{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
more moments at Amanda's
rest
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” – John Lubbock
easy as pie
Dear Rhubarb, I don't think I appreciated you nearly enough as a child. Perhaps I took for granted that every backyard in the nation had a leafy patch of sour red stalks in the spring. Time and transience proved that wrong. It has been many years since a brown bag with neighbors' abundance appeared at the door. So should an early summer grocery trip turn up some fresh rhubarb we gather it up and make a memory pie.
My crust is never as good as Gram's, nor as good as Alannah's for that matter. The filling however was incredible and easy:
2c rhubarb
1c raspberries or strawberries
2T flour
1 beaten egg
1c sugar
Those are mixed together and poured into an unbaked pie shell. Then 1/2c brown sugar, 2T flour and 2T butter are mixed well and crumbled over the top. Into a 400 degree oven for 15min and then the heat down to 350 for 30min more.
Next time I will likely forego the crust entirely and make a crisp with a streusel topping like this one.
{this moment}
{this moment} ~ A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember.
more moments here
Late spring daybook of sorts
right now…
Seasonal rec league soccer just wrapped up.
I am between novels. Suggestions? Barbara's looked good. While talking with Rebecca she made a good pitch for Count of Monte Cristo . Hmmm
There is pie cooling.
There are breakfast burritos in the freezer. Aidan and his dad are working out before work in the mornings, which makes people hungry. Very early.
I am enjoying the peace of mind that can only come with owning a new vacuum cleaner. That peace of mind replaced the initial horror of emptying the canister the first time and realizing the old vacuum really REALLY wasn't working.
Talking to the landlord has netted some interesting history of our house. (the house we live in -which is his house actually) While the plumber was measuring for a new shower to replace the 60s era olive green one, the landlord was saying the house was built by 'Sir Henry Bombry of horse racing fame. You know Sir Henry,' he says. 'He was good friends with Mr Darby and they favored a flat race. They wagered over whether the flat course would be named after one or the other of them and the other guy won.' Now, truth be told I still get lost here and there and sometimes am not translating properly in my head. I heard 'Bombry' and 'DARbee'. After asking for spelling I realized that was Bunbury and DERBY, like Kentucky. Duh.
Ok, long story short I am still not sure which Bunbury built the house. The horse guy appears to have been Charles who did have a brother named Henry who was an illustrator but did not wager over horse races. The family owned much of the land locally – like miles of it. Our landlord's father was born in "the village" down the road. Me: there is a village down the road? yes, says he but you Americans might not recognize it as a village. (truly, you wouldn't, perhaps due to the absence of street lights, sidewalks, stores, or houses in close proximity…) He bought this house which he had eyed while growing up and our landlord was then born here.
And now I am here typing in the parlor. It is all very incredible really.
Moira-made bows. Big sisters rock!
Sunday drive
We took a little spin this afternoon and I thought I would share some snaps.
I do so love red geraniums and lace curtains. There appears to be a tiny German flag over the door. I am wondering if that explains? At any rate it made me happy and a little homesick for Germany.
"Fast food" has not caught on in Europe. There are some fast food chains in the big cities but everywhere else you sit and eat on real dishes. If it's "fast" then some of your food may have been premade or some containers may be disposable. By and large you will sit and eat. Then you will return your tray with your dishes and flatware. That is 'fast' food dining, as compared with served meals.
A common sight on Sundays. I am glad I was ready with my camera this time!
the dew of little things
"…in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed."
– Khalil Gibran
snap out of it
That's what I told myself the other day. I was pretty grumpy though and not for any one particular reason, but rather a series of reasons that by themselves would probably not have been all that impressive but together combined with the vomit I mentioned they had combined forces and made for a sour mood.
We had remarked to each other for weeks that we must firm up Memorial Day weekend plans. Come Thursday however those plans still had amoebic form. (and speaking of amoeba, the puking mentioned yesterday coincidentally began.) It wasn't like we didn't have a thousand and one things we could spend the long weekend catching up on, but right then I wasn't embracing the down time.
See, one downside to living in an awesome place, and knowing that you aren't going to live there forever, is this internal pressure to cram every spare moment SEEing something new. (even though you still need to do all those things at home that everyone needs to do) By all accounts we have made very good progress these past years. But when there are days off strung together like that it can feel like wasting opportunities.
It probably didn't help that by that time I was deeply entrenched in Farenheit 451. One son wrote a few weeks ago and said, "Mom, it's happening. I mean really just spend an hour on Facebook…" And before I was halfway through the book I came to the absolute, no-doubt-about-it, certainty that we.are.doomed. We as a species that is. For real.
That brings us to the weekend.
The thing about Mom being in a sour mood is that it spreads like wildfire. It seeped into the rest of them as invisibly and as infectiously as that stomach virus had done. So by mid-day, when everyone looked reasonably well, I started packing sandwiches and gathering water bottles. The enthusiasm was forced, but I was banking on the real thing kicking in once we hit the park.
That investment paid off. As did more long walks each day. It helped to finish the book too since it ends with some big thoughts on hope and humility and moving forward. My camera card is now full of silliness in the forest and my quote book is full of Bradbury's words (which I admit, I have been sorely tempted to make into placards and broadcast with evangelical zeal from street corners. But I won't. Probably. ; ))
This morning I woke up feeling sorted out.
"He stood breathing, and the more he breathed the land in, the more he was filled up with all the details of the land. He was not empty. There was more than enough here to fill him. There would always be more than enough." Farenheit 451
sunshine on a cloudy day
This girl is hard to pin down these days. She puts in extra hours at work whenever there is a special project or inspection or certification to be earned. She hits zumba class twice a week. On her long lunch hours she has been known to hit the grocery store for me. On the weekends she is my BBC buddy. Current fix? Call the Midwife.
I drove her car the other day. (Did I mention she is driving? On the left side? here?) It was tidy, smelled of fruity air freshener, and the station was playing country music. None of which can be said of my own vehicle but it was all perfectly "her."
This weekend I have been up to my elbows in vomit quite honestly. The little girls have been sick and the weather was pretty hit and miss for a holiday weekend. We had planned to travel but in the end we didn't get farther than the local park. That was just fine. It was a pocket of sunshine in more ways than one.
taking a dip
“We have such a brief opportunity to pass on to our children our love for this Earth, and to tell our stories. These are the moments when the world is made whole. In my children's memories, the adventures we've had together in nature will always exist.”
The children got a chance to meet with the biologists on base this month and help assess the health of the pond. This is determined, we discovered, by the variety of critters those nets pull up. The good word is that there were plenty – plenty of muddy, slimy, slippery critters dredged up by very enthusiastic budding biologists.
They learned that presence of too many of the itty bitty bloodworms would suggest the pond is low on oxygen and that he dragonfly nymph is apparently the equivalent of the lion in the jungle – king. Said critter obliged by demonstrating an impressive consumption of a teeny shrimp.
The bigs had to take a bye on this trip since it was dental appointment day for them.
Starry Sky Journal 