Sun Dogs, Weather Dogs, Weather Rocks and Pogonips

I am a member of a Facebook group called Appalachian Americans and the other day a lady mentioned "weather dogs." In my innocence, and sure that this was some mountain weather forecasting strategy I had not yet heard, I asked what a weather dog was. Now those of you who know are already splitting your sides laughing I am sure. But for the rest of us who are uninitiated, here is what I learned:

A weather dog can predict the weather, and pretty much any dog can do it. To get his/her prediction, open the door and let the dog in. If the dog is dry, it's not raining. If the dog is wet, it's raining. If the dog is covered in white stuff, odds are it's snowing (unless your dog has paid a visit to the white leghorns in the henhouse). How simple! And, I would wager, a lot more accurate than the Weather Channel.

A weather rock is similar to a weather dog. Anyone can have a weather rock--you don't need to live in the mountains but you must have access to a rock. Place the rock in a position that can be viewed easily from your favorite vantage place and observe. If the rock is dry, it's not raining. If the rock is wet, it's precipitatin'. If you can't see the rock, it's foggy. If the rock disappears under a white blanket, it's snowing. And if you bust your you-know-what going out to check your weather rock, it's probably icy.

Sun dogs or solar parhelia which is their formal name really have nothing to do with the canines we know and love, mountain or otherwise. A sun dog is that odd little rainbow-looking pool of light sometimes seen to the left or right of the sun, and usually when the sun is low in the sky. Sun dogs are caused by light reflecting off ice crystals, but I have seen them in summer too so that seems odd to me. Sun dogs can be very colorful and quite lovely, or might only be a very bright spot. Sometimes (although this is something I've never seen) sun dogs appear on both sides of the sun, giving the appearance of three suns in the sky. Here is an example of a sun dog, from Wikipedia:

You can see other photos here. There are moon dogs as well, occurring in the same way as sun dogs. I do not think I've ever seen one of those.

The ancient Greeks referred to sun dogs in their weather lore; in some cultures the appearance of three suns in the sky caused widespread panic and fear that the world might be coming to an end or some other catastrophe loomed. With no information to know otherwise I can see how such an event could be frightening. You can read the weather lore of the Greek poet Aratus here. He was obviously a man who was a keen observer of the natural world around him. Which probably made him an excellent poet.

And lastly, the Pogonip. I first heard this term several years ago and wrote a post about it because the word fascinated me. I do not think one has ever occurred where I live but I would like to see one sometime because they look absolutely beautiful.You can read what I wrote about the pogonip, and the comments of readers who have experienced this "ice fog" by clicking here. It reminds me in a way of growing crystals  with charcoal, ammonia, salt and bluing.

I wonder what other unusual weather terms are used in various places? Is there something people say in your region that the rest of us might not have heard? Do tell!

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Working on the Booth

We worked on our Marietta booth on Sunday afternoon, adding a few new items. Sales are slower in both locations this month, but we were warned in advance that January and February were traditionally slow sales months, so we weren't surprised. Still sales have been better than I expected. Here are a few picks of some changes we made at the Marietta booth. We'll be working on our Ravenswood booth this week as well; constant updating keeps the stock looking fresh and attractive, especially for the regulars who might not stop in if everything looks the same each time they come.

I added this small clothes rack to hold linens. I'm not sure I like it, though. I'll see how it works out over the next couple of weeks. I think people are going to knock things off of it pretty easily. One of those good ideas that may turn out to be not so good.

Boy, can you tell I was hurrying when I took these? The floor really isn't that unlevel!

Here I moved the Ransburg canisters and cookie jar to to top of the old kitchen cabinet. I liked the red and white contrast. I grouped  few other red items and left the gold polka dot pottery for contrast. I also grouped the peachglow pieces and added a vintage cookbook to this table.

On the wall is a recent acquisition, a coal miners lunch bucket. These are getting harder and harder to come by and the prices reflect that scarcity.

We also found this copper boiler recently. It's in good condition with no holes, but it has a few dents which is not uncommon for this old pieces. I debated cleaning it to a bright copper shine, but decided to leave that to the taste of its (hopefully) new owner. Right or wrong, do you think?

I made some major changes in this cabinet. I removed most of the stock I had on these shelves--it's been there a while with no real interest so it was time for a change. I added new items and displayed the older things so that they showed better. For instance, on the top shelf there is a green Depression glass bowl. I've had it there for a bit, but you could not really see its color. Its new home shows it to better advantage. Will it sell? Who knows, but at least it might get noticed.

 More new additions: a small wood folding stool, a lidded tin bucket with a nice shabby look to it, and a lidded basket that looks just right for a small sewing basket.

Here's the bottom shelves of the big cabinet. The butter churn is a recent find, actually 2 finds. We found the jar in a junk shop, then I went on eBay to find the top to fit it. A lot of what we do is like this--find, fix, clean, repair, and then finally and hopefully sell.

We still (always) have more to do in this booth, but I was happy with the changes we made this time.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Looking Back at White

We had snow last week--not much, but enough to create beautiful landscapes everywhere I looked. We were in town when it started so we enjoyed a fairly lonely ride home since few vehicles were on the road with us. Here's a photo journal of the trip up Joe's Run and home. The snow all melted today as the temps were rising and the rain was falling. At least we have the memory.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Making Scones

When I was young, scones were one of the treats I looked forward to. They were also one of my earlier ventures into baking. No wonder; my mother's recipe was so simple anyone could make them successfully.
As I got older and had my own family I experimented a bit, adding this or that to see what the result might be, but the basic recipe remained the same; on;y the additions changed.

So when I decided I wanted scones the other day, I checked my cabinet to see what was available. There was actually quite a lot: dried cranberries, raisins, walnuts, almonds, hazelnuts, pecans, fried orange peel and chocolate chips. I decided to make orange-hazelnut-cranberry scones but in my hurry I grabbed the walnuts.
And you know, I'm not sorry. The scones were/are delicious and I think I'll make that mistake on purpose next time.

Here's my recipe

Scones

Preheat oven to 400 degrees. This is important to make your scones (or your biscuits) rise properly.

2 1/2 c. all-purpose flour (I used self-rising today, and still added the baking powder. The scones are light and flaky).
1 tsp. baking powder
1/2 c. sugar
pinch of salt
1/4 c. butter or shortening (I like to use half of each)
2 c. raisins or other dried fruits, nuts, orange peel, etc.
Enough milk to mix the above ingredients. (Cider or buttermilk also make great scones. Experiment!)

Mix together the flour, sugar, salt, and baking powder with a fork. Cut in the butter or shortening with a pastry blender. Add raisins (and I added candied cherries today too. You can vary what you add--nuts, cranberries, blueberries, orange peel, etc).

Add milk and mix with a fork into a dough to about the consistency of biscuit dough--moistened and forming a nice ball,  but not sticky. Less mixing is better than more. 

Pat out to about 1" thick on a floured pastry board and cut into squares. I sprinkle flour onto the board first, so the scones pat out easily and don't get sticky. Place the squares on an ungreased baking sheeet.

Bake in a 400 degree oven for about 20 minutes (mine were done in 10 minutes today, because the oven was already hot).

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Winter Jam Recipe: Pineapple-Orange Conserve

In this cold weather, who thinks about making jam? And yet, this is a good time for canning because we can all use the extra heat in our homes, and we tend to have a little more time on our hands at this time of year. And if we're canners, we also have some empty jars that can be filled again to restock the shelves.

I had some oranges in a basket that were looking pretty sorrowful--you know how they get after a week or so. The skins lost their luster and were beginning to look shriveled. I hate to throw away something I paid good money for (I wonder about that saying-what is bad money anyway?). I had a can of crushed pineapple left from the cheesecake I didn't make over the holidays, so I decided to make pineapple-orange jam. Only I thought it needed a fancier name, so I'm calling it Pineapple-Orange Conserve. It just sounds better, doesn't it?

Ingredients: 5 sorry oranges, 1 20-ounce can of crushed pineapple, 3/4 cup water, 1/4 cup boiling water, 2 TBSP dried orange peel, 1 box dried pectin. (You could substitute the grade rind of your oranges if your oranges are fresh.)

To make this recipe, I had 5 pitiful oranges, the 20-ounce can of crushed pineapple, and some orange peel I'd dried earlier in the winter. I try to dry it whenever I can because dried orange peel is so useful in recipes like scones, cookies, and jams. I poured 1/4 cup of boiling water over 2 tablespoons of the dried peel and let it set for about 10 minutes to soften. If my oranges had been nice and fresh, I could have simply grated their rind but these oranges were beyond that point, so the dried were a good substitute for the fresh.

I put the pineapple, juice and all, into my big jam-making pot (a 6 quart stainless steel dutch oven). Then I juiced the oranges and added the juice and whatever pulp also came loose into the pineapple. I stirred in the soaked peel and one box of dried pectin, then added another 3/4 cup of water and turned the heat on high. I stirred until my mixture reached a good boil, then added 3 1/2 cups of granulated sugar. I cooked it until it came to a rolling boil and timed it for 1 minute, stirring constantly. I turned off the heat, set the timer to 5 minutes, and stirred occasionally as the jam cooled. This step is necessary for jam, but not for jelly--it prevents the fruit from floating to the top of the jam.

When the timer dinged, I ladled the jam into hot, sterilized jars, put on the lids and bands, and turned the jars upside down for about 10 minutes to help the seal take hold; then I tightened the bands again and that was that. Most authorities recommend putting jams and jellies into a water bath canner for a short period of time. I don't do that, so check your cookbooks for the recommendation time.

End result was a very pretty, and completely delicious jam that is not too sweet--a cross between orange marmalade and pineapple preserves. It was a good use of the oranges, helped warm the house, and looked right pretty in the bargain.

And you know, it was delicious on the Orange-Cranberry-Walnut scones I made too. I'll share that recipe tomorrow.


Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Jack Frost, Father Frost, Frosty Tales

The weather this week is so cold that I do believe we may find that Jack Frost has  painted on some of our older windows in the morning, like the window in this image I found on Wikipedia. 

As a child, I was fascinated by the icy ferns, vines and prisms etched onto the single-pane windows of Victorian foursquare home. Sometimes the ice would get so thick as the condensation melted and ran to the bottom of the pane that three-dimensional shapes resembling the trunks of miniature trees would form. These "trees" branched out into the fern forests that often stretched out to completely cover the window. 

We would gaze in rapture for a while, tilting our heads so that we could see the early morning sun bounce off the icy glass and create rainbow prisms. But then, oh then, we would have to touch the window. We had to, it was a compelling force inside us that made us touch the glass with our warm fingertips and melt little round circles in the ice. Sometimes we etched our names in the frost, or drew pictures. And sometimes, we might pick away at the mini-trunks until one came loose. Then we'd pry it off and eat that freezing cold and probably very dirty ice. By the time we were finished, the icy forest was decimated but we didn't worry because we knew that in a few hours time it would be back.

Today's children don't experience the wonder of Jack Frost's artwork because our newer, insulated, double and triple paned windows do an effective job of keeping this wintry visitor outside. It's better for the envronment of course because less energy is lost and so less resources consumed as we try to keep warm. But it is a shame that children miss out on the magical experience of waking to find the windows transformed into a fairy world of ice. 

Surprisingly, I found little folklore about Jack Frost, and even fewer stories. There are several images of him, most of a faintly threatening and frightening type like this one by Arthur Rackham, which I think is strange because as a child I saw Jack Frost as a friendly little creature with an artistic flair. I did find this story from Russia, not about Jack Frost but about King Frost, which I suppose makes sense given the Russian weather--Frost is certainly King for a good part of the year. It is a chilly, and chilling, tale:

THE STORY OF KING FROST

From the Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang

There was once upon a time a peasant-woman who had a daughter and a step-daughter. The daughter had her own way in everything, and whatever she did was right in her mother's eyes; but the poor step-daughter had a hard time. Let her do what she would, she was always blamed, and got small thanks for all the trouble she took; nothing was right, everything wrong; and yet, if the truth were known, the girl was worth her weight in gold--she was so unselfish and good-hearted. But her step-mother did not like her, and the poor girl's days were spent in weeping; for it was impossible to live peacefully with the woman. 

The wicked shrew was determined to get rid of the girl by fair means or foul, and kept saying to her father: 'Send her away, old man; send her away--anywhere so that my eyes sha'n't be plagued any longer by the sight of her, or my ears tormented by the sound of her voice. Send her out into the fields, and let the cutting frost do for her.'

In vain did the poor old father weep and implore her pity; she was firm, and he dared not gainsay her. So he placed his daughter in a sledge, not even daring to give her a horse-cloth to keep herself warm with, and drove her out on to the bare, open fields, where he kissed her and left her, driving home as fast as he could, that he might not witness her miserable death.

Deserted by her father, the poor girl sat down under a fir-tree at the edge of the forest and began to weep silently. Suddenly she heard a faint sound: it was King Frost springing from tree to tree, and cracking his fingers as he went. At length he reached the fir-tree beneath which she was sitting, and with a crisp crackling sound he alighted beside her, and looked at her lovely face.

'Well, maiden,' he snapped out, 'do you know who I am? I am King Frost, king of the red-noses.'

'All hail to you, great King!' answered the girl, in a gentle, trembling voice. 'Have you come to take me?'

'Are you warm, maiden?' he replied.

'Quite warm, King Frost,' she answered, though she shivered as she spoke.

Then King Frost stooped down, and bent over the girl, and the crackling sound grew louder, and the air seemed to be full of knives and darts; and again he asked: 'Maiden, are you warm? Are you warm, you beautiful girl?'

And though her breath was almost frozen on her lips, she whispered gently, 'Quite warm, King Frost.'

Then King Frost gnashed his teeth, and cracked his fingers, and his eyes sparkled, and the crackling, crisp sound was louder than ever, and for the last time he asked her: 'Maiden, are you still warm? Are you still warm, little love?'

And the poor girl was so stiff and numb that she could just gasp, 'Still warm, O King!'

Now her gentle, courteous words and her uncomplaining ways touched King Frost, and he had pity on her, and he wrapped her up in furs, and covered her with blankets, and he fetched a great box, in which were beautiful jewels and a rich robe embroidered in gold and silver. And she put it on, and looked more lovely than ever, and King Frost stepped with her into his sledge, with six white horses.

In the meantime the wicked step-mother was waiting at home for news of the girl's death, and preparing pancakes for the funeral feast. And she said to her husband: 'Old man, you had better go out into the fields and find your daughter's body and bury her.' Just as the old man was leaving the house the little dog under the table began to bark, saying: 'YOUR daughter shall live to be your delight; HER daughter shall die this very night.'

'Hold your tongue, you foolish beast!' scolded the woman. 'There's a pancake for you, but you must say:

"HER daughter shall have much silver and gold; HIS daughter is frozen quite stiff and cold." '

But the doggie ate up the pancake and barked, saying: 'His daughter shall wear a crown on her head; Her daughter shall die unwooed, unwed.'

Then the old woman tried to coax the doggie with more pancakes and to terrify it with blows, but he barked on, always repeating the same words. And suddenly the door creaked and flew open, and a great heavy chest was pushed in, and behind it came the step-daughter, radiant and beautiful, in a dress all glittering with silver and gold. For a moment the step-mother's eyes were dazzled. 

Then she called to her husband: 'Old man, yoke the horses at once into the sledge, and take my daughter to the same field and leave her on the same spot exactly; 'and so the old man took the girl and left her beneath the same tree where he had parted from his daughter.

 In a few minutes King Frost came past, and, looking at the girl, he said: 'Are you warm, maiden?'

'What a blind old fool you must be to ask such a question!' she answered angrily. 'Can't you see that my hands and feet are nearly frozen?'

Then King Frost sprang to and fro in front of her, questioning her, and getting only rude, rough words in reply, till at last he got very angry, and cracked his fingers, and gnashed his teeth, and froze her to death.

But in the hut her mother was waiting for her return, and as she grew impatient she said to her husband: 'Get out the horses, old man, to go and fetch her home; but see that you are careful not to upset the sledge and lose the chest.'

But the doggie beneath the table began to bark, saying: 'Your daughter is frozen quite stiff and cold, And shall never have a chest full of gold.'

'Don't tell such wicked lies!' scolded the woman. 'There's a cake for you; now say: "HER daughter shall marry a mighty King."

At that moment the door flew open, and she rushed out to meet her daughter, and as she took her frozen body in her arms she too was chilled to death.

Now, go sit by the fire, sip tea, and be glad that you are a kind and loving person and not like the wicked old woman in the story.

I found this book cover image of a book published in England in 1887on Wikipedia while browsing around. You can read the story by clicking here.








Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Fed From the Blade

Excellent reviews are coming in on Amazon for the new anthology from Woodland Press, Fed from the Blade. The book features stories selected from the work of WV Writers, Inc. members. It's a great read.

I was honored to have my poem, Sago, selected from the many submissions for this book. The title, selected from a line in a poem by Sherrell Wigal, speaks perfectly to the works included between these covers. Haunting, sharp, witty, sometimes disturbing and often thoughtful are the words that best describe the stories and poems by writers who know about life in these hills.

Cat Pleska, author, professor and past President of West Virginia Writers, Inc., selected the works included from a large number of submissions. Her selections and the careful arrangement of the book so that each story or poem seems to lead naturally to the next, created a highly readable and memorable volume that accurately portrays the talent and imagination of our Mountain State writers. From the hit-and-run driver in Christmas Cards to Garbargeman Stan stories to the fine poetry of Barbara Smith, Llewelyn McKernan and Wigal.

Get ready for some good reading and stories that will stay with you long after the book is back on the shelf. Available on Amazon, from Woodland Press and of course from me. Contact me by email at susannaholstein@yahoo.com if you'd like a copy for $14.95 and free shipping.

And if your book group, library class or school is interested in having me (and/or some of the other authors in the anthology) visit, please do get in touch!


Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Warming the House on a Cold Day, and Maple Syrup

The temperature never reached 32 today. Tonight will be even colder than last night, with the expected lows in the single digits. For my northern and western readers this is probably nothing new but this has been an unusually warm winter here and this coming week will be the coldest weather we've had this year--and if I think about it, probably last year too.

Before we went to town yesterday we checked on our lettuce bed. It was still green and good to eat, but we knew the cold was coming so picked what was left of the lettuce, and a good thing too because it froze solid last night. We've never had lettuce this late (or early) in the year so I'm not too unhappy about its demise--and I still hope that it might come back from the roots later when the weather warms.

Last night's wind made the night feel even colder, and kept the stoves going to keep us comfortable. Today I decided to help warm up the house by canning.

Even in winter, it's possible to put up food. I had bought a big bag of pinto beans at the store, so those went into the cookpot. I had also had Larry bring down the remainder of the frozen cider.

Freezing cider is a quick and easy way to process it in the fall when we're so busy and the weather is still warm. I prefer it canned, however because it's easier to use, and I don't have to worry about losing it if the electricity goes off.

So that was today's project. I ended up with 13 quarts of cider and 7 quarts of beans. And a warm and toasty house. Free gas makes canning my own beans feasible but I am not sure it would be a saving if I had to pay for the utilities to do it.

Here is what I love about my 1950 model Tappan Deluxe range: I can easily fit two big canners on it, and in a pinch, even three. What modern stove can handle pots of that size and weight except the ones built for commercial kitchens?


A conversation on the Storytell listserve the other day made me think about my early days on this farm, and my first winter here when I decided to tap the maple trees. Here is a copy of the story I posted about that:

I remember my early years on this farm when I wanted to try making maple syrup (this would have been 1976-1977-1978). We had some maples around us, not many, but I thought I might be able to get enough sap to make a little syrup. I had read that red maples and other kinds could also be tapped, so I decided to try them too--25 trees in all. I used an old auger to drill the trees, and cut elderberry branches and removed the soft pith in the center to make my spiles. Every day I hiked up and down steep snow-covered hills collecting my sap, and I cooked it down on my wood cook stove. 

In the end, for all my efforts I got about a pint, and it wasn't very good. I think I started too late, and the sap from the other maples just didn't have the sugar of the sugar maple.I tried for ywo years before giving it up as a bad idea. It is still a good memory, though. Those hours in the woods alone, watching the animals and birds, and seeing the slow coming of spring remain as one of the best times in my life. Maybe not the sweetest syrup, but a very sweet memory.

Here is a photo a friend posted on Facebook of my house when we first moved here. This must have been taken the winter of 1977-1978 (thanks, Laurel!). 

And yet a little more on the topic of maple syrup:

There is a strange tale I sometimes tell that I found in a 1906 history book of my county, about some young people who were at a sugar camp when they were caught by a sudden storm. The creek came up so quickly that by the time they reached it, it was impassable. Two sisters grabbed switches from a nearby willow, whispered something to the sticks, and the sticks turned into a large white horse, big enough to carry all 4 of the young people across the creek--where the horse promptly turned back into willow switches.

Has to be true--it was in a history book.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Country Things: Winter To Do List

The weather turned cold last night

and colder air is coming

Check the light in the cellar

stock wood for the fireplace

put gas in the tractor and put on the blade

add bedding for the hens

bring the dogs in by the fire

let the cats curl on the couch

add extra quilts to the bed

turn the water on

just a trickle

fill a few jugs with standby water

fill the kerosene lamps

stack waiting books by the rocker

Settle in for winter

Photo from January 2010

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

A Frugal Life and Toothpaste

I never really think about the fact that we live a frugal life. It has been a lifelong habit, looking for savings, comparing prices, buying at thrift stores and cooking from scratch. I suppose it's not surprising since I grew up in a large family where nothing was wasted because money was always tight. But for me, it's nor need necessarily that makes me look for bargains. It's the hunt, the score, and the satisfaction sometimes of putting something once useful back into service.

Which leads me to toothpaste. Not that I make my own; I don't. But I have found that toothpaste is one useful cleaning tool for things besides teeth. For example, you can use toothpaste to smooth out the scratches on a DVD or CD. Simply rub the toothpaste in small circles over the disc, rinse it clean, dry with a soft cotton rag (t-shirts or old hankies work great), and that's it. If you have a DVD that sticks (it happens a lot with movies we check out from the library) this may well cure the problem.

Toothpaste is also great for cleaning white leather tennis shoes. Scrub it in with a brush, rinse and dry. Then use whatever product you like to condition the leather again. It's awesome around the soles; I keep an old toothbrush to scrub the creases and seams.

I use toothpaste to remove stains on cloth too; it's my desperation measure and it sometimes works. I wet the item rub in the toothpaste and scrub gently. Then wash as normal. It also works on stains on glass and china items.

I bet there are uses for toothpaste that I have yet to discover. Do you know any?

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Storytelling: Attention Local Region Readers!

To all my blog friends in the region of Southeast Ohio and western West Virginia (and any of you looking for a little weekend trip):

Fun times ahead! I will be performing this coming Saturday night at ArtsWest Theater in Athens, Ohio. Appearing with me is the group Wormz and the Decomposers and Thomas Burnett of the Appalachian Ohio Storytelling Project. The show starts at 7:00pm and combines two art forms that dance well together: storytelling and music.

About Wormz and the Decomposers, from their website at ReverbNation: 

"Nestled in the Appalachian foothills of Athens, Ohio, singer/songwriter Megan Wormz Bihn meets mandolin madman Adam Graham and bass lady Dawn Graham. Three part harmonies and mandolin breakouts weave around lyrics inspired by a raw love for the land and it's people. Together they offer a playful dance of personal stories, journeys, passions, and beautiful connections to the natural world.

Living a vagabond lifestyle, Wormz has been writing and performing live since 2006 around campfires, in coffee shops, at festivals, in desert squat towns, and in living rooms around the country. She started playing with Adam in 2009 and released the album Little Birdie in summer of 2011. Dawn joined the band earlier that year, and the trio is currently working on their next full-length album due out in early 2013." (photo from ReverbNation.com)

Thomas Burnett is the founder of the Appalachian Ohio Storytelling Project. His mission is to preserve and promote stories and storytelling in the Appalachian region of Ohio, and his love is the combination of stories and music based in our rich Appalachian heritage and culture. 

If you're a blog reader, you know my background; if you are new to my blog, you can read about me on the About Granny Sue tab and the A Little About Me tab above. I am excited about being part of the show at ArtsWest with these performers and I know it's going to be a rollicking good time.

Tickets are available from me or Thomas Burnett or at the door. I hope to see some of you there!



Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

The Storyteller

The school visit today was all that I wanted it to be: well planned, well received, a joyful, thoughtful sharing of stories and songs with over 500 children, parents and teachers. Days like this affirm what I do. During those weeks when I have no storytelling work I turn my focus to other things, sometimes researching stories, other times working on my antiques booths or working around home. When a performance comes up after a long hiatus, I often think, "Why do I do this? Would it not be easier to just be like other people and clean house and putter in my gardens instead of going out there to tell stories to strangers?"

Each time, I come home realizing that those who were once unknown are strangers no more. I come home filled with the wonder of the impact of a tale told and a song simply sung. I am humbled by the reaction to the stories, and to me, the storyteller. I realize over and over again the importance of sharing stories, of reminding people of the deep pleasure of listening, of the teachings in the old tales. I come home revitalized and determined to continue this once vaulted profession of storytelling--a profession that over the years lost its command of public interest as different forms of media developed and replaced it in the homes and hearts of people.

And yet...when I say "I am a storyteller," when I explain what a storyteller is (so many do not know and think it is only reading to little children), when I say that the stories I tell live in my mind and not on paper, when I sing the ages-old songs and see the delight and sometimes deep emotion induced in my listeners, I feel once again the power in my blood, in my voice.

I am a storyteller. I tell stories. I follow the ancient path of bards, griots, seanachies, and elders. This is who I am, this is what I do.



Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

On the Road Again

This has been a busy storytelling week compared to the rest of this winter. I was in the center of the state on Tuesday, telling stories to students at an elementary school. Tomorrow I will be at another school, this one just one county away, and Saturday evening I'll be telling stories in Athens, Ohio.

It feels good to get back into my storytelling groove. I have two new stories from West Virginia's history that have been going very well, and I have pulled out some that have not been on my list for a while. Stories seem to gain a freshness when they are left to rest for a while;  perhaps time to rest brings more richness and brighter images and the stories seem to have a new energy.

I worked on calls today, lining up summer programs, following up on other storytelling projects and tying up loose ends. It's been a productive day, lots of multitasking and mess but in the end a lot got done.

Now I am off to bed to be fresh for an early start tomorrow. I'll leave you with some pics of this evening's beautiful sunset, a sign, I hope, of a good day to come.

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

Special Offer for Blog Followers Only

Most of you know that I list items for sale on eBay and books for sale on Amazon. This offer is for those of you who are followers of this blog as a thank you for being loyal readers:

If you are a follower of this blog, and buy any item from my eBay store or from one of my booths, I will include one of my storytelling CDs absolutely free. Just email me or message me on Facebook or on eBay that you are a follower and I will be sure to pack the CD in with your order.

This offer is good until May 31, 2013.

You can find my books on Amazon here; my eBay items are listed here.

Happy shopping!

Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

The Right Pot (Bowl, Platter, Plate) for the Job

Do you have certain pots, pans or dishes that you use specifically for one thing? Not that you couldn't use another pot or plate for the job. But some things just seem to be made for specific uses, at least in my kitchen.

Take, for example, my big, deep Griswold #10 skillet. This boy (I'm sure it's a he) has seen better days. The bottom is pitted, probably from being left outside in the weather, or filled with water for an extended period of time (not by me but by its former owner). That doesn't stop it from being a most useful pan, just like my wrinkles don't make me ready to discard either. This is my spaghetti sauce pan. I use it occasionally for other things, but when it's time to make spaghetti, down comes the old Griswold. When I got it some guy (had to be a guy) has greased it with, guess what? Grease--not the kind you find in the kitchen, but the kind you find in the garage. It took a lot of cleaning to get that mess straightened up.

A small round cast iron pan with a bail handle is my fried apple pan. It's just the right size, heats perfectly and the handle stays fairly cool in the cooking process. It also has a lid, so the apples can be moved to the back of the stove and stay warm while I finish cooking breakfast. This one is also my white sauce pan because I can keep the sauce from scorching in this pan but don't have the same luck with my stainless saucepans.

The gray granite pan is my soup pot. It's not the only pot I use for soup but when I am making a small batch this is my go-to pan. I just like the way the soup looks in it, homey and comfy and old-timey.

Then there is the piecrust bowl. I have had this stainless bowl and two smaller ones like it since I was about 19, I think. The large one is just right for mixing piecrust and also for making biscuits. I like the ring grip on its side that allows me to hang it with the pots.

The 10" cast iron skillet is the jack-of-all-trades, isn't it? My favorite use for it, besides cooking bacon, is to make grilled cheese sandwiches (which it did just before I took this photo, and gave me the idea for this post). The bread toasts evenly and slowly, allowing the cheese inside the bread to melt nicely.

My big stainless skillet is the saute pan. I like it for rice dishes where the veggies are sauteed and then the rice added. I also like it for making pancakes because I can fit a lot in this pan at one time.

The smaller stainless pan is the perfect fried-egg pan. A quick spray with olive oil and the eggs cook beautifully and slide out easily. Beside it is the small copper-bottomed saucepan I like for boiling eggs-just right for 4 eggs for our morning breakfast. And under it is one of the best pans you'll ever use to make cornbread. It makes crisp, light sticks shaped like corn and oh so delicious.

What's your favorite pan, and what do you use it for?


Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.

When I Learned to Cook

Do you remember when you first learned to cook?

If you are like me, the learning took place over quite a few years, beginning as a child of about nine when my sister Judy and I began experimenting with making desserts. We had helped our mother make Christmas cookies and fruitcake but that summer we wanted to try cooking all by ourselves. We made Floating Islands first as I recall, a thin, pale yellow custard with a dob of meringue floating on top and sprinkled with nutmeg. We then learned to make meringues, whipping eggs whites and sugar to stiff peaks, adding vanilla and food coloring and baking them to a golden brown. We went on to make cakes, scones and cookies before we became teenagers and our training took a new turn: cooking meals for our very large family of 13 children.

By the time I was a teenager, Mom had begun to have some serious health issues. When I was in eighth grade, she had to be in the hospital for a six-week stay. It was up to Judy and me to take care of the house and do the cooking. We managed it by taking off from school, alternately missing days so that while one was in school, the other was home, cleaning, doing laundry and cooking. When the rest of the family came home, they had work to do too: bringing in and putting away laundry, washing dishes, and helping get dinner on the table.

Today such absence from school would not be tolerated but back then in the 1960's no one objected much. We kept our grades up, making the honor roll so I suppose there was no reason for concern. I remember that I missed over 40 days of school that year as I learned instead some complicated home management.

When I married at 17, I thought I knew how to cook but I soon discovered that cooking for 15 and cooking for two are vastly different. My recipes were mostly inexpensive, hearty, and used very little meat because meat was expensive and Mom had taught us to make the most of any meat we used. My first husband, on the other hand, was Texas-raised and thought a meal meant meat, potatoes and an optional vegetable. I learned to broil steaks, fry chicken and bake potatoes. I tried making my first pies, using a piecrust mix and instant pudding, and found a recipe for something called Bavarian that used Cool Whip and Jello. I puttered around my tiny pre-World War II apartment in Fairlington, Virginia and loved the view from its window, overlooking huge oaks and the winding road up which my husband would travel on his way home.

After a year of marriage and the birth of our first son we found a little house we could afford to buy. We had $1500 to put down--can you imagine doing that today? The kitchen in this house was even more basic than the apartment kitchen, although it was a little larger. This house was a log cabin that had been covered on the exterior with smooth stucco, and on the inside with poorly installed drywall. We tore our the drywall to expose the round logs, put up a few shelves, painted the homemade cabinets, put in a dutch door that opened in the middle to swing open at the top while the bottom stayed closed. That was about the extent of our renovations to the kitchen but I loved that kitchen too--it opened out onto a porch that ran the length of the back of the house, and overlooked the Occoquan River far below. In winter I could see the water sparkling through the trees between my house and the water; in spring the water could still be glimpsed through young green trees but in summer I only had the memory of seeing the water. ( The photo at left was taken in December 1973--I was holding baby Aaron, and Derek is beside me; Jon on the left and oldest son George on the right, ex-hubby in background. On the mantle is the coffee grinder I still use today, and we still have the old crock too).

After the birth of our second son less than a year after we moved, I began to experiment more with cooking. One beautiful spring day I took out a book that had been a wedding present, Fine Old Old New England Recipes, and found a recipe for bean soup. Believe it or not, I do not remember ever having eaten any kind of bean soup except split pea. I followed the recipe and made the soup. The heavenly aroma filled the kitchen and spilled out the door into the soft spring air. That same day, I attempted my first fruit pie--apple. This time I did not use packaged pie crust mix--my cookbook had a recipe for making pastry and a recipe for Deep Dish Apple Pie.

Both recipes worked. When my husband came home I spread a cloth over a table on the porch and we ate our dinner where we could smell the sweet blossoms on our plum tree (that never had any plums) and enjoy the greening of the world around us. I remember the spicy sweet smell of the pie and the rich heartiness of the soup.

I also remember how very happy I was on that day in my kitchen, wearing my apron and following the recipes so carefully as I mixed and rolled and chopped and baked. I remember the pretty curtains I had hand-sewn, fluttering in the breeze coming in the kitchen window. But mostly I remember the feeling of supreme satisfaction at having successfully made such good food all by myself. I was hooked at the moment on cooking from scratch and I have never left that path. It was no historic day; no one but me probably remembers the pie or the soup and yet it is one that stays in my memory as golden moment, a treasured memory of scents and sights and contentment.

That is how I learned to cook. How about you? Do you remember your early cooking experiences?


Copyright 2012 Susanna Holstein. All rights reserved. No Republication or Redistribution Allowed without attribution to Susanna Holstein.