Rain, Fire, and Ramblings

63 this morning and muggy. I could hear the highway 4 miles away, which always means rain, and it proved true again as we had some nice rain midday and more expected later. What bliss. We were already watering again.

One of my new roses bloomed this weekend. I love this color. It has a sweet scent too.

We had a nice firepit evening yesterday. It is a small thing, but an hour or two by the fire, watching the night fall, is as relaxing as anything I can think of. Especially when your companion is your best friend and your partner in crime.

Just peaceful.

It was good to have that time by the fire, because this is going to be the kind of week I do not like. I had a doctor's appointment this morning, need to get blood work done Wednesday,  another appointment on Thursday--on my birthday, no less!--and then one more on Monday. All are different doctors,  and it is partly my fault because I rescheduled some of them from the original dates. But still. The good news is that two are routine followup, and the third is to continue trying to resolve my stomach issues. Thankfully that problem has eased up considerably for the whole past 2 months. I guess I still need to make sure that whatever it was is actually done with.

So that leaves Tuesday and Friday with no planned trips away from home. And the weekend too, of course.  Somewhere in there I will have to restock my booths, finish up at least one furniture project, can beets and put up cabbage and broccoli. And string-trim and weed and pick and put up peas.

Yeah, I don't think all that is going to get done.

I was listening to public radio Saturday and on the show Wait Wait Don't Tell Me they were joking about retired people always watching The Price is Right TV show. I guess assuming that we retirees have nothing else to do? 

If you are retired, do you watch that show? We don't have TV service at our house so we don't watch any TV, period.  And we sure don't lack for things to do. Actually, almost every retired person I know has either taken up a different profession, gone to work at their old place of employment either part-time,  as a contractor or consultant, or has started a small business of their own.

For example, one friend is a consultant for the FBI department where he used to work; another went back part-time in land procurement for energy company rights of way, yet another us a cybersecurity consultant for a government agency. One was a nurse and went back full-time after a couple years, and a few have gone back to, or taken up, teaching after being begged to work but various schools. Others, like me started a small side business. Even my son who retired at 48 has started a small trucking business.

I see other retired acquaintances working at the grocery store, the drug store, even at Walmart. Some dived deep into volunteerism or became much more active in their churches. 

So, retired and with nothing to do but watch daytime TV? Do you know anyone like that? I cannot think of a soul in my circle of acquaintances that matches that description!

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

Just Thinking

60 and cloudy today after a hot sunny day yesterday. I can hear the highway 4 miles away, which usually means rain is on the way. The peonies are beginning to bloom. This one is my favorite, new in the garden last summer. 

 

We had a good visit with our granddaughter.  She arrived at dinnertime, just in time for pork chops in gravy, baked potatoes, salad and asparagus fresh from the garden, and cobbler made from last year's frozen cherries.  Grace helped pick the lettuce, and remarked that it was the first time she had seen how radishes grow. 

Isn't it funny the things we take for granted, like pulling radishes? Larry and I were talking the other day about how few people really know much about the plants around them, or about wild edibles, or how to grow their own food. On the radio tbd other day a lady was explaining to the shows host about the different sound hens make when one lays an egg. The host was astonished...and so was I, that it needed describing. I take that happy squawking for granted, and I suppose I thought people knew about that. 

On the train last weekend I noted various wildflowers we were seeing along the way---wilf geranium, buttercup, wood sorrel,  a lady's slipper, valerian, and others. I don't know latin names for them,  as some of my friends do, but I  knew many of the plants by their common names. 

Interest in the natural world took a jump during the pandemic, as more people discovered the pleasure of being outside. Do you think this interest will wain, or will younger generations want to know about plants, the names of trees and birds? 

I have seen, as I am sure you have too, many more gardens being planted and this year more people getting chickens. It gives me hope that the old ways are not yet dead. But if food prices go down again, will people give up on the work of raising their own? I have to admit, I snicker at some of the very urban and fancy coops for sale! Some posh chickens! The same for gardens with all the raised beds, trellises,  etc, although I think some of this will certainly make gardening easier, if more costly.  

I suppose time will tell if these trends continue. For us, it will remain the same as it has for the past 50 years. Our old ways have become new, and in some cases, new-fangled ways.

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

Sunday Ramblings

43 this morning, and chilly all day. Rain in the night and morning but now clear, sunny and windy. And cold! We are supposed to have a low of 38 but will probably be warmer than that on my hill. The green is incredible right now though, even though it is chilly out. This is the first part of our driveway, which is about a third of a mile long in total.

Would you believe we were in bed by 9pm last night?? That's not unusual for Larry, but pretty much unheard of for me. I guess I was just worn out from not sleeping well all week. We didn't wake til 8:30 this morning. Crazy!

I worked inside mostly today, since it was not nice out. I also did some cleaning behind Larry in the furniture workroom. He is so messy, it just floors me. I have to wonder who he thinks will pick up the tools, hardware, bits of wood and trash he scatters in his wake. I have tried to tell him his mother doesn't live here but apparently he doesn't believe me. It's a good thing I love that man, LOL! 

We are expecting lunch visitors Tuesday, so I did some housework in preparation. Nothing like company to make me do the dreaded dusting. I mopped, waxed and cleaned up my ebay room, and began planning what to cook. Something simple, I decided: homemade chicken noodle soup and cheesy biscuits, salad and I am going to try making a carrot cake. It will be my son's birthday and if he makes it back from a trip he will be coming along with one of our friends. Carrot cake is his favorite so...wish me luck!

I did get outside this evening and potted some tomato seedlings.  They are quite small so won't be ready to go in the ground until early June at the soonest. I have other bigger plants, thankfully, so these will be a late crop. 

Right now I am cooking down pokeweed to pit in the freezer. It must be boiled in 3-5 waters to be safe for eating. It is well worth the effort though.

I have been listening curiously to all the reports about the upcoming Coronation. The last was before I was born, so this is quite an event for the English. It seems that here in the USour inaguation ceremonies and celebrations are getting close to the same, although without all the tradition, ritual and history of the event in England. Being a "young" country precludes that, but I do wish ours had more, well, class. Rock stars and actors just aren't the same as royalty. Not that I want to live under the British form of government! So I should just be content, right?

Tomorrow is Beltane, the first day of Summer by the old Celtic tradition. I think actually that's nearer the mark because by June 21 it is high summer here. So remember in the morning to wash your face in the morning dew, and of course, say "rabbit, rabbit, rabbit" for luck!

The view from the porch today. It is ever-changing at this time of year.

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

This and That

72 this morning. Hot. Humid. 

Just some random thoughts today, which I'll intersperse with a few photos from around the flower gardens.

I didn't like the way these black petunias looked, so added some pink and white to brighten them up.

The weather has continued on its July way, but honestly, it hasn't seemed as bad this year as usual. I've said before that July is my least favorite month, but this year it's been bearable. Perhaps because we've had more rain than usual, which gave us a some cooler days uand relief? Or because, since the garden is later coming in this year, I'm not in the hot kitchen, canning? The one thing I do love about July is all the birthdays in our family: 3 granddaughters, our youngest son, and Larry's older sister. So many good reasons to celebrate.

                                                    

You know, since being retired, I've noticed something that never occurred to me before, probably because I was at work during the day. But during the workday hours, there are so many senior citizens out and about--at the stores, the bank, roadside rest areas, library, etc. It's one of those obvious things that you just don't think about, but of course this is when we'd all be out, isn't it? Weekends, of course, all ages are out and busy, but during the weekdays it's us old folks doing business, traveling, and so on. 

It has made me realize the impact we have on the economy. In past times, there were housewives out during the day and that's still true but not nearly to the same extent. And there are shift workers, but again, the preponderance of people in stores and on the road in the daytime is seniors. Think of all the month we/they spend--I bet there are some places, like the popular Bob Evans restaurants, that would find it difficult to stay in business without the oldsters. Not that this is an important or original thought, for I am sure AARP plays on the importance of the senior dollar in their lobbying efforts. But now I'm noticing, and it's interesting.

                                            

We are still getting out in the gardens early to get some of the work done before it gets hot. I do love these mornings. The air is so soft, even if I am still sweating at 70 degrees because of the humidity. But the light is just different, there is deep shade, and the scent of flowers and herbs lingers. We've been doing a little watering but nothing like in past Julys. The seeds I put out last week are all up, and I planted a few marigolds here and there in places that need color. We were dismayed to discover that the grass had grown so quickly from the rain that it was in the electric fence before we knew it, which grounded the current, so the deer got in and ate my lima beans. My lovely, lovely, lima beans. They were just doing so well and it looked like we would have a good crop. Now, we will be lucky to get a mess or two. 

                                                

But the beans Larry planted are up and thriving, and he picked some of the tiny first plantings and dug some new potatoes because he is craving one of his favorite dishes, beans and new potatoes cooked together. They're on the stove as I type. Poor man was so desperate he even snapped the beans. And look at size of this potato--they have done exceptionally well this year.

                                                

I harvested the beet seeds which had dried nicely outside, and I think I'll try planting some of them soon and see if I can get them to over-winter like they did last year. We had late beets in the fall, early beets and greens in the spring, and then I left the rest to go to seed. We shall see how they do.

                                            

I was disappointed that the seeds sold to me as rhubarb seeds are actually rhubarb CHARD, not rhubarb. I was so excited to actually grow my ow plants and just babied those things, but duh. Ah well, they'll be good greens.

Yesterday was a work day at the antique mall, filling in for the owner whose mother is very ill. It was a nice break and I got a lot done while I was there, but it sure tires me out to work a full day. I'm good for nothing by the time I get home. Usually we go in on Fridays to restock, but since I am working again Sunday we will stay home and work on furniture projects instead. We have several in the works, and need to get them out of the house.

And now that I mention it, I better get back to work. See you tomorrow, I hope.

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

Keeping Time

72 this morning, with 92% humidity. Yuck. Slowly improving as the day goes on, but hotter.

Big Ben under repair, London, August 2019

The kitchen clock decided to quit working yesterday, and the bedroom clock's battery seems to have gone on the fritz at the same time. So knowing what time it is today is not as easy as it usually is, since these are the main two timekeepers we look at as we pass through the house.

It's quite odd, really, not knowing the time. I have noticed in the past that I almost have an obsession with the time, always keeping an eye on the clock as I go about my day. Once in my office at work I had 4 clocks. Four. And that wasn't counting the one on the computer, or my watch. I pared that down as soon as I noticed it, and quit wearing a watch. What was I thinking? That by clock-watching I could slow down time? Get more done? Be on time for everything? I don't know, really, but it did make me pause, and take stock of what I was doing. One result of that was early retirement--obviously, if I was so pressured that I needed four clocks, it was time to go.

But old habits die hard. Here at home I had clocks in every room for a while, even in the bathroom. Honestly, it's a wonder I didn't have them in the closets. I've been getting rid of some of them, and leaving others that I just like without batteries so they're only decorative. 

Today I find myself still glancing at the kitchen wall where the clock was--and noticing the perfect circle left there when we took the clock down, a good sign that repainting is in our near future. But I look for the clock every time I walk through the kitchen. Maybe I haven't changed that much after all.

Which makes me wonder, what if I just took out all the clocks? How would it be to get up when I felt like it, go to bed the same way, and go through the day just doing what I wanted or needed to do with no clock to tell me if I was taking too long, needed to be doing something else, or whatever? Surely there was a time when people didn't have clocks and only lived their lives by the sun and moon, light and dark? What if we did that now? Are we all so driven by clocks that we wouldn't know how to act without them? 

It's an alluring idea, I admit. Could I do it? I don't know. There are those events/responsibilities in life that require us to be somewhere at a specific time, sure. But as a retired person, how often is that? A few times a week at most, if that. Maybe the kitchen clock will not be replaced. I would probably go on looking at that circle on the wall for a long while. I bet that in London, while Big Ben has been being repaired and restored, people still looked for his face every day, just out of habit.

Meanwhile, I've kind of enjoyed this "timeless" day. I might just have to make a new habit of it.

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

Cold, Cold, Cold

12 this morning and clear.

It was an icy, icy morning, and a cold day, never getting above 21 degrees. We ventured out for the first time in a week and had no trouble as the State had cindered our road at last, and by the time we came home, they'd plowed it too. Perhaps now UPS will feel brave enough to bring the packages I've been waiting for all week? I kinda doubt it. The weather is supposed to stay very cold for quite a while, I hear, and my trip south and west is looking better and better.

We worked on our booth today, adding new things and doing a little rearranging. I didn't take photos but will do so when I work on Sunday. 

No other real news, except feeling sad for two of my sisters, who each lost a friend this week. As we get older, we see more and more friends pass, and it's not easy. As I've heard before, you better get tougher as you get older--along with the "golden years" comes a lot of pain and heartache. There is also much joy too, and a deeper appreciation of all life has to offer, even if some of it is difficult going. The thing is, we have to remember that, and look for the good and beautiful and silly and touching whenever sadness seems to overwhelm us. 

I have days when the loss of my son Jon weighs heavily on me, when every thought seems to recall him and the pain of losing him. Those times, I have to make myself look for joy and find peace in the little things that still make my life good, that bring smiles and laughter to me. And to remember the best things about him, the best times we had together, and the times that made me laugh--and appreciate deeply that I had him for those 39 1/2 years. Some mothers are never so lucky.

Tonight we are snug and warm. The fire is going, the faucets are dripping, and the dogs are cozy in the workroom--after tripping over Otis the black Lab last night and taking a fall, I have had to sadly decide that they cannot come inside any more. I have too many friends who have been seriously hurt tripping over their pets, and even one who lost her life because of such a fall. I do not want a broken hip or other bad injury, so the dogs, who are outside dogs anyway, will to stay out in the workroom from now on. I will miss their company in the evenings, but they always want to go back out after a few hours, so I won't feel bad about their banishment. Another facet of getting older, and the decisions we have to make.

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

Impressions

43 and sunny, quicky warming up. 

This morning a small car made its way across our ridge. The exhaust was loud for such a small car; Larry said it sounded like the "cherry bomb" exhausts people used to put on cars in the 60's and 70's. I remember those, noisy buzzy-sounding things. 

Which got me to thinking about impressions. We humans seem to like to impress each other, one way or another. Loud exhausts, trucks jacked up a mile high, bumper stickers proclaiming everything from peace to war as if the drivers were trying to shout their personal beliefs to everyone they pass. Stick people decals to denote family size, wild paint jobs--our automobiles become statement pieces.

Then there's hair. Yesterday we saw two women with flaming pink-red hair; another with rainbow hair, a guy with all the hair shaved off one side of his head, another with a man-bun. Hair style, hair color, or no hair at all--statements to our individuality. Make-up too--most women wear it, and some are real artists with its application, but there is the extreme element here as well, and even some guys get into that. 

I could go into tattoos, but you know what I mean. All this effort makes me wonder why so many try so hard to stand out, to be different in appearance or impression, to announce their style and beliefs so blatantly so that we can hardly miss them. Sure, for many it's simply personal preference--they like their hair cut a certain way, or see their tatts as art. Which many are, actually. 

But still. Can anyone really enjoy it when their car sounds like a buzz saw? Or is it that they just enjoy making people stare, jump, frown, cover their ears? Anything to get a reaction. I'm not tryig to be judgmental here, but human behavior interests me, particular the many ways we try to impress each other.

When I look at the rest of the animal world, I don't see anything like this behavior. Sure, the males have their mating routines that can be pretty flamboyant, but I don't see them plucking out their feathers or fur, or dipping them in mud or something to be a different color. They simply are what they are.

I admit I've never felt the urge to be the peacock in the chicken yard. My makeup and hair styling is minimal at best, my style of dress is way behind any fashion trends, and my van is identical to thousands of others of the same make and color. I have no tattoos and never wanted hair any color other than what it is naturally. Even when storytelling I didn't wear costumes; I might dress just nough differently from the audience to make it clear I was the performer, but even that made me uncomfortable if I had to go somewhere else in my "storytelling clothes." I guess I am the opposite extreme of what I'm talking about, the one who prefers to be camoflaged in a crowd. 

Different strokes for different folks, right? Maybe the world would be a duller place if everyone tried to fade into the woodwork. And those of us who write, well, we choose this medium to express ourselves, so maybe it's the same thing as having red-red hair, or a radical car? 

Humans. We are certainly an interesting and baffling group, are we not?

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

Covid Journal, Day 288: A New Year

Rain and 36. Almost cold enough to snow but not quite. Perhaps just as well, because we'd be buried up if all this rain was snow.

Good afternoon, and Happy New Year to all of you!

It's a rainy start. I'd have preferred snow, but that's okay. We have a road trip tomorrow, possibly, so it might be better if the roads are only wet and not icy.

One good thing to report: apparently we are in the clear virus-wise. It's been about 6 days since we had visitors, and we're both well. I thought it would be okay as everyone who came for Christmas was either mostly self-isolated, recently tested or had already had the virus. I am still basking in the memory of their visits. 

New Year's Eve was a much quieter affair. Larry went to bed early, so it was me and the dogs waiting for midnight. I watched The Bishop's Wife, a favorite Christmas movie that I'd missed somehow this year, and then put in New Year's Eve, another favorite, while skimming Facebook and browsing seed catalogs. A few minutes before midnight I woke Larry up so we could see the year in together. Then our youngest called for a Facetime chat. He'd been celebrating at home with his wife, daughter, and mother-in-law, with good Venezulan food, music, dancing and wine. It sounds like they had a great at-home party.

We started today with a breakfast of homemade waffles, blueberries and raspberries, and bacon. Leisurely, sipping coffee, and reflecting on the past year. We know we are lucky. We're grateful that we did not face the hard issues so many have had to deal with--loss of paychecks, jobs, homes, and worst of all, loved ones who died with the virus.For so many people this has been a difficult year. Living in the country and in an isolated location, and being retired have protected us from the worst of this past year. With that gratitude comes guilt, though, and I know many of you have also felt this--because we are fine--so far--while so many are suffering. Such thoughts keep us humble and also keep us from being complacent, because at any time something could happen to completely change our situation. 

This year has made me even more appreciative of the small things. Things like a call from a friend, a cardinal on the feeder, coffee in my favorite cup--I am paying more attention. And also appreciating the time that was suddenly freed up when my storytelling and writing events were canceled for the entire year. I have used that time, perhaps not as wisely as I might have, but in ways that have been satisfying personally. I've read novels, more than I have in years. I spent more time in the gardens, and raised my own plants once again. I put up more food, more than we can possibly use. I've been cleaning the overlooked corners of our home, and sorting and downsizing a little, selling several pieces of funiture from the house and clearing out drawers and closets and storage bins. I have more to do, but I've made a good dent. Probably no one will notice the difference but me, and that's okay.

We've also managed to reduce the backlog of furniture and totes full of inventory by focusing on selling what we have, and I've done more ebay sales than ever. So stockpiles are starting to dwindle; we've given away a load or two to another furniture refurbisher, and taken a dozen or more totes of stuff that hasn't sold to an online seller. Larry has been cleaning out the garage so there is now space for his tractor to park inside, and built a little lean-to shed for his riding mower. 

I met a personal goal to lose 5 pounds, which I have to admit I lost and regained several times during the year--but I think I can say now that it's finally officially lost. Larry continues to fight his demon, and I know that battle will be ongoing, but at least we've made a tentative, if stumbling, start to getting some help. Some things take time, and take even longer now that access to medical help is more problematic.

I guess, as I read back over this post, that we've concentrated on getting our lives more organized. Not just Larry and me, but people everywhere seem to be doing the same thing. Once the hurdy-gurdy of our usual routine suddenly stopped, we stopped too, and took stock, of our priorities and of ourselves. It's funny, but this wasn't the post I intended to write--I guess it was the one my fingertips and my mind pushed to the front, so here we are. I'll spend today writing out seed orders, maybe have a nap, and then cook our dinner of roast venison with mushroom sauce, wild rice, cabbage with money in it, and blackeye peas. Maybe we'll get some turnips from the garden too, as it's always special to have something fresh from the garden on the table at New Year's. 

To start the year on a hopeful note, here's a group I recently discovered, The Fisherman's Friends. Who can possibly be down after listening to this?

All the best to all of you that have persevered with me over the months and years. May your new year be healthy, safe, peaceful and joy-filled.

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

Covid Journal, Day 60: 2 Months Later

42 and chilly, overcast this morning. No rain in the forecast, but it's not a pretty day. Perhaps the sun will show himself later in the day.

We have been sheltering at home for two months now. Some thoughts about these past days:

1. I've been off our land about 10 times in the past 2 months: 3 foraging trips along our road; 3 medical-related trips; 1 trip to our booth in Marietta, and 3 to our Ravenswood booths; and our visit on Sunday to the wetland. I haven't been in a store or any other building except the antique malls. Larry's been out more than I have--two trips to the grocery store, and 3 to the feed store, two to fill gas cans for the tractor and mower, along with a couple rides out to a neighbor's to drop some things off. I think he misses going out more than I do. He wears mask and gloves, carries wipes to clean gas pump handles, his card, etc.

2. We have been out so little our gas points at Kroger have not even reached 20 in two months. We've saved a lot of money on gas, and put very few miles on our van, which is good since it's got over 250,000 miles on it now.

3. I've learned a lot about ordering online, and about price-gouging. There are some not-so-nice people and companies out there. But it has been fun to find ways to work around going to the grocery store.

4. I'm reading more--whole books instead of dipping in here and there for research. I've even enjoyed reading novels again, a pleasure I lost while working on my degrees. Even though I worked in a library, the only novels I "read" were the ones I listened to on my commute. I've ordered several books, read them and mailed them off to friends and sisters. I still enjoy a good biography more than most novels, and especially like diaries of ordinary people.

5. We cook more. I've always cooked from scratch, but I'm making more things that we were usually buying--noodles, bread, even blending my own herb teas. I have always loved to make things myself and am glad to have time again for this.

6. I'm paying more attention to foraging and harvesting. Again, things I've always done, but sometimes I have been too busy to catch things at the right time. There's a satisfaction in seeing jars of dried herbs, and bags of frozen greens, or making wild salads. I've missed making some jellies I might have made but I don't have a lot of sugar on hand so I've opted to skip making jellies right now. We have plenty in the cellar that needs to be used.

7. I have enjoyed reading about what friends are doing, seeing many returning to old ways of doing things--making bread, drying laundry outside, getting out their sewing machines. I've especially liked all the sharing of ideas, failures, successes. We're all in this together.

8. Quiet. The world is so much quieter. Except, of course, that kids are out of school and in this rural area that means a lot of them are out on their four-wheelers, motorcycles, etc, and some of them are obnoxiously loud. But most days it's just so quiet, no jets overhead.

9. Rest. I go to bed earlier, have even taken a rare nap, take more time on the porch, having coffee with Larry, or reading in the evenings. The pressure to plan programs, learn stories, research, etc is off.

10. Talk. Visits online with family, phone calls, all have become more frequent, and conversations seem to be leisurely and no one minds being on the phone for long talks. Instead of quick texts, we're having real conversations.

My third son calls often these days, now that he's single again, and we often talk for half and hour or more. Yesterday he said he hoped that this pandemic changes our outlook on how we buy our food, and how the nation as a whole looks at food distribution. Maybe there will be a return to small farms, and more people seeking local sources? I sure hope so. I know I am re-thinking how I buy, and where. While we raise a lot of our vegetables, eggs, and herbs, and provide most of our own meat, we could do better. Don't I wish dairies could sell directly to consumers again! Might this be a change we'll see? I hope so.

What things have you noticed that have changed in your life, either for the better or worse? Do you think the pandemic will change your habits in the future? Do you think my son might be right and the small family farm will return?



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

Covid Journal, Day 45: What's for dinner?

51 this morning, cloudy but sun later on, with a good breeze. More rain is on the way tomorrow, they say. So I hope we get in the garden this evening to plant a few things; right now Larry is mowing grass because that also needs to be done before it rains.

Can you guess what was for dinner today?

Ham, grated cheddar, sauteed onions and mushrooms, spinach, eggs...

If you said quiche, you'd be right! I've had it on my mind to make since I had a couple frozen pie shells tucked away. So delicious, especially with a dollop of our homemade salsa on top and a side of asparagus fresh from the garden.

We realize we're lucky. We have hens that keep us well supplied with eggs, a freezer full of a variety of meats and veggies, and a cellar full of jars of goodness. As I listened to the concerns about the nation's meat supply, though, I worried about how people will manage. Especially since it also sounds like the price of produce will be going up because of a lack of workers to harvest the fields. All of this could make a person feel smug if they're stocked up and prepared, but it just makes me worry about those who can't grow or hunt for their own food.

Now we're wondering, should we fence in "the flat" and get a calf to raise for beef? We're not big beef eaters, preferring venison, but if pork will be in short supply, maybe it's an option. We'd planned to go in on raising a couple hogs with a neighbor, but right now the price of baby pigs is $100 or more each. That's way too high to be worth the time, feed and energy to raise them--or is it? Maybe it will be a small price when meat skyrockets later on.

Sober thoughts on this beautiful afternoon. Our tummies are full and it seems silly to worry about the what ifs, but maybe even sillier not to?

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

Covid Journal, Day 41: Three New Things

51 and pouring rain this morning. It did let up later so that now Larry is out there moving blackberry plants. This is our third year to try to establish a new blackberry patch. The first one was behind the garage and the canes got so big they literally grew over the garage roof. So we've been trying to get rid of that patch and start a new one. I think the ones we've moved the past two years succumbed to his weedeater, actually. He is contrite, and this time putting hard plastic collars around the new plants so perhaps they'll survive. Cross your fingers! He is deadly with that weedeater, apparently managed to also kill off the two new plum trees planted last year. Lesson learned--no more orchard plants will go in the ground unless they have a protective collar.

Even with the rain, it is still beautiful outside. The green is the kind that almost leaves me breathless, and I never want to stop looking about me at the wonder of it.

A friend got me to thinking about what new things we are doing since this pandemic. What have we changed about our lifestyle, or doing that we didn't do before?

It was surprisingly difficult to come up with answers because our way of life typically does not involve much visiting, going to concerts, or shopping. But I did think of a few things.
nd
1) I have begun washing the ziplock freezer and storage bags for re-use. I never did it before, and felt a little guilty about it. But I reasoned that we conserve on so many levels that this was one thing I could just not do. Now, here I am washing and drying the bags to use again. It seemed like a waste of time before, but we have more time now.

2) I have read a novel! I rarely if ever read novels, but I read Olive Kitteredge and surprised myself by enjoying it. I have started a new one called There, There, but I am not sure I like it or the style of writing. I'm only two chapters in so it's too soon to judge. Violence and cities are not topics that interest me, I have to say. But this one, a story about Native Americans living in Oakland, California is certainly different. I'll give it that.

3) Having hour-long conversations on the phone. Definitely not something I did before, except occasionally with my youngest son. But lately I've had long, slow conversations with not only my sons, but also with sisters and friends. It really is nice. The Zoom family visits online are good, but it's more like just touching base, since there are so many of us on each call. It is wonderful to see everyone's faces and to laugh together. And that, come to think of it, is another new thing--online video visits and workshops. My poetry group is continuing to meet this way too, and it's very productive.

I think that is all that is really new in my activities. Some things I used to do I have taken up again, like making bread and starting my garden plants. I am glad to get back to these things because I have always enjoyed the sense of peace and plenty they gave me. I stopped doing them when life became too busy to keep up with them but now with less time spent on researching and planning presentations, and almost no travel to stock booths or source new inventory, I have more free time. Which makes me really think about whether I want to get back on the merry-go-round that was my life.

How about you? Have you discovered new activities that you like, or even some that you dislike but find that you must do now? Has this strange time in our lives caused you to re-assess what you were doing previously?


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

Three Strangers

from wikipedia

I use a lot of bubblewrap for shipping my ebay sales, but I never thought I'd meet someone who makes it.

On our flight home from Miami a few weeks ago, we had a little time to kill in the airport, so sat down at a restaurant bar for a glass of wine (for me) and a beer (for Larry).

We were between two young people, both busy with their phones, but the young man looked up and smiled at Larry, and that's all it took to get a conversation started.

"I grew up in New York City," he said,  "but I live in Arizona now. I've been here in Fort Lauderdale helping my grandfather remodel a house he bought. Now I'm going to Philly to visit friends."

Larry and the young man talked for a while on topics of all kinds, from Arizona weather, to West Virginia geography. As he stood to leave, the young man shook Larry's hand. "It's been a pleasure, man."

"Me too," Larry said. "I meant to ask, what do you do out there in Arizona?"

"I make bubblewrap," he said with a grin.

On the other side of me the young lady put down her phone and ordered a vegan salad. She commented on how tired she was.

"Have you been traveling a long way?" I asked.

"Oh no, just tired. I've been visiting my boyfriend here. I live in Colombia."

"Really! Were you born there?"

"No, I am going to veterinary school there. That's why I don't eat meat. It seems like if I'm the one who takes care of animal's health and helps them to stay alive, I shouldn't eat them."

That sounded logical to me, although I'd never heard that sentiment before. "So where are you from?"

"I was born and grew up in Aruba. I've lived in the Netherlands and Canada, a few other places. I like the US but wouldn't want to live here, at least not now with the way things are here now. I like moving around anyway, so I'm not sure where I'll end up."

It was time for us to go to our waiting area for our flight, so we said goodbye and safe travels.

On the plane, I sat next to a middle-aged lady from Nicaragua. She grew up there, she said, but moved to New Orleans when she was seventeen. She married a serviceman and they ended up in Michigan, a long way from her beginnings. Now she lives in Florida to take care of her mother, and works at the VA hospital there. She was traveling to Ohio to visit a good friend, and she was dreading the cold weather. After so many years in Michigan, she was glad to be back in a tropical climate.

I think about the young people sometimes, about their joy in life and what they were doing, their willingness to travel and to talk to two people much older and of a different race than them. It was comfortable and interesting.

And I think about the older lady, who looked tired and worn down with care and sadness. But I also remember her smile when we landed. I'd told her what a pilot told us once--that you can tell if the pilot is former Navy because he stops the plane very quickly since Navy pilots are used to landing on aircraft carriers. Sometimes it feels like the plane is tipping forward on its nose, they stop so fast! When we landed, she looked at me with the most beautiful smile.

"So? Navy?"

"Yep" I said, and we both laughed.

Those moments with strangers are what make travel so enjoyable. Not everyone is friendly, of course, and often people are so engrossed in their phones they scarcely notice others around them. But when people just talk with each other, sharing their lives, it creates a bond across lines of all kinds--age, socio-economic, race, religion, sex. We are all just people, trying to make our way as best we can.

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

Quiet Places

We had a little snow yesterday, a disappointing inch or so that is melting off this morning.But new snow has just begun so there is hope that we might get a nice covering.

I enjoy this time of year when snow might keep us housebound. Right now we're housebound anyway while Larry's knee heals, and frankly neither of us mind being shut-ins. It give us time for the simple pleasures of cooking, reading, and listening to music and radio.

Our log room is one of my favorite places in this house. I try to keep it as uncluttered as possible, although I suppose to those of the de-clutter/downsize mind there is still too much stuff. The latest guru on the de-clutter scene advises only what gives you joy. There is nothing in this room that does not give me joy as all of it has been selected for a reason, and all of it has a story.

One of this new expert's pieces of advice is to keep only 30 books--whatever happened to the research that proves raising children, and living, in a print-rich environment is the best recipe for mental growth, understanding and happiness? I guess the "expert" never read it. Lordy, I have 30 cookbooks alone, and I use all of them! I may be old-school, but I prefer learning from a book, not electronic sources.

In the end, we all make our own decisions about what we want to own. For me a warm, cozy environment with simple entertainments like reading and listening close at hand gives me joy. For other,s perhaps, clean, cool, simple lines are their source of happiness. It takes all kinds--but as I have said before, de-cluttering only sends stuff down the pike to be someone else's problem. If we're lucky, it may find a new home, but far more often unwanted items end up in dumps or shipped to some other country to become a problem there, as I discussed in this link. Far better to think hard before buying and avoid the issues of what to so with all our stuff later.

The biggest bookshelf, built in when we
built our house 45 years ago. This photo
is from 8 years ago-the shelf is completely
full today. 

Today will be a reading, listening and cooking day--noodles are already in process, some to be used for dinner today, some dried for later use. I will be using my cookbooks, my kitchen tools, and reading some of the hundreds of books on my shelves. And finding peace and tranquillity in all of these things.


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

Seen and Heard

Some things from the past week:

The apple peeler is top left in this photo.

A man at the antique mall wanted to buy one of my antique apple peelers. He made an offer that was quite low, but it was late in the day on New Year's Eve and I'd had the peeler in my booth for a long time, so I said sure.

Then he wanted to know how and if it worked. One of the clerks at the mall had some apples, so we tried it out. I wish I had a photo of the man's face as the long string of peel fell effortlessly away from the old peeler. 100 years old and it still works like a new one. He left with the peeler and a happy smile.

Larry with his well earned Guinness. 

After working in our booth on New Year's Eve we stopped at the Lafayette Hotel's grill for a quick supper. The place was full of happy people ready to party into the new year. It was fun to be there among them and to touch base with a man we usually see when we stop in there. A middle-aged couple had apparently just gotten married and we taking photos in front of the hotel's large Christmas tree. They weren't like magazine cover photos of wedding couples--they were both a little overweight and had some years on them but they were so happy. They came in and sat down at the bar. I asked the waitress to let us pay for their first drink, and got beautiful smiles and a toast in return. It was a small thing, but I remember when Larry and I were married, and there was no celebration because we had to crowd it into our day off work. It made me happy to be a small part of this couple's joy.

Along the road home the other day, I noticed a car pulled off on the shoulder in an area that's not a good place to stop. I slowed down, as did the other drivers. A woman stood on the opposite bank, tears streaming down her face as she looked at a newly place memorial wreath. I wanted to stop, to comfort her but there was traffic and there was no good place to turn around. Her face is in my mind still. I found out that later that a young woman and her son had wrecked there, and both lost their lives. I will be thinking of them and remembering that grieving woman every time I pass that place.

In the mail today, two poetry books. I am reading and thinking about my workshop week for Allegheny Echoes this coming June, and searching for inspiration in the words of others. This part isn't work at all, it's pure pleasure.

In India, millions of women joined hands in a peaceful protest that stretched for miles and miles. They are protesting the exclusion of menstruating women from a holy temple.

A friend posted in a listserv about trying to clear thousands of books from her brother's apartment. On her way back to her home she took a wrong turn, got sideswiped by a truck and finally ended up in a small community and a garage where they checked out her car--and where they told her they were trying to start a library but needed books and shelves. Already they have moved many, many books, and my friend will be involved in helping set up the library.

Life is full of chance and mischance, is it not? One turn can lead to tragedy, another to serendipidity. Joy can be found at unlikely times in unlikely places, and so can sorrow. And yet we all carry on with hope in our hearts. It is all part of this messy ride called life, and the best we can do is join hands like those women in India and help each through.

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

Thinking of You: The Art of Note Writing

I bought a used book about seashells this week, and while browsing through the pages of beautiful color photos, a little card fell out.

I don't know who sent the card, or who Mammy was, but the simplicity of the card, and the thoughtfulness of its sender touched me. Someone took the time to sit down, write a quick note, and mail it off.

There is no special message in the card, no news, congratulations, sympathy, or holiday greeting. Just a few lines to say hello, ask about Mammy's health and her summer, and send love.

But maybe the message really is special in its simpleness: a note to just say hello, a reminder of love and friendship, a connection to another.

I have received a few notes like this in my life, and each one brought with it a feeling of warmth and tenderness, of feeling remembered and valued by the sender. They brought a smile to my face, even in the hardest and saddest moments I've ever experienced. Most of them I have kept, tucked into my memory boxes for re-reading, and perhaps one day for my sons to read when they sort out my house. The notes are like a talisman, a touchstone to remind me that I matter. That's not to say that I feel like I don't matter; but isn't it comforting to be reminded of that fact?

I admit that I am not a note-sender. I try, and sometimes manage to send one or two off in a year, but I am thinking that perhaps I need to try harder, to just send a simple note to say hello, I love you, you're in my thoughts. My friend and fellow storyteller Adam is so good at this--we get random cards from him and they always make my day. And I blush to say I've seldom returned the favor.

It's the season for holiday cards right now; I get quite a few "virtual" cards these days as people find it simpler to email or Facebook a quick message. I appreciate those too. Mailing cards is time-consuming and for some just too much added expense. I'm still old-school enough to mail the hard copy cards, and this year I will try to write something besides just our names in the cards. It would be a start, at least.

As for Mammy, I hope she is still well, and still basking in the knowledge of being well-loved.

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

When I Buy Flowers

I bought a Christmas cactus today. I haven't had one in years, and I am hoping I don't end up killing this one. I mean, cacti are supposed to be hardy and durable, right? But guess who can kill them. Yep. But I am ever hopeful, and willing to try again. My aloe has survived for a year--but I froze the last aloe I had, so...

My new Christmas cactus, and behind it the begonias I brought in for the second year. Sometimes I can keep them alive all winter. Sometimes.

Every time I buy flowers, I notice the same thing happening: people look at me with my flowers and smile. Every time. Whether it's a bunch og baby's breath or a whole cart full of annuals in the spring or chrysanthemums in the fall, the same reaction is evoked.

I have also notice that the sight of someone carrying or buying flowers seems to relax people who see them with their blooms. It's almost a physical reaction--their shoulders seem to loosen, they slow their pace, and they smile.

What is it about flowers or other plants that causes such a reaction? I know that I do the same thing--I saw a man tonight, big tall guy still in his work clothes, looking in the cut flowers cooler at the store, and I smiled and slowed to see what bunch he might choose (red roses with baby's breath). And when I walked through the store with my cactus, everyone who glanced my way smiled. Their smiles relaxed me. Why is that?

My aloe plants, and a little planter of new succulents I'm trying to grow.

For me, buying flowers is a treat, a reward. I often buy bunches of cut flowers in winter to brighten the house, and I enjoy attanging them in little vases to scatter around the house. In spring I usually vow not to buy so many plants--and end up spending several hundred dollars every year, filling carts at the store so full I can barely see over the greenery. In summer I pick flowers from my gardens for bouquets for the house, and in the fall I again fill carts, this time with mums and sometimes pansies. Flowers are just a year-round habit, and I probably spend more on them than smokers do on cigarettes. I think I probably get the same kind of satisfaction and contentment from my habit as the smokers do from theirs.

Apparently flowers have the same impact on others that the blossoms do on me--but the majority of people don't buy them like I do. Is it because it seems like a waste of money? Or is it something else? The smiles I get with my bunches and cartsful seem to indicate that people love the idea of flowers, so why do they deny themselves the pleasure? I guess I understand when it comes to garden plants--that means a lot of work and care and not everyone has the time or inclination for that. But cut flowers or succulents seem easy enough.

More new succulents and a start from the larger aloes. Wish me luck!

Whatever the reason, I hope I will always be able to afford my habit.And right now I am hoping my Christmas cactus survives my neglect and fills with blooms this winter. Even just once would be reward enogh for me.

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

November

"O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn's being.

Thou, from whose unseen presence the leaves dead

Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing."

-  Percy Bysshe Shelley

 There was a time when I dreaded the coming of November.

I did not want to see the darkness coming so early, the necessity of carting in firewood and carting out ashes. I didn't want to see the gardens all brown and dead, the birds leaving, the muddy shoes lining the porch, the falling of the leaves.

"How silently they tumble down

And come to rest upon the ground

To lay a carpet, rich and rare,

Beneath the trees without a care,

Content to sleep, their work well done,

Colors gleaming in the sun.

At other times, they wildly fly

Until they nearly reach the sky.

Twisting, turning through the air

Till all the trees stand stark and bare.

Exhausted, drop to earth below

To wait, like children, for the snow." 

-   Elsie N. Brady, Leaves

I've changed over the years, though. I am not sure when. Maybe it was when we put in the gas stoves so firewood was a pleasure, something for the fireplace and evening quiet times. Maybe it was when I began writing more and paying more attention to the subtle changes. Maybe it was when there were no longer so many muddy shoes and boots, and the birds stayed around because we began feeding them year-round.

Whatever the reason, November is now a time I look forward to. The frantic pace of summer and early fall is over; the gardens are at rest, not dead like I used to think. The cellar is as full as we can make it, and the lamplight in the evenings makes the house glow with comfort. It's time to rest a bit ourselves, although my storytelling and writing work is still keeping me busy--but it is a busyness of my mind as I plan and practice, research and write. By the end of the month there will be venison in the freezer and best of all, family will come to celebrate Thanksgiving.

A friend wrote this morning of his appreciation of the good things in his life--even though politics, shootings, the difficulties of friends and strangers trying to cope with the devastating effects of the hurricane in Florida, and the ugly head of racism all keep us worried and stressed. My friend wrote of his snug home, his good food, his new bike, his many friends, his good life. And his joy in these things spilled over onto all of us who read his words.

November is a month for reflection, a month for sharing, and a month for appreciating the goodness we have in whatever measure we have been graced with. I cannot fix the ills of this world. I can, however, do what I can in my little corner, and I can slow down and be thankful for where I am and those I love. That's what November means to me now--a time of soft light, gentle evenings, appreciation.

"November comes 

And November goes, 

With the last red berries 

And the first white snows.

With night coming early, 

And dawn coming late, 

And ice in the bucket 

And frost by the gate.

The fires burn 

And the kettles sing, 

And earth sinks to rest 

Until next spring."

-  Elizabeth Coatsworth

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

Rainy Days

Yesterday and today have been almost steady rain, drizzle and fog. It's perfect weather for resting up from our trip to Chattanooga and catching up on small tasks like laundry and housecleaning.

I did not fill the hummingbird feeders before we left so I was surprised to see one small fellow still here, braving the rain to scold me. His feeder was quickly filled! I cannot remember if the hummers have stayed this late in the year before, but it seems odd, especially given the recent turn to cooler temperatures.

This cooling trend is so welcome. I am tired, tired, tired of sweating, of heat and humidity. It has not been a nice summer in my region. Either too much rain or not enough, day after day of temps in the 90's and humidity over the top. I have never been a fan of summer; last year was great, but this year I was ready to pack up and head to Canada. Well, not really, but their cool weather was sure tempting.

I packed several eBay packages yesterday. This one was the most difficult:

I ended up cobbling together several boxes to get one big enough. Now my fingers are crossed that it will make the trip to Massachusetts safely.

The other items sold recently included some Hofbauer Byrdes crystal coasters,

a mug made in Hungary by an obscure pottery (Barakonyi),

a vintage nurse's uniform,

a brass plaque of a palm tree, embossed with the words Saudi Arabia and some other words in Farsi or some other mid-East language,

a Heisey decanter with a married stopper (mis-matched but works),

and a chocolate brown Fiesta Ware tray.

I love the variety of things I sell. It takes time to research each one to be sure my description is correct. Today I received a message telling me that a pitcher I listed was not quite what I thought it was. I appreciate people who share their knowledge so that my listings are accurate. I try to do the same when I can.

Yesterday afternoon I worked on the upcoming ghost walk. I found several details I'd previously overlooked and that sent me back to my research and the computer to try to find more information. These stories are like a scavenger hunt, really, as I hunt for facts, details, and connections I may have missed. Sometimes I find I can develop a whole new story, and that's always satisfying.

Books, books and books. What would I do without my books? And this is just the tip of the iceberg.

Before we left for Chattanooga I completed the last step of getting another CD finished: calling the production company and giving them my credit card number. The CDs should be here by the weekend or early next week. That makes two new ones this year! I am trying to catch up on getting my stories recorded as I haven't released a new CD in a long time. Look for another one in the spring of 2019, and possibly another in the fall of that year.

I have been listening to the news about the Supreme Court hearings and thinking about this moment in our history. So many women are now sharing stories of what has happened to them in the past, and why the did not come forward. I've had my own experiences and understand the reluctance. I remember feeling ashamed, and remember the boys/men involved each time making me feel like I was a prude, didn't have a sense of humor, thought I was too good for them, owed it to them, etc, etc. As a young girl, shy, sheltered and unsure of myself anyway, I could not even begin to bring myself to tell anyone. As a woman, I thought perhaps they were right--I was a prude and had no sense of humor. I feel for this judge, facing accusations from so long ago, and I also understand why the women may never have mentioned it before. I can only hope that this lady receives better treatment than Anita Hill did, and that both she and the judge will have a fair, objective hearing.

Well, back to work. I've had enough coffee to keep me going even though the rain makes me sleepy. Tonight, another fire like the one we had when we came home from Chattanooga? I think so.

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