Monthly ArchiveJuly 2005
Food & recipes 31 Jul 2005 02:14 pm
This one’s for my Dad.
We have a new Sunday tradition: Eggs Benedict!
Back in Jax, we’d dash out every sunday, some of us having breakfast, some not, and those who’re hungry just had to hope some poor Sabbath-breaking soul bought donuts for us pious ones.
Hmmmm.
Well our new church doesn’t have Sunday school. This means our mornings can actually be included in the “day of rest”. No more rushing, dashing, or gnashing of teeth. A chorus of “mooooommmm! He hit me!” anyone?
We sleep in. Until 7 LOL. Celia is the first child up and we sit and watch the morning and the birds and the mist over the mountains. And today I started the new tradition. I got the idea from the craving I’ve had every single sunday morning since we left Michigan.
Sundays up there often meant breakfast at the Delhona. I have no idea how much we actually ate there and how much is the romantic spin I tend to put on childhood memories. It doesn’t matter anyway because the effect on my tastebuds was effectual either way.
The Dehlona was a wooden building by the bay, as I remember it, just off the highway. There were deer on the wall by the loft, clothed tables, and big men in plaid flannel. I don’t remember going in winter, though we must have. My memories of that place look like it does here: misty and grey in the morning and cozy inside.
Erin always got French Toast. I always got toast and bacon. We also got hot chocolate with a marshmallow and whipped cream. Mom was the creative one, usually ordering something different each time. I get my adventerous food spirit reguarding variety from her. Daddy always got Eggs Benedict because they made them perfectly there: eggs cooked but still wiggly.
The memory was very affecting. Most sunday mornings, especially hungry sunday mornings, have me pulling into the parking lot bemoaning how badly I want a plate of hot Eggs Benedict liberally covered with Hollandaise sauce. David is quite sick of hearing about it! I’ve not tried before now due to an absurd fear of how to poach an egg.
Today’s attempt may not have come close to the Dehlona ideal. I only sampled a bite or two from Dad’s plate growing up, and though I love it, I don’t often find it in restaurants to investigate. But I heated my plates, got the best Canadian bacon I could find, made the sauce, and learned how to poach an egg. (an amazingly simple proceedure!)
My eggs were cooked but wiggly :-).
It was hot, layered, and delicious. I could probably improve on the muffin layer: Thomas’s seemed kind of stale. And it would be nice if I could find some thicker bacon. The kids devoured it; David closed his eyes and “ooooo-ed”, as he’s learned that’s the best compliment I could receive. The coffee was hot, the morning smooth, and my tummy didn’t rumble during the sermon.
It paid off later too. When we got home from church we weren’t starving mad, and were content to head to the pool for a swim while the chicken roasted. Our lunch of roast chicken, potatoes Anna, double Glouchester cheese, plums and grapes was a fantastic afternoon feast which only could have been improved with some family around.
An “ug” would have been nice today. Wish you were here.
Food 30 Jul 2005 05:28 pm
Note to self….
Question the locals’ judgement when they describe certain places as “really good”.
Tonight we ate at Dubb’s. It’s a local greasy spoon kind of diner that has been here since there was just a little train stop, and it’s right by David’s work so the people he works with have described it as a good place to go. There are always tons of cars outside but….
Well, it’s probably best summed up by David, who said as we left, “That’s one tree that should have been cut down a looooonnng time ago.”
Serves me right I guess. I’m such a sucker for “local” and “charming” and “historical” that I romantize places like that, hoping to find the gem of homemade pie, great fresh veggies, or some other simple goodness.
We could start at with the fact that every single item origionated from a frozen cardboard box….or the fact that the mashed potatoes they brought for the baby were instant….or that the hushpuppies were so bad that we spit them into our napkins.
Or we could just let it go and say “lesson learned”.
In other news, we have a house mystery. The Seals have landed, which means, that some darling is continually landing an army action figure into the toilet bowl. Every one of them denies it which probably proves that every one of them is guilty. Take your pick: the only girl, sharing a room with brothers and feeling overtaken by guns, swords, and army men? The little brother who is jealous of the owner of said army men and feeling left out? Or the biggest one, who watches too much Napoleon Dynamite and is often doing stuff like that “just to see what would happen”? At least so far each time it’s been into a CLEAN bowl.
I’ll let you know if we solve it.
Food 30 Jul 2005 04:58 am
Good Morning Everyooooonnnnnnneeeee!!!!!
We’re trying a new coffee. It’s a local roast by a company in Maryville called Vienna Coffee (huh?) and we’ve got the Highland blend. I”m trying to decide if I like it or not. It’s pretty mild but not very toasty sweet like my previous Serena Organic from Starbucks. I’m *this close* to tracking down the Songbird Shadegrown that Stacy introduced us to a few years ago. Phenomenal coffee it was! Totally addicting and with the power to transform me from a non-coffee drinker to a “gotta have my one good cup a day” addiction.
Such are the things I contemplate on a Saturday morning. David has been up for hours, all chipper and morning-person that he is! Celia, who inherited this same trait (how in the WORLD did I carry and birth a morning person?!) has been up chatting with him about his new idea: making our dream health food store more of a wine shop/food bar called Impecable Taste.
“Impecable” looks wrong to me when I type it. I make no claims to be able to spell, especially in the MORNING.
Wheat just got up, wearing snowman pants, snowman slippers, tigger shirt, and with his “ga” up near his nose and his thumb in his mouth. A man after my own heart, he won’t speak for a little while ’till he wakes up more.
Celia is pouring over house flyers say, “Oooo! There’s my dream! There’s my dream!”
She came and got Rowan from me this morning and took him to David. “Here Dad. Change him. He’s a little damp at the end.”
Our great plan for today is to register for the homeschooling co-op and classes, get the van checked out (it’s making the same noise we had repaired right before the move), and to house hunt. The high today is about 86 and it should be really nice in the shade. Perhaps we’ll work in some roller blading on the Green Belt.
The boys are anxious to get swords. All the boys in our church have wooden swords (Grandpa…wanna make some?). It seems that about a year ago, after the potluck dinners on the grounds, the men and boys would stage battle re-inactments with swords fighting and strategy. They had all kinds of rules and plans and it was quite jolly fun until the lady who runs the nursing home they rent from put the kabosh on it. Seems she though football would be a more normal pursuit…..anyway, the long and short of it is, every home we’ve been in for dinner has had boys and swords in it. Which means, the kids think this is really God’s Country. When our church gets it’s own building they will be starting the battles back up.
My coffee’s gone. Or rather, it’s down to that last half inch that I never drink. Why is that?
Life before 2008 29 Jul 2005 11:54 am
Sleep deprived and adjusting…..
Well, we knew this would happen. When we got up here, and the white hot stress of job hunting, selling, moving, and settling was done, we knew we’d have a drop in adrendaline that would side line us a bit.
And how.
Let’s add sleep deprivation to it, shall we? Not really a surprise….He Who Does Not Sleep Well (can anyone tell I’ve been reading HP all week?) has Never Slept Well. But to his 5 am howl fest, he has now added 11pm. It’s very habitual and all the books say never nurse, walk, coddle a baby getting up habitually. What it actually looks like is this:
Rowe-baby crashes around 7:30 and sleeps well through the olders making thier noisy evening routine complete. David and either work or chat or veg out to a movie until our heavy eyes send us to our pillows around 10:30.
And then…
just.
as. our heads. hit. the pillow…..
“WWAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHH”
He’ll go for a long time too, knowing we are feet away. Eventually David walks him or I nurse him and hopefully we crawl back into the sheets quietly enough to not send him screaming again. We’re good at taking turns.
So much for other nocturnal activities (haaa haaaa).
Last night though, David had a Brain Event. (rare for us after dark, when Auto pilot clearly takes over).
WE LEFT THE ROOM.
Yup. Rather than lay there praying for the monkey to quit flayling like a cockroach, we got up and read. Very counter-wind-down! But after just a few minutes, when Rowan had seen us leave the room and knew we were not just laying there listening to him, he STOPPED CRYING.
We tiptoed, fully understanding the impact a stubbed toe, a stumble into the wall, ANY SOUND could make.
We made it. Until 3 am, when some unseen force must have pinched him.
That time I nursed him and bought myself a couple more hours.
Today I’m in a fog. Feeling lonely and unaclimated. Had too many chocolate donuts and CFA for lunch. Ready to beat myself up for not being more cheerful, especially after a great dinner with new friends last night and another to come tonight.
Elizabeth Elliot says, “Do the Next Thing”. That got me through more than one bad day during the move. It could get me through today as well.
Well, under Woobie that is, because crawling under it, magazine in hand while the kids have rest time is my Next Thing :-).
Good thing Monday has a “reset” button.
Food & recipes 28 Jul 2005 05:27 am
Them Thar Pancakes…..
Yeah. Oh-KAY. The top level of a 3 story building on the top of a ridge is not a fun place to be in an electrical storm. Can we just establish that? Yes? Good. Moving on.
Yesterday was an interesting mish-mash of little things, that all things considered, could be added up to say it was a pretty fine day.
Breakfast was stellar, if I’m allowed to say so. Sure it could have been better on a Saturday morning, with poached eggs, thick peppered bacon, and a sweeping breezy view with uninteruppted conversation, but hey…this breakfast even without that stuff was pretty dang delicious.
Blueberry Buttermilk pancakes with blueberry sauce and fresh local butter. Hot coffee and cute little sleepy heads served on the side. Here’s the recipe:
For the sauce: 2-3 cups blueberries, a few tablespoons of sugar, and a little lemon juice. A little water (maybe 3 T). Simmer on the stove until the sugar melts and the berries start to break down and thicken. Set aside.
The pancakes: 2 c. flour, 1 t. soda, 1/2 t. salt, 2 T melted butter, 1 egg, 1.5-2 c. buttermilk.
Buttermilk is by far and wide the secret to good pancakes and waffles. The recipe I use calls for separating the egg and beating the egg whites to fold in, but that’s too fussy for me. Another secret is to have a stick of butter handy and to wipe it over the griddle before every pancake. Not for sticking purposes, but for the thin, slightly crunchy layer it adds to every golden surface.
Topped with little butter puddles and the sauce, this will make you lick your plate. Don’t worry, no one will be watching because thier noses will all be in thier plates too!
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Near disaster occurred after that. One of the kids had LICE. Now in order for the fear and trembling this caused in me to be understood, you’d have to have been there last year when we had it for an entire MONTH and spent over 500 dollars in getting it irradicated. That time, we suspected that whatever neighbor it came from wasn’t treating it. Reguardless of where it came from this time, I wasted no time in doing the drill: rx medicine to kill even the eggs, shaved heads for the boys, every item of clothing and bedding washed, entire house vaccumed. A LOT of work and very disheartening. I think I caught it early and quickly but I’ll be glad when it’s cold outside and the risk for getting it is way down.
Lice is like cock roaches in the south on a rainy day: it doesn’t matter how clean things are, they’ll still come. Getting rid of them is hard and there’s nothing else to make things feel dirtier. So why talk about it? Because maybe if we take the stigma off it people will get more aggressive about treating it rather than hiding it and my kids will get it less. grrrrrr…….
Onward. After that debacle we managed some time in the afternoon to swim. The coke man came for the machine, which thrilled two certain little boys to no end. They finally got to see the inner workings of it. I, on the other hand, was more interested in the two men working on it. Just listening to them talk: “You got yeh a cute one thar” and “them thar kids sure look like thar havin’ a good tahm.” These weren’t bumpkins; that’s just how the locals talk here! It’s a different kind of southern…
Speaking of southern. David spent another day driving with his manager. Most guys in the shop like classic rock, which pretty much means the Allman Brothers or Lynard Skynard. David said, “I’ve heard enough Allmon brothers to choke a horse.” Hmmmm.. Who’s sounding southern now? LOL.
The kids are all doing new things this week. Andrew has perfected flips into the pool, both front and back. Not a single time does he do them though, that my heart doesn’t stop, envisioning in clear detail how many ways this could potentially go wrong and his head somehow get injured. I should have put flips in the birth clause but then I’d be surely met with major resisitance: boys like Andrew simply have to have some element of danger in just about everything they do or they shrivel up into little depleted mama’s boys. I wonder though if that would be such a bad thing some days…what would be wrong, say, with Extreme Reading?
For those unfamiliar with the Birth Clause: there are a host of things I’m conditioning the kids to see as “off limits” by virtue of the fact that I gave birth to thier not so little selves. It’s stuff like jumping out of airplanes, hanging from ropes off of mountains and buildings, or otherwise being in an un-armoured state in various high places, and choosing careers where people may shoot at you. That such a clause even needs to exist gives you some idea of the kinds of things Andrew dreams about.
Celia’s new thing is nice and calm, and true to her charcater, cute and imaginative: she gets her hair wet in the pool upside down and then flips it up around her face. She then gets everyone’s attention to see that “I’m George Washington!” Indeed, if one added some white powder, she’s got a good little immitation going. This idea was born from the Chick Fil A presidential Fan-Decks, of which they may have a full colleciton of. Lest anyone think I’m a carried away health-fruitcake, let me reassure you that my kids get an ample supply of junk food via my favorite comfort food: CFA.
Wheaton’s trick is also true to form: his sense of humor is highly sophisticated and often a little dark. Wheatie-Tom has taught himself to “dead man’s float” in the pool. This can be very scary to see a four year old do; heart stoppingly scary in ways flipping off the side just doesn’t do. *Especially in group situations*. Wheat though, clued in very quickly that doing this gets a reaction, and now does it quite intentionally, with that little gleam in his eye that has me very nervous about where his humor is going to take us once he’s old enough for….oh let’s just say flammables and explosives. I’m sure the men in his life will get a kick out of how freaked I get.
They are definately “all boy”. Which leads me to my little appendage, the one who would happily live attatched to my hip, at least for now: Baby Rowan.
His majesty’s latest joy is to flip and bolt. Broken down, it looks like this: I take his diaper off and as soon as I do he flips to his tummy and starts crawling away, fully nude and who cares if I’ve cleaned him yet? He’s FAST. And he thinks he’s being uproariously funny. He can’t quite crawl yet; it’s more of a combat crawl/floor swim thing. But at 8 months today (or was it yesterday?) it seems a little advanced. Wishful thinking that he’d stay small a bit longer I guess.
The ideal end to my day took shape in the form of a huge discovery: a new breading for my fried squash.
I remember the first time I tried fried yellow squash. It was at the Wednesday night suppers at First Baptist, while I was in high school. We sat at a large round table with Dan and Earlene Alvarez, Rosemary Watkins, and sometimes Todd and Gloria Alvarez. Years later Todd married David and I. I figured if I could like squash fried, then I could try it other ways. I think it was the first time I made a conscious effort to stop being such a picky eater, which would make it the first step in becoming the foodie and wine taster that I am today.
Fried squash is one of my favorites these days, and most especially my own. I found a few years ago that if the slices are soaked for an hour or so in buttermilk that they are sweeter. One persistant problem has been getting the flour/cornmeal breading to stick and last night I happily improved on this.
Out of cornmeal, I subb’d Matzo Meal! The breading not only stuck to the squash, but it got beautifully crispy and golden, as if it had been pressure fried. Think the breading on Houlihan’s Shrooms, for those familiar. PERFECT. Sweet and farm fresh (gotten yesterday from Jinger’s garden after berry picking), this squash (and fried green tomatoes done as well) was smack yourself good. I savored every single bite, as did the family. Incredibly wonderful; might make some more for lunch today. Definately the kind of thing one would like to eat often!
Food 26 Jul 2005 01:12 pm
Oh Happy Day.
Can I be more joyful than I was this morning? Today we wandered out to a u-pick blueberry farm in a part of the county known as Townsend. It’s a pretty area and I found another produce store to try on another trip. We drove up and waited on two families we were meeting. Apparently picking started at 6:30am so we were far from the first ones there. But it wasn’t too crowded and we strapped on our milk jugs and headed out into the bushes.
It was a dream come true kind of morning. I picked fat blues off of the clusters, listened to my kids nearby laughing and making new friends, telling stories and having conversations that didn’t need sensoring or scolding. How refreshing to not have to scold them so much or feel nervous for them! There were robins and purple martins about; at one point a mother bird of some kind was chattering at me before her pile of berries on the ground, as if to say, “these are mine Lady!”. I just talked back and told her there were plenty to go around!
It was pretty hot on our heads. I had on David’s Spruance hat and an old man recognized the ship and told me how glad he was too see it represented. It must have been the heat affecting me because I forgot to ask him if he’d been on it and probably missed a really neat conversation.
I know I caught myself smiling more than once. We ultimately picked 10 lbs. of berries and paid 10 bucks for them! We’re looking forward to blueberry pie, pancakes, and smoothies.
Afterwards we went to Jinger’s house for lunch. We were at thier house Sunday for the Psalm sing and thier younger three children are still at home; two beautiful teenage girls and a boy just slightly older than Andrew. He’s a fellow gamer and they’ve hit it off really well. Those girls, as well as Jennifer’s girls, were making all over Rowan. Celia came in and started talking to him: “You like this doncha boy? All the beautiful women!” She’s a hoot!
We came home with Jinger’s homegrown tomatoes and squash, and with sweaty and hosed down wet chilin’s. Tired and happy, and okay honestly a little crabby (it can’t all be perfect ‘eh?) they are watching a movie until time for chess club later tonight.
Score big on on the eating locally/seasonally front: local blues picked in their prime, picked by my own hands. Wow. And they are popping sweet and juicy. It definatly rates high on the happy scale!
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Also to share:
Mom-in-law Carol sent this today and I liked it:
One day a father of a very wealthy family took his son on a trip to the country with the firm purpose of showing his son how poor people live. They spent a couple of days and nights on the farm of what would be considered a very poor family.
On their return from their trip, the father asked his son, “How was the trip?”
“It was great, Dad.”
“Did you see how poor people live?” the father asked.
“Oh yeah,” said the son.
“So, tell me, what did you learn from the trip?” asked the father.
The son answered: “I saw that we have one dog and they had four.
We have a pool that reaches to the middle of our garden and they have a creek that has no end.
We have imported lanterns in our garden and they have the stars at night.
Our patio reaches to the front yard and they have the whole horizon.
We have a small piece of land to live on and they have fields that go beyond our sight.
We have servants who serve us, but they serve others.
We buy our food, but they grow theirs.
We have walls around our property to protect us, they have friends to protect them.”
The boy’s father was speechless.
Then his son added,
“Thanks, Dad, for showing me how poor we are.”
Isn’t perspective a wonderful thing? Makes you wonder what would happen if we all gave thanks for everything we have, instead of worrying about what we don’t have.
Appreciate every single thing you have, especially your friends!
Please pass this page on to friends and acquaintances to help them refresh their perspective and appreciation.
“Life is too short and friends are too few.”
Life before 2008 26 Jul 2005 05:04 am
Random thoughts from a Tuesday morning.
The coffee was good this morning. That’s always a good sign! We’re off to pick blueberries in a bit with some new friends from church, and have what we need for pie making later.
Sounds in my kitchen after dark: Rowan, The Baby Who Does Not Sleep Well, was up for his 11pm ritual and David was walking him in the darkened kitchen, trying to convince him that nursing was not what he really wanted to do. Anyone who knows Rowan will know the sucess rate of this effort on a typical evening! I heard David singing….
“Hush little baby, don’t you cry, daddy’s gonna by you a roller rink.
And if that roller rink’s not flat, Daddy’s gonna buy you a baseball bat.
And if that baseball bat gets cracked, Daddy’s gonna buy you a racing track.”
A little unorthodox to be sure but it must have worked because stinker-butt went to sleep until 5 am!
David-dear is in his car this morning *alone*. The sales manager is kicking him out on his own after a whopping 6 days of training. How’s that for confidence! And guess where he’s headed?? MAINARDVILLE! (for those of you who don’t get the signifigance of that, David’s longtime nickname in the Sandstrom family is Mainard). Well, no more car sickness, though I’m asking for prayers. Last night in family worship, while we were all confessing one sin during prayertime, David’s was “disreguard for traffic laws”. Hmmmmmm…some things probably shouldn’t be said in front of one’s wife.
To those of you who think I made too much of a deal over a little peach, let me suggest that this is just evidence that you have been abusing your tastebuds for too long on fiberous and dry peaches. Life is too short, loved ones. I could go into the “why’s” of seasonal/local eating, and probably will one day since I love to crawl up upon my various soapboxes ad nauseum, but for now consider the thought that if you don’t get as much simple pleasure from the magnificent world of food, that perhaps it’s not just that I’m wierd or exaggerating….perhaps it’s the food you’ve been eating.
Not saying I’m not weird…but you already knew that ‘eh? “Lick a peach, it tastes like a peach! Lick a snauzberry and it tastes like a snauzberry!” Edible wallpaper, my peach was not. (name that movie)
Life before 2008 25 Jul 2005 12:51 pm
Where oh where to live????
That’s the burning question! This area has every choice: in city (which feels just like Jacksonville. We think because both cities have two merging interstates), suburbs, country home with new developments scattered around, or out in the sticks.
David’s job is extremely flexible so we could live anywhere. We’re kind of settling into a homeschool group in Maryville and love it’s small-town-with-culture feel. But our church, who we’re increasingly more attatched to, is in Knoxville. Worse, thier building is temporary and they aren’t sure where they’ll relocate. And the members are scattered all over both counties.
If we aren’t careful we could end up driving more here than in Jax. Right now we’re off a nasty highway that is pretty much heavy no matter what time of day it is. We know we don’t want to be around here. If any of you readers want to know how to pray for us, that we’d have wisdom in choosing a location is a good idea.
Speaking of David’s job, this week he’s driving with his manager around East Tenn, which will be his territory. He’s anxious to get into the driver’s seat and end the passenger-side car sickness!
There is more to tell of today, like how the locals continually complain of the heat and humidity and the heat wave. I’m almost to eye-rolling stage! Cold snaps begin here in less than four short weeks, whereas Jacksonville Dah-ling will be in the 90’s for um….MONTHS?!?! Still, we must smile along. Our bodies will probably adjust in a year or so and they’ll have other hand this fall when it’s 65, we’re in sweaters and they’re still swimming!
And not to repeat myself too much here….but speaking of swimming LOL the critters are in their gear and begging to go down to the pool, where I must go lie in the shade with my book (Harry Potter number 6 and yes, it’s the best one yet), watch them play, listen to the rednecks from Alabama and thier twang, and generally relax. It’s really tough not having a yard and another bathroom and another 1000 square feet to take care of! Feel my pain.
Life before 2008 24 Jul 2005 07:06 pm
The Lord’s Day
What a blessed day! It was pretty today. A hot summer day to be sure but the mornings here are very pleasant. We park down a path from our church sanctuary and walk up a hill. I’m sure when it’s raining this will be miserable but today it was lovely.
Covenant Reformed Pres. (I posted a new link in the sidebar) is certainly unlike any church we’ve attended. But it has the strongest sense of community we’ve ever seen and seems like it will be very edifying and challenging spiritually. Today’s sermon was excellent: from Matthew, on the motives of our prayers and whose ears they are intended for. It’s really wonderful to have the Lord’s Supper every single week, to be a part of such God-centered worship, and to grow to a new level of committment.
On a mother’s note, it’s wildly refreshing to be able to sit with my kids in church and not worry about who’s bugged about thier sounds. Ours sat wonderfully today btw and Rowan slept through the sermon and half of the supper procession. We’ve been in other congregations where the membership is a bit divided in how they feel about children being a part of the service. Here the entire fellowship is united and it makes a HUGE difference.
We were invited to the Clapp’s home for dinner today. They have a great big back yard and a great big boxer named “Bogie”. It was great to get to know them better! Their children are closer to Wheaton’s age but our older two are enjoying the age range just fine. We were home for a nap and then it was off to the “Psalm sing”.
One reason why some churches don’t sing Psalms in thier worship is because the congregations are unfamiliar with the tunes. So twice a month CRPS meets to practice. There’s a new hymn and a new Psalm and we practice in parts. The result is that our congegational singing is a bit like everyone being in the choir, and most everyone knows the songs. We had a dinner together first and then we all practiced. The kids headed outside with the older girls to look after them and the adults had a short bible study. They are in a series from John and tonight it was about how the disciples struggled with Jesus’s upcoming death.
Several times today I noticed how our kids are responding to so many other children being in a happy, respectful relationships. We are hearing “yes Ma’am” again and “No sir”. They are making new friends and playing in healthy, joyous, and childlike ways. They crawl into the car worn out, sweaty, exhausted, and in total bliss. What a fantastic place to grow children! Not so much the place I know but the environment. These kids hear thier parents call them “blessing” and they see other kids being active parts of thier families too. No one is shuttled off or sequestered and ther are no sullen faces or pouty lips.
It was nice to be reminded yet again that we did the right thing. Kids are resilient and we’re getting ours back!
Food 24 Jul 2005 04:31 am
Produce!!!!
Some of you may already know that in January of this year I decided to try eating locally and seasonally, as exclusively as possible. Even though Florida has an agricultural past, I was frustrated to quickly realize that with imports from Mexico and South America, there is little sold in stores that grew locally. I’ve done much better to eat seasonally. And through the move I’d settled with what was familiar LOL.
I’m pretty unexperienced when it comes to catastrophic moves like the one we’ve made. So this whole transition is very new to me and I don’t have much past experience to really draw from. I didn’t go away to college and we moved from MI when I was a kid. One of my biggest jobs to tackle here is to find a food buying system we can afford and also hopefully enjoy.
My first foray into it this week was at a local place called Horn of Plenty. What a great name ‘eh?! It was a fun experience: beautiful plants for sale outside, local canned foods inside, lots of fresh produce. It was kind of seeing what I’d wanted my favorite fruit store in Jax to grow into. Really neat! Their veggies were a little high priced but we got some wonderful rhubarb jam, June apples (new variety for us!) and local peaches.
Next was Kroger a few days later. Typical imported produce with a few local favorites. Great selection of cheeses and specialty items that I’m releived to be able to find when I’m trying new recipes. Their organic section was the biggest I’ve found and it was nice to find my brands of babyfood. Too pricey though to be my usual haunt.
Today we tried Food City. Hmmmm…how to describe it? For those of you in Jacksonville, if I say, “Albertsons or Food Lion on the Westside” oughta do it. Heee heee….it was clean. It was “down home”. Our nearly toothless and yellow fingernailed but very, very kind check-out girl sort of embodied the whole experience for us. Simple, not very nutritious, but not unfriendly. I will NOT pay 4 bucks for milk though! As much as Walmart will suck a person’s soul, Food City did nothing to feed it, so this probably won’t be my usual spot either.
Maybe I ask too much of a grocery store. You think?
In looking for Amburn’s, another produce store, we found Dough Wilson’s. Very neat and clean with a good selection of what was currently being harvested. The owner himself works the shop is very helpful. We bought our usual items and asked him about eggs. Both he and Horn of Plenty had local milk and butter but the eggs come from Indiana! And in no store yet have I found my combination of organic eggs AND free roamers. I want my eggs to come from Happy Chickens thankyouverymuch! He directed us to a guy who keeps chickens down the road, but with no sign saying he wanted to sell his eggs, we decided to skip it.
We weren’t prepared for what we’d bought. Just innocent Floridians, loading thier kids in the car on a hot summer day. With NO. IDEA. OF WHAT WE HAD IN STORE.
Dun, dun duuuuuuun.
The kids were hungry so I took out one of the white peaches we’d bought. Locally grown and fresh from the tree, yada yada yada. I’d heard that before. They did look good, with a pretty blush and no bruises. I’d grown accustomed to peaches being either a little fermented and overripe tasting or a little on the fiberous/fuzzy within side. I washed it off with some warm bottled water that was in the car and raised it to my lips.
Oh. My.
Can words describe it? The fragrance was pure and summer. Totally impossible to duplicate. The flesh was soft and JUICY. It exploded down my chin. It was cool inside and sweet but not overly so. The words on a bottle of Pinot Grigio that sometimes say, “with peach undertones” came to mind. This is what that meant. This peach was the kind that you get hints of in a good white wine. The kind of peach that haunts your memory with its perfection and leads to most every other peach purchase to come to fall seriously short.
And then we had these blackberries. HUGE. Pop one in your mouth and the totally balanced sweet/tart ratio infiltrates every corner of your mouth. Warm from summer sunshine and obviously picked that morning. Bush ripened. They stained fingers, cheeks, and shirts and it was okay. It was a little Norman Rockwell moment.
On Sunday morning we had the last of the peaches and berries sprinkled with a little sugar, granola, and splashed with milk. Sad to see them go, because even if I go out and buy more, nothing will taste as good as those first, surprised, bites.
Life before 2008 23 Jul 2005 05:33 am
Sam Houston Historic Schoolhouse
You’ll have to bear with me and my blog I guess until I learn how to get my film shots digitized and posted on here. It’s coming, but for now it will have to all be in words.
Yesterday we woke up and after a week of mornings with serious book work for homeschool, felt like we needed a break. Fortunately there are tons of things to explore up here! I had a wild hair to go to a farm and the newspaper had a listing for corn picking. “How fun!” I thought, imagining the cool photo ops while the kids picked thier own ears of corn.
David got me directions, we lathered up with sunblock (we burn faster at this higher elevation than we did near the beach!) and we were out the door by 8. The rain clouds seemed to be approaching and I had to make myself not look at the gorgeous farm land all around us and pay attention! After a few, “ooops I missed it. Let’s turn around”, met with groans from the kids who wanted me to get my act together, we saw a little sign that said “Corn”. I got out and started unloading the kids and the two older people sitting in lawn chairs came to meet me.
“Honey? Why you gettin’ everyone out?”
“Well we’re going to pick corn!”
“Nah…it’s in the truck here. It’s already been picked. You wouldn’t want to go down in them fields. Say…you from Florida? I got a granbaby in Florida. A great granbaby actually.”
Setting my corn-picking disappointment aside I stared at her. She didn’t look a day over 45. Her arms were tanned and toned and her face was smooth. Her hands looked strong. I knew she had to be good on the farm.
“Great Grands? You can’t be old enough!!”
“Well sure I am! I got a few more down there too. It’s hot there ‘eh?”
And on we went. I bought two dozen picked ears from her, marvelling all the time of whatever fountain of youth she had. Even if she started at 16 and so did her daughter and granddaughter, she looked waaaaay good for her age.
So we got going again. I still wanted to do something “farmish” but didn’t want to waste too much precious gas exploring. We headed to the Greenbelt (more on that awesome park in another post) and roller bladed for an hour or so. The shade was cool and it’s breezy here. It makes me laugh when the locals complain about the heat and humidity! They don’t know the half of it! David said when he got home that one of his sales stops had a mechanic that was griping about how fast the grass grew. Huh? The grass here is like short carpet. You can run your toes right through it. There are almost no bugs, no sand spurs, no creepy crawlies. And they don’t mow every week either. There is some kind of scent here that I can’t quite place. It reminds me of summer visits to Rockford, Illinois when I was a kid…a mixture of hardwoods, humidity, fresh grass, and something else…
I remembered that the Sam Houston schoolhouse was within town limits. I have a neat map from the Parks and Rec department and I’ve added in all my landmarks so I can find my way around. We drove through some pretty neighborhoods; farms interspersed with clusters of houses that make it obvious some land owners sold parts of thier property at one time or another. Rolling hills, tons of trees, cows and horses, and white houses of various sizes and big white porches. Dream come true stuff for me.
I posted a link to the school house but the photo was taken in winter and won’t do the grounds justice. Everything is lush here, like Jacksonville is in May (my favorite month there). There was low Indian flute music playing, sort of quiet and meditative from some speaker. Sam Houston was from Abraham Lincoln’s time and was raised by Cherokee Indians. In his youth he ran this school house and later became governor of both Texas and Tennessee. There was a museum and then the schoolhouse itself. It only cost a dollar to get in because I was the only one over 10!
We listened to a taped tour and looked at the artifacts; the long rifle being the most interesting to Andrew and Wheaton, and Celia liking the dresses and kitchen utensils. We headed outside, around a winding path and past birdfeeders and windchimes.
The little schoolhouse is just a cabin but it was fun for the kids to see. There was a very friendly grey striped cat that visited and I think they liked him the best. I’m sure they miss Amos as much as I do and this boy let us hold him and pet him. The kids had fun juggling with the huge walnuts from the trees and they ran over the rolling hills outside. They found a cow through the trees, a foot bridge, and a deer skin stretched out to dry. There were teak chairs next to the quintessential babbling brook where I fed Rowan and sat in the shade.
There it was the end of July at lunch time and we could have stayed outside all day! Mild and breezy in the shade but hot in the sun. Birdsong, flute music, a friendly cat. No other visitors; we had the place to ourselves. The only thing that could have made it better would be to have Daddy with us and a picnic lunch. In the end, it was our hungry tumms that prompted us to leave, but at just a dollar’s admission, we’ll certainly be back!
Life before 2008 22 Jul 2005 11:03 am
Opening Post
So life in Florida was good. Blessed even. I guess from some viewpoints, it was really excellent. We had a wonderful house in suburbia. I loved our house! We’d remodeled the kitchen earlier last year. It had wood floors with light filled rooms, pale yellow walls, and a huge magnolia tree in the back yard. Sweet memories were made there; some so sweet we wondered sometimes how we’d ever want to leave. I guess if life was just in our house or made up of favorite spots during the week (like an occassional trip to the beach or Sunday dinners at Mom’s, just a block away) we never would have. But it’s like the contrast of our life started to get more glaring. Minutes in traffic became hours in traffic. Everything we did required a long commute. An entire month last year was taken up with hurricanes. The cost of living soared while the income stayed the same. Our children, who on one hand loved having neighborhood friends, started showing the signs of being on dangerous tracks headed into puberty. Our internal seasonal clocks were continually stiffled in the sticky wet heat and virtually no seasonal change. As David and I both looked into another decade we saw the monotony ahead. Working hard with little show for it and possibly loosing our children in the gamble of “staying safe”. Keep the steady job even as he drowned in cubical stagnancy. Be content with the small garden that discouragingly was eaten up with the millions of bugs and parasites in Florida. Ignore all longings for something different, something better, a chance to make a difference or do something BIG. Allow dreams to happen on those rare cool days, or Sunday afternoons, or moments under the trees with chilled wine in hand but…then then hunker down and hibernate your soul for the majority of the year when it’s either too hot, or too wet, or there’s too much traffic or debt to cope with to do anything else.I guess a crisis of the soul is when you realize that no matter how risky, you have to try or accept madness as an inevitable outcome. And risk doesn’t look so big when you realize that letting go of the temporal things around you doesn’t mean giving up what’s really important: we’re in this thing together!!!!!
That’s where we were. We prayed for opprotunities. We refinanced and bought ourselves some relief for a year. We researched and “did our homework”. We bloomed where planted, meaning, we made the most of small moments, of our setting, of our life with the realization that it may never change. Somewhere in the course of this past year, boldness set in. Clarification formed of what was important, what we knew we could accomplish, and what was not worth spending our days on. Life is too short! What it was I guess, was the fruition what we’d learned through Clara. It just took us this long to do something about it.
We took a vacation to Tennessee. It was suposed to sort of fit into the context above: if we couldn’t move somewhere else, we could visit. It was part of being content. We were really surprised when we were slammed with the strongest sense of “Place” we’d ever had. Can a soul belong in an earthly location? We felt like we could BREATHE up here. That our hard work would go further up here.
And ….suddenly….things changed.
David came home to hear that his job, which he was very good at, would never become more purely out of personal reasons from the powers that be. We weren’t just glimpsing that highway. We were STARING at it. It was as if our family was put into a strainer and all of our life in Florida just sifted down through the holes. What was left was US. We knew we were ready to leave everything else behind and just reach for something BETTER.
So the house went on the market that day and sold within 3 days. David left that following week to find a job in Maryville, Tennessee. A place we’d never been to exactly but knew people here. God is in the details you know…little miracles happened and doors opened and every need was met. “Grace for Today” was our motto, through being apart, looking for a job, meeting new people, getting packed, all of it.
In the end, the house closed July 13. All of our stuff went into storage except what we’d need for a few months. My (Tia) parents moved up here with us, with an extended van and large trailer, and a chicken in our minivan! We wound through the mountain pass to breathtaking views and a new life. Lucy the Chicken went to a foster home. Amos the cat lives with Grandma for now. We’re in a light filled 2 bedroom apartment up against the woods. It’s a quiet complex with a wonderful view of the mountains. While we get settled in a new job and a new life, this is a nice place to live and house hunt.
David got the sales job he wanted but couldn’t get in Florida. He’s spreading his wings and getting ready to really SOAR. Death to Cubicals and office politics! We are going to experience SEASONS!!!! We’ve found a wonderful church family and homeschooling support group. We’re frequently speechless at the kindness of the people up here; the community that we never had in the sprawl of ever-enlargening-Jacksonville is constant here.
This feels a little “Star Trek” here: the purpose of this blog is to boldly go where this Graham family has never gone before, to seek out a new life and a new civilization, to record for our loved ones how we stepped off the highway and took the scenic route instead.