Spiders, Seniors, Summer

I read a bit about spiders today, an interesting bit. It seems this is the time of year the adult males go out cruising for chicks, hence they are more visible, but there are not more of them. I read there are indoor spiders and there are outdoor spiders, so if you put an indoor spider outside you aren't doing them any favors. Here I am, a murderer of innocent spiders for all these years.

I have been following our own favorite Brittany and her first few days of being a senior on Facebook, hum not so innocent. I think that girl is planning on making her senior year memorable. And Blaine is in high school, I guess that means Clark is also. That makes everyone over thirty quake with the power of time passing. It seems like it was just yesterday when it was Ian and Summer becoming high schoolers. Time can be fierce on us old timers.

Now Summer is a fierce and feisty wife and mother. Like a female badger defending her home. She has more pets than I can recall. The only one I remember the name of is Rocco/Rocko? She's fiercely protective of them also. I wonder if she knows how many pets she has owned since she was nine years old?

Ten things I know about Summer; For her Las Vegas wedding she had her dearly beloved Aunt Jean make the wedding dress. She partied a little bit at her Vegas wedding. She loves Christmas and Michel's birthday parties. Has a double dose of English blood coursing through her veins, three generations deep on her mother's side and ten, no eleven generations deep on her daddies side. I think that is enough English blood for anyone except Claire and Judy, they can have all they want.

We like full, half, quarter, or smidgen blood in our family: Native American, Mexican, English, Scottish, Irish, horse thief, banker, witch or weirdo. Not too many preachers though.

I know Summer loves camping and cooking and computer games, but I don't know where she would like to travel to, well, besides the UK, of course. Does she lean towards Lady Gaga or Kenny Chesney? Are her favorite movies like Tropic Thunder or Pride and Prejudice?

Summer works hard, takes cakes care of her dogs, plays when she can, snuggles her baby, takes care of her man. But: Has she caught a trout? Hiked a mountain? Driven to Austin? Been to an emergency room?

And more importantly, what's her opinion of spiders?


The poem for my friend Lynn.

The Road to Coyle

"Huh"
She said
As the road to Coyle
Coiled around mazes of forest green
Miles
To the end
At the community center
Sitting
Proud and empty

"Huh"
She said
Searching
Bland landscapes
For vistas, beaches, cliffs
For a bigger bliss

"Huh"
She said
The lesson of Coyle
Not learned
--
Yet

"Huh"
She said.


Life isn't always a sensational senior year.
Life isn't always a smooth wedding party.
Life isn't always spider free.

Sometimes it is better. Sometimes it is the road to Coyle, full speed, fifty-nine miles, technicolor, with a touch of danger, a touch of mystery and some puzzling metal pots every three miles.

P.S. The City of Black Hawk Colorado has banned bicycles. Can you believe it? City leaders say they get in the way of the casino tour buses. Well, excuse me for pedaling.

Busy

The world is busy and sending me messages.

I had calls today from Oklahoma, Arkansas, California, Owasso, Midwest City, Fort Smith, Newport Beach, Norma, Maxine and Josephine.

I received the message from the Cosmos, now who am I supposed to call?

My friend Carol is busy sewing, crab fishing, going to the beach and library, busy messing about with her nephew Jacob. Sandy is practicing her Habu Sake Dragon boat rowing skills, going to JA Jance book signings and bike riding. Mary is busy with her granddaughters and helping Lisa build her house. Lynn is toddling to the waterfront, wharf walking and taking photographs. Claire is busy in her yard, I know because Ian has been helping her. Kathleen and Sandy volunteer for dogs, people and causes.

My sons are moving furniture, hauling groceries, walking the dog, biking, hiking, shopping, being with friends, going to movies and going to boat/RV shows. Stephanie is working out with her friends with a personal trainer.

My family is doing water aerobics, gardening, driving, walking and messing about with grand kids. Julia is hiking the trails and Jeff is staying one step ahead of her. Nora is working out -- sort of. Folks are going to plays or concerts, gardening, weeding, swimming and just in general keeping busy.

Me? I clipped my fingernails.

Last of the Food Rules:

Pay more eat less.
Eat less.
Treat treats as treats.
No snacks, seconds or sweets except on days beginning with the letter S.
The whiter the bread the sooner you're dead.
Eat like an omnivore.
"It's a good idea to add some new species, and not just new foods, to your diet. New kinds of plants, animals, and fungi."

I bought some ground cherries. They were new. Never heard of them, never saw them, never ate them. Everyone liked them, Connor loved them. Sort of a cross between tomatoes and kiwi. Related to the tomato and tomatillo. From Mexico.

Ain't life grand. Do Rah Zoom.

Blathering Continues

Semi blathering continues.

Did you know your ancestors, the Foster Andover MA witches, have their own page on Wikipedia? Was I the last person to know that? I became curious after my friend told me about the witch books I mentioned in an earlier blog, so I googled them. Isn't that what we modern American's do? Google everything. Semi knowledge at our fingertips. Maybe the whole wide world googles, do they? Marc, you are a world traveler do they google, or it's equivalent, the world over?

Here was my train of thought: Food Rule #2, Don't eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn't recognize as food, Catherine giving me the information about witches, Anne Foster came to mind, google, question Marc, and here we are semi blogging.

It's pleasing in a strange sort of way to see the ladies there. Ten generations later I can still semi claim them, as though they might account for some of my oddness, or strangeness. They must have suffered a great deal and today I'm semi feeling their pain. But enough of that, if you want to know more google them. Jean and Cathy are coming to visit and I've started semi dusting.

Jean, when Ian and I went to the Farmer's Market last Sunday we bought some Edison Bakery bread. They were there. The bread was six dollars for a huge loaf, and I have been reading Food Rules, so I thought what the hell. The bread is fantastic, we are definitely going back for more. They had the little chocolate brioche thingys we had but I didn't buy anymore of those.

One loaf was sourdough and the other was multi grain, both semi satisfy a food rule, lucky me. Mr Pollan's rule #33 suggests you eat foods that been predigested by bacteria or fungi, foods that have been transformed by live microorganisms, such as yogurt, sauerkraut, soy sauce, kimchi, and sourdough. Lucky me. And rule #37, eat whole grains. Lucky me.

Rule #16 is buy your snacks at the local Farmer's Market, you'll find yourself snacking on fresh or dried fruits and nuts -- real food -- rather than chips and sweets. Oops, maybe bread doesn't exactly qualify for rule #16.

I liked rule #24, "A Chinese proverb offering a good summary of traditional wisdom regarding the relative healthfulness of different kinds of food, though it inexplicably leaves out the very healthful and entirely legless fish."

"Eating what stands on one leg (mushrooms and plant foods) is better than eating what stands on two legs (fowl), which is better than eating what stands of four legs (cows, pigs, and other mammals)."

Let's go back to the witches for a moment: I have always teased Stephanie about Roger and Connor's witch ancestry. Unbeknownest to Roger when he posted the photograph of The Gilbert's, his great-grandmother is actually the ancestry line. She is about as far from a witchy looking person as Mickey Mouse, but there she is the link between Andover witches and you disguised as a grand-mother, a farmer's wife, a person who knew real food.

As I semi continue my quest for more healthful eating habits I'm semi thinking of you. Except for Jean and Cathy, they are consuming my mind these days.

Did anybody ever think about how Grandmother and Grandfather Gilbert met?

Does anyone translate the comments from our international fans?

Life isn't always real butter.

Happy Birthday Ian

It's Ian's birthday today, I went all out and took him to The Mongolian Grill for lunch, the $7.99 blue plate special. Yesterday I baked him brownies in 90 degree weather with out air conditioning. You are only that stupid for love. He deserves it though, he cleaned all the fans and vacuumed, hauled in and put away all the groceries, hauled out all the trash and recycle, unloaded the dish washer, drove the car, delivered the rocking chair to Mary, made arrangements to work in Claire's yard, and would be happy to spend his birthday evening with me if he didn't have more interesting plans with friends. What was I saying about love?

I was talking to Roger on the phone and said something about Ian's birthday and Roger said, "Oh sh_t." Do you think he forgot?

Happy Birthday Ian.

Sandy, I missed reading the book club meeting recap on your blog. I loved the new photos though. My sister and niece are visiting in a few weeks and we will be headed for that same Hurricane Ridge for our own photo ops. For those of you who don't remember Sandy has our entire book club reading list on her blog. The entire list. All eleven years. Don't seem possible.
Sandy's blog is:
http://sandy-lifeisbeautifullifeiscrazy.blogspot.com/

Book club recap:
We all loved our Sherman Alexie book.
If you haven't read him, do so.
Book club forecast:
I took Angle of Repose back to the library unread.
Too hot to read that dense.
Somebody was waiting for it so I couldn't recheck it out.
Probably somebody from book club.

Picasso is coming to the Seattle Art Museum, I guess it will be quite a collection. I might rouse myself and go see 150 collected works from all periods of his career most from his private collection of favorite pieces including photographs sculptures paintings drawings and such, I might, if the tickets are less than twenty dollars. I won't have to drive downtown because I will already be downtown working. Lucky me. The adventure is pushed back to mid-September.

Today's Food Rules:

It's not food if it's called the same name in every language. (Big Mac)
Have a glass of wine with dinner.
Don't get your fuel from the same place your car does.

Just trying to keep my cool here in sweltering Seattle.

Life isn't always a cool drink of water.

To Err is Human

More Food Rules from M Pollan:

What should I eat? (Eat food.)
What kind of food should I eat? (Mostly plants.)
How should I eat? (Not too much.)

However if you feel like sinning here are two killer recipes, pun not intended. Just because they add to cholesterol, diabetes, high blood pressure, weight, heart problems, and everything else doesn't mean they can't be enjoyed. To err is human, right? Mr Michael Pollan, himself, said you can eat anything you want as long as you make it yourself. I'm sure he meant "melt the marshmallows" as making it yourself and "pour into chocolate crust" as making it yourself. Anyway enjoy.

From Mary's delightful daughter Colleen -- thanks Colleen it was worth the wait.

Orange Pecan Cake

2 c cake flour
1 tsp baking soda
1/2 tsp baking powder
1/4 tsp salt (I always leave the salt out so the recipe will be healthy)
1 tsp ground cinnamon
3/4 c powdered sugar
1/2 c olive oil
2 eggs
3/4 c milk
1 tsp vanilla
2 Tbs orange zest
1 Orange diced (good healthy fruit)
1 c chopped raisins (good healthy dried fruit)
1 c chopped pecans (good healthy nut)

325 degrees, 9x12 pan, I don't have the time, probably about 40 minutes, but I'm just guessing. Half of my recipe is missing so use your best judgment.

Mix dry ingredients.
Add wet ingredients.
Beat well with zest, fruit, and nuts.
Again, my best guess.

...and...

This recipe came from Bobbie Fortener, a very reliable source. Thanks Bobbie. I use Seattle Chocolates and it is ever bit as good as Frangos. Or any other brand of good chocolate truffles for that matter.

Frangos Chocolate Mint Truffle Pie

8-12 oz Frangos or Seattle Chocolate truffles
12 Marshmallows - large
1/4 C of 2 cups whipping cream
Remainder of whipping cream whipped

Melt marshmallows & Frangos with 1/4 C of the whipping cream. Blend in "whipped" cream and pour into a chocolate crust.


So, angel on one shoulder and devil on the other, which one will it be which one will it be?

I'm off to the Farmer's Market to buy some good healthy veggies.

What's Happening?

Thursday Roger and I were complaining about the 80 degree weather. Today it's 88 and climbing. We are in for a week of heat. My friend Carol put in an inexpensive mister and said it helped. She is supposed to make me a sun shade for my bedroom window when I get her the measurements, but I don't think I will let her in my bedroom until it reaches at least 98. Letting her in my bedroom would involve dusting. Yikes!

Jean told me the swim trip to Greenleaf was too damn hot and everyone went home early. She didn't say how hot.

Ian is out running around in the heat, Christian is working in the heat, Stephanie is exercising in the heat, Roger is biking/running/climbing/hiking in the heat, I don't think Connor notices the heat, and Jan is dreaming of cool days, cooler nights and the company of Jean and Cathy come September. I have plans. How does the Textile Center and Museum in Tillamook, Oregon sound? And I guess I'll dust for you guys.

I fixed my toilet with a paperclip, maybe. I am amazed at the handyman I am not. We'll see if it lasts a week or two. How long do paperclips last in water before they rust away?

I had two Salem witch books semi-recommended, they both sound interesting. The recommending person had just found them and hadn't actually read them. So who knows if they are good or not.

Book 1: The Heretic's Daughter by Kathleen Kent

Synopsis

Martha Carrier was one of the first women to be accused, tried and hanged as a witch in Salem Massachusetts. Like her mother, young Sarah Carrier is bright and willful, openly challenging the small, brutal world in which they live. Often at odds with one another, mother and daughter are forced to stand together against the escalating hysteria of the trials and the superstitious tyranny that led to the torture and imprisonment of more than 200 people accused of witchcraft. This is the story of Martha's courageous defiance and ultimate death, as told by the daughter who survived.
Kathleen Kent is a tenth generation descendent of Martha Carrier. She is also a natural-born storyteller, and in her first novel, she paints a haunting portrait, not just of Puritan New England, but also of one family's deep and abiding love in the face of fear and persecution

And Book 2: Salem Witch Judge: The Life and Repentance of Samuel Sewall by Eva LaPlante

Synopsis

In 1692 Puritan Samuel Sewall sent twenty people to their deaths on trumped-up witchcraft charges. The nefarious witch trials in Salem, Massachusetts represent a low point of American history, made famous in works by Longfellow, Nathaniel Hawthorne (himself a descendant of one of the judges), and Arthur Miller. The trials might have doomed Sewall to infamy except for a courageous act of contrition now commemorated in a mural that hangs beneath the golden dome of the Massachusetts State House picturing Sewall's public repentance. He was the only Salem witch judge to make amends.

But, remarkably, the judge's story didn't end there. Once he realized his error, Sewall turned his attention to other pressing social issues. Struck by the injustice of the New England slave trade, a commerce in which his own relatives and neighbors were engaged, he authored "The Selling of Joseph," America's first antislavery tract. While his peers viewed Native Americans as savages, Sewall advocated for their essential rights and encouraged their education, even paying for several Indian youths to attend Harvard College. Finally, at a time when women were universally considered inferior to men, Sewall published an essay affirming the fundamental equality of the sexes. The text of that essay, composed at the deathbed of his daughter Hannah, is republished here for the first time.

In Salem Witch Judge, acclaimed biographer Eve LaPlante, Sewall's great-great-great-great-great-great-granddaughter, draws on family lore, her ancestor's personal diaries, and archival documents to open a window onto life in colonial America, painting a portrait of a man traditionally vilified, but who was in fact an innovator and forefather who came to represent the best of the American spirit.

Like I said, they both sound interesting.

Also interesting and for your reading entertainment a few more Food Rules from Michael Pollan's book by the same name.

Eat foods that your great-grandmother would recognize as food.
Avoid foods that you see advertised on television.
Eat foods that will eventually rot, real food is alive and will eventually die, except honey. Honey has a shelf life measured in centuries.
If it came from a plant eat it, if it came from a plant where everyone wears surgical caps don't.
It's not food if it arrived through the window of your car.

Eating healthy is hard work. Being healthy is hard work. Exercising is hard work. Good luck to Jean and Cathy and their water aerobics. What's happening with everyone else?

Love,

Bumblebees know Flowers

I know life like bumblebees know flowers.

If I was writing an essay on life that's what I would say, "I know life like a bumblebee knows flowers."

Last week I wrote my life is a like a leaf drifting amongst the eddies and currents of a stream, a river, an ocean. Whether held up against a rock or going over a waterfall, I am still like a leaf on the currents of life. Life is hard like that. How can a leaf know the ocean?

Why are America's hard working people scorned as leading dull dead lives, un-artistic, un-poetic, inarticulate? I admire the hard working. The hard working poor of America, of the world. Where is the sin of caring for yourself or your family by driving nails or driving trucks, by laboring? What happened in America that the hard working became a subject of scorn, ridicule, mocking?

All over the world, the hard working people are going to the plant every day, going to the field every day, going to the office every day. Going to the job every day, day after day not because it is fullfilling but because it is necessary. I can't find the fault. I don't know what it is like to drive oxen in India or mine diamonds in Africa or pick coffee beans, but Judy Collins sang a song called "Let's Drink to the Salt of the Earth," let's do that.

I wanted to be an artist and didn't quite make it.
Jean wanted to be a teacher and didn't quite make it.
Janice wanted to be an accountant and didn't quite make it.
Jerry wanted an outdoor profession and didn't quite make it.

But we all labored our way to where we are.

I only know my flower, but I can imagine a garden out there.
I only know my leaf, but I can imagine an ocean out there.

Now I will go sit in my dinosaur chair and be quiet.

Warts

I've had a wart on my body since I was five or six years old. It thinks it is the Enterprise boldly going where no wart has gone before. It's lived on my ankle, heel, wrist, finger, knee and is now busy evaporating off on my elbow where it has currently been residing so it can grow somewhere else. It has always slowly disappeared from one location as it starts growing on another.

Now here is the problem, it wants to move to my forehead. That little alien life form has picked my forehead as the perfect new home. I don't know a lot about being an old lady, but I do know old ladies don't want warts on their forehead. If I was twenty-two it wouldn't matter as much. People forgive a lot in a twenty-two year old, but at my age warts on the forehead, or anywhere on the face for that matter is a sign of, a sign of, well a sign of old age and witchyness.

Kids will start crying at the sight of me. Grandsons will pull away. People will point and talk behind my back. I mean people will point and talk behind my back more than they do now.

And silently the Enterprise continues it's silent persistent voyage. Can the Enterprise be destroyed?

Watching this intrepid wart move has reminded me of the quietness, the sureness, the slowness of nature. I relish watching a spider spin a web, a deer graze, a bear amble, a cat stalk, a tide come in or go out, a tree bud out in the spring. Slowly, confident in the rhythms of nature. How I admire that. How I love being a part of that -- warts and all.

Life isn't always wart free.