My Life As a Child

I've always been the kind of aunt that gives noisy toys to the nieces and nephs.
Years ago I taught English as a second language to kids (and others), in Japan. Although tiring, it was a blast.

I enjoyed my time spent with kids but feel fairly disconnected from them at this point in time.

Without being able to be certain of my level of health at any given time, I have avoided becoming involved with anything that requires a firm commitment of time and place. I would love to be able to drop in and read stories at the library once in a while, but would feel horrible if I promised to be there and couldn't make it.

I've started watching a new show on TLC called

“My Life As a Child”.

TLC gave video cameras to 20 different children. Over a four-month period, the kids filmed their lives. Of course its not the same as hanging with kids myself, but I am really enjoying the program.

Maybe I'll try my hand at writing for kids, too.

Creating my own reality today

With a few hiccups here and there, I mostly like to know what's really going on. Not today. Its the last full weekend in February. I want it to be spring. I live in Michigan. The view from my windows is FAR from Spring today.
So here, now, I'm pretending with all my heart the sun is warm, the yard is green, the birds they sing, all those bulbs I planted a few years back are bursting with color, the roses and whatall are blooming their heads off.
Feel free to join in.

Forty Clove Chicken Thighs with Lemon Rice

Pack skinless chicken thighs closely together into a pyrex dish. Add as much garlic as you want, and sprinkle with marjoram. Cover with lid or aluminum foil.
Bake at 325 deg. until well-roasted (garlic looks like its starting to caramelize) about 2 hours.

Meanwhile, put 2 cups rice, 4 cups chicken stock, 1/3 cup lemon juice, minced garlic and a sprinkle of marjoram into a crockpot. Cook on high until liquid is gone. (about 2 hours) Add liquid from roasted chicken to rice, and serve.

A little blue, a little mohair, and some seminal socks

I feel sorta grumpy lately. Between the flu and the weather, I haven't driven anywhere for a very long time, and in fact have only left the house 3 times in the past 6 weeks.
The van's battery is dead, but that can be resurrected on Monday.
I wrote quite a bit yesterday, but when I woke up this morning, it seemed like dreck, totally illogical, and more of a horror story than a love story, so I put it aside for today and started to knit. Oscar is being very supportive of my writing, and I will keep trying, but I think I need a day away.
I finished Lynnie's shawl yesterday, and started making a very fluffy triangular shawl out of some mohair.
Very fluffy. I look like a purple-blue-black werewolf in mid-change when I wear it. It's in my dresser drawer right now, but it may end up being sent to Pine Ridge for an elder. It is very light weight, but warm, and may feel good to old bones.

So, to cheer myself up I've begun a pair of socks from some lovley blue/purple/red koigu yarn Lynn gave me. making socks for myself makes me feel pampered :-}

Hiking in Japan

I lived in Japan from the age of 23 to about 26. Some of my favorite memories are of hiking there. I used to pack a light lunch (usually a seaweed-wrapped salmon rice ball) and a bottle of water and head out my back door up into the mountains.

I loved hiking the paths up through the curved planted field into the woods filled with all sorts of plants and trees fairly unfamiliar to me. I never planned my hikes, yet almost always found something of interest.

One day in particular, I came across an extremely steep path. I was huffing and puffing a bit by the time I reached the end of the second switchback and was feeling really proud of myself for being able to climb at such a steep angle. I was just rounding the third switchback, each leg growing heavier with every step, when tootling around the corner from behind me, cool, composed and moving easily came an Obaa-chan. Dressed in traditional tabi and clothing, and not a day younger than 70, she passed me, bowing with a polite “Konichi-wa” and sped on up the path.

After she was out of sight, I had to stop. Laughing at myself and hiking with vigor didn't work well together.

About half an hour after I resumed hiking, I came across a shrine. My understanding of Kanji wasn't sufficient for me to know what it was for, but there was a simple spiral bound notebook, and a pencil, so that we could record that we'd visited. It was meant as adding our respect, so I signed it. Likely that's where Obaa-chan had been headed, as there were fresh flowers laid nearby.

An hour's hiking beyond that, the trail growing even steeper, I passed through tall stands of silvery-gold pampas grass to come upon a small field, full of metal swords. Each sword had a name written on it, and was planted point upward on a metal or stone plinth. A samurai graveyard. Amazing.

I treasure the memories of those days.

Image of me on one of my Japanese hikes. The shirt says "Ichiban"

I lived in Japan from the age of 23 to about 26. Some of my favorite memories are of hiking there. I used to pack a light lunch (usually a seaweed-wrapped salmon rice ball) and a bottle of water and head out my back door up into the mountains.

I loved hiking the paths up through the curved planted field into the woods filled with all sorts of plants and trees fairly unfamiliar to me. I never planned my hikes, yet almost always found something of interest.

One day in particular, I came across an extremely steep path. I was huffing and puffing a bit by the time I reached the end of the second switchback and was feeling really proud of myself for being able to climb at such a steep angle. I was just rounding the third switchback, each leg growing heavier with every step, when tootling around the corner from behind me, cool, composed and moving easily came an Obaa-chan. Dressed in traditional tabi and clothing, and not a day younger than 70, she passed me, bowing with a polite “Konichi-wa” and sped on up the path.

After she was out of sight, I had to stop. Laughing at myself and hiking with vigor didn't work well together.

About half an hour after I resumed hiking, I came across a shrine. My understanding of Kanji wasn't sufficient for me to know what it was for, but there was a simple spiral bound notebook, and a pencil, so that we could record that we'd visited. It was meant as adding our respect, so I signed it. Likely that's where Obaa-chan had been headed, as there were fresh flowers laid nearby.

An hour's hiking beyond that, the trail growing even steeper, I passed through tall stands of silvery-gold pampas grass to come upon a small field, full of metal swords. Each sword had a name written on it, and was planted point upward on a metal or stone plinth. A samurai graveyard. Amazing.

I treasure the memories of those days.

Image of me on one of my Japanese hikes. The shirt says "Ichiban"

Sunny!

SUNNY!

SUN SUN SUN!!!!!!

And a month from now, maybe no more snow this winter.

This has been a public service celebration

Maybes

This time of year I'm usually poring over seed catalogues, deciding what to add to my garden.
I used to love the Richter's herb catalog, and Seeds of Change.
Since I gave up on gardening as I used to, I didn't even think of buying new seeds, and have been tossing the catalogues as soon as they arrive in the mail.
I would have expected to find this depressing, but it doesn't seem to be. I think the garden I have is too much for me already. I put 7 beds in when we moved here, then the arthritis got worse.
I AM looking forward to the spring, when we first see crocus noses poking up. And when spring hits, I will likely get the itch in my fingers only soothed by immersion in dirt, but it seems freeing to let the garden go its own way. Making a virtue of necessity, I guess.
Last year, I lay down right on the ground and weeded the front flower bed. That was kind of fun but it wiped me out for a few days. I may do more of that this year. I'm feeling stronger, maybe I can do a little more 'prone' gardening. I won't try to get to all the beds.
Maybe just the roses and peaonies, a little bit a day for a week. Then put down a weed blocking mulch (or ask Oscar to do the mulching for me)
Maybe can be a dangerous word.

Medicine Soup

My flu/cold reared up again, the fever and sneezy/wheezy came back (but no cough!! Blessed be!)
But I whipped up a batch of my medicine soup to eat today. It always helps.

I don't have measurements, because when I am sick, I am muzzy-headed and would mess them up anyway. Mostly, add as much as you can stand of the garlic/ginger/chili and the rest is to taste :-}

pour a carton of good chicken stock into the pot (We use Kitchen Basics)
Add some freshly grated ginger, pre-minced garlic, garlic chili paste, and lemon juice to it.

Make Rivles
about a cup of flour
1-2 eggs
2-3TBS oil or melted butter
about 1/2 tsp salt
a bunch of dried parsley (parsley is great for stopping post nasal drip)
some freshly ground black pepper

mix it all up and drop in small pieces into the boiling liquid. When they float to the top, its ready.
You can't leave out the oil. the oil is essential for drawing some of the virtue from the aromatics so it can help your body.

You can also adjust this to include any other herb or spice efficacious for your cold:
For example, in Ayervedic medicine, Cardamom and cinnamon are also good for colds.

We're not talking fine dining here, we're talking medicine food.

(image, one of my Calendula from the garden a few years ago)

mujaddarah for the freezer

Mujaddarah for the Freezer

1 pound lentils, rinsed

2 cups brown rice

2 cups chicken or vegetable broth

6 cups water

4 medium to large onions

1/4 c cooking olive or other oil

extra special olive oil

1/2 tsp cumin seeds

3 all spice berries

1/2 inch whole cassia bark (aka 'cinnamon stick')

NOTE: If dish will be eaten now, you may increase spices to taste. Freezing this dish strengthens the spices so the amount is less for this use.

Slice onions into appx 1 inch pieces (can be rough chopped)

Put onions into a bowl and pour 1/4 cup cooking grade olive or other oil on top. Mix together until onions are coated.

Spread on LARGE parchment paper lined baking sheet and put into 275 degree oven for 30-45 minutes until onions are caramelized

While onions are cooking, put lentils, rice, water and broth into dutch oven or other oven-safe pot.

Grind spices and add to pot.

Bring to a boil and simmer with lid on while onions finish cooking.

When onions are done, add them to the pot, and put covered pot into oven. Turn heat up to 300 degrees.

Let cook for about 45 minutes, or until rice and lentils are soft.

Add salt, pepper and good quality olive oil to taste. Freeze or serve.

(public domain image of spices)

Coping, Obstacles and Spoons

This interminable flu virus has drawn the walls of my physical limits entirely too close for comfort. At least I have a few coping tools in place, from the physical limitations I already deal with. The biggest tool in the 'coping box' is probably REST.

Resting, to me, means only doing something if I really truly can do it wthout physical cost that day.

Of course there are days I do more than I should. If for example, I need care for the animals because Oscar is ill or something, of course I care for the critters, but I only do what is easiest, not necessarily everything that Oscar would do. As long as the critters are fed and watered, the essentials for that day are done.

It is insidiously easy for me to slide into ultra-focus mode when tackling a household task. It used to be, I would start by say, putting away the clean dishes while my coffee brewed, and half an hour later I'd find the counter cleaned, and be crippled for the rest of the day, and possibly the next.
Sure a clean counter is nice, but not at the expense of a more productive day than I could have had.

A friend of mine mentioned setting a timer for tasks, and that helped me a LOT when I was first learning this weird new self-discipline of not doing too much. These days I rely more on setting one small task and making myself sit down before attempting the next task. When I am in an accessible home, I will be doing many more tasks, from my chair.

As is the case with most of us, I was raised to push beyond my limits to accomplish what needed to be done, and I got damned good at that.
I was called lazy if I did not accomplish a task to the high standards of my family, and that and other negative feedback had (and sometimes still has) a tendency to play as background music when the house isn't up to my own standards.
It took a long time for me to be able to accept that my health was incredibly more important than having a clean kitchen every day.

Right now I'd say my largest challenge is that the house is so cluttered I cannot use my chair at all in here. Sort of a catch 22. Yes, I can clean the house enough to use my chair, but then I won't be able to walk for three days, and my fever will rise and I risk bone infection, and I can't use the chair to get all the way back to the bedroom or bathroom anyway.
The tools haven't all been marshalled for coping with this obstacle, but we've made a start. Reducing my ebay has been a large part of that. There are no new bags of books coming in to cause clutter, and I am slowly working my way through the books we have, putting them up singly. This leaves me much more time (and more 'spoons') to spend working on household stuff without overdoing it. (Note: The spoon theory is also an incredibly useful coping tool. http://www.butyoudontlooksick.com/the_spoon_theory/

(this website is also really cool)

Another really good coping tool is one my Mom taught me. As I go from one place to another, I never go with empty hands. There is almost always SOMETHING that belongs somewhere else, and usually in the direction I'm heading. This makes a positive difference in the room, and even if not everything is organized, I feel better because even the smallest accomplishment helps to silence that horrid background music.

(image is of my portion of a landscape quilt made before quilting cost too many spoons)

lissy's sock

A wee baby sock I designed yesterday... Hope Lissy likes it!

Remember Summer Oatmeal

For breakfast the other day, we made Remember Summer Oatmeal. (brand new dish, combination of Oscar's idea and Diana's recipe)

Our favorite oatmeal, no competition, is Silver Palate brand Thick and Rough Oatmeal

We made that to package directions.

To top it, per Oscar's suggestion, I made a summer fruit compote. That's all. Very healthy, very satisfying, and simple.

SUMMER FRUIT COMPOTE

2 cups frozen fruit, thawed. (I used a combo of Blackberries, raspberries and blueberries)
compatible fruit juice - a cup or less
thickening agent (I used 1 tsp cornstarch)
pinch of cloves
1/8 th tsp cinnamon
Brown sugar to taste (I used 3 Tbsp)
splash of vanilla

Pour off juice into measuring cup, fill with compatible fruit juice to make 1 cup.
Make a slurry with your favorite thickening agent and some fruit juice. You want the final consistency to be a little loose, not thick like pudding. (I used 1 tsp cornstarch)

Cook the cup of juice, some brown sugar, a tiny pinch of cloves, 1/8th tsp of cinnamon and the slurry until the thickener has begun to work and the liquid is translucent. Add the fruit, remove from the heat, add a small splash of vanilla, and mix well but gently.

Spoon over whatever you want, and remember summer. Great with French toast.

Lovely Imbolc day

Ok, the temps are cold and getting colder, we expect snow every day for the foreseeable future, I still have the virus sapping my energy but I had a wonderfully pleasant morning.
-Oscar picked up my new microphone/headset on his way to work, so I will be able to begin recording for librivox.org tomorrow. Its one of the recording devices recommended by librivox, so it SHOULD work.
-Oscar has been with Comcast long enough that they had him pick a present from a catalog in thanks.. the new crockpot was delivered this morning.
-I had a lovely protein-rich meal of tilapia with a touch of butter, seasoned with dill, lemon and pepper.. yummm
-We had a mini concert of Brian Hefferan's ukulele music as Oscar prepared for work.. Lovely cheerful stuff.

The sun is shining, a few minutes at a time, but even such a small glimmer is a lovely way to celebrate Imbolc.
Imbolc is a Celtic term for a celebration midway between Winter Soltice and the Vernal Equinox; commonly one of the 8 Pagan quarters of the year. As with most Pagan concepts, you may get a slightly different association of meanings depending on which Pagan you talk to. For me, its associated with the first hint of spring, the stirrings of creativity, and the blessing of seeds. I often think on this day of what I want to 'grow' in my life this year, and what 'seeds' need to be chosen for this to come to fruition.
Another name some Pagans use for today is Candlemas. That term comes from Catholicism, established as the day upon which Mary was purified following the birth of Jesus (40 days after Christmas), and the day on which Roman Catholic Priests blessed candles for use in parish homes throughout the year.
I prefer Imbolc, as it seems to flow better with my feelings this time of year:
Below text quoted from wikipedia's reference on Imbolc:

Imbolc is one of the four principal festivals of the Irish Calendar, celebrated either at the beginning of February or at the first local signs of Spring. Originally dedicated to the goddess Brigid, in the Christian period it was adopted as St. Brigid's Day. In Scotland the festival is also known as Latha Fhèill Brìghde, in Ireland as Lá Fhéile Bríde, and in Wales as Gwyl Ffraed.

Imbolc is traditionally a time of weather prognostication, and the old tradition of watching to see if serpents or badgers came from their winter dens is perhaps a precursor to Groundhog Day.

Thig an nathair as an toll
La donn Bride,
Ged robh tri traighean dh’ an t-sneachd
Air leachd an lair.

"The serpent will come from the hole
On the brown Day of Bride,
Though there should be three feet of snow
On the flat surface of the ground."

Fire and purification are an important aspect of this festival. Brigid (also known as Brighid, Bríde, Brigit, Brìd) is the Goddess of poetry, healing and smithcraft. As both goddess and saint she is also associated with holy wells, sacred flames, and healing. The lighting of candles and fires represents the return of warmth and the increasing power of the Sun over the coming months.

(image from freefoto.com)