Drumroll Please!

Today is a quiet rainy Sunday after three days of windy summer storming. I took a temp shift at Creative Functions lat night to feed the bank account, which is hungrier than ever these days. Creative Functions is a company that does catering for events of all kinds. Last night was a wedding for 180. It was smooth running. The fiery chef rules mostly by intimidation, although he usually leaves me alone in that respect, although I have found myself on the hot seat before. I haven't worked there for nearly a year and the staff has turned over a lot. I worked with another American named Jim who was placid and competent. Another kitchen staff was Sam, who is from China and was emphatic about everything being done precisely the way he learned it. This drove me 'round the bend and it took a lot of restraint to not give him the "I was in the food business when you were born, and then I started a restaurant..... survival... blah blah ... innovation is important... blah blah , more than one way to do things..." instead I decided to let him do the jobs he found me doing "incorrectly". That was a fine solution indeed. He got stuck with the tail end of things and I got to blaze on and start something new (although, sometimes he was right on my tail, in no time). My garnishes perplexed him, reaching a little farther than he's used to, I guess. My old funky looking knife (a svelte heirloom French Sabatier) got a puzzled stare, Oh Sam, perfection comes in many seemingly imperfect forms. I need to remember that, myself Note to self: Perfection comes in many seemingly imperfect forms.

Desmond and Lillian got a real drum kit this week. Desmond has always shown fascination for drums and drummers. I figured it would be good for him to have a real drum set since the crappy toy one we got him for Christmas didn't last even Christmas day without coming apart and now it is just debris in the toy box. The drum set is RED. When Desmond is frustrated we send him to the drums and he pounds it out and then we cheer. I hope that is healthy and not reinforcing his uncomfortable feelings of frustration. We do cheer for other times, too. We also cheer for Lillian when she gets her little rock and roll booty in there and tears it up (it's hilarious). We have some family sessions where we make up simple rhyming lyrics and turn up the karaoke microphone on our t v, get out the ukulele and get down to some jamming. The kids always seem to love something more if the grown ups are actually willing to invest their time in it. This sometimes creates a tension for the grown up who is trying to launch the child/children into something so they can get a "darn thing done" and slip out from the equation eventually. By the way, a ukulele is no match for a drum set. I fear we need an electric ukulele, now. Here is a little video I took of Dessie this morning.

Today is a day dedicated to my fiber arts project.

Today I wont take much time here to write because I'm picking up a big white parachute to reinforce my sculpture installation. I also have my first corporate sponsor to visit: (here is the website http://www.shademakers.com/ they have nice strong hardware to safely display my work. Its good to get out of the mind and into the art. Kate

Recipe of the week: Classic New York Cheesecake

This is a modified version of the Cheesecake served at Sea Fare, my grandma Cora’s restaurant on Hood canal. Mary Wing, her business partner, got it indirectly, from Delmonico’s Restaurant in New York which was famous for many things, including their cheesecake. I sold hundreds of them as part of the wholesale baking I did out of my tiny restaurant on San Juan Island. It was often the last chore of the week, on Friday evening, to lug them on sheet pans down the rickety back staircase at Roche Harbor Resort where bustling chefs, sometimes smiling, sometimes grunting, would make room for them.

It is simple and produces a solid indulgent hunk of a slice, the zippy topping is optional. It is lovely with fresh berries, or even thawed frozen ones with a little sugar (in winter).

Classic New York Cheesecake Yield: 1 cake

1-kilo or 2 pounds quality cream cheese

1 1/2 cups sugar

'/4 cup or 4 tablespoons flour

1/4 cup cream or orange juice

2 tablespoons good vanilla

6 eggs

mix thoroughly in food processor with “s” blade or in mixer with whip, being careful not to whip too much air into the batter.

base or crust

2 cups graham cracker crumbs

¼ cup white or brown sugar

½ cup melted butter

Combine crumbs, butter and sugar and press lightly on the bottom and up the sides of a medium (10 inch) spring form or cheesecake pan. Pour cheesecake batter on top, don't overfill or when it bakes it will topple over the side and fall off and your cheesecake will look funny. Bake in 325 degree low fan oven for 75 minutes or more. Jiggle slightly and the middle should NOT seem at all liquid. Turn off oven and let rest for an hour. Remove and cool completely then chill. If the cake is stuck set on stove top burner on medium for about 30 seconds or use torch ( briefly) on outside of pan to release the crust from the pan.

Optional topping: 30 grams sour cream, 2 Tablespoons lemon juice, 3 tablespoons cast sugar. Blend by hand until there is no detectable graininess. top and spread out on cheesecake but leave edges uncovered (1-2 cm around the edge free of topping)

Its Been Busy!

I have decided to write daily blog entries for a while. I am also submitting a recipe a week. The first one is my simple but first rate cheesecake recipe. It has family history and it is good in all seasons. It is a special occasion dessert due to its decadence.

I have arrived at the St Heliers Library. I walked from home along the shoreline for about an hour and a half to get here. Its a stunning day. St Heliers is a very civilized and well equipped suburb. It is sophisticated but not stuffy. New Zealand has wonderful libraries. My former San Juan Island library is hard to beat, though.

It has been an eventful couple of weeks here in Auckland. The whole family, Jordan, Desmond Lillian and I, went to a great music and art festival at Topapakanga reserve, about 90 minutes from home. One paid for admission for the whole weekend and that included camping area and facilities. We arrived at about dinner time on Friday night and the camping area was full of tents and people. We parked a good distance from the camping and lugged our gear to a gap in the tent community. There were probably 5000 people there. The reserve (a Kiwi word for park) was amazing and it was decked out with flair, to understate it! There were beautiful shimmery gauzy flags about one yard wide and four or five yards tall all around the grounds, wind whipping cooperatively with them. We took a vintage firetruck shuttle from a one legged man (not going unnoticed by our vocal kids) down to the stages, food pavilion and art vendors. The main stage was right up against the beach and had crazy wild light show effects. There were magical enormous trees, some with sculptural enhancements and lots of large star shaped lanterns swaying in the trees, lighting up the summer night. We danced in the blacklight strobe framed by a huge carved picture frame. The kids favorite scene was the giant swing made from a smooth slick slab of wood and swinging on four large ropes with room for about ten or so kids. The lighting was enchanting and the crowd was happy and peaceful. We didn't have a single drink or anything else for recreational enhancement but I suspect there were some chemicals cursing through the artful minds of some there. What a difference it is to go to a festival these days. Where there used to be drunken brawls and people upchucking, there are now kites being flown and people asking how one another, even strangers, are. Where there used to be shores littered with beer bottles there are now empty plastic water bottles (you cant win them all). Im not condoning the use of ecstasy or MDMA, but it sure is much more family friendly for the non users in the crowd. One highlight of the festival for me was a rollicking swim on Sunday, which was pretty stormy. I was within good view of the band with its two horns and spirited guitars and drums. I got to dance in the water which was in big gentle swells. I was in mermaidic bliss. Eventually I got the whole family to the dance floor and we watched act after act, particularly enjoying the Wellington Ukulele Orchestra who had devout fans and great senses of humor.

We had guests Bruce Robinson (Nina's early years elementary teacher) and his wife Tina Fisher for an overnight. They have been travelling for five or so months through Australia and New Zealand. It was nice to see them and hear of there life on the island and their travels. It was also refreshing to have fellow Americans around, especially ones that share a lot of our views and humor.

I went off to a weekend seminar of Avatar consciousness training. It was good and bad. The introductory section one that I attended was administered by “Avatar masters” using two textbooks by Harry Palmer, the founder. I found the techniques a little novel, particularly considering how simple they were. We saw one video each of the two ten hour days. The premise to the program is that we all are operating as our beliefs dictate and our belief systems are not always in good clean working order. You may have an outdated belief sabotaging your efforts and you can find it and “discreate” it if you take the full course (for $2900 NZD). I got my moneys worth from my two day trial and have a shiny new set of clarified consolidated goals and some awareness of old beliefs I have carried and the reassurance that I can slink free from them, on my own. One hook that the team used was the role Avatar can have in helping usher in a new enlightened planetary civilization, world peace and elevating the collective consciousness. I say: fine and dandy, we need that for sure! But does it have to be so expensive? Is the Star's Edge corporation (read Avatar) giving where it can, (it doesn't take a mathematician to figure out where they can give) It was the suffocating pressure that started to mount on the second day to get me to cut loose with the real money that turned me off, that and the chatty bragging about attending 'Wizards' year after year. Wizards is the grand Poobah (how do you spell Poobah poo bah Poo-ba...) of Avatar. It is where the truly elite Avatars get the really good lessons and the true tools to create civilizations. It costs over 7,000 USD and then you gotta figure out where to stay! Apparently those prices are still cheap, though, when you compare them to Scientology. Speaking of Scientology, there are plenty of connections there.

Let me just practice the good things I learned there, and there were some substantial ones, and take it in a homeopathic dose (that means a tiny bit only, Mom) It is amazing how much of our own blossoming we permit or prohibit in this life. My new Motto is: Reach high, but dont be afraid to eat the fruit on the ground either, just be sure to check for bugs.

I have been swimming five days a week for the last few weeks. I must say that the effort has been worth it and its not such a chore to get to the pool or the shore as it used to be. My workout time is getting longer to coincide with my upcoming event of Rangitoto to St Heliers swim which is 4.4 km and will probably take about an hour and a half if I'm swift. There are several hundred people who swim in it each year. I am sticking to my purist no wetsuit viewpoint (we in the togs are outnumbered 10 to 1 by the wetsuiters). I just hope that doesn't make me look more delicious from underneath, if you know what I mean. Im getting pretty hydrodynamic by now, especially from the coached swim sessions I go to twice a week. Last weeks tip really helped and Im sure Im swimming faster, but my neck muscles are rearranging and it has me sore. I think Ive grown in length from all that stretching and pulling.

I think the library is going to close soon. Id better get something else done, too. Its been nice blogging with you. Good day-night-morning .

Part 2 of the journey that started in the last blog entry

We traveled through New Zealand's Northlands with as much ruckus and fun as we could. We listened to Liam Finn's fine songs, that was the only music aboard our van. Desmond was excited about the white sands and was now a motivating force to find them. We made it up to the Cape Reinga turnoff and headed up the final stretch. I had read a description of a backpacker (hostel) up towards the sands and I wished Id had one of the guides they give away for reference. We passed up the turn off to 90 mile beach, having blasted down it on a tourist bus once already. It is a 30 mile stretch of beach that one can drive up or down. The tide is key, though, and if you don't travel avoiding high tide you'll be in danger of losing your car in the surf. I find cars on the beach to be perverse not to mention what driving on the beach can do to your cars salt sensitive underparts.

We rode through countryside that changed it's look frequently. The Northland is at one moment flat and spacious and five minutes later, wooded and cozy. It's February, the equivalent of August in the Northern Hemi which means there are tomatoes for sale down peoples drives and melons and fresh corn stands often. There is some interesting history of the Gum diggers up that way. Laborors came to dig for pockets of wood sap gum from these ancient HUGE Kauri trees that were buried on their side thousands of years ago. It was used for resins (in varnish and paints), marine glue and linoleum and was a primary export of Auckland between 1850 and 1950. Maori peoples used it for fire starting, when cooked with animal fat, as a tattooing pigment and as chewing gum. The big mystery is what caused the huge tsunami that leveled the area a few thousand years ago. Maybe it was a enormous meteor or the mother of earthquakes.

Even though it is much closer to the equator , The Northland reminds me of some of the towns and outposts in rural Alaska. One white knuckle departure onto a radically crooked gravel road which we shared with logging trucks took us (finally) down to a sleepy village called Te Hapua where we ambled our van along the shoreline and found a public toilet shack(finally). We poked around at the beach and ended up checking out a fisherman. The beach that we crossed to investigate the Native man's undertaking seemed like a regular basic beach. It was flat and sandy. After we got over I realized that it had become a rock shelf and it dropped off into pretty deep water at once, with the man standing right on the edge. He had a hand held winder rig and a hook with a half a slender silver fish for bait a few inches long. He was there to catch a King fish and he could tell they were coming because their dinner, which was a school of smaller fish were parading by , actually over and over again, in big circles. I was trying to point out the drop off to the kids and Lillian went right up to the edge to see it. We learned of the king fish farm that had gone belly up there years before and gazed at the eerie yet lovely and inviting white sand dunes across the inlet. As it turns out, the only way for us to get to them is by Kayak (which was quickly ruled out by the mom.) The fisherman decided to pull in his line when "the cousins" all came to the nearby dock to swim. As we drove out there were beautiful free roaming horses running on a beach. The houses were boxy shacks with various conversations and hanging out happening in the yards. It had that dusty sleepy feel of Aleutian villages. No one in too much of a hurry. The drive out was not nearly as nerve racking, for some reason. We went on to another outer realm called Paua where there was a huge majestic old barn or warehouse in full delapitation with a big sign on it DANGER ASBESTOS HAZARD! Desmond , of course, liked it and wanted to go in. We went out to a dock where a small and varied group of people were fishing and when I encountered what they were after a boy told me 'baby Snapper" . Snapper is a different and more prized fish here in New Zealand than the bargain fish by the same name in the United States. There seemed to be some sort of private entry campground behind a gate with a sign directing interest in camping to a store some 15 kilometers away. I looked at the campground and surmised that the scene was for much more equipped campers than we were with our impromptu packing job. So we headed on southward down the Aupouri Peninsula.

procrastination, get outta there...its time to squeeze turnips.

Some say that you cant squeeze blood out of a turnip. Im going to get blood out of a turnip! Itll just be turnip blood. But then it will be good for vegetarians to read, too. I keep waiting for the perfect content for the blog and the shining captivating childs story plot to curl out of the pen, all the topics in my journal, sitting waiting. Nothing seems important, entertaining or significant enough. Im going to write everyday regardless of what comes, though. Ill keep writing. I am also going to swim everyday. Even if I have to crumple up and throw away the drivel with my scaly salted, clorinated hands, Ill keep trying until something good comes out!



The fact is that a crafty writer can make a story about standing in line at the bank fascinating. After finally serving my last day at work to embark full time on my studies, I was dismayed to experiance no spontaneous productivity in my writing. What was wrong? Id cleared the slate, it was time to produce! I spent plenty of time planning what to write, and when I could write but the planning didnt bear written fruit!



I had to back myself off. Me maligning myself wasnt solving the problem. My husband seemed to be constantly working out his studies, why couldn't I? About a week ago I was downright surley from the dilemma.



My studies are a three pronged impliment of writing, competitive ocean swimming and an offbeat fiber arts project. I was rotating from one realm to the other without much progress on anything. The writing was particularly stumped. Then one thing happened. One night Lillian crawled up on the dest and tipped over a drink onto my laptop. There was a graceful spontaneous cooperation between Jordan and myself as he unplugged it and I tipped out the water, cringing. We dried it out and all seemed fine until I started writing on it. The computer was doing some pretty strange rearranging of my words. This was actually a blessing, though. I had bonified permission to get off my back about writing!







In a matter of a couple of days of catching up on swimmming and getting into a crazy wonderful repair of our hammock using fun old tea towels I was feeling worthy again. One evening I decided to go to do an exersize routine that winds around Panmure basin. It's one of those circuts with 12 different stations and a circle of 3.5 kilometers to walk. The walk is around the basin, a lakelike inlet that disappears twice a day with the tide. It is a lovely natural arena and the people are interesting to note: many shapes, sizes and modes. Desmond showed an interest in going and we tried to pry Jordan and Lillian from the couch to join us. Jordan windged about having to study, which is exactly what he'd done all day. Focussed at the computer with a sort of confused faraway look on his face. Each time I tried to get him to garden or play with me he had that somber response. I'd had enough. Was it so unreasonable to expect to fit somewhere into his agenda? Why did I care about it anyway?!


" I just want to do something with us all together!"


"I told you, I have to study, you and Desmond go by yourselves."


"harrumph!" I harumphed, "If we are so much a bother for you to relate to, maybe we should just go away for a few days and let you really study, without any of our distractions!"


Then there was this glimmer in Jordans eye. I could see that that sounded good to him. That made me even more irritated! So in the flash of an instant a trip was concieved and we packed an odd assortment of supplies and headed out at about 9:30 pm on a summer monday night, the last day of a three day weekend. Better late than never.


I was at a loss as to where we would go. I called my friend Helen and shared the bewilderment of my open ended travel plan. She was slightly encouraging and certainly a good listener, but going to her house was out of the question, due to her landlord living very close to her cottage and her recent evening visitors causing some tension with him. She having babysat my kids plenty of times, knew that trying to keep them mum would be futile. I decided, after serving my kids 50 cent ice cream cones from the drive-through, that I would head North. I drove along as the children slept. I reflected on the events, I called Jordan on my cell phone to make sure our parting hadnt left him ,or us rather, too estranged. I asked him if he wanted to know when we were coming back. He simply replied: " I trust you'll come home when you are ready and have gotten what you left for."


OK, now with that out of the way, I was looking forward... into the lights of endless cars, heading back into Auckland after the long weekend and also looking into the meteor shower in the righthand corner of the windsheild.


I stopped at a hotel about 90 minutes out of town, paid and carried the sleeping beauties into beds and flipped through the channels on the TV. LOST was on and it seemed to fit.


The next day we had some chammomile tea, apples and peanuts for our breakfast and set out to see what we could see.





I had been working a lot at a job that didnt seem right until a week before. I had lost touch with my kids, a little. They called me Daddy out of habit when they had a question or a need. This kind of bugged me. It was time to reconnect with them.


We had a great three day excursion. We headed to the White sillica sands of the Northland. I had read about them and had conjured up a very novel fantasy about staying there. I told the kids we were going to the "land of the white sands" I couldnt remember exactly where they were but New Zealand gets less complicated at the top and I knew we'd find them. There was no notation of them on my map of the area. We had a second breakfast at a neat little cafe and gallery I'd gone to with my pal Nancy when she was down for a visit. There were toys and the kids ate a nice portion of eggs, which would ground them a little for the travelling to come. I wrote a little and sipped a coffee. There was a daredevellish airplane spraying some white powder on the nearby forest, Desmond was intrigued. The ladies that ran the restaurant were very hospitible and we left felling well cared for. The next stop was the Koanga Organic Garden center. I had read about the place and even bought a catalogue of classes and products recently. The kids roamed around the seed garden and checked out the cool mud hut, made for children to explore. It was shaped like an igloo, but made of earth and had some bottles sculpted into it to let in just a little light. Lillians comment was "Too scary". Desmond also had some true repulsion as to the outhouse, although I thought was really charming. We bought some honey for a valentines package were making to send off to to the Northern hemisphere, a book about gardening, and a nice country dress there too, Lillian,having already stained both outfits I had brought for her. We got cute little "strawberry" apples and amazingly yummy manderin oranges for our journey. They also had toys and the kids were pretty well behaved. We drove on to an animal park which was (thank God) closed. The kids had seen the sign and I thought it would be a good leg stretcher, so we followed the country road, winding on encountering a few one lane bridges. Despite the sandwich board signs set up on the roads, the place was closed for the day. It looked to me that you walked around someones livestock on fenced paths and looked at them, occasionally stopping at openings to feed the beasts with the bag of feed provided. All for 24.00. Luckily I didnt have to be the source of that "no".



It was darned hot in the afternoon and we were relying on the air conditioning, but there was a bad squeal that would come and go when I turned it on. I figured it must just need a belt dressing, I stopped and had a mechanic take a look. The air conditioning motor was seizing and we had to travel without it from then on. This meant that we now had that safari feel (and look) of travelling with the windows fully down. I had noticed some tiime ago that there was uneven wear on one front tire. I kept thinking of it and decided to get it checked out. A very nice and busy fellow at a tire (or as they spell it here, TYRE) center told me I should replace the tire, but they were some special long wearing wallet gouging 180.00 a peice. he normally replace two at a time, but under the circumstances he could do some rotation and just replace one. Desmond was asleep in the car and we left him there for a few minutes to go to the toilet. The toilets in this particular town, called KawaKawa are very famous as it turns out. They were designed and partially built by a visionary archetect and artist named Frederick Hundertwasser. Here is a link to some photos of it. Quite a priveledged privy! www.pbase.com/philinnz/kawakawa_toilets

When we got back to the car, with man underneath, Desmond was awake, looking a little hot and disheveled. The man had decided to check our spare tire and had discovered a pristine one, and had moved the other rear tire up and put the spare on the back. No new tire or 180.00 bill. That was my second car service with no charge, how nice. We went to a railroad station cafe where the kids had a piece of carrot cake and ambled through the vintage trains, swung on some swings, and got back into the car for more safari driving north.

I find that gardening works: Two poems

I found that gardening works
It works me and I work it.
There is no inner argument as to the validity of the tasks
Such a natural thing
The ultimate in solar power
Hardened prisoners are softened.
Timid immigrants escape the isolation of their differences
To plan, to plant, to nurture,
It helps us more than just feeding us.

If everyone started to garden
What would the world look like?
Would we still have obesity and starvation?

If we have light and water, we can garden.
If one doesn’t have light and water
Humanitarian efforts need to help provide them.

If we didn’t ship our food around the planet
If it didn’t change through dozens of hands
What would the world look like?
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

My trusty flowers, my baby vegetables
So reliable, so obedient.
When my agenda spins me round my plants unwind me
What lessons they teach
What a silly student I am
Learning over and over again.

My trusty flowers, my baby vegetables
Therapy and sustenance
Cooperation and grace.

Krazy Keyboard

eee,

This was a real sentance:
wn`s oe computer has a mind of ity littlThis squirrell

Hang on while I update my hardware, here.


Poems

Tonight is a patience exersize...

Its been some time since my last entry. Ive done another swim, this time a harbor crossing on a stormy Auckland Sunday afternoon. Ive decided to go back to school through Evergreen State's Independent learning contract system. I have a focus of writing, swimming and fiber arts. I am planning to compare and contrast the experiance of learning through mentorship (from a close teacher) and from teaching others. To do this I will work with a mentor on things relating to writing, as well as some local coursework, possibly freelance journalism, and or more certainly children's writing. Im still making some decisions.I have a sponser in Olympia, a woman who specializes in writing. I am piecing the program together now for a January start. Its odd, since I have decided to study writing I havent written much. Ill get there, I hope. Over and over again getting all the way to the page.

Tonight we went to our second community dinner. It was a holiday dinner for low income peoples here in the Glen Innes area. Glen Innes has a large population of Polynesians. By Polynesians I mean Pacific Islanders from Cook Islands, Samoans, Tongans and Mauri folks. I sigh as I report that the eaters are mostly dark colored and the feeders are white. I feel a little counterfiet there, being pretty priveledged, blessed with slick American tastes and opertunism. Ouch did I say that? ...

There was a dinner of Roasted potatoes, (yum, peeled and everything) peas with a waxy "stay away ftom me" look to them, (the ubiquitous) roasted pumpkin chunks, nice despite my aversion to cooked orange vegetables. The meat of the meal, (My official sorry to Cate with a C Mckee for the meat report) was carved roasted chicken and ruby hams, also sliced at the front of the large room at the community center. There was pavlova with ice cream and fresh strawberries and whipped cream for dessert. The group of folks are warmer now that weve been there 2 times. A friend that Jordan met through a supplimental education program invited us. Santa finished off the meal and had gifts for the children, even knew their names.

Ive always been a bit of a scrooge and now with Christmas falling in the middle of summer, Im even more ambivilent. Desmond already found his drum set. I feel like letting the holidays slip by unnoticed. Maybe Ill buy a goat for a woman with lots of kids in Botswanna or something.

Ocean Swimming In New Zealand!

One nice thing about living in Auckland or any sizable city is that there are more people who share your interests. Take open water swimming, for example. for years I swam in Argyle lagoon on San Juan Island, while I didn't swim daily in the winter I definitely put in miles there in all of the seasons. I can count the friends and family that joined me on my digits without resorting to my toes. Ben White was a lagoon swimmer, he had read some article about cold water speeding up brain injury recovery and decided it must be good for the brain in general. I remember one very stormy Thanksgiving swim with Ben when the waves were so big and jolly we couldn't help but laugh out loud while rising and falling in the confused surf of the lagoon. It wasn't sure where it was going but it was moving and we were along for the ride. I remember Denise Steinbruck was brave and had a swim with me one time, Thank You Denise. One time I took my daughter Nina's whole slumber party out for what my family always called a chocolate dip (evening outdoor swim). We swam all the way across that lagoon at dusk. I was counting little bobbing heads constantly. I felt like a mother seal. We all made it, and headed home for something hot and chocolate. For the most part, though, I was on my own when I swam. Neighbors would politely note if they learned my swimming identity "Oh, that is YOU down there. I was wondering...." Inside they were probably saying: you crazy thing, I'm keepin an eye on you! I was the freak who swam in the sea unseasonally. Herein Auckland there is a whole community of us! There is a three kilometer swim that over a thousand swim anually.

I read a wonderful book called Swimming To Antarctica by Lynn Cox. She swam across the English Channel, from the north to south island in New Zealand, across the Bering Straights (during the dying throes of the cold war... if you asked me, she ended it with her amassadorial strokes) and other amazing stretches of water. I was inspired by it. I wrote to her and she gave me permission to read her book, or excerpts thereof, on the public television station. I never did, though.

I recently swam in my first open water race. It was short- 1.4 km, but I did it- and so did 269 other people! I loved it. I didn't sign up without hesitation though and I kept coaching myself that I didn't have to go, even though I had paid my 20 dollars. I eventually shared the plan with my husband and that made turning back less likely, or less easy. I had a strange behavior the day before the race. I started drinking a beer at about 2:00 in the afternoon (this is unusual). I was just going to have one before I went to test the water, which is down the street. Before I could leave, I got a phone call from the States and I talked for 45 minutes and drank another one or two. Well then, drinking beer became much more interesting than swimming and after even more beer and an enormous dinner and went to bed early. I sensed inner sabotage, I didn't want to swim, anyway. The racers were to assemble at 7:45 am the next day. Was I crazy? Not Sure. I woke up early, as any real baker does, hangover or no. I flip flopped back and forth as to whether I should, could, wanted to go. I remembered a friend's email recently who was telling me she ran a half marathon after a late night of red wining. She actually said she thought it helped her "push through" I wrote her a quick email and pulled the kids out of bed. Jordan fed them (I was working on the carbs Id drunk the night before) Lillian wore a swimsuit for solidarity. I pleasantly chimed that we were probably too late to assemble and would be turned away. Jordan said to think positively, I said I was thinking positively. We made it there. The start point was in Herne Bay, a very posh part of Auckland. The weather was spectacular, there were lots of serious looking swimmers and lots of wetsuits. I don't have a wetsuit and I don't think I need one, certainly not for a half hour swim. About 10% of the swimmers agreed with my thinking and went in swim togs (as they say here). I think being late was fine, less time to feel intimidated or frumpy in my vintage wool coat. I was an "unaffiliated swimmer" and therefore wore an orange swim cap and was in the third and final heat of swimmers. I heard conversations that told me there were organized trainings and practice swims. I headed down to the take off point and waded in and I found myself saying "what the heck am I doing?!" The foghorn interrupted my quandary and I was off with a whole swarm of swimmers. (You can see the beginning of the race in the video clip below this text, including my loping son and my cheerleading daughter.) The first 20 strokes were pretty irritating with limbs splashing and kicking. Half way out to the buoy marking the "path"I was fine. I decided if I finished I was a winner. Desmond on the other hand, in his five year old thinking, was worried I wouldn't win. Hah!

The swim itself was nice. The water was pale and green like jade. The water temperature was about 16 C or 65 F-pleasant. There were slow moving coast guard boats and sleek kayaks keeping an eye on us. If you had a problem you could just raise your hand and someone would paddle over to you and help you. Hopefully your problem isn't: A shark just ate my hand, then you'd really be in trouble. I noticed that the person telling swimmers "Turn Here to shore, you just passed the buoy" was pretty busy, even though the orange barrel shaped buoy was big, lots of us did not see it and almost went on our own longer swim. I was elated to learn that I was almost done and swam stronger at the end than I had the whole swim. I climbed out of the water looking for my loving family with flower lei and kisses, where were they? Oh well, I`ll revel in the moment myself. There is that great feeling that comes after doing something outside your comfort zone. I walked up to the street and headed over to the park where there would be hot and cold drinks, hot dogs, trophies and prizes. By the way, I later learned Id finished 170th, which to me translates to 'not last'. My family parked right in front of me while I was walking and they hadn't seen me. "Look, I made it!" I pulled on a shirt and we walked to the park. There was a great playground there and lots of happy swimmers. I noticed that swimmers, as a rule are a mellow bunch, not much bravado or elitism that I could see. Each of my family ate two hot dogs a piece, making the $20.00 registration fee even more of a bargain. I learned of the next swim, the Chelsea sugar swim 2.4 km. I registered today, but I don't have to go...

I just realized that I left out a pretty crucial step in the earlier galette post Ill update it.

I am going to have to stop buying watercress on the street. Here in New Zealand watercress is a ubiquitous food. It's not just a trendy food found in small amounts for lots of money like in the U. S. It is a standard component of something called boil-up that is a Polynesian meal (more on this later) but is also grows all over the place. Consequently, there are interesting older ladies selling it, from their yards, at the corner Saturady market and in the local butcher shop. I always fall in love with the sweet older ladies. They sell a huge bunch for a dollar or so. I think "Gee, I should really get some and have nice little cress sandwiches or a delicious bed for my fancy lamb strip or fish". The truth is that it ends up liquifying in the pruduce drawer. Ill still love the geriatric gardeners, I may still part with the dollar, I just dont want the guilt of the neglected watercress eying me when I open the fridge.

Dish and That.... Galette fillings

First Some photo's as promised to Grandma Pat! A recent one of Lillian and the one she loved of Desmond in Tahiti.

Now onto our Pastry Fillers!

Last post has the crust or pastry and this one is for the fillings. First of all , the galettes being such a versatile thing, you need to decide upon if you want sweet and or savory, (you can use the same crust for both) and what size you want it/ them to be. Baking paper or parchment is a good idea for lining the pan so that you can easily move them. I reuse my baking paper over and over, so it isn't so decadent, really. You can use the parchment paper to wrap up a galette that you are giving to someone or smartly taking to work for your mid session snack. Anyway ... back to baking! Just buy the paper, damn it! We'll use it eventually, especially if I get loose and decide to share the white chocolate whisper cake recipe with you. Its the legend of many a wedding. "did you taste the wedding cake? its actually GOOD!". Uh Oh! Now I'm really off.

Why do people have such low expectations for wedding cakes? It's the queen of ritualistic baked goods! It's a once in a lifetime event (naively and hopefully speaking)! Why must the cake so often be sawdusty and overly sweet. That is not a good affirmation, metaphor of, a loving couples road onward.

He yawned and said " Well at first it was fine, maybe we were a little overly sweet to each other, then we just dried out and now we don't even finish the piece." He should have planned the cake better! He should have tested the laws of cake appreciation to asses true compatibility!

Does it really need to be so straight and hard with sugary reinforced precision? Is it a dessert or a building? What about lofty and soft? What about the Zing of a barely sweetened raspberry?

When I have a consultation with folks who are looking for me to bake a wedding cake for them, I always try to determine what school of thought they are from. If they start out with some resplendent account of a cake that was really delicious and show a sign of appreciation of the qualities of taste and texture and balance that can make a cake truly lovely, then it will be a promising partnership if they bring photos from bridal magazines or mention Albertson's or Costco better break it off, now. I use terms like "simply elegant" and "adorned with fresh flowers" as my pledge and disclaimer as to the level of sugar acrobatics I will perform. Speaking of performance Let's galette now.

Galette fillings

Sweet

Breakfast danish style cream cheese and tart fruit filling.

Good for both breakfast and dessert

Blend softened cream cheese -4 parts, sugar -1 part, flour 1/4 part a dash of good vanilla, 1 egg for each 6 oz or 175 grams of cream cheese. Too much math? OK

1 8oz package of cream cheese, softened

1/4 cup sugar

2tbs flour

1tsp vanilla

1 egg

Blend all ingredients

I use this with fresh fruit or lightly cooked fruit filling. My favorites are raspberries stirred up with a little sugar and a scant amount of flour and shown to the flame just enough to coalesce into a bright red sauce with the sugar and flour absorbed but the berries not really cooked, it turns a duller color and the flavor isn't nearly as snappy if you cook it thouroughly. Strawberry and rhubarb prepared similarly works. I'm in the Southern hemisphere, I have springtime ideas, now. Orange and cranberries are a nice combination with the cream cheese, especially if you add some orange zest into the pastry crust. Apples are good, but you have to partially cook them first, or they'll have to much crunch. Apricot puree is tasty and beautiful swirled around the danish cheese mixture. Frozen blueberries can go in whole on top of the cheese filling as can canned cherries. One decadent filling I once made was a little orange juice concentrate (the organic one is orangier, both in color and taste) a little orange zest in the cream cheese part and chunks of bittersweet chocolate or leftover ganache (a simple truffle filling/ chocolate glaze that is illegal under secret culinary law to waste.)

Its bad when the secret culinary police come by to get ya. They storm in while your entertaining that new vegetarian love interest and bust you for the stupid chicken stock you used or the fact that you didn't fillet the tomatoes and barbarically added the tomato wall with the skin still on. Where are those guys when your husband uses only three cups of water to boil the pasta?... Or when your friend destroys the expensive steaks with twice the cooking time they need? Or when your well meaning and frugal boss insists that real chocolate and vanilla are too extravagant. That's when the culinary police need to be there! Do culinary police go for donuts? I want to know where! Those would be the perfect non offending donuts, no trans fats, no mixes, real filling. Do I need to get a life?? I have one, thank you. I just cant hold steady to galette filling.

Just Fruit

You can make the galettes a traditional pie filling approach, you just have to be careful with the moisture content. If you use a fruit with a lot of moisture like peaches, apricots, cherries and plums and even pears or apples you need to add extra flour, cornstarch or breadcrumbs to absorb the liquid so it doesn't sink into an uncontrolled slough. Rhubarb galettes work, while berry galettes arent a good idea because of all that moisture and lack of structure (lots of small bits). I like to make apple galettes with a little lemon juice and currants and torn stale bread, sort of strudel tasting. Its a good idea to roll the pastry thicker on the fruit only fillings, since it will need to be a bit stronger to hold the cooking fruit in.

Savory

Savory galettes are a great option if you don't have much on hand and have to make something delicious and attractive. Leftover meats like ham, salmon, crab, and sausage or smoked fish are excellent components, while added to a filler like cooked potato or artichoke heart chunks or torn stale bread and flavorful additions like sharp cheddar, gruyere cheese, green onions, capers, green peppercorns-crushed, roasted bell peppers or capsicums, shallots finely chopped. I really revel in a crab and Tillamook cheddar with green onions galette. Its rich, so serve it with a nice near naked salad. Asparagus or broccoli with ham and Swiss is really good, too. Chicken mushroom or chicken pot pie can be galette style as can ratatouille or eggplant parm'.

Really, the sky is the limit. Sometimes galettes made from leftover dinner outshine the first meal. You just need a filling that holds together pretty well to scoop or form with your hands. let it cool if you made out of hot ingredients so the pastry doesn't "melt" when you are tucking it up around the sides.

Putting it all together : Oven 375 degrees F

Ill give instructions for individual galettes which turn out to be a few inches across. If you make a larger one for more portions, just use a larger ball of dough use the same proceedure. If you have refridegerated the pastry for more than an hour, pull it out to warm up to a workable firmness for an hour or so, (time varies, depending on the size of dough balls and the ambient temperature in your kitchen.) Place a ball of dough on a lightly floured surface, suitable for rolling out. Roll the dough out into a circle (don't be too precise, they are supposed to be rustic looking). Roll out to a thickness of about 1/8th of an inch or 3 mm thick, a little thicker if your making a mostly fruit based filling. If you are making individual sized galettes they will roll out to about 7 inches or 10 cm across. Place it to the side dust lightly with flour and roll out the rest. As a I mentioned earlier, it is advisable to use baking paper to line your pan. Place the galette dough circles on the pan/paper next to each other. Place the filling in the center of the circle. If it is the cream cheese and fruit type spoon the cream cheese first, about 1+1/2 tbs on each one then follow around with the fruit spooning sauce or filling (1-2 tbs) or just dropping berries or cherries onto the filling. Now take an edge and tenderly fold it up onto the filling and take the next section of edge and fold that up and continue until all the sides have been curled up around the filling, making a little tart that looks like a drawstring satchel that is laying flat, slightly open. If you are using a savory filling or fruit only use the same process but you use more filling, heap up a half a cup or so on the circles before folding up the sides. Scoot them over and make room for more on the sheet pan, the Danish don't spread out much and the fruit ones do just a little.

Brush the sides with beaten egg and sprinkle lightly with sugar (for dessert galettes) and bake in a 375 degree F or 160 degree C oven for about 20 minutes or until golden brown. Now please enjoy your galettes.

By the way, Id like to thank Friday Harbor`s own Dick Brass for inventing the spell check.

Recipe for Galettes

As I promised I am publishing a recipe.
This one is for a simple pastry called a galette. Galette is a general term used in French to designate different types of round and flat crusty cakes. (thank you, Wikepedia)There is a savory variation of a buckwheat crepe often filled with Gruyere and ham or other savory morsels left over from last night's exquisite French feast. Those particular galettes taste the best when you eat them in your soft clingy movie star nightgown at about 11:30 am after you finally wake up.
But if you dont have Feasts of French or slink around in nighties, it really doesnt matter because these are about the most versitile of things that ever wanted to be made. If you are enjoying a bumper crop of Apricots, use them, if you have a little ganache left from a cake, save it for an accent in your next galette, the sky's the limit in what you can put in them.

They have a crust
Ill give you the recipe I have for a short crust or pastry that Chef /Wizard Jodi Calhoun got from her mother. It is rich and delicate and really easy to remember. It is a "4-2-1 and a pinch" formula.

Here is a basic recipe for galette dough using the formula

2 cups flour
Pastry or just white flour is fine, better not use whole wheat flour.
1 pinch of salt. I would estimate that a pinch is about a 1/2 teaspoon
1 cup cold butter
The better the butter, the better the batter, unsalted or salted are both ok, just adjust the salt that you add accordingly.
About 1/2 cup cold water (I use homemade)
Optional pinches are generous pinch of sugar (helps to brown the galettes) orange or lemon zest for flavor.

Proceedure
put flour in a dry bowl a little bigger than you think youll need, add salt, and optional sugar and or zest, stir well. You can use a food processor for this, just use the bowl of the machine as your bowl. Chop the butter, handling it as little as possible, into small lego-ish cubes and add to the flour mixture. "Cut" the butter in with a couple of knives, a pastry blender or pulse in the processor until thare are no noticable hunks of butter and the whole thing has the coarser texture of cornmeal. Trickle the water into the mixture while tossing with a fork, a little at a time or pour in a slow stream into the spinning processor. Did you learn this years ago? sorry, Im just being thorough for the newcomer pastry enthusiast. By some mystery of nature, it sometimes doesnt need all the water, while other times the flour is thirstier and it does take it all. When a pinch of the mixture holds together in what looks like pie dough, its got enough water. Nobody ever said cooking was an exact science, did they? Well... actually it is, but that's a big topic. One you could discuss with Scientist/ Husband Jordan. Later. Over Galettes!

Now portion the dough, (again, minimal handling for a tender crust) If you want cute little galettes for individual portions then shape the dough loosely into walnut ot apricot size, if you want a larger galette that you can slice into wedges then roll orange sized balls. Chill (or freeze) for a little while (like an hour) or a long while (up to a week as long as its well wrapped) I like having a few balls of it on hand for when someone pops in for coffee or I want an easy dessert.

Egads, its late! more tomorrow.
Fillings in fact.
Goodnight.

On second thought, let's throw them out!

Attention! Political content here. Tomorrow I promise Ill put a great new recipe here if youl hear me out. Thank you. I have given some thought and considered feedback from my last blog entry. I was hinting around at a tax revolt to stand up to the governments aggressive military actions. I now realize that if the heads of state were "deprived" of revenue for the war endevors they are so bent on they will raid some other coffers to continue. It seems that the voiceless are the ones to suffer when money is shifted by the Bush administration. I wont condone something that will take food out of an already hungry or sick or old hand.
It is, however legal to impeach a president (and vice president), and there are plenty of legal grounds to support it, now. Its an idea that is growing. It has got the iceberg shape.

Why not be on the cutting edge and be one of the ones people thank god for later.

Saturday Oct 27th is loaded with the idea, join in or devise your own action. The system needs to change and its metamorphesis will be full of twists and turns, you dont need to know the details now, you just need to support the swell of people risking change.
I say: It's never to late to overthrow an outmoded, greedy, corrupt leader (but get the assistant, too, he's at least as dangerous!)

Tax revolt is sweet, but impeachment is devine.

What are we to do???

I am going to get a little radical here.
I know that a handful of people I know, some I love, will not agree with me over the content of this entry. I cannot sit silent though, so here it goes. I live in the South Pacific, have small children and work full time. Its easy to not hear the news and to forget that there are terrifying wars raging, some of them waged and justified by my own country, the United States. Even with my blissful isolation from such happenings, the word slips into my ears. I hear Dick Cheney proposing an attack of Iran, I hear quotes of speeches by George Bush claiming and projecting the threat of Iran's Nuclear capacity. I agree, in fact, all countries who have them are posing a threat to life, me, my kids, my lovely natural landscape, my irritating parasites, the whole ball of wax. Even if they only have them to "threaten towards peace", even if the countries claim to "hope to never need them", those weapons are damn dangerous.

Now, I am of the school of thought that we humans are evolving to survive. I think that is how war came to be, a mechanism of survival. Now, as the mechanism to survive has become the threat to survival, we (the thinking adaptable humans) can toss the outdated behaviors of survival away and pick up ones that will actually work.
Now if you are sure that (1) Jesus is coming and (2) I must just be a humanist who hasn't yet been saved, then, WAIT!, I think Jesus would like my idea, too. It involves taking care of ourselves, each other, and our home. The biggest parasite is the insatiable greed that sells and feeds from fear. "Don't risk trusting" is what those greedy buggers say! Buy a security system, an insurance policy, buy a new shiny set of mini nukes.

Meanwhile, the rest of us are paying for these measures to protect the wealth of a few. The few clinging to the energy structures (literal and theoretical) of our recent past and present. If we could spend the dollars we inefficiently blunder on ill-conceived warfare, on energy systems to progress further than the supply of fossil fuels, if we could inspire our scientific minds with wholesome and worthy problem solving without the incentive of military application or ROTC obligations, then we might be able to survive this chapter here on earth.

Now, as Turkey is stepping up aggressively into the war zone, and Condoleezza Rice digs in to hold off the dogs on her leash, as Russia plays its pro-Iran cards--lets think. Let us "ordinary folks" think about this. We may be asked to condone and pay for an air strike, the military attack, of another country, Iran. Its a big country in a region where there is great polarization, mostly based on religious orientation. Is your God really into that? Remove the spin, the language you get fed about "the Region" and know that these are people we're talking about, with homes, meager and grand, with children and traditions and stories told.

If you are like me, and I bet you are (since I don't know too many people who read this blog who are right wingnuts.), then you feel exasperated by the news and the threats looming. Many of us (record numbers, actually) went into the streets before the invasion of Iraq. Although it was comforting to see that our wishes and opinions were not isolated, it didn't seem to matter very much that we showed up to demonstrate. It seems we were speaking a different language than those making the grave decisions we cared about. So lets not make that mistake again! Lets speak the language to be heard. If its money and power that these bad-boys like, lets see where our money and power as citizens is held. Our consumer dollars are key, we could do a spending modification or "brown out" or how about our tax dollars? If, according to some surveys (who?- good question) over 70% of people are dissatisfied by George Bush and his clan, then there must be a certain one or two percent, at least, willing to express themselves in a tax revolt. If even just 1% refused to pay taxes, citing mismanagement of tax monies, then that would be 2-3 million people to bust and prosecute. I'm thinking that would be quite an impossible task for any government. I'm thinking that would be mighty threatening to a government.

Maybe we could cut our energy consumption in half! It would require all kinds of efforts from the hitchhiking variety to the municipal-code variety, from the exotic way we reward ourselves to fast-track shifting gears. Could you live without that cup of coffee, have farmers market tea instead? What would the payoffs for doing this sort of action be?
If we took back our power as consumers and didn't buy cheap stuff from insistent advertisers, filling the bins with shiny waste, would we feel any better? My guess is that we are so overdue for doing the right thing that when we start doing it it will feel great and I mean collectively feel great!

Let's get a grip.

You first!

Just kidding.

I'll go first if your too scared.

You're there aren't you?

View from Home

I am on a visit from New Zealand to the West coast of the United States. Tonight , in fact I am insomnia tic at the Pension Nichols in Seattle. My lovely and complex son, Desmond has accompanied me on this journey, although he is with his Grandmother Linda in a seaside cottage back on San Juan Island. Grandma Linda is a gem of a woman who has lots of soft spots in her heart and one especially for Desmond. Desmond was her first Grandchild and their birthdays are exactly 6 months apart, making them something of fitting puzzle pieces, I suspect. It was a tender moment (there are many lately) when I said goodbye to him today and got on the ferry with Nina to explore the city of Seattle. We have spent plenty of time here but this is the first time we are looking at it with the eyes to choose a home and a school for Nina (and her Beau, Larry.)

The tables are curiously turned as Nina has more money in her savings account then I do and has a great curiosity for the foods in the city today. For years I have dragged Nina into the restaurant of my choice and even if she had a lackluster appetite or lack of interest in whatever foreign cuisine or trendy scene she would pick something and give it a go. Tonight, when I could have settled for a cup of tea she was hungry. We had Nepalese appetizers and curries (her's- Goan coconut shrimp and mine Spicy Tibetan vegetable. It wasn't really very long before Nina confessed she was still hungry and we then had a lovely set of salads at the cozy Cafe' Campagne, mine- tiny tender little solid green beans with some lemony herby treatment and her's- beets and hazelnuts and real rouqufourt and silky butter lettuce(by the way, excuse my spelling) Then is when we should have stopped. We DIDNT though, we had dessert! OK, just to be thorough, Ill tell ya, it was Hazelnut creme brulee and Tart Tatin, two Katrina desserts. Tea tomorrow.


I wrote my Husband an email tonight and I noticed that he did not immediately write back. Why isn't that guy waiting for my words and eagerly responding? Its been almost 5 hours now!

Speaking of husband things, let me tell you. If your husband where to pick up your family and move them away to a country where either they don't get your jokes or they have been trained not to laugh at them and he was immerse himself in study and all the bizarre dysfunction of a failing commune while the children began displaying some pretty odd coping mechanisms you might just get a little nutso! NOT that thats whats happening here, I NEVER said that!

Im going to see if I can put some photo's of those kids on this blog and turn in since its 2:00 !

long list

I am in this common dilemma of feeling the urge to write a blog entry but not knowing where to begin! Sometimes I feel that thwere isn’t enough time to enjoy this amazing world and all its twists,turns and surprises and to also write of it. Does anyone else have that problem? I have these great reflective narratives after something interesting happens but Im not perched with pen or keyboard, Im usually holding some darling’s hand, swimming a lap, doing a dish or finally turning in for the night. Then I have a build up of interesting things vying for a moment of consideration, some time to be crafted into something that translates. Im going to remedy the situation by making a list so that I can either refer back to it when I want to write about something or just let that list rest and let a new one collect. Here we go.

Some things I found interesting lately:
1)My swim today. I was going to use the swim to ``make a good decision about the future`` I kept coaching myself and playing out the various options and choices I have in front of me. Nothing was coming, though. I thought maybe I was too fixated with counting my laps (often, I divide my swim into sets of laps) Then I switched into “ I don’t care how many laps Ive swum’ mode. Then the insights came a flowing! Sometimes quantify the accomplishments gets in the way of making them.

2) meeting my Aquastell family
I was born on Feb 5 1962 this was, astrologically a unique time. The sun, moon, and six planets were all in the sign of Aquarius. This is a great chance to check and see if astrology has any credence. There is a website developed by the children of this freak configuration and I found it recently. As a person interested in Astrology for some time I was quite relieved to find it. As it turns out this group folks who were born during this stellium are quite interesting. The lives of the group have not been easy or glamorous, but the thrust of the ideals are sure interesting. I felt like Id found family. I eventually realised that there were many members, but few revisiting folks. I still go to the Aquastell website from time to time to see if my stellar siblings have discovered something that Ive overlooked with my parenting/ immigrant/ human existence has distracted me from.
3) Parenting from afar.
I love My Nina and I get bits and pieces from her. Once your child is of legal age , then you must get with the idea that you are cooperating, not controlling.
4) The struggles of immigration
More on this later

5) the things that own you and the things that you own
Just let them go, there are plenty of lovely things everywhere!

Dear Laura Bush

here is something I wrote a while back:


Dear Laura Bush,
Dear Laura,
I am also a mother. I have three children. I am not a religious person, however I consider myself generous and compassionate. I am concerned about by childrens future. I dont believe in Armageddon as a pre-determined reality and I hope that humans still have a say as to the direction we take as a race. I would happily reduce my "standard of living" for the good of the whole, by this I mean the whole of humanity, despite race or nationality and the whole planet with all its wonderful diverse life. I can assume that you yeild more influence over future events than I and I appeal to you to think of a world where fear is not the governing emotion and people have their needs met. I specifically do not want to explain to my young children why anyone would choose to use such antics as nuclear warfare. If you can influence the strategy of the upcoming months, as a mother and a generous and compassionate woman, yourself, please help us use our words, and take our turns listening and find the least destructive way to deal with those who disagree with our stand. Thank you very much, Kate Stone

Floodgates Open

Yesterday I had a very healthy airing of things that have been on my mind and weighing heavily on me. One day ill be able to disclose the nature of this. I feel better and other ideas and concerns have room to be addressed. One such thing is looking into investing in a home, while we're here. Hopefully Ill be back to my twice a week blogging, in no time

Here is a photo of Addie and Ollie from this summer at Anahata.

This is the contemplation space I made in a "Fine threads" workshop I took this summer

Peace on Earth

I am sorry I gloated about summer last February. Im getting paid back. While northern hemisherians are finding comfortable shade, neighborhood ponds to dip in, sipping whatever refreshing cool tonic, sleeping outside and gardening I am wondering if the electricity will go out and if the windows can handle the wind. Jordan, who just traded me the favor of going to the store for some mint slice cookies or (or maybe even and) butternut crunch biscuits for hanging up the laundry is begging a different assignment. He is asking if he can concoct our sweet treat instead of drive, possibly on two wheels to the pac n save. I negotiated no bake horse treat cookies for my baby birds and myself, and my foghorn leghorn man, too. Brrrr.

Well,

This week I have just one day off and it's today. I need to get all my non work pursuits addressed. Yesterday I worked as a temp for a cafe called Sebastion's boutique cafe and catering. It was fine but I wish that people who hired temps would think it through a little to get the maximum benefit from their expenditure. Its daunting to go into a completely foriegn kitchen and be in charge of it all, without knowing the ethos or angle of the place. I did fine, though. I made lots of eggs Benedict and sandwiches for the front case. The darn range was a problematic to light and the other staff wasn't really directed in a team thinking manner. They used blackware there, nice pans without a "nonstick" finish. It reminded me of the struggle involved with owning a restaurant. The days that, despite your efforts and complete devotion you dont break even. I think Im going to get a digital camera today. There will certainly be evidence on this blog when I do, you'll see.

Jordan seems to be in a work related funk. If I knew have to spell "onwe" thats the word I would use. I think he'll be fine. He needs more time to focus on it, Im thinking. We were having Lillian go to daycare for a couple of weeks but her dissatisfaction and our cost didnt add up. I wish we could find the eqivilent Kimmies daycare here. I really appreciate her, especially from here, without her.

Ours neighbors, who are very nice, have a young pit bull terrier. his name is Qaddafi. He is a lovely pancake gold color. I try and give him kind words and the occasional scrap so that he considers me (and hopefully my kids) his friend. He has doubled in size in the 2 months weve been here. We had wild company last night. Dmitri and Carlos from Brazil came over and brought lots of red wine. I havent been drinking lately. Im on a mission to get to my pre Nina weight. This is boring, Im stopping.