Saturday Morning Notes: Books, Creativity, and More. . .

Old photo! Haven't used this exact one before, though.

I mentioned the book Goat Song by Brad Kessler in my Monday daybook. I am reading through it again and enjoying it possibly even more than last time. On Monday, wondering what is it about a particular book that resonates with a particular soul, I wrote this: “You know how the style of certain authors on certain topics ‘clicks’ with you? That was [Goat Song] with me.”

And just this morning, I ran across words that echoed mine, written by Kessler himself in Goat Song: “A book is like a key that fits the tumbler of the soul. The two parts have to match in order for each to unlock. Then—click—a world opens.”

Nice.

The author’s descriptions of his life with goats and the contemplative art of cheese-making has relit a fire under me to get hold of raw goat’s milk and begin, again, to make goat cheese, only this time I’m not only going to make farmer cheese, but I’m going to make chevre. And I am excited to get started! It won’t be professionally done with the aid of a cheese shed (a “make room”) that has developed an environment abounding with the right cultures for this kind of cheese, as well as all of the equipment for making great cheese (though maybe this is unnecessary—I’m an utter novice, so what do I know?!).

Kessler’s rhapsodic reveries over the taste of his homemade cheese reminded me of something I saw a few years ago but didn’t pay more than immediate attention to because I didn’t really know much about him then. Gourmet magazine’s website has a series that I like (I don’t know if they still do this, but they should). Various famous people share their “Day on a Plate”—everything they ate in 24 hours. (Isn’t that a fun idea?!) And Kesslershared his. I read it, I liked it, and I stayed at the computer and wrote my own. My food for the day wasn’t as exotic as Brad Kessler and his wife’s (great cheese, great artisanal bread, great wine), but it was still fun to write my own little food log, prudishly nutritious as my eating was that day. I did break free from nutritional strictness by eating delicious dark chocolate, although, in the back of my mind, I know it is full of beneficial antioxidants (but I try not to think about such things when I eat).

Another book that has me gripped is, believe it or not, Wild Fermentation by Sandor Ellix Katz. I was already really interested in learning more about cultured and fermented foods (these processes make the nutrition in foods far more bioavailable than in their normally eaten state), so this book would have been interesting even if it hadn’t been so nicely and engagingly written. The ideas in the book are streamlined, straightforward, and simply put. I’ve read a large number of books and articles about sourdough starters, but nowhere is it made so simple and straightforward as here. And being one who prefers to keep everything as massively simple as I can, I love this! I will be trying many recipes in this book. I’ll be pickling and fermenting everything in sight, making kombucha and sauerkraut and kefir and yogurt, as well as a number of previously unknown-to-me fermented foods. I’ll keep you posted.

Why, I don’t know, but I’ve been looking over some books on creativity. One is a book that I’ve had for years and love. You might know it. It’s called The Creative Habit by venerable Broadway and movie choreographer Twyla Tharp. In a nutshell, her key to creativity is to show up. Just show up. Day after day after day, no matter how you feel. When you are hit hard with troubles and trials or ennui or lack of motivation or inspiration, show up anyway. Just going through the ritual of getting yourself where you need to be is the biggest step. Step into the Jordan and it opens up. So, it comes down to making a habit of showing up. Rituals and routines are powerful. They jumpstart us and get the ball rolling, and once it’s rolling the battle is way more than half over. Twyla has many other tips, too, most of them down-to-earth, real, and practical. She speaks my language.

Another book on creativity is one I bought at Borders on the clearance shelves. (60% off the latest clearance price = some almost free books! Relatively speaking. I did get Marilynne Robinson’s Home for $1, so we’re talking literally close to free. Again, relatively speaking.) I only bought Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way because I remember, long, long ago, reading about it on the Pleasantview Schoolhouse blog. Anna added it to her short list of most influential books. It’s the one that lit a creative fire under her, I believe. Loving Anna’s blog and being amazed by her creative productivity, I wanted to have a good look at the book. This one takes a more spiritual tack than Twyla Tharp’s. It’s about battling your psychic obstacles to creative productivity so that you can get in there and just do it already!

Added later. . . I perused The Artist’s Way in the wee hours of this morning when I was wide awake but it was too early to be up and about. One chapter captured my attention, so I read the whole thing. And I have to say that I think I am going to really like this book. I wondered if it would be a bit too esoteric and not enough “feet on the ground” to suit me, but, no, it addresses the heart and the head and also challenges you to put your feet to the ground and get going. Now.

Some of what Cameron writes overlapped with what I remember about The Creative Habit:

“Creativity requires activity, and this is not good news to most of us. It makes us responsible, and we tend to hate that. You mean I have to do something to feel better?

“Yes. And most of us hate to do something when we can obsess about something else instead. One of our favorite things to do—instead of our art—is to contemplate the odds.”

“Most of the time, the next right thing is something small: washing out your paintbrushes, stopping by the art-supply store and getting your clay, checking the local paper for a list of acting classes. . .”

In other words, do the next thing, which is often small and manageable if we will just focus on that thing. We should all be living creative lives. Creativity is a gift implicit in being made in the image of God. It takes an artist’s flair to make a creative life out of what is ordinary to all of us, but I think we’ve all been given a unique eye for making the most mundane parts of life a thing of beauty. Rather than slogging along in the drudge of things, we should look to find and create beauty in all we do. If Brother Lawrence could do it joyfully with his monastery kitchen work, why can’t I?

But life is not lived only in the kitchen, is it? We have ample (endless!) opportunities for developing our (too often latent) creative gifts and inclinations. And creativity is not just about paint brushes or movie making or novel-writing. It’s a way to live.

Anyway (see how I wander so easily off my intended path?!). The Artist’s Way seems realistic, insightful, and helpful. No wonder Anna liked it.

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I follow home anyone who comes by my blog and makes a comment. I saunter through your blogs and enjoy reading your thoughts and stories. And I have to say that again and again I am impressed. Impressed by your creativity and intelligence and your beautiful lives, and I’m always struck by the same thing: “Why are such smart, creative, talented people reading my blog?!”

One of the bloggers I trailed home showed up when I had a massive, temporary, flurry of visitors that came over because of a link put up on another blog. I enjoyed reading Monica's words and having a look at her Hawaiian life and watching her young boys practice their parkour and movie making skills. Fun! Monica is fit and knows her workout stuff. Having been an athlete myself and still careful to maintain a decent level of fitness, I’m pretty attuned to what is a good workout and what is not, what works a certain muscle or muscle group well and what doesn’t, what is effective and what isn’t (at least for me). I’m no expert, but I’m intuitive about these things. Yet in the past two years, I’ve developed a fitness Achilles heel. My core. I’ve always been naturally strong, but since I left my country home and all of the hard daily work I did there, my core has weakened. I’ve tried adding a series of ab and core exercises, but I can’t stick with them because they tend to make my back hurt, and none of them seem to really do more than skim the surface. Since I don’t want to do a full-on workout because, as always, I like to keep things simple, I won’t go to a gym and I’m not willing to undertake a serious regimen.

Enter Monica. I love what she has developed for an "ab workout." I just love it! It couldn’t be easier or more straightforward, and having done her exercise here and there throughout the past two days, I really do think this is going to make a difference! I’ll keep doing this for sure, and I’ll let you know how it goes long-term.

And one more thing. A beauty tip. (Haha--that’s about the last thing I ever thought I’d be doing here.) But this is not so much a beauty tip as it is a natural way to care for your skin. I mentioned the use of coconut water to soothe red, scratchy eyes, and now I’m letting you know that it seems to be a great facial toner, too. When I was looking for all-natural eye-drops, I ran across some information about using coconut water as a skin toner. Well, this is certainly cheaper than the “all-natural” toner I’m using now, and it’s even more all-natural, so why not give it a try? And, after a few days use, I think that it not only works but that it has improved the condition of my skin, and I tend to have soft, clear skin already. This is not a long-term testimonial, so I reserve the right to retract my endorsement, but coconut water seems to be a great all-purpose beauty product—for inner and outer use!

Soon I will be a walking advertisement for the coconut. I use coconut oil for skin lotion, coconut water as eye-drops and facial toner, coconut water in my fruit smoothies, and coconut milk in many of my recipes.

Enjoy your Saturday. I hope it’s as sunny (and mild) as mine.

A Jam-Packed Monday Morning Daybook. . .

This is the picture-thought I am sharing with you.

Saturday scones. I left out 1/2c. flour, so they were

flat, but they were also quite delicious!

Outside My Window. . .

The grey sky brightens (barely, slowly, perceptibly). Soon there will be sun. Another day in the upper 80’s is forecast for today; this has consistently been our temperature of late. The air is just cool enough that it feels nice with the windows open in the morning. A light breeze gently flutters leaves on the trees in my back yard, where falling apples increase their daily pace. The morning ground is often littered with apples—most of them not of eating quality—and I pick them up and discard them. I’ve brought one or two inside to eat, and they’re pretty good. 

I am Hearing. . . 

As always, the hum of the refrigerator, but today it seems more earnest than usual. (Is something wrong?) Soft, lovely strains of Alina barely making it round the corner from the living room. 

The Books That Were Stacked Beside My Bed Last Night. . . 

Music of Silence by David Steindl-Rast. I read this book about once a year (or so). I bought it in 2006 on the recommendation of sweet Ann of the too-long-quiet Mozart and Mudpies blog. I miss Ann’s gentle voice. She inspired me. 

Goat Song by Brad Kessler. I loved reading this book. It is simple, poetic, and lovely, but quite likely not for everyone, particularly those who cannot imagine enjoying the unflinching reality of goat breeding and birthing, milking, and cheese-making as poetry (the author still might convince you!). I found the book a year or two ago on the clearance table at Borders. I opened it to a random page, and was struck by the writing—the descriptions of nature and bundling up against the cold, as well as the contemplative nature of the narrative. You know how the style of certain authors on certain topics “clicks” with you? That was this with me. 

The Journals of Father Alexander Schmemann. This book is almost always at hand. I read it for his spiritual and cultural insights, plus his love for family, nature, and the ordinary. Schmemann was very real and down-to-earth and could see straight through spiritual silliness. 

Apples for Jam by Tessa Kiros. It’s a sweet cook book to browse and read (and I do love a readable cookbook!). I love this one for her opening essay about family, memories, and food. 

Cooking at Home by Susan Hermann Loomis. This one made my pile last night because I recently read a quote about eating together (families and friends) by Loomis in one of my notebooks, and I wondered if I copied it from this book. Nope. 

Radical Homemakers by Shannon Hayes. Because it’s intriguing. I like this secular look at the beauties, sacrifices, hard work, and joys of domesticity.

The Architecture of Happiness by Alain de Botton. I love the writing. I love the insights. I love reading about the aspects of architecture that are dealt with in this book.

My Bible. I should finish this round of Old Testament reading tomorrow or Wednesday morning, and it’s almost sad. Why are endings so often poignant to me, even when they shouldn’t be? I am a silly woman. I’ll just start back in Genesis and read through again. . .

A yellow file folder of articles and posts. Mine and others’. 

I am Thankful. . . 

That I am well. That there is plenty of fresh fruit in my kitchen. And vegetables. And chocolate. That I got to spend one long, lovely day with part of my family on Saturday. That my relationship with my children, and theirs with each other, is sweet.

Somehow this is the only picture I got of my lovely daughter.

It's nice to have my kids lounging on the furniture!

I am Wearing. . . 

I didn’t mean to, but this morning I broke free of my “morning uniform” rut. My hair is still messy, and my feet are still bare, but I am wearing light-colored cropped khaki hiking pants, a white tank top, a light-blousy pink top over it, and new reading glasses. I love these glasses, but wish I had not gotten clear/white frames (I see this color around and like it, but not so much with these glasses, and not so much on me; but it’s fine and better than my old glasses). 

In the Kitchen. . .

 Roman taking thirds.

On Saturday evening, I opened up the kitchen table, extending it as far as it would go, placed a tablecloth on it, and set six plates in front of the six chairs circling the table. (It was a very laid-back, casual affair, with unmatched, but complimentary, plates and glasses.) I moved to the stove, cooked a potful of Romano green beans, and tossed them with butter and salt.

My favorite Romano green beans.

Picked fresh from my sister's garden.

I sauteed some shrimp in butter and garlic til it was bright pink but not overcooked and spongy, then I squeezed in fresh lemon juice and some grated lemon zest, and I added enough olive oil to the pan to make a nice sauce. Meanwhile I boiled a box of De Cecco rigatoni in water that was “as salty as the Mediterranean,” and when the pasta was nicely al dente, I drained it and tossed it with the shrimp. I added a bit more olive oil because the dish wanted a touch more moisture and stirred in just enough (but not too much) grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese. I slid the shrimp scampi into a pasta bowl, cracked pepper over it, sprinkled a super-light layer of cheese on top, and scattered over some chopped parsely.

Monty walked into the kitchen while I was in the midst of cooking. He looked at me and then at the table, grinned, and said, “Just like old times!”

Yep. And I loved it. We sat round the table, Michelle holding Liya (who didn’t feel well), all of us eating and talking. Roman took seconds, then thirds before his parents said “enough.” Jayden wanted to eat everyone’s shrimp. Everything entirely devoured.

It was a good meal with a set kitchen table and my family round it. The first time I have done this in two years. It made me happy!

Oh, and we had our traditional Saturday morning Chocolate Chip-Lemon Scones with coffee earlier in the day. I accidentally left out half a cup of flour. I knew I hadn’t added enough flour when I pulled the dough together and pressed it out, but I didn’t want to knead in another half cup and risk making the scones heavy and dry, so I left it out. I calculated that the ingredients were good—lots of butter and cream and unhealthiness that would make for a delicious, desserty taste—so even if the scones flattened out completely, they would still taste wonderfully delicious. And I was right.

 Click for a bigger look.

Liya liked her smoothie. Roman is sweet.

And Jayden grabbed the sponge to wash his mug. He's super-focused!

And there were smoothies and, in the evening, popcorn.

They taste better than they look in the picture!

I made these “Chinese Green Beans” recently when Aaron was over in the evening. When Aimee saw us eating them during a video chat and wondered what they were, I told her I would get the recipe to her, and I might as well get it to you, too! I love Asian flavors, so this is one of my favorite green bean recipes, from Jennifer Katzinger’s Flying Apron’s Gluten-Free and Vegan Baking Book (Flying Apron is a bakery in Seattle).  I could eat these green beans all day long, and when I make them, I eat mine and want to sneak bites off the plates of everyone else when they’re not looking.

Chinese Green Beans

with options and suggestions from me

3T. sesame oil (not toasted, but you can add a tiny bit of toasted for flavor)

2 shallots or ½ small onion, minced

2 cloves garlic, minced

½ to 1 chili pepper, seeded and minced (or ½ t. garlic-chili sauce)

1 t. grated fresh gingerroot

2 T. tamari (or shoyu)

1 T. brown rice vinegar

2 t. maple syrup

1 lb. green beans, trimmed

½ c. toasted cashews, finely chopped for garnish

1 T. julienned Thai basil, for garnish

--Heat sesame oil in large sauté pan over medium heat. Add shallots, garlic, chili pepper. Saute til shallots are light brown and slightly soft, about 5 minutes. Add gingerroot, tamari, brown rice vinegar, and maple syrup, and turn off heat.

--Meanwhile, boil or steam green beans until they are no longer grassy-tasting. I like my green beans really cooked til tender and not crisp-tender (but they should not be at all mushy). I don't like the grassy taste of what I consider undercooked green beans.


--Toss beans with sauce and garnish with cashews and basil.

I am Pondering. . . 

Lots of thoughts are crossing my mind, and some of them stay there for awhile. I suppose these are my ponderings.

One came about on a walk. I had just crested a steep hill and was enjoying the view of the southern hills from there when I heard soft strains of music. I looked off to the left and saw a young woman in a summery skirt and blouse, walking slowly along with her hose watering her flower garden. Just when I looked at her, she glanced at me, and we smiled at each other.

“It’s peaceful,” I said.

And she replied, “I try.”

I was struck by that. “I try.” Because that’s it, isn’t it? True, deep inner peace is a gift from God. We seek Him, we surrender to His will, we set our mind and heart on Him, and we find “peace that passes all understanding.” But outward peace? We try. We create it. And because of that inner pace we have been given, we are both constrained and enabled to make order out of chaos, just like God did and does.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: Creating order out of chaos or mess is a God-like act. And this orderliness brings a sense of sweetness and peace: to our home, to our family, to our inner spirit, to our outward behavior. “For God is not a God of disorder but of peace.” This is why we do our domestic work. This is why we continually battle disorder. This is why we file things. This is why we declutter. Order brings peace and allows for the enjoyment of beauty. Blake’s words have become my domestic mantra: “All in order, sweet and lovely.”

Okay. I think one “pondery” thing is enough for one day. 

Making Home “Sweet and Lovely”. . . 

The garage is almost entirely gone-through. At the opening end of the garage, I have a large stack of things to be taken to the dump or Goodwill, and at the other end are a few items of furniture I can’t fit, or don’t want, in this house. There are also more boxes I need to sort through to streamline what I’ll keep. Christmas things. Papers. Memorabilia. (Who wants the encumbrance of carryiing boxes of stuff through one’s life?!) I’ll go through those few remaining boxes little by little.

My second bedroom—disastrous a few weeks ago—is in tidy order. Instead of creating a huge mess of stacks of papers all at once from the boxes of writings I’ve created and collected, I am working through little bits of each box at a time. This is both more manageable and more enjoyable. I’m in no hurry. I like reading through these old papers. 

I Went. . . 

On a Sunday afternoon hike with Aaron, JoAnne (my sister), and Gene (her husband). We drove to Mt. June, and hiked to the top. At its 4,623 foot elevation, June not a big mountain like the ones we were in last weekend, but views from the top were still pretty, and the walk to the peak through the woods felt cool and soothing on a warm day.

It looks like we're about to enter a fantasy-wood.

Lots of tall trees on this hike.

View from up top.

Toward the place we backpacked last weekend.

Me going back down.

The filtered light was pretty all along the trail.

JoAnne and Gene coming down.

There was a lot of fallen timber along the way.

Most of it was cleared away by chainsaw,

but we walked over this rotted log.

Ferns abounded, too.

It all looked amazingly lush for late August.

 End of trail.

I am Thinking. . .

About the wonders of coconut water! :-)

During WWII, in the Pacific, medics used coconut water as IV fluid. It is sterile, has a natural antiviral, antibacterial, and antifungal properties, and it is said to closely resemble blood plasma. It’s actually not identical to plasma, but the fluid worked wonders for injured or sick soldiers who needed it. Medics didn’t even bother to strain the fluid or move it to an IV bag. The IV ran straight from a hole made in the coconut to the arms of the soldiers. It was most sterile this way.

Coconut water has a nice balance of electrolytes and is used by many as a recovery drink after a workout. This is terrific for almost all of us, but here, too, experts say, coconut water is not perfect (they say too low in salt and too high in zinc for a perfect replacement drink for those who are elite athletes or who do extremely intense workouts. . . but some just add a pinch of salt).

And now I’ve found another use for coconut water. They make awesome, natural, pure eye-drops! I awoke the other morning with scratchy, red, allergy-eyes (and some puffiness). I’ve had all-natural eye-drops around before, but I couldn’t find any, so I looked online to see if coconut water might be okay to use. Yes, indeed—recommended even. So, I tried it. Washed my eyes with the stuff, and, sure enough, my eyes were soothed, and the redness went away. I like this. It’s cheaper and even more natural than the concocted “natural” stuff.

A Quote I am Leaving With You. . .

“Simple bourgeois happiness is often despised by activists of all sorts who quite often do not realize the depths of life itself; who think that life is an accumulation of activities. God gives us His life, not ideas, doctrines, rules. At home, when all is done, life begins.”

~Alexander Schmemann