Persimmons

A much misunderstood fruit, especially by me, the persimmon is actually gorgeous and tasty. We have a mature tree growing in our backyard, and now is the time of year where the hard green fruits begin to ripen.

They do so over the course of a few weeks, slowly turning from green to a pale yellowish to a warm lemony yellow and then they begin to blush. That's where they are right now (and I'm afraid my photo does NO justice to them).
The blush will increase over the next few weeks until the tree is filled with bright red, sweet and juicy persimmons. The raccoons love them. So do the squirrels and the Baltimore Orioles. And the little 3 year old daughter of our gardener friends.

Me. I keep thinking they will taste bitter. Or weird. And God forbid I should eat anything "weird." (You can insert an eyeroll here)

Today is also the day that my husband is going for a chest x-ray. He smokes 3 packs a day, and these check-ups frighten me.

Update: another clear picture. Whew.

The Garden Grows

So we're breaking ground and hauling in more ground. Manure too. We've been moving rocks around and peeling up grass and replanting it. I'm amazed at what one can do to a yard when you have someone around who knows what they're doing.

As opposed to me just digging and yelling and bossing people around.

We are putting in lots of lettuce, because it actually grows really well here. And kale, chard, collards and turnips. We're also putting in fennel, garlic, mint and lemongrass. We had to move the world's best rosemary plant - but I'm assured it will survive. Around December we'll put in the roots - carrots and beets and I'm pushing for some of those little potatoes. We'll also have broccoli and cauliflower.

And deer. I imagine we'll have lots and lots of deer. I wouldn't mind rabbits either.

Time flies.

Pretty amazing.... to be able to spend a weekend with your grown kids... celebrating the 21st birthday of your youngest... and to be overwhelmed with gratitude and love.

What a world.

(left to right: Molly (23), Anna (21 for one more month), Susan(just 21)

Life is Liminal Space.

liminal |ˈlimənl|
adjective
1 of or relating to a transitional or initial stage of a process.
2 occupying a position at, or on both sides of, a boundary or threshold.

Maybe it seems odd to think of one's daily life as a constantly occupying a threshold space, or that it is always transitional. But for me, today, that works.

We are losing a young friend today. Her family has made the decision to discontinue life support (unless there is a miraculous change in status) and as a loving family group all surrounding Lawson in this moment, they will say goodbye. Liminal space.

Those of us outside that inner circle, who have loved this family and this girl at some point in our connected pasts also stand in awe of the tragic loss, and the hope for something else, and the visceral clutch of mortality in our own guts. Liminal space.

Saturday my youngest child turns 21. Our baby. A full grown adult. Parenting job done. Parenting job never done. Liminal space.
This is our daughter Susan. Welcome her into the world of adults. Happy Birthday Susan, I couldn't be more proud of you.

Nothing is Funny. Nothing.

I am sitting here in my house in a state of utter disbelief and shock.

A young woman, a friend of my daughter's, was admitted to the hospital yesterday with Meningitis. And now she is gone. Gone. I don't have any details - what good are they anyway? I feel muscles in my heart ripping apart.

This beautiful child was an absolute joy. She was strong. Intelligent. Funny. Gorgeous. Friendly. She rode horses with a strength and vigor that surprised people around the country. She was talented and unique.

I'm simply sobbing. I want to be able to write so much more and to write something that will matter, that will grab bits and pieces of who she was before they are gone ....

I see her standing in my house in the middle of the night at a slumber party, coming up with tricks and games and feeling so totally at home that she made me feel even more at home in my own home....

The Beach

I'm down in the Clearwater/St. Pete area of Florida for a conference. I'm glad to be here, and will enjoy the workshops and the people.

But the best thing is, I got here yesterday and so I had some time this morning... and went to the beach.

It looked exactly like this picture that is now a broken link. Grrr.

Oh well.

It was heaven. I'm telling you - heaven.

An Influx of Grackles

Yesterday my daughter and I were sitting on our back porch reading. It was about 4:30 pm and the day was one of those fall days that really wants to be a summer day - it was muggy, hot and taking a long time to be over. The sun was bright and out of the edge of my awareness I saw some shadows moving across the ground.

Looking up from our books we noticed a flock of Grackles swooping into the trees at the edge of the woods ... about 500 feet behind our house. The flock kept coming, and coming, and coming. They swarmed into the water oaks and magnolias. They flew right into the pines and sycamores and pecan. They swooped into the bird feeders and down at the pond and onto the bird baths. And they kept coming and coming and coming. They swayed on the flimsy leaves of the bay tree, and perched on the rosemary bush.

(Fortunately, my daughter has never seen Alfred Hitchcock's "The Birds" so she was enrapt; I was leery.)

I snuck quietly, stealthily into the kitchen to get my camera. The birds didn't seem to interested in my movements. But the ones in the yard did flutter up into some trees. Too bad my camera couldn't really catch the view of these trees simply filled up with large black birds! The whole experience lasted about 45 minutes as they absolutely stripped my feeders of all the seed, and emptied the bird baths of water.

It's funny, I don't normally like Grackles. They're loud and noisy. They are messy. They chase off the other birds. The don't make beautiful songs (at least not at my house) and they've got this rather creepy, intense yellow eye in their dark head that gives me the impression that they not only see me but they also know what I'm thinking. It's very weird. But when they swoop in with such large numbers, and grace me with their presence, well, I feel compelled to like them a little bit.

And it turns out, it's not so hard to do.

(p.s. if you click on the photos they get larger and you can see that eerie yellow eye!)

Positive Thinking -

is it still possible? Honestly, I feel like the only way to keep my head going in a positive direction is to drop out of most contact with other people.

That just can't be right.

But what the heck is going on? Why are people so filled with hate, so angry and so wrong? I mean, I'm not one to make anyone have to agree with me, and I'm pretty tolerant for lots of different views. But to just spew evil and hatred and regurgitate someone else's spew ...what's up with that? What's creative about it? What is the benefit for the one doing it? Do I even want to know?

Saw this on a board today "Why does Obama Hate Poor People?" and it was a rant about putting a tariff on Chinese tires. I googled that phrase and came up with three websites with the same title and same rant. So is it a Borg-like mentality of simply soaking the Internet with the same stuff day after day to make people think it is something like a majority?

Blech.

I've really got to take a time out and just get into my own space, and write and deal with the birds and figure out my southern-winter garden. We're putting in some luscious loamy dirt this week, and planting soon. I'm thinking of renting a beach house I love on the Gulf and maybe doing it for a week every other month til I get some actual words on paper. This is the view from the front porch.

I have a great house myself, and don't necessarily need to "get away" from my home ... but there is no wireless Internet there, and I probably have lost my patience for dial-up so it would be some enforced time away from all the distractions. I've done some writing there before, and it is so peaceful.

I'm going to think positively about this - and see when it's available.

Pizza

For a sunny, end-of-summer Saturday it's been busy around here. Feeding the birds, taking a long walk, a full hour of morning meditation before the sun came up. And then pizza.

I think pizza fits in nicely when things are so simple and pleasurable and all the senses are engaged and you have an extra 40 minutes to spare before lunch.

I used the pizza dough recipe from "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle" which is pretty darn easy, and very tasty.

Today I started out by browning some Vidalia onions in olive oil, and then a cup of a variety of mushrooms (portabello, oyster, white button) and while that was cooling I spread some fresh marinara sauce over the rolled out dough. Then I chopped up some left-over broccoli and spread that around. Sliced some tomatoes from the Farmer's Market and layered them all over. I 'grated' some fresh cheese (made locally) and scattered that. It was a bit soft so they were kind of clumps but ended up being just the right taste.

Put the whole thing in the oven for 20 minutes and then enjoyed one of the best pizzas ever!!

Delicious!

I have been so pissed off by the ridiculous "outrage" about President Obama's school speech that if I'm not careful I can let it ruin my day. Getting my hands on some dough, slicing onions, mushing fresh cheese through a grater all help me get back to the things that are real, that really matter, and that I can actually do something about.

Sitting down at the table with my husband and my youngest kid and enjoying a delicious pizza together .... THAT is really what my life is about.

Today.

Changing.

Oh you know the old saw "People never really change" and all that. Well, I am here to report that there are a few who do. And maybe more than a few.

About 9 months ago my husband and I decided to change the way we eat. We decided to do a few simple things:

1. Eat at home.
2. Eat freshly prepared food.
3. When we're done, write down what we eat.

We had studied some basic food plans and "diets" and weren't too thrilled about prospects, but we did want to go into our later years with a few less pounds and a little more energy.

And so we began. At first I was intimidated. I'm not much of a cook - or so I thought. I don't like cookbooks. I'm very sensitive about the food I make and so I hate it if someone critiques me.

But these things ended up not being such a big deal. I bought some fresh vegetables, some fish, some rice and some whole grain bread. I am a painter and so I decided to just make the most colorful meals I could.

After the first week I was kind of amazed that it was fun. I was getting into it, and getting intrigued. We had actually talked about things, laughed over the meals, and the days somehow felt longer. Go figure.

After the first month we had both lost 8 pounds and we felt great and I felt energized like I was on a mission. Who knew?

Then I picked up a book that I had started in the Fall, but set aside for various reasons. "Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A year in the life of food" by Barbara Kingsolver. I read it avidly now ... and felt pulled into her family's attempt to eat consciously.

By this time it was just a subtle shift for me to move from homemade to healthy to local. It happened over the course of the next few months.

(Disclaimer: I've read all of Barbara Kingsolver's novels and loved every one so I already thought she rocked. This book though makes me wish I was related by blood, and I am wondering if I can gerry-rig Geneaology.com to make it happen.)

Fortunately for me Spring was coming to my home, and being in the South that meant fresh fruits and vegetables were plentiful. We are so lucky - we have strawberries, blueberries and peaches in our yard. As well as lettuce until the first days of 90 degree weather. We also have broccoli, snap peas, cucumbers and peppers galore. I can't grow a tomato to save my freaking life.

I wasn't as religious about it as the Kingsolver Hoppe family. And that's okay. I still bought some food at the grocery store, but I felt myself looking at labels and wondering about the packaging and choosing the organics way more often than not.

And then I just trusted the mystery of it all. I didn't try to figure out how to make a switch, or whether or not we could sustain this. Nor did I try to convert my family or preach a new way of life. I just began making some changes. I piled the fresh stuff directly into my canvas bags, and stopped buying bottled water. "We're out of water!" my husband would holler and I'd look at him like he was crazy and fill up a beautiful cobalt blue glass with sparkling water and ice and hand it to him. With a kiss. He doesn't miss the plastic bottles now.

I've found some friends who bake bread and now I'm thinking maybe I could do that. I bought Rikki Carroll's book on making cheese at home. My husband fainted but he revived in about an hour and is very much looking forward to that possibility. I think cheese is his totally favorite food.

I haven't had a diet coke in weeks. And I didn't even realize that til just now.

It is mysterious, this change. I used to eat out about 80 or even 90 % of the time. I always skipped breakfast. I struggled with weight and felt about 10 years older than I am -- and I"m old!! I turned 50 last year!

Now, after nine months of keeping it simple, keeping it real and keeping it full of color I've lost 37 pounds! My husband has lost over 50! We had no idea it could be that easy. I mean, it never felt like we were on a diet! Ever.

I even eat chocolate still!

So, I wonder what other old saws are ready to fall. But never let it be said that people can't change. They can. And I only know this because I did. In an area of my life that I had no idea I could, would or would WANT to change!

Yesterday my friend who gardens came out to the house and she is going to help me set up a mushroom growing contraption. And put in some rows of winter veggies. And she told me about a local dairy. And she has a friend who raises lambs and goats ..... and, well, I see some new horizon dawning.

And it is going to be pretty darn tasty.