Preserved lemons; or, genetic memories calling?

August 22, 2011 / Sheila / 3 Comments

I’m preserving lemons even as I write. It is a work in progress. Yesterday I satisfied my inner Martha Stewart with a home kitchen exercise that fulfilled multiple needs at once. The prep work for making preserved lemons is ridiculously fast and simple. But as the process itself takes about three weeks of wait time, the jar of lemons sitting in plain view all that time on my kitchen counter, it feels like I’m engaged in a much more complex endeavor. And the result, three lemons, so beautifully softened by kosher salt and time, can be stored in the fridge for up to a year. Nice! I’ll have a lengthy period of time to enjoy the fruits of my labors.

Let me tell you how intense those labors were.

It all began with a beautiful image of these lemons on a food blog. The accompanying text promised flavor so luscious, so bright, so wonderful…well, I was inspired to put my hands on a Mason jar and buy some new lids to try this at once. There isn’t really even a recipe. You just choose the size jar you want to use, select a few lemons (I used three); you wash and quarter the lemons, slicing not quite through with each cut, so that the pieces stay attached. Then you fill the cut areas with kosher salt, stuff the lemons into the canning jar, and put a lid on. You don’t even have to go through a sterilizing process, just run the jar and the lid through the dishwasher before using. I did add a little extra salt on top of the last lemon, following the well known, “if a little is good, a lot is better” philosophy. That’s it. Now I just wait for the magic to happen.

Supposedly, in the next three weeks, the lemons will soften, and their flavor, enhanced by the salt, will intensify. You can use slivers of the lemon rind in salads, or add slices to roasting meat, or find your own unique ways to utilize your bounty. Already, overnight, the lemons have released some of their juices; a small amount of liquid has pooled at the base of the jar. I understand that lemon-watching can become quite an obsession during this period, requiring regular checks to see what they’ve done overnight, or since I left for work, or between dinner and bedtime…you get the idea. I’m going to have a regular entertainment center on my counter!

I’m looking forward to trying these in my favorite lemony recipes. But the preserves are just the bonus. The real joy in this is that I’m feeding some need within myself to be domestic, beyond home-cooked meals and laundry processing. I don’t understand where it comes from. I’m not even aware the need is there. Until I see something like this blog post, and I’m fired with an intense desire to can, or preserve, or somehow participate in the time-honored arts of a farm kitchen.

Really, if I believed in genetic memory, I would think I’m experiencing the combined promptings of grandmothers, great-grandmothers, and all sorts of extended kin, who were queens of the garden: canning, freezing, making jams and pickles all summer. Like the little red hen, immortalized in the story of an industrious chicken who works for her chicks, my ancestors were not corporate ladder-climbers. But they worked, none the less. It would even be safe to say they were driven: growing, harvesting and processing all season long. As a child, my summers were blighted with never-ending buckets of black-eyed peas, butter beans, and worst of all, lady peas, those tiny peas that require HOURS of shelling to produce a “mess” of peas large enough to be worth cooking. My siblings and I shelled, and shelled, and shelled some more.

Then I grew up and left home, and I don’t think I’ve shelled anything since. I’ve dabbled in flower gardening, actually grown a few tomatoes and herbs. This year I grew a pot of lettuce, and I have a pot of rosemary. My prize outdoor edible is a rhubarb plant. I love to harvest the stalks and chop up quantities to freeze for winter cobblers and pies. That’s pretty satisfying. But there’s something about canning…don’t know what it is. Mind you, I don’t really want to go whole hog. I don’t want to invest in home canning operations or stockpile jars. But now and then, a little freezer jam, or this find…preserved lemons…that seems just about right for me. I get all of the pleasure of anticipating jars of produce, thriftily and skillfully (!) stored for later use, without the intense labor of serious canning.

My next effort at this type of kitchen magic is making my own vanilla. Found a recipe (same thing, you just split vanilla beans open, add a good quality vodka, and wait for the liquid to darken). Simplicity in itself! The particular charm here is the beautiful jars I’ve found for vanilla storage. I have to admit, that’s the real hook of this experiment. I have a long-standing ~~clear glass fetish~~ love of clear glass, and cool bottles always call to me. Check out this company: see my find? You can order in bulk, or buy one bottle at a time. How fun is that?! But more on this later, when my bottles have arrived and I’ve completed my commitment to the lemons.

As an adult, I turned to people like Martha Stewart for inspiration. She gardens more elegantly than my family members did, I have to give her that. When Martha is in her garden, she looks invitingly rustic, never seems to break a sweat, or even get very dirty; and she always has interesting tools, perfect rows of plants, or wonderful raised planter boxes, no doubt designed by an upscale firm specializing in agricultural architecture. Martha changed my view of gardening. It went from something decidedly un-glamorous to a skill to be proud of, or at least interested in. Thus my move from reluctant child pea-sheller to an adult, able to appreciate the pleasure of having home-grown produce. I’m happy to say that for many years now, I’ve appreciated the talent and skill that I was dismissive of when I was younger. It seemed a given at the time. Didn’t everyone’s grandmothers garden and can?

Well, maybe there is something to genetic memory. Or at least the inspiration that comes from memories of seeing the hard work and skill that generations of women put into feeding families. Martha made it cool to be in the kitchen, to have my own domestic skills. But my grandmothers made it real for me. I can close my eyes and see rows of finished cans of beans lined up on the counter, or freezer bags full of corn, cooling, waiting to be tucked away for a winter meal.

Hmmm…wonder what else I can preserve in salt…or vodka…I might be on to a whole new thing. And if it’s a good thing (thank you, Martha!), some lucky ones of you might be getting these as Christmas happys. We’ll know in about three weeks.

In the meantime, if you’re wondering, I’ll be perched at my kitchen counter, watching the magic unfold in slow motion.

Good advice!

August 21, 2011 / Sheila / 2 Comments

A few new favorites…

My advice to you is not to inquire why or whither, but just enjoy your ice cream while it’s on your plate. – Thornton Wilder

If you want to be happy, be. – Leo Tolstoy

The thing that is really hard and really amazing is giving up on being perfect and beginning the work of becoming yourself. – Anna Quindlen

She took the leap and built her wings on the way down.

You have brains in your head and feet in your shoes. You can steer yourself any direction you choose. You’re on your own and you know what you know. And you are the one who’ll decide where to go. – Dr. Seuss

Today is a new day. – Chicken Little

Earth’s crammed with heaven. – Elizabeth Barrett Browning

She decided to enjoy more and endure less.

She was kind and loving and patient…with herself.

A successful person is one who can lay a firm foundation with the bricks that others throw at her. – David Brinkley

Anything you are good at contributes to happiness. – Bertrand Russell

A strong woman understands the importance of creating space for personal well-being, spiritual nourishment, and regeneration in order to maintain her authenticity, especially when the universe whacks her with its two-by-four and hands her days when it takes a great deal of courage just to show up. – Laura Folse

Worry does not empty tomorrow of its sorrow; it empties today of its strength.

She discovered that she was the one she’d been waiting for.

Consistency

August 12, 2011 / Sheila / 4 Comments

You cannot raise a man up by calling him down.

-William Boetcker

This seems self-evident. Who doesn’t know that it’s better to be positive than negative, that it’s better to offer encouragement than ridicule or criticism?

A positive attitude begins in the mind. A positive attitude is not a false view that everything is rosy. A positive attitude allows you to acknowledge imperfection, and determine to do what you can to improve the situation.

I come back to this again and again in my own life. When I let myself be drawn down a negative path of thought, my attitude and actions spiral down too.

The hardest part of being positive is being consistent. Anyone can be positive for a short time, for a sprint. It takes practice and effort to maintain hope and an expectation of good for the long haul. Because life frequently disappoints, people regularly disappoint, and many things are beyond individual control.

This morning, I couldn’t control the weather.

I couldn’t control the stock market.

I couldn’t control the real estate market.

I couldn’t control events in my kids’ lives.

I couldn’t control health for my family.

I couldn’t control actions of other people.

I could control my smile, my temper, and my heart.

Controlling the last three makes the other factors beyond my control more bearable, more manageable.

Controlling my responses, my attitude, doesn’t make me perfect. It makes me tolerant, forgiving, and accepting.

Determination to keep a positive spirit in the face of disappointment exercises personal strength, demonstrates self-discipline, and keeps me grounded in what is important: what I have determined is important to me.

Things are not important.

Relationships are.

Perfection is not important.

Excellence is.

Mistakes are not important.

Trying is.

None of these thoughts are new. All of these thoughts are challenging. Why is it so hard? Because consistency is the single most difficult component of choice.

Today, I’m trying again. I’m my own cheerleader, saying the words, the phrases, that motivate and inspire me. I’ve been accused of being a Pollyanna, too naïve or too afraid to face reality, to see the bad stuff. But that’s not who I am. I’ve seen, and I’ve chosen.

Satisfaction and Super Woman

August 11, 2011 / Sheila / 4 Comments

There are many types of satisfaction in life, and today, I’m focusing on the satisfaction of acquiring organization tools. Or really any type of tool. Mind you, this doesn’t extend to using. I’m talking about the simple joy of purchasing, downloading, discovering, and yes, I’ll even include listing as a source of satisfaction.

You see, there’s the satisfaction of doing…the “I’m exhausted but really glad that job is done!” feeling. There’s the joy of creating…”I’m really quite clever, after all!” And there’s the pleasure…truly, it’s almost the best…of acquisition. You know, the feeling you have when you find the thing, the app, the tool, that’s going to streamline all your work. Organize your stuff. Manage your clutter. Enhance your life.

I noticed this phenomena decades ago when I was a young mom and into crafts with my kids (and without them…I can admit, here and now, that some of the crafts I enjoyed were just for ME). I realized that buying the supplies was almost as fulfilling as actually doing the project. That’s continued in other areas of my life. When I buy paint and brushes and masking tape, I feel as if I’ve done the paint job, when really, I’ve only selected and purchased. Without one drop of paint leaving the can, I have an enormous feeling of accomplishment. How cool is that?

I recognize the same force at work when I find a new app for my phone or iPad. (I try not to do this with apps I have to pay for…you know, it adds up!) Some app gets great reviews for organization tools, or calendaring, or photo editing, and I download right away, as if the work of organizing or photo editing is magically done just with the click of a button. Why is that? I certainly understand that a download does not equal a completed project. But never mind, the main thing is…I’ve got the app, and I can use it any minute. Any time I choose. Any minute now.

The magic works with lists I make in my planner. Somehow, writing a chore or errand down gives me a sense of completion. Not quite as much as checking off my list, but still, the thrill is there.

With all this effort at being organized, am I? Well, I certainly like to think so. I certainly am in some parts of my life. (Don’t ask my husband about this, we do NOT see eye to eye here.) But like an addict, I’m always on the hunt for the next best thing that will make me invincible, powerful, on time…no, no, I’m not really trying to be a super-hero. Just a woman who has it all together.

Judging from the availability of tools for organizing, I’m in good company. We’re either all really obsessed, or really tidy. You know who you are. This is my attempt to set the record straight and acknowledge my fixation.

Well, well, well…I see from my lists I’m a bit behind. Must finish a task or two so I can mark them off. Now to find my marker…must be around here somewhere…think I need an app for that…how to find anything in your house. I could make a fortune! I’ll just add that to my list…

The fine art of “slugging”

August 4, 2011 / Sheila / 2 Comments

I think we’ve invented our own term for one of the things we do best, Rob and I. We sometimes say we’re slugs, when we have a lazy day around the house. Somehow that mutated to “slugging,” although I think we may be the only two people using that term to mean what we mean.

The fine art of slugging…and lest you think I exaggerate in calling it an art, let me assure you that it does rise to that level of perfection…is not really about being lazy, or having a day of non-productivity. In fact, almost the opposite is true. But it is the kind of productivity that matters. A slug day is NOT about getting home chores done, or running errands all afternoon. No, slugging requires mental effort, not too much physical output.

A good day of slugging can begin early or late. We’re early risers, morning people at heart, so we’re typically out of bed before 6:00. Coffee for me, tea for Rob, and market watching, email, news, reading. But no loud noises are allowed to disturb the quiet of this hour.

After a bit (the best measurement of time) one of us is hungry. Breakfast signals a break to talk, share, catch up. If we’re at home, we sit in front of the windows in the sun porch, watch the traffic on the water. Sometimes we make a plan for the day at this point. It can be weather dependent, or there may be an errand that has to be fitted into the day. But our best slug days are lengthy stretches of “a little of this, a little of that.” Usually one of us has something we’re researching online. One of us fiddles with plans for lunch or dinner so we know what to expect in terms of timing, or if we have to include a market outing before evening.

And always, after the early morning quiet, we have music going.

Sometimes we plan things we don’t do. We think we’ll get moving and go do a workout. Go for a picnic, or a walk around the lake. Or we think we’ll start an afternoon project. And sometimes we do. But not always. That’s the beauty of a slug day. If you’re doing something that holds your interest, or having one of those rambling conversations that wraps around one thing and leads to another, and another…it’s ok that the afternoon plans don’t materialize. Part of the charm is the flexibility we allow ourselves.

The key is that you have to be in sync to do this. You can’t be on two different clocks. If one of you is on whirlwind time, and the other on island time, you’re not going to have a day of slugging. You’re not going to wonder, late afternoon, where the day went. And you have to know that spending a day like this together is guilt-free. This is just as important as painting the bathroom or doing the laundry or bathing the dog. Actually, it’s more important, because not only is it a mental change of pace, but doing it together is the thing that makes it special. I can never do this successfully without Rob. Inevitably I let myself get busy with the ought-to, have-to, need-to lists. Slugging together means spending the hours together, sharing a bit here and there, pausing to exchange a glance, a smile, a thought.

The best slugging is really unplanned time. Like many of the good things in life, it just sort of happens. About the only thing you can do to set the stage is to clear your calendars so that you don’t have obligations that interfere. After that, it’s just one of those things. Sometimes it happens, sometimes not. But when it does, you have a day of magic, out of nothing at all. Just time together, a little music, simple food, reading, talking, laughing.

Slugging…I highly recommend it for your mental health, your love life, for feeling satisfied with life. It’s relaxing, but more than that, it’s fulfilling. And the nice thing is, doesn’t cost a penny, doesn’t take special equipment, doesn’t take more than your time and your heart.

My cash-free life

July 27, 2011July 28, 2011 / Sheila / 4 Comments

So, I’m traveling Friday, and of course I have a list of to-dos before I leave…plans for work, plans for packing, plans for a few things I’m taking care of around the house. The most important thing on my list? Now don’t laugh…this is a reflection of my cash-free lifestyle…I have to stop at an ATM and get cash for the airport ferry.

Airport ferry you say? What’s that about? Well, some very clever engineers, way back in the 70s, decided to build Ketchikan’s commercial airport…on a different island. Yep, that’s right, the ONLY available location for an airport that was feasible in this area had to be on a separate strip of land, across the Tongass Narrows that separates the island Ketchikan is on from the island home of the local airport. And how do you reach the airport? Is there a bridge? NO, there is not. If you recall the infamous “bridge to nowhere” issue from the last presidential election, that was about Ketchikan. No bridge across to the airport, but the local government graciously runs a small ferry that crosses twice an hour, for the small sum of $5 per person if you walk on. If you drive across, the fee is higher.

Now aside from the irritant that I have to back up my time to leave to include the ferry schedule, which is annoying in itself, the ferry operates on a CASH ONLY basis. How is that possible in this day and age? I don’t keep cash, don’t use cash, literally go for months, unless I travel out of town by myself, without seeing so much as a nickel, much less a dollar. The fact that I have to obtain cash to get to the airport is a special irritant to me. This isn’t about the $5 fee, which seems reasonable enough. It’s about the fact that it has to be paid in cash.

I keep a $100 bill in my purse, an emergency-only fund. But if I break it, that defeats the purpose of it being for emergencies only. Because then it would only be a matter of time before it would be nickled and dimed away, on this, that, or whatever. I learned a long time ago, before the earth’s crust cooled and when I had small children who loved happy meals, (and before fast food chains accepted credit cards) that if I didn’t have cash on me, I could be firm and say, “not today, Mommy doesn’t have any money.” And they didn’t know I could have gotten money. It was an effective way to keep us out of fast food restaurants, and to keep money from flowing out of my veins.

But wait, you say, you don’t have to actually be cashless to resist spending money. Well, that’s true, and being cashless doesn’t mean I don’t spend. Of course not. But it helps me be thoughtful about what I spend, and how I spend. One of my personal spending guidelines is that I don’t buy anything on a credit card for less than $5…that just seems unfair to the merchant, who has to pay a fee for credit card usage. For small expenditures like a Starbucks coffee, I buy a Starbucks gift card so I don’t have to pay in cash or ask the merchant to pay a fee for a very small credit card charge. Tips for meals or services go on my card, and there is really nothing that I buy, no where that I shop, that I can’t pay with my VISA.

The benefit to me, besides giving me an almost complete history of my spending habits and actual expenses, is that I use a card that gives me airline miles. And I use those miles. I pay the balance each month, so I’m not in credit card debt, and I make the card work for me. I figure, if I’m buying a gallon of milk, I’m flying on that milk. Or someone is. It’s a way to get a little more bang for my buck, and when you live in Alaska, flying becomes an important part of life.

I use direct deposit for my salary. I get a digital copy of my pay stub. I write a few checks each month, primarily for charitable contributions, with an occasional check written on a health savings account for routine care. But that’s it. Everything else is paid through my credit card. Except the airport ferry. They got me, and I can’t fight city hall. What would happen if I forgot to have cash on hand? Well, if I’m with Rob, not a problem. He seldom uses cash, but he always has cash. And if I’m not with him? Well, I might be stranded. You pay the ferry fee after you ride across to the airport island, but before you enter the airport…a real no man’s land. No ATM, no credit or debit cards accepted, and nothing but a grouchy woman in the booth to say, “Sorry, but rules are rules!” No, I’ve never gotten caught in the ferry wilderness…but I wonder what happens to poor souls who do. They’re probably still wandering about on the airport side, looking for a friendly face, an ATM, a five dollar bill on the ground.

And I wonder…how many people out there are like me, going through life without seeing, touching, or using real money on a regular basis? Sometimes I read about saving for purchases by emptying your change into a jar, and that amazes me. Do people really still have change every day? And why? I’ve lived this way so long, I’m not sure if I’m in the mainstream or an oddity.

Didn’t expect that

July 26, 2011 / Sheila / Leave a comment

Had a first yesterday from the Salvation Army: they said they weren’t accepting donations! No, no, it wasn’t anything personal, although I’ve been a frequent flyer there in the past few months. They’re just doing a little rearranging, so I have to come back later in the week. Uh huh, a likely story! But I’ll attempt to drop off again in a day or two. Really, it’s all useful stuff, mostly knick-knacks I’ve outgrown the look of, or books that can go to someone else’s shelf.

I got home to find that since I left the house this morning for work, the front step bannister developed a need for a new paint job…was just puzzling over that when I realized what happened. I had the deck and steps power washed and obviously a little more came off than I anticipated. Fortunately I have matching paint on hand; now I just need a sunny couple of hours to touch up from the clean up.

I was weeding in my front flower bed over the weekend and discovered I have a small strawberry patch; who knew? I find new things every time I work in the flowers. Things grow so lushly it’s easy to miss small plantings. And the raspberry bushes that I thought were not producing…I went out on the back deck to inspect the power wash job and see what had been scrubbed away there. Happily for me, the deck and the paint on the house is intact. AND there are raspberries ripening.

I had two friends stop by my office on Monday. One brought a home-baked cookie as a thank you from his wife. We went berry picking together last week. The other brought me a locally grown rose. It smelled so sweet, and reminded me of my mother’s garden.

Had a little technology coup with my iPad. I figured out how to upload photos from my camera card without having to transfer from a computer. Turns out that a camera kit I bought does the trick, making it a breeze to add photos to enjoy on my screen or to use with my blog. That was easy!

Got upgraded to first class for my flights down to Arizona. I love that: I must admit it has been fun to be a frequent Alaska Airlines traveler and get the free upgrades.

My big planter of lettuces is growing amazingly well. I wasn’t sure if they would make it in a pot, but each of my three leafy varieties is thriving. Can’t wait to harvest and have a salad made with my own greens!

Another iPad find…I downloaded an app that turns the whole screen into a writing surface. You can write with your finger, or use a stylus that is specially designed to work with the surface of the tablet. I’ve seen some blog posts lately about going paperless using this technology. I’m not sure I’m that advanced yet…for one thing, I don’t want to wag my iPad around with me when I’m out and about, so I don’t think I’ll be putting my to dos or my grocery list on my screen. But this definitely brings a new element into play, and I’m excited to see how it changes my iPad experience.

Little surprises, little finds…sometimes good, sometimes exasperating. But however small, the victories and challenges pique my interest, keep me going, bring a smile to my face. Or not, but that’s part of the charm.

What didn’t you expect today?

One of those days

July 13, 2011July 18, 2011 / Sheila / 5 Comments

I was on a roll this morning. Got up at my usual time, had my coffee, made cream biscuits to take into work. All was well until I got to my desk and was settling myself for the morning with my full second cup of coffee in hand. Somehow I managed to tip it over and the cup fell to the floor with precision splash factor. My light pink pants were the main recipient of the coffee, and you can imagine how I felt, going through an entire day of training wearing my morning coffee so prominently displayed. Most days I could run home and make a quick change, but not today. We’ve had someone from another PeaceHealth region here to help launch our new imaging process. So not a day to duck out and miss anything.

I went out with several friends from the office for lunch, pink and brown pants not withstanding, and I offered to drive. Of course the parking options were parallel. Now, I never choose parallel spaces unless there is NOTHING in front or in back of the space I’m targeting. But that wasn’t possible today. Cruise ships are in, town was hopping at lunch…lucky to find a space at all, parallel or not. So I had the pleasure of parking with great difficulty with a car full of co-workers. Do you know how long it takes to park when you have an audience and the parking is tight? Let’s just say we had a late lunch. And everyone was really very kind about it. The snickering was muffled. And I know they were laughing with me.

So in the big picture, that hardly counts as a bad day, right? I didn’t really think I was having a bad day. But I was reminded again that no matter how competent I may be, or how well I may do at a job or other area of my life, throw a little insecurity my way, a little embarrassment, and my high school self rears its head, sending me (secretly, and briefly) back to the shy and insecure girl that wanted to fit in, to be cool, to be “right,” whatever that meant at the moment.

Well that girl – woman, thank you – has been grown up for a while now, and I learned long ago that few people are concerned with what I’m doing…they’re thinking about the spot they acquired at breakfast, or their own bad parking job. It helped a lot when I realized, somewhere along the way, that pretty much everyone lives with insecurity, with mistakes made prominently in front of co-workers or friends and family. Everyone has that little voice inside that second-guesses and is self-critical. I learned the best tactics to overcome those feelings are acknowledgement and laughter. I admit it…some days, I collect spots. Not every day, but often enough that I’m a good customer for spot removers and laundry stain fighters. And I would like to deny it, but there are too many witnesses to get away with denial…I’m a bad parker. There, admitted. So I laugh it off, remember that what’s important is not the parking, but the experience. And lunch was great. AND we all made it back to the office safely.

Tomorrow I’m wearing something brown, just to be on the safe side. Just in case these things run in threes.

Signature Recipe – my favorite salad

July 11, 2011 / Sheila / 1 Comment

I don’t often think of myself as having “signature” characteristics or likes. I don’t have a signature color (although I wear a lot of green, and black figures prominently in my wardrobe as well). I don’t have a signature fragrance. I like a variety of perfumes and colognes. But as we go through life, we all find ourselves gravitating to some things again and again. I think I can safely say that I have a signature salad because this really is my favorite, and the recipe I go to most often when I need a green and leafy element in any meal.

So, one of the few recipes I would tag with the term “signature:”

Sheila’s Salad

Mixed spring greens, or baby spinach leaves
Thinly sliced red onion rings, separated
Fresh cilantro leaves (I like lots of cilantro!)
Craisins, or you can substitute fresh seedless red grapes or raisins
Roasted Pecan halves
Crumbled Feta cheese (be generous)
Freshly ground black pepper, to taste

Salad dressing of your choice (creamy poppy seed, huckleberry, or wine vinagrette work well with these flavors.)

You can use as much or as little of each ingredient as you like. I would suggest a ratio of salad greens and the remaining ingredients in a proportionate amount: half greens to the remaining ingredients. The feta cheese and pecans provide a savory flavor, while the craisins or alternate fruit adds just the right balance of sweetness. You can also make this a dinner salad by adding sautéed shrimp or grilled fillet of salmon or halibut, flaked into bite-sized pieces. The contrast between the chilled greens and the hot grilled or sautéed seafood creates a perfect light but satisfying summer entree.

Enjoy!