New Year Harvest

As the resolutions and dreams mound into a beginning today, it feels good to already have something accomplished. A harvest, and its only  the first day of the year! I went out to prune the raspberry canes (check) and stayed in my garden a bit longer to pick a few stalks of fennel. The new plants are already several inches high and bright green--it seemed a shame to leave the wilted and grey stalks of last summer among them. I only saved a few heads, because (in spite of its delicious aroma and endless cooking possibilities) I don't often use fennel in the kitchen. But every now and then it comes in handy (thinking of Lemony-Fennel Loaves from the Laurel's Kitchen Bread Book, and my sister-in-law's deep dish lasagna) so I snipped a few heads from the pile, brought them in and ended up with a few tablespoons of seeds.

Each Thursday morning I breathe deeply, tuck my hands under my arms to warm them, and wait. I started taking piano lessons when I was seven, and haven't stopped. My sister taught me for eight years, and the last two of those I also took lessons from my brother-in-law. My sister led me through my lesson books (good old Faber and Faber) and thoroughly into the world of classical, romantic and baroque music, and my brother-in-law taught me about chords, harmony and improvisation. A year (plus a few months) ago they moved to another state and I started taking lessons from the woman who taught my sister while she was in college. I was nervous, but felt comfortable quickly because hadn't I been taking lessons from her, through my sister, for several years?
This year, one Thursday at a time, I'm learning a new thing: performing. Seminar is only a group of students, our teacher, and the beautiful old Bluthner in Smith Recital Hall, but it is teaching me how to move past my nerves. It also gives me motivation to practice hard, and a chance to share in others' musical progress. I love to listen to them. But I am so human! After I play each week, I sit back down and let my mind wallow in criticism of my performance, or in jealousy of others' talent. It takes prayer and a heck of a mental effort for me to return my focus to healthy analysis and pleased listening. My goal is to do away with the pride, and the jealousy, and the self-consciousness, and just fall in love with the music. Maybe this will be the year.

We had Halloween

Another post without pictures, because I'm lazy and I don't know where the fancy camera is. Oh well, I don't know how to use it anyhow. It would have been nice to show you some of today, though! Carved pumpkins, autumnal decor (on a clean counter) and a fantastic harvest dinner. Here is what I did:

Let's call it "Acorns and Apples"

3 acorn squash

2 Tbs. olive oil

1 tsp. butter

3 garlic cloves

1/2 large yellow onion

3/4 Lb. Italian sausage

2 medium red apples

3 stalks celery

1 C. fresh plain bread crumbs

1/2 C. Parmesan cheese, plus more for sprinkling

6 slices fresh soft bread

Room temperature butter, to serve

Preheat the oven to 350 degrees. Slice the ends off the acorn squashes, then cut the squashes in half (perpendicular to the ridges) and scoop out the insides. Place them hollow side down in a large, lightly greased baking dish (rub a little oil on the bare ends if you like, to keep them from burning--it really does nothing besides keep them looking pretty, and you won't even see that side when serving). Bake for 40 minutes. Keep the oven on.

Heat the olive oil and butter in a large saute pan over medium heat. Meanwhile, finely chop the garlic and onion. Add these to the hot pan and stir to soften. Add the sausage and break it into small chunks. Dice the apples and celery, make bread crumbs if you need to (a hunk of bread popped into the blender for a minute does the trick), and grate the cheese. Add apples and celery to the saute pan and stir to soften. Turn heat to low and mix in the cheese and bread crumbs.

Turn the squashes so the hollow sides face up, and fill them with the sausage mixture. Grate a little more cheese over each one. Place the pan in the oven and bake for another 20 minutes.

Toast the slices of bread and butter them.

Serve the baked, stuffed, deliciously flavorful acorn squash halves with hot toast. Enough for 6.

I liked this meal because, well, so many reasons! Acorn squash cooked any way makes me happy, but it was good to take a break from the cinnamony dessert version. The comfort of an honest, simple baked stuffing is tangible. And a side of toast! Perfect. 

A blurb for gratitude

The day began with a cold grey sky. Only the eye of the sunrise--a great almond shape cut out of the cloud--was open to reveal dreamy blue, and flecks of gold. We started it right, with pumpkin pudding (a little too gingery, perhaps) and banana muffins. Me and Mama got school going, precariously reading, folding laundry and keeping G out of too much trouble. Elaina went to work on her still life, which is autumnal, smooth and (honestly!) beautiful. It may be my favorite of her paintings so far. Our morning walk was a rainy one, ranging from mist to pelts to a drizzle at tempo. Now that it is afternoon, there is only a foggy breath ensconcing the valley, and a thick comforter of clouds. There is no rain.
To say the least, I am glad that it is autumn. I'm glad that the school week was good, and that it is almost over! I'm glad for the (license-stimulated) chances to be with friends, whether praying together or cheering at a football game. I'm glad that Daddy will come home from a business trip tonight, and we will have a delicious family weekend. From grey sunrise to the people I love, I am glad!

Two Weekends

Last weekend was spent celebrating Mama's birthday at our favorite haunt--a quiet, rustic cabin tucked away in the shelter of the cascade foothills. We were so happy to relax there, just being together (and holding my peaceful, newborn nephew!), enjoying the river sounds and the clean mountain air. Me and Daddy even found time to go on a wonderful run up and (painfully) back down the mountain at our doorstep. We were so enthralled with the scenery on top of the ridge that, the next day, we took G up  there to explore, this time in our car. We found a beautiful glacier lake that was cold and blue and perfect for skipping rocks across.
Just as we were happy to hide away at the cabin last weekend, we are happy to be home now. I finished my second school week, plummeting from the heights of scholarly excitement to the plateau of a high-schooler catching up after Labor Day. I had to transfer one book (a very good book by Don Richardson) from my "school reading" list to my "to be read whenever I have spare time" list, which means that it will take an eternity to get through.  I groaned and vowed I would never take another holiday, if it meant so many extra hours of reading. But I'm sure I will. However, I hope that next time I'll catch up a little faster. For now, a good Sunday at home-ish. Which means lots of time writing, being in nature, and reading some Don Richardson!

Back to School (and a few good books)

My school-days begin with these:

And end here:

But between the running shoes and the bedside table are about fifteen hours of wonder. Honestly, it's exhausting. I have rediscovered that tiredness that comes from real labor (whether mental or physical) and consequently can enjoy the deliciousness of falling quickly to sleep each night, tired and satisfied with the day. The wonder is well worth the exhaustion: my school curriculum is a treasure trove of excellent literature that helps my roots to grow deeper and my fingertips to reach up among the stars. The Human Body: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made, by Dr. Jay L. Wile and Marilyn M. Shannon, M.A., is a perfect fit for this final year of high school, since I have always been excited about health and fitness, and plan on studying exercise science next year. I'm hoping to develop a solid foundation of knowledge in anatomy and physiology throughout the next few months, at least enough to prepare me somewhat for the college level courses to come. I am working through three government/politics works: The Complete Idiots Guide to U.S. Government & Politics (Franco Scardino), God and Politics (edited by Gary Scott Smith) and Basic American Government by Clarence B. Carson. I used to dread any politically-oriented discussion or article that popped up because I didn't understand them. I still don't understand them, but I am now on the way to understanding, and enjoying the journey. I'm also reading William Zinsser's On Writing Well, 100 Best-Loved Poems, edited by Philip Smith, The Elements of Style (William Strunk JR. and E.B. White) and (my personal favorite) Mortimer J. Adler and Charles Van Doren's How to Read a Book. I've always enjoyed reading, but that last has broadened my perspective considerably on the topic of reading, and over the past week I have already discovered some great tips on reading effectively.
I wasn't ready for school to start this year. But I am ever so glad that it has! If you need a good read, please consider one of the seven that I've mentioned--they really are good.

From Asparagus to Artichoke

The spring that went past at race pace is now over, and the raspberries are already in full swing. We enjoyed several happy weeks of fresh, crisp asparagus, served boiled with poached eggs or sauteed with garden vegetables.

Then Easter came, and I had to share this bit of the many precious moments from the day.

The artichokes were better this year than ever before, and I had loads of fun tucking them, caramelized, into toasted cheese sandwiches, pureed and folded into souffles and creme brulee, and classically boiled with lemon-butter sauce and plenty of pepper.

Ladybird took this glowing photo of a spiced apple German pancake that we made one Saturday morning, a few months ago.

Now the garden is quietly sucking up the water and nurture that Bethany and I are pouring into it, and we're anticipating lots of corn and a variety of squashes and melons soon. I can't wait for the new cooking adventures they will bring! So far it seems as if all I do is garden and cook, which is close to true. But I've also spent a lot of time running through the countryside before sunrise with Daddy, dandering in the woods with Gavin (he's so delighted to go outside at any time!) practicing piano and finding ways to keep inspired with it, and delving into books from science to gardening to Jurassic Park.

I spent the week before last in Rockaway with my youth group, helping to lead a sports/Bible camp for Pre-K through 6th-graders, and also a youth group for the teens there (which were few). It was an exhausting week, but far more fun and rewarding than I ever anticipated. I had no idea that watching kids, keeping them safe, entertained and teaching them, could be such a struggle. But when we were the weakest, we could see and feel God acting most visibly. It was beautiful to see, and so exciting to be a part of!

Now I'm home and more summer stretches out peacefully in front of me, with the promise of good times with family and friends, and next month, blackberries!

After a pause

The months since my winter feast have been good. A fair amount of cooking, a more-than-fair-but-still-not-enough amount of gardening, and not-nearly-fair-enough amount of reading have thrived in my spare moments, which are growing longer as the school year winds down. Three more weeks to go!
I took my first SAT two Saturdays ago and feel fairly confident about it. I'm dreading the next one, which will be the week after I finish school. But I'm working through a math preparation book which should help me with the most difficult parts. I'm slowly learning not to stress about it--I may not be the brightest math student, but I know how to study and will do what it takes to pass reasonably. Then I will read a good book and lose myself in the vegetable patch, forgetting about tests and school and delving into summer.
This has been a wonderful school year, really. I have loved my worldview/history course, and geometry wasn't half bad. Spanish in little bites is exciting too. And my favorites have, of course, been piano and "PE" (what we call my passion for exercise, especially running). I haven't run very much lately, which I think is because I know that next week I will start training for the half-marathon at Crater Lake in August. I want to start up with plenty of excitement and vigor.
Spring is going by at race pace and I wish I could catch it and just admire for a few extra minutes. Every bit of time I can I will spend cherishing it.

The Winter Feast

I've been planning this meal for months. I poured over my special cookbook (a Christmas present from Mama and Daddy), trying to decide which mouth-watering dishes to prepare for my Early-, then Mid-, then Late-Winter Feast. Each weekend pushed the event further out and I was beginning to wonder if spring would arrive before I ever got around to it. But then today came, and it was perfect. I decided to make 

 L'AMI JEAN'S Parmesan Soup, and

 Oxtail-Macaroni Gratin (minus the oxtail, because, for those of us who don't live in small French towns with butchers for neighbours, fancy meat is hard to come by),

 and for dessert, little Sarah Bernhardt Cakes.

Thank you for the fabulous Christmas gift, Mamo and Daddo :-)

Monday night cocoas for Mama and me.

The Good Days of February

Rain is slip-sliding in torrents down the windows. Lightning colors the air violet and for just a moment the silver drops can be seen racing toward the ground. A few seconds later, great rumblings pour past us. Gavin says: "Dong Dong not like thunder. Aguess, thunder loud and skiki. Aguess, Dong Dong stay way by thunder." Then he wraps his arms around my neck and adds "Mana make Dong Dong happy." Ahhh, moments like this! The best of a winter evening.
Daddy is popping pop corn, drizzling butter over the kernels, scooping and shaking the crackling whiteness and salting it. Ahhh, moments like this! The best of a winter evening.
Mama is putting Gavin to bed. Then she will join us down here. Books, popcorn, the black rainy night making the kitchen-living room a place of warm goldenness. Ahhh, moments like this! The best of a winter evening.

A Cider Loaf for a Rainy Saturday

Early this morning, while Ladybird dressed and collected a bag of hair and make-up accessories (she seems to be the official hair and make-up girl for church weddings nowadays) I laid in bed dozing, enjoying the gentle glow of the starry Christmas lights still looped around the room, and planning my day. First on my list: make Nigel Slater's Cider Loaf. 

For my 14th birthday, Autumn Rain gave me a wonderful recipe treasury by Nigel Slater, complete with stunning photography and quaint, humorous kitchen notes that make me want to eat seafood, raw tomatoes and alcohol (all of which I have never liked). The problem with being a foodie is that things you don't like, when described very well and accompanied by a beautiful picture, can seem far too appealing. Then when you cook with them, the results are a painful disappointment. But that's a story for another day. The Cider Loaf was a success (in spite of the alcohol, which only showed up as a piquant tart flavor) and we topped it with sweet, crunchy chicken salad to make a perfect Saturday lunch.

The flames are lithe and silken, fanning from clean orange ribbons into soft, translucent wraiths in swift, curling gold. It is a miracle: that mountain dance of rich, pure colors sprouting from hot white ash, heart-beat coals and silent black chunks of oak. And its all tucked away, almost as if it were insignificant and normal, inside the tidy stove with its clean glass window, arched, crossing bars and cast-iron kettle breathing warm moisture into the air. But I know it isn't: Mama keeps glancing at it too--sometimes her knitting goes completely unnoticed for a few moments while she watches the sprite-dance inside the stove. And Chesterton is lying on the floor nearby, not even bothering to sleep on  the rug (anything to be closer to that gold licking firelight). But Daddy remains oblivious, I think, to the magic. For now.
Thursday night almost feels like the beginning of the weekend. That's a pretty good deal, when I realize that I then have only three full school days. Of course, it's not really that way... but it's a good perspective. Agatha Christie's life is almost laid bare, I have a treasure trove of things to work on during the next week of piano practice, Spanish will have a new beginning soon, and a new chapter of geometry is about to start. And it's all oh, so good. Sometimes I don't think like that--I am actually fully capable of feeling tired and worried--but right now, having worked a thorough, happy day and now relaxing with a merry fire and Following the Moon (a favorite baroque album) I can say it with a pure heart: life is good.
There is something unique and precious about this November. Maybe some snatch of firelight, kiss of cold air or shawl of rustling tawny leaves has lent me special joy. But I am more prone to think that it is, in fact, my appreciation for these things that has changed my attitude. After all, what is a glorious sunset if you aren't thankful for it? Just a sunset. I think it takes gratitude for it to be glorious.

Of a Saturday

Ladybird and Moonchild are about to have a regular brinner-feast. She is getting Gavin ready for bed now, and I have just finished a bit of washing up. When he's sound asleep, and the acorn squash is out of the oven, we will toast some bread and cheese, fry some sausages, brew a pot of tea and settle down to a long and satisfying brinner. After that comes miniature chocolate pudding tarts and gingerbread bundt cakes. After all, it's not every Saturday that Mama and Daddy head off on an anniversary date!

Little Things

It is golden, here on the hilltop,

Watching the sun-sweet day

Of the valley age in a splendor

Of fading loveliness--filled with

Smooth earth, crinkled leaves, twisted hay.

Rajah and Czar are looking too,

Both as alert to the tiny signs

Of a mouse chase as I am

To the beauty of an October evening,

 To the balm of apricot-scented wind and sticky pines.

The light over the friendly valley

Is so gentle, breathing its soft words

Over rooted mountains and straight,

Slim grasses erect in taught comfort,

Slipping small bright seeds to the birds.

The moon, coyly glowing her silver

Smile, rises in the dim, intricate

Coolness of the muscled oak boughs,

She is an evening soul in palest crepe.

Perfect before violet skies, still lit.

F. M. G.

Midweek with rosemary and garlic

I was finished with school at the great and alarming hour of 5:00, and I was ready to put my sparing creative juices to work. After a bit of messing with the piano and keyboard (I was toying with rhythms to incorporate into a piano lesson  tomorrow) it was time to begin the preparation of a long-awaited dinner production (something I had at Olive Garden a while back and haven't been able to forget). My plans were Baked Rosemary-Garlic Chicken, Cheese and Herb Potato Fans, and a garden salad. To my taste, the results were a bit too salty and "green with their coats of dried herbs", but Mama and Ladybird approved, so it must just be me.
Four baking potatoes were briskly scrubbed and thinly sliced, each one maintaining a thin spine of uncut fiber so the potato remained whole. I splayed the little layers as well as I could and drowned them in melted butter, salt and pepper. After about 45 minutes of moderate baking they were sprinkled with a handful of grated Parmesan, Cheddar, and Italian herbs. As soon as the cheese melted they were ready.
The chicken was more fun: Four whole breasts rubbed with salt and pepper, tucked into a dear old glass dish. They were drizzled with white wine vinegar and olive oil, and a scattering of whole garlic cloves was allowed to caramelize on top. Dried rosemary, fennel and thyme provided their "green coats". This baked at 450 for longer than expected (between 30 and 40 minutes, I think). My salad was a lively and simple affair of fresh lettuce, cucumber, purple onion and an exciting cilantro dressing.
We were all quite full after our warm, candle-lit meal, but couldn't resist a bit of dark chocolate to end it. I chose a chunk of frozen, home-made deliciousness studded with hazelnuts. And (with painful generosity) shared it with Gavin. Then me and Ladybird did the washing up and went out for a short walk. I hope I'm not the only one around here who has noticed the striking young moon tonight--it is slim and elegant, and cosseted by gentle, mysterious ash-colored clouds.
I'm still enjoying the "new" school year. Ladybird is finally beginning her second year of college, and it seems impossible that her summer break could really have been that long; but it was. So it's quiet around here, with me, Mama and Gavin puttering happily through our simple days (though we do tend to wear thin at the end of the afternoon, when he gets tired and hungry). I started my first research project of the year yesterday, and I'm surprisingly intrigued with the concept. I've chosen to write about Agatha Christie--maybe I'll gain some inspiration, or at least a little peak into the genius behind Murder on the Orient Express.

French bread and cheese

We had a wonderful last weekend of summer. Friday was spent at the Woodburn Outlets doing some back to school and birthday shopping, including a bit of chocolate with caramel and macadamia nuts in the late afternoon, and we met Daddy for dinner at a Mexican place in the outlets. It was a happy end-of-the-work-week reunion, and we were satisfied with our purchases. On Saturday we celebrated Ladybird's birthday with a family breakfast and a relaxing morning. In the afternoon I had a picnic in the woods with the birthday girl, during which we read a good bit of The Fellowship of the Ring and dubbed a squirrel "Sophie" after it's sound-alike, a squeaky plastic giraffe of Gavin's. The evening was a real celebration: creamy enchiladas with mango salsa, a friend over to help us enjoy it, a happy mound of presents, and Almond-poppyseed cake with chocolate vanilla tea. The three of us girls disappeared upstairs soon afterwards for a movie and some hair and make-up experimentation.

Yesterday started early--the 10-mile run to church with Daddy was first starry and dark (with a sliver of golden moon), and then ghostly grey with creamy-peach blushes on the horizon, and finally coolly spread with mellow, orange light of morning as we crested the last hill before town. Church was nice (after a quick, hot shower) and then we were home again (don't worry, we drove back!) to eat sausage-corn casserole, salad and slices of leftover birthday cake. I had a quiet afternoon of reading and being with family, and another workout with Daddy (push-ups this time). Before I left for youth group we shared fresh bread of Mama's making, bright, sweet grapes and pieces of cheddar and garlic white cheese--it was wonderful.

And now Monday. I'm busier, but still delighting in life. There is truly something to learn in each moment during the school week!

Spending Time

The "living at home" portion of our family spent Labor Day weekend at our favorite haunt for vacationing, a quiet, snug cabin about an hour Northeast of home, where the air is filled with pine scents and the freshness of the river. Craggy rocks add character and immense beauty to the softly dark green mountains--I like to admire them from the vantage of the porch swing just on the other side of Opal Creek, with a big mug of a spicy, hot tea (mountain mornings do tend to be chilly). We had a rich, chocolatey ganache cake both evenings after our special Trader Joe's dinners, while we watched Little Dorrit (Friday night) and The Croods (Saturday). Me and Ladybird worked up hearty appetites swimming in the icy cold, crystal green water and going on inspirational hikes in the rain and dew-glinting sunshine, and spent a bit of our time reading Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (we're making not very much headway in the series, although we both love them). I also got to go on a wonderfully stormy, 9-mile run with Daddy, read my own fun book, The Eagle of the Ninth, and play Ticket to Ride with Ladybird. Mama may not have had as relaxing a vacation as I: Gavin woke up at 4:30 on Sunday morning and could not be convinced to go back to bed. We finished our trip with Sunday dinner at Olive Garden on the way home (I thoroughly enjoyed my Garlic Rosemary Chicken and mashed potatoes, and am now determined to recreate the delicious concoction, with a valiant attempt at those garlic cloves, chewy, whole and caramely sweet). And then Daddy had to drive all the way back to the cabin to fetch his laptop, forgotten on the antique stove in the corner of the kitchen.
I spent my real Labor Day catching up on school reading, which was actually very pleasant, putting my room to rights, watching Doctor Who with Ladybird, doing push-ups with Daddy, running for an hour along my home roads... it was good. And in the afternoon, when everything else was happily accomplished, I slipped off into the woods, found a resting place, and lay there letting time slide by while I watched birds and dancing fir boughs, felt wind and fir needles wafting around me, and thought contentedly about life and health and beauty.
P.S. Happy September!

Up and Running

It seems a little early to start back to school, but I'm doing it, and it's not bad. Especially because my strategy this year is considerably less rigorous than in past school years: I'm going to grow and enjoy. That's it. No up at five, run in the dark, work till I drop schedule for me this year, just a simple succession of good days. Work days, true, but good days with lots of sleep, lots of running in the fresh air, plenty of geometry and music, Spanish, philosophy and writing, and hopefully a bit of spare time to devote to cooking and scrap-booking, gardening and bird-watching. There's no reason for summer to be over because I'm starting up another school year; it has just become even more full and beautiful!
P.S. I know it's not always that easy--I just happen to have a delightful junior-year curriculum and am very pleased with the prospect!

Goodbying

Funny how words work: I thought of the title "goodbying" to write about Lavender Girl heading off on her grand adventure, thinking "Autumn Rain might have written something like this before", only to find that Mama titled a goodbye album the same way. I suppose it makes sense that we both use Mama's words--she taught us to talk!
Our big family is spreading out even more now. With Lavender Girl, Cassio and Lulu on their way to build a life in Colorado we have shrunk to a house for five: just Mama, Daddy, Ladybird, Gavin and I. And Autumn Rain is home for a visit; impeccable timing.
The house is a little sad and quiet, but we will get used to it. For now we need to eat German Chocolate Cake (the leftovers from Daddy's birthday celebration yesterday) to cheer us up.