Intense?
August 20, 2008 at 12:19 pm | Posted in Awareness, my life, photography, Uncategorized | 6 CommentsTags: Awareness, beach, Blue Ribbon Preserves, canning, cookbook, Edmonds, Puget Sound, WA
Intense? Me? Really?
So, yeah, I’ve been described as intense.
I don’t see myself as intense, but every once in a while somebody captures a shot of me on camera, and my first thought is, “Gosh, I look so damn intense!”
Of course, I tried my best to catch the “look” myself in the photo above. I was leafing through a new canning cookbook, and sensed my intense expression.
I’m really not all that intense. The truth is that I need to wear reading glasses, and I have a slight hearing loss in my left ear which causes me to cock my head to one side and lean in when somebody is talking to me–which tends to make people talk more because they believe they are fascinating me.
ABOVE: I highly recommend the book!
As you can see, I’m sitting in my beach view office.
I love this spot.
I can park right on the edge of the beach and watch the ferry cross back and forth. Other people park in cars alongside me. Most are single drivers or couples. People eating their lunches or reading a book. Many times I see people so relaxed they’ve fallen asleep–and yes, I’m guilty of a catnap on the beach too.
This spot has been a saving grace. I called my dad who I hadn’t spoken to in many years from this very spot. When my husband and I split, he asked me to take him back on this beach. I taught my son Greek Mythology when I homeschooled him on this beach. Many wonderful things have happened on this very beautiful beach.
So much has changed in my life. Change is good.
Mountains, Lost Dog, and a Happy Ending
August 13, 2008 at 6:36 am | Posted in Awareness, Family Fun, Mountains, my life, Uncategorized | 11 CommentsTags: day trip, found dog, lost dog, Mountains
Mark and I jumped into the minivan on Saturday and headed for the mountains. We usually throw in the sleeping bags–just in case we wander too far.
Our intention was to take a day trip to scout out a nice private future camp spot for ourselves and the “kids”. Sometimes I need to escape from the city. Don’t get me wrong, the city is great. We have access to beautiful parks, museums, live music, book readings, festivals, and so much more. More importantly, living near a large city means survival for our construction business.
Mark seems to enjoy city life. Crowds and traffic don’t rattle him at all. I, on the other hand, prefer the country–specifically, the mountains. While growing up, I’ve lived in large cities and extremely rural areas. I’ve often wondered if people, who have never left the city, have any idea how bright the stars look at night in the middle of the Rocky Mountains?
At the age of fifteen, I lived in Kremmling, Colorado. We had no telephone, no television or radio reception, and the closest neighbor was twenty minutes down the washboard dirt road. Kremmling is where my love for the mountains really blossomed. I remember walking Gore Canyon and the only sound I could hear was the sound of my boots crunching in the snow and the wind whistling through the pines. Herds of elk were commonly sighted outside the kitchen window while eating breakfast.
There is just something mystical about the mountains. I can clear my mind when I’m far from the city and far from people. I’m more aware.
Mark and I ended up driving more than two hours looking for a place to eat lunch. We veered off the main road and took a winding dirt road which we followed for another forty minutes.
I’m somewhat picky–must have mountain view, sun, no people close by, and a river.
We were getting pretty hungry, so we put John Denver on pause and pulled into this spot…
No plans means no good home cooked food. We had stopped at a market in a small rural town to pick something up from the deli for lunch. Big mistake. Store cooked fried chicken only tastes good when you’re starving. The broccoli salad I bought made up for what the chicken lacked in flavor.
This spot reminds me of a scene from The Waltons. The Waltons is one of my favorite old television programs. Corny? Whatever. I always wanted to marry John Boy Walton. I still do.
Sadly, the creek that runs by this spot is quite a steep hike down, so after gobbling up our Kit Kat bar (hey, if we’re eating store bought fried chicken, we might as well go all the way!), we moved on.
Finally, I spotted the perfect camp site.
“STOP!” I shouted, “This is it!”
Mark obediently spun the van around , and I jumped out the door before he had come to a complete stop. I couldn’t climb down the river bank fast enough–not an easy feat in a sundress and a pair of Jibs. Mark was unloading the camp chairs, as I stared out over the river…
We sat here and stared for quite a while. Few words were exchanged. At times, Mark can be quite verbose. Thank God and Buddha, Mark had toned it down some.
Read and See More Here…. Continue Reading Mountains, Lost Dog, and a Happy Ending…
All You Need is Love
July 28, 2008 at 5:15 pm | Posted in Awareness, channeling, my life, photography, Uncategorized | 9 CommentsTags: Awareness, channeling, consciousness, ego, metaphysical, overcoming ego, spirit, spirituality, The Power of Intention, The Power of Now, Wayne Dyer
Grapevines
Mark and I spent an afternoon at the beach this weekend. While relaxing to the sound of seagulls and waves lapping on the shore, I was reading Wayne Dyer’s book, The Power of Intention. Dyer gives us a list of “Seven Steps for Overcoming Ego’s Hold On You”.
1. Stop Being Offended
2. Let Go of your Need to Win
3. Let Go of your Need to be Right
4. Let go of your Need to be Superior
5. Let Go of your Need to have More
6. Let Go of identifying yourself on the basis of your achievments.
7. Let Go of your Reputation
As I read the list and his brief explanations of each step, I smiled in agreement.
Over the years, I’ve discovered I am the master of my own happiness and my own misery. This is a powerful discovery because it tells me I am never a victim. It also means I have to take responsibility for my choices and cannot blame others for my perceived problems.
Strawberry Fields Forever
July 17, 2008 at 5:20 pm | Posted in Awareness, cooking, Family Fun, Food, gardening, my life, photography, Recipes, Uncategorized | 8 CommentsTags: berry picking, canned strawberry butter, canning, cooking, Food, monroe, strawberries, strawberry butter, strawberry fields, strawberry freezer jam, strawberry picking, strawberry syrup, washington
ABOVE: The smile is fake…kneeling on cardboard in a field of strawberries is painful when you’re over 40!
On, what felt like, the hottest day of summer, Mark and I took a drive into farm country to pick organic strawberries and raspberries. The farm was amazing, the berries sweet and beautiful. I don’t believe anything smells as wonderful as a field of fresh berries.
I used to be more of a raspberry girl, but after this experience, I have to admit my love for the strawberry has threatened my loyal relationship to the raspberry. It’s okay, I have enough love in my heart for both.
There were a few pickers there ahead of us. Most of them were wearing Asian conical rice hats. I had never thought about how perfect those hats work at keeping the sun out of your face. I took a mental note to search the International District for a rice hat. For some reason, after we entered the field, everybody left. We were on this huge farm and had it all to ourselves.
The weather was a little warmer than we are used to. The temperatures were in the low 90s—ouch! We hadn’t planned this trip, it was a last minute decision after visiting fruit stands and not being satisfied with the price of berries at our local produce stands.
For organic pick-your-own berries I found the price of $1.20 lb pretty reasonable. We managed to pick 12 pounds of strawberries (a very full flat) and 8 pounds of raspberries. Needless to say, we were pretty heat exhausted after picking, so we raced home, drank a ton of water, showered, and passed out. I kept the berries stored in a fridge I keep out in the cottage until we were rested enough to start working with them.
There are numerous strawberry recipes available from numerous sources. I was a bit overwhelmed with ideas, but I managed to squeeze in some new ideas and recipes before I ran out of strawberries.
If you like waffles, pancakes, scones, and muffins–you’re going to love them with Strawberry Butter. Strawberry Butter is one of the easiest recipes to prepare. Yet, the sweetness of the fresh berries and richness of the butter, on a waffle, is over the top!
Strawberry Butter
This is like a “10″ on the WOW scale!
Strawberry Butter
1 pint fresh strawberries
1/2 lb butter, room temperature
1 cup powdered sugar
Beat butter and sugar together till smooth and well combined.
Stir in finely chopped strawberries. ( I left mine a bit chunky)
Chill in fridge. Use within a week or freeze in serving small containers, molds, or roll into logs and wrap in plastic and until ready to use.
You can also chill them on a baking sheet and use a mini cookie cutter and cut out little pats of butter in different shapes.
Strawberry Syrup
You can’t have the strawberry butter on the waffles without the strawbery syrup! Most recipes I found called for corn syrup. I really didn’t want to use corn syrup, so I basically cooked strawberries down with sugar until it was quite bubbly and thick. You can freeze this syrup as well, and it makes a great sauce for strawberry shortcakes and cheesecakes too.
Strawberry Butter, Strawberry Freezer jam, and Syrup
If you’ve made apple butter you know how time consuming it is–the same goes for the canned Strawberry Butter–which is NOT the same thing as the fresh strawberry butter shown in the first photo. It is simply a more concentrated cooked down strawberry pulp with the juice removed. If you don’t mind stirring over a hot stove for what seems like forever, go for it! It tastes great. Of course nothing beats freezer jam—tastes like fresh berries everytime. I use Sure-Jell pectin box with recipe inside.
I also discovered a new favorite strawberry dessert which I’ll post next!
Cherry Jams and Infused Cherries
July 13, 2008 at 8:30 am | Posted in Awareness, cooking, Family Fun, Food, My Dysfunctional family, my life, Recipes, Uncategorized | 5 CommentsTags: Bing Cherry Jam, canning, cherries, Cherry Amaretto Jam, cherry liqueur, cooking, homemade jam, Infused Cherries
ABOVE: Cherry Jam w/ Amaretto and spices
I scored a huge amount of cherries from a roadside stand–at a great price. Well, maybe not such a great price in some regions, but $1.99 lb for sweet purple firm bing cherries in the Seattle area are a steal!
I placed the bags of cherries in the fridge and stepped outside to work in the gardens. It was one of those days when everything needs to be done: tomato pruning, watering, weeding, mulching, and chicken tending. After the veggies and chickens were taken care of the roses needed feeding, pruned, and watered. I have over 20 rose bushes in my yard. I’m sure rose owners feel my pain. By days end I was beat!
By the time I came inside the house it was getting dark outside. I told Mark I was going to soak in the tub and asked him if he’d test the cherry pitter I bought from the thrift shop. I specifically added, “Just try it on one cherry.”
When I exited the bathroom–refreshed and ready to fall into bed–I caught a sight out of my peripheral vision. Horrified at what I was seeing, I shrieked,
“What are you doing?”
“Pitting the cherries for you.”
“Oh my God! I specifically asked you to try it on just one!”
“I know, but I thought I’d surprise you and get them all done so you won’t have to do it.”
How do you keep steam from shooting out of your ears when your starting to foam at the mouth? I mean, he had this look on his face that said, “Surprise!” yet in my mind I knew this meant I’d be up half the night canning cherries. Cherries go bad fast after pitting. I mean, why is he looking all innocent? You know that look? Like a sad hound dog? Innocent and friendly? Well, I suppose a kindly person would have smiled and went to work. I didn’t react like a kindly person.
Picture, if you will, a half nude, mascara dripping, barefoot, middle aged woman wearing a headband and a towel raging through the kitchen out into the garage grabbing a giant canner that clangs into the night.
“Where are the goddamned canning jars Mark?”
“What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong? I’ll tell you what’s wrong–my back is out, my head hurts, my sinuses are stuffed with allergies, and I have to can ten pounds of cherries before they rot–that’s what’s wrong!”
“Oh damn, sorry honey, I didn’t know.”
Another hound dog expression.
I tried to calm down, I swear I tried. My awareness just wasn’t going to kick in at this moment. I traveled back to the past, into the future, and out of my mind.
I then started to whine, “I’m going to need a lot of help.”
“I’ll do whatever it takes”
You know, this is probably music to most married women’s ears. Well, maybe a younger married woman’s ears who hasn’t spent 25 years with the same man. The same man who can’t find anything in the kitchen. The same man who doesn’t know the difference between chopping and pureeing. So, I put him to work—cleaning.
The entire canning process was not fun. Through it all I made sure Mark knew I was not enjoying myself. Clanging, dropping, screams from burns, frowns, tears, grumbles, you name it–I had it covered.
In the end, I explained to Mark that I wasn’t angry at him, I was just disappointed in having to work into the night over a hot stove canning jams and cherries. Of course I had to end with a disclaimer: “Unless, of course, you were being passive aggressive. In that case, I’m angry at you.”
I am one who believes the energy and space you are in while working with food, goes into the food. Normally, I think loving thoughts and move through the process as Zen-like as possible. That said, I am going to give my cherry jams to passive people. There’s fire in them there jars 
Peace out and happy canning!
- Infused Cherries
Above: whole cherries infused in Cointreau and Brandy
Bing Cherry Jam Ingredients
| 4 c Pitted; chopped bing | 1/4 ts Salt |
| 1 pk Powdered pectin | 1/2 ts Ground cinnamon |
| 1/4 c Lemonjuice | 1/2 ts Ground cloves |
| 1/4 c Amaretto | 4 1/2 c Sugar |
Instructions for Bing Cherry Jam
(from Ball Blue Book) Place all ingredients, except the sugar, into a 4-6 quart (3800-5200 ml) kettle, bring the mixture to a boil that cannot be stirred down. Immediately add the sugar. Bring the mixture to a boil and continue boiling for 2 minutes. Skim mixture. Pour hot jam immediately into hot jars, leaving 1/4 inch ( 6 mm) head space. Adjust caps. Process 10 minutes in a boiling water bath canner. Yield 5 or 6 half-pint jars.
cherries with blemishes.
Prick each cherry with a sterilized needle and
place into canning jars.
Fill with desired infusion.
Clean the rim of each jar with a damp paper
towel. Close and let fruit infuse in dark, cool
place for 3 months. Turn jars weekly for 1 month.
No sterilization is necessary.
He Did IT!
June 18, 2008 at 5:19 pm | Posted in Awareness, Family Fun, my life | 14 CommentsTags: college, home schooling, homeschooling, mi nino, my boy, Olivia, Sean, Seattle, University of Washington, University of Washington graduation ceremony 2008, WA
Make sure you turn on the sound above!
Sean received his Bachelor Degree this past Saturday on June 14th.
The ceremony was beautiful, the weather was perfect. Mother Nature loves Sean too. Words cannot express how proud I am of my son.
As a mother and especially as a homeschool mother, watching him walk into the stadium was an amazing feeling. It wasn’t just that he was graduating–it was knowing how hard he worked to earn his degree. It was knowing that all the effort I had put into homeschooling was worth it. It was knowing he had developed a true love for learning–which was what I had hoped for.
I am grateful for the support of homeschool pioneers like Karen Fogle who supported my decision to pull Sean out of public school and bring him home. She taught a short course for parents who did not have a two year college degree. She bypassed the formalities and gave me a fast “pass” which allowed me to remove Sean from public school immediately. She believed in my ability to teach Sean even though I had never graduated high school! I soon discovered that home teaching isn’t anything like regular school. I believe modeling social interactions and my own love of learning and life helped encourage Sean to do the same. At one point Sean took off on his own and left me in his academic dust! It was an awesome experience. I would do it again in a heartbeat.
We love you Sean!
CONGRATULATIONS to Olivia too ! Olivia is Sean’s girlfriend of three years. We love Olivia and it made the graduation extra special to see her walking with our son. You two will go far. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again–I couldn’t have hand picked a better woman and partner for Sean. Olivia is as intelligent as she is beautiful and we are proud of her too!
We love you Olivia!
Sean is planning on applying to graduate school. His father and I wish him the best in whatever direction he chooses to travel in life. I signed his card with a quote by Mahatma Gandhi which I will close with now:
We must be the change we wish to see in the world.
Gandhi
More photos behind the cut just click here Continue Reading He Did IT!…
Garden Gnomes, Fairies, and Wee Folk ~ Do You Believe?
June 1, 2008 at 6:10 pm | Posted in Awareness, Family Fun, gardening, My Dysfunctional family, my life | 3 CommentsTags: fairies, garden art, gardens, gnomes, nature, yard gnomes
ABOVE: one of many gnomes left in my yard my the former owner.
When I was around four years old, an elf-like being came to visit me in the middle of the night. Well, I’m not quite sure he was an elf. In my four year old mind, he appeared to be an elf. He made an unbearable few months more tolerable. He visited two or three times that I remember. He wore pajamas similar to my little male cousins. One time he played the piano for me.
I know it could have been a dream sequence, but I’d like to imagine he was real and sent from another realm to make me smile. I never forgot him.
When I bought this home over three years ago, the gnomes came with it. I had wanted to haul them away, as I found them a little tacky and faded, but for some reason they grew on me. They serve as a reminder that there are many things I do not understand, and there is more to the world than a little me.
ABOVE: This one appears to have been painted and he will be close to the chicken coop
Above: I love this little sleeping gnome
ABOVE: Even this little frog was left
Medicine Cards ~ The Eagle
June 1, 2008 at 5:45 pm | Posted in Awareness, my life | 4 CommentsTags: animal totems, eagle medicine, medicine cards, metaphsyical, new age, spirituality, symbolism, tarot cards
I have used Medicine Cards for many years. I gave my original deck away a few years ago, to a friend who I felt could use them, and I used a smaller deck. Last year, I found a brand new set of Medicine Cards at a thrift store, and I’ve been pulling a card every now and again, for both myself and privately, to assist in prayer for my own friends and family. I usually think about the person I am concerned about, pull a card, and place it next to their picture. I’m sure I don’t need a card, but it’s nice to have something to look at and remind me to hold them in the light when I see the card next to their photo. I don’t “worry” about the person. Instead I send the energy of the medicine in the card to assist them in working through their own difficulty.
Today I pulled the Eagle for myself. I love eagles.
Eagle Medicine helps me to remember the greater spiritual picture and to recognize my connection to all that is.
Life is a Beach. Kinda Sorta
May 27, 2008 at 3:48 pm | Posted in Awareness, my life | 2 CommentsTags: beach, Brackett's Landing, Edmonds, ocean, Puget Sound, WA
I like to go to Brackett’s Landing on Puget Sound and watch the water. Friday, we headed over to the water to take a break. We usually call a trip to the beach a “break”. It doesn’t seem to matter what kind of mood I’m in when I arrive, it always feels like a spiritual sigh of relief as we turn off the engine and stare out over the water.
The sounds are familiar here. This particular day was cool and cloudy.
I hear the little waves lapping on the shore. All at once I hear the ferry horn blow and I jump in my seat. I have many memories here. Some of the memories are secrets that only Mark and I know of. I am connected to this beach, and this beach is connected to me.
Pink Slippers and Chicken Coops
May 26, 2008 at 12:00 pm | Posted in Awareness, Chick stuff, My Dysfunctional family, my life | Leave a commentTags: Awareness, chicken coop, chicken coop foundation, chickens, ego, family, gender roles, marriage, pain body, The Power of Now
We’re in the construction business, which means every now and then there is a lull, which means Mark has down time and is home with me. It’s lovely for the first day or two and then something shifts. I call it “Vagina versus Penis” time.
I’m sure Eckhart Tolle would say it’s simply our egos–our false selves– and pain bodies, but I have to admit, I often wonder if a penis and vagina actually take on lives of their own.
It started innocently enough. Mark decided he would go out and start building the foundation for the chicken coop while I showered. I love how skilled Mark is in his line of work and I appreciate how physically strong the man is too. I know he knows more than I do about construction, and I know he knows I know more than he does about cooking and baking. I also know neither one of us knows much about building a chicken coop.
As I exited my shower, dried my hair, applied some makeup and sunscreen, something hit me! I remembered during my research of chicken coop building that many people had set their foundation with cinder blocks. Realizing Mark hadn’t picked up concrete blocks I raced out to tell him we needed to stop and run to the shop for concrete blocks. As I started to exit the back door I stopped myself and remembered how Mark had reacted when I made a suggestion about the raised garden bed–let’s just say it was a four hour event. You see, I know Mark doesn’t “appreciate” my input in construction projects and I knew I had to tread carefully on this one. I walked out with a big smile and complimented the work he had done so far. It really was quite impressive…I guess.
Me: Hey Mark, you know, I just remembered that many of the material lists I’ve read online include placing the foundation on blocks.
Mark: Well, I’m using treated wood, so I don’t need the blocks.
Me: Oh, well, why do you suppose the lists I read call for the blocks?
Mark: I don’t know, but we don’t need them.
Me: Oh well, I am just wondering, why do you suppose they use them?
Mark: Because they’re farmers and probably have them lying around.
Me: Hmmm. I wonder if it has something to do with lifting it off the ground so water damage from rain can’t leak in?
Mark: Water won’t leak in this coop.
Me: (starting to get a little tired of this now) Oh, really? How do you know that?
Mark: It just won’t.
Me: (starting to lose it) What about rats? You don’t even know why they use the blocks and I’m thinking there might be a good reason for it and you won’t even research it.
Mark: (Starting to lose it now) What do you want me to do , Anita? How do you want the coop built?
Me: (pretty pissed off) I want it with cinder blocks on the bottom. At least I would like to find out if we need them or don’t need them.
Mark: Fine, we need to stop everything and go buy cinder blocks.
Me: (completely in ego now) Why stop everything? Just go on and build it the way you want to and ignore me and the 200 other chicken farmers I’ve read about who DO use cinder blocks because you know everything and I don’t have a penis, so I’m a complete idiot!
At this point, I stomp off in my pink slippers and go back inside the house to stew.
When I’m trying to center myself I do things like cook or bake. I immediately threw a chicken in the oven to roast and started a quick soak on a pot of pinto beans. When I was centered again, I went back outside to tell Mark that I have no idea why people use the cinder blocks and that I’ll just let him decide what to do with the coop himself. He said he had thought about it and decided it was a good idea for a few reasons and that he would go get the blocks.
We hugged, and I turned to go check my beans, but as I turned, I noticed the markers I set posting 30 feet from property lines (legally our coop has to be 30 feet from all property lines) had been moved. I asked Mark if the coop was actually 30 feet from the fence?
Mark: Yeah, it’s about 30 feet.
Me: About 30 feet? Is it 30 feet or not?
Mark: I don’t know, I don’t really think the neighbors will care.
Me: I think the law cares, and you don’t know if the neighbors will care.
Mark: It’s 30 feet.
Me: Let’s measure it.
Mark angrily and grabs a tape measure and starts to measure the distance while stomping his feet, kicking lumber, and snapping his tape measure like a mad man, and the whole scene escalates again.
Me: See? It’s not 30 feet!
Mark: The neighbor won’t care.
Me: Mark, they can make us tear down the coop and get rid of the chickens if it isn’t 30 feet.
Mark: Nobody will know, and I don’t give a shit what the neighbors do.
Me: (completely beyond ego with full blown pain body rising up like a demon and changing my voice to that of the girl from the Exorcist) You are such a damned know-it-all! I’ve had it! Just because I don’t have a penis doesn’t make me an idiot! I don’t want the chickens anymore–this is too much stress. I have to spend more time kid gloving your ego than it would take to build the fucking coop by myself!
Mark: God, you don’t have to freak out.
Me: I quit! I give up! Do whatever you want. I hate the chickens!
I went back into the house, placed the beans in the crock pot. Centered myself again, and after about 30 minutes went out to invite Mark in for some lunch.
I passed him the platter.
Me: Would you like some more?
Mark: Yes, thank you. Oh, I went ahead and measured the 30 feet from both sides and I staked them. Sorry I was being such a jerk. You’re right, we don’t need to go through all this work again or draw trouble from the neighbors. At least this way it’s all legal.
Me: Would you like a cookie?
Mark: Yes, thank you. Uhm, do you still hate the chickens?
Me: No, I love the chickens.
Mark: Do you hate me?
Me: Just a little bit.
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