday.

Stirring the ingredients together

Kneading is finished. Even with the Mirro bread maker, I like to finish the last of the kneading by hand.

Dough has doubled and is ready to be punched down

Risen and ready for the oven

Finished product. While the loaves are still hot, I like to take a stick of butter and glaze the tops to keep the crust soft. If you don't have real butter, don't bother. Also, don't cut the loaves while they are hot or they could collapse.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

Never Leave Home Without Your Eyebrows

Posted on January 23, 2012 by

“Never leave home without your eyebrows” was one of the Mom-isms I learned at an early age from my mother.  Most moms struggle with their adolescent daughters about the make-up issue when girls, starting in middle school, think they are old enough to wear make-up to school. Their mothers don’t, and the battle begins.  Girls leave home with innocent faces freshly scrubbed, only to arrive at their first class with a face found on a streetwalker.  They smuggle cosmetics onto school premises and share with each other, and are only caught when one day they arrive home, forgetting to scrub the evidence from their once cherubic features.

But that wasn’t the case in my house.  My mother was always a fashion plate when I was growing up.  I don’t know how any normal woman can look as beautiful as my mom did in the kitchen, first thing in the morning.  Obviously, she was from another planet, and I was too thick to figure it out.  We were both redheads with fair complexions and eyebrows so light, you could hardly tell we had any.  My mother would draw mine in and brush the pencil marks with her eyebrow brush.  Then she’d take me to the mirror, and with her hands on my shoulders, she would turn me to face it and say, “Now, doesn’t that look so much better?  Without your eyebrows, it looks like you don’t have any expression.”

As I got a little older, she expected me to come to the breakfast table with my eyebrows already on.  She also told me a little pale lipstick wouldn’t hurt either.  Make-up wasn’t something I was particularly interested in, but I went along with it because it was obviously important to my mother, as if teaching her daughter how to look put-together was an important part of being a good mother.

My daughter would have loved to have grown up under the direction of my mother.  The Lord doesn’t usually make mistakes, but I have to tell you, He got it all wrong this time.  My mother was the mother my daughter was meant to have.  My daughter was one of the most fashionable girls in school, and I can’t take any credit for it.  I think she was fashionable in spite of me.  But I still don’t walk out of the house without my eyebrows and a dab of lipstick.  My mother did her job well.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 28 Comments

The Five and Dime

Posted on January 20, 2012 by

For Christmas my brother and sister-in-law gave me a book entitled Good Poems, which are the poems that Garrison Keillor selects and reads on his NPR program, The Writer’s Almanac.  This morning I read a poem called “Woolworth’s” by Mark Irwin, and it brought back memories  of our five and dime store in the middle of Fairfield Center in Connecticut.  On Saturdays I would go with my parents to the center.  While my mother went to the stationery or Trudy’s, the women’s dress shop, and my father went to the hardware store, I would wander into the five and dime, my allowance burning a hole in my pocket.

What a marvelous place!  At the back of the store, the first place I’d run was the menagerie of  parakeets, turtles, hamsters, and little white mice.  (I always wanted a mouse but had to settle for a turtle.)  There were beautiful bolts of fabric and tables with stacks of pattern books.  I’d sit at one of the tables and search through the books, daydreaming of how a certain outfit would look if my grandmother made it for me.

Though I looked at everything in the store each time I went in, only two things were slated to take my money from me:  animal crackers and “fine” jewelry.  Yes, I had a penchant for flashy gold and ruby or emerald rings, the kind that had the adjustable bands that fit three times around my tiny finger and turned it green, and the sparkly glass that lost its luster after a few turns making mud pies.  And the animal crackers?  I wasn’t even fond of them, but I liked the circus wagon box they came in, and I loved seeing my brother’s delighted face when I gave him the cookies inside.  He was rather frugal with his money and never would have bought them for himself.  Why should he, when his sister was always so willing to provide?

Yes, we have dollar stores today, but they can’t hold a candle to the old five and dimes.  Those old stores were neat and orderly, like the sales women in their starched white blouses and pencil-straight skirts.  The glass counters were cleaned of fingerprints and the imprint of little noses pressed up against the glass as eager faces perused the merchandise behind them.  They were part of the Saturday magic with Mom and Dad in the center of town.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 31 Comments

Weekly Photo Challenge: Peaceful

Posted on January 19, 2012 by

Lieutenant River, East Lyme, Connectictut

Stonington, Connecticut

Morning on Virginia Beach

Lily Pond in Ogunquit, Maine

Posted in Just Blogging, pictures | Tagged , , , , , , , | 25 Comments

What If the First Phase Is the Whole Shebang?

Posted on January 17, 2012 by

You’ve done it yourself.  I know you have.  You’ve taken a look at your home and decided you needed to update it or change it in some way.  You started by dreaming big.  Really big.  You think about getting a contractor and tearing down a wall or two, putting in heated tile floors in the bathroom and a jacuzzi, the Viking stove in the kitchen, even though you don’t have gas (how much could it cost to have gas lines installed.  Is that even possible?).  And then you start estimating the cost.  You look in your piggy bank, and your dreams shrink.  It’s like you want the Mercedes CLS 550, but you buy the Hyundai Sonata.

For us, it is our kitchen.  We had a huge kitchen when we lived in San Antonio, and I had one of those gourmet, stainless steel, 46-inch dual fuel stoves with side-by-side double ovens.  Now I have a little galley kitchen and we don’t have gas.  We started dreaming how we could turn this into as close to a dream kitchen as we could, working with its limited size.  Our plans included knocking out one portion of a wall, reconfiguring one of the counters, which would have necessitated also knocking out the fireplace in the family room and replacing it with a wall so we could move the couch to another wall, tearing out the cabinets and replacing them with new ones, one of those beautiful farmhouse sinks, granite countertops, new dishwasher and new stove.  For starters.

Last weekend we began by pulling off the dated wallpaper and scrubbing the walls down to remove the wallpaper paste.  During the week, my husband taped and floated and put layers upon layers of spackle on the walls.  This past weekend we sanded, put primer on the walls, and finally painted the walls with a soft yellow.  It has been exhausting, but already the kitchen looks so much better.

I think we’re done.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments

Thanks, Dad. I Finally Get It.

Posted on January 12, 2012 by

“Why did the chicken cross the road?”
“Oh, for some fowl reason.”

I’ve been in a fowl foul mood today. I’ve been wanting to back off of some commitments, and every time I’ve tried, I chicken out. I have reasons that are important to me, but when I say them aloud, they seem so wimpy.

I’ve always had a mild problem with anxiety. (I can hear my husband laughing hysterically. Mild?) I’m always afraid to disappoint someone, so it’s rather difficult for me to say no. Why is it so easy for some people? I struggle with this all the time, but it only increases my anxiety as I get pulled further and further into things I want to get out of.

Today in Yoga, I couldn’t let my mind rest, because I finally decided I was going to give notice I was leaving a volunteer position. I would give six months so I don’t leave anyone high and dry. During nearly the entire Yoga session, I kept rehearsing all the reasons I would present to our leader for why I was leaving. Would anyone really understand? Were the reasons compelling enough to anyone but me?

And then I heard my father’s words in my head. Whenever I tried to explain why I was or wasn’t going to do something, he would put his hand up and stop me. “Susan, you don’t need to explain. Your reasons are your reasons. Do want you want to do.” Here I am in my sixties finally letting that sink in. I don’t have to convince anyone my reasons are justifiable or worthy enough. How liberating that thought is. The bonus was that I came to that realization just in time to be able to enjoy the Final Relaxation.

I’m going to stick with my decision and not feel guilty. Well, I’ll try not to feel guilty…and I’ll try to stick to my decision. And I won’t feel like I have to offer a reason that is “acceptable.”

“Hi, __________. I’m sorry I have to back out of my commitment, but we’re moving to Australia…”

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , | 46 Comments

2011 in Review

Posted on January 12, 2012 by

I’m a little slow at noticing things, and I just came across this cool report that WordPress puts together for bloggers.  Thought I’d post it, since Im also slow in writing another new post, and thank everyone of you who have visited my site and read my ramblings. Also, a ton of thanks to you who take the time to comment or even click the like button.  I know blogging takes a lot of our time, including keeping up with each other’s blogs, so thanks a bunch.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

The concert hall at the Sydney Opera House holds 2,700 people. This blog was viewed about 25,000 times in 2011. If it were a concert at Sydney Opera House, it would take about 9 sold-out performances for that many people to see it.

Click here to see the complete report.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , | 26 Comments

The Wisdom That Comes With Age

Posted on January 10, 2012 by

At the start of a new year, it is always nice to reflect on life and the lessons it has taught you.  Since my birthday occurs at the beginning of the year, it makes this yearly stock-taking seem all the more appropriate.  I also feel that we older people have a responsibility to pass on our wisdom to those of you who do not have the insights gained from advancing age, and so, in the spirit of magnanimity, I will briefly share some with you.
1. Throwing a Swiffer dusting sheet into the dryer will not make your clothes soft and wrinkle-free. (Note: The reciprocal axiom is that fabric softener sheets on your Swiffer mop will not pick up dust on your floors.)
2. If you put something away for safe keeping, it’s a good idea to write down where you put it.  Of course, this assumes you will remember where you wrote it down or even if you wrote it down.
3. Take the pizza cutter out of the pizza box before you throw the box away, especially if it is the Pampered Chef one, the holy grail of pizza cutters.  Blaming your houseguests for stealing it can therefore be avoided.  (So sorry, J and A.  My bad.)
4.   Newer ovens automatically shut off after twelve hours of being left on of continuous use.  Apparently.
5.  If you come out of the store and can’t find your car in the parking lot, don’t panic.  It is likely you walked.
6.  Remember when you laughed at your mother for wearing elastic waist pants?  Shame on you.
7.  If you forget to take your glasses off when you get into bed at night, and your spouse makes some “cute” remark about it, tell him you just wanted to see who you were sleeping with.
8.  Someday you will learn to cook for less than the five of you.  Until that day, enjoy the leftovers.
9.  Don’t wait to use those special pottery dishes until they are to0 heavy for you to pick up.
10. Think young.  It takes more energy to think old.

From time to time, I may share more of my wisdom with you.  If, at that time, my thoughts seem peculiarly similar to those above, you will be kind enough not to point that out.  Won’t you.

Posted in Just Blogging | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 38 Comments