eating an elephant in small bites

I had the privelege of going to Rita Dove's (U.S. Poet Laureate 1993-1995) poetry reading at a local college last night. I was very excited when I heard that she was coming--having written, for my undergrad thesis, a comparison between Rita Dove's "Thomas and Beulah" poems and a smattering of Elizabeth Bishops' poems. It's funny how you forget those things, I'm not sure how, since I spent an entire half a semester working on that paper. It's funny too that when you are writing those monstrous papers it seems like the material will never be applicable in your life, and I guess in some ways it hasn't been, other than that I still think about those poems and tonight had a better appreciation for the poet herself!

I think my favorite poem that Rita Dove read tonight was "Maple Valley Branch Library, 1967," which Ms. Dove said is her, "love poem to librarians." (Yes, being a librarian might be part of the reason why...) I will share it now and hope that after reading this more people discover one of the joys of my undergrad days.

For a fifteen-year-old there was plenty
to do: Browse the magazines,
slip into the Adult Section to see
what vast tristesse was born of rush-hour traffic,
décolletés, and the plague of too much money.
There was so much to discover---how to
lay out a road, the language of flowers,
and the place of women in the tribe of Moost.
There were equations elegant as a French twist,
fractal geometry's unwinding maple leaf;


I could follow, step-by-step, the slow disclosure
of a pineapple Jell-O mold---or take
the path of Harold's purple crayon through
the bedroom window and onto a lavender
spill of stars. Oh, I could walk any aisle
and smell wisdom, put a hand out to touch
the rough curve of bound leather,
the harsh parchment of dreams.


As for the improbable librarian
with her salt and paprika upsweep,
her British accent and sweater clip
(mom of a kid I knew from school)---
I'd go up to her desk and ask for help
on bareback rodeo or binary codes,
phonics, Gestalt theory,
lead poisoning in the Late Roman Empire,
the play of light in Dutch Renaissance painting;
I would claim to be researching
pre-Columbian pottery or Chinese foot-binding,


but all I wanted to know was:
Tell me what you've read that keeps
that half smile afloat
above the collar of your impeccable blouse .


So I read Gone with the Wind because
it was big, and haiku because they were small.
I studied history for its rhapsody of dates,
lingered over Cubist art for the way
it showed all sides of a guitar at once.
All the time in the world was there, and sometimes
all the world on a single page.
As much as I could hold
on my plastic card's imprint I took,


greedily: six books, six volumes of bliss,
the stuff we humans are made of:
words and sighs and silence,
ink and whips, Brahma and cosine,
corsets and poetry and blood sugar levels---
I carried it home, past five blocks of aluminum siding
and the old garage where, on its boarded-up doors,

someone had scrawled:

I can eat an elephant

if I take small bites.

Yes , I said, to no one in particular: That's

what I'm gonna do!

Dove, Rita. : Maple Valley Branch Library, 1967 [from On The Bus With Rosa Parks (1999) ,

W. W. Norton & Company ]

what's cooking: quinoa

According to Purdue's Department of Horticulture,

• Quinoa (pronounced KEEN-WAH) means "mother grain" in the Inca language
• It has been eaten continuously for 5,000 years by people who live on the mountain plateaus and in the valleys of Peru, Bolivia, Ecuador, and Chile where it is a native plant 
• Quinoa is a highly nutritious food. The protein quality and quantity in quinoa seed is often superior to those of more common cereal grains and it is higher in lysine than wheat
• Quinoa grain has a lower sodium content and is higher in calcium, phosphorus, magnesium, potassium, iron, copper, manganese, and zinc than wheat, barley, or corn

For more info on quinoa, check here.

Wanted to share this recipe, which I made on Tuesday for tea snack. I was a little anxious because both the sponge and dough were like nothing I'd ever worked with before. (Also, a note: I used more flour than the recipe called for--1 cup more white flour). The recipe is below, the original New York Times post can be found here. I wish I'd taken a picture, the bread looked gorgeous! I served it with radish butter.

WHOLE-WHEAT QUINOA BREAD:
For the sponge:
2 1/2 teaspoons active dry yeast 
3 cups lukewarm water
1 tablespoon agave syrup (I used pure maple)
1 tablespoon blackstrap molasses
2 cups all-purpose or white bread flour
2 cups whole-wheat flour

For the bread:

1/4 cup canola oil
1 scant tablespoon salt
2 cups cooked quinoa
3 to 4 cups whole-wheat flour, as needed
1 egg, beaten with 2 tablespoons water for egg wash (I left out the egg wash)
1 tablespoon sesame seeds

1. In a large bowl, combine the yeast and water and stir until dissolved. Stir in the agave syrup and molasses. Whisk in the flours, 1 cup at a time. Stir or whisk this mixture 100 times, for about two minutes. Scrape down the sides of the bowl with a spatula, cover the bowl with plastic and leave to rise in a warm spot for one hour, until bubbly.

2. Add the oil to the sponge and fold in, using a large spoon or spatula. Add the salt and fold in. Fold in the quinoa, then fold in 2 cups of the whole-wheat flour. Place another 1/2 cup whole-wheat flour on your work surface, then scrape out the dough. Use a paddle to help fold the dough over while kneading until it has absorbed the flour on your work surface. Flour your hands, and knead the dough for 10 minutes, adding flour as necessary, until it is elastic and springs back when you press it with your finger. It will be dense and sticky. Shape the dough into a ball. Rinse and dry your bowl, and coat it with oil. Place the dough in it, then flip the dough over so that it is coated with oil. Cover the bowl tightly with plastic wrap, and set in a warm spot to rise for one hour or until doubled.

3. Punch down the dough, cover the bowl and allow the dough to rise again for 45 minutes to an hour.

4. Preheat the oven to 375 degrees. Divide the dough into two parts, and shape into loaves. Place half of the sesame seeds on your work surface, and gently roll the rounded side of one loaf over them so that they stick. Repeat with the remaining sesame seeds and the other loaf. Oil two 9-by-5-inch bread pans, and place the loaves in the pans, first seam side up, then seam side down. Cover with a damp towel and allow to rise for 30 minutes, or until the surface of the loaves rises above the edges of the bread pans.

5. Gently brush the loaves with egg wash. Using a sharp knife, cut two or three 1/2-inch-deep slashes across the top of each loaf. (If this causes the loaves to deflate, let them sit for another 15 to 20 minutes.) Bake 50 to 55 minutes, brushing again halfway through with egg wash. The bread is done when it is golden brown and responds to tapping with a hollow sound. Remove from the pans and cool on a rack.

Yield: Two loaves, about 16 slices in each loaf.

Martha Rose Shulman can be reached at martha-rose-shulman.com. Her new book, “The Very Best of Recipes for Health,” was published in August by Rodale Books.

 
My Radish Butter:

• Steam radishes (a bunch) until fattest one can be poked through with a knife
• Throw radishes into food processor with 1/2-1 stick butter (depending on how radish-y you want it)
• Blend until smooth, adding a little salt and pepper to taste (I also throw in a little soy sauce)
• Serve on bread, especially good if bread is still warm!

surveying the fields

"The sunlight on the garden"

The sunlight on the garden
Hardens and grows cold,
We cannot cage the minute
Within its nets of gold;
When all is told
We cannot beg for pardon.

Our freedom as free lances
Advances towards its end;
The earth compels, upon it
Sonnets and birds descend;
And soon, my friend,
We shall have no time for dances.

The sky was good for flying
Defying the church bells
And every evil iron
Siren and what it tells:
The earth compels,
We are dying, Egypt, dying

And not expecting pardon,
Hardened in heart anew,
But glad to have sat under
Thunder and rain with you,
And grateful too
For sunlight on the garden.

 -- Louis MacNeice

As I gathered my pumpkins this past weekend (13 baking pumpkins, 8 carving Halloween pumpkins) and again gathered another bunch of tomatoes yesterday I surveyed the dying gardens. Today the head gardener was plowing some of the gardens under, clearing away the dead plants, leaving smooth rows of dark Earth. It is time for processing and storing and setting things aside; saying goodbye to green and gold fields; preparing ourselves daily for fall with the ever changing leaves coloring, drying and falling off the trees. 

Things on the horizon: Thursday my friend Kelly and I are driving out to visit our friend Christy at the Farm she works on out near Boston. Looking forward to seeing another farm and how they do their gardening! Pics to follow once my computer is fixed!

forgetting

My last post made me think of Shel Silverstein; how I loved his poems when I was little; how our substitute teacher would read them to us if we were good for her; how I still love his poems.

"Forgotten Language" 

Once I spoke the language of the flowers,
Once I understood each word the caterpillar said,
Once I smiled in secret at the gossip of the starlings,
And shared a conversation with the housefly
in my bed.
Once I heard and answered all the questions
of the crickets,
And joined the crying of each falling dying
flake of snow,
Once I spoke the language of the flowers...
How did it go?
How did it go?

~ Shel Silverstein 

walking a walk that is measured and slow

I am working really hard on a journey of self discovery this year. And honestly, I can't remember how it happened. It wasn't an intentional thing. Somehow, one day, I think I just started *gasp* paying attention. Paying attention to the way that I feel; paying attention to how things make me feel, how I react in certain situations; paying attention to this strange internal change coming over me. At first I swore that I was losing my damn mind. And then I attributed this unwanted, unrequested mindfulness on turning 30 this year. And then it dawned on me that I was beginning to not mind it anymore, this transformation. It's not visible, it's probably not even apparent to the people who know me best, but I am changing. I think differently. I see differently. I am slowly becoming different.

Earlier this afternoon I had a weird confrontationy moment with TSO and it didn't feel good to leave for work feeling like things were unresolved. I drove away feeling disappointed in my behavior. What the crap happened to that internal glimmer, that groundwork I've been doing?! What happened to my patience--which showed its lovely face the other day in a difficult meeting at work!? What happened to seeing things through new eyes? Experiencing things differently? I felt like a newly budding caterpillar shoved back into my cocoon higgldy piggldy!

But, we worked things out (thank you Gmail chat) because TSO is patient, and because he has an ability to still be my friend even when I push him away. He is brave enough to run up the proverbial white flag and to go into the lion's den. He is a good friend. He is a good person.

It was with our conversation still fresh in my mind that I stumbled--stumbled seems apropos--over this quote, discovering it on this wonderful blog (Live with Flair), which Mummy Dearest mentioned on her blog. 

"Walking, then, is a perpetual falling with a perpetual self-recovery. It is a most complex, violent, and perilous operation. . ."  ~ Oliver Wendel Holmes

I imagine this growth, this inner strength, this new and improved me much like a playground slide during the summer. I am trying desperately to prove something to myself; trying to climb up the slope. But the strange incline is difficult, it dips, it's slippery, the metal is hot; everything is working against me. Every time I feel like I am making some progress I slip back a little, temporarily losing my footing. But that's just it. I have to keep reminding myself that even these moments--the sliding backs--are progress. I have to remember these words:

"The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination.” ~ Don Williams Jr.

Weird. I realized that I titled a blog this before, and I also revealed who I borrowed the line from. Good ole' Shel.

fight for your right...TO READ!!

Every year the American Library Association celebrates Banned Books Week. This year we celebrate on September 25, 2010-October 2, 2010. The best way to explain what challenged and banned books are comes from the American Library Association's definition,

"A challenge is an attempt to remove or restrict materials, based upon the objections of a person or group. A banning is the removal of those materials. Challenges do not simply involve a person expressing a point of view; rather, they are an attempt to remove material from the curriculum or library, thereby restricting the access of others. As such, they are a threat to freedom of speech and choice."



According to the American Library Association, these are the Top 25 Banned Books of 2009:

1 Harry Potter (series), by J.K. Rowling
2 Alice series, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
3 The Chocolate War, by Robert Cormier
4 And Tango Makes Three, by Justin Richardson/Peter Parnell
5 Of Mice and Men, by John Steinbeck
6 I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, by Maya Angelou
7 Scary Stories (series), by Alvin Schwartz
8 His Dark Materials (series), by Philip Pullman
9 TTYL; TTFN; L8R, G8R (series), by Myracle, Lauren
10 The Perks of Being a Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky
11 Fallen Angels, by Walter Dean Myers
12 It’s Perfectly Normal, by Robie Harris
13 Captain Underpants (series), by Dav Pilkey
14 The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, by Mark Twain
15 The Bluest Eye, by Toni Morrison
16 Forever, by Judy Blume
17 The Color Purple, by Alice Walker
18 Go Ask Alice, by Anonymous
19 Catcher in the Rye, by J.D. Salinger
20 King and King, by Linda de Haan
21 To Kill A Mockingbird, by Harper Lee
22 Gossip Girl (series), by Cecily von Ziegesar
23 The Giver, by Lois Lowry
24 In the Night Kitchen, by Maurice Sendak
25 Killing Mr. Griffen, by Lois Duncan

For the full Top 100 list by the ALA, click here.

Imagine your teen angst again, the way you connected with Holden Caufield in Catcher in the Rye; think of the way that Atticus Finch in Harper Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird made you stop and really think about bigotry and all the forms that it comes in; remember a time when you, like Jonas in The Giver, were at a precipice, having to choose between the easy and the unknown. Books have the power to take us to far away places; make us feel understood; allow us to dream the impossible; force us to stop and examine ourselves, our worlds and the truths we believe in. Fight unnecessary book banning!

Celebrate Banned Books Week by:

• checking out a challenged or banned book from your local library
• dressing up like a character from one of your favorite challenged/banned books and going to work (this will give you an opportunity for a "teaching moment," when others may ask why you are dressed up like Harry Potter/Laura Ingalls Wilder/Atticus Finch/Pantalaimon)
• in conversation answer with direct quotes from any challenged/banned books (*Extra points for using different voices/accents*)
• staging a reading from a banned book in your classroom/for your coworkers/while waiting in the line at Taco Bell

Other ways to celebrate:

Amnesty International's website, is celebrating Banned Books by focusing on drawing attention to those persecuted for their written words, those who are "persecuted because of the writings that they produce, circulate or read."

Damien Rice - Older Chests Acoustic

Something about this song grabbed me today; ripped at the seams; made me feel split open and raw, exposed and vulnerable; like someone understands the unspoken things I covet and hide. I really love Damien Rice. I really love this song.

just because

I love these:

current events haven't changed much since 1993

I am lazy about keeping up with current events, so, while at the library tonight I turned to the New York Times online. This is what I read:

• Insurers Scramble to Comply With New Health Care Rules 
• You will meet a tall dark stranger (movie review)
• Prospects rise for cleaner cooking in poor places
• Chilling account given of attack in Cheshire case
• Kafka's last trial
• Egg producer say his business grew too quickly
• Concussion laws have limitations
• 3 Journalists arrested in Afghanistan
• Man accused in cabby attack ranted to police
• Whole-wheat quinoa bread
• London's bright idea is color 
• Gastronomes await 'Modernist Cuisine'
• 10 Years after the Prom: friends as landmarks
• At call center, cultural clash in review
• A director's many battles to make her movioe
• Spiking summer fruit in order to preserve it
• Newark Public Schools to get a $100 million gift
• Two new dinosaur species are discovered in Southern Utah

Okay, now my eyes are swimming.

blunt and funny

If you haven't discovered BluntCard, you don't know what you're missing!

Happy Monday!

loving awkward costumes

I love looking at awkward Halloween costumes almost as much as I love Halloween. Shouldn't Wharf--or whatever the hell that Klingon's name is--be on the Enterprise!?

back to the cardigan

Article One, ArtStor. Biography Resource Center, ERIC, Gale Virtual Reference Library, GreenFILE, JSTOR, Lexis Nexis, MEDLINE, NoodleBib, Oxford Reference Online, PschINFO and World Almanac are just a few of the databases which I am now working with. Yep, you guessed it, I am again working in the library world. Since the early part of the year I have been volunteering at a lovely rural library not too far from the Farm, but starting today I am now also working at a nearby college library. The college--which we'll call Alternative U--is small, around 400 students and focuses on the arts and sciences. 

I must confess that I was a little nervous walking in tonight; the same sensation I felt when I showed up for my first shift at Purdy Kresge, Wayne State University's graduate library (back when I was still a lowly graduate student). Working at the Farm I sometimes forget that once-- seemingly in a life that I lived a hundred years ago--I was paid to help people find books, assist in research, just be helpful (these thought especially occur to me when I am elbow deep in meat or pasta). Though tonight I am not so sure about the being helpful part. I have already found myself unable to help two girls with some DVD player issues and then I sent another girl to the wrong part of the library in search of a book...she is still shooting me dirty looks. And I am only less than two hours into the job. Guess when I take my lunch break later I will again be going on a tour of the library. 


Best part of this job: getting back to working in my field, money

Worst part of this job: Sundays now mean working in the Kitchen 6:30am-2:30pm, working at the library 6pm-2am. Wednesdays will be a little like Sunday, but I am done at midnight. Everything's a trade-off. Wish me luck.

leaving footprints

“Many people will walk in and out of your life, but only true friends will leave footprints in your heart”

“You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience by which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.”

Both quotes are attributed to Eleanor Roosevelt and I had to laugh when reading these because both came up while I was searching Eleanor Roosevelt quotes on the subject of friendship. Why am I thinking about friendship, you ask? Because it was around this time last year that TSO, RugbyGirl and I embarked on a new adventure. The three of us moved into our house, the glorious and lovely Avalon. And on this year anniversary I was thinking about how living together has taught all of us things about each other and maybe even about ourselves. We've had some fun, hit some rough patches and yet we are still making it work. I just hope that unlike the E. Roosevelt quote, none of us walks away thinking, "I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along. " :)

More fun quotes on friendship:

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another,
What! You too? I thought I was the only one." C.S. Lewis

"The only way to have a friend is to be one." Ralph Waldo Emerson

"A wise man remembers his friends at all times;
a fool, only when he has need of them." Turkish Proverb

“True friends stab you in the front."

Oscar Wilde

“Life is partly what we make it, and partly what it is made by the friends we choose.”

Tennessee Williams

“A true friend is someone who thinks that you are a good egg even though he knows that you are slightly cracked”

Bernard Meltzer

arrrrrre you able to handle this?

I love National talk like a Pirate Day. It is the one day where I can at least get away (not really) with talking like a pirate.  From years of working with kids I've accrued some really awkfard (awkfard means awkward and awful combined) pirate jokes:

• What was the Pirate's favorite fast food restaurant? Arrrrbys
• What was the Pirate's favorite letter? Rrrrrr
• What do Pirate kids say on long road trips? Arrrrrre we there yet?
• What are the Pirate's favorite subjects in school? Arrrrrt and Arrrrithmentic

Yes...I can hear you groaning in cyber space.

cooking for family...

is a little different than cooking for the community at the Farm. It's different for two reasons:

1. When cooking in the Kitchen at the Farm I have more food, spices and condiments, as well as loads of counter space and kitchen appliances at my disposal. This is not the case when I am cooking in my sisters' kitchen. The food I bought at the store is all I have to work with, unless I want a return trip to the market. Space is limited. That said, it was nice cooking with my Mom's help and it was sweet to have my niece and nephew Monster S and Monster A around, asking questions and willing to try things alongside me.

2. If I make something in the Kitchen at the Farm and it doesn't turn out exactly as I hoped it would I always have other opportunities for redemption. I can make the same dish again in a slightly different way, learning from the first attempt's mistakes. This is not so when you are making something for a gathering with the extended family you only see once every few months, if that.

It was knowing these things that I undertook making two dishes for a potluck at one of my favorite aunties homes this past weekend while in Michigan. The first was a simple side dish which we make in the kitchen at the Farm fairly often: roasted mushrooms with thyme, balsamic vinegar and soy. I will share the recipes below, though I don't use measurements when cooking, I just eye ball things and adjust to taste, so good luck if you try these:

Roasted mushrooms with thyme, balsamic vinegar and soy:

• Clean mushrooms as needed
• Place mushrooms in oven safe pan, toss with olive oil, balsamic vinegar, soy, thyme, salt and pepper
• Roast at 425F for about 15 minutes
• Stir mushrooms, adding more oil if they look dry
• Roast for another 10-15 mins until they are soft and flavorful

The second dish was something my boss FlavaFlav taught me how to make, though it varies every time it's made. (One thing I love about cooking is creating and flavoring as we go, counting more on our palettes and less on recipes). Dish two was to be the vegetarian option for my Mom and sister A1; knowing that A1 is kinda picky I was a little hesitant that she wouldn't like the dish, knowing that she's never had swiss chard. I wound up making swiss chard rolls, stuffed with long grain rice and covered in a lemon maple sauce.

Long Grain Rice stuffed Swiss Chard Rolls w/ lemon maple sauce:

• Cook rice (1 Box store bought), about 2-3 cups of rice if you use bulk. (Because of time I just bought Uncle Ben's long grain, quick/cook rice. I would suggest a more organic rice cooked in a rice cooker if possible)
• Small dice two red peppers, add this to rice when it is done
• Add about a 1/4 cup dijon mustard
• Add about 1/8 cup soy sauce
• Add about 2 Tablespoons pure maple syrup
• Add a few teaspoons of olive oil
• Add a teaspoon or two of garlic powder
• Salt and pepper to taste
• Warm this mix on the stovetop, making sure that there is just enough liquid/low enough heat that it's not burning. Doing this for a few minutes softens the red peppers
• Feel free to add ingredients that change the taste of the rice to something that suites your tastes
• As the rice is cooling, take the Swiss chard and chop off the stems in 1/4 inch pieces, setting them aside
• Once the rice is cool, scoop rice out and place lines of rices lengthwise down the stem of your Swiss chard. Once you have about 1/8-1/4 cup rice on the chard leaf, fold up the end where the stem had been and then fold in two sides, rolling the chard like a burrito
• Place Swiss chard rolls into an oiled, oven safe pan

Lemon Maple Sauce:

• In a pot, bring to boil 1/2 c lemon juice and 1 cup pure maple syrup in pot
• Add salt and pepper
• Add about 2 Tablespoons of soy sauce
• Add about a tablespoon of dijon mustard
• Add teaspoon thyme
• Toss in chopped up Swiss chard stems
• Add more maple syrup if the mix seems to lemony
• In a separate container make a cornstarch (or arrowroot) and water mixture, incorporate this into your boiling contents, while constantly whisking the contents in the pot. Once the cornstarch (arrowroot) mix is added you will see your sauce start to thicken
• Pour this mixture over the Swiss chard rolls
• Cover the rolls with foil, cook at 325F for about 20 minutes, or until hot

We paired these swiss chard rolls with the roasted mushrooms, garlic butter bread, honey glazed ham and greek salad. It was an amazing dinner and everyone really liked the mushrooms and Swiss chard rolls I made...even my sister.

fragmented mumbly jumbly

While, I am sure, the ED of the Farm sent this out to inspire even greater greatness in our work here at the Farm, I can't help but wonder how to keep all the balls in the air. Reading this today made me reflect on the past weekend; a five day weekend back in Michigan, which proved to be a little more stressful than I planned for. It seems like my sister and I have mastered the art of scuffing the glass ball of family, making me think that being an adult can be so tiring, can't it?

Anyway, I made the drive in record time, somehow turning the usually 10.5-11 hour drive into a 9.5 hour drive; enjoyed the buddings of fall colors, which are already springing up along I90 in New York State and Massachusetts; listened to books on CD; enjoyed the solitude.

And then I was back in community. A slow introduction back into life here, I fortunately had today off. A quiet day. A day of accomplishments:

• canned 7 quarts of homemade salsa (made with my tomatoes!)
• presently making applesauce to can 
• tried my pickles, which have been pickling for over two months. Good, but not as good as last year's recipe

It is good to be back. 

called back

As much as I might fight it, it is still home.

"Michigan"
I feel the calling of the land,
The trees and summer streams;
The thunderstorms and sun-drenched lakes,
The land of boyhood dreams.


The little town where someone’s dad
Owned every shop and store;
And every face you saw you knew
And welcomed at your door.


A forest full of mystery,
An undiscovered find
That flexed imagination
In an adolescent mind.


The place my seed was rooted
In fields where I once grew;
The home of every memory
Of everything once new.


Beneath the sea of motion,
Beneath the waves and foam,
I rest on its foundation -
Michigan is home.
~ Matthew Ashbrook

heading west

Not to the wild west. The midwest. The place of my birth. The mindset which still steers the way I think. Home, not so home anymore. Every time I go home I can't help but feel a little like Jane Austen's Fanny Price in Mansfield Park, sans the Sir Thomas-sending-me-away part. I leave behind a place of comfort and familiarity for the place from whence I came, but which increasingly holds little connection, save familial.

I was thinking about this today as I walked home from lunch and enjoyed the cool air on my skin; the cloudy, foreboding sky promising rain; the smell of the apples--fallen from the trees and crushed under foot. I was thinking too that today is a perfect day for a roadtrip. I leave this afternoon, making the 10.5 hour drive to Michigan. To family. To dearest friends. I only wish that, like Fanny Price, I could make my trip in a carriage. Let somebody else do the driving.

Monster and the terrible, horrible, no good, very bad milking

Thank you, Ms. Viorst, for creating a children's book which speaks to that shitty-day feeling we can all have sometimes. Yesterday's milking was a Series of Unfortunate Events:

• The cows weren't waiting for me right at the gate. I had to walk all the way down to the bee hives and staff gardens to get them, which is fine, since it was a lovely day and I was enjoying the weather and the sun. However, when I got to the cows they all decided to play the we-don't-know-what-we-are-supposed-to-be-doing game. It took lots of prodding to get them moving.
• While crossing the street with the cows (traffic waiting for us--minimal traffic, yes, but traffic still!) three of the cows decided it was really important to stand in place and act as if we'd never done this before. Beasley (cow) picked a fight with Samantha (cow). I literally had to step between them and do some Jerry Springer relationship-saving work.
• I put Samantha (cow) in one of the pens to nurse some of the calves; Jasmine (cow), who is also nursing another calf decided she didn't want to go into the pen. She tried to run for it so I grabbed her collar and tried to lead her to said pen, she freaked out and twisted away from me, somehow stepping on my foot in the process. I screamed like a banshee, she tried to wander back outside, it was madness! But in the long run she made her way into the pen. Fortunately she only stepped on my three little toes and I think only the pinky is broken or really badly bruised. It hurts like hell. Should probably look at that tonight.
• While this whole thing was happening, Brie (cow) decided to pace around behind all the other cows and not go into her stall. I tried to get her in twice, she tried to go back out into the pasture twice, but in the end she was in her stall. 
• Just after I got the cows into their stalls and was feeling exhausted--and before my milking had even begun!!--a slew of Labor Day tourists appeared out of nowhere and began snapping pictures. It was one of those moments where you think, "really!!?" I felt frazzled and looked frazzled and in the midst of that had to be polite. 
• I accidentally dumped a pound or two of fresh milk into my udder wash bucket and had to dump it out and refill it. 
• Overflowed the acid rinse sink (this is the sanitizing solution the milking dishes get washed in)--fortunately the bulk tank room is designed for such mishaps. 
• I looked out the window mid-milking and thought, "huh, I didn't park down there..." My Emergency brake in my car has been touch and go, choosing when it wants to work; well, it didn't catch this time and apparently when I put my car in first gear, "just in case," I didn't actually get it into first gear. So, while in neutral, and parked on a hill, my car rolled down the farm driveway, off onto the little slice of lawn, over the flower beds and into the pasture fence. Fortunately the flower beds slowed it enough to keep it from doing any damage to the fence. Just a nice, shiny black scratch on my back passenger side. 

And just when I thought things couldn't get worse...they didn't. Another farmer showed up and offered to help and did a great job: weighing milk, pouring the heavy milk cans into the bulk tank (where the milk is kept cold until it is processed) and recording each cows production stats. Were it not for him I am sure they would have found me hours later, wandering around the barn mumbling to myself and looking stressed out. It was such a good way to end my hard milking, and a good reminder of the joys of community. 

I heart Howard Roarke

I finally finished reading Ayn Rand's The Fountainhead last week (completing another task for my list). When asked what I liked about it I found that my reasons sounded so strange because, I realized as I spoke, the reasons that I wound up liking the book were the reasons I didn't like the book at the beginning. I also found it hard to talk about the things I felt really amazed by without giving away some of the good parts of the book; I wound up saying what I think best friend K said to me a couple years back, "you just have to read it!"

Some great quotes:

• "Worry is a waste of emotional reserve."
• "Every form of happiness is private. Our greatest moments are personal, self-motivated, not to be touched."
• "You know how people long to be eternal. But they die with every day that passes. When you meet them, they’re not what you met last. In any given hour, they kill some part of themselves. They change, they deny, they contradict--and they call it growth. At the end there’s nothing left, nothing unreversed or unbetrayed; as if there had never been an entity, only a succession of adjectives fading in and out on an unformed mass."
• "I am a man who does not exist for others."
• "I have come here to say that I do not recognize anyone's right to one minute of my life.... It had to be said. The world is perishing from an orgy of self-sacrificing."
• "I would give the greatest sunset in the world for one sight of New York's skyline. Particularly when one can't see the details. Just the shapes. The shapes and the thought that made them. The sky over New York and the will of man made visible. What other religion do we need? And then people tell me about pilgrimages to some dank pesthole in a jungle where they go to do homage to a crumbling temple, to a leering stone monster with a pot belly, created by some leprous savage. Is it beauty and genius they want to see? Do they seek a sense of the sublime? Let them come to New York, stand on the shore of the Hudson, look and kneel. When I see the city from my window - no, I don't feel how small I am - but I feel that if a war came to threaten this, I would throw myself into space, over the city, and protect these buildings with my body."
• "Throughout the centuries there were men who took first steps down new roads armed with nothing but their own vision. Their goals differed, but they all had this in common: that the step was first, the road new, the vision unborrowed, and the response they received--hatred. The great creators--the thinkers, the artists, the scientists, the inventors--stood alone against the men of their time. Every great new thought was opposed. Every great new invention was denounced. The first motor was considered foolish. The first airplane was considered impossible. The power loom was considered vicious. Anesthesia was considered sinful. But the men of unborrowed vision went ahead. They fought, they suffered and they paid. But they won."

day at the seashore

Mentioned some weeks back that I was going to drive a Farm trip to the ocean; the initial date was cancelled due to rain, but we did make it last weekend. We drove about 2.5 hours to Hammonaset Beach in Madison, CT, to Connecticut's largest beach, for a day in the sand and sun. It was a perfect day: hot, and sunny; cool water shocked the flesh of feet and ankles, mid calves and splashes onto knees; the kind of water which is only truly enjoyed after one allows oneself to broil in the rays of the sun until the heat is too much and reddening skin needs cooling off. Though I do love the ocean: the smells, the sound, being out on the water, I rarely enjoy swimming in it. So, instead of partaking in the an ocean dip, I spent the day reading a magazine and sleeping, occasionally staring out at the sparkling waters of Long Island Sound, only just across stretches of ocean from New York's Montauk and Hamptons. It was gorgeous.

I came across this poem (posted below) today which reminded me of the calming lap of the water, and reminded me too, that summer has seen it's glories and fall is stealthily sneaking in with nights like tonight--47 degrees Farenheit. So long, sweet summer.

"Long Island Sound"

I see it as it looked one afternoon
In August,—by a fresh soft breeze o'erblown.
The swiftness of the tide, the light thereon,
A far-off sail, white as a crescent moon.
The shining waters with pale currents strewn,
The quiet fishing-smacks, the Eastern cove,
The semi-circle of its dark, green grove.
The luminous grasses, and the merry sun
In the grave sky; the sparkle far and wide,
Laughter of unseen children, cheerful chirp
Of crickets, and low lisp of rippling tide,
Light summer clouds fantastical as sleep
Changing unnoted while I gazed thereon. 

All these fair sounds and sights I made my own. 

~ Emma Lazarus

failures

My computer was wounded in action last week, receiving a fatal blow to the hard drive via a runaway cordless house phone--the story really isn't that good.  On Monday my cell phone died on me. I am a klutz...and have terrible luck.

This all happens within two weeks before I am to head to Michigan for some time away from the Farm. Ah, timing is everything, no? Needless to say the last week has been spent having multiple conversations with friend N (also the Farm's IT guy) and the GeekSquad at Best Buy, looking at computers online and in stores, thinking of options. I know that some people might look at this time as a great way to be away from technology, feel out of touch from the rest of the digital world, maybe even meditate and enjoy the silence; I would love to calmly agree with these people, but SHIT! I LIVE ON A FARM IN THE MIDDLE OF A TOWN WHICH BARELY GETS WIFI AND DOES NOT EVEN GET CELL PHONE RECEPTION!! I feel a million miles from things and cling to my daily dose of internet and the option to call friends when I make it into town! Err...umm...all this forced withdraw from the digital world, on top of the normal digital reclusivity, which comes with living on the Farm, has gotten me a little antsy...apparently...

New phone ordered and should arrive tomorrow. Computer will be kept, new hard drive will be ordered when I get back from vacation. Thankfully TSO is letting me use his computer and I guess there are always the Farm computers next door, so things aren't as bad as all that. Think happy thoughts for me...and click my ads on my page--help me pay for my new hard drive!