Orchids and Journals of Anais Nin

This winter my orchid plant was dormant. A friend gave it to me last year,it was blooming and ever so lovely.  In the fall, the flowers dropped and all that was left were two green but barren sticks protruding from the ground.  I had contemplated throwing the plant away. Instead, I kept watering and feeding, thinking that maybe it is resting. Look at what has bloomed so unexpectedly!  I am thrilled. 

Don't you think that is how we are?  Sometimes we go for long periods of time without making any kind of progress, or so we think.  Then buds come out of those barren branches and our lives take a turn. Then we bloom like we have never before.  

I am currently reading Linotte, the first in a series of Anais Nin's journals.  She started writing in her notebook when she was 11 years old and had just arrived in the States. She knew from that age that she was meant to be a writer.  It was in her blood. She couldn't see herself working in any other career.  For a child, her writing was very good. She has a lot of witty sayings, of which, I have written in a small notebook that I carry every where. I am going to leave you with this:

I am a leaf that isn't on the right tree. I fly, I run, I search, but why keep looking on this tree when my happiness is hidden in another?

Ice Instruments: Music to chill by

This time of year can be miserable for those of us who dread winter. The lack of sunshine, bone chilling temperatures, and additional warm clothing can put out of good humor until spring. 

This week on NPR (National Public Radio), I heard a snippet of a story about ice instruments.  Norway put on a Ice Music Festival with instruments made completely of ice.  As I listened to what I could of the program, I was enamored with the possibility of making music out of something that seemed so unnatural. They called it the frozen sounds of winter. The thing about the whole process is the quality of the ice. Lakes produce the best ice and the man made variety will never do. Location can also be a problem as well. The temperature must be at zero (or below) or melting will occur, which could be disastrous for the instruments. I have to admit it was lovely to listen to. 

But why would someone want to sit outside in -15 degree temperatures to listen to music?  Can I buy the CD instead?

Photography, Books, Dreams, and Things

Not long ago, a man from FamilySearch.org met with a group that I am involved in about a project they want us to do for them (another visit tomorrow with the Big Whigs).  As you may or may not know, I am very interested in genealogy.  If I can do something to help others down their ancestral path, then I am all for it. Over the next couple of years, we will be involved with the folks from Utah to scan and upload information to their website plus it will also be transferred to an additional website so that people like you and me can research our family history for free. The book we are working on is well under way and should be completed this year too (we are crossing our fingers). There are only four more sections at the cemetery to photograph and then we will begin to put our complied information together.  I am very excited to be involved in such wonderful projects. 

Someone said to me over the weekend that we are chess pieces that are moved around for our greater good.  Things happen for a reason...This is when "Dreams become things". Dreams were never meant to stay in our heads but to become a reality.  I never dream't that my search, which started ever so many years ago, would take me to where I am now. 

When I was recently asked what was one of my major accomplishments was for my life,  I quickly piped up and said that becoming a DAR was something that I only dreamed of becoming in the last few years, which became a reality back in October.  I am going to keep dreaming. But more than that, I am going to make them come alive with good intentions and lots of determination. Prayer doesn't hurt either. 

Now, if I could just get to England for a visit then I would be extremely happy...

Aunt Aggie: 90 Years a Slave

Her mother was born free. She was snatched from her native land and brought to a place that was strange and the climate not to her liking. The ship docked in Virginia and all of the captives were unloaded like cattle to be sold. I don't know what year that was, but I read that it was before the Revolution.  

The Campbell's were rich and the government sold them a lot of land at a cheap price.  They needed help to develop the land.  Aggie was about 10 years old when she came to live with my 9th Great-Grandfather back in Virginia.when the Revolution began. The Campbell family lived in Virginia until 1796 and then made their way to Jefferson County, Tennessee with a land grant under their belt. Archibald Campbell died in 1801 and Aggie was passed on to James, Archibald's son.  When James passed away in 1826, Aggie went to live with Robert Fleming Campbell. In 1851, Robert and his family, with Aggie, moved to Dallas County, Texas. By this time, Aggie had children: Fay, Jim, and Archie.

Robert Fleming Campbell

Aunt Aggie witnessed another war. When the Civil War broke out her sons fought along side the rest of the soldiers for freedom. A freedom that they wanted more than life itself. Then came the Emancipation Proclamation.  She had been a slave for nearly 90 years.  She was finally free. Robert offered to care for her the rest of her life, but freedom was what they fought for. Just to taste it, like a forbidden fruit was all she wanted. Aggie's time wasn't long for this earth and she knew it. Along with Jake, her grandson, they left the farm to make their own way in the world. She is free at last...

I don't have that kind of mind

This past week, I had an "aha" moment.  I don't know about you, but I often wonder how people think.  Why they do the things that they do.

Relationships are hard. You don't have to marry someone from Africa to know that people are difficult to figure out, especially when it comes to the male/female relationship. Of all the bad things that happen in the world, I think that divorce is the worst. Nearly three years have gone by. Bewildered, I walked away not knowing what really happened. I often wondered what I could have done differently so that it would have lasted. I could blame his culture and religion along with it's followers, but what sense would that do? And I did do this for a long time. What was he thinking?  That is just it.  What was he thinking?  I have tried and tried to make sense of nonsense. I've spent too many hours pondering about things that are not meant for me to figure out. And yet, my mind kept going back to it. My focus went inward and I was in misery.

Art by Theophilis Smith

A friend of mine asked me how a murderer thinks? I was clueless. How would I know? I told her that I don't think like a murderer. My reasoning process is not the same. I cannot wrap my head around the concept of taking someone's life and it be okay or have no remorse for what I have done. I just don't have that kind of mind.  That's it!  I don't have that kind of mind.  I cannot understand because what happened would never occur to me to do to someone else.  I don't think that way. Afterwards, I felt a great sense of release. I have to unchain my mind from trying to make sense out of something that I don't have in me to do. It is not in my soul. In all honesty, it made me happy to finally see the light.  Everything passes, absolutely everything...sometimes it just isn't quick enough. 

Scottish Paisley Shawls

Picture from Pinterest
 

Just recently, I discovered the Paisley Shawl from Paisley, Strathclyde County, Scotland while watching an episode of  Who do you think  are. They were copied from the Kashmir by the Scottish weavers which was famous all over Asia. The original Kashmir shawl might take three people up to a year to make and therefore was very costly.  Beginning in 1800, the production of the famous shawls lasted for about 70 years and then the company went out of business.  The shawls were mass produced, which was then affordable to those who couldn't pay the high price of the original. 

Picture from Pinterest

"On her first trip to Scotland, Queen Victoria wore one of these handsome paisley shawls -- an act of royal courtesy, but one which enhanced the British textile trade and the wearing of paisley shawls. It has been told that the Scottish shawl gave a husband, badgered by his wife for an Indian cashmere one, the opportunity to say, "The paisley shawl is good enough for Queen Victoria. Certainly it is good enough for you."

Picture from Pinterest

In the early 1900's, the shawls became decorative pieces for pianos, table tops, vests, skirts, handbags, pillows, or wall hangings.  I have always loved the pattern and have several garments with the Kashmir or Paisley pattern on them.  But my favorite is a shawl that I have had for a long time made of light wool with red, green, blue, and black in the pattern.  You wouldn't think that it would keep you warm since it is so light, but amazingly it does.

Picture from Pinterest

As I began to search the internet I found lots of garments with the beautiful Paisley pattern.  Would you ever consider wearing something that isn't really "in" style at the time but you like it well enough to not care what others are wearing? I really like the coat above and wouldn't hesitate wearing it.  I don't know about you, but I think that clothing from the early 1900's was very classy and elegant.


Sources: The Paisley Shawl written by Edward Harrison and
 the Christian Science Monitor:
Antique Paisley Shawls can adorn a wall, complement country clothes.

Merry Christmas

Hoping that you all have a Merry Christmas and a Blessed New Year.

Memories of Christmas

When the nights are long and the air is cold a little jingle begins to play in the air. The snow begins to fly and we snuggle inside our homes for warmth.  It is then that my mind goes back in time to when life was innocent and the best time of year was Christmas.  There was a tree in the corner with gifts all around and the lights twinkled as they nestled in the branches.  The anticipation of gifts is all that a child thinks about, especially me.   

 

My parents were not big on celebrations and they definitely didn’t get excited like my brother, sister, and I did.  We always opened our gifts after supper on Christmas Eve and on Christmas day we had a big dinner.  The dinners were not the normal ham or whatever is supposed to be traditional for the holiday.  We would have BBQ ribs with whatever sounded good to Mom that day.  The rest of the holiday we lounged around and enjoyed having the day off. 

When my brother and I were about three feet tall, nothing really got past us.  If something was hidden in a low place we were definitely going to find it.  In the mid 60’s, when fire engine pedal cars were all the rage, we “found” our Christmas present in a hall closet.   For some reason Mom thought that if she buried the pedal car beneath some blankets we would not find it.  One day when my parents were still in bed, my brother and I decided to uncover the pedal car and take it for a spin.  We rode in it up and down the hallway.  Mom heard all of the noise and got up to find out what was going on.  “Hey Mom, look at what we found”, I said. She was not amused.  I really don’t remember what happened after that. More than likely she made us put it back in the closet until Christmas.

 

Observing all of those presents piled high all around the tree was so thrilling when I was a girl.  I remember that there was one particular present that I just had to know what it was.  Each night while no one was looking, I would pick up the package, shake it, and then put it back down.  Eventually, my fingers gently made their way to the taped edge.  Maybe the tape will give way without mom noticing that I have been picking at it.  The tape never budged and the more I toyed with it the worse it looked. Curiosity got the best of me and I poked a hole in the paper.  I brought the package up close to my eye and I still couldn’t figure out what the present was.  So, I buried it in the back and decided to wait until Christmas to see what it was; Besides Mom would be really mad if she saw the hole in the pretty paper. 

Dad bought Mom a food processor in the early 80’s, I was a 20 something year old then.  When Mom opened the box she was thrilled.  Dad and I then started pushing buttons while the machine was on.  Then it stopped running.  Dad and I laughed, but Mom cried.  He took it back to the store the next day to get Mom a new one.  The funny thing is I don’t remember her using it very much after that.  But I was in my 20’s then and probably didn’t pay attention to what she did.

I know that Christmas isn’t all about the giving and getting of presents.  I decided to bake a birthday cake for Jesus.   It was a white two layer cake with chocolate frosting. Jesus had to like this cake.  Who doesn’t like chocolate frosting? I asked my family to gather around the table and we sang happy birthday and blew out the candles.  Then we ate the cake for Jesus and told him how good it was.  When my nieces were small we carried on the tradition of baking a birthday cake at Christmas.  Tiffany and Heather still talk about it.

 

 

The year my father passed away we were so poor that we wouldn’t be able to give any gifts. My mother was collecting widow’s benefits and I was only making $3.50 an hour working at the 350 Shop on Broadway.  My church decided to adopt us as their “Christmas family”.  Each of us received a gift plus my family was given a food box.  My present was a turquoise sweater, which I kept for a very long time. I was very thankful for what the church did for us.   I felt as though people still cared for us during our time of loss. 

 

My oldest niece, Tiffany, wanted what she called a “Garbage Patch Doll”.  Scott’s grocery had a contest to be able to win one.  I wrote my mother’s name down and put the entry blank in the box.  I prayed and prayed to win that doll for my niece.  We wouldn’t be able to afford to buy her one for Christmas.  A few days later my mother received a call from the store saying that she had won.  Thank you God!  This was a Christmas miracle. 

Many Christmases have come and gone since then.  Gifts have been given.  Elaborate dinners have been eaten.  But the best part is when we get together and reminisce about “The good ole’ days”.   The pictures come out and the stories are told all over again.  To me, this is what Christmas is all about.  Family is what we are put on this earth for, to love and be loved, there is nothing more than valuable than this.

Refreshing Moroccan Salad with preserved lemon

This recipe is close to one that I have been making for years.  I was surprised that Morocco has a similar version.  I served this at Thanksgiving and it was well received.  

Ingredients:

2 Roma tomatoes, peeled and cut into small pieces
1 cucumber, seeds removed and cut into small pieces
1 green bell pepper, seeds removed and cut into small pieces
1 medium red onion, chopped
1 small chili (optional)
2 quarters of preserved lemon, rind only 
1-2 TBS white vinegar
2-3 TBS vegetable oil, olive oil, or sunflower oil
1/2 tsp cumin
1/2 tsp paprika
salt/pepper to taste
handful of black olives, pitted

Mix all of the ingredients in a small mixing bowl. Toss. Serve immediately.  Enjoy!

You can omit the preserved lemon if you don't have any on hand or you can go here to learn how to make them yourself.
  

Galette or Pear Tart

 I've had two colds in two months and haven't been sick for three years.  Sorry, that I haven't been on board here this last week.  Today, I felt well enough to cook something or starve.  Well, we all know that it would take a while, but, anyway I am excited about the galette that I cooked today.  It is super easy and I even made my own crust.

One of my co-workers gave me three quart jars of canned pears that her mother cans and then she brings them back from Alabama. I kept trying to think of a way to use the pears. One of my friends made a Galette out of apples that were about ready to go bad. My friend said that it was extremely easy to make.  So, I thought that I would give it a try. 



Standard pie crust: 

1/3 cup of shortening or 1/3 cup of lard
1 cup of all purpose flour
1/4 tsp salt
3 TBS cold water
1 beaten egg
sugar and cinnamon for sprinkling
canned pears, apples, or blueberries (fresh is best, but if you don't have it use the canned)

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees F. Put the flour and salt in a mixing bowl.  Add the shortening and rub the flour and shortening together with your fingertips until the mixture feels like sand.  Next, add the cold water one tablespoon at a time.  Mix with a fork until the mixture pulls away from the sides of the bowl.Form the pastry into a ball.  Place on a lightly floured work surface and roll out to the size of a dinner plate, cutting the dough to the size of the plate, the dough will be very thin.  Discard any leftover dough.

Oil the bottom of a baking pan. Place the dough in the pan and begin to fill the center of the pie crust with fruit, leaving about 2 inches or so around the edges so that you can fold the remaining dough edges around the fruit. Every couple of inches put a pleat in the pastry all the way around.  Brush with the beaten egg. Bake at 400 degrees F for 15 minutes, then turn down to 375 degrees F and bake for an additional 15-20 minutes. Sprinkle with sugar and cinnamon. Serve with ice cream or whipped cream or warm custard cream*.  Enjoy!

This serves about 4 people

Cooks note:  If you are using fresh fruit, you will need to add 1/4 cup of sugar or more if you like to the fruit. Put a pat of butter on top for extra flavor. 

*My neighbor served Bird's Custard sauce that was found in the English section at our local grocery store.