Spreading your Branches

The fall has come into its full color and I love it.  Yesterday, I went to Spencerville to photograph the scenery, especially the covered bridge and had a wonderful time looking around.  

This past week, I decided to finally name my photography business Batch Blues Photography. The problem I had was naming the business. Every name I thought of was already taken. One day at work I was entering information into the computer from some correspondence that we received and looked at the page and there it was, my epiphany, written in black and white. I studied the two words for a few minutes, Batch:Blues. I rolled it over and over in my mind, then I wrote the two words down. Immediately, I knew that was the name for my business. The process has been slow but I will be adding a Facebook page shortly. 

Lately all that I think about is getting the next shot and want to start sharing with you my pictures.  I still want to share recipes and stories as well, but really focus on my passion of photography. 

Sometimes we have to spread our branches and show the world our true colors.  

Traveller's between the eternities

This has been a hard week for me.  One of my cousins, who is just two years older than myself, passed away suddenly over the weekend.  The day after she was buried, my neighbor and friend met her Maker after a long struggle with an illness.  Whether it is expected or not, death is hard to deal with, at least, it is for me. The void the departed person leaves is impossible to fill. Death is final. Like the resounding pound of the gavel heard from the judges bench, we are sentenced to life, the remainder of it, apart. And yet, we must move on. I cried. Then selfishly I thought about my own demise.  

When you are past 50, the years behind you seem like a breath and the years ahead are as the wind. Before you know it they will be blowing upon you. Then, we, too, will drift into the one of the eternities. 

Creamy Green & Wax beans, with Red & Golden Potatoes Salad

It is harvest time here in Indiana and the fields are already turning a bright golden color. A friend and I went to a small city about 40 minutes south of where we live into Amish country. I love the drive, especially to breath in the country air. We saw a lot of farms and horses. 

The crops are coming in, especially green beans. We, also, have wax beans which are a light yellow in color. Yesterday, while at the Warsaw Street market one of the vendors had a bag of the green and wax beans together, which reminded me of a salad that I have been making for a long time.  If you don't have fresh you can use frozen or canned or both.  I don't believe that wax beans are frozen here in the states but green beans are.  

This is a simple recipe and I really enjoy the diversity of taste from the mixture of cumin and dill along with the creaminess of the mayonnaise. It is really good right after it is prepared. 

Ingredients:

1 cup green beans,  cut into 1 inch pieces,cooked and tender
1 cup of wax beans, cut into 1 inch pieces, cooked and tender
1/2 lb baby red potatoes, boiled with skin on,tender, cut lengthwise
1/2 lb baby gold potatoes, boiled with skin on, tender, cut lengthwise
1 tsp cumin
2 large pinches of dill
3/4 - 1 cup of mayonnaise, more or less to your desired wetness
1 tbs white vinegar
1/2 tsp sugar
pepper to taste

Cook the vegetables until tender. Set aside to cool. Once the vegetables are cool add to a medium mixing bowl. Next, add the dill, cumin, vinegar, mayonnaise, sugar, pepper, and toss.  This can be served chilled or lukewarm. Serve with baked chicken or fish and crispy bread.  Enjoy!

Southern Custard Pie

When I was a girl we used to get Southern Custard Pie made by Blue Bird Baking Company.  It was the best pie I have ever tasted. The company was founded in 1923 by Louis Preonas originally from Thessaly, Greece who came to the United States in 1911 and settled in Kalamazoo, Michigan.   He was apprenticed as a baker after completing the 4th grade.  After travelling around to several Midwestern cities, he settled in Dayton, Ohio. Their operation prospered and they opened a facility in Mitchell, Indiana. Sales increased and neighboring states were eating these wonderful pies as well. They made a lot of apple pies, but my favorite was the Southern Custard.  The custard was very thick and rich. I begged my mother frequently to bring one home.    

The picture came from Geocaching

In the 1970's the plant closed and we no longer were able to get Blue Bird pies.  It wasn't until I was older that I began looking for a pie that was identical to when I was a kid. Most of the pies that I found were either not the same consistency or the taste was not the same. But, now I think that I have found my copycat recipe. I wish that I had this recipe a long time ago and of course it is inspired by Paula Dean. 

Ingredients:

1/2 cup of whole milk
1- 12 oz can of condensed milk
4 eggs
1 cup of sugar
2 tbs vanilla extract or 1/2 tsp vanilla powder 
2 tbs butter, melted
2 tbs flour
1/4 tsp each nutmeg, allspice, mix together

Preheat oven to 350F. In a medium mixing bowl beat eggs for 2 minutes. Gradually add the sugar, flour, butter, milk, and vanilla. Bake pastry shell until it is slightly golden and puffy. About 2-5 minutes. Then pour mixture into pastry shell. I find that if you put the pie shell on a cookie pan and then pour the mixture while it is already in the oven there is less of a chance of spilling the mixture in your clean oven.  Bake for 45-60 minutes, until top is a light golden brown.  Sprinkle with nutmeg and allspice mixture. The pie will be puffy when it comes out of the oven but will settle down after it cools. I, also, put my pie in the fridge for a while before I serve it.  Enjoy! 

For the love of Cowboys

Photo courtesy of DreamWorks Studios

When I think about men, which is often, I think about those macho types who come to rescue a damsel in distress. My mind automatically goes to the Wild West. A cowboy walks into the saloon with his hat tilted forward on his brow, the ruggedly handsome face hidden by shadows. His footsteps are heavy as his boot spurs make a clunking sound with every step. There is no need for a words, because he has spoken volumes already with just his presence.  I know that not all men are rough and tough, sometimes I wish that they were.   

A friend of mine asked me to photograph her family members while at a reunion.  I gladly brought my camera and began shooting pictures.  About an hour later a man walked in.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw him.  I turned my head to get a better look at the man. A cowboy. My heart skipped a beat at the vision I saw.  Sitting on his head was a hat made of straw with a decorative band neatly placed above the brim. His Texas style button down shirt with rolled up sleeves worn with tight fitting jeans caused my mind to go back to the saloon I envisioned earlier. His boots, pointed toe and all, finished off his ensemble. 

"I need your picture," I bravely said. "You look great!" 

He asked if his picture would end up on Facebook or some place similar. "Most likely," I said.  Then we made our way outside. 

"Can you try to look macho for me please?" 

"Cowboys aren't macho anymore," he said.  I beg to differ with him. 

Enjoying Now

Last years rough winter made spring a most welcome visitor. And now we are on the cusp of another winter. I dread the confinement of the season. Peering at the world through the window from behind closed curtains.  

The gardens are now a withering version of what they were a couple of months ago.  Yesterday, I was chatting with a stranger about being present. We always tend to project our thoughts to the future or in the past.  But we are never here, never now. 

As we were exiting the elevator to start our work day the woman said, "Maybe there isn't that much to be happy about right now to keep our minds in the present."  

Then she said, "This is such a philosophical subject for such an early hour." I laughed. We wished each other good day.  The thing is, what she said is true. When we eat a delicious meal it is gobbled instead of savored with our palate.  Instead of enjoying each morsel that is placed into our mouth.  

We miss details in the busyiness of life. Like a colorful flower, beautiful beads on a dress, an intended smile. Things that are here, now, present seem to not be worth savoring, which they should, because they are our future memories. I want to practice being here in the moment and live like it was my last day on earth having permission to do nothing if I want to.  

Beef with Gnocchi in Tomato Sauce

I've never had gnocchi until a couple of weeks ago and I didn't know what I was missing.  What is Gnocchi? Pronounced nokey.  It is grated potatoes shaped into ovals and is an Italian invention.  It tastes like chewy pasta in a way. This dish is a balance between sweet and savory with a little kick.  I just love this dish and you will to. 

You have a choice with making this recipe.  A pressure cooker is the quickest (25 minutes) or you can slow cook the beef for about 2-2 1/2 hours.  I chose the pressure cooker. 

Ingredients:

1 1/5 - 2 lbs beef, cut into large cubes
salt/pepper to taste
2-3 tbs vegetable or olive oil
1 tbs butter or clarified butter
1 tsp paprika
1 tsp ginger, ground
1 tsp turmeric
1/2 tsp cayenne pepper or red chili pepper
2 tbs finely chopped Italian parsley
1 chicken bouillon cube  plus 1 cup of water or 1 cup chicken or vegetable broth 
1 large onion chopped
2-3 large garlic cloves, chopped
1 tbs tomato paste
1 tbs light brown sugar
2-14,5 oz cans of chopped tomatoes
2-3 inch cinnamon stick
1 lb gnocchi either fresh or boxed or you can add small pasta instead

Place your pot on medium to high heat.  Add the vegetable oil and butter. When the oil mixture is hot add the onions.  Saute for a couple of minutes and then add the garlic and parsley. Cook for 2-3 minutes and then add the beef chunks. Brown on all sides. 

Next, add the salt, pepper, paprika, ginger, turmeric, cayenne pepper, brown sugar, cinnamon stick, bouillon cube, tomato paste, water, and saute for a couple of minutes.  Then add the canned tomatoes and chicken stock, if you are using canned. 

Place the lid on the pressure cooker and cook on medium to high heat for 25 minutes or if you are using the slow cooking method,  place on low to medium heat and simmer for 2-2 1/2 hours, till the beef is tender.  

Once the beef is tender, add the gnocchi and simmer for about 3-5 minutes.  The sauce should be thick. Remove the cinnamon stick. Garnish with parsley and serve with a salad or sauteed greens and crusty bread.  Enjoy!    

Gourds of the Artistic Kind

I usually take a walk after my evening meal.  Once the kitchen is cleaned up I take a step outside and inhale the fresh air and enjoy nature.  I like to hear the birds sing and the bugs making their evening sounds.  Now that it is nearly autumn the daylight has slowly begun to fade like a shadow creeping up the hill. Those long days made me feel alive. Before long we will be confined to our homes while we wait for spring again.  

This evening I strolled down the street of a lovely neighborhood that adjoins mine.  The houses are quaintly decorated with well kept lawns.  I often admire those large houses and try to imagine myself living in one of them.  I put my camera in a backpack and headed down the street looking for something to photograph.  Last week I noticed a beautiful gourd in the front of an eclectically put together yard.  The gourd caught my eye.  

I put my backpack down on the brick wall and began pulling my camera out.  A lady that I hadn't noticed asked me if I was collecting something.

I told her that I intended on taking a picture of the gourd hanging in the tree. She was thrilled that I liked it enough to take a picture.  She invited me into her yard so that I could get a better shot. 

She asked if I would like to see more of them.  "Of course", I said. How could I say no?  Before I knew it the brick wall was lined with the most beautifully decorated gourds I have ever seen. Did you know that it takes about 18 months to dry one of these? I learned a lot talking to this lady. 

She hand paints them. They are inspired by Native American culture.  The top fits the bottom like a puzzle and is covered with animals. I asked her if she ever sold her works of art.  Sadly, she only gives them to family and friends. She told me that she invests at least 200 hours of work into each gourd. No one will be able to pay her what they are worth. 

By the way, I have a new Canon 60D.  Needless to say, I am so happy with the results.  Who knows what the future may hold for this wannabe photographer. 

The Grasshopper and a needing a new camera

I was cleaning out a flower bed the other day and I noticed a grasshopper watching me.  I like insects, bugs, and especially grasshoppers.  As quickly as I could, I ran into the house to get my camera, asking the grasshopper to please stay until I returned.  He did.  I'm sure that I looked like a one-eyed monster to this tiny creature as I crept up ever so slowly to get the perfect shot.  When I was done, I told him thank you and went inside.  Isn't he lovely?  

My camera has died.  And it did so while I was in the middle of a photo shoot yesterday.  It is time to bit the bullet and get a new one. I tried to see if it could be repaired, but it is very old and the manufacturer said that the model is no longer fixable.  The thing is I didn't want to do it right now.  Things are starting to look up for me with a new job and a raise and I didn't factor a camera into my immediate plans.  But, I cannot go without being able to take pictures. It is something that I absolutely love to do.  I don't mind standing on ladders to get the perfect shot or laying on the ground either. Things look differently now.  I look at the world and all it contains and see a picture, a beautiful picture in my mind. I want to capture the essence of it. I feel driven...I want to create an infinitesimal moment of beauty so that I can leave my mark in this world, even if it is a small one.

Grasshopper
grasshopper
all day long
we hear your scraping
summer song
like
rusty
fiddles
in
the
grass
as through
the meadow
path
we pass
such funny legs
such funny feet
and how we wonder
what you eat
maybe a single blink of dew
sipped from a clover leaf would do
then high in air
once more you spring
to fall in grass again
and sing.

Conrad Potter Aiken

Left-handed, well, not completely

Photo came from here

Did you know that about 10% of the population is left-handed? It is said that people who are left-handed are more creative, artsy, musical, perceptive, and genius. I really like the genius part. And I can believe that.  One has to be very creative in a right-handed world. I am a minority of a different kind and in ancient times we were looked down upon as inferior.   We’ve been called names like southpaw, whatever that means. At various times in history left-handedness was seen as a nasty habit, mark of the devil, a sign of neurosis, rebellion, and homosexuality.  This doesn’t sound very encouraging does it?

I never really thought much about being left handed.  But I’ve never been a complete one either. What do I mean by complete? Well, a complete lefty does everything with the hand opposite of their right.  You might say that I am dual handed.  There is a term for it, ambidextrous, and less than one percent of the population falls in this category. My father was this way too.  I must have inherited it from him. 

I have one memory as a child of having an issue with my leftyness.  During art class the teacher asked if anyone was left handed.  I quickly raised my hand and was given the “lefty” scissors.  I tried and tried to cut with them but to no avail;  it was then that I discovered when I cut things I use my right hand.  Before Kindergarten, I didn’t have much experience using scissors.  My mom was always paranoid that we would get hurt.  Therefore, we never had sharp objects around especially while playing.

I cannot sew with my left hand. If I tried to make a stitch with the left God only knows how bad it would be or where the needle would end up.  When I throw a ball the right hand is used doing that too.  I have no problems using a right-handed computer mouse or even a desk that lefty’s have such a hard time with. 

When I eat, I can use either hand depending on the cuisine.  When I eat North African or Middle Eastern food I use my right hand and the left for everything else.  Then there is the problem when a lefty goes out to dinner with friends.  I try to sit at the end of the table with my left arm on the outside so that I can move freely. There are religions/cultures that insist everyone try to be right handed.  When you eat it must with the right hand because the left hand is unclean and is used when you are doing not so nice things which make me cringe at the thought of those people who don’t use soap afterwards but water only. 

Here is where I draw the line, with writing. I am a total lefty. There is just no way of working around it. And believe me, I have tried.  I can write with my other hand and it can be read but it would take me forever and the words would be all over the page. 

I don't know whether I am right brain,left brain, or no brain. I just take life as it comes. 

To all the lefty’s out there in the world, Happy Left-Handers Day! Those of us who are ambidextrous, well, it is too hard to spell and not enough out there in the world to have our own special day.